The split between secular and conservative religious values may be one of Turkey’s great political divides, but it’s also proving to be the source of must-watch television. In recent years, popular drama series like “Cranberry Sorbet” and “Red Roses” have attracted viewers by placing this divide at the centre of their plot lines.
“Cranberry Sorbet” focuses on the relationship between Fatih, a conservative man, and Doğa, a secular woman, and their efforts to establish a family. The show handles the conflict with absurd comedy and hyperbole, an approach that is a hit with viewers who identify with the issues it explores.
“I can match people I know to characters of the show, it’s like I have related [the show] to real life,” says Fikriye Avcı, a devoted fan. In her family, Avcı says, she leads a secular lifestyle while the rest of her family is more conservative.
Avcı says that she admires the character Nursema, the daughter of conservative parents, particularly the way she is able to remain objective despite her family and how she can be critical of everything. Avcı also says that the show has made her more open-minded about other members of the public.
Fans of the show don’t necessarily think it’s realistic. Another Cranberry Sorbet viewer, Burcunur Davarcı, agrees that she sees parts of her own life in the show. Davarcı’s aunt, a secular woman, married the son of a conservative family. However, Davarcı says that the couple doesn’t fight like the one in the show and that both families respect each other.
Although Cranberry Sorbet depicts secular and conservative people in Turkey as being completely detached from one another, in reality the two groups have coexisted within society for years. Davarcı criticises the secular mother in the show, Kıvılcım, in this context:
“Kıvılcım is not a very realistic character. She’s clueless, acts like her own secular lifestyle is the only lifestyle to exist. This country’s secular people are not this ignorant about religious topics. It’s not realistic for someone in Turkey to not know how to pray. Some elements [of the show] are absurd. They especially depict secular people as intolerant and disrespectful.”
Davarcı says that the show exaggerates the level of conflict between the two communities, noting that secular and conservative people in Turkey can easily live in cohesion. “I think that the show solidifies the two sides’ taboos about the other,” she adds.
“Red Roses” gives a more sober treatment of the conservative-secular divide, dealing with the inner workings of Islamic religious orders, in which followers are led by the teaching of scholars known as Sheikhs. It shows how the lives of a family belonging to one such order intersect with those of a secular family, and the ensuing confrontation between the two worlds.
Centred on a bright young girl named Zeynep, the show deals with barriers to education. A retired university professor, Suavi Alkanlı, wants to help Zeynep study to improve her prospects. Her mother, Meryem, is hesitant at first, but eventually decides that she wants her daughter to have the opportunities in life that she was denied. When the arrangement is exposed, however, it throws the order into turmoil.
Avcı, who also watches “Red Roses”, says that she finds the inner workings of the religious order fascinating. “I had never seen a show about religious cults before. But people are also curious about the internal affairs of religious orders. The conservative population leads a very isolated lifestyle, so people are interested in the show.”
A consultant for the series, investigative reporter Filiz Gazi, says it is the first of its kind in Turkey. When it launched in 2023, it caused panic among the country’s religious orders, which led the broadcasting authority RTÜK to halt transmission on two occasions. Justifying its decision, RTÜK cited law number 6112, which states: “Broadcast services can not be in violation of the public’s national and emotional values, general morals and the principle to protect the family unit.”
The same year, RTÜK also fined “Cranberry Sorbet” 1.5 million lira for an episode that depicted domestic violence. “Is it because we confront the bitter truths of our women in our society and do not show silent female characters?” asked Sıla Türkoğlu, one of the show’s lead actors on Twitter.
Latife and Osman Refik Keçeli watch “Red Roses” together as a couple. Latife thinks the show accurately reflects the political realities of Turkey’s population. She notes that religious orders in particular really do follow the strict lifestyles depicted.
“My uncle’s brother in law joined a religious order. They really were a bunch that was this fanatical, this closed-off,” Latife says.
The show depicts Meryem, a woman who defies her religious order for her daughter’s education, as a dominant, brave character. In reality, Latife claims, women in religious orders are often not afforded her autonomy.
“Meryem’s character is very fantastical but maybe it will form a question mark in the minds of women in these communities. I wouldn’t imagine as rapid an awakening as in the show, but it might lead to a process,” she says.
Osman agrees. “Meryem is a really harsh character, and she is never passive, but always active. She tells women like herself, ‘No matter the clothes you wear, the community you are part of, you will find the truth as long as you have a mind and a conscience,’” he says.
Osman thinks the show also gives viewers an insight into some of the conservative religious influences on Turkey’s current governing elites and believes “the dynamics on the Turkish and global agendas are fast approaching a period of change.”
Inevitably, Turkey’s religious orders have criticised “Red Roses”. Journalist Gazi believes they were made uncomfortable by having their patriarchal codes scrutinised.
“The camera was on them for the first time. And for the first time, they left their role as the observer and became the object of observation,” she says.
Gazi is happy with the attention the show has received. “I’m pleased when I hear comments about young girls kept out of school, the lives of women who drown in strict interpretations of religion,” she says.
Having gone undercover in religious orders for research, Gazi notes that being a woman like Meryem in these groups is extremely difficult.
“It’s very hard to defy the world for women who have no economic freedoms or social status, who are robbed of their right to education. These are very tough situations,” she says.