Across the world, gender inequality remains deeply rooted in workplaces, and journalism is no exception. In Turkey, women journalists face additional hurdles from an increasingly restrictive political climate and economic instability. Yet within this difficult environment, parliamentary reporting in Ankara stands out as a rare space where women have carved out a strong and respected presence.
This achievement didn’t happen overnight. It’s the result of years of persistence by women journalists who pushed against newsroom biases to claim critical beats. Their resistance gradually shifted norms, creating a parliamentary press corps where women are not only visible but influential. Still, while the corridors of Parliament have opened to more women reporters, true equality in Turkish media remains a distant goal.
In the world of Turkish journalism, Ankara gazeteciliği — the practice of covering parliamentary affairs from the capital — offers a unique vantage point. Despite mounting pressures on the press, Parliament remains one of the few places where political journalism maintains a degree of autonomy, and women reporters have built a lasting presence there.
Veteran parliamentary reporter Ceren Bayar remembers a very different scene when she started 20 years ago.
“When I first began, managers would mostly send male journalists — especially to protests, trials, or major events,” she recalls. “We had to fight to be assigned. We volunteered for night shifts, accidents, anything. We insisted.”
Looking back, Bayar sees a striking transformation: “Today, women cover earthquakes, wars, trials. It’s completely different. We’re here because we refused to leave.”
Persistence is key, Bayar emphasizes — but so is the long-term commitment women showed to staying in the field. Ayşe Sayın, a senior correspondent for BBC Turkish with almost 40 years in Parliament reporting, points to another factor:
“With time, male colleagues tend to move on,” she says. Many men transition into political consultancy or managerial roles, while women stay the course as reporters. “Over the years, that’s how the number of senior women reporters increased.”
Yıldız Yazıcıoğlu, another seasoned Ankara journalist with more than 35 years of experience, agrees.
“From a socioeconomic perspective, men often seek more stable career paths,” she says. “Women, on the other hand, showed more resilience — not just in journalism, but in life. That resilience kept us in the profession.”
Yazıcıoğlu also highlights broader societal shifts, such as the rise in female literacy thanks to early Republican reforms, as key drivers.
“When management opportunities came up, many male journalists grabbed them,” she adds. “I once turned down a bureau chief role — I chose to stay a reporter. Journalism’s foundation is reporting, not management.”
But the fight wasn’t only about gaining assignments; it extended into battles over appearance and dress codes.
“For a long time, women couldn’t wear pants,” one journalist recalls. “It wasn’t considered ‘feminine enough.’”
On the other side of the spectrum, headscarved journalists faced their own barriers. One of them recounts being denied entry to the general assembly hall in 2007 because of her headscarf, without giving her name.
“The ban was lifted in 2010, and we finally entered,” she says. “Before that, even press cards required unveiled photos. I was turned away at first, but over time, we overcame these obstacles.”
Despite ideological differences among them, women journalists in Parliament forged a quiet solidarity.
“Here, ideological divides never created barriers,” the journalist with the headscarf says. “Everyone just focuses on doing their job.”
Today, many describe parliamentary reporting as one of the few relatively freer spaces left in Turkish journalism.
“Compared to covering ministries or local governments, Parliament offers more breathing room,” says Sayın. “You can still ask questions, build sources, work with some degree of autonomy.”
Bayar echoes that sentiment. “In Parliament, despite all political tensions, we can still find ways to practice professional journalism,” she says. “The tradition of press freedom here hasn’t been completely broken.”
Still, the journalists are clear-eyed about the limits of their progress. Visibility on the ground hasn’t translated into power at the top.
“The glass ceiling is still firmly in place,” Sayın explains. “You can become a seasoned reporter, but decision-making roles are much harder to reach. Management still prefers male editors.”
Yazıcıoğlu sees the same dynamic. “Women do the core reporting, but when promotions come, men are still often chosen,” she says. “Leadership is still seen as a male domain, no matter how much women prove themselves.”
For these journalists, the resilience that opened Parliament’s doors must now be channeled toward transforming newsroom hierarchies — ensuring that survival leads not just to presence, but to true equality.