Nurlan Libre, arrested in the “Meydan TV case,” writes from pre-trial detention:
“We must live this life a little courageously, a little dangerously, taking risks. Especially since we are condemned to lose this life (whether good or bad) in any case.” – Friedrich Nietzsche
I was accepted to college at 16. At that time, in 2013, civil society institutions in the country, inspired by the international protests known as the “Arab Spring,” held demonstrations with democratic demands. Unfortunately, due to my young age, I could only watch the protests from afar.
I remember presidential elections were held at the end of that year, and the opposition’s single candidate, Jamil Hasanli, invited people to the “Mahsul” stadium to protest electoral fraud. I went to that rally without my family’s permission. I recall asking a police officer for directions to the stadium because I didn’t know the way. After the protest, I walked back from “Inshaatchilar” to “20 Yanvar” because I had no money for the metro. This was the first protest I attended. Later, I participated in a few more unauthorized rallies, but they were insignificant, so I won’t dwell on them.
Those were the times when I was searching for myself as an individual. “Who am I? An asocial student, or a revolutionary unable to adapt to society?” During this period of self-discovery, I read books daily, followed news about political prisoners, and even filled out an application for membership in the Azerbaijan Popular Front Party. True, they didn’t accept me then because I was too young, but if they had, Ali Bey would have cursed the Front member who approved my application every day.
2014 remains in my memory due to the trials of the “N!DA” Civil Movement members at the Baku Court of Grave Crimes. That was the first time I realized I wasn’t alone in this world and that there were people with convictions like mine. This gave me great encouragement.
Although I didn’t know the arrested young people, I treated them as if they were my own family. Later, I met Ilkin Rustamzade. We became very close friends. I will write more extensively about my memories with him.
I remember the day the NIDA members were sentenced. The weather was very hot. There were police everywhere. A young woman was preparing a report with a camera in her hand. She looked very brave. Later, I learned that she was Sevinj Vagifgizi, who worked for Meydan TV. Meydan TV was still new at the time.
Suddenly, one of the windows on the second floor of the Court of Grave Crimes opened, and a journalist announced the verdict given to the NIDA members. At that moment, young people, enraged by the court’s unjust decision, began chanting political slogans. I joined them.
The police then intervened in this spontaneous protest. We ran, and an hour later, we gathered in front of Police Station No. 22 to inquire about those who had been detained. That day, I understood that I was happy to be there. My place was here, alongside the young people who oppose the dictatorial regime.
I’m not interested in the monotonous life of ordinary people. I was born a revolutionary, and I will die a revolutionary.
During these times, literature, philosophy, and cinema began to enter my life. I met many new people. I worked as a waiter. Although I wasn’t lucky in love, I was happy because I was realizing my potential.
I first encountered police torture in 2015. Suleyman Nematov, the current Minister of Internal Affairs of Nakhchivan, was the police chief in Sumgayit at that time. As I was returning home in the evening, two police cars were waiting for me at the entrance to my neighborhood. They stopped me, took me to the station, beat me thoroughly, and even planted a grenade in my bag. I thought my path had ended before it even began. For some strange reason, they released me the next day. I had experienced a very serious shock then. But I continued on the path I believed in.
And so, years passed. I left for military service.
I didn’t stay quiet there for a year and a half either. I often got into arguments with officers. Although the soldiers initially kept their distance from me, they later understood that I was fighting for their rights and built friendly relationships with me. This was the moment I proved to myself that, however marginal I might be, I could make myself liked by society.
In 2018, I had just returned from military service and was looking for a job. The job I found had to offer flexible hours, and I couldn’t be persecuted for my political views. It was then that luck smiled on me for the first time in my life, and I found a job at “Kanal13” internet television. In my first report, I met Fatima Movlamli. I didn’t know then that this amateur profession would be my destiny, and Fatima would be my cellmate. And so my journalism career began. Later, I befriended Teymur Karimov and Avaz Hafizli. I also met my wife through this profession. There wasn’t a police station I hadn’t been to. I gained very good friends. For the first time, I found myself where I belonged.
For the first time in 2018, Fatima and I were detained at a protest along with Ali Karimli and a group of Popular Front members. Two days later, we were brought to court and fined 500 manats. At that time, I was earning 250 manats a month. This amount sounded catastrophic to me. A few months later, I was detained at a protest in support of Mehman Huseynov, and this time I couldn’t get off easily.
I was administratively arrested for 21 days. I had a lot of time to think while in custody. Several times I thought about ending my career.
First, I was fined 500 manats, then a short-term arrest two months later. I knew a criminal case awaited me next. But I still didn’t give up.
I also received 2500 euros in compensation for that arrest. I still wonder what would have happened if I had given up then? Most likely, I would be free now and earning much more than I do from journalism. But I wouldn’t be happy. A comfortable life is not enough for some people. They need an idea that will add color to their lives and for which they will fight. History books are full of the biographies of such people. I am one of them. I can’t say anything about my name appearing in history books, but I have certainly managed to be inscribed in the collective memory of the people already.
I’m thinking of writing a book about the first half of my life. I will use this text as a prologue. In my late twenties, I’ve lived a life worth a book. This is actually a great success. The lives of the vast majority of people don’t even amount to a novella. Yes, it might sound arrogant. But why should society value someone who doesn’t value themselves appropriately?
In this short life, I made love to beautiful girls, and met good friends. I mourned the untimely death of a colleague, danced like crazy, and drank until I puked. I took Nazım Hikmet’s poem “On Living” as my guide – “To be able to say I lived.”
I am writing these lines in Baku Pre-trial Detention Center. Here, my days are spent reading books, watching films, and preparing notes for the book I will write. Looking back and reviewing my 28 years of life, although there are episodes I regret, in the end, I have had a sufficiently interesting life.
(The Nazım Hikmet quote exhausted my pen, I took a new one).
If I had the chance to turn back time, I would want to go to university and learn English. I have other mistakes too, but since they happened with the direct involvement of my family, I don’t consider them my responsibility.
I could find a lot to write about, but I don’t want to drag it out any further. Arrests, detentions, torture… So many things have happened to me over these years that I either need to write about all of them or none at all. More than the events themselves, I will write about my memories related to the social and political activists I have known.
I have no intention of praising everyone. I will paint their portraits as human beings. I’m not in a hurry to write about people yet. I’ll write when I’m released. It wouldn’t benefit me to make enemies with anyone while in prison, and it’s impossible to make accurate judgments when you’re in the thick of things. My observations will be my personal approach. They will also carry a bit of gossip. Our nation is dying for gossip. Besides, there’s no rule that memories must always be pleasant.
Nurlan Libre Baku Pre-trial Detention Center