

The Istanbul orphanage souring France-Turkey relations
InvestigationA historic building donated to France in the days of the Ottoman Empire is now at the heart of a legal and diplomatic entanglement between the two countries. Le Monde traces the history of this extraordinary site.
Lost in thought, staring into the depths of his teacup, Cemal Cinbiz spoke with such a torrential flow of words that they were hard for an unaccustomed listener to catch. His tone was icy, his words not always steady. It was three months now since the 56-year-old craftsman, designer and manufacturer of stucco, ornaments and moldings had been ruthlessly evicted from his workplace by a dozen or so men from the town hall in Istanbul's Beyoglu neighborhood. A lingering anger still resonated in his voice when he talked about the "violence," the "damage done to the building and garden" and the lack of "reaction from France." The whole experience plunged him into a dizzying sense of abandonment, having spent almost his entire life behind this large, closed metal door, protected by a security guard.
He comes every day to sit alone on the sidewalk in Bogazkesen Street as an act of protest, while bystanders and tourists look on with indifference. Above his head, a weathered plaque, scarcely less gray than the façade, bears the French inscription: "Orphelinat Saint Joseph" ("Saint Joseph Orphanage"). He has scrawled on a sign with a blue marker, tallying the time spent outside. "Today, 87 days." It's his way of making his voice heard and fighting to get back his studio, his tools and, above all, the works spread over the four floors of the 19th-century mansion nestled behind that wretched door. The historic, spectacular building is in its original condition, with high walls; rooms with cracked, sometimes battered parquet floors; a neoclassical façade adjoining a chapel; and a leafy garden, all set in grounds extending over 5,000 square meters.
The building is in the heart of Istanbul, on the European bank, in one of the city's most chic and gentrified areas, stretching from the hills of Beyoglu to the banks of the Bosphorus. And this unusual establishment, known to Istanbul's locals as the "French orphanage," is the setting of an exceptional tale: the neighborhood mayor's ruthless requisition of the property handed over more than a century and a half ago by the Ottoman Empire to France by imperial decree. Beyoglu Mayor Haydar Ali Yildiz refutes the legitimacy of the transfer. The former boxer has argued that the property has not been registered with the public land registry. Judging the property's occupation as unlawful, he further condemned the building's dilapidation and the disregard for seismic norms.
Contacted by Le Monde, the French embassy in Ankara claimed they were closely monitoring the case while pointing to the many ongoing, complex legal procedures. One of the actions brought by the Istanbul consulate before the 13th chamber of the courthouse was due to open on February 21, but the hearing has been postponed until the autumn without further clarification. In Paris, the authorities are refusing to comment publicly on the case, as if it were important not to make waves or to pile on an already complicated issue. "It's a clear reflection of the state of relations between France and Turkey, which are as they are, namely not very good," said a former consul posted in Turkey.
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