Daily Times

Retired construction worker Ali Cimen looked at the pile of rubble raising dust over his former neighbourhood and scoffed at the idea that Turkey’s earthquake disaster zone could be rebuilt in a year. Half a dozen growling excavators were levelling what was left of the 60-year-old apartment complex in the ancient Syria-border city of Antakya. Hundreds more swung their giant arms and raised a cacophony of noise across this mountain-ringed melting pot of ancient civilisation.

Antakya was known as Antioch until it became part of Turkey and inherited the mantle of one of the region’s most free-spirited cities. Its skeletal remains — precariously standing since a 7.8-magnitude quake unleashed its devastation exactly two months ago — were now being turned to rubble and dust. What comes in their place — and when — is a matter of intense social and political debate. “I don’t think the reconstruction can be accomplished in a year,” Cimen said, while watching his home being torn down. “Maybe somewhere else. But here, under these conditions, removing the rubble alone will take at least a year.” Antakya bore the brunt of a calamity that claimed more than 50,000 lives and tested the leadership of President Recep Tayyip Erdogan ahead of May 14 elections.

Erdogan has made a bold campaign pledge to rebuild the entire disaster zone — originally home to more than 13 million people — by the start of next year. Few of those who remain in the hollowed shell of this city believe him. The stench of decomposing bodies wafts in with the wind from piles of uninspected rubble and random street corners.

Lines of hanging laundry betray signs of life persevering in all the emptiness and ruin. Patches of the old city centre — once a vibrant maze of romantic cafes and boutique shops — remain impassable because of metres-high mounds of debris. Erdogan told the nation on Wednesday that half the rubble had already been cleared from Antakya’s Hatay province. Retiree Gokhan Karaoglan treated Erdogan’s pledges with a healthy dose of scorn.

“It’s been two months and they still haven’t cleared the rubble,” the 54-year-old said. “It will take another three, four or five years. Meanwhile, we live in misery.” The chief engineer at the demolition site said workers were under orders to raze buildings most liable to collapse first. “Even the buildings you still see standing are damaged will eventually be torn down,” Murat Sirma said. “I think very few buildings will remain when this is all over,” said the 45-year-old.