Turkey finds there’s danger in unrestrained economic growth
ISTANBUL: Turks were reminded of the dangers of unrestrained economic growth on Jan. 31, when an explosion at an illegal fireworks factory in Istanbul sent bloodied survivors running for safety as bodies lay on the street outside.
“One of them had his head smashed; I saw his brain,” said Mustafa Guvenbag, 32, a worker in a nearby sock factory who lives close to the area. “They are killing us. Someone has to stop them.”
The explosion killed 22 people and injured about 100.
Unlicensed businesses and those that employ unregistered workers account for almost half of Turkish economic output, which has expanded at an average rate of 7 percent annually over the past five years, according to government estimates.
After the explosion, the district mayor, Murat Aydin, promised to do more to regulate businesses that have proliferated with little oversight. In the Davutpasa district, where the accident occurred, an estimated 20,000 factories have sprung up next door to homes and shops.
“We have been conducting very tight and serious inspections on such factories over the last few years, but this accident shows that we need to do more,” Aydin said.
The destroyed factory was profiting from growing demand for sparklers and skyrockets. Increased incomes have given working-class families the means to afford fireworks for weddings and other celebrations, copying their rich neighbors.
An explosion in a pressure boiler in a denim factory on the second floor of the building caused the blast, Aydin said. The fire spread to the third and fourth floors, igniting materials used to make fireworks and causing a second, more powerful blast.
Metal and concrete debris rained down on an area 42 meters, or 50 yards in diameter, blocking nearby roads and making it difficult for ambulances and aid workers to reach the scene. Most of the people killed were people on the streets outside, or workers in nearby buildings.
The fireworks plant was identified as unlicensed at the end of last year and ordered to submit a permit application, Aydin said. Inspectors who visited the site were told the factory produced plastic toys. The denim plant was also operating illegally and had been shut down by officials four times in the past, according to the mayor.
Municipalities have encouraged entrepreneurs to skirt licensing laws by repeatedly granting amnesties to businesses set up without planning permission and accepting bribes, said Tores Dincoz, a board member at the Chamber of Architects of Turkey.
“How did those explosives get there is one question, and how can the mayor claim his officials thought they were making plastic toys is another one,” Dincoz said. “If this is the way officials conduct inspections, I cant imagine the state of security in this country.”
Following the deaths, the labor minister, Faruk Celik, ordered 800 inspectors to check all businesses in Istanbul to ensure they were being run legally.
Many factories in Davutpasa do not take basic safety precautions such as installing alarms or providing emergency exits and conducting regular machinery inspections, Aydin said. This is particularly dangerous in Davutpasa because a residential area sits about 90 meters away, separated from the plants by a gas station and a soccer field.
At least one-fifth of the areas factories are illegal, with many producing counterfeit money or bootleg raki, the national aniseed-flavored spirit, Referans newspaper reported Tuesday, citing municipal officials. More than 20 people died after being poisoned by fake raki in 2005.
Sprawling suburbs have expanded into industrial areas in Istanbul over the past decade to house a steady stream of migrants from the countryside.
Istanbul needs to move potentially dangerous manufacturing facilities farther away from residences, Aydin said, adding that it would “take years.”
Workers at the fireworks factory used to joke about how safe it was, said Ceniz Sanli, an employee at a nearby button plant. His cousin Sedat Celik, 23, worked in the fireworks plant and died in the hospital two days after the explosion.
The cousins used to eat lunch in Celiks building, sitting near sacks and crates filled with explosives. Celik once held a lighter up to the boxes in an act of bravado.
“He used to say they didnt catch fire that easily,” said Sanli, 24, as he stood in front of the charred ruins of the factory.
Sanli said orders at his cousins factory had slowed recently as shops became reluctant to sell illegal explosives.
After six people died in a similar blast in 2005, city officials began to fine stores carrying illegal fireworks, said Ibrahim, manager of a toy shop in the open market district of Tahtakale.
