A ticking
clock and a shutting trap seem appropriate metaphors for the predicament of
Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy and his team hoping against hope for
“peace” with Russia.
The
“Normandy” leaders’ (Russia, Germany, France, Ukraine) summit in Paris, on
December 9, 2019, started the clock ticking toward the April 2020 summit in
Berlin. There, Zelenskyy is expected to report to the same conclave about
Ukraine’s fulfillment of commitments he has confirmed in the French capital.
The shutting
trap consists of Kyiv’s unilateral concessions to Moscow (to legalize the
Steinmeier Formula, to accept a permanent “special status” for the
Donetsk-Luhansk territory under Russian control). Moscow extracted this price
for agreeing to hold the December summit, which Zelenskyy’s team was avidly
seeking even if it had to pay this heavy cost.
To stop the
ticking clock and to pry the trap door open may still be possible if Kyiv’s
current decision-makers understand that the Kremlin is unreconciled to an
independent sovereign Ukraine—and that Russia’s current president is not even
reconciled to a Ukrainian Ukraine.
President
Zelenskyy offered an impressive public performance at the “Normandy” summit in
Paris. On a personal level, he outtalked and outsmarted Russian President
Vladimir Putin, while on the political level, Zelenskyy adopted certain “red
lines” that Ukraine’s previous government had defended until 2019 and Ukraine’s
active civil society continues defending (e.g., no direct talks with Moscow’s
proxies in Donetsk-Luhansk, no “elections” in the presence of Russian troops
there). Moreover, Zelenskyy unexpectedly called for revisions to the 2015 Minsk
“agreements.” But these positions are a far cry from the summit’s concluding
document, which Ukraine’s leader accepted to Putin’s satisfaction and forms the
sole basis for follow-up negotiations (see EDM, December 9, 11, 12, 2019).
Kyiv is
currently in the process of complying with the Normandy summit’s document.
Moscow, Berlin and Paris, for their part, are ignoring Kyiv’s suggestions to
have the Minsk “agreements” revised. Moscow, moreover, followed up the Normandy
summit by bringing yet another part of Ukraine’s territory—the Black Sea
coastal lands—again into the argument (see EDM, January 14, 2020). Examined on an
issue-by-issue basis, the process is clearly developing against Ukraine’s
interests.
– Ceasefire:
Ukrainian troops lose several killed and wounded every week, mainly to sniper
fire, at a rate that has stabilized since July and continues unabated since the
Normandy summit. Notwithstanding the summit’s collective call for a ceasefire
observance, Moscow will continue this form of attrition warfare on the contact
line, as a form of political pressure on the casualty-averse Ukrainian
leadership.
The
ceasefire, prolonged on December 18, is supposed to be buttressed by Putin’s
assurances to Kyiv that he would restrain the Donetsk-Luhansk forces. Kyiv had
actually requested such assurances, which played into Moscow’s hands by making
it look like a mediator, rather than a direct participant in the conflict
(Ukrinform, December 18, 2019).
– Special
Status: The Ukrainian parliament prolonged the existing law on a “special
regime of local self-government in certain areas of the Donetsk and Luhansk
provinces” (special status law) on December 12, and President Zelenskyy
promulgated it on December 18. This law exists on paper since 2014 and is being
prolonged on an annual basis, but it never went into effect. This time, however,
Kyiv has accepted Moscow’s demand to incorporate the Steinmeier Formula into
this law in 2020.
The
Steinmeier Formula is about bringing the special status law into effect in
conjunction with “elections” in Donetsk-Luhansk. The pro-presidential Servant of
the People party, holding an absolute majority in parliament, ensured smooth
passage, and it can easily do so again for the Steinmeier Formula in 2020, as
has been agreed first with Moscow and then at the Normandy summit (Ukrinform,
December 18, 22, 2019).
Putin acts
as if arm-wrestling Zelenskyy into yielding little by little. “The prolongation
of the special status is a good step in the right direction. But it must be
made permanent, as per the Minsk agreement, and incorporated into Ukraine’s
constitution, also in accordance with the Minsk agreements,” Putin told German
Chancellor Angela Merkel at their recent meeting in Moscow (Kremlin.ru, January
12, 2020).
– Minsk
Revision: Within days of the Normandy summit, Kremlin spokesperson Dmitry
Peskov declared, “If Minsk is to be revised, any changes or additions to it can
only be made by negotiation between Kyiv and the Donetsk and Luhansk people’s
republics; whether in the Minsk Contact Group or outside it” (Interfax,
December 13, 2019). This is fully in line with Moscow’s insistence that Kyiv
must settle the “conflict in Ukraine” by negotiation with Donetsk-Luhansk,
thereby recognizing the latter, with Russia in the facilitator’s role. Kyiv
continues to resist this demand in any context, including that of hypothetical
revisions to the Minsk “agreements.”
It is,
however, indisputable that any revisions would require quadripartite agreement
in the Normandy format, meaning in the first place a negotiation between Kyiv
and Moscow. According to Ukraine’s Foreign Affairs Minister, Vadym Prystaiko,
Kyiv could show some flexibility, accepting “elections” in the Donetsk-Luhansk
territory, in return for Moscow revising the Minsk “agreement” so as to allow
some form of Ukrainian or international control of the Ukraine-Russia border in
that territory (Ukrinform, December 23, 2019). Moscow’s sequence means: “hold
elections first, regain border control after that.” Kyiv’s suggestion via
Prystaiko would not reverse that sequence but would synchronize the two issues.
Chancellor
Merkel had suggested during the Normandy summit that a degree of “elasticity”
was inherent in the Minsk “agreements.” That remark, unprecedented at the
public level, seemed to respond to President Zelenskyy’s pleas in the conclave
to revise those five-year-old documents. But Merkel has not repeated her
suggestion thus far. When she visited with Putin in Moscow, on January 11,
Putin insisted at their joint press conference that the “Minsk agreements have
no alternative [incidentally a typical Merkel expression]. We understand all
the complexities of Ukraine’s internal politics, but the Minsk agreements must
be implemented” (Kremlin.ru, January 11, 2020). For her part, Merkel expected
“further progress at the next [Normandy] summit, in the sequence foreseen by
the Minsk agreements” (Bundeskanzlerin.de, January 12). No hint at “elasticity”
there
Publicat inițial de Eurasia Daily Monitor Volume: 17 Issue: 4 și
republicat cu acceptul autorului
EXECUTIVE
SUMMARY: Brinksmanship may be his trademark, but Turkish president Recep Tayyip
Erdoğan is unlikely to provoke the ire of the international community by
launching a nuclear weapons program. Still, his demand that Turkey has the
right to do so highlights the fracturing of the rules-based international order
as well as changing regional realities.
Turkish
president Recep Tayyip Erdoğan’s questioning of the international order with
regard to nuclear weapons may well reflect the unspoken thinking of other
regional leaders in a world in which the US has withdrawn from the Intermediate-Range Nuclear Forces
Treaty with Russia and unilaterally walked away from the 2015
international nuclear agreement with Iran, and in which countries like China
and Russia are willing to sell nuclear technology as well as arms with few, if
any, safeguards. In addition, the international community has failed to prevent
Pakistan and North Korea from becoming nuclear powers.
The American
withdrawals from the agreements with Russia and Iran are but two examples of a
far broader breakdown in adherence to international law, norms, and procedures
fueled by President Donald Trump’s disdain for key pillars of the US-led,
post-WWII order.
America’s
rivals, China and Russia, as well as Iran, Turkey, and Saudi Arabia, have
countered US unilateralism with calls for a strengthening of multilateralism –
albeit one in which they can use the arms trade to leverage their geopolitical
weight and fight wars with absolute disregard for the human consequences, and
brutally repress minorities of any ethnic, religious, or political stripe.
Trump’s
“America First” approach has emboldened leaders backed by Russia and China, including
Erdoğan, to more aggressively challenge the existing order and more blatantly
violate its underpinnings.
At first
glance, Erdoğan’s recent insistence on the 100th anniversary of the Sivas Congress, which laid the groundwork for an
independent Turkish republic, that it was unacceptable for nuclear-armed
countries to prevent his country from developing nuclear weapons makes perfect
sense.
Turkey lives
in a neighborhood pockmarked by violent conflict in which arms are the name of the game. If that were
not enough, Turkey is surrounded by real and would-be nuclear powers.
The Gulf
states, two of which – Saudi Arabia and the UAE – have no love for Turkey, are
among the world’s biggest military spenders.
Israel,
another Middle Eastern nation with which Turkey is at odds, sees military and
technological supremacy as the core of its defense strategy and has long hinted
but never publicly confirmed its nuclear capability.
Pakistan, a
nuclear power locked in escalating tensions with India over Kashmir, bristles
with weaponry.
Iran,
despite strident denials, is suspected of wanting to be a nuclear power and
having the capacity to become one, particularly if it ultimately ditches the
2015 international agreement.
The Iranian
move heightens the risk of a nuclear race in the Middle East with Saudi
Arabia, believed to be putting preliminary building blocks in place,
making no bones about its willingness to match any nuclear capability that Iran
may acquire.
Erdoğan’s
demand for the right to develop nuclear weapons is as much a response to
regional and global developments as it is an opportunistic effort to bolster his
troubled bid to position Turkey as a leader of the Muslim world.
Demanding
the right to develop nuclear weapons serves Erdoğan’s purpose even if doing so
may not. Domestically, it allows Erdoğan to project himself as a leader who
fights for what Turkey thinks should be its rightful place in the international
pecking order. Globally, it is a way to exploit challenges to an international
order that Erdoğan sees as holding his country back.
Says Turkish
author and journalist Kaya Genc: “It has taken [Erdoğan] 16 years to forge what
he calls ‘the new Turkey,’ an economically self-reliant country with a
marginalized opposition and a subservient press… Erdoğan’s great challenge over
the next decade…will be to convince voters that his mixture of anger and
patience is still a model to follow, that his formation story can continue to
inspire, and that only his unassailable ability can steer Turkey to safety.
Erdoğan will no doubt do everything in his power to succeed at this daunting
task.”
Dr. James M.
Dorsey, a non-resident Senior Associate at the BESA Center,is a senior fellow at the S.
Rajaratnam School of International Studies at Singapore’s Nanyang Technological
Universityand co-director of the University of Würzburg’s Institute for
Fan Culture.
First
published at besacenter.org, BESA Center Perspectives Paper No. 1,306, October
6, 2019
Certainties that had defined Turkish
politics for a generation were thrown into doubt by the overwhelming victory
Istanbul voters handed the opposition CHP party’s mayoral candidate Ekrem
İmamoǧlu on June 23, 2019. Voters responded with righteous and smoldering
fury to the ruling AKP party’s blatant tampering with the democratic process after
it had annulled İmamoǧlu’s previous, and much closer, victory over the AKP’s
candidate Binali Yıldırım on March 31, forcing a new election for mayor of the
Greater Istanbul Municipality. While not the first electoral setback Turkish
President and AKP party leader Recep Tayyip Erdoǧan has faced, it was the first
time his own actions boomeranged so pointedly against his own agenda.
The election
results could not be clearer. In spite of blatant efforts to dampen turnout
from an electorate exhausted from eight elections in as many years, an
astounding 84.5 percent of the 10.5 million eligible voters
showed up at the polls, handing a clear 54 to 45 percent victory to
İmamoǧlu—raising the tally of his narrow initial victory from 13,000 to over
800,000 votes.
The voters’
rebuke of the AKP registered even more strongly in certain districts. Lopsided
CHP victories in left-leaning Beşiktaş (84 percent) and Kadıköy (82 percent)
were hardly surprising, although even those margins increased. More surprising,
however, was İmamoǧlu’s healthy victory in Üsküdar (54 percent), an AKP stronghold
where Erdoǧan maintains his Istanbul residence, and which benefits from
extensive government patronage in the form of the massive Ҫamlıca mosque,
waterfront renovation and transportation improvements.
But
downright shocking was İmamoǧlu’s razor-thin victory in Fatih (49 percent),
Istanbul’s most notoriously pious district, and long a bedrock of AKP support.
While the governing party did carry a handful of districts, the only locale
where they won by a wide margin was Arnavutköy, the district housing the new
airport, and thus largely populated by those profiting in one way or another
from that colossal project.
When
preliminary results were broadcast, at 7:17pm local time, spontaneous
celebrations broke out in several neighborhoods, including the cosmopolitan and
diverse Kurtuluş neighborhood, where cheering, whistling, tencere tava (pots
and pans) banging, and communal chants continued for nearly 20 minutes. In the
days that followed, the mood noticeably lightened, and as one Roma musician put
it, “I feel much more comfortable and relaxed after the election.”
While the
loss of one mayoral seat by itself cannot by itself upset the well-entrenched
executive power amassed by the increasingly authoritarian President Erdoǧan and
the AKP over the past few years, shockwaves from this setback are already
having reverberations, most importantly within the AKP party itself. Moreover,
an anatomy of the build-up to the Istanbul election re-run reveals a much more
fractious and resistant terrain of popular discontent with the AKP’s bully
politics and its fraying legitimation than is often understood. Whether these
diffuse lines of dissent will add up to a larger wave may have to await the
outcome of major challenges confronting the Turkish state and economy in the
coming year.
Everything’s Going to Be Great
The seeds
for the AKP’s Istanbul re-run defeat were planted by its own actions in the
previous election—which were then magnified by the bumbling way it forced and
then ran the new election campaign.
The March 31 municipality elections had
already set AKP’s historic grip over Turkish politics back, as the party lost
control over several key municipalities, including Ankara, Antalya, Adana, and
Mersin. When, much to the surprise of most observers, CHP’s Ekrem İmamoǧlu
emerged victorious by a razor-thin margin in Istanbul, the defeat appeared
complete. Incensed, many AKP supporters alleged electoral fraud, foreign
interference, cheating and numerous other alleged improprieties regarding their
close Istanbul loss. After days of CHP party observers sleeping on ballot bags
to prevent tampering while waiting for İmamoǧlu’s certification as Istanbul’s
next mayor, on May 6, the Supreme Electoral Commission (YSK) Chair Sadi Güven
announced that “certain procedural irregularities” necessitated the
cancellation of Istanbul’s election results, forcing a special election.
Popular
outrage at the AKP’s inference was instantaneous, with tencere tava
protests breaking out throughout city neighborhoods, and marchers streaming
into streets throughout leftist Kadıköy. In Beşiktaş, another leftist
neighborhood, protesters chanted “thief Tayyip Erdoǧan” as they marched.
Activists immediately debated whether to boycott the special election, protest,
call a general strike, or just mount a second campaign.
Some were
eager to return to the Gezi Park protests, while others cautioned that those
2013 protests proved a political failure which only strengthened Erdoǧan’s hold
on power. Following İmamoǧlu’s lead, most government opponents decided to
redouble their efforts, engage in electoral politics, and do their best to
contribute to a repeat victory.
The AKP then
provoked popular sensibilities by its decision to hold the special election on
a popular holiday weekend days after schools had let out for the summer.
Incensed Istanbul residents began changing their holiday plans to ensure
their presence on that date. Many suspected that government officials, sensing
popular frustration with having to vote twice, picked June 23 to suppress
turnout by maximizing the impact of university students returning home for the
break and family beach vacations.
In
solidarity, coastal towns like Datça announced they would close their beach on election day so
that Istanbul residents could vote. In a reversal of the “when hell freezes
over” expression, Bodrum’s district council produced a tongue-in-cheek travel
advisory announcing that since heavy snowfall was anticipated for late June,
their beaches would also be closed. Within days, travel companies reported that
nearly 100 percent of Istanbul travel reservations had been canceled for June 23.
As vacation
plans were being adjusted, Ekrem İmamoǧlu stumbled into what became the slogan
of the season. While campaigning, a boy came up and assured him that
“everything’s going to be great.” Driven by social media spins on the phrase,
his campaign immediately adopted the slogan. Noticeably contrasting with
Erdoǧan’s survivalist rhetoric of recent years, much of the electorate came to
adopt the slogan as their own, as the twitter handle “#hersey_guzel_olacak”
(everything’s going to be great) gained momentum and supportive social media
satire spread.
One
cigarette booth posted a sign with the handle, stating in Turkish “Ekrem bro,
should your sex tape ever come out, don’t retract, we all do the act.”
Referencing recent cases where sex tapes had sunk the careers of various
opposition politicians, the sign playfully suggested that this time nothing
would turn the electorate back, as the “don’t retract” phrase was lifted
straight from one of pop singer Tarkan’s most famous lyrics, itself a Turkish take on Edith
Piaff’s long celebrated sentiment, “Je
ne regrette rien.” Another joke expressed the
electorate’s frustration with AKP’s refusal to accept the results, stating
“There are three things you never choose: your place of birth, your family, and
the Istanbul mayor.”
The AKP’s Bad Optics
While
opposition supporters skewered the AKP-backed election cancellation, some
government supporters attempted to whip up conspiracy-driven fears about the
consequences of Istanbul municipal elections. On 10 May, Yeni Şafak’s
provocateur journalist Ibrahim Karagül railed about multi-national interference
from foreign crusaders and spies, working
alongside domestic traitors, all aiming to reverse Turkish sovereignty over the
megalopolis, dating back to 1453. Characterizing İmamoǧlu as part of an
international conspiracy to partition Istanbul off from the rest
of the country, Karagül in a single column conjured up the 2015 failed coup,
the specter of Istanbul’s long history as a strategic prize and Great Power
attempts during the 1919 Paris Peace Conference to declare Istanbul and the
Straits an International Zone.
But with
İmamoǧlu offering free hugs to all, and posters featuring his smiling face
spread all over town—and previous respect for AKP’s machismo style of
authoritarian rule dissolving into satire or bitterness—the AKP leadership
decided a softer tone was needed, though even this was fumbled.
While
Erdoǧan spent most of May and early June in Ramadan occlusion, Binali Yıldırım
stopped making divisive comments, softened his rhetoric and even started taking
selfies with constituents. When asked about his support amongst the youth,
Yıldırım officiously stated that “the
youth are my kanka,” or “good buddy,” leading to a
plethora of memes ridiculing the thought of any young person being the elderly
politician’s kanka, itself a somewhat slang term. At one point, during a
photo-op, one prankster walked up, kissed Yıldırım on the cheek, and addressed
him as “my new kanka.”
In another
example of campaign optics gone wrong, after Ekrem İmamoǧlu was photographed
sitting on the floor with a poor family breaking iftar fast, Binali
Yıldırım followed suit, also sitting on the floor for an iftar photo
shoot. As with much else in his disastrous campaign, the AKP politician’s drive
for an “everyman” shot was ruined by the ornate dining room table plainly
visible in the background.
Before long,
İmamoǧlu’s viral slogan “everything’s going to be great” evolved into a protest
chant. On May 14, after a street rally commemorating the five year anniversary
of the Soma mining disaster chanted the
slogan and was broken up by police, the Istanbul governor prohibited its use
on protest signs.
Seemingly
bereft of campaign ideas, AKP floated its own slogan “everything’s going to be
even greater,” touching off widespread laughter before its rapid retirement.
After that slogan crashed and burned, Binali Yıldırım’s team decided to go with
“we did it, and we’ll do it again.” Attempting to generate excitement, youth
from Başakşehir, a wealthy suburb characterized by modern high rise apartment
buildings filled with Anatolian business elites, offered a rap homage to the slogan.
Commenting on candidate Yıldırım’s complete lack of experience in municipal
management, one wag asked “what did you do besides lose an election? And you
will lose again.”
In another
sign of the public’s turn against AKP, Medipol Başakşehir, a relative
newcomer to the Turkish premier league and the Istanbul Municipality’s official
team since 2014, played in front of a half-full stadium when it lost to Galatasaray in the Süper Lig’s
deciding match on May 19. In the leadup to the game, some Galatasaray fans
likened the match to stopping facism, and the absence of home fans clearly
demonstrated the low popularity of AKP’s team, which boasts a minuscule fan
base compared to Istanbul’s three great clubs, even after five years of heavy
promotion.
AKP
officials even managed to alienate those who might prefer their support for
conservative Islamic values. At one point, the government canceled the Saʻadet
(Felicity) Party leader’s passport, labeling him a “terrorist” and preventing
his travel. This did not sit well with many conservative voters, as AKP had
originally sprung from the Refah (Welfare) Party, the same party which Saʻadet
had emerged from. As many conservative voters saw it, with that move AKP was
betraying its own roots.
By the end
of the second campaign, a widespread sense of popular ennui, combined with AKP
dread of the results to come, descended over the metropolis. Throughout these
weeks, an absence of key supporters left the impression that AKP leaders had
hung Binali Yıldırım out to dry, with his series of awkward missteps suggesting
that his heart, or ego, did not relish the opportunity to fall on the sword for
the party’s sake. In addition to Erdoǧan’s occlusion, MHP leader and coalition
partner Devlet Bahçeli had pledged to “set up camp” in Istanbul to campaign for
their joint ticket, but only ended up making a single perfunctory appearance.
A week
before the election the two candidates held a televised debate, during which
the contrast between the charismatic Ekrem Abi (Brother Ekrem) and a
weary Yıldırım appeared for all to see. In terms of policy, İmamoǧlu promised
to open women’s shelters and over 150 childcare centers in neighborhoods
lacking one. Then İmamoǧlu unveiled a plan to expand Istanbul’s notoriously
meagre green space, featuring a large green belt to be knit together around the
city’s current urbanized core. In response, Yıldırım pulled out his own map,
which offered to open “green corridors” in and around Istanbul. While aware of
the widespread public criticism of years of pouring cement, labeling his
proposed green spaces “corridors” and spreading such small green spots
throughout the city suggested continuity with today’s concrete Istanbul.
The AKP’s Electoral Desperation
In the final
days before the election, Ekrem İmamoǧlu returned to his native Black Sea
region, where he led massive rallies in Trabzon, Rize and Ordu, seen as a
rehearsal for running on a national stage. Refusing to cede any district, he
held his final rallies in front of adoring crowds in the perennial AKP
strongholds of Eyüp Sultan, Sultanbeyli and Üsküdar.
While
completing his campaign tour, pro-AKP social media activists referred to
İmamoǧlu as “Pontic,” a slur referring to the former ethnic Greek population of
the region—at which point the Black Sea region erupted in social media anger
against AKP. A week after E-Day, former AKP member of parliament Ayhan Sefer
Üstün revealed that a rogue AKP troll operation, code-named “Pelikan,” was responsible
for originating such dirty tricks campaigning in the weeks before the special
election. Once this operation became public, observers came to suspect that they
had been leading the AKP campaign strategy all along and blamed them for both
the “Pontic” slur and the Öcalan letter of the same week.
In an
apparent desperation move, government officials allowed Abdullah “Apo” Öcalan,
the jailed PKK leader, to release a letter urging Kurdish voters
to remain neutral for the second round,
released by the state Anadolu Agency and delivered
via Ali Kemal Özcan, a previously unknown scholar permitted
to meet Apo after years of requesting such visitation. As the letter was not
delivered via the law office normally tasked with Öcalan communications, but
rather by a relative unknown whom the government finally “saw fit” to allow a visit, many Kurdish nationalists questioned if the
letter was even real.
Skepticism
was confirmed when former HDP party chief and Kurdish civil society leader,
Selahattin Demirtaş, urged HDP voters to stay the course and vote their
conscience, in a set of tweets which included a
scathing indirect mention of the letter. As a result of this clear division in
opinion between the PKK leader long held at İmralı island and the detained HDP
leader, observers now see a potential reset in relations between the two
Kurdish groupings, which was impossible to imagine just a few years ago, when
the PKK (sometimes violently) enforced tight control over its civil society
partners within the Kurdish community. Effectively, AKP’s election machinations
may have enabled the further growth and elaboration of a Kurdish civil society
movement advocating for peace and human rights.
Then, two
days prior to the election, the municipal corporation “Istanbul Sea Buses
(İDO)” announced the suspension of Marmara Sea ferry service going into
Istanbul from that point through the election. That this service interruption
was announced for a summer weekend, usually the busiest period for ferry
traffic, and with no explanation offered beyond “schedule changes,” did not go
unnoticed. Immediately afterward, Turkish Airlines announced several cancellations of E-Day flights
scheduled to reach the city before polls were to close, all alleged to be
coming from AKP controlled cities, and including several originating in
Antakya/Hatay. Even individual vehicles reportedly faced special roving police roadblocks on routes heading
toward the city that last weekend. All such measures fell far short of slowing
Istanbul vacationers’ long march home, as shown by fully vacated Northern Aegean beaches on the eve of
E-Day.
After weeks
of absence, President Erdoǧan re-emerged the last week before the election.
Offering his usual divisive rhetoric about dark forces threatening the state,
he urged on his supporters by stating that only an AKP election victory could
ensure the state’s “survival.” Observers attending rallies throughout that week
sensed tepid support in the ranks.
As something
of an allegory for their entire failed campaign, on June 27 it was reported
that AKP had bused in voters from all over the country, only to leave them
stranded in Istanbul after their defeat. The sister of one AKP columnist, Süleyman
Özışık, could find no bus to return her home after the vote. Although the party
had promised her round trip tickets, she and others in her situation found
themselves stranded at the city’s sprawling Esenler bus station.
After repeatedly calling for help, one exasperated party official shouted at
her and hung up.
Preliminary Diagnosis
In the
aftermath of the Istanbul landslide, coupled with the nationwide losses in the
earlier round, President Erdoǧan now finds himself living something of a
Shakespearean nightmare. Like Hamlet, following the election, he
accused half of his brain trust of “stabbing him in the back,” even while he
begged the other half to return to his fold. Unaccustomed to projecting
weakness, the embattled president now appears to be facing up to the reality of
what one voter referred to as the “biat (submission) culture.” In such a
cultural construct, a leader’s supporters can decide to take it upon themselves
to safeguard the leader, rendering it impossible to maintain active control. In
addition, such reliance on personal charisma means that even an exceedingly
powerful leader can rapidly lose popular support in the face of a setback.
In addition,
serious signs of stress have appeared within the AKP. Some party leaders are
attempting to reign in their own strongman, while others have chosen to defect.
Some have now started asking what Erdoǧan has accomplished in the months since
he was granted increased presidential powers following the 2017 constitutional reform referendum, which he
justified at the time as being necessary to accomplish more without sacrificing
his freedom of action as President. At this point, it seems all he has
accomplished is leading his party to a nationwide election loss.
Party
leaders are even now attempting to curb Erdoǧan’s power, with some
discussions even hinting at his being pushed out of the party altogether, while
the formation of splinter parties is under wide discussion. When the party’s
High Advisory Council met for the first time after the election, both important
former AKP leaders Abdullah Gül and Ahmet Davutoǧlu declined to participate,
but the other big names said to be present voted themselves a salary increase
above that already offered by previous party bylaws. Concurrently the party’s
central executive committee has met several times, with one member admitting
that “committees are not functioning – it is
only the president and his people.” Others report that Erdoǧan can no longer
simply impose decisions on the party due to
the broad nature of the internal criticism.
In a further
example of internal fracturing, AKP’s economic guru, Ali Babacan, quit the
party on July 13, announcing his intention to found a new party, which polls
suggest would grab some 18 percent of AKP supporters. Widely
renowned for his success working together with technocrat colleagues such as Kemal Derviş, the former UNDP Director
pledged to follow the principles of an “advanced democracy”, offering
personal red lines in support of the rule of law and separation of powers.
Demonstrating the emergent power of this potential party, former President
Abdullah Gül has apparently agreed to take an elder statesman (abi) role within the party, as
a political advisor.
Former
Minister of Foreign Affairs Ahmet Davutoǧlu, who crafted Turkey’s “zero
problems” shift towards the Middle East and Central Asia when AKP first took
power over a decade ago, discussed joining forces with Babacan, but ultimately
decided to form his own rival party. As a result, at this point, it appears
likely that not one, but two, cloned AKP parties may enter the fray.
But beyond
the popular anger at AKP’s electoral tactics lies a deeper shift in the
electorate, which might prove more damaging to AKP’s long term prospects than
any single setback could. Younger voters from religious families are said to be
turning against AKP, perhaps due to
the corruption and unbridled crony capitalism that the party has come to
embody.
Other
changes may be due to refugee populations, particularly from Syria, settling in
neighborhoods throughout the metropolitan area, itself touching off both a
backlash against AKP policy commitments and a change in neighborhood
demographics. Frustration among the Istanbul electorate at AKP-sanctioned urban
gentrification, fueled in part by wealthy Gulf Arab investment, has only grown
more acute in the past 3-5 years with the influx and settlement of conflict
refugees from south of the border. Such frustration, often tinged with veiled
racism, has led some to characterize Erdoǧan as more of an advocate for the
three million Syrian refugees than a Turkish president.
Behind the
AKP’s unpopularity and internal chaos looms a long-anticipated economic crisis, a perfect storm
bringing together impressively deep government debt, pending austerity measures
following an over-extension of infrastructure investment, and the collapse of
the long overheated construction sector. Signs of desperation in Ankara abound,
with some observers expecting the government to print money or raid the
national “contingency fund” (yedek akçe) at any moment. While
nobody knows quite what to expect next, a period of political flux appears to
be opening up. While Erdoǧan is a clever survivor, he has only shown escalation
over the past decade, whereas restraint and humility seem to be what the
Turkish public is calling for.
Author’s
Note:
I want to thank Tracy M. Lord for her generous assistance collecting the
research for this publication.
Nabil Al-Tikriti “Autopsy of Erdoǧan’s Istanbul Defeat,” Middle East Report Online, September 12, 2019, www.merip.org
Nota blogului:Decizia recentă a lui Ahmed Davutoglu și a altor cîțiva lideri AKP de a demisiona din partid, ca urmare a unei propuneri de a fi excluși, poate marca începutul fracționării AKP dar și cel al finalului epocii Eordogan, care desigur se va petrece într-un timp de mai mulți ani, cel mai probabil.