Middle East
Asia Times Online
May 12, 2007 

'A bullet at the heart of democracy'

By Dilip Hiro 

Recently, Turkey came close to experiencing a soft military coup. Late last 
month, faced with the prospect of the moderate Islamist Foreign Minister 
Abdullah Gul becoming president, the country's top generals threatened to 
overthrow the elected government under the guise of protecting "secularism". 

When the minority secularist parliamentarians boycotted the poll for president, 
the Constitutional Court, powerfully influenced by the military's threat, 
invalidated Parliament's vote for Gul on the technical grounds that it lacked a 
two-thirds quorum - something that had never been an issue before. 

This demonstrated vividly that secularists are not invariably the good guys 
engaged in a struggle with the irredeemably bad guys from the Islamic camp. 
Prime Minister Recep Tayyip Erdogan of the ruling Justice and Development Party 
(Adalet ve Kalkinma Partisi or AKP) called the court's verdict "a bullet fired 
at the heart of democracy". Other critics pointed out that earlier presidents 
had been elected without the presence of two-thirds of the 550-member 
Parliament. 

Here was an example of the complex interplay between secularism and Islam in a 
Muslim country. The Turkish secular elite, fearing a further loss of power, 
raised the cry of "Secularism in danger!" and got their way - for now - even 
though a recent poll showed that only 22% of Turks agreed with this assessment. 

During its nearly five years in office, the AKP government, led by the 
charismatic, incorruptible Erdogan, has kept religion separate from its 
politics - the sort of behavior the US system used to emphasize - while 
expanding democratic, human, and minority (that is, Kurdish) rights through the 
most thorough overhaul of Turkish laws in recent memory. The AKP has also been 
vigorously pursuing Turkey's full membership in the European Union. 

"The primary reason behind the intervention of the secular establishment was 
not the fear that Turkey would become Islamic," Suat Kiniklioglu, director of 
the German Marshall Fund of the United States' Ankara Office, noted in an 
International Herald Tribune op-ed. "Their fear was that the democratization 
drive, led in part by hopes of entering the European Union, will erode their 
power." 

The present confrontation between the AKP and the secularist establishment, 
with the military at its core (originating with the founding of the Republic in 
1923), is rooted as much in political power and class differences as it is in 
Islam. 

On one side is an affluent, university-educated, Westernized elite, popularly 
known as "the White Turks", which dominates the military, the bureaucracy, the 
judiciary and the Education Ministry; on the other, a coalition of the urban 
underclass and a rising group of prospering entrepreneurs from (Asian) 
Anatolia, which covers 97% of Turkey. Both groups are devoutly Muslim and 
socially conservative. Both have come to value democratic rights and 
governance. 

Torn from landlords, hooked to pious politicians 

The urban underprivileged and the energetic entrepreneurs have, in fact, been 
the primary beneficiaries of the Erdogan administration's adroit management of 
the economy, which has expanded by an annual average of 7% for five years. 
During that period, per capita income has, astoundingly, almost doubled, to 
US$5,500. And foreign investment since 2003 has soared to an unprecedented $50 
billion. 

The alliance of these classes has occurred against the background of a 
multifaceted socio-economic change: the fast-diminishing size of the Turkish 
peasantry as villagers abandon agriculture for better-paying jobs in urban 
centers; a staggering rise in the literacy rate to more than 90%; and the 
gradual loss of the traditional working and lower middle classes. 

Ever since the prosperous mid-1980s, an increasing number of Turks have 
benefited from an unprecedented extension of access to information. They have 
also gained personal mobility through car ownership. Television, telephones and 
cars have become part of everyday life for many Turks. Collectively, they have 
helped the previously underprivileged to think for themselves. 

This is particularly true of the rural migrants into cities such as Istanbul, 
the capital Ankara, and Konya, which together account for a quarter of the 
national population of 71 million. In an unfamiliar, impersonal urban 
environment, they have found their moral and ethical moorings in Islam. And 
they seek solace in the mosque and a caring political institution such as the 
Justice and Development Party and its two antecedents - the Islamist Welfare 
and the Virtue parties. 

Over time, they have also come to realize the power of the ballot - how the 
principle of one-person one-vote, if applied fully, can help to right 
socio-economic wrongs. It was their backing that initially placed the Welfare 
Party in the town halls, inter alia, of Istanbul, Ankara and Konya, and then 
transformed it into the largest single party in Parliament in late 1995 under 
the leadership of Necmettin Erbakan. 

Unlike their counterparts in the secular camp, Welfare Party leaders, who 
derived their moral and ethical values from Islam, were not corrupt. This 
mattered a lot to voters, growing increasingly disenchanted with the corruption 
and factiousness of secular politicians 

Breaking with past party practices, Welfare Party leaders set up social 
networks at the grassroots. Their regular attendance at local mosques - popular 
with traditionally pious rural migrants as well as local traders and artisans - 
helped strengthen the networks. The success of such a strategy can be judged by 
the fact that two-thirds of 2.5 million first-time voters favored the AKP in 
the November 2002 general election, when the year-old party won 363 seats. 

By contrast, such secular factions as the Republican People's Party (RPP) - 
whose boycott of the presidential poll in late April made the Parliament 
inquorate - are stuck in the old, elitist mode of politics. "You talk to the 
AKP people and they try to persuade you," remarked Ali Caroglu, a 
political-science professor in Istanbul. "But the RPP is very judgmental. They 
don't want to talk to the people they don't approve of." 

On being elected mayors in the early 1990s, Welfare leaders drastically reduced 
corruption in town halls and delivered municipal services efficiently. As 
Istanbul's mayor, Erdogan was instrumental in furnishing the metropolis with a 
sorely needed subway system and tramway, as well as providing bread at a 
subsidized price to residents. 

The difference wrought by the Islamist parties was summed up aptly by Omar 
Karatas, leader of the AKP's youth section in Istanbul. "Before, the state was 
up here and the people down there," he said. "Now, there's a harmonization 
between these two groups." 

A tortuous road to democratic power

The road to "harmony" has, however, been tortuous. The progenitor of the 
Islamic factions was the National Salvation Party (NSP), formed by Necmettin 
Erbakan in 1972, which propagated pristine Islamic ideas brazenly. It was 
dissolved, along with other political parties, after a military coup in 1980. 

With the introduction of a new constitution in 1983, political life slowly 
revived. The pre-coup NSP re-emerged as the Welfare Party under Erbakan. In 
mid-1996, as leader of the senior partner in a coalition, he became the prime 
minister. (His cabinet included Abdullah Gul, the AKP's presidential candidate 
in the recent crisis.) 

Within a decade of its founding, the transformation of the Welfare Party - 
treated as a pariah by the White Turks - into the senior constituent of a 
governing coalition was a symptom of democracy striking firm roots in Turkey. 
It invalidated the view - held by most Western commentators - that democracy 
and political Islam are incompatible. In Turkey, it was the secular elite, 
backing military coups against Islamists, that failed the test of democracy. 

Five senior generals tried to forestall Erbakan's premiership. In early 1996, 
as he was trying to form a coalition government, defense sources leaked the 
contents of a secret military-cooperation agreement Turkey had signed with 
Israel a decade earlier. The generals figured that such a revelation would so 
embarrass Erbakan, and alienate him from his Islamist base, that he would 
abandon his prime-ministerial ambitions. But to their chagrin, he persisted. 

As it had done in 1960, 1971 and 1980, the military hierarchy seriously 
considered staging a coup. Yet it could not overlook the drastically changed 
international scene after the collapse of the Soviet Union. 

In earlier years, in the midst of the Cold War, Washington had looked the other 
way when the Turkish generals sent tanks into city squares and arrested all 
politicians. Now, with the North Atlantic Treaty Organization on the verge of 
opening its doors to Poland, Hungary, and the Czech Republic, the US 
administration of president Bill Clinton was emphasizing the importance of 
civilian control over the armed forces to their leaders. A coup by the Turkish 
generals in such circumstances would have made a mockery of this freshly 
stressed NATO principle. 

To leave nothing to chance, however, after several private warnings to the 
Turkish generals, Clinton's secretary of state Madeleine Albright publicly 
urged them "not to exceed the armed forces' authority within the democratic 
system". (In the current crisis, an equivalent role was played by Olli Rehn, 
the EU's commissioner for enlargement, who warned the military to stop meddling 
in the presidential poll. Were the generals to seize power in Ankara, he 
indicated, it would destroy Turkey's chance of becoming an EU member.) 

Instead, the Turkish generals orchestrated a war of attrition against Erbakan 
by briefing the judiciary, the media, and business people on the evils of 
Islamic fundamentalism, while pursuing their own regional foreign policy 
centered on forging a military alliance with Israel. The generals' offensive 
came on the heels of high inflation and unemployment as well as a chronic 
Kurdish insurgency that Erbakan had inherited. He resigned in June 1997. 

Thus the generals achieved their aim by mounting a "soft" coup, a novel 
strategy. 

Seven months later, the Constitutional Court banned Erbakan's party and barred 
him from public life. Yet Islamists remained a political force committed to 
parliamentary democracy. Erbakan managed to play an important role in creating 
the Virtue Party, which emerged as the main opposition party in the 1999 
general election. Not for long, though. 

In June 2001, the Constitutional Court outlawed the Virtue Party, describing it 
as "a focal point of anti-secular activities" - which meant being at the center 
of protests against a ban on the wearing of women's headscarves in government 
offices and educational institutions. 

Head-scarf politics 

Over the past decade, the battle between secularists and Islamists has become 
focused on the symbolic politics surrounding the headscarf, which almost 
invariably is worn in public together with a long coat. The two garments 
constitute modest dress for women according to pious Muslims. In Islam, the 
importance of women donning such dress is attributed to a verse in the Koran 
that enjoins believing women to "cast their veils over their bosoms, and reveal 
not their adornment (zinah), except to their husbands" and other blood-related 
males, as well as female relatives, and children. 

In 1998, the Turkish authorities extended the headscarf ban to universities. 
Protests in response lasted two years. The issue reached a fever pitch in May 
1999 when Merve Kavakci - a US-trained computer engineer and newly elected 
Virtue Party member of Parliament, holding a dual nationality - appeared there 
in a headscarf. 

She argued that nothing in the statute books barred her from doing so. When it 
was discovered that she had not secured permission from the authorities to 
contest a parliamentary seat - as someone with a dual nationality is required 
to do - she was quickly deprived of her Turkish citizenship. 

Her case illustrates the difference between secularism as practiced in Turkey 
and in the United States. The US version guarantees individual religious 
rights, whereas the Turkish version invests the state with the power to 
suppress religious practices in any way it wishes. 

With the general election due on July 22, secularists are trying to push the 
headscarf issue to the top of their campaign. It is easier and more effective 
for them to stress that Gul's wife, Hayrunisa, wears a headscarf than to remind 
the public that he was a member of Islamist Erbakan's government a decade 
earlier. 

"People think that if the first lady wears a headscarf, then many things will 
change, threatening the whole secular system, forcing all women to wear 
headscarves," said Nilufer Naril, a sociology professor in Istanbul. She seemed 
oblivious to the finding of the Turkish Economic and Social Studies Foundation 
that nearly two-thirds of women in Turkey already wear a headscarf. 

By contrast, the AKP is set to contest the upcoming election on its record of 
providing a strong, incorrupt government that has produced impressive economic 
growth and implemented political reform. In desperation, leaders of the RPP, 
the only secular group represented in Parliament, has decided to coalesce with 
a smaller secularist faction to mount a strong challenge to the formidable AKP. 

As yet, though, neither secularist party is showing any sign of abandoning its 
present strategy of building its program around its distrust of the AKP and 
Erdogan. But then, negative thinking seems to have inspired the early 
proponents of secularism in Turkey too. 

"Influenced by the European anti-religious movements of the late 19th and early 
20th centuries, the Turkish secularist elite views religion as a pre-modern 
myth, one that must be extinguished for modernity to blossom," noted Mustafa 
Akyol, deputy editor of the Turkish Daily News. "The outcome of this mindset is 
an authoritarian strategy: political power is to remain in the hands of the 
secularist elite. Thus the 'secular republic' equals the 'republic of seculars' 
- not the republic of all citizens." 

Little wonder that secular fundamentalists in Turkey get along famously with 
the military. 


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dilip Hiro is the author of many books on the Middle East and Central Asia. His 
most recent book is Blood of the Earth: The Battle for the World's Vanishing 
Oil Resources (Nation Books). 

Copyright 2007 Dilip Hiro. Used by permission Tomdispatch

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