<http://www.merip.org/mero/mero050707.html>
Behind Turkey's Presidential Battle
Gamze Çavdar
May 7, 2007

(Gamze Çavdar is an assistant professor of political science at
Colorado State University.)

"This is a bullet fired at democracy," snapped Recep Tayyıp Erdoğan,
Turkey's prime minister and chairman of the country's ruling party, in
reaction to the May 1 ruling by the Constitutional Court. The court
had validated a maneuver by the opposition party in Parliament to
block the nomination of Erdoğan's foreign minister, Abdullah Gül, to
accede to the presidency of the Turkish Republic. To deny the ruling
party the quorum it needed to make Gül president, the opposition
deputies simply stayed home. The pro-government parliamentarians voted
on the candidate anyway, but the Constitutional Court agreed with the
opposition's contention that the balloting was illegal -- and thus
null and void. After Parliament tried and failed again to elect Gül
president on May 6, he withdrew his candidacy.

As stipulated by the Turkish constitution, the president is chosen by
two-thirds majority of the Grand National Assembly, currently
dominated by the Justice and Development Party (in Turkish, Adalet ve
Kalkınma Partisi, or AKP). Built in 2001 upon the ashes of two
Islamist parties, the Welfare Party and the Virtue Party, the AKP,
sometimes called a "soft Islamist" or "neo-Islamist" party, formed a
majority government after winning the November 2002 legislative
elections. Its preponderance of seats in the 550-member parliament
gives the AKP the prerogative of nominating a candidate to be the next
president.

The AKP government has drawn immense attention from domestic and
international analysts because, contrary to widespread images of
Islamist parties, it has adopted an ideology of "conservative
democracy" and adapted itself to work within a secular system. The AKP
says it is uninterested in establishing the rule of Islamic law.
Nonetheless, skeptics in Turkey have come to believe that the AKP's
moderation is just a cover for an unadulterated Islamist agenda.
Hardly a day goes by without nervous talk of the Islamist threat
(referred to as irtica, or "regression") and discussion of how to
thwart it, including the possibility of military intervention to
safeguard state secularism, defined as state control over religion and
religious expression. The major actors in the secular political bloc,
including the outgoing president, the chief of staff of the Turkish
military, the main opposition party and the mainstream media, all
raised their voices months ago against the presidential candidacy of
an AKP politician -- expected then to be Erdoğan himself. Just behind
the surface of public anti-AKP activity, many Turks see the "deep
state," a shadowy nexus of military and police officers and militants
on the far right.

Turkey now faces the prospect of a lengthy battle over who will be its
next president. Erdoğan has upped the ante by demanding that
parliamentary elections slated for November be moved up to the summer
-- they are now scheduled for July 22 -- and that the president be
elected by popular vote. The presidential and parliamentary contests
are the latest round in the long-running fight between the AKP and its
state secularist detractors, a fight whose outcome carries great
importance for the political future of Turkey. But just as important
are the systemic economic, social and political crises whose warning
sirens are drowned out, and whose resolution is delayed, in the din of
the Islamist-secularist divide.

KEEPER OF THE KEMALIST FLAME

Choosing a president has often been a source of troubles for the
Turkish Republic. Following the death of founding father Mustafa Kemal
Atatürk, the transition to civilian presidents was anything but
smooth, as the civilians needed the backing of the recalcitrant
military to be effective. The first experiment with a civilian
president turned catastrophic. Celal Bayar, who served from 1950 to
1960, was sentenced to prison by a military tribunal following a coup.
In 1973, civilian politicians and the armed forces failed to settle on
a candidate, resulting in a prolonged deadlock that was finally
overcome after the parties agreed the presidency would pass to Fahri
Korutürk, a former admiral. The parliament's futile efforts to select
Korutürk's successor came to symbolize the legislature's incapacity
and deepened ideological cleavages among political parties, eventually
leading to another military takeover in 1980. Top-ranked generals
strongly opposed the eighth president, Turgut Özal, whose tenure
remained controversial up to his death in 1993.

This time, the stakes are even higher for opponents of the prospective
civilian president, who are concerned not only about the AKP leaders'
Islamist background, but also the increased powers vested in the
office of president. The 1982 constitution, a product of the 1980
coup, reinstituted the parliamentary system of the 1961 constitution,
but also granted the president extensive clout. The president, as a
result, shares with the cabinet and Parliament the power to promulgate
laws and ratify treaties, while enjoying exclusive authority in other
areas, such as appointing university presidents and members of the
highest courts. Article 105 of the constitution places a further check
on the elected government, stating that "no appeal shall be made to
any legal authority, including the Constitutional Court, against the
decisions and orders signed by the president of the Republic on his
own initiatives." Turkish presidents' powers therefore go beyond the
merely symbolic role exercised by heads of state in the typical
parliamentary system. The Turkish system is, in fact, close to being a
"dual executive" that combines a cabinet and prime minister who are
directly accountable to the electorate with a president who is not.
The military designed this system intentionally, to hamstring elected
governments that might be controlled by parties uncongenial to the
military's policy preferences.

During the lengthy standoff between the AKP's Islamist forebears and
the state, the office of the president played the role expected of it
by the army, "containing" the prime minister and Parliament, and
facilitating the "soft coup" that brought down a coalition government
led by Necmettin Erbakan of the Welfare Party in 1997. President
Süleyman Demirel was head of the National Security Council that issued
the so-called February 28 measures curbing the power of Islamist
activism and eventually forcing the coalition government to resign.[1]
Since then, the president's office, more than at any previous time,
has become regarded as the keeper of the secular Kemalist flame within
the state.

During the term of the outgoing president, Ahmet Necdet Sezer, there
was not so subtle tension between his office and the AKP. Sezer vetoed
a considerable number of AKP-proposed bills, organized university
professors against the AKP-controlled Ministry of Education and often
warned the public against "the rising Islamist threat." Among the
bills he vetoed was one that allowed graduates of İmam Hatip schools
-- secondary schools that train Muslim preachers -- to study in
non-religious departments of universities and become public officials,
such as judges, teachers and governors. Despite the fact that many of
its supporters and deputies, including Erdoğan, are İmam Hatip
graduates, the AKP-dominated parliament opted to shelve the
controversial bill for the duration of Sezer's term, so as not to
antagonize him further.

Sezer's most significant legacy was to interpret a previous
Constitutional Court decision that defined the scope of the public
sphere in which the mores of state secularism apply. (Sezer had been a
sitting judge on the Court when it sent down the decision.)
Secularized spaces were now to include the presidential palace and
other halls of state, and so, by definition, these were places from
which women who wear a headscarf, as per their interpretation of
Islam's dictates, were to be excluded. Official occasions of state,
regardless of locale, were also to be devoid of reference to religion.
Given that the wives of many AKP ministers and MPs cover their heads,
Sezer's new principle directly targeted the government.

SENDOFFS AND RECEPTIONS

In the spring of 2007, the debates about possible candidates for
president have been as much about their respective wives as the
candidates' own qualities. When speculation first arose that Erdoğan
would be the candidate, the fact that his wife wears the headscarf was
cited to disqualify him. The mainstream media divided all the possible
AKP candidates into two groups -- those whose wives wear the headscarf
and those whose wives do not. When Erdoğan bowed out in favor of Gül,
who belongs to the former group, the first major concern in the press
was his wife's headscarf.

Ironically, during its election campaign in 2002, the AKP had been
careful to choose as its female candidates only women who did not
cover their heads, precisely to avoid this sort of hubbub. But, as
soon as the AKP government was formed in late 2002, the mainstream
secular media engaged in a sort of contest to count up the cabinet
members whose wives wore headscarves. Would they participate in state
ceremonies? The speculation did not last long, for the day after he
was elected as speaker of Parliament, Bülent Arınç escorted his
headscarf-wearing wife to the airport for President Sezer's official
sendoff to a NATO meeting. "From now on," wrote the famous journalist
Hasan Pulur, "the headscarf will be the norm…. Those who do not wear
it will come under pressure to cover their heads."[2]

The man most associated with the legal principle precipitating the
controversy, Sezer, left the country just as the debates heated up.
His "clarification," a reference to a previous controversy over women
who covered their heads on the campuses of public universities, came
only a few days later:

The [Constitutional Court] canceled the legal arrangement that
permitted wearing headscarves in universities by saying that it is
against the constitution. According to the decisions of the court, it
is not possible to prepare a legal arrangement that will permit
wearing the headscarf in public places, as that would be against the
constitution. Ignoring the legal rules that bring order to the public
arena and trying to make religious rules valid in practice contradict
the principle of the rule of law. I would like to stress once again
that it is not possible to give up the basic principles of the
republic.[3]

Senior generals joined the fray in their own peculiar way. Their
calculated reaction tried to strike a balance between getting their
message out and avoiding accusations of military interference in
politics. As part of state tradition, top brass, including the chief
of general staff, paid a visit to Arınç to congratulate him on his new
post. Accompanied by an army of journalists waiting to report on their
reactions, the generals posed happily for the cameras. After the
journalists left, the generals reportedly conveyed their best wishes
to Arınç, and then suddenly stood up and left.[4] The message of the
truncated visit was unmistakable.

With the generals' support, the anti-headscarf coalition at the top of
the state was complete. In his next trip abroad, Sezer left his wife
at home, perhaps to ensure the absence of Arınç's wife from the
departure ceremony. Thus began the bizarre practice, repeated upon
every official occasion, of leaving the headscarf-wearing women at
home so as not to offend the "state feminist" sensibilities of the
male-dominated secular establishment. It is a tradition for the
president to hold celebrations on national days in the presidential
palace. After an initial period of confusion, the office of the
president "successfully" identified those MPs whose spouses wore
headscarves and sent them "MP-only" invitations. Other MPs whose wives
did not cover their heads were sent invitations for two. Neither the
wife of the prime minister, nor that of the deputy prime minister, has
attended a single one of these ceremonies since the AKP came to power.
Top AKP leaders like Erdoğan always left their wives at home, while
party back-benchers sent their invitations back to the president's
office in protest, resulting in the exclusion of their names from the
next guest list. One MP whose name was dropped in 2006 had a brief
rejoinder: "Next year, we will have a headscarved reception at the
presidential palace."[5] Again, the message was crystal-clear.

CALLS FOR "RESCUE"

Questions about the 2007 presidential nomination arose as soon as the
AKP received 34 percent of the vote in the 2002 elections. Thanks to
Turkey's election law, this vote translated into 66 percent of the
seats in Parliament. The only other party that passed the 10 percent
threshold required for a seat in Parliament was the Republican
People's Party. It was clear that, unless early elections were held,
the AKP was going to choose the president.

As early as 2005, the leader of the Republican People's Party, Deniz
Baykal, called for early elections in the hope that his party would
benefit. Erdoğan carefully avoided speculating about presidential
candidates, but refused the early election option, insisting that the
current parliament would designate the next president. Without
mentioning a name, Erdoğan said the president should "represent the
entire country and should be a person capable of creating an
environment that could facilitate peace, love, unity and
friendship."[6] This description did nothing but stir up more
speculation.

In the spring of 2006, Süleyman Demirel, the ninth president, lent a
new momentum to the discussions. Demirel declared that, because the
AKP did not receive a majority of votes in the 2002 parliamentary
elections, but only a plurality, a new president elected by the AKP
would be a lame duck.[7] In addition to lacking legitimacy, Demirel
argued, the AKP remained under suspicion of "dissimulation" (takiye),
a reference to its failure to convince the entire public that it has
fully acquiesced in the secularism of Atatürk. Under this cloud,
Erdoğan would lack credibility even if chosen president. Demirel
offered a solution: The president should be elected by popular vote.

In the meantime, a series of events shook the country, putting the AKP
government further on the defensive. Perhaps the most significant was
an armed attack on the Council of State, the highest administrative
court, which killed one judge and wounded four others. The gunman, a
lawyer, reportedly shouted "I am a soldier of Allah" before opening
fire during a court session. The Council of State had previously
upheld the headscarf ban for government employees and university
students, drawing open criticism from AKP leaders, who insist that
Turkey's definition of secularism be adjusted to make room for
ordinary displays of piety. The incident was an isolated one and was
condemned by the government. Nevertheless, it quickly heightened the
already building tension between the AKP cabinet and other state
institutions, particularly the courts. Anti-AKP protests accompanied
the judge's funeral. Can Dündar, a prominent journalist, held Erdoğan
personally responsible, for inciting anti-court propaganda in media
outlets and neglecting judges' earlier demands for extra security.[8]
Others implied that the attack was planned by the "deep state" to
jeopardize the AKP's position. As Ali Bayramoğlu wrote in Yeni Şafak,
a pro-AKP newspaper: "For certain circles, presidential elections
signify so much that they could take steps to undermine stability in
the country."[9] Yeni Şafak's headline read: "This is a dirty trick.
Reveal the truth!"

The attack on the judges marked the beginning of a series of efforts
among political parties to assemble an anti-AKP coalition. Former
Prime Minister Bülent Ecevit, who suffered a cerebral hemorrhage after
attending the funeral, went into a coma that same night. His wife,
Rahşan Ecevit, volunteered to launch a campaign called "Hand in Hand
for the Republic" aiming to "rescue" the republic from unspecified
peril by uniting center-left and right-wing parties. In response,
Demirel declared that "he was ready for the mission," as did other
prominent figures. Some, like Baykal, appreciated Rahşan Ecevit's
efforts but found her proposal infeasible. Still others, remembering
previous slights, refused to meet with her. In the end, after Ecevit
had invited the AKP itself to join the coalition, the effort
collapsed.

Bülent Ecevit died on November 5, 2006, and his wife held the attack
on the judges – and, by extension, the AKP government -- responsible.
The ex-premier's funeral was another opportunity for the anti-AKP bloc
to flex its muscles. The crowd chanted for hours that "Turkey is
secular and will remain so" and "Cankaya [the presidential palace] is
secular and will remain so." Prime Minister Erdoğan replied that the
slogans sounded like "screams at a football match" and did not really
"mean anything" because the AKP already advocates secularism. The
identity of the government's presidential candidate remained a secret.

As the late April deadline for announcing presidential candidates
approached, the simmering tension boiled over at the commanding
heights of the state. It all seemed orchestrated. First, Yaşar
Büyükanıt, the army's chief of general staff, held a rare press
conference "to keep the public informed on a number of
military-related issues," averring that the timing was simply a
"coincidence." After noting that the military was directly concerned
with the presidency, since the president is its commander-in-chief,
Büyükanıt stated that the armed forces hope that the next president
will have the basic values of the Republic, "not in words, but in
essence."[10] Then, the following day, President Sezer issued a stark
warning that the country's secular system "faces its greatest threat
since the founding of the republic in 1923" and proclaimed that all
state organs, including the military, had a duty to protect the
system.[11] Hundreds of thousands of people have demonstrated in major
Turkish cities in support of state secularism and against the AKP
government.

The government finally broke its long silence on its candidate on
April 24, the day before the deadline, and scheduled the parliamentary
vote for the same week. The fact that the candidate was not Erdoğan,
but rather the foreign minister, Abdullah Gül, did not calm the
opposition. The opposition deputies all boycotted the voting, with the
Republican People's Party claiming that the balloting was
unconstitutional. Only hours after the first round, the military
posted a declaration on the official website of the general staff. It
was the harshest statement by the military since the confrontation
with the Welfare Party coalition in 1997: "It is observed that some
circles who have been carrying out endless efforts to disturb
fundamental values of the Republic of Turkey, especially secularism,
have escalated their efforts recently…. An important portion of these
activities was carried out with the permission and the knowledge of
administrative authorities, who were supposed to intervene and prevent
such incidents, a fact which intensifies the gravity of the
matter."[12] The text continued that the military is the "definite
defender of secularism" and "will show its stance clearly when
needed." In an unexpected move, the government issued a
counter-statement reminding the general staff that they are government
employees and that, in democracies, it is not acceptable for the armed
forces to intervene in politics.[13]

Now that the AKP government has failed to secure the court-ordered 367
votes necessary to elect Gül president, it hopes that its most
explicit confrontation with the secular establishment to date will
boost its popularity in the upcoming early elections. The government
believes that the Constitutional Court arbitrarily raised the bar just
to keep the AKP's candidate away from the presidential office, and
hopes to use this unjust criterion as a propaganda tool. While polls
show that the AKP's formerly formidable lead has shrunk, in early
elections, it may still emerge with a majority. Turkey's presidential
battle is far from over. In fact, it may be just beginning.

DEADLOCK

Is Turkey taking an Islamist turn? Since the advent of the AKP
government, this question has consumed observers inside and outside
the country. It is certainly an important question to ask. The AKP's
critics note its less than full commitment to Atatürk's platform, the
most significant plank of which is state secularism. Its supporters,
on the other hand, cast the AKP, whose premise is "modernity with a
Muslim touch," as an alternative to traditional secular politics. They
credit the party with bringing the concerns of the periphery to the
political center, which has long been top-down and exclusionary.

Moving beyond attempts to locate the AKP on the secular-Islamist
continuum, one finds that the AKP is not such a different kettle of
fish. Its record on crucial issues such as economic reform and
democratization is not so readily distinguishable from the secular
governments of the past. According to a recent analysis, the
unemployment rate is as high as 22 percent, more than one fifth of the
population.[14] The AKP does not have an answer for this epidemic of
joblessness, except to defend the neo-liberal policies long pursued
before the party assumed power. Erdoğan's government has
enthusiastically applied the International Monetary Fund's structural
adjustment policies, with a strong emphasis on anti-inflation
measures. In doing so, the government has suppressed the growth of
civil servant salaries, sidelined labor unions and compromised the
provision of basic public services, including health, education and
social security. Far from fulfilling its promise of creating jobs,
privatization, including the selling of coastline and other
environmentally sensitive sites, mainly feeds the rent-seeking
appetites of the emerging conservative bourgeoisie.

The AKP's record on democratization is equally unimpressive. After an
initial reform era in the summer of 2003, momentum has slowed and the
government has come to defend measures that limit freedom of speech,
such as a new anti-terrorism law. Increasingly, and in contrast to its
clean image, the party has caught the old political diseases of
clientelism, corruption and nepotism. There are holes, as well, in its
understanding of pluralism. In 2005, Erdoğan made headlines with a
promise to treat the Kurds in Turkey with "more democracy." To this
day, however, the government resists amending the electoral law to
allow for more diverse representation in Parliament, a change which
would undoubtedly benefit Kurdish political parties. In keeping with
the practice of secular Turkish governments since the 1980s, which
essentially made Sunni Islam the officially approved religion, the
AKP's vision has no room for an Alevi interpretation of Islam. The
minority Alevi communities, who profess a variety of heterodox
versions of Islam, remain fearful of persecution. Women's rights, for
the AKP, seem to be limited to women's right to wear the headscarf. At
the outset of its tenure, the AKP government rejected a number of
policies aiming to empower women as individuals, on the grounds that
they are against "Turkish culture and tradition."

Indeed, in a sense, the major fault lines in Turkish politics are
obscured by the unfolding presidential drama and the looming
parliamentary elections, with their irresistible storyline of
confrontation between the "neo-Islamist" AKP and the secular political
bloc. Dangerous as this clash may be for the country's future, the
political and ideological continuity between the contenders is more
worrisome. The center-right and center-left opposition political
parties, which command a significant number of votes, have been
subdivided among political parties that are, in essence, copies of
each other. These parties' so-called solutions for the country's most
pressing problems, such as economic disparity, lack of political
freedom, gender inequality and the Kurdish question, are likewise
similar. The media, monopolized by a few giant firms, and labor
unions, weak and coopted, are far from being able to exert pressure to
break the political deadlock on any of these problems. And so Turkish
politics is reduced to a simple dichotomy between state secularists
and Islamists -- neither of whom are willing to see the elephants in
the room.

Endnotes

[1] Murat Yetkin, "10 Yılında 28 Şubat," Radikal, February 25, 2007.

[2] Hasan Pulur, "Başörtülüler Değil Başı Açık Olanlar," Milliyet,
November 22, 2002.

[3] Milliyet, November 24, 2002.

[4] Milliyet, November 29, 2002.

[5] Milliyet, October 29, 2006.

[6] Radikal, June 16, 2006.

[7] Radikal, May 15, 2006.

[8] Can Dündar, "Iran'da mı Eğitildi?" Milliyet, May 18, 2006.

[9] Ali Bayramoğlu, "Ankara'da Kanlı Oyun," Yeni Şafak, May 18, 2006.

[10] Milliyet, April 12, 2007.

[11] Milliyet, April 13, 2007.

[12] Milliyet, April 28, 2007.

[13] Milliyet, April 28, 2007.

[14] Sabah, April 27, 2007.

For background on the previous tension between the armed forces and
the government, see Kerem Öktem, "Return of the Turkish 'State of
Exception,'" Middle East Report Online, June 3, 2006.

See also Marcie J. Patton, "Turkey's Tug of War," Middle East Report
239 (Summer 2006). Order the issue or subscribe to Middle East Report
via a secure server here.
--
Yoshie

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