The site of one of the bomb blasts in Ankara (Turkey's capital) being cordoned off. Words cannot describe how horrifying it must have been. Photo from The Guardian, UK.
I am writing this blog in the immediate aftermath of the Ankara bombings where nearly 100 people lost their lives to a pair of suicide bombers on 10th October. They were attending a rally, organised by civil society groups, held to call for peace amidst escalating tensions between the Government and the nation’s Kurdish population. In what is described as the worst terror attack in the nation’s modern history, two bombs, spiked with ball bearings ripped through the crowds, leaving behind a nation torn between grief and disbelief.
The timing of this tragedy could not be worse as it comes at a critical period where the nation is grappling with already explosive ethnic fissures. It follows the abrupt end (in July) of a two-year ceasefire between the Government and PKK, a separatist group fighting for Kurdish independence. In recent months, the Government has initiated a series of heavy-handed crackdowns in Kurdish populated areas in the Southeast of the country, alongside aerial bombardments of PKK positions across the border in northern Iraq. The Government’s actions in Kurdish-majority areas has drawn widespread condemnation amongst the Kurdish community, worsening the feeling of estrangement which they have harboured since the formation of modern Turkey 80 years ago.
Investigations into the Ankara bombings are not yet conclusive, but they point towards the involvement of ISIS, a terrorist organisation which PKK is also fighting against. It was the ISIS-led bombings in the Kurdish-populated Turkish town of Suruc in July which sparked the renewed conflict between the Government and PKK – the latter accused the former of not doing enough to combat ISIS and killed two policemen in retaliation for the (mostly) Kurdish lives lost in Suruc.
Instead of bringing the nation closer together in mourning, the bombings have resulted in even further polarisation within the country. Many of the rally’s supporters blame the Government for failing to protect its own citizens at a peaceful gathering. The Government is defending its security policies, and is accusing its detractors of destabilising the country. Both sides claim that the other is trying to spark a civil war.
All this is happening two weeks before the 1st November snap election, called after the general election in June resulted in a hung parliament, with the 13-year-incumbent ruling party, AKP unable to form a coalition with majority support. Most polls predict that the outcome of the November elections will not be significantly different to the June result, so it does not appear that the present political gridlock will resolve itself anytime soon. This has major implications for Turkey’s international standing, and the (increasingly unlikely) amicable resolution of its long-standing domestic issues.
I wrote earlier about Turkey’s “problem” with its 15-20 million population of Kurds, which form a sizable community in the country. But to fully understand why the Kurds continue to feel alienated in their own country, we need to look more closely at the history of modern Turkey.
After the fall of the Ottoman Empire post-WW1 (having sided with Germany), the Allied powers went about dissecting its former territories, claiming the choicest chunks for themselves. In the secretly negotiated 1918 Sykes-Picot Agreement, Britain would get Palestine, Jordan and Iraq; the French would gain Syria and Lebanon and Russia would receive parts of Eastern Anatolia and crucially, Istanbul. Although Russia would later walk away from treaty, a direct consequence of the Bolshevik revolution, the British-French led 1920 Treaty of Sevres was no kinder to the Turks who were left with the scraps that fell off the negotiating table.
Enter war hero Mustafa Kemal, who organised the Turkish resistance, fought a four year War of Independence and ultimately succeeded in strong-arming the occupying nations into signing the 1923 Treaty of Lausanne, which cemented the borders of modern-day Turkey. He went on, as President, to introduce a series of drastic reforms which revolved around the secularisation and modernisation of the new republic’s society and economy. Of paramount importance was the creation of a Turkish national identity which would galvanise its people and erase the humiliations brought about by the failures of their Ottoman antecedents. Mustafa Kemal was bestowed the title of “Attaturk” (Father Turk) for his nation-building efforts, and remains a greatly revered figure amongst Turks today.
Unfortunately for the Kurds, there was no room for the recognition of ethnic diversity in Mustafa Kemal’s grand plan. Kurdish culture, their language and even their traditional attire and music were gradually outlawed in the decades that followed. Understandably, the Kurds felt profoundly aggrieved, particularly as they had fought and died alongside the Turks in the War of Independence. They believed, and were motivated by, the promise of a place in the sun for Kurdish ideals on Turkish soil. To have this dream taken away and, in their eyes, to be treated like lesser beings for 80 years post-independence is not only unjust but undemocratic in light of the sacrifices they have made.
To be fair to the Government, efforts were made in the last 20 years to allow increased expression of Kurdish identity, and reconciliatory language heavily infused with the word “brothers” has been employed to claw back Kurdish support. It will undoubtedly take a lot more effort, and even more time. Most Kurds still remember the time when their parents had to bury Kurdish books and music tapes in the garden to avoid confiscation by the police in frequently conducted door-to-door raids. They remember that most of the Southeast was under martial law up to the late 90’s. The heavy military presence in some Kurdish towns today, and the viral spread of Youtube videos such as the one depicting the lifeless body of a Kurdish protester being dragged through the streets by a length of rope attached to the back of a military vehicle, after being shot 28 times, remind the Kurds of those darker days.
What worries me is the sheer number of Kurds in Turkey. If we take the upper end of the 15-20 million estimate of their numbers in Turkey, they comprise a quarter of the nation’s population. Some say that they may even outnumber the “real” Turks – those who can trace their roots to Turkic i.e. Central Asian ancestors; the rest of the population is a made up of a mix of immigrants from other parts of Europe. My fear is that if enough old wounds are re-opened, and 20 million Kurds decide to take to the streets, the country could very well collapse on itself.
The Government’s handling of the Ankara bombings, and their stance towards a grieving Kurdish community which feels increasingly bereft of options, will be major event-triggers in the short term. The outcome of the snap election in two weeks, and the AKP’s willingness to compromise should things not go their way, will have longer term consequences. What is clear is that the future of the country hangs in the balance. And it is poised very delicately at the moment.
The timing of this tragedy could not be worse as it comes at a critical period where the nation is grappling with already explosive ethnic fissures. It follows the abrupt end (in July) of a two-year ceasefire between the Government and PKK, a separatist group fighting for Kurdish independence. In recent months, the Government has initiated a series of heavy-handed crackdowns in Kurdish populated areas in the Southeast of the country, alongside aerial bombardments of PKK positions across the border in northern Iraq. The Government’s actions in Kurdish-majority areas has drawn widespread condemnation amongst the Kurdish community, worsening the feeling of estrangement which they have harboured since the formation of modern Turkey 80 years ago.
Investigations into the Ankara bombings are not yet conclusive, but they point towards the involvement of ISIS, a terrorist organisation which PKK is also fighting against. It was the ISIS-led bombings in the Kurdish-populated Turkish town of Suruc in July which sparked the renewed conflict between the Government and PKK – the latter accused the former of not doing enough to combat ISIS and killed two policemen in retaliation for the (mostly) Kurdish lives lost in Suruc.
Instead of bringing the nation closer together in mourning, the bombings have resulted in even further polarisation within the country. Many of the rally’s supporters blame the Government for failing to protect its own citizens at a peaceful gathering. The Government is defending its security policies, and is accusing its detractors of destabilising the country. Both sides claim that the other is trying to spark a civil war.
All this is happening two weeks before the 1st November snap election, called after the general election in June resulted in a hung parliament, with the 13-year-incumbent ruling party, AKP unable to form a coalition with majority support. Most polls predict that the outcome of the November elections will not be significantly different to the June result, so it does not appear that the present political gridlock will resolve itself anytime soon. This has major implications for Turkey’s international standing, and the (increasingly unlikely) amicable resolution of its long-standing domestic issues.
I wrote earlier about Turkey’s “problem” with its 15-20 million population of Kurds, which form a sizable community in the country. But to fully understand why the Kurds continue to feel alienated in their own country, we need to look more closely at the history of modern Turkey.
After the fall of the Ottoman Empire post-WW1 (having sided with Germany), the Allied powers went about dissecting its former territories, claiming the choicest chunks for themselves. In the secretly negotiated 1918 Sykes-Picot Agreement, Britain would get Palestine, Jordan and Iraq; the French would gain Syria and Lebanon and Russia would receive parts of Eastern Anatolia and crucially, Istanbul. Although Russia would later walk away from treaty, a direct consequence of the Bolshevik revolution, the British-French led 1920 Treaty of Sevres was no kinder to the Turks who were left with the scraps that fell off the negotiating table.
Enter war hero Mustafa Kemal, who organised the Turkish resistance, fought a four year War of Independence and ultimately succeeded in strong-arming the occupying nations into signing the 1923 Treaty of Lausanne, which cemented the borders of modern-day Turkey. He went on, as President, to introduce a series of drastic reforms which revolved around the secularisation and modernisation of the new republic’s society and economy. Of paramount importance was the creation of a Turkish national identity which would galvanise its people and erase the humiliations brought about by the failures of their Ottoman antecedents. Mustafa Kemal was bestowed the title of “Attaturk” (Father Turk) for his nation-building efforts, and remains a greatly revered figure amongst Turks today.
Unfortunately for the Kurds, there was no room for the recognition of ethnic diversity in Mustafa Kemal’s grand plan. Kurdish culture, their language and even their traditional attire and music were gradually outlawed in the decades that followed. Understandably, the Kurds felt profoundly aggrieved, particularly as they had fought and died alongside the Turks in the War of Independence. They believed, and were motivated by, the promise of a place in the sun for Kurdish ideals on Turkish soil. To have this dream taken away and, in their eyes, to be treated like lesser beings for 80 years post-independence is not only unjust but undemocratic in light of the sacrifices they have made.
To be fair to the Government, efforts were made in the last 20 years to allow increased expression of Kurdish identity, and reconciliatory language heavily infused with the word “brothers” has been employed to claw back Kurdish support. It will undoubtedly take a lot more effort, and even more time. Most Kurds still remember the time when their parents had to bury Kurdish books and music tapes in the garden to avoid confiscation by the police in frequently conducted door-to-door raids. They remember that most of the Southeast was under martial law up to the late 90’s. The heavy military presence in some Kurdish towns today, and the viral spread of Youtube videos such as the one depicting the lifeless body of a Kurdish protester being dragged through the streets by a length of rope attached to the back of a military vehicle, after being shot 28 times, remind the Kurds of those darker days.
What worries me is the sheer number of Kurds in Turkey. If we take the upper end of the 15-20 million estimate of their numbers in Turkey, they comprise a quarter of the nation’s population. Some say that they may even outnumber the “real” Turks – those who can trace their roots to Turkic i.e. Central Asian ancestors; the rest of the population is a made up of a mix of immigrants from other parts of Europe. My fear is that if enough old wounds are re-opened, and 20 million Kurds decide to take to the streets, the country could very well collapse on itself.
The Government’s handling of the Ankara bombings, and their stance towards a grieving Kurdish community which feels increasingly bereft of options, will be major event-triggers in the short term. The outcome of the snap election in two weeks, and the AKP’s willingness to compromise should things not go their way, will have longer term consequences. What is clear is that the future of the country hangs in the balance. And it is poised very delicately at the moment.
