Saturday, September 26, 2026
Analysis by Jacques N. Couvas*
- The month of October has begun with an epidemic of headache that Prime Minister Recep Tayyip Erdogan could definitely have done without.
Just before his departure Oct. 2 for Washington for a critical meeting with U.S. President George W. Bush, he and his Justice and Development (AKP) party were openly attacked by none less than the president of their own country for their Islamist policies, which apparently posit a threat to the very foundation of Turkey: secularism.
The sharp statements by President Ahmet Necdet Sezer during his address to the Turkish Parliament have not surprised those who are familiar with local politics. The steam was cumulating for some time at the presidential quarters, with the fire being fuelled by the nation’s most respected and feared institution, the military.
The first advance warnings of a forthcoming storm were already in the air during the summer, and became evident in late August and early September, when Erdogan’s government pressed for parliamentary approval of his decision to contribute with troops to the new UN peace-keeping force in Lebanon, a consequence of the ceasefire agreement between Israel and Hizbullah.
The decision to intervene in Lebanon has triggered an ongoing polemic among all political factions, the presidency and the Army. The situation has been further exacerbated by the polarised views of most editorialists and commentators.
On the one hand, those in favour of Turkey’s presence in Lebanon see in it an opportunity for their country to play again a strategic role in the Middle East, a region in the politics of which Turkish governments since Turkey’s first president Mustapha Kemal Ataturk have abstained from meddling with. Ataturk, the military commander who led Turkey to its independence also laid the foundations for a modern secular country. He was elected president of the new republic in 1923 and retained this office for 15 years, until his death in 1938.
But the supporters of a presence in Lebanon also argue that a Turkish force siding with EU military units will help improve European public opinion on Turkey, emphasise the country’s strategic role at the outer frontiers of an enlarged Europe, and remove some of the obstacles in the negotiations for accession to the Union.
However, the most obvious rationale for many observers seems to be Erdogan’s wish to mend ties with the Bush administration, still bitter from Turkey’s stance in the occupation of Iraq.
On the other hand – and there is always another hand – the opponents to the Turkish peacekeeping expedition to Lebanon are numerous and vocal. The army is already pretty busy fighting the Kurdish Workers’ Party (PKK) insurgents in the south of the country and beyond its borders with Northern Iraq.
The question is not its manpower or operating capabilities but a psychological one: how will the nation react to casualties incurred in Lebanon, added to those regularly suffered in the anti-PKK campaign?
And the concerns don’t stop there: Should Turkish solders engage in combat against the Hizbullah, an Islamist organisation, for the latter’s disarmament, if ordered by the UN? How long will the engagement be for? What is the government’s strategy and contingency plans for pulling out, should the Lebanese crisis turn into a civil war?
How will the country’s credibility and image be impacted in the Arab world, taking into account that Turkey was the regional colonial power until the end of World War I and the first Muslim country to recognise Israel? How much will this venture distract the government from other, more pressing issues, such as reforms, keeping the economy on track while inflation is rising again, EU accession negotiations, and homeland security?
This debate is understandable and in line with press and political customs in the country. This, however, is the top of the iceberg. The discussion is, indeed, the manifestation of a deeper cause.
As neighbouring Middle East is increasingly becoming a highly inflammable oilfield, and the negotiations with the EU don’t look very promising at this stage, with a Cyprus crisis looming in the year-end horizon, Turks from all political denominations and socio- economic layers are in search of a strategic vision for their country.
A secular state, Turkey is nevertheless of Muslim faith and can’t deny its Islamic historical past and the religious feelings of a large part of the population. At the same time, its democratic regime, ongoing harmonisation with EU legislation and, significantly, its modern, productive, consumer-oriented lifestyle, sustained by the proliferation of media and communications, bring its average citizen closer to the West than any other country in the region.
Turkey, a 70-million nation today and 90-million one by 2020, with an often glorious Ottoman past, is sad that it can’t play a decisive role in the world as a great power it believes it is. The dilemma between grassroots and aspirations has been tormenting its people for eight decades.
Preparation for EU membership gave hope that, at last, Turkey’s ambitions were on their way to fulfilment – the country would be the largest populated and greatest militarised member state in 15 years from now. But pessimism slowly starts to settle, particularly in the big cities, which have achieved so far the greatest degree of assimilation of European standards.
And pessimism leads to insecurity and search for alternatives to compensate for dreams put on hold. But deep inside themselves, most Turks genuinely believe they belong to the West rather than the East. And this leads to the current schism between the AKP and the military.
*This is the first of a set of two articles on Turkey.