Turkey's next coup

Many governments can be criticised for courting dangerous nationalism these days, but few crush their citizens’ spirits like Turkey. The land of dazzling cultural conflicts, soul-stirring ballads and wonderful food has turned into the land of authoritarianism, hate-filled polarisation and burgeoning depression and suicide. The mood could darken further after a fateful referendum on presidential powers in April.

After the horrific coup attempt in July 2016, a brief breeze of optimism blew through Turkey. Citizens across the ideological spectrum stood up against the putschists, and felt united in their devotion to parliamentary democracy. Intellectuals and the mass of the people agreed that Turkey did not want another military takeover, and that the plotters should be brought to justice. The climate of unity did not last long. The ruling AKP party started a massive purge and they never stopped. Soon it became painfully obvious that unbridled government power under the state of emergency was being used to target every form of dissent. Civilians who had nothing to do with any violence were lumped together with plotting army officers. Many innocent citizens were detained, arrested and imprisoned. Nurses, teachers and officials have been sacked. Kemal Klçdaroglu, the head of the main opposition party, estimated that a million people were directly affected by the purge. The crackdown on journalists and scholars was especially severe.

In February, a young academic committed suicide. Mehmet Tras of Çukurova University was a signatory to a major peace petition, signed by over 1,000 academics in January 2016. It denounced the government’s autocratic policies vis-à-vis the Kurdish population, asserting: “We are not going to be a party to this crime.” President Recep Tayyip Erdogan’s response was full of angry accusations. In a televised speech he decried “so-called intellectuals,” suggesting they were apologists for treason.

The word “traitor” is used copiously. Anyone who speaks or writes critically can be accused of stabbing the nation in the back. As his friends have testified, Tras loved teaching. He loved his students. But his contract was abruptly terminated. He looked for other university jobs, but kept getting rejected at the last minute. There seems little doubt he had been blacklisted.

Nearly 5,000 academics have been discharged from universities across Turkey in recent months. Their careers may never get back on track. In prisons and detention centres there are over 100 journalists. That makes Turkey the world’s leading jailer of journalists, surpassing even China.

They languish in jail without knowing what exactly they are accused of. Every writer now knows that a comment, article, or mere tweet could very easily get them into trouble. Words feel heavy. Speech, which was never fully free, is now dangerous. There is intimidation, paranoia, fear and thus self-censorship.

Against this background, on 16th April, Turks will head to the polls. If the “Yes” vote wins, Erdogan—who has been actively campaigning, even though the constitution obliges him to stay neutral—will be endowed with rights that even Atatürk, modern Turkey’s founder, never enjoyed. The AKP claims that the new system will bring stability. They insist that their “reforms” will unite the nation under an uncontested leader. Prime Minister Binali Yldrm went as far as tweeting that under the new presidency, the nation would not waste time on such things as elections.

The AKP came to power in 2002 through parliamentary democracy, but—except for the first few years when they adopted a pro-European Union and pro-reform rhetoric—have shown no gratitude to that system since. Turkey’s establishment continues to confuse crude majoritarianism with real democracy. A pluralistic democracy requires more than free elections. The rule of law, free speech and scholarship are indispensable too. Without these checks and balances, the ballot box is not enough. Turkey is heading towards one-party government under one man.

The “No” campaign cannot find a space to voice its views. Campaigners are attacked verbally, branded “terrorists” by AKP hardliners, and sometimes physically assaulted too. Erdogan announced that voting “No” means “siding with 15th July”—insinuating that his legitimate opponents are closet putschists. Every legal check on the president is held up as fuelling political chaos, and to blame for Turkey’s tanking economy. Tired and fearful after multiple terror attacks, many Turks may be drawn to the AKP’s demagoguery. But many others won’t. The referendum cannot be free or fair when intimidation is in the air. These are dangerous and divisive times in which nobody should be entrusted with such an absolute monopoly of power.