
Turkey's rugged Kurdish region in the country's southeast has exploded in violence once again, posing a new challenge for Turkish Prime Minister Recep Tayyip Erdogan. More than 80 soldiers have been killed this year in attacks orchestrated by the Kurdistan Workers' Party (PKK), a Kurdish separatist group, already exceeding the total for all of 2009. Turkey responded last week by bombing PKK strongholds in northern Iraq.
This renewal of violence should serve as a reminder to Erdogan that peace begins at home -- not in Gaza or Iran. The prime minister won regional prestige for undercutting U.S. diplomacy by striking a nuclear fuel swap deal with Iran in May and for lambasting Israel in June over its botched raid on a Gaza-bound flotilla, which resulted in the deaths of nine Turks. Translating this newly aggressive foreign policy into domestic support, however, has proved trickier.
Although lashing out at Israel won him accolades from Islamist and Turkish nationalist voters, it did not help his deteriorating relations with Turkey's ethnic Kurds, who make up nearly 20 percent of the country's population. For them, the real issue is how long it will take Erdogan to make good on his promise of reforms to end their status as second-class citizens. So far, he has disappointed.
Erdogan only has himself to blame. He raised expectations last year by announcing a "Democratic Initiative," meant to turn Turkey into a true Western democracy and end the country's stubborn Kurdish insurgency. But political missteps have complicated the process. Erdogan granted an unofficial amnesty last year to 34 PKK members and supporters in Iraq, allowing them to return to Turkey. His bid at rapprochement backfired, however, when the returnees were greeted as heroes by thousands of jubilant Kurds, many chanting pro-PKK slogans, waiting on the Turkish side of the border. It was an unwanted reminder to Erdogan, and Turks in general, that the PKK is a popular force to be reckoned with.
Since then, Erdogan has hesitated to move ahead with his stated plan to reform his country's relationship with its Kurdish minority. Draft legislation submitted by his party in March to revise Turkey's Constitution, which aims to curtail the military's significant political influence, did not include any changes to the articles limiting Kurdish freedoms and identity. The Kurdish Peace and Democracy Party, the primary legal Kurdish party that holds 20 seats in parliament, boycotted the vote, sparking accusations from Turkish nationalists that Kurds were trying to torpedo the democratic process.
The political and military situation has only deteriorated since. On June 22, Kurdish rebels took their fight to western Turkey, detonating a roadside bomb alongside a military bus in Istanbul. Four soldiers and a teenage girl were killed. Erdogan's rhetoric in response to the renewed violence has been forceful: He insisted that he will not be deterred from pursuing his peace agenda even as he promised that the rebels will "drown in their own blood." But he also seems to think he can make peace on his own, without talking to the Kurds.
But solving Turkey's persistent Kurdish problem will take more than simply opening a 24-hour Kurdish language station -- Erdogan's one concrete achievement to date. To encourage Ankara to negotiate, the PKK announced a cease-fire on April 13, 2009. Erdogan did not respond -- but the security forces did. A day after the PKK's announcement, police rounded up 53 executives and members of the legal pro-Kurdish Democratic Society Party on suspicion of aiding the rebel group. To Kurds, the timing looked suspicious. The PKK had said it wanted to give Kurds and Turks a chance to solve the conflict peacefully, but in response the state arrested leading Kurdish politicians. Kurds also assumed the arrests were the prime minister's way of getting back at the Kurdish party, which had thoroughly trounced Erdogan's Islamist-oriented AKP in March 29 local elections.
Legal assaults against Kurds' elected representatives only continued. In December 2009, the party was shut down by the Constitutional Court for its alleged links to the PKK. It reopened under a new name, but 37 senior officials were barred from politics for five years, including two parliamentarians, who also lost their seats. Last month, on June 18, prosecutors in the city of Diyarbakir charged 151 Kurdish politicians and activists -- including 8 elected mayors (most of whom are in jail pending trial) from the southeast -- with aiding the PKK. Given the growing tensions, it should have come as no surprise that on June 1, the PKK ended its one-sided ceasefire, sparking the current outbreak of violence.
In the Kurdish region, the narrowing of the democratic field has revitalized support for the guerrilla war. The few Kurdish voices calling for the PKK to disarm are now marginal. Unsurprisingly, the PKK has no shortage of new recruits.
"I am afraid my son will join the PKK because he sees what is happening to me, and says that there's no point trying to do anything through legal channels," Abdullah Demirbas, the Kurdish mayor of the Sur district of Diyarbakir, told me in June 2009. Demirbas had been suspended from his post in June 2007 by the Interior Ministry for printing informational pamphlets in Kurdish. In the March 2009 local elections, he regained his seat. But his reelection was not enough to prevent fears from becoming reality: A few weeks after Demirbas and I met, his 17-year-old son did join the rebels. The elder Demirbas was arrested at the end of 2009 in a security service roundup of Kurdish politicians.
COMMENTS (30)
SUBJECTS:
















(30)
HIDE COMMENTS LOGIN OR REGISTER REPORT ABUSE