By Nazlan Ertan
Kayyum or Kayyım (trustee, noun) often crops up on the Turkish agenda like an unwelcome ex-chief at a political celebration. The English-language media has translated it as trustee, as in “Turkey sacked three mayors in the Kurdish-majority southeast on alleged 'terrorism' charges and replaced them with trustees.”
But as with most things, context is key. The word is actually an exalted name in Islamic theology, describing an attribute of God: the eternal, self-sustaining one, who maintains all existence. The term implies omniscience and omnipotence—qualities far removed from the bureaucratic function of trustee appointments. In more everyday language, it’s also a term for a mosque custodian. But lately, Turkey’s government has repurposed the term, applying it to officials appointed to oversee (or seize) the operations of private companies, foundations, and -mostly- municipalities suspected of wrongdoing. It should not be confused with a guardian (vasi), whose role implies that the person they care for is legally incapable of managing their own affairs. Tanıl Bora, master of Turkish political terms, explains: “A guardian is appointed to a person, a kayyum to property.”
Yet in recent years, “kayyum” appointments have taken on a different, almost mythical quality in Turkey. In the immediate aftermath of the failed 2016 coup, the government placed nearly 30 municipalities and various businesses under trustee control, ushering in the “super-kayyum” era. Today, the number has reached 160 for municipalities alone. This simple civil law provision evolved into a tool for governance, security, and, arguably, a quiet reshaping of political power. DEM/HDP mayors top the list of those who have been forced to cede their positions to kayyums, while the CHP follows with the recent kayyum appointment in Esentepe, Turkey’s largest provincial municipality. The word kayyum must be a bugbear for Istanbul Mayor Ekrem İmamoğlu, the opposition’s presidential candidate-in-waiting, who has appealed his Kafkaesque conviction for 'insulting public officers.' Should he lose his legal battle, a kayyum might take charge of CHP’s biggest electoral prize.
Legal experts point out that Turkey’s kayyum model stretches far beyond legal confines. One columnist wryly compared kayyums to authoritarian stand-ins abroad. 'The U.S. attempted to appoint a kayyum to Turkey!' one journalist quipped after the unsuccessful coup orchestrated by US-based cleric Fethullah Gülen, now deceased. He cited Pinochet in Chile or Sisi in Egypt as America’s attempts at installing national trustees. In the same vein, a cheeky X user put up a photo of Özgür Özel and claimed that AKP had appointed a trustee to the CHP.
And so, like it or not, Turkey’s kayyum is here to stay—an ancient legal term with divine roots, a bureaucratic functionary turned political proxy, and perhaps the world’s most ambitious take on the humble trustee.
