Analysis
Smart, independent reporting on Turkey's politics, economy and foreign affairs.
The Syrian Democratic Forces (SDF) rejected U.S. Ambassador to Ankara and special envoy for Syria Tom Barrack’s demands to withdraw from Raqqa, Deir ez-Zor, Hasakah, and Tabqa and surrender weapons, stating they plan to integrate gradually into the Syrian army rather than disarm.
In Turkish, the term for ambassador has undergone a transformation as sweeping as the empire it once served. The old-fashioned word was “Sefir,” from the Arabic s‑f‑r root meaning “to bear a message,” and the highest rank was Sefir‑i Kebir—the Grand Envoy—complete with embroidered robes and horse-led fanfare. Today, the bureaucratic “Büyükelçi” literally means “great envoy,” yet, put in plain Turkish, it feels a little less illustrious.
A Turkish ambassador serving in a Central Asian country before 2016 was criticized for not showing enough interest in the Gülenists schools. The envoy received several phone calls from AKP officials complaining he was not, for instance, visiting the schools frequently enough.
“Those trying to undermine ties between Türkiye and the Turkic world through manipulation will not succeed,” Turkish Foreign Minister Hakan Fidan said finally, weeks, even months, after four Central Asian Republics accredited ambassadors to Greek Cyprus. While Ankara continues to argue for two separate states to solve the Cyprus issue, it remains unmoved by recent diplomatic setbacks.
When Hakan Fidan addressed the 14th conference of the ambassadors in August 2023, two months after he was appointed as foreign minister, the message was clear to those present in the hall. Having led the Turkish Intelligence Agency for 13 years, it became clear from Fidan’s address that foreign policy would be shaped and implemented from a security perspective. While this might not present an abnormality as the world is becoming highly insecure, Fidan took office at a time when Turkey was seeking to normalize its relations with many of its neighbors.
“When good bureaucrats retire, they go to Istanbul,” quipped a Turkish diplomat at his farewell dinner several years ago. He was about to join the steady flow of ex-ambassadors and senior officials who settle comfortably into Istanbul’s glamorous private sector. While these bureaucrats enjoy Istanbul’s cosmopolitan delights and lucrative board positions, politicians with unsatisfied ambitions would do well to think twice. The graceful transition from bureaucracy-laden Ankara to Istanbul’s cultural and economic limelight might be liberating—but for politicians, it often signals the end of the line. Take Abdullah Gül, who leads the parade of high-profile politicians who found themselves in Istanbul once their grip on Ankara slipped. Gül, the soft-spoken Number Two to Erdoğan at the founding of AKP, left the presidency in 2014 with considerable bitterness, feeling sidelined by Erdoğan and his team. Settling first in Tarabya’s Presidential Palace and then in a private villa in Beykoz, he became a figure whom former allies and even foes sought out for advice on new parties, and periodically as a possible challenger to Erdoğan. Yet, Gül never took the plunge, proving that the view from Istanbul is often one of wistful distance from real political clout.