Analysis
Smart, independent reporting on Turkey's politics, economy and foreign affairs.
As the Peace Commission moves toward drafting its final document — and as legislation looms on the horizon — the key question is whether parliament can transform overlapping objectives into a shared roadmap, or whether the process will once again stall at the fault line between security-first sequencing and demands for democratic and political normalization.
CHP Chair Özgür Özel escalated his rhetoric, urging people to take to the streets in response to what he described as a diminishing role for Parliament. Addressing crowds at public rallies and budget debates in Parliament, Özel emphasized the historic weight of legislative authority. “The right to control the budget is humanity’s greatest democratic achievement. Parliament is not born of the budget — the budget is born of Parliament,” he said.
As the Turkish Parliament begins its new legislative year on Oct. 1, attention will center on MHP Chair Devlet Bahçeli—who launched the “Terror-Free Turkey” peace initiative a year ago—and on President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan’s remarks regarding its future. Following a 70-day recess, Parliament will convene with a special General Assembly session at 2:00 p.m. As usual, Erdoğan will deliver an opening address, though the CHP will boycott the ceremony in protest of recent mayoral arrests and crackdowns on municipalities. This year, the political spotlight will remain on post-PKK arrangements such as the “Return Home” law, the “right to hope,” and amendments to the penal code.
Parliament passed a legislative package on July 19 that enables mining in olive groves, triggering protests from opposition parties, locals, and environmental groups. The bill, which the AKP says is to address Turkey’s energy needs, passed with 255 votes in favor and 199 against.
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The word of the week is “ihtiyatlı iyimserlik,” literally, “cautious optimism.” A staple of diplomatic jargon, the phrase allows diplomats, speechwriters, and strategists to sound hopeful without making any actual commitment. Last week alone, the term was trotted out as a reaction to the latest Damascus-SDF agreement, the ever-elusive prospect of a Ukraine-Russia ceasefire, and Syrian interim President Ahmad al-Sharaa’s pledge to establish an independent commission to bring those responsible for civilian killings in Latakia and Tartus to justice. And, yes, we are also cautiously optimistic about PKK leader Abdullah Öcalan’s calls to dissolve PKK and lay down arms, too.
İmam nikahı, or dini nikah (religious wedding), has long been a battleground for women’s rights activists who strongly oppose religious marriage and support strict penalties for imams and muftis (Muslim clergy) who conduct religious unions without first ensuring that the couple has undergone a civil ceremony. Turkey’s laws on marriage are regulated by the 1926 Civil Code, which abolished polygamy, introduced civil marriage, and mandated that any religious ceremony—should citizens of the newly established secular state choose to hold one—must follow civil registration in a municipal office. In villages, chieftains (elected officials) conduct the ceremony, while consular officers perform civil ceremonies for Turks abroad. Under the 1926 laws, religious officers—whether imams, priests, or rabbis in Turkey’s multi-faith society— had no authority to perform official weddings, as they cannot verify the legal requirements, such as the age of the would-be spouses or whether they are already married.
Lokma (noun): Literally translated as “morsel,” lokma is a fried sweet dough covered in syrup. Part of Turkey’s colossal street food culture, its shape, size, and sweetness change according to the region. Izmirians maintain that it has to have a hole in the middle, whereas Istanbuliots say it should be in the shape and size of a dove’s egg. People of Gaziantep, whose Unesco-registered cuisine is on festival mode until Sept. 22, call it pisik daşşaa (“cat’s balls” in the local accent) and sprinkle it with crushed pistachios. Greeks have loukoumades, which they serve with honey and heated arguments on its Greek origins. In Turkey, when a loved one dies, people distribute lokma in their sweet memory, when a small lokma-van pulls on the street in front of the family home and distributes little cartoon cups of half a dozen lokmas to neighbors and passers-by.