Analysis
Smart, independent reporting on Turkey's politics, economy and foreign affairs.
Turkey marked the 102nd anniversary of the Republic with fresh signs of political realignment — reminiscent of the symbolic gestures seen during Parliament’s opening earlier this month. While the chairs of Gelecek Party and DEVA Party, both breakaway movements from the AKP, attended the Presidential Palace reception for the first time, the MHP opted to stay away. Talks on a possible merger among conservative parties are also ongoing.
A political feud has erupted between Turkey’s two largest ultranationalist parties—the MHP and its breakaway rival the İYİ Party—over the establishment of a parliamentary commission tasked with preparing for the potential disarmament of the PKK.
The dissolution and disarmament of the PKK, so far managed through security institutions, will be brought to Parliament’s agenda next week through a newly established commission. Although framed as “above politics” and “beyond party interests,” the “process” is creating new political maneuvering room for all parties. From the government to the opposition, political actors are repositioning themselves and recalculating strategies with an eye on the 2028 elections.
As of July 31, all parties represented in Turkish Parliament—except the İYİ Party—have appointed members to join the parliamentary commission on the Kurdish issue, ending debates over which parties would take seats. Attention now turns to the commission’s roadmap, including its official name, agenda, timeline, and decision-making rules. The İYİ Party’s decision to abstain from participation has complicated the calculation of an absolute majority. While Parliament Speaker Numan Kurtulmuş initially announced that the commission would have 51 members, the İYİ Party’s absence reduces the number to 48, raising debate over whether the three-fifths majority should be calculated based on 51 or 48 members.
The arithmetic in the Turkish Parliament is shifting rapidly, as party defections mount. Since the May 2023 elections, 35 lawmakers have resigned from their parties, significantly altering the composition of parliament. The İYİ Party has shrunk from 43 to 29 MPs; DEVA has dropped from 15 to 9; and Gelecek from 10 to 4. Of the defectors, 11 joined the AKP and 10 moved to the CHP. Fourteen now sit as independents.
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.
The PKK’s disarmament is set to begin, two months after the group announced its dissolution on May 12—marking the symbolic end of nearly half a century of armed conflict. Attention is now turning to Turkey’s Parliament, which political parties across the spectrum have identified as the proper venue to address the Kurdish issue.
The Defense Ministry announced that 12 soldiers died on July 6 from methane gas during a search of a cave previously used as a hospital by the PKK in northern Iraq. Opposition parties called for a parliamentary commission to investigate whether the necessary precautions, including the use of gas masks and detectors, were taken when the soldiers entered the cave, but this proposal was rejected by AKP and MHP votes.
“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.