Analysis
Smart, independent reporting on Turkey's politics, economy and foreign affairs.
After the Middle East, Russia is losing its standing in the Caucasus, reads the headline of the article penned by a prominent Turkish journalist who is an expert on Russian issues. The article is referring to press reports that Armenia and Azerbaijan are close to an agreement on the Zangezur corridor which will also facilitate the signing of a permanent peace agreement between the two neighbors.
Turkey has risen to become one of the world’s top tourism destinations, welcoming over 56 million international visitors in 2023. Its appeal lies in a rare combination of sun-soaked beaches, rich cultural heritage, world-class cuisine, and warm hospitality—all easily accessible from Europe, Asia, the Middle East, and Africa. But as prices surge and market dynamics shift, industry insiders warn the sector may be heading toward a critical inflection point.
In the 1970s, Turkey was plagued by deadly street clashes that claimed at least 10 lives a day. One of the bloodiest moments came in 1977, when the May Day rally in Istanbul’s Taksim Square turned into a massacre after shots were fired into the crowd, killing over 30 people. The ongoing ban on May Day rallies in Taksim dates back to that tragedy. As the violence escalated, conventional media outlets repeatedly asked, “Where is Turkey heading?” The era came to a close with the military coup of September 12, 1980.
Turkey’s overzealous Foreign Minister Ahmet Davutoğlu, who became prime minister in 2014 only to be sacked by Erdoğan a short while later, once bragged that not even a leaf could move in the Middle East without asking Turkey. It was a time when Ankara was extremely confident about its influence in the region, especially in Syria. However, the Assad regime proved to be much more resilient than thought, thanks to Russia’s support. During this period, Turkey’s influence in Syrian affairs was doubted and even ridiculed by critics of the Ankara government. Recep Tayyip Erdoğan actually tried in vain several times to start direct talks with Bashar Assad through Russian channels.
The phrase of the moment in Turkey is “abesle iştigal,” the very expression that the country’s word-savvy Foreign Minister Hakan Fidan used to dismiss U.S. President Donald Trump’s plan to "take over Gaza" and transform it into the “Riviera of the Middle East.” In the colorful mosaic of Turkish, “abesle iştigal” conveys the sheer futility of engaging in pointless endeavors. The expression is even featured in Lûgat365, a project dedicated to preserving beautiful but near-forgotten words in Turkish.
The ruling AKP presents the fall of the Assad regime as a success story as well as vindication of its 13-year Syria policy which for many has meant turning the country into a vast migrant camp.
In Turkey, the word “yangın” (fire) has been a literal and metaphorical agent of change, leaving lasting marks on cities, culture, and society. Fires frequently serve as dramatic turning points in Turkish popular culture, from the 1960 film “Fire,” an Ottoman-era period piece in which the daughter of a pasha falls for a tulumbacı (Ottoman firefighter), to the modern TV series “Cranberry Sorbet,” which united estranged lovers after a tragic blaze. Adopting the usual satirical tone for the Word of the Week is impossible as the nation mourns after the Grand Kartal Hotel fire at the Kartalkaya ski resort in Bolu. The blaze, which began in the restaurant section and quickly engulfed the 12-story building, claimed at least 78 lives, including children on winter break, and injured 51 others.
The term “arabesk” (arabesque) originates from the Italian “arabesco,” (“in the Arabic style,”) initially describing ornate patterns featuring interlacing foliage and geometric designs. In Turkey, however, “arabesk” evolved beyond its artistic origins to signify a deeply emotive genre of music that emerged in the 1960s, blending Middle Eastern melodies with themes of longing, despair, and resilience.
The turn of events in Syria is related to three evolving issues: the war in Ukraine, the war in the Middle East, and the upcoming Trump 2.0. Bashar al-Assad survived the civil war thanks to his powerful allies, Russia, Iran, and Lebanese Hezbollah, which have all been weakened.
The Syrian opposition's major advances in the last ten days, especially the capture of Aleppo, the second biggest city in Syria, caught not only the international community off guard but also surprised Syrians themselves. The opposition launched Operation “Deterrence of Aggression” on Nov. 27 to end the regime’s attacks on its strongholds in northwest Syria and facilitate the return of at least one million internally displaced persons (IDPs) to their towns in Aleppo, Idlib, and Hama. These towns had been captured by the regime in 2020 in violation of the Astana Process agreed upon by Turkey, Russia, and Iran. The operation successfully achieved its planned objectives within the first four days. However, everything that has occurred since then has been unplanned and unexpected.
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.”
For the past week, many Turks have been uneasily following the unfolding of the murder of an eight-year-old girl at a southeastern village and its tangle of feudal ties, political influence and an unholy conspiracy of silence that may well belong to an Almodovar film.