Analysis
Smart, independent reporting on Turkey's politics, economy and foreign affairs.
Don’t underestimate Beyoğlu. If a survey were conducted asking Turks to name the two districts they know best, the top answers would likely be Istanbul’s Beyoğlu and Ankara’s Çankaya. Çankaya is well known because it houses Atatürk’s legacy, the Republic, parliament, state institutions, and embassies.
Özlem Çerçioğlu has been elected mayor of Aydın from the CHP for four consecutive terms. She also previously served two terms as a CHP lawmaker. Before delving into the political dimension, it’s worth examining the nickname she’s been given—“Topuklu Efe” (Efe in High Heels).
“Turkish newspapers should do more than the Washington Post,” wrote Fatih Selek in pro-government daily Türkiye, recalling that the American newspaper published the names of nearly 20,000 children murdered in Gaza.
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.
In the most dramatic leadership overhaul at the armed forces pension fund since the 2016 coup attempt, retired Lt. Gen. Zekai Aksakallı—a key figure in thwarting the coup—has been named chairman of the giant fund.
In the most dramatic leadership overhaul at OYAK since the 2016 coup attempt, retired Lt. Gen. Zekai Aksakallı—once a key figure in thwarting the coup—has been named chairman of the Turkish Armed Forces' influential pension fund and commercial powerhouse. OYAK announced the surprise changes just two months after its general assembly on May 17.
The word of the week is Grok — not a Turkish word by birth, but one that, thanks to recent events, has become a household name from Izmir to Iğdır.
In Turkey, a köprü (bridge) is never just a bridge. This week, the Bosphorus Bridge—officially renamed the “15 July Martyrs Bridge” after the 2016 coup attempt—became a stage for protest. A group of CHP deputies climbed onto the structure and unfurled a massive banner reading: “Free İmamoğlu” right before the CHP leader and his guests from the Socialist International would cross it. The message was direct: release Istanbul’s elected mayor, jailed on charges widely condemned as political. Only a few hours before that, the members of the Socialist International had raised a similar banner in their meeting.
The word of the week is—surprise, surprise—“boycott.” This word has its roots in Ireland but was readily adopted by the Ottoman Empire as “boykotaj” in the early 20th century. It all began with a stubborn man and a group of angry farmers. Charles Boycott, the eponymous land agent in 19th-century Ireland, refused to lower rents. In return, local tenants refused to acknowledge his existence—no violence, no slogans—just pure, icy silence. Labourers wouldn’t work his land, shopkeepers wouldn’t serve him, even the postman changed routes in what was the forefather of today’s cancel culture. Boycott became so isolated that his name turned into a verb.
Following Ekrem İmamoğlu’s arrest and removal from office, Nuri Aslan was elected as acting mayor of Istanbul Metropolitan Municipality. The election took place in the municipal council, but it was clearly İmamoğlu who selected Aslan. Now, everyone is trying to decode why İmamoğlu opted for such an unfamiliar name. One of the key reasons for picking Aslan is the “quiet strength” he embodies. He’s been walking the path with İmamoğlu in Istanbul for years—but always behind the scenes, never seeking the spotlight.
In the rich tapestry of Turkish names, few are as paradoxical as 'Satılmış.' Literally translating to 'sold' or 'sell-out,' this name carries a weighty connotation that intertwines cultural beliefs, societal perceptions and individual destinies. In Anatolian traditions, giving newborns names like 'Satılmış' or the female version “Satı” is a protective measure. The name was traditionally bestowed upon children with the underlying belief that by symbolically 'selling' the child, parents could deceive malevolent spirits or fate, thereby safeguarding the child from harm or premature death. This practice reflects an interplay between language, belief systems, and cultural practices in Anatolian societies.
Halep (Aleppo, proper name) touches Turkish hearts, minds, imagination, language and, of course, the political rhetoric in a way few cities of the Ottoman Empire do. The southern jewel of the empire, the city has been a touchstone of trade, culture, and storytelling. But, as far as your cheeky columnist is concerned, its true linguistic value lies in being the punchline in one of Turkey’s wittiest sayings: “Halep oradaysa arşın burada”—“If Aleppo is there, the yardstick is here.” This phrase is more than a geographic observation; it’s a challenge. Based on the oral tale of a man who claimed that back in his great days in Aleppo, he could leap just as high as one could imagine, it’s what you say to someone boasting about their impressive feats in far-off places. “Sure, we can no longer ask around in Aleppo,” it implies, “but let’s see how you measure up here, in the present, with evidence.” In other words, put up or shut up and do not expect us to be persuaded by tall tales.