Analysis
Smart, independent reporting on Turkey's politics, economy and foreign affairs.
In Turkish, çocuk simply means “child” — a small, willful person who believes the world should bend to their will. But in political life, çocuk is more than a noun: it is a litmus test. Unlike evlat, the solemn, Arabic-rooted term for “offspring,” çocuk suggests an individual, complete in themselves, not just a branch on a family tree. No surprise, then, that the AKP prefers evlat — a word that keeps people firmly tethered to family, lineage, and duty.
When Syria’s new foreign minister chose to go to Saudi Arabia and Qatar for his first international visits before coming to Turkey, the main opposition party criticized the government, asking why Asaad al-Shaibani did not choose to reciprocate the visits of the Turkish foreign minister who went to Damascus two weeks after the fall of the Assad regime. For experts, this was only natural since Syria is first and foremost an Arab country and prioritizing relations with Turkey would have caused irritation among Arab capitals. In addition, while Turkey is struggling with its own economic hardships, Syria’s new rulers need Gulf money to get the country on its feet.
Turkey cannot “design” Syria when others pay the money. The Turkish government lacks the financial resources to put Syria back on its feet. And time is of the essence because, if the new administration is slow in delivering stability, the already big challenges will become even bigger. “We don’t have the money, but we have the capacity,” said a Turkish diplomat. “We need to work for the right model in Syria and use our state capacity to provide our institutional support,” added the diplomat.
Aile (family, noun of Arabic root “awila,” meaning “to support or lean upon,”) may evoke images of warmth, reliance, and shared responsibilities. Historically, the concept of family in Turkey was as expansive as the stone konaks that housed them. The family in the Ottoman era—be it the great dynasties in towns or villages of Anatolia—was a multigenerational affair, spanning grandparents, uncles, cousins, and even distant relatives, all living under one roof.
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.
In Turkish, ağır abi, literally “heavy-weight bro”—is not your run-of-the-mill elder sibling. He is a stoic, charismatic figure who commands respect with the mere arch of an eyebrow. He doesn’t talk much; he doesn’t need to. His presence alone does the heavy lifting. And if anyone currently embodies the essence of an ağır abi, it’s Hakan Fidan, Turkey’s inscrutable foreign minister. Fidan, poker-faced and perpetually unruffled, has become the leading man in Turkey’s diplomatic theater, even overshadowing the usual stars, such as President Erdoğan and the minister of defense. He seized center stage after the fall of Bashar al-Assad’s regime in Syria, stepping up to the podium in Doha with all the composure of a man placing bets in a high-stakes poker game. His words called for an inclusive transition in Syria: “The new administration must be established in an orderly manner. There must never be a desire for revenge. It is time to unite and reconstruct the country.”
Maarif (Education, noun) is derived from the basal root Arf in Arabic, meaning knowledge. In the Ottoman Empire and early years of the Turkish Republic, the Education Ministry was called “Maarif Vekaleti.” In 1946, Maarif Vekaleti was rebaptized as “Milli Eğitim Bakanlığı,” using the modern Turkish word for both education and ministry and adding the term “national.”
Kumar (Gambling, noun) derives from Arabic and is forbidden in Islam, as spelled out in Surah al-Maidah of the Quran, where gambling is condemned alongside wine and idolatry. The aim? To incite enmity, foster distraction, and veer Muslims away from prayer. Fast forward to modern-day, secular Turkey, where gambling has made headlines once more. This time, TV personality Mehmet Ali Erbil and pop singer Serdar Ortaç, notorious for their sketchy reputations, were busted for illegal betting. The outcome? House arrest—a promising move for Erbil, an alleged serial harasser.
A week after the revelation of a scandal involving a criminal network that reaped profits by exploiting newborn babies, President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan vowed on Oct. 22 to take swift action. “As president of the republic, I will ensure that those monsters who destroyed the lives of babies never see the light of day again,” he pledged. The “Newborn Gang” scandal has cast a shadow over Erdoğan’s healthcare policies, a critical electoral stronghold for his Islamist-populist AKP.