TURKEY’S MIDDLE EAST POLICY UNDER SCRUTINY
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.
Analysis
In-Depth Analysis
Smart, independent reporting on Turkey's politics, economy and foreign affairs.
YANGIN
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.
AİLE
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.
CHALLENGES TURKEY WILL BE FACING IN SYRIA
Among the many challenges Turkey will face in Syria three stand out. The first stems from the Arab countries. The “Arab streets” are happy to see the end of the suffering of Syrian Arabs at the hands of a dictator. Yet this joy is hardly shared by their rulers. The survival of the Assad regime symbolized the failure of the Arab uprisings of 2011 as Arab leaders feared the movement of political Islam could hit home to challenge their rule.
SİLKELEMEK
Silkelemek, or its shorthand version silkmek (shake-up, verb), carries energy, vigor, and occasionally a political punch. From its Ottoman roots to its modern interpretations, silkelemek has evolved into a word that shakes not only rugs and wrestlers but also bureaucracies, political rivals, and even dreams. At its core, silkelemek is a practical term. It conjures up vivid images of traditional housewives shaking rugs over balconies to rid them of dust. In Turkish dream interpretations, shaking a rug suggests a tranquil and orderly life, free of disruptions. It can also signify divine favor or answered prayers. Shake a rug off a balcony, and it symbolizes the achievement of long-pursued goals. Shake a dusty rug? Bid farewell to financial troubles. And if someone else shakes it for you? Expect wise decisions and peace of mind.
WILL ANKARA REPEAT ITS DELUSIONAL 2011 STANCE IN SYRIA?
Despite jubilatory rhetoric from governmental circles, Turkey was caught unprepared for the rapid fall of the Assad regime in Syria. The best scenario was to sit down with a weakened Bashar al-Assad, which explains why Turkey was still desperately expecting to receive a reconciliatory message from him when the Iranian foreign minister came to Ankara on Dec. 2 from Damascus. No doubt, Turkey will enjoy certain advantages in terms of playing a role in designing a “new Syria.” And certainly, in contrast to Iran and Russia, which appear to be the losers from the regime's fall, Turkey makes it to the list of “winners,” while Israel tops it as the “biggest winner.”
NATO’S TEST WITH THE SYRIAN SAGA
Throughout the Syrian drama, NATO never had a common vision or the resolve to push for a tangible solution to Syria’s descent into the abyss. The Arab Spring confused NATO, as it failed to determine whether it was a threat to the alliance or not. In Libya, NATO got fully engaged, but the outcome was further disintegration of that country. In Syria, a much more complex country, NATO was just reluctant, due to polarized views of member nations. NATO’s prudent planning for intervention came up with a prohibitive cost, which no one wanted to assume.
AĞIR ABİ
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.”
HALEP
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.
RETURNING HOME, COMING BACK TO LIFE
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.
EDUCATING YUSUF
Hats off to Yusuf Tekin, Turkey’s controversial education minister, for cramming all of Turkey’s thorny subjects into a single speech and creating a debate that drew in political party leaders, actresses, and laymen. It was a performance to steal the limelight from Trump, let alone Erdoğan himself. The Erzurum-born minister, who launched a controversial new curriculum last year, traveled from Baku to Batman, where he presents his education strategy to a large audience. On Nov. 17, he attended COP29 in Baku, where he explained how environmental awareness was now part of the Turkish education system. His critics would say he referred to the controversial project called CEDES, an acronym for “I protect my environment and claim my values.” The project does have an environmental focus, but it also has a “religious values” component under which local imams and preachers are assigned to each school in the project to provide spiritual guidance for students.
MAARİF
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.”