Washington Report on Middle East Affairs, March 2000, Pages
13,82
Talking Turkey
Conditions Attached to Turkey’s EU Breakthrough Present
Hard Political, Legal and Economic Choices
By Jon Gorvett
“Victory in Europe!” was the banner headline in mid-December in
one of Turkey’s leading national dailies, a slogan more reminiscent
of a soccer triumph than a major lurch forward in the country’s
long march to the West. Yet a major move it was, as the European
Union summit in Helsinki decided to give Turkey candidate status
for membership.
The move had followed a fairly unprecedented amount of lobbying,
both by the Turkish and U.S. governments, plus a considerable amount
of arm-twisting by assorted Euro heads. There had, after all, been
quite an amount of lost face to be recovered, as the previous December
1997 Luxembourg EU summit had excluded Turkey from the next wave
of expansion, leading to Ankara breaking off all official links
with Brussels.
The eventual deal that was struck was something of a triumph in
the way in which it seemed to be saying “yes” to everyone. The big
sticking points were, as always, Greece and Greek Cyprus, with the
Cypriots pressing their own application for EU membership. The summit
ruled that this could go ahead whether or not a solution had been
found to the Cyprus problem—much to the Turks’ distress (and particularly
the distress of the Turkish Cypriot leader, Rauf Denktash), but
much to the Greek Cypriots’ delight. At the same time, Greece was
also pacified by the inclusion in the EU’s acceptance of the Turkish
candidacy of a string of clauses requiring of the Turks both political
and economic progress before Ankara could even enter into accession
talks.
In fact, the initial Turkish response to the heavily conditioned
offer of candidacy status with no date for accession to start sounded
pretty dismissive. So much so that the EU dispatched one of its
principal chiefs, Javier Solana, to Ankara to “explain” the decision
to Prime Minister Bulent Ecevit. Despite rumors that Ecevit might
reject the offer, he eventually agreed and journeyed himself to
Helsinki to accept the deal.
Thus “Victory in Europe.” However, it wasn’t too long before the
euphoria began to wear off. EU membership may have been the dream
of successive Turkish administrations—indeed, may even be the final
triumph of the Republic’s founder, Kemal Ataturk, and his drive
to Europeanize the country—but, people began to wonder, what did
it actually mean?
“No more kukorec” was the first “revelation.” This roadside
snack of liver and intestines would stand no chance versus a team
of European health inspectors, cried the press, and neither would
much else in the way of traditional Turkish dishes. In some ways,
perhaps, this represented a refreshing start to Turkey’s EU career,
being reminiscent of the kind of “Save the British sausage/French
stick/German wurst” campaign that preoccupies much of the rest of
the Union; to thunder about food products seemed further indication
of a fundamental normalization in Turkey-EU relations.
Yet there were also more serious concerns. In foreign policy, the
EU had made a point of saying that Turkey would have to come to
some kind of arrangement with Greece over the Aegean. Athens and
Ankara have been locked in a cold war over the status of hundreds
of tiny islets in that sea and the extent of each other’s territorial
waters and air space. Greece has long argued that all such disputes
should be taken to the International Court at The Hague.
Turkey prefers to negotiate away from this. Under the Helsinki
agreement, however, if the parties to the dispute are unable to
reach a deal within two years, the EU may decide to refer the whole
issue to the Court anyway.
Secondly, the Helsinki deal prominently mentions political improvements
in Turkey itself. High on the list is the status of the country’s
minorities. Officially, these are only the tiny Greek and Armenian
communities.
One of the great unspoken truths of modern Turkey, however, is
that half of the country is populated by ethnic minorities, the
largest of these being the Kurds. Although the 15-year war between
the Turkish army and the guerrillas of the Kurdish Workers Party
(PKK) entered what looked to be a final phase last year, with the
capture of PKK leader Abdullah Ocalan and the military defeat of
much of the guerrilla force in southeast Turkey, the fundamental
issue of Kurdish rights, which has only a tangential relation to
Ocalan and the PKK, is unlikely ever to go away.
The Kurdish Issue
In this regard, Turkish Foreign Minister Ismail Cem, one of the
leading figures in Turkey’s successful EU strategy and in Turkey’s
recent rapprochement with Greece, spoke out a few days after Helsinki
to say that he thought there was nothing wrong with the country’s
Kurds broadcasting in their own language. Currently, although there
are several Kurdish-language publications, Kurdish, the first language
of several million of the country’s citizens, is banned from Turkish
TV and radio, and is not taught in schools.
A short while later, Mesut Yilmaz, the leader of the coalition
government’s third party, Motherland, also spoke in Diyarbakir,
the capital of the country’s largely Kurdish southeast, and made
similar noises. At the same time, President Suleiman Demirel said
that Turkey should wait for the European Court to rule on the death
sentence passed by a Turkish court on Abdullah Ocalan before deciding
whether or not to carry out the execution. Since the European Court
is likely to find the Turkish court procedure used to try Ocalan
contrary to European law, this is something of a recognition that
Turkey may not hang the PKK leader.
The path here is not likely to be a smooth one. The second-largest
party in the coalition, the rightist National Action Party, reacted
negatively to both Cem and Yilmaz, and wants Ocalan hanged as quickly
as possible. In this, they represent the view of a large number
of Turks, and find themselves also in agreement with the pro-Islamist
opposition party, Virtue.
Similarly, the nationalists have been raising fears of the EU’s
undoubted economic muscle forcing Turkey into accepting the destruction
of many of its small-scale businesses. The 1995 Customs Union agreement
signed between Ankara and Brussels had the immediate effect of making
many European imports cheaper than Turkish-made equivalents. Meanwhile,
in an effort to modernize plant and commercial facilities in order
to compete more effectively, many larger Turkish businesses imported
large quantities of European-manufactured machinery—further swinging
the balance of trade against Turkey. The fear is that the closer
the country gets to Europe, the more it is going to be out-competed
by its northern neighbors, and flooded with European goods.
However, this scenario is still some way off. Efforts to invent
a time-line for accession in the absence of an official one became
quite an industry in the latter half of December. Ecevit remarked
on how membership was “closer than anyone thinks” immediately after
Helsinki, the figure of two years being mentioned.
Later, this was revised to three or four years, while columnists
took the generally more long-term view of 10 to 20 years. Yet Ecevit
was highly optimistic when it came to human rights, saying that
“in three months” such problems would be solved if parliament continued
to pass legislation at the rate that it was currently going.
Few, if anyone, would agree with him on this, however much they
may wish his comments to come true. Convincing the EU that sufficient
progress has been made will require more than just legislative changes.
Actually enforcing these on Turkey’s giant security and state apparatus
will be an immense task. This bureaucracy is unaccustomed to being
inspected, to being held accountable, and to sharing sovereignty
with other institutions.
It may well be that it is here, in the battle to reform the Turkish
state itself, that Turkey’s European dreams will be made reality
or not. This is a particularly ironic state of affairs when that
very same bureaucracy’s whole original raison d’être was,
in Ataturk’s words, to raise the country “to the level of contemporary
civilization.”
Jon Gorvett is a free-lance journalist based in Istanbul.
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