Lessons from Turkey

IN the past few weeks, a first-class constitutional crisis has developed in Turkey. It has brought vast crowds of demonstrators out on the streets of Istanbul. Estimates show varying numbers — from 700,000 to one million. The crisis has driven the stock exchange down by an unprecedented eight per cent. Further demonstrations are taking place in various cities adding to the political uncertainty that the rapidly growing Turkish economy can ill afford.

Ostensibly, this crisis reflects the fear of the secularists, who uphold the secularism that Kemal Ataturk imposed in a bid to modernise Turkey, that the ruling Justice and Development Party (AKP), which has a clear majority in parliament, would begin (after securing the election of an Islamist as president) the process of Islamising the country.

Ostensibly, the crisis in legal terms has been triggered by the decision of Turkey’s constitutional court earlier this month that the first round of voting in the Turkish parliament to elect the president was flawed because there was no quorum — the opposition parties had boycotted the session.

To impartial observers, however it is clear that the catalyst both for the demonstrations and in large measure for the decision of the court has been the statement of the Turkish army’s high command in the last week of April that “it should not be forgotten that the Turkish armed forces is one of the sides in this debate and the absolute defender of secularism” and “when necessary, they will display their stance and attitudes very clearly. No one should doubt that.”

On its website, according to press reports, the army high command also listed instances that it believed showed that the ruling party was allowing the country to drift towards becoming an Islamic theocracy.

The Turkish armed forces have intervened repeatedly in the country’s political crises. Since 1960, the Turkish army, Nato’s second biggest, has ousted two governments through outright coups and two by “soft” coups the most recent in 1997 when they forced the so-called Islamist Necmettin Erbakan to step down as prime minister. The AKP is a modernised and moderated version of the Erbakan party and came to power in 2002 with a clear majority on an anti-corruption and pro-business platform.

The Erdogan government has presided over a period of unprecedented growth in the Turkish economy. Its privatisation programme and the incentives it offered to foreign investors has created the sort of economic boom that few other Muslim countries have enjoyed. It has pursued with surprising vigour membership of the European Union and has, in that context, initiated changes in the legal system and in relations with the Kurdish minority, which, while still deemed inadequate by the EU, represents a great advance.

It has done a great deal in the last five years to curb the powers of the armed forces. Until the recent crisis, it was generally accepted that a military coup had now become unthinkable in Turkey.

It was these advances that permitted the justice minister to issue a sharp rebuke to the armed forces reminding them that they were to take their orders from the prime minister rather than the other way round.

Prime Minister Recep Tayyip Erdogan termed the posting of the armed forces statement on the website as an “e-coup” and asserted that it was unthinkable to withdraw Mr Abdullah Gul’s candidature for the presidency.

The AKP has been sensitive to the concern that it would be perceived by the secular establishment as an Islamist party bent on introducing Sharia as the law of the country or at least undermining the current separation of state and mosque. It has done nothing to overrule the law that forbids at this time the display in public places of anything that could be regarded as a religious symbol. Nor, despite the charge laid at it door by the armed forces, has it enacted any legislation to promote an Islamist agenda.

Even in the selection of their candidate for the office of president, the party leaders exercised great care. They did not nominate Prime Minister Erdogan because he was seen as too strong a symbol of the Islamist roots of the party. They chose instead to nominate the foreign minister, Abdullah Gul, who was widely respected as a conciliator and who, in a sense, had assuaged concerns about his Islamist agenda by according higher priority to EU membership than to relations with Turkey’s Muslim neighbours.

There was, however, no doubt that in his personal life Mr Gul followed Islamic precepts. His wife wore a headscarf as do more than 55 per cent of all Turkish women, and his daughter, forbidden by law to wear a headscarf, donned a wig instead.

For the secularists, the thought of a headscarf-wearing first lady presiding over functions in the presidential palace was more than they could stand. Many of them genuinely believe that the AKP would make a Saudi Arabia out of Turkey. Significantly, some of the demonstrators in Istanbul talking to foreign reporters suggested that they would much rather have military rule than the Islamisation that they thought the AKP was bringing to Turkey.

Many of these demonstrators drawn almost entirely from urban areas argued that the AKP owed its success to playing on the sentiments of the illiterate rural poor — according to one estimate there is 30 per cent illiteracy in Turkey. They talk of their deep distrust of the hidden agenda of the Islamists and cite examples of a measure of intolerance for the lifestyles of the urban elite by the ruling party leaders and their supporters. All of this would appear to be legitimate but is this the whole truth?

A closer study of the achievements of the party suggests that it has had enormous success not only in cutting down corruption and in attracting and holding foreign and domestic investment but in creating a new elite. Anatolian businessmen have taken full advantage of the new economic climate to make money and to use this money to move into the residential areas hitherto reserved for the secular elite that makes up the Turkish establishment.

Ostensibly, this is viewed with concern because they bring to these areas headscarves and other religious symbols, but it is more likely that their intrusion is resented because they are the “nouveau riche" threatening the dominance of old money and old family. This is not an unknown phenomenon in countries that have an old culture and tradition. It takes a little time for people to adjust to new economic realities and until such adjustment comes, there will be attempts at portraying the change as other than a shift in the economic balance.

Prime Minister Erdogan has now called for early elections. These will probably now be held in June or July rather than as scheduled in November. All opinion polls agree that the AKP will return to power probably with an even more substantial majority than they now enjoy.

The warning by the armed forces and the decision of the constitutional court, which ran against the past precedent of presidents being elected without insistence on quorum, has strengthened the party’s grassroots support. The demonstrations that have dominated the headlines will make no difference to this outcome.

The record of the AKP in promoting economic development is far too impressive. The secularist opposition is too divided and, despite enjoying the army’s support, cannot attract voters who have horrible memories of the turbulence of the years in which secular parties formed fragile coalitions and provided little governance. Secure in the knowledge that he has the voter support he needs Erdogan could assert, “There is nowhere more beautiful than the ballot box for criticism.”

There is, however, likely to be some thought given within the party to recognising the extent of concern reflected at least for the time being by the mass demonstrations against Abdullah Gul’s nomination.

The AKP knows that it will be many years, perhaps decades, before the establishment permits Turkey’s Islamic heritage to play a part in determining the legal norms of the state. I am not even sure that the party wants this since it sees Turkey’s advancement as being dependent on a closer relationship with Europe and that would automatically require the maintenance of the separation of state and mosque.

They also know that relations with Europe — an important part of the secularist image of Turkey’s future — will develop only if the powers of the military can be curbed and true civilian control over the military enforced. It is another matter that after the election of Nicolas Sarkozy as president of France there appears to be little chance of Turkey being given membership of the EU.

Under these circumstances, it is unlikely that whatever the suspicions and misgivings of the Turkish armed forces they will not view the current situation as one in which they can attempt either a hard or a soft coup.

One element can change the situation and that is Kurdistan. The Turks are understandably anxious about the activities of the PKK from across the Iraqi border. They have suffered some 600 deaths in Turkey last year owing to PKK-inspired activity and have had little success in persuading the Americans either to take action against the PKK or to allow the Turks to do so.

They are also worried about the possibility of Kirkuk falling into the hands of the Iraqi Kurds and then becoming the base of an independent Kurdistan, which will then automatically look to extending itself to include the Kurdish areas of Turkey, Iran and a small part of Syria. This is something on which the Turkish armed forces take the lead and have full national support.

Are there lessons to be learnt from the events in Turkey? Next week I will try to answer that question.

The writer is a former foreign secretary.

The making of a suicide bomber

ACCORDING to a report, 20 suicide bombings have occurred in Pakistan since last year in which 213 lives have been lost. Since all of these have been carried out by people emerging from madressahs run by religious extremists, it is plain that they have been indoctrinated and trained by their mentors.

One wonders what makes a person commit such a heinous crime and that too in such a way that he gives up his own life in the process. It is now common knowledge that people committing suicide are mentally ill – it is depression and an intense sense of hopelessness and despair that drives them to resort to the extreme measure of taking their own life. But psychiatrists and psychologists are unanimous in their view that suicide bombers are not suffering from depression.

Then what is it that induces them to perform a deed which is quite unnatural? After all, nature has imbued the survival instinct in all living beings. Without this, the human race would not have sustained itself. There must, therefore, be some powerful motivation that drives a man or woman to kill him/herself.

In Pakistan’s case, it is widely believed that the would-be-suicide bombers are driven to their supposedly noble action by the so-called promise of paradise.

The dream of an idyllic life in ‘Behesht’ has been drilled into them so thoroughly that the impoverished and the famished, who have nothing to lose in this world but their poverty and misery, choose to kill themselves and along with themselves a few “infidels” who are perceived to be the enemies of the faith.

But there must still be something more that drives them. To discover that we need to take a close look at those madressahs which are the breeding grounds of suicide bombers.

According to the National Education Census conducted by the government for the first time in 2006, there are altogether 13,805 deeni madaris in the country, the highest number being in Punjab. There are 1.5 million students enrolled in them which is like a drop in the ocean when you count the number of students in the supposedly secular institutions – 33.3 million.

Perhaps, the most remarkable aspect of these madressahs is the spirit of the teachers, for they are the ones who have the drive and conviction in them to teach the students and inspire them to undertake such arduous missions as killing themselves in the name of Islam.

Not only are they highly motivated, they also have the zeal to motivate their students. How one wishes they would use their pedagogic skills to inspire their students to do something better.

After all, they possess the charisma that makes a good teacher. They establish a rapport with their students. They mesmerise them. Having won the battle for their souls, the teachers mould them as they desire. We differ with their goals. In a madressah which subscribes to the ideology of jihad and suicide bombing – not all of them do that, incidentally – the teachers proceed to motivate and inspire their students to resort to violence and become suicide bombers.

Conversely, why can’t our teachers in the secular educational institutions not motivate the students in the same way but for a better cause? By far and large the teachers, especially those staffing the government or the low fee private schools and colleges, treat their work as a job to earn a living. Lack of interest in knowledge and alienated from their students, the teachers fail to inspire and motivate them.

Not all the teachers in the elite educational institutions, who are more professional in their approach and certainly more educated, are inspired either. And fewer still pass on their motivation to their students. Those that do, appear to be concerned with instilling in them the ambition to acquire material wealth and prosperity – success being gauged by the salary package they bring home.

The impact a good teacher makes on his students in terms of developing their values and moral integrity is quite visible. Visit the schools run by the Indus Resource Centre, the Garage School, the Bus School and many others that have been set up by philanthropists with no profit motives. Meet their teachers. Talk to them. For them, it is the joy of teaching that matters. They feel fulfilled by watching their pupils’ personality grow into human beings who care for life and love their fellow creatures. You will be impressed by their spirit of live and let live. Since they also have the skill and zeal to motivate their students – as much as the madressah teacher – they do it for a better cause.

However, they do not need the crutches of religion to teach the young ones about love for one’s fellow beings. Since their approach is secular they view goodness and evil in terms of human life and social justice. For them, a man’s character and nobility is not determined by the god he worships.

They do not have to teach the art of killing people in the name of jihad. In fact life is sacred for them. Their students believe, such as Tanveer the little boy from the Garage School, in the goodness of all religions.

A few years ago when he could read and write with a little effort – today he is visually challenged -- describing his school he had written, “We have children from four faiths studying together – Hindu, Sikh, Muslim and Christian. We are all human beings and get along very well. We never fight.”

Tanveer went on to learn some Braille at the Ida Rieu School, learnt cane work, joined the Karachi cricket team for the blind and has now been waiting for two years for a job in the handicapped quota. He too was inspired by his teacher at the Garage School, but mercifully not to become a suicide bomber.

The right advice

SUCCESSIVE governments in Pakistan have had their series of advisers whose prime qualification was to know exactly what advice would find favour with the rulers and which advice to hold back. The present government’s team of advisers is undoubtedly good and yet it fumbles and stumbles. Maybe what it needs is a good psychologist.

In the United States, the El Dorado for psychoanalysts and psychologists, everyone who can afford it has one of the two. They constantly go to him for advice of all kinds; in moments of stress, during business crises, for solution of family problems, when they are making a lot of money and when they are somehow not making money.

Just as we instinctively turn to God when in trouble, Americans run to their psychiatrist. They pour out their innermost thoughts into his ear. He then tells them what is wrong with them. This they already know but they go to him just for confirmation. Psychiatrists are to Americans what pirs are to most Pakistanis.

Those who have lived in the US tell me the country is seething with psychiatrists. It doesn’t take much to set up one. All you need is a small room (clinic) and a big couch. A degree doesn’t matter. What you require is a soothing bedside manner and the confidence to justify the accuracy of your analysis even when you know you are wrong. The idiot lying on the couch must have trust in you, and his cheque book should be handy. That’s all.

If I know all this, the late Dr Rashid Chaudhry should have known it even better than me. He was one of Pakistan’s best-known psychiatrists and founded the Fountain House for patients needing psychological treatment. Once he opined that every Pakistani politician who wanted to be popular should keep a psychologist with him (or her) in order to give counsel in advance on what reaction his press statements were going to evoke among the public.

It was Professor Rashid’s calculated view that a political leader armed with a psychologist’s advice could trim his sails accordingly and not waste time and energy in making frivolous, untimely and meaningless statements, which they usually do.

But the trouble is that in Pakistan there aren’t enough psychologists to go around while politicians grow like mushrooms. In fact language experts may well have to amend the metaphor and we may soon be saying that mushrooms sprout like politicians in this country.

And if fifty or more politicians of various hues are to go to one psychologist, imagine the confusion. With nearly seventy political parties registered with the Election Commission, and more being born every day, the poor chap will have to be excused if he tends to mix up things.

Quite possibly a patient from the Jamaat-i-Islami may be advised to visit the mazaar of Zulfikar Ali Bhutto in Garhi Khuda Bakhsh and, by having a good cry, go through a catharsis. On the other hand, a rabid Bhutto fan may be asked to recite the words “Ziaul Haq Mard-e-Haq” ten times after each meal. He won’t last long as a psychiatrist that way. But then, as they say, accidents will happen in the best of families.

An old friend has something to add to Dr Rashid’s observation. He says that the prescription that politicians should obtain constant advice and guidance from psychologists is no doubt useful. People in politics get so used to the sound of their own voice that they are apt to ignore words of wisdom uttered by others. But the reverse can also be true, and politicians too can sometimes tender good advice.

He explained it with an example. “There was in Pakistan a devoted worker in the cause of the handicapped and the mentally retarded, with no politics in him. When Mr Bhutto’s government before 1977 helped the cause dear to his heart he was all praise for it. Then General Zia came, and by putting his entire authority and influence in favour of the handicapped did more for them than anyone could ever imagine. He had a suffering daughter.

“When the PPP government of Ms Benazir Bhutto came into power, this selfless worker, at an official function in Karachi, praised the general for what he had done. The result was that he had to flee for his life from the place, with the jiyalas in hot pursuit. Had he kept a politician in attendance the favourable remark about the General, in a PPP gathering, could never have been made.” This friend then added in a whisper, “that dedicated social worker was none other than Dr Rashid Chaudhry.”

That is why I say that no one in the world, not even a psychologist, howsoever worldly-wise and experienced in human behaviour he may be, can claim that he is Mr Know-All and can do without advice. Of course no one can stop him from claiming that he can, but a fact is a fact.

Here is a story that may not be exactly relevant to the present topic but it does illustrate the role of advice in politics. A number of newspaper columnists were invited by Prime Minister Benazir Bhutto some time before the dismissal of her government with the express purpose of stating their honest opinion on national and political matters.

After she had spoken for an hour, one of them, the oldest and the boldest in the group, asked if they too could speak freely and frankly. The PM graciously gave permission. After about ten minutes, during which she constantly fidgeted in her chair, she got up and left without a word. At the end of waiting for more than an hour, the group was told that the meeting was over.

Maybe some of the advisers of the present government have heard this story and prefer to remain silent rather than offer advice which they know for certain will not be liked by the powers-that-be. Sensible chaps, I must say.

Bring them back

WHATEVER the future holds, the United States has not "lost" and cannot "lose" Iraq. It was never ours in the first place. And however history will judge the war, some key US goals have been accomplished: Saddam Hussein has been ousted, tried and executed; Iraqis have held three elections, adopted a constitution and established a rudimentary democracy.

But what now? After four years of war, more than $350 billion spent and 3,363 US soldiers killed and 24,310 wounded, it seems increasingly obvious that an Iraqi political settlement cannot be achieved in the shadow of an indefinite foreign occupation. The US military presence — opposed by more than three-quarters of Iraqis — inflames terrorism and delays what should be the primary and most pressing goal: meaningful reconciliation among the Sunnis, Shias and Kurds.

This newspaper reluctantly endorsed the US troop surge as the last, best hope for stabilizing conditions so that the elected Iraqi government could assume full responsibility for its affairs. But we also warned that the troops should not be used to referee a civil war. That, regrettably, is what has happened.

The mire deepens against a backdrop of domestic US politics in which support for the ill-defined mission wanes by the week. Better to begin planning a careful, strategic withdrawal from Iraq now, based on the strategies laid out by the Iraq Study Group, than allow for the 2008 campaign season to create a precipitous pullout.

With four out of five additional battalions now in place, there is no reason to believe that the surge will help bring about an end to what is, in fact, a multifaceted civil war. The only bright spot is in Al Anbar province, where Sunni tribal leaders have joined US forces in the fight against foreign Al Qaeda fighters. They deserve our continuing support. But as long as civil war rages in Iraq, even the post-surge force of 160,000 troops cannot achieve more than marginal progress.

As Gen. David H. Petraeus, the top US war commander, has acknowledged, the solution to Iraq's problems cannot be military. Yet political progress has been backsliding. It was only frantic White House intervention last week that prevented the resignation of the last Sunni leaders in the Shia-dominated Cabinet of Prime Minister Nouri Maliki. The Sunnis say the Maliki government is sectarian, corrupt and incompetent; and they're right. The Bush administration should convene national peace and reconciliation talks as early as possible — say June 1. All of Iraq's parties, tribes, ethnic and sectarian factions, except for Al Qaeda, should be invited to the table.

But an important element needs to be taken off the table: American blood. The US should immediately declare its intention to begin a gradual troop drawdown, starting no later than the fall. The pace of the withdrawal must be flexible, to reflect progress or requests by the Iraqis and the military's commanders. The precise date for completing the withdrawal need not be announced, but the assumption should be that combat troops would depart by the end of 2009. Iraqi political compromise is more likely to come when Washington is no longer backing the stronger (Shia) party. US troops could then be repositioned to better wage the long-term struggle against Islamic extremism.

We are not naive. US withdrawal, whether concluded next year or five years from now, entails grave risks. But so does US occupation. The question is how best to manage the risks.

First, there is the grim prospect of a bloodbath in Iraq. But the best way to forestall slaughter is political reconciliation, not military occupation. Second is the worry that Al Qaeda will establish a beachhead in Al Anbar. Yet Iraqis have already turned against the foreign fighters. Third, the neighbours may meddle. Alarmists fear an Iranian proxy state in Baghdad; southern Iraq is already allied with Tehran. But Iraq's neighbours are more likely to be helpful once withdrawal is assured, and instability is not in their interests, especially without a US occupier to bleed.

Having invested so much in Iraq, Americans are likely to find disengagement almost as painful as war. But the longer we delay planning for the inevitable, the worse the outcome is likely to be. The time has come to leave.

––Los Angeles Times