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RECEP TAYYIP ERDOGAN: TURKEY'S DIPLOMATIC DYNAMO
The National
http://www.thenational.ae/apps/pbcs.dll/a rticle?AID=/20100522/WEEKENDER/705219882/1041/FORE IGN
May 22 2010
UAE
His straight talking may at times have been a liability, but with a
solid base behind him, he has whipped his country's foreign policy
into shape, wooing the Middle East and catching his traditional allies
off balance. Yigal Schleifer assesses a mercurial prime minister.
It has been a busy couple of weeks for Recep Tayyip Erdogan, the
Turkish prime minister. There were visits from Bashar al Assad, the
Syrian leader, and the Russian president Dmitry Medvedev to deal with,
strategically significant trips to Greece and Azerbaijan to get out
of the way, and even a jaunt over to Spain to receive an honorary
doctorate.
And, oh yes, there was that short stop in Tehran on Monday to sign
the nuclear fuel swap deal brokered by Turkey and Brazil with Iran.
Turkey's mercurial leader is clearly a man on the move - and he
is taking his country along for the ride. A decade ago a somewhat
cautious American ally and Nato member, Turkey today is becoming a
force to contend with, particularly in the Middle East, a region it
had kept at an arm's length for decades.
Much of this change can be attributed to policies pursued by Erdogan
(pronounced "erdo-ahn") and his Justice and Development Party, or AKP.
Since being formed in 2001 by Erdogan and other members of the
reformist wing of one of Turkey's veteran Islamist parties, the AKP has
become a significant force in Turkish politics, winning two national
elections decisively and becoming the first single-party government
to rule in almost two decades.
The years preceding the AKP's first election, in 2002, were
particularly difficult ones for Turkey, marked by a severe economic
crisis and the after-effects of the 1980 military coup.
The AKP's success in righting the country at home appears to have
provided Erdogan with opportunities in the foreign arena.
The troubles before the AKP came to power "created a major political
vacuum in Turkey. Those were really horrible years and Turkey lost big
time," says a senior foreign policy adviser. "The AKP came to power and
proved to the world that it could run this country much better than all
the other governments before. The more successful AKP became, the more
new possibilities in foreign policy emerged. It's no longer a narrow
nation-state agenda. It's a regional agenda. It's a global agenda."
For the past several years, Erdogan - with the help of Ahmet Davutoglu,
his foreign minister - has been shaking up Turkey's foreign stance:
recalibrating relations with its traditional allies, the United States
and Israel, re-engaging with the Arab and Muslim countries of the
Middle East, and positioning Turkey as a global soft-power broker.
Relations with Syria and Iran have improved dramatically. From being
on the verge of war a decade ago, Ankara and Damascus are now on the
road to becoming close allies.
In October, Turkey and Armenia signed a historic set of protocols
that lays the groundwork for the two countries to restore relations
and examine their difficult past. Although currently stalled,
the reconciliation process with Yerevan still represented a major
breakthrough.
Turkey has also been involved in mediation efforts between Israel
and Syria, between Fatah and Hamas, between rival groups in Lebanon,
between Afghanistan and Pakistan, and now between Iran and the West.
This new-found diplomatic activism has left many of Turkey's
traditional allies off balance. In Washington, Ankara's increasingly
strained ties with Israel and warming relations with Iran have raised
question marks about its future orientation.
In the Middle East, meanwhile, Turkey's assertive reappearance has
created a stir. Erdogan's regional popularity - at street level,
at least - skyrocketed after his 2009 performance at Davos, where he
stormed off the stage he was sharing with Shimon Peres, the Israeli
president, after angrily berating him for his country's actions
in Gaza.
Erdogan returned a hero, crowned the "Conqueror of Davos" by a crowd
of cheering supporters waiting at the airport. The drama also helped
introduce him to a Middle Eastern public.
For Turks, meanwhile, Davos was very much about Erdogan simply being
Erdogan. The prime minister came of age in the streets of Kasimpasa,
a scruffy working-class neighbourhood with a rough reputation near
the heart of old Istanbul, and he maintains a straight-talking,
no-holds-barred style. While out on the hustings a few years ago,
he famously told off a farmer who was complaining about his economic
situation with words that would have made a sailor blush. His lawyers,
meanwhile, have made something of a cottage industry out of suing
cartoonists and others who the PM feels have insulted his dignity.
His family migrated to Kasimpasa from the Black Sea coast when he
was a young teen, and in the winding streets that lead off from
the neighbourhood's main mosque, locals still consider Erdogan one
of them. "He was just a typical guy, with two suits and a Tofas" -
a boxy Turkish-made Fiat, is the way one local put it.
Many in the neighbourhood remember him as an outstanding footballer
who might have gone pro had his conservative father not forbidden it.
(Kasimpasa today has a gleaming new government-built football stadium,
named after the prime minister.) Many also remember the political
ambition he showed early on.
At 16, Erdogan joined the youth branch of the Islamist National
Salvation Party, a precursor to the Welfare Party, which governed
Turkey for a shaky 12 months until it was forced out of power by
the military in 1997. Erdogan quickly rose through the party ranks,
becoming chairman of its Istanbul branch by the mid-1970s. A military
coup in 1980 put his political aspirations on hold, but in 1994 he
was back, successfully running for mayor of Istanbul.
Erdogan's tenure as mayor was, by all counts, a success. He improved
the city's infrastructure, installing water and sewage lines and
upgrading public transport. But he also caused serious concern when
he banned the serving of alcohol at city-owned establishments and
issued statements such as: "One cannot be a secularist and a Muslim
at the same time."
In 1998, at rally in the south-eastern Turkish town of Siirt, Erdogan
read a poem as part of a speech. "The minarets are our bayonets;
the mosques are our barracks; our believers are our soldiers," he
told the crowd. The Turkish authorities, looking for a way to muzzle
Erdogan, charged him with "religious incitement", an accusation that
got him banned from holding political office and earned him four
months in prison.
The National
http://www.thenational.ae/apps/pbcs.dll/a rticle?AID=/20100522/WEEKENDER/705219882/1041/FORE IGN
May 22 2010
UAE
His straight talking may at times have been a liability, but with a
solid base behind him, he has whipped his country's foreign policy
into shape, wooing the Middle East and catching his traditional allies
off balance. Yigal Schleifer assesses a mercurial prime minister.
It has been a busy couple of weeks for Recep Tayyip Erdogan, the
Turkish prime minister. There were visits from Bashar al Assad, the
Syrian leader, and the Russian president Dmitry Medvedev to deal with,
strategically significant trips to Greece and Azerbaijan to get out
of the way, and even a jaunt over to Spain to receive an honorary
doctorate.
And, oh yes, there was that short stop in Tehran on Monday to sign
the nuclear fuel swap deal brokered by Turkey and Brazil with Iran.
Turkey's mercurial leader is clearly a man on the move - and he
is taking his country along for the ride. A decade ago a somewhat
cautious American ally and Nato member, Turkey today is becoming a
force to contend with, particularly in the Middle East, a region it
had kept at an arm's length for decades.
Much of this change can be attributed to policies pursued by Erdogan
(pronounced "erdo-ahn") and his Justice and Development Party, or AKP.
Since being formed in 2001 by Erdogan and other members of the
reformist wing of one of Turkey's veteran Islamist parties, the AKP has
become a significant force in Turkish politics, winning two national
elections decisively and becoming the first single-party government
to rule in almost two decades.
The years preceding the AKP's first election, in 2002, were
particularly difficult ones for Turkey, marked by a severe economic
crisis and the after-effects of the 1980 military coup.
The AKP's success in righting the country at home appears to have
provided Erdogan with opportunities in the foreign arena.
The troubles before the AKP came to power "created a major political
vacuum in Turkey. Those were really horrible years and Turkey lost big
time," says a senior foreign policy adviser. "The AKP came to power and
proved to the world that it could run this country much better than all
the other governments before. The more successful AKP became, the more
new possibilities in foreign policy emerged. It's no longer a narrow
nation-state agenda. It's a regional agenda. It's a global agenda."
For the past several years, Erdogan - with the help of Ahmet Davutoglu,
his foreign minister - has been shaking up Turkey's foreign stance:
recalibrating relations with its traditional allies, the United States
and Israel, re-engaging with the Arab and Muslim countries of the
Middle East, and positioning Turkey as a global soft-power broker.
Relations with Syria and Iran have improved dramatically. From being
on the verge of war a decade ago, Ankara and Damascus are now on the
road to becoming close allies.
In October, Turkey and Armenia signed a historic set of protocols
that lays the groundwork for the two countries to restore relations
and examine their difficult past. Although currently stalled,
the reconciliation process with Yerevan still represented a major
breakthrough.
Turkey has also been involved in mediation efforts between Israel
and Syria, between Fatah and Hamas, between rival groups in Lebanon,
between Afghanistan and Pakistan, and now between Iran and the West.
This new-found diplomatic activism has left many of Turkey's
traditional allies off balance. In Washington, Ankara's increasingly
strained ties with Israel and warming relations with Iran have raised
question marks about its future orientation.
In the Middle East, meanwhile, Turkey's assertive reappearance has
created a stir. Erdogan's regional popularity - at street level,
at least - skyrocketed after his 2009 performance at Davos, where he
stormed off the stage he was sharing with Shimon Peres, the Israeli
president, after angrily berating him for his country's actions
in Gaza.
Erdogan returned a hero, crowned the "Conqueror of Davos" by a crowd
of cheering supporters waiting at the airport. The drama also helped
introduce him to a Middle Eastern public.
For Turks, meanwhile, Davos was very much about Erdogan simply being
Erdogan. The prime minister came of age in the streets of Kasimpasa,
a scruffy working-class neighbourhood with a rough reputation near
the heart of old Istanbul, and he maintains a straight-talking,
no-holds-barred style. While out on the hustings a few years ago,
he famously told off a farmer who was complaining about his economic
situation with words that would have made a sailor blush. His lawyers,
meanwhile, have made something of a cottage industry out of suing
cartoonists and others who the PM feels have insulted his dignity.
His family migrated to Kasimpasa from the Black Sea coast when he
was a young teen, and in the winding streets that lead off from
the neighbourhood's main mosque, locals still consider Erdogan one
of them. "He was just a typical guy, with two suits and a Tofas" -
a boxy Turkish-made Fiat, is the way one local put it.
Many in the neighbourhood remember him as an outstanding footballer
who might have gone pro had his conservative father not forbidden it.
(Kasimpasa today has a gleaming new government-built football stadium,
named after the prime minister.) Many also remember the political
ambition he showed early on.
At 16, Erdogan joined the youth branch of the Islamist National
Salvation Party, a precursor to the Welfare Party, which governed
Turkey for a shaky 12 months until it was forced out of power by
the military in 1997. Erdogan quickly rose through the party ranks,
becoming chairman of its Istanbul branch by the mid-1970s. A military
coup in 1980 put his political aspirations on hold, but in 1994 he
was back, successfully running for mayor of Istanbul.
Erdogan's tenure as mayor was, by all counts, a success. He improved
the city's infrastructure, installing water and sewage lines and
upgrading public transport. But he also caused serious concern when
he banned the serving of alcohol at city-owned establishments and
issued statements such as: "One cannot be a secularist and a Muslim
at the same time."
In 1998, at rally in the south-eastern Turkish town of Siirt, Erdogan
read a poem as part of a speech. "The minarets are our bayonets;
the mosques are our barracks; our believers are our soldiers," he
told the crowd. The Turkish authorities, looking for a way to muzzle
Erdogan, charged him with "religious incitement", an accusation that
got him banned from holding political office and earned him four
months in prison.