Tens of thousands of women, angry at what they say is the government’s latest step to “Islamify” Turkey, recently signed a petition against the rise of religious marriages in lieu of civil unions.
With less than two months left until the parliamentary elections in November, Turkey is engulfed in deepening chaos and growing violence. The peace process between Turkey and the PKK that began in 2013 collapsed in July when the PKK killed two Turkish policemen it believed were linked to the Islamic State. The PKK attack was in retaliation for an Islamic State bombing that killed 32 student activists at Suruc on their way to Kobani.
This article was first published on Foreign Policy’s South Asia Channel.
Despite enduring a contentious campaign in its fight to get the ten percent of the national vote necessary to enter parliament, Turkey’s Peoples’ Democratic Party (HDP)—part of the same political movement as the Kurdistan Workers’ Party (PKK)—ran on a fundamentally optimistic platform. It articulated democratic hopes for the so-called “peace process,” that is, the Turkish government-led, long-stuttering negotiations to end the PKK insurgency that has killed more than 40,000 people since 1984.
The ironies of modern Turkey’s history seem to be emerging in sharper relief. On Sunday, August 30, Turkey will celebrate its signal victory of 1922, which capped the struggle of Kemal Ataturk, Turkey’s founding father, to secure the country’s freedom. From the beginning of that war of liberation until final victory, Ataturk worked tirelessly to gain the support of all Turks for the fight for independence. That victory of 1922 was a military triumph, but it also reflected the power of a united people to bring a dream to reality.
After months of hesitation to take action against the Islamic State (ISIS) and almost two years of quiet since a 2013 truce with the Kurdistan Workers’ Party (PKK), Turkey decided to pick a fight with both. It has been pounding Islamic State targets in Syria and PKK positions in northern Iraq.
Salafi discourse has made considerable inroads in Turkey over the past 30 years, making contributions to sectarianism in ways that have yet to be fully studied and understood.
This article was first published on Foreign Policy‘s South Asia Channel.
This article surveys and critically evaluates sectarian conflicts and trends in Balochistan during the War on Terror, concentrating primarily on the predominantly Shi‘i Hazara community based in Quetta.
June 8, 2015 – Gonul Tol, director of the Center for Turkish Studies at The Middle East Institute, discusses the reactions to Turkey’s June 7 elections, and what the setback for the ruling AK party and President Erdogan means for Turkey’s domestic policy agenda and its relations with the United States.
On June 7, Turks will choose a new parliament. This decision will be the most important one for Turkey in 70 years, since the advent of multi-party elections in 1945. The election at heart is about religion, as it brings Turkey to the brink of becoming a republic dominated by the religious convictions of its current leadership. If the ruling Justice and Development Party (AKP) wins a 60 percent majority of parliamentary seats, democratic choice will likely yield to the dogma of faith.
Soon after Ashraf Ghani and Abdullah Abdullah formed a unity government in Afghanistan in September 2014, there were signs of rapprochement between Kabul and Islamabad. When President Ghani visited Pakistan in November, he went to the army’s headquarters in Rawalpindi and laid a wreath at the monument to the country’s fallen soldiers—an indication that the Kabul government had come to an understanding with the Pakistani army, which controls the country’s Afghan policy.
Turkish citizens are going to the polls on June 7 to elect the next government that will rule the country until 2019. With an ongoing peace process with the Kurds, a stumbling democracy, an economic recession on the horizon, the prospect of constitutional reform, a stalled EU accession process, tension in Turkey-U.S. relations, and a region engulfed in chaos, the stakes have not been higher.
On May 13, more than 40 people were killed and at least 13 injured in a gun attack on a bus carrying members of the minority Ismaili Shi‘i sect in Karachi, Pakistan. This was not the deadliest attack of the year, as that dubious honor goes to a suicide bombing in a district in Sindh, which left 61 Shi‘a dead in January. Yet the brazen nature of the attack―carried out in daylight in the bustling megacity of Karachi by gunmen who reportedly boarded the bus and shot at passengers indiscriminately―was striking even in a country where over 2,000 people have been killed and 3,500 injured in sectarian attacks in the past five years.
