kemalism in cyprus by umut uzer

Umut Uzer received his Ph.D. in Politics from the University of Virginia and is Research Professor in Turkish Studies at the Department of Political Science, University of Utah. He has been a Postdoctoral Fellow at the Center for Middle Eastern Studies at Harvard, and has taught at the State University of New York and the University of Maryland University College.

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ii

IDENTITY AND TURKISH FOREIGN POLICY

The Kemalist Influence in Cyprus and the Caucasus

UMUT UZER

Published in 2011 by I.B.Tauris & Co Ltd 6 Salem Road, London W2 4BU 175 Fifth Avenue, New York NY 10010 www.ibtauris.com Distributed in the United States and Canada Exclusively by Palgrave Macmillan, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York NY 10010 Copyright © 2011 Umut Uzer The right of Umut Uzer to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved. Except for brief quotations in a review, this book, or any part thereof, may not be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher. Library of International Relations 52 ISBN: 978 1 84885 569 4 A full CIP record for this book is available from the British Library A full CIP record for this book is available from the Library of Congress Library of Congress catalog card: available Printed and bound in Great Britain by CPI Anthony Rowe, Chippenham from camera-ready copy edited and supplied by Oxford Publishing Services, Oxford

Contents

Acronyms and Abbreviations vii Acknowledgements ix Preface xi Maps xiii

Introduction: The Role of Ideas and Interests in Turkish Foreign Policy 1

1. State Identity and Foreign Policy: The Impact of Ideas and Power 15

2. The Three Paths of Turkish Nationalism and Kemalist State Identity 34

3. Turkish Foreign Policy Analysis 55

4. The Annexation of Hatay: Exception or Harbinger of Future Policy? 88

5. Turkey’s National Cause: Cyprus in Turkish Foreign Policy 105

6. The Karabagh Issue and the Emergence of the Turkic World 153

Conclusion: Competing Interests and Identities in Turkish Politics 184 Notes 193 Bibliography 214 Index 229

To Alp and Ayşe

vii

Acronyms and Abbreviations

AKEL Anorthotikó Kómma Ergazómenou Laoú (Progressive Party of Working People)

ANAP Anavatan Partisi (Motherland Party)

BSEC Black Sea Economic Cooperation CENTO Central Treaty Organization CIS Commonwealth of Independent States CSCE Conference on Security and Cooperation in Europe CTP Cumhuriyetçi Türk Partisi

(Republican Turkish Party) DP Democratic Party DSP Demokratik Sol Parti

(Democratic Left Party) DTP Demokratik Toplum Partisi

(Democratic Society Party) ECO Economic Cooperation Organization EEC European Economic Community EOKA Ethniki Organosis Kyprion Agoniston

(National Organization of Cypriot Fighters) EU European Union HEP Halkin Emeği Partisi

(People’s Labour Party) JDP Justice and Development Party KGB Komitet gosudarstvennoy bezopasnosti

(Committee of State Security) KFOR Kosovo Force MHP Milliyetçi Hareket Partisi

(Nationalist Action Party or Nationalist Movement Party)

MIT Milli İstihbarat Teşkilatı (National Intelligence Organization)

ACRONYMS AND ABBREVIATIONS

viii

MP Member of Parliament NAP Nationalist Action Party NATO North Atlantic Treaty Organization NGO non-governmental organization NSP National Salvation Party OIC Organization of the Islamic Conference OSCE Organization for Security and Cooperation in Europe PKK Partiya Karkerên Kurdistan

(Kurdistan Workers’ Party) PLO Palestine Liberation Organization ROC Republic of Cyprus RPP Republican People’s Party TGNA Turkish Grand National Assembly TIKA Turkish Cooperation and Development Agency TIPH Temporary International Presence in the City of Hebron TKP Toplumcu Kurtuluş Partisi

(Communal Liberation Party) TMT Türk Mukavemet Teşkilatı

(Turkish Resistance Organization) TRNC Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus TRT Turkish Radio and Television TÜSİAD Türk Sanayicileri ve İşadamları Derneği

(Turkish Industrialists and Businessmen’s Association) UNOMIG United Nations Observer Mission in Georgia USSR Union of Soviet Socialist Republics WASP White Anglo-Saxon Protestant WINEP Washington Institute for Near East Policy

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Acknowledgements

This book was written at various locations in the world including Charlottesville, Virginia; Cambridge, Massachusetts; Nicosia, Cyprus; Stuttgart, Germany, Ankara, Turkey and finally in New York City. Throughout this scholarly journey my wife Ayşe has always been supportive of my academic endeavours. I would like to express my heartfelt thanks for her continuous support.

Identity and Turkish Foreign Policy is a revised version of my doctoral dissertation at the politics department of the University of Virginia. The day I defended my dissertation in Charlottesville, I also learned that I was going to be a father. Therefore, this study constitutes a double blessing in my life.

My academic supervisor William Quandt throughout my graduate studies was most influential on my academic development. With his focused criticisms and suggestions, the book became a more powerful study.

The committee members, Professor Allen Lynch with his precise recommendations, Professor John Owen with his conceptual correctives and Professor Elizabeth Thompson with her excellent knowledge of the political history of Turkey, significantly contributed to the quality of the book. Needless to say, all the remaining shortcomings are mine.

Richard Senior of Stuttgart was a delightful editor. I express my gratitude for his contribution to my study in a non-English speaking environment. I also would like to thank Selina Cohen for her strenuous work in the preparation of this work.

Rasna Dhillon worked closely with me from the inception to the conclusion of the publication process. I thank her for her close cooperation.

Dr Ayça Ergun of METU suggested a significant number of sources on Azerbaijan.

Ali Yaycıoğlu at Harvard and Hasan Ali Karasar at Bilkent, both as

PREFACE

x

friends and colleagues, enhanced my empirical knowledge and scholarly framework of analysis in our bilateral and trilateral exchanges.

Cemal Kafadar provided a venue for me to research at Harvard’s Center for Middle Eastern Studies.

Ibrahim Karaer at the State Archives in Ankara, was helpful for my research on Hatay and Cyprus.

Ambassador Erhan Öğüt proofread Chapter 5 and clarified the approximate boundaries of Western Thrace.

The staff at the embassy of the Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus in Ankara, particularly Counsellor Dilek Yavuz Yanık and cultural attaché Güler Fedai, provided a figure for the number of the casualties for the 1963–74 clashes.

Neşe Şahin helped me with the diagrams and charts. I express my gratitude to all the individuals mentioned above for

their encouragement and contribution to my academic studies. An earlier version of Chapter 4 was published under the title

‘Turkish Annexation of Hatay’ in the Journal of South Asian and Middle Eastern Studies, vol. 30, no. 3, Spring 2007. I would like to express my gratitude to the editor of the journal, Hafeez Malik, for allowing me to publish the article in this book.

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Preface

This book deals with Turkey’s interactions with the Turkic world and addresses the impact of Kemalist state identity, which propagates a specific form of nationalism in Turkish foreign policy. The conditions for Turkey’s involvement in the politics of Turks living outside Turkey are specified in the Turkish foreign policy model that is articulated in this study. In this vein, a typology of various Turkish nationalisms and their respective foreign policy outcomes regarding Turkish populations living outside the boundaries of Turkey is offered.

Kemalist state ideology and the state identity that it constructed are of paramount interest. This is because Kemalist ideology defines the kind of state Turkey is and hence guides Turkish foreign policy by prescribing and proscribing certain actions. Such a framework of analysis is grounded in the constructivist school of thought in inter-national relations theory.

Turkey showed different levels of involvement in Hatay, Cyprus and Karabagh. I will try to demonstrate these with the concept of the ladder of involvement and analyse the preconditions for Turkish intervention in the affairs of external Turks (Dış Türkler). Involvement can range from material and verbal support given to Turkish Cypriots and Azeris, to lobbying on behalf of them at international organiz-ations and even directly taking military precautions or measures.

Turkey started supporting Turkish groups in Hatay in the 1920s and the 1930s, eventually annexing the entire area in 1939 through a mix of diplomatic and military means. As for Cyprus, Turkey escalated the level of involvement from declarations of support for Turkish Cypriots to outright military intervention. In the Karabagh case, on the other hand, there was a low level of involvement, consisting mostly of public declarations of support by politicians and allowing demonstrations by nationalist groups.

It is the contention of this book that when domestic and

PREFACE

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international constraints cease to exist, a window of opportunity opens, which Turkey is willing to embrace by involving in the affairs of external Turks.

xiii

Maps

Note: TRNC = Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus.

Eastern Mediterranean including Cyprus and Hatay.

MAPS

xiv

Karabagh.

1

Introduction: The Role of Ideas and Interests

in Turkish Foreign Policy

In the quest to understand social phenomena, social scientists face hurdles their colleagues in the positive sciences never encounter. The ideology of the scholar, biases in the sources and the existence of multiple variables make the social scientist’s task particularly arduous. The inability to ascertain precise causal patterns can make scholarly endeavours in the social sciences especially challenging and exciting. The fact that we deal with political issues puts the political scientist in a position of immense relevance for the society in question and the world at large. In the social sciences, to comprehend a situation or to describe it in a more precise way, and to be able to approach reality, one has to look at the topic under investigation from a variety of angles, including the political, economic, social, cultural, historical, legal and even psychological. Because such a holistic research agenda is beyond the mental capacity of any individual scholar, we need to demarcate our methodology and the intellectual tools we use in our research.

One way to surmount the existence of multiple variables is to accept the economists’ principle of ceteris paribus. We focus on political affairs and to a large extent ignore economic and other social factors. Such an approach has advantages as well as disadvantages. The former stem from the fact that we can limit our area of study and focus on particular issues; otherwise it is impossible to concentrate on a particular issue and to frame our research question. The disadvantage of the ceteris paribus approach is that we might miss some important factors that might well have a bearing on our study.

When analysing real world events, an either–or approach is unfeasible. It is impossible to say that either identity alone or interests


2

alone account for Turkish foreign policy. Usually, neither purely materialistic nor purely idealistic factors determine political decisions at either the domestic or international level. To explain a specific case one needs to go beyond the internal–external dichotomy; one needs to ascertain what is inside the black box and to focus on the international system. In other words, a constant eye needs to be kept on all factors that might have a bearing on the study.

Praising one theory ‘to the exclusion of others’ and insisting on parsimony inevitably results in neglecting certain interesting issues that could enrich one’s understanding of the ‘empirical puzzle’. For this reason I favour analytical eclecticism, in other words ‘selectively’ drawing ‘on different paradigms’ while keeping an eye on both material interests and ideals. I find ‘problem-driven research’ without a prior commitment to idealism or materialism preferable to an ‘approach-driven analysis’.1

In this book I examine the role of identity in foreign policy decisions. More specifically, I discuss the impact of Kemalist state identity, which propagates a specific form of nationalism (Kemalist nationalism), on Turkish foreign policy. The Turkish foreign policy model applied to this study sets out the conditions of Turkey’s involvement in the lives of Turks living abroad. I provide a typology of various Turkish nationalisms and their respective foreign policy implications for Turks living outside the boundaries of Turkey. By pointing out that windows of opportunity allow cultural influences to have an impact on a generally cautious policy, I offer a necessary correction to the assumption held by some scholars and the Turkish establishment that Turkish foreign policy always followed a peaceful and non-expansionist path.

This book starts from the assumption that the Turkic world is an ontological reality. That it actually exists as a fact, however, does not automatically translate into a variable guiding the foreign policies of the seven Turkic states – Turkey, the Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus, Azerbaijan, Turkmenistan, Uzbekistan, Kazakhstan and Kyrgyzstan. In other words, the existence of such a cultural and historical entity does not ipso facto lead to pan-Turkish ideologies.

In my analysis, I contrast nationalist ideology with the rational calculation of state interests in making policy decisions. More spe-

INTRODUCTION

3

cifically, I try to discuss whether Turkey’s involvement in Cyprus from the 1950s onwards and in Nagorno-Karabagh and the Turkic world at large in the 1990s was a function of pan-Turkist dispositions or whether it was a rational calculation of the national interest that prompted Turkish foreign policy. In any discussion of these issues, Kemalist state ideology and the state identity it constructed are of paramount interest because Kemalist ideology defined the kind of state Turkey is and hence guides Turkish foreign policy by prescribing and proscribing certain actions. The foreign policy establishment usually presents Atatürk’s motto, ‘Peace at home, Peace in the world’, as the guiding principle of Turkish foreign policy. However, Turkey is less peaceful than Kemalist ideologues have us believe – this is manifested in the threat to use force if Greece were to extend its territorial waters beyond six miles in the Aegean or if a Kurdish state were declared in northern Iraq. Turkey has stated that it considers such eventualities casus belli.

I also provide, in the light of the state interests–state identity debate, a general analysis of Turkish foreign policy from the estab-lishment of the republic until the end of the twentieth century. From the beginning of the cold war in 1946 until 1963, the date when Turkey began to see its interests diverge with those of the United States and Europe, international considerations, in particular the Soviet threat, could account for Turkish foreign policy. Consequently, realism, classical state interests and the balance of power all seem to be relevant. However, after the Turkish commitment to Turkish Cypriots, ideational factors seem to have gained the upper hand. There is something inherent in Kemalist state identity that accounts for the possibility of involvement with Turks living outside the boundaries of Turkey. This should not, however, be construed as irrational engagement, but rather as an attempt to protect state interests. Adventurism, often labelled Enver Pashaism (Enver Paşacılık), with reference to the leader of Turkey who is perceived to be responsible for the entry of the Ottoman Empire into the First World War and hence its dissolution, is always condemned by the Kemalist cadres and has resulted in what I would call an Enver Pasha syndrome – that is the labelling of activist foreign policy as adventurism with disastrous consequences. Lessons learnt from the past make the foreign policy


4

elite highly cautious and prudent in involving the country in risky external issues.

It is my contention that two competing explanations can be offered for Turkish foreign policy analysis. A purely rational/ strategic under-standing of Turkish foreign policy would envisage the primacy of raison d’état, in which the policy makers would make a rational analysis of world politics and try to maximize state power within the international system in terms of a cost-benefit analysis. They would not show much interest in culture, identity and sentiments in making their decisions so that a very similar set of outcomes would emerge from the decision-making process, no matter who is in power. The major assumptions of this analysis would derive from the realist school of thought in international relations theory.

The alternative explanation can be called an identity-based analysis, in which identity and common culture play paramount roles in foreign policy outcomes. Sentimental attachments to kinsmen living abroad and efforts to enhance their well-being, and even to liberate them and unite them with the motherland (irredentism) are expected outcomes. Constructivism offers the theoretical framework for this kind of explanation.

As the book will make evident, Turkey followed neither a purely egoistic nor a nationalistic foreign policy but a combination of both elements. In this vein, it is essential to analyse both strategic-rational and ideational-sentimental factors. With regard to the case studies, an identity-influenced actor would have been the advocate of captive Turks and would have worked energetically for their cultural rights and/or would have worked for their complete independence and their annexation with the motherland – namely Turkey. So, a nationalist Turkey would have been involved in the fate of the Turks in Cyprus ever since the independence of Turkey and have promoted their cause domestically and internationally. In other words, Turkey would have intervened earlier in Cyprus than it actually did. As a matter of fact Turkey was reluctant to get involved in the fate of Turks living outside its borders. Similarly, regarding the Karabagh Azeris, an identity-oriented Turkey would have worked for an end of the occupation of Karabagh by Armenians, would have brought the issue to an international forum and employed coercive measures towards Armenia

INTRODUCTION

5

– the patron of Karabagh Armenians – including a show of force and military intervention.

To sum up, a nationalist Turkey would have given full support to all outside Turks and would have been an active actor in their fate. It would not rule out the use of force, as can be seen in the Turkish intervention in Cyprus.

A rational Turkey, on the other hand, would make a case-by-case analysis and get involved in foreign issues only if action would maximize its power. In other words, interest in Turks living in foreign countries is sanctioned if and only if they serve the higher goal of state interests. Unless such a condition exists, there is no motive for involvement. As regards Cyprus, a rational Turkey would not have intervened in the island in 1974 since such a military involvement would undoubtedly have brought world condemnation and ostracized Turkey on international platforms. That is not to deny that control of whole or part of the island brought strategic benefits, for instance now that there was a friendly entity in northern Cyprus the southern ports of the country are safer because of the operation. However, the costs outweighed the benefits. Not only did Turkey have to subsidize the island economically, but it also had to spend substantial amounts of money for its military presence in the north. More importantly, the American arms embargo between 1975 and 1978 was a direct result of Turkish intervention in Cyprus. Furthermore, the United Nations, European Union and the non-aligned countries criticized Turkey for its policy towards Cyprus.

In the case of Karabagh, a rational Turkey would have pursued a cautious policy, condemning the violation of Azerbaijani sovereignty but employing only diplomatic methods. After all, a direct confrontation with Armenia would have brought Russia into the picture, the latter being a supporter of Armenia. Similarly, due to the presence of the Armenian lobby in the United States, a clash with the USA could also not be ruled out. In conclusion, a low-profile policy regarding Karabagh would have been the policy emerging from a rational calculation of the state interests.

In the light of these assumptions and initial observations, I can point out that Turkish foreign policy adhered to an identity-based foreign policy – albeit arrived at somewhat late – towards Cyprus and


6

an interest-based policy toward Karabagh.2 It should be emphasized, however, that these are initial suggestions ready to be refuted as the study proceeds. Identity-based and interest-based models of foreign policy lead to divergent outcomes, one based on systematic calculations of state interest and the other emanating from feelings of nationhood and kinship. It should also be pointed out that different kinds of identities – Kemalist, pan-Turkist and conservative nationalism – would also have led to varying foreign policy goals.

Through in-depth analysis I try to ascertain if nationalism is likely to lead to foreign policy outcomes and, if so, under what circumstances; I also try to analyse what initially appears to be a Turkic division on policy issues. The historical trajectory of the Turkish nation and the emergence of nationalism are essential in understanding the contemporary Turkic scene. An in-depth study of Turkish nationalism and its influence on Turkish foreign policy will be undertaken to answer the larger question of the role of ideas in foreign policy making. The question of when ideology plays a role in formulating foreign policy is relevant. The kind of ideology that is influential in key foreign policy decisions is, in my judgement, a function of the construction of state identity and the international environment in which the state interacts.

Identity is mutually constructed as a consequence of interactions with other actors. The state machinery officially limits state identity, whereas national identity involves the desires of a people who share common myths for a common state. Where there are multiple identities, as in the Middle East, namely state identity, Arab identity and Islamic identity, there is the possibility of conflict between these identities since competing identities may prescribe contradictory behaviours.3 Even a ‘modified realist theory’ applied to the Middle East, which emphasizes states as the main actors of international and regional politics and aims to maximize autonomy and security, necessitates a discussion of state, sub-state and supra-state identities. Hinnebusch and others argue that while these identities are significant, constructivists have neglected power configurations that led to the decline of pan-Arabism, such as the 1967 Six Day War or the two Gulf wars of 1980–88 and 1991.4

The significance of identity politics is such that it has constitutive

INTRODUCTION

7

but not necessarily causal implications, such that it makes certain policy behaviours ‘possible and probable’.5 It is in this sense that Kemalist state identity makes particular prognostications of Turkish foreign policy possible.

State Identity and State Interests The main hypothesis of this study is that state identity and interests play a larger role than pan-nationalism in the delimitation of foreign policy in Turkey. This hypothesis will be tested by Turkish involve-ment in Cyprus, which remains a puzzle as far as the role of nationalism versus state interests is concerned. This stems from the fact that, for a long time, Turkey was not worried about the fate of Turks living outside its borders, be it in Bulgaria, Greece, Iraq, the Soviet Union or China. A question that remains to be answered is why Cyprus? The classic explanation is that Turkey had a moral responsibility to its kinsmen on the island and that the island was strategically important since its occupation by a hostile power would have jeopardized Turkey’s access to the open seas. The two arguments were together accentuated but these explanations beg the question of why only Turkish Cypriots, but not other Turks, should have been so important. After all, it is a known fact that in the late 1940s and early 1950s, Turkey was reluctant to get involved in Cyprus, limiting its area of concern to its national boundaries.

In my judgement, Turkey’s involvement in Cyprus should be seen in the larger picture of Turco–Greek relations and the historical lesson of Crete and other territories lost to Greece. Particularly, the Crete analogy is important since the island similarly had Turkish residents and was lost due to the involvement of the great powers. As far as Cyprus was concerned, this historical memory of loss of territory for centuries by the Ottoman Empire makes any further Greek territorial expansion unacceptable. Ever since it gained its independence from the Ottoman Empire, Greece increased its territory at the expense of the Turks. So the Greek extension of its power to Cyprus, through annexation (enosis) or the establishment of a Greek state in Cyprus, were deemed unacceptable and detrimental to Turkish national interests. The element of nationalist feeling and state interests converged over Cyprus, so when Britain


8

provided a window of opportunity to get Turkey involved in Cyprus, Turkey seized it.

The emergence of the Turkic states in 1991 – Azerbaijan, Turk-menistan, Uzbekistan, Kazakhstan and Kyrgyzstan caused some excitement in Turkey, but whether it led to the emergence of pan-Turkism remains to be tested in this study. A constructivist approach to Turkish foreign policy is essential because a definition of its state identity as peaceful and non-expansionist had a very strong influence on Turkey’s foreign policy behaviour. A constructivist framework is best suited to analysing ideational factors such as pan-Turkism and Kemalism. This is what I intend to offer in this book, without, however, disregarding material factors such as the strategic considerations that are paramount for the security of all states.

My independent variable is Turkish nationalism and the dependent variable is Turkish foreign policy. I shall try to test if there is a causal relationship between those two variables by making an overview of Turkish foreign policy and analysing the three cases that would suggest at first sight that nationalism played a significant role in Turkish foreign policy behaviour – namely Turkey’s annexation of Hatay, its involvement in Cyprus and its policy towards the newly independent Turkic states, with special emphasis on the Nagorno-Karabagh conflict between Armenia and Azerbaijan, which constrained Turkish foreign policy. If in those three cases, I prove that nationalism played a limited role, then we can conclude that in other cases nationalism played an even less significant role. However, if I find that nationalism played a role in those decisions, then we have to explain why Turkey was involved in those three cases involving outside Turks but not in other cases.

My main research questions are as follows: what is Turkish nationalism and when and how did it evolve? What are the components of Kemalist nationalism and Kemalist foreign policy and why was there so little interest in Turks living outside the boundaries of Turkey? What were the main motives of Turkish foreign policy? Why did Turkey get involved in Cyprus? Was it an anomaly in a pattern of non-involvement or was the annexation of Hatay in 1939 a harbinger of things to come? Did the emergence of the Turkic world alter the classically cautious behaviour of Turkish foreign policy?

INTRODUCTION

9

Furthermore, was Turkey involved in the rational calculation of state interests when taking foreign policy decisions or was there a place for pan-Turkism? Was the construction of state identity in the Kemalist mould so paramount that it ruled out all other factors? Finally, were there other systemic factors at play, such as the leverage of regional or superpowers, or did Turkey simply have insufficient power to conduct an expansionist foreign policy?

In this study I assume that ideas matter and that they construct the world in which we live. The international system provides a framework of action by prescribing or proscribing certain actions, but at the end of the day it is the decision makers who take or fail to take action, depending on their ideology and courage. The international system might punish certain actions, for instance it might force Turkey to abandon an expansionist policy, yet we need to look at both domestic and international spheres to understand why Turkey chose to follow a certain policy.

Involvement in the affairs of Turks living abroad is defined as Turkish statesmen and diplomats expressing support for the cultural and political rights of Turks. This entails making threatening remarks to the states in which they reside, deploying troops along the border of the target state and conducting outright military operations. The activities defined as involvement range from making supportive declarations to military occupation.

As discussed throughout the book, Turkey showed different levels of involvement in Hatay, Cyprus, Western Thrace and Karabagh. I will try to demonstrate these different levels at the ladder of involvement and analyse the preconditions for Turkish intervention in the affairs of external Turks (Dış Türkler).

Involvement can range from material and verbal support given to Turkish Cypriots and Azeris, to lobbying on behalf of these groups at international organizations and even directly taking military precautions or measures.

It should be pointed out that each level of involvement can be escalated to a higher level. The lowest would be to give financial support to Turkish organizations abroad. This level of involvement is usually secret and is paid by a special fund under the authority of the prime minister. The second level of involvement would be to tolerate


10

demonstrations by non-governmental organizations for a particular national cause. Escalating the level of involvement would result in declarations by politicians defending the rights of ethnic Turks in a region outside the boundaries of Turkey. Going up in the ladder of involvement would entail covert operations in another country by politically and militarily organizing the external Turks. The highest level of involvement would be outright annexation through military intervention or through diplomatic channels.

In the case of Hatay, Turkey exercised different forms of involvement ranging from financial support of social clubs and news-papers to the highest level of involvement culminating in the annexation of the region.

In Cyprus Turkey escalated the level of involvement from declarations of support for Turkish Cypriots to outright military intervention. In the Karabagh case, on the other hand, there was a low level of involvement, mostly public declarations of support by politicians.

The significance of this study for the academic world and for policy makers lies in the fact that it analyses a country that has the potential to be a regional power, if it is not so already, and that has close contacts with the United States, to which it has given full support on wide-ranging issues from its prospective membership of the European Union to the Baku–Ceyhan pipeline. Its conclusions should help policy makers who want to understand a country that might appear incomprehensible. Academically, it contributes to the literature on nationalism and the realist-constructivist debate by linking two subfields of political science – comparative politics and international relations – and offering insights from an insufficiently studied country.

The cases selected for study are chosen with one eye focused on the larger problems of Turkish foreign policy; they are also historically and theoretically grounded in the relevant literatures. It should be pointed out that republican Turkey, with its pro-Western policy, had increasingly close relations with the Western world and the Middle East. After Turkey’s accession to NATO in 1952, Turkish foreign policy, with a few exceptions, was attuned towards the United States. As a result, Turkish foreign policy was not, in fact could not have been, unique. I hope to demonstrate that the methods and conclusions

INTRODUCTION

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deployed in this study can be replicated and compared with other cases.

By studying the role of ideas versus interests in Turkish foreign policy I hope to contribute to international relations theory, the literature on nationalism and to area studies. While the latter includes the Middle East, Turkish foreign policy and Turkic studies also extend to the Balkans, Caucasus and Central Asia. Modern Turkish studies are underdeveloped compared with Ottoman studies or contemporary Arab studies. Scholars and analysts do not specifically address the impact of Kemalism on Turkish foreign policy. Similarly, a comparative study of pan-Turkism, official nationalism and conservative nationalism is a novel endeavour. By undertaking such a study, I hope to widen our understanding of a specific form of nationalism in a country that is essential to the policy calculations of the world’s sole superpower, the United States, be it in the war against Iraq or in the new oil pipelines from Baku to Ceyhan on the Turkish Mediterranean coast, or in the fight against terrorism. Such an endeavour would have both academic and policy relevance, for it would clarify the role of ideas against material interests manifested in the competing international relations schools of constructivism and realism, and it would offer some guidance to the policy makers who devise strategies towards the Turkic world.

By taking a closer look at specific foreign policy decisions such as Turkish involvement in Cyprus and its involvement with the Turkic world, I will test if there was a specific causal progression from ideas to foreign policy decisions. Analyses of these decisions by scholars and decision makers and the speeches of politicians justifying these acts will be consulted to make a final judgement on the point. These case studies will be the evidence against which the hypothesis will be tested.

The major players in this study can be divided between domestic and international actors. The most influential internal foreign policy makers are the government, the public, the foreign ministry and the army. The international actors are the USA, Russia, Britain, Greece, Cyprus and Syria. The respective positions and interests of the relevant actors will be analysed for the Hatay, Cyprus and Karabagh cases.

Finally, in national disputes such as the Turkish–Greek, Armenian–Azerbaijani and Arab–Israeli conflicts, it would be difficult if not


12

impossible to make a judgement on who is right and who is wrong. Each party considers its position just and itself as the underdog. It is not my intention to make moral judgements about the conflicts I analyse. Since this book is about Turkish foreign policy, Turkish perceptions are highlighted but, space permitting, I also refer to other antagonists’ positions without any preference about the validity of each claim.

The Outline of the Study The book, besides the introduction and conclusion, is divided into six chapters. Chapter 1 covers the theoretical background to the distinction made in international relations between ideas and material factors. I shall give special attention to the impact of state identity on foreign policy. In this chapter I also address the question of nationalism as a political force and as an ideology. Special emphasis is given to the role of pan-nationalisms and irredentism in international politics. Chapter 2 is about the emergence of Turkish nationalism and the development of Turkish state identity with the establishment of the Republic of Turkey in 1923. In Chapter 3 I address Turkish foreign policy analysis by focusing on the main actors in the foreign policy process. I also offer a model that would allow scholars to make analyses and predictions about Turkish foreign policy behaviour. In Chapter 4 I attempt to tackle Turkey’s annexation of Hatay through diplomatic means and discuss it as a case that might possibly be comparable to Cyprus. Chapter 5, which is about the Cyprus problem and Turkish involvement in the island, covers the period from the late 1950s, the creation of the Republic of Cyprus in 1960, the de facto destruction of the republic in 1963–64 and Turkish military intervention in 1974. Why Turkey intervened in Cyprus but not in Western Thrace in Greece or Kirkuk in northern Iraq is a significant question I shall try to answer. In Chapter 6 I address the re-emergence of the Turkic world as five Turkic states gained independence in the aftermath of the dissolution of the Soviet Union. What was the impact of this event on Turkish foreign policy? Did Turkey follow a pan-Turkist foreign policy? How did state interests and pan-national interests differ? The Nagorno-Karabagh conflict is taken as a case study to understand Turkish policy in action towards the Turkic world.

INTRODUCTION

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For the founding fathers of modern Turkey, there was no distinction between the Turkish and Turkic peoples as they referred to all of them as Türk. While all the Turkic peoples were depicted as Turks, the joint history of all the Turks was emphasized as Inner Asia was their original homeland. Having said this, founders of modern Turkey were more concerned with the former territory of Ottoman Empire and more specifically with the unredeemed lands of the National Pact, which remained outside the boundaries of modern Turkey. To sum up, the establishment’s views towards external Turks aimed at rectification of the borders and acquisition of land that was unjustly stolen from them, in their judgement, rather than expansionism or irredentism. Needless to say, they were more focused on the borderlands of Turkey than on the Caucasus or Central Asia. Their interest regarding the latter two geographical areas was more historical and academic than political.

In each of my case studies, I offer a framework of analysis based on the definition of national interest, conduciveness of the inter-national environment to Turkish intervention, and the domestic situation with regard to elite and popular actors. Both decision makers and the public at large define the national interest at a particular point in time. For Turkey to pursue an active role in the fate of fellow Turks outside its boundaries, the conflict in question needs to be defined as of vital interest to Turkey, which is under a moral obligation to intervene. The international environment is composed not only of the configuration of power in the system but also of the policy inclinations of the major powers and their domestic and foreign policy preferences. French concerns about the looming crisis in Europe and the German threat during the Hatay conflict, or American politicians’ concern about the Watergate scandal before the Turkish intervention in Cyprus all have significant policy implications. The domestic scene provides the setting in which all the actors who have an impact on decision making are taken into consideration. They include political parties, bureaucracy, the media and the wider public.

I conclude with an overall assessment of nationalism in Turkish foreign policy. Ideational versus material factors in explaining foreign policy decisions are discussed in the light of the empirical case studies.

During the course of the study I consulted books and articles on


14

international relations and nationalism, primary and secondary sources on Turkish politics and foreign policy, monographs on Cyprus, and the memoirs of diplomats and politicians. I conducted interviews with past and present Turkish and Turkish Cypriot politicians and diplomats who were instrumental in formulating key policy decisions towards Cyprus and other areas of foreign policy. I also carried out research at the state archives, namely the republican archive located in Yenimahalle, Ankara.

The methods I employed to answer my research questions and test my hypotheses included reading numerous books and articles on Turkish politics, the Cyprus question and the Nagorno-Karabagh conflict, as well as interviewing various policy makers to uncover the real motives behind their foreign policy decisions on Cyprus and Azerbaijan. A content analysis of politicians’ and diplomats’ public statements and memoirs provide helpful answers to questions about the relative impact of nationalism and state interests in foreign policy. I have also analysed politicians’ justifications for the decisions taken, as well as scholars’ explanations and journalists’ commentaries on these political matters.

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1 State Identity and Foreign Policy: The Impact of Ideas and Power

In this chapter I address one of the major debates in international relations theory, namely the impact of material and ideational factors on the foreign policies of individual countries. This issue lies at the heart of the divergence between realism and constructivism, the two major schools of thought in the discipline of international relations. Both theories emerge from a desire to give meaning to the complex world of international politics and offer guidelines to the explication of foreign policies. Yet, because of their differing ontological roots, they arrive at different conclusions. In setting out the theoretical background to the book I shall draw on both international relations and nationalism literature.

International relations theories can both help differentiate between the unique and ‘generalizable’ in any specific case,1 and ‘bring order and meaning to a mass of phenomena’.2 In analysing world politics and the foreign policies of particular countries, it is important to observe patterns and determine regularities.

Kemalist state identity emerges as a key concept in this attempt to explain Turkish foreign policy. Consequently, constructivist elements such as nationalism and Kemalism are accorded considerable impor-tance in my analysis, but, as constructivism teaches us, ideational factors do not operate in a vacuum but in the real world. To give meaning to Turkish foreign policy we need to engage both construc-tivism and realism, and these complement each other in the analytical framework. Before going on to offer a general exposé of nationalism and to link it with my case study, I think it would be helpful to embark on a discussion of realism and constructivism in international relations theory as they relate to my study.


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Realism and Constructivism: Material and Ideational Factors in International Relations For a long time during the course of the twentieth century political realism was the dominant paradigm in the field of international relations. In my judgement, realism was the main consideration for most periods of diplomatic history dating from the Peace of Westphalia in 1648 onwards, which was the period when states began to struggle for mastery through the accumulation of power and wealth. The First World War shattered the optimism of the era preceding it and the Second World War contributed even further towards fostering the belief that individual states needed to increase their power if they were to survive in the anarchic world order. Needless to say, powerful states have swallowed up weak states throughout political history, as Nazi Germany and the Soviet Union before, during and, in the case of the latter, after the Second World War, so aptly demonstrated.

Classical realists, among whom Hans Morgenthau ranks as prominent, define international politics as a constant ‘struggle for power’. In that regard, domestic politics and international politics are perceived as having the same objective – amassing power. Further-more, state interests are ‘defined in terms of power’.3 Power is a relative term: the amount of power a state possesses is always com-pared with the power of another state.4 So, power in absolute terms has little relevance in international relations. Rather, the power of a state is significant only when compared with the relative power of other states.

The major assumptions of realism are as follows: states are the major actors in world politics; they are rational actors; and they seek power for survival, security or world domination.5 In other words, this state-centric approach regards states as major actors of the inter-national system, and as rational unitary actors.

E. H. Carr, another proponent of classical realism, argues that ‘pure realism can offer nothing but a naked struggle for power, which makes any kind of international society impossible.’ Therefore, it is essential to ensure that political decisions combine both moral and power elements. Having defined power as ‘an essential element of politics’, Carr goes on to talk about military and economic power, as well as the power to influence opinion. The last element entails propaganda and

STATE IDENTITY AND FOREIGN POLICY

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public relations, which are used as instruments with which to control the minds of the masses. For instance, communist ideology was an element of Soviet power. From the discussion above, it becomes apparent that purely material factors are insufficient to explain political phenomena,6 even for a classical realist like Carr.

Structural realism modified classical realism in such a way that explanations of international behaviour should be sought at the systemic level, or at the ‘international-political level’,7 rather than at the individual or state level. The international system, like all social systems, has a structure and interacting units. The structure of the system influences the interacting units, composed mostly of states, and the latter in return also influence the structure. Structures do not determine the behaviour of states but limit the number of options for a state in formulating its foreign policy. There is no direct causality from the structure of the international system to foreign policy. The distribution of capabilities among the units of the system determines the structure of a system.8

Because there is no world government to regulate inter-state behaviour, states operate within the realm of anarchy. That is why the primary objective of states is survival and, consequently, self-help is the best policy for state security, as war can break out at any time. States are constantly worried about being overrun, so they have a low incentive to cooperate with other units of the system. Security and the preservation of their positions in the system are attained through balancing the power of menacing states.9

One of the major challengers to the dominant paradigm in international relations is the constructivist school of thought.

The constructivist school of thought in international relations perceives of state interests as ‘constructed through a process of social interaction’. Adopting a sociological approach to international politics, the constructivists argue that cultural variables determine how national security issues are defined and interpreted.10 According to this theory, the social construction of ideational factors and their respective influence on state behaviour are key explanatory variables.

Structures are ‘determined primarily by shared ideas rather than material forces’ and state identities and interests are ‘constructed by these shared ideas’, so this is a ‘social rather than material phe-


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nomenon’. That is not to say that structures are purely ideational. The structure of the international system is ‘composed of both material and ideational elements’.11

Constructivists do not deny the power variable in international relations but they stress that power has different meanings in different contexts. They give the example of American power as having different connotations for Canada and Cuba,12 less threatening for the former, more threatening for the latter.

Alexander Wendt, who supports an idealist ontology, argues that it is the distribution of ideas in the international system that matter – a state of affairs he characterizes as ideas all the way down. Yet, he qualifies that term by saying that he does not deny that material capabilities limit the number of options a state has in its foreign policy decisions. States interact with each other and relate through shared ideas.13 And power is constituted by ideas,14 floating both at the domestic level and the international level. In other words, real world edifices need to be interpreted by the policy maker or scholar. Weapons or factories are material as well as mental constructs. This is not to argue that those things are not real but rather that people need to give meaning to their use and nature.

Constructivists attack realists by pointing out that interests are in fact no more than ideas to which actors have accorded meaning. In other words, states need to define their interests.15 Consequently, national interest is not out there; it needs to be clarified, defined, argued and defended. Moreover, the populace at large and the key centres of power, whether the military or business, need to be convinced of and co-opted to the articulated national interest.

National interests include survival, autonomy, prosperity and self-esteem.16 However, these are general objectives that are essential for all states. How to attain these goals seems to be more important because they are of little use in understanding and analysing specific foreign policy cases. Also, the price worth paying for a particular policy objective needs to be calculated. In other words, when taking a foreign policy decision, decision makers need to evaluate the ramifications of that policy for its relations with other countries.

Identity, which can be defined as a ‘sense of self’, is another important concept in constructivism. The awareness of ‘self-


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consciousness, that individuals as a group possess distinct qualities as an entity that differentiates’ them from others entails ‘individuality and distinctiveness’.17 The construction process is social and relational because national and state identities are constructed in relation to other such entities.18

State identities ‘refer to who or what actors are’, whereas interests are about what actors want.19 Furthermore, intersubjective beliefs determined legitimate statehood as well as ‘rightful state action’. Ever since the US and French revolutions, a legitimate state is a state based on national sovereignty that works for the public good of all its citizens.20

Identity denotes the creation of statehood and nationhood emanating from particular ideologies within that identity. Identities are formed as a function of the states’ relations with their domestic and international spheres.21

Norms are the third key concept after identities and interests. Norms determine the ‘proper behaviour’ of states by either directly constituting state identity or by influencing the policy outcomes of existing state identities. As a result, they offer predictive power as they draw the framework of what is right and what is wrong – hence the expectations of the international community from the state in question. Norms ‘define (or constitute) identities or prescribe-proscribe (regulate) behaviour’.22 According to the constructivist school of thought, norms do not determine foreign policies of various states but rather limit the number of policies that can be chosen.23 Norms influence and ‘shape’ state identity, and state identity has a direct impact on the definition of state interests. Norms of racial equality or anti-militarism in Japan and Germany after the Second World War changed the policies of those two countries.24 Prohibitionary norms emanate from states’ perceptions about what they do or do not do. The non-use of chemical weapons is one such norm,25 so constructed state interests lead to certain policy behaviours. It is no longer conceivable for Germany to exert Hitler-like pressure on the Czech Republic or to annex Austria. Changed norms of state behaviour bring with them other forms of pressure. In other words, Germany might want to extend its influence through economic means, not by military methods.


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One example of such a normative change occurred in Israel under the former prime minister, Yitzhak Rabin. A redefinition of Israeli national identity away from Greater Israel into references to democracy and Zionism allowed Israelis to withdraw from Gaza and Jericho in 1994–95. Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin framed the issue in terms of Israel’s national security; in other words, to preserve a Jewish majority in Israel it needed to withdraw from the occupied territories.26

To sum up, constructivists take issue with realist assumptions that state interests are exogenously given and states are rational actors. Instead, they focus on how identities are constructed,27 leaving the possibility of change in identities. Constructivist scholars also criticize realism for its lack of focus on internal variables, which were critical at the end of the cold war.28 I argue that some balance is needed between external and internal factors, and between material and social variables in scholarly analysis. Constructivism further argues that purely material variables are not enough to define the power of states. Rather, ideational and cultural variables need to be introduced when defining state capabilities.29 We need to focus on the ‘ideational front’, which consists of nationalism, human rights norms and concerns about the environment.30 In this study I concentrate only on one of the concepts above, namely nationalism, and its influence on the shape of state behaviour, which in turn leads to certain policy decisions.

The structure of the international system has both material and normative or ideational factors; the identity and interests of states can both be constrained and constituted by that very international structure. Normative structures are not immutable but formed through social interactions and state liaisons with other states.31

One of constructivism’s strengths, as well as one of its weaknesses, is that it takes both the social and material environment into account.32 It lacks the parsimony of realism, for it has so many explanatory variables that it is difficult to determine which is the most important. In other words, it is hard to find out which variable is providing the explanation at a particular point in time.

It should also be added that there can be ideational factors for realpolitik actions when there is a ‘parabellum strategic culture’.33 Kemalism in this sense puts paramount emphasis on state security, while at the same time its definition of the state as Turkish and its


21

emphasis on Turkish history, culture and language offers both realist and constructivist frameworks for Turkish foreign policy.

We can also argue that at the systemic level international insti-tutions ‘reconstitute state interests’. The discourses that are articulated justify actions based on values that are derived from those norms.34 To clarify that point, if states adopt certain discourses, constructivists expect that they would undertake policies commensurate with those discourses.

Most constructivist works are case studies of single countries and they lack domestic agency.35 As opposed to Wendt’s systemic constructivist analysis, my study is longitudinal and takes domestic factors into account. It is not purely constructivist, however, for realism has a strong explanatory power as well. For those interested in real world events, some element of compromise of parsimony is necessary if an accurate analysis of the issue is expected.

When analysing the foreign policy of a single country, systemic and domestic factors should be included to see which factors explain specific foreign policy decisions.36 It has been specified that realism focuses on systemic factors, whereas liberalism focuses on domestic and external variables. Constructivism, however, incorporates the study of both internal and external identities and norms.

In fact, Moravcsik makes such an amalgamation by taking both domestic and transnational society as influencing state preferences, which in turn result in specific policy outcomes. Societal groups protect their interests and influence decision makers. But there are also transnational influences – namely other states that have an impact on state behaviour.37 It is often necessary to cross the domestic–international borderline in analysing international relations at large, as well particular foreign policies.

Analysing Arab politics from a constructivist framework, Michael Barnett argues that inter-Arab relations cannot be understood from a purely realist framework because Arab states did not arm against each other through an arms race. Rather, they followed the norms of Arabism and accused each other of violating those norms when they wanted to put pressure on their rivals. To move out of the ‘Arab consensus’ could bring regional condemnation and domestic riots. Norms of Arabism determined the ‘parameters of what constituted


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legitimate action’. In fact, argues Barnett, the power of Egypt under Gamal Abdel Nasser did not emanate from the country’s military power, but rather from Nasser’s ‘ability to impose a meaning on the events of his time’.38 Similarly, the power of the Palestine Liberation Organization (PLO) did not emanate from material elements, such as military or economic power, but from the symbol of the Palestine cause as part of the common Arab consensus and the PLO’s symbolic power in shaping correct behaviour for Arab states. This was defined as symbolic capital owned by the PLO, which excluded Arab states from active involvement in the peace process with Israel. Barnett described this as a situation in which the PLO could veto the foreign policies of Arab states.39 To clarify this, if the PLO were to brand a particular policy as treason to the Arab cause, the Arab masses would turn against their own governments. This stems from the fact that the Palestinian cause is one of the sacred issues of Arab politics.40

It should also be added that pan-Arabism was influential in the creation of state identities and interests, which in turn determined the foreign policies of various Arab states. In the past few decades, however, we have experienced the decline of pan-Arabism and the rise of statism.41 In other words, state identities have been getting stronger at the expense of pan-Arab ones. While there is still a devotion to pan-Arabism at the discourse level, politically Arab states are suspicious of each other and consequently prefer to stick to their state identities.42 Even though Barnett does not see it this way, this development might be a factor pointing to the validity of realism, as Arab states not only created separate identities but more importantly tried to increase state power through economic and military means.

A public sphere approach to Arab politics emphasizes deliberation, persuasion and dialogue in the Arab ‘public sphere that transcended state borders’. In other words, Arab leaders need to address the larger Arab public when they undertake certain policy decisions. Regional Arab order is based on the ‘moral purpose of the state’ and is composed of unlike units – contrary to Waltz’s assertion that states interact as like units. There is a constant struggle to define a state’s identity, in this case Jordan’s, through public discussions. While King Hussein might be the ultimate decider, he does not operate in a vacuum but in Jordanian and larger Arab spheres.43 In his study Lynch


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argues that it is essential that one studies both the rhetoric of the decision makers and the foreign policy behaviour of states.44 His study is also an example of the necessity to move from the domestic to the international sphere and vice versa for a sound analysis of foreign policy.

That the Arab states defined themselves as Arab, committed to Arab nationalism, defence of the Arab motherland and the Palestinian cause, results in a form of foreign policy that is constrained by and directed towards Arab priorities.

Of course, there are multiple identities in any society and the salience of one over rival or complementing identities needs empirical study. This is one of the strengths of constructivism. It accounts for variation in foreign policy analysis. Yet, that there are numerous identities makes it an arduous job to detect which identity is doing the explanation at a specific point in time.

In the case of Turkey, Turkish identity is a key variable in its internal and external politics. The form that identity takes, however, is presented by the three currents of nationalism defined in Chapter 2. Here again constructivism offers the theoretical background. It is not only certain material factors that are important but also how we give meaning to those ‘realities’. That a certain Turkish nation exists is a fact, but how you define that nation is elemental. Is it a Muslim nation or a secular-modern nation? And from that definition, we can find strong hints about the kind of foreign policy the country will follow. A state with a Muslim Turkish identity would follow a foreign policy with more emphasis on Muslim countries. That seems to be the case of the JDP government, and increasingly since 2007. While a nationalist identity at the domestic level would support an opening up to the Turkic republics, a Western identity would be more supportive of Turkey’s membership in the EU. We should be aware that there are elements of nationalism and Westernism in Atatürk’s ideas. While the former might be more useful in explaining Turkish policy towards external Turks, the latter element might offer a better understanding of Turkey’s quest for membership in the European Union. I will elaborate on the last point in the concluding chapter of this study.

The founding fathers of modern Turkey – among whom Atatürk was the most central figure – defined Turkey as a Turkish state built on


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the negation of the multinational, theocratic Ottoman Empire. The reason Europeans defined the Ottoman Empire as Turkish was because the Turks were the dominant element in the empire rather than the existence of any strong Turkish national consciousness. According to the Kemalists, republican Turkey was to be secular and nationalist. In that sense, there was a redefinition of state identity as well as of domestic and foreign policies. The latter were defined as peaceful compared with Ottoman foreign policy, which the Kemalist elite characterized as expansionist and aggressive.

It would be in order to conclude this section by pointing out that nationalism influences state identity. There are different forms of nationalism, for example pan-nationalism, irredentism and territorial nationalism. The theoretical basis of nationalism will be introduced in the next section and the empirical aspects of Turkish nationalism will be discussed in Chapter 2.

Nationalism as an Ideology: Its Propagators and Critics Nationalism is one of the strongest ideas developed by the human mind. It has constructed elements as well as essential elements. To clarify what has just been said, nationalism depends on an ethnic core,45 real enough to characterize that group of people by themselves and outsiders as distinct from the surrounding ethnies. Also, the nationalist project constructs historical myths, coins words and gives meaning to historical events from a nationalist world view.

Nationalism is such a central phenomenon in political affairs that we neglect the concept at our own peril. Yet, we should not present nationalism as an overarching variable; rather, we need to analyse the kind of nationalism about which we are talking.46 I shall dwell upon the varieties of nationalism in the next chapter.

If we are to look at the psychological roots of nationalism, we can easily detect that nationalism addresses a psychological necessity. Bloodlines ‘cannot be crossed. Two groups who have been neighbours for generations may suddenly be transformed into merciless enemies’. This stems from the fact that, to have a sound identity, people need to have a sense of belonging.47

This is not to say that ethnic conflicts can never be resolved. We can find ample evidence in western Europe that they can be overcome,


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especially through regional and economic organizations. The European Union evolved from the European Coal and Steel Community into a quasi-supranational organization. What should be remembered is that the Europeans were able to achieve a zone of peace and security only after two devastating world wars and the American security umbrella during the cold war. In the Balkans–Middle East–Caucasus triangle, however, national suspicions and hatreds are very much alive. It seems unlikely that these animosities will whither away in the foreseeable future.

One reason for this state of affairs is that the regions in question are at a lower level of political and economic development than Europe. State consolidation is still incomplete, by which I mean that state institutions, be it in tax collection or in other areas of rule enforcement, are at a lower level of sophistication than in Europe. The colonial past looms large for most countries in the world, in addition to countries such as Iran, Turkey and Greece which never lost their independence except for short periods of time but all of which faced the effects of major power imperialism, including English, French, Russian and German colonialism.

So, the rivalries and feelings of injustice are still fresh and with the glorious past of Turks, Arabs, Iranians and Greeks still vivid in their memories, the current political situation in which they are merely small or medium players is highly unsatisfactory for them. Only after these countries have attained a higher level of political satisfaction and economic development might there be a chance to supersede nationalism and create mechanisms that would alleviate ethnic conflict. Also, it should be pointed out that state legitimacy has still not taken root in an adequate manner among the peoples of the region, where ethnic identifications are quite strong. In this vein, rival identities clash with each other at the domestic level and with the ‘other’ (Israel, the United States or Iran, depending on from what angle one is looking at the situation) at the regional level. Rival nationalisms clash over Cyprus, Karabagh and Palestine–Israel. The perception of the conflicts from zero sum games to non-zero sum games necessitates radical perception changes on the part of people of the Middle East and beyond.

It is important to note that most ethnic identities are ancient.


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Before nationalism can appear, intellectuals need to articulate a national consciousness for the masses to adopt. By this I mean that in many cases national consciousness is a given. Its level of intensity and scope varies. In other words, the amount of national feeling among the populace and intelligentsia varies over time and place. To construct nationalism – to extend a national consciousness to the entire people of a country and to transform their emotions into ideology – takes time, but the endeavour nonetheless satisfies a need to belong and to give meaning to a complex world. In the pre-nationalist era religion filled that role. In a post-nationalist world, humanity or religion could no doubt fill that role again, but I suspect that it will take a very long time to reach that stage.

Nationalism is a key concept in explaining many of the conflicts in today’s world, from the Arab–Israeli conflict to the Cyprus dispute between Turks and Greeks on the island and in their respective mainlands.

I tend to agree with Anthony Smith who argues that nationalism is a historically-embedded ideology. It has been and still is a strong force in world politics.48 Ethnicity offers the core around which nations develop. It should also be added that in many cases nations precede modernism.49 A group of people needs to share a language, culture and history to qualify as an ethnic group. Furthermore, they should perceive themselves as different from other people, whether nearby or far away.

In fact ‘nation-ness is the most universally legitimate value in the political life of our time’.50 In that sense this idea has enormous explanatory power both in internal and external politics. For my purposes in this book, nationalism forms state identity at the top and shapes the ideological inclinations at the grassroots among the populace. These feelings animate public opinion, which puts pressure on policy makers to be more responsive to national issues.

The evolution of nationalism from a cultural phase A, to a propaganda phase (phase B) by the intellectuals culminates in phase C, in which the majority of the people have internalized nationalist ideology.51 The initial phase entails studies on the history and language of a particular nation. The second phase politicizes this scholarship and interprets a people’s history in a nationalist fashion. And in the


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final stage the masses are nationalized or turned into nationalists. The rise of Turkish and Arab nationalisms perfectly corresponds with this theoretical framework.

Benedict Anderson argues that the amalgamation of capitalism with developments in printing led to the creation of nationhood. The novel and the newspaper inculcated a feeling of unity and uniformity in individuals living in a society, transforming them from a mass to an intellectually committed nation.52 The key explanatory variable, according to Ernest Gellner, in the eruption of nationalism is industrialization, which ‘engenders’ a ‘homogenous society’ through literacy and education. In this way, a high culture is imposed on the populace by the state machinery.53

Tambini criticized Gellner’s theory for being materialist and functionalist and, instead, offered a political culture framework. There are numerous cases of nationalism in which industrialization is absent, as in Irish or Eastern European nationalisms. Instead, nationalism should be looked upon as an institution for political mobilization.54

Contrary to Gellner’s assertion, nationalism in Cyprus as well as in Turkey emerged before the process of industrialization began. When we look at the Middle East region we need an analysis based on the work of Anthony Smith, with his focus on ethnicity, and of Karl Deutsch, who draws attention to the existence of a correlation between increased social communication and the development of nationalism. Deutsch argued that the intensity of communications among people increased with the introduction of libraries, archives, telephones, railroads, schools and television and that this, in turn, led to a feeling of cultural and social affinity. All these developments foster nationalism because people like to communicate with people from the same cultural background. Communication is essential for cooperation, and from communication with people from a similar culture a feeling of nationality is born.55

Liah Greenfeld also refuses to accept that because nationalism followed the advent of industrialization that it, nationalism, is ‘a functional requirement of industrialization’.56 Elie Kedourie believes that nationalism is related neither to capitalism nor to indus-trialization.57 He argues that the dynamics of nationalism in the non-Western world, especially in Asia and Africa, are different from those


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in the West and that, in fact, the phenomenon developed as ‘a reaction to European domination’ in these areas. Nationalism, which was imported from Europe, is alien to Asia and Africa. Convinced of the superiority of Europe, Asians and Africans used nationalism to resist and emulate the very civilization they both admired and resented.58 This analysis ignores the fact that Greek, Turkish, Iranian, Arab and Jewish nationalisms depend on ancient histories and national feelings. The development of nationalism in the non-Western world, especially among the peoples I have just mentioned, depends more on re-creating the ancient glories of the past than simply on reacting to European domination.

A different position is held by Bayly, who points out that in the late nineteenth century ‘vigorous’ nationalism erupted at about the same time in a number of different places around the globe. In other words, the rise of nationalism happened simultaneously in Europe, Asia, Africa and America rather than being first articulated in Europe and then spreading to the other continents. Nationalism grows in times of wars and conquests. Military service contributed to it through discipline and education and turned ‘the peasants and workers into nationalists’. Bayly also saw nationalism as the colonized intellectuals’ reaction to colonialism.59

I take issue with some of Benedict Anderson’s basic arguments. Although I concede that he is an important scholar of nationalism, I believe that to define nationalism as ‘imagined community’ touches on only part of the truth. Furthermore, the fact that members of a nation do not know all or most of their co-nationals personally60 seems an unconvincing and inadequate reason to label the phenomenon ‘imagined’. However, in that he draws attention to the evolution of identities from the small scale to the larger allegiances is a serious contribution to the study of nationalism. The emergence of print capitalism, whereby books and newspapers were published in the vernacular languages, played an important role in this evolution.61

Even Ernest Gellner, who believes that nationalists invent the nation, cannot deny the existence of a given culture upon which the nationalists build their edifice.62 This again signifies the importance of Anthony Smith and the role of ethnicity in nationalism.

Benedict Anderson criticizes Gellner for characterizing nationalism


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as ‘fabrication’ or based on ‘falsity’. Anderson argues that Gellner is so much focused on trying to prove the futility and artificiality of nationalism that he utilizes such concepts. Instead, Anderson argues, the terms ‘imagining’ or ‘creation’ should be used.63

There seems to be an element of wishful thinking on the part of some prominent scholars of nationalism, such as Gellner and Hobsbawm, that nationalism is very much a spent force to be supplanted by a different form of identity, be it humanity or class identity. As the nation-state declines so does nationalism, argues Hobsbawm.64 To my mind, their decline is neither imminent nor apparent.

It would be more appropriate to use the term constructed than invented or imagined because, in my judgement, the latter two words have a meaning of artificiality, whereas nationalism has a natural essence. In fact, nationalism gives meaning to pre-existing cultural entities and as an ideology (nationalism) motivates the people (nation).

Despite the arguments about the novelty of nationalism, one needs to admit the existence of some form of national consciousness among many peoples. For instance, such a feeling existed among Germans and French as early as the twelfth century. According to some accounts, some form of nationalism was already in existence among European people by the 1300s.65

Breuilly does not deny the existence of national consciousness but argues that it is a different concept from nationalism.66 So, in that vein, he disagrees with nationalists who propagate the idea that nations have existed since time immemorial.

Differentiating between patriotism as ‘a legitimate love of one’s own country’ and nationalism as putting ‘national interests over other countries’, which has aggressive inclinations, has been criticized by John Breuilly.67 The two concepts are too close, almost identical to make such intellectual distinctions.

The idea of a cultural nation (Kulturnation) gives a feeling of we-ness and the core of the nation: the national character argument implies that the ‘essence of a nation remained fixed’. More importantly, this notion helped legitimize in the eyes of the German publikum, the theory that an expansionist foreign policy was essential to achieve the unity of the German nation beyond the German state. German


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nationalist historians helped German foreign policy both during and after the First World War to revise the Versailles system imposed on Germany.68 Once again, we see the role of nationalism in foreign policy decisions.

The distinction between ethnic and civic nationalism might be useful as an intellectual tool, but as Yack argues, the cultural basis – namely ethnicity – is a requirement for civic nationalism to develop. Besides this requirement, the combination of consent and cultural legacy make the nation.69

It would, as Brubaker suggests, be significant to distinguish between three forms of nationalism. The first one is the ‘nationalizing’ nationalism of the newly-independent states. In this form of nationalism, states that have just gained their independence try to consolidate state power by inculcating the masses with nationalist ideology. ‘External national homelands’ pose challenges to the nationalism of the former kind of nationalism because a particular group of people perceive another state as their protector. Russians in Kazakhstan would perceive Russia to be their external national homeland from which they would demand protection of their political and cultural rights. Kazakhstan would be the nationalizing state that tried to inculcate a new form of nationalism based on state and ethnic identity. Finally, there is the nationalism of a national minority in a country whose culture is different from that of the majority. Brubaker gives the example of Hungarian Serbs as a national minority, Serbia as the external national homeland and Hungary as a nationalizing state.70 Similarly, we can talk about Turkish Cypriots as a national minority71 in Cyprus living in a nationalizing state and Turkey as their external national homeland. For Greek Cypriots, Greece is the external national homeland and Cyprus is their nationalizing state, in which they constitute around 78 per cent of the population.

For the Turks residing in Cyprus, Iraq, Syria, the Crimea, Greece, Bulgaria and Romania, Turkey was seen as an entity responsible for their well-being, an external national homeland in Brubaker’s parlance. Of course, Turkey has disappointed these minority Turks due to its lack of interest and power. Yet, interest in their affairs has erupted from time to time, which should be considered less as conjectural (being more than a reaction to events and due to deeper


31

factors) and more as a consequence of the Turkist element in the official state ideology as discussed in Chapter 2.

For the Turkic peoples of the USSR, Turkey was perceived more as a fraternal country than as an external national homeland, since they were living in ethno-territorial entities under the tutelage of the Soviets. After they got their independence, loyalty was extended to the newly-independent states. They did not perceive Turkey as their external national homeland because they had their own political history, about which they could be proud. Azeris looked at Shah Ismail, the sixteenth-century Turkic-speaking Shah of Iran, as their historical hero; Uzbeks looked at Tamerlane; and the Kyrgyz took pride in the Manas legend as a literary work similar to ancient Greek and Iranian texts. They did not necessarily define themselves as Turks, as opposed to the Turks residing in and around Turkey. The latter also were part of the Ottoman Empire, which created a common historical memory with the Turks of Turkey. These states of affairs were the main reasons for the closer association of former Ottoman Turks with Turkey, the weaker ties with the people of Turkestan, and the lack of robust pan-Turkism prevalent among Turkic peoples.

Louis Snyder calls the pan-movements macro-nationalisms, which he defines as a form of nationalism that envisions the inclusion of all the members of a nation in an ‘enlarged nation-state’. Elements of nationhood can include race, religion and language. Discussing the pan-Slavism and pan-Germanism of the nineteenth century, Snyder argues that the nation-state has taken precedence over macro-nationalism. However, despite the failure of pan-nationalisms, pan-Europeanism might be the wave of the future as a new form of macro-nationalism.72 It should be recognized that the efforts to unite all Arabs, Turks, or Slavs are not feasible projects: having said that, however, close cooperation between ethnic kin is a logical foreign policy goal.73 In other words, uniting all Arab or Turkish people under a single state might be an unrealistic goal, but cooperation among Arab states or among Turkic states remains a possibility. This cooperation can exist on national causes significant for all Arabs – say the Palestine cause or the existence of a common enemy or economic interests. For the Turkic peoples there is no single national cause embraced by all of them. Thus, they can focus on economic and cultural relations, which


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can be important areas of collaboration. Admittedly, there are rivals to nationalism such as cosmopolitanism

or religious-based identities. Yet, as Samuel Huntington argues, nationalism still offers the best course of action even for a multi-ethnic society like America for domestic cohesion and a sound foreign policy. Instead of imperialism, which would alter the world in its own image, or cosmopolitanism, which would make America like the world, Huntington calls for American nationalism to preserve American values, which include Anglo-Saxon Protestant values.74

Conclusion In this chapter, I have tried to introduce the main arguments in the field of political science in general and international relations in particular as they are related to my book as a theoretical framework for my case studies. The usefulness of constructivism, realism and nationalism as intellectual tools will be more manifest in the empirical chapters as these concepts offer the conceptual base from which meaning can be given to empirical facts. Consequently, I shall utilize these concepts to analyse Turkish foreign policy.

We need to recognize that even if material considerations were the ultimate reasons for undertaking certain foreign policy initiatives, leaders refer to identity to justify their policies.75

Foreign policy analysis is essential in explicating specific cases of foreign policy behaviour by focusing on bureaucracies and the emotions and ideologies that shape the decision makers’ motivations. ‘Country or regional expertise’ is essential when undertaking such a study. This form of analysis is a middle-range theory lying somewhere between a grand theory in the Waltzian sense and the complex reality ‘out there’. Therefore, it can be characterized as ‘theoretical middle ground between parsimony and complexity’. Furthermore, foreign policy analysis bridges the subfields of political science: international relations theory and comparative politics as well, offers a link between the academic community and the world of practitioners.76 I shall engage in Turkish foreign policy analysis in Chapter 3 and offer a model of Turkish foreign policy.

That internal variables, such as bureaucratic fighting between the military and the Russian foreign ministry, account for Russian foreign


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policy in various cases, such as Moldova, the Balkans and NATO expansion, has been demonstrated by the Russian military’s often independent decisions.77 Similarly, in the Turkish case, the rival ideologies of the coalition governments, the role the military and foreign ministry played in the 1974 Turkish intervention in Cyprus and the acceptance of the 1999 EU candidacy are cases in point. In the latter case especially, there was more divergence than in the Cyprus issue, in which the military and foreign ministry, as well as the ruling parties, the social democrat Republican People’s Party (RPP) and the Islamist National Salvation Party (NSP), agreed on the operation in Cyprus. On the other hand, in the 1999 EU candidacy there were numerous salient issues that Turkey needed to accept, such as the abolition of the death penalty and acceptance of the International Court of Justice to resolve outstanding border issues. One of the ruling parties, the Nationalist Action Party, was against most of these ‘concessions’, whereas the other two members of the coalition government, the Democratic Left Party and the Motherland Party, were to a large extent in favour of accepting the EU’s offer. Nonetheless, it should be iterated that there were individuals in those parties, such as the minister of state responsible for Cyprus affairs, Professor Şükrü Gürel from the Democratic Left, who advocated rejecting this offer.78

These two cases from Russia and Turkey demonstrate that it bears fruit to look into the black box of rational unitary actors, which the realist school of thought in international relations theory discourages as irrelevant. My point would be that this is useful to explicate not only specific foreign policy decisions but also patterns of international relations, as the correlation of forces in the international system may be dependent on domestic variables as well. In other words, seeds of success or failure for major or small states may be found in their internal strengths or weaknesses.

Nationalism will remain a source of legitimization and loyalty for a long time to come. It offers dignity to the masses and the elite alike and its ‘transcendence’ is only possible if there are other sources offering dignity to humanity.79 In the final analysis, the politicians as well as scholars neglect this phenomenon at their own peril.

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2 The Three Paths of Turkish Nationalism and Kemalist

State Identity

In this chapter I deal with nationalism as a key variable in the expli-cation of foreign policy. I have categorized Turkish nationalism into three separate groups, namely official nationalism as manifested in Kemalism, ethnic nationalism and conservative nationalism.

By analysing key domestic variables, nationalism and state identity, all of which have explanatory powers with respect to foreign policy, I offer a framework of analysis for the divergent paths of the various forms of nationalism. Furthermore, by explicitly linking Kemalist state identity with nationalism, I explain certain political decisions that seem inexplicable at first glance. In the light of this analysis, it should become possible to make certain foreign policy predictions; for instance, Turkey could legitimately intervene in Iraq to save the Turkmen from a calamity if and only if there was a national consensus internally and an international environment conducive to Turkish intervention. Turkey has already become more involved in their affairs, even though such an intervention is unlikely at the moment because of the American presence in Iraq. Such an eventuality cannot, however, be ruled out if Turkey felt that such an action did not put its own security at risk and that the Turkmen faced massacres.

This chapter covers the theme of Turkish nationalism and it starts with the official Kemalist nationalism that developed in republican Turkey under Mustafa Kemal Atatürk (1881–1938) between 1923 and 1938. In discussing ethnic nationalism, as developed by Hüseyin Nihal Atsız (1905–75), and conservative nationalism, the best example of which is the Turkish-Islamic synthesis devised by a nationalist society,

THE THREE PATHS OF TURKISH NATIONALISM

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the Intellectuals’ Hearth (Aydınlar Ocağı), I shall compare and contrast official Turkish nationalism, which the Kemalists call Atatürk nationalism, with its various alternatives. The evolution of Turkish nationalism towards a more religiously-oriented world view will become manifest in the discussion about the Turkish-Islamic synthesis, which became the ideology of a significant number of people, organizations and political parties in the 1970s and 1980s. Three typologies of Turkish nationalism – territorial-civic, ethnic and conservative – will be useful in analysing the birth, development and evolution of Turkish nationalism. It will become evident from the discussion below that ethnic, civic and cultural elements play a role both in official and ethnic nationalism and that the divergence between the two is not as great as the Kemalists had assumed. Furthermore, culture and religion seem to be more important than ethnicity in the definition of Turkish nationalism in all types of nationalism except the ethnic type. These typologies are ideal types,1 which are used as intellectual concepts to better comprehend the concept of nationalism.

The Republican People’s Party along with most members of the civilian and military bureaucracy adopted Kemalist nationalism. Ethnic nationalism was not institutionalized in any state organization or political party but remained the ideology of a small number of intellectuals within the Nationalist Action Party, the prevalent ideology of which was the conservative nationalism developed by the Intellectuals’ Hearth and other conservative nationalists. It is not easy to classify what social forces lie behind the three forms of nationalism, but we can argue that Kemalists were mostly city dwellers who came from the more modernized educated classes. The conservative nationalists, on the other hand, hailed from the rural areas, especially from central-eastern Turkey. Although there are insufficient data about ethnic nationalists to ascertain their social backgrounds, their importance emanates from their ideas as a rival form of nationalism to the official nationalism and their ideology based on ethnicity. They have a parsimonious ideology without the eclecticism of Kemalism with its ethnic and territorial factors. In that sense, ethnic nationalism can be compared with its rivals and hence warrants study because of the divergent foreign policy outcomes that would follow from such a form of nationalism.


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Turkish nationalism began to emerge in the late nineteenth century, but even into the early 1920s, ordinary people still defined themselves as Ottoman or Muslim2 rather than Turkish. When Mustafa Kemal Atatürk established the Republic of Turkey in 1923 he defined the state as Turkish and, through the introduction of mass education, an attempt was made to encourage Turks to adopt a secular Turkish identity. In terms of the ideological and political history of the Turkish people, this was a revolutionary break with the past. The Kemalists adjusted their foreign policy to reflect this new and changing national identity, which meant showing concern for the affairs of external Turks, albeit in a limited manner. In other words, there was a disparity between the boundaries of the national pact and those of the republic, which explains the state’s continued interest in Turks living in the borderlands of Turkey.

The relevance of the chapter on foreign policy behaviour will become clearer in the chapters that follow, but it should be pointed out from the outset that the three types of nationalism offer diverging paths towards domestic politics and foreign policy. Turkey with an ethnic nationalist state identity would have been discriminatory towards its ethnically non-Turkish citizens and would have followed an irredentist and expansionist foreign policy culminating in territorial demands from neighbouring states. Such a state identity would have led to a revisionist foreign policy rather than a state that was concerned with preserving the status quo.

The foreign policy establishment usually interpreted Kemalist state identity and the form of nationalism it envisaged as inward-looking and showing little interest in the neighbouring areas in which Turks resided. Adventurism, in particular, was specifically condemned as endangering state security. Hence, the Kemalist elite adopted a very cautious foreign policy approach. In fact, people who campaigned for the liberation of Turks living outside the boundaries of the republic were arrested during a series of incidents in 1944. However, these events occurred after the death of Atatürk in 1938 during the extremely cautious presidency of İsmet Inönü.

Finally, conservative nationalism emerged when, in the 1960s, the Kemalist elite began to lay stress on the secular and Westernized elements of Kemalism at the expense of the ideology’s more


37

nationalistic ideas. At this point a more rural and conservative cadre in the Nationalist Action Party, in the Justice Party and later in the Motherland Party, took on the responsibility of raising the banner of nationalism. Furthermore, in 1966, when Bülent Ecevit emerged as the secretary general of the Republican People’s Party, which Mustafa Kemal Atatürk had established,3 the party moved to the left and towards social democracy. The Kemalists no longer talked as much as they had done before about nationalism, but instead focused on the country’s social and economic problems. Interestingly, it was the Kemalist elite, transformed into social democrats, who became the ardent advocates of the Cyprus issue after the 1974 operation, whereas right-wing nationalists were more interested in liberating the Soviet Turks. This is particularly curious given that the leader of the Nationalist Action Party, Alparslan Türkeş, was a Turkish Cypriot born in Nicosia. In other words, even though he was a Cypriot, his concern was for the security of Turkey over and above the interests of his own community.

In the light of the discussion above, it will be evident that variations in nationalism are bound to lead to separate state identities with diverging foreign policies. Therefore, instead of arguing that nationalism is an overarching variable, the kind of nationalism that is at work is the more relevant endeavour, as it will have explanatory powers in the nexus between nationalism, state identity and foreign policy.

A Theoretical Introduction to the Typologies of Nationalism One of the most influential scholars of nationalism, Anthony Smith, draws a distinction between ethnies and nationalities; he defines the former as ‘cultural entities’ with centuries of existence, and the latter as new entities in their ‘mass, legal, public and territorial form’.4

Smith offers two models of nationalism. The Western or civic model deals with a group of people whose ideology and culture resides within a piece of territory constituting a political-legal entity. Belonging to a nation is a voluntary decision on the part of the individuals and it is the citizenship that determines the nationality. The non-Western or ethnic model of the nation, on the other hand, places utmost emphasis on common ancestry and blood, so to speak. Generally speaking, in


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eastern Europe and the Middle East, ethnic nationalism has been the more prevalent form of the phenomenon. Smith, however, makes it evident that ethnic and civic-territorial factors usually go hand in hand in both Western and non-Western types of nationalism.5

In the ethnic form of nationalism, concrete variables such as ethnicity, language and religion are emphasized; civic nationalism, on the other hand, employs subjective elements. For instance, citizens declare themselves as belonging to a nation. Both American and French nationalisms have ethnic elements, despite the fact that they are considered as civic nationalisms,6 allowing cultural assimilation and ethnic integration.

As Smith argues, without the existence of a strong ethnic core, it would be very difficult if not impossible to build nations.7 As mentioned above, even in purely civic nations, there are hegemonic ethnic cores that are difficult to transcend.

Conservative nationalism as a concept, on the other hand, is my categorization of a form of nationalism in which nation and religion are seen as constituting a single unit. The impact of conservative nationalism in Turkey increased throughout the 1950s as a con-sequence of the advent of democracy, which contributed to the rise of Islamic politics as well.

Ethnic nationalism, never gained hegemonic status in modern Turkey and was confined to a small group of individuals such as Hüseyin Nihal Atsız, Reha Oğuz Türkkan and a number of other thinkers. They advocated pan-Turkism and racism, the latter concept putting them at odds with earlier nationalists Yusuf Akçura and Ziya Gökalp, as well as later nationalists Erol Güngör or İbrahim Kafesoğlu.

In this study of official Turkish nationalism, I focus on the writings of Atatürk and on secondary sources that deal with the early republican era. On ethnic and conservative nationalism, I consult the books of Atsız and İbrahim Kafesoğlu in a fairly brief manner. Consequently, Kemalist nationalism will occupy the bulk of this chapter because it is the most relevant form of nationalism as far as Turkish foreign policy is concerned.

Official nationalism and ethnic nationalism are successors of the Turkish nationalism of the late nineteenth and early twentieth cen-


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turies. Kemalist nationalism focused on the consolidation of the Turkish nation-state, whereas ethnic nationalism entailed unification of all the Turks of the world. However, during the Kemalist era there was a definite move towards encouraging scholarly studies on Central Asia because it was the original fatherland of all Turks as well as on evoking references to historical symbols that influenced the political environment, including the ethnic nationalists.8 Of these symbols, the grey wolf was clearly the most important.

Kemalism has been prevalent among both civilian and military branches of the bureaucracy. The Republican People’s Party, even after it underwent its shift towards social democracy, and the Democratic Left Party were supporters of Kemalism. Centre right parties, namely the Democratic Party, the Justice Party and later the True Path Party, all followed the official form of nationalism despite their greater openness to conservative nationalism in varying degrees. In the Motherland Party, the conservative nationalists composed of former National Action Party (NAP) and National Salvation Party (NSP) members, advocated conservative nationalism because they were associated with the Intellectuals’ Hearth as well. However, it should be added that there were also liberal individuals in the Motherland Party.

Ethnic nationalism was not even strong in the NAP, mainly because the followers of this strand of nationalism, such as Atsız, were expelled from the party. However, it is possible that the ethnic form of nationalism might gain momentum as a reaction to the emergence of ethnic politics among Kurds. Kemalist nationalism carries most weight in Turkey because it is the official ideology of the country and it shaped Turkish political behaviour throughout the twentieth century. The reason why I have undertaken such a detailed study of Kemalism, especially its nationalist components, is because I think that it provides a good insight into the relationship between Turkish foreign policy and Kemalist ideology.

Official Kemalist Nationalism and Kemalist State Identity After, the establishment of modern Turkey, Atatürk’s ideas, labelled Kemalism or Atatürkism, became the official ideology of Turkey. Republicanism, nationalism, secularism, étatism, populism and


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reformism are known as the six arrows constituting the core principles of Kemalism.

At the third Republican People’s Party congress held between 10 and 18 May 1931, the six arrows were adopted as the principles of the party. The secretary general of the RPP, Recep Peker, was strongly committed to bringing about the unification of the party with the state. Eventually, Kemalism became the overarching ideology of the state and the ruling cadres came to frown on any inclination that transgressed the boundaries of this ideology.

It only became possible to implement Atatürk’s wide-ranging reforms after he had proved his credentials in the Turkish War of Liberation, alternatively known as the Independence War in Turkish historiography. I would argue that without the credentials of a national hero, which Mustafa Kemal gained through his victory in this war, he could not have embarked on such radical reforms, which are described as a revolution among Kemalists.

The War of Independence started on 15 May 1919, four days after the occupation of İzmir by Greeks and ended when Ataturk’s national forces (Kuvayı Milliye) evicted them from Anatolia on 17 September 1922. Between 1920 and 1921, the Turkish army was victorious over the Armenian and Georgian forces, hence the eastern front was closed. As the Red Army entered Tbilisi, Turkey returned Batumi to Russia but retained Kars, Ardahan and Artvin as a result of the Turkish–Russian treaty signed in Moscow on 21 March 1921, establishing the eastern border of Turkey. These developments enabled Turkey to move its troops to the Western front,9 that is against the Greek occupation forces in Anatolia.

Meanwhile, on the southern front, the French army was in occupation of the territory from Mersin to Urfa. Some 3000 local Armenian militias also cooperated with the French forces. There were clashes between these forces and with the Turkish irregulars of national forces (Kuvayı Milliye). After a number of clashes between 1920 and 1921 in Maraş, Adana, Urfa and Antep, under the Ankara agreement of 20 October 1921 the French decided to withdraw from Anatolia. Hence, it became the first Western government to recognize the new Turkish republic, thus closing the southern front as well. Throughout this time, nationalists and Arab nationalists in Syria joined


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forces against their common enemy, France. The retention of Hatay by France was the second concession regarding the National Pact after the abandonment of Batumi. One of the few concessions Turkey got from France was that Turkish civil servants were to be preferred by the colonial administration where the Turks constituted the majority, in places such as Iskenderun (Alexandretta) and Antakya (Antioch).10

When Greece started to invade Anatolia, nationalist feelings were high in Greece where comparisons were being made between Constantine, the Byzantine emperor who lost Istanbul to the Turks in 1453, and Constantine, the king of Greece, who was expected to redeem Istanbul in 1919. So the crux of the war was fought between Greeks and Turks in a number of battles: the first Inönü battle of 9–10 January 1921 ended in a stalemate, yet it was the first time the Greek assault was broken.11 The Greeks occupied a large part of western Turkey, including the Aegean port city of İzmir and were moving towards Ankara, the new centre of national forces. It was İsmet Inönü, the future president of Turkey, who showed himself as a capable military leader in the first and second Inönü battles.12

In March 1921, the second Inönü battle started. There were bloody clashes between the two armies and by 1 April the Greek army had started to withdraw from the city of Afyon and move towards Bursa. Another important blow to Greece was the Sakarya battle in August 1921, which routed the Greek army and culminated in the Greek withdrawal from central Anatolia, constituting a major threat to Ankara. Atatürk argued that the Turkish soldier fought with a new ideal in his head against the religious fanaticism of the Greek king Constantine. He further pointed out that the new Turkish administration in Ankara was peaceful but would continue to fight and destroy the enemy until there were no more foreign troops left on Turkish soil.13

The grand assault (Büyük Taarruz) had to wait until 26 August 1922 because the Turkish side had to recuperate from the long years of fighting to regain its strength. Victory was swift at the last stage of the war; Turkish forces entered İzmir on 9 September 1922 and, in Anatolia, the Turkish troops captured General Trikopis, the commander of the Greek army.14 This was the end of what the Greeks would later call the Asia Minor (that is Anatolia) disaster.


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There were expressions of anti-Westernism during the war of national liberation. In a speech at the Turkish Grand National Assembly (TGNA), an MP with socialist leanings, Muhittin Baha, accused the Europeans of supporting the Greeks and said that they were nothing but a ‘shameless and decadent group of people’. On 18 September 1920 the parliament declared that ‘the people of Turkey are under the oppression of capitalism and imperialism’ and that the Turkish parliament is resolute in its determination to save the people from that threat.15 Bearing in mind that at that time Turkey was receiving substantial material support from the Soviet Union, it could well have turned towards the socialist state that was also anti-imperialist and could have been part of the anti-Western bloc that emerged after the Second World War. However, Turkey did not adopt such a policy and aimed to create a Turkish nation-state based on a Western model.

After the defeat of Greek forces and the victory over other occupiers in Turkey, including the British, French and Italians, the young country initiated widespread reforms. These were intended to create a rupture with the Ottoman Islamic past. The office of the sultan was abolished in 1922, the republic was established in 1923 and the caliphate was abolished in 1924. Furthermore, the office of the Shaykh ul-Islam (the highest religious authority after the caliph sultan) was abrogated, as were the religious (şeriat) courts.16

At the same time, the 1924 constitution stipulated that the religion of the state was Islam. This state of affairs was not commensurate with the radical reforms, so in 1928 that clause was deleted and, in 1937, one year before Atatürk’s death, the principle of secularism was inserted into the constitution.17

Earlier, there were numerous other Western-style policies, such as the requirement stipulated in 1925 that men wear hats and Western clothing, whereas there was no specific law against veiling, even though such outfits were discouraged. A new civil law came into effect in 1926, which rendered polygamy illegal and stipulated that all marriages were to be civil.18

Sunday became the official day of rest rather than the Muslim Sabbath Friday and, in 1926, the ‘international’ calendar was adopted. The call to prayer (ezan) was changed from Arabic to Turkish in 1932.


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Religious instruction at primary and secondary schools was abolished. A faculty of divinity was created at Istanbul University, later renamed the Oriental Institute, which was abolished altogether in 1934. In this way the power of religion was weakened and institutionalized religion was disestablished. A directorate of religious affairs was created to control religion and Article 163 of the criminal code outlawed the use of religious propaganda in political expressions and campaigns. Santa Sophia Mosque, the former Byzantine church, was turned into a museum19 and remains so until this day.

Meanwhile, at the 1926 Baku Turcological Congress, the Soviet Turks decided to adopt the Latin alphabet. Turkey followed suit and decided to accept the Latin alphabet in 1928. However, the Soviet Turks, under the orders of the Kremlin, had to switch to Cyrillic letters in 1938.20 Therefore, the unity of culture among the Turks of the world was broken. Before the twentieth century, the Arabic script was the common alphabet among Turks. With these developments, Turks used at least three alphabets – Latin, Cyrillic and Arabic (in Iraq and East Turkestan) hence leading to a great deal of confusion among them.

The upholders of a Kemalist state identity adopted a cautious and prudent foreign and domestic policy. Their major concern was about how to save and later on to preserve the well-being and security of the state and take state interests into account. They were very much against what was called adventurism or Enver Pashaism in their foreign relations. The new policy was to take a Turkey-first approach by focusing on the problems of the country, which was poor and exhausted after years of war. The element of Turkishness was always there, in fact much stronger than in the later governments of İsmet Inönü and Adnan Menderes after the death of Atatürk. Yet, it was also inward looking and non-expansionist. The Turkish political elite took Atatürk’s motto ‘peace at home, peace in the world’ very seriously.

In its essence the Kemalist state was democratic, or at least strove to establish a democratic state. İsmet Inönü, Turkey’s second president, argued on the eve of the shift towards democratization in 1945 that, throughout the republican era under Atatürk and himself, all political decisions had been taken within the legal framework of the Turkish Grand National Assembly, whose authority was


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supreme. A dictatorship was not established; in fact, the idea of a dictatorship has never been accepted and the republican essence has always been preserved.21

The National Pact (Misak-ı Milli) is of utmost importance to the territorial delineation of the new state. The last Ottoman parliament approved the pact on 28 January 1920, basing its decisions on the Erzurum congress held on 23 July 1919 and the Sivas congress held on 4 September 1919 by nationalist forces under the leadership of Mustafa Kemal in Anatolia. It declared all the territory under Ottoman administration during the signing of the Mudros ceasefire to be an indivisible whole. The National Pact (Misak-ı Milli) covered all territories the Ottoman Empire controlled when the Mudros ceasefire was signed on 30 October 1918 at the end of the First World War.

At the time, Mosul was under Turkish control; in fact, the British captured the city 16 days after the signing of the treaty. The pact stated that areas inhabited by Ottoman Muslims were to be considered an indivisible whole. There was to be a referendum for the Arab territories and for Western Thrace to determine whether the people in those two areas wanted to be part of Turkey. In a speech he made on 24 April 1920, Mustafa Kemal pointed out that the National Pact included the three provinces (elvivei selase) of Kars, Ardahan and Batum in the east; Edirne in the west; İskenderun (Alexandretta) and Aleppo in the south, as well as the former province of Mosul, which included the cities of Mosul, Suleymaniye and Kirkuk. However, he later pointed out that the National Pact was not set in stone and every possible piece of territory that could be liberated would be redeemed.22

Turkey, Britain and France signed the Treaty of Lausanne recognizing Turkish sovereignty throughout Turkey on 24 July 1923. As a defeated power in the First World War, Turkey was the only country to regain its territories from the victorious allies. In fact, to a large extent and with only a few exceptions, the Treaty of Lausanne was what brought the National Pact into effect.23

In the light of the above narrative, it would be correct to label Kemalist nationalism as territorial nationalism, which purported to forget the Ottoman past and remember the pre-Ottoman and pre-Islamic Turkish past. Purification of the Turkish language from Arabic and Persian words as well as replacing the Arabic script with the Latin


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alphabet were logical parts of the policy of forgetting and remembering24 the pre-Ottoman Turkish past.

Kemalist nationalists adopted a revisionist policy towards the Versailles system, but after the founding of Turkey, they promoted the idea of preserving the status quo. Kemalism contained elements of anti-imperialism, but almost no irredentism, and its proponents promoted a form of nationalism based on culture and citizenship. Although the ruling party’s programme contained expressions of good wishes towards and affection for external Turks, it specifically rejected any political interest in their fate.25 This is not to say that Atatürk had no interest in ‘captive Turks’, for he made clear his desire for their liberation from Soviet rule. In fact, Turkey had the responsibility to be ready for such an eventuality. Atatürk also said that scholarly studies on the history and language of ancient and modern Turks were undertaken with this consideration in mind.26

To create a modern Turk, a number of ideas were developed, such as the Turkish history thesis and the Sun Language Theory. At the 1932 Turkish Historical Congress and the 1936 Language Congress, the participants tried to demonstrate that Turks have created almost all the glistening civilizations of the world, including the ancient Egyptian, Hittite and Sumerian ones. Furthermore, as Turkish forms the root of all languages, all other languages are believed to derive from it. All these studies were utilized to strengthen the confidence of the Turkish people in the value of their own national culture and to consolidate a common identity among the people of the country.27

It should not be forgotten that there were also numerous serious academic works, but most of the propositions of the Turkish historical thesis cannot be supported by scholarly research. In modern Turkey, history was perceived as a functional tool in the nation-building efforts of the state machinery.

More importantly, Atatürk declared on numerous occasions that he was a Turkish nationalist and he promoted the Turkification of all aspects of life. In his speeches, he said ‘happy is the person who says I am a Turk’, ‘the power you need exists in the noble blood running in your veins’, ‘one Turk is the equivalent to the entire world’ and also expressed the beauty of the Turkish race.28 To present these ideas merely as functional statements to consolidate national cohesion


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would be only one part of the truth, for there is no reason to dispute that he genuinely believed in these declarations. Furthermore, it could be said that Atatürk expressed these ideas as part of his expectations of the Turks. In other words, he wanted the Turks to be strong, intelligent and courageous.

Even though Atatürk promoted nationalism at home, he was against pan-Turkism and pan-Islamism as can be observed in his address to the second Republican People’s Party congress, held in Ankara between 15 and 20 October 1927. These ideologies were bound to fail; consequently, ‘a national policy within the borders of the Turkish republic’ was the logical policy to follow.29

Besides Atatürk’s numerous statements, Prime Minister İsmet İnönü also uttered nationalist ideas; he wanted all those desiring to serve the country ‘to be Turks and Turkists’ and expressed the need for all non-Turks living in the country to become assimilated.30

Kemalist nationalism legally accorded equal citizenship to all people living in Turkey. The 1924 constitution stipulated that: ‘The people of Turkey without any distinction as to religion or race are considered as Turks via citizenship.’ Such a formulation makes it seem as if Kemalism entailed a civic-territorial form of nationalism. On the other hand, there were also policies aiming to assimilate the non-Turks in the country, examples being ‘Citizen Speak Turkish’ campaigns and the requirement to be Turkish for employment in the civil service.31 Therefore, Kemalist nationalism contained ethnic as well as civic elements. It should be clarified, however, that discrimination was not implemented on non-Turkish Muslims such as Albanians, Circassians and Kurds but against non-Muslims in cases of tax collection and political representation.

To qualify as Turks, individuals had to embrace Kemalism, especially secularism and nationalism. Other ethnic or religious identities had to be jettisoned on entering the public sphere. Therefore, becoming a Turk was a voluntary process. Despite talk about the Turkish race throughout the 1930s, I am unaware of any ethnic discrimination towards, say Albanians, Circassians or Kurds, provided they followed the new state ideology. In fact, there were individuals who served in the bureaucracy or as politicians who belonged to the above-mentioned ethnic groups.


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Kemalism was upheld for decades following Atatürk’s death and, when İsmet Inönü imposed himself on the Turkish people as their national chief, there was never any suggestion that he might try to replace the Kemalist ideology. One needs to add, however, that there was less emphasis on nationalism compared with the Atatürk era. The Democratic Party (DP) passed a law to protect the memory of Atatürk and this persisted throughout the 1950s. The authorities reintroduced portraits of Atatürk on the Turkish lira, which photographs of Inönü had replaced during his presidency between 1938 and 1950.

A left-wing version of Kemalism was articulated throughout the 1960s and the 1970s and a more conservative strand was devised by the military regime in the 1980s. Finally, in the 1990s, a liberal version was conceptualized that would be supportive of Turkey’s EU membership. In sum, Kemalism has been utilized to legitimize political actions.

A number of left-wing Kemalist writers, including Toktamış Ateş and Ahmet Taner Kışlalı, characterized Kemalist nationalism as territorial, modern, progressive and peaceful irrespective of ethnic considerations. However, there was an ethnic element in official nationalism that has been quiscent.32 For many scholars, the nationalist component was invisible because, since the time of İsmet Inönü, the RPP has de-emphasized it. As a reaction to the JDP government, since 2002 nationalism has become more overt against the parochialism of the JDP, among the RPP members, combined with their desire to protect secularism.

Secularism was an important component of Kemalism and, concomitantly, religion was confined to the mosques and consciences of individuals. Afet İnan and other scholars characterized Islam as having inhibited Turkish national identity and scientific progress.33 The Kemalist regime’s main objective was to weaken the links with the Islamic past and to create a modern Turkish nation, but there was no policy to annihilate religion totally, as was the case in communist regimes. However, the role for Islam in political and social affairs was to be highly restricted.

As a conclusion, it would be correct to say that nationalism was an important component of the official ideology of the state, in other words Kemalism. Domestically, there was a major endeavour to


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change the identity affiliations of the Turks from their Ottoman and Islamic pasts and to initiate a novel Turkish identity. The point that has been missing from analyses of Kemalism in general and Kemalist nationalism in particular is that the ideology contained elements that would justify an activist foreign policy. Characterizing the state as Turkish and promoting a nationalist world view to the citizenry allowed interest in the affairs of external Turks, albeit in a guarded manner.

Ethnic Nationalism A small number of intellectuals and activists advocated ethnic nationalism, which entailed racism and pan-Turkism. It never became an influential form of nationalism because it was highly discriminatory towards people whom it characterized as non-Turks, including Kurds, Albanians and Georgians. However, modern Turkey was established together with all these ethnic groups and they were represented in all the echelons of power, be it in the political parties or the military. Another disadvantage of ethnic nationalism was that it was perceived as un-Islamic because this kind of nationalism talked very little about Islam and conservative values.

The reason I am discussing ethnic nationalism is because it presents a parsimonious strand of nationalism and because I wish to show how it differs from Kemalist nationalism. While the latter tends towards an active form of foreign policy, ethnic nationalism propagates irredentism, territorial expansion and the unification of all Turks into a single state. The most important ethnic nationalists were Hüseyin Nihal Atsız, Nejdet Sançar and Reha Oğuz Türkkan. I shall briefly discuss Atsız and Sançar, particularly since Atsız enjoyed some form of a comeback in the 1990s as a reaction to Kurdish separatism and terrorism. There is a likelihood that this form of nationalism might gain followers as a consequence of the identity crisis in Turkey and dissociation of certain segments of the country from the mainstream, especially the Kurds and Islamists.

Hüseyin Nihal Atsız (1905–75) identified racism and pan-Turkism as the two main pillars of Turkish nationalism. This was a rare combination because most nationalists after the 1950s shied away from pan-Turkism. Racism, on the other hand, was never popular


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among nationalists, be it in the ideas of Ziya Gökalp or in the ideas of later nationalists such as Hamdullah Suphi Tanrıöver. Atsız reacted to this state of affairs, castigating his opponents for failing to advocate racism. His ideas, while not exactly anti-Islamic, came close to that because he enumerated Islam, in addition to communism and fascism, among the anti-national ideologies.34

It should be added that Atsız’s Weltanschauung and shamanistic motifs were abhorrent in an Islamic setting. The reason for his expulsion from the Nationalist Action Party (MHP) was, in fact, that he constantly criticized the party for being too much under the influence of Islam. The leader of the Nationalist Action Party, Alparslan Türkeş must have realized that on a purely ethnic platform the party had no chance of expanding in the conservative hinterlands of central and eastern Anatolia.

Nejdet Sançar, the brother of Atsız, also stressed the importance of race in outlining Turkish national identity. While he was more tolerant of religion than Atsız – Sançar referred to Islam as ‘the national religion of Turks’ – he shared Atsız’s conviction that the concepts of pan-Turkism and racism comprised the two central components of Turkism.35 Two other important pan-Turkists, Rıza Nur and Reha Oğuz Türkkan, also lay emphasis on the significance of race over cultural components in the composition of a nation.36

Ethnic nationalists were adamant about including ethnicity in their definition of the nation. They wanted ethnic Turks to be the rulers of the country and rejected the existence of non-Turks in the upper or lower echelons of power. In their judgement, non-Turks always betrayed the motherland and cooperated with the enemies of Turkey. Their foreign policy, so to speak, was the unification under a single banner of all Turks living in the world. Their geographic interest usually extended from the Turkish areas of Greece, namely Western Thrace, all the way round to the Russian and Chinese Turkestans. Many statesmen and intellectuals perceived such a conception as dangerous to Turkish national interests. For the common people as well, the racism component especially did not seem particularly appealing. For all these reasons ethnic nationalism remained a weak force in Turkish politics.


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Conservative Nationalism between Islam and Turkishness Conservative nationalism emerged as a rival to both Kemalist nationalism and ethnic nationalism, for it was critical of the secularism and lack of Islamic content in their ideas. This form of nationalism had other names, including the Turkish-Islamic synthesis and the Turkish Islamic ideal. While I am unable to discuss in detail all the differences within conservative nationalism, I shall analyse the ideas of its early propagator İbrahim Kafesoğlu, who coined the term the Turkish-Islamic synthesis. With other conservative intellectuals, including Said Bilgiç, Süleyman Yalçın, Salih Tuğ, Muharrem Ergin, Nevzat Yalçıntaş, Kemal Ilıcak and Ahmed Kabaklı, they were active in the Intellectuals’ Hearth (Aydınlar Ocağı),37 which played a key role in the establishment of the National Front governments (1975–78)38 in opposition to the social democratic RPP. After the 1980 military coup and during the Özal premiership (1983–89), the Intellectuals’ Hearth provided legitimation for both the military and civilian regimes. In the ruling Motherland Party and to some extent in the True Path Party there were also sympathizers of the Intellectuals’ Hearth.

Professor İbrahim Kafesoğlu, who devised the synthesis ideology and who wrote a book entitled the Turkish-Islamic Synthesis, had undertaken a study of Turkish history from its early beginnings in the pre-Islamic era. He drew attention to the existence of similarities between the shamanistic beliefs of the Turks and Islam, arguing that monotheism had been practised among the ancient Turks. Furthermore, the martial qualities of the Turks and their aim to spread Turkish law to all corners of the world, was reminiscent of the concept of jihad in Islam.39

The supporters of conservative nationalism saw Islam as the central element of Turkish national identity. Of course, past scholars and sufis such as Yunus Emre, Hacı Bektaş, Hoca Ahmet Yesevi and Mevlana Celalettin Rumi were also mentioned as having consolidated national cohesion.40

Most Turks, particularly advocates of the Turkish-Islamic synthesis (or conservative nationalism) and increasingly after the publication of Kafesoğlu’s book, emphasized the idea that Turkishness and Islam could not be separated. They constituted an indivisible whole manifested in the


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slogan of the idealists (the followers of the Nationalist Action Party) – ‘Islam is our soul, Turkishness is our body’ – hence emphasizing a merging of the Islamic faith and Turkish identity. Turks were therefore presented as the defenders of the faith to spread Islam and justice to the world.

The Nationalist Action Party (MHP) presented itself as both a nationalist and an ideological party. It embraced conservative nationalism and emphasized its adherence to Turkish nationalism and the Turkish Islamic ideal. Alparslan Türkeş, the leader of the idealist movement (ülkücü hareket), introduced his ideas in the book National Doctrine Nine Lights in which he dealt with nationalism, Islam and secularism. The formulation of his ideas was hidden in the following slogan: the Turkish people were to be ‘as Muslim as Mount Hira and as Turkish as the Tanrı Mountains’.41 Needless to say, this statement contains references to both pre-Islamic and Islamic memories of the Turkish nation, for Muslims believe that it was on Mount Hira in Arabia that the prophet Muhammad received God’s revelations and the Tanri Mountains (or Celestial Mountains) of course had religious connotations for pagan Turks.

In the final analysis, the Nationalist Action Party placed increasing importance on its Islamic identity and, as a result, the ethnic nationalists within the party, such as Atsız, were purged. It should be mentioned, however, that for many decades the party was confined to central and eastern Anatolia, where it played the Sunni conservative card against the leftists and more liberal people living in the urban areas. It was only in 1999 that the Nationalist Action Party was able to extend its vote to the coastal areas and even major cities.

Conclusion: The Three Rival Forms of Turkish Nationalism In this chapter, I have tried to describe the various shades of nationalism to help the reader recognize the nuances between its ethnic, territorial and conservative forms, as well as the basic tenets of Kemalism and the state that it created.

In conclusion, it should be pointed out that Kemalism, the specific form of nationalism that defined the identity of the Turkish state, also influenced its foreign policy behaviour. A pan-Turkist Turkey under the leadership of a person such as Atsız would undoubtedly have


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pursued a more aggressive and expansionist foreign policy. I hope to have demonstrated the presence of competing forms of nationalism within Turkish nationalism. The capture of the state machinery by any form of nationalism other than Kemalism would have led to different policy outcomes in the realms of Turkish domestic and foreign politics. In order to offer a framework of analysis regarding the type of nationalism and the kind of foreign policy behaviour it would entail, I should like to argue that Kemalist nationalism is the most complex of all because of its synthetic nature and because it is the only kind of nationalism that actually controlled the state. Kemalist state identity offers a good framework for analysing Turkish foreign policy behaviour: it is cautious, peaceful, shows little interest in Turks living outside the country and focuses its primary concern on the territory of the republic. The anomalies of Hatay, Cyprus and possibly the Turkic world will be discussed in the chapters that follow.

It should also be pointed out that Kemalists were content with having achieved the National Pact and they always pointed out that Turkey had no territorial ambitions beyond the National Pact. However, they seem to have ignored the fact that the borders envisaged in the National Pact were never realized: namely Western Thrace, Batumi, which became part of the Georgian Soviet Socialist Republic, and the city and region of Mosul. While there was little interest in these areas, Cyprus, which was lost to the British in 1878 and was clearly outside the boundaries of the National Pact, became a national issue for Turks.

Had an ethnic-based nationalism captured the state machinery, the resultant policy would have been expansionist and irredentist in its attempt to unite all Turks living in the world in one state. This stems from the fact that ethnic nationalists in the case of Turkey were also pan-Turkists. The initial areas of concern for them would have been territorially contiguous areas such as Western Thrace in Greece and Bulgaria, the Kirkuk–Mosul region in northern Iraq, and of course Cyprus. Naturally, I am aware that it is impossible to prove a counterfactual and that unless a truly pan-Turkist cadre were to capture the government we would be unable to know the precise policy outcomes emanating from expansionist nationalism. Yet, it is my contention that the predictive power of my Turkish foreign policy


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model not only covers prospective interventions but also starts out from the assumption that variation in the kinds of nationalism leads to divergent policy outcomes.

Figure 2.1 Kinds of nationalism and their policy outcomes

Types of Nationalism Types of Foreign Policy Outcomes

Conservative nationalism, as manifested in the ideology of the

Turkish-Islamic synthesis, never became the official ideology of Turkey. Granted, there were important members of the ruling Motherland Party (1983–91) who adhered to this ideology, as well as members of the military junta (1980–83) who adopted this ideology as an antidote to communism. Yet, the synthesis ideology never achieved

Kemalist Nationalism • National identity defined

according to culture and citizenship

• Territorial and ethnic elements

• Limited role for Islam • Cultural Turkism

Selective involvement based on domestic and international variables

Ethnic Nationalism • National identity

restricted to ethnic kin • No role for Islam • Racist and

discriminatory

Pan-Turkist, expansionist, irredentist

Conservative Nationalism• National identity composed

of Turkish and Muslim factors

• Central role for Islam • Socially conservative

Activist, responsive to Islamic and Turkish

matters


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the ideological hegemony of Kemalism. However, its secondary impact should be emphasized because Turkey became more open to the Middle Eastern states in the 1980s and to the Turkic world in the 1990s. It could be argued that this ideology prepared and enabled the elite to adopt a more activist foreign policy. There were many members of the Kemalist elite, who were suspicious of any foreign entanglement, branding this as adventurism, hence the activist policies of Özal only became possible with the emergence of a more rural-based conservative political elite – as opposed to the predominantly Kemalist state elite that existed within the army, bureaucracy, judiciary, academia and the social democratic parties, such as the Republican People’s Party and the Democratic Left Party.

To sum up, conservative Turkish nationalism made Turkish policy makers more responsive to both the Islamic and Turkic worlds and hence can be seen as complementing Kemalism and making the ideological orientation of the country more receptive to a more activist Turkish foreign policy.

This chapter has shown that a single variable – nationalism – is not sufficient to explain foreign policy behaviour as it only makes sense when variations of nationalism are specified, their policy outcomes presented and the domestic and international factors that are at play with each other are analysed.

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3 Turkish Foreign Policy Analysis

In its conduct of foreign policy since 1923, the year when the Republic of Turkey was declared, Turkey followed a pacific and non-revisionist path, being content with its territorial possessions and openly ruling out any expansionist policy. The Turkish foreign policy establishment refers to Atatürk’s dictum ‘Peace at home, peace in the world’ as the cornerstone of Turkish foreign policy. The above statement explains much of the eighty plus years of republican foreign policy from 1923 to 2010 in that Turkey was satisfied with what it called borders established by the National Pact and that there was little or no interest in the Turks living outside the borders of Turkey.

In the light of this analysis, Turkey’s involvement in Cyprus since the 1950s (with the possible exception of Hatay, which was annexed in 1939) seems like an anomaly. After all, Cyprus was de facto lost to Britain in 1878 and legally relinquished to that country with the Treaty of Lausanne in 1923. The answer to this puzzle can be found in the Turkist element in Kemalism, which defines the identity of the Turkish state, which, in turn, influences Turkish foreign policy behaviour. In the case of Cyprus, a combination of strategic and cultural elements resulted in an interventionist foreign policy. Although the Kemalist foreign policy establishment is highly suspicious of foreign entanglements, when a window of opportunity is presented, it does not rule out action to rescue fellow Turks, provided such action does not jeopardize Turkey’s security.

A window of opportunity1 exists when the international and domestic environments are conducive to it. Within the domestic environment there needs to be strong public support for any involvement in the affairs of the Turkish group in question. Involvement in the affairs of fellow Turks, as defined in the Introduction to this book, ranges from statements in favour of fellow


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Turks to fully-fledged military intervention and possible annexation. The government should also show an interest in the fate of the fellow Turks under consideration. At the international level, the major regional powers, or more importantly the superpowers, should either be preoccupied with some domestic or foreign crisis, or willing to allow Turkey to go ahead with its intended involvement.

As many people may remember, in 1974 the United States was bogged down with the Watergate scandal, whereas the Soviet Union had improved economic relations with Turkey and was interested in the break-up of the southern flank of NATO as a result of a confrontation in Cyprus between Greece and Turkey. These factors led the USSR to adopt a sympathetic position towards Turkey.

Therefore, it is possible to characterize an involvement in the affairs of external Turks as a sporadic eruption of Turkish nationalism inherent in Kemalist state identity. However, it should be emphasized that the window of opportunity involves a high dose of opportunism, rationalized by the protection of state interests and the rescue of fellow Turks.

Turkish foreign policy follows neither a purely rational-strategic approach nor an identity-based orientation, but rather contains elements from both. As should be clear, these concepts are of course ideal types that do not exist in the real world. As abstractions, however, they provide us with the two extreme poles of what a foreign policy might look like. Kemalist state identity is concerned with state security, but its very definition of the state as Turkish ensures that a delicate balance is maintained between cold rational calculations of power maximization and the sentimental calls of pan-Turkism for Turkic unity. By prescribing and proscribing certain foreign policy behaviours, Kemalism influences foreign policy far more than the policy makers actually recognize.

Ideational elements in Turkish foreign policy, at least those emanating from nationalism, result in constructed responsibilities for Turks living abroad, whereas material variables determine the limits of Turkish involvement in the affairs of external Turks. Lessons learnt from the past include the perceived failure of pan-Turkism during the First World War and thus a preoccupation with survival leading to cautious foreign policy behaviour.

TURKISH FOREIGN-POLICY ANALYSIS

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Both international systemic variables and domestic factors are significant in foreign policy analysis because ‘the world system provides a context and a set of constraints’, whereas national level elements determine ‘specific outcomes’.2 In other words, particular foreign policy decisions cannot be comprehended without looking inside the black box, namely those second image factors that influence state behaviour even though the system punishes or rewards certain kinds of action.

This chapter starts out with an exposé of Turkish foreign policy in a historical perspective through which the main patterns and parameters of Turkish foreign policy are identified. It then goes on to specify the main actors in the foreign policy making process and offers a foreign policy model for Turkey that has analytical power in explicating specific Turkish foreign policy decisions. It concludes with an overall appraisal of Turkish foreign policy.

Patterns and Parameters of Turkish Foreign Policy in Historical Perspective Looking at Turkish foreign policy from cultural, historical and strategic angles, one sees that being the successor state of the Ottoman Empire gives Turkey some advantages and disadvantages. Old hatreds and suspicions levelled at the Ottoman Empire continue to be targeted at modern Turkey. For example, the Armenian lobbies still exert pressure on national parliaments throughout the world to recognize the 1915 clashes between the Ottoman army and the Armenian irregulars – as well as Turkish and Armenian civilian losses – as genocide.3 On the other hand, having an imperial heritage increases its prestige among some of the peoples of the former Ottoman Empire.

The ethnic groups that have moved from those territories to the Ottoman Empire proper still influence Turkish policy, since they continue to identify with their kinsmen in Bosnia or Chechnya. Migration from the Caucasus continued throughout the nineteenth and twentieth centuries and included Circassians, Chechens and Karachay Turks. From the Balkans, peoples of Albanian, Bosnian Muslim and Turkish extraction migrated to Turkey in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. Turkish citizens whose ancestors hail from the Caucasus and Balkans number in the millions, but exact figures cannot be given because such questions are not posed in the Turkish censuses.


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The cultural dimension of Turkish foreign policy has to take into account Islamic or ethnic solidarity towards Muslims in general and Turks, Chechens, Bosnians, Albanians and other ethnic groups that live inside and outside the boundaries of Turkey. This situation, however, is balanced by Turkey’s Western orientation,4 which entails not only a preference for Western states in its foreign policy but also a view of the Western world with its democracy and lifestyle as something to be emulated and internalized.

Turkey is both the antithesis and continuation of the Ottoman Empire. In many ways modern Turkey was created on the negation of the Ottoman Empire, yet to a large extent the cadres of its bureaucracy were taken over from the empire. The foreign ministry and military were staffed with cadres of the ancien régime, which presented an element of continuity in republican Turkey, hence eschewing the difficulties of new states, which lack educated cadres to fill the bureaucracy.5

The founding fathers of the Turkish republic adopted a highly cautious view of the world, thus eschewing what was labelled as adventurism or Enver Pashaism. Instead, they preferred to focus on the economic and political development of the country and to protect at any price the independence and territorial integrity of the newborn state. The Ottoman Empire, which experienced territorial losses from the eighteenth century onwards and whose economic and juridical spheres were open to penetration through the capitulations granted to all the major Western powers was the antithesis of what Atatürk wanted the new Turkey to be. The new Turkish state was to be totally independent, protecting its territory but at the same time coexisting in a peaceful manner with all its neighbours and other nations of the world. Therefore, survival, preservation of the status quo and peace in its region and the world were the major preoccupations of Kemalist Turkey.

The foreign policy establishment portrays the country’s foreign policy as ‘based on accepted principles of international law’ and characterizes the country as peaceful without harbouring any territorial ambitions. Turkey also emphasizes its ‘European vocation’ with the character of a national consensus, which would culminate in EU membership. The official position also reiterates the possibility that


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Turkey might serve as a model for all the Muslim nations to show that Islam and democracy are compatible.6 It has also been argued that the growing relations with the Turkic world cannot be an alternative to Turkey’s ‘Western-oriented foreign policy’ and that it would only complement it. Furthermore, some analysts also present Turkey as a model for Turkic speaking countries in Central Asia and the Caucasus.7

The change in the structure of the international system from bipolarity to unipolarity posed a challenge to Turkish grand strategy in that it made the Western world no longer need Turkey as a strategic ally. Furthermore, the rejection of Turkey’s membership of the EU might encourage Turkey to take on a more activist role in pursuing nationalist goals among Turkish minorities living along its borders as well attempting to create a sphere of influence among the Turkic republics of the former Soviet Union.8

Advocates of a multidimensional foreign policy with more emphasis on Eurasia were limited to a few academics, generals and the left-wing Kemalist Labour Party. They either openly rejected EU membership or argued for closer cooperation with the Turkic world and Russia.9 Such an option would only be possible if the EU unequivocally rejected Turkey’s membership.

Turkey is located on a strategic piece of territory with easy access to the Balkans, the Caucasus and the Middle East, three areas that do not have a dearth of conflicts that threaten world peace. Coupled with Turkey’s control of the Bosporus and Dardanelles Straits,10 this geography offers both opportunities and dangers. Living among high-security threats emanating from neighbours that either have territorial claims, such as Syria, or with a neighbour (Russia) that traditionally – despite its political regime, be it tsarist or communist – challenged Turkish power from the Crimea to the Caucasus, are the most important reasons why Turkey needs to be a national security state and for its military to play a role in internal and international politics.

In fact, it would be correct to say that Turkey is the only country apart from Russia that is directly influenced by the events in the Middle East, the Caucasus and the Balkans. For any state that wants to operate militarily against these regions, access to Turkish soil is highly desirable,11 though not required, as we saw when the American


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administration demanded such access during the second Gulf war of March 2003. In other words, had Turkey allowed the United States to use its territory to open a northern front against Iraq, the occupation of Iraq might have been made easier. Yet still without that access the coalition forces headed by the United States and the United Kingdom easily overthrew the Saddam regime in less than a month.

In the light of these considerations and because of its military power and economic potential, it would be correct to characterize Turkey as a middle or regional power that is a force to be reckoned with in its region, even though it is a state that lacks the power to influence the general course of international relations or events beyond its region. Because of this state of affairs, if threatened by a great power, it has to rely on the balance of power system to establish an alliance or preserve its neutrality, hence exploiting systemic factors12 to survive in the anarchic international system. This urge for survival and the resort to the balance of power were essential both for the Ottoman Empire and for republican Turkey.

In 1995, the assistant secretary of state, Richard Holbrooke, characterized Turkey as a ‘front-line state’ that ‘stands at the crossroads of almost every issue of importance to the US on the Eurasian continent’.13 In fact, numerous American leaders have emphasized Turkey’s strategic significance, as to a lesser extent have various European leaders.

Turkey has also been called a pivotal state, defined as ‘a key country’ with the power to influence regional politics and contribute to international peace. Turkey and states such as Mexico, Brazil, Algeria, Egypt and India are deemed to be strategically important for American foreign policy because of their ‘size, population, geostrategic position, economic potential and the capacity to affect global and regional issues’.14 Turkey’s geostrategic location at the borders of areas that are vital for world peace such as the Balkans, the Middle East and the Caucasus, makes it a country that is ‘vital to US interests’. With its secular democracy, there is a distinct possibility that the Turkic republics might emulate the Turkish model.15 However, in all fairness, it would be in order to point out that the Turkic states seem to be imitating the early authoritarian nation-building phase of Turkey, emphasizing the personality cult of the leaders. In Turkmenistan, they


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have gone to such extremes as to change the names of the months at the behest of the leader and the former president Saparmurad Niyazov, who called himself Türkmenbaşı (the head of the Turkmen) along the lines of Atatürk (father of the Turks).

Turkey was not able to ‘play a leadership role’, as Egypt did among the Arab countries, since each newly independent Turkic state tried to balance its interests between Russia, Turkey and the United States.16

Turkey’s control of the strategic straits, the Dardanelles and the Bosporus, was important during the cold war and still is today, for these are major international waterways for the transportation of strategic goods such as oil, and the Soviet Union/Russia’s only water access to warm seas, namely the Mediterranean. In view of Turkey’s peaceful role in the region through contributing personnel to UN and NATO peacekeepers, its move away from the Western alliance would have detrimental effects on American national interests.17 However, during the second Gulf war of 2003 and in its aftermath, Turkish–American relations suffered because Turkey did not allow a second front for the USA in its war against Iraq and because America established a close working relationship with the Kurds in northern Iraq, causing concern in Turkey. Whether these crises will be overcome remains to be seen.

According to Oran, the two pillars of Turkish foreign policy are the preservation of the status quo, which is manifested in Atatürk’s foreign policy motto ‘Peace at home, peace in the world’ and its Western orientation. The preservation of the status quo entails protection of the national boundaries and the rejection of irredentism. In other words, once Turkey during the War of Liberation (1919–22) managed to revise the postwar status quo18 by rejecting the Treaty of Sèvres and replacing it with the Treaty of Lausanne, the gains of the newborn state were highly cherished by the founding fathers of Turkey to be protected at all costs.

It should be remembered that there were, however, cases of revisionism, manifested for example in the Treaty of Montreux, which altered the Lausanne status quo regarding the straits and the annexation of Hatay.19 Turkey’s Western orientation20 emanates from Kemalist nationalism, which not only relies on the pre-Ottoman history and culture of the Turks but is also aimed at transforming the


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Turkish people into a Western nation. This had policy implications because Turkey wanted to have cordial relations with the West not only for the sake of national security but also with a view to becoming part of the Western family of nations. This pillar of Turkish foreign policy is a key variable in explaining Turkey’s desire to join the European Union, which is beyond the scope of this study.

However, I would like to take issue with this retrospective reading of Kemalism that equates it with Turkey’s aim to become part of the EU. As demonstrated in Chapter 2, there are elements in Kemalism, such as full independence, national sovereignty and, in its early years, a limited amount of anti-Westernism and a strong anti-imperialism, which might suggest that the delegation of national sovereignty to a supranational body would conflict with the spirit of Kemalism.

From Ottoman to Turkish Diplomacy At the height of Ottoman power, foreign policy was conducted through war and dictated to the weaker states neighbouring the Ottoman Empire. Only after a series of defeats throughout the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries did the Ottoman Empire decide in the 1790s to establish permanent embassies in European capitals.

Before that date, there were ambassadors and representatives sent to European and neighbouring countries, such as Iran, both of which were of a temporary nature. Ambassador Süleyman Mustafa Aga, accredited to France in 1669, was instrumental in the introduction of coffee to France and Yirmisekiz Mehmet Çelebi sent to Paris in 1720–21 on a temporary mission, was sent to study the technological and cultural developments in the aforementioned country and to prepare a report on the prospects of their application in the Ottoman Empire. His presence at the French capital created an interest in Turkish culture among the French upper classes. After returning to Istanbul, the ambassador’s son, Mehmet Sait, soon to be appointed as ambassador to France in 1742, collaborated with Ibrahim Müteferrika in the introduction of the printing press to the Ottoman Empire.21

While these temporary envoys represented an increased interest in Europe and were evidence that the Ottoman Empire no longer viewed Europe as the land of infidels from which nothing worthy could be learnt, it was only in the late eighteenth century that permanent


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embassies were established, first in London in 1793, and then in Vienna, Berlin and Paris.22 The main reason for this development was the need to understand and learn from Europe, whose power was becoming more apparent to the Ottoman ruling elite.

The nineteenth-century reformers of the Tanzimat era all served in an embassy. Mustafa Reşid Paşa served in Paris and London, Ali Paşa in Vienna and Fuad Paşa in London. Ahmed Vefik Paşa was ambassador to Paris; he later became grand vizier and speaker of the first Ottoman parliament in 1877. The latter also produced scientific works on Turkish history and language,23 hence contributing to the development of Turkish nationalism.

The opening of Ottoman embassies in European capitals should be seen as an attempt to overturn the general decline of Ottoman power, manifested in territorial losses against Russia and Austria. Consequently, the need to understand Europe put those who had served in Europe at an advantage when it came to matters of state affairs. Hence, a thorough knowledge of Europe and its languages enabled ambitious bureaucrats to reach key power positions in Istanbul.

A similar endeavour was the establishment of modern schools within the empire and the sending of students to Europe to learn modern sciences so that the Ottoman Empire would once again rival the European powers. Engineering schools for the navy and the military were opened in 1773 and 1793, a medical school was founded in 1827, a military academy based on the French model was inaugurated in 1834 and finally schools that taught European languages were opened with a view to preparing students to become bureaucrats and translators.24

The foreign ministry (Hariciye Nezareti) in its modern form was established in 1835, replacing the chief of scribes (Reisülküttab), who had until then conducted foreign affairs in the name of the grand vizier and sultan.25 It would be in order to say that the modern bureaucratic structure of the empire was created by the Tanzimat reforms, the institutions of which survived in one form or another into the republican era.

The Ottoman foreign service came into existence during the nineteenth century because the empire was losing territory and needed


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to establish or consolidate liaisons with the European powers. After the dissolution of the Ottoman Empire, the new Turkish republic came into being with the Treaty of Lausanne signed on 24 July 1923. With this document, the European powers recognized the independence and sovereignty of Kemalist Turkey, which to a large extent satisfied its territorial ambitions, and Turkey became an honourable member of the international community. Sources of concern for some politicians included the non-redemption of all the territories included in the National Pact – Batumi, the Mosul area, Hatay and Western Thrace. Among those territories only Hatay was to be restored to Turkey in 1939. Full sovereignty was not obtained for the straits, but the Treaty of Montreux rectified this in 1936. Besides these deficiencies for Turkish nationalists, it was still a big victory for a country on the verge of capitulation. In fact, the Ottoman Empire surrendered to the allies, though the alternative government established in Ankara in 1920 did not recognize this. In short, the Treaty of Lausanne was the founding document of the republic of Turkey, and this has gained almost sacred connotations in official historiography.

During the Atatürk era, multilateral diplomacy was conducted instead of a unilateral policy of creating faits accomplis. The resolution of the Mosul and Hatay problems within the League of Nations, and the establishment of the Balkan and Sadabad Pacts, refer to this fact.

Cooperation among the Balkan states accelerated as bilateral agreements were signed between Greece and Turkey in 1930. This was a remarkable piece of diplomacy undertaken between Atatürk and Venizelos, the leaders of Turkey and Greece respectively, who had fought each other only eight years before. In 1930 Greek Prime Minister Venizelos visited Ankara and signed the Treaty of Friendship. His visit was reciprocated in 1931 by Premier Inönü, who travelled to Athens for consultations and addressed the Greek parliament. In 1933, Turkish foreign minister Tevfik Rüştü Aras visited Greece, by which date another treaty of friendship had been signed.26

The Balkan Union Conference was held in Athens in October 1930. Other participants at this conference besides Greece and Turkey were Albania, Bulgaria, Romania and Yugoslavia. The aim of the conference was to bring about cultural and economic cooperation. The


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Balkan Pact was signed in Athens on 9 February 1934 by Turkey, Greece, Yugoslavia and Romania with a view to preserving boundaries in the Balkans and containing Bulgarian territorial expansionism. Although it was the Turkish–Greek détente that made this pact possible, it proved futile in the end because both Greece and Yugoslavia were occupied during the Second World War.27

Another regional cooperation attempt was the Sadabad Pact signed at the Sadabad Palace in Tehran on 8 July 1937 between Turkey, Iran, Iraq and Afghanistan. This was a non-aggression pact among the signatories that included non-intervention in the internal affairs of each other. Dr Aras declared that peace was not a tactic but the goal of this pact. Russia and Britain were also supportive of the Sadabad Pact.28

One needs to understand the background of this pact by focusing on Turkey’s close relations with these countries. On 1 March 1921 Turkey signed a mutual recognition and defence agreement with Afghanistan in Moscow, in which both countries also recognized the independence of Buhara and Hive in Turkestan and promised to respect each other’s form of government. If there were to be imperialist aggression against either party the other signatory was under an obligation to consider this act as an aggression against itself and come to the aid of the other party. Both countries also expressed their hope for the liberation of the ‘Eastern World’. Furthermore, Turkey agreed to send military advisers and teachers to Afghanistan. As a result of this agreement, Turkey established the medical school in Kabul. The Afghan shah visited Turkey in 1928 as a testimony to the existence of fraternal relations between the two countries.29

There were mutual visits between Iraqi and Turkish dignitaries; in 1937 King Faisal visited Atatürk and Dr Aras visited Baghdad.30 Turkey had renounced its claims to the Mosul area in the 1920s and the two countries put the past behind them and established amicable relations.

On 22 April 1926 Turkey and Iran signed a peace and friendship treaty proscribing any propaganda or other activities against the territorial integrity of the other country. If one of the parties were to be attacked the other was to remain neutral. When a rebellion broke out in the Ağrı region, Iran supported Turkey’s effort to pacify the rebels. When Shah Reza Pahlavi visited Ankara in June 1934, Atatürk


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characterized Turkish–Iranian friendship as the main principle of Turkish foreign policy.31

Both the Balkan and Sadabad Pacts were initiated by Turkey, which was concerned about the status quo in the Balkans and the Middle East and aimed to establish stable and peaceful liaisons among those countries. The Sadabad Pact was significant in reaffirming the independence of the signatories and establishing close cooperation against the Kurdish independence movement in all the countries except Afghanistan. So we see a common front established against Kurdish separatism and affirmation of the territorial integrity of all the four countries that were signatories to the Sadabad Pact.32

Between 1919 and 1939 Turkish–Soviet relations were extremely positive. In fact, the Soviet Union supported Turkey in its War of Liberation by providing arms and money for the nationalist movement. After Turkey got its independence in 1923, the Soviet Union continued its cooperation, for both countries supported the status quo and wanted internal consolidation.33 Indeed, as late as 1945 the former foreign minister Dr Aras was advocating collective security based on an international organization and special relations between Turkey and the Soviet Union, as well as the United States and United Kingdom. He was a strong believer in the special relations between Turkey and the Soviet Union, the commonality of outlooks emanating from the anti-imperialism inherent in their respective revolutions and a great advocate of collective security.34

Dr Aras argued that Kemalist foreign policy was suspicious of alliances and preferred to retain regional peace and world order through collective security. Hence, he was critical of Turkey’s pro-American foreign policy from the 1950s onwards and called for a more neutral and possibly non-aligned approach.35 According to his logic, the Sadabad Pact and the other arrangements in place were collective security agreements and did not count as formal alliances.

Under his tenure, Turkey became a member of the League of Nations in 1932 and was a strong advocate of collective security as manifested in sanctions against Italy due to its invasion of Ethiopia.36 These examples demonstrate Kemalist Turkey’s desire for international and pacific solutions to conflicts and can be likened to Turkey’s regional efforts in the 1990s like the Black Sea Economic Cooperation


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initiatives and the Economic Cooperation Organization, which was reactivated with the entry in 1992 of the newly-independent Muslim states of Central Asia and the Caucasus. This organization had been established in 1985 between Turkey, Iran and Pakistan to increase economic cooperation and to establish a free trade area in ten years.37 Turkey aimed to institutionalize its relations with the Turkic and Muslim states of the former Soviet Union in this and similar organizations.

During the Atatürk era, ideological considerations were considered less important than power politics in the formulation of foreign policy.38 Good relations were established with almost all Turkey’s neighbours, including old enemies like Greece and Russia, incarnated as the Soviet Union. Atatürk portrayed Ottoman foreign policy under the influence of Islam as ideological and expansionist. The new foreign policy was to be commensurate with state power and more modest goals were to be set. Internal consolidation was regarded as paramount and adventurism was to be ruled out. Kemalist foreign policy was, in effect, defensive realism – state survival through the maximization of power achieved by focusing on strengthening the Turkish economy and military, and establishing friendly relations with all the neighbours through a policy of non-expansionism and the protection of the status quo.

Yet, there was also a feeling of injustice at not having realized the national boundaries set out in the National Pact. One such deficiency was ‘remedied’ with the incorporation of Hatay in 1939. The fact that the nationalist proclivities of Kemalism erupted from time to time requires analysis within a constructivist framework. In sum, realist and constructivist theories provide us with the mental tools with which to comprehend Kemalist foreign policy.

Kemalism determines the ‘parameters’ of Turkish foreign policy and defines national interests – the obsession with joining the EU stems from the Kemalist elite’s Western vocation and not through rational calculation of the national interest.39 This is one reading of Kemalism that is advocated by the Kemalist elite. There is nothing absolute in Kemalism that necessitates accession in the EU. In fact, many elements in Kemalist foreign policy, such as full independence, full sovereignty and neutrality at the practical level, would rule out the


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quest for EU membership. In the current circumstances it might not be in Turkey’s interests to join the EU; it might prove to be politically costly, for it would include a radical transformation of its state structure and a large number of demands on Cyprus and Armenia. The satisfaction of these demands would necessitate a drastic ideological and political adjustment to the past 80 years of Turkish domestic and foreign policies.

After Atatürk’s death, Turkey faced the calamity of the Second World War, of which the political elite was highly suspicious, especially given that, as professional soldiers in the Ottoman army, both Atatürk and Inönü had personally experienced the scourge of war. In fact, President Inönü wanted to avoid Turkey’s involvement in the Second World War at all costs. Despite strong pressure from both camps to join the war on their side, Turkey managed to remain neutral by placating the British and Germans at the same time. The declaration of war on Germany just as the Second World War was about to come to an end was undertaken primarily to ensure Turkey’s inclusion in the United Nations.

After the end of the Second World War, Turkey had to abandon its policy of neutrality, which had been the main characteristic of Turkish foreign policy for most of the early republican era. This stemmed from Soviet demands on the Turkish provinces of Kars and Ardahan and joint control of the straits, making it obvious that the USSR wanted to Sovietize Turkey. This state of affairs forced Turkey to join the Western bloc during the cold war.

Turkey joined NATO in 1952, as it was no longer possible to continue its policy of neutrality and as Western and Turkish interests converged in containing the Soviet Union. Numerous US–NATO bases, many containing nuclear weapons, were erected on Turkish soil.40 Turkey became part of the policy of containment, which made sense strategically but to a large extent alienated it from its Arab neighbours, particularly after its involvement in the Baghdad Pact between Turkey, Britain, Iraq, Iran and Pakistan in 1955. Nationalist Arabs saw the pact as a continuation of British imperialist policy under a new guise. Following the overthrow of the Hashemite monarchy in Iraq in 1958, the Baghdad Pact was replaced in 1959 by the Central Treaty Organization (or CENTO). CENTO eventually ceased to exist


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after the Iranian revolution in 1979. The problem was that the overwhelming number of Arabs did not, as Turkey did, view the Soviet Union as a mortal threat and instead perceived Israel and Western imperialism as the real and present dangers.41

Turkey’s strong commitment to the Western alliance diminished when the Cyprus problem erupted and it failed to secure the support it wanted from the international community. There was a rapprochement with the Soviet Union throughout the 1960s and 1970s, not only during the leadership of the conservative Süleyman Demirel government but also during that of the neutralist social democrat Bülent Ecevit.42

The infamous Johnson letter, which President Lyndon Johnson sent to Premier Inönü in 1964, warned Turkey that if it attacked Cyprus, which could have triggered a Soviet invasion, then it should understand that the NATO alliance would not automatically come to Turkey’s rescue. This letter was leaked to the press and became one of the main causes of anti-Americanism in Turkey.

Another incident that increased anti-Americanism was the arms embargo (1975–78) that the United States Congress imposed on Turkey in the aftermath of Turkey’s intervention in Cyprus in 1974.

In the 1960s and 1970s Turkey conducted a multilateral foreign policy, opening up to the Arab world, voting together with Arabs at the United Nations and allowing the PLO to open a liaison office in Ankara in 1979.43 This stemmed partly from disappointment with the Western world but more importantly from a wish to gather support for it policy on Cyprus in the international arena. Admittedly, this was not a very successful ploy because none of the Arab states fully supported Turkey’s position on Cyprus.

To comprehend Turkey’s new foreign policy one needs to consult the March 1965 Turkish foreign ministry’s bulletin in which an article advocating a stronger relationship with the Asian and African countries, as part of its policy of opening up to the non-Western nations of the world, can be read. Naturally, the author argued that these relations were not to be at the expense of Turkey’s relations with the Western world but would rather complement them.44

As part of this policy, Turkey attended the Islamic conference held in Rabat, Morocco on 25 September 1969, which aimed to establish


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the Organization of the Islamic Conference (OIC). However, Turkey’s half-hearted participation in OIC meetings and its refusal to sign the charter of that organization because of references to Islam meant that it could not become a de jure member of OIC. Its desire to keep a neutral approach to inter-Arab as well as Arab–Israeli issues45 demonstrated that it could not be a fully-fledged member of the Arab-Muslim world, or for that matter the Third World, because of its other priorities such as its commitments to NATO, Europe and its domestic priorities such as secularism.

OIC expressed support for the Turkish Cypriots on numerous occasions, one such event being at the seventh OIC foreign ministers summit held in Istanbul in 1976. At that meeting Rauf Denktaş addressed the delegates as the leader of the Turkish Cypriot Muslim community. Sympathy with Turkish Cypriots was expressed in the final communiqué of the summit. The political equality of Turks and Greeks in Cyprus was also recognized at this conference. Furthermore, in 1979 Turkish Cypriots obtained observer status at the Fez summit.46 Support from Muslim nations for Turkey’s Cyprus policy did not, however, go beyond expressions of solidarity. This stemmed from the fact that they were worried about the territorial integrity of the non-aligned Republic of Cyprus and consequently they refused to recognize the Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus declared in 1983.47 Needless to say, their priorities were different and included state consolidation and the Palestine question, on which they felt they got inadequate support from Turkey.

Turkey’s improved relations with the Muslim world were part of its policy of opening up to the non-Western world and maintaining a multilateral approach through balancing its relations between Western and Eastern nations.48 It could be argued that this new policy was a reaction to the unilateralist pro-Western policy of the era of the Democratic Party (1950–60), largely due to the need to garner support for the ‘national cause’, namely Cyprus, but also because, after the 1960 military coup d’état and the 1961 constitution that was subsequently promulgated, leftist ideas and politicians with anti-Western and pro-Third World inclinations gained popularity. In fact, the emergence of Bülent Ecevit within the RPP and the socialist Turkish Labour Party very much demonstrated this kind of current in


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Turkish politics. Therefore, both international and domestic factors were at play in Turkey’s new Ostpolitik.

According to one scholar of Turkish foreign policy, Turkey’s participation at OIC meetings constituted a deviation from the Kemalist heritage of non-participation in alliances or religious groupings. However, this policy emerged for new international political and economic reasons and as an attempt to end Turkey’s isolation in its foreign policy environment.49 Despite being a member of NATO and of the Council of Europe, Turkey’s new independent policy on Cyprus has made it the odd man out. Turkey realized that it had very few allies to render it support in its actions towards what it perceived as a minority under oppression in Cyprus.

With the advent of the 1980s, Turkey once again clung to the Western alliance, first under the military regime (1980–83) and then under Turgut Özal (1983–93), who ruled the country initially as prime minister, then as president.50 Yet, it should be added that Özal’s pro-American inclinations were balanced by his desire to conduct a multilateral foreign policy, which included elevated relations with the European Community, and Muslim and Turkic states. In fact, he was trying to make Turkey a regional power with influence in Tashkent and Baku as well as Cairo and Baghdad, not to forget Brussels and Washington.

The 1990s brought new challenges as the Soviet Union collapsed and Turkey’s commonality of interests, especially with the European Union but also to a lesser extent with the United States, decreased. From a focus on world politics through a cold-war prism, Turkey now had to concentrate on its own region with the emergence of numerous new states on its borders and beyond. That a new Turkic world emerged did not automatically translate into the policy area. Turkey both lacked the material (economic and military) and mental or ideational power to cope with the Turkic world. In other words, Turkey was not ready to get involved beyond the constrained interventions that it was ready to conduct for the well-being of the Turks living outside its boundaries, whose conditions are discussed below. To clarify this point further, because Atatürk labelled pan-Turkism as dangerous, the Kemalist cadres after him cracked down on pan-Turkists, for instance in 1944; in fact, up until the 1990s the


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mainstream often labelled the covert pan-Turkism of the Nationalist Action Party as fascist and racist. Consequently, when the Turkic world emerged without Turkey’s direct involvement, Turks faced an ideational and material challenge about how to react to their newfound cousins. Suddenly, Türkeş and his ideology seemed vindicated, which was not easy for most Turks, who had viewed him as a dangerous warmonger.

The end of bipolarity elevated Turkey from a marginal player in world politics to a central position51 in the Balkans–Middle East–Caucasus strategic triangle. However, relations with the European nations deteriorated as they increasingly perceived Turkey not through the strategic prism of US policy makers but rather from the cultural perspective of being unlike Europe as far as democracy and human rights were concerned. For American policy planners, on the other hand, the first Gulf War re-emphasized Turkey’s strategic importance at the crossroads of trouble spots.52

Meanwhile, Turkey tried to increase cooperation among the Black Sea countries by initiating the creation of the Black Sea Economic Cooperation (BSEC),53 the members of which included Albania, Armenia, Azerbaijan, Bulgaria, Georgia, Greece, Russia, Ukraine, Romania, Moldova and Turkey. Turgut Özal, who was the mastermind of this project,54 was a strong believer in functionalism to the extent that economic interdependence among countries would foster political stability and understanding.

BSEC was formed to encourage economic, industrial and tech-nological cooperation among members and to plan for a free trade area by the year 2010. BSCE institutions, which included summit meetings, the parliamentary assembly and a trade and investment bank, were developed rather quickly and they offered platforms for understanding and solidarity. Turkey intended to play the role of a regional power and this organization was to serve this objective.55

As another example of its multilateral policy, Turkey contributed 1000 troops to the Kosovo Force (KFOR) located in Prizren, Kosovo, which supported NATO action against Serbian army units in Kosovo.56 General Çevik Bir commanded the UN peacekeepers in Somalia in 1993. Turkey also contributed to the United Nations Observer Mission in Georgia (UNOMIG) and to the Temporary


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International Presence in the City of Hebron (TIPH). Around 1500 peacekeepers were also deployed in Zenica, Bosnia as part of the international effort to bring peace to that ethnically divided country.57 Turkey’s active and reasonable policy on Bosnia was particularly notable for its conciliatory qualities, for there was enthusiasm to help the Muslim Bosnians who were being massacred by the Serbs. It was reasonable because there was no intention on the part of policy makers to intervene militarily in the former Yugoslavia.

In the 1990s, Turkish–Israeli relations improved significantly, yet they were not dominated by military concerns, as Robins argues,58 but by a combination of strategic and political considerations over and above the military matters. By the 1990s Turkey had become disappointed in the Arab countries, partly because of their lack of support over the Cyprus dispute but also because of the hostile stances of some Arab countries, including Syria’s support for the PKK (Kurdistan Workers’ Party) and Iraq’s negative attitude over the water issue. Turkey believed that it made sense to cooperate with Israel in military, intelligence, economic and political matters and hoped that, through the help of the Jewish lobby in America, such gestures would spill over into its relations with the United States.59

The first and second Gulf Wars, in 1991 and 2003 respectively, brought the Kurdish issue onto the world stage. Throughout the 1980s Turkey continually encroached on northern Iraq because the PKK had a number of camps in that area. The Kurdish issue has had a poisonous effect on Turkish foreign policy, for Europeans have been highly critical of the Turkish struggle against Kurdish separatism in Turkey.

Turkey’s quest to join the EU has been ongoing since 1959. Its first application for membership resulted in it being granted associate membership in 1963, but when it applied again in 1987, it was rejected in 1989 on the grounds that it was not ready to join. At the Luxembourg summit in 1997 Turkey was excluded from the candidate countries and, in response, it froze its political dialogue with the European Union. Although Turkey was counted as a candidate state at the Helsinki summit in 1999, its prospects for eventual membership of the EU remain uncertain.

Turkish foreign policy, as advocated by the military and civilian


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bureaucracy, has traditionally been cautious. In the 1990s, however, situations arose that called for a more activist policy, but since there were also many risks involved, its supporters, who included the former president Özal, some journalists and various academics,60 have so far failed to get a more daring policy implemented. The disdain of the foreign policy establishment for adventures beyond the country’s borders probably best explains the persistence of a passive policy. Yet, conflicts in the Balkans, the Caucasus and the Middle East have had a direct bearing on the country – the disruption of trade with Iraq as a result of the Gulf War of 1991 has created economic problems and on the home front there are security concerns about the creation of a Kurdish presence in northern Iraq.

While there were compelling reasons to become more actively engaged, the old guard adopted an overtly cautious approach based on bureaucratic reflexes that tended towards preserving the status quo. The main reason for this state of affairs was that the Turkish elite lacked the ideological conviction to change its Kemalist non-interventionist mindset that upheld a pro-Western orientation and view of Turks living outside the boundaries of Turkey, particularly in the Soviet Union, as potentially dangerous and detrimental to national interests. After so many decades of such a mindset, it is very difficult to adapt to a new security environment.

Despite the fact that Turkish policy makers and common people alike view their country’s foreign policy as peaceful, the abundance of domestic and national security concerns conveys the impression to some Europeans and Arabs that Turkey is an aggressive country. In fact, Kramer holds that, as Turkey pursues its own narrow interests, threatens to use force and gives the image of a ‘regional bully’, its security policy conforms to the realist school of inter-national relations theory.61 This use of force or threat to use force is especially relevant to the situation in Cyprus and the status of the Aegean Sea, for Turkey has stated that any move by Greece to extend its territorial waters beyond six miles is casus belli. It has also declared that a Kurdish state in northern Iraq would similarly be a cause for war. While some of these declarations might be posturing, it should be noted that they emanate from a genuine feeling of insecurity as far as the Turkish psyche is concerned. It should also be


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noted that they contrast with the self-image of a country that believes in a peaceful resolution of conflicts.

The international system played an important role in Turkish foreign policy making. The Soviet threat to the territorial integrity of Turkey necessitated closer ties with the United States. While containment of the Soviet Union was a top priority for Turkish policy makers, the eruption of the Cyprus dispute redirected its concerns towards Cyprus.

To sum up, throughout the 1990s and the first years of the twenty-first century, Turkish foreign policy priorities were gaining membership of the European Union; deepening relations with the United States (provided the disagreement over Iraq is resolved); improving relations with Israel (if that country is genuine in its efforts at peacemaking with the Palestinians because normalization of relations with Israel was implicitly conditioned on progress in the peace process);62 preserving the peace in the Balkans, Middle East and Caucasus through such multilateral mechanisms as NATO, BSEC and the Economic Cooperation Organization (ECO); and supporting ethnic and religious groups that have affinities with Turkey, such as the Bosnians, Azeris and to a much lesser degree the Chechens.

A pro-Western foreign policy as the hallmark of republican Turkey continues to operate, but a more diversified foreign policy with concerns for the Turkic world is also operational. While systemic explanations are relevant to explain most of the cold war era foreign policy, domestic variables such as Kemalist state identity are helpful in its involvement in the Cyprus conflict, which cannot be explained by purely systemic factors. This stems from the fact that the system offers opportunities and determines the limits of the possible range of reactions by a particular country, but it is ultimately the state that either seizes the opportunity or misses it. The role of agency is extremely important in exploiting the possibilities of the system; also, nationalism and public opinion influence state behaviour. Without the presence of Turks in Cyprus, it is highly unlikely that Turkey would have intervened in 1974. Also, the Turkish perception of an expansionist Greece at the expense of Turkey contributed to the sense of vulnerability among Turkish people and decision-makers.


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In conclusion, it would be correct to say that the system can explain neither the variation of policies nor Turkey’s interest in Turks in the former territories of the Ottoman Empire. A purely systemic analysis would surely have been more parsimonious than the analysis I am offering here, but it would not explain Turkish involvement in the fate of fellow Turks and the domestic constraints hindering an irredentist Turkish foreign policy.

Main Actors in the Foreign Policy Making Process Although foreign policy making in Turkey, as in most countries, is an elite activity, this does not necessarily mean that non-state actors such as the business community, labour unions, the media, universities and public opinion cannot, from time to time, exert a certain amount of influence over what decisions are made. However, the aforementioned actors are usually manipulated by state actors; hence, the relationship between the institutions of the state and civil society is an unequal one. Nonetheless, it is important to bear in mind that the leading newspapers such as Milliyet, Hürriyet and Sabah, as well as the Turkish Industrialists and Businessmen’s Association (TÜSİAD), have been at the forefront of supporting Turkey’s application for membership of the European Union and certain columnists, along with members of TÜSİAD and a number of professors, have played an important role in influencing public opinion over the need to make concessions in Cyprus as a necessary precondition for joining the EU.

The three institutions responsible for formulating foreign policy are the prime minister, the foreign ministry and the military and, for most of the twentieth century, foreign policy remained in the hands of these elites. The foreign ministry provided the expertise on foreign affairs and was responsible for the daily running of foreign policy. It would offer the government alternative options on a particular policy area and would help it to come to its ultimate decision. Even though the government had the final say, the foreign ministry was usually influential in helping it come to that decision. The extent of the prime minister’s influence was affected by the skills, political values and character of the individual occupying that position. The military exerted power in foreign affairs via the National Security Council,63 which is composed of the prime minister, the minister of defence, the


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minister of foreign affairs and the chief of staff, along with the commanders of the land, air and naval forces.

Constitutionally (through Article 112), the government determines foreign policy and takes responsibility for it, while the foreign ministry executes those decisions, as well as makes proposals on alternative policy options. The Turkish Grand National Assembly ratifies international treaties and makes the declaration of war. It is also responsible for deploying Turkish troops on ‘foreign soil’ or ‘foreign armed forces’ in Turkey.64

The intelligence service, the National Intelligence Organization (Milli İstihbarat Teşkilatı or MIT) has a lesser impact on foreign policy formulation,65 for its influence is confined to providing intelligence to the relevant institutions.

From the early republican era up until 1950, the central role of the leader (first Atatürk and then Inönü) on foreign policy making is clearly discernable. Both presidents were personally interested in foreign affairs and were often involved in diplomatic negotiations, as witnessed, in the case of the former, in the Franco–Turkish talks in 1921. This did not mean that they did not take the professional opinions of the foreign ministry into account,66 yet Atatürk and Inönü, as the sublime leader (ulu önder) and national chief (milli şef) respectively, were very different from the presidents and prime ministers who succeeded them. Both of them had been national heroes in the War of Liberation, which allowed them a freer hand in the conduct of domestic and foreign policy.

During this era (1919–50) the military, being shadowed as it was by the two towering figures mentioned above, played a minimal role in foreign policy formulation. Interestingly, during the Democratic Party era (1950–60), the role of the foreign ministry in policy making increased exponentially because the new foreign minister, Professor Fuat Köprülü, while an eminent historian, lacked the diplomatic experience necessary to conduct foreign relations and so relied instead on the staff of the foreign service. During that period, the army had very little if any impact on the formulation of the country’s foreign policy.67

After the coup d’état of 27 May 1960, the role of the military in foreign policy formulation was institutionalized in the newly-


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established National Security Council, which had the authority to coordinate policies pertaining to national security and to inform the cabinet of its views. After the 1971 military intervention, the National Security Council’s authority was extended insofar as its mission was redefined as to ‘advise’ the cabinet on its views on national security. Despite the creation of the National Security Council, the military still spent more time on providing consultancy on foreign affairs than on exercising hegemony. The impact of public opinion and of the press increased in the post-1960 period when Turkey became totally committed to Cyprus, over which the foreign ministry and the chief of staff demonstrated perfect coordination.68

The military did not play a key role in increasing Turkish interests in Cyprus. With pro-nationalist individuals involved in the ‘Cyprus is Turkish’ demonstrations from the start, the Turkish people were already more interested in the fate of the Turks on the island than all the state institutions combined. The army was thus only one actor among many others, which, in addition to the ordinary members of the general public, included the foreign ministry, the media and the political parties. Under such circumstances, it seems unlikely that the army would have had the power to veto an aggressive policy towards Cyprus.

The 1974 intervention in Cyprus was a case of the military and the government coordinating their policies in a diligent manner. In fact, because there had been indirect military rule in the years between 1971 and 1973, which had exposed the army to the game of politics and left it with little taste for it thereafter, the military was reluctant to influence governmental policies. The successful conclusion of the Cyprus debacle increased the military establishment’s confidence in the Ecevit government in particular and in civilian rule in general. In fact, Chief of Staff General Semih Sancar was adamant that the military should remain ‘out of politics’.69 It was only after serious clashes in 1977 between left and right militants approached an intensity bordering on civil war that the army once again contemplated a coup d’état.

The 1980 military intervention increased the power of the National Security Council, whose mandate was increased by making it incumbent on the cabinet to consider its decisions a priority. However,


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the transfer to civilian rule in 1983 brought an unconventional prime minister, Turgut Özal, to government who preferred to side-step bureaucracy and conduct foreign relations with businessmen and journalists, some of whom were his advisers. He liked to get involved in foreign relations and his personal style placed much emphasis on using economic interdependence to solve regional disputes. The army70 and foreign ministry engaged in an exercise of damage limit-ation. This being said, Özal’s foreign policy was not wholly reckless and he had a number of genuine ideas for conflict resolution, such as the peace pipeline project that would carry water from Turkey into Israel and the Arab countries. He was courageous and worked like an entrepreneur who took risks. However, his style was totally incom-patible with Turkish state tradition and a substantial portion of the bureaucracy and intelligentsia viewed him with considerable suspicion.

In the 1990s, the military increased its input into foreign policy formulation because of the political instability in the country at large and particularly because of the guerrilla warfare being waged by the PKK, which was presenting a serious threat to Turkey’s territorial integrity. The rise of the pro-Islamist Welfare Party and its fall from power as a consequence of a postmodern or soft coup on 28 February 1997, undertaken by the military with the support of an important stratum of the secular public, further increased the army’s power. While the army was not the initiator of the attempt to improve Turkish–Israeli relations, it has certainly accelerated the process. In fact, the PKK chief was expelled from Damascus because of the pressure of the Turkish generals on Syria, particularly the commander of the armed forces General Atilla Ateş, who had issued a warning to Syria from Hatay. To sum up, an increase in the number of domestic and foreign threats boosted the importance of the army’s role in Turkish politics. However, the 1990s also saw various new institutions becoming involved in foreign policy. The rise of Azerbaijani, Bosnian, Chechen and other ethnic lobbies had some impact on foreign policy but not enough to force the Turkish government to pursue an adven-turist or expansionist course of action. Furthermore, big businessmen and their association, TÜSİAD, were actively supporting Turkey’s bid for EU membership71 in return for some concessions on Cyprus.

The personality of the president also determines his (they have all


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been male so far) relative influence in foreign policy decisions. Turgut Özal (between 1989 and 1993) and Süleyman Demirel (between 1993 and 2000) played active roles in foreign policy initiatives.72 Ahmet Necdet Sezer, by contrast, was far more passive in his approach to external and internal political affairs, perhaps because of his lack of experience in politics and dearth of knowledge of any foreign languages. The current president Abdullah Gül has more international experience, having lived in both the United Kingdom and Saudi Arabia, and he works in tandem with the government party to which he had been affiliated.

The parliament, the Turkish Grand National Assembly, follows the government line and hence does not have much impact on foreign policy decisions, even though it has to approve deployment of foreign troops in Turkey as well as the sending of Turkish troops abroad. Moreover, any declaration of war has to pass through the TGNA.73 On 1 March 2003 the parliament turned down the government’s bill to open Turkish soil to American troops, as a second front against Iraq in the second Gulf War. Paul Wolfowitz, the American deputy secretary of defence, criticized the government and military for failing to lobby the parliament hard enough to ensure that the bill was passed.74 This was one of the rare occasions when the parliament has been able to play a key role in foreign policy formulation.

The role of public opinion is also not very crucial and the government can usually ignore public sensitivities, as witnessed in its policy toward northern Iraq and towards Greek complicity in harbouring Abdullah Öcalan, the leader of the separatist PKK.75 However, it should be pointed out that the impact of public opinion, at least in an indirect way, should not be ruled out altogether, if not in the actual policy-making process then at least in the way it influences the decision makers. A foreign policy that is not totally commensurate with the wishes of the people might lead to punishment in the ballot box by the voters. In fact, the former prime minister Bülent Ecevit said that public opinion was extremely sensitive on the issue of Cyprus because of the ‘purported genocide’ by Greek Cypriots.

This state of affairs, together with the constant reporting of events on the island by the Turkish press, made the Turkish people extremely concerned about Cypriot affairs. In fact, Ecevit argued that he felt that


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he had the full support of the Turkish people, as well as of the military and foreign ministry, when a resolution authorizing war by the Turkish Grand National Assembly (TGNA) was passed. Furthermore, the coalition partner of the Republican People’s Party, the deputy prime minister and leader of the Islamist National Salvation Party (NSP), Necmettin Erbakan, was not only in favour of a military intervention in Cyprus but also advocated the total occupation of Cyprus and its possible annexation by Turkey. Such a policy was overruled by the prime minister, who believed that this would force Turkey to rule over a hostile Greek population with all the complications that that would entail.76

My interview with Bülent Ecevit demonstrated that decision-makers were not oblivious to public opinion, especially since, in a democratic state, political parties are worried about winning the next election. When leaders believe that a foreign policy action is likely to lead to their punishment at the next election, they might well be dissuaded from taking the decision. In fact, immediately after the Turkish operation in Cyprus, Ecevit dissolved the government and wanted to go to the polls to cash the military victory into votes. However, he was less successful in this political manoeuvre than the military intervention, for the president authorized Süleyman Demirel to form the new government.

Turkish Foreign Policy Model In this section of the chapter, I shall start out by discussing the foreign policy making process and then proceed to offer a foreign policy model for Turkey’s external interactions.

The founders of the Turkish republic came from Ottoman military backgrounds and for the last two centuries of Ottoman rule, which to a large extent were characterized by military defeats and territorial losses, the security and survival of the state were of paramount consideration for Ottoman and Turkish leaders. The main lesson learnt from the past, as Atatürk pointed out on numerous occasions, had been that the new Turkish state must at all costs rule out expansionism, pan-Turkism, pan-Islamism or, for that matter, any other form of adventurism. Hence, a highly cautious, almost passive approach came to dominate Turkish foreign policy.


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Accordingly, a realist foreign policy to a large extent was followed under Atatürk and his successors, though because the new state identified itself as peaceful, wholly content with its territories and expressed no desire for expansionism or irredentism, I would call this a passive or defensive realism . In this vein, security was to be attained by focusing on internal matters, especially on cultural and economic development. It is precisely in this sense that realist and constructivist schools of thought in international relations theory converge with respect to my subject matter. While states might be interested primarily in ensuring their security and survival as ‘self-regarding units’,77 their interests are constructed from shared ideas and these shared ideas give meaning to material forces and define what kind of states they are.78

It should be pointed out that the Kemalist elite would not have considered the incorporation of the former Sanjak of Hatay into Turkey’s territorial boundaries as expansionism. This would stem, in my judgement, from the fact that Atatürk and other republican leaders remembered vividly when this area was part of the Ottoman state. Furthermore, Atatürk fought in this area during the First World War. So, while the founding fathers of republican Turkey wanted peace with their neighbours, they did not necessarily view their policy on Hatay as contradicting their peaceful foreign policy. Needless to say, the Syrians viewed the situation quite differently.

While republican Turkey, like all states, was interested in security, it defined its security interests in terms of its state identity, which it derived from the perceived failures of the Ottoman Empire and which essentially comprised anti-Ottomanism and anti-clericalism. Evidence of Turkey’s cautious foreign policy included a lack of initiative in 1947 when Italy gave the Dodecanese islands in the Aegean to Greece; an absence of interest in Cyprus until the mid-1950s; withdrawal from the Middle East in disgust (because of the so-called Arab betrayal of the Ottoman Empire), which meant that any involvement in Middle Eastern affairs came to be regarded as adventurism that would inevitably result in disaster because of the dangers of the Middle Eastern morass; and, more recently, Greece and Greek Cypriots being caught red-handed providing Abdullah Öcalan with a Greek-Cypriot passport and harbouring him in the residence of the Greek


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ambassador in Kenya. In the latter case, Turkey chose to let Greece off the hook easily without much condemnation.

Of course, there are examples of Turkish activism, including the Baghdad Pact in 1955 and the Cyprus intervention in 1974. However, it should be mentioned that the Baghdad Pact was very much a function of the larger picture of Turkish alignment with the Western bloc, particularly with the United States and the United Kingdom. Turkey’s intervention in Cyprus, however, bears the characteristics of an exceptional case of unilateralism, albeit after an offer to Britain for a joint operation in the island. This brings us to a characteristic of Turkish foreign policy, namely multilateralism, especially after the Second World War. This was manifested in Turkey’s membership of the UN, the Council of Europe and NATO, as well as regional groupings such as the Baghdad Pact, later to be renamed the Central Treaty Organization (CENTO). Later, in the 1990s, Turkey came up with some initiatives of its own, including the Economic Cooperation Organization (ECO) and Black Sea Economic Cooperation (BSEC). The precursors of these initiatives can be found in the Balkan Pact and Sadabad Pact, which were signed as regional agreements to promote peace.

In conclusion, I should like to point out that Atatürk created a national state based on Turkish ethnicity. True, assimilation and participation in political affairs were open to other ethnic groups, but the very definition of the state as Turkish made it possible for Turkey to become involved in the fate of Turks living outside the boundaries of the country. The protection of the state (devletin bekası) was of paramount concern for the Kemalists, who had recently saved their country from invasion and partition. For this reason they were reluctant to get involved in a crusade (or jihad) to redeem territories that had once formed part of the Ottoman Empire. However, when there was a window of opportunity, as in the case of Hatay, they annexed the territory from Syria. This became possible because France, which was worried about the coming war in Europe, allowed this piece of territory from its Syrian mandate to be peacefully transferred to Turkey.

In the light of this analysis, it should be evident that Turkey’s concern for outside Turks is highly selective and is based on an


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analysis of state security. In other words, Turkey gets involved if and only if such an action does not jeopardize state security. Kemalist state identity defines state interests in such a way that an activist foreign policy might endanger its security. However, it also defines the state as Turkish, which gives the decision-makers a certain amount of responsibility for the protection of Turks residing in neighbouring countries – as evidenced in the recent involvement of Turkey with the Turkmen of Iraq.

It is of course impossible to ascertain in advance the results that might follow from a Turkish involvement in neighbouring Turkish areas. There is always an element of risk in a policy of intervention. This depends on the calculations of the decision makers. In the case of Karabagh, there were elements of involvement, such as declarations of support and financial support to Azerbaijan but not military intervention, which would have been highly risky in the light of Russian threats and possible condemnation from the United States and France because of the existence of strong Armenian lobbies in the two countries.

While it is true that Turkey seemed to be satisfied with the status quo, at certain times it tried with some success to revise treaties and boundaries. Foremost among these were the 1936 Montreux Convention, Turkey’s annexation of Hatay following its efforts between 1936 and 1939, and Turkey’s interest in Cyprus since the 1950s. What I shall try to show here is that Turkish foreign policy, while not expansionist and aggressive, was less peaceful than the Turkish foreign policy establishment, namely the foreign ministry, chief of staff, and certain academics and commentators, would have us believe. The rhetoric of the decision makers usually focused on international law and morality and, in fact, as we shall see below in the cases of Montreux and Hatay, the situations were resolved in a peaceful manner through diplomacy and recourse to international organizations such as the League of Nations. However, that does not change the fact that the status quo was altered and, especially in the cases of Hatay and Cyprus, the use of force, or at least the threat to use it, was definitely present in the background.

This state of affairs stems from the fact that the definition of state identity as Turkish imposes certain obligations on the Turkish


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government to protect Turkish minorities, especially those living in the former territories of the Ottoman Empire. If the international conjuncture and domestic situation were to allow Turkey to intervene to rescue its ethnic brethren, it would certainly seize the opportunity to do so. The essential precondition for Turkish involvement and possibly for intervention is that such an action would not jeopardize the security of the nation-state. As mentioned above, survival is a key concern for the Turkish leaders and people. There also needs to be a national interest or a perceived national interest involved, usually explained in strategic terms so that the control of the Gulf of Alexandretta and Cyprus are presented as essential for the protection of the Turkish homeland. However, it should also be pointed out that Greek control of most of the islands in the Aegean Sea is tolerated, despite the fact that the status quo is not conducive to Turkish security. The situation is, however, tolerated because not all the conditions for intervention exist. For example, the international conjuncture is unfavourable and there are not enough Turks on those islands, apart from a small number in Rhodes, to warrant intervention.

In the cases of both Hatay and Cyprus, the international system was conducive to Turkish involvement in the affairs of their ethnic kin. In the late 1930s, the world was on the verge of the Second World War, which enabled Turkey to exploit its strategic position and French weakness in the Middle East to put pressure on France to relinquish the Sanjak to Turkey. Regarding Cyprus, détente between the superpowers made international relations more flexible and both powers were able to tolerate intervention, or at least not actively dissuade Turkey from such an action. Furthermore, the United States was in the middle of the Watergate scandal and Henry Kissinger was antagonistic to the policy of non-alignment of Makarios, the Greek Cypriot president, which prevented the writing of a second Johnson letter to stop Turkish intervention. On the other hand, relations with the Soviet Union had improved drastically in the second half of the 1960s, so the Soviets did not threaten Turkey with war, as they had done in 1964, if it invaded Cyprus.

It is evident that both the international system and the bilateral relations of Turkey with the United States and the Soviet Union enabled Turkey to play the role of regional power and revise the status


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quo. In both cases, the Turkish people were solidly behind the government, which was an important source of power for the policy makers.

Figure 3.1 Conditions of Turkish involvement Internal Factors External Factors

For Turkey to get involved, there also needs to be a special

combination of realist and ideational variables. In other words, a ‘vital’ national interest, defined as gravely threatening state security or the lives of fellow Turks, needs to be present before Turkey will take action to intervene in the fate of fellow Turks. This is usually done in strategic terms, in other words non-involvement in that particular conflict would seriously harm the national security of Turkey. Of course, the characterization of a particular area of conflict as vital for Turkish security interests can be looked upon as an opportunistic

The conflict is perceived as vital interest by decision makers and the public

(strategic and ideational)

Conducive international environment

Ethnic kin under oppression Major powers reluctant to get involved and/or engaged with

other domestic or international disputes

National consensus on the necessity of involvement

No threat from regional or major powers in the case of

Turkish involvement

Resolute government and public support

Lack of external patron of the target state


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justification for intervention. Furthermore, this strategic explanation should be complemented with a nationalist discourse, namely that fellow Turks are being massacred or oppressed.

From the formulation above, it should be clear that Turkey will pursue an active foreign policy vis-à-vis outside Turks if and only if such a policy does not threaten state security, and if international and domestic conditions are favourable to Turkey. It is only when such a window of opportunity opens does Turkey get involved in the fate of its kinsmen. Otherwise, Turkey remains aloof to the concerns of Turks living outside its boundaries. Naturally, the more distant the location the less interest there is on the part of Turkey, hence there is little interest in the Uighurs in East Turkestan in the Xinjian province of China and not much interest in the Central Asian republics.

In the case of Karabagh, on the other hand, we see limited possibilities for action. For a start, there is a dearth of international opportunities and threats to state security brought about mainly because Armenia has a powerful ally in Russia and, to a lesser extent, in the United States.

This foreign policy model not only provides a guide to and explanation for Turkey’s foreign policy decisions in the past, but it also enables one to predict likely policy decisions in the future regarding Turkey’s involvement in the fate of Turks living outside the boundaries of the nation-state.

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4 The Annexation of Hatay: Exception or Harbinger of

Future Policy?

The area known as the Sanjak of Alexandretta, or what later, with the additions of Dörtyol and Hassa in 1939, became the province of Hatay, occupies a strategic location in the eastern Mediterranean. Alexandretta has a natural deep sea port suitable for the ‘safe anchorage of large ships’1 that has served Anatolia and Syria in the exchange of trade throughout the centuries. Antioch, the other important city in the area, was the capital of the Syrian province at the time of the Roman Empire. In AD 34 St Paul, St Barnabas and St Peter visited the city to preach the new faith of Christianity.2 From then onwards, there has been a Christian presence in the Hatay region, which remains there to this day, with a number of churches, for example the church of St Pierre, on the outskirts of Antioch.3

The Islamic conquest in 638 was followed by the Seljuk presence between 1084 and 1098, when the Crusaders captured the area, making it part of the Latin kingdom of Jerusalem. The Mamluk sultan Baybars defeated the Crusaders in 1268 and entered Antioch as a victorious ruler. During his reign around 40,000 Turks migrated from Anatolia to settle in the Hatay region. The Ottomans became the next rulers of Alexandretta in 1516 because Yavuz Selim, during his general campaign of Syria and Egypt, also conquered Antioch, which became a part of the province of Aleppo as a subdistrict (liva or sanjak). The ports at Alexandretta, Suwaydiya (Samandağ) and Payas became central places from which to organize the transportation of wheat, ammunition and soldiers to Istanbul.4

The Ottoman authorities initiated the Tanzimat reforms of 1839 to

THE ANNEXATION OF HATAY

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centralize the empire and they entailed reorganizing the entire administrative system. The Hatay region was divided between the provinces of Aleppo and Adana, with Antioch remaining in the former and Alexandretta in the latter.5 The Sanjak of Alexandretta existed during the Ottoman reign, but in its modern form the Allied occupiers created it on 27 November 1919 when they combined the subdistricts of Antioch, Alexandretta, Beilan and Harim. In 1921 the latter town was attached to Aleppo.6 The French troops took over from the British on 1 November 19197 and ruled the district until the late 1930s.

The sanjak dispute between Turkey, Syria and France was solved according to the dictates of the balance of power system. This was achieved within the parameters of international law and multilateral diplomacy at the League of Nations and with the aid of bilateral diplomacy between France and Turkey. The principle of self-determination was applied through a plebiscite on 21 August 1938. The Turkish government exploited the international systemic concerns of the French government. That the majority of people in Turkey were behind the Turkish government as well as the fact that Turkey seemed to be ready to use force, or at least it gave the impression that it was willing to use force, were important factors in the resolution of the Hatay dispute to the Turkish government’s advantage. While Turkish foreign policy during the republican era was based on the principle of peace and diplomacy, the case of Hatay presents an exceptional case of irredentism, consisting of the use of ‘pressure’ with a military power hovering in the background combined with some heavy ‘bargaining’ with the French.8

One Turkish scholar emphasized that besides the opportune inter-national environment, Atatürk’s proficient leadership, the highly developed diplomatic skills of the Turkish foreign service and the strong support the populace gave the government were essential ingredients in finding a solution to the Hatay question. He also said that the majority of the people of the sanjak were either ethnic Turks or had pro-Turkish tendencies.9 This problem, however, Kemalist Turkey conscientiously solved by using all the methods available in diplomacy – coercion and persuasion, propaganda and the offer to form an alliance with the Western powers.

The Hatay conflict, viewed from three angles – international


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environment, national interest and domestic actors – demonstrates that Turkey was well placed to seize the opportunity to absorb the former sanjak of Alexandretta. In the international arena, with the Second World War about to erupt, which was why the major powers, including France and the UK, sought so desperately to co-opt allies. These systemic factors, coupled with Atatürk’s skilful management of the conflict through diplomatic and military measures, led to the annexation of the region in 1939, a year after his death, by the new ruler of Turkey, President İsmet Inönü. However, it was Atatürk who laid the groundwork for the annexation and Inönü, his long-time confidant, was more an implementer of Atatürk’s policies than an initiator of his own decisions. Atatürk and his MPs had articulated the national interest in ideational terms by describing the sanjak as an ancient Turkish territory waiting to be redeemed. Needless to say, nobody from within or outside the ruling party saw fit to contradict such a convincing depiction of the problem.

Atatürk was the major domestic actor in the Hatay conflict, together with lesser figures such as Tayfur Sökmen, who skilfully organized the Turkish movement in the Hatay region. Syria was opposed to what it perceived as the loss of Arab territory, but given that the country (including Hatay) was a French mandate, the real power lay with the French colonial rulers and Paris. The Syrians had little control over their fate and France did not take their reservations seriously, especially since the latter regarded Syria as a very much less important ally than the new republic of Turkey.

Throughout the crisis the country, including the army and intellectuals, was solidly behind Atatürk, a major exception being the rebels in the Kurdish region of Dersim (modern-day Tunceli). Interestingly, this rebellion did not influence Turkish policy towards Hatay and, unlike the Sheikh Said rebellion during the Mosul crisis of the mid-1920s, it did not prevent Turkey annexing a neighbouring region.

Turkey’s incorporation of the region can be seen as a model from which it can draw inspiration because it was the first time that Turkey had expanded its territory and this set the stage for it to take an interest in territories beyond its boundaries. In trying to find patterns or regularities in Turkish behaviour, Hatay is the perfect example of


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Turkish expansionism as seen from the viewpoint of Syrians and Greeks. In fact, the latter fear that a creeping annexation is underway in northern Cyprus. So the lessons of Hatay are important not only for all the people in the region but also for the analysts of the eastern Mediterranean.

Not only did the region occupy a strategic position in the eastern Mediterranean but there was also a ‘strategic link’ between the Gulf of Alexandretta and Cyprus. As British policy makers pointed out, Ottoman forces could be reinforced by the Germans via the port at Alexandretta and any Russian move towards the Mediterranean could be stopped by a British military presence on the island. During the First World War, Churchill and Sharif Hussein had in fact advocated occupying Alexandretta with a view to splitting the Ottoman forces in Anatolia and Syria into two parts. Even T. E. Lawrence argued that a landing on the Gulf of Alexandretta would have brought the war to a speedy conclusion.10

During the First World War, in correspondence with Henry MacMahon, the British high commissioner in Egypt, Sharif Hussein demanded the sanjak, as well as the territory all the way to the Taurus Mountains, in a future Arab state, but MacMahon rejected his demand on the grounds that the area under discussion could not be considered purely Arab.11

Atatürk had an early interest in the Sanjak. He expressed his reluctance to withdraw from the region at the end of the war because he was the group commandant of the Turkish armies in Syria and from there he transferred arms and munitions to Turkey proper. In fact, he had ordered his troops to shoot at the British if they attempted to occupy Alexandretta. He wrote a telegraph to the chief of staff in Istanbul expressing his reservations about the moderate policy pursued towards the British and asked to be relieved of his duties on the grounds that his character was not commensurate with following such orders in a proper manner.12

After the Turkish victory over the Greeks in Sakarya in 1921, the French were convinced that the nationalist movement in Turkey was the wave of the future as far as internal Turkish political developments were concerned. France thus became the first Western country to recognize the new Turkey within its national boundaries. The former


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chair of the French senate’s foreign relations committee, Henri Franklin-Bouillon, who was an influential figure in the French foreign policy establishment, signed the Ankara Agreement on 20 October 1921 together with the Turkish foreign minister Yusuf Kemal Tengirşenk. Franklin-Bouillon sympathized with the nationalist leadership and influenced his government in reaching a deal with Turkey.13 As far as the sanjak was concerned, Article 7 of Franklin-Bouillon’s agreement stipulated: ‘A special administrative regime shall be established for the district of Alexandretta. The Turkish inhabitants of this district shall enjoy every facility for their cultural development. The Turkish language shall have official recognition.’14 Articles 16 and 27, however, ‘divested’ Turkey of sovereign rights over the sanjak.15

The Ankara Agreement and its protocols provided wide-ranging autonomy for Hatay, which was recognized as a distinct entity. There was to be a special flag for the sanjak and there were to be Turkish civil servants in areas where Turks constituted the majority. In the port of Alexandretta, Turkish nationals and goods were to have complete freedom of access and a designated area was to be used for the goods to be transferred to Turkey.16

France agreed to evacuate the fertile Cilicia region, which included the cities of Adana, Mersin and their hinterland, as well as Hassa and Dörtyol, which were later to be attached to the province of Hatay in 1939. Mustafa Kemal defended this agreement in the Turkish Grand National Assembly, where there was opposition to it, by saying that ‘we have not retreated from our demands’ beyond the Turkish boundary as stipulated by this agreement. At a secret session of the Turkish parliament, he said that Turkey would eventually annex Hatay and that Turkey should initiate the establishment of a Turkish government. In fact, Atatürk’s interest in the region continued, for on 15 March 1923 he said in Adana that ‘a land which belonged to the Turks for forty centuries cannot remain in enemy hands.’17

As the Turkish War of Liberation came to a close, Turkey tried to consolidate its power and it agreed, through Article 3 of the Treaty of Lausanne of 1923, to keep the area in Syria under the French mandate. In other words, Turkey affirmed Article 8 of the 1921 Turkish–French agreement by the Lausanne treaty.18 Needless to say, Turkish leaders did not believe that it was timely to undertake a campaign to liberate


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Hatay. Such an endeavour had to wait until the late 1930s. A number of parliamentarians and intellectuals expressed fierce opposition to the southern boundary the Treaty of Lausanne had delineated, for it left Alexandretta outside Turkey’s national boundaries. Many orators pointed out the significance of the region for Turkish security. Meanwhile, there were contacts between Kemalist Turkey and the resistance movement in northern Syria, which received arms and money from Turkey against France, which the Turkish and Arab nationalists regarded as the common enemy. So central was Turkish support to Syrian fighters that when Turkish support waned as a result of the Turco–French agreement of 1921, both the Ibrahim Hananu revolt in the north and the Alawite revolt around Latakia collapsed.19

Turkish nationalist activity was intense in the area, as manifested for example in the creation of the Turkish Hearth (Türk Ocağı) in 1914 by Abdurrahman Melek, the future prime minister of the republic of Hatay. Guerrillas supported by Turkey started anti-French resistance in the area in 1918 by attacking French garrisons and soldiers. Guerrilla warfare continued until 1921 when the guerrillas retreated back to Turkey because of increased French operations against them. Atatürk’s contacts with Turkish and pro-Turkish elements can best be illustrated by the telegraph sent to one of the Turkish leaders of Hatay, Tayfur Sökmen, to the effect that the sanjak was part of the National Pact.20 Atatürk, who is on record as saying that ‘Hatay is a personal matter for me’ also told the French ambassador in 1937 that he had no desire for territorial expansion, but that since he had publicly promised the restitution of the region, his failure would be a serious blow to his prestige in the eyes of the Turkish people.21 His special interest in the area might well be a function of his presence in the vicinity of Aleppo as the commanding officer in the last days of the First World War. He tried to prevent the Turkish evacuation of the area when the Treaty of Mudros was signed in 1918.22

In 1922, a delegation of Turks visited Atatürk to demand their incorporation into the motherland. They wanted him to put pressure on France to hold a plebiscite about the status of the sanjak, but Mustafa Kemal argued that the time was not opportune to seek such a policy. In 1923, local newspapers published in the southern province of Turkey insisted that the restitution of Hatay was essential because


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the Turks living there were experiencing fierce oppression from the French colonial authorities.23

In the early 1920s, guerrilla activity against the French was organized by Tayfur Sökmen, who initiated a series of attacks against French military posts. In November 1921, he personally met the president, as well as senior diplomats in the Turkish foreign ministry in Ankara,24 and hence became the leader of the Hatay resistance movement. In that meeting in 1921, Mustafa Kemal promised Sökmen that Hatay Turks would be liberated in the not too distant future.25 This clearly showed the early ambitions of the leader of Turkey as far as Hatay was concerned. The Turkish impact on the mobilization of local Turks was quite significant. We can stipulate that because of Turkish influence, in 1926 the sanjak parliament decided to declare independence but had to rescind its decision after pressure from the French authorities.26 This again demonstrated the pro-Turkish feeling existent in the district. It cannot, however, be denied that there were also Arab nationalists like Zaki al-Arsuzi, who demanded incorporation into Syria.

Again in 1926, the Turks opened a soccer club, Gençspor, as a venue from which to organize the Turks discreetly while avoiding attracting the attention of the authorities. In 1928 MPs from the sanjak insisted on speaking Turkish in the Syrian chamber. The 1929 campaign to read and write in the Latin alphabet was facilitated by newspapers such as Yeni Mecmua published in Antioch and Vahdet published in Aleppo, which were also influential in the dissemination of a Turkish national consciousness. The anniversary of the Turkish victory over the Greeks was celebrated on 30 August 1933 in Antioch with the participation of 2000 Turks. The Day of the Republic was also celebrated with considerable enthusiasm. Meanwhile, influenced by Kemalist Turkey, the number of people wearing European style hats increased substantially. The arrival of the Turkish governor of Antep, Akif İyidoğan, to the region in 1934 created enormous excitement among the Turks, and a crowd of 10,000 people assembled in Antioch to welcome him. The extent of the rally and pro-Turkish utterances at the meeting led the French authorities to fire the mayor.27

In 1936 Atatürk declared before the parliament that Turkey would pay special attention to Antioch and Alexandretta, which, he claimed,


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were genuine Turkish areas. He also decided that the name Hatay, which he himself coined to emphasize this characteristic of the area, was to be used. The name was derived from a Turkish state in Central Asia and it was related to the ancient Anatolian civilization of the Hittites. He assigned Tayfur Sökmen, the MP for Antalya, to facilitate and speed up activities regarding this region. He started organizing resistance in Dörtyol on the border of the sanjak. As propaganda intensified in the area, ‘people’s houses’ based on the Turkish model were opened in Hatay. Simultaneously, clashes with French soldiers led to the killing of two Turks in front of the Habib Neccar mosque in Antioch.28

Turkey’s initial position on Hatay, the official position defended at the League of Nations by the Turkish foreign minister Tevfik Rüştü Aras, was that it was to be an independent state. The French, however, said that the previous legal documents did not envisage independence for the sanjak.29 It was evident for most parties that independence for Alexandretta meant eventual annexation by Turkey as that was Turkey’s real objective anyway. For instance, the British Foreign Office was clearly of the opinion that independence for the sanjak meant eventual ‘absorption’ by Turkey.30

In January 1937 troops were massed towards the Syrian border and Atatürk began a visit to the southern region of the country. He met the prime minister, foreign minister, interior minister and chief of the general staff in Eskişehir. İsmet Inönü, the prime minister, dissuaded him from going any further south and advocated that he adopt a more cautious approach to the whole affair. The French viewed this incident with considerable concern because they only had 3000 troops in the sanjak.31 In other words, they had insufficient manpower to resist a prospective Turkish occupation.

As a result of Turco–French negotiations at the League of Nations, a resolution was passed on 27 January 1937 defining the sanjak as a separate entity with ‘full independence in its internal affairs’, but with Syria in charge of its foreign relations. Furthermore, there would be customs and monetary union between Syria and the sanjak. The League of Nations framed a statute and fundamental law recognizing the sanjak as a distinct entity with a chamber composed of 40 members, representing the diverse communities in the region. At the


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same time, France and Turkey guaranteed the sanjak’s security against external threats. The Syrian prime minister, Jamal Mardam, denounced this settlement as unacceptable at the Syrian chamber of deputies. The Syrian government protested, arguing that historically and linguistically the area belonged to Syria and he spelled out the economic com-plementarities between Alexandretta and Aleppo.32

However, there were still disagreements on the exact imple-mentation of the resolution and Atatürk’s attendance of two military parades in Mersin and Adana in May 1937 demonstrated his will to solve the Hatay question by force, if necessary, and impressed France that Turkey meant business.33 Of course, it is also possible to argue that he was posturing to France so they would be inclined to think that Turkey was ready to fight to recover Hatay.

Interior minister Şükrü Kaya drew to the attention of the prime minister’s office an article of 14 June 1937 in the Greek newspaper Katimerini about Atatürk’s interruption of his visit to Anatolia. The newspaper commented that this interruption was caused by the rowdiness of the Syrians about the Hatay question.34 It was obvious that the Greek press was following the Hatay issue closely.

Following the decision of the council of the League of Nations, President Atatürk congratulated the government and expressed his view that it was the right decision to leave this question to the league, for it would serve world peace by strengthening the League of Nations’ power. The prime minister responded by saying that Turkey was one of the pillars of international peace and security and that this ‘national cause’ was being pursued without offending ‘our neighbours’.35 The Turkish political elite seemed oblivious of the extent of the hostility among Syrians over the Turkish policy on Hatay. According to the military agreement signed between France and Turkey on 3 July 1938, there was to be an equal number of troops in the sanjak from the two countries. The next day Turkish troops entered the sanjak under the command of Colonel Şükrü Kanatlı.36 This was the beginning of the Franco–Turkish condominium leading to the joint administration of Hatay.37

Turkish–French negotiations about the latter’s evacuation were gridlocked by the French demand to keep a symbolic troop presence in Hatay and, consequently, the Turkish commander in the region


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requested from the chief of staff the authority to use force to implement the French withdrawal. The prime minister ordered the military to refrain from such a course of action.38

Finally, all the complications were resolved as France wanted to prevent Turkey joining Germany and Italy in Europe and to keep it neutral in the war that was looming over the continent.39 For France, the sanjak was ‘expendable’ because the Second World War was on the horizon and its security in Europe and in the eastern Mediterranean dictated concessions on this issue.40 In return for this concession, France obtained a non-aggression pact from Turkey, mainly aimed at the Axis powers – Germany and Italy.41

The Arab and Turkish Communities in Hatay There were two ‘competing nationalisms’ in the sanjak between the Turks and Arabs. Students, educated in Turkey and Syria respectively contributed to the polarization in the region by advocating Kemalist and Arab nationalist ideas.42 For instance, Abdurrahman Melek, who served as governor from 6 July 1938 until the declaration of independence of the Hatay state, pointed out the existence of intercommunal fighting and argued that Zaki al-Arsuzi was provoking the Alawites in the sanjak.43

There was lack of agreement about the population of Hatay. According to Turkish estimates based on the Ottoman census of 1914, in 1921 out of a population of 185,000, around 100,000 were Turks. The French numbered 87,000 Turks for the year 1921 and 70,000 for 1933. The Turkish government’s position was that Turks constituted ‘a considerable majority of the population of Sanjak’. In correspondence between France and Britain, the former declared that the majority of the people living in the region were Turkish speakers and the French ambassador in Ankara, René Massigli concurred that most of the populace of the region was Turkish.44

In the 1930s, the Turkish press claimed that out of a population of 300,000, 240,000 were Turks, 20,000 Sunni Arabs and 25,000 Armenians. French statistics gave a different figure: they held that out of a population of 220,000, 85,000 were Turks, 62,000 were Alawis, 25,000 were Armenians, 22,000 were Sunni Arabs and 18,000 belonged to ‘other Christian sects’.45 At any rate, Turks constituted if not the


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vast majority of the population, as the Turkish government argued, at least the plurality of the population. While there were more Arabic speakers than Turkish speakers,46 this did not automatically translate into a political allegiance to one camp or the other. When one takes into consideration the fact that many Armenians speak Turkish as their first or second language, the picture becomes even more blurred.

It was evident that the ethnic/religious/linguistic divide was highly fragmented. In Antioch, the Turks constituted 58 per cent of the population, whereas they were a small minority in the city of Alexandretta, according to French reports. Alawites made up 15 per cent of the population of Antioch and Arabic speakers were a majority in Alexandretta. Interestingly, all Alawites and Armenians spoke fluent Turkish. The Turks were large landowners and influential among the rich traders. They also dominated the ulema. The Alawites, on the other hand, were mostly farmers and workers.47

For the election of the Syrian chamber in 1932, four Turks, three Alawites, two Christian Arabs, two Sunni Arabs and one Armenian were elected to represent the sanjak.48 These numbers also prove the point that the Turkish presence in and influence over the district was substantial.

The Turkish populace in Hatay was much better organized and better educated than the Arabic population, which was more prone to division because of confessional cleavages among Alawite Arabs and a small number of Sunni and Christian Arabs. Despite this situation, there were landowners among the Turks and members of the ulema who, because of their reserved attitude towards the modernizing reforms of Atatürk, preferred autonomy within Syria to joining Turkey. Opposed to them were Kemalists who preferred either independence for Hatay or outright incorporation into Turkey. Among the Arabs, the Alawites and Christians preferred autonomy rather than joining the Sunni-dominated Syrian state. The Armenians also agreed with these two communal groups. Lastly, Sunni Arabs were more prone to unite with Syria.49

The registration of the populace for the upcoming elections increased Arab-Turkish animosity as each individual was free to register for the ethnic/religious community to which he claimed to belong. Turks and Arabs tried to persuade the Alawites to register for


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their community. Turks approached the Turkish-speaking Alawites and tried to convince them with arguments about secularism that were likely to appeal to them. In an attempt to convince the Alawites to register as Turks, in the 1930s Turkey started a campaign to bring home the message that the Alawis hailed from an Eti (Hittite) Turkish background. During this tense atmosphere, clashes erupted from time to time between the two communities, which were organized by Zaki al-Arsuzi, who was instrumental in organizing demonstrations with Arab youth.50

Ihsan Mürsel, the chairman of the People’s House in Reyhaniye, reported that ten Turks who came to participate in the elections were arrested by the local authorities and gendarmerie in Hamam and the Arabs were placed in their houses. Those who were arrested were sent to the prison in Aleppo.51

The Turkish consul general in Antioch, Celal Tevfik Karasapan, reported on 9 July 1938 that Turks living in Bayir and Bucak were complaining that the Syrian authorities were putting pressure on the villagers to refrain from wearing hats and reading books and news-papers in the Latin script and, most importantly, to sign petitions to the effect that they did not want the restitution of the sanjak to Turkey. The consul general asked the Turkish foreign ministry to take measures that would end this ‘oppression and pressure’ that has increased in the last three to four months.52 His report on 18 June 1938 is significant in that it demonstrates that both Arab nationalists and Turkish nationalists were cajoling all the ethnic groups to enlist for the Arab and Turkish lists respectively. The Greek Orthodox villagers of lower Kuseyr, as well as the Turkish villages of that region, showed an inclination to enlist as Turks. The chairman of the People’s House, Abdülgani Kuseyr, and Mustafa Bereket also tried to convince Sunni Arabs to register as Turks.53 The British Foreign Office had information that agents were sent from Turkey to influence the political balance in favour of Turks.54

Karasapan also expressed his concern about the local gendarmerie, which was composed of Syrians, Alawites and Armenians. He showed particular concern about the gendarmerie in the city of Alexandretta, which was composed wholly of Arab Orthodox people, Armenians and Alawites, and he reported the complaint of one Turkish


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commander about this situation. He also reported that Turkish infantry had entered the town of Reyhaniye after an agreement was made between the French and Turkish governments.55 It should be emphasized, however, that the Turks were in fact overrepresented among the rural gendarmes, where in 1931 they accounted for 62 per cent and 55 per cent of the police. The battalion on the border, however, contained no Turks, but was made up of Alawites and Armenians.56

The registration was completed on 1 August 1938 according to which the Turks were allocated 22 MPs. The Alawites were allocated nine seats in the Hatay parliament, the Armenians five, the Greek Orthodox two and the Sunni Arabs two. The Legislative Assembly met on 2 September and accepted the name Hatay for the republic, which was declared on that day. It adopted Kemalism as the ideology of the state. Tayfur Sökmen was elected as the president of the Hatay republic and Antioch was selected as the capital of the state. The Latin script had already been accepted and the Turkish national anthem became Hatay’s anthem as well. A flag akin to the Turkish flag was devised. Throughout January to March 1939 Turkish law and currency were also accepted.57 Thus, the destination of Hatay was becoming more and more obvious and its accession to Turkey was becoming inevitable. The Hatay republic lasted from 2 September 1938 until 23 July 1939. The speaker of the parliament was Abdulgani Türkmen and the prime minister Abdurrahman Melek. The constitution accepted on 6 September 1938 stipulated that the Hatay state was a republic based on the Turkish majority.58

At the international level, the Soviet Union, Greece, Yugoslavia and, importantly, Britain supported Turkey’s bid for the annexation of Hatay. They all believed that the priority at that moment was the looming German and Italian danger over Europe.59 Hatay was a small price to pay for Turkish support in the war. The telegraph the French foreign minister Georges Bonnet sent to Ambassador René Massigli on 5 May 1939 specifies that France agreed to the Turkish annexation of Hatay in an attempt to convince that country to become an ally.60 The French foreign minister mentioned that the Turks were the overwhelming majority in the region; therefore, it was only logical to return the area to Turkey in return for that country joining Britain and France in the


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defence of Europe. On 19 October 1939 a tripartite mutual assistance treaty was signed in Ankara. At the same meeting Turkish foreign minister Şükrü Saraçoğlu and the ambassador René Massigli agreed to the restitution of Hatay to Turkey by 23 July. On 29 June 1939 the Hatay Assembly met for the last time and approved the decision to join Turkey. On 23 July Hatay became Turkey’s sixty-third province.61

President İsmet Inönü sent a message to the prime minister Dr Refik Saydam congratulating him for the treaty that would lead to the successful incorporation of ‘Hatay into the motherland’ and for the amalgamation of a policy of ‘peace and security’ with ‘national honour and interest’. He added that the republican government had earned the highest appreciation of the Turkish nation.62 The Syrian government vigorously protested against this decision. There was a broad consensus of opinion in Syria that it was an illegal act in that France had disposed of a territory that did not in fact belong to it.63

One Syrian commentator referred to Alexandretta as part of northern Syria and lamented its loss, together with the loss of Palestine, which was part of southern Syria. He considered Turkey’s annexation immoral and illegal, for it violated the charter of the mandate and the Franklin-Bouillon agreement of 20 October 1921.64 Sanjian agreed that Article 4 of the Charter of the Mandate explicitly envisaged that ‘the Mandatory shall be responsible for seeing that no part of the territory of Syria and Lebanon is ceded or leased or in any way placed under the control of a foreign power.’ A French jurist, Georges Scelle, labelled France’s consent to the annexation of Hatay by Turkey as an ‘illegal act’.65

The Syrian press was highly critical of the loss of ‘Arab’ Alexan-dretta and actively campaigned for its liberation.66 One Syrian commentator argued that Turkey’s interest in the region was strategic rather than affection for the Turks living in Hatay, and that the control of the region, including the port of Alexandretta and Beilan pass, were essential for assuring the security of the Turkish state.67 Philip Khoury concurs by pointing out that Turkey’s interest in the region was shaped by its desire to control the Gulf of Alexandretta and one piece of evidence that could be given to support this point was the stopping of the enlargement of a port in the southern city of Mersin in 1934, with the implication that Turkey was hoping for a quick recovery of


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Hatay.68 While it is hard to tell the exact reasons for this state of affairs, it is premature to presume that it was inevitable to assume that Turkey would recover Hatay at such an early date.

The loss of Hatay drastically lowered the prestige of the national bloc and of Prime Minister Jamal Mardam in Syria. However, throughout the 1930s he was more concerned about obtaining a treaty from France, thus guaranteeing Syrian independence, than about the fate of Alexandretta.69 While there was no official demand for the return of Hatay, there were instead rather sporadic statements about the concern of Syrians as intellectuals continued to draw attention to the Arab character of Hatay.

Syrian concern with the Hatay region intensified in the aftermath of the Second World War as there were hopes for the redemption of this area. In 1947 a decision by a Syrian court to the effect that a Turkish citizen who had entered Syria without a valid passport did not violate the law because he was travelling within Syria70 demonstrated that irredentism reigned supreme among many quarters in Syria. To this day, Hatay is depicted as part of Syria on official maps in Syria.

Turkey only recognized Syria on 6 March 1946 when Iraqi foreign minister Nuri al-Said worked as an intermediary between Turkey and Syria and obtained assurances from the former not to insist that Syria recognize the incorporation of Hatay and from Syria not to make any official claims on the territory.71 Syrians have not officially demanded the retrocession of the area to Syria. In fact, they have not brought the issue to the United Nations or to the Arab League and it seems that they have ‘resigned themselves to the fait accompli’.72

In the 1953 Syrian elections many candidates asked for the return of Alexandretta to Syria. Every year the Bath Party would draw attention to the injustice done to Syria as a result of the amputation of the sanjak from it. The student demonstrations in Aleppo in 1955 openly called for the restoration of Syrian sovereignty to Hatay. The calls for the restoration of the region were often accompanied by territorial demands for the lands all the way to the Taurus Mountains.73 In fact, there seemed to be a consensus among politicians, intellectuals, students and ordinary people that Syria should reclaim Hatay.

Hatay stands out as a policy of irredentism in Turkish political history. We can argue that when the conditions are opportune, Turkey


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does not miss an opportunity to expand its territory towards the unredeemed areas of the National Pact. Since Hatay was perceived as part of the National Pact, its acquisition was portrayed as rejoining the motherland. Regarding Hatay, Atatürk said that he made a promise to the Turkish nation that he would one day liberate the region. Furthermore, he said that he could not lose a political fight and if he were to lose this one he could not continue to live.74 For Atatürk, the fight for Hatay seemed to be a personal as well as a national struggle.

Similarities between the political development of the Turks of Hatay and the political development of the Turkish Cypriots are remarkable. While Hatay was within the borders of the National Pact, Cyprus was never included in the pact, which might explain the reason for the non-annexation of the island. That being said, however, there were territories such as Batumi in Georgia, Western Thrace in Greece and Mosul in Iraq that were specifically mentioned and included in the National Pact, but that the Kemalist state let go for reasons of expediency or because it lacked the power to regain them. This state of affairs makes it essential to explain Turkey’s involvement in the sanjak and in Cyprus in the light of the fact that there was little action in the other areas besides Mosul. Even in Mosul, however, the action only lasted until 1926 when the League of Nations gave the region to Iraq.

The Turkish army was in control of Mosul when the Mudros armistice was signed. In fact, the British occupied the area 16 days after the signature, which was in contravention of the terms of the agreement. As there was a lack of agreement between Turkey and Britain regarding Mosul at the Lausanne conference, the parties agreed to allow the League of Nations to mediate. A committee appointed by the League proposed in September 1925 that the region should be ceded to Iraq and that the British mandate over Iraq should continue. Turkey agreed to this recommendation by signing a treaty on 5 June 1926, with Britain acceding to the absorption of Mosul into the British mandated Iraq.75

Turkish failure in obtaining Mosul was a result of the presence of oil in the region, which made Britain reluctant to relinquish the territory to Turkey, whereas in Hatay there was no such strategic commodity.76 Furthermore, during the Mosul crisis, Turkey had still not consolidated its power. True, it was a victorious state, having


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modified the peace treaty imposed on it by the Allies, but it lacked the willingness to continue the fight against a major power. Risking war with Britain was viewed by the political establishment in Turkey as hazardous adventurism.

The similarity between Hatay Turks and Cypriot Turks stems from the fact that Turkey lost both territories, the former in 1918 and the latter in 1878, but the Turks residing in both areas never lost interest in their motherland and voluntarily adopted the Kemalist reforms. These included using the Latin alphabet, wearing European style outfits but most importantly accepting the Kemalist version of Turkish nationalism. The Cypriots also tried to rejoin Turkey, but failed in this endeavour. Turkey’s involvement in the two areas was a function of a number of international, bilateral and domestic factors, which allowed for possible action in the future if those conditions were satisfied. Similarly, interest in northern Iraq and with the fate of Turkmen residing there seems to stem from strategic and ideational concerns that can lead to a more activist Turkey should the above conditions provide a window of opportunity.

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5 Turkey’s National Cause:

Cyprus in Turkish Foreign Policy

The Cyprus conflict between the Greek and Turkish Cypriot communities and their respective motherlands, Greece and Turkey, has lasted for the last half century. Turkey’s involvement in Cyprus is usually presented as an exception to the pragmatic and reasonable foreign policy1 that Turkey has followed for the last 80 years.

Turkey’s active foreign policy towards Cyprus from the 1950s onwards sharply contrasts with its previous lack of interest in the affairs of the island and its peaceful policy eschewing the use of force in its conduct of foreign affairs. As discussed in the previous chapter, however, looming military power might have played a role in the resolution of the Hatay conflict. When constructing a nationalist historiography, policy makers in Turkey defined Turkish involvement in the affairs of the island since the 1950s and the military intervention in 1974 not as irredentism but as saving Turkish Cypriots from genocide. Therefore, for this reason, the prime minister of the time, Bülent Ecevit, specifically labelled the 1974 military operation the ‘Peace Operation’. There were some claims in the Turkish media that, as a result of this operation, the Greek Cypriots obtained peace; moreover, mainland Greece returned to democracy as a result of the junta’s failure in the Cyprus affair, which culminated in the resignation of the generals and their replacement by a civilian government.

I shall start this chapter by discussing the intricacies of the Cyprus dispute, highlighting Turkey’s involvement in Cyprus in the 1950s and emphasizing the two rival forms of nationalisms that existed on the island. I shall use the newly-opened documents from Prime Ministry State Archives to shed light on Turkey’s evolving interest in Cyprus. I


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shall conclude this analysis by considering the significance of Cyprus for Turkish foreign policy. The special position of the island for Turkey, I would argue, is partially constructed according to the dictates of nationalism existent in Kemalist state identity. As discussed in Chapter 2, the creation of a nation-state based on Turkish history and culture was the main preoccupation of the Kemalist project. In this sense, the definition of the state as Turkish brought certain responsibilities, such as the promotion of Turkish history and language internally through the establishment of a number of historical and linguistic institutes and externally through protecting the rights of former Turkish subjects.

Nationalism on its own cannot explain political phenomena. It is necessary to analyse ‘the varieties of nationalism’ – nationalism as official ideology, nationalism aimed at changing political boundaries, separatist nationalism and anti-colonial nationalism. Greek and Turkish Cypriot nationalisms entailed a struggle against the colonial ruler, Britain, as well as sectarianism against each other and regionalism through the presentation of Cyprus as part of Greece2 or Turkey, depending on the perception of the relevant community in question. The relevance of Turkish and Greek Cypriot nationalisms to my study is that they were influenced by and influenced the nationalism of their motherlands.

The Greek side, despite talk about a federation between the two communities, desired a unitary state, whereas the Turks, again despite official talk about a federation, wanted a confederation with as much autonomy as possible. Today there is the possibility of a bicommunal, bizonal federal republic as a solution to the Cyprus conflict. However, the lack of trust between the two communities and their reluctance to allow complete freedom of movement and settlement necessitated the establishment of two separate but associated states so as to prevent the ethnic conflict that has characterized the Balkans, Middle East, Caucasus and Central Asia.

The Cyprus problem demonstrated that there was a strong senti-mental attachment among the populace of Turkey to Turks living outside the Turkish state. This, together with the proximity of the island to the mainland, encouraged the government to renounce its non-activist and non-expansionist foreign policy and become involved

TURKEY’S NATIONAL CAUSE

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in the controversy. Also, that historical animosity has existed between Greeks and Turks3 since the 1821 Greek revolution/insurrection, contributed to the intensity of the Cyprus conflict. Turks continuously lost territory to the Greeks from that date until 1913, when the second Balkan War ended. The Atatürk–Venizelos rapprochement of the 1930s should be perceived more as a temporary truce than as the establish-ment of close cooperation on the model of France and Germany within the EU framework.

Hence, a combination of nationalism and security considerations played a part in shaping Turkish policy towards Cyprus. The perception of Greeks as a ‘national enemy’ that had to be prevented from grabbing another strategic island off the coast of Turkey was a key factor among common people and this in turn influenced the Turkish policy makers. Whereas strategic considerations were more influential in government circles, the plain anti-Greek sentiments of the people at large carried far more weight than any sophisticated arguments about strategic interests.4 This point is particularly striking given that the twenty-plus years of Greek–Turkish friendship that Atatürk and Venizelos initiated in the 1930s seems to have failed to take root among the respective peoples residing on the two shores of the Aegean Sea.

An easier international environment, coupled with the British decision to deploy a Turkish Cypriot counter force to help contain Greek activism on the island, allowed Turkey to become more actively involved in the 1950s. Britain traditionally followed a policy of divide and rule in its colonies and, to a large extent, it relied on Turkish Cypriots as recruits for the police force. Furthermore, making Turkey a party to the conflict contained Greek expansionist demands on Cyprus. Throughout the 1960s, Turkey was dissuaded from intervening in the island because both superpowers, the USA and the USSR, were against such an eventuality. The Americans, in particular, were worried that a war in Cyprus would destroy NATO’s southern flank. Furthermore, the Soviets were already cooperating closely with Archbishop Makarios, the president of Cyprus, which exacerbated the Americans’ suspicions. The climate in the 1970s, however, allowed Turkey to seize the opportunity to rescue its fellow Turks and to establish a position on the island, thereby guaranteeing


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it free access to its southern ports to the Mediterranean. In other words, the Turks perceived their action as having prevented the threat before it actually materialized.

In defining the national interest, there was a consensus over the whole spectrum from left to right that Turkey had to take more interest in Cypriot affairs. It is interesting to point out that the 1974 intervention was carried out by a social democrat–Islamist coalition government. It should also be added that between 1964 and 1974 Turkey developed boats that could be used in amphibious operations, so by the latter date Turkey had gained more confidence and was militarily stronger. Turkey and Turkish Cypriots were united over the Cyprus issue, whereas Greeks were divided between the followers of former Prime Minister Konstantinos Karamanlis, the socialist Yorgos Papandreu and the military. The Greek Cypriots were divided between President Makarios and Colonel Grivas.

The consensus in Turkey included not only such domestic actors as the military and the foreign ministry, the two most important institutions within the bureaucracy, but also major daily newspapers such as Hürriyet, professors, university students and the Anatolian masses. In fact, it was this national consensus – fortified by the special role that Rauf Denktaş took in lobbying all the various elements – that led to governmental action on Cyprus. In other words, the common people and the media were ahead of the government as far as taking an interest in Cyprus was concerned. Domestic actors were as important as the international system in the formulation of Turkish policy towards Cyprus.

It is clear that the press and public channelled nationalism to influ-ence the bureaucracy and political parties. Prime Minister Adnan Menderes and Foreign Minister Fatin Rüştü Zorlu were important players of Cyprus politics throughout the 1950s. Even though the military junta hanged Zorlu along with Menderes in 1961, it also followed a hawkish policy towards Cyprus, particularly after 1963 when it became evident that the Republic of Cyprus (ROC) was no longer feasible. In the 1970s, Bülent Ecevit was a key personality in the decision to send troops to the island. And, of course, Turkish Cypriot leader Rauf Denktaş was probably one of the most important people on the Turkish side because, from the 1960s onwards, it was he who was responsible


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for influencing and convincing the Turkish leaders of the significance of Cyprus.

Cyprus: A Violent Legacy William Shakespeare in Othello described Cyprus as being strategically located in the eastern Mediterranean. Numerous peoples, including Hittites, Egyptians, Romans, Lusignans, Venetians and Turks have ruled it. The Ottoman Turks conquered it in 1570–71 and ruled it until 1878, when British rule started. Britain obtained the island in return for a promise to protect the Ottoman Empire against Russia, but sovereignty remained in the hands of the Ottoman Empire. During the First World War, England annexed the island and declared it a crown colony in 1925.5

With the treaty of Lausanne in 1923, Turkey renounced its sovereign rights over Cyprus.6 Therefore, legally and politically, Turkey gave up all its claims on the island and this remained so until the 1950s. To reiterate one point, Cyprus was neither mentioned in the founding documents of the republic, such as the National Pact and Treaty of Lausanne, nor did it appear in the official statements of the political leaders.

Throughout British rule, Greek nationalism intensified in Cyprus, propagated mostly by the teachers sent from Greece and the Greek Orthodox clergy, who were ardent supporters Enosis, namely the unification of the island with Greece.7 Greek diplomatic representatives were also active in the spread of Greek nationalism in Cyprus. For example, the consul general of Greece in Larnaca, Ionnes Philemon, was active in the organization of pro-enosis demonstrations and attacks on the island, which in turn led to a letter of protest from Britain to Greece. As a result of his activities, which were not commensurate with his diplomatic status, and because of British pressure on the Greek government, the Greek consul general was withdrawn from the island in February 1900.8 Another example of interference by Greek consuls was reported by the British governor, Ronald Storrs, who informed his government about the role of the Greek consul, Alexis Kyrou, in the events leading up to the Greek Cypriot uprising of 1931.9

British premier William Gladstone introduced a constitution to the


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island in 1882, along with a legislative council. There were six appointed members of the council and twelve elected members, nine Greeks and three Turks. The high commissioner had his own vote and presided over the council. In 1925, when Cyprus became a Crown Colony, the number of Greek parliamentarians was raised to twelve and the number of official delegates was increased to nine. The number of Turkish members remained the same. The council became an arena for Enosis claims by the Greek Cypriots and anti-Enosis arguments by the Turkish Cypriots. As a result of the Greek insurrection in 1931, the legislative council was closed down and British colonial authorities ruled the island without any form of representation until 1960.10

Greek Cypriot nationalism was intensifying under British rule, whereas Turkish Cypriot nationalism was being shaped as a reaction to the claims of Enosis. As early as 1893, the mufti told the high commissioner that as far as the Muslim population was concerned Cyprus was still part of the Ottoman Empire and that they, the Muslims, strongly opposed Enosis. At the same time, there were ethnic clashes between Greeks and Turks in Limassol in 1912.11 These confrontations were the manifestations of two rival claims over Cyprus.

Turkish Cypriot identification, first with the Ottoman Empire, then with the Turkish republic, continued unabated. Between 1889 and 1891 Saded and other Turkish newspapers published articles against Enosis. In 1903 the Cypriot parliament passed a resolution demanding unification with Greece. Derviş Paşa, a MP who was absent in that session, countered that if the British were to evacuate the island, it should be returned to its previous sovereign. The national congress, which the Turks convened in Nicosia in December 1918, explicitly rejected Enosis and demanded reincorporation into the Ottoman Empire. Turkish Cypriots, while resisting the Enosis claims, also continued to monitor developments in Turkey. For example, when İzmir was liberated from the Greeks on 9 September 1922, the Turks celebrated in front of the governor’s office in Nicosia.12

The voluntary adoption of Kemalist reforms by Turkish Cypriots was remarkable. Turkish Cypriot schools adopted the Latin script in 1929 and, in line with the Kemalist reforms in Turkey, the language


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was purified of Arabic and Persian words. The Turkish community celebrated Turkish victories against the Greeks and the Turkish Cypriots adopted the Turkish national holidays of 23 April, 30 August and 29 October as their own. Turkish consuls in Cyprus actively promoted the dissemination of Turkish nationalism, according to British intelligence. The Kemalist regime financially supported the newspapers Ses and Söz, and they became the foremost advocates of Kemalist reforms.13 In other words, the Turkish Cypriots continued to operate as a cultural-political extension of the mainland.

In 1930, the national congress convened once again and demanded that Kemalist reforms be implemented in Cyprus. In the same year, the Kemalist Necati Özkan won a seat in the legislative council. The Kemalists had close contacts with the Turkish consul general, Asaf, and worked against the traditional collaborationist elite led by Sir Münir.14

During the Second World War, the Turkish prime minister, Şükrü Saraçoğlu, attended a meeting with Anthony Eden in Cyprus to discuss the ongoing war. Turkish Cypriots welcomed and cheered the Turkish prime minister. During the Second World War the community also made donations to the Turkish army.15 In other words, the close association of Turkish Cypriots with Turkey was uninterrupted throughout the twentieth century.

There were sporadic contacts between Turkish Cypriots and the Turkish government even before the late 1950s. Like the Hatay Turks, the Turkish Cypriots wanted the support of their motherland for their national cause; they thought that it would prevent the unification of the island with Greece (Enosis). On the other hand, at the time the Turkish government had still not decided what course it would follow in Cyprus and, as a result of this ambiguity, the Turkish Cypriots received ambivalent answers from Turkish politicians to their questions about their support or lack of it.

One example of these Cypriot endeavours is a letter a Turkish Cypriot leader, Necati Özkan, wrote in February 1939 requesting printing machines to publish a newspaper that was loyal to the national cause. He accused rival newspapers of being pro-British and expressed his intention to publish a newspaper that would protect the rights of the Turkish community.16 Another such example would be Derviş


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Manizade’s visit to the nationalist minister of education, Hamdullah Suphi Tanrıöver, in 1945. He received a cold reception and the visiting delegation was told that Turkey had no interest in territories beyond the National Pact and that all Turkish Cypriots were expected to migrate to Anatolia.17

Turkish Cypriot leader, Dr Fazıl Küçük, informed President Inönü that 15,000 Turks had demonstrated in Nicosia against Enosis on 28 November 1948. He pointed out that the annexation of Cyprus by Greece would mean the annihilation of the Turks.18

The arrival in Cyprus of Hasene Ilgaz, the Turkish parliamentarian from the mainland, caused excitement among the Turkish community on the island. Her reminiscences about the island demonstrate how closely Turkish Cypriots followed the reforms on the mainland. While it was still possible for Cypriot men to practise polygamy, most of them wanted to follow secular Turkey and to eradicate this stipulation from the law of the land. The parliamentarian particularly mentioned the special role teachers and newspapers played in the dissemination of Turkism in Cyprus.19

Identity and Nationalism in Cyprus In Cyprus, two rival nationalisms clashed with each other, which were very much influenced by Greece and Turkey, culminating in the desire of both national communities to be incorporated into their respective motherlands.20 This lack of a common political ideal and rivalry over the same piece of territory in the name of the motherlands was the main reason for the eruption of the Cyprus dispute. Enosis was closely related to the Great Ideal (or Megali Idea) to resurrect the Byzantine Empire. Not only did this ideal define both mainland and Greek Cypriot forms of Hellenic nationalism, but the Greek Orthodox Church21 also adopted it.

The Turks were worried that Cyprus would be lost to Greece, in much the same way as military and diplomatic manoeuvres had captured Crete.22 As far as Cyprus was concerned, the Greeks worried that the Hatay process was underway. As discussed in Chapter 4, Hatay was gradually incorporated into Turkey, so the Greeks both from the mainland and on the island were worried about creeping annexation.


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To reiterate, both Greek Cypriot and Turkish Cypriot nationalisms were influenced by their respective mainlands and developed as annexationist nationalisms. In other words, their aim was for the island to unite with their mainland. Turkish Cypriot nationalism developed as a contra-nationalism to prevent enosis.23 However, that is only part of the story. As mentioned above, Turkish Cypriots clung to their Turkish identity, not only to counter enosis but also to give meaning to their identity and to keep their relations with the mainland alive.

One example of the separation between the two national com-munities was the existence of separate schools for Turks and Greeks. Separate curricula to cover Turkey and Greece were followed in Turkish Cypriot and Greek Cypriot schools. There was little or no intermarriage between the two ethnic groups and they flew the flags of their motherlands at their institutions. There was no national anthem for the Republic of Cyprus, which was established in 1960, so the two communities played the national anthems of Greece and Turkey. It would therefore be correct to say that ethnic politics continued during the Republic of Cyprus era. All these divisions were the function of the lack of a single Cypriot culture. The conflicting nationalisms of the two communities quite naturally had separate objectives: the Greeks demanded union with Greece (enosis) and the Turks desired partition (taksim) of the island and the annexation of the Turkish sector by Turkey. In fact, nobody wanted independence for Cyprus as their first preference, and the Republic of Cyprus emerged as a compromise solution.24

The fact of the matter is that there never was a Cypriot nation25 and the two nations living on the island perceived themselves as extensions of the Turkish and Greek nations. Conscious of their national identity and the larger nations to which they belonged, Greek Cypriots and Turkish Cypriots had no overarching Cypriot identity but rather looked upon themselves as Greeks and Turks who happened to reside in Cyprus.26 Throughout the Ottoman Empire, Greeks preserved their national identity through the millet system, which granted autonomy to religious groups in their internal affairs, including worship and education, provided the head of the millet collected the necessary taxes for the Ottoman sultan. The Greeks were the favoured nation in the empire when compared with other minorities, since all


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the other Orthodox nations belonged to the Greek Orthodox millet, in which the Greek language and culture predominated.

To reiterate, there was little intermarriage and identification between Greeks and Turks, be it under Ottoman rule, British administration or under the Republic of Cyprus. They had separate school systems guided by the motherlands, different national holidays, with Greeks celebrating the revolution of 1821 that provided independence to Greece from the Ottoman Empire and the Turks celebrating the Turkish revolution of 1923, they belonged to separate political parties and they read separate newspapers. Similarly, besides the Cyprus flag, Turkish or Greek flags were flown by Turks and Greeks. The Republic of Cyprus with its quotas for different ethnic groups continued this tradition of linguistic, religious, political and cultural differentiation. There was no Cypriot culture on which to base a stable political community.27 Hence, it is possible to argue that there were two rival nations and nationalisms on the island of Cyprus and that reconciliation between these two opposing claims was extremely difficult.28 It can of course be argued that the Republic of Cyprus that existed between 1960 and 1963 could have provided such a formula, but it was unsatisfactory to the Greeks, who made it impossible for the proper functioning of that polity.

The political aim of Greek Cypriot nationalism was to unite with Greece. However, the contemporary position of Greek Cypriot nationalists is no longer enosis but the preservation of Cyprus as a Greek Cypriot state. One scholar argued that the enosis claim subsided with the 1974 ‘disaster’ and was replaced by Cypriotism. Divergence from Greece also accelerated with the Turkish intervention. Emphasis on Cypriot symbolisms became manifest, for instance the flag of the Republic of Cyprus was seen on a massive scale on public buildings and in the streets. Cypriotism was defined as Cyprus having a sui generis culture with commonalities between the two communities. Politically, Cyprus should be viewed as distinct from both Greece and Turkey. This idea neither claims that a Cypriot nation exists nor denies that there are ethnic Turks and Greeks on the island. This form of nationalism can be defined as civic and anti-ethnic as opposed to Greek ethno-nationalism. According to Mavratsas, this form of nationalism got the upper hand in the Greek Cypriot sector from 1974 up to the mid-1980s. Then Greek Cypriot nationalism in its modified


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form became supreme, which continues to see the Turks as a minority and wants to preserve Cyprus as Greek.29

Modern Greek nationalism can be defined as constituting a synthesis of Heleno-Christian civilization, although the marriage between the Orthodox faith and Greek nationalism is a modern development.30 This phenomenon can be compared with the Turkish-Islamic synthesis ideology discussed in Chapter 2. In both cases, we see an amalgamation of religion and nationalism, with the special role of the nation as the defender of the faith.

Turkish Cypriot nationalism started before Turkey became involved in Cyprus in the 1950s. It evolved as a reaction to demands for enosis and to the British colonial administration. It tried to involve Turkey in Cyprus affairs, for Turkey was reluctant to get involved in the fate of Turks living outside its boundaries. This was evident from statements by Republican People’s Party foreign minister Necmettin Sadak, and the Democratic Party’s foreign minister Professor Fuat Köprülü to the effect that Turkey had no Cyprus problem. Nationalism among Turkish Cypriots developed by emulating Atatürk’s reforms and by trying to establish close contacts with the motherland. The national identity of Turkish Cypriots and their consciousness of being a people were very much defined in terms of Atatürk’s nationalism coupled with some pan-Turkist symbolisms such as the grey wolf.31

Turkish Cypriot identity, while closely identified with the mainland, also expressed its peculiarities. In fact, one could quite plausibly argue that identity was situational to the extent that Turkish Cypriots considered themselves as Turks when they were in Cyprus, to differentiate themselves from the Greek Cypriots, as Cypriots when they were in Turkey, to differentiate themselves from the mainland Turks, and again as Turkish when they were in a European setting.32

While identity in Cyprus is to a large extent defined as either Greek or Turkish, it is important to take into account the existence of ‘regional provincialism’ in both communities. Cyprus had a different historical trajectory from both mainlands. A feeling of superiority towards the mainlanders is common among both Greeks and Turks on the island. The existence of Greek Cypriot and Turkish Cypriot dialects also reinforces the separateness of Greek Cypriots from


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mainland Greeks and of Turkish Cypriots from mainland Turks. Cypriot consciousness was not expressed on the political plane and to argue, as Attalides did,33 that it existed at the personal level is irrelevant because it had no political impact.

Attalides argues that after 1967 the Greek Cypriots made no real attempt to achieve enosis, but he also admits that there was neither any pro-independence ideology nor any efforts made to reintegrate the Turks into the political system. Instead, politicians issued statements demanding unification with Greece. By this time Archbishop Makarios and the Progressive Party of Working People (Anorthotikó Kómma Ergazómenou Laoú or AKEL) were convinced that enosis was ‘desirable but not possible’ in the foreseeable future. George Grivas and the National Organization of Cypriot Fighters (Ethniki Organosis Kyprion Agoniston or EOKA) on the other hand, wanted immediate enosis.34

AKEL, which was established in 1941 and is in effect the Communist Party of Cyprus, was a pro-Soviet party. Despite the Soviet Union’s opposition to enosis, AKEL openly supported it. Plutis Servas and Ezekias Papaoinnaou, both of whom were secretary generals of AKEL, were in favour of enosis. In 1954 the latter pointed out in an interview for The Times that even though there was a ‘fascist’ government in Greece at that point in time, they still supported enosis because governments were temporary, whereas the Greek people were eternal. Papaoinnaou repeated the same contention in London at the second conference of the Communist Parties of the British Commonwealth. In 1966 at the tenth party congress, the party decided to call for ‘unfettered independence’, complete sovereignty and self-determination to obtain enosis without bases.35

Turkey’s Discovery of the Cyprus Turks The Democratic Party under the leadership of Adnan Menderes assumed power in 1950 and ended the single-party rule of the Republican People’s Party, which had been in power since 1923.

Therefore, with the advent of democracy to Turkey in the 1950s, the masses, with their nationalistic sentiments, became involved in politics36 and the excitement they felt over Cyprus was transferred to the policy makers. On the policy makers’ part, there was both a


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genuine conversion to the Cyprus cause and a decision to play the nationalist card to get more votes.

The nationalist impulses of the public were instrumental in influencing Turkish policy making towards Cyprus. From 1950 to 1955 the Turkish government wanted to preserve the status quo, but between 1956 and 1958 the government presented partition as the only possible solution to the Cyprus problem. Slogans such as ‘partition or death’ were popular between those two years. After that date, Turkey converted to the formula of ‘independent Cyprus’.37 This vacillating attitude on the part of the Turkish government was rectified by nationalist public opinion. Admittedly, Turkish leaders were reluctant to steer their policy to a more activist stance. Yet, despite that, a number of combinations, domestic variables coupled with international interactions, led to a more activist Turkish policy. The cold war dynamics had already made Turkey a valuable ally of the United States and Britain. The latter’s active encouragement of Turkey to contain Greek expansionism was also an important factor in Turkey’s increasing interest in Cyprus affairs. Furthermore, to reiterate one point, the impact of public opinion from the late 1940s onwards and a campaign by the Hürriyet newspaper played a special role in popularizing the Cyprus issue. It would not be an exaggeration to say that in no other foreign policy issue did public opinion play such an important role.

In the early 1950s the Cyprus conflict became ever more problematic. As a reaction to Greek demands for enosis, the Turkish Cypriots stepped up their propaganda campaign towards their mainland. For instance, on 27 March 1951, the Turkish daily Halkın Sesi (People’s Voice) demanded incorporation into Turkey by describing the importance of Cyprus for Turkey as a ‘second Hatay’.38

On 20 April 1951, the foreign minister, Fuat Köprülü, made a statement to the effect that because of its geographic proximity, historic ties and the existence of a significant Turkish population, it was normal for Turkey to have a close interest in Cypriot affairs. However, he saw no reason for the alteration of the present legal status of the island. Yet, if there were to be a modification, Turkey would not accept a solution that would be contrary to its interests, so any final solution should be subject to its acceptance.39


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In an attempt to settle the conflict, Britain made a number of offers for self-government, which included the Winster constitution of 1947 and the Radcliffe proposals of 1956. The constitutional expert, Lord Radcliffe, proposed a unicameral parliament with six Turkish and 24 Greek MPs. There was to be a minister responsible for Turkish affairs. He submitted these proposals to the government in November 1956. On 19 December 1956, the colonial secretary, Lennox-Boyd presented the Radcliffe proposals in the House of Commons. He declared that the Cypriots had the right to self-determination when the time was opportune but that this right equally applied ‘to the two main communities and included partition among the eventual options’. Two-thirds of the Turkish MPs needed to consent to a law that would alter the status quo of the domestic affairs of the Turks, such as education, charitable endowments (evkaf) and civil law. These proposals were accepted by Turkey and rejected by Greece.40

At a meeting on 16 December 1956 between Prime Minister Adnan Menderes and the colonial secretary Alan Lennox-Boyd, the latter assured the Turkish side that Britain would never betray the Turkish Cypriots, who cooperated so fully with the British authorities for the preservation of peace and order. Furthermore, Lennox-Boyd expressed his government’s respect and amity towards Turkish Cypriots. Most importantly, he said that he was aware of the significance of the island for Turkey because of its geographical proximity and because of the existence of fellow Turks. He then went on to say that they would not concede to Greek threats and pressures.

At this same meeting he also introduced Lord Radcliffe’s proposals to the Turkish government recommending self-government for Cyprus. He concluded his points by assuring Menderes that they opposed unification of the island with Greece and that, in the case of the application of the principle of self-determination, the Turkish Cypriots – as well as the Greeks – possessed the right to exercise this principle separately. Andan Menderes was adamant on this last point and pointed out that partition would be a just solution, adding, however, that it would be essential for Britain to retain some bases. As a response, Lennox-Boyd said that the British chief of staff preferred to ‘keep Cyprus as a base rather than have bases on Cyprus’, so they opposed partition.


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In fact, most ministers in the British cabinet opposed taksim (partition). For the time being, Menderes preferred Cyprus to ‘stay as a whole in the hands of the United Kingdom’. As Menderes wanted clarification on the application for self-determination, Boyd agreed to make the following change to the speech he was to make to the parliament in the following week: ‘This would mean that in the event of the exercise of self-determination resulting in a choice in favour of a change of the international status of the island then the Turkish Cypriots would be given the option of choosing partition.’ Menderes was satisfied with this statement.41

In mid-November 1956, Menderes asked Professor Nihat Erim to prepare a report on Cyprus and gave him the following parameters to follow:

• Turkey preferred the United Kingdom to continue to rule Cyprus. • If the British decided to leave Cyprus, then the island should be

returned to Turkey, the original sovereign of the island. • If this was unacceptable, the island should be partitioned between

Greece and Turkey. • The enosis option was wholly unacceptable.

After receiving the list of options, Professor Erim prepared his report on 24 November 1956. He had access to the files at the Turkish foreign ministry. He opposed the Turkish policy of con-tinued British sovereignty on the island. Because decolonialization and granting people self-determination were popular notions in the post-Second World War era, he felt that it was highly unlikely that the United Nations would go along with an option to preserve the status quo.

He also cautioned against referring to the Treaty of Lausanne because there was nothing in it that could support an activist Turkish policy on Cyprus. Turkish demands on Cyprus should be based on political, geographical, historic and strategic causes, not on legal arguments. He also emphasized that enosis would distort the strategic balance in the Mediterranean.

He recommended that the government promise to treat all Cypriots equally should the island be ruled by Turkey. He was aware


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that the application of self-determination would not serve Turkish interests because it would rule out Turkish annexation of Cyprus. Instead, this principle should be exercised by separate referenda among Greeks and Turks culminating in partition and a population exchange. He also advocated the use of strategic arguments by pointing out that Turkey’s possession of the island, either as a whole or in part, would best serve Western security interests, including those of NATO.42

Meanwhile, the British ambassador in Ankara, James Bewker, assured the undersecretary of the foreign ministry that the ‘present strategic and political situation in the Eastern Mediterranean’ made the application of self-determination impractical. Instead, they were offering self-government without ruling out the application of self-determination in the future, which would protect the ‘interests of all sections of the community’.43 This meeting showed that the British were extremely accommodating to the Turks and they were ready to modify their assurance upon the request of the Turkish party.

The new governor of Cyprus, Sir Hugh Foot, replaced John Harding. At the end of 1957 he prepared a plan known as the Foot Plan, which envisaged five to seven years of self-rule that would culminate in self-determination at the termination of that period. Each community had the right to veto the other’s decisions. However, Turkey rejected this plan. The Macmillan plan of June 1958, on the other hand, entailed shared sovereignty between Britain, Greece and Turkey. The latter two governments would appoint representatives, who would help the governor during the transitional period. Each community was to have a separate House of Representatives and local autonomy. There would be a council presided over by the governor. The representatives from Greece and Turkey as well as four Greek Cypriots and two Turkish Cypriots from the respective houses would be present on the council. The status quo would remain unchanged for seven years. At the conclusion of this date, Britain might share sovereignty with Greece and Turkey. Greece rejected the plan, whereas Turkey accepted it.44

In the 1950s Britain wanted to weaken Greek pressure on Cyprus so it got Turkey involved in the conflict. There was growing concern in Turkey over Cyprus but an invitation to the London Conference in


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1955 made Turkey an official party to the conflict. Turkish policymakers made an historical analysis of Turkish–Greek relations and believed that Greece had to be stopped in the light of its continuous expansion at the expense of Turkey since 1830, which was the year when Greece gained its independence from Turkey. In Britain’s judgement, the annexation of Cyprus by Greece would have created an unacceptable situation, so Turkey’s involvement in Cyprus began as a reaction to enosis.

Admittedly, relations between Greece and Turkey from 1923 until the mid-1950s were rather cordial. The two states were part of the Balkan Entente established in 1934 against Italian and Bulgarian expansionism. The leaders of the two countries, Atatürk and Venizelos, maintained a good working relationship. However, with the eruption of the Cyprus conflict in the 1950s, both Greece and Turkey became prisoners of their respective nationalisms and felt a responsibility to protect their kinsmen outside their boundaries. Both countries viewed the conflict as a zero-sum game and assumed a realist perspective with emphasis on strategic vulnerabilities. In other words, both saw the conflict as directly influencing state power and prestige. Turkey was not happy with the status quo in the Aegean. Having lost almost all the Aegean islands to Greece, many of which were in close proximity to the Turkish mainland, another loss of an island with a significant Turkish community, and this time on the Mediterranean coast in the southern part of Turkey, would have, in the Turkish decision makers’ judgement, significantly restricted its access to the open seas and would have constituted a threat in the event of war.

There were accusations by the Greeks that Britain was the instigator of the partition option for Cyprus. However, in December 1958, the British prime minister told the parliament that ‘partition would be the worst solution of the Cyprus problem’.45

In 1955 Prime Minister Menderes instructed his foreign minister that the minimum position of the Turkish government on the Cyprus cause was the preservation of the status quo.46 As Turkey got more involved in Cypriot affairs that year, Menderes congratulated Foreign Minister Zorlu and the foreign ministry for their successful deliberations at the UN.47

In fact, Dimitri Bitsios, who was head of the Cyprus desk at the


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Greek foreign ministry, argued that both at the 1955 London Conference and at the debate in the political committee of the UN General Assembly, Turkish and British positions were extremely close and relations quite cordial. At the first meeting, Turkey wanted British administration on the island to continue and in the latter both delegations asked for self-determination for the two peoples in Cyprus.48

During the London Conference, Greek shops and businesses were attacked by mobs in Istanbul and İzmir during incidents that took place on 6 and 7 September 1955. Usually, analysts argue that these events are provoked by government agents.49 To be fair, we can find in the archives evidence of governmental measures countering these claims. For example, substantial financial compensation was allocated to the Greek and other non-Muslim citizens of Turkey whose establishments were attacked and destroyed. Particularly interesting is the large number of Turks who contributed money for this compensation. Governors in each province and the chief of staff of the prime minister were responsible for the coordination of this money. A special account was opened at Işbank for the collection of the funds for the citizens. Prime Minister Menderes replied to almost all the letters and telegraphs, expressing his opinion that this event was a ‘national calamity’ and thanked everybody for their close interest and help.50 More interestingly, Greeks also showed intercommunal solidarity towards the Turks as a number of Greeks asked for the intervention of the prime minister to release a Turk accused of involvement in the 6–7 September incidents.51

These incidents led to the closure of the Turkish government’s ‘Cyprus is Turkish’ association. As a response, the same organization’s British branch asked President Bayar to reopen the said organization in Turkey.52

As negotiations were underway between the British, Turks and Greeks, Greek Cypriots were unsatisfied with the state of affairs and they resorted to violence to put pressure on Britain and the Turks. Greece and Greek Cypriots demanded self-determination for the island. This concept was understood as connoting unification with Greece.53

Makarios, who was first elected archbishop in 1950 and then


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president of the Republic of Cyprus in 1960, promoted the unification of Cyprus with Greece. He cooperated with Colonel George Grivas and provided him with money to buy arms and explosives to start the anti-British resistance movement on the island. He was the unofficial political leader of the EOKA movement, whereas Grivas was the military leader. The EOKA used the Kykko monastery up in the Trodos mountains as a hideout. Furthermore, Makarios was previously known to have encouraged Grivas to throw a few grenades at the Turks when they protested.54

In fact, the seeds of the underground organization were sown in 1952 when Colonel George Grivas attended a meeting with Makarios and General Papadopolous in Athens to discuss the situation in Cyprus. On 7 March 1953 Makarios and others took an oath to keep ‘the cause of enosis’ secret and swore to struggle for its realization. In 1954, arms started to flow from Greece to Cyprus with the full knowledge of Prime Minister Alexandros Papagos. On 1 April 1955 bombs exploded all over Cyprus, especially targeting British colonial buildings.55

With the establishment of the National Organization of Cypriot Fighters (EOKA) by George Grivas in 1954, the fight for enosis intensified. The target of his attacks was both the British colonial administration and the Turkish Cypriot community.56 As a reaction to these assaults, Turkish Cypriots formed the Turkish Resistance Organization (the Türk Mukavemet Teşkilatı or TMT) in 1958 and started organizing underground units.57 Even though there is some confusion about the date of the TMT’s establishment, the founders of that organization, Rauf Denktaş, Dr Burhan Nalbantoğlu and Kemal Tanrısevdi, the latter of whom worked at the Turkish consulate general as an administrative attaché, said that November 1957 was the actual founding date of that organization. Dr Fazıl Küçük joined the organization later on. On the night of 23 November 1957, the first TMT communiqué was distributed in the streets of Nicosia informing the people that it was a defence organization against both the colonial administration and those Greeks who wanted to unite the island with Greece.58

Even though Kemal Tanrısevdi claimed that he had no secret mission and that he got involved in the creation of the TMT on his


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own,59 it is hard to believe this contention. However, it is known that the Turkish government learnt about the details of the TMT two to three months later and at that point it decided to send military experts and ammunition to the fighters. In fact, Lieutenant-Colonel Rıza Vuruşkan only came to Cyprus to organize the underground in July 1958.60

On 2 January 1958, the Turkish Cypriot leaders Fazıl Küçük and Rauf Denktaş met the Turkish foreign minister Fatin Rüştü Zorlu in Ankara and informed him about developments in Cyprus and about the TMT. It was at this meeting that the Turkish Cypriots requested arms and experts from Turkey. After the arrival of Vuruşkan as the coordinator of the TMT, the Turkish army started to train and equip the organization.61

In the meantime, Makarios’s release from the Seychelles in April 1957, to where the British had expelled him because of his intransigent stance, caused concern in Turkey, and this was expressed to the British embassy in Ankara. The Turkish authorities characterized Makarios as ‘the symbol of terrorism and [of] the enosis cause’ and, as a consequence of his activities, it had become quite clear that the two communities could not live under a single administration. Therefore, partition presented the only viable solution to the problem.62

EOKA declared a ceasefire on 9 March 1959 as a response to the Zurich–London agreements. Shortly afterwards, Grivas left Cyprus and was greeted by one million people in Athens. He was against the agreements but decided not to oppose them on the grounds that he did not want to cause a civil war among Greek Cypriots.63 The Greek government promoted him to the rank of general because of his guerrilla activities against the British colonial administration. During this visit, he met President Karamanlis and foreign minister Averoff.64

In 1959, the prime minister of Turkey was concerned about the activities of Rauf Denktaş and the nationalist circles in Cyprus, which might enflame the balance reached on the island as a result of the Zurich agreement. Denktaş was called to Turkey and warned that problems could not be solved through guerrilla methods.65

As a result of the Zurich–London agreements, to be discussed shortly, Greek–Turkish relations improved to such a degree that at a meeting in Istanbul between the Turkish president, Celâl Bayar and the


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Greek ambassador, John S. Pesmazoglu on 6 July 1959, the latter said that the two countries should make a common cause of their policy towards the European Economic Community (EEC). Bayar said that he was unable to study the EEC thoroughly, but that he wanted to keep Turkey within the European family of nations. The Greek ambassador also wanted a common policy towards the EEC so as to avoid being isolated. In addition, he proposed that President Bayar and the Greek king should take a trip to Cyprus together to demonstrate that there was a bilateral consensus over the island.66

The British colonial administration came to an end when the independence of Cyprus was declared in 1960 as a result of the Zurich and London agreements of February 1959, signed by Britain, Greece, and Turkey, as well as by Greek and Turkish Cypriots. The republic that was born entailed two constituent peoples whose concurrence was essential for many important political decisions. The republic was a bicommunal state with ‘consociational features’. The president was to be a Greek Cypriot whereas the vice-president was to be a Turkish Cypriot. A 7 to 3 ratio in favour of Greeks was to be preserved in the parliament, cabinet, bureaucracy and police,67 whereas in the army the ratio would be 60 to 40.68

The president and vice-president had veto powers over the cabinet’s decisions regarding foreign policy, security and defence, and they had veto powers over all the decisions of the legislature. In the House of Representatives, separate ethnic majorities were required for laws regarding taxes, municipalities and the electoral law.69

The Treaty of Establishment, Treaty of Guarantee and Treaty of Alliance, all signed on 16 August 1960, entailed a common defence of the island between the Republic of Cyprus, the United Kingdom, Greece and Turkey, the latter three being the guarantors of the state of affairs established by these treaties. They all had the right to intervene to restore the status quo ante if the need arose. They were to protect the independence and territorial integrity of Cyprus. The treaties allowed for a Greek contingent composed of 950 soldiers and for a Turkish contingent of 650 troops. Britain had two sovereign base areas, one in Dhekelia and the other in Akrotiri. Union with any other country or partition of the island was also precluded.70

The two British sovereign bases, Akrotiri and Dhekelia, were


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retained because they were critical for electronic intelligence. They could intercept messages between tanks and planes, as well as between embassies and other governmental organizations. They were also significant in that they could monitor Soviet missile tests. The information gathered was shared with the Americans.71 So Cyprus was a strategic island for Britain and the United States in their cold war calculations.

They were concerned with a free flow of Middle Eastern oil to the West and containing Soviet expansionism during the cold war. The Akrotiri base was designed to fly nuclear bomber planes, which was why some of the cold war strategists described Cyprus as an ‘unsinkable aircraft carrier’.72

Although only a small island, Cyprus played a role in the cold war politics of the superpowers and their clients. The USSR felt that it could divide the southern flank of NATO by encouraging the conflict on the island and so provided arms to the Greek Cypriots through Egypt. However, in 1965 it stopped the flow of arms to Cyprus and established closer relations with Turkey. The United States was worried that two NATO allies would fight over Cyprus and had not taken a position on the final solution for the island. As part of Makarios’s non-alignment policy, Cyprus provided arms to the North Vietnamese, which prompted the United States to stop aid to Cyprus in 1966, a decision that was to last for one year.73

The Republic of Cyprus was a compromise between the two unbridgeable positions held by Turks and Greeks; namely enosis (unification of the island with Greece) and taksim (partition of the island between Greece and Turkey).74 However, the Greek leadership was of the opinion that the Zurich–London agreements had been imposed on them and that the Greeks had been denied their right of self-determination. In 1961 there were harsh exchanges between the Greek and Turkish members of the House of Representatives. The socialist leader Vasos Lissarides described the Turks as a weak minority that had been given extreme rights and expressed his opinion that Greeks were ready to fight in the name of self-determination.75

In the meantime, the Turkish government’s perception of the Zurich–London agreements remained the same despite the change of circumstances. For example, after the 27 May 1960 coup d’état, which


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overthrew the Democratic Party, General Cemal Gürsel, whom the junta had chosen as the head of state, sent a message to the Greek Cypriots to the effect that he wanted the past to be forgotten and a new working relationship based on fraternal ties between Greeks and Turks to be established.76 In other words, some stability in Turkish foreign policy was preserved even after the military takeover.

Because of the conflicting national demands of the two com-munities, the Republic of Cyprus did not last for long. In 1963, President Makarios proposed making 13 amendments to the constitution. These would eradicate the veto power of the president and the vice-president, end separate municipalities for Greeks and Turks, and establish unified municipalities, making the 7:3 ratio more conducive to the ethnic make-up of the society (which was roughly 80 per cent Greek, 18 per cent Turks, with small Maronite and Armenian populations). Also, a non-ethnic simple majority requirement would replace separate majority rule in the parliament.77

As a manifestation of Greek Cypriot grievances about the political structure of the new state, on 30 November 1963 President Makarios presented a memorandum to the Turkish government in which he suggested amending those provisions in the constitution that prevented the smooth functioning of the state. In fact, what he was trying to do was to eradicate all the special rights that the Turkish Cypriots had obtained from the London–Zurich agreements. The Turkish government came up with a counter memorandum claiming that the situation in Cyprus was sui generis with two national communities. Turkey argued that the Zurich–London agreements, which were not entirely satisfactory for Turkey or for the Turkish Cypriots, had established a very delicate balance and that the Greeks were trying to overthrow the state of affairs in Cyprus. In conclusion, Turkey rejected Makarios’s 13 proposals.78

The republic survived until December 1963, when in events known as Bloody Christmas, Turks were attacked and killed, the statue of Atatürk in Nicosia was shot at and the Turkish communal chamber bombed. The family of a Turkish soldier was massacred in the Kumsal neighbourhood of Nicosia. Similar attacks were perpetrated against Turks throughout the island, including Omorphita (Küçük Kaymaklı), which EOKA terrorist Nicos Sampson captured. As a reaction to


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these brutalities, Turkish jets flew over Nicosia as a warning. On 27 December, a ceasefire line known as the Green Line, which still exists to this day, was drawn. As a result of these clashes, Turkish ministers and bureaucrats were unable to continue working within the government apparatus,79 which had in practice ceased to be binational and was transformed into a Greek Cypriot state.

In September 1963, İsmet Inönü declared to the Turkish parliament that Turkey would respond to any aggression committed against Turkish Cypriots with all the means in its power. The opposition parties wanted to overthrow the government by forcing a vote of no confidence on the government’s policy on Cyprus. Yet, they did not manage to garner the necessary votes.80

With the advent of the new year, attacks on Turks spread all over the island, especially in February 1964 in Limassol, Paphos, Koffina (Erenköy) and other cities.81 These events seem to have stemmed from the Akritas plan, which the Greek newspaper Patris revealed on 21 April 1966 and which envisaged putting pressure on the Turks, with the application of force if necessary, to change the state of affairs on the island and to impose Greek Cypriot hegemony on Cyprus. A declaration of enosis was also part of this plan.82 The former EOKA fighter, Polycarpos Yorgacis, who was now minister of the interior, devised this plan together with Makarios. He was known by his nom de guerre, Chief Akritas. In this plan enosis was presented as the ‘national objective’ and a road map to reach that goal was devised. Turks should be subdued ‘in the shortest possible time, because if we succeed in gaining command of the situation (in one or two days), no outside intervention would either be justified or possible’. This organization had around 1800 fighters and received arms from Greece and Egypt. The presidential retreat in the Trodos mountains was used as a training area83 and the Greek contingent on the island cooperated with this organization.84

The truth of the matter was that Greek Cypriots considered the Zurich–London agreements, which created the Cyprus republic, as denying them self-determination and, because of the Turkish Cypriots’ right to veto key decisions on foreign policy, taxation and municipal matters, giving the latter too much power. In order to implement these ideas, Greeks did not choose democratic measures but sought to


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impose their goals through the use of arms. As a result of these events, Turkish Cypriots were isolated in enclaves that corresponded to 3 per cent of the territory of the island85 surrounded by armed Greek soldiers.

The National Guard in Cyprus, established in 1964, was trained by Greek officers and educated in the ideology of enosis. Grivas was its commanding officer. In those days, the enosists criticized Makarios for not demanding immediate enosis.86

At the Turkish Prime Ministry State Archives I discovered a document that revealed the existence of a Greek organization called Elliniki enosis, which the Greek government had instructed to coordinate the unification efforts of Cyprus with the motherland. The Greek consul general in Cyprus was to collect money and distribute it to the relevant organizations working towards the realization of ‘the national goal’. There is a note on this document specifying that it was found in the meeting room of the administrative committee of the Elliniki enosis.87 It is unclear which branch of the Turkish bureaucracy obtained this information, but the intelligence service was probably responsible for this file and passed it on to the Turkish prime minister’s office. We cannot say more than point out that the Turkish government was concerned about enosis activities in Cyprus and that it had the capacity to gather information on such a secret organization.

On 2 June 1964 Turkey decided to intervene in Cyprus and on 4 June the prime minister called the American ambassador Raymond Hare to inform him of this situation.88 As a consequence of the Johnson letter, in which American President Lyndon Johnson had informed Prime Minister Inönü on 5 June 1964 that:

a military intervention in Cyprus by Turkey could lead to a direct involvement by the Soviet Union. I hope you will understand that your NATO Allies have not had a chance to consider whether they have an obligation to protect Turkey against the Soviet Union if Turkey takes a step which results in Soviet intervention without the full consent and understanding of its NATO allies,

Turkey decided to rescind its decision to occupy Cyprus. President


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Johnson also told his Turkish counterpart that weapons provided by the United States as part of American military assistance could only be used in a defensive manner. Consequently, the USA would be unable to consent to their use in the event of an intervention in Cyprus.89

In 1964 George Papandreou declared that, at that point in history, there were two Greeces and that each was committed to uniting the two political entities.90 Makarios and the Greek prime minister, George Papandreou, agreed at a meeting in Athens in April 1964 that the final goal was the unification of the island with Greece. With a view to reaching this goal, weapons and ‘volunteers’ from the mainland were transferred to Cyprus and, in a matter of a few months, 20,000 soldiers and officers landed on the island. These troops were forced to leave the island in 1967 as a result of a Turkish threat of invasion. This decision, taken by the colonels’ junta, amounted to ‘treason’ and ‘a betrayal of national interests’ according to the future prime minister of Greece, Andreas Papandreou.91

At the 1964 London Conference, Greek Cypriots demanded the abrogation of the Treaty of Establishment, the Treaty of Guarantee and the Treaty of Alliance and their replacement with a polity that would be a unitary state.92 On the other hand, the Turkish side supported the existing international agreements that had created the Republic of Cyprus.93 The ministry of the interior prepared a report on the latest developments in Cyprus, in which it specified that the United States and United Kingdom gave assurances to the Turkish govern-ment to the effect that they would respect international agreements.94

As nothing substantial emerged from this conference, the American special representative, former secretary of state Dean Acheson, initiated the Geneva talks on 11 July 1964. His plan, which was defined as double enosis, entailed putting the Karpas peninsula, which is located on the northern tip of the island, under Turkish sovereignty and establishing Turkish cantons with administrative autonomy over the rest of the island. The bulk of Cyprus was to be annexed to Greece. The Greek side rejected this plan, whereas the Turks accepted it. The second version of the plan entailed leasing a base in Karpas to Turkey for 50 years without any sovereignty involved. This was rejected by Turkey. Turkish Cypriots on the other hand demanded full partition and were critical of both versions of the Acheson plan.95


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The international community put forward a number of plans for the resolution of the Cyprus conflict, but while considering these plans, Turkey also continued to support the Turkish Cypriots’ resistance. On 5 May 1964, the speaker of the Turkish communal chamber, Rauf Denktaş, thanked the Turkish prime minister, İsmet Inönü, for his continued support of the Turkish Cypriot cause, which had boosted the morale of the mücahits (holy warriors). He also expressed his confidence that they would resist until the ‘happy days’ arrived.96

Armed clashes intensified in August 1964 as Greek Cypriot forces besieged the Turkish enclave of Erenköy (Koffina) in northern Cyprus. TMT forces controlled this village and General Grivas was determined to obliterate all forms of Turkish resistance. On 7 August Turkish jets flew over the Greek positions as a warning, but given that the Greek Cypriot blockade around Erenköy had not been lifted, they started bombing Greek positions on the 8 and 9 August.97

On 9 August 1964, the Soviet leader Nikita Khrushchev called on Turkey to stop its ongoing bombing of Greek targets.98 Both superpowers were against any Turkish intervention in Cyprus and Turkey lacked the necessary ships for an amphibious operation. The international systemic factors were against Turkey and military necessities did not allow an operation in 1964. This situation contrasts sharply with the conditions in 1974: in the decade that had passed, Turkey increased its naval capability and significantly improved its relations with the Soviet Union. The United States was preoccupied with the Watergate scandal and the secretary of state Henry Kissinger’s apprehension towards Makarios’s neutralist foreign policy offered an international system that was very much conducive to a Turkish military intervention.

There were also elements among Turkish Cypriots who were collaborating with Greeks who advocated restraint on the Turkish government. Dr Ihsan Ali was one such a character and he wrote to Inönü warning him not to get carried away by provocations.99 Turkish members of AKEL also wanted non-involvement from Turkey and argued that they had been living peacefully with the Greeks for centuries.100

Meanwhile, UN secretary general U-Thant sent a message to


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Turkey, Greece and Cyprus imploring them ‘to avoid any action that could precipitate a new outbreak of hostilities’.101

During those years, the Turkish enclaves formed the nucleus of a state. A general committee composed of the vice-president of the now defunct Republic of Cyprus, Fazıl Küçük, three Turkish ministers of the cabinet, members of the House of Representatives, and members of the Turkish communal chamber took over communal affairs. This entity was replaced in December 1967 by the Provisional Turkish Cypriot Administration, which in turn resulted in 1975 in the Turkish Federated State of Cyprus after the Turkish military operation of 20–22 July 1974. This was not a declaration of independence but was rather devised as part of a future federated state. The declaration of independence came in 1983 with the establishment of the Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus.102

In fact, the national objective of Greek Cypriots, annexation by Greece, continued to be popular among the political elite and masses alike as can be seen from the speeches of Makarios and his ministers, including Polycarpos Yorgacis, the minister of the interior and member of EOKA. The German professor of law, Ernst Forsthoff, the neutral president of the constitutional court, resigned in 1963, protesting at the obstructions of the Greek leadership and their policy of oppression towards the Cypriot Turks.103

Makarios’s statements demanding enosis abound. From his enthronement speech as archbishop on 20 October 1950 (‘never waiver from our policy of uniting Cyprus with Mother Greece’) to his speech at the Kykko monastery on 15 January 1962 (‘The struggle is continuing in a new form, and will go on until we achieve our goal’), we see a constant demand for unification of the island with Greece. However, in time, he inclined more towards independence.104 The fact that Makarios moved towards Cypriot independence in the 1970s did not mean that he supported Cypriot national identity. Rather, he was advocating a sovereign Greek Cypriot state with Greeks as the dominant nation and the Turks as a minority.105

However, at the discourse level Makarios continued to support enosis and wanted to pre-empt the enosists by making statements in favour of unification with Greece. In 1970 he said ‘Cyprus is Greek. … Greek and undivided we shall deliver it to Greece.’106 On 8


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February 1973 he said that all Greeks were enosists but that it was not a feasible policy107 at that point in time. In fact, he wanted to preserve his power by being the leader of an independent state, rather than being a governor of a Greek province. Nevertheless, he could never openly disavow his enosis position.

The enosis ideal in Cyprus can be likened to the pan-Arabist remarks by the Arab leaders. Despite the fact that they subscribed to pan-Arabism at the discourse level, each Arab state protected its own state interests. Furthermore, being the leader of an independent country was far preferable to being the governor of a province in an Arab empire or republic. Similar considerations also applied to Makarios vis-à-vis his policy towards Greece.

Makarios said that the London–Zurich agreements ‘created a State, but not a Nation’. He was late in recognizing that it was ‘in the name of enosis that Cyprus had been destroyed’.108

On 26 June 1967 the Greek House of Representatives passed a resolution calling for ‘uniting the whole and undivided Cyprus with [the] Motherland’, which had been the ‘age-long aspiration of the Greeks of Cyprus’.109 The enosis ideal seemed well and alive.

The 1967 crisis started as George Grivas was organizing attacks on the Turkish village of Tatlısı (Mari), located on the road between Limassol and Larnaca. The villages of Geçitkale (Kophinou) and Boğaziçi (Aios Theodoras) were also in the vicinity of this road – hence all three villages occupied strategic locations. Grivas believed that Turkish enclaves could swiftly be liquidated without an inter-vention from Turkey. The November attacks against these villages brought Turkey and Greece to the brink of war. The Turkish ambassador, who was present in Cyprus during the crisis, argued that Greece, as well as the Greek Cypriot leaders, gave the go-ahead to the onslaught. The Greek National Guard occupied Geçitkale and Boğaziçi and Turkey came very close to invading the island as a consequence of the massacres.110 The Turkish parliament authorized the government to use force and, as a consequence, Turkish forces were concentrated in the southern ports of the country. Turkish jets flew over Cyprus in a threatening manner. All the indications showed that Turkey was ready for an intervention to rescue the Turks from a massacre.


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Turkey gave Greece an ultimatum to withdraw all the soldiers who had illegally entered the island and who were, together with EOKA, carrying out massacres on the Turks. On 17 November 1967, as a direct response to the Geçitkale and Boğaziçi incidents, the prime minister Süleyman Demirel convened the parliament and, with a vote of 432 in favour, from a total of 435 MPs, decided to exercise the right to intervene in Cyprus. This decision was based on a previous resolution of the TGNA of 16 March 1964. Demirel said that, although Turkey wanted to see a peaceful resolution of the Cyprus conflict, this did not mean that it wanted peace at any price.111

The Turkish Grand National Assembly (TGNA) authorized the government to declare war on Greece, if the government deemed such an action necessary. Consequently, Greek troops, as well as Grivas, were withdrawn from the island. Meanwhile, the American president appointed Cyrus Vance as a special representative to solve the crisis. He conducted shuttle diplomacy between Greece and Turkey and managed to convince the Greek government to evacuate all the officers and soldiers who were illegally present on the island.112

Prime Minister Demirel held talks with his Greek counterpart on 9 and 10 September 1967 on the Greek–Turkish border and he explained his talks to Osman Bölükbaşı, the leader of the small Nation Party (Millet Partisi). He summarized the talks as saying that the Greeks were demanding enosis whereas he himself rejected that demand. He pointed out that there was urgent need to garner international support for Turkey’s Cyprus policy.113

George Grivas, who had to leave the island in 1967, returned to Cyprus in 1971 to reorganize the EOKA into EOKA-B. His return made the situation intolerable for many people. The clashes were not only between Greeks and Turks but also between Greeks themselves. This was because the nationalist elements such as Grivas viewed President Makarios’s cautious approach to unification with Greece as treason. The Archbishop Makarios’s helicopter was shot at in 1970, and other assassination attempts followed. These antagonisms culminated in a coup against Makarios on 15 July 1974, instigated by the military junta in Greece, which installed Nicos Sampson, the killer of EOKA, as president. The junta initiated this move as a reaction to Makarios’s letter to the Greek president, Phaidon Gizikis, accusing


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Greek officers of the Greek contingent and the National Guard of supporting EOKA-B and attempting, as he put it, ‘to liquidate my human existence’.114 The military coup was the junta’s reaction to his letter. Makarios managed to evade capture by the coup makers and fled to the United Kingdom. His speech to the United Nations Security Council on 19 July 1974 put blame on the Greek junta for violating the independence of Cyprus, branding it as more dangerous than Turkey.115

As a response to the 1974 Greek instigated coup d’état on the island, Denktaş called upon the Turkish community not to get involved, and told Prime Minister Ecevit that there was no option but to intervene.116

The narrative so far demonstrates that Turkey’s involvement in the island was gradual and prudent. Turkey took the international environment seriously and waited for the right moment to intervene.

Operation Atilla: ‘The Peace Operation’ The authorization to go to war as a result of the 1967 crisis was still in force in 1974. From 1964 onwards, the date of the first decision to support military intervention in Cyprus, Turkey realized that its military was inadequately prepared, so it built more than 120 attack boats117 to be ready for an eventual war that had been planned since 1964. On 20 July 1974 Turkey conducted a military operation, referred to as a peace operation and codenamed Operation Atilla, which captured the northern part of the island. The amphibious operation started on the shores of Kyrenia and involved simultaneously dropping commandos from the air. Kyrenia and the Turkish sector of Nicosia were captured in the first operation of 20–22 July. In the second operation, which started in August, the intervening Turkish forces captured the Famagusta and Omorphou regions.118 As a result of this operation, the ethnic, cultural and religious division of the island resulted in a geographical separation and Cyprus was divided into two ethnically homogenous areas.

During the 1974 invasion/intervention, the Soviet Union showed understanding for Turkey’s actions. It was aware that without the Turkish intervention, the island would have been part of Greece and, hence, NATO.119 The United States also did not mount any strong


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opposition to the intervention. So, unlike the situation in the 1960s, Turkey was allowed a free hand during its operation. With the Geneva agreement of 30 July 1974, the United Kingdom, Greece and Turkey had agreed that there were two de facto autonomous administrations on the island.120 Even Konstantinos Karamanlis admitted in May 1976 that there was some legal justification for the first Turkish invasion, but there was ‘no justification’ whatsoever for the second one because he expected Turkey to evacuate the island after the first operation.121

A population exchange agreement was signed in Vienna on 2 August 1975 as a result of which only a token number of Turks were left in the south and a few Greeks in the north.122 Some 140,000 Greeks were transferred to the Greek-controlled area, whereas 50,000 Turks were transported to the north.123 This population exchange was similar to the population exchange agreed between Greece and Turkey in 1923, after Greece failed to deliver the Megali Idea (the Grand Idea), intended to resuscitate the glories of ancient Greece and Byzantium, when it invaded parts of Turkey, including İzmir and the territories extending all the way to central Anatolia. The failure of the Greek occupation of Anatolia between 1919 and 1922, which the Greeks refer to as the Asia Minor disaster, struck a major blow to this idea. These events, both clashes and the population exchange, are similar to the Turkish–Greek War of 1919–22, in which two clashing nationalisms fought over the same piece of territory.

As part of the Treaty of Lausanne, Greeks living in Turkey and Turks living in Greece were subject to a population exchange, excluding the Greeks of Istanbul and the Turks of Western Thrace.124 These two population transfers were a clear case of political divorce between two nations that had failed to coexist in the same country. This was perhaps an unfortunate state of affairs, but the two rival nationalisms precluded such a peaceful coexistence in the same polity and society. The main reason for this sorry state of affairs was that in the years between 1963 and 1974 Greek Cypriots killed 834 Turkish Cypriots.125 To this very day, martyr days with names such as ‘the glorious Erenköy resistance’ or the ‘massacres of Muratağa and Sandallar’ are commemorated in northern Cyprus. In fact, such massacres contributed greatly to the consolidation of Turkish Cypriot national identity.


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In the aftermath of the Turkish intervention/invasion of 1974, Turkey did not face any international sanctions. This was because it was a member of NATO and had a special relationship with the United States.126 Admittedly, Turkey faced the American arms embargo between 1975 and 1978 but there were no sanctions directed against Turkey from the United Nations or, for that matter, from any other international organization. In 1975, as a reaction to the arms embargo imposed on Turkey by the US Congress, Turkey encouraged the Turkish Cypriots to declare the Turkish Federated State of Cyprus.127

After 1974 the Turkish side insisted on a bizonal federation.128 Territorial separation was perceived to be essential because of ethnic clashes between the two communities. On 12 February 1977, at a summit meeting between Rauf Denktaş and Archbishop Makarios, they agreed that they would try to establish ‘an independent, non-aligned, bi-communal Federal Republic’ and that each community would be allocated a certain amount of territory – denoting a bizonal territorial arrangement. A summit meeting was held between Rauf Denktaş and Spyros Kyprianou on 18–19 May 1979. There was a ten-point agreement and the 1977 Denktaş–Makarios agreement of 1977 was also reaffirmed.129

Turkish–Greek Relations under the Shadow of the Cyprus Problem The concrete problems between Greece and Turkey are ‘contaminated’ with such issues as perceptions, emotions about historical victories and defeats.130 The liaisons are coloured with those elements as these two proud nations, the descendants of Byzantine and Ottoman empires, established their two nation-states.

Greece got its independence from the Ottoman Empire in 1830. So there was always a feeling of animosity and the portrayal of the Turks as the Other by most Greeks, whereas for the Turks, the Greeks were only one among many other potential rivals. Russians posed the real threat to Ottoman and Turkish territorial integrity.

With the Greek revolt of 1821 and its successful completion, Greece was established on the Morean peninsula. In 1864 it captured the seven islands from the Ottoman Empire and in 1881 it captured


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Thessaly. In 1912 Greece occupied Salonica and in 1913 Crete, and at the end of the First World War it occupied Thrace. Finally, in 1947, Greece obtained the Dodecanese from Italy. It is noteworthy that Greece, from its independence to the mid-twentieth century, invariably expanded its territories at Turkey’s expense.131 To the Turks this quite understandably conveyed the image of an expansionist Greece, an image reinforced by Greece’s Anatolian campaign of 1919–22, when it managed to capture large portions of Turkey, which included the Aegean region, and was only stopped on its way to Ankara in central Anatolia.

The Turkish–Greek Population Exchange Protocol was signed in Lausanne between Turkey and Greece on 30 January 1923. With this treaty both countries managed to create homogenous societies, for all the Muslim Turks of Greece, with the exception of Western Thrace, and all the Greek Orthodox people of Turkey, with the exception of the Istanbul Greeks, were to be exchanged. In only a few years 1,200,000 Greeks left Turkey and 500,000 Turks left Greece.132 This seemed to have demonstrated that after long centuries of cohabitation Greeks and Turks were no longer able to live together, a state of affairs repeated in Cyprus with the 1975 agreement.

By the 1930s Eleftherios Venizelos had become convinced that conditions were inappropriate for enosis, so he tried to cultivate amicable relations with Turkey and the United Kingdom. He outlawed pro-enosis demonstrations in Greece and looked with disfavour on coercive measures to reach the unification goal. He pursued a realist foreign policy and believed that Cypriots should be ‘loyal subjects of the British Empire’. Eventually, the British might be willing to hand over the island to the Greeks. After the 1930 Treaty of Friendship between Greece and Turkey he recommended Atatürk for the Nobel Peace Prize.133

The friendship established between Atatürk and Venizelos was clearly an aberration and, with the eruption of the Cyprus conflict, everything seemed to return to its traditional state of affairs – namely rivalry and animosity. In fact, the majority of people on both shores of the Aegean saw their opposite number as a rival and his or her motivations as expansionist. The crisis over the Kardak-Imia rocks in the Aegean Sea in 1996, as well the elections of politicians, who are


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extremely sensitive to any issues concerning territory and minorities in their respective countries, characterize the state of affairs between the two countries. Granted, there are businessmen and artists who try to establish friendly relations between the two nations living on opposite shores of the Aegean, but in the absence of a resolution to the major problems between the two countries, such efforts have proven to be failures.

What Atatürk and Venizelos did was to freeze demands on the other party and to accept the territorial arrangements of the Treaty of Lausanne. Only when the status quo between Greece and Turkey in the eastern Mediterranean was likely to be altered with the prospects of Greek territorial expansion to Cyprus, were the Turks alarmed. This situation rekindled Turkish feelings of animosity and aroused fear of yet another Greek island appearing right on the doorstep of Turkey.

In effect, Cyprus poisoned Turkish–Greek relations to a considerable extent. The Cyprus conflict magnified other problems in the two countries’ bilateral relations, including the status of the Aegean Sea and of the Turkish minority in Western Thrace and the Greek minority in Istanbul.

To reiterate, bilateral Turkish–Greek relations were cordial until the Cyprus dispute poisoned them. From the time of Atatürk and Venizelos up until the mid-1950s, there were no serious problems. It was Marshall Alexandros Papagos who, as prime minister from 1952 to 1956, committed Greece to the enosis struggle. With the eruption of the EOKA struggle liaisons deteriorated even though the Greek prime minister, Kostantinos Karamanlis (1956–63), tried to preserve ‘the Zurich–London spirit’. There was a temporary lull in the Turco–Greek conflict over Cyprus between 1959 and 1963 as the Republic of Cyprus was established upon Greek–Turkish cooperation and instigation. It was with the advent of Yorgos Papandreu that Greece started pouring in arms and ammunition to the island. This deterioration of relations also adversely affected the Greeks living in Turkey, mostly in Istanbul and the Turks living in Western Thrace in Greece.134

From the late 1980s onwards, numerous initiatives were undertaken to ease relations between Turkey and Greece. The Davos meeting in 1988 was the first of these initiatives and others followed


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suit. There was an effort at reconciliation, which was dubbed the spirit of Davos after the meeting between prime ministers Turgut Özal and Andreas Papandreou in Davos, Switzerland, in which the two countries agreed not to repeat the recent crisis in the Aegean that had brought them ‘to the brink of war’, and to ‘increase contacts among civilian and military officials, members of the press and businessmen’. However, nothing substantial emerged from the Davos spirit. That the two prime ministers were to meet once a year135 did not function in the light of the disagreements between Greece and Turkey.

At another meeting between the prime ministers in Davos held on 1 February 1992, Turkey agreed to Greece’s inclusion in the Black Sea Economic Cooperation (BSEC) project, even though Greece does not have a Black Sea coast, and the parties expressed their determination to find a ‘just and lasting’ settlement for the Cyprus problem and agreed to support the good offices of the United Nations Secretary General.136

In a statement on 24 March 1996, Prime Minister Mesut Yılmaz called on Greek leaders to resuscitate the era of Atatürk and Venizelos when ‘compromise … friendship and cooperation’ characterized Turco–Greek relations. He also assured the Greek side that Turkey was not trying to alter the status quo in the Aegean.137

At a NATO summit held in Madrid on 8 July 1997, hosted by the US secretary of state Madeleine Albright, the Turkish and Greek foreign ministers, Ismail Cem and Theodore Pangalos respectively, agreed to respect each other’s sovereignty, international law and agreements, and their vital interests in the Aegean, to refrain from unilateral acts and to resolve their disputes peacefully. President Süleyman Demirel and Prime Minister Costas Simitis consented to this statement in a separate meeting in Madrid. Nothing came of these exchanges, however, for Greece insisted that the Aegean problems should be taken to the International Court of Justice (this was demanded on numerous occasions, including one in a letter from Pangalos to Cem of 20 February 1998),138 whereas Turkey was lukewarm about the idea because of its traditional suspicion of international organizations when it came to resolving a problem with a Western country – as the case of Mosul demonstrated in 1925.

Turkey wanted to formalize the Madrid declaration of 8 July 1997,


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but Greece preferred to go to the International Court of Justice. Furthermore, Turkey criticized Greece for supporting certain terrorist organizations,139 meaning the PKK camps on the outskirts of Athens.

There were a number of agreements signed between Greece and Turkey between 1999 and 2000. These were intended to combat terrorism, illegal immigration and drug trafficking, to promote invest-ment and cooperation among universities and national broadcasting corporations, and, of course, to promote tourism.140

Despite the easing of tensions in relations in the aftermath of the 1999 earthquakes in Turkey and Greece, there was still no improvement in the outstanding bilateral problems, such as Cyprus, the Aegean, and minorities in both countries.

The Centrality of Cyprus in Turkish Foreign Policy Turkey has committed so much of its credibility in Cyprus, not even to mention its army and money, that it cannot retreat from its policy without losing an enormous amount of prestige. Furthermore, given that the masses have embraced Cyprus as a national cause, making too many concessions in Cyprus is likely to be to the government’s disadvantage at the polls.

In a speech in Istanbul on 24 August 1955, the Turkish prime minister, Adnan Menderes, expressed his concern for ‘our kinsmen’ in Cyprus and iterated the island’s strategic importance as far as Turkey’s southern ports were concerned. At the London conference on 31 August 1955 the Turkish foreign minister, Fatin Rüştü Zorlu, explained Turkey’s official position, pointing out the importance of Cyprus in defending Turkey, particularly if the island were controlled by a country that was also in possession of the Aegean islands – a state of affairs that would result in Turkey’s encirclement.

He went on to say that no country could put its security at the mercy of another country, even if the state in question happened to be an ally. Any change in the status quo to the benefit of the Greeks would upset the balance in the Aegean and eastern Mediterranean, which had been established between Greece and Turkey with the Treaty of Lausanne. The foreign minister also mentioned the security and well-being of Turkish Cypriots in his speech,141 but overall his emphasis was more on state interests than on nationalist irredentism.


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The classical explanation made by scholars and practitioners alike is that Cyprus was important for Turkey because of the island’s strategic location and that it was under a moral obligation to support the well-being and security of Turkish Cypriots. Turkey’s understanding of the situation was such that if Cyprus should fall into the hands of a hostile power, the security of the Turkish ports in the Mediterranean would be placed in jeopardy, particularly with respect to the free flow of military assistance and goods. Furthermore, access to the Cypriot airfields would allow a potentially hostile state to attack Turkey with considerable ease. As far as the Turkish Cypriots were concerned, they were considered to be part of the Turkish nation and their security and presence in Cyprus were of utmost priority for Turkey.142

A realist analysis of Turkish intervention would take the tilting of the balance of power in the eastern Mediterranean in Greece’s favour into account. Also, the fact that American pressure restricted Turkey in the 1960s can be compared with the détente between the USA and the USSR and the improved relations between Turkey and the Soviet Union in the 1970s. The Watergate scandal, it should also be pointed out, distracted the American administration.143 So, systemic analyses were significant in Turkish policy towards Cyprus.

In retrospect, at the level of discourse, the strategic considerations seemed to be more important than other explanations, which is evident from the arguments that Denktaş and Türkeş made to the effect that Cyprus would have been important even if there had been no Turks on the island. But, as I argue in this book, in the absence of ideational factors, meaning the perceived bonds to the Turkish community in Cyprus, Turkey would not have intervened to alter the status quo, as its non-intervention in the Aegean clearly demonstrates. In other words, there were no Turks (or only very few in the case of Rhodes) living in the Aegean islands. Despite the existence of numerous Greek islands, some of which are extremely close to Anatolia, Turkey did not attempt to change the status quo in the Aegean, even though Turkey views the proximity of these islands and their militarization as a future threat. Furthermore, Denktaş and Türkeş might have refrained from arguing for the protection of their community, which might have caused some people to accuse them of unjustly jeopardizing Turkish security. So they argued that by


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becoming involved in the affairs of Cyprus, Turkey was protecting its own interests, not the interests of a small Turkish community.

The leader of the Nationalist Action Party, Alparslan Türkeş, represented the maximalist position on Cyprus: in the 1960s he not only demanded military intervention but also wanted the total annex-ation of the island. He also argued that the Aegean islands controlled by Greece as well as Western Thrace and Salonika should be occupied by Turkey. After the 1974 military operation, he criticized the government for having stopped before completing the annex-ation of the entire island. His rationale was that Turkey’s possession of the island would not endanger Greek security but that the latter’s control of it would endanger Turkish security. For Türkeş, the significance of the island was strategic, in other words free access to the Mediterranean coast of Turkey would seriously be endangered if Greece were to control Cyprus. The island would be significant for Turkey even if there had been no Turks on it. Their existence simply enhanced the importance of it.144 This is a significant analysis by the leader labelled as pan-Turkist or extreme nationalist. He did not justify Turkish involvement with some nationalist rhetoric but rather with a rational analysis of the national interest.

Throughout the 1960s, he demanded the creation of a fait accompli on the island by secretly deploying around 20,000 Turkish troops. They were to control a certain amount of territory in Cyprus, hence ruling out the enosis option. In a meeting with Prime Minister Süleyman Demirel on 16 December 1964, he suggested these ideas to the prime minister, who refused such a proposal on the grounds that it would be dangerous, making Turkey the aggressor and pointed out that the chief of staff was against piecemeal operations and preferred a total military operation.145

At first glance, this classical explanation seems convincing with respect to Turkey’s involvement in Cyprus since the 1950s, yet one needs to ask why Turkey intervened in Cyprus and not in Western Thrace (Turks living in Greece), or why Turkey failed to support the Turks in Bulgaria, the Turkmen in Iraq, the Crimean Tatars or the Azerbaijani Turks as much as the Turks in Cyprus? After all, Western Thrace and the former Ottoman province of Mosul (the Mosul–Kirkuk region where the Turkmen reside) were part of the National


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Pact accepted by the Turkish nationalists in 1920, whereas Cyprus was not part of that pact. Turkey lost de facto control over Cyprus in 1878 with the Treaty of Berlin and de jure control of it with the Treaty of Lausanne in 1923. And, to emphasize another point, there was no demand to redeem Cyprus in any of the official documents that founded the republic of Turkey.

Turkey’s involvement in Cyprus in the 1950s became possible because of a combination of strategic and ideological or nationalist factors, which were made easier by Britain inviting Turkey to the London conference in 1955, although I am not saying that without Britain’s invitation Turkey would not have become involved in Cypriot affairs. As discussed above, there was public pressure on the government to protect Turkish Cypriots. Turkish Cypriots were also putting pressure on the Turkish government to engage more actively in the Cyprus dispute. Britain’s invitation, however, made Turkey an official party to the conflict, for it had renounced its rights on Cyprus when it signed the Treaty of Lausanne in 1923.

The conversion of key foreign policy-making institutions to the Cyprus cause, including the Turkish foreign ministry and the chief of staff, as well as key figures in those institutions, such as Fatin Rüştü Zorlu, first as a career diplomat and then as the foreign minister, made the Cyprus issue a matter of national concern for Turkey. Relations between the foreign ministry and the chief of staff were harmonious during the 1974 military intervention.146 And this consensus on Cyprus policy continues between these institutions to this day. The Cyprus desk at the foreign ministry and the chief of staff, as well as diplomats and soldiers working in other units and who were sympathetic to the Cyprus issue, wielded a disproportionate influence on Turkish policy towards Cyprus. The diplomats and officers who worked in Cyprus also generally adopted a pro-Cyprus attitude and emphasized the significance of Cyprus for Turkish national interests.

In fact, Melih Esenbel points out Zorlu’s special role in influencing the Turkish government and changing the official Turkish position from that of ‘Turkey does not have a Cyprus problem’, which both the Republican People’s Party foreign minister Necmettin Sadak and the Democratic Party’s foreign minister Professor Fuat Köprülü had expressed, to a more activist position.147


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Denktaş pointed out that for a long time the Turkish foreign ministry was reactive and under the influence of the United States and NATO. The first Turkish ambassador in independent Cyprus, Emin Dırvana, relied very much on the British and Americans. Other figures such as Ilter Türkmen are characterized as passive and pro-American. Denktaş believed that the 1960 agreements were as important as the Treaty of Lausanne.148

There were also indications from Atatürk that if Greeks captured the thirteenth island, namely Cyprus, this would be detrimental to Turkish interests. The special place of Cyprus is that if it were in hostile hands it would be a dagger to the security of Turkey; and Turks on the island would cease to exist.149 Again, we see the strategic and nationalist arguments working in harmony, but the strategic considerations seem to have the upper hand.

The role of public opinion was also significant in converting the Turkish polity and society to an activist foreign policy towards Cyprus. The daily Hürriyet mobilized the campaigns ‘Cyprus is Turkish’ and ‘Partition or death’ throughout the 1950s. In fact, there were numerous Cyprus demonstrations in all the major cities in Turkey, starting from the late 1940s and continuing into the 1950s.150 These demonstrations, in which university students played a particularly important role, were significant because they started before the Turkish government adopted the Cyprus cause and took place at a time when the official position was still ‘There is no Cyprus problem’ for Turkey. There was probably a mutual interaction between the people and the Turkish government. Even though popular demonstrations started before the government adopted the Cyprus cause, and hence influenced the government line, it is possible that throughout the 1950s and the 1960s the government encouraged certain activities to garner support for the ruling political party. A party willing to give concessions on Cyprus would be punished in the next elections, so the ruling party would be the most vulnerable actor on Cyprus politics.

The prime minister responsible for making the decision to launch the 1974 military operation, Bülent Ecevit, argued that ‘the purported Genocide of Turks by the Greeks’ prepared the background for the intervention. There were also previous decisions by the Turkish


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parliament, from 1964 and 1967, authorizing the government to go to war if necessary. He pointed out that the role of public opinion was essential in Turkey’s involvement in Cyprus. In 1974, Turkey ‘got the opportunity’ to intervene and it seized that moment.151

One should also take into consideration the transition of Turkey from a one-party state into a fragile democracy in the 1950s. Any regime change, be it from democracy to dictatorship or from an autocracy to a democracy, is likely to increase the probability of war. As Edward Mansfield and Jack Snyder argued, states in their transitional phases tend to be ‘more aggressive and war-prone’. During such periods, elites use the nationalism card to mobilize the masses. Nationalism, which is a supra-class ideology, unites masses and the elite, so it has the added benefit of eradicating class conflicts. In fact, stable autocracies are more stable than democratizing states. In the latter case new alliances, which are usually unstable, are formed with numerous new groups with diverging interests. As they are incorporated into the system, new social groups want to have a larger say in policy making and want the state mechanism to protect their interests.152

In 1950, Turkey held its first truly democratic elections, which resulted in the replacement of the Republican People’s Party, which had been ruling Turkey since 1923, by the Democratic Party whose cadres hailed from the ruling party. As Turkey was democratizing, the newly-elected government followed a conservative-nationalist line both in its internal and external politics. As an example at the domestic level, although in the 1930s Atatürk had changed the call to prayer from Arabic to Turkish, it was later changed back from Turkish to Arabic, contacts with religious figures began and the prime minister used religious discourse to the effect that Turks were a Muslim nation. This contrasted starkly with the Atatürk and Inönü periods when expressions of religiosity, especially among public officials, were exceedingly limited.

As politicians opened themselves up to the common people, mostly because they needed their votes, they became more responsive to popular feelings. The politicians also wanted to exploit nationalist sentiments to mobilize the masses. With the rise of the Democratic Party (DP), peasants began to feel that their voices in matters of


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religion and on other social issues could carry greater weight. In fact, the DP presented itself as the true voice of the people as opposed to the elitist Republican People’s Party (RPP). This, of course, was not a correct characterization of the DP, for most of the politicians, including the new president Celal Bayar, were members of the RPP until the mid-1940s: having said that, however, the DP garnered much more of its support from the rural masses than from the more Westernized urban elite.

A systemic element in Turkey’s urge for democratization was the United States and Turkish desire to become a member of NATO. That was why Turkish troops fought in the Korean War, which culminated in membership in NATO in 1952. Even though the latter two events happened after the Democrats assumed power, the opposition RPP had no or few complaints about those foreign policy decisions.

During the time of Atatürk and Inönü, only a small elite would be involved in the formulation of foreign policy, but with democratization, identity-based politics became more prevalent. Support for a more activist foreign policy increased and frustration with the Western camp led to closer relations with the Soviet bloc and Third World, so as to garner support for the Cyprus cause.

In addition to the strategic and ideational elements discussed in this chapter, I should also add the transition to democracy as an additional factor in the increased salience of Cyprus in Turkish politics. Both in the 1950s and in 1974, the Turkish polity was moving from autocracy to democracy or democratizing from a single-party regime to a multi-party regime in the former and from the junta era of 1971–73 to a multi-party democracy in the latter.

Furthermore, in the 1970s there were changes on the ideational front. The Nationalist Action Party and a rising interest in conservative nationalism not only legitimized interest in external Turkish and Islamic affairs, but also this form of nationalism was more defiant of and less sensitive to international systemic factors. Ecevit’s Third World ideology, which was critical for instance of the ban on opium cultivation initiated by American pressure groups during the military government of 1971–73, advocated a more independent foreign policy. The Islamist National Salvation Party was also anti-Western and fully supported Turkey’s independent foreign policy line, including its


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activist position on Cyprus, but it also preferred to have closer relations with the Islamic world.

It should be emphasized that the Turkist element of nationalism occasionally erupted out of the Kemalist state identity. This element will only translate into policy if a special set of conditions is satisfied. For example, as analysed in Chapter 3, Turkish involvement in the affairs of outside Turks depends on the level of risks involved. As long as the superpowers or regional powers do not jeopardize state security, and only after having made a rational calculation of the risks and benefits, is Turkey likely to get involved in the affairs of Turks living outside its territorial boundaries. This involvement can range from anywhere between making public statements in support of the rights of diaspora Turks, to outright intervention. There is a correlation between Kemalist state identity, which defines itself as Turkish, and an activist policy towards its kinsmen outside its boundaries. That there is no direct and automatic causal relationship between state identity and an activist foreign policy stems from the fact that state identity entails the protection of state interests and survival, which is why Kemalism was so critical of the ‘adventurism’ of the Ottoman era. When there are reduced risks, maximizing state interests becomes the order of the day. We can describe this foreign policy as realism under the influence of nationalism.

Conclusion One senior diplomat considers Turkey’s ‘victory’ in Cyprus as one of Turkey’s main foreign policy successes, the others being signing the Treaty of Montreux, the annexation of Hatay, remaining out of the Second World War and joining NATO. With the Cyprus success, Turkey at a stroke stopped Greek expansionism, which had been going on since the Greek revolution of 1821. Had Turkey failed to put an end to this ongoing pattern, it would have ended up by being totally ‘encircled by Greece’.153 Naturally, there would be no geographic encirclement but rather a threat to national security. However, Turkish policy makers seem to exaggerate the situation, not only to convince others but also to convince themselves of the severity of the situation.

While Turkish Cypriots saw the Zurich–London agreement that established the Republic of Cyprus as sacrosanct and wanted to remain


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loyal to the signed version (pacta sunt servanda), the Greeks thought that changing circumstances necessitated a revision of the treaty (rebus sic stantibus).154 Makarios was willing to give Turkish Cypriots only minority rights instead of the partnership stipulated in the 1960 agreement.155

The former Greek Cypriot President, Glafcos Clerides, sum-marized the Cyprus conflict when he wrote in his memoirs that union with Greece had for a long time been the aspiration of Greek Cypriots, that the Greek Cypriot political leadership ‘remained faithful to the enosis ideal’ and that they considered independence a ‘stepping-stone towards the ultimate goal of enosis’.156

One Cypriot scholar claimed that Turkey saw the Turkish com-munity on the island as a strategic minority, hence regarding its members as part of its strategic planning. The Turks of Western Thrace, however, were viewed purely from a humanitarian and kinsmen perspective.157 I would like to point out that this state of affairs is a function of the international conjuncture and the lack of legal or strategic justifications in the case of Western Thrace. Furthermore, there were no mass massacres in that area as there were in Cyprus. In other words, the window of opportunity I mentioned in Chapter 5 never opened for Western Thrace. Under a different set of conditions, Turkey could easily have intervened there.

A Turkish Cypriot identity, while strong, has always identified with Turkey and there is a close relationship between the two states, exacerbated by the international embargo imposed on northern Cyprus. This state of affairs might have hastened the integration between the two Turkish states. However, in the late 1990s the element in Turkish Cypriot society that advocated differentiation rather than identification with Turkey gained strength.158 Some political parties, such as the Republican Turkish Party (Cumhuriyetçi Türk Partisi or CTP) and Communal Liberation Party (Toplumcu Kurtuluş Partisi or TKP), as well as a number of labour unions, wanted to see the reunification of the island and a downgrading of relations with Turkey. Once they came to power, however, the CTP leadership closely coordinated its policies with Turkey as well.

The European Union has introduced a complicating factor into the Cyprus problem. Because the Greek Cypriots were allowed to join the


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EU in 2004 and were seen as representing the island as a whole, they, the Greek Cypriots, lost their incentive to bargain with the Turks on the island. The emergence in 2004 of a government led by the Republican Turkish Party under the leadership of Mehmet Ali Talat, which had strong Cypriotist inclinations, caused excitement in EU circles where the CTP had always enjoyed support. However, once in power, Talat recognized that it was not as easy to make peace with the Greeks as he had argued while he was in opposition. In 2005, when he became president of the TRNC, he gradually shifted his former ideas towards working for close TRNC–Turkey cooperation.

The difficulty of the Cyprus problem stems from the fact that Turks fear another Crete and Greeks fear another Hatay.159 As trust is lacking between the Greek and Turkish Cypriots, a federal solution is difficult to reach. That is why two states in Cyprus with special relations with their homelands and the European Union might offer a solution that would in time increase confidence and friendship between the peoples.160

All political parties are in agreement on the significance of Cyprus for Turkish foreign policy. It should be emphasized, however, that the island became important only from the mid-1950s onwards. The special window of opportunity that opened for Turkish decision makers allowed them to seize the moment and get a foothold in Cyprus. Also, with the advent of democracy in the 1950s, there was mass involvement in the political affairs of the country and for the populace at large the Cyprus cause seemed to present yet another opportunity for revanchism for the Greek invasion of Anatolia between 1919 and 1922.

One needs to contrast Turkey’s stronger position in the 1950s and 1960s as opposed to its weaker position since the 1990s. As a member of NATO, Turkey was a key ally of the Western bloc against the Soviet Union. This state of affairs allowed Turkey to pursue an active foreign policy. However, with the cold war gone, Turkey has lost some of its strategic clout as far as the Europeans are concerned. Turkey’s bid for membership of the EU has allowed Greece disproportionate power over European–Turkish relations.

Turkey became so heavily committed to the ‘national cause of Cyprus’ that it grew increasingly painful to give concessions to the


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Greek party. This was particularly evident after the 1974 military operation in Cyprus, which resulted in the liberation of Turkish Cypriots but left their legal status in a limbo, for they were neither an independent state nor a Turkish province.

Turkey’s position has ranged from non-intervention before the 1950s, to a policy of partition or death, to support for the Republic of Cyprus and finally the shift from a bicommunal, bizonal federation to a confederation. The main reason for this constant policy change was that Turkey had no coherent position on Turks living outside its boundaries. Although there was interest in the fate of Turks living in neighbouring countries, the political elite was highly selective about its involvement. Turkish foreign policy would have made more sense within the larger articulation of an orientation towards the Turkic world. However, this ideological clarity was lacking among decision makers.

Also, as far as the ladder of involvement (See Chapter 6) is concerned, it should be said that there is a radical difference between the use of force, as in the case of Cyprus, and declarations of support, as we shall see in the next chapter with respect to Karabagh. A special set of circumstances enabled Turkey to implement an activist and revisionist foreign policy. Interest in Turkish Cypriots should not be seen as an exception to the general rule of the purported total disregard for external Turks. Rather, the military intervention should be seen as an exception. Turkey has been a status quo power for most of its republican history, with the exceptions of Mosul, Montreux and Hatay. In the Cyprus case, Turkey did not see itself as a revisionist state but rather as the upholder of the state of affairs enshrined in the Zurich–London agreements. Legality and peaceful resolution of conflicts were the hallmarks of Turkish foreign policy. But the existence of strategic, ideational and domestic factors led to an activist foreign policy. This is not to say that Turkey will never use force in its external relations in the future. The preconditions for such an involvement were specified in Chapter 3.

As can be seen in the recent interest in the Turkmen living in Kirkuk and other parts of northern Iraq, there needs to be a combination of security and national interests, together with an opportune international environment for Turkey to become fully


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involved. Lack of a consistent interest in their affairs makes it difficult for Turkey to have enough leverage over the Turkmen in particular and over Iraqi politics in general.

Indeed, there was a Turkish element in its official ideology but it was very much tamed or restrained of its possible pan-Turkist tendencies. It was only after Cyprus was perceived as constituting a vital interest by the populace and policy makers that it was possible to undertake this heavy burden.

Recently, the government of the Justice and Development Party under Recep Tayyip Erdoğan, which assumed power in November 2002, was critical of what he called 40 years of Cyprus policy. There is an ideological ambivalence on the part of former Islamists, who claimed to have evolved into conservative democrats. Erdoğan’s mentor, Necmettin Erbakan, was a strong believer in the significance of Cyprus. Erdoğan tries to transcend these policies by making ambitious speeches and wants to present himself as a problem-solver to the Turkish constituency and to broader international public opinion. He seems to be prepared to make concessions to the Greek side in return for the prospect of membership of the EU. His approach would constitute a radical revision of foreign policy on Cyprus.

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6 The Karabagh Issue and the

Emergence of the Turkic World

With the advent of the 1990s, revolutionary changes in the international system saw the break-up of the USSR and hence the end of bipolarity and the emergence of a unipolar international system with the United States at its helm. Some 15 former Soviet socialist republics gained their independence from the Soviet Union in 1991 and five of these were Turkic. Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Uzbekistan and Turkmenistan were Turkic republics in the geographical area of Turkestan: the people in Tajikistan, the other republic in the area, spoke a dialect of Persian. In the Caucasus, Azerbaijan was the only Turkic republic and, of the former Soviet republics, the one culturally, linguistically and historically closest to Turkey, for the language spoken there was basically the same as the Turkish spoken in Turkey. Also, it was the only republic among the five to have been under Ottoman suzerainty, albeit for a short period of time. More importantly, it was the only country among the former Soviet republics where the people mostly characterized themselves as Turks or Azerbaijani Turks. On the other hand, as one moved further east beyond the Caspian Sea, it became more difficult for Anatolian Turks to understand the Turkic dialects or languages spoken by the peoples of Central Asia and the latter’s identification as Turks became weaker.

The emergence of a Turkic world caused widespread excitement in Turkey, which for the first time in its recent history felt that it was no longer alone in a world it perceived as hostile. Now there were five fellow Turkish states that would follow the lead of Turkey and provide the country with vital support for its national causes. At least, that was the expectation of the leaders and people of Turkey who felt frustrated by both the Western and Muslim worlds because of their lack of


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support and understanding of Turkey on such critical issues as Cyprus or EU membership.

However, Turkish policy makers and its foreign service were poorly prepared to cope with this new opportunity. Pan-Turkism was often regarded as adventurism and seen as jeopardizing the security of the Turkish state. The Nationalist Action Party, under the leadership of Alparslan Türkeş, was alone in advocating the unity of the Turks and expressing interest in their well-being. It should, however, be added that this pan-Turkism had often been concealed to avoid antagonizing the Soviet Union and Turkish state. Therefore, lacking sufficient knowledge of the region, the Turkish elite was ideologically and intellectually unprepared to cope with the rising challenge of this new geopolitical reality. The newly-independent republics harboured expectations that could well have been exploited to increase Turkish power, but they also could have drawn Russia into the picture, thus risking a possible confrontation with the former master of the region.

In this chapter I shall start out by discussing the emergence of a Turkic world in the 1990s and Turkey’s response to this huge challenge. A brief summary of Turkey’s interest in the fate of Turks in Greece and Bulgaria will be included to pinpoint Turkey’s mounting concern, judged from the increasing press coverage, about the well-being of fellow Turks in the neighbouring countries. I shall then address the Karabagh conflict between Azerbaijan and Armenia insofar as it influenced Turkish foreign policy. The existence of this conflict and the occupation of Azerbaijani territory by Armenians, as well as Armenian demands for recognition of the mutual clashes of 1915 as genocide, stood in the way of Turkey and Armenia establishing diplomatic relations. In fact, Turkish public opinion was ardently pro-Azerbaijan and the government was constrained both by its own populace and by Azerbaijan’s leaders, who specifically asked Turkey to refrain from making an overture to Armenia. Needless to say, Turkish–Armenian–Azerbaijani relations are complex. They include the role of nationalism, territorial claims by Armenia, an historical legacy of past grievances and the impact of an Armenian diaspora obsessed with the casualties of the First World War.

In the concluding section of the chapter I shall focus on Turkey’s policy towards the Karabagh conflict and its failure to become

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involved in the light of the Turkish foreign policy analysis undertaken in Chapter 3. Despite the inclination of President Özal and some representatives of the nationalist circles to intervene, or at least resort to creating a deterrence, by massing troops on the Armenian border, such an action would have jeopardized Turkish national security, particularly because Russia was behind Armenia and the existence of a strong Armenian lobby in the United States and France would surely have put pressure on their respective governments to restrain Turkey. Therefore, despite the existence of ideational factors favouring a more activist approach from Turkey, material variables (military and economic factors as well as a hostile international conjuncture to an intervention) prevented Turkey from intervening to assist fellow Turks in Karabagh.

There is no distinction in the Turkish language between Turkish and Turkic, but the differentiation exists in both English and Russian. Yet, because of the ‘artificiality’ of the concept, scholars such as Audrey Altstadt prefer to employ the concept Turkish for Azeris and other Turkic groups. As she explains: ‘The Turks of Azerbaijan were classified as Tatars or Muslims in the imperial period and as Turks until 1937’,1 even by the Soviet authorities. From that date onwards the term Azerbaijani was enforced on the people of Azerbaijan.

Despite the artificiality of the concept Turkic, I use it throughout this study to make a distinction between the Turks of Turkey, Cyprus, the Balkans and the Middle East (in a sense former Ottoman Turks) and the Turkic peoples living in the Caucasus and Central Asia. Moreover, such a distinction is in order because most Uzbek, Kazakh, Kyrgyz and other Turkic peoples do not regard themselves as Turks but rather as Uzbek, Kazakh and Kyrgyz respectively.

The Rise of the Turkic World from the Balkans to China Central Asia, historically known as Turkestan, is the original homeland of the Turks. Turks migrated from present day Mongolia to Central Asia and then further west, through Iran to Anatolia and the Balkans and from the north to the Caucasus and Crimea. The Turks also had a long odyssey towards the south – from Mongolia to Central Asia and to India through Afghanistan. Today Turkic peoples live in East Turkestan in China (the Xinjian province), in Russia, in the Caucasus,


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in the Crimea, in former Soviet Central Asia, namely Kazakhstan, Kyrgyztan, Uzbekistan, Turkmenistan, and as minorities in Tajikistan, Afghanistan, Iran, Iraq, Syria, Cyprus, and in the Balkans in Bulgaria, Greece, Romania, Moldova, Macedonia and Kosovo.

The Turkic peoples of Russia included the Volga Tatars, Bashkirs, Crimean Tatars, Azeris, Uzbeks, Kazakhs, Kyrgyz, Turkmen and many other small Turkic groups such as Balkars and Karachay in the Caucasus, Mesketians living in Georgia and Kazakhstan and the Yakut or Saha in the Far East. According to the 1897 census in tsarist Russia, Turkic people made up 10 per cent of the population and amounted to approximately 12 million people. They spoke ‘similar dialects’, yet the idea of a ‘single Turkic people’ only developed in the late nineteenth century and had little effect. Muslim identity predominated over Turkic identity. Muslim congresses were held in 1905 and 1906 in Nizhnii Novgorod and Moscow, at which regional autonomy was demanded.2

At the first All-Muslim Congress, which was held in Moscow on 1 May 1917, there was a clash between the Volga Tatars, who demanded national-cultural autonomy, and the Azerbaijanis led by Mehmed Emin Resulzade, who demanded territorial autonomy. The final resolution adopted at the congress called for a ‘democratic republic based on the national, territorial, and federal principles, with national-cultural autonomy for the nationalities which lack a distinct territory’. So there was a compromise between the two positions. The second congress was held in Kazan and later a national assembly was held in Ufa. At that assembly there was a Turkist fraction aimed at uniting all the Turks of Russia.3

The autonomy experienced by most subject peoples of Russia was extirpated in 1921. However, over a three-year period from 1917 to 1920, the idea of nationalism reached all the way to the masses.4 National governments were established from the Crimea, Azerbaijan, Georgia, Armenia to Kazakhstan during that time. These people were to regain their independence only in 1991 when the USSR ceased to exist as a political entity.

While pan-Turkism gained strength in the first quarter of the twentieth century, around 1900–20, scholars like İsmail Gaspıralı, also known as Gaspirinsky, advocated the improvement of cultural relations, including a common alphabet. In fact, his motto was unity in

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language, idea and action. This ideology was influential among Turkish intellectuals in Russia and the Ottoman Empire, but it never became state ideology in the latter.

With the establishment of the Turkish republic, pan-Turkism was explicitly discouraged. Peaceful coexistence within national boundaries was advocated. Therefore, Kemalist state identity did not allow for a pan-Turkist foreign policy. There were strong elements of nationalism in the official state ideology, but it was mostly inward looking. Other parts of the Turkic world were predominantly occupied by the Soviet Union, so any attempt to advocate their liberation would have led to deterioration in Turkish–Soviet relations. Such a policy would have been unwise, particularly since Turkey faced threats from the USSR and was worried about preserving its independence against that country.

The Soviet Union tried to divide the Turkic peoples of the USSR by creating different alphabets and imposing Russian words on Turkic dialects. It also tried to eradicate any cultural and political relations that might have existed between the Turkic peoples and Turkey.5 These attempts and constant pressure on Turkic Soviet republics not only weakened the common ties among themselves, but also whatever ties they might have enjoyed with Turkey.

One of the major weaknesses of pan-Turkism was that Turks lacked a common literary language, which Gaspıralı tried to create in the early twentieth century based on the Ottoman literary language. Different dialects became the national languages of Uzbekistan, Kazakhstan and the like. Certain areas of the Turkic world such as Tatarstan and Baskiria in Russia and East Turkestan in China have still not gained their independence. State identities seem to be getting stronger in the Turkic world. This is a legacy of the Soviet Union, where differences between the Turkic peoples were exaggerated and similarities minimized. Furthermore, Turks lack an all-Turk issue to unite them. This is because they have followed different political trajectories for centuries.

Turkish nationalism started out with the objective to unite all their kinsmen but it diverged from this goal as the Turks of Turkey established a nation-state with the aim of preserving their territorial integrity. Any form of irredentism would have jeopardized their


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security and existence. In fact, such a goal was not commensurate with their power. Declaring war on the USSR would have been nonsensical because of the size and strength of that country.

In the general area of Turkestan, there were supporters of Turkism but they lacked both popular and intellectual support so they were confined to small groups. In the 1920s, Uzbek intellectuals such as Süleyman Çolpan, Mustafa Çokay and Münevver Kari argued that Uzbeks were part of the Turkish nation. Contemporary Uzbek poet Muhammed Salih was adamant that Uzbeks and all Turkestanis were Turks. Hence, he argued for Turkestani unity and Turkish unity, the prospects of which worried all the neighbouring peoples.6 As a strong believer in pan-Turkism, he lived for a short time in Turkey as an exile, but had to leave when Uzbek president Islam Kerimov put pressure on the Turkish government.

The five Turkic republics gained their independence one by one as a result of the dissolution of the USSR. The initial excitement regarding pan-Turkism was partially motivated by the Turkic leaders and to some extent shared by both the peoples of the newly-born independent republics and Turkey. To give a few examples, Uzbek president Islam Kerimov called Demirel his elder brother, and Kyrgyz president Askar Akayev characterized Ankara as the morning star guiding all the newly-independent states.7 A political community could have been created between Turkey and the newly-emergent Turkic world. Cultural affinity, emotions and group identity could have been the leitmotif of Turkish foreign policy towards the Caucasus and Central Asia and other neighbouring areas where Turks resided. Also, people of Muslim and Turkish extraction in the Balkans, who were culturally close to Turkey, could have led to a new activism in Turkish foreign policy.8 As time went on, Turks realized that differences as well as similarities existed between the various groups. Any shared history among the Turkic peoples belonged to the distant past and their political cultures had diverged as a result of the long period of Russia’s subjugation of Turkestan and the Caucasus. Furthermore, they had never managed to create a common political agenda and a shared literary language.

As Turkey became aware of its restrictions, it did not conduct an irredentist policy but tried to resolve its problems multilaterally with

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the involvement of international organizations.9 Turkey’s more vital interests were in its relations with the United States, the European Union and Greece, as well as the Cyprus problem and the Kurdish question in both Turkey and in Iraq. Also, commercial relations with Russia were paramount because they were much more extensive than its trade with the Turkic world.10 Besides, it should be pointed out that the leaders of the Turkic republics were far more jealous about protecting their state interests than inclined to advocate a pan-Turkic ideal. In that sense, pan-Turkism was much weaker than pan-Arabism, since the latter had been popular, at least at the discourse level, for a long time. Consequently, pan-Turkist feelings had little or no repercussion on the foreign policies of Turkic states.

Turkey’s initial euphoria and later disappointment were both equally exaggerated.11 Turkey lacked the economic power to be the sole or major player in the region, yet it still had enough, hard as well as soft, power12 to be an influential actor in the Caucasus and Central Asian subsystems. If pan-Arabism offers enough precedence, state identities will get stronger in the Turkic world and endeavours to create a single political entity will grow commensurately weaker. A unified Turkic state seems unlikely to materialize for a long time to come, due to a large geography, cultural differences, state interests and leaders’ interests. However, the fact that even a Turkic league was not created demonstrates that pan-Turkism is much weaker than pan-Arabism.

The lack of unity among the Turkic states is manifested in the latter’s reluctance to recognize the Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus (TRNC), despite Turkey’s leverage on these former Soviet countries. Similarly, Azerbaijan received inadequate support from the Turkic world over the Nagorno-Karabagh conflict with the Armenians. The ongoing attempts in all these states to construct their own state identities might better explain their foreign policy decisions than any aspirations towards furthering their pan-Turkist ideals.

With the break up of the USSR in 1991, Turkey was suddenly confronted with five Turkic republics. President Turgut Özal looked upon this as a golden opportunity that only arose once every few centuries. Turkey was the first country to recognize these states


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because of the pressure from public opinion. Between 1989 and 1991 Turkey conducted its relations with the Turkic republics through Moscow. Between 1991 and 1993 it tried to promote itself as a model and leader of the newly-founded Turkic world. It tried to decrease Russian influence in the area. Between 1993 and 1995 Turkey realized that Russia could not be excluded from the region and after 1995 it tried to establish more balanced relations with the Turkic peoples and to coordinate policies with the Russian federation.13

The Turkish Cooperation and Development Agency (TIKA) was established in 1992 to set up economic, educational and cultural cooperation with the Turkic republics and neighbouring states. Around 10,000 scholarships were awarded to students from the Turkic world, mostly from the five former Muslim republics. So far, 2000 of them have graduated. At present 7000 are still continuing their studies. Turkey also sponsored the building of mosques in the republics. Despite being a secular state, throughout the Turkic world Turkey supported the dissemination of its own version of Islamic learning, as opposed to the Saudi or Iranian brands, in order to influence these newly independent peoples who lived with little knowledge of Islam because of the Soviet Union’s anti-religious policy. An example of Turkey’s help is the establishment of faculties of divinity in Azerbaijan, Kyrgyzstan and Turkmenistan.14

Russia was concerned about the prospects of a pan-Turkic empire and Prime Minister Süleyman Demirel’s visit to the area between 27 April and 3 May 1992 ignited these fears. The inclusion of the pan-Turkist Alparslan Türkeş in the delegation exacerbated these concerns. The first summit of Turkish-speaking countries was held in Ankara on 30–31 October 1992. Besides Turkey, Azerbaijan, Turkmenistan, Uzbekistan, Kazakhstan and Kyrgyzstan all participated in the conference at the presidential level. Özal argued that the twenty-first century would be the century of the Turks and called for the creation of a Turkic common market.

However, only the Azerbaijani president Abulfayz Elchibey supported these ideas. The other Turkic republics were reluctant to show any support, even at the discourse level, for the national causes of either Azerbaijan (Karabagh) or Turkey (Cyprus), which was obviously a major disappointment for Turkey. The other republics

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were worried about antagonizing Russia and were also aware of the meagreness of Turkey’s resources, whether economic, military or in the realm of ideas.15

Since there were no ideological road maps for their relations with Turkic peoples, the Turkish decision-makers were confused about how to frame their policies with respect to their newly-discovered kinsmen. They did not want to be branded pan-Turkists, but they were also unsure how to characterize their relations with their distant cousins. For the previous half century, any expression of interest in the fate of the Soviet Turks was branded as adventurism and racism. As a result, interest in the Turkic peoples of the Soviet Union was confined to the rather extreme nationalist supporters of Türkeş’s Nationalist Action Party. In other words, Turkey lacked the expertise to deal with Turks outside its boundaries and its involvement was confined to the Turks of neighbouring areas such as Hatay, Cyprus and Western Thrace. As far as Turkish foreign policy towards the Turkic world was concerned, there were elements of cultural pan-Turkism but no political pan-Turkism.16 In effect, the Turkish elite lacked a plan on how to cope with the new challenge of the Turkic world.

The Turkic summits were supposed to be held every year in a different country, but due to the reluctance of the leaders of the Turkic republics, the summits convened irregularly. The second summit was held in Istanbul on 18–19 October 1994. It confirmed the United Nations Security Council resolutions affirming Azeri sovereignty over Karabagh and envisaged the establishment of oil pipelines from Central Asia to Turkey.17

There was little policy coordination between the Turkic states. The major economic and strategic project was the Baku–Ceyhan pipeline connecting Azeri oil to the Turkish Mediterranean port. The United States supported this pipeline as an alternative to Middle East oil and to the Russian northern route. Also, there were plans to carry Turkmen natural gas to Turkey as part of the Trans-Caspian pipeline. The fact that Turkey bought significant amounts of natural gas from Russia caused strains in Turkmen–Turkish relations.18

Disappointed in its relations with Europe, Turkey believed that it could be the leader of a Turkic bloc of states. These aspirations were initially supported by the United States and the Turkic leaders


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themselves, but within a few years they wanted to develop political relations with the outside world, to be the masters in their own houses, so to speak. Because of Russian and Iranian opposition, Turkish ambitions were checked in the Caucasus and Central Asia. The major difference between the Turkish minorities living in the borderlands of Turkey and the five independent Turkic republics was that the former wanted Turkish involvement in their affairs, whereas the latter, as independent states, wanted a more limited Turkish involvement.19 After all, they had experienced long years of captivity and did not want a new big brother.

For the Turks in Greece, Bulgaria, Cyprus and Iraq, Turkey was a huge country, much larger and stronger than the countries in which they themselves lived. They were also culturally closer to Turkey than were the Central Asians who, through historical accident, had been left out of the Turkish republic: Turkey had lacked the power to incorporate places such as Western Thrace or the Mosul region into the Turkish republic at the end of its War of Independence. For the Turks of Greece, Bulgaria, Cyprus and Iraq, Turkey was their motherland and not the countries in which they resided. This perception existed for some time because the countries in which they lived discriminated against ethnic Turks. This conception might gradually change as they are politically integrated into the countries in which they are now living.

Whereas there was little cultural or linguistic difference between the mainland and its borderlands, Turks realized that the Turkic peoples did not really speak Turkish but rather Turkic dialects. And, with the exception of Azeri Turkish, these were not really intelligible to Turkish citizens. Also, they realized that the presidents of most of these republics preferred to speak Russian rather than the Turkic dialects, so the cultural convergence was less close than initially hoped. In March 1993, under the supervision of TIKA, a common Turkic alphabet was adopted.20 In the final analysis, Azerbaijan became the first among the former Soviet republics to adopt the Latin script. Turkish Radio and Television (TRT)-Eurasia tried to create a unity of language and thought among Turkic peoples by broadcasting to the Caucasus and Central Asia. All these policies can be seen as manifestations of pan-Turkism, at least at the cultural level. In conclusion, Turkey’s efforts to

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restore relations with the Central Asian republics never reached the level of Turco–Azerbaijani relations.

The special relationship that exists today between Turkey and Azerbaijan stems from a common language and culture. Also, the fact that the Azerbaijani constitution characterizes the state as a democratic secular republic, which was inspired by the Turkish constitution, creates an ideological similarity between the two countries.21 There are common interests at the economic level especially manifested in the Baku–Ceyhan oil pipeline project. This pipeline started carrying Azeri oil from the Caspian Sea through Georgia to the Turkish Mediterranean town of Ceyhan in July 2006. At the political level there is Turkish support for Azerbaijan on the Karabagh problem. There is an Azeri community living in eastern Turkey in cities such as Kars and Erzurum and this serves as a contributory factor in their bilateral relations. Furthermore, there is a common enemy, namely Armenia. These political, economic and cultural factors, which make Turkish–Azerbaijani relations special, are missing in Turkey’s liaisons with the other Turkic republics.22 The special relation is formulated as ‘one nation, two states’, yet the recent attempts of Turkey to open its borders with Armenia caused consternation in Azerbaijan.

The Turks of Greece and Bulgaria and Turkey’s Increasing Interest in their Fate With the advent of the 1980s, ‘the protection of the rights of Turkish minorities living in Bulgaria, Greece, and Yugoslavia was added to the Cyprus issue as a separate international cause of Turkey.’23 As mentioned before, Turkey was always reluctant to get involved in the affairs of fellow Turks living outside its boundaries. Yet, first with Hatay and then with Cyprus, enough precedence was established for Turkey to get involved in the affairs of external Turks. Unlike Turkish Cypriots, the Turks of Greece were part of the National Pact, which envisioned holding a referendum for them to determine their fate.

The Turks of Bulgaria, numbering around a million and a half, faced a number of pressures, which culminated in the forced change of names from Turkish to Bulgarian in 1972, reaching its climax in 1984. Between 1950 and 1978, approximately 300,000 Bulgarian Turks migrated to Turkey encouraged by the Bulgarian government. In 1985


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Turkey proposed a negotiated settlement that would result in the total emigration of the Turkish population to Turkey.24 Bulgaria rejected this offer.

As Turkey failed to resolve the problem bilaterally, it carried the problem to multilateral platforms and mobilized Muslim states within the OIC. At the sixteenth Islamic Conference of Foreign Ministers held in Fez, Morocco in January 1986, the conference expressed solidarity with the Turkish minority in Bulgaria and demanded that ‘all the rights of the Turkish Muslim minority in Bulgaria be fully restored’. In the final report of the OIC’s foreign ministers’ meeting in Amman held in March 1988, the ‘continuing repression against the Muslim minority in Bulgaria’ was deplored and an official request was made for their religious and cultural rights to be respected. There were six reservations to this resolution, namely Algeria, Cameroon, Libya, Palestine, Syria and the People’s Democratic Republic of Yemen. These countries had special relations with Bulgaria and the Soviet bloc.25 We see a multilateral approach instead of unilateral pressure on Bulgaria, which would have triggered Soviet involvement in the affair to the detriment of Turkey.

The situation deteriorated in 1984 when the state authorities killed 2000 Turks because of their resistance to the Bulgarization campaign.26 There were nationalist demonstrations throughout Turkey demanding military intervention in Bulgaria. In the summer of 1989, due to increasing pressure on the Turks, 300,000 migrated to Turkey.27

It has been argued by a pundit that there could be no normal relations between Turkey and Bulgaria until the oppression stops.28 This is indicative of the point that Turkey cannot remain idle when ethnic Turks are being massacred in a neighbouring country. In reaction to Turkish public opinion, Turkey exerted pressure on Bulgaria at the bilateral level and carried the issue to international platforms such as the OIC to mobilize multilateral support for the protection of Bulgarian Turks.

After the fall of the communist regime in 1989, Turkish names and most rights of the Turks were restored.29 The Rights and Freedoms Movement, which Ahmet Doğan established in 1990, started to have an influence on Bulgarian politics. In fact, he became the king maker by joining or refusing to join ruling coalitions.30

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The Turkish minority living in Western Thrace, Greece was also the subject of Turkish concern. Turkey again mobilized the OIC in 1990 and 1991, which expressed concern over the fate of Turks in Greece.31 Yet, it should be added that in both the Bulgarian and Greek cases, OIC involvement did not amount to more than a moral condemnation of the respective countries, with little impact at the political level.

Today the Turks of Greece still have problems recognizing their identity. The Greek government looks upon the Turks as a Muslim minority and refuses to recognize them as Turks; it sees them rather as Muslim Hellenes. The Greek government’s insistence on this terminology is based on the Treaty of Lausanne, which refers to the Muslims of Western Thrace and the Greek Orthodox people of Istanbul without any reference to ethnicity. Recently, a cultural union, the Xsanti Turkish Union, was closed down because it contained the word ‘Turkish’ in its name.32 Today, the Turkish government’s involvement continues to consist of declaratory support for the Western Thrace Turks but with no active involvement. One interesting point is that the cultural associations of Western Thrace Turks in Europe have closer relations with the Turkish embassies and consulates than with the Greek diplomatic missions, for they invite Turkish diplomats to their meetings in preference to Greek diplomats. This suggests that they feel closer to Ankara than to Athens.

The brief discussion of the two cases of Turks in Greece and Turks in Bulgaria once again demonstrates the sensitivity of Turkish decision makers to the problems of Turks living in neighbouring countries and suggests that severe pressure on them would elicit a Turkish response. However, the kind of Turkish involvement very much depends on the factors discussed in Chapter 3. In the OIC, for example, the level of involvement was minimal, in fact restricted to official declarations and diplomacy. This was because Turkish involvement in Greece and Bulgaria would present threats to Turkish national security. Bulgaria was a close ally of the Soviet Union for most of the period in question, so any Turkish escalation of the conflict would have resulted in reciprocal Soviet behaviour. Greece was a fellow ally of Turkey in NATO and the United States would have condemned any covert operations or outright intervention in Greece.


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Besides the international factors, there were also domestic considerations at play. While the majority of people in Turkey took an interest in the affairs of the Balkan Turks, as evidenced by the public demonstrations held in the main squares of all the major cities of Turkey and attended by thousands of people, there was insufficient consensus to escalate the involvement from public declarations of support to military intervention. In conclusion, these factors limited Turkish involvement in Western Thrace and Bulgaria.

Shadow of the Nagorno-Karabagh Conflict over Turkish Foreign Policy The Nagorno-Karabagh region (nagorno meaning mountainous in Russian and karabagh black vineyard in Turkish) comprises only a fraction of the Karabagh region. As a khanate (namely a political entity ruled by a Khan), Karabagh was established in the early eighteenth century and continued to exist as an independent political entity until Russia occupied it in 1826. According to the official Russian census, 65 per cent of the region was Turkish and 35 per cent Armenian.33 In 1897 the ratio was 53 per cent to 45 per cent respectively.34 By 1917 there were 300,000 Azeris and 240,000 Armenians in Karabagh.35

Russia occupied the khanates of Baku and Kuba in 1806. With the Treaty of Gulistan in 1813, a village in Karabagh, Russia received all parts of northern Azerbaijan except Nahcevan.36 With the Treaty of Turkmenchai in 1828, Russia consolidated its rule over northern Azerbaijan, including Karabagh. With this treaty the region traditionally known as Azerbaijan was divided into two, the northern section as part of Russia until 1991 and the southern region with Tabriz as its political, economic and cultural centre under Iranian rule. Iranian Azerbaijan got its independence between 1945 and 1946 with Soviet help, but the Soviet forces had to withdraw from the region upon pressure by the United States on the Soviet government.37

Yet, among the Turkic peoples of Russia/USSR, the Azeris and the Crimean Tatars felt a stronger cultural affinity towards the Ottoman Empire/Turkey than other Turkic/Muslim peoples. The Crimea until the late eighteenth century and Azerbaijan for short periods of time in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries were under Ottoman sovereignty. There were also Tatars and Azerbaijanis living in Turkey.

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This state of affairs, coupled with the Tatars and Azeris having a very similar dialect to that spoken in Turkey, resulted in a close liaison between the Turks of Anatolia and the Balkans and the two peoples in question.

The advent of nationalism in Azerbaijan in the early twentieth century was very much a product of intellectuals. The Musavat (Equality) Party was established by Mehmed Emin Resulzade in 1911. Initially the party’s programme aimed at the unification of all Muslims, but by 1917 its programme was declaring that ‘Turks constitute a single nation’ and was expressing the hope that one day a united Turkish world would emerge.38 Musavat’s nationalism was very much a liberal understanding of nationalism with the emphasis on universal suffrage, freedom of speech and conscience and equality for all the citizens of the Republic of Azerbaijan.39 Newspapers in Azerbaijan also played an important role in the articulation of nationalism. The daily Açıksöz (The Candid Word) expressed for the first time the idea that people known as Caucasian Muslims or Tatars were in fact Turks.40

Azerbaijani national identity is defined as Turkish, Azerbaijani Turk or simply as Azerbaijani. The first two categorizations are ethnic, whereas the third definition is a civic-territorial definition of the nation. All the identities above include non-Azeri Muslim minorities such as Tat or Talish, who are Persian speakers but they exclude Russian, Armenian or Georgian minorities living in Azerbaijan.41 An astute analyst of Azerbaijan characterizes the nationalism as ‘Turkic and Islamic in content’, socialist in rhetoric with ‘a reformist, constitutionalist spirit’.42

The Soviets wanted to encourage cultural divergence between its Turkic peoples and Turkey. The Azeris used the Arabic script just like other Turks in the world until 1926. Between 1926 and 1939, Azerbaijani Turkish was written in the Latin alphabet and from the latter date until 1991 Cyrillic was utilized. In 1991, the Latin alphabet was adopted once again.43 The 1926 decision to change the script from Arabic to Latin was undertaken by the Soviet authorities to drive a wedge between the Turkic peoples of the USSR and Turkey. When Turkey switched its alphabet from Arabic to Latin in 1928, the previous decision lost its raison d’être, so all the Muslim republics turned to Cyrillic.


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It was Stalin who called Azeri Turkish as the ‘Azerbaijani language’ in 1937. On 22 December 1992, however, the national assembly of independent Azerbaijan changed it to the ‘Turkish language’, which was the official language of Azerbaijan from 1992 to 1995. In 1995, though, Article 21 of the new constitution defined the official language as Azerbaijani.44 As far as the Azeri national identity is concerned, the two successive presidents, Abulfayz Elchibey and Haidar Aliyev, clearly had diverging perceptions, which can be seen in the characterization of the Azerbaijani language in the constitution. Regionalism dominated after the 1995 constitution, which declared the official language to be Azerbaijani, whereas in 1992 ‘the Turkish language was declared to be the official language’.45 The fall of Elchibey and his replacement by Aliyev corresponded with the transition from an ethnic based identity to a territorial definition of the Azeri nation.

Historical Narrative of Turkish–Azerbaijani Relations At the end of the First World War, Turkish forces entered Azerbaijan at the request of Mehmed Emin Resulzade and entered Baku on 15 September 1918. However, when the Treaty of Mudros was signed on 30 October of the same year, they had to leave the entire Caucasus region, including Azerbaijan.46 Later on Atatürk secretly expressed his desire that Azerbaijan should remain an independent republic and that Karabagh should remain under Azeri sovereignty. He also warned that this position should not provoke the Russians and should be articulated within the parameters of self-determination.47

The Azerbaijan Democratic Republic was established on 28 May 1918, with its capital in Genja. Mehmed Emin Resulzade became its president and Fethali Khan Hoyski its prime minister. The republic declared Turkish to be the official language and made it the obligatory medium of instruction in all schools. As a result of this situation, even though Turkey could not become actively involved in the affairs of the Caucasus, it sent approximately 300 teachers to Azerbaijan between 1917 and 191948 to preserve the cultural link with Azerbaijan. However, Bolshevik forces occupied independent Azerbaijan on 27 April 1920, thus extirpating Azeri independence. The allies recognized the state in a de facto manner, whereas Iran

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granted de jure recognition to the newborn state. Resulzade was first imprisoned but later taken to Moscow to teach at the Oriental Institute. In a book he wrote in 1922, Resulzade characterized the state as the ‘first republic in the Islamic world’ and in the Turkish world. He defined Azerbaijanis as Turks and the territory they occupied, which included Baku, Genja, Yerevan, Tabriz and Ardabil and Karabagh, as the land of the Azeri Turks.49 It should be pointed out that Azeri nationalists such as Resulzade and later Elchibey were emotionally attached and wanted the redemption of southern Azerbaijan, which is the area in Iran inhabited by Azeris and which includes cities such as Tabriz and Ardabil.

The revolutionary military committee that Neriman Nerimanov established presented the Azeri government with an ultimatum to hand over power to this committee. Consequently, on 27 April 1920 the government resigned and the two-year independence of Azerbaijan was over.50 After the 11th Red Army occupied Baku, Neriman Nerimanov was appointed chairman of the Azeri Revolutionary Command – (Azrevkom),51 and consequently the ruler of the country.

Initially, Turkey supported the independence of the Trans-Caucasian republics of Azerbaijan and Georgia, but as a result of the increasing demand for Bolshevik support for Turkey’s independence struggle, it did not oppose the Bolshevization of the area.52 It is claimed that the Kemalists helped the Communist Party of Azerbaijan to overthrow the government. While there is no denying that the Soviet Union and Turkey established cordial relations at the time,53 Turkey’s involvement in the Bolshevization of Azerbaijan seems to be more as a passive observer than an active collaborator. In other words, Turkey did not want to jeopardize its national struggle to establish a national state on the territory of what was left of the Ottoman Empire. This was a typical foreign policy reflex for most countries – a preference for survival over principled idealized behaviour.

Despite the end of Azerbaijani independence, Resulzade said that the idea of independence was well and alive. He clarified the tricolour Azeri flag – the blue denoting Turkishness, the green Islam and the red modernity and reform. He pointed out that these three ideas were derived from Ziya Gökalp, one of the founders of Turkish nationalism.54 In fact, Gökalp had borrowed these concepts from the


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Azeri Ali Hüseyinzade, who formulated them as ‘Turkification, Islamization, Europeanization’.55

Azerbaijanis suffered severely during the Soviet era and the Great Terror of 1937 had an especially brutal impact on modern Azeri national identity. During this time more than 70,000 Azeris perished under Stalin’s terror. Furthermore, the feeling of a united Azerbaijan, superficially divided by Russians into north (the contemporary republic of Azerbaijan) and south (ruled by Iran), is also a contributing factor in the development of Azeri identity.56 Those arrested and executed included intellectuals, artists and members of the ruling elite in Azerbaijan. The purges liquidated all elements that had the slightest national inclinations and resulted in the unquestionable consolidation of Soviet power.57 This great tragedy served as a symbol around which all Azerbaijanis could unite.

Karabagh remained part of the Democratic Republic of Azerbaijan. The Bolshevik regime under Neriman Nerimanov agreed that Karabagh should be returned to Armenia, which had demanded the territory in question to be incorporated into Armenia. However, the Soviet rulers decided that the region was to be part of Azerbaijan when the Nagorno-Karabagh Autonomous Oblast was created in 1924.58 At the time, the majority of the population of the region was Armenian.59

The problem with Karabagh was that both Armenians and Azeris claimed the area. As mentioned above, the Armenians had a clear majority in Karabagh. In 1979 for instance, 76 per cent of the population was Armenian, and 24 per cent Azeri. In 1963 there were intercommunal clashes between the Armenians and Azeris in Karabagh. What ignited this conflict were Armenian demands for the incorporation of the region into Armenia. From that date on Armenians tried to keep their demands alive with various methods. For instance, in 1965 there was a ceremony to commemorate the fiftieth anniversary of the ‘genocide of 1915’ and demands for ‘our lands’ in Turkey and Azerbaijan.60

The Nagorno-Karabagh conflict prompted the first demonstrations against the communist regime in Baku. Throughout 1988, the Armenians of Karabagh demanded incorporation into Armenia. In fact on 15 June, the Armenian Soviet Socialist Republic accepted the Karabagh Armenians’ desire for unification with Armenia proper.61

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The Azeris believed that their government was failing to protect the national interests of Azerbaijan. On 16 May 1988 in Lenin Square – renamed Azadlıq (independence) Square – in Baku, demonstrators demanded the protection of what they labelled as the Azeri territory of Karabagh. From 17 November to 15 December a series of demon-strations were held in Baku as a protest against Armenian activities in Karabagh. Slogans such as ‘Long Live Independent and United Azerbaijan’, and ‘Long live the Turkish Nation’ were heard. The Soviet authorities crushed these demonstrations on 5 December 1988 and the leader of the national movement Abulfayz Elchibey was arrested.62

Azeri demands for independence included full sovereignty over Karabagh. Demonstrations restarted in May 1989 when the tricolour flag of the Democratic Republic of Azerbaijan (1918–20) was raised and, on 16 July 1989, the Azerbaijani Popular Front was established under the leadership of Elchibey. It aimed to achieve full indepen-dence and the creation of a democratic state in which the rule of law reigned supreme. In its modified programme of 1992, which followed the declaration of independence, the Popular Front aimed to create an ‘independent, united, democratic Azerbaijan’.63 A united Azerbaijan meant an irredentist policy aimed at uniting northern Azerbaijan, namely the Republic of Azerbaijan, with southern Azerbaijan in Iran.

Nationalist fervour, both in Armenia and Azerbaijan, over Karabagh led to clashes in the region, which ignited intercommunal warfare. As a result it was becoming increasingly impossible for Azeris to live in Armenia proper and for Armenians to live in Azerbaijan. In January 1990 a number of Armenians were killed in the capital, Baku. In response, the Red Army entered the city on 20 January 1990 and killed 131 Azeris. This caused widespread resentment in Azerbaijan against the USSR. Memorial services for the dead drew two million people. As a result of these events, Ayaz Muttalibov replaced the first secretary of the Azerbaijani Communist Party.64

The Republic of Azerbaijan got its independence on 18 October 1991 during the process of the disintegration of the Soviet Union. In November, the Azeris eradicated the autonomy of Nagorno-Karabagh65 and from that date onwards, the Karabagh problem became a top priority for Azerbaijani foreign policy. But, on 10 December 1991, the Karabagh Armenians held a referendum, which


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confirmed their desire to secede from Azerbaijan with 99.89 per cent of the vote. And in early 1992, Karabagh declared its independence. Only Armenia recognized the state. Turkey recognized Azerbaijan on 9 November 1991 and established an embassy in January 1992 in Baku.66 However, Turkish Prime Minister Demirel criticized the eradication of Karabagh’s autonomy on 26 November 1991 as detrimental to regional peace and security.67

The clashes in Karabagh assumed the characteristics of a real war in October 1991 with the massive onslaught of Armenians on Azeri occupied areas. The Armenian army was involved in the fighting on the side of the Karabagh Armenians. The Azeris claimed that the Russian army deployed in Armenia also became involved in the fighting and helped the Armenian forces. Scholars also claim that Russian units from Armenia were involved in the occupation of Shusha and Lachin. Russian complicity in the overthrow of Elchibey is also likely. The Russian forces evacuating the Genja region left their weapons to Colonel Suret Husseinov, the instigator of the coup against Elchibey.68

Armenians captured the Azeri city of Khojaly on 26 February 1992 and 452 Azeris were killed as a result of that particular clash. During the armed clashes, Russian forces actively aided the Armenians. Azerbaijan officially accused the Russian forces in Stepanakert (Hankendi) of being actively involved in the fighting against the Azeris.69 After the Khojaly massacre, President Muttalibov had to resign on 26 March 1992 because of mass public pressure.70

Some 25,000 people died as a result of the Karabagh conflict.71 In the Khojaly massacre a total of 1000 people lost their lives. As a result of the fighting in Karabagh, which started in 1990, 340,000 Armenians left Azerbaijan and more than 500,000 Azeris fled from Armenia and Karabagh.72 Altogether, there were one million Azeri refugees (kaçkın). Azerbaijan lost the entire oblast as well as areas in Azerbaijan proper, amounting to 20 per cent of its territory.73

In the early 1990s there was more talk in the Turkish media about intervention. These massacres were widely covered in the press, resulting in indignation among the Turkish people. Needless to say, Turkish public opinion was overwhelmingly pro-Azeri. There were calls for involvement ranging from massing troops on the border to

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outright intervention. For example, the massacre in Baku on 20 January 1990 that left 131 dead led to demonstrations in Turkey.74 In Turkey there was much interest in the affairs of Karabagh Azeris and the nationalist press continued to focus on Karabagh. In fact, it was reported that in the early 1990s as a consequence of the Armenian occupation of 20 per cent of Azeri territory, including Karabagh and some territory in Azerbaijan proper, one million Azeris were forced to flee their homes.

The nationalist press described these incidents as genocide and ethnic cleansing,75 thus throwing back the accusation of genocide in the faces of the Armenians. Demonstrations demanding intervention increased as a result of the aroused interest in Azeri matters.76 As a result of this state of affairs Turkey imposed an embargo on Armenia. Fighting in Azerbaijan spread to Nahcevan in May 1992. President Özal and foreign minister Çetin warned that Turkey might send troops. However, Russian reaction was swift and severe. The CIS armed forces commander, Marshall Shaposhnikov warned that such a move would result in a third world war and this deterred Turkey from taking such action. As a result, Prime Minister Demirel in his visit to Moscow in 1992 assured the Russians that Turkey would not use armed force.77

On 2 May 1992 Prime Minister Demirel, together with Türkeş, visited Baku and the two governments made a joint declaration affirming that ‘the Mountainous Karabagh is Azerbaijani territory’ and that a peaceful solution of the problem was essential. This visit boosted the chances for the election of Elchibey as president. Türkeş, in fact, participated in one of Elchibey’s political rallies. As a result of strong nationalist fervour in favour of Elchibey, he was elected president on 7 June 1992 with 59 per cent of the votes.78 There was no blemish on the democratic process as Elchibey was elected. He was a romantic nationalist with a strong Turkish identity. Yet his policy of a united Azerbaijan antagonized Iran and his pro-Turkish sentiments worried Russia. He constantly argued that Iran was a multi-ethnic empire destined to be dismembered. In a speech he made at the Turkish parliament, he stated that Turkey and Atatürk were models for him,79 but failure on the Karabagh front was to bring his downfall.

In the struggle over Karabagh, Armenians had strong supporters.


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Andrei Sakharov, the famous physicist and Nobel laureate, supported the Armenian claims as well as Gorbachev’s adviser Abel Adanbegiyan. They argued that Karabagh was historically Armenian territory and that it should be returned to that country.80 One also needs to note the existence of a strong Armenian lobby in the United States. In fact, Governor George Deukmejian of California was an ardent supporter of Armenian national aspirations. The first foreign minister of independent Armenia in 1991 was Rafi Hovanissian, who was also an American citizen.81

The Armenian perception of the Karabagh conflict is summarized by the former Armenian foreign minister Rafi Hovanissian in a pamphlet called, Nagorno Karabagh: A White Paper. In this paper he argues that the Republic of Nagorno-Karabagh is an independent state that the international community should recognize. The region needs protection because of the genocide perpetrated by the Turks and the pogroms committed by Azeris against the Armenians. This study reflects the official position of Armenia and expresses Armenia’s willingness to evacuate the territories occupied in 1993 beyond Karabagh in Azerbaijan proper in return for a peace agreement.82

Besides being culturally and linguistically the closest state to Turkey, Azerbaijan was also ‘the most strategically located Turkic state’ because of its oil resources. Turkey’s priorities vis-à-vis Azerbaijan were the protection of Azerbaijani independence, including its territorial integrity and control over Karabagh, the establishment of a pro-Turkey government, prevention of Russian influence in the Caucasus region and involvement in the production and transportation of oil through Turkey.83 The programme of the Turkish coalition government – DSP–MHP–ANAP – in 1999 called for the completion of the Baku–Ceyhan pipeline, demanded that Armenia withdraw from occupied Azeri territories and that it stop its hostile propaganda against Turkey84 with respect to its calls for recognition of the alleged genocide of 1915.

The clashes in Karabagh continued and culminated in the Armenian capture of Lachin. With Lachin’s fall, Azeris asked for military help from Turkey, which the latter declined. President Elchibey demanded helicopters from Turkey with which to evacuate Azeri civilians stranded in the fighting area. Prime Minister Demirel, however, refused because he was anxious not to antagonize Russia.

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Among the Turkish decision makers President Özal wanted a more activist foreign policy, whereas Premier Demirel represented the more cautious traditional foreign policy. The latter did not want to confront Russia because of the Karabagh dispute. In fact many Turkish leaders found Elchibey too radical. After Elchibey’s fall, the Turkish government faced a lot of criticism and, as a response, foreign minister Hikmet Çetin asked ‘What, we were supposed to create another Cyprus?’85

The CSCE meeting in Prague on 28 February 1992 affirmed that Karabagh was part of Azeri territory. At this summit the Minsk Group, including France, Russia, Italy, Sweden, the United States and Turkey, was established within the CSCE with the aim of solving the Karabagh problem.86 As a member of the Minsk Group, Turkey demonstrated its active interest and support for Azerbaijan at this and other multilateral platforms. Its involvement in multilateral diplomacy also shows that Turkey preferred the peaceful resolution of the conflict instead of a military engagement in the region.

Between 1994 and 1996 the OSCE took over the Russian monopoly of the early 1990s on arbitration efforts to solve the Karabagh conflict. From 1996 to 1999, Russia and the United States were influential within the OSCE Minsk Group and since 1999 the USA has had the upper hand in the bargaining process.87 On 30–31 October 1992 the Turkic states of Azerbaijan, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Uzbekistan, Turkey and Turkmenistan held the first all-Turkic summit in Ankara, in which the final press communiqué entailed an expression of ‘solidarity with the Turkish Cypriot People’ and called for a ‘withdrawal of the foreign states from the Azerbaijan territory’ of Nagorno-Karabagh. The Ankara declaration adopted during this meeting pointed out ‘special ties stemming from common history, language and culture among the peoples’ and called for increased cooperation in all fields among the six republics. The next summit was to be held in Baku in October 1993.88

Just as Turkey carried the problem of Turks of Greece and Bulgaria to the OIC, it also brought the Karabagh issue to the Islamic organization. Another example of multilateral Turkish diplomacy was the decision by the OIC on 28 July 2001, in which Armenian ‘aggression’ against Azerbaijan was condemned and Armenia was


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called upon to withdraw from occupied territories.89 The OIC has made a tradition of condemning Armenia for its occupation of Karabagh, demanding a total withdrawal from the region,90 yet these declarations are of little political value.

As Azerbaijan imposed an economic blockade against Armenia, in March 1992 Turkey started checking aircraft for arms when they passed through Turkish air space on their way to Armenia. However, in the meantime Turkey believed that the Armenian President Levon Ter-Petrossian was open for dialogue and sold 100,000 tons of grain and decided to sell 300 million kilowatts of electricity. The latter deal was cancelled as there was a strong reaction from Azerbaijan as the foreign minister Tevfik Kasimov criticized the energy deal as ‘a stab in the back’.91

The existence of a strong Armenian lobby in the United States worked to the detriment of Azerbaijan. As a result of the activities of this lobby favouring Armenia, in 1992 the US Congress passed Section 907 of the US Freedom Support Act, which forbade aid to Baku because of its imposition of an embargo on Armenia and its use of force against Karabagh. Clinton, however, lifted some parts of this legislation and allowed humanitarian assistance by NGOs to Azer-baijan, through which the latter received more than 100 million dollars. Congress passed this act on 24 October 1992 and provided aid to 11 former Soviet republics to enable them to achieve a smooth transition to democracy and a free market economy.92 This was an interesting piece of legislation because Azerbaijan was viewed as the aggressor and Armenia, which occupied Karabagh (considered as Azeri territory by the international community), was left without any criticism. On the other hand, there were complaints by Armenian scholars that the American media were biased towards Azerbaijan and Turkey and that they exaggerated the Armenian massacres of Azeris in Karabagh.93

Armenia’s occupation of Karabagh and other Azeri territories, as well as its insistence that Turkey recognize its genocide , made it impossible for Turkey to establish normal diplomatic relations with Armenia.94 To some extent, Turkey’s Armenia policy was predicated on the resolution of the Karabagh dispute and on Armenia desisting from its campaign to compel Turkey to recognize the ‘Armenian genocide’.

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On 4 April 1993 Armenians occupied the Azeri town of Kelbejar and opened a second corridor between Karabagh and Armenia. The first corridor had been opened with the capture of Lachin on 17 May 1992.95

Both Turkey and the United States condemned the occupation of Kelbejar on 3 April 1993. Turkey stopped the transit passage of humanitarian aid to Armenia and the Third Army in eastern Anatolia was moved to the Armenian border.96 The United Nations Security Council Resolution 822, adopted on 30 April 1993, demanded that local Armenians evacuate Kelbejar and other rayons (districts) of Azerbaijan.97 The resolution noted with alarm ‘the invasion of the Kelbadjar [sic.] district of the Republic of Azerbaijan by local Armenian forces’ and called for ‘the immediate cessation of all hostilities’ and ‘withdrawal of all occupying forces from the Kelbejar district and other recently occupied areas of Azerbaijan’. Resolution 822 also affirmed ‘the territorial integrity of all States in the region’ and wanted the peaceful resolution of the conflict within the framework of CSCE’s Minsk Group.98

The UN Security Council adopted similar resolutions after Agdam fell to Armenian forces in July 1993. This was condemned by Resolution 853, which demanded the withdrawal of Armenian forces from Agdam and other occupied areas. In addition, Resolution 853 urged Armenia to put pressure on the Armenians of Nagorno-Karabagh to accept Resolutions 822 and 853 and to accept the proposals of the Minsk Group.99 Resolution 884 was adopted on 12 November 1993 as a reaction to the occupation of the Zangelan district and the city of Goradiz by Armenian forces. The Security Council specifically condemned this occupation and Armenia was asked to withdraw. The UN Security Council reiterated its previous demands against Armenia to put pressure on the Armenians of Karabagh to comply with all the relevant resolutions. This resolution also specifically refers to Nagorno-Karabagh as Azerbaijani territory.100

So, it would be correct to say that UN Security Council Resolutions 822, 874 and 884 confirmed that Karabagh was Azerbaijani territory and that its territorial integrity should be preserved.101 At its Lisbon summit in 1996, the OSCE affirmed the territorial integrity of both Armenia and Azerbaijan, and demanded wide-ranging autonomy for


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Karabagh.102 However, Armenia was the only country not to sign the final document.103 Moreover, in 1998, the Minsk Group suggested the common state formula for the settlement of the conflict. In other words, mountainous Karabagh would have international represen-tation and be a state within a state. Azerbaijan would have lost effective control over the territory and would have only nominal sovereignty over Karabagh. Because of this state of affairs Azerbaijan rejected the formula.104

Turkey did not directly get involved when the rebellious Colonel Suret Huseyinov ousted Elchibey from power in 1993. Russia supported Colonel Suret Huseyinov’s rebellion in Gence, as well as the separatist demands of the Lezgis in the north and of the Talish people in the south. Huseyinov was appointed prime minister after the arrival of Haidar Aliyev from Nahcevan and the separatist movements stopped.105 Haidar Aliyev replaced Elchibey as president. Irrespective of whether Turkey had the power to keep Elchibey in power, it had lost its closest ally in the region, and one who had been a great admirer of Atatürk.

Even though Turkey was not fully committed to Azerbaijan, as a result of the ‘kin-country syndrome’ Turkey and Azerbaijan established a close liaison106 that continued beyond the fall of Elchibey and death of Haidar Aliyev. The overthrow of the pro-Turkish Elchibey in July 1993 ushered in the old guard Haidar Aliyev as president; he had become first secretary of the Azerbaijani Communist Party in 1969 and ruled until 1987. He had the rank of general at the KGB and had been a member of the Politburo in Moscow. He showed allegiance to Moscow but at the same time allowed national awakening in arts and history. He was successful at walking a tightrope. He was the most influential figure in modern Azerbaijani history. He abrogated the oil agreement and gave up 10 per cent of Baku’s shares to Russia.

Elchibey had agreed to allow Western and Turkish oil firms to exploit the oil fields. Aliyev also decided to join the CIS but did not allow Russian troops into his country.107 The Russian army of 60,000 had withdrawn from Azerbaijan by 1993, whereas it continued to be deployed in Armenia, although its size had diminished from 25,000 to 5000.108 Aliyev did not follow a pro-Russian policy as expected by the Turkish enlightened public but rather played a balancing game between

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Russia, Turkey and other countries in the region. That Russia was not fully satisfied with him can be seen in the Russian instigated coup of 1994. However, this change in power no doubt decreased Turkish influence and meant a partial failure for Turkey.

There was another coup attempt against Aliyev in March 1995, but he was successful in averting this conspiracy. For a short time, relations between Turkey and Azerbaijan deteriorated because President Aliyev accused Turkish intelligence officers of being involved in the coup against him. In April, Turkish Prime Minister Tansu Çiller paid a visit to Baku during which relations looked extremely positive.109 Haidar Aliyev’s visit to Ankara from 5 to 9 May 1997 led to the conclusion of a number of important agreements, especially the Strategic Partnership Declaration. According to this document, Azerbaijan conceded that the oil drilled from the Caspian Sea would be transported through Turkey to the world markets. From that period onwards, relations have been stable, close and cooperative and Turkey did not change its policy towards Karabagh. There was a special relationship based on a one nation–two states formula, which was pronounced by both Aliyev and Demirel.110

Just as Karabagh occupies a central position for Azerbaijani foreign and domestic policy, it also is a top priority for Armenian foreign and domestic policy. All the political parties represented in the Armenian parliament accepted a joint declaration on Karabagh, which entailed either independence for Karabagh or unification with Armenia proper.111 Petrosyan was accused of treason for having accepted the OSCE’s Minsk Group’s peace plan. He was forced to resign in February 1998 and the leader of Karabagh Armenians, Robert Kocharyan, a former Azerbaijani citizen, was elected as president of Armenia.112

At the Yalta conference of the BSEC in 1998, Armenia wanted Turkey to open its border with Armenia but president Demirel told his counterpart that Armenia first had to withdraw from the territories it occupied in Azerbaijan and stop making genocide claims. Kocharyan repeated official Armenian theses but also said that they were aware of Turkey’s weight in the Caucasus.113 Throughout 2001, Prime Minister Ecevit and deputy prime ministers Yılmaz and Bahçeli reiterated Turkey’s position that normal


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diplomatic relations with Armenia would only be established after the resolution of the Karabagh problem. This has been Turkey’s official position since Armenia’s independence in 1991.114

Karabagh should not be perceived as a religious conflict but as ‘an ethnic Armenian-Turkish’ dispute115 over the same piece of territory. Azerbaijanis are implied with the term ‘Turkish’, not Turkey. The latter was unable to challenge Russia in Karabagh in particular, and the Turkic republics in general. After all, during the republican era, Turkey to a large extent lost its imperial reflexes. Yet, it is still an important regional player but much less influential than Russia. Turkey continues to give military aid and provide military training to Azerbaijan.116 However, one should point out that passive Turkish policy to Azerbaijan caused disappointment among Azerbaijanis.

The importance of Karabagh for Turkey stems from its proximity, being in its ‘geostrategic backyard’, and the security threat because of Armenian irredentism and the existence of ethnic Turks. However it should be emphasized that security interests are more important than ‘ethnic solidarity’. Although Russia is the major player in the area, Turkey cannot be ruled out either.117 Evidently, they are not on the same footing, Russia being the much stronger party, but Turkey is still a regional player, which needs to be taken into account.

Turkey’s special interest in the area also has some legal foun-dations. The Moscow Treaty between Turkey and the USSR signed on 16 March 1921 and the Kars Treaty of 13 October 1921, signed between Turkey and the three Caucasian republics of Armenia, Azerbaijan and Georgia affirm that Nahcevan should remain as an autonomous region under Azeri protection and that the region should never be transferred to another state.118 Some Turkish diplomats and politicians analysed this article as a Turkish right of guarantee as the protector of the status quo, similar to the Treaty of Guarantee between Turkey and Cyprus, but this is rather far-fetched. What is relevant is that because of the common border with Nahcevan, in fact the only Azerbaijani–Turkish border, Turkish decision makers do not want a hostile country to capture the region. That is why Turkey was more adamant as far as Nahcevan was concerned. As this autonomous region was right on the Turkish border, Turkish politicians specifically said that they would uphold their responsibilities if Armenians

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occupied the region. But both president Özal and Prime Minister Demirel said that they could not fight for Azerbaijan.119

Armenia is a complicating factor for Turkey’s relations with Azerbaijan, but most importantly with Europe. The EU also put the Armenian dimension in its relations with Turkey. In 1997 the European parliament asked Turkey to recognize the Armenian genocide and stop its blockade against Armenia.120 In the aftermath of the 17 December 2004 decision by the EU, affirming Turkey’s candidacy for membership, there were voices from France and the Netherlands to the effect that Turkey needed to accept the genocide. The relevance of this topic regarding membership remains unclear.

After long years of mediation by the international community to resolve the Karabagh dispute, the stalemate continues in 2010. From time to time tough declarations are made by the leaders of both sides. For example, recently Ilham Aliyev declared that Azerbaijani patience was not limitless. This was more posturing than a real desire to liberate Karabagh with the use of arms.121

Karabagh and Limited Turkish Involvement Turkey’s involvement in the Karabagh dispute, when compared with its Cyprus policy, can be characterized as minimal, whereas the

Figure 6.1 Ladder of involvement Annexation Military intervention Threats to target state Troop deployment Arms to the group Covert operations Bilateral and multilateral diplomacy Declaration of support Demonstrations Financial support

latter can be defined as maximal involvement. In the ladder of involvement defined in the introductory chapter, Turkey did not go up


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higher than giving verbal support to Azerbaijan, getting involved in multilateral diplomacy and training the Azerbaijani army. Escalation of the conflict would have involved covert operations on foreign soil and outright military involvement. Turkey, despite strong public pressure to rescue fellow Turks, refrained from a military intervention.

The elements that constrained Ankara were that Kemalism ruled out ‘adventurism’ and Western pressure on Turkey not to intervene would have rendered any military option highly risky. Furthermore, military intervention would have rekindled the legacy of Armenian genocide and would have excited Western public opinion. Good economic and political relations with Moscow also constrained Turkey. The tough opposition Turkey faced from the international community over its intervention in Cyprus might have given Turkey a strong disincentive against intervening in Karabagh.122 In sum, because the international environment opposed Turkish intervention in Karabagh, Turkish involvement was restricted to issuing a declaration of support and campaigning for Azerbaijan at international fora. So, apart from the opportunities the ending of the cold war offered to Turkey, it also brought threats and challenges. Turkey could have pursued a more activist policy, but it calculated that the risks outweighed the benefits in the case of Karabagh. A risk-taking government with pan-Turkist inclinations might have followed a different course. Main constraints on Turkish action were that Russia was a major international player and that the Armenian diaspora continued to play the genocide card against Turkey.

At the domestic level there were still doubts about whether intervention was in Turkey’s best interests. While President Özal and the Nationalist Action Party were inclined to favour a more activist foreign policy, Prime Minister Demirel, his True Path Party and the Social Democrats were more cautious. Similarly, the foreign ministry wanted to find a diplomatic solution to the problem. The military, for its part, was tied up fighting separatists in southeast Turkey.

As mentioned, during the Karabagh conflict Turkey was facing a low intensity conflict emanating from the PKK guerrillas. In other words, the territorial integrity of the country was at stake, in much the same way as it had been during the Sheikh Said rebellion of 1925. Furthermore, the military and foreign ministry were highly sensitive to

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a confrontation over Karabagh, which could get Russia involved. It seemed as if the hawkish military of the Cyprus affair was gradually returning to the traditionally cautious mindset it adopted after the first Gulf War of 1991 when army personnel feared that President Özal was putting Turkish security at risk by secretly bargaining with the United States to recover the Mosul region.123 If Özal had been able to exercise more power within the Motherland Party and the bureaucracy, he might well have intervened in both northern Iraq and Karabagh. However, the climate at the time bode against an activist foreign policy.

Turkey’s national identity was also under attack from Kurdish and Islamist circles, making an argument based on Turkish identity less attractive to a number of groups in Turkish society. The 1980s saw the proliferation of rival identities, including Kurdish, Islamist and Alevi, and their desire to be represented in the public sphere. The members of these subcultures were also reluctant to pursue pan-Turkist or Turkish-based identity politics.

The Kurdish current was represented by the PKK and its proxies in the People’s Labour Party (Halkin Emeği Partisi or HEP) and the successor parties, the latest being the Democratic Society Party (Demokratik Toplum Partisi or DTP). The Alevis had numerous cultural societies and were heavily represented in social democratic parties. Therefore, unlike the Cyprus crisis, there was no national consensus to follow a more activist foreign policy in Karabagh.

During the 1980s and more so after the break-up of the USSR in 1991, the prosperity and security of Turkish minorities have become an important part of Turkish foreign policy, yet because of economic and strategic weaknesses, Turkey has conducted a passive foreign policy. Turkey preferred to preserve the status quo and territorial integrity of the independent states.124 Only after the dissolution of the USSR and Yugoslavia became unavoidable did Turkey try to open to the former territory of the Ottoman Empire and its original homeland. Yet it lacked not only material power sources, but also, and more importantly, the ideological mindset that would have resulted in a regional geostrategic world view.

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Conclusion: Competing Interests and Identities in Turkish Politics

In this book, I have pointed out that academics should take the role of ideas seriously in their scholarly works. Similarly, practitioners should focus on the impact of ideas on their constituents when they are making political decisions. Besides national interests, identities and ideologies also motivate state behaviour.

Initially, a realist analysis of Turkish foreign policy behaviour might have more explanatory power than its rival constructivist and liberal theories. Yet, it should be evident that no single theory can explain all phenomena. Eclecticism between realism and constructivism offers a more sophisticated understanding of Turkish foreign policy. My Turkish foreign policy model offers a framework of analysis for Turkish involvement in the affairs of external Turks. This pattern occurs often enough to necessitate analysis. My case studies dealt with Turkey’s concern for Mosul, Hatay, Cyprus, Western Thrace and Karabagh. There were different levels of involvement in all these cases, from declarations of support to outright annexation. In fact, we can characterize Turkish foreign policy as realism under the influence of nationalism. An identity-grounded Turkey emerges from time to time when the international system is opportune. In that sense, we see a country that is extremely sensitive to both systemic and ideational factors.

It is easy to demonstrate that both Turkish state identity and state interests play a much more important role than pan-Turkism in the formulation and execution of Turkish foreign policy. This position can be observed in Atatürk’s 1927 speech, in the discourses of later Turkish politicians and in the relatively pacific foreign policy that Turkey conducted. There had been little interest in the affairs of external Turks, especially of those living under Soviet rule. The reason for this was of course the overwhelming strength of Soviet power,

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which was only countered by Turkey’s alliance with the United States and other Western powers. Obviously, the cold war had also restrained Turkey from adopting an activist foreign policy. However, there was rising concern about former Ottoman Turks, first about those in Cyprus and Western Thrace and, after the break-up of the Soviet Union, interest in the Turkic world, especially in Azerbaijan, increased exponentially. There has been a pattern of involvement from Hatay to Cyprus that deserves analysis, which is what I have tried to provide in this book. I think I have found an underlying current in Turkish politics that Turkish decision makers and intellectuals had ignored, been unaware of, or at least failed to explain.

It is precisely at this point that the role of nationalism as a determinant, or more precisely a parameter, of foreign policy comes into play. It is on the ideational front, the front in which nationalism occupies a central role in foreign policy making. Turkish analysts quite often dismissed the role of nationalism as irrelevant in Turkish foreign policy, which was characterized as peaceful, extremely prudent, somewhat passive and non-expansionist. This is true as far as pan-Turkism is concerned. Yet, such a simplistic approach cannot account for the pattern of involvement I discuss in this book. It is evident that Kemalism articulated and propagated a specific form of ethnic-territorial nationalism, which ruled out pan-Turkism. To put it differently, at the foreign policy level there was no pan-Turkism, but at the domestic level there was Turkism. In other words, there was cultural Turkism but no political Turkism.

As discussed in Chapter 2, the republican regime took various measures to inculcate a feeling of Turkishness into the populace, which included holding language and history conferences not only in the capital city but throughout the entire country. In this endeavour, teachers were endowed with a special mission as the defenders of secular nationalism. While strong nationalist feelings spread among the people, they were not employed in the service of Turkish foreign policy to revise the borders. Hatay appeared to be an exception to this rule, but, as I argued in the book, it was perceived as a rectification of an injustice the Western powers had done to an area that was part of the National Pact. Thus, Turkish political leaders saw Turkey’s annexation of Hatay not as irredentism or pan-Turkism, but simply as


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a just act of liberation of fellow Turks. In their judgement, it was a matter of taking what was theirs, which had been unjustly stolen from Turkey.1

This book also offered a framework of prediction for future Turkish behaviour. The Turkish foreign policy model devised in Chapter 3 determines the conditions for involvement in Turkic affairs. The window of opportunity that Turkey awaits determines the parameters of an activist foreign policy. I need to reiterate that the ethnic element within the state identity and national psyche is often at a subconscious level because Turks are convinced that they follow the ‘Peace at home, peace in the world’ motto of Mustafa Kemal Atatürk – forgetting that he employed diplomatic and military instruments in the annexation of Hatay – to give one example of the successful combination of the two tools for the defence of national interests. Turkey’s Cyprus policy since the 1950s and its interest in Azerbaijan since 1991 are further proof that Turkey awaits an opportunity to increase its power and protect the well-being of fellow Turks.

EU membership for Turkey might make the present analysis irrelevant. Would Turkey become a post-nationalist state? It is also legitimate to ask whether nationalism is irrelevant in European politics. Is identity politics over? Will the EU transform itself into a post-nationalist entity? If we answer these questions in the affirmative and if Turkey becomes a member of the EU, then we can say that this book would remain a historical analysis of Turkish foreign policy in the twentieth century.

However, it is difficult to answer the questions above in the affirmative. Even if Turkey were to become a member of the EU, it could still frame its interest in the Turkic world within the human rights discourse. Such a formulation would not necessarily be an excuse for expansionism but it would emanate from a genuine interest in the well-being of fellow Turks. It is evident that territorial expansionism and irredentism are unacceptable forms of state behaviour. On the other hand, human rights violations cannot be regarded as the domestic affairs of a state, for they are of concern to the international community. It should also be clear that there are human rights violations of Turks in various countries such as Greece and China. It is within this framework that Turkey could become an


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advocate of fellow Turks and its level of involvement would remain within the confines of declarations and mobilizing international support for the causes of outside Turks.

This book goes beyond the Cyprus and Karabagh cases implied in its subtitle to include analyses of Hatay, Western Thrace and a general overview of Turkish policy towards the Turkic world. Concern about the Mosul region especially, as mentioned briefly in Chapters 3 and 4, is increasing among Turks. Many intellectuals and politicians (including the late president Turgut Özal) believed and still believe that Turkey has a right to the former Ottoman province of Mosul, particularly since the British deprived it of that region after the signing of the Treaty of Mudros. As Kurdish power increases in northern Iraq, which is where Mosul and Kirkuk are located, Turkey might take aggressive measures for defensive reasons. In other words, Turkey might be tempted to intervene for reasons of internal security, for the Kurdish region in northern Iraq is bound to become a magnet for Turkish Kurds.

As argued in the Introduction, Turkey conducted an identity-based policy towards Cyprus. However, my case study of Cyprus in Chapter 5 demonstrated that there were also strong strategic considerations in the minds of the decision-makers. Turkey became involved in Cyprus in a maximalist manner, culminating in its occupation of the northern part of the island in 1974. In the case of Karabagh, it pursued an interest-based foreign policy with minimal involvement – not going beyond declarations of support for Azerbaijani territorial integrity. It follows that Karabagh occupies a low rung in the ladder of involvement, whereas Cyprus and Hatay are at the highest steps of the ladder. I presented the levels of involvement in Chapter 3 of this study.

It is interesting to point out that when strategic and ideological factors merge, Turkey’s concern for a specific area increases. The strategic versus ideational factors in the Cyprus case are discussed above. In the Karabagh case, the construction of the Baku–Ceyhan pipeline carrying oil from the Caspian Sea to the Turkish Mediter-ranean coast link Turkish–Azerbaijani cultural affinity to the common struggle against Armenia. In other words, Turkey has strategic and economic interests in Azerbaijan. Consequently, Turkish–Azerbaijani


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relations do not rest upon narrow self-interests; identity-related concerns are also present and put pressure on Turkish foreign policy. They emanate from the common historical and cultural roots of the Anatolian and Azerbaijani Turkish peoples. This state of affairs often ties the hands of the Turkish decision-makers vis-à-vis their relations with Armenia.

Bearing in mind this analysis, we need to recognize that at the identity–interest nexus there is constant interaction between the two spheres, both of which unabatedly influence each other. To put it in a different way, identities can determine state interests and state interests can determine state identities. For instance, it is in Turkey’s strategic interests for Cyprus not to fall into hostile hands. This strategic situation elevates Turkish Cypriots to a strategic minority and raises their status to be the protectors of Turkish identity on the island. Conversely, the causal pattern can work the other way. Due to nationalist pressures from Turkish Cypriots and Turkish public opinion, the decision makers and opinion formers felt they had to rescue fellow Turks on the island from an imminent massacre. Emanating from this ideational framework, it is also possible to argue that politicians presented Cyprus as strategically important, rather than the other way around, meaning that the strategic significance of Cyprus necessitated an intervention. The truth of the matter is that both strategic and nationalist variables interacted with each other and resulted in Turkey’s intervention in Cyprus.

To understand why Turkey remains dissatisfied with its present borders and still hankers for those set out in the National Pact, the following example is significant. Bülent Ecevit, the former prime minister, revealed that İsmet Inönü, Turkey’s second president and leader of the RPP whom Ecevit replaced in 1972 as chairman, had told him to recover Mosul when the conditions were opportune. In fact, Inönü told him that Atatürk had never accepted the loss of Mosul. Korkut Özal, the brother of the late president Turgut Özal, revealed that during the first Gulf War of 1990–91, US President George Bush had given President Özal the go-ahead to let Turkey occupy and stay in the Kirkuk-Mosul area. However, the resignation of the chief of staff General Necip Torumtay, as well as the resistance of the army to such an ‘adventure’, dissuaded Özal from embarking on the


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endeavour. General Kemal Yavuz, commander of the Second Army at the time, also confirms that the army prevented Özal from sending troops into the Mosul-Kirkuk region.

At the moment, argues former Prime Minister Ecevit, the conjuncture is opportune, so Turkey should intervene in northern Iraq to prevent the emergence of a Kurdish state. Otherwise Turkey might be partitioned.2 Leaving aside the validity of this argument, this proves my point that, from time to time, a Turkist undercurrent emerges in Turkish foreign policy that is both ideological and opportunistic. Of course, it is impossible to determine what proportion of a policy decision is opportunistic and what proportion is ideological. The Turkist attitude is particularly concerned with recovering the National Pact’s unredeemed territories.

When we look at Turkish foreign policy priorities in the twenty-first century, membership of the EU tops the list. This topic is beyond the scope of this book, yet a study based on the pro-Western state identity can be undertaken. Atatürk took many steps that can be referred to as pro-Western reforms – from the alphabet to the outfit. Accordingly, Turkey’s Western state identity can be used as the framework of analysis for Turkey’s quest for membership of the EU. Yet, such a study should take into consideration the tensions between Turkish nationalist and pro-Western elements within the Kemalist state identity.

Close relations with the United States and Israel are strategic Turkish foreign policy preferences in the twenty-first century, as are peace and stability in the Balkans, Caucasus and Middle East triangle. Relations with kin-countries such as Azerbaijan and Bosnia are also high-priority concerns for the Turkish leaders and the public alike. Cyprus continues to occupy a central place in Turkish foreign policy.

While systemic factors can explain overall Turkish foreign policy during the cold war, specific foreign policy decisions such as how to deal with Cyprus and Azerbaijan need to take domestic variables into account, in these cases the Kemalist state identity. In fact, ideational factors dominated Turkey’s foreign policy approach to Cyprus.

Therefore, when we analyse Turkish foreign policy, we need to look at both the internal dynamics of the country – state elites, ideology, ethnic lobbies, regime change – and the external factors, such


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as the configuration of power in the international system, US power, and regional developments in the Balkan–Middle East–Caucasus strategic triangle. In the Cyprus case, cold war dynamics gave Turkey a free hand, especially in its intervention of 1974.

In operationalizing international relations theory we have two routes. One is to take purely realist or constructivist theory and try to see the relevance of these theories to our case studies. Another would be to incorporate elements from the respective theories in our analysis. This way of thinking argues not for an either/or approach but rather for an amalgamation of the necessary elements from the two paradigms called analytical eclecticism. The second way is more nuanced than arguing that either realism or constructivism has greater explanatory power. Rather, the relevant factors from realism and constructivism are brought in as intellectual tools to elucidate the issue under study. For instance, state survival is given for all states but how to achieve security is an essential question. Protection of vital values and kinsmen abroad can be labelled as non-realist aims, yet statesmen might well consider them as responsibilities, which would enhance state power through preserving sympathetic minorities.

We also need to recognize that there are competing identities in Turkey – Turkish, Muslim, Ottoman and Western. Whatever identity assumes the upper hand in a particular case needs an in-depth case study. In the case of Cyprus the Turkish element prevailed, whereas in Turkey’s EU policy the Westernist element in Kemalism has more relevance. Concern for Jerusalem and the al-Aqsa mosque calls on Turkey’s Muslim identity, whereas an interest in Bosnia shows concern for a people who were former Ottoman subjects. A comprehensive constructivist analysis of Turkish foreign policy would lay bare all Turkey’s possible identities and demonstrate which one has most relevance in understanding Turkish foreign policy.

It is my contention that Kemalism makes an important contribution to our understanding of Turkish domestic and foreign politics. A similar study could be undertaken, in fact replicating some of my frameworks of analysis, on Turkey’s EU policy. Kemalism is constantly interpreted and reinterpreted and used as a point of reference by politicians ranging from left-wing to Islamist, which is testimony to its continued relevance. On the EU policy, many


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politicians, academics and commentators point out that Atatürk’s legacy compels Turkey to join the EU because he set the goal for Turks to reach contemporary civilization (muasır medeniyet). This is presented as if it were a historic fact, not questioning the logical fallacy of his purported advocacy of an organization that did not exist in his time.

What follows from this is that Kemalism as well as its precise interpretation at a particular point in time are highly significant for policy analyses about Turkey. A more Europeanist or nationalist interpretation would have different ramifications for Turkish politics. Needless to say, identities and ideologies are not constant, they are constructed and reconstructed.

This book has dug into the inner currents of Turkish ideology to find the unacknowledged aspects, which had and continue to have a latent influence on Turkish actions. The ideology of the Turkish nation-state, namely Kemalism, as well as rival forms of nationalism (ethnic and conservative) influence Turkish foreign policy more than is usually recognized by analysts and politicians. Without rejecting realpolitik concerns such as security and survival, this study offered a refined approach that takes ideational–material factors and domestic–external spheres into account. Such a framework allowed me to offer a comprehensive analysis of Turkey’s policy towards the external Turks and to determine the conditions for involvement in their affairs.

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Notes

Introduction 1. Peter Katzenstein and Nobuo Okawara, ‘Japan, Asian-Pacific Security, and

the Case for Analytical Eclecticism’, International Security, vol. 26, no. 3, pp. 154, 183–4. The authors argue that Japan’s security policy can only be explained by the amalgamation of power, interests and identity, p. 167.

2. William Hale concurs with this view, adding that the entire Turkish policy towards Azerbaijan was based on state interests rather that on identity politics. William Hale, Turkish Foreign Policy: 1774–2000 (London: Frank Cass, 2002) p. 329. This might be an inadequate characterization of Turkish–Azerbaijani relations, see Chapter 6.

3. Shibley Telhami and Michael Barnett, ‘Introduction: Identity and Foreign Policy in the Middle East’, in Shibley Telhami and Michael Barnett (eds) Identity and Foreign Policy in the Middle East (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 2002) pp. 8–9, 13, 15. Multiple identities exist in other parts of the world as well. For instance in Europe, a person can define himself as Bavarian, German, European and Catholic. However, national identity and state identity are not in conflict as they are in the Arab world.

4. Raymond Hinnebusch, ‘Introduction: The Analytical Framework’, in Raymond Hinnebusch and Anoushiravan Ehteshami (eds) The Foreign Policies of Middle East States (Boulder: Lynne Rienner, 2002) pp. 1, 9.

5. Telhami and Barnett, Identity and Foreign Policy, p. 18.

1. State Identity and Foreign Policy: The Impact of Ideas and Power 1. Michael Barnett, Dialogues in Arab Politics (New York: Columbia University

Press, 1998) p. xii. 2. Hans Morgenthau, Politics among Nations: The Struggle for Power and Peace

(Boston, MA: McGraw Hill, 1993) p. 3. 3. Ibid., pp. 5, 29. 4. Ibid., p. 141, 170. 5. Robert O. Keohane, ‘Realism, Neorealism and the Study of World Politics’,

in Robert O. Keohane (ed.) Neorealism and Its Critics (New York: Columbia University Press, 1986) p. 7.

6. E. H. Carr, The Twenty Years’ Crisis, 1919–1939: An Introduction to the Study of International Relations (New York: Harper & Row, 1964) pp. 93, 97, 102, 108, 134, 144–5.

7. Kenneth Waltz, Theory of International Politics (New York: McGraw Hill, 1979) pp. 18, 39.


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8. Ibid., pp. 40, 74, 97. 9. Ibid., pp. 91, 102–5, 126–7.

10. Peter Katzenstein (ed.) The Culture of National Security: Norms and Identity in World Politics (New York: Columbia University Press, 1996) p. 2.

11. Alexander Wendt, Social Theory of International Politics (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1999) pp. 1, 20, 190.

12. Ibid., pp. 24–5. 13. Ibid., p. 372. 14. Ibid., pp. 90, 96–7, 113. 15. Ibid., p. 122, 128. 16. Ibid., p. 235. 17. Samuel Huntington, Who are We? The Challenges to America’s National Identity

(New York: Simon & Schuster, 2004) p. 21. 18. Michael Barnett, ‘‘Culture, Strategy and Foreign Policy Change: Israel’s Road

to Oslo’, European Journal of International Relations, vol. 5, no. 1, 1999, p. 9. 19. Wendt, Social Theory of International Politics, p. 231. 20. Christian Reus-Smit, The Moral Purpose of the State: Culture, Social Identity, and

Institutional Rationality in International Relations (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1999) pp. 5, 128–9.

21. Katzenstein, The Culture of National Security, pp. 6, 24. 22. Ibid., pp. 5, 54. 23. Ibid., p. 148. 24. Ibid., pp. 55, 58, 60. 25. Katzenstein, The Culture of National Security, p. 125. 26. Barnett, ‘Culture, Strategy and Foreign Policy Change’, pp. 18, 23. 27. Katzenstein, The Culture of National Security, p. 26. 28. Peter Katzenstein, ‘Preface’, in Peter Katzenstein (ed.) The Culture of National

Security: Norms and Identity in World Politics (New York: Columbia University Press, 1996) p. xii.

29. Ronald Jepperson, Alexander Wendt and Peter Katzenstein, ‘Norms, Identity and Culture in National Security’, in Peter Katzenstein (ed.) The Culture of National Security: Norms and Identity in World Politics (New York: Columbia University Press, 1996) p. 40.

30. Reus-Smit, The Moral Purpose of the State, p. 165. 31. Barnett, ‘Culture, Strategy and Foreign Policy Change’, pp. 9, 28. 32. Jeffrey Checkel, ‘The Constructivist Turn in Internatioınal Relations Theory’,

World Politics, vol. 50, no. 2, 1998, p. 325. 33. Katzenstein, The Culture of National Security, pp. 217, 267. 34. Checkel, ‚The Constructivist Turn’, p. 330. 35. Ibid., pp. 339, 342. 36. Jennifer Sterling-Folker, ‘Realist Environment, Liberal Process, and

Domestic-Level Variables’, International Studies Quarterly, vol. 41, 1997, p. 1.

NOTES

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37. Andrew Moravcsik, ‘Taking Preferences Seriously: A Liberal Theory of International Politics’, International Organization, vol. 51, no. 4, Autumn 1997, pp. 516–17, 522–3.

38. Barnett, Dialogues in Arab Politics, pp. 2, 7. 39. Barnett, Dialogues in Arab Politics, pp. 39–40, 186. Even a modified realist

analysis of alignment patterns in the Middle East takes the ‘norms of Arab solidarity’ seriously. See Stephen Walt, The Origins of Alliances (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1987) p. 149.

40. Similarly, Azerbaijan has leverage over Turkey, not because of its hard power but the normative issue of Karabagh, an issue on which Turkish public opinion is highly sensitive.

41. Barnett, Dialogues in Arab Politics, pp. 11, 209. 42. Ibid., pp. 3, 14. 43. Marc Lynch, State Interests and Public Spheres: The International Politics of Jordan’s

Identity (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1999) Chapter 1. 44. Ibid., p. 485. 45. In the case of American nationalism, it is difficult to pinpoint what the

ethnic core is. Common political history seems to be more important for Americans than ethnic identification. However, we need to realize that when we look at American presidents, with the exception of John F. Kennedy and Barack Obama, they all hail from a white Protestant background. Furthermore, Huntington, Who are We? pp. xvi–xvii, 365, argues that the American nation is based on WASP values but not necessarily the WASP people. Even in a territorial-civic nationalism, such as the American nationalism, we see elements of ethnic values to be significant.

46. Rogers Brubaker, Nationalism Reframed: Nationhood and the National Question in the New Europe (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996) p. 10.

47. Vamik D. Volkan, Bloodlines: From Ethnic Pride to Ethnic Terrorism (New York: Farrar, Straus & Giroux, 1997) pp. 20, 23.

48. Anthony D. Smith, Nations and Nationalism in a Global Era (Cambridge: Polity Press, 1998) p. viii.

49. Ibid., pp. 40, 43. 50. Benedict Anderson, Imagined Communities: Reflections on the Origin and Spread of

Nationalism (London: Verso, 1983) p. 3. 51. Eric J. Hobsbawm, Nations and Nationalism since 1780: Programme, Myth, Reality

(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1990) p. 12. 52. Anderson, Imagined Communities, pp. 34–5, 46. 53. Ernest Gellner, Nations and Nationalism (Oxford: Blackwell, 1983) pp. 73,

141–2. 54. Damian Tambini, ‘Explaining Monoculturalism: Beyond Gellner’s Theory of

Nationalism’, Critical Review, vol. 10, no. 2, Spring 1996, pp. 251, 257, 260, 267. 55. Karl Deutsch, Nationalism and Social Communication: An Inquiry into the

Foundations of Nationality (Cambridge, Mass: MIT Press, 1966 (Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 1966) pp. 75, 88, 91.


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56. Liah Greenfeld, ‘Transcending the Nation’s Worth’, Daedelus, vol. 122, no. 3, Summer 1993, p. 48.

57. Elie Kedourie, ‘Introduction’, in Elie Kedourie (ed.) Nationalism in Asia and Africa (London: Frank Cass, 1970) p. 18.

58. Kedourie, ‘Introduction’, pp. 1, 28–9, 80–1. 59. C. A. Bayly, The Birth of the Modern World, 1780–1914 (Oxford: Blackwell,

2004) pp. 199, 204, 218, 243. 60. Anderson, Imagined Communities, p. 6. 61. Ibid., p. 46. 62. Gellner, Nations and Nationalism, p. 49. 63. Anderson, Imagined Communities, p. 6. 64. Hobsbawm, Nations and Nationalism, p. 192. 65. Walker Connor, ‘From Tribe to Nation’, in Walker Connor, Ethnonationalism

(Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1994) p. 211. 66. John Breuilly, Nationalism and the State (Chicago: University of Chicago Press,

1993) pp. 3–5. 67. Ibid., p. 19. 68. Stefan Berger, The Search for Normality: National Identity and Historical

Consciousness in Germany since 1800 (Oxford: Berghahn, 1997) pp. 22, 48. 69. Bernard Yack, ‘The Myth of the Civic Nation’, Critical Review, vol. 10, no. 2,

1996, pp. 199, 208. 70. Brubaker, Nationalism Reframed, pp. 4–6. 71. Turkish Cypriots reject minority status as they were one of the two

constituent nationalities of the Republic of Cyprus in 1960. 72. Louis Snyder, Macro-nationalisms: A History of the Pan-Movements (Westport:

Greenwood, 1984) pp. 4–5. 73. Constructivists would agree with this statement. Realists would only concur

if such relations would enhance state security. 74. Huntington, Who are We? pp. 363, 365. 75. Steven Saideman, ‘Conclusion’, in Shibley Telhami and Michael Barnett (eds)

Identity and Foreign Policy in the Middle East (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 2002) p. 178.

76. Valerie Hudson and Christopher Vore, ‘Foreign Policy Analysis: Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow’, Mershon International Studies Review, vol. 39, no. 2, 1995, pp. 211, 213, 224, 228.

77. Allen Lynch, ‘The Realism of Russia’s Foreign Policy’, Europe–Asia Studies, vol. 53, no. 1, 2001, pp. 13, 20 26.

78. Esra Çuhadar-Gürkaynak and Binnur Özkeçeci-Taner, ‘Decisionmaking Process Matters: Lessons Learned from Two Turkish Foreign Policy Cases’, Turkish Studies, vol. 5, no. 2, 2004, pp. 44, 60–2.

79. Greenfeld, ‘Transcending the Nation’s Worth’, p. 50.

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2. The Three Paths of Turkish Nationalism and Kemalist State Identity 1. Max Weber, The Theory of Social and Economic Organization (New York: Free

Press, 1997) p. 89. 2. Baskin Oran, Türk Dış Politikası: Kurtuluş Savaşından Bugüne Olgular, Belgeler,

Yorumlar (İstanbul: Iletişim, 2003) vol. 2, p. 78. 3. Hikmet Bila, CHP 1919–1999 (İstanbul: Doğan Kardeş, 1999) p. 223. 4. Smith, Nations and Nationalism, pp. vii–viii, 57. 5. Anthony D. Smith, National Identity (Reno: University of Nevada Press, 1991)

pp. 9–13. 6. André Lecours, ‘Ethnic and Civic Nationalism: Towards a New Dimension’,

Space and Polity, vol. 4, no. 2, 2000, pp. 153, 155. French and American nationalisms are quite different from each other but they are more open to integration for minorities than German or eastern European nationalisms.

7. Smith, National Identity, pp. 39, 116. 8. Günay Göksu Özdoğan, ‘Turan’dan ‘Bozkurt’ a Tek Parti Döneminde Türkçülük

(1931–1946) (İstanbul: İletişim, 2001) pp. 16–17, 23, 86. 9. Sabahattin Selek, Anadolu Ihtilali (Istanbul: Kastaş, 1987) pp. 397, 404, 410–11.

10. Ibid., pp. 412–17, 470, 698–9. 11. Selek, Anadolu Ihtilali, pp, 433, 491, 496, 498. 12. He derived his family name from the location of this battle, Inönü. 13. Selek, Anadolu Ihtilali, pp. 591–2, 652, 670–1. 14. Ibid., pp. 720–1. 15. Ibid., pp. 511, 513. 16. Bernard Lewis, The Middle East: 2000 Years of History from the Rise of Christianity

to the Present Day (London: Weidenfeld & Nicholson, 1995) p. 265. 17. Bernard Lewis, The Emergence of Modern Turkey (Oxford: Oxford University

Press, 1968) p. 276. 18. Ibid., pp. 269, 271–3. 19. Mete Tuncay, Türkiye Cumhuriyeti’nde Tek-Parti Yönetiminin Kurulması (1923–

1931) (Istanbul: Cem, 1992) pp. 226, 229, 236, 412–13, 416. 20. Ibid., pp. 230–1. 21. Ibid., p. 332. 22. Lewis, The Emergence of Modern Turkey, p. 248; Baskin Oran, Atatürk

Milliyetçiliği, Resmî Ideoloji Dışı Bir Inceleme, 5. Baskı (Ankara: Bilgi Yayınevi, 1996) pp. 170–2.

23. Lewis, The Emergence of Modern Turkey, pp. 254–5. 24. Yılmaz Çolak, Civilizing Process from Above: Culture and State in Turkey, 1923–

1945 (unpublished Ph.D., Bilkent University, July 2000) pp. 146, 226, 271–2, 292.

25. Oran, Atatürk Milliyetçiliği, pp. 40, 48–50, 64–5, 177. 26. Ibid., pp. 168–9. 27. Büşra Ersanlı Behar, İktidar ve Tarih: Türkiye’de ‘Resmi Tarih’ Tezinin Oluşumu

(1929–1937) (İstanbul: Alfa, 1996) pp. 13, 92, 104, 179–80.


198

28. Ahmet Yıldız, ‘Ne Mutlu Türküm Diyebilene’: Türk Ulusal Kimliğinin Etno-Seküler Sınırları (1919–1938) (İstanbul: İletişim, 2001) pp. 154, 163, 170.

29. Kemal Atatürk, Nutuk (İstanbul: Milli Eğitim Basımevi, 1963) p. 436. 30. Füsun Üstel. İmparatorluktan Ulus-Devlete Türk Milliyetçiliği: Türk Ocakları

(1912–1931) (İstanbul: İletişim, 1997) p. 173. 31. Özdoğan, ‘Turan’dan ‘Bozkurt’a, pp. 297–8. 32. Yıldız, ‘Ne Mutlu Türküm Diyebilene’, pp. 123–4. 33. Ibid., p. 318. 34. Umut Uzer, ‘Racism in Turkey: The Case of Huseyin Nihal Atsiz’, Journal of

Muslim Minority Affairs, vol. 22, no. 1, April 2002, pp. 125–8. 35. Nejdet Sançar, Türkçülük üzerine Makaleler (İstanbul: Kamer, 1995) pp. 13, 17,

34, 46. 36. Özdoğan, Turan’dan ‘Bozkurt’a, pp. 230–9. 37. Bozkurt Güvenç, Türk-İslam Sentezi (Istanbul: Sarmal, 1994) pp. 155–6. 38. Tanıl Bora and Kemal Can, Devlet Ocak Dergah: 12 Eylül’den 1990’lara Ülkücü

Hareket (İstanbul: İletişim, 1994) p. 153; and Ümit Cizre Sakallıoğlu, AP-Ordu İlişkileri (İstanbul: İletişim, 1993) p. 124.

39. Ibrahim Kafesoğlu, Türk-Islam Sentezi (Istanbul: Hamle, 1996) p. 161. 40. Erol Güngör, Türk Kültürü ve Milliyetçilik (Istanbul:Ötüken, 1996).pp. 177,

181. 41. Alparslan Türkeş, Milli Doktrin Dokuz Işık (İstanbul: Kamer, 1997) pp. 108–9.

3. Turkish Foreign Policy Analysis 1. Stephen van Evera uses the window of opportunity concept as one of the

explanations of war: to employ preventive war against a rising state. Stephen van Evera, ‘Offense, Defense and the Causes of War’, in Michael E. Brown, Owen R. Coté Jr, Sean M. Lynn-Jones and Steven E. Miller (eds) Theories of War and Peace: An International Security Reader (Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 1998) p. 59.

2. Çağlar Keyder, State and Class in Turkey: A Study in Capitalist Development (London: Verso, 1987) p. 4.

3. Guenter Lewy, The Armenian Massacres in Ottoman Turkey: A Disputed Genocide (Salt Lake City: The University of Utah Press, 2005) p. 259.

4. Oran, Türk Dış Politikası, pp. 20–1. 5. Ibid., pp. 23, 24. 6. Ali Bozer, ‘Turkish Foreign Policy in a Changing World’, Mediterranean

Quarterly, Summer 1990, pp. 15–16, 20. 7. Oral Sander, ‘Turkey and the Turkic world’, Central Asian Survey, vol. 13, no.

1, 1994, pp. 37, 40. 8. Duygu Bazoğlu Sezer, ‘Turkey’s Grand Strategy Facing a Dilemma’, The

International Spectator, vol. 27, no. 1, January–March 1993, pp. 21–2, 28, 32. 9. Suat İlhan, Avrupa Birliğine Neden Hayır: Jeopolitik Yaklaşım (İstanbul: Ötüken,

2001); Doğu Perinçek, Karen Fogg’un e-postalları (İstanbul: Kaynak, 2002). There are also believers in Eurasianism in Russia going back to the

NOTES

199

nineteenth century, not necessarily with a focus on Turkey but with an emphasis on the special role of Russia in that continent. See Zbigniew Brzezinski, The Grand Chessboard: American Primacy and its Geostrategic Imperatives (New York: Basic Books, 1997) pp. 110–111. See also Aleksander Dugin, Rus jeopolitiği (Istanul: Küre, 2004).

10. Oran, Türk Dış Politikası, pp. 24–5. 11. Hale, Turkish Foreign Policy, p. 7. 12. Ibid., pp. 1–2; Oran, Türk Dış Politikası, pp. 29–30. 13. Alan Makovsky, ‘Turkey’, in Robert Chase, Emily Hill and Paul Kennedy

(eds) The Pivotal States: A New Framework for US Policy in the Developing World (New York: W. W. Norton, 1999) p. 117.

14. Robert Chase, Emily Hill and Robert Kennedy, ‘Introduction’, in Robert Chase, Emily Hill and Robert Kennedy (eds) The Pivotal States: A New Framework for US Policy in the Developing World (New York: W. W. Norton, 1999) pp. 6–9. Also see, Brzezinski, The Grand Chessboard, p. 47, who argues that Turkey ‘stabilizes the Black Sea region, controls access from it to the Mediterranean Sea, balances Russia in the Caucasus, [and] still offers an antidote for Muslim fundamentalism.’

15. Makovsky, ‘Turkey’, pp. 88–9. 16. Ibid., pp. 98–9. 17. Ibid., pp. 93, 96. 18. Oran, Türk Dış Politikası, pp. 46–8. 19. Ibid., p. 48. 20. Ibid., pp. 49–52. 21. Yirmisekiz Mehmet Çelebi, Yirmisekiz Mehmet Çelebi’nin Paris Sefaretnamesi

(İstanbul: Hayat, 1970) pp. 5, 13–14; and Lewis, The Emergence of Modern Turkey, pp. 45, 51.

22. Lewis, The Emergence of Modern Turkey, p. 63 23. Ibid., pp. 88–9. 24. Ibid., pp. 83–5. 25. William Hale, Turkish Politics and the Military (London: Routledge) p. 18. 26. Abtülahat Akşin, Atatürk’ün Dış Politika İlkeleri ve Diplomasisi (Ankara: Türk

Tarih Kurumu Yayınları, 1991) pp. 250–6. 27. Ibid., pp. 261–4, 266, 270–1. 28. Ibid., pp. 198–200. 29. Ibid., pp. 191–4. 30. Ibid., p. 197. 31. Ibid., pp. 194–6. There is a youtube video about the two leaders conversing

in Turkish. 32. Oran, Türk Dış Politikası, vol. 1, p. 366. 33. Akşin, Atatürk’ün Dış politika ilkeleri ve Diplomasisi, p. 83. 34. Tevfik Rüştü Aras, Görüşlerim (n.p.: Semih Lutfi Kitabevi, 1945) pp. 17, 21,

36.


200

35. Tevfik Rüştü Aras, Atatürk’ün Dış Politikası (Istanbul: Kaynak, 2003) pp. 196–7, 202, 204.

36. Mahmut Bali Aykan, Turkey’s Role in the Organization of the Islamic Conference, 1960–1992: The Nature of Deviation from the Kemalist Heritage (New York: Vantage Press, 1994) p. 20.

37. Oran, Türk Dış Politikası, pp. 155, 583. 38. Hale, Turkish Foreign Policy, p. 71. 39. Philip Robins, Suits and Uniforms: Turkish Foreign Policy since the Cold War

(Seattle: University of Washington Press, 2003) pp. 139, 159. 40. Hale, Turkish Foreign Policy, pp. 120, 123. 41. Umut Uzer and Ayşe Uzer, ‘Diverging Perceptions of the Cold War:

Baghdad Pact as a Source of Conflict between Turkey and the nationalist Arab Countries’, Turkish Yearbook of International Relations, vol. 36, 2005.

42. Hale, Turkish Foreign Policy, pp. 150–1. 43. Ibid, pp. 169–71. 44. Aykan, Turkey’s Role in the Organization of the Islamic Conference, pp. 60–1. 45. Ibid., pp. xii, 74–5, 83. 46. Ibid., pp. 78–9. 47. Ibid., p. 110. 48. Ibid., p. 128. 49. Ibid., pp. 200–4. 50. Hale, Turkish Foreign Policy, pp. 163–5. 51. Robins, Suits and Uniforms, p. 12. 52. Ibid., pp. 12, 17. 53. Ibid., p. 350. 54. Heinz Kramer, A Changing Turkey: The Challenge to Europe and the United States

(Washington, DC: Brookings Institution, 2000) p. 158. 55. Ibid., pp. 158–60. 56. Hale, Turkish Foreign Policy, pp. 264–5. 57. Robins, Suits and Uniforms, pp. 45–6, 49. 58. Ibid., pp. 266–8. 59. Umut Uzer, ‘Turkish-Israeli Relations under the Shadow of the Palestine

Question’, KÖK Strategic Studies, vol. 5, no. 1, Spring 2003, pp. 192–3. 60. Malik Mufti, ‘Daring and Caution in Turkish Foreign Policy’, Middle East

Journal, vol.5 2, no. 1, 1998, pp. 33, 48–9. 61. Kramer, A Changing Turkey, p. 212. 62. Umut Uzer, ‘What Ankara Wants’, Jerusalem Post, 6 July 2004. Turkey also

wanted to win favours with Washington but it could not have proceeded to higher levels of contacts with the Israelis without breakthroughs in the peace process, as the public in Turkey was extremely sensitive to Palestinian rights.

63. Alan Makovsky and Sabri Sayari, ‘Introduction’, in Alan Makovsky and Sabri Sayari (eds) Turkey’s New World: Changing Dynamics in Turkish Foreign Policy (Washington: WINEP, 2000) p. 4. Interview with senior diplomat, 13 June 2002.

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64. Oran, Türk Dış Politikası, pp. 91–2. 65. Interview, 13 June 2002. 66. Oran, Türk Dış Politikası, pp. 74–5. 67. Ibid., pp. 76–7. 68. Ibid., pp. 78–80. 69. Hale, Turkish Politics and the Military, pp. 215, 218. 70. Oran, Türk Dış Politikası, pp. 80–4. 71. Ibid., pp. 85–8. For the warfare against PKK, see Osman Pamukoğlu

Unutulanlar Dışında Yeni Bir Şey Yok (Nothing New except the Forgotten). 72. Alan Makovsky and Sabri Sayari (eds) Turkey’s New World: Changing Dynamics

in Turkish Foreign Policy (Washington: WINEP, 2000) p. 5. 73. Ibid., p. 5. 74. Milliyet, 2 March 2003. 75. Makovsky and Sayari, ‘Introduction’, p. 7. 76. Interview with Bülent Ecevit, Ankara, 29 January 2004. 77. Waltz, Theory of International Politics, p. 91. 78. Wendt, Social Theory of International, pp. 1, 24, 372.

4. The Annexation of Hatay: Exception or Harbinger of Future Policy? 1. E. Melhem, ‘The Sanjak of Alexandretta: A Forgotten Syrian Territory’, al

Zawba’ah, vol. 2, no. 9, November 1998 on http://home.iprimus.com.au/ fidamelhem/SSNP/sanjak_of_alexandretta.htm, accessed 29 December 2003.

2. Mehmet Tekin, Hatay Tarihi (Antioch: Hatay Kültür Turizm ve Sanat Vakfı, 1993) p. 23.

3. A caveat would be in order as far as the terminology is concerned. I shall use Sanjak of Alexandretta and Hatay interchangeably, even for the ancient times, because of the lack of a term for the region that covers the Sanjak/Hatay in its entirety.

4. Tekin, Hatay Tarihi, pp. 39, 43–50, 55, 67. 5. Ibid., p. 71. 6. Serhan Ada, Türk–Fransız İlişkilerinde Hatay Sorunu: 1918–1939 (İstanbul:

İstanbul Bilgi Üniversitesi Yayınları, 2007) p. 83; Robert Satloff, ‘Prelude to Conflict: Communal Interdependence in the Sanjak of Alexandretta 1920–1936’, Middle Eastern Studies, vol. 22, no. 2, 1986, p. 150.

7. Yücel Güçlü, The Question of the Sanjak of Alexandretta: A Study in Turkish–French–Syrian Relations (Ankara: Türk Tarih Kurumu Yayınları, 2001) p. 35.

8. Ibid., pp. xvii, 297–8. 9. Ibid., pp. 306–7, 314.

10. Ibid., pp. 7, 9–12. 11. Satloff, ‘Prelude to Conflict’, p. 150. 12. Yusuf Hikmet Bayur, Türkiye Devletinin Dış Siyasası (Ankara: Türk Tarih

Kurumu Yayınları, 1973) pp. 24–9. 13. Güçlü, The Question of the Sanjak of Alexandretta, p. 40.


202

14. Avedis Sanjian, ‘The Sanjak of Alexandretta (Hatay): Its Impact on Turkish–Syrian Relations, 1939–1956’, Middle East Journal, vol. 10, no. 4, 1956, p. 379.

15. Ibid., p. 379. 16. Güçlü, The Question of the Sanjak of Alexandretta, p. 44. 17. Tekin, Hatay Tarihi, pp. 118–19, 124. See also Ada, Türk–Fransız İlişkilerinde

Hatay Sorunu, p. 51. To clarify this time span, according to the official historical thesis many ancient civilizations such as the Hittites were considered Turks. Hence the Hittite presence in the area was presented as proof of Turkish existence in Hatay predating the Arabs. The words Hittite and Hatay or hitay were presented as related.

18. Sanjian, ‘The Sanjak of Alexandretta’, p. 379. 19. Philip Khoury, Syria and the French Mandate: The Politics of Arab Nationalism,

1920–1945 (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1987) pp. 41, 50, 100–2, 106–7, 110.

20. Tekin, Hatay Tarihi, pp. 84, 101–3, 108, 113. 21. Oran, Türk Dış Politikası, pp. 287–8. 22. Güçlü, The Question of the Sanjak of Alexandretta, p. 67. 23. Ibid., pp. 72–3. 24. Tayfur Sökmen, Hatay’ın Kurtuluşu için Harcanan Çabalar (Ankara: Türk Tarih

Kurumu Yayınları, 1978) pp. 25, 34–5, 58–9. 25. Ibid., p. 63. 26. Tekin, Hatay Tarihi, p. 133. 27. Ibid., pp. 134–6, 147–8, 150. 28. Oran, Türk Dış Politikası, p. 280; Tekin, Hatay Tarihi, pp. 166–9, 172. 29. Güçlü, The Question of the Sanjak of Alexandretta, pp. 117–19. 30. Khoury, Syria and the French Mandate, p. 501. 31. Güçlü, The Question of the Sanjak of Alexandretta, pp. 132–4. 32. Ibid., pp. 164, 180–3, 191. 33. Ibid., p. 219. 34. Republican Archives of the Prime Ministry State Archives, Yenimahalle,

Ankara, Turkey, 19 June 1937, no. 03010 1317. 35. Ibid., no. 03010 222 501 5. 36. Oran, Türk Dış Politikası, p. 288. 37. Güçlü, The Question of the Sanjak of Alexandretta, p. 235. 38. Republican Archives of the Prime Ministry State Archives, 18 September

1939, no. 03001 56 343 8. 39. Khoury, Syria and the French Mandate, p. 507. 40. Sanjian, ‘The Sanjak of Alexandretta’, p. 381. 41. Daniel Pipes, Greater Syria: The History of an Ambition (Oxford: Oxford

University Press, 1990) p. 29. 42. Satloff, ‘Prelude to Conflict’, pp. 170, 172. 43. Abdurrahman Melek, Hatay Nasıl Kurtuldu (Ankara: Türk Tarih Kurumu

Yayınları, 1966) p. 52. 44. Güçlü, The Question of the Sanjak of Alexandretta, pp. 25, 27, 30, 33.

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45. Sanjian, ‘The Sanjak of Alexandretta’, p. 380. 46. Satloff, ‘Prelude to Conflict’, p. 155. 47. Ibid., p. 156–7, 159. 48. Ibid., p. 162. 49. Khoury, Syria and the French Mandate, pp. 502–4, 507. 50. Güçlü, The Question of the Sanjak of Alexandretta, pp. 79, 217–18. 51. Republican Archive of the Prime Ministry State Archives. Reported by Dörtyol

Emniyet Amirliği, 20 June 1938, no. 03010 223 508 28. 52. Republican Archives of the Prime Ministry State Archives, 9 July 1938, no.

03010 224 5111. 53. Ibid., 18 June 1938, no. 03010 223 508 13. 54. Khoury, Syria and the French Mandate, p. 500. 55. Republican Archives of the Prime Ministry State Archives, 10 July 1938, no.

03010 224 511 2. 56. Satloff, ‘Prelude to Conflict’, p. 163. 57. Güçlü, The Question of the Sanjak of Alexandretta, pp. 236–40. 58. Tekin, Hatay Tarihi, pp. 208–9, 211, 213, 229–30. 59. Güçlü, The Question of the Sanjak of Alexandretta, pp. 251–3. 60. Ada, Türk–Fransız İlişkilerinde Hatay Sorunu, p. 207. 61. Güçlü, The Question of the Sanjak of Alexandretta, pp. 272–6. 62. Republican Archives of the Prime Ministry State Archives, 23 June 1939, no.

03010 225 515 19. 63. Güçlü, The Question of the Sanjak of Alexandretta, p. 285. 64. Melhem, ‘The Sanjak of Alexandretta’, pp. 3–4. 65. Sanjian, ‘The Sanjak of Alexandretta’, pp. 381–2. 66. Ibid., p. 382. 67. Al-Muqattam, 24 June 1938, ‘Will the Turks occupy Alexandretta’, in Melhem,

‘The Sanjak of Alexandretta’, p. 2. 68. Khoury, Syria and the French Mandate, p. 498. 69. Ibid., pp. 494, 506. 70. Pipes, Greater Syria, p. 60. 71. Sanjian, ‘The Sanjak of Alexandretta’, p. 383. 72. Ibid., p. 394. 73. Pipes, Greater Syria, pp. 97–8. 74. Oran, Türk Dış Politikası, p. 178. 75. Yücel Güçlü, ‘Turkey’s Entrance into the League of Nations’, Middle Eastern

Studies, vol. 39, no. 1, 2003, pp. 192–3. 76. Oran, Türk Dış Politikası, p. 292.

5. The National Cause of Turkey: Cyprus in Turkish Foreign Policy 1. Hale, Turkish Foreign Policy, p. 330. 2. Michael A. Attalides, Cyprus: Nationalism and International Politics (Edinburg: Q

Press, 1979) pp. vii, ix–x.


204

3. Frank Tachau, ‘The Face of Turkish Nationalism as Reflected in the Cyprus Dispute’, Middle East Journal, vol. 13, no. 3, 1959, p. 262.

4. Ibid., pp. 264, 267. 5. Vergi Bedevi, Başlangıcından Zamanımıza kadar Kıbrıs Tarihi (Nicosia: Kıbrıs

Türk Tarih Kurumu, 1965) pp. 100–14, 160–63, 169, 172. 6. Niyazi Kızılyürek, Kıbrıs Sorununda İç ve Dış Etkenler (Nicosia: Işık, 1983) p. 37;

Vamik D. Volkan, Cyprus – War and Adaptation: A Psychoanalytic History of Two Ethnic Groups in Conflict (Charlottesville: University Press of Virginia, 1979) p. 5.

7. Pierre Oberling, The Road to Bellapais: The Turkish Cypriot Exodus to Northern Cyprus (New York: Columbia University Press, 1982) pp. 16–17.

8. Sabahattin İsmail, Kıbrıs’ta Yunan Sorunu (1821–2000) (İstanbul: Akdeniz, 2000) pp. 19, 22.

9. Ibid., p. 40. 10. John Reddaway, Burdened with Cyprus: The British Connection (Nicosia: Rustem,

2001) pp. 19–21. 11. Attalides, Cyprus, p. 43. 12. Sabahattin İsmail, Kıbrıs Cumhuriyeti’nin Doğuşu: Çöküşü ve KKTC’nin Kuruluşu,

1960–1983 (İstanbul: Akdeniz, n.d.) p. 6; Meltem Onurkan Samani, Kıbrıs Türk Milliyetçiliği (İstanbul: Bayrak, 1999) pp. 41–2, 46–7

13. Sabahattin İsmail and E. Birinci, Atatürk Döneminde Türkiye-Kıbrıs İlişkileri, 1919–1938 (Istanbul: Akdeniz, n.d.) pp. 48, 55, 106–9, 122–5, 141, 224–5, 231.

14. Kızılyürek, Kıbrıs Sorununda İç ve Dış Etkenler, pp. 218–19. 15. Şükrü Gürel, Kıbrıs Tarihi: Kolonyalizm, Ulusçuluk ve Uluslararası Politika, 1878–

1960 (İstanbul: Kaynak, 1985) vol. 2, p. 11. 16. Republican Archives of the Prime Ministry State Archives, no. 030 01

362181 (19 February 1939). 17. Samani, Kıbrıs Türk Milliyetçiliği, p. 78. 18. Republican Archives of the Prime Ministry State Archives, no. 030 01 40

24114 (2 December 1948). 19. Hasene Ilgaz, Kıbrıs Notları (İstanbul: Doğan Kardeş, 1949) pp. 53, 60, 62,

73–4. 20. Ayşe Uzer, ‘Clashing Nationalisms in Cyprus: An Analysis of the Cyprus

Question within the Context of Nationalism’, unpublished master’s thesis, February 2004, Eastern Mediterranean University.

21. Kyriacos Markides, The Rise and Fall of the Cyprus Republic (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1977) pp. 10–11.

22. Anonymous, Girit Oyunu ve Kıbrıs (İstanbul: Akdeniz, 2000). Also see Nihat Erim, Bildiğim ve Gördüğüm Ölçüler İçinde Kıbrıs, (Ankara: Ajans Türk, n.d.) p. 103.

23. Niyazi Kızılyürek, Milliyetçilik Kıskacında Kıbrıs (Istanbul: İletişim) p. 27. 24. Joseph Joseph, Cyprus: Ethnic Conflict and International Politics: From Independence

to the Threshold of the European Union (London: Macmillan Press, 1997) pp. 17–19, 29–30, 33, 38.

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25. Nancy Crawshaw, The Cyprus Revolt (London: George Allen & Unwin, 1978) p. 22.

26. Zenon Stavrinides, The Cyprus Conflict: National Identity and Statehood (Nicosia: Cyprus Research and Publishing Centre, 1999) p. 8.

27. Joseph, Cyprus, pp. 17–18, 29–30, 33, 42. There are thinkers among both Turkish and Greek Cypriots of a leftist persuasion who argue that there was a Cypriot identity but they have difficulty providing evidence to support their arguments. See, Kızılyürek, Kıbrıs sorununda İç ve Dış Etkenler, pp. 20, 29; and Plutis Servas, Ortak Vatan (Nicosia: Galeri Kültür, 1999) pp. 23, 27, 50.

28. Stavrinides, The Cyprus Conflict, p. 40. 29. Caesar Mavratsas, ‘Greek Cypriot Identity and Conflicting Interpretations of

the Cyprus Problem’, in Dimitris Keridis and Dimitrios Triantaphyllou (eds) Greek–Turkish Relations in the Era of Globalization (Dulles, VA: Brassey’s, 2001) pp. 152, 156–9, 162–3, 172.

30. Ibid., p. 166. 31. Samani, Kıbrıs Türk Milliyetçiliği, pp. 2, 47, 81, 111, 115, 129. 32. Tayfun Atay, Batı’da Bir Nakşi Cemaati: Şeyh Nazım Kıbrısi Örneği (İstanbul:

Iletisim, 1996) p. 326. 33. Attalides, Cyprus, pp. 75, 77. 34. Ibid., pp. 105, 115. 35. T. W. Adams, AKEL: The Communist Party of Cyprus (Stanford: Hoover

Institution Press, 1971) pp. 1–2, 8, 31–2, 40, 42–3, 192. 36. Kızılyürek, Kıbrıs Sorununda İç ve Dış Etkenler, p. 235. 37. Gürel, Kıbrıs Tarihi, vol. 2, pp. 176–7. 38. Kızılyürek, Kıbrıs Sorununda İç ve Dış Etkenler, p. 227. 39. Faruk Sönmezoğlu, Türkiye–Yunanistan İlişkileri ve Büyük Güçler: Kıbrıs, Ege ve

Diğer Sorunlar (Istanbul: Der, 2000) p. 19. 40. Reddaway, Burdened with Cyprus, pp. 43, 49, 52–3. 41. Republican Archives of the Prime Ministry State Archives, no. 030 01 38

2272 (16 December 1956). 42. Ibid., no. 030 01 382271 (24 November 1956). 43. Ibid., no. 03001 62 3801 (11 January 1956). 44. Reddaway, Burdened with Cyprus, pp. 104–13. 45. Ibid., p. 103. 46. Republican Archives of the Prime Ministry State Archives, Menderes to

Zorlu, no. 030 01 1819 (27 August 1955). 47. Ibid., no. 030 01 62 38510 (6 December 1958). 48. Dimitri Bitsios, Cyprus: The Vulnerable Republic (Thessaloniki: Institute for

Balkan Studies, 1975) pp. 29, 39, 56–7. 49. See Dilek Güven, Cumhuriyet Dönemi Azınlık Politikaları Bağlamında 6–7 Eylül

Olayları (İstanbul: Tarih Vakfı, 2005) p. 138. 50. Republican Archives of the Prime Ministry State Archives, no. 030 1 37 2222

(1955). 51. Ibid.


206

52. Ibid. 53. Bitsios, Cyprus, p. 94. 54. Attalides, Cyprus, p. 52; Stanley Mayes, Makarios: A Biography (London:

Macmillan, 1981) pp. 58, 77, 82, 114. 55. Charles Foley (ed.) The Memoirs of General Grivas (London: Longmans, 1964)

pp. 17–20, 29, 33. 56. Oberling, The Road to Bellapais, p. 41. 57. Ahmet Tolgay, Fırtına ve Şafak (Nicosia: Kıbrıs Türk Mücahitler Derneği,

1998) p. 26. 58. Aydin Akkurt, Türk Mukavemet Teşkilatı: 1957–1958 Mücadelesi (İstanbul: Secil,

1999) pp. 19, 31, 38–9. 59. Ibid., p. 32. 60. Ibid., pp. 47, 50. 61. Ibid., pp. 85–7, 214–16. 62. Republican Archives of the Prime Ministry State Archives, no. 030 01 38 227 4. 63. Foley, The Memoirs of General Grivas, pp. 200–3, 218. 64. Mayes, Makarios, p. 139. 65. Republican Archives of the Prime Ministry State Archives, Interior Ministry,

no. 030 01 69 438 8 (1959). 66. Republican Archives of the Prime Ministry State Archives, no. 030 01

6338614. 67. Tozun Bahcheli, ‘Searching for a Cyprus Settlement: Considering Options

for Creating a Federation, a Confederation or Two Independent States’, Publius: Journal of Federalism, vol. 30, nos 1–2, 2000, p. 204.

68. Oberling, The Road to Bellapais, pp. 63–6. 69. Metin Tamkoç, The Turkish Cypriot State: The Embodiment of the Right of Self-

Determination (London: Rustem, 1988) pp. 56–7, 63. 70. Joseph, Cyprus, pp. 138–44. 71. Brendan O’Malley and Ian Craig, The Cyprus Conspiracy: America, Espionage and

the Turkish Invasion (London: I.B.Tauris, 1999) pp. 29–30, 80, 141. 72. Ibid., pp. x, 3, 33, 79. 73. Thomas Adams and Alvin Cottrell, Cyprus Between East and West (Baltimore:

The Johns Hopkins Press, 1968) pp. 29, 35, 41, 50, 57, 68–9. 74. Tamkoç, The Turkish Cypriot State, p. 70. Also see, Joseph, Cyprus, p. 38. 75. Kızılyürek, Kıbrıs Sorununda İç ve Dış Etkenler, p. 111. 76. Republican Archives of the Prime Ministry State Archives, no. 030 01 16865

(1960). 77. Stavrinides, The Cyrus Conflict, pp. 4, 6–7. 78. Erim, Bildiğim ve Gördüğüm Ölçüler İçinde Kıbrıs, pp. 191–203. 79. Oberling, The Road to Bellapais, pp. 95, 97–9, 126. 80. Erim, Bildiğim ve Gördüğüm Ölçüler İçinde Kıbrıs, pp. 430–1. 81. Tolgay, Fırtına ve Şafak, pp. 101–3, 108–9. 82. Oberling, The Road to Bellapais, pp. 81–3. 83. Glafcos Clerides, Cyprus: My Deposition (Nicosia: Alithia) vol. 1, pp. 207–20.

NOTES

207

84. Kızılyürek, Kıbrıs Sorununda İç ve Dış Etkenler, p. 113. 85. Rauf Denktaş, Hatıralar: Toplayış (İstanbul: Boğaziçi, 2000) p. 211. 86. Markides, The Rise and Fall of the Cyprus Republic, pp. 118, 133. 87. Republican Archives of the Prime Ministry State Archives, no. 030 01 60373

12 (1951). 88. Sönmezoğlu, Türkiye–Yunanistan İlişkileri ve Büyük Güçler, p. 88. 89. Jacob Landau, Jews, Arabs, Turks: Selected Essays (Jerusalem: Magnes, 1993) p.

245. 90. Cyprus Mail, 24 November 1964, quoted in İsmail, Kıbrıs’ta Yunan Sorunu, p. 91. 91. Andreas G. Papandreu, Namlunun Ucundaki Demokrasi (İstanbul: Üçüncü

Dünya) pp. 169–70, 351. 92. Bitsios, Cyprus, pp. 130–1. 93. Erim, Bildiğim ve Gördüğüm Ölçüler İçinde Kıbrıs, p. 237. 94. Republican Archives of the Prime Ministry State Archives, no. 030 01

714524 (1964). 95. Erim, Bildiğim ve Gördüğüm Ölçüler İçinde Kıbrıs, pp. 349–57, 365, 375, 399–401,

428. 96. Republican Archives of the Prime Ministry State Archives, 030 01 43 2556

(1964). 97. Melek Fırat, 1960–71 Arası Türk Dış Politikası ve Kıbrıs Sorunu (Ankara:

Siyasal, 1997) pp. 138–9. 98. Erim, Bildiğim ve Gördüğüm Ölçüler İçinde Kıbrıs, p. 385. 99. Republican Archives of the Prime Ministry State Archives, no. 030 01 84625

(1964). 100. Erim, Bildiğim ve Gördüğüm Ölçüler İçinde Kıbrıs, pp. 55–6. Even though this

reference refers to the 1950s, this argument by leftist Turkish Cypriots such as members of the Republican Turkish Party continues to be repeated.

101. Republican Archives of the Prime Ministry State Archives, no. 030 01 84643 (1964).

102. Tamkoç, The Turkish Cypriot State, pp. 116–17. 103. Oberling, The Road to Bellapais, pp. 68, 79–81. 104. Reddaway, Burdened with Cyprus, pp. 73–5. 105. Kızılyürek, Kıbrıs Sorununda İç ve Dış Etkenler, pp. 123–4. 106. Mayes, Makarios, p. 212. 107. Ibid., pp. 223–4. 108. Reddaway, Burdened with Cyprus, p. 194, 198. 109. Ibid., p. 163. 110. Ercüment Yavuzalp, Kıbrıs Yangınında Büyükelçilik (İstanbul: İletişim) pp. 39–

40, 45, 62, 77, 85, 89, 102–3. 111. Republican Archives of the Prime Ministry State Archives, no. 0301 168910,

Prime Minister’s Statement (November 1967). 112. Yavuzalp, Kıbrıs Yangınında Büyükelçilik, p. 109. 113. Republican Archives of the Prime Ministry State Archives, no. 03001

106122, 19 October 1967.


208

114. Oberling, The Road to Bellapais, pp. 132, 141–5, 148, 156–7. 115. Rauf Denktaş, The Cyprus Triangle (London: George Allen & Unwin, 1982)

pp. 128–30. 116. Denktaş, Hatıralar, p. 379. 117. Ecmel Barutçu, Hariciye Koridoru (Ankara: 21. Yüzyıl Yayınları) pp. 67, 72. 118. Mehmet Ali Birand, 30 Hot Days (Nicosia: K. Rustem & Brother, 1985) pp.

21, 47–8. 119. Barutçu, Hariciye Koridoru, p. 270. 120. Mehmet Hasgüler, Kıbrıs’ta Enosis ve Taksim Politikalarının Sonu (Istanbul:

İletişim) p. 323. 121. Hulusi Kılıç, Bilateral Agreements, Essential Documents and Declarations

between Turkey and Greece since the Proclamation of the Turkish Republic (Ankara: Ministry of Foreign Affairs of the Republic of Turkey, 2000) p. 267.

122. Oberling, The Road to Bellapais, 192–3. 123. Clement Dodd, Storm Clouds over Cyprus (Huntingdon, Cambridgeshire:

Eothen, 2001) p. 18. 124. Oberling, The Road to Bellapais, p. 27. On the Megali Idea see Papandreu,

Namlunun Ucundaki Demokrasi, p. 80; and Theodore George Tatsios, The Megali Idea and the Greek–Turkish War of 1897 (New York: Columbia University Press, 1984) pp. 11–12.

125. Information provided by the embassy of TRNC in Ankara. Also see www.kibris.gen.tr

126. Hasgüler, Kıbrıs’ta Enosis ve Taksim Politikalarının Sonu, p. 85. 127. Barutçu, Hariciye Koridoru, pp. 129–30. 128. Sönmezoğlu, Türkiye–Yunanistan İlişkileri ve Büyük Güçler, p. 133. 129. Necati Ertekün, The Cyprus Dispute and the Birth of the Turkish Republic of

Northern Cyprus (Nicosia: Rustem, 1984) p. 71. Text of the 1977 agreement, p. 278. For the 1979 agreement, see p. 360.

130. Volkan, Cyprus – War and Adaptation, p. 117. 131. Anonymous, Girit Oyunu ve Kıbrıs, p. 213. 132. Kemal Arı, Büyük Mübadele (İstanbul: Tarih Vakfı, 1995) pp. v, 1, 92, 177. 133. Kızılyürek, Kıbrıs Sorununda İç ve Dış Etkenler, pp. 84–5, 87–8. 134. Sönmezoğlu, Türkiye–Yunanistan İlişkileri ve Büyük Güçler, pp. 3–4, 8–9, 14. 135. Kılıç, Bilateral Agreements, p. 309–11. 136. Ibid., p. 343. 137. Ibid., p. 347. 138. Ibid., pp. 353–9. 139. Ibid., pp. 371. See letter from Cem to George Papandreou, 24 May 1999, p. 375. 140. For their texts see Kılıç, Bilateral Agreements, pp. 385–422. 141. Melih Esenbel, Kıbrıs (1): Ayağa Kalkan Adam, 1954–1959 (Ankara: Bilgi) pp.

26–7, 30–1. 142. Esenbel, Kıbrıs (1), pp. 10–11. Needless to say Denktaş agreed with this

explanation. He also added that the international conjuncture was opportune in 1974. Interview with Rauf Denktaş, 4 June 2002.

NOTES

209

143. Fiona Adamson, ‘Democratization and the Domestic Sources of Foreign Policy: Turkey in the 1974 Cyprus Crisis’, Political Science Quarterly, vol. 2, no. 116, 2001, p. 296. Adamson argues that the real reason for the Turkish inter-vention was to preserve national unity because democratizing societies follow more agressive foreign policies, p. 299.

144. Alparslan Türkeş, Dış Politikamız ve Kıbrıs (Istanbul: Cem, n.d.) pp. 7, 111–12, 130, 244.

145. Ibid., pp. 161, 197–8. 146. Barutçu, Hariciye Koridoru, p. 50. 147. Esenbel, Kıbrıs (1), pp. 14–16. 148. Interview with Denktaş. 149. Ibid. 150. Ismail, Kibrıs’ta Yunan Sorunu, pp. 53–5. 151. Interview with Ecevit, 29 January 2004. 152. Edward Mansfield, and Jack Snyder, ‘Democratization and the Danger of

War’, in Michael Brown, Owen Cote, Sean Lynn-Jones and Steven Miller (eds) Theories of War and Peace (Cambridge, MA: The MIT Press) pp. 221, 223, 234, 242, 245, 251.

153. Barutçu, Hariciye Koridoru, pp. 15–16. 154. Adams and Cottrell. Cyprus Between East and West, pp. 78–9. 155. Clerides, Cyprus: My Deposition, vol. 4, p. 464. 156. Ibid., vol. 1, pp. 17, 21. 157. Hasgüler, Kıbrıs’ta Enosis ve Taksim Politikalarının Sonu, pp. 102–3. 158. Kızılyürek, Kıbrıs Sorununda İç ve Dış Etkenler, p. 292. 159. Christopher Hitchens, Cyprus (London: Quartet Books Ltd, 1984) p. 151. 160. Bahcheli, ‘Searching for a Cyprus Settlement’, pp. 213, 216.

6. The Karabagh Issue and the Emergence of the Turkic World 1. Audrey Altstadt, The Azerbaijani Turks: Power and Identity under Russian Rule

(Stanford: Hoover Institution Press, 1992) p. xviiii. 2. Richard Pipes, The Formation of the Soviet Union (Cambridge, MA: Harvard

University Press, 1997) pp. 2, 13–14. 3. Ibid., pp. 77–8, 158. 4. Ibid., p. 191. 5. Charles Warren Hostler, Turkism and the Soviets: The Turks of the World and their

Political Objectives (London: George Allen & Unwin, 1957) pp. 193–7. 6. Muhammed Salih, Türkistan Şuuru (Istanbul: Ötüken) pp. 154–5, 166. 7. Gareth Winrow, Turkey in post-Soviet Central Asia (London: The Royal Institute

of International Affairs, 1995) p. 13. 8. Duygu Bazoğlu Sezer, ‘Turkey in the New Security Environment in the

Balkan and Black Sea Region’, in Vojtech Mastny and Craig Nation, Turkey Between East and West (Boulder: Westview, 1996) pp. 72–3.

9. Ibid., p. 80. 10. Craig Nation, ‘The Turkic and Other Muslim Peoples of Central Asia, the


210

Caucasus, and the Balkans’, in Vojtech Mastny and Craig Nation, Turkey Between East and West (Boulder: Westview, 1996) p. 98.

11. Ibid., p. 105. 12. On soft power see Joseph Nye, Soft Power: The Means to Success in World Politics

(New York: Public Affairs, 2004). 13. Oran, Türk Dış Politikası, vol. 2, pp. 370–2, 378. 14. Ibid., p. 383–5, 387; Safizadeh, Fereydoun. ‘On Dilemmas of Identity in the Post-

Soviet Republic of Azerbaijan’, Caucasian Regional Studies, vol. 3, no. 1, 1998, http://poli.vub.ac.be/publi/crs/eng/0301-04.htm (accessed 31 January 2010).

15. Oran, Türk Dış Politikası, vol. 2, pp. 388–90. 16. Sabri Sayari, ‘Turkey, the Caucasus and Central Asia’, in Ali Banuazizi and

Myron Weiner (eds) The New Geopolitics of Central Asia and its Borderlands (London: I.B. Tauris, 1994) p. 191.

17. Oran, Türk Dış Politikası, vol. 2, p. 397. 18. Ibid., pp. 437–9. 19. Sayari, ‘Turkey, the Caucasus and Central Asia’, pp. 192–3. 20. Oran, Türk Dış Politikası, vol. 2, p. 391. 21. Cavid Abdullayev, ‘Azerbaycan’da Anayasallaşma Süreci ve Benimsenen

Sistemin Niteliği’, Avrasya Dosyası, vol. 7, no. 1, Spring 2001, p. 117. 22. Ali Faik Demir, Türk Dış Politikası Perspektifinden Güney Kafkasya (Istanbul:

Bağlam, 2003) p. 202. 23. Aykan, Turkey’s Role in the Organization of the Islamic Conference, p. 142. 24. Bilal Şimşir, The Turks of Bulgaria, 1878–1985 (London: K. Rüstem & Brother,

1988) pp. xv–xvi, 6. 25. Aykan, Turkey’s Role in the Organization of the Islamic Conference, pp. 145–7. 26. Şimşir, The Turks of Bulgaria, p. 25–6. 27. Birgül Demirtaş-Çoşkun, Bulgaristan’la Yeni Dönem (Ankara: ASAM, 2001) pp.

31–2. 28. Şimşir, The Turks of Bulgaria, p. 316. 29. Demirtaş-Çoşkun, Bulgaristan’la Yeni Dönem, p. 41. 30. Ibid., pp. 62–3. 31. Aykan, Turkey’s Role in the Organization of the Islamic Conference, p. 148. 32. Hürriyet, 26 January 2005. 33. Araz Aslanlı, ‘Tarihten Günümüze Karabağ Sorunu’, Avrasya Dosyası, vol. 7,

no. 1, Spring 2001, p. 394. 34. Ömer Göksel İşyar, Sovyet–Rus Dış Politikaları ve Karabağ Sorunu (Istanbul:

Alfa, 2004) p. 178. 35. Cemalettin Taşkıran, Geçmişten Günümüze Karabağ Meselesi (Ankara:

Genelkurmay, 1995) p. 79. 36. İşyar, Sovyet–Rus Dış Politikaları ve Karabağ Sorunu, pp. 155, 167, 172–3. 37. Tadeusz Swietochowski, ‘Azerbaijan’s Triangular Relationship: The Land

Between Russia, Turkey and Iran’, in Ali Banuazizi and Myron Weiner (eds) The New Geopolitics of Central Asia and Its Borderlands (London: I.B.Tauris, 1994) pp. 118–19, 122–3.

NOTES

211

38. Mehmet Saray, Azerbaycan Türkleri Tarihi (Istanbul: Nesil, 1993) pp. 34–5. 39. Cengiz Çağla, ‘The Liberal and Socialist Influences on Azerbaijani

Nationalism at the Beginning of the 20th Century’, Central Asian Survey, vol. 21, no. 1, 2002, p. 112.

40. Mehmed Emin Resulzade, Azerbaycan Cumhuriyeti (Istanbul: Azerbaycan Tdrkleri Kultur ve Damsma lrneii, 1990) p. 17.

41. Nazım Cafersoy, Elçibey Dönemi Azerbaycan Dış Politikası, Haziran 1992–Haziran 1993: Bir Bağımsızlık Mücadelesinin Diplomatik Öyküsü (Ankara: Association for Solidarity with Asylum Seekers and Migrants, 2001) p. 3.

42. Audrey Altstadt quoted in Çağla, ‘The Liberal and Socialist Influences on Azerbaijani Nationalism at the Beginning of the 20th Century’, p. 114.

43. Safizadeh, ‘On Dilemmas of Identity in the Post-Soviet Republic of Azerbaijan’, http://poli.vub.ac.be/publi/crs/eng/0301-04.htm.

44. Cafersoy, Elçibey Dönemi Azerbaycan Dış Politikası, pp. 3, 59. 45. Nesib Nesibli, ‘Azerbaycan’ın Milli Kimlik Sorunu’, Avrasya Dosyası, vol. 7,

no. 1, Spring 2001, p. 146–8. 46. Altstadt, The Azerbaijani Turks, p. 92; Saray, Azerbaycan Türkleri Tarihi, pp. 36–7. 47. Saray, Azerbaycan Türkleri Tarihi, pp. 38–9. 48. Ibid., p. 41. 49. Resulzade, Azerbaycan Cumhuriyeti, pp. xv–xviii, 5, 7, 70, 72–3. 50. Saray, Azerbaycan Türkleri Tarihi, p. 44. 51. Altstadt, The Azerbaijani Turks, p. 109. 52. Demir, Türk Dış Politikası perspektifinden Güney Kafkasya, p. 36. 53. Pipes, The Formation of the Soviet Union, p. 222. 54. Resulzade, Azerbaycan Cumhuriyeti, p. 126. 55. Altsadt, The Azerbaijani Turks, pp. 69–70. 56. Safizadeh, ‘On Dilemmas of Identity in the Post-Soviet Republic of

Azerbaijan’. For the application of the Great purge in Armenia, see Ronald Grigor Suny, Looking Toward Ararat: Armenia in Modern History (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1993) pp. 156–7.

57. Altstadt, The Azerbaijani Turks, pp 141–2, 149–50. 58. İşyar, Sovyet–Rus Dış Politikaları ve Karabağ Sorunu, pp. 339–41, 355–6. 59. Altsatdt, The Azerbaijani Turks, p. 126–7. 60. Suny, Looking Toward Ararat, pp. 188, 195. 61. Nagorno Karabagh, http://www.armeniaforeignministry.am/htms/karabagh

_a_white_paper.html 62. Cafersoy, Elçibey Dönemi Azerbaycan Dış Politikası, pp. 9, 11–13. 63. Ibid., pp. 16–17, 36. 64. Ibid., pp. 22, 24–6. 65. Saray, Azerbaycan Türkleri Tarihi, pp. 7. 66. Suha Bolukbasi, ‘Ankara’s Baku-Centered Transcaucasia Policy: Has it

Failed?’, Middle East Journal, vol. 51, no. 1, 1997, p. 83. 67. Ibid., p. 83. 68. Cafersoy, Elçibey Dönemi Azerbaycan Dış Politikası, pp. 72, 86, 95, 98.


212

69. Araz Aslanlı, ‘Tarihten Günümüze Karabağ Sorunu’, p. 404. 70. Cafersoy, Elçibey Dönemi Azerbaycan Dış Politikası, pp. 41–2. 71. Kamer Kasım, ‘The Nagorno–Karabagh Conflict from its Inception to the

Peace Process’, Armenian Studies, June–August 2001, p. 170. 72. Nagorno Karabagh, http://www.armeniaforeignministry.am/htms/karabagh

_a_white_paper.html 73. Svante Cornell, ‘Turkey and the Conflict in Nagorno Karabagh: A Delicate

Balance’, Middle Eastern Studies, vol. 34, no. 1, January 1998, p. 51. 74. İşyar, Sovyet–Rus Dış Politikaları ve Karabağ Sorunu, pp. 389–90. 75. Senol Kantarci, ‘Bir Milyon Azerbaycan Türkü AİHM’ne başvurmalıdır’,

Orkun, July 2004, vol. 77, pp. 10–11. 76. Kamer Kasım, ‘The Nagorno–Karabagh Conflict from its Inception to the

Peace Process’, Armenian p. 173. 77. İşyar, Sovyet–Rus Dış Politikaları ve Karabağ Sorunu, p. 423–4; Kasım, ‘The

Nagorno–Karabagh Conflict from its Inception to the Peace Process’, p. 174.

78. Cafersoy, Elçibey Dönemi Azerbaycan Dış Politikası, pp. 44, 46; Saray, Azerbaycan Türkleri Tarihi, pp. 110–11.

79. Cafersoy, Elçibey Dönemi Azerbaycan Dış Politikası, pp. 118, 124. 80. Altstadt, The Azerbaijani Turks, pp. 195, 198. 81. Suny, Looking Toward Ararat, pp. 210, 229–30. 82. Nagorno Karabagh, http://www.armeniaforeignministry.am/htms/karabagh

_a_white_paper.html 83. Bolukbasi, ‘Ankara’s Baku-Centered Transcaucasia Policy’, p. 81. 84. Demir, Türk Dış Politikası Perspektifinden Güney Kafkasya, p. 275. 85. Cafersoy, Elçibey Dönemi Azerbaycan Dış Politikası, p. 128, 132. 86. Bolukbasi, ‘Ankara’s Baku-Centered Transcaucasia Policy’, pp. 84, 86. 87. İşyar, Sovyet-Rus Dış Politikaları ve Karabağ Sorunu, p. 5. 88. Saray, Azerbaycan Türkleri Tarihi, pp. 138–9, 145–6. 89. Anonymous, ‘Documents’, Armenian Studies, vol. 1, no. 2, June–August 2001,

pp. 264–5. 90. Ömer Lütem, ‘Olaylar ve Yorumlar’, Armenian Studies, vol. 2, June–August

2001, p. 14. 91. Bolukbasi, ‘Ankara’s Baku-Centered Transcaucasia Policy’, pp. 84–5. 92. Cafersoy, Elçibey Dönemi Azerbaycan Dış Politikası, p. 144; Nagorno Karabagh,

http://www.armeniaforeignministry.am/htms/karabagh_a_white_paper.htm1 93. Levon Chorbajian, Patrick Donabedian and Claude Mutafian, The Caucasian

Knot: The History and Geopolitics of Nagorno-Karabagh (London: Zed Books, 1994) p. 29.

94. Bolukbasi, ‘Ankara’s Baku-Centered Transcaucasia Policy’, p. 82. 95. Ibid., p. 85. 96. İşyar, Sovyet–Rus Dış Politikaları ve Karabağ Sorunu, p. 454. 97. Cafersoy, Elçibey Dönemi Azerbaycan Dış Politikası, pp. 86–7, 89–90. 98. United Nations Security Council Resolution 822.

NOTES

213

99. United Nations Security Council Resolution 853. 100. United Nations Security Council Resolution 884. 101. Lütem, ‘Olaylar ve Yorumlar’, p. 13. 102. Ibid., pp. 14–15. 103. İşyar, Sovyet–Rus Dış Politikaları ve Karabağ Sorunu, pp. 587–8. 104. Ibid., pp. 614–616. 105. Ibid., pp. 434, 468–70. 106. Samuel Huntington, ‘The Clash of Civilizations?’, Foreign Affairs, vol. 72, no.

3, Summer 1993, p. 35. 107. Altstadt, The Azerbaijani Turks, pp. 177–8, 191; Bolukbasi, ‘Ankara’s Baku-

Centered Transcaucasia Policy’, pp. 87, 92. 108. İşyar, Sovyet–Rus Dış Politikaları ve Karabağ Sorunu, p. 407. 109. Demir, Türk Dış Politikası Perspektifinden Güney Kafkasya, p. 101. 110. Ibid., p. 172. 111. Lütem, ‘Olaylar ve Yorumlar’, pp. 9–10. 112. Aslanlı, ‘Tarihten Günümüze Karabağ Sorunu’, pp. 420–1. 113. Demir, Türk Dış Politikası Perspektifinden Güney Kafkasya, p. 116. 114. Lütem, ‘Olaylar ve Yorumlar’, pp. 17, 22. 115. Chorbajian et al., The Caucasian Knot, p. 11. 116. Ibid., pp. 32, 34. 117. Philip Robins, ‘Between Sentiment and Self-Interest: Turkey’s Policy toward

Azerbaijan and the Central Asian States’, Middle East Journal, vol. 47, no. 4, 1993, pp. 596, 610.

118. Chorbajian et al., The Caucasian Knot, p. 134. 119. Demir, Türk Dış Politikası Perspektifinden Güney Kafkasya, pp. 164–5, 167. 120. Ibid., p. 116. 121. Aslanlı, ‘Azerbaycan Ermenistan gerginliğine ateşsiz çözüm’, Cumhuriyet

Strateji, 5 July 2004. 122. Cornell, ‘Turkey and the Conflict in Nagorno Karabagh’, pp. 63–6. 123. Akşam, 8 January 2005. 124. Taşkıran, Geçmişten Günümüze Karabağ Meselesi, pp. 190, 194.

Conclusion: Competing Interests and Identities in Turkish Politics 1. As for Syria, this annexation demonstrated the collaboration of former

imperial rulers of the region – the Turks and the current imperial master, France – in a sinister plot to steal Arab territory. From a Syrian perception, the annexation of Hatay was a clear violation of Syrian territorial integrity. To this day, Hatay is marked as part of Syria in the maps of that country.

2. Akşam, 8 January 2005; Milliyet, 4 January 2005.

214

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229

Index

Acheson, Dean, 130 Adana, 40, 89, 92, 96 Adanbegiyan, Abel, 174 Aegean, 3, 41, 74, 82, 85, 107,

121, 138–43 Afghanistan, 65–6, 155 Africa, 27–8 Afyon, 41 Aga, Süleyman Mustafa, 62 Agdam, 177 Ağrı region, 65 Akayev, Askar, 158 Akçura, Yusuf, 38 Akritas plan, 128 Akrotiri, 125–6 Alawite/Alawites, 93, 98–100 Albania, 64, 72; Albanian, 57;

Albanians, 46, 48, 58 Albright, Madeleine, 140 Aleppo, 44, 88–9, 93–4, 96,

99, 102 Alexandretta, 41, 44, 88–96,

98–9, 101–2; Gulf of, 85, 91, 101

Algeria, 60, 164 Ali, Dr Ihsan, 131 Ali Paşa, 63 Aliyev, Haidar, 168, 178–9 Aliyev, Ilham, 181 All-Muslim Congress, 156 Alstadt, Audrey, 155 America, 28, 32, 61; see also

United States Amman, 164

Anatolia, 40–1, 44, 51, 88, 91, 96, 112, 136, 138, 142, 150, 155, 167, 177

Anderson, Benedict, 27–8 Ankara, 14, 40–1, 46, 64–5,

69, 94, 97, 101, 120, 124, 138, 158, 160, 165, 175, 179, 182; Ankara Agreement, 92

Antalya, 95 Antep, 40, 94 Antioch, 41, 88–9, 94,

98–100 Arab League, 102 Arabia, 51 Arabism, 6, 21, 159 Aras, Tevfik Rüştü, 64–6,

95 Ardabil, 169 Ardahan, 40, 44, 68 Armenia, 4–5, 8, 68, 72, 87,

154–6, 163, 170–81, 187; Armenian, 5, 11, 40, 57, 84, 98, 127, 154–5, 166–7, 170–7, 179–82

Armenians, 4, 97–100, 154, 159, 166, 170–4, 177, 180; see also Karabagh Armenians

al-Arsuzi, Zaki, 94, 97, 99 Artvin, 40 Asaf, Consul General, 111 Asia, 27–8 Asia Minor, 136


230

Atatürk, Mustafa Kemal, 3, 23, 34, 36–47, 55, 58, 61, 64–5, 67–8, 71, 77, 81–3, 89–6, 98, 103, 107, 115, 121, 127, 138–40, 145–7, 168, 173, 178, 184, 186, 188–9, 191

Ateş, Atilla, 79 Ateş, Toktamış, 47 Athens, 64, 123–4, 130, 141,

165 Atsız, Hüseyin Nihal, 34,

38–9, 48–9, 51 Attalides, Michael A., 116 Austria, 19, 63 Averoff, Evangelos, 124 Azerbaijan, 2, 8, 14, 72, 84,

153–6, 159–60, 162–3, 166–82, 185–7, 189; Azerbaijani, 5, 11, 79, 143, 153–5, 160, 163, 167–9, 171, 173–4, 177–82, 187

Azeri, 161–3, 167–72, 174–7, 180

Azeris, 9, 31, 75, 155–6, 166–7, 169–74, 176; see also Karabagh Azeris

Azeri Revolutionary Command, 169

Baghdad, 65, 71 Baghdad Pact, 68, 83 Baha, Muhittin, 42 Bahçeli, Devlet, 179 Baku, 10, 71, 161, 163, 166,

168–76, 178–9, 187 Baku Turcological Congress,

43 Baku–Ceyhan pipeline,

10–11, 161, 163, 174, 187

Balkans, 11, 25, 33, 57, 59–60, 64–6, 72, 74–5, 106, 155, 158, 167, 189; Balkan, 166, 190

Balkan Entente, 121 Balkan Pact, 64–6, 83 Balkan War, 107 Balkans Union Conference,

64 Balkars, 156 Barnett, Michael, 21–2 Bashkirs, 156 Baskiria, 157 Bath Party, 102 Batum, 44 Batumi, 40–1, 52, 64, 103 Bayar, President Celâl, 122,

124, 147 Baybars, Sultan, 88 Bayir, 99 Bayly, C. A., 28 Beilan, 89, 101 Bektaş, Hacı, 50 Bereket, Mustafa, 99 Berlin, 63 Berlin, Treaty of, 144 Bewker, James, 120 Bilgiç, Said, 50 Bir, Çevik, 72 Bitsios, Dimitri, 121 Black Sea, 66, 72, 140 Black Sea Economic

Cooperation (BSEC), 66, 72, 75, 83, 140, 179

Bloody Christmas, 127 Boğaziçi (Aios Theodoras),

133–4 Bolshevik, 168–70 Bölükbaşı, Osman, 134 Bonnet, Georges, 100

INDEX

231

Bosnia, 57, 73, 189–90; Bosnian, 57, 79; Bosnians, 58, 73, 75

Bosporus, 59, 61 Brazil, 60 Breuilly, John, 29 Britain, 7, 11, 44, 55, 65, 68,

83, 97, 100, 103, 106–7, 109, 117–18, 120–2, 125–6, 144; see also United Kingdom

Brubaker, Rogers, 30 Brussels, 71 Bucak, 99 Büyük Taarruz, 41 Buhara, 65 Bulgaria, 7, 30, 52, 64, 72,

143, 154, 156, 162–5, 175 Bursa, 41 Bush, George, 188 Byzantine Empire, 112 Byzantium, 136 Cairo, 71 Cameroon, 164 Canada, 18 capitalism, 27–8, 42 Carr, E. H., 16 Caspian Sea, 153, 163, 179,

187 Caucasus, 11, 25, 57, 59–60,

67, 72, 74–5, 106, 153, 155–6, 158–9, 162, 168, 174, 179, 189–90

Çelebi, Yirmisekiz Mehmet, 62

Cem, Ismail, 140 Central Asia, 11, 39, 59, 67,

95, 106, 153, 155, 158, 161, 162

Central Treaty Organization (CENTO), 68, 83

Çetin, Hikmet, 173, 175 Ceyhan, 11, 163 Chechnya, 57; Chechen, 79;

Chechens, 57–8, 75 China, 7, 87, 155, 157, 186 Churchill, Winston, 91 Cilicia, 92 Çiller, Tansu, 179 Circassians, 46, 57 civic nationalism, 30 classical realism, 17 Clerides, Glafcos, 149 Clinton, Bill, 176 Çokay, Mustafa, 158 cold war, 3, 20, 25, 61, 68, 71,

75, 117, 126, 150, 185, 189–90

colonialism, 25, 28 Çolpan, Süleyman, 158 Committee of State Security

(KGB), 178 Commonwealth of

Independent States (CIS), 173, 178

Communal Liberation Party (TKP), 149

communism, 49, 53 Communist Party, 116, 169,

171, 178 Conference on Security and

Cooperation in Europe(CSCE), 175, 177

conservative nationalism, 6, 11, 34–6, 38–9, 50–1, 53

Constantine, Emperor, 41 Constantine, King, 41 constructivism, 4, 11, 15–16,

18, 20–1, 23, 32, 184, 190


232

constructivist school, 17, 19 cosmopolitanism, 32 Council of Europe, 71, 83 Crete, 7, 112, 138, 150 Crimea, 30, 59, 155–6, 166 Crusaders, 88 Cuba, 18 Cyprus, 3–5, 7–14, 25–7, 30,

33, 37, 52, 55–6, 68–71, 73–6, 78–82, 84–5, 91, 103, 105–21, 123–52, 154–6, 159–60, 162–3, 175, 180–90; Cypriotism, 114

Cyprus is Turkish, 78, 122, 145

Czech Republic, 19 Damascus, 79 Dardanelles, 59, 61 Davos, 139–40 Demirel, Süleyman, 69, 80–1,

134, 140, 143, 158, 160, 172–4, 179, 181–2

democracy, 20, 37–9, 58–60, 72, 105, 116, 146–7, 150, 176

Democratic Left, 33 Democratic Left Party (DSP),

33, 39, 54, 174 Democratic Party (DP), 39,

47, 70, 77, 115, 116, 127, 144, 146, 147

Democratic Society Party (DTP), 183

Denktaş, Rauf, 70, 108, 123–4, 131, 135, 137, 142, 145

Dersim, 90 Derviş Paşa, 110 Deutsch, Karl, 27

Dhekelia, 125 Dırvana, Emin, 145 Dodecanese, 82, 138 Doğan, Ahmet, 164 Dörtyol, 88, 92, 95 East Turkestan, 43, 87, 155,

157 Ecevit, Bülent, 37, 69, 70, 78,

80–1, 105, 108, 135, 145, 147, 179, 188

Economic Cooperation Organization (ECO), 67, 75, 83

Eden, Anthony, 111 Edirne, 44 Egypt, 22, 60–1, 88, 91, 126,

128; Egyptians, 109 Elchibey, Abulfayz, 160,

168–9, 171–4, 178 Emre, Yunus, 50 enosis, 7, 109–17, 119, 121,

123–4, 126, 128–30, 132–4, 138–9, 143, 149; Elliniki enosis, 129

Enver Paşacılık, 3 Enver Pashaism, 3, 43, 58 EOKA-B, 134 Erbakan, Necmettin, 81, 152 Erdoğan, Recep Tayyip, 152 Erenköy (Koffina), 128, 131,

136 Ergin, Muharrem, 50 Erim, Nihat, 119 Erzurum, 44, 163 Esenbel, Melih, 144 Eskişehir, 95 étatism, 39 Ethiopia, 66 ethnic conflict, 25, 106

INDEX

233

ethnic identity, 30; see also identity

ethnic nationalism, 34–5, 38–9, 48–50; see also nationalism

ethnicity, 27–8, 30, 35, 38, 49, 83, 165

ethnies, 24, 37 Eurasia, 59, 162 Europe, 3, 13, 24–5, 28, 38,

62–3, 70, 72, 83, 97, 100–1, 161, 165, 181

European Coal and Steel Community, 25

European Commission, 71 European Economic

Community (EEC), 125

European Union (EU), 5, 10, 23, 25, 33, 47, 58–9, 62, 67–8, 71, 73, 75–6, 79, 107, 149–50, 152, 154, 159, 181, 186, 189–90

evkaf, 118 external Turks, 9–10, 23, 36,

45, 48, 56, 151, 163, 184, 191

Faisal, King, 65 Famagusta, 135 fascism, 49 Fez, 70, 164 First World War, 3, 16, 30,

44, 56, 82, 91, 93, 109, 138, 154, 168

Foot, Hugh, 120 Forsthoff, Ernst, 132 France, 41, 44, 62, 83–5,

89–93, 96–7, 100–2, 107, 155, 175, 181

Franklin-Bouillon, Henri, 92, 101

Freedom Support Act, 176 Fuad Paşa, 63 Gaspıralı, İsmail, 156–7 Gaza, 20 Geçitkale (Kophinou), 133–4 Gellner, Ernest, 27–9 Gence, 178 Geneva, 130, 136 Genja, 168, 172 genocide, 57, 80, 105, 154,

170, 173–4, 176, 179, 181–2

Georgia, 72, 103, 156, 163, 169, 180; Georgian, 40, 52, 167; Georgians, 48

Germany, 16, 19, 30, 68, 97, 107

Gizikis, Phaidon, 134 Gladstone, William, 109 Gökalp, Ziya, 38, 49, 169 Goradiz, 177 Gorbachev, Mikhail, 174 Great Terror, 170 Greece, 3, 7, 11–12, 25, 30,

41, 49, 52, 56, 64, 67, 72, 74–5, 82, 100, 103, 105–6, 109–14, 116, 118–23, 125–6, 128, 130, 132–43, 148–50, 154, 156, 159, 162–3, 165, 175, 186

Greek Orthodox Church, 112 Green Line, 128 Greenfeld, Liah, 27 grey wolf, 39, 115 Grivas, George, 108, 116,

123–4, 129, 131, 133–4 Gül, Abdullah, 80


234

Güngör, Erol, 38 Gürel, Şükrü, 33 Gürsel, Cemal, 127 Gulf war/Gulf wars, 6,

60–1, 72–4, 80, 183, 188

Gulistan, Treaty of, 166

Hamam, 99 Hananu, Ibrahim, 93 Harding, John, 120 Hare, Raymond, 129 Harim, 89 Hassa, 88, 92 Hatay, 8–13, 41, 52, 55, 61,

64, 67, 79, 82–5, 88–90, 92–8, 100–5, 111–12, 117, 148, 150–1, 161, 163, 184–7

Hebron, 73 Helsinki, 73 Hinnebusch, Raymond, 6 Hira, Mount, 51 Hitler, Adolf, 19 Hittites, 95, 109 Hive, 65 Hobsbawm, Eric, 29 Holbrooke, Richard, 60 House of Commons,

118 Hovanissian, Rafi, 174 Hoyski, Fethali Khan, 168 Hüseyinzade, Ali, 170 human rights norms, 20 Hungary, 30 Huntington, Samuel, 32 Huseyinov, Suret, 178 Hussein, King, 22 Hussein, Sharif, 91

Husseinov, Suret, 172 ideational factors, 3, 8, 15, 17,

20, 142, 155, 184, 187, 189 identity, 1–9, 12, 18–20, 22,

24, 29, 32, 37, 45, 48, 51, 56, 113, 115, 147–9, 156, 158, 165, 168, 170, 173, 183–4, 186–90; see also ethnic identity; Islamic identity; Kemalist state identity; national identity; state identity; Turkish identity

Ilgaz, Hasene, 112 Ilıcak, Kemal, 50 imperialism, 25, 32, 42, 45,

62, 66, 69 İnan, Afet, 47 India, 60, 155 industrialization, 27 Inönü, İsmet, 36, 43, 47, 64,

68–9, 77, 90, 95, 101, 112, 128–9, 131, 146–7, 188

Inönü battle, 41 Intellectuals’ Hearth (Aydınlar

Ocağı), 35, 50, 93 International Court of Justice,

33, 140–1 Iran, 25, 31, 62, 65, 67–8,

155, 168, 170–1, 173 Iraq, 3, 7, 11–12, 30, 34, 43,

52, 60–1, 65, 68, 73–5, 80, 84, 103–4, 143, 151, 156, 159, 162, 183, 187, 189

irredentism, 4, 12, 24, 45, 48, 61, 82, 89, 102, 105, 141, 157, 180, 185–6

Işbank, 122

INDEX

235

İskenderun, see under Alexandretta

Islam, 42, 47–51, 59, 67, 70, 160, 169

Islamic identity, 51; see also identity

Ismail, Shah, 31 Israel, 20, 22, 25, 69, 73, 75,

79, 189 Istanbul, 41, 43, 62–3, 70, 88,

91, 122, 124, 136, 138–9, 141, 161, 165

Italy, 66, 82, 97, 138, 175 İyidoğan, Akif, 94 İzmir, 40–1, 110, 122, 136 Japan, 19 Jericho, 20 Jerusalem, 88, 190 Johnson, Lyndon, 69, 85, 129 Jordan, 22 Justice and Development

Party (JDP), 23, 47, 152 Justice Party, 37, 39 Kabaklı, Ahmed, 50 Kabul, 65 Kafesoğlu, İbrahim, 38, 50 Kanatlı, Şükrü, 96 Karabagh, 4–6, 9–11, 25, 84,

87, 151, 154, 160–1, 163, 166, 168–77, 179–84, 187

Karabagh Armenians, 5, 170–2, 179; see also Armenians

Karabagh Azeris, 4; see also Azeris

Karachay, 57, 156 Karamanlis, Konstantinos,

108, 124, 136, 139

Karasapan, Celal Tevfik, 99 Kardak-Imia rocks, 138 Kari, Münevver, 158 Karpas, 130 Kars, 40, 44, 68, 163; Kars

Treaty, 180 Kasimov, Tevfik, 176 Kaya, Şükrü, 96 Kazakh, 155 Kazakhstan, 2, 8, 30, 153,

156–7, 160, 175 Kazan, 156 Kedourie, Elie, 27 Kelbejar, 177 Kemalism, 8, 11, 15, 20,

34–6, 38–40, 45–7, 51, 54–6, 62, 67, 74, 100, 182, 185, 190––1

Kemalist nationalism, 2, 8, 34–5, 39, 44–6, 48, 50, 52, 61; see also nationalism

Kemalist state identity, 2–3, 7, 15, 34, 36, 43, 52, 56, 75, 84, 106, 148, 157, 189

Kenya, 83 Kerimov, Islam, 158 Khojaly, 172 Khoury, Philip, 101 Khrushchev, Nikita, 131 Kirkuk, 12, 44, 52, 143, 151,

187–8 Kışlalı, Ahmet Taner, 47 Kissinger, Henry, 85, 131 Kocharyan, Robert, 179 Köprülü, Fuat, 77, 115, 117,

144 Korean War, 147 Kosovo, 72, 156 Kosovo Force (KFOR), 72 Kramer, Heinz, 74


236

Kuba, 166 Küçük, Dr Fazıl, 112, 123–4,

132 Küçük Kaymaklı, 127 Kumsal, 127 Kurdistan Workers’ Party

(PKK), 73, 79–80, 141, 182–3

Kurds, 39, 46, 48, 61, 187 Kuseyr, Abdülgani, 99 Kuvayı Milliye, 40 Kyprianou, Spyros, 137 Kyrenia, 135 Kyrgyz, 31, 155–6, 158 Kyrgyzstan, 2, 8, 153, 160,

175 Kyrou, Alexis, 109 Labour Party, 59, 70 Lachin, 172, 174, 177 Larnaca, 109, 133 Latakia, 93 Lausanne, 138 Lausanne, Treaty of, 44, 55,

61, 64, 92–3, 103, 109, 119, 136, 139, 141, 144–5, 165

Lawrence, T. E., 91 League of Nations, 64, 66, 84,

89, 95–6, 103 Lebanon, 101 Lennox-Boyd, Alan, 118 Lezgis, 178 liberalism, 21 Libya, 164 Limassol, 110, 128, 133 Lisbon, 177 Lissarides, Vasos, 126 London, 63, 116, 122, 124–8,

130, 133, 139, 141, 144, 148, 151

London Conference, 120, 122 Lusignans, 109 Luxembourg, 73 Lynch, Marc, 22 MacMahon, Henry, 91 Macmillan plan, 120 Madrid, 140 Makarios, Archbishop, 85,

107–8, 116, 122–4, 126–34, 137, 149

Mamluk, 88 Manizade, Derviş, 112 Mansfield, Edward, 146 Maraş, 40 Mardam, Jamal, 96, 102 Maronite, 127 Massigli, René, 97, 100–1 Mavratas, Caesar, 114 Mediterranean, 11, 61, 88, 91,

97, 108–9, 119–21, 139, 141–3, 161, 163, 187

Megali Idea, 112, 136 Melek, Abdurrahman, 93, 97,

100 Menderes, Adnan, 43, 108,

116, 118–19, 121–2, 141 Mersin, 40, 92, 96, 101 Mesketians, 156 Mexico, 60 Middle East, 6, 10–11, 25, 27,

38, 59–60, 66, 72, 74–5, 82, 85, 106, 155, 161, 189–90

millet system, 113 Minsk Group, 175, 177,

179 Misak-ı Milli, 44 modernism, 26 Moldova, 33, 72, 156 Mongolia, 155

INDEX

237

Montreux, 84, 151; Montreux Convention, 84; Treaty of, 61, 64, 148

Moravcsik, Andrew, 21 Morean peninsula, 137 Morgenthau, Hans, 16 Morocco, 69, 164 Moscow, 40, 65, 156, 160,

169, 173, 178, 182; Moscow Treaty, 180

Mosul, 44, 52, 64–5, 90, 103, 140, 143, 151, 162, 183–4, 187–8

Motherland Party (ANAP), 33, 37, 39, 50, 53, 174, 183

Mudros, 103, 187; Mudros ceasefire, 44; Treaty of, 93, 168

Münir, Sir, 111 Mürsel, Ihsan, 99 Müteferrika, Ibrahim, 62 Muhammad, Prophet, 51 Muratağa, 136 Musavat (Equality) Party, 167 Muslim, 23, 36, 42, 51, 57, 59,

67, 70–1, 73, 110, 122, 138, 146, 153, 156, 158, 160, 164–7, 190

Muttalibov, Ayaz, 171–2 Nagorno-Karabagh, 3, 14,

166, 170–1, 174, 177; Nagorno-Karabagh Autonomous Oblast, 170; Nagorno-Karabagh conflict, 8, 12, 159

Nahcevan, 166, 173, 178, 180 Nalbantoğlu, Burhan, 123 Nasser, Gamal Abdel, 22 Nation Party, 134

National Action Party (NAP), 39

National Front, 50 National Guard, 129, 135 national identity, 6, 20, 36, 47,

49–50, 113, 115, 132, 136, 167–8, 170, 183; see also identity

National Intelligence Organization (MIT), 77

National Organization of Cypriot Fighters (EOKA), 116, 123–4, 127–8, 132, 134, 139

National Pact, 41, 44, 52, 55, 64, 67, 93, 103, 109, 112, 144, 163, 185, 188–9

National Salvation Party (NSP), 33, 39, 81, 147

National Security Council, 76, 78

nationalism, 2, 6–8, 10–15, 20, 23–32, 34–9, 45–8, 51–2, 54, 56, 63, 75, 104, 106–15, 121, 146–8, 154, 156–7, 167, 169, 184–6, 191; see also under civic nationalism; conservative nationalism; ethnic nationalism; Kemalist nationalism; official nationalism; pan-nationalism(s); territorial nationalism

Nationalist Action Party (MHP), 33, 35, 37, 49, 51, 72, 143, 147, 154, 161, 174, 182

nationhood, 6, 19, 27, 31 Nazi, 16


238

Nerimanov, Neriman, 169–70

Netherlands, 181 Nicosia, 37, 110, 112, 123,

127, 135 Niyazov, Saparmurad, 61 Nizhnii Novgorod, 156 norms, 19, 21 North Atlantic Treaty

Organization (NATO), 10, 33, 56, 61, 68–72, 75, 83, 107, 120, 126, 129, 135, 137, 140, 145, 147–8, 150, 165

Nur, Rıza, 49 Öcalan, Abdullah, 80, 82 official nationalism, 11, 34,

35, 38; see also nationalism Omorphou, 135 Operation Atilla, 135 Oran, Baskin, 61 Organization for Security and

Cooperation in Europe (OSCE), 175, 177, 179

Organization of the Islamic Conference (OIC), 70–1, 164–5, 175

Oriental Institute, 43, 169 Ottoman Empire, 3, 7, 24,

31, 44, 57–8, 60, 62–4, 76, 82–3, 85, 109–10, 113–14, 137–8, 157, 166, 169, 183

Özal, Turgut, 50, 54, 71–2, 74, 79–80, 140, 155, 159–60, 173, 175, 181–3, 187–8

Özkan, Necati, 111 Pahlavi, Reza, 65

Pakistan, 67–8 Palestine, 22, 25, 31, 70, 101,

164 Palestine Liberation

Organization (PLO), 22, 69 pan-Arabism, 6, 22, 133, 159 Pangalos, Theodore, 140 pan-Germanism, 31 pan-Islamism, 46, 81 pan-nationalism(s), 12, 24, 31;

see also nationalism pan-Slavism, 31 pan-Turkism, 8–9, 11, 31, 38,

46, 48–9, 56, 71, 81, 154, 156–9, 161–2, 184–5

Papadopolous, General, 123 Papagos, Alexandros, 123,

139 Papandreou, Andreas, 130,

140 Papandreou, George, 130 Papandreu, Yorgos, 108, 139 Papaoinnaou, Ezekias, 116 Paphos, 128 Paris, 62, 63, 90 partition, 83, 113, 117–21,

124–6, 130, 151 patriotism, 29 Payas, 88 Peace of Westphalia, 16 Peker, Recep, 40 People’s House, 99 People’s Labour Party (HEP),

183 Pesmazoglu, John S., 125 Petrosyan, Giorgio, 179 Philemon, Ionnes, 109 Politburo, 178 political realism, 16 Popular Front, 171

INDEX

239

populism, 39 Prague, 175 Prizren, 72 Progressive Party of Working

People (AKEL), 116, 131 prohibitionary norms, 19 Rabat, 69 Rabin, Yitzhak, 20 racism, 38, 48, 49, 161 Radcliffe, Lord, 118 realism, 3, 11, 15–16, 20–2,

32, 67, 82, 148, 184, 190 Red Army, 40, 169, 171 reformism, 40 Republic of Cyprus (ROC),

108, 113–14, 123, 125–7, 130, 132, 148, 151

Republican People’s Party (RPP), 33, 35, 37, 39–40, 46–7, 50, 54, 70, 81, 115–16, 144, 146–7, 188

Republican Turkish Party (CTP), 149–50

republicanism, 39 Reşid Paşa, Mustafa, 63 Resulzade, Mehmed Emin,

156, 167–9 Reyhaniye, 99–100 Rhodes, 85, 142 Rights and Freedoms

Movement, 164 Robins, Philip, 73 Roman Empire, 88 Romania, 30, 64, 72, 156 Romans, 109 Rumi, Mevlana Celalettin

Rumi, 50 Russia, 5, 11, 30, 33, 40, 59,

61, 63, 65, 67, 72, 87, 109,

154–7, 159–61, 166, 173–5, 178, 180, 182–3; Russian, 25, 32, 40, 49, 84, 91, 155, 157–8, 160–2, 166–7, 172–5, 178

Sadabad Pact, 64–6, 83 Sadak, Necmettin, 115, 144 al-Said, Nuri, 102 Sait, Mehmet, 62 Sakarya, 41, 91 Sakharov, Andrei, 174 Salih, Muhammed, 50, 158 Salonika, 143 Sampson, Nicos, 127, 134 Sançar, Nejdet, 48, 49 Sancar, Semih, 78 Sandallar, 136 Sanjian, Avedis, 101 Saraçoğlu, Şükrü, 101, 111 Saudi Arabia, 80 Saydam, Refik, 101 Scelle, Georges, 101 Second World War, 16, 19,

42, 65, 68, 83, 85, 90, 97, 102, 111, 119, 148

secularism, 39, 42, 46–7, 50–1, 70, 99; secular, 23–4, 36, 60, 79, 112, 160, 163, 185

Selim, Yavuz, 88 Seljuk, 88 Serbia, 30; Serbs, 30, 73 Servas, Plutis, 116 Sèvres, Treaty of, 61 Seychelles, 124 Sezer, Ahmet Necdet, 80 Shaposhnikov, Marshall, 173 Sheikh Said rebellion, 90, 182 Shusha, 172


240

Simitis, Costas, 140 Sivas, 44 Six Day War, 6 Slavs, 31 Smith, Anthony, 26–8, 37–8 Snyder, Jack, 146 Snyder, Louis, 31 Sökmen, Tayfur, 90, 93–5,

100 Somalia, 72 Soviet Union, 3, 7, 12, 16–17,

37, 42, 45, 56, 59, 61, 66–9, 71, 74–5, 85, 100, 116, 126, 129, 135, 142, 147, 150, 153–4, 156–7, 159–61, 165, 169, 171, 184; Soviet, 43, 131, 155, 162, 164, 166–7, 170–1, 176

Stalin, Joseph, 168, 170 state identity, 19, 24, 26, 34,

36, 51, 55, 82, 84; see also identity

statism, 22 Stepanakert (Hankendi), 172 Storrs, Ronald, 109 Strategic Partnership

Declaration, 179 structural realism, 17 Suleymaniye, 44 Sun Language Theory, 45 Sunni, 51, 97–100 Suwaydiya, 88 Sweden, 175 Switzerland, 140 Syria, 11, 30, 40, 59, 73, 79,

83, 88–95, 97–8, 101–2, 156, 164; Syrians, 82, 90–1, 96, 99, 102

Tabriz, 166, 169

Tajikistan, 153, 156 taksim, 113, 119, 126 Talat, Mehmet Ali, 150 Talish, 167, 178 Tambini, Damian, 27 Tamerlane, 31 Tanri Mountains, 51 Tanrıöver, Hamdullah Suphi,

49, 112 Tanrısevdi, Kemal, 123 Tanzimat, 63, 88 Tashkent, 71 Tat, 167 Tatars, 143, 155–6, 166–7 Tatarstan, 157 Tatlısı (Mari), 133 Taurus Mountains, 91, 102 Tbilisi, 40 Tehran, 65 Temporary International

Presence in the City of Hebron (TIPH), 73

Tengirşenk, Yusuf Kemal, 92 Ter-Petrossian, Levon, 176 territorial nationalism, 24, 44,

185 Thessaly, 138 Third World, 70, 147 Thrace, 138, 165 Torumtay, Necip, 188 Trans-Caspian pipeline, 161 Treaty of Alliance, 125, 130 Treaty of Establishment, 125,

130 Treaty of Friendship, 64, 138 Treaty of Guarantee, 125,

130, 180 Trikopis, General, 41 Trodos mountains, 123, 128 True Path Party, 39, 50, 182

INDEX

241

Türkeş, Alparslan, 37, 49, 51, 72, 142–3, 154, 160, 173

Türkkan, Reha Oğuz, 38, 48–9

Türkmen, Abdulgani, 100 Türkmen, Ilter, 145 Tuğ, Salih, 50 Tunceli, see Dersim Turkestan, 31, 65, 153, 155,

158 Turkey, 2–5, 7–10, 12–13, 23,

25, 27, 30–1, 33–49, 51–3, 55–62, 64–6, 68–87, 89–122, 124–51, 153–5, 157–70, 172–91

Turkish Cooperation and Development Agency (TIKA), 160, 162

Turkish Cypriots, 3, 9–10, 30, 70, 103, 105, 107–8, 110–13, 115–18, 120, 123–5, 127–8, 130–1, 136–7, 141–2, 144, 148, 150–1, 163, 188

Turkish Grand National Assembly (TGNA), 42–3, 77, 80–1, 92, 134

Turkish identity, 23; see also identity

Turkish Industrialists and Businessmen’s Association (TÜSİAD), 76, 79

Turkish Islamic ideal, 50–1 Turkish Radio and Television

(TRT), 162 Turkish Republic of

Northern Cyprus (TRNC), 2, 70, 132, 159

Turkish Resistance Organization (TMT), 123–4, 131

Turkish War of Liberation, 40, 92

Turkish-Islamic synthesis, 35, 50, 53, 115

Turkmen, 34, 61, 84, 104, 143, 151, 156, 161

Turkmenchai, Treaty of, 166 Turkmenistan, 2, 8, 60, 153,

156, 160, 175 Ufa, 156 Uighurs, 87 Ukraine, 72 Union of Soviet Socialist

Republics (USSR), 31, 56, 68, 107, 126, 142, 153, 156–9, 166–7, 171, 180, 183

United Kingdom, 60, 66, 80, 83, 90, 119, 125, 130, 135–6, 138

United Nations (UN), 5, 61, 68–9, 72, 83, 102, 119, 121–2, 131, 135, 137, 140, 177

United Nations Observer Mission in Georgia (UNOMIG), 72

United States, 3, 5, 10–11, 25, 56, 60–1, 66, 69, 71, 75, 83–4, 85, 87, 107, 117, 126, 130–1, 135, 137, 142, 145, 147, 153, 155, 159, 161, 165–6, 174–7, 183, 185, 189

Urfa, 40 U-Thant, 131


242

Uzbek, 155, 158 Uzbekistan, 2, 8, 153, 156–7,

160, 175; Uzbeks, 31, 156, 158

Vance, Cyrus, 134 Vefik Paşa, Ahmed, 63 Venetians, 109 Venizelos, Eleftherios, 64,

107, 121, 138–40 Versailles, 30, 45 Vienna, 63, 136 Vietnamese, 126 Vuruşkan, Rıza, 124 Waltz, Kenneth, 22 War of Independence, 40,

162 War of Liberation, 61, 66, 77 Washington, 71 Watergate, 13, 56, 85, 131,

142 Welfare Party, 79 Wendt, Alexander, 18, 21 Western Thrace, 9, 12, 44, 49,

52, 64, 103, 136, 138–9, 143, 149, 161–2, 165–6, 184–5, 187

Winster constitution, 118 Wolfowitz, Paul, 80 Xinjian, 87, 155 Xsanti Turkish Union, 165 Yack, Bernard, 30 Yakut (Saha), 156 Yalçın, Süleyman, 50 Yalçıntaş, Nevzat, 50 Yalta, 179 Yavuz, Kemal, 189 Yemen, 164 Yerevan, 169 Yesevi, Hoca Ahmet, 50 Yılmaz, Mesut, 140, 179 Yorgacis, Polycarpos, 128,

132 Yugoslavia, 64, 73, 100, 163,

183 Zangelan, 177 Zenica, 73 Zionism, 20 Zorlu, Fatin Rüştü, 108, 121,

124, 141, 144 Zurich, 124–8, 133, 139, 148,

151