We are living in a time when we have moved beyond the threshold of debating the reasons, the mechanics, or the endless list of “what-ifs” behind the annulment of a university diploma earned more than thirty years ago by the very institution that once held a contrary opinion. I hold that it is more pertinent to concentrate on the potential consequences of the diploma’s annulment and on how Türkiye’s position in a world order that has begun to crack is mirrored in the balance of power between government and opposition.
Since 2019, my firm prediction has been that Ekrem İmamoğlu will remain a long-lived and influential actor in Turkish politics. Neither the annulment itself nor the ensuing administrative judicial process—nor any further sanctions that might follow—will alter this conviction. Such artificial interventions can wield only a limited influence, capable of shifting not what is destined to happen but merely its timing. In the medium and long term, the adverse impact on the party that intervenes will outweigh the short-term harm inflicted on the party that is intervened against.
The university’s “sheepish” annulment notice is of little importance. What matters is the stance the two key figures would take after the decision. The first of those figures, İmamoğlu, gave the reaction everyone expected. Speaking at an iftar table in Kastamonu, he declared, “I entrust myself to the nation. If I used to work a thousand times before, now I will work a million.” It was a prompt and well-judged political challenge. Contrary to many expectations, the second figure, Mansur Yavaş, also moved quickly and decisively, dispersing the cloud of “oppositional doubt” that had long been cultivated around him. Stating that he would stand beside Mr Ekrem every minute of the legal and political process, Yavaş said, “Until this unlawfulness is lifted, I am suspending my decision to consider a presidential candidacy.” Mr Mansur’s decision to stand with Mr Ekrem is crucial for winning broad public support during the administrative-court phase. But there is more—indeed, to use a popular Turkish saying, “the biggest radishes are in the opposition’s bag this time”. If, after the diploma verdict, Mr Mansur takes his move of “suspending the candidacy assessment” a step further and boycotts an election under these conditions, the legitimacy of any general election that Yavaş refuses to contest would become openly debatable. Because the government would then face a crisis of social legitimacy, it might retreat from its decision to block İmamoğlu. Another game-changing move would be Mr Ekrem raising Yavaş’s hand and publicly releasing a scheduled roadmap for a transition to a planned parliamentary system. In that scenario, Mr Ekrem would assume the leadership of the CHP and, after a possible change of administration, conduct the transition from an influential post within the state’s executive machinery as the head of the new ruling party.
For Türkiye’s opposition, it is vital that the İmamoğlu–Yavaş line remain unbroken; for the government, it is vital that this unity be shattered. As the process moves forward, I will keep returning to this point. Yet the main focus of this section is different. I shall concentrate not on what has happened, but on what has not happened.
Public-opinion surveys show that the great majority of society disapproves of any attempt to “touch” İmamoğlu through the courts. Expanding the range of pretexts the government cites does not alter this verdict. Those pretexts keep multiplying—creatively—from the “fool” case to terrorism, from corruption to the diploma, and thence to the CHP congress. İmamoğlu’s performance under intense stress is being tested. One cannot say his personal political performance is poor, yet it is clear that his choice of step-by-step timing has widened the government’s room for manoeuvre—such as spreading a single-candidate primary over time when fresh blows were imminent. In truth, a single-candidate primary that Mr Mansur did not enter would have differed little from the party group’s simply naming a candidate. Moreover, because the formal “candidacy shield” would have been raised much earlier, the government would have had far less time to concentrate its moves during the primary period. We can say that İmamoğlu—whose nature and style favour what is practical and swift—has been driven to these and similar ill-judged choices by a concern, contrary to common belief, to accommodate intra-party balances he does not fully command. All such costly delays, alien to his character, reflect another important deficiency—one of the rare political qualities Erdoğan possesses but İmamoğlu does not. It is not exactly a skill; rather, it is a buttress, an early-acquired resilience: ideology. I note this, of course, independent of any subjective judgment about its magnitude. I frame the concept chiefly through a more functional pragmatism—as a fortified redoubt against assault, or as an inner energy that lifts one back to one’s feet after a fall.
It may be asked: did Özal and Demirel possess such a foundation? Özal’s cotton-wrapped rise to power in 1983 was an exceptionally fortunate moment for him, one that required no underpinning; everyone also knows how hard he later worked to keep political bans in place in order to preserve that “fortune.” Yet in some of his later clashes—especially with the military—he clearly adopted a retaliatory ideological posture against certain core qualities of the Republic, even if that stance did not match his lifestyle. Demirel, for his part, though often accused by opponents of lacking ideology, was in fact a development-focused but intellectually solid republican and Kemalist; his awareness of what Atatürk tried to do and why was quite pronounced. In truth, the late Demirel’s ideological ground—namely the Republic and Atatürk—could also serve as a fertile support for İmamoğlu, and I think he is indeed attached to these concepts. Yet in my view he lacks the minimum depth needed for that attachment to become a true anchor or bulwark. Consider the trench metaphor: either you position yourself behind a buildup—a wall, a mound, an object—that shields you from attack, or you dig down and protect yourself below the surface. One might say again: İmamoğlu constantly references the Republic and Atatürk, and that is true; I am not suggesting any problem with his attachment, but pointing to a shortfall in his comprehension and sound knowledge of them. The adjective-and-adverb inflation in his unscripted speeches shows this plainly—his lavish use of qualifiers such as “valuable,” “very beautiful,” “wonderful.” In my view, spending a few months reading, listening, and thinking about the Republic and Atatürk would strengthen and toughen him far more than merely obtaining the title of presidential candidate. To be clearer: İmamoğlu knows the Republic is something great and vital, but he lacks the body of knowledge he needs about what it actually is; he respects and admires Atatürk and knows he achieved great deeds, but he lacks the body of knowledge he needs about what Atatürk did, why, and how. This leaves him—despite being highly determined, hardworking, and popular—bereft of self-defence in moments when circumstances weaken his position. He has professionals, institutions, even a party that rivals can easily target, but he does not yet sufficiently possess the unassailable support—the inner intellectual motivation that provides energy in hard times without external help—that no rival can touch. Can he gain it from now on? Perhaps, partially, through the consistent use of the right methods.
We are also confronted with the collapse of the old world—its creaking now heard ever more clearly from all of Europe, the northern steppes, and of course the Middle East—and with signs that a new world may be in the making. If Trump completes a second term and can pass the presidency to his vice-president or someone similar, we may well face a global landscape carved up by agreement along a United States–Russia–China axis. Europe, which placed its entire post-Second-World-War security architecture under America’s roof, is gripped by anxiety; it has new needs and must find new suppliers to meet them. The effects on Türkiye are already becoming visible: the Erdoğan praise decorated with the same lavish compliments Trump once showered on Jordan’s king, the warm invitations coming from the European Union after a long silence, and so on. Worried about Russian expansionism and now the additional prospect of Trumpian expansionism, Europeans are assigning the Turks a role they have known since ancient times in their new defence architecture: soldiering. It is the same security capability with which we block not the entry of illegal migrants into the country but their exit toward Europe, the same military skill we once exported in medieval Mesopotamia and Byzantium. This time, high-rating TV series and “news” channels have laid the groundwork for propaganda that says: “we are vast, beyond measure; if Europe must rely on Türkiye to protect its women and children, then …,” a line that works on broad audiences. Not that it cares about pro-government backing, but the liberal left, which gazes lovingly at Europe, will start cheering in the hope that “perhaps this will yield a breathing space.”
Formun Üstü
The world’s political and military conjuncture has been more favorable to the President than at any time since 2002. This means we may be at the outset of yet another period crowded with fresh disappointments for those who, at every authoritarian step that has narrowed the sphere of freedom over the past decade, have turned their faces toward the West in desperation. Yet, truth be told, I have never seen these additional disappointments—or their age-old habit of casting “the West” as a bogeyman—bring any benefit to Türkiye.
What the Turkish opposition needs—indeed most urgently needs—is to internalize the stark reality, stated in the Amasya Circular, that “the resolve and decision of the nation itself will save the nation,” and to acknowledge no other route or source of power. I do not wish the example of Amasya 1919 to be taken as an implicit call to demonize the government, for in my view the determination and decision of the nation that brought Erdoğan to power in 2002 and kept him there again in 2023 is the very same determination and decision that were required in 1919. Put differently, the task is to become the person to whom the nation will devote its resolve and decision—without expecting any favor or support from West or East, relying only on one’s own people. The international respect that follows from this method has been demonstrated many times.
In short, Türkiye must raise democracy—and therefore freedom—to the highest standards not for foreign investors, EU norms, or easier credit, but because Turks themselves deserve democracy and freedom. Countries and alliances that assign Türkiye the role of migrant gatekeeper or of “hired” soldier do not carry the slightest concern for Turkish lives or their quality of life; one should not take seriously even those who take such thinking seriously.
