Tag: Democracy

  • Ergenekon: A dark chapter in Turkish history

    Ergenekon: A dark chapter in Turkish history

    Ferruh Demirmen

    The Ergenekon verdicts in Turkey announced on August 5 shook the Turkish judicial system and left an indelible mark on the conscience of Turkish people. The confidence that most Turks had in their judicial system received a major blow. Jail sentences were showered on all but 21 of the 275 defendants, including nearly two dozen journalists.

    The case started 5 years ago, but arrests and detentions started 6 years ago.

    The hearing was held in prison compound in Silivri, 70 km from Istanbul, in an atmosphere of martial law, at arms distance from police barriers, water cannons and gas bombs, and within an earshot of rubber bullets, with chanting, flag-waiving protestors taking shelter in scorched, burning fields, while countless busses trying to bring plain folk to the compound from across the country were stopped on track by government order. It was not a pretty picture. Not for a government that preaches democracy.

    Due process, including the right to speak before sentencing, and the right to have next-of-kin present at the trial, was denied to the defendants. Holding hearings in a prison compound also drew criticism.

    ALLEGED PLOT

    Officially, “Ergenekon” was the name of a clandestine terrorist organization that tried to overthrow the Turkish government. Politicians (three of them parliamentary deputies), journalists, academics, university presidents and retired and active-duty military officers, including 4-star generals, were members of an alleged terrorist organization.

    A terrorist establishment, as it turned out, that lacked a leader, an organizational chart, and a manifesto. A group, most members of which had not even known each other. No document bearing the name “Ergenekon” existed in the state archives, and no weapons had been found in possession of any of the terrorists. To implement their nefarious plans, we are led to believe, the terrorists relied on a cache of hand grenades found in a shanty house in 2007, and later in the garden (buried) of a deserted house in 2009. The hand grandees were destroyed soon after “discovery.”

    There were indications that the ammunition “discovered” had been planted, and doubts lingered in the press as to whether the ammunition found was live. Defendants denied the validity of incriminating evidence introduced during the trial, and in one case, the prosecution admitted that the incriminating message found in the mobile phone of a defendant had been “mistakenly recorded” by police. Many defendants, including the world-renown transplant surgeon Prof. Dr. Mehmet Haberal, said they did not know what they had done wrong.

    But these concerns did not stop the prosecution from filing a series of indictments running thousands of pages.

    It was extraordinary that a pro-Sharia convict, found guilty in a prior murder case (assassination of Council of State judge), and implicated in the bombing of the secular-oriented daily “Cumhuriyet,” was brought into the Ergenekon case as a suspect and tried together with defendants that were starkly opposite in ideology. The convict, whom the prosecutors affectionately called “Osmanım” (“My Osman’), turned a secret prosecution witness and was set free at the end of the trial. “It was a payoff,” observed the opponents.

    It was ironic that journalists İlhan Selçuk (now deceased) and Mustafa Balbay, columnists at “Cumhuriyet,” became co-defendants with criminals that had bombed their daily.

    Among the secret witnesses was Şemdin Sakık, at one time a high-ranking leader of the terrorist organization PKK.

    THE REALITY

    But in reality, the Ergenekon was a plot orchestrated to undermine the very foundation of a democratic, secular state by silencing the opponents of the current Islamic government. A desire to “settle the score” in connection with the 1997 “soft coup” against the Islamist Farewell Party – an event that forced Fethullah Gülen to flee to the U.S. – no doubt also played a role.

    One attribute that united the Ergenekon defendants was their conviction in a secular, democratic state driven by Kemalist reforms.

    It was very unusual that a sitting Prime Minister, ignoring the separation of the executive and judiciary powers, declared himself early in the trial to be the prosecutor of the case.

    A court case that attracted wide criticism in its breach of judiciary standards. Although the court has not yet issued the basis for its conclusions, legal experts familiar with the case have characterized the verdicts as absurd, arbitrary, inconsistent, and disproportionate.

    One journalist, Tuncay Özkan, receiving an aggravated life sentence, said after the verdicts that, although he was exonerated of charges of keeping weapons and ammunition in his house, was penalized because he – much to the dislike of the government – had organized the “Cumhuriyet meetings.”

    Balbay, receiving a 34-year and 8 months jail sentence, maintained all along that he was penalized for doing his job as a journalist. He denounced the treatment the defendants received on the day of sentencing, adding that even an occupying force would have acted in a more respectful manner. He was particularly resentful that “Osmanım” had been released.

    Another journalist/author, Ergün Poyraz, who has written books critical of the PM Erdoğan and Fethullah Gülen (e.g., Children of Moses, The Imam in America), and under detention since 2007, was sentenced to 29 years 6 months of aggravated jail sentence.

    Doğu Perinçek, the leader of the Workers’ Party (İP), receiving aggravated life term, said he does not recognize the verdict.

    Perhaps the defendant that attracted most attention was İlker Başbuğ, the former Chief of Staff of the military, who received life sentence. General Başbuğ was appointed to the top military post by the Prime Minister, and for two years served directly under the PM.

    As someone who commanded the second largest NATO army, the verdict against Başbuğ rattled the political establishment, and no doubt also the military. How to explain a terrorist commanding a 700,000 strong army, how his terrorist activities had gone unnoticed, and what all this means for NATO, were questions that naturally came to mind.

    Main opposition leader Kemal Kılıçdaroğlu said the verdicts were illegitimate, adding that those who had appointed Başbuğ to the top post should be tried on charges of supporting terrorism. The government spokesman Bülent Arınç, deputy PM, issued a warning to Kılıçdaroğlu.

    Başbuğ himself said the target in the Ergenekon case was the Turkish army. He was pointedly indignant that he was denied a right that was granted to Saddam Hussein: the right to speak before his sentence was announced. Four other retired 4-star generals received life term.

    As for the academics, Peter Diamond, a professor of economics at M.I.T. and a Nobel laureate, after having looked into the cases of eight academics, concluded that there appeared to be no credible evidence to convict his colleagues.

    Judge Köksal Şengün, who, for three years, presided over the 3-man panel of judges in “Ergenekon,” but later removed from the case, commented that he could not support the verdicts. With 187 hearings behind him, Şengün was well familiar with the evidence. Upon his removal from the case in 2011, Şengün disclosed that he was in favor of dismissing many charges, but was opposed by the two other judges.

    PUTTING IT IN CONTEXT

    With all of its implications, “Ergenekon” marks a dark chapter in Turkey’s history.

    Alluding to the draconian sentences handed out by the court, some observes drew analogy to the death sentence announced by the Istanbul government against Mustafa Kemal in May 1920.

    Turkey’s Syndicate of Judges, an independent organization, declared the Ergenekon convictions null and void because two reserve judges, with no voting rights, participated in the final deliberations preceding sentencing. Such participation violated the law, it was noted.

    There is a general feeling that the government intends to declare a general amnesty encompassing the Ergenekon victims and the PKK leader Abdullah Öcalan. That would open the door for the terrorist leader – now serving life term – to be released from prison.

    A scenario that, if materializes, would surely create a firestorm in Turkey.
    In the background to the Ergenekon imbroglio lies the near-unanimous 2008 decision of the Constitutional Court that found that the ruling party had become the focal point for anti-secularist movements. The ruling party at that time barely escaped closure. The make-up of the Constitutional Court has since changed.
    All this happening in a country where the government boasts of the freedom expression while children 16 years of age are dragged to court on charges of insulting the Prime Minister because they tore down a poster bearing the PM’s Bayram message.

    Istanbul-based British analyst Gareth Jenkins, who has reviewed the voluminous documents in the Ergenekon case, has concluded that there is no such organization as Ergenekon, and that the investigation bearing this name was carried out as a collaborative effort between RTE and Fethullah Gülen. He has stressed the role of the Gülen movement. Jenkins appears correct in his conclusions.

    But the story Jenkins tells is incomplete. To ascribe the “success” of the Ergenekon plot solely to RTE-Gülen cooperation is to overlook the limitations of such alliance. A meticulously planned plot, “Ergenekon” could not have been executed without outside help. The story of a third, “dark force,” that provided clandestine help in “Ergenekon,” also needs to be told.

  • Trouble in Turkey – By Jillian Kay Melchior – The Corner – National Review Online

    Trouble in Turkey – By Jillian Kay Melchior – The Corner – National Review Online

    The bad news continues out of Turkey, just days after a suicide bombing at the American Embassy in Ankara. Writing for Doublethink, my friend Elisha Maldonado notes some disturbing recent developments:

    Turkey’s latest offense involves an Istanbul court’s Jan. 21 decision ordering the pre-trial detention of nine human rights lawyers who have largely focused on human rights cases involving police violence, according to Human Rights Watch, or HRW. . . .

    But what is particularly laughable — if one can be permitted to find the absurd in people getting arrested for nothing and everything — is that in the same week the pre-trial detention of the human rights advocates came to light, so did Turkey’s plan to use human rights law to get back ancient relics housed in Western museums.

    Usually splintered on the very touchy subject on how to dole out the rights of humans, Turkey has found a united front among lawyers, civil society and government to file a lawsuit with the Strasbourg, France-based European Court of Human Rights, or ECHR, to get back their goods, Turkish journalist Ceylan Yeginsu reported for the International Business Times.

    “Turkey will most likely put a unique spin on Article 1 of the First Protocol of the European Convention of Human Rights, filing suit against the British Museum on the grounds that ‘every natural or legal person is entitled to the peaceful enjoyment of his possessions,’” Yeginsu said.

    So, basically, the Turkish government has a right to the peaceful enjoyment of possessions, but Turkish people do not have the right to personal freedoms. This “unique spin” gives the impression that Turkey values objects above its own people.

    Oft criticized for not appreciating enough the importance of these historical artifacts they now want back, Turkey claims to have learned how to appreciate and care for its cultural heritage. Too bad the same can’t really be said for its people, who perhaps are a greater testament of its culture. They are, after all, the ones creating the future’s relics.

    What happens in Turkey matters, and not only for the sake of Turkey’s citizens, either. Like Indonesia, Turkey has a large Muslim population and a thriving Islamic culture — yet it also lays claim to democracy. To the extent that it succeeds in preserving the political freedoms of its citizens, Turkey is an example to the Arab world. That makes recent news all the more disappointing.

    via Trouble in Turkey – By Jillian Kay Melchior – The Corner – National Review Online.

  • Democratic reform in Turkey: constitutional ‘moment’ or constitutional process?

    Democratic reform in Turkey: constitutional ‘moment’ or constitutional process?

    About the author

    Firat Cengiz is lecturer in law at the University of Liverpool. Her primary research interests are in Europeanisation and multi-level governance. She is the author of Antitrust Federalism in the EU and the US and the co-editor of Turkey and the European Union: Facing New Challenges and Opportunities (with Lars Hoffmann).

    Constitutions are highly entrenched laws that express the common identity of the nation. They require substantial public involvement. Yet in Turkey, the details of the reform process have not been fully disclosed, and it is being rushed through.

    Turkey’s Prime Minister Recep Tayyip Erdoğan considers 2012 a lost year for his country’s democratic reform process. In an interview he recently he gave to the state TV channel TRT, Erdoğan expressed frustration that the Turkish Parliament has not yet finished drafting the country’s new constitution.

    The current constitution of the Turkish Republic, the 1982 Constitution, came into force as a direct result of the 1980 military coup. Additionally, the Constitution is notoriously authoritarian in its substance. Thus, its reform has been on Turkey’s political agenda since the late 1990s. The EU has played a major reform facilitator role by demanding specific constitutional reforms as a part of Turkey’s accession framework to the EU. Primarily in response to EU’s demands, the Parliament has amended the Constitution hundred and three times so far. Nevertheless, an entirely new constitution drafted by civilians was still considered necessary for Turkey to fully recover from the stigma of the coup and the authoritarianism it injected to the country’s governance.

    In particular, the Prime Minister and his Justice and Development Party (AKP) built their campaign for the 2011 political elections almost entirely on the promise of a new constitution. The specific constitutional changes that the AKP wants to implement are yet to be revealed, apart from the party’s goal to replace the current parliamentary democracy with a semi-presidential regime.

    The governing party’s preference for the semi-presidential regime stems from an anomaly in Turkey’s parliamentary democracy: a publicly elected president who enjoys only symbolic powers. Originally, the Constitution had foreseen that the president should be elected by Parliament as is usual in parliamentary democracies. But Parliament amended the election procedure in 2007 after non-majoritarian institutions – the Constitutional Court and the military – meddled in the election of Abdullah Gül, the current president. The Prime Minister and his party want to see this anomaly corrected with constitutional amendments extending the publicly elected president’s executive powers. Ideally, this should be done before the 2014 presidential elections, presumably to allow the Prime Minister to run for the office. Hence, his disappointment with the slow progress in the drafting of the new constitution.

    Turkey’s ‘constitutional moment’

    Turkey’s current constitutional reform process represents a unique ‘constitutional moment’ in the Republic’s history in which civilian democratic institutions draft a constitution without military interference. Thus, the reform process has the potential of serving greater purposes than the political ambitions of the Prime Minister and his party. Most crucially, the reform process could contribute towards the bridging of gaps between Turkish society’s increasingly polarised clusters, including the Kurdish and Turkish nationalists, conservative Kemalists, political Islamists and religious and cultural minorities. A meaningful constitutional debate could reveal different clusters’ similar as well as different expectations from the country’s governance. This would contribute to the diminishing, if not the demise, of long-standing mutual prejudices.

    The constitutional reform process will also have profound effects on Turkey’s stance in Europe and the wider world: if successful, the reform process could reverse the European Commission’s increasingly sceptical evaluation of democracy in Turkey, thus, contributing towards a new high point in Turkey–EU relations. On the other hand, the Turkish government’s ambitions to lead the democratic reform processes in its region after the Arab Spring are well known. Setting an example for democratic constitution-making would provide the government with a legitimate claim for such leadership. The adoption process of Egypt’s new constitution demonstrates that the region is indeed in need of such a leader.

    Shortcomings of the on-going reform process

    Constitutions are highly entrenched laws that express ‘the common identity of the nation’. Thus, their adoption process requires substantial public involvement so that they would enjoy greater legitimacy than do regular pieces of legislation. In the Turkish case, the details of the reform process have not been fully discussed in public.

    After the 2011 political elections a conciliatory committee was formed between the four political parties represented in the Parliament to work on constitutional reform (source in Turkish). The committee decided upfront to draft an entirely new constitution rather than limiting itself to the substance of the 1982 Constitution. Initially, the commission’s decision was met with celebration and raised expectations for a new constitution improving democracy in the country’s governance.  However, the experiences during the committee’s first fifteen months of work raise doubts as to whether the reform process will live up to those expectations.

    The Turkish electoral system involves an unusually high 10 per cent national electoral threshold that prevents optimal representation of different societal clusters. This reduces the reform process’ legitimacy, since the Parliament represents the public only partially. Before the 2011 elections, opposition parties as well as constitutional law scholars suggested reforms to be adopted to reduce the national election hurdle. The AKP, nevertheless, rejected those suggestions relying on the argument of stability in governance.

    The Turkish criminal regime imposes various limitations on the freedoms of thought, speech and assembly. This prevents emergence of a liberal discourse where the public can discuss the country’s more contentious problems – such as the Kurdish issue, secularism, religious rights and minority and cultural rights – without the fear of being subject to criminal investigations. In order to encourage submission of opinions by civil society, organisations and individuals, the conciliatory committee does not disclose the opinions it received to the public. This secrecy not only prevents a substantial constitutional debate but it also stands as proof for the gravity of limitations on fundamental rights and freedoms.

    The government deals with some constitutional matters as matters of daily politics without the involvement of the Parliament or the conciliatory committee. The government have recently re-launched peace talks with the Kurdish PKK. Any effort for the resolution of the country’s long-standing Kurdish issue deserves celebration. Nevertheless, the Kurdish issue does not only have a terror dimension, but it is inextricably linked to the poor accommodation of the Kurds’ as well as other minorities’ linguistic and cultural rights. Thus, it is difficult to envisage a stable solution to the Kurdish issue without a meaningful debate on the constitutional accommodation of minority and cultural rights in general.

    Finally, an increasingly hostile political environment has overshadowed the reform process. Divergences between different political parties have become increasingly prevalent after the emergence of a parliamentary crisis involving imprisoned politicians shortly after the 2011 elections. Not only have terror and violence in the southeast as well as hate crimes in general shown an upward swing, but even the country’s scientific community seems dangerously politically polarised: after the brutal police suppression of wide-spread student protests of Erdoğan’s visit to the Middle East Technical University (METU) in Ankara, Turkish universities published opinions split between METU and its students and Erdoğan and, implicitly, the police forces.

    The strict deadline imposed on the reform process by Erdoğan and the AKP exacerbates the hostilities. In the shadow of the deadline, a meaningful debate on the country’s long-standing problems with the potential of achieving consensus seems highly unrealistic. Different political groups see the reform of process as a now or never opportunity to push their individual agendas or to prevent the adoption of reforms they object. As a result, individual divergences rather than issues and alternative solutions to them dominate the constitutional reform debates.

    The future of constitutional reform: the need for a ‘constitutional process’

    Turkey’s on-going constitutional reform process is unique in the history of the Turkish Republic. For the first time civilian institutions alone are drafting the country’s constitution.

    The reform process ought to serve greater purposes than the government AKP’s goal of establishing a semi-presidential regime before the 2014 presidential elections. Most crucially, the reform process could serve as a platform for an extensive public debate on the country’s long-standing and contentious problems.

    Alas, the initial experiences imply that Turkey might be missing this historic opportunity. In addition to various factors that prevent the emergence of a constitutional debate, the impossible deadline imposed on the process exacerbates the already dangerous polarisation in Turkish society. Experiences of constitution-making in polarised societies, such as Israel, India, Ireland and South Africa, show that is vital to keep the reform process open-ended in order to design a democratic constitution filtered through all inclusive debates on the specific issues facing the society. South Africa’s search for a non-discriminatory constitution took eight years of phased negotiations during which the country was governed with an interim constitution. Notwithstanding Erdoğan’s disappointment, drafting a contemporary democratic constitution in fifteen months would be unprecedented.

    The AKP’s insistence on the semi-presidential regime also implies that Turkey might be replacing one authoritarian constitution with another one: establishing stronger executives is the common feature of authoritarian constitutions. This is all the more worrisome, as it is not difficult to imagine that once the new constitution is adopted Erdoğan and the AKP will strongly oppose any further proposals for its amendment arguing that it is the first constitution in the Turkish Republic’s history adopted by civilians alone; thus, it should stay as it is.

    In light of all this, the Prime Minister his party and other political groups need to stop treating the reform process as a now or never opportunity, a single ‘moment’ to push their own political agendas. They need to start attaching the salience to the reform process that it deserves.

    Limitations on the freedoms of thought, expression and assembly should be lifted to engender a public debate on the country’s governance; and no strict deadline should be imposed on this debate. The Turkish political establishment owes this to the entire nation as well as future generations, whose identity will be defined by the new constitution.

  • Ten Things to Know About Voting Technology

    Ten Things to Know About Voting Technology

    1. Voting is not like any other transaction.

    The first remark I usually hear on the subject of Internet voting is, “I
    can shop online, I can bank online, why can’t I vote online?” The answer
    is that voting is not like those transactions. Credit card companies and
    banks tolerate a degree of fraud in all of their transactions. We could
    not similarly accept some degree of fraud in the voting process. And,
    when you make a deposit to your checking account over the Internet, your
    bank sends you back a message confirming the transaction and the amount
    of your deposit. But if we are to preserve our right to cast a secret
    ballot, then we would not want to vote online and have our election
    agencies send back to us a note confirming our choices.

    Casting a secret ballot in a fair and democratic election is, in fact,
    unlike any other kind of transaction. Think about it: each person only
    gets to vote once, in a limited time frame, and every voter must be
    authenticated while at the same time preserving that voter’s right to
    cast a secret ballot. Voters must be confident that their votes have
    been accurately recorded and the voting system must create an audit
    trail in case a recount is needed that also preserves the secret ballot.
    It is not impossible to build an online voting system, but it’s
    important to realize that to do so creates unique challenges because
    voting is unlike any other transaction.

    2. There are two kinds of Internet voting: polling place Internet
    voting, and remote Internet voting.

    It’s important to distinguish between polling place Internet voting and
    remote Internet voting, which is voting from home or work. Both remote
    and polling place Internet voting use computers in the voting process
    and both use the Internet to transfer ballots to the central counting
    center. The important difference between the two methods is ownership of
    the computer that’s acting as a voting machine. With polling place
    Internet voting, the voting machine is owned and controlled by election
    officials. With remote Internet voting, the voting machine is owned and
    controlled by either the voter or their employer.

    In our January 2000 report, the California Internet Voting Task Force
    made this important distinction between polling place and remote
    Internet voting, and concluded that while polling place Internet voting
    can and should be explored, remote Internet voting could greatly expose
    the voting process to fraud. For this reason we made no prediction of
    when, if ever, remote Internet voting would be possible.

    3. Remote Internet voting is highly susceptible to voter fraud.

    A voting machine owned and maintained by a county election office can be
    controlled, but a third party machine, owned by the voter or their
    employer, is highly susceptible to attack. For example, a remote
    Internet voter could unknowingly download a “Trojan Horse” or virus that
    sits on the voter’s computer. When the voter opens his Internet ballot
    on his computer desktop, at that point the ballot is no longer encrypted
    and would therefore be susceptible to manipulation by a virus or
    malicious code. A Trojan horse could then, for example, rearrange the
    appearance of the voting boxes on the ballot, leading you to believe,
    for example, that you voted for the incumbent but actually returning
    your ballot with a vote for the challenger. You would then send your
    ballot back encrypted to your election agency, and since we cast a
    secret ballot neither you nor your election agency would know that your
    vote had not been properly recorded.

    If you think this scenario is far-fetched, consider this: already some
    Internet users have unknowingly downloaded programs known as “spyware”
    that keep track of their computer usage and page visits without their
    knowing it and report this information via the the user’s Internet
    connection to commercial and marketing interests. Already the vast
    majority of Internet users visit web sites that set “cookies” in their
    web browsers used to track their online movements. Few even know what a
    cookie is, let alone know how to remove one or how to set their browser
    preferences to refuse them altogether.

    Consider also the fact that remote Internet voting will give rise to a
    whole new wave of voter fraud attacks from people living in foreign
    countries as well as those who previously had no interest in elections
    but enjoy a good hacking challenge. The Pentagon detected more than
    22,000 attempts to probe, scan, hack into, infect with viruses or
    disable its computers in 1999 alone, and anticipates the number of
    attacks will only increase with time. And let’s not be naive about our
    country’s record on voter fraud. Though voter fraud is not as much of a
    problem here as it has been in other countries, history shows that in
    close races some campaigns do resort to cheating in order to win.
    Automating the voting process gives one person the ability to make a
    much greater impact when they attempt to cheat.

    When you consider the likely increase in attempts at voter fraud,
    combined with the low level of computer literacy we have now, both among
    users and the election community, it is unrealistic to think we are
    ready for remote Internet voting anytime soon.

    4. Remote Internet voting may erode our right to cast a secret ballot
    and lead to political coercion in the workplace.

    Currently we cast our ballots in a private polling booth, and in some
    counties voters place their ballots inside an envelope so that poll
    workers and other voters won’t catch a glimpse of their votes before
    they drop their ballot into the ballot box. Polling place Internet
    voting can preserve the secret ballot and the sanctity and privacy of
    the polling place. Remote Internet voting, on the other hand, can lead
    to voting from work, which is where most of us connect to the Internet
    during the day. And for many of us, our workplace computers are far from
    private.

    If we were to vote from work, our coworkers or supervisors might
    casually or deliberately watch us as we make our choices. Even if they
    aren’t standing over your shoulder, the company intranet could easily
    retain a copy of your ballot. These are not insurmountable obstacles,
    but it does mean that if we allow for voting in the workplace, we’ll
    need new policies to protect employees from potential political coercion
    in the workplace. New policies would need to be developed to protect the
    right to cast a secret ballot in the workplace on your employer’s
    computer, and such policies would contradict with existing laws that
    assert an employer’s right to review any material their employees create
    on a company computer, including personal email. Simply put, voting in
    the workplace could be a nightmare for employers and employees alike,
    and if we were to move forward with remote Internet voting in the future
    we’d be wise to prohibit voting in the workplace altogether.

    5. Remote Internet voting poses a threat to personal privacy.

    How would we authenticate remote Internet voters? Authenticating voters
    is one of the primary steps we take to protect our elections from fraud.
    We have to make sure that people are eligible to vote, vote only once,
    and cast their own ballots. Using a pin number in combination with other
    pieces of personally identifiable information, as the Arizona Democratic
    Party did in its March 2000 Primary, is not sufficient to protect our
    elections from vote selling, vote swapping, and voter fraud. Digital
    signatures may be an option, and we have a long way to go before that
    technology is widely understood and accepted by the public, and digital
    signatures still cannot protect Internet voters’ ballots from a Trojan
    horse attack.

    The most secure way to authenticate voters is to use biometric scanning
    procedures, such as retinal or finger-printing scans. I, like many
    Americans, find such security measures invasive, and believe it would be
    unwise to sanction government agencies to begin collecting sensitive
    biometric data on American citizens. There is a general rule I follow:
    for every degree of convenience we gain through technology there is
    usually a corresponding loss of privacy. Remote Internet voting would
    make voting more convenient, but that convenience will come at a price
    that, in my opinion, is too high.

    6. There is a huge politics and technology information gap.

    In my seven years of working in politics and technology, I have found
    there are unfortunately too few people who have a working knowledge of
    both fields. This huge gap between politics and technology appears to be
    widening, not closing over time, and is becoming increasingly evident
    around the issue of Internet voting. Many of the political experts who
    talk about Internet voting don’t appreciate the technological dangers of
    voting online. Then there’s the technologically-savvy but politically
    naive people who say, “Wouldn’t it be great if we could vote on
    everything?”, failing to understand either the benefits of
    representative democracy or the complexities of the voting process. If
    we are going to close the politics and technology gap, we are all going
    to have to make a great effort to educate the experts and bring people
    from diverse fields together online and offline through conferences and
    public meetings. It’s going to take a lot of work, but if we address the
    politics and technology information gap it will make for better public
    policy in every area impacted by technology.

    7. There is a generational technology gap.

    Older people are not as familiar with new technology as younger people
    are, and surveys show that younger voters are sometimes intimidated by
    existing voting technology. The generational technology gap turns up in
    many places. The Democracy Online Project’s post-2000 general election
    survey found that the younger the voter, the more likely they used the
    Internet to access election information.

    Internet voting polls also find that younger voters find the idea of
    Internet voting much more appealing than older voters do. For example, a
    poll conducted by ABC News in 1999 found that only 19 percent of
    Americans age 65 and over would support Internet voting even if it could
    be made secure from fraud. Similarly, a year ago the Public Policy
    Institute of California surveyed Californians and found that public
    support for Internet voting is highest among 18-34 year olds (59
    percent) and lowest among those 55 and over (27 percent). There is no
    doubt that new technology provides an unprecedented opportunity to
    engage alienated young people in the democratic process, but we must be
    careful that we don’t alienate older voters along the way.

    8. Changing technology alone isn’t enough; voter education is also
    needed.

    It made me angry to hear people ridicule Florida’s voters for casting
    their votes incorrectly. As an experienced voter educator, it no longer
    surprises me to hear about the elements in our voting process that
    voters find confusing. There is an intolerable lack of reliable,
    nonpartisan voting information available for U.S. voters; most of what
    passes for election information comes in the form of campaign mailers
    and thirty second spots designed to confuse, manipulate or scare voters
    and do just about anything but inform them.

    We take so much for granted when it comes to voter education, and it is
    shameful that the United States poses as a model democracy for other
    countries to emulate when we make virtually no effort to educate our own
    voters and prepare them to vote on Election Day. We can begin to address
    this problem by appropriating federal and state funds to nonpartisan
    voter education efforts. We already spend $31 million a year on the
    National Endowment for Democracy to advance democracy abroad; we can
    certainly afford to spend at least the same amount to advance democracy
    at home.

    9. Transparency in the voting process fosters voter confidence and
    security.

    Whatever changes we make to our voting technology, we must not sacrifice
    the trust that is gained by having a transparent vote casting and
    counting process. The old voting technology that we are talking about
    replacing, in particular the punch card ballot, functions in a way that
    is transparent to the voter. You mark or punch your ballot, you drop it
    into a locked box, and the box is transported to the central counting
    center by pollworkers where the public can (and often does) watch the
    counting of ballots.

    Now, as we consider introducing computers into the voting process, we
    must look at how transparency may be affected. Whether we are talking
    about Internet voting or any kind of computerized voting, one inevitable
    result is that very few people, and certainly not your typical voter,
    have the expertise to review the software used for a computerized system
    and know that it is functioning properly. Consequently, it will require
    much more faith on the part of the voter in both the voting technology
    and their election officials to trust that a computerized system
    accurately records and counts their votes. And faith, unfortunately, is
    something that’s in short supply right now in our democracy, so we must
    be careful that we don’t erode it any further when we upgrade our voting
    technology.

    10. Software used in the voting process should be open to public
    inspection.

    One way to build public confidence in computerized voting is to require
    voting software code be made public. Election officials often cringe at
    this suggestion for two reasons: they think that making voting
    technology source code public will undermine the security of the voting
    process; and they expect that voting technology companies will object to
    revealing their source code because it undermines their competitiveness
    in the marketplace. In fact, many of the leading voting technology
    companies are not necessarily opposed to public source software, and
    some have already indicated they will comply with a public source code
    requirement if it’s imposed on everyone.

    The first concern — the public source undermines the security of the
    voting process — reflects the misguided “security through obscurity”
    approach to software, which is the idea that keeping your source code
    secret makes your technology more secure. In fact, there is consensus in
    the security industry that public source code leads to more secure
    computer systems than closed source.

    In fact, the Pentagon, our number one military agency, recently decided
    to no longer purchase closed source, commercial software programs from
    companies such as Microsoft, Netscape and Lotus to use in its most
    sensitive systems. The reason given by a Pentagon official, speaking
    anonymously to the Washington Post, is because they found that these
    closed source programs had too many holes, backdoors and trapdoors that
    place the department in greater danger of a computer attack than using
    public and open source software would.

    No software program is perfect, and any voting software program will
    inevitably have holes and some problems. If the source code is closed,
    those who want to manipulate the outcome of an election will eventually
    find and exploit those holes. If the source code is open and public,
    then the good guys in the security industry can find the holes first and
    help fix the software.

    One high-profile example of this shift toward public source for
    high-security operations is the National Security Agency’s initiative to
    develop “Security Enhanced Linux”. This is a new, security-enhanced
    operating system that was just released this month. It’s based on Linux,
    a very successful open source operating system, and anyone in the world
    can go online to www.nsa.gov/selinux/ and download its source code. If
    the agency entrusted with protecting our national security finds public
    source code more secure than closed source code, it should be a clear
    signal that the election community would be wise to follow suit.

    Of course, we can’t assume the good guys are going to forever be
    reviewing voting software code, so it’s crucial that a continuous
    recertification process is also established. Computerized voting
    machines, unlike punch cards, are based on dynamic, not static
    technology. We must anticipate that any computerized system will need to
    have security holes fixed, upgrades made, and new computer and Internet
    protocols supported. Even if we have public source voting software, we
    will still have a limited number of experts capable of evaluating its
    reliability. And what some security experts are saying is that it will
    be difficult, if not impossible to know for certain if the software
    that’s been certified and is publicly available is the same software
    that’s running on your voting machine. It’s worth noting that some of
    the strongest objections to computerized voting are made by computer
    security experts. For this reason, and also to foster voter confidence
    in new voting technology, it would be wise to consider a way to use a
    mix of paper ballots and computers in the voting process, and to require
    that paper ballots be counted along with digital ballots so that we
    could create a paper audit trail and thwart attempts to rig voting
    software.

    III. Conclusion

    New voting technology has many advantages, but it also brings new
    challenges to the voting process. And not all current voting technology
    is inadequate. Many voters in the U.S. cast ballots using optical scan
    systems, which are affordable, accurate, have a paper audit trail that
    can provide for a recount, and some of which feature a ballot scanner at
    the polling place that helps voters avoid overvoting or spoiling their
    ballots. Whatever we do to upgrade voting technology, we must ensure
    that all voters have an equal chance of having their votes counted.

    We need to close the politics and technology gap and continue to bring
    experts from different fields together to share information and learn
    from each other. We need our elected representatives to demonstrate
    patience, good judgment and leadership, and we need the media and public
    to pay close attention to voting technology policy as it develops. And
    we need to get serious about voter education in this country and spend
    the public resources needed to prepare people to vote on Election Day.

    It is remarkable that the first Presidential election of the new
    millennium came down to the question of whether we have more faith in
    people or machines to accurately and fairly count votes. The U.S.
    Supreme Court decided the answer was machines. This ruling sets a
    dangerous precedent. Technology can do a lot for us, but it cannot and
    should not trump human judgment.

    I raise concerns about Internet voting not because I am pessimistic; on
    the contrary, I am very optimistic about the opportunities before us to
    advance and transform democracy using computers and the Internet. I am
    critical of voting technology not because I am opposed to it, but
    because I cherish democracy and think computerized voting is both one of
    the most exciting and potentially dangerous ideas of our time.

    – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

    The California Voter Foundation is an independent, non-profit
    organization advancing new technologies to improve democracy and
    providing non-partisan voter information on the Internet at
    www.calvoter.org. CVF-NEWS is the California Voter Foundation’s free,
    electronic newsletter featuring news and updates about politics and the
    Internet, emphasizing activities taking place in California.

  • NGO Letter to Obama: Concern over Turkey’s Actions

    NGO Letter to Obama: Concern over Turkey’s Actions

    In a letter released today to President Obama, Foreign Policy Initiative, the Project on Middle East Democracy, Freedom House, and Reporters Without Borders expressed their concern over apparent stalled progress and regression in “crucial areas.” The letter draws attention to the deteriorating situation for journalists and members of the press in Turkey, as well as concerns over Kurdish rights, freedom of expression, and the position of women in the government and labor force.

    “Hundreds of military officers, as well as various scholars and journalists, have been arrested and charged through trials dogged by allegations of fabricated evidence used by the prosecution,” the letter says. “Turkey, once a leader in the region on the role of women in society, has alarmingly few women in high level government positions and professions, and has seen a steady decline in women’s participation in the labor force,” it adds.

    The organizations urge President Obama “to express publicly and privately America’s concerns about Turkey’s backsliding, and to direct diplomatic efforts toward ensuring that Turkey resumes a course designed to consolidate democracy and the rule of law.” Given the tenuous situation in the region due primarily to events in Syria, the U.S.-Turkey relationship “needs to be based on our shared values, not just shared strategic interests,” and “rule of law and political freedoms [must be] a priority in your engagements with Prime Minister Erdogan.”

    via NGO Letter to Obama: Concern over Turkey’s Actions | Project on Middle East Democracy (POMED).

  • Is Turkey a Democracy?

    Is Turkey a Democracy?

    By Luke Godfrey on September 20, 2012

    Turkey is increasingly democratic, in recent years having renegotiated it’s own form of ‘social contract’ to more accurately reflect the socio-political aspirations of the population and challenge the domination of the political sphere by a secular elite. This has been facilitated by a change in the normative framework and the discrediting of the Kemalist regime. The source of legitimacy for governance is now widely understood to be ‘the masses’, long marginalised by the political elite and top-down modernisation, rather than the state, although this shift has resulted in tensions across Turkish society.

    A Definition of Democracy and Issues with Defining Democracy

    Democracy has been a contested concept since first put into practice, and over the course of history has often been viewed negatively. In this regard the context for democracy today is very different, with the concept often uncritically regarded as a universal good, rather than as a particular product of socio-political circumstance. Despite a general consensus over the positive nature of democracy in much of the world (concentrated in the West), it’s most ardent practitioners can be hard pressed to provide a definition which is not arbitrary, or simply reflecting an ethno-centric viewpoint. Often, democracy is conflated in the West with liberal values, or the concept is affixed with varying descriptions such as transitional or incomplete – these labels raise questions like why is it transitional? Is there then a universal teleological endpoint for all democracies? Additionally the instrumentalist use of ‘democracy’ such as by the USA in its invasion of Iraq has resulted in democracy “circulating as a debased currency” (Schimmter & Karl, 1991: 75). Given issues with the concept such as these it is no wonder that the meaning of democracy is highly contested and ambiguous.

    Schumpeter was one of the most influential democratic philosophers, defining democracy in terms of a specific institutional mechanism such as elections, on the grounds that the ‘common good’ was too varied/subjective (Knutsen, 2010: 110). Institutions and their associated processes are some of the common criteria for evaluating democracy, although others refer to democracy on the basis of civil rights and liberties or a social dimension related to living standards (Dalton et al, 2007: 144). Many definitions then depend on which of these frameworks or factors is prioritized – unfortunately this makes finding a definition which will find wider acceptance problematic, although Robert Dahl’s ‘polyarchy’ comes close (Dalton et al, 2007: 143). Measures such as the Economist Intelligence Unit’s Effective Democracy Index (EDI) attempt to quantify features such as the effective functioning of institutions, but are also prey to criticisms over the appropriateness of criteria used etc. (Knutsen, 2010: 113). Rather than constructing a typology, democracy should be understood as a negotiated concept, within the particular cultural and political context of a society, and with differing outcomes (Dalton et al, 2007: 152). Norms, values and institutions all play a role in the adoption, and expression of democracy – “What distinguishes democratic rulers from nondemocratic ones are the norms that condition how the former come to power and the practices that hold them accountable for their actions.” (Schimmter & Karl, 1991: 76). Schimmter & Karl identify broad participation, access to the political sphere not substantially limited by power structures or economics, and responsiveness (of the rulers) to influence from society, as integral to the concept of democracy (Schimmter & Karl, 1991: 84) and it is these criteria that will be used to evaluate the particular case of Turkey.

    An Artificial Turkish Identity

    Any discussion of democracy in Turkey requires an understanding of the socio-political context, given that some non-democratic aspects have been embedded in the state from its genesis. Since the creation of The Republic of Turkey, the state has followed the path of secular modernisation, along Western lines, as set out by Kemal Ataturk. This prioritised the creation of a strong and homogenised nation-state, led by a political elite, whilst the military assumed the ‘guardianship’ of a constructed Turkish identity as well as more conventional security duties (Bulut, 2006: 128). This top-down approach marginalised the positions of those outside of the elite, meaning there was no need to reconcile the different perspectives and interests of wider society (Gurbey, 2006b: 9). Legitimacy lay in the military and the state by virtue of the their role in the struggle for independence, rather than based on participation. Nationalism and construction of the ‘Other’ (usually Kurds and other non-Turkish identities) has for much of Turkish history been the primary means of political reproduction, allowing an elite to remain in control through casting others as a threat to the state (Bulut, 2006: 127) – a particularly effective tactic whilst the state enjoyed support as legitimate in and of itself, this meta-politics characterised as “derlin devlet” – the profound state (Gurbey, 2006a: 158).

    The Turkish nation-state, and identity was a product of top-down control by the elite, rather than an organic product of society. This goes some way towards explaining the authoritarian structures of Turkish society up to the present day – they were validated by the legitimacy of the army and the state, but were also a requirement in the artificial construction of communal identity by Kemal Ataturk and his followers. The creation of the Turkish state brought together a wide range of groups and identities including two distinct groups, the Kurds and the Alevi’s, but which were seen a threat to the strong nation-state and homogeneous Turkish identity. This perception of identities other than Turkish as a threat led to the institutionalism of suppression of those identities and autonomous civil society by the state (Gurbey, 2006b: 3). The state has long denied the legitimacy of groups that threaten the centralised authority and position of the elites (Gurbey, 2006b: 16), alienating and polarising large sections of society (Ahmadov, 2008: 18). An institutionalised and undemocratic Kemalist regime lies at the heart of the Turkish state, illustrated by bodies such as the National Security Council – “Established by Article 118 of the 1982 Constitution, the Council provides the military high command the opportunity to influence, pressure, and often dictate to the government in matters of national security [security defined very broadly].” (Ayoob, 2004: 458).

    The Role of Religion and Fundamental Schisms in Turkish Identity

    One of the key parts of the modernising project was the idea of a secular state, and this has been one of the flashpoints for societal tensions and coup d’état in Turkey, making it also key to the understanding of democracy in Turkey. The 1921 constitution sidelined and dismantled much of the social structure of religious society (Carkoglu & Kalaycioglu, 2007: 13). The division of Turkish identity from the religiosity of much of society created a paradox at the heart of the state, and one that was emphasised by the disparity in both power and perspectives between the secular centre and the more religious periphery (Carkoglu & Kalaycioglu, 2007: 66). Although few appear to support an Islamic state many regard religious people as oppressed by the state (Carkoglu & Kalaycioglu, 2007: 159). Secularism takes a unique form in Turkey, aggressive rather than neutral, with the state actively attempting to suppress independent expressions of religion across the public/private divide (Seufert, 2006: 137). Despite the construction of Political Islam as the ‘Other’, it has also been instrumentalised by the state, from the time of independence where Islam was a factor in the support of the Kurds and Alevi’s of the liberation struggle to the current day. Rather than the state being wholly secular it has a large department, the Diyamet, which co-opts and subjugates religion in Turkey through control of mosques and approved teachings etc. (Seufert, 2006: 139).

    Religion, like other aspects of Turkish society, is held subservient to the needs of the state, and the contradiction of a denial of religion whilst it remains a key part of society feeds the need for authoritarian methods of control given that this contradicts the norms and values underpinning attitudes amongst much of the population (Ayoob, 2004: 451). “The dichotomy between Islam and Turkish national identity is largely the creation of the secular elite, which considers itself to be the repository of Kemalist wisdom.” (Ayoob, 2004: 456). Unless the two can be reconciled the conflict between the two will remain a key obstacle to democratisation in Turkey, state structures and legislation imposing constrictions on much of society. This conclusion can be illustrated by the recent example of the Welfare Party, which was limited by the ‘February 28th Process’ and then closed down on the basis that it was a threat to the constitutive principles of the Turkish state (Gurbey, 2006b: 16). The AKP has made some progress in breaking down the artificial construction of Islam as a threat to the nation-state, and this will be discussed further in section 5.

    Economic Failures and the Undermining of Legitimacy

    Turkey has had a tradition of political participation dating back to the 1840′s, and elections were embedded in society by 1945, to an extent (Carkoglu & Kalaycioglu, 2007: 13). However politics until recently remained dominated by an elite, participation and access remaining constrained, with parties regularly outlawed and coup d’états against elected officials on the basis of the militaries status as ‘guardians’ of the constitutive principles of the state (Bulut, 2006: 127).  Leading up to the economic crash the secularist parties remained hostile to wider political participation and scrutiny of their actions, the system remaining on of closed patronage and alienating those isolated from it (Carkoglu & Kalaycioglu, 2007: 139). As the establishment appeared unable to meet the needs and expectations to manage the economic crisis this contributed to a further reduction in legitimacy for the status-quo system. The constructed Others, including the spectre of Political Islam, lost their salience as important issues for many voters, in part due to the state’s own success in eliminating threats such as the PKK leader Ocalan.

    More immediate economic problems came to the forefront, the Kemalist regime and associated parties discredited by their mismanagement, whilst the state lost it’s somewhat deified status as a result of reliance on the EU and IMF for rescue (Bulut, 2006: 130/1). This weakened the Kemalist discourse, but did not topple it entirely – instead there are dual forms of legitimacy contesting the other, the AKP drawing it’s legitimacy from democratic participation to push it’s agenda (Gurbey, 2006a: 158). It is these failures of the state which created the opening for new forms of governance, via democratic processes rather than the authoritarian state which brought about the economic crisis. “Turkish society was in search of an option that would offer something new and it wanted politics that addressed it’s worries and longings, not those of the rulers.” (Meral, 2010: 8). From 2001 the state could no longer operate in isolation from society, and as such can no longer oppose democratic reforms with the same degree of effectiveness as it lacks the legitimacy to do so in the face of a politicised and dissatisfied public.

    The AKP and a Hostile State

    The AKP’s election was not regarded by all as a step forwards for democracy, given it’s ‘mildly’ Islamist character it was suggested by many that the party was simply biding it’s time until it could convert Turkey to an Islamist theocracy. Commentators in the West regarded the 2002 with alarm, due to their own prejudiced perspectives against Islam (Meral, 2010: 20). However the AKP has positioned itself behind democratic values and human rights, focusing on political advantage rather than religious issues explicitly (Seufert, 2006: 144). By doing so the AKP has a position from which it can attack the Kemalist elite, whilst defending itself from accusations of wanting to ‘Islamise’ the state (Dagi, 2008: 28). Although it has introduced reforms from this position it has been occupied in power struggles with ‘the deep state’ and has to operate within the structure of a state which is largely hostile to it, battles in the courts and public statements illustrating the breadth of the struggle (Meral, 2010: 25). Organs such as the President’s office, when held by Ahmet Necdet Sezer vetoed legislation in the name of the state, in opposition of democratic processes (Meral, 2010: 10). The AKP has, and continues to compete against institutions, which derive their legitimacy from the Kemalist state, and the military imposed constitution. After nearing ten years in power the AKP is still seen by some as half-heartedly committed to democracy, with reforms not going far enough or addressing the right issues (Meral, 2010: 17).  The limited progress may stem from the continuing struggle with hostile elements such as the judiciary and military. Constitutional reform was watered down by the Constitutional Court, and only passed through referendum when it was fully blocked by the state apparatus – again illustrating the division of power and legitimacy in Turkish politics (Meral, 2010: 15). Despite progress in democratic reforms, to the extent that the EU opened accession negotiations, concerns are raised by some of the actions of the AKP – “Erdogan’s Putin-like power reflexes included pressure on the media and punishment of those that were critical of the AKP.” (Meral, 2010: 18). However, despite incidents with the media etc. the AKP has demonstrated a stronger commitment to democratic practices that it’s predecessors. “It has also demonstrated that the assumed dichotomy between secularism and democracy conjured up by the Kemalist elite in order to justify authoritarian secularism is false.” (Ayoob, 2004: 463). After winning 3 elections it shows that it reflects the aims and aspirations of society, whilst the reactive Kemalist  & military elites do not.

    The Challenge of Minorities

    Central to the evaluation of democracy in Turkey is the treatment of minorities with identities independent of the national Turkish one. For this the Kurdish minority are taken to be representative. On this front the signs are not as encouraging, with the AKP attempting little more than symbolic reform, leaving in place restrictions on minority access and participation. This can be seen in the AKP’s flirtation with easing restrictions on minority issues, which have not achieved much other than cosmetic reforms such as allowing television to broadcast in Kurdish. Extensive restrictions on Kurdish expression, from statutory limitations to violence show just how far this area still has to come, and this failure undermines democratic standards elsewhere (Gurbey, 2006a: 160).

    “However, some demonstrations in the south-east of the country related to the Kurdish issue continued to be marred by violence. Difficulties with the implementation of the Law on the duties and legal powers of the police, adopted in 2007, are still being reported, especially in the south-east. Impunity remains a problem for effective judicial and administrative investigations against members of the security forces who are involved in excessive use of force.” (Commission, 2010: 21).

    This short extract from the European Commission shows some of the issues and restrictions still facing minorities, both formal and informal. An AKP amnesty for ex-PKK fighters was not upheld, undermining the view that Turkey could come to accept pluralism and diversity outside of the homogeneous Turkish identity (Meral, 2010: 14). The ten per cent nationwide margin for parties has left a substantial portion of the population unrepresented in electoral politics since 1987 (Carkoglu & Kalaycioglu, 2007: 40), parties are still closed down by the state, and restrictions on civil association remain.  “Despite the reforms, the Turkish policy towards the Kurds remains full of contradictions.” (Gurbey, 2006a: 161). Similar restrictions affect the Alevi’s who practice a different variant of Islam to the one endorsed by the state. In December 2010 the Constitutional Court dissolved the Democratic Society Party, banning 37 members for acting against the ‘indivisible’ state, setting back the administrations ‘democratic opening’ for engaging with minorities (Commission, 2010: 7).

    Conclusions

    Today much of Turkey’s political system can be characterised as being democratic, and particularly under the AKP has been making considerable steps in further reforms. Both formal and informal participation in politics is quite high, surpassing some of the ‘consolidated’ democracies of the West (Carkoglu & Kalaycioglu, 2007: 18). A pluralist political structure allows for motivated actors to interact with the state to a greater extent than under previous administrations (Carkoglu & Kalaycioglu, 2007: 109). Despite progress there is still the potential for the military to intervene, and there is ‘repression potential’ latent in the political/legislative structure of the state (Carkoglu & Kalaycioglu, 2007: 111). Reforms have chipped away at the authoritarian structures built up over the years, but the process is likely to remain in flux as different groups compete in interpretations of the constitutive principles of the state (Gurbey 2006a: 157). The difficulty facing the AKP in reforming a constitution imposed by the military, despite their own democratic mandate, shows just how strongly some aspects of the Kemalist regime are embedded in the state structures. That they succeeded is a positive step – in Erdogan’s own words, “We have passed a historic threshold on the way to advanced democracy and the supremacy of law,” (Erdogan, 13/09/2010). The European Commission was less ebullient “Overall, the constitutional amendments are a step in the right direction . . . However, broad public consultation involving all political parties and civil society, with their full engagement, is needed to strengthen support for constitutional reform.” (Commission, 2010: 8). Elected bodies though are still restricted by this wider structure, the Kemalist value framework dominating discussion of constitutive aspects of the state. In the case of the AKP it is more tightly prescribed in case of a repeat of the February 28th Process, with court cases already brought along these lines although they were unsuccessful (Meral, 2010: 25). In the cases of minorities such as the Kurds Turkey still fails to apply the same democratic standards as in wider society, and this is one of the failings which must be addressed if Turkey is to call itself democratic rather than democratising. A characterisation such as “The wave of democratisation that swept over much of the world in the 1990′s appears to have bypassed Turkey.” (Kubicek, 2001: 34) now appears mistaken, but it would be equally mistaken to say that Turkey is on it’s inexorable way to full democracy (however it is defined). Instead the situation is fluid and may move towards further democratisation or away from it, especially given the ‘strained’ political situation in the words of the European Commission (Commission, 2010: 7). On the current analysis Turkey is largely democratic, allowing for participation and access through regular elections and other representative systems that help to determine the political discourse, and in a way seen as legitimate by most of society despite some key limitations in the areas of minorities and the influence of appointed rather than elected officials.

    Bibliography                                                                   

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    Knutsen, C.H. (2010) ‘Measuring Effective Democracy’. International Political Science Review, 31: 109 pp.109-128

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    Schmitter, P. C. & Karl, T. L. (1991) ‘What Democracy Is . . . and Is Not’. Journal of Democracy, Volume 2, Number 3,  pp. 75-88

    Written by: Luke Godfrey
    Written at: Aberystwyth University
    Written for: Dr. Ayla Gol
    Date written: 04/2011