By Valeria Giannotta

On 21 March 2013, the beginning of spring was celebrated in Turkey. During the Nevruz festival in the southeastern province of Diyarbakir, Abdullah Öcalan – the jailed leader of the PKK (Kurdistan Worker Party) – sent out a clear message, after long negotiations with the AKP government. “The guns should fall silent and politics should come to the forefront,” was Ocalan’s message. “The stage has been reached where our armed forces should withdraw beyond the borders. It is not the end; it is the start of a new era.”

With this statement from the longtime icon of the Kurdish movement, Turkey seems to have reached a crucial turning point. It signifies a concrete hope for the Kurdish people, who have long been fighting for equal rights and the full recognition of their identity, against the assimilation assumption in Turkish constitutional law.

The ‘Kurdish Issue’ has always been the most critical and hotly-debated one concerning the structure of Turkey as a modern state. In the process of nation-building from 1923, secularization and securitization have played a key role, aiming to establish a new identity acceptable to all the ethno-religious elements of Turkey. However, although it was proclaimed that sovereignty resided in the ‘Turkish nation,’ establishing a modern state was not an easy task; from the very beginning, governments had to face the problem of Anatolia’s non-Turkish Muslims. Indeed as it is constitutionally recognized that all people born in Turkey are Turks, it is this specific ethno-cultural dimension that emphasizes the uniqueness of being Turkish.

Ethnic Status and Defining National Unity

The critical issue of the Kurdish population emerged as a natural outcome of these dynamics. Belonging to a different ethnic group, and speaking a different language, the Kurds sought the right to freely express their identity- without this being perceived as an obstacle to inclusion in the Turkish nation. Since in legal terms the Kurdish population is not identified as an ethnic or religious minority, the issue is substantially related to some people with their own history, culture and language and a particular attachment to a specific territory, assimilated by Constitutional law to the Turkish State.

Today, the status of the Kurdish population is the most important ethnic problem for Turkey. As a result of the urbanization process, a large number of Kurds moving to major urban centers have developed a greater sense of ethnicity, one which has been reinforced by the violent acts of the PKK over the past three decades. The result is a quite clear separation between the Kurdish minority and the majority of the Turkish population.

In the last 30 years, the PKK – recognized as a terrorist organization by Turkey and much of the international community – has waged a bloody campaign for autonomy and self-rule in predominantly Kurdish regions of Southeastern Anatolia. In that time, more than 40,000 people (including civilians and security forces) have been killed. However, more moderate Kurdish groups have been disassociating themselves from violence against civilians, and they have also been committed to finding a political solution within the existing unitary state and the democratic parliamentary system.

Facing this critical situation in the past decade Turkey has taken significant steps by expanding cultural and political rights for the Kurds. For the first time since the foundation of the modern Republic, Prime Minister Erdoğan and his AKP government have addressed the issue by stressing that in the past Turkey had made ​​mistakes. They say that the Kurdish issue should be resolved through the process of democratization, in full respect for the principles of ‘a single state, one nation and one flag’, where Islam is the cementing force for national unity.

AKP Electoral Success and the Kurdish Vote

Since its rise to power in 2002, the AKP attitude has been able to frame the Kurdish issue within the parameters of freedom and political rights, through the ongoing reforms process related to the goal of full EU accession. Although these claims have not always been followed by effective sweeping policy changes, but rather by small concessions like allowing television and radio broadcasts in Kurdish, the AKP approach to the problem indicates a significant distancing from those of other parties in Turkey. Moreover, such de facto recognitions helped the governing party gain substantial support from Southeastern Anatolian districts in the 2007 elections. Indeed, in that electoral race AKP secured 46.6% of the vote and a total of 550 seats in Parliament, marking the largest margin of victory for a single-party government since 1960.

Similarly, AKP’s success has been in part dependent on the votes from those provinces where Kurdish citizens constitute a dominant majority. A geographical analysis of the election results, in fact, shows that the Conservative Democrats have been able to divide the Kurdish electoral space in two- between pro-AKP and pro-Kurdish party blocs.

This significant support from the eastern provinces has contributed to a robust mandate for the current government, especially useful for its attempt of constitutional reform. However, despite the hopes and assumptions, no coherent policy has been developed, mainly because of the lack of consensus from the opposition. In fact, neither CHP nor MHP have welcomed the so-called ‘democratic opening’ because they claim it is liable to increase the risk of the disintegration of the country along ethnic lines.

According to this interpretation it is not surprising, therefore, that there was unanimous support in the Constitutional Court for closing down the Kurdish Democratic Society Party (DTP) in 2009. The court accused it of “being the focal point of activities against the country and the indivisible unity of the state.”

Despite these disagreements, the impressive results of the 2010 referendum have instead played a significant role in Turkish politics. By winning the confidence of 58% of the voters, AKP has been legitimized and thus more determined to proceed with a number of reforms aimed at amending the still existing 1982 military constitution. Their stated goal was to transform the ‘bureaucratic republic’ to a ‘democratic’ one, by changing the constitution.

This pledge put Prime Minister Erdoğan in position to emerge victorious from 2011 election, with significant popular support (close to 50%). Such a result brought awareness among the AKP’s Kurdish counterpart that the ruling party intends to remain in power for a long time. However, the fact that another three million votes still went to the BDP – the Kurdish Democratic Party – has underlined the urgency of a compromise with the “Turkish Kurdistan” as essential to resolving the thorny issue.

The Return to Violence and Regional Concerns

Paradoxically, while the AKP strengthened its dominant position nationally with these elections, it also lost ground among Kurdish supporters. The common expectation was that a second democratic initiative would be launched, not something indicating simple political maneuvering. Indeed as a reaction to the situation, violence has been escalating in Southeastern Turkey, and ethnic divisions have been sharpened.

With the resumption of the guerrilla fighting came the terrorist attack in Hakkari province of October 2011- one of the bloodiest episodes to have occurred in Turkish territory. Turkey responded by launching a quick counter-offensive in northern Iraq, and a series of joint operations on the domestic level, leading to the arrests of numerous accused sympathizers of the PKK. These included several members of the BDP, as well as Busra Ersanli, a university professor and member of the parliamentary committee for constitutional amendments.

Further, with the escalation of violence it is worth mentioning the large-scale military operation carried out by the Turkish military in December 2011. This resulted in the killing of 35 young smugglers, mistaken for guerrillas, in the region of Uludere near the Iraqi border. Even if it was called “a tragic operating mistake” by the Turkish state, it contributed to sparking street protests in Turkish cities, heightening the animosity towards the government.

Thus the ‘Kurdish issue’ is for politicians not just a matter of internal politics, but also an issue with real regional repercussions. The Turkish military operations in Southeastern Anatolia and in northern Iraq have soured relations with Baghdad. On a second front, Ankara’s position towards Syria involves the desire to exert some influence on Kurdish issues in Syria before the eventual successor to Assad.  The strong links between Damascus and the Syrian branch of the PKK dates back at least to the early 1980s, and in the 1990’s Abdullah Öcalan himself had been sheltered in Syria. Furthermore the concern for the Kurdish separatist threat is shared with Iran too: the Tehran regime feels threatened by the action of the separatist PJAK (Party of Free Life of Kurdistan), as PKK and in its close coordination, aspiring to territorial autonomy for the Kurds there.

Taken in its regional context, the Kurdish issue is a litmus test for both Turkey’s full domestic maturity and its external projection as a regional leader, converging democratic opening policies and the evergreen strategy of “zero problems with neighbors.” Here arises the need for strong internal solidarity that has become crucial in a time of turmoil, and above all in a time of new electoral campaigning. Therefore, the call for a ceasefire last March would have to be included in this framework.

The withdrawal of armed members of the PKK from Turkey is a priority for resolution of the country’s ‘terrorism problem.’ It is expected to happen by the end of 2013. If it does happen, it will pave the way for further AKP success in 2014 local and presidential elections. As the main interlocutor in ongoing talks with Abdullah Öcalan, Prime Minister Erdoğan has been perceived as the leading figure in the peace process since last October. After he got the public support of the jailed PKK leader, he became more willing to develop a valuable road map for addressing Kurdish issue, appointing a commission of ‘wise men’ to develop it.

Such a success would definitely open the way for Erdoğan’s presidential candidacy. Indeed, although working on the issue outside of Parliament is not perceived as a valid solution by the opposition, it seems the safest option- both for personally carrying out the process and for avoiding sabotage. Already during the crucial time of the last negotiation, some of the minutes of a recent meeting between BDP delegation and Öcalan were leaked to the press, as an apparent move to disturb the positive atmosphere around a hypothetical solution of the longstanding conflict. Before this, another attempt to boycott the negotiation occurred in September 2011, when a tape recording revealed secret talks between Turkish government officials and members of the PKK in Oslo.

Turkey seems to have come to a historic turning point, and its leaders will seek to prevent any impulse aimed to fragment rather than consolidate the results obtained. In the country – and even among the overall Kurdish population – there is optimism, which leaders are keen to not see disappointed. The road towards democratic coexistence is open, but the way still remains uphill.  A mutual embrace from all parties involved would be the first step towards settling the issue. Without cohesion and awareness there is the risk of perpetuating and exacerbating a real clash of civilizations, both within and beyond Turkey’s borders. And that could trigger the beginning of a much hotter spring in Turkey.

For nearly thirty years, the P.K.K. and the Turkish Army have been fighting in the remote mountains on the border of Turkey and Iraq, along the roads that connect those mountains to Turkish towns, and sometimes inside of those towns. Over forty thousand people on both sides, including civilians, have died. Ocalan has been in prison since 1999, and the day marked his return, if only in a sense. It was met with wild exuberance. Many of the people at the rally carried flags that featured only his face against a canary-yellow background. His portrait swayed above the crowd, suspended between two lampposts; another was draped over the stage rafters; another to the rear of the stage. When the M.C. led a chant of “Long live Newroz,” the crowd answered back, using a nickname for Ocalan, “Long live ‘Apo.’” The slogan for the day put Ocalan first: “Freedom for Ocalan, Status for Kurds.” It didn’t matter that the guest of honor was a no-show. On Newroz, which typically ushers in a renewed vow of P.K.K. resistance, the absences are as important as the attendees. A red chair labelled for Sakine Cansiz, one of the Kurdish women murdered in Paris early this year, sat unoccupied in the front row of the V.I.P. bleachers. Her photo and the photos of the two young women killed along with her were emblazoned stage left. As in years past, Newroz was about remembering the dead; this year it was also about preventing more deaths.

Ocalan’s letter went on. “We have sacrificed our youth. We have paid heavily, but not in vain. Fighting gave the Kurdish identity back to Kurds.… But blood spills from the chest of youth no different from Kurdish as from Turkish. This is a new period. Instead of arms, we have ideas.” The words thumped at full volume from dangling speakers. The crowd chanted “Apo.” Young men climbed the stage rafters to drape a giant, slightly battered Kurdish flag over the top. Rows of revelers reached the very back of the park, where still more people tried to climb over the fence. Farther away the rally morphed into a fair. Families sat on picnic blankets, eating sticky pastries and pushing their kids on portable metal swings, half-listening to the distant pronouncement of Ocalan, who, as one woman told me later, “is the only one we trust.”

In 2012, Turkey’s ruling Justice and Development Party (A.K.P.) banned the Newroz celebration. Fighting between the P.K.K. and the army had been especially intense, and cancelling Newroz was both a punishment and an attempt to prevent more violence. But people gathered anyway on the expansive fields surrounding locked Newroz Park, and the day devolved into demonstrations and clashes with the police, who saturate Diyarbakir’s streets. This year’s Newroz was both larger and more peaceful, and the police sat leaning against their armored vehicles a few blocks from the park, looking bored.

It was clear that day that an overwhelming majority of Kurds support an end to the violence. But among the crowd at Newroz Park on Thursday were perhaps a million different specific expectations. Two women from Roboski carried framed photographs of their sons, killed by the Turkish military in 2011 while they smuggled goods from Iraq into Turkey. The mothers told me what they expected now that the years of fighting were over: “We want them to find out who killed our sons.” Others wanted to be able perform Kurdish dances and wear Kurdish clothing. They wanted to be able to speak Kurdish in school and defend themselves in Kurdish in court. They wanted to be able to gather publicly without fear of arrest or aggression from the police. They wanted the existence of Kurds acknowledged in the constitution. They wanted some industry to move to southeast Turkey. Peace, they hoped, would create an environment in which these rights could, at the very least, be discussed. Far from the stage I climbed a grassy hill and asked an older man named Habib what he expected. “There’s never enough money,” he said. “I want a government job.” Nearby, Fatma sat smoking a cigarette. “Fighting makes everyone’s life very difficult,” she said. “If there is peace, we can speak our language.” It was understood that, in addition to all of this, everyone also wanted Ocalan to be released from prison.

Alongside the hope was urgency. This is not the first time Turkish Prime Minister Recep Tayyip Erdogan has tried to solve the so-called “Kurdish issue,” but people felt certain it would be the last. Newroz was as much a welcoming of peace as it was a farewell to the P.K.K.—a bittersweet moment for a community that hates war but is grateful to those who waged it. The parting would not be easy. Without the authority of the P.K.K., Kurds felt suddenly at the mercy of a Turkish politician who had disappointed them in the past. The Kurdish people, they told me, would not be fooled again. This skepticism was expressed the loudest by a few P.K.K. youth who took the stage, all but their eyes obscured by scarves. “Today we don’t trust the A.K.P.,” they said. “But we trust our movement, and we trust our leader… We would like to warn the A.K.P. that they shouldn’t hinder the process. We will not accept any conspiracy. If they conspire, they will know who is their friend and who is their enemy.”

Distrust on both sides is one of the major challenges to real reform. The circumstances of a changing Middle East—war in Syria, wealth in Iraqi Kurdistan—have made peace with the Kurds necessary for Turkey, and Erdogan’s ambitions for the Presidency are surely a factor as well. But Erdogan has not often sounded like a leader intent on negotiation with the Kurds. Just this past November, when Kurdish prisoners were two months into a hunger strike, Erdogan responded by suggesting that Turkey reinstate the death penalty. He has consistently promised the Turkish public that the Army would defeat the P.K.K. militarily, and he responded to the Newroz celebration by complaining about the lack of Turkish flags (there were, as far as I could tell, exactly zero). He has often been criticized for viewing the Kurdish issue only as one of national security, not human rights. This perspective is problematic if it means a solution, for Erdogan, stops at a cease-fire. His reaction to Newroz—a day in which Kurdish rebellion is expressed through their culture, which includes their flag—seemed to confirm that criticism; if Erdogan does have insight into the cultural solidarity underlying the armed resistance, he’s not prepared to show it.

On the other side, there is Ocalan, and his unparalleled power among his people. That power can benefit the Kurdish community—as in last year, when he called off the hunger strike, and now, as the bearer of peace—but can also be a detriment. Ocalan’s freedom comes first in the Newroz slogan, and first in the minds of most Kurds. It is perhaps ironic that his call for a democratic solution so vastly overshadowed the democratically elected B.D.P. (pro-Kurdish Peace and Democracy Party) officials standing on stage during the reading of his letter. Every movement needs a leader, but the worship of Ocalan is disconcerting in part because it is so familiar. Fervor for Ocalan is not unlike that for Ataturk, and Kurdish nationalism is as strong as Turkish nationalism. Freedom for Ocalan looks remote. If peace depends on it, then peace may not last.

The next day, along with four other journalists, I met Osman Baydemir, the mayor of Diyarbakir. He had been up late at a Newroz reception, and he was tired. “We have witnessed a historical Newroz,” he said. “Millions of people at the same moment were shouting for peace.” Baydemir, like his colleagues in the B.D.P., has not had an easy time in office. Two court cases against him have resulted in large fines, but the financial burden is minor compared to the threat of prison. Since 2009, thousands of Kurds have been imprisoned for alleged ties to the P.K.K., and because of this it’s unclear how much Kurds trust the democracy they welcomed on Thursday. But Newroz, as Baydemir knows, was only the first step of a very complicated process. It’s impossible to predict whether peace will last, whether Kurds will get what they want, and whether Erdogan will change his mind. “The only thing we know now,” Baydemir said, “is that as long as we have war, people will die.”

Photograph by Zeynep Akinci.