The author of these lines is no expert on Turkish affairs. However, to some extent I can consider myself an expert on matters of the state—on where it comes from, what sustains it, and what animates it. I do not know how Turkish events will end; perhaps the people will simply calm down and go home, or perhaps it will come to a revolution and the overthrow of Erdogan. But whatever the outcome, these events demonstrate how the state can draw popular protest into itself, grind it up, and emerge even stronger.
Let me begin with the banal assertion that Turkey is a very diverse country with a large and deeply conflicted past and present. In the political sense, Turkey represents practically the full spectrum of potential conflicts—national (Turks—Kurds-Armenians-Greeks), interfaith (Muslims-Christians), civilizational (Islamists—Kemalists), lifestyle conflicts (Istanbul’s thirteen million against the Turkish village), and so on.
In such a country there exists a state that, generally speaking, knows no limits. This becomes immediately apparent when reading the Turkish constitution. Three separate articles are devoted to the fact that a person is generally free, but when necessary—is not free. They are called “restriction of fundamental rights and freedoms,” “prohibition of abuse of fundamental rights and freedoms,” and “suspension of the exercise of fundamental rights and freedoms.” Everything that the Turkish constitution proclaims can be “restricted by law” or, worse still, “determined by law.” The Turkish constitution is the embodiment of a statist’s dream. Of course, I am far from asserting that a constitution creates a state and determines its “order.” Rather, the opposite is the case. I am merely asserting that any constitution can reveal much about a country and a state. The Ukrainian constitution, for example, which most Ukrainians mistakenly believe “is not enforced,” perfectly describes the situation in which we all prosper, and explains why it could not be otherwise. But we have digressed from the topic.
Just as flies are drawn to decaying organic matter, an unlimited state attracts provocateurs, maniacs, people suffering from inferiority complexes—politicians, in other words. In a country where many reasons for conflict are mixed together, they have a truly boundless field for exploiting these conflicts for their own purposes, inflaming them and creating new ones. If the state can do anything, then it can also “resolve” any conflict—this idea is fiercely propagated by politicians of all colors and shades, and naive voters believe in it.
In reality, the state cannot do anything; the “final victory” of any one side is impossible, and especially under conditions of an unlimited state. This classic of the genre about Frodo Baggins and the Ring is once again, for the ten-thousandth time, illustrated with all persuasiveness by the example of Turkey. Apparently, the current constitution was adopted by Kemalists “for themselves.” In the very first lines of this text, the “immortal leader and unsurpassed hero Atatürk” is mentioned. The authors hoped that the unlimited state would belong only to them. Moreover, they strove with all their might to cement the status quo by declaring the initial articles of the constitution unchangeable.
However, this did not stop the cunning Saruman—Erdogan. All the long years that he was in politics, he was engaged in the creeping Islamization of Turkey, cultivating his illiterate television-dependent electorate. And now the little ring is his.
The activity of Erdogan, now armed with the Ring of Power, has long provoked discontent, which has now erupted. I would not have written anything about this if the Turkish events were merely another turn of the political wheel. But here the situation was not quite so. The demonstrations in Istanbul were anti-political. Yes, Erdogan was their cause, but they were directed against the system. Parties with their flags were not allowed at the protests. Turks emphasize the unity that arose among them, and this is also a very important anti-political moment. People did not demand “social protection,” “wage increases,” or anything else from the standing set of political slogans. They wanted to finally be left alone, which is the most terrible anti-systemic stance and the greatest crime against the state.
And now we see how the system is trying to gain the upper hand. When Erdogan failed to declare the millions of protesters non-existent, he began to reintroduce the conflict back into the frameworks of legal political process. Political parties, and especially radicals like communists who do not want to miss such an opportunity and are eager to shove their party flag into the television picture, are helping him with this. As soon as there are enough little flags, the matter can be considered resolved in favor of the system.
And who are the street demonstrators anyway? Just people. The system does not talk to people. The demonstrators will have to somehow “legalize” themselves, create a movement or a party, and this means accepting the rules of the system’s game and beginning to work for it.
So what political demands can the protesters make? Erdogan’s resignation? But this means new elections, in which… Erdogan’s party will win. Even if somehow the sluggish and suppressed Turkish opposition suddenly prevails in them, this changes nothing. The political wheel will simply make another rotation.
Finally, one can “seize power,” that is, not enter the political process, but simply kick Erdogan out of office and declare oneself power. However, again, one will have to either establish a dictatorship or call elections. The seizure of power is the triumph of power. The wheel will spin again, with new forces and enthusiasm.
In general, the conclusion is this. Modern mass protests are increasingly directed, by their nature (not by the goals or intentions of the participants), against the existing political system. But they cannot abolish it. At best, they are capable of bringing about cosmetic repairs; at worst, they reboot the system, after which it begins to work even more fiercely. The state is reliably insulated from people, and their will, expressed either in elections or in mass protest actions, cannot change the state—all of this, in the end, only benefits it. Therefore, if we want these “bastards” to stop meddling in our lives, we need to seek the road to Orodruin.