Let’s imagine for a moment—a brief moment only, for those whom this speculative thought might deter—that Turkey has become a full member of the European Union. With its demographic weight and subsequent political influence within the institutions of Brussels, what would then happen to the nationalist surges and militaristic flares that the current government of Prime Minister Recep Tayyip Erdogan shows us?
Would it be necessary, out of European solidarity, to consider following the predictable reaction of Ankara to the vote by the U.S. Senate Foreign Relations Committee on a text recognizing the Armenian genocide perpetrated in 1915 under the Ottoman Empire? Should all the member states of the Union recall their ambassadors present in Washington for consultation? A completely implausible hypothesis that nevertheless has a double merit: firstly, to show the uncontrollable, even destabilizing nature of a Turkey that is always quick to respond defensively when its history is questioned, which could be problematic for a Union still finding its way. Secondly, it accentuates the illusion of a “complete harmonization” of European diplomacies in the long term. The former Foreign Minister Hubert Védrine, assigned by the President of the Republic on these issues, affirms this openly: “There will be tomorrow, as today, a French foreign policy, and British, and German…” At the very moment when Turkish president Abdullah Gül deemed the American decision “unacceptable,” the European High Representative for Foreign Affairs and Security Policy, Javier Solana, was meeting with Armenian President Robert Kotcharian, who was very pleased with the transatlantic initiative. Facts are stubborn.
Aside from its presence in NATO, it is not in the military domain where Ankara would find favor in the eyes of Europeans, who are reluctant to let one of their members develop a dangerous conflict at the Union’s gates. Certainly, Brussels has listed the PKK, responsible for deadly attacks against Turkish soldiers and police in southeastern Anatolia, as a terrorist organization. Exasperated, Ankara’s authorities should obtain parliamentary approval to launch a cross-border military offensive intended to deal with these Kurdish rebels. Yet, the European procrastination—expressing concerns through a “message to Turkish friends” about this “potential complication of the situation in Iraq”—says a lot about the lack of means of this diplomacy, often forced to resort to statements of principles without much impact, the only smallest common denominator acceptable to the twenty-seven member states. At the very least, Brussels could have reminded the ruling AKP officials of the little success of an identical operation named “steel” launched with the same goal in the mid-90s.
Finally, on the domestic front, the new president Abdullah Gül plans to request a constitutional amendment to lift the ban on female students wearing Islamic headscarves in universities, sparking fears about challenging the fundamental principles of secularism. The philosophy of which, let us remember, inspires the new European Constitutional Treaty.
These are elements that more loosen than tighten Turkey’s ties with Europe. One could always argue, as some European leaders do, that in twenty years, Turkey will have evolved. “Eighty-four years after its founding, the religious, Kurdish, and Armenian issues have not changed,” echoes a professor from Bahçesehir University. Thus, remains the vigilance of the people. However, might this vigilance not be circumvented, and as an illustrious man predicted, be forced to accept what it refuses “as soon as its back is turned”?
