Rethinking Islamism I: Turkey -- friend or foe?

Never do we stop to ask precisely what we mean by Islamism.

Turkey has been in the news after nine of its citizens were killed by Israeli armed forces on the Gaza flotilla, and will continue to be so, especially if its prime minister, Recep Tayyip Erdogan, sails to Gaza himself, as reports from Lebanon say he will.

It attracts our attention intermittently, this strange state on the edge of Europe about which we can never quite decide: is it a democracy emerging from the shadows of decades of brutal, military-dominated rule, a la Midnight Express, or a faltering beacon of secularism in danger of being snuffed out by resurgent Islam?

We have a sense that it matters, a truth that sage voices remind us of, although not frequently enough. As long ago as 1987 the historian Bernard Lewis was warning, in a paper delivered to a symposium held by the then pope, that "much will depend, for the future attitudes both of the Turks and the other Islamic peoples, on the treatment accorded to [Turkey's] application" for full membership of the EU. (The paper is published for the first time in Lewis's new book, Faith and Power: Religion and Politics in the Middle East.)

That Turkey's application has been stalled for years, partly because of antique fears about Mussulman hordes - the lifting of the Siege of Vienna in 1683 still evidently too recent a memory for amity to flourish - is evidence of the suspicion with which the country is viewed. But the stumbling blocks are not quite what they were. Officially, the line originally was that Turkey had to improve its human rights record; it had to be nicer to its Kurdish minority; and there was the small matter of whether the Ottoman massacre of Armenians in the First World War constituted genocide or not.

That these may seem quite enough to be getting on with is highly convenient for those who do not want Turkey in the EU at any point, whatever progress it makes towards meeting the conditions laid down by Brussels. For the suspicion now is that the country is turning into the "wrong" kind of democracy. Europe never had a problem with the Ataturk-style secularism that Turkey's generals rigidly guarded for so long.

But it failed to make the link between the two, just as Bush and Blair saw no connection between the secularism of Saddam's Iraq and the fact that it was a Baathist regime. In both countries recent free elections have shown that voters are irritatingly fond of religiously-inclined parties which are happy to operate within a democracy, but are less enamoured of the adjective "liberal" that the West assumes should precede it.

It was obvious even before the invasion that Iraq was going to end up exchanging one form of nightmare for a succession of others. Turkey, however, was not expected - not meant - to elect an explicitly religious government that has formed a warm friendship with Hamas and enjoys cordial relations with Hezbollah. Don't they know those are the bad guys?

However often it is qualified, however much the moderation of the ruling AKP is stressed, the insurmountable problem is that the party is Islamist. This has become a very bad word indeed, even before you even think of adding that which frequently partners it, namely "terrorism".

Okay: I understand why. Islamists want to set up a worldwide Islamic state, goes the train of thought - and they'll settle for individual countries while they're waiting for global domination. These states will obviously be theocracies - think Iran! think Saudi Arabia! think Taliban! - in which no one will be allowed to have a drink, women will have to wear burqas all day, beard-measuring will become a profitable mode of employment, and hand chopping will be introduced into the criminal justice code. Or something like that.

Never do we stop to ask precisely what we mean by Islamism. I think that's worth doing anyway, but especially so given that if every Middle Eastern country held free elections - which we want them to do, don't we? - we would almost certainly see rather a lot of Islamist parties doing rather well, thank you.

As this is the first post of what will be a short series on Islamism, I will draw this introduction to a close here but will end with this thought. If we are so fearful of the term Islamism that we do not begin to examine it, cannot see the multiplicity of different forms it might take, and cannot countenance any such ideologically coloured government being a full ally, still less a member of the EU, then we have already discounted as foes several ruling parties - and there will be more - who could conceivably be friends.

It would seem strange, and counter to our own interests, to start that list with Turkey, a fellow member of Nato and a country whose trajectory ought to be a cause for hope, not concern.

Sholto Byrnes is a Contributing Editor to the New Statesman
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The Women's March against Trump matters – but only if we keep fighting

We won’t win the battle for progressive ideas if we don’t battle in the first place.

Arron Banks, UKIP-funder, Brexit cheerleader and Gibraltar-based insurance salesman, took time out from Trump's inauguration to tweet me about my role in tomorrow's Women’s March Conservative values are in the ascendancy worldwide. Thankfully your values are finished. . . good”.

Just what about the idea of women and men marching for human rights causes such ill will? The sense it is somehow cheeky to say we will champion equality whoever is in office in America or around the world. After all, if progressives like me have lost the battle of ideas, what difference does it make whether we are marching, holding meetings or just moaning on the internet?

The only anti-democratic perspective is to argue that when someone has lost the argument they have to stop making one. When political parties lose elections they reflect, they listen, they learn but if they stand for something, they don’t disband. The same is true, now, for the broader context. We should not dismiss the necessity to learn, to listen, to reflect on the rise of Trump – or indeed reflect on the rise of the right in the UK  but reject the idea that we have to take a vow of silence if we want to win power again.

To march is not to ignore the challenges progressives face. It is to start to ask what are we prepared to do about it.

Historically, conservatives have had no such qualms about regrouping and remaining steadfast in the confidence they have something worth saying. In contrast, the left has always been good at absolving itself of the need to renew.

We spend our time seeking the perfect candidates, the perfect policy, the perfect campaign, as a precondition for action. It justifies doing nothing except sitting on the sidelines bemoaning the state of society.

We also seem to think that changing the world should be easier than reality suggests. The backlash we are now seeing against progressive policies was inevitable once we appeared to take these gains for granted and became arrogant and exclusive about the inevitability of our worldview. Our values demand the rebalancing of power, whether economic, social or cultural, and that means challenging those who currently have it. We may believe that a more equal world is one in which more will thrive, but that doesn’t mean those with entrenched privilege will give up their favoured status without a fight or that the public should express perpetual gratitude for our efforts via the ballot box either.  

Amongst the conferences, tweets and general rumblings there seem three schools of thought about what to do next. The first is Marxist  as in Groucho revisionism: to rise again we must water down our principles to accommodate where we believe the centre ground of politics to now be. Tone down our ideals in the hope that by such acquiescence we can eventually win back public support for our brand – if not our purpose. The very essence of a hollow victory.

The second is to stick to our guns and stick our heads in the sand, believing that eventually, when World War Three breaks out, the public will come grovelling back to us. To luxuriate in an unwillingness to see we are losing not just elected offices but the fight for our shared future.

But what if there really was a third way? It's not going to be easy, and it requires more than a hashtag or funny t-shirt. It’s about picking ourselves up, dusting ourselves down and starting to renew our call to arms in a way that makes sense for the modern world.

For the avoidance of doubt, if we march tomorrow and then go home satisfied we have made our point then we may as well not have marched at all. But if we march and continue to organise out of the networks we make, well, then that’s worth a Saturday in the cold. After all, we won’t win the battle of ideas, if we don’t battle.

We do have to change the way we work. We do have to have the courage not to live in our echo chambers alone. To go with respect and humility to debate and discuss the future of our communities and of our country.

And we have to come together to show there is a willingness not to ask a few brave souls to do that on their own. Not just at election times, but every day and in every corner of Britain, no matter how difficult it may feel.

Saturday is one part of that process of finding others willing not just to walk a mile with a placard, but to put in the hard yards to win the argument again for progressive values and vision. Maybe no one will show up. Maybe not many will keep going. But whilst there are folk with faith in each other, and in that alternative future, they’ll find a friend in me ready to work with them and will them on  and then Mr Banks really should be worried.