The attempted military coup that played out in Turkey late Friday night and into the morning hours of the following day (16 July 2016) comes as a reminder that the Turkish state has not securely settled in the democratic circuit. It also reminds us that civil-military balances in that large country are still fragile and can shift at any time and that the military coup phenomenon that characterises the political history of that modern secular republic during the second half of the 20th century can rear its head again in spite of all the political, social and economic changes that Turkey has undergone during the past two decades. The political order founded in Turkey by Mustafa Kemal Ataturk following the fall of the Ottoman caliphate in 1924 established the national army as the protector and guardian of this order and its secular values. Article 34 of the Internal Ordinance of the Turkish Armed Forces of 1935 stated that the duty of the armed forces was “to watch over and protect the Turkish homeland and the Turkish Republic”. This is the article that the military establishment used to justify its intervention in political life whenever it deemed necessary, whether on the grounds of the need to restore stability, the absence of which could threaten national security, or on the grounds of the need to safeguard the republic's secular values if they came under threat from the spread of ideologies that do not subscribe to — or that refuse to respect — these values, a threat that has resurfaced frequently. The Turkish army staged four coups during the second half of the 20th century: on 27 May 1960, on 2 March 1971, on 12 September 1980 and on 28 February 1997. In other words, coups occurred at the rate of approximately one every 10 years. Not all of these coups were destructive; nor did they necessary lead to regimes in which generals were in direct control. The 1960 and 1980 coups were destructive and brought sweeping purges in various government institutions, especially in the various branches of the military, police and judiciary. There were mass arrests and some executions, and the constitution was suspended and martial law was imposed. On the other occasions, it was sufficient for the military establishment to make its dissatisfaction with government policies known, implicitly or explicitly, for a government to fall and to set into motion a process to rectify the political compass. Rarely did the military establishment intervene on its own accord, independently of civilian political institutions, in order to impose its own will or views. Generally, it would rely on political parties and forces, opposed to the government or government policies and keen for it fall or change. This factor was missing in last weekend's attempted coup and it was one of the reasons it failed, marking a precedent in the history of Turkish military coups. The failed coup attempt can be seen, in and of itself, as a sign that political, social and economic circumstances in Turkey are no longer what they were before, that the relative weight of the military establishment in the Turkish political order has shrunk considerably and that that establishment, on its own, can no longer impose a de facto reality that Turkish society does not want. True, the coup conspirators committed quite a few mistakes of such a surprising nature that some observers were led to consider the possibility that Recep Tayyib Erdogan, himself, had a hand in plotting this operation as a means to justify and promote the measures he seeks in order to mould the Turkish system of government to suit his autocratic ambitions. However, these mistakes alone do not explain why the coup failed. Among the other reasons are: the response on the part of large numbers of Turkish citizens to Erdogan's call to turn out in the streets and squares to resist the coup; the closing of the ruling Justice and Development Party (AKP) ranks at this crucial moment in spite of considerable discord between many key party figures and Erdogan because of the latter's authoritarianism; the refusal of all opposition parties and ethnic minorities in Turkey to support the coup openly or even implicitly, in spite of their hatred of AKP policies and Erdogan in particular; and divisions within the military establishment itself and the open condemnation of the coup on the part of some quarters of this establishment that then moved to suppress the coup. No one can deny that Erdogan acted cleverly, as well as boldly, during those fraught hours that cast into relief, again, his many leadership talents and advantages. Nevertheless, he would be the first to realise that such talents alone would not be sufficient to resolve the situation and defeat the coup. Were it not for the rejection of the coup on the part of all Turkish political parties, civilian institutions and segments of society, Erdogan would not have been able to pass this difficult test or overcome that gruelling ordeal. Therefore, we can say that it is not Erdogan but rather Turkish society that emerged victorious from this crisis. Accordingly, Erdogan's behaviour in the coming weeks and months must come under close scrutiny. That behaviour will ultimately determine not just his political future but also, and more importantly, the fate of democracy and the future of the system of government in Turkey, and whether that Muslim country can truly evolve into an institutionalised state governed by the rule of law and capable of entrenching democratic values and traditions and furnishing an inspiring model for the rest of the region. If Erdogan operates on the premise that the coup was waged against himself personally, and against his party and his government, then his victory will whet his appetite for revenge and he will seize the opportunity to sweep away everything that stands in the way of his sole and absolute hegemony over Turkey. If, on the other hand, he proceeds on the premise that what the Turkish military establishment tried to do was a coup against the will of the Turkish people and an encroachment on their right to self determination, and that it was the Turkish people who emerged victorious from this confrontation, then perhaps this might lessen his vindictiveness and modify his imperial ambitions. If so, perhaps he might take the opportunity to promote the constitutional and legal amendments needed to eliminate all remaining obstacles that hamper the transformation of the Turkish system of government into a fully-fledged and truly democratic order. To Erdogan's good fortune, he was able to pave the way to normalisation with both Russia and Israel just a few days before this attempted coup. Certainly, this helped generate an international and regional environment less hostile to Erdogan's policies and less keen to see any military coup succeed. However, Erdogan should also realise that the challenges that his regime faces at home, as well as abroad in a tumultuous regional environment and an extremely fluid world order, are very formidable and serious. If the recent military coup bid in Turkey presented a personal trial or test for Erdogan, it also presented him with a major opportunity to resuscitate Turkey's role and prestige through policies that contribute to restoring peace and security in this region and the world. Turkey is a big country. Whether we like it or not, it is an active and influential party in many of the region's crises, especially those plaguing Arab countries such as Syria, Iraq and Libya. It is heavily involved, through a dense network of relations — some antagonistic, others cooperative — with many of the political, social and ideological forces that stir the storms that are currently raging in the Middle East and that influence developments that will determine the future of this region. Erdogan appreciates more than ever that some of his previous calculations were not correct and that some of his previous bets proved misplaced. In spite of the fact that the recent military coup marred his personal image and that of the current regime in Turkey, it has given him a new and great opportunity to change and improve that image. Will Erdogan take advantage of this opportunity? Or will his habitual vindictive instincts and thirst for power prevail? The forthcoming weeks and months hold the answer to these questions.
The writer is professor of political science at Cairo University.
