With troops amassed on the Iraqi border, the smallest spark could rekindle Turkey's slow-burning Kurdish question, reports Nyier Abdou in Silopi Driving through Istanbul's Taksim district, Mehmet, an off-duty intelligence policeman, is heatedly expounding on why government policy is driven by fear of an independent Kurdistan. The massive humanitarian crisis engendered by the crossing of some 500,000 refugees from predominantly Kurdish northern Iraq following the Gulf War in 1991 is still fresh in the minds of Turkish officials nervous that the war in Iraq will push refugees back over the border. "Turkey is not a rich country," says Mehmet. "But we helped them. We gave them food, they stayed here." Taking his eyes off the road, he turns long enough to declare that the Kurds are so ... nankör. "You know nankör?" he asks. "No, explain it," I say. He shakes his head, searching for the right word, but ultimately just repeats "nankör" more emphatically. Suddenly, he pulls the car over to the side of the road, pulls out a pocket Turkish-English dictionary and flips through with determination. He shows me the book, his finger on the word. "Ungrateful." Turkey's Kurdish south-eastern provinces are a long way from Istanbul or Ankara, where protestors continue to spill out onto the streets in anti-war demonstrations, but support for Turkish military presence in Iraq is strong. The towns and villages of the south- east are the Turkey that the European Union doesn't see. More than four years after the unilateral cease- fire that ended hostilities between the Kurdistan Workers Party (PKK) and the government, towns still maintain a heavy police presence, main roads are dotted with frequent military checkpoints and people are not inclined to talk to reporters or have their pictures taken. With war next door, tensions are rising as the military continues to build up its troops at the small border town of Silopi. At the military checkpoint outside Silopi, Turkish troops waylay reporters making a symbolic effort to reach the Iraqi border some 15 kilometres south. They're as camera shy as locals, and brandishing a camera falls just short of wielding a weapon. This is the end of the line, with only local traffic and military trucks waved through. When we rolled up, a surprisingly jovial general greeted us with a well rehearsed "I'm sorry. You speak English?" We leaned out the window, dangling our press passes, but no language was necessary to understand what came next. Even so, he unfolded a worn paper that bore the same short paragraph in numerous languages: "I'm sorry. Passage is forbidden. Turn back from here please. This is an order given for us." A few paces away, a soldier faced off oncoming traffic, his machine gun poised. All protestation was greeted with the same cheerful "I'm sorry." From the road, there's not much to see beyond the checkpoint. All troops are concealed behind walls of concrete and barbed wire, but it's no secret they are there. Talks were still ongoing this week between the US and Turkey on a deployment of Turkish troops in northern Iraq, which the US and Britain have made clear would be an unwelcome development. But comments by Turkish Army Chief of Staff Hilmi Ozkok indicate that Turkey will not enter northern Iraq without cooperation from the US. On Tuesday, US Secretary of State Colin Powell was in Turkey to discuss the situation in northern Iraq and the country's powerful National Security Council, made up of military and civilian authorities, was set to meet on Friday. Diplomatic sources indicate that the US is well aware of Turkey's "red lines" -- namely US support for an independent Kurdish state in northern Iraq and an uncontrollable refugee influx. For Turkey, the Kurdish issue is paramount, and the perceived threat of a potential Kurdish state overshadows all other policy issues. "The Kurdish problem is the main problem," says prominent nationalist and media personality Altemur Kiliç. Suggesting that Washington and the American media have been won over by the "very successful" Kurdish lobby, Kiliç argues that the government squandered Turkey's chances to have a say in what happens in northern Iraq when it refused to allow US troops to enter Iraq from Turkey. "Even before, the US was flirting with the Kurds," he says. "The 'poor suffering Armenians' have been overtaken by the 'poor suffering Kurds'." Uzmit Uzdag, chairman of the Eurasia Institute, says that in terms of timing, the freshman leadership of the ruling Justice and Development Party (AKP) have "made some mistakes" that have led to a weakened and unclear policy on Iraq. But he adds that because the US is "too pro-Kurdish", there is "strong suspicion about American aims in northern Iraq". "Both the Turkish government and the military are trying to find a way out of this dilemma," says Uzdag. He suggests that a lot will depend on how Washington handles a post-Saddam Iraq and the treatment of Iraq's ethnic Turkmen. "If America doesn't stop Kurds from attacking the Turkmen; if Washington neglects the Turkmen in the post-war makeup, then there will be a lot of problems," he said. While the US has been portrayed as naively pro- Kurdish among nationalists, it is unlikely that Washington would dare to back Kurdish independence, since another disputed state would further destabilise the region. Still, says Kiliç, the possibility exists. "They say they won't now," he says. "But then something happens and things get out of control." Since the Kurds in northern Iraq already have a government, Kiliç insists that it is natural that they would want to develop that authority into a formal state. "If I was a Kurdish nationalist, that's what I would do. But I'm a Turkish nationalist," he said. Turkey already maintains several thousand troops in northern Iraq, but fears that the war could spark unrest have put the military on edge. Although Kurdish opposition parties maintain that there is no plan to establish an independent state, panic over the prospect is palpable among policy-makers and on the street. Suspicions of Kurdish Democratic Party (KDP) leader Massoud Barzani and Patriotic Union of Kurdistan (PUK) founder Jalal Talabani run deep, and few doubt they are eyeing south-eastern Turkey. Many fear the emergence of a new resistance group, or a new arm of the old PKK, that might take advantage of the grab for power after the fall of the Iraqi leadership to raise the call for independence. Ultimately, however, this is an irrational fear, argues Hassan Kaoni, a professor of international relations at Ankara University. "Turkish Kurds want to stay in Turkey and become part of Europe," he suggests. But the military is always obsessively concerned about the security of Turkey's borders, he adds. "That's their job." A trip by a top US general, Henry Osman, to the Iraqi border town of Salahuddin on Monday has fuelled rumours that the US will soon set up a coordination centre near the border. Such a post would be similar to that set up in the area during the first Gulf War, but it could also signal a tacit understanding between the US and Turkey that a Turkish deployment across the border is not out of the cards. The US is unlikely to accept a crossing at this time, especially since the main reason offered by Turkey for a deployment is that it wants to contain a possible refugee crisis inside Iraq's borders. But with no sign of internal movement, this reason is too thin to justify a deployment. Many believe, however, that the US might accede if a radical shift in events took place and the deployment could be painted as a reaction instead of an incursion. If this is the case, then the Turkish military will be waiting for an incident on which to peg its claim that more troops in Iraq are needed to maintain the status quo. With the situation in northern Iraq becoming increasingly uncertain, a trigger could come at any time. If it does, the first of what could be many offspring crises of the war in Iraq may be born here.
