I believe it was an accident in the history of an accidentally good relationship. The Turkish-Israeli tie didn't come into existence after conscious deliberation and the mutual realization of the fact that the two countries share the same security concerns. This strange child of 20th century international relations was begotten by the gestures of the Israeli military industry and was nurtured at the breast of the tourist attractions of Turkey. Turks never fell in love with the Israelis, nor did the reverse take place. Having good relations with Israel is not an indispensable part of Turkey's foreign policy paradigm, and our good relations were not chased after, compromised for, planned and performed relations. Some time in the early 1990s, Turkey was looking for an in-flight refueling plane, and no other country wanted to sell one to Turkey. Israeli military industrialists, who were not invited to the bid at all, came up with an idea that never materialized. That idea started the 15-year honeymoon of Turkish-Israeli relations.
But Davos is not the end of these accidentally good relations. They did not have to exist, but they need to continue to do so. An accidentally born child has the right and will to survive, doesn't it? Since this child is more of the Israeli side, they are the ones to guarantee its survival. The Israeli prime minister and defense minister have already done so. Israeli Prime Minister Ehud Olmert is already a political corpse. Ehud Barak, on the other hand, is part of Israel's future, and as a former prime minister of Israel who allegedly said to Turkish Prime Minister Recep Tayyip Erdoğan that he feels happy entering the West Bank atop a tank, it is important to see that Barak is trying to be constructive.
Turkish-Israeli relations were accidentally good, and they will continue to be so. The Davos incident, on the other hand, was another accident within the history of this accident. The Turkish prime minister already has a record of lapsus linguae made abroad. He is also known to be an easily inflamed orator. In fact he believes that anger is an oratory art. The Davos incident was both a "slip of the tongue" and an "angry oration." It was indeed provoked, and the prime minister had the right to respond, and the tone and style he used was no other than his own. He was sincere and didn't lose his manners. To use the analogy of a traffic accident, Israeli President Shimon Peres was driving too fast and improperly passing, and the Turkish prime minister, who hates to be overtaken, pushed his truck in front of the Israeli car.
The Israeli media are angry that their car has crashed into the Turkish truck; the Turkish media are divided. The discussion is revolving around the acceptability of such a tone and style for use between two leaders. Turks ask: How come Peres speaks to our prime minister as if he were speaking to a tribal chieftain? (Let me add that I respect tribal chieftains and wouldn't use that tone against them either.) Israelis ask: How come Erdoğan speaks so harshly and bluntly to our president, who is older than the state of Israel and has been "the state in one man"? But I assume neither was speaking to the other. Peres was trying to appeal to world public opinion, and Erdoğan was speaking to the Turkish one.
Turks heard Erdoğan's voice. He gave a strong message, not to the Israelis, but to the public. In the past, Bülent Ecevit did the same. Erdoğan himself did the same when Sheikh Ahmad Yassin was assassinated. This is so; we and the Israelis have to accept ourselves as we are. When they speak to the world, we speak to our own streets!
The lapsus linguae in the prime minister's angry oration was about two Israeli prime ministers who felt happy when they entered the West Bank atop tanks. Erdoğan repeated that claim twice and promised that if journalists wanted to know, he would give names. He said these Israeli prime ministers revealed their joy about entering the West Bank to him personally.
Yesterday, the Star daily claimed that these two were Ariel Sharon and Ehud Barak. Well, these were the two soldier prime ministers of Israel after Yitzhak Rabin's assassination in 1995. But why should an Israeli prime minister reveal his secret enjoyment of riding tanks in Palestinian lands to the prime minister of a predominantly Muslim nation?
Could Turkish-Israeli relations have reached a level of no-secrets-at-all intimacy?
