Politics of confrontation

Nonetheless, clouds are gathering again these days. The democratic initiative launched by the government to address the Kurdish issue has been overshadowed in recent days by several unfortunate events. In quick succession and with impeccable timing, they have laid new obstacles in the path of further progress.

No one has yet claimed responsibility for the recent attack in Tokat that killed seven soldiers. As President Abdullah Gül pointed out, the timing and the location of the ambush raise serious questions. Popular reaction has, however, not waited for answers: the outpouring of anger has largely been directed at the Kurdistan Workers’ Party (PKK) and at the Kurds.

The closure case against the Democratic Society Party (DTP) was launched more than two years ago, yet the rapporteur of the Constitutional Court submitted his recommendations to have the party banned at a time when prospects for peace should render the trial meaningless.

Pouring further oil on the fire, members of the DTP themselves have opted for a short-sighted approach which gives priority to the fate of PKK leader Abdullah Öcalan over that of the party’s own constituents and of the country as a whole.

The attitude adopted by the DTP is undoubtedly disappointing. But while it is playing its cards badly at a crucial juncture, we mustn’t forget that generations of Turkish politicians have been equally myopic.

For decades, Kurds have been waiting for the Turkish state to hear their grievances and adopt more flexible policies. It was perhaps wishful thinking to expect their politicians to rise to the occasion and move in sync with the government’s sudden change of attitude. The DTP is, after all, also a product of the Turkish political system, which relies more on confrontation than on dialogue and consensus.

The angry demonstrations that have taken place across the country in the recent past carry a serious risk of escalation. Already, two young people have died as a result of violent protests. The outpouring of emotion that followed the deaths of the young privates has also shown once again how entrenched the “us” and “them” mentality remains.

While the media has a responsibility to cover events, it also needs to exercise restraint. The images of Anatolian mothers -- they never seem to come from Etiler or Nişantaşi -- mourning their sons are very moving and their grief all too real. Sadly, they only seem to exist in the public eye as grieving mothers. For a few days, their overwhelming sorrow makes headlines and shapes the political agenda. Then they retreat into obscurity to face their losses alone.

In between funerals, the harshness of their daily lives, often blighted by poverty, never seems newsworthy. Nor is the pain experienced on the Kurdish side, the displacement of villagers, the ill-treatment and the deaths Kurdish parents have also suffered, ever properly acknowledged. Selective empathy only serves to undermine what should be a common goal: reaching peace.

Many commentators and politicians, including some DTP parliamentarians, have already rushed to declare the democratic initiative dead and buried. Experience elsewhere, in Northern Ireland for instance, has shown that no peace process is ever straightforward. Years of one-sided perceptions cannot be reversed overnight. Setbacks and provocations are, sadly, often to be expected.