Five stages of Kurdish nationalism

M. Hakan Yavuz divides the rise of Kurdish nationalism into five stages and argues that

The state's policies are the determinant factors in the evolution and modulation of the Kurdish ethno-nationalism. The major reason for the politicization of Kurdish cultural identity is the shift from multi-ethnic, multi-cultural realities of the Ottoman empire to the nation-state model.

Yavuz contends that there is nothing natural about the development of Kurdish nationalism as is true of other nationalisms. Kurdish nationalism has an 'ethnie' that Smith seems necessary for any nationalisms and this ethnie has been used by Kurdish ethnic entrepreneurs to mobilize Kurds. The Kurds are, however, divided along the tribal, linguistic, region,al and religious lines. These divisions, which have been sustained due to rugged, mountainous geography, have been a major reason for weakness in Kurdish nationalism.

Yavuz declares the tribal structure as the core depository of Kurdish identity and argues that it has both helped and harmed Kurdish nationalism.

This tribal structure played a dual role: it prevented the formation of a Kurdish unity by keeping them fragmented, and preserved a heightened Kurdish particularism vis-a-vis the Turks, Persians, and Arabs.

Kurdish nationalism started to take shape due to the centralization policies of the Ottoman empire (1878-1924); it acquired an ethnic bent/consciousness under Kemalist reforms (1925-61); later influenced by the broader Turkish political struggles, class consciousness, and leftist dominated it (1962-83); the 1980 coup led to a military struggle (1983-99); and finally the capture of Ocalan and end of Kurdish insurgency has moved it to its present/last stage.

Stage 1: Anti-centralization Revolts and Politicization of the Islamic Identity

Centralization and modernization of the Ottoman empire led to revolts in Kurdish areas. However, one should be cautious in calling them national revolts as they were primarily local. As modernization reforms decreased the hold of tribal ties/loyalties, Sufi networks, like Naksibendi and Kadiri, increased their influence and Kurdish ethnic awareness rose in the forms of Islamic consciousness. While putting revolts against its policies, the Ottoman state also decided to use Kurds (and their Islamic consciousness) and Sultan Abdulhamid II formed the Hamidiye Regiments to counter Russians and Armenians. However, Islam didn't become a crucial part of Kurdish nationalism as it is part of Turkish nationalism.

Stage 2: National Secularization (1925-61)

The way the Ottoman empire was partitioned and the annulled Treaty of Sevres has left deep scars on the collective memory of Turks. British support for the Kurdish state and the inclusion of Kurdish autonomy in the unfair treaty is not forgotten.

After the war, Turkey became a predominantly Muslim nation and cosmopolitan Ottomanism gave way to secular nationalism that abhorred diversity. Ottoman legacy, however, resulted in a paradox that is still unresolved:

Due to the Ottoman legacy, Turkey embodies an irresolvable paradox in the foundation of the Republic in the 1920s. On the one hand, the state, formed as a result of demographic Islamization of the country, used Islam to unify diverse ethnolinguistic groups; on the other hand, it defined its 'progressive' civilizing ideology, known as Kemalism, in opposition to Islam.

However, the Turkish state wanted to promote its own brand of Islam that was not acceptable to both Turks and Kurds. The end of Caliphate in 1924 was one of the main reasons for the first Kurdish rebellion, known as the Sheik Said rebellion, and so it was based on ethnoreligious nationalism. Due to the authoritarian approach of the Turkish state and its promotion of Turkish ethnic nationalism, there were two more Kurdish revolts (the revolt of Agri in 1930-31 led by Ihsan Nuri Biltis and  Zaza/Alevi Kurds revolt in 1937-38 around Dersim).

Stage 3: Secularization of the Kurdish Question through Socialism (1961-83)

As Kurds became more educated, the tribal and religious leaders slowly lost their power and intellectuals became the new leaders. The Turkish state was always aligned with the West but, during the 1950s, it became a partner by joining NATO and sending its forces to support the US forces in the Korean War. The Kurdish intellectuals, like many other university students in the West, were disillusioned with the West and expressed their Kurdish grievances in socialist idioms. With the Turkish state in the Western camp, socialism seemed to be an apposite ideology for all those oppressed by the Turkish state, including the Kurds. Kurds, particularly Alevi Kurds, took a leading part in Leftist magazines (such as bilingual Turkish-Kurdish Deng and Dicle-Firat), political parties (such as Labor Party), and groups (such as Revolutionary Cultural Society of the East (DDKO is its Turkish acronym)). After the 1970 coup, the Labor Party and DDKO were outlawed. The repression continued as well as the ambush and sabotage in the 1970s. In November 1978, Kurdistan's Workers Party (PKK) was formed, with Abdullah Ocalan as its head. The 1980 coup declared radical Islam, the Left, and Kurdish nationalism as key threats to the Turkish state. Repression increased and all avenues of cultural expression were blocked. The terrorist activities of the PKK moved even outside Turkey as a Turkish consulate in France was bombed in November 1980. The key achievement of the PKK during this period was taking tribe and Islam out of Kurdish nationalism.

Stage 4: Emergence of PKK (1983-99)

The return of (partial) democracy did not change the state repression and the PKK militant campaign. The PKK during this time got help from other countries. Syria allowed it to establish training camps and Western European countries gave space for organization and propaganda. The PKK attacked not only the hybrid regime and its supporters but also Turkish nationalism. This increased Kurdish consciousness and politicization of Turkish nationalism. The killings and terrorist activities of PKK continued in the 1980s and 1990s. The target was not only the Turkish state but also Turkish civilians and Kurdish civilians who did not identify with the PKK. There were some unilateral ceasefires by the PKK but they did not last long. Later, Syria stopped its support for the PKK and the Turkish military used the Regional State Emergency Governorate (OHAL) which included almost all the Kurdish majority provinces to take special measures, ignoring normal constitutional protections, to defeat the PKK which even used children and female suicide bombings to fight them. The Turkish state also helped create Islamic Kurdish hit squads which killed PKK supporters in broad daylight, with state support. The scars of this conflict were deep and affected every person in the region.

PKK Flag

Source: Wikipedia

Stage 5: Kurdish problem as a European problem (2000- )

In 1998, Turkey increase its pressure on Syria and threatened to retaliate militarily if it did not completely stop helping the PKK. Turkey was emboldened by close support from the US and Israel and the Syrian military's problems because of old equipment and the non-availability of spare parts after the collapse of the USSR. Syria caved in and an agreement was signed with Turkey ending support to the PKK. Ocalan was forced out of Syria and Lebanon and was eventually captured from Kenya, with the US support. The PKK tried to up the ante and increase violence but it failed. Ocalan during his trial praised Ataturk and said that he was ready to serve the Turkish state and termed democratic struggle as the only feasible solution to the Kurdish question. He was awarded a death sentence that was later commuted to a life sentence. In its 7th Extraordinary Congress, the PKK gave up armed struggle and several of its members surrendered to Turkish authorities. After being declared a "candidate state" by the EU in December 1999, the pressure on the Turkish state also increased. It had to implement several decisions by the European Court of Human Rights (ECHR) had given several decisions against its brutal tactics against Kurds and it also had to be more concerned about human rights, rule of law, and minority rights. This led to a series of measures to allow cultural expression of the Kurdish minority in Turkey. The PKK also toned down its secularism and accepted Islam as part of Kurdish nationalism to increase its support.

Source: BBC

Yuvaz's article was written in 2001 so it ends with the hope that the situation will improve. With the arrival of the AKP and Erdogan on the scene, initially things improved but soon there was another insurgency in 2004. In 2009, Erdogan initiated a new social contract with the Kurdish minority ("Kurdish Opening") and took several measures to recalibrate the Kurdish-Turkish relations. However, relations again deteriorated and in 2015, the Turkish state and the PKK was fighting each other again. The misery of the Kurdish people is continuing. 

Ataturk Cultural Center

Mr. Zik has written a fascinating account of the iconic Ataturk Cultural Center (One building, several facades: political showcasing in contemporary Turkey) on Open Democracy website. This historic building has now been demolished. Mr. Zik has linked this demolition with religious nationalism:

An iconic building is erased, together with the successive faces it has worn as Turkey hurtled from secular modernity via Gezi Park, to the latest experiment in religious nationalism. 

While Turkey's movement towards religious nationalism is undeniable and President Erdogan's animosity towards Republican project, with its aggressive secularism, is obvious and well-documented, is Ataturk Cultural Center's demolition related to religious nationalism? Mr. Zik is not convincing enough. Particularly, when one knows that the new building will retain some aspect of the old historic building, will be named Ataturk Cultural Center and will not have any distinguishing motifs of Islamic architecture. The architectural designs of the new building are shown below.

Source: Tabanlioglu Architects Revives Ataturk Cultural Center As A "World-Class" Arts And Culture Venue

Anyways, the article is engrossing as it recounts the history of this iconic building, linking it with the broader developments of the Turkish nation. Enjoy

Atatürk Cultural Center (the AKM) is gone. An iconic building for modernist architecture and prominent space for cultural production is to be replaced with a massive cultural complex that will host an opera house and exhibition center among other facilities, according to Turkey’s popular newspaper, Hürriyet Daily News.  

Atatürk Kültür Merkezi under demolition, March 2018. Wikicommons/MHIRM. Some rights reserved. 

Atatürk Cultural Center (Atatürk Kültür Merkezi in Turkish and AKM in short) was an important example of 1960s’ architecture and a physical focal point in Taksim Square in the Beyoğlu district, a major transport hub where crossroads connect the various multicultural neighborhoods of Istanbul. The square gives onto Istiklal Street, a street long synonymous with social and cultural events, eateries, bars, pubs, and entertainment around the clock. Being a popular spot for more than a century, it went through several architectural changes in its lifetime. 

Atatürk Cultural Center in Taksim quarter of Istanbul, Turkey, 2007. Wikicommons/ Chapultepec. Some rights reserved. 

Besides its architectural and topographical value, the AKM is considered a Republican project, a symbol of the Turkish modernism that aimed to westernize the country’s cultural life. It was no coincidence that the building was named after Atatürk in 1978, having  survived a fire that accompanied one of the peak moments of political polarization and violence. A number of institutes, departments and buildings in Turkey are named after him, which might be also seen as a statement, especially when (or where) the nation-state as such, democracy, and most of all, secularism are under challenge. Traditionally, these public buildings and sites are decorated with Turkish flags and Atatürk posters on national days. 

AKM, 2004. Wikicommons/ Bryce Edwards. Some rights reserved. 

The first president of the modern Republic of Turkey, Mustafa Kemal Atatürk (1881-1938), is considered more than a mere national hero. When the Ottoman Empire was falling apart after the First World War, he was the leader of a national movement and succeeded in establishing a nation-state of a modern and secular character, taking a clear distance from all religious influences. The last step certainly was not favored by all, however, public and private efforts remained strong for decades to come in maintaining a repressive hegemony around this legacy. There was unquestioned, constant exposure to his legacy in every corner of daily life.
Following his rigorous secular agenda is considered by many to be the true way to maintain Turkey’s democracy. This replacement of religion by a quasi-sacred secularism, embodied in Atatürk, became a cult that was even protected by law against any insult. Such democracy came at the expense of repressive measures on freedom of speech, freedom of association, and the right to education, among other systematic violations of human rights of people who were found not to be secular enough – and also towards those who were not Turkish, heterosexual, white etc. enough. Several incidents in the 1990s, such as the ban on the veil in public institutions and universities, and the imprisonment of Erdoğan in 1998, then mayor of Istanbul, for inciting religious hatred through reading a poem, are still fresh in the living memory of Turks. When Erdoğan left prison and made his way to the parliament in 2002, many felt that secularism, synonymous to democracy in Turkey for decades, was at stake. When the AKM came onto the government’s radar, it was also suspected that Erdoğan wanted to erase Atatürk’s secular legacy from Taksim Square, a location that had served as a showcase on various occasions. The government’s move to pursue a long-existing idea of building a mosque in the square further supported this suspicion.
The plans to demolish the building began to be conceived as early as 2005 and were soon joined by several other urban transformation projects. The plan received considerable public criticism, claiming that the political and cultural legacy of AKM was more important than its material value. Several art and architecture platforms and grassroots organizations came together to start a legal process, which only succeeded in slowing down the overall project. Shut down and evacuated in 2008, AKM stayed unused for a decade. The demolishing work began on February 13, 2018 and President Erdoğan announced the date of inauguration of the new building as early 2019, while identifying those who were against the project as terrorists: “…Those Gezi protestors also yelled against this. You can yell as much as you want. Eat your hearts out! Rant and rave, (but) we demolished it.” It is no secret that Turkey’s president often adopts an angry tone, but one may still wonder quite what the building has to do with a social movement that started as a sit-in protest aimed at protecting a few trees in Gezi Park. 

The Gezi movement Before growing into one of the biggest social movements in modern Turkish political history, the Gezi movement, or Gezi in short, initiated as a small resistance with an environmental aim: to prevent Gezi Park, right next to the AKM, from turning into a shopping mall. From the first day of the protests, May 28, 2013 until the first week of September, approximately 3.6 million people joined the protests in the streets, participating in 5,532 actions in 80 provinces out of 81, according to official reports.
Clashes with the police left more than 10 dead and thousands injured. Failure of the mainstream media to properly cover the protests resulted in protesters finding alternative ways to communicate and reach out. A dramatic increase in social media subscription numbers was followed by creative practices and interactions filled with humor, satire, and irony, which were unprecedented in this country’s annals of collective activism. The movement stood against the transformation of Gezi Park into another in that series of massive urban projects that pose a threat to environment and neglect the intangible values of the asset. The AKM was certainly on the list as well. As a familar showcase, the facade of the AKM was soon to be singled out for attention (and decorated) by the Gezi activists. 

Screenshot detail of posters, banners and flags on AKM building, 7 June 2013. Wikicommons/ Infestor. Some rights reserved. 

This photograph tells us a lot about the composition and the atmosphere of the Gezi movement. In addition to the urban and environmental issues, the movement sported a great diversity in the motivations of participants, varying from women’s rights to LGBTQI issues, from worker’s rights to Internet bans. A major concern also crystallized around the deterioration of the secular state and popular belief in the government’s growing tendency towards involving religious values in politics.
The first banner, which is top centre in the image reads BOYUN EĞME (meaning “do not bow down” in Turkish), and was placed on AKM’s facade on June 2, shortly after the start of the protests in Gezi Park. Several other banners quickly followed this first one and gave the building a colorful look. BOYUN EĞME is the title of the weekly magazine of the Turkish Communist Party, although the title itself and the visual features of the banner (a red brush effect on a white background with text in black and white font) do not reveal much about the party identity for an average viewer with untrained eyes.
But it was a privilege to be placed top centre as the first-comer, and obviously it had to share the spot with a Turkish flag and Atatürk’s poster portrait. Another flag in the centre of the facade, is joined by one on the rooftop right. These were probably arranged arbitrarily or due to the practicalities of fixing banners. The rest of the composition is an odd but straightforward depiction of how unusual people rubbed against each other, shoulder to shoulder at Gezi. A photo of Didier Drogba, an Ivorian football player, then playing for Galatasaray football club, soon joined the collection, placed right under the banner of ÇARŞI, which is the ultra group of Beşiktaş. It read in English: “We have Drogba, they don’t!” Both clubs, as well as Fenerbahçe, were well-known to be eternal foes. However, the prominent presence and friendly collaboration of all three in the protest actions, and their humorous posts on social media attracted thousands, regardless of team affiliation.
Another easily recognizable face is of Deniz Gezmiş (1947-1972), who was a political activist sentenced to death for attempting to overthrow the constitutional order, after engaging in armed struggle. Images of some other martyrs of the political left and renowned figures such as Marx, Stalin, and Lenin are also on the facade, along with banners of several other grassroots initiatives and groups with slogans such as “shut up tayyip!” (addressing Erdoğan by his second name). One banner added later read “Don’t Touch Mor Gabriel!” (aiming to protect an Assyrian monastery in the city of Mardin from being confiscated by the government), joining calls that invited the Government to resign and trade unions to go on strike, and demands for women’s rights. A number of banners are written in Kurdish or Turkish/Kurdish bilingual.
When compared to all the other protest actions that have taken place in Turkey, the number and size of images of Atatürk and the Turkish flag must be regarded as modest. These two visual elements were extremely high profile in earlier protests and demonstrations, especially those concerned with secularism. The photograph of the facade shows that besides being “safe symbols” to represent democracy, secularism, and national identity, both the Turkish flag and Atatürk’s poster were only a small part of the mosaic that constituted Gezi. Indeed, a number of groups that participated and supported Gezi were considered antipathetic to these two visual items. In this sense, while raising a strong voice against the deterioration of human rights over the previous 11 years under the same party government, Gezi did not favour the old paradigm either. It did not demand a democracy enforced through rigorous secularism. This was a particular strength of the movement, emerging as a new collective demand on the political scene of Turkey, taking no particular sides in the conventional secular/non-secular divide in that society, despite the fact that a fair proportion of its participants were secular. 

Across borders and boundariesThe AKM facade, along with the overall imagery of the movement, was a visual statement of the multiplicity of identities, demands, and hopes. Gezi was home to an exciting companionship of erstwhile foes, where all looked for ways to coexist and collaborate. Even if it did not always work, a determined collective effort to transgress the long-standing borders of social divides, such as class, ethnicity, religion etc. was evident. 

AKM after police intervention, June 2013. Barış Karadeniz/Flickr. Cropped from the original. Some rights reserved. 

Gezi Park stayed occupied for more than two weeks, while the protesters created an environment of festive solidarity, where many cultural and artistic activities took place. A day before it was evacuated by force, the police also charged the AKM building and took the banners down. The facade was quickly dressed with Turkish flags and a large poster of Atatürk, not a favorite figure in the eyes of the government by then. It was an attempt to give the square a “safe and normal” look, but more thn this, a reluctant concession to soften secular indignation.
In the aftermath of the evacuation of the park, activists continued to gather in the neighborhood parks throughout the summer of 2013, holding more discussions andplanning further local initiatives. However, soon afterwards, several participants in Gezi and the movement itself were suddenly accused of being associated with a newly-identified terror organization named FETO (Fethullahist Terror Organization). Fethullah Gülen, a US-based cleric of Turkish origin and a long-term ally of Erdoğan’s, was accused of committing a plot to overthrow the government by force and take control of the constitutional order.
Although a number of people faced arbitrary arrests and charges in this period, most of the solidary networks and grassroots initiatives that were established and/or grew bigger throughout the Gezi days are still functional today. Some of these have continued to voice their concerns regarding the hazards of urban transformation projects, including the demolition of the AKM building. When Erdoğan assumed presidential office in 2014, there was no expectation that tensions would cool down. However, these voices found little purchase in the mainstream media, as the country descended into political turmoil, punctuated by a series of violent attacks and the imprisonment of politicians of opposing parties, as well as activists and journalists. Soon, Turkey was to be hit by another major incident. 

Coup attempt changes politicsOn the evening of July 15, 2016, the country was shaken by a military coup threat. Erdoğan called for mass resistance through a live video conference connection on the news and immediately found a response. Thousands of people, mostly either AKP local branch members or simply sympathizers of the party, took to the streets and risked their lives to stop the military advance. Several hours of clashes left more than 300 dead and long-lasting damage to the country.
When the threat was over and the soldiers surrendered, more people took to the streets with Turkish flags to celebrate. The morning after, enthusiastic crowds in streets and squares rejoiced in the victory of people over military firepower, while many others  mourned the loss of life. FETO was soon blamed for the attempt and the government declared a state of emergency. The AKM building was quickly dressed again, this time most probably by a pro-government group. 

Screenshot twitter. AKM after military coup attempt. Courtesy of Alev Scott. All rights reserved. 

A banner on the AKM facade, accompanied by two Erdoğan portraits read: “(You) FETO (Gülen), the dog of Satan, we will hang you and your dogs by your own leash. With God’s will, we’ll have the flag of democracy flutter in the sky.” The signature in the bottom line said: “The brave men of this beloved nation.” The photograph of this hateful banner was swiftly and widely circulated  in social media with an additional upper script: “Let the Gezists, who claim Taksim their stronghold, see a (real) banner.” The belief (and propaganda) that the Gezi movement had been incited by FETO only became stronger after the coup attempt, while the discontent around Erdoğan and his government was also growing. Now the banner marked a shift from the long-existing secular/non-secular tension into a new decisive division in Turkish society, between supporters of Erdoğan and his opponents, including Gezi activists and FETO supporters among others.
It is not common practice for public buildings to feature the portraits of presidents, apart from those of Atatürk, regarded as the founding father. But this now seems to be part of the ongoing efforts to build a cult around Erdoğan’s personality that is to compete with that of Atatürk: an omnipresent and omnipotent leader, whose single-handed guidance helps the nation to thrive. So, the visual presence of Atatürk and his iconography has been slowly vanishing, as Erdoğan’s, at least partially, takes over.
The banner, threatening FETO, stayed on display for two days before it was replaced with a massive Turkish flag, covering the overall facade of AKM and bearing the firm message: “Sovereignty Belongs to the Nation.” 

 

The phrase, an Atatürk quote, has spawned an article in the Turkish Constitution since 1921 and it is written on the main wall of the parliament. Although the original phrase was in Ottoman Turkish, it was translated into modern Turkish within years. The selection of wording on the flag is a simplified Ottoman version, a version frequently used by Erdoğan himself. The flag was not any more in its Gezi context, a single component of its diversity, and was not even used in a relatively modest way next to an image of Atatürk. Küçük and Türkmen observe that this is a symbol of the etent to which a mixture of religiosity and nationalism has come to penetrate and occupy all sections of social and political life. The AKM facade, once claimed by Gezi activists as a public space to acknowledge diversity and coexistence, has been usurped in the name of a particular section of the society.
Now, Erdoğan urged people to flood the squares and start democracy watches, emulating the organised sit-ins of Gezi and other Occupy movements. Certain scenes such as the occupation of squares with tents, the organization of culture and art events, and marriages taking place during the watches reminded everyone of Gezi and other protest events as well. However, they lacked the collective decision-making and practice mechanisms and remained government-controlled performances tsow 'our' strength against the archenemies: foreign powers, terrorists, FETO and its alleged extension, Gezi.
The democracy watches came to an end upon Erdoğan’s suggestion after a few weeks, but the state of emergency continued for a period of two years, solidifying Erdoğan’s executive powers as president. Societal polarization and indignation was skillfully managed into an exacerbated state of fear, terror and instability. The usual division of the society across a secular/non-secular axis was upgraded into a religious nationalism embodied within the new cult of Erdoğan. This embodiment eventually laid the grounds for constitutional change in 2017 towards a presidential system, and for Erdoğan to win the elections in 2018.    

ConclusionThe state of emergency was lifted shortly after the presidential elections, and a new system secured a permanent state of exception, whereby Erdoğan, as president, has consolidated and expanded his administrative powers. Denouncing those who opposed the demolition of AKM and the Gezi protesters as "terrorists" was a reminder of his power and commitment to smash any  dissent.
The struggle over the AKM reveals one permanent aspect of political contention in contemporary Turkey, formed traditionally through leader-embodied ideologies. Meanwhile, solidarity networks and grass-roots initiatives promise today more ways to communicate and interact than ever. These may one day inspire our thinking and acting beyond the usual paradigms.

Are governments supporting or controlling religion?

How do we know governments are controlling or supporting religion? Same laws and actions can be used for controlling religion as for supporting religion. For example, a government can give money to religious schools to impose curriculum of its choice (controlling religion) or to promote the majority religion (supporting religion). Similarly, a government can take control of religious endowments to make them more efficient and to use their funds for repair/maintenance of religious sites (supporting religion) or to dry the main source of funding for independent clerics, thus allow its (paid) clerics to dominate the religious discourse (controlling religion). Jonathan Fox, one of the leading scholars working on the state-religion relationships, argues that it is difficult to be definite about it as it is almost impossible to be certain of a government leader's motivations for a particular (in)action (See his talk on Political secularism, religion and the state).

In some cases, however, the primary motivator is not ambiguous. Because of their Marxist-Leninist ideology, anti-religious rhetoric of the leadership and repression of all religions in public sphere, one can safely assume that the Communist governments try to control religion. Consider the Soviet Union, for example. Lenin wrote against religion and called it a spiritual booze as well as opium (like Marx), probably because, in the early 20th century Russia, booze was much more popular than opium. (See Socialism and Religion: Lenin)

Religion is one of the forms of spiritual oppression which everywhere weighs down heavily upon the masses of the people, over burdened by their perpetual work for others, by want and isolation. Impotence of the exploited classes in their struggle against the exploiters just as inevitably gives rise to the belief in a better life after death as impotence of the savage in his battle with nature gives rise to belief in gods, devils, miracles, and the like. Those who toil and live in want all their lives are taught by religion to be submissive and patient while here on earth, and to take comfort in the hope of a heavenly reward. But those who live by the labour of others are taught by religion to practice charity while on earth, thus offering them a very cheap way of justifying their entire existence as exploiters and selling them at a moderate price tickets to well-being in heaven. Religion is opium for the people. Religion is a sort of spiritual booze,   in which the slaves of capital drown their human image, their demand for a life more or less worthy of man.

Moreover, there were anti-religious campaigns in the Soviet Union. These campaigns included damaging churches, murdering of priests and other acts of violence and suppression; these actions cannot be construed as supporting religion in any way  (See Russian orthodox church). 

By 1918 the government had nationalized all church property, including buildings. In the first five years of the Soviet Union (1922-26), twenty-eight Russian Orthodox bishops and more than 1,200 priests were executed, and many others were persecuted. Most seminaries were closed, and publication of most religious material was prohibited. The next quarter-century saw surges and declines in arrests, enforcement of laws against religious assembly and activities, and harassment of clergy. Antireligious campaigns were directed at all faiths; beginning in the 1920s, Buddhist and Shamanist places of worship in Buryatia, in the Baikal region, were destroyed, and their lamas and priests were arrested (a practice that continued until the 1970s). The League of the Militant Godless, established in 1925, directed a nationwide campaign against the Orthodox Church and all other organized religions. The extreme position of that organization eventually led even the Soviet government to disavow direct connection with its practices. In 1940 an estimated 30,000 religious communities of all denominations survived in all the Soviet Union, but only about 500 Russian Orthodox parishes were open at that time, compared with the estimated 54,000 that had existed before World War I.

Similarly, in case of many assertive or aggressive secular states with a strong anti-clericalism bent, like France and Turkey in the early 20th century, it is clear that the motivation is that of control, not the promotion of religion. Following is an excerpt of Ataturk's speech from the early days of the Turkish Republic:

Gentlemen and Great Nation! Know it well that the Turkish Republic cannot be a country of sheikhs, dervishes, disciples and lunatics. The correct road is the road of civilization.

And a paragraph about the de-Christianization campaign of early days of revolutionary France (See Religion, Society and Politics in France since 1789, page 1):

During the course of the year II much of France was subjected to a campaign of dechristianization, the aim of which was the eradication of Catholic religious practice, and Catholicism itself. The campaign, which was at its most intense in the winter and spring of 1793-94, but which began as early as the summer of 1793 in some regions, and continued after the fall of Robespierre in August 1794 in a few areas, comprised a number of different activities. These ranged from the removal of plate, statues and other fittings from the places of worship, the destruction of crosses, bells, shrines and other ‘external signs of worship’, the closure of churches, the enforced abdication and occasionally, the marriage of constitutional priests, the substitution of a Revolutionary calendar for the Gregorian one, the alteration of personal and place names which had any ecclesiastical connotations to more suitably Revolutionary ones, through to the promotion of new cults, notably those of Reason and one Supreme Being.

Perhaps one clue to solve this puzzle is the attitude and behavior of governing elite. If they show respect to religious symbols and try to demonstrate that they are not against religion, then they are supporting religion. The operative word here is 'demonstrate.' The elite in almost all countries will claim that they are not against religion; they are only against a particular 'subversive' version of it. However, if their behavior shows they are against religion, then most probably they are controlling religion, not supporting it.  

Muslim yearning for caliphate and ISIS caliphate

ISIS (The Islamic State of Iraq and al-Sham) or ISIL (The Islamic State of Iraq and the Levant) has declared itself a Caliphate and named its leader as Caliph of all Muslims. The group spokesman said:

He is the imam and khalifah (Caliph) for the Muslims everywhere.......Accordingly, the "Iraq and Sham" (Levant) in the name of the Islamic State is henceforth removed from all official deliberations and communications, and the official name is the Islamic State from the date of this declaration.......It is incumbent upon all Muslims to pledge allegiance to (him) and support him...The legality of all emirates, groups, states, and organizations, becomes null by the expansion of the khalifah's authority and arrival of its troops to their areas.( See ISIS Declares Islamic 'Caliphate' And Calls On Groups To Pledge Allegiance)

Powerful words indeed. While president of Indonesia or Prime Minister of Pakistan, democratically elected leaders of around 200 million Muslims, would find it difficult to call themselves caliph of around 1.5 billion Muslims, ISIS leader Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi, commander of fewer than fifteen thousand fighters, has claimed the coveted title. As Al-Qaida's rejection of ISIS shows, al-Baghdadi is not even an accepted leader of militant,trans-national, anti-West extremist Muslims in Iraq or Syria.  

Huff post quotes John Esposito, one of the most eminent scholars of Islam in the West, defining Caliphate in the following way (See What Is A Caliphate? ISIS Declaration Raises Questions) :

Historically, the caliph was the successor to the prophet, the political leader of the community, and therefore the head of the early transnational Islamic empire. That's important -- the idea of it being a transnational empire, that reflected the ummah, and transcended national boundaries.

Does it matter that al-Baghdadi has declared himself caliph? Some have argued that now more Muslim militants would be attracted to him. Fair point. But others have argued that this might be a disastrous outreach (See Jihadis in Iraq and Syria declare a caliphate? Why that's good).

Yesterday's declaration of a caliphate by the leading jihadi army in Iraq and Syria – and its demand that Muslims swear oaths of fealty to its leader – could prove the most disastrous piece of jihadi overreach since Al Qaeda in Iraq's routine use of torture and beheadings spurred a Sunni Arab backlash in 2006. 

The formerly Al Qaeda-linked jihadis are generally reported as going from strength to strength in Iraq, taking and holding cities like Mosul and Tikrit from the central government. But the success of the uprising in Iraq in the past month has rested heavily on the backs of Sunni Arab tribes and former Baathists with formal military training. And the grandiose announcement – a telegraphed intent to impose a harsh and regressive vision of Islam on as much territory as possible – is unlikely to make them happy.

I personally think this announcement does not matter much. Does al-Baghdadi become more legitimate or get more recruits? Some recruits but not much else. ISIS is a like a fringe of a fringe. Al-Baghdadi is a brutal callous killer and it is difficult to find many Muslims, except for the militants, giving his message any serious thought. As an NPR reporter described, even in his own country Iraq, he is considered a nut job. Most of the Muslim probably do not know who he is and those, who have heard of him, would most likely try to keep as much distance from him as possible. In conclusion, ISIS caliphate has not changed much on the ground or elsewhere. As Juan Cole explains in his brief history of Caliphate, hundreds of fringe groups have been claiming caliphate for probably more than a thousand years (See The Debacle of the Caliphates: Why al-Baghdadi’s Grandiosity doesn’t Matter).

What is a more interesting question is why Caliphate still mesmerizes many Muslims today. Why pine for a medieval government/empire? 

Nowadays, the Caliphate has captured the imagination of many Muslims worldwide mainly because they are concerned about the abject condition of the Muslim Ummah today. Despite a plethora of resources and around fifty independent Muslim-majority states in the world, Muslims are followers/lackeys, not leaders. Decisions about Muslims and Muslim-majority states are made by others in Washington, Moscow or Beijing and Muslim leaders (with a few exceptions) kowtow to these capitals, instead of charting their own independent course for the benefit of their own people.

Many Muslim relate these circumstances to the lack of unity among Muslims and hark back to the times when Muslims were successful and leading the world. It is commonly believed that under the erstwhile caliphate, Muslims were united as one nation, within one political state and that was why they were so successful. There is also the notion that caliphate is blessed by Allah. Many Muslims, therefore, desire a new caliphate so that there would be an Islamic renaissance and Islamic civilization would reach another apogee by the blessings of Allah. The message of Hizb-ul-Tahrir, one of the most prominent organizations trying to establish caliphate (Khilafah) today, shows the allied themes of current humiliation; success in the past; and renaissance under a new caliphate (See Hizb-e-Tahrir: About us)

Hizb ut-Tahrir is determined to work within the Ummah in order to implement Islam and achieve its objective by endeavouring to gain the leadership of the Islamic Ummah so that she could accept it as her leader, to implement Islam upon her and proceed with it in her struggle against the Kuffar and in the work towards the return of the Islamic State as it was before, the leading superpower in the world.....

The rise of Hizb ut-Tahrir was in response to Allah (swt)’s saying: T.M.Q. “And let there arise from amongst you a band that calls to the good and commands what is right and forbids what is evil and those are the ones who will attain felicity.” in order to revive the Islamic Ummah after the severe decline to which she has sunk, to liberate her from the thoughts, systems and rules of Kufr, its systems and from the hegemony and influence of the Kufr states,  and  in order to work towards establishing the Islamic Khilafah State so that the rules by what Allah (swt) has revealed returns to the realm of life.

While not denying that erstwhile caliphate was a big Muslim state and a big Muslim state now would probably be more powerful than numerous small Muslim states, the notion that all Muslims were united under caliphate is historically not true. Muslims were only under one caliphate for a quarter of a century during the time of first three Rasidun Caliphs and then again for some decades under Umayyads. The whole period of one united caliphate is less than one century compared to more than thirteen centuries of many Muslim states/caliphates constituting the Muslim ummah. So thinking that just because there is a caliphate, Muslims are united under it, is false.   

Ottoman Sultan and Caliph Suleiman, the magnificent (1494 - 1566)

Source: Poetic Voices of the Muslim World

Linking the glory of Islam/Muslims with caliphate is also problematic. It can be true, partially true or false depending on how glory is defined. Is it the military success or the social development or the cultural refinement or the control over maximum territory? In terms of military successes, united caliphate of the seventh century is unparalleled in Muslim history. However, the height of (comparative) social development and cultural refinement was achieved by the Muslims in the times of early Abbasids when the caliph ruled majority of Muslims but not all Muslims. There were many independent Muslim emirs/king/rulers, alongside Abbasid caliphate. Comparing Muslim history on the basis of territory under control, probably 16th and 17th centuries can be considered the height of Islamic grandeur, a time of more than dozen Muslim states/empires (not one united caliphate). 

As Dr Muhammad Iqbal (poet par excellence,  Muslim philosopher and one of the founding fathers of Pakistan) wrote supporting the decision of Ataturk to abolish caliphate, for most of its history caliphate has worked more as an empire than as an Islamic state. Therefore, its religious sanction is doubtful, to say the least:  

In its essence Islam is not Imperialism. In the abolition of the Caliphate which since the days of Omayyads had practically become a kind of Empire it is only the spirit of Islam that has worked out through the Ataturk. In order to understand the Turkish Ijtihad in the matter of the Caliphate we cannot but seek the guidance of Ibn-i-Khaldun—the great philosophical historian of Islam, and the father of modern history. I can do no better than quote here a passage from my Reconstruction:

Ibn-i-Khaldun, in his famous Prolegomena, mentions three distinct views of the idea of Universal Caliphate in Islam: (1) That Universal Imamate is a Divine institution and is consequently indispensable. (2) That it is merely a matter of expediency. (3) That there is no need of such an institution. The last view was taken by the Khawarij, the early republicans of Islam. It seems that modern Turkey has shifted from the first to the second view, i.e., to the view of the Muttazilla who regarded Universal Imamate as a matter of expediency only. The Turks argue that in our political thinking we must be guided by our past political experience which points unmistakably to the fact that the idea of Universal Imamate has failed in practice. It was a workable idea when the Empire of Islam was intact. Since the break-up of this Empire independent political units have arisen. The idea has ceased to be operative and cannot work as a living factor in the organization of modern Islam.

  

         

Rising Religious Nationalism in Turkey

It has been argued that Turkish nationalism has three different strands: civic nationalism based on Turkish constitution; ethnolinguistic nationalism based on Turkish language and ethnicity; and religious nationalism based on Sunni Islam. Mustafa Kemal Ataturk, the founder of Turkey, mainly meandered between the first two types. He tried to bring all groups living in Turkey together and develop an inclusive nationalism based on his modernist rhetoric. But he also promoted Turkish language and Turkish ethnicity and supported research that tried to promote Turks as the group that brought civilization to other groups in the world. To add to the complexity, despite his aggressive secularism, modernism and persecution of Islamic groups, Ataturk (and his allies) implicitly supported Sunni Islam as one of the markers of Turkish identity. So, it is not difficult to find support for all three strands of Turkish nationalism in the founding fathers' decisions and early day of Turkish Republic.

A book that discusses the three strands of Turkish nationalism

Source: The Top Hat, the Grey Wolf, and the Crescent: Turkish Nationalism and the Turkish Republic

The above discussion should, however, not be construed as proclaiming the equal importance of all three strands. Civic nationalism was dominant in the early 1920s but this period did not last long. Ataturk imagined a socially engineered nation out of the motley of groups present in Turkey. The state told the people how they should speak; how they should dress; how they should pray; how they should write; and even what they should call themselves. People were forced to accept these edicts and not surprisingly many rebelled, especially those who lived on the margins of Turkish society, away from the main Anatolian heartland. Kurds and Alevis took part in these rebellions and bore the brunt of an increasingly repressive response from the Turkish state. Ethnic nationalism became dominant as the state decided to suppress any kind of individuality, whether it was ethnic, linguistic or religious. There was only one nation in Turkey and its characteristics were determined by the state. These characteristics were obviously much closer to what the dominant group (ethnic Turks) had or believed in. So, minority ethnic groups, minority religion and minority sects all lost their constitutional and legal freedoms. This situation continued till the late 1970s and resulted in much polarization, instability, and violence. Left-wing/communist and right-wing nationalist paramilitaries fought each other in all regions of Turkey, with almost twenty fatalities each day.  This made the state or deep state (as the powerful military establishment was called) realize that they cannot control all the societal fissures and resulting violence.

The military took direct control in 1980 through a coup and decided to make changes. To decrease the support of communism and left, it was decided to increase religious education and to accept it part of Turkish identity. However, the public role of religion was still abhorrent and more restrictions were introduced such as the ban on hijab in public universities. Despite these restrictions, this era is remembered as the start of religious nationalism in Turkey. Sunni Islam was always an implicit marker of Turkish national identity but after the 1980s, it started becoming more explicit. This change was called the 'Turkish-Islam Synthesis'. As William Armstrong writes in Hurriyat (See The Rise of Political Islam in Turkey)       

The Turkish-Islamic Synthesis was originally formulated by the right-wing nationalist Intellectual Hearths (Aydınlar Ocakları) in the 1970s, but after the 1980 coup it rose to become the de facto state ideology. In practice, this meant more than just General Kenan Evren reciting Quranic verses during public speeches. It also meant huge budget increases for the Religious Affairs Directorate, rapid building of new mosques and opening of Quran courses, the introduction of mandatory religion classes in state schools (only on Sunni Islam), more tolerance for religious bureaucrats, active encouragement of religious organizations, and a widening of opportunities for graduates of religious imam hatip high schools.

Military hoped to manipulate Islam without letting it go out of its control but the socialization of masses in a religious environment, supported and funded by the state itself, led to changes beyond military's  imagination. Merton's law of unintended consequences came into play and Sunni Islam gradually became a very important part of the Turkish identity. Right-wing and Left-wing parties gradually gave way to the winning of election by an Islamist party in 1996. Although that party was forced out by the military within a year, the power of religious nationalism continued to grow due to increase in Islamic-oriented media, foundations and businesses. Eventually, AK Party, whose leadership had been trained in Islamist parties, came to power.

AK Party (Freedom and Justice Party) win brought the reformed Islamists to power. They claimed to be like Christian conservative parties of the Western Europe and pledged to work with the secular establishment, consisting of the President, judiciary and the military. Although, in their initial years, AKP didn't take an overtly religious step, the very presence of AKP at the helm gave confidence to media, educational institutions and businesses run by the religious Anatolian Turks. Good economic management helped AKP win elections repeated eventually controlling the presidency, judiciary and military.

Religious nationalism implies that national identity is now based on religion. This logically means that religion is now not only a personal matter (between a person and her God or gods) but a matter of law and state. Therefore, who is a (true) member of the state religion becomes a big issue. Tellingly, defining a true Muslim is a big issue in Turkey now. While there is hope that Kurdish issue (which is mainly an ethnolinguistic issue) will be resolved soon, Alevi issue is raising its head. The state defines Islam to include Alevis as deviant Sunni Muslims but Alevis consider themselves as members of different sect/religion. Everybody from Prime Minister to opposition leaders to religious leaders is weighing in (See What does Erdogan mean by 'Alevis without Ali'?)

Moreover, there is fighting between AKP and Gulanists, followers of an influential preacher Fethullah Gulen, one-time allies of the AKP. The witch-hunts and inquisitions mean that religious nationalism is rising (See Turkey’s intra-Islamic witch hunt).