For years, Turkey has been the West’s great hope.
For years, Turkey has been the West’s great hope. It is a Muslim democracy and loyal Nato member, ally in the war on terror and living rejection of the idea of a clash of civilisations. We flattered ourselves that it was keen to join the European Union so it could further ‘modernise’ — by which we meant westernise. As Turkey became richer, so we imagined, it would become a more moderate and a dependable ally of the free world.
It is now clear that this was a fundamental misjudgment. Turkey is indeed growing richer, but the extra wealth is only lubricating its slide towards extremism. Its military links with Israel, so long a defining feature of its pro-western foreign policy, were spectacularly ended a fortnight ago after the Israeli Defence Force raided a flotilla bound for Gaza and nine Turks were killed. Since then, the anti-Israeli rhetoric of Recep Erdogan, Turkey’s Prime Minister since 2003, has only encouraged the country’s shift towards an anti-western position.
It is tempting to blame Erdogan for the change, and dismiss him as a wild card. But his success (reinforced by his 2007 re-election) reflects a profound transformation in Turkish identity. Economic growth has empowered the provincial middle class, at the expense of the secular elites who once ruled in Istanbul.
After decades of staying out of Middle Eastern politics, Turkey is emerging not just as a player but an agitator. It is warming to the idea of a politically united ‘Muslim world’. Last year, about a third of the Turkish population wanted to join the EU — down sharply from four fifths when Erdogan took office. Over the last decade, the number of Turks defining themselves as Muslim has risen by 10 per cent, while half of the country describes itself as Islamist.

Comments
Join the debate for just $5 for 3 months
Be part of the conversation with other Spectator readers by getting your first three months for $5.
UNLOCK ACCESS Just $5 for 3 monthsAlready a subscriber? Log in