Turkey and the War on Terror

'For Forty Years We Fought Alone'

Andrew Mango

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2005
• eBook ISBN: 9781134269952
• Edition: 1
• Topic: History
• Subtopic: Middle Eastern History
• Index: History

Since the 1970s, Turkey has suffered 35, 000 deaths through terrorism, yet the PKK terror group was only recognized as such by the European Union in 2002.

The realization that terrorism poses a world-wide threat is now forcing a keen reassessment of the struggle which Turkey has had to wage with terror for over thirty years while the world looked on. Terror is clearly now a key part of the international agenda and this authoritative account details and establishes the Turkish experience.

This chronological account of terrorist attacks inside Turkey and against Turkish targets outside the country, places them in the global setting.

This book will be of great interest to all students and scholars of international relations, terrorism and security studies.

1
TERROR DECLARES WAR ON TURKEY

The first achievement of the Turkish Republic was to establish law and order in a country where lawlessness and brigandage had been endemic. One can even say that law and order were the precondition for the establishment of the republic. Speaking to journalists on January 16, 1923, some eight months before the republic was proclaimed, Mustafa Kemal Atatürk, the founding father of the new state, said:

I believe that the overriding aim of domestic policy should be to establish order, security and discipline in the country. My latest enquiries have shown that … the level of order and security in the country is very high. Except for a couple of political bands–which have appeared and have been struck down recently–there have been no incidents. Even ordinary crime is decreasing.¹

Public order was disturbed sporadically when Atatürk began implementing his reforms. Secularisation which ended religious interference in public policy was resisted by conservatives. Tribes and provincial strongmen resisted control by a modern state. Atatürk himself escaped an assassination attempt in İzmir in 1926. Atatürk’s reforms amounted to a cultural revolution. Opposition to it had to be overcome if Turkey was to become a modern state. But as far as revolutions go, its cost in lives was small. Some violent incidents occurred on the periphery, but the main metropolitan areas remained peaceful. The most serious incidents took place in tribal areas. In 1925, a local religious leader, Şeyh Sait, raised a revolt in the south-east. His rebellion followed the abolition of the caliphate and was mainly religious in inspiration. But it had three other ingredients: nascent Kurdish nationalism, tribal resistance to central authority and inter-tribal rivalry. Some of the tribes helped the state put down the rebellion.

Much has been written about the Kurdish question in Turkey.² It is more accurate to call it the problem posed by Kurdish nationalism and, in particular, separatist nationalism. People of Kurdish origin are no more of a problem than citizens of other ethnic origins in Turkish society. The nationalism of Atatürk and of his successors in the government of Turkey has been predominantly civic and territorial, and not ethnic. The Turkish Republic has been inspired by the French model of a unitary state built round a single national culture and with a single official language. The constitution defines a Turk as a citizen of the Turkish Republic, irrespective of religion and ethnic origin. This corresponds to the reality of Turkish society in which people from a variety of backgrounds live together, work together and intermarry. The Turkish Republic has thus extended to all its citizens the Ottoman tradition of an undivided community of Muslims. Separatist nationalism threatens the social harmony which the Republic has always sought to promote.

The suppression of the Şeyh Sait rebellion was followed by less serious outbreaks in the east of the country. By the time Atatürk died in 1938, on the eve of World War II, domestic peace had been restored. The Republic had mastered the rebellions with comparative ease, first, because it enjoyed the overwhelming support of its citizens and, second, because the rebels had failed to mobilise foreign support. True, Kurdish nationalist politicians were to be found in Syria and Iraq, from where they tried to stir up trouble. But the mandatory powers, France and Britain, kept an eye on them, as they did not want to antagonise Turkey. Turkey had friendly relations with its other neighbours too. Thus, a minor frontier rectification agreed with Iran stopped rebel infiltration from that country.

After World War II, the introduction of free party politics and the consequent accession to power of the Democrat Party in 1950 ushered in a period of political turbulence as an accompaniment to rapid social and economic development. But until the end of the 1960s, terrorism did not figure among the many problems the country faced as it fought its way through a crisis of growth. When violence finally broke out, it drew its inspiration from the West, from the radicalism which had affected students in wealthier and, therefore, different societies.

Student troubles were the harbinger of the four waves of terrorism that were to strike Turkey from the late 1960s to our day.³ As student unrest spawned left-wing and right-wing ideological terrorism, a group of Armenian terrorist organisations launched a murderous campaign against Turkish diplomats worldwide. Then came the ethnic separatist terror of the PKK. Finally, the state had to deal with brutal religious fundamentalist groups, which, like the PKK, had their roots in the south-east of the country. All these terrorist activities had links with Middle Eastern terrorists and their sponsors. They sometimes acted in common. But of the four waves, Armenian terrorism was different in that it operated largely outside Turkey. It is, therefore, simpler to deal with it first, before tracing the history of terrorism, which also had strong foreign links, but struck at targets inside Turkey.

The murder of Turkish diplomats

The Armenian terrorist campaign which targeted Turkish diplomats and other soft targets, mainly outside Turkey, lasted for ten years, between 1975 and 1985. Several groups were involved, which sometimes overlapped and at other times competed with each other. The main ones were founded in Beirut in 1975.⁴ They were ASALA (Armenian Secret Army for the Liberation of Armenia) and JCAG (Justice Commandos of the Armenian Genocide). The latter was believed to be an offshoot of the old-established nationalist party Dashnaktsutiun (Armenian Revolutionary Federation), which was to enjoy a spell in power in independent Armenia after the breakup of the Soviet Union.

Armenian terrorists who murdered Turkish diplomats justified their action by declaring that they wanted to draw the attention of the world to the suffering of their people in 1915. Indeed hundreds of thousands of Armenians and also of Turks had perished that year and in subsequent years, as fears about the loyalty of the Armenian minority, many of whose members sympathised with the Russian armies advancing into Anatolia–fears that were fed by sporadic risings and subversive activities by nationalist Armenians behind Ottoman lines in World War I–prompted the Ottoman authorities to deport the Armenian population from the war area and the lines of communications leading to it. Why, however, did this campaign arise sixty years after the events it purported to avenge? Two answers suggest themselves.

The first relates to the behaviour of diasporas generally. The first generation of migrants is fully occupied establishing itself in its new home and earning a living. Where they are successful, subsequent generations have the leisure to ponder their identity. Some are content to leave the past behind; others want to rediscover their roots and, at the same time, stop their indifferent kinsmen from losing their communal identity. On the other hand, where the migrant community is unhappy or threatened, the past is all it has to cling to. One ASALA leader stated characteristically:

[Our] primary objectives are to introduce the Armenian cause to world public opinion, and make the world feel that there is a desolate people that lacks a homeland or identity, and to arouse the national feeling of the Armenian diaspora.⁵

In other words, the terrorists resorted to ‘propaganda of the deed’, as originally defined by the anarchists, in order to keep their community together, particularly where assimilation threatened to erode it.

The second reason for the rise of Armenian terrorism in 1975 was that civil war had caused a breakdown of authority in Lebanon and provided models for violent action. The Armenian community was caught in the middle of the Lebanese civil war. Originally the Armenians had taken the side of the dominant Christian Maronite community. But when the Maronites lost their hold on power, those Armenians who were inclined to violence sided with Palestinian militants. From the outset, ASALA was supported by the PLO, and particularly by its most radical faction PFLP (Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine), which had a Marxist ideological basis. Alliances were forged also with other terrorist organisations. Thus at a press conference in the south Lebanese town of Sidon in 1980, ASALA announced that it would co-operate with the Kurdish separatist PKK⁶ (about which later). Opportunity and predisposition came together to give birth to terrorism.

A third factor deserves mention. When the Israelis expelled the PLO from Beirut in September 1982, ASALA had to look for new logistical bases, and even new patrons. The Armenian community in France provided cover and support, while the French authorities kept their eyes averted, as has already been mentioned. But one also finds Armenian terrorists living in or transiting through Athens and Greek-administered Cyprus. It is hard to believe that authorities there were unaware of their activities.

The first two murders of Turkish diplomats were committed in January 1973 by an elderly Armenian loner, Gourgen Yanikian, who invited to a meal the Turkish consul general in Los Angeles and his assistant and then shot them dead in cold blood. Yanikian set the pattern which ASALA and other terrorist groups then followed.

On October 24, 1975, nine months after the establishment of ASALA, the Turkish ambassador in Paris was murdered together with his bodyguard. In subsequent years Turkish diplomats were assassinated in France again and again, and in many other countries–Austria, Greece, Holland, Spain, Switzerland, even as far as Australia. Serving diplomats were not the only victims. The wife of the Turkish ambassador was assassinated in Madrid in June 1978; the son of the Turkish ambassador in Holland was killed in October 1979. There were attacks also on Turkish Airlines and tourist offices in several countries. Armenian militants practised indiscriminate terror when they bombed Istanbul airport and railway station in May 1977 and Ankara airport in August 1982. Then came the bomb attack at Orly airport in Paris, which killed four Frenchmen, two Turks, an American and a Swede. The terrorists had overreached themselves. As the French authorities finally took action, Armenian terrorism tapered off. There were only another two serious incidents: an unsuccessful attack on the Turkish embassy in Lisbon in June 1983, and an attack on the Turkish embassy in Ottawa in March 1985, where the ambassador escaped, but a Canadian guard was killed. Had the action which followed the Orly outrage been taken more promptly, the tide of violence would have been stemmed earlier. As it was, 42 Turkish diplomats were assassinated in 110 incidents in 21 countries.

After Orly, ASALA split into two factions, one of which faded into insignificance. The other, led by Hagop Hagopian, whom even his associates called ‘the madman’, became a band of contract killers working closely with Arab terrorists.⁷ Hagopian was gunned down, significantly in Athens, in April 1988 in a mafia-like execution. At the time of his death, this Christian Armenian terrorist was carrying a South Yemeni passport in the name of ‘Abdul Muhammad’.

Armenian terrorism directed at Turkish civilian targets carried on for ten years because of the tolerant attitude of French and other foreign authorities. Thus a sentence of only thirty months in prison passed on the terrorist Abraham Tomassian for bombing the office of Turkish Airlines in the heart of Paris was an encouragement of, rather than a deterrent to, terrorism.⁸ Western press comments explaining the murder of innocent people in terms of an inter-communal conflict that had taken place 70 years earlier sought excuses for what was inexcusable.

Apart from its cost in human lives, the Armenian terror campaign carried a heavy financial cost, as Turkish premises had to be secured against attack. Millions of travellers were disturbed as security had to be increased in airports and aircraft.

ASALA tried to rewrite history with the bomb and the gun, but succeeded only in adding a new bloody chapter to it. Later, Armenian nationalists used Western parliaments in an absurd attempt to rewrite history by legislative process. These efforts were encouraged, if not inspired, by the government of independent Armenia which emerged from the ruins of the Soviet Union. Not surprisingly, the domestic politics of that small country also suffered from the gun: in October 1999, the prime minister Vazgen Sarkisian, his political ally Karen Demirchian, together with five other parliamentary deputies and one minister, were shot dead in parliament by five gunmen. A more militant leadership emerged intent on hanging on to the fifth of the total territory of neighbouring Azerbaijan which Armenians had occupied and from which a million or so Azeris were forced to flee. At the same time there were persistent reports that Armenian authorities extended discreet help to PKK terrorists.

This revival of national hatred as an instrument of policy has not benefited Armenia. While its territory has been enlarged, at least provisionally, at the expense of Azerbaijan, its population is reported to have halved to only two million,⁹ as its people emigrate in search of a better life. They could achieve that better life at home, if the Armenian government laid aside its preoccupation with revenge (and irredentism) and mended its fences with its neighbours.

Ideas that kill

If an example were needed of the closeness of Turkey to Europe, it could be found in the fact that in June 1968, barely a month after the student troubles in Paris, left-wing students occupied several faculties of Istanbul University, preventing end-of-year examinations.¹⁰ But underneath the surface, the motives of Turkish students differed from those of their Western counterparts. In the West, young romantics believed that they had taken up arms against the materialism of post-war reconstruction. In Turkey, it was the country’s under-development which angered the young. In fact, material conditions in Turkey had improved rapidly under the Democrat Party administration in the 1950s. However, as state revenues were inadequate to finance rapid development, the economy fell prey to inflation, and the country’s solvency could be sustained only with the help of foreign, mainly American, aid. But young militants found a different explanation for the country’s troubles in Marxist ideology which, for the first time in Turkey, could be propagated more or less freely under the auspices of the liberal constitution of 1961. Left-wing students became convinced, first, that only a socialist regime could ensure the rapid development of the economy, and second, that Turkey was being held back by, mainly American, imperialism, which wanted to keep the country as a dependency of the world capitalist system. Socialism did not commend itself to the Turkish electorate, and the Turkish Workers Party (TİP), which preached Marxist socialism, received less than 3 per cent of valid votes in the 1965 and 1969 elections. In the face of the electoral failure of their ideology, militants despaired of the parliamentary system.

Anti-imperialism had a greater appeal in a developing country like Turkey, which had in fact gained its independence by thwarting the designs of imperial great powers after World War I. After World War II, the Marxist assertion that imperialism is the last stage of capitalism provided a common language for a number of anti-colonial revolutionary movements in Algeria, Vietnam, Cuba and elsewhere. In Vietnam, after 1965, the main target was the United States which had intervened in order to prop up the government of South Vietnam. In Latin America, the United States was hostile to the revolution which brought Fidel Castro to power in Cuba in 1959 and was seen generally as the supporter of regimes which Marxist revolutionaries sought to overthrow. Castro and the Vietnamese Communists had made successful use of guerrilla warfare. Manuals explaining the use of this form of armed struggle and extolling its merits as an instrument of socialist revolution were written by such revolutionaries as the Vietnamese General Giap, Castro’s companion (and rival) Che Guevara and the Brazilian Marxist ideologist Carlos Marighela. These books were quickly translated into Turkish and read eagerly by left-wing militants.

Yet revolutionary anti-imperialism, particularly in its anti-American guise, had little relevance to Turkey. Unlike Latin America where ‘yanqui imperialism’ had long been a convenient scapegoat, Turkey had no tradition of anti-Americanism. Not only had America been considered a benevolent power during the Turkish War of Independence (1919–23), but after World War II its support had been enlisted to resist Soviet encroachment. This, of course, did not endear the United States to the handful of Moscow-line Marxists in Turkey. Other militants, who took their cue from Mao’s China, from Vietnam or from Cuba, vented their anger on America as the enemy of Marxist socialism. They followed the fashion of the Third World and of its ideologists in the West.

When university authorities in Turkey met the students’ grievances and faculty sit-ins ended, militants upped the ante by attacking sailors of the US Sixth Fleet visiting Turkish ports. In July 1968, one student was killed when riot police broke into the Istanbul Technical University from which attacks on American sailors had been directed. The following month, leftwing violence was answered by a mob which hunted down left-wingers in the conservative city of Konya. The army had to intervene to restore order. The seeds of violence had been sown.

Left-wing militancy had its first advocates in university debating societies formed in the late 1950s under the name of Think Clubs. The clubs came together in a nation-wide federation, which, at first, supported the orthodox Marxist policy of the Turkish Workers Party. But in 1969 the federation came under the control of Ma...

Table of contents

• COVER PAGE
• TITLE PAGE
• COPYRIGHT PAGE
• ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
• ACRONYMS
• INTRODUCTION
• 1: TERROR DECLARES WAR ON TURKEY
• 2: KEEPING THE DEATH WISH ALIVE
• 3: SEPARATIST TERROR
• 4: THE ABUSE OF RELIGION
• 5: FREEDOM FROM FEAR
• POSTSCRIPT
• NOTES
• BIBLIOGRAPHY