In whose bag is the Alevis' vote?

Technically, a referendum offers two options: either "yes" or "no". Choosing one of these two options is possible and legitimate within the bounds of democratic action. People may approve or reject the proposed options for one reason or another. The debate over which factors determine people's preferences is equally legitimate.

At the stage of the TBMM, the CHP in particular had said that it accepted all of the package's provisions except three; yet today it can be seen extending its opposition to the very provisions it said it had earlier agreed to, which makes all of its arguments against the package as a whole unconvincing from the outset.

To be honest, since one of the three provisions in question (the one concerning party closures) has already fallen away, only two contested provisions remain. Conducting the debate on just these two provisions would, in fact, have made things considerably easier. Indeed, the heart of the matter is the structure of the HSYK and the Constitutional Court. And if we bring the subject back to the substance of those provisions, it may be easier to discuss it by focusing on the technical side without multiplying words.

But this is easy to say and, once again, extraordinarily hard to do. Because when one gets down to the technical side of the matter, none of the criticisms about the proposed change tying the judiciary to the government is supported by the content of the package. Today there is an HSYK with the power to appoint whichever judge and prosecutor it wants to whichever court it wants at the same time, and thereby to bring any court to whatever outcome it wants. Obviously, this judiciary appears as a party in all important cases. It has carried out its business quietly until now, because nobody has put a stop to it. That is why the Susurluk affair, which years ago kindled the hope of a "clean society" in Turkey, extinguished all hopes within a short time thanks to this judicial order.

Far more important, there is no one who does not know that bringing the massacres at Madımak and in the Gazi neighborhood to a conclusion is a matter for the judiciary. When the representatives of the organizations that have for years claimed to speak on behalf of the Alevis sincerely ask why the real culprits in these events have not been found, the place they will arrive at is none other than the judicial system shaped by the HSYK.

Of course everyone casts the vote they wish; this is a requirement of democracy. But the question also comes to mind of why the Alevis, who should have the greatest problem with today's judiciary, are resisting so fiercely a regulation that would put this judicial system in order.

Is it normal for civil society organizations to make a declaration of a vote in elections or referendums on behalf of the masses they represent or their members? The dispute between TÜSİAD and the prime minister invites us these days to take this question seriously. TÜSİAD is an institution that in the past declared its partisanship, in a way that binds all its members, both in debates on the constitution and on many other items on the agenda. That is why its coyness today about announcing its vote can be interpreted differently.

The caution that the head of a club with a limited membership like TÜSİAD displays for one reason or another is of course expected all the more from persons acting on behalf of a religious community. How right, how possible is it for Alevi Bektaşi Federation President Ali Balkız, European Alevi Unions Confederation Chairman Turgut Öker and Hacı Bektaş Veli Anatolian Culture Foundation Chairman Ercan Geçmez to publish a declaration beginning with "We Alevis" and make a statement of a vote on behalf of all Alevis? Do they have a mechanism of representation that would allow them to speak so categorically on behalf of such vast Alevi masses? If so, the situation is truly very grave for the Alevis. Frankly, an approach that thinks all Alevis will follow when one speaks in the name of the Alevis views Alevi existence as a tribe, and it is clear that this contains, above all, a disrespect toward the Alevis.

As for the content of the declaration, it is an utter outrage; we have no space left to go into the details, but there are sentences such as these:

"The AKP, which has been in power for 8 years, will be before us again with a new Muawiyah game." Exemplifying politics with religious figures and analogies is contrary to secularism whichever way you look at it, and even if taken as a metaphor, it stretches the limits of the metaphor very far. While speaking this language, which involves an open exploitation of history and religious discourse for today's political struggles, should one not still expect that the person who sees his opponent as Muawiyah would himself be at least a little like Hz. Ali?

Balkız and his friends, who in other speeches condemn every step of the current politics with the same religious terms, argue, without making any proper assessment of the content of the package, that with this referendum the government will have advanced one more step toward bringing about a sharia order.

Now, should this be taken up by pointing to the bad suspicion harbored about the work being done, or by pointing out the contradiction contained in the fact that someone who is supposed to have the discipline of "four gates, forty stations" hates sharia so much? However you take it, this discourse shows how immoderately authoritarian and disrespectful toward their own masses are those in Turkey who claim to demand equal citizenship on behalf of their own community.

Would this approach, which sees the Alevis as its own tribe and their will as its own property, not disturb the Alevis?