Headlong Political Rush in Turkey

In Terms of Democratic Freedoms, It Seems Turkey Is Never Safe from the Worst

The political situation in Turkey continues to deteriorate in alarming fashion.

The latest dramatic turn came with the spectacular arrest of Istanbul’s mayor, Ekrem Imamoğlu, and 96 of his close associates (9 of whom are still being sought by police), including elected officials and district mayors of Istanbul, in the early hours of 19 March. The charges levelled against him are serious, involving allegations of corruption (“heading a for-profit criminal organisation”) and alleged contacts with the Kurdistan Workers’ Party (PKK), which is classified as a terrorist organisation by Turkish authorities. Nothing less. Were the charges not so outlandish, they might seem laughable—but they are very real and carry grave implications for the country’s future. On the morning of 23 March, the first of the charges was upheld against Ekrem Imamoğlu, who was immediately placed in detention.

These arrests form part of a broader authoritarian drift in recent weeks, marked in particular by intensified repression of anyone daring to voice criticism of Recep Tayyip Erdoğan’s policies. There has been a surge in arrests targeting members of the Party of Equality and Democracy (DEM), along with the dismissal and imprisonment of several mayors from the party, who have been replaced by government-appointed administrators. Similar measures have been taken against officials and local representatives of the Republican People’s Party (CHP), the main opposition party. Two leaders of TÜSIAD, the main Turkish employers’ association whose members account for about half the country’s private national income, have been placed under judicial supervision. Numerous journalists and artists have been arrested and jailed. The list grows longer by the day—an estimated 50,000 arrests in less than six months—deepening the decline of fundamental freedoms already severely eroded over recent years.

These latest arrests do not come as a bolt from the blue. Despite some tentative improvements, Turkey’s dire economic situation remains largely unchanged and continues to weigh heavily on its citizens, particularly the most vulnerable, fuelling growing discontent. The political repercussions of this have already become apparent, as evidenced by the results of the March 2024 municipal elections, in which the ruling Justice and Development Party (AKP)—in power since 2002—suffered its first electoral defeat, losing most major urban centres to the CHP.

Since then, the CHP, led by Ekrem Imamoğlu, has embodied the most credible alternative to Erdoğan. This is why he has been a target of judicial harassment for years: five legal cases are already underway against him, resulting in several convictions currently under appeal. Beyond a possible 25-year prison sentence, he also faces a ban on standing for office, which could prevent him from running in the 2028 presidential election. His arrest and subsequent detention mark a new step in the authorities’ attempt to block his path at a crucial moment, just as he was set to be endorsed as the CHP’s presidential candidate following a party consultation scheduled for 23 March. The operation was meticulously orchestrated. On the eve of his arrest, Istanbul University annulled his university degree—awarded thirty years ago—even though the Turkish constitution requires all presidential candidates to have completed four years of higher education. On the morning of his arrest, internet speeds were throttled, metro stations were closed, streets were barricaded and access to certain public areas was blocked. The city governor also issued a ban on demonstrations until 23 March. The CHP leader did not hesitate to denounce, with some exaggeration, a coup d’état.

In response, the Istanbul stock exchange plummeted, and the Turkish lira lost 12% in a single day (19 March), forcing the Central Bank to inject nearly $13 billion to stabilise exchange rates.

The government, seemingly emboldened by the global surge of authoritarian forces, is now taking increasingly aggressive steps to reshape the political landscape in the worst possible way. It is unlikely to succeed, even though three party leaders or former leaders are now behind bars: Selahattin Demirtaş, the former Kurdish party leader imprisoned since 2016, Ümit Özdağ, head of a far-right nationalist party since January 2025, and now Ekrem Imamoğlu.

This comes amid rumours of possible early elections—or even a constitutional amendment that would allow Recep Tayyip Erdoğan to run for a third presidential term, despite the current constitution limiting presidents to two. Given the deteriorating economy and underlying social unrest, early presidential elections are unlikely—unless Erdoğan first ensures his most serious rival is imprisoned for several years. The possibility of a constitutional amendment brings up another issue: political alliances. There are two ways to amend the Turkish constitution.

The first requires a two-thirds majority in parliament—400 out of 600 MPs. The second is a vote on a constitutional amendment requiring three-fifths—360 MPs—which is then submitted to a referendum. Neither is currently feasible given the balance of power in parliament: Erdoğan’s alliance with the far-right nationalist party controls only 319 seats. In both scenarios, the votes of the Kurdish party’s 57 MPs become pivotal.

This brings the Kurdish question back into focus, particularly after Abdullah Öcalan’s 25 February call for the PKK to lay down arms and dissolve itself. To secure support from part or all of the Kurdish parliamentary bloc, the government would at minimum need to make genuine proposals and engage in a serious dialogue aimed at a negotiated settlement. So far, this has not happened—at least not publicly. The Turkish president continues to make vague statements about “the brotherhood of peoples” and the need to make no concessions to PKK terrorists, while his Defence Minister demands disarmament and self-dissolution from the PKK without offering anything in return. It is therefore hard to see why the DEM would consider supporting a constitutional amendment. The path forward is narrow for Erdoğan, who knows that any concessions to Kurdish forces would alienate Turkish nationalist voters—whose support is now critical to his hold on power, his primary political objective. These contradictions, nearly impossible to resolve, reflect the extreme polarisation of Turkish society.

The arrest and detention of Ekrem Imamoğlu on 23 March can also be explained by Erdoğan’s effort to undermine the mayor’s growing popularity. Yet the effect seems to be the opposite. Another motive is to prevent any deepening convergence between the CHP and DEM, which would significantly strengthen the opposition ahead of future elections. But Erdoğan’s attempt to divide the two parties by dangling the possibility of concessions to the Kurds has so far failed—DEM has expressed full solidarity with Ekrem Imamoğlu.

What remains to be seen is the strength of citizen mobilisation, which is already revealing itself: hundreds of thousands of demonstrators have gathered every evening since the Istanbul mayor’s arrest. Young people play a leading role, and the radical tone of the protests indicates that part of the population is determined to bring an end to the conservative and repressive order imposed by Recep Tayyip Erdoğan’s regime.