Turkey: A Shifting Political Landscape

Turkey is arguably experiencing a pivotal moment in its political history—one whose outcome is admittedly difficult to foresee, yet which contains the seeds of a potential shift in the balance of power, and may well herald, in time, significant change.

The results of the municipal elections of March 2024 were an early indication of this shift: for the first time since coming to power in 2001, the Justice and Development Party (AKP), led by Recep Tayyip Erdoğan, suffered a major defeat, allowing the main opposition party, the Republican People’s Party (CHP), to take control of all the major urban centres.

Since then, the regime has visibly hardened: a rise in arrests of political opponents and journalists, the dismissal of around ten elected mayors, legal proceedings brought against leaders of TÜSIAD (the main employers’ association)… the list is long of those suffering the concerning deterioration of democratic rights, already severely eroded.

A line was crossed with the arrest of Ekrem Imamoğlu, Mayor of Istanbul, on 19 March 2025—a qualitative leap, as he had emerged as the main opponent of the regime, just days before his expected designation as the CHP’s candidate in the upcoming presidential election. Mayor of Istanbul since 2019, comfortably re-elected in 2024, he embodied a widely used phrase attributed to Erdoğan himself: “Whoever wins Istanbul wins Turkey.”

Ekrem Imamoğlu, from a conservative family originally from the Black Sea region, is a widely appreciated administrator of a city of 16–17 million inhabitants, accounting for about 40% of Turkey’s GDP. He champions a less dogmatic form of secularism than that traditionally promoted by his own party, and has demonstrated an ability to compromise with Kurdish parties and associations, notably in Istanbul. As such, he appears as a “reformer”, ticking many of the boxes that make him a serious contender for the presidency.

The allegations against him—supposed financial fraud, rigged contracts, and being the head of a “profit-driven criminal organisation”—fool very few; the decision is perceived above all as politically motivated. In doing so, President Erdoğan appears to have made a rare miscalculation in domestic affairs, suggesting a hasty move and a loss of the societal antennae that had enabled his previous electoral triumphs.

This is all the more significant because voting in Turkey is seen as an almost sacred civic act—with turnout rates regularly approaching 90%—and by imprisoning the mayor of the country’s largest city, the regime risks undermining the very foundations of its own legitimacy. Erdoğan has always relied on electoral legitimacy to embody the popular will, a mantra frequently repeated by the AKP since it assumed power.

This context helps explain the scale and intensity of the spontaneous protests that erupted in the days following Imamoğlu’s arrest, and which have continued since. The student population—seven million strong, amounting to 8.2% of Turkey’s total population (compared to 4.4% in France)—is particularly mobilised. Having known nothing but AKP rule, they are expressing a clear desire for change, demonstrating creativity and a sharp, often biting sense of humour. It was at their initiative that a boycott of pro-government media outlets and businesses was launched. Many university lectures are also being boycotted and, in recent days, secondary schools have begun to follow suit.

For the time being, the CHP is riding this wave, taking up these initiatives. The party’s long-planned internal vote to choose its presidential candidate went ahead on 23 March despite Imamoğlu’s arrest, and was opened to all citizens. The result was a genuine plebiscite, with 15 million votes cast—despite the party having only 1.5 million members.

Likewise, President Erdoğan’s attempt to undermine the growing political convergence between the CHP and the Peoples’ Equality and Democracy Party (DEM) seems, for now, to have failed. The DEM leadership unequivocally condemned the arrest of Istanbul’s mayor and participated in protests and rallies—even if the broader Kurdish movement and its network of organisations has not mobilised en masse.

These developments clearly illustrate the rejection by a large part of Turkish society of a regime that appears to have lost its bearings. Adding to the strain, the alliance between the AKP and the far-right Nationalist Movement Party (MHP) appears to be weakening. Its ageing leader, Devlet Bahçeli, stated that if the case against Imamoğlu was baseless or insufficiently substantiated, he should be released without delay. He also opposed the idea of the state appointing a trustee to replace the CHP in another affair. These statements are all the more significant coming from a man who has consistently defended the established order and state authority throughout his political career—suggesting cracks are appearing in the AKP-MHP alliance that has governed Turkey since 2015.

Last but not least, it was Bahçeli himself who, in October 2024, proposed a political solution to the Kurdish question—this, from a staunch Turkish nationalist who had spent his career opposing all forms of Kurdish demands. His surprising initiative received an initial response from Abdullah Öcalan, who, on 27 February 2025, called for the PKK to lay down arms and disband—a process to be based on the expansion of democratic rights, a sine qua non for a positive outcome.

Since then, little concrete information has been made public, but the prospect of a PKK congress to formalise Öcalan’s proposals is taking shape. While we are not yet at that point, a process does appear to be under way. Support from Kurdish leaders in Iraq for Öcalan’s call, and the agreement reached between the Syrian Democratic Forces under Mazloum Abdi and Ahmed Al-Charaa on 10 March 2025, suggest that the Kurdish question is evolving in a region where the PKK is visibly weakened.

On this issue, President Erdoğan has so far shown little inclination to put forward concrete proposals, in a negotiating game likely to prove complex. The apparent paradox is that Bahçeli is reasoning more clearly in terms of what he sees as Turkey’s higher strategic interests in the region, and appears far more committed to seeing the process through. For him, it is essential to eliminate the destabilising factor that the PKK represents and to seize the opportunity presented by its weakening. Erdoğan, by contrast, seems more cautious, focused primarily on attracting Kurdish voters and securing parliamentary representation in anticipation of a possible constitutional amendment that would allow him to stand once more in the next presidential election. Division of roles—or genuine divergence between the two partners?

Clearly, Turkey’s political landscape is undergoing genuine transformations. However, while a political crisis has crystallised, it is not yet a regime crisis, and Erdoğan still possesses political, financial and repressive resources that must not be underestimated. There is a real risk of fatigue setting in, and the CHP is not immune to internal divisions that could undermine its ability to mobilise. Furthermore, nationalism remains a potent force—even among protestors—and continues to structure the political landscape, which is not conducive to resolving the full range of challenges facing the country. In any case, these twists and turns in Turkish political life amply demonstrate—if proof were still needed—that Turkey is not a dictatorship, even if the arbitrary nature of the regime’s actions and its attempts to criminalise the opposition are undoubtedly condemnable.