Diana Muir Appelbaum published the article “Turkey, Past and Future: Islamic Supremacy Alive and Well in Ankara” in 2013. I read this in August 2020 and said to a group of friends that the president of Turkey, Recep Tayyip Erdoğan, was pursuing an expansion of the borders of his country.
In a wide narrative arc, Appelbaum explained everything from the treatment of the dhimmis to the invasion of Cyprus. In her piece, one could find prescient hints of what was going to happen to Hagia Sophia, which Erdoğan converted into a mosque last June. One is left with the feeling that the analysis serves as a predictor of Turkish policy, I warned. In the time-honored tradition of past and present dictators and autocrats, Erdoğan means what he says, I cautioned.
Three months ago, I ventured so far as to say, he is after a land grab, gambling on a massive redrawing of maps. That causes me a lot of concern; but history also teaches that those gambles often backfire.
This was the key passage in Appelbaum’s 2013 essay: “Since its foundation in 1923, Turkey has repeatedly enacted in policy, military conquest, and law the supersessionist conviction that as Muslims and Turks, the citizens of the republic were endowed with special rights to expand their territory by any means available, forcibly assimilate conquered peoples, eliminate non-Muslim populations, and erase pre-Muslim history.”
Based on these premises, we may draw the following observations:
- The Turkish regime does not disguise the racism inherent in its imperialist project because it does not have to. This historical moment is propitious for Erdoğan’s neo-Ottoman plans: democracies and the values upon which they are founded have become mere formalities devoid of any substance. Major democracies and international organizations, including the UN and the EU, reacted with the utmost indifference to the abundance of proof that Turkey shipped terrorists its army had trained in Syria to fight against Armenians in Artsakh, supporting Azerbaijan. NATO recently congratulated Turkey, its member with the second largest army, for its efforts in fighting terrorism.
- Azerbaijan is Turkey’s proxy in these plans. It has now become a de facto Turkish colony: its war effort is conducted by the Turkish government.
- This war is not about Artsakh, a 1,700 square-mile mountainous enclave. The war is part of a larger imperial design, the ultimate goal of which is, not in the very long term, the disappearance of Armenia itself.
- The Armenian Genocide was foundational for Turkey. Not only does Turkey not recognize it, but Erdoğan has begun to boast about it. Extermination is a legitimate policy tool for Turkey, something it has attempted with Armenians, Greeks, Assyrians and, more recently, Kurds.
- Armenia, with a population of barely 3 million, has lost more than 1,000 young soldiers in a month. That is the equivalent of 100,000 in a country with a population of 300 million, like the U.S. That, and the wanton destruction, is aimed at making Armenia unviable as an independent state. A much weakened Armenia could hardly withstand successive wars like this one.
- Armenia is on its own, as the passivity of the international community – including Russia – attests.
- Humans are inherently loath to entertain the possibility of catastrophe, for hope is what drives life. Yet time and again, history shows that catastrophes happen both in our private life as well as on a larger scale: Constantinople did fall in 1453; the 1915 Genocide did happen, as did two world wars and the Holocaust. At the moment, the only thing standing in the way of a second Armenian Genocide are the armies of Armenia and Artsakh. Armenia is on its own.
This piece is part of the Voices on Karabakh collection where a select group of scholars, intellectuals, and artists contribute observations on the war in and for Karabakh. It's an attempt to make sense of this time and this region.