Turkey:
the triple strike that could change everything
The
confluence of a public sector strike, a manufacturing strike and an
investor strike could combine to bring the Turkish government to its
knees.
Jerome
Ross
4
June, 2013
For
days, Turkey has been rocked by massive street demonstrations and
violent clashes between protesters and police. Ever since authorities
brutally
uprooted
a peaceful sit-in in Istanbul’s Gezi Park, which the government
intends to destroy as part of its urban ‘renovation’ projects,
millions of Turks have taken to the streets in what amounts to
nothing less than a spontaneous popular insurrection against the
authoritarian neoliberalism of prime minister Erdogan’s Islamist
government and a nationwide uprising for real democracy.
Now
the obvious question on everyone’s lips is simple: what’s next?
The honest answer is that it’s simply to early to tell. One
development, however — largely overlooked by the mainstream media
so far — might change everything. Historical “coincidence” has
it that two major Turkish unions have independently announced two
strikes
for June: one by the confederation of public sector workers and one
by the metal workers’ union. The former represents civil servants;
the latter represents the workers of Turkey’s main manufacturing
export engine.
As
BBC Newsnight editor Paul Mason writes
in his latest blog post, and as I argued in an earlier analysis
of the ongoing protests, all eyes are now on the workers — for it
is they who hold the key to the insurrectionary gateway that could
turn this popular uprising into a full-blown revolutionary event.
After all, Mubarak’s government in Egypt only fell after the young
middle-class radicals who sparked the uprising managed to mobilize
Egyptian workers — culminating into the February 8 Suez strike that
threatened to cripple the Egyptian economy.
This
is where the dual public sector and metal workers’ strikes may turn
out to be crucial events in the development of the ongoing unrest. On
Tuesday, June 4, the Public Workers Unions Confederation (KESK),
representing 240,000 civil servants, will hold a 48-hour “warning
strike”
to protest “state terror” in the face of peaceful popular
dissent. The strike had already been called last month but happens to
coincide with the ongoing protests. If it is to be truly effective,
however, this action needs to be turned into an indefinite general
strike.
The
Türk Metal Union has similarly been mulling
a strike
for June, although it is not yet known if and when it will take
place. This strike could be the real game-changer. If the metal
workers’ union manages to mobilize anything close to its 115,000
membership, the strike could paralyze
the single most important export engine of Turkey’s manufacturing
sector. Taken together, these two strikes could bring to a halt not
only large parts of the the state apparatus but also the industrial
base, putting major pressure on the government to back down.
Meanwhile,
the stock market is collapsing,
losing over 10 percent on Monday alone, hinting at investor fears
that Turkey may no longer be the regional role model and capital safe
haven it was once touted to be. Over the past decade, Turkey
witnessed an investment boom of epic proportions, turning the country
into Europe’s fastest-growing economy. Most of the recent inflows,
however, are those of Arab sheiks who fear that their investments are
no longer safe in Europe due to both the eurozone crisis and a
clampdown on ‘dictatorial’ bank accounts.
These
sheiks may now wish to deposit their money outside of Turkey,
triggering a sudden evaporation of the financial base upon which the
Turkish economic miracle of the past years ultimately rested. In
other words, the ongoing popular uprising may trigger consequences
far beyond those currently foreseen by most Western media
commentators. The economy, as always, is the Achilles heel of the
capitalist state, and by striking right at the heart of the process
of capital accumulation the people can significantly weaken the
government.
In
the end, all of this comes down to a simple notion that I have
expressed in a number of recent writings, including this
conference paper.
The capitalist state — regardless of whether it is developing or
developed, democratic or dictatorial — is structurally dependent on
capital. Without the constant circulation of investment in the
economy, the state simply risks collapse. This is why a triple public
sector strike, manufacturing sector strike and investor strike could
be the unholy trinity that brings Erdogan’s authoritarian
government to its knees.
Again,
as I emphasized in my more extensive
analysis
of the protests and the prospects of revolutionary change in Turkey,
all of this remains undetermined. The future is yet to be written.
But the historical confluence of popular unrest in the streets, labor
strikes in the public sector and manufacturing industry, and investor
panic in the stock market may combine into a toxic potion that could
take Turkey far beyond even the wildest dreams of those currently
assembled in the streets. Again, all eyes are on the workers.
People
have killed their fear of authority - and the protests are growing
What
began in an Istanbul park has tapped in to years of grievances
3
June, 2013
"Well,
we are just filling light bulbs with paint," said my friend, a
cafe owner in Cihangir, the Soho of Istanbul. Speaking to me on the
phone, she sounded as relaxed as if she was baking an apple pie. "You
know," she continued, "the only way to stop a TOMA is to
throw paint on its window so that the vehicle loses orientation."
My
friend, who was completely uninterested in politics until six days
ago, had never been in conflict with the police before. Now, like
hundreds of thousands of others in Turkey, she has become a warrior
with goggles around her neck, an oxygen mask on her face and an
anti-acid solution bottle in her hand. As we have all learned, this
the essential kit to fight the effects of tear gas. As for TOMA, that
is the vehicle-mounted water cannon. To paralyse it, you either have
to put a wet towel in its exhaust pipe or burn something under its
engine or you and a dozen others can push it over. This kind of
battle-info is circulating all over Turkey at the moment. It is like
a civil war between the police and the people. Yet nobody expected
this when, six days ago, a group of protesters organised a sit-in at
Istanbul's Gezi Park to protect trees that were to be cut down for
the government's urban redevelopment project.
Ten
years of arrogance
The
protests that have now engulfed the country may have begun in Gezi
Park in Taksim, the heart of Istanbul. It was never just about trees,
but the accumulation of many incidents. With the world's highest
number of imprisoned journalists, thousands of political prisoners
(trade unionists, politicians, activists, students, lawyers) Turkey
has been turned into an open-air prison already. Institutional checks
and balances have been removed by the current AKP government's
political manoeuvres and their actions go uncontrolled. On top of
this growing authoritarianism, the most important reason for people
to hit the streets in support of the Gezi resistance was the arrogant
tone of the Prime Minister, Recep Tayyip Erdoğan. Even on Sunday,
when millions of people were joining the demonstrations, he called
the protestors "looters". Throughout his tenure, his
rhetoric has been no different. He has repeatedly called his
political opponents "alchoholics, marginals, sniffers, bandits,
infidels". His mocking sarcasm has become his "thing"
over time, and even some of his closest colleagues accept that "he
no longer listens to anyone".
Then,
there is the fear. This kind of thing is hard to report in a
prominent newspaper. That is perhaps why the international media have
not reported that the fear of government and the Prime Minister has
been growing even among non-political people. You can easily hear
your grocery shop man saying "I think my phone is tapped".
The mainstream media has not covered it, but we have read reports on
social media about people being arrested for making jokes about the
government. That is perhaps why for the past two days every wall in
Taksim Square is full of curses against the Prime Minister. The
public is enjoying the death of the "cruel father figure"
with the most sexist curses I have ever seen in my life. And I have
seen some. But there is a more important component to the protests.
Killing
the fear
As
a writer and a journalist I followed the Egyptian and Tunisian
uprisings. As I wrote at the time, Arab people killed their fear and
I saw how it transformed them from silent crowds to peoples who
believe in themselves. This is what has been happening in the last
six days in Turkey. Teenage girls standing in front of TOMAs, kids
throwing tear gas capsules back to the police, rich lawyers throwing
stones at the cops, football fans rescuing rival fans from police,
the ultra-nationalists struggling arm in arm with Kurdish activists.
. . these were all scenes I witnessed. Those who wanted to kill each
other last week became - no exaggeration - comrades on the streets.
People not only overcame their fear of authority but they also killed
the fear of the "other". One more important point: the
generation that has taken to the streets was born after the 1980
military coup that fiercely depoliticised the public. The general who
led the 1980 coup once said: "We will create a generation
without ideology". So this generation was - until last week.
Dangerous
questions
"So
this is the media that we've been hearing the news from over the last
twenty years?" That was the question asked by one young man on
Twitter, as he watched a television journalist keep silent while the
Prime Minister branded protesters "a bunch of looters". The
young man has been on the streets peacefully protesting for the last
six days, so now he has many suspicions about what's been happening
in his country all this time. Maybe the Kurdish people are not
"terrorists". Perhaps the journalists thrown in prison were
not plotting a "coup" against the government. All those
jailed trade unionists may not be members of a "terrorist
organization" after all. All those university students in
prison, were they innocent like he is? Questions multiply.
As
I write, Istanbul, Ankara - Turkey's capital - Izmir and Adana are
burning. Massive police violence is taking place. And in my middle
class Istanbul neighbourhood, like many others, people are banging on
their frying pans to protest. People are exchanging information about
safe places to take shelter from police, the telephone numbers of
doctors and lawyers. In Taksim Square, on the building of Atatürk
Cultural Center, some people are hanging a huge banner. There are
only two words on it: "Don't surrender!"
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