US President Donald Trump once looked to
be Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan’s biggest fan, uttering at a
recent NATO summit: “I like him, I like him.” No longer.
This week, the US Treasury announced
sanctions on two Turkish ministers over the case of Andrew Brunson, an
American pastor who has been in jail for 21 months and who has been the
subject of months of secret negotiations between Ankara and Washington.
Although the move is symbolic – given the
plethora of bilateral disputes between the sides and Turkey’s drift away
from liberal Western norms – the Trump administration’s decision could
become a historic milestone for Turkey’s position in the West.
Nonetheless, in the unpredictable global
environment we live in and with volatile leaders on both sides, it is
also possible that this will end up being a detour in relations between
the two long-time allies. As happened with Russia after the Turkish air
force downed a Russian fighter jet in 2015, and with Germany following
the Turkish authorities’ arrest of two dozen German citizens last
summer, this crisis might blow over in seven or eight months, leading
first to a thaw and then to normalisation.
Still, the events of this week are
momentous – the first serious fissure between Ankara and Washington
since the 1975 US arms embargo on Turkey following the Turkish incursion
into Cyprus.
Using the Magnitsky Act, the Trump administration has imposed sanctions on Turkish Minister of Justice Abdulhamit Gül and Minister of Interior Süleyman Soylu, designating them “leaders of Turkish government organizations responsible for implementing Turkey’s serious human rights abuses” – and, as such, accountable for the decision to persecute Brunson on trumped-up charges.
Using the Magnitsky Act, the Trump administration has imposed sanctions on Turkish Minister of Justice Abdulhamit Gül and Minister of Interior Süleyman Soylu, designating them “leaders of Turkish government organizations responsible for implementing Turkey’s serious human rights abuses” – and, as such, accountable for the decision to persecute Brunson on trumped-up charges.
Brunson has been living in Turkey for 23
years, running a small protestant church in Izmir. He was caught up in
Turkey’s massive dragnet after the coup attempt, accused of “supporting
terrorism” – as most foreign nationals detained during that period were –
by way of his alleged links with both the Gülen movement and Kurdish
separatists. It took more than a year for the authorities to produce an
indictment – which turned out to be a jumble of espionage charges,
secret testimonies, allegations of links to the Kurdistan Workers Party
(PKK) and local Gülenists, and an insidious plot to create an
independent “Kurdistan” through the Christianisation of Syrian-Kurdish
immigrants. A pro-government newspaper even claimed that, had the coup
attempt been successful, Brunson would have been appointed as director of the CIA
.
.
It is troubling, if not unusual, for
Turkish prosecutors to come up with wild accusations against foreign
detainees. The practice reflects, above all, the emergence of a deeply
paranoid security state that senses a threat from, as opposed to
camaraderie with, Turkey’s traditional Western allies. German-Turkish
journalist Deniz Yücel and human rights activist Peter Steudtner were
similarly accused of “aiding an armed terrorist group”. The perception
that the American “deep state” is behind the coup attempt and is
harbouring Fethullah Gülen – a US-based cleric whose supporters played a
leading role in the event – has now become the standard view in the
Turkish bureaucracy. Turkey’s new national security ideology casts
suspicion on foreigners, human rights activists, journalists, and
liberal-leaning non-governmental organisations for knowingly or
unknowingly participating in an effort to weaken or destroy Turkey.
But Brunson’s case is unique because his
name has emerged as a rallying cry for the evangelical community in the
United States – ultimately making the fate of the Presbyterian pastor a
key issue in the strained Turkish-US relationship. When Erdogan held his
first official meeting with Trump in Washington in May 2016, the White
House organised a prayer vigil calling for Brunson’s release.
Trump
brought up the case three times during a luncheon with Erdogan that day
and during subsequent phone conversations with Erdogan. Meanwhile,
Congress has held hearings on the case and referred to Brunson in
various legislative bills on Turkey. Vice President Mike Pence,
Secretary of State Mike Pompeo, and Trump supporters such as Jay Sekulow
– an attorney on the president’s legal team who leads the American
Center for Law and Justice – have all been involved in the Brunson saga.
In this way, demands for Brunson’s release have become a permanent
fixture in Turkey’s messy alliance with Washington.
Of course, the alliance is no less steady
than a tired marriage mired in bickering and a litany of mutual
grievances. Ankara has never quite forgiven Washington for not handing
over Gülen. Turkey also objects to US support for Syrian Kurds
affiliated with the PKK in the fight against the Islamic State group
(ISIS). On top of this, the Turkish president has lashed out at the
prosecution of Halkbank executive Hakan Atilla in a New York court case
concerning the evasion of US sanctions on Iran. As Halkbank is one of
Turkey’s largest state banks, Ankara fears that a US Treasury fine on
the institution would trigger a domino effect in the Turkish financial
system, at a time when the economy is experiencing a serious downturn.
In Trump, Ankara once had a sympathetic
ear. From the get-go, the US president seemed eager to build a good
relationship with Turkey’s strongman leader. This accorded with the
prevailing view of the foreign policy establishment in Washington, which
continues to believe that it is important to keep Turkey anchored to
the West. However, Erdogan’s anti-Western rhetoric, poor human rights
record, and decision to purchase Russian S-400 anti-aircraft systems
have all made it harder for American friends of Turkey to make the case
for improved relations. US officials have publicly warned that Turkey’s
purchase of S-400s would jeopardise NATO’s defences and could result in
US sanctions.
Meanwhile, Congress has introduced legislation that threatens to block the sale of F-35 fighter jets to Turkey and also discusses the case of Brunson and Turkey’s imprisonment of US citizens and consular employees. (Several other US citizens, and two Turkish citizens who are US consular employees, remain in custody in Turkey; a third remains under house arrest.)
Meanwhile, Congress has introduced legislation that threatens to block the sale of F-35 fighter jets to Turkey and also discusses the case of Brunson and Turkey’s imprisonment of US citizens and consular employees. (Several other US citizens, and two Turkish citizens who are US consular employees, remain in custody in Turkey; a third remains under house arrest.)
One of the most dispiriting aspects of all this is that Turkey’s hostage
diplomacy sometimes works. Ankara’s decision to return Yücel to Germany
has led to the normalization of relations with Berlin and ended an
unofficial German embargo on arms sales to Turkey.
Last week, the Turkish courts released
Brunson from jail and put him under house arrest at his home in Izmir.
But Washington saw this as a half-measure. Both Trump and Pence took to
Twitter to threaten sanctions if Brunson was not released. US officials
continued quietly looking into the possibility of using the Magnitsky
Act to penalise Ankara
.
This drama even includes an Israeli
sideshow. In expectation of Brunson’s release, Trump reached out to
Israeli Prime Minister Binyamin Netanyahu to ask for the release of
Turkish activist Ebru Ozkan, who Israel jailed for allegedly aiding
Hamas. The 27-year-old was released on 11 June, the day after Trump’s
call.
Erdogan has recently acknowledged as much, but said this week that
Turkey never entertained the idea of a direct swap for Brunson. In a
meeting this week, Turkey’s National Security Council said that
“threatening” rhetoric against Turkey was “unacceptable.”
Even in difficult marriages, divorce is
not an easy choice. In the case of Turkish-US relations, there have
always been considerations and strategic imperatives that prevented
harsh measures against Ankara – such as Washington’s reliance on
Incirlik Air Base, and goals of keeping Turkey out of Russia’s arms and
maintaining an important NATO alliance in the Middle East.
But the mood in Washington seemed to
change very fast this week. Following Trump’s threat of “large
sanctions” on Turkey, Turkish officials attempted a quiet diplomacy with
the US, offering to release Brunson at his next hearing in October.
However, they appear to have misjudged Washington’s patience with the
matter, as the sanctions announced this week suggest.
It is hard to predict how long this saga
will continue but, as one US official noted, “this is just the beginning
[of US measures]. Brunson must be released in the end.” Meanwhile, the
knotty set of problems in the Turkey-US relationship – from S-400s to
Syrian Kurds, F-35s, and the Halkbank fine – have all somehow become
intertwined, with Brunson at the centre of it all.
Note EU-Digest: Again
the dirty game of power politics. Also, what is quite interesting to
note is that the US government leaders in the past and present have
never been able to give some clear picture on the status of the Gülen
movement in the US. What kind of a deal has the US with him, and why are
they so tight-lipped about why he was allowed "to set up shop" in the
US?
Read more: The pastor, the banker, and the irresistible drama in Turkish-US relations | European Council on Foreign Relations