The darker side of Turkish success

At the Diyarbakir city center. (Photo: Rebecca Gasca)

Thirty minutes after landing in Diyarbakir, Turkey, my contact Ebru Okmen asked about my immediate impression of the city. Being my first time in Diyarbakir, I thought: well, this is certainly not the Turkey that the West is hearing about through the megaphones of Istanbul and Ankara. I told Ebru that what Diyarbakir seemed to lack in the glamour of Istanbul, it made up for by leaps and bounds in vibrancy and human spirit.

Diyarbakir, a 7,000 year old city in southeast Turkey whose old quarters are surrounded by a wall built in the fourth century, is in constant motion. Sadly, however, it is not moving coherently or towards a definitive goal. Diyarbakir is saddled – and most Turks in other parts of the country will quip that it has saddled itself – with many problems.

There are signs of physical development in the part of the city outside the wall, as the government has increased federal funds to support housing construction and similar projects. Yet there is little evidence of strategic support for the strengthening of local institutions and Diyarbakir’s economy. Of course, a few local organizations try to remain active, including the Youth and Change organization, an NGO dedicated to empowering the youth of Diyarbakir through entrepreneurial initiatives and exchange programs, headed by an energetic young man named Umut Suvary. Still, close to 49 percent of approximately 600,000 citizens living in Diyarbakir Municipality (the population of Diyarbakir Province is 1.5 million) are under the age of 18 and hold little or no hope for formal employment. In fact, talking to average citizens and non-governmental organizations here, one gets the uneasy feeling that hope is in short supply.

In a meeting with local civil society leaders, including the head of the local chamber of commerce, it became clear that initiatives to empower locals to support social and economic growth and stability are sorely lacking. There is a glaring disconnect between the associations, particularly those with national reach, and the localities. Most people with whom I spoke had no idea what it meant to belong to an association or how they could use that affiliation to benefit their daily lives and community.

Assessing the political disconnect also helps in understanding the plight of Diyarbakir. An illustrative example: the governor (an appointee of AKP, the ruling Justice and Development Party) of Diyarbakir made a grandiose presentation on the future economic growth and self-sufficiency of the district. On the other hand, after postponing our meeting to the afternoon due to his ongoing trial on insubordination charges, Diyarbakir’s outspoken, elected Kurdish mayor Osman Baydemir apologetically insisted that the government does not want to see an economically successful Kurdish city due to fears that it will fan the flames of Kurdish autonomy.

To underscore this ongoing battle, the city of Diyarbakir, in desperate need of just basic infrastructure, is now witnessing the construction of two sports complexes across from one another – one is being built by the governor and one by the mayor. Waste such as this will continue to thrive if the national government and local government cannot find a way to work together to address the social and economic problems facing Diyarbakir. Will a chamber of commerce, association, or maybe some other civil society organization rise to the occasion of reconciling such divisions and get everyone on the same page?

Published Date: January 21, 2011