The Moral Crisis of Politics in Turkey
This essay argues that Turkish politics has devolved from serving the common good into a realm of self-interest, opportunism, and moral decay, undermining public trust and societal well-being.
Dear Readers,
In some countries, politics is conducted to foster the common sense of society. In others, politics transforms into a stage that amplifies the weakest aspects of human nature. Turkey has long lived under the heavy shadow of this second stage.
What is the true purpose of politics?
It is to increase societal welfare, ensure peace, guarantee security, strengthen justice, protect human dignity, and build a common hope for the future. Politics must concern itself with people's livelihoods, their jobs, their children's education, the safety of their streets, the peace of their elderly, and the future of their youth.
However, in today's Turkey, politics has often been detached from this high purpose. Grand ideals have been replaced by election polls, percentage calculations, membership numbers, social media visibility, and seat engineering. Politics has ceased to be the art of healing society's wounds and has become confined to the narrow corridors of numbers, cliques, loyalty bargaining, and personal agendas.
Now, in many places, the issue is:
Who recruited how many members?
Who controls which delegate?
Who is close to which chairman?
Who belongs to which group?
Who will find a place on which list?
When this happens, politics ceases to be a door that listens to the nation's troubles. It turns into a haunt for those seeking personal gain, visibility, and to establish small spheres of power.
Today, many people do not go to political party headquarters with idealistic thoughts. They go not with the question, "How can I serve this country?" but with the calculation, "Can I get something out of this?" They seek a job, a position, a tender, a reference, an acquaintance, a protective sphere, social prestige, an open door. The tragic thing is that the system often operates in a way that feeds this quest.
Thus, party buildings cease to be places where ideas compete. They become places where human character is tested.
One of the most painful aspects of politics is the system of sycophancy. Whichever way power shifts, the sycophants shift with it. They have no ideology. They have no morality. They have no cause. Their direction is the direction of power.
Yesterday they sat at one person's table, today they stand against them. Yesterday they applauded, today they accuse. Yesterday they criticized, today they cannot praise enough. Because they are not children of truth, but of self-interest. For them, what matters is not who is right, but who is powerful.
And unfortunately, they often win.
Because a sycophant does not tire. They feel no shame. They carry no memory. They are not bothered by denying their past. They see no moral problem in saying the opposite tomorrow of what they said today. For them, politics is not a struggle of ideas, but a technique for survival. They approach whichever leader is rising. They appear at the door of whichever team is strengthening. They are the first to abandon any seat that is shaking.
This is why honest people in Turkey often become disillusioned with politics. Moral people withdraw. Intellectuals fall silent. Principled individuals become isolated. The arena is left to those who shout the loudest, change sides the fastest, and ingratiate themselves the most.
This is where the real crisis begins.
Because when sycophants start to determine politics in a society, that society's moral backbone weakens. Merit recedes. Courage is punished. Honesty is considered naivety. Being principled is seen as "incompatibility." Criticism is accepted as enmity. Loyalty takes precedence over thought.
Within this system, the ambitions of leaders also grow. A small authority can create a great intoxication in some people. A position, the power to sign, the ability to determine a list, even the right to speak at a meeting can reveal the hidden arrogance within a person.
Yet, a position does not elevate a person. It merely reveals what is already within them.
A moral person serves with their position.
A weak-willed person takes revenge with their position.
An arrogant person crushes people with their position.
A cowardly person silences their surroundings with their position.
A small person thinks they grow with their position.
This is one of the deepest problems in Turkish politics: many who seize power use it not for societal benefit, but to compensate for their own shortcomings. Some take revenge for past oppression. Some try to cover their fear of invisibility with a position. Some satisfy their need for importance with crowds. And some replace the cause with themselves, under the delusion that "if I leave, everything will end."
Yet, no person is greater than a cause. No seat is more important than society. No leader is above the people.
But a common ailment in our political culture is this: after a while, people start defending themselves, not the party. They protect their seats, not the cause. They think of their immediate circle, not the public. They shout about democracy but cannot tolerate the slightest criticism in their own small spheres of power.
This is the moral contradiction of politics.
Those who demand democracy in public become authoritarian in their own circles. Those who speak of the will of the people cannot tolerate dissenting voices within the party. Those who demand justice bend justice for their own people when they have the opportunity. Those who speak of merit look to kinship, hometown ties, sect, ethnic proximity, and personal loyalty when distributing duties.
Thus, politics, instead of uniting society, divides it further. Instead of gathering people around a common future, it separates them into small camps of belonging. Ethnic ties, sectarian affinities, family relations, hometown networks, and clique solidarities become the invisible map of politics.
On this map, ideas often stand alone.
The moral crisis of politics in Turkey is not just a problem of the ruling party. Nor is it just a problem of the opposition. This is a deeper issue. This is the issue of what a person who seizes power transforms into. This is the issue of those who start doing today what they criticized yesterday. This is the issue of those who demand justice but cannot be just, who demand democracy but cannot act democratically, who speak of the people but instrumentalize them.
Today, politics in Turkey has largely been reduced to a race of percentages. Who is ahead in the polls? Which party got how many points? Which leader is rising? Which alliance has the advantage? How many members were recruited in which province?
Of course, elections are important. Of course, vote share is important. Of course, organization is important. But if politics turns solely into a calculation of percentages, the human element is lost. The poor person's table, the youth's hope, the pensioner's helplessness, the farmer's debt, the unemployed person's silence, the woman's safety, the child's future are relegated to the background.
Politics begins with numbers but gains meaning with morality.
What we need today is not just to recruit more members. It is to bring more moral people into politics. It is not just to get more votes. It is to establish a higher political standard. It is not just to gain power. It is to have the character to wield power.
Because power without character is a dangerous tool.
Power without morality turns into tyranny.
Loyalty without merit fosters decay.
Politics without principles turns into a market of self-interest.
Turkey's real need is not for shouting politicians, but for thinking politicians. Not for threatening leaders, but for listening leaders. Not for cadres who gather people, but for cadres who build society. Not for people who inflate their own egos, but for consciences that amplify the troubles of the people.
Today, a great moral question stands before politics:
Will politics elevate humanity, or will it amplify human weaknesses?
Without an honest answer to this question, a healthy political life cannot be established in Turkey. Because the issue is not just about changing parties. The issue is about changing the morality of politics.
If political parties turn into structures that feed people's ambitions instead of solving their problems, then democracy weakens, hope weakens, and social trust weakens. If party headquarters become waiting rooms for those seeking personal gain, rather than for idealistic people, then what is done there is not politics, but interest engineering.
And when interest engineering replaces politics in a country, the public becomes increasingly isolated.
This is one of Turkey's biggest problems today: people are losing trust in the state, institutions, parties, leaders, and each other. Because everyone believes that everyone has an agenda. They look for a bargain behind every word, an expectation behind every closeness, a personal interest behind every slogan.
This destruction of trust is as heavy as an economic crisis. In fact, it is deeper. Because the economy can recover over time. But when moral trust is destroyed, the soul of society is wounded.
Politics exists to heal this soul. But if politicians wound this soul further, then there is no longer just a political crisis, but a moral crisis.
This is precisely the moral crisis of politics in Turkey.
Those who speak of a cause betray their own cause.
Those who speak of the people become detached from the people.
Those who speak of democracy establish dominance in their own circles.
Those who speak of justice protect their own people.
Those who speak of merit distribute loyalty.
Those who speak of change sanctify their own seats.
This picture may seem dark. But an exit is still possible.
The exit is to rebuild politics around human dignity. The exit is to limit, control, and bind power with morality. The exit is to genuinely implement intra-party democracy. The exit is to reward honesty, not sycophancy. The exit is to appoint the competent, not the loyal. The exit is to see the critic not as an enemy, but as the truth held up to a mirror.
Most importantly:
Politics must cease to be a means for individuals to feel important. Politics must become a means for society to feel secure.
The greatest virtue for a politician is to remain humble while in office. To act justly when powerful. Not to forget the truth when applauded. Not to be overcome by anger when criticized. And to remain human even after leaving office.
Because true politics is a test of character.
Turkey cannot be saved merely by winning elections without passing this test. Nor can it be saved merely by changing parties. Nor can it be saved merely by changing leaders.
Turkey's need is to change the spirit of politics.
What we need today is not to shout more, but to think more. Not to take sides more, but to have more conscience. Not to recruit more members, but to raise more moral people.
Because if politics in a country loses its morality, the people are not only poorly governed. They also lose their hope.
And in a society that has lost hope, the greatest wreckage occurs not in buildings, but in the inner world of people.
Sincerely, Mücahit Özden Hun