From Vernacular to Ventriloqual Politics

In fond memory of Prof. Ellis Goldberg, who enjoyed this blog and occasionally nudged me to comment on contemporary events in Turkey 

I have recently watched a Netflix comedy/murder mystery show (The Residence – spoilers ahead), which is about the murder of the Chief Usher of the White House. I have not read any reviews, but I thought the show was ripe with symbolism. It turns out that the murderer was the President’s Social Secretary, the daughter of a millionaire, who secretly hated everything the White House represented – including its Chief Usher who had run the House in accordance with traditions for decades. I do not think I need to elaborate much on the symbolism of the tradition-hating-daughter-of-a-millionaire-media-person murdering the bureaucrat who had successfully run the White House. What kept me thinking more was a detail in the somewhat exaggerated but quite well-done murder story. Apparently, the social secretary imitated the voice of the First Gentleman twice to give some orders to cover her tracks. This act of ventriloquism obviously adds another layer of dark symbolism to the show when the rich and elite murderess secretly and successfully speaks in the name of the President’s partner. Such symbolic use of ventriloquism led me to reflect on contemporary Turkish politics.

In her 2002 book, “Islamist Mobilization in Turkey: A Study in Vernacular Politics”, which focuses on the political Islamist leader Necmettin Erbakan’s Welfare Party (Refah Partisi – RP) in the 1990s, Jenny White argues that the success of the movement that carried Erbakan to the Prime Minister’s office lied in the ability of its grassroots mobilization, especially by women, at the neighborhoods. More specifically, based on her ethnographic work in Ümraniye (İstanbul), White identifies the main factor in RP’s success as its ability to engage in vernacular politics, “a value-centered political process rooted in local culture, interpersonal relations, and community networks, yet connected through civic organizations to national party politics” (p. 27). This argument, which also underlines the failure of the increasingly elitist secular Kemalist movements in failing to bridge the gap between the meaning worlds of the local neighborhoods with national politics, is firmly based in what is now identified as the post-Kemalist approach by its critiques. White’s study strongly resonates with the works of other “post-Kemalist” scholars such as Şerif Mardin and Nilüfer Göle, which also underlined the long-durée cultural rift in Turkish politics that historically limited the secular Kemalist movements in mobilizing the masses.

Another study that I always teach whenever I offer a course on Turkish politics, is Cihan Tuğal’s 2009 book, “Passive Revolution: Absorbing the Islamic Challenge to Capitalism,” that addresses the success of RP’s successor AKP, Recep Tayyip Erdoğan’s Justice and Development Party. Although benefitting from the post-Kemalist scholarship, Tuğal’s approach is firmly based in the Marxist framework to analyze how AKP – an unabashed proponent of neoliberalism – overcame the RP electorate’s resistance to free-market capitalism whilst keeping their votes. His argument in some ways reflects White’s argument, as both studies assign the RP or AKP (and their satellite civic organizations) the role of bridging the gap between the local and the national. Tuğal argues that it was the “pious business community” (such as MÜSİAD) that established a hegemonic position by transforming “the vision of pious popular sectors and activists, through the AKP” (p.8.) Simply put, Tuğal argues that the pious capitalists successfully erased the pious communities’ resistance to capitalism through the AKP. Tuğal identifies the capitalists as the major actor here, unlike White who focuses on the key role that the political party plays. However, there is a more important difference that separates these arguments for the purposes of this short speculative essay. For White, the success of the political movement is based on its ability to engage the local culture and community networks and link them to national politics. However, for Tuğal, a more sinister process is at play when the political movement turns into an instrument in not only bridging the gap between pious communities and national politics but also transforming these communities, i.e. gradually converting them into neoliberal subjects.

Although I have my reservations about the rather straightforward instrumental link that Tuğal proposes between the pious business community and the AKP, I think he successfully captures the key role that AKP played in representing and transforming different conservative subjectivities across Turkey. The issue I want to discuss further here is the extent of this transformation. When White, like several post-Kemalist scholars, attributed the success of the Islamist movements to their ability to engage in vernacular politics, we can talk about a dialogue here. The pious community had their own voice that was somewhat represented by the pious political movement to establish a firm link with national politics. In Tuğal’s argument however, we see that the pious community’s voice is gradually being transformed through a hegemonic process, to become more in line with unfettered free-market ideology of the capitalist actors.

When we come to the contemporary period, after approximately a quarter century of AKP rule, I am afraid there is now much more going on than simply representing or gradually transforming the pious community’s voice. As today’s pious communities are deeply embedded in AKP networks, (most of them infested with corruption and/or nepotism,) is there really a genuine or somewhat transformed vernacular language that needs representation at the national level there? Or, are we truly speaking about ventriloqual politics where individuals in today’s pious (!) communities have become the puppets of the ventriloquist, i.e. the AKP and its media, loaning their bodies, voices, and even consciences? This requires more refined theoretical work. Is “ventriloqual politics” the ultimate result of hegemony? Or, do we see the Turkish version of what Lisa Wedeen described as “politics of ‘as if’” in her 1999 book, “Ambiguities of Domination” for Syrians?: Public compliance under Hafez Assad’s weak cult, which people paid public lip-service to, but also courageously, and humorously shared their collective unbelief in it. As elites amass so much power, can they truly turn individuals in their zone of control into puppets? Surely, there must be a more intricate process here with some sort of resistance.

Talking about ventriloqual politics in contemporary Turkey is walking on dangerous terrain, not only politically but also for ethical reasons. Belittling or undermining pious subjectivities has traditionally been easy in Turkey for Kemalists (another case of ventriloqual politics?) and I do not want to fall into that trap here. Additionally, I do not have anything more than my experiences as someone who lives here in Istanbul, so this is all speculation, befitting the title of the blog. Yet, we are at a political juncture as the thrice-elected metropolitan mayor of İstanbul, and the main opposition party’s presidential candidate, Ekrem İmamoğlu is arrested on bogus charges. His college degree of 35 years is annulled. Some of his colleagues and protesters (most of them students) who demonstrated against these government decisions are also arrested. I am perplexed to read about, or personally hear, AKP supporters who do not hesitate to repeat the weak rationale for these legal decisions, presented by official or (AKP-funded or AKP-fearing) independent (!) media outlets. Simply put, there is no doubt about the government’s political motivations in blaming İmamoğlu with corruption, with no substantial evidence besides secret witnesses’ hearsay testimonies. As some AKP supporters unabashedly defend the arrest in their own personal networks, I am increasingly befuddled with this ventriloqual subjectivity. Is this complete evaporation of individual subjectivity to the extent that it becomes a tabula rasa to be continuously revised anew with each update of official discourses? Or does this reflect a hegemonic merger of official and individual interests (both material and symbolic) that continuously mass reproduces compliant but eager subjectivities? Is there any hint of resistance here somewhere?

Going back to the Residence: The producers of the show offered a critique of contemporary US politics: The rich and elite murderess (representing the capitalist) is the ventriloquist; the President’s partner (representing the transient politician) is the puppet; and the Chief Usher (representing the bureaucrat) that successfully ran the White House (representing the country) is murdered. However, I think the show’s symbolism has more sinister underpinnings for the Turkish case. Here, it is no longer just the politician who is the ventriloquist’s puppet, but other residents, who simultaneously represent the rest of the official bureaucracy and the public that have become replica puppets (wholeheartedly or in fear). This is no longer a comedy but a horror show. The entire bureaucracy and a significant portion of the public, as the ventriloquist’s puppets, have become zombie-like partners in the mindless annihilation of the country. I am afraid there are lessons for the American public to learn from the Turkish example about the direction they are headed towards.