When the Justice and Development Party (AK Party) came to power in 2002, no one foresaw that, by 2028, it would still be in government after 26 years. Let’s be clear from the start: there’s nothing wrong with not having foreseen it. The problem lies in the cyclical cliches and misguided analyses that those advising the opposition have been unable to abandon.
Both the institutional opposition and anti-AK Party journalists and commentators have continually predicted the government’s downfall. Before every election, they declared, “This time they’re definitely losing.” When the AK Party managed to stay in power, they shifted to blaming the electorate, accusing voters of ignorance. They insulted them with terms like “bucket-heads,” “belly-scratchers,” “macaroni-eaters.” They could not hide their contempt.
Commentators who claim to guide the opposition were often quicker than the opposition parties themselves in offering excuses for every defeat. They alleged “election security problems.” They said, “The government controls the media.” Politicians they had previously praised to the skies were, after a loss, dragged through the mud. The same candidates they had once defended fiercely were now mocked and belittled.
And yet, when the next election cycle arrived, they repeated the very same predictions: “This will be the AK Party’s last election.” Afterward, the cycle began anew. At no point did they acknowledge their own share of responsibility in the opposition’s repeated defeats. Not once did they admit, “We were wrong in our forecasts.” They never had the courage to say they had misled the opposition and its supporters.
The reason I begin with this reminder is clear: those who claim to shape public opinion in favor of the opposition still refuse to accept that bad analysis cannot lead to the right path. They have shown little regard for values like consistency, authenticity or credibility.
These days, they continue insisting on flawed analyses, trying to pin the main opposition People’s Republican Party (CHP)’s multilayered crisis entirely on the government. They argue that the government is seeking to neutralize the opposition through the judiciary. They dismiss as “political cases” even those corruption allegations raised by former CHP members against politicians who later attached themselves to the party.
They go so far as to claim that Mustafa Kemal Atatürk’s party itself is being liquidated. They do not hesitate to say that “a new regime is being established” and “secularism is being dismantled” through judicial means.
Yet long-time CHP members themselves argue that it is not the government, but rather the newcomers using municipal resources to redesign the party, who are pushing Atatürk's party off its axis. In other words, those actually hollowing out the CHP are not external forces, but those who have latched onto it from within.
Before the election, they described Kemal Kılıçdaroğlu as a “political guru” who would “leapfrog Türkiye forward.” Afterward, they derided him, belittled him and mocked him.
Journalists advising the CHP do not propose solutions that could resolve the party’s internal power struggles. Why? Because if they spoke candidly about the real roots of the crisis and the accusations that the “delegates’ will was manipulated,” the blame would inevitably fall on them as well.
Thus, the cycle continues. The old habit of predicting the AK Party’s demise now takes the form of saying, “Because it will lose the election, the government is using the judiciary to destroy the opposition.” Just as before, they cite vague, unverified polls and proclaim: “This time they’re definitely finished.”
Any analysis of the future of politics offered by these self-styled advisers must be judged against the accuracy of their past claims. And by that measure, what they are saying today is nothing more than a tired repetition of the same cyclical cliches.
