I would like to take a moment to detail the political developments in Turkey between 1999 and the 2002 elections that brought the AKP to power as a single-party government. The AKP's electoral victory was so significant that even the party itself was taken by surprise, struggling at first to grasp the full extent of its newfound power and how best to wield it. Such was the scale of their success that even candidates placed low on the party lists—those who would not typically stand a chance of being elected—secured seats in parliament.
I was personally involved in every major stage of this transformative period. My experiences during this time are unique; I believe no one else in Turkey or beyond can claim to have lived through these events in the same way. For over 20 years, these issues have remained largely unexplored on an international platform, but now I am sharing them with the global audience of TPQ. From 1993, when I began forming my movement, until 2006, I participated in every significant political event and meeting. These are not merely historical accounts—they are deeply personal experiences. The knowledge I have from this period is unparalleled, as I was directly involved in shaping the course of events.
A Look Back at the 1999 Coalition
The Ecevit-led DSP/MHP/ANAP coalition, formed in April 1999, was largely a U.S.-led and organized initiative—a coalition doomed from the start for several reasons. Since the civilian transition from the military regime, under the leadership of Turgut Özal, the United States consistently supported center-right parties in Turkey. Having moved to Turkey in 1984 and developed a close personal relationship with Özal, I was granted a rare political perspective on how decisions were made behind closed doors. Özal provided me with an invaluable "political window," one that deepened my understanding of how international politics directly influences domestic affairs.
It became clear to me over time that many political actors present themselves to international audiences—particularly in Washington, D.C.—to secure support for their movements or leadership ambitions. For the record, I never engaged in this practice. The thought never even crossed my mind. Why would I, having grown up in Washington and knowing everyone involved, seek political support there for my work in Turkey? I had assumed there were intelligent decision-makers in Washington who would recognize the unique value of me and the ARI Movement and extend the support we needed. Unfortunately, the opposite happened.
It became evident that I was "not their man," and instead, they targeted me personally, employing every political weapon at their disposal to undermine me and my work. Looking back, it was a colossal waste—of time, money, and countless trips to Turkey for those who worked on this misguided project. I will elaborate further on this in the future, but it remains a stark example of how international and domestic politics often intertwine in counterproductive ways.
By this time, Mesut Yılmaz had completely dismantled the party structure, leaving virtually nothing behind. The party had turned into a one-man show—the Mesut Yılmaz show. Every single decision within the party was made solely by him. However, he lacked the ability to manage such a vast and complex network, involving thousands of people across Turkey. This inability to lead effectively was one of the main reasons my ARI Movement became fully independent in 1998.
Yılmaz was infuriated by our decision to break away, and in retaliation, I believe he instructed the ministers in his government to undermine me and my movement. His approach was going as far as offering false promises of party positions to others in an attempt to maintain control. But ANAP was already in rapid decline, losing voter support every single day. I could see what was on the horizon. I knew that the next election would be ANAP’s last in parliament, and this was precisely what happened in November 2002. The party was effectively on life support, and its demise was inevitable.
During this period, at the ARI Movement's 1998 yearly summit, I told the remaining members that ANAP was destined to die and cease to exist, while the ARI Movement would persist and eventually become a significant political force in Turkey. From March 1997 to August 1998, I dedicated my time to traveling across the country, visiting every member of the movement in their homes or offices. For those who chose to leave, I told them face-to-face that they were making a mistake.
At the time, Turkey’s political landscape was dominated by a triangle of media, civil society, and politicians, all of whom dismissed me as crazy. These decision-makers—key figures shaping Turkey’s future—were, in my view, complicit in the country’s decline. Their indifference to Turkey’s long-term well-being was apparent. However, my predictions proved accurate. ARI outlasted ANAP by a significant margin.
My reasons for leaving ANAP had nothing to do with AKP and everything to do with my mistrust of U.S. officials. For a long time, I had little faith in their approach to Turkey. Something tells me that even President Clinton shared concerns about how Turkey was being managed before I met with him in 1999. Clinton could have taken a more proactive stance earlier if he had been provided with accurate information.
During the 1990s, Clinton initially supported Tansu Çiller but later pivoted to backing Islamic figures behind closed doors, promoting their dominance in Turkey. This policy left Turkey with no meaningful political opposition. CHP, even before Kemal Derviş joined, was ineffective, and its failures only deepened after his departure in 2005. Deniz Baykal’s political leadership was a complete failure, which paved the way for AKP’s ongoing consolidation of power. I firmly believe Clinton would not have approved of this long-term strategy for Turkey, especially after gaining a better understanding of the country and its extended regional dynamics.
By 1999, there was nothing left for my opponents to destroy, so they turned their attention to attacking me personally. However, this only made me stronger and more self-confident. I elevated my political platform to unprecedented heights. By 1998, we had gone international, and by November 1999, I hosted President Clinton. Heading into the new century, we were recognized as a groundbreaking political movement for the entire region, not just Turkey. There will never be another movement like ARI in Turkey—that much is certain. In my eyes, Turkey is permanently out of this path.
I tried to convey to those who supposedly cared about Turkey's future that this was a critical moment to take ownership of the movement, but I quickly realized no one cared. It seemed no thought was given to how future generations would cope. So, leaving the movement overnight was not a difficult decision for me. I personally hoped for Al Gore to win in 2000; had he succeeded, I believe the world would have been a better place. After hosting Clinton, I eagerly anticipated the 2000 Democratic National Convention, where I was invited as a VIP guest. It was one of the most remarkable events in my political life—flawless in execution. While Gore wasn’t a natural speaker, his political pedigree and family background impressed me. I knew his family well from DC functions, and they embodied the qualities I valued.
The Changing Geopolitical Tides and How We Came to This Moment
When the U.S. captured Abdullah Öcalan during Ecevit’s minority government, the political forecast for early elections shifted dramatically. In April 1999, DSP emerged as the leading party, relegating Yılmaz to a surprising second place. This unexpected result frustrated Yılmaz, who blamed the Americans for interfering. He had been positioning himself to lead a coalition government and eventually run for president in 2000, with broad support from business circles like TÜSİAD. However, Yılmaz lacked a coherent EU policy, despite TÜSİAD’s backing.
After I brought Yılmaz to Washington, D.C., he failed to follow up on any of the groundwork I laid. His poor English skills and preference for Germany—he was German-educated and fluent in the language—hindered his ability to engage with Americans effectively. The U.S. ultimately supported Ecevit, propping him up as their preferred partner, even though their relationship unraveled before 9/11 when Ecevit refused to support plans for an invasion of Iraq.
The instability within Turkish politics, combined with weak U.S. decision-making, led to predictable conflicts. I witnessed this firsthand, engaging with ANAP figures who sought to undermine Ecevit’s government to weaken Yılmaz. One of the people who brought this coalition to an end was a minister who I knew personally, Yasar Okuyan, who recently passed away. He was one of the few in the party who had principles. On the other hand, dealing with Americans like Mort Abramowitz was far worse. Abramowitz, affiliated with a think tank later associated with Obama’s administration, epitomized heartless, ineffective decision-making.
Obama’s presidency, in my view, was disastrous. His policies contributed to global instability, and his legacy alienated even his core constituencies. The think tank culture he championed, particularly the Center for American Progress, failed to deliver meaningful contributions. This incompetence paved the way for Trump’s victory in 2016 and the mess the world faces today. I outlined these issues in my work What Is Wrong with America, where I also highlighted Biden’s disastrous policies, which nearly led to World War III.
In Turkey, those associated with the various key players in Open Society—were equally destructive. Their influence, contributed to the erosion of Turkey’s political and social fabric. Soros’s global meddling remains a source of havoc, and his partnerships in Turkey accelerated the decline of the ARI movement. I learned if someone ELSE controls your destiny you and your surroundings are in big trouble. Soros combined with the worst possible Turks in Turkey and worst Americans around the world to destroy me and my movement, along with other elements at the same time.
Kemal Derviş, appointed as Economic Minister by Ecevit, played a crucial role in preventing Turkey from defaulting on its debts. While he was a brilliant economist, his grasp of politics was naïve. He misunderstood the dynamics of Turkish leftist politics and initially relied on outdated rhetoric, which I advised him to abandon in favor of terms like "social democrat." Despite being positioned as a potential leader for DSP or CHP, he lacked the political instincts to navigate Turkey’s turbulent landscape.
When Derviş moved to Istanbul after his ministry, I offered him office space at the ARI HQ. Together, we formed the Foreign Policy and Economics Forum, a key initiative to link economics and international politics. While Derviş eventually embraced this vision, his reluctance to engage in fundraising or political maneuvering limited his effectiveness. Over time, members of ARI conspired with Derviş to sideline me and take control of the Forum. They ultimately formed a new institute, abandoning ARI’s principles and aligning with TÜSİAD and AKP figures for their personal agendas.
The ARI movement, which I dedicated 18-hour days to for over a decade, was unsustainable without adherence to its founding values. Many members exploited the platform for personal advancement, trampling on the rules they had once pledged to uphold. The movement’s transformation into a vehicle for opportunism marked its demise, along with the broader decline of Turkey’s political integrity. Unfortunately, some among us exemplified this trend, shifting allegiances based on personal gain rather than principles. In the end, I saw that ARI’s unique vision could not survive in such an environment. The movement’s collapse, like the broader failures in Turkish politics, reflected a lack of values and long-term vision among its leaders.
All the rules and regulations of ARI, which members had pledged to follow upon joining, were ultimately trampled upon. Our exclusivity was grounded in genuine values and principles—values that most members failed to uphold. Had ARI transitioned into a political party, it would have ended in chaos—my chaos, to be specific. The self-serving decisions of these individuals not only contributed to ARI’s downfall but also accelerated Turkey’s broader political and social decay. Some of these people continue to profit from spreading misinformation, betraying the very principles they once claimed to represent.
Unfortunately, many in Turkey follow the same trajectory, opportunistically shifting their allegiances to suit their personal gains. They drift like leaves in the wind, carried wherever convenience takes them. Their trajectory underscores the broader issue: such individuals are emblematic of a political culture that prioritizes opportunism over principle. Their actions contributed not only to the erosion of ARI but also to the broader collapse of political integrity in Turkey.