The year is 1924. A gathering of fez-clad nobles of Ankara has been adjourned, only to find a casual sitting in the cafeteria of the National Assembly of Turkey. As sugar cubes are being circulated amongst the senators, a young but feared man enters the room. This anglicized and criticized voice of the erstwhile Young Turks movement is Mustafa Kemal Pasha. A microphone is presented to this unusual leader, who addresses the gathering with sharp words: “It is but our divine duty to stand for the people, despite the people." A feedback from the microphone chimes - almost in agreement - and with this screech of victory, the mighty Ottoman Empire breathes its last. One man had done what, for centuries, all other mighty empires collectively couldn’t. The empire that once saw its might spanning over Asia in the east, Africa in the south, and Europe in the west had now been reduced to yet another page in history. Over the years that followed, this man would come to be known as Atatürk - Father of the Turks. His political reign would mark some of the most significant chapters of Turkey’s history, from religious reforms that turned the revered mosque of Hagia Sophia into a museum of Turkish history - a bold step towards secularism in a predominantly monotheistic nation-to the transition of Turkish as a language from the erstwhile Arabic script to the Latin script, rewriting the legacy of the empire completely.
Turkey today, under the rule of Recep Tayyip Erdoğan, is witnessing a shift towards a more oriental and religious form of governance. Yet, the constant tiffs between the military leadership (placed as the protector of the liberal and secular values of the Turkish constitution by Atatürk) and the political class are a testament to his enduring legacy which is a foundation strong enough to still spark debate a century later.
"For the people, Despite the people", What does one even mean by that in a democratic setup? If people here refers to the general populace, it might at first sound as though the ruling class must act on the assumption that the masses do not know what is right for them, almost as if democracy itself breeds mistrust. Yet, when viewed more deeply, the phrase reveals a fundamental flaw that continues to haunt many young Asian democracies - the absence of political will. Too often, governance becomes a pursuit of quick fixes designed to secure short-term popularity at the ballot rather than long-term national progress. True leadership, however, demands courage - the courage to act in the interest of the people even when those actions are unpopular, the resolve to prioritize meaningful reform over easy applause. If a government can serve for the people while standing despite the people, it would mark the emergence of genuine political will and the beginning of a nation realizing its full potential.
I recall these thoughts as vividly as I recall an engaging conversation with a dear friend-someone deeply aware of the foundational challenges that India continues to wrestle with. As we spoke about fiscal devolution and its many structural hurdles, he remarked, “But this, like any other problem, goes down to the lack of political will in India. Nobody can afford to be the bad guy here.” Ever the optimist, I replied, “Well, can’t we fix it with some constitutional measures?” We laughed, fully conscious of the irony. Yet beneath that laughter lay a sobering truth-the quiet conviction, shared by many including myself, that some of India’s most persistent problems seem to await nothing more than a signature from the right person. But can a few elegant strokes of red ink on fragrant parchment truly undo decades of political caution and inertia? And beyond that, to what extent do we, as citizens, bear responsibility for the actions of the very government we chose to represent us?
I believe the answer lies, at least in part, in our collective appetite for risk. The average Indian is more risk-averse than a cat around water, and the social stigma attached to failing in pursuit of a noble cause often robs us of the courage to test unsteady ground. Pair this “if it’s not broken, don’t nudge it” attitude with a history of inter-faith and inter-community divides, and you arrive at the complex political temperament of the nation today. If there are two enduring truths that democracy has revealed over the years, they are these: people ultimately get the government they deserve, and what the government deserves is shaped by the aspirations of its people. Caught in this tango of desire between the governed and the governing, one can only hope that we either find the wings to rise above it-or the will to step into the ring and face it head-on.
