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The Red Republic, the Guardians of Atatürk

Jay

Dokkaebi
GA Member
Oct 3, 2018
3,207
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Down below, in the recessed courtyard, two unmarked Mercedes sedans idled under the muted hum of sodium lights. The drivers, both warrant officers, did not meet each other’s gaze. Brigadier Levent Bozkurt stepped from the rear seat of the second vehicle, his boots crunching softly on the gravel. His overcoat, an austere black wool with a muted general’s insignia pinned at the collar, swept behind him as he ascended the shallow marble steps. No salutes exchanged. No staff to greet him. The building had been placed, officially, on “command staff rotation,” a thin euphemism masking the purge underway across the officer corps.

The corridors of the Defense Security Command building were dimly lit, stripped of their usual bustle. Only a skeleton staff remained, the others had been dispatched under the pretext of a weekend readiness exercise. Outside, the November air hung cold and still over Ankara, the low hum of armored vehicles occasionally breaking the silence as units discreetly repositioned across the capital.

Inside the conference chamber on the third floor, General Arda Yılmaz sat alone, sifting through a dossier thick with personnel assessments. His expression was sharp, but unhurried looking at the lists of dismissals and detentions. Across from him, Major General Erdem Alpaslan, commander of the 1st Army’s Western Zone, nursed a glass of çay, his fingertips resting lightly on the rim as if steadying himself against the unspoken.

Bozkurt entered without ceremony. He removed his coat and placed his sidearm on the lacquered walnut table. Neither of the other men reacted. They had all taken similar precautions.

Bozkurt broke the silence first.
"General Yılmaz, General Alpaslan," he said, voice low, "thank you for coming. I assume you've seen the latest orders."

General Arda Yılmaz, Commander of the Northern Regional Forces, gave a curt nod. His uniform bore no insignia save the crescent-star badge over his heart, a quiet protest against the new loyalty oaths being circulated by the Ministry. "The Revolutionary Guard has begun assuming control of two corps-level units near İzmit," Yılmaz said, his voice clipped. "Three more brigades in the east have been disarmed and 'restructured' under their supervision."

General Veysel Kurt, commander of an Armored Division outside Istanbul, leaned back slightly, fingers drumming once on the chair’s arm. "It is no longer a purge," Kurt said. "It is a reformation."

A thin, brittle silence followed. Outside, a Kirpi's engine revved, distant but distinct. Bozkurt adjusted his seating. "Our intelligence suggests the National Security Council will issue a decree within four months, formally transferring military policing powers to the People's Revolutionary Guard Corps. The General Staff is being hollowed from the inside."

Yılmaz’s expression hardened, the tendons along his jaw tightening. "We have lost our momentum," Bozkurt said. "The regime is now stripping the Armed Forces of its autonomy, neutering the senior officer corps, and reshaping the Republic's institutions in their image. If we wait, they will succeed."

Kurt’s eyes narrowed. "And if we move prematurely, we risk a civil fracture," he said. "The 1st Army in Istanbul remains...uncertain. So does the Air Force. Naval Command may lean neutral, but the Coastal Security Units have already received new directives from the Interior Ministry."

Bozkurt leaned forward, his hands folded. “Which is precisely why we are here. The Komünist are no longer content with purging their political opponents. They have widened the aperture. Anyone senior, anyone critical to operational command and control, Army, Navy, even portions of the Jandarma, is now under suspicion. You saw the decree last night?”

Kurt nodded once. “Extension of Revolutionary Oversight to theater commands. Yes.”

Yılmaz’s gaze hardened. “They intend to gut the high command and reconstitute under political loyalists. The president wants a guard force, not a general staff.”

Bozkurt closed the dossier. “I take it, then, that you have spoken to the General Staff Chief?”

Yılmaz exhaled evenly. “He is sympathetic. But not committed. His leverage vanished when Arslan arrested eight of his deputies and dismissed his staff officers. He will not move unless presented with a fait accompli.”

Bozkurt interjected, voice now weighted with tempered conviction. “Halit… do not mistake me. I have no appetite for juntas or martial proclamations. But there are times when the Army must safeguard the state when civil institutions collapse under ideological capture. I will not see the republic inherited by paramilitaries who wear red bands and call it constitutionalism.”

Kurt leaned forward, elbows resting on the polished wood. "We have a window," he said. "It is narrow. We have loyal elements within the 2nd Army, portions of the Gendarmerie, and key airbases around Konya and Malatya. If we coordinate correctly, we can seize the communication hubs, isolate the People's Guard leadership, and stabilize the political center before a counter-response is organized."

Yılmaz nodded once. "Order, not chaos," he said, echoing a principle that previous military officials have expressed when looking at the state of their republic. Finally, Yılmaz rose to his feet. "We must wait for the people to take to the streets. We need the people to call for us so we can arrive as their saviors and live up to the name Guardians of Atatürk. They must call so we can answer.”

Bozkurt closed the folder in front of him, the soft click of paper against wood sounding louder than it should have. "And if the people don’t rise up?" He asked.

Yılmaz’s gaze was flint.
“Then we don’t move. Without the will of the people, we don’t have a revolution, we have a mutiny. And mutinies fail. What all successful coups have in common are five key elements: control of the media, control of the economy, and the capture of administrative targets. To achieve that, you need the fourth element, the loyalty of the military. Now, if this were some third-rate country, this can be accomplished with a handful of battalions. But here we would need to secure Parliament, the bureaucracy, the Ministry of Defense, and the Cabinet Office. The Prime Minister and President would be arrested, of course, along with other politicians who remained loyal. We’d have to shut down the airports, air traffic control, and train stations. Curfews would be put in place. Martial law declared.

And I haven’t even mentioned the police. It would take tens of thousands of unquestionably loyal servicemen. Which brings me to the fifth element: legitimacy. Our governments have drawm their strength from long-established institutions, and a commitment to Kemalism. In democracies that legitimacy comes from the courts, the body of common law, the Constitution. For any action against the state to succeed, you’d have to overthrow these as well. The communists have made it easier for us by undermining and tainting those core elements of legitimacy. There is no respect for courts, the laws, or the constitution. Only for mob violence and rule. Patience is our ally.” He took a step forward. “We must exploit our advantage, the power of time.”

Kurt looked at him. “And when we lose that advantage…when the masses rally to the regime and see it as their saviour, not us…what will your pacifism say then?”

Yılmaz’s gaze lowered to Kurt. “Who said anything about pacifism?”
 

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