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Second Pan-European Conference
Standing Group on EU Politics

Bologna, 24-26 June 2004

76

Turkey, the EU and Security
Complexes Revisited

Presented by

Thomas Diez

Please note that there may be more paper
authors than paper presenters

http://www.jhubc.it/ecpr-bologna

Turkey, the European Union and Security Complexes Revisited

Thomas Diez, University of Birmingham, [email protected]

Paper for presentation at the Second Pan-European Conference on European Union,
organised by the ECPR Standing Group on European Union, Bologna, 24-26 June 2004.

FIRST DRAFT ONLY. Please note that references are incomplete. Do not quote or cite
without author’s permission.

5,433 words

Introduction

In 1999, in an article for the journal Survival, Barry Buzan and I proposed that the EU
and Turkey should look for alternatives to full Turkish EU membership (Buzan and Diez
1999). We argued that the linkage between the Europeanisation and the Westernisation
agenda would serve to reinforce, rather than transform the exclusionary practices of the
Kemalist state elite in Turkey. We were also concerned about the loss of Turkey’s status
as a buffer state, or “insulator”, between what we saw as a European and Middle Eastern
security complex, with the danger of the largely peaceful European security complex
being drawn into the conflicts of the Middle East. Finally, with further enlargement
rounds and an increasing number of members, we saw the EU developing more
differentiated forms of membership to accommodate different needs and possibilities of
member states.

We had thought of the article as a provocation, but interestingly, there have been very
few negative reactions, although the proposition of looking for membership alternatives
has hardly been taken up. Since 1999, however, a lot has changed to warrant a second
look at our earlier argument. The EU has now gone through its biggest enlargement since
the Treaties of Rome, with ten new members having joined on 1 May 2004. Even more
importantly for any assessment of Turkey-EU relations, the Helsinki European Council
granted Turkey membership candidacy status in 1999, taking a decisive step from the
rather more hostile attitude of the 1997 Council meeting in Luxembourg. Last but by no
means least, Turkish domestic and foreign politics has undergone what can only be called
a revolution: sweeping constitutional changes have been approved by Parliament, a party
with religious roots has been elected to form a single-party government, relationships
with Greece have become as between friendly neighbours, and the Turkish government

pressed for a solution in Cyprus and openly backed the UN Secretary-General’s plan for
the new constitution of a federal Cyprus Republic.

In the following section, I will summarise these changes in more detail and indicate the
challenge that they pose for the arguments in the original article by Buzan and myself. I
will then revisit the security, cultural and EU-differentiation arguments. The main thrust
of my argument is that the pursuit of an alternative to Turkish EU membership is at
present neither feasible (because it is seen by many Turks as second class membership)
nor prudent (because it would mean withdrawing support from political and civil society
actors working towards further change). In practice, however, it is at this stage far from
clear what “full membership” will mean for Turkey as a future member, as the EU’s
development will inevitably lead to further differentiation, and negotiations are likely to
be protracted.

Summarising the Changes

Developments in the EU

Since the 1990s, both the EU and Turkey have changed at a breathtaking path. On the EU
side, two developments stand out: the steps taken towards a European constitution and
the enlargement of May 2004. As far as the constitution is concerned, it is too early to
speculate about its impact on Turkey-EU relations. While an agreement between member
state governments has now been reached, it is far from certain that the constitution will
pass the referenda called in several member states. However, the draft constitution
continues a trend that has been a feature of EU politics especially since the Schengen
agreement on common border controls of some member states, and the Economic and
Monetary Union (EMU). In Article 43, it allows for “enhanced cooperation” among a
sub-set of member states. This is seen as a measure of ‘last resort’ to be used only if the
policy objective cannot be achieved by proceeding as a whole (Art. 43.2), but in a diverse
Union with increasing membership, it is likely that such cases will occur even more often
than in the past. Furthermore, if past experience is anything to go by, the referenda are
likely to lead to further opt-outs of those member states for which the integration process
is going too fast, or has reached the limits of the acceptable.

Enlargement comes into this as a decisive factor. On the one hand, one might expect
enlargement to increase Turkey’s chances of becoming a member, as the normative
pressure to include Turkey increases with its neighbours to the west all being members or
negotiating membership, and given that the eligibility of Turkey in principle has already
been established by the 1963 Association Agreement, and reaffirmed by its acceptance as
a membership candidate. On the other hand, enlargement raises questions about how
many members the Union can have before its institutions become too inefficient, and the
aim of “ever closer Union” gets undermined. The Draft Constitution is, in part, an
attempt to re-shape the EU institutions in the light of these challenges, after the Treaty of
Nice failed to make sufficient progress in this respect. Yet the failure of the first attempt
to agree on the text of the constitution because of disagreements between Germany,

Poland and Spain in particular about their respective number of votes in the Council,
made it clear how difficult it is to find a compromise in what is essentially a confederal
structure with a large number of members. The inclusion of Turkey, which so far has not
been included in the calculations for the distribution of votes in Council and Parliament,
will, given the size of the country, not make this task any easier.

Most importantly, however, enlargement will make enhanced cooperation, and therefore
further moves towards a system of “variable geometry” more likely. As an immediate
reaction to the initial failure to agree on the Constitution, several politicians from the
original six member states of the then European Communities floated the idea of quick
steps towards a “core” of EU member states with a higher degree of federalisation than
among the EU as a whole. The initiative came to nothing, and members agreed to further
pursue an agreement on the constitution, but the incident gave a flavour of the future
discussions on enhanced cooperation, and the possible shape of a future EU.

Developments in Turkey

In Turkey, at least three interconnected developments have had a profound impact on
Turkey-EU relations: the improved relationship between Turkey and Greece; the seven
constitutional reform packages approved by the National Assembly to bring Turkey’s
constitution in line with EU requirements; and the rise of the Justice and Development
Party (AKP) as a secular party with religious roots.

When the Luxembourg European Council rejected Turkey’s membership bid in 1997,
Greek-Turkish relations were at yet another low point. Disputes about the demarcation of
the border between the two countries in the Aegean, epitomised by the Irma/Kardak
crisis, and the continued stalemate in Cyprus had been just two sources of dispute. Yet, a
mix of violent earthquakes in 1999 and the coming to power of new politicians changed
the picture dramatically. The symbols of enmity were exchanged for symbols of
commonality and friendship. Indeed, Greek politicians like to see themselves nowadays
as champions of, rather than obstacles to Turkish EU membership, and have forced the
other member states, such as France and Germany, to come into the open with their own
position. When Kofi Annan presented the latest plan for the unification of Cyprus and put
it to as referendum on both sides of the divided island, both Greece and Turkey supported
the plan (even though the majority of Greek Cypriots did not). That the new “friendship”
between Greece and Turkey is not just a blip has been demonstrated by the fact that (so
far) it has survived rather radical changes in government on both sides over the past two
years.

Domestically, Turkey has made large steps towards meeting the so-called political
Copenhagen Criteria on democracy and human rights (for an overview, see Müftüler-Bac
2004). At the core of this have been seven constitutional reform packages, adopted
between 2001 and 2003. Among the reforms are the abolishment of the death penalty
during peace, the granting of cultural right to the Kurdish minority (TRT, the Turkish
state broadcaster, transmitted its first programme in Kurdish on 9 June 2004, although the

political significance of this is contested1), changes to the composition of the National
Security Council (NSC), including the appointment of a civilian as the secretary-general
of the Council, and provisions for the increased equality of men and women. At the same
time, Turkey’s economy underwent a series of reforms leading to a relative stabilisation
of the Turkish Lira.

These reforms were compounded by the absolute majority of seats in the National
Assembly won by the Justice and Development Party, or AKP, in the 2002 elections,
gaining 35.7% of the overall votes. While the exact nature of the AKP remains contested,
it is probably best described as a party with religious roots, but sticking to the secular
foundations of Turkish politics, and therefore as being similar to Christian Democratic
parties in other EU member states. The revolution of Turkish politics does not so much
lie in the fact that AKP won the elections (other religious parties have done so before),
but in the scale of its victory, its particular mix of religious and secular elements, the
meltdown of other parties, the fact that the military did not intervene, the stability of
government since the elections, and the determination with which the government has
pursued EU membership.

Challenges to the Turkey-EU argument

All of these factors challenge the analysis Buzan and I presented in 1999. The orientation
towards the EU raises questions about the status of Turkey as an insulator of security
complexes; the election of the AKP casts doubt on the argument that the conflation of
Westernisation and Europeanisation still plays into the hands of the secular elite and
limits the freedom of civil society; the prospect of a (con)federal, UN-backed solution in
Cyprus and the new Greco-Turkish friendship call for a closer binding of Turkey to the
EU than alternative arrangements. The following sections therefore revisit the different
aspects of the argument of the original article.

Revisiting the Security Argument

The security argument set out in the 1999 article is that Turkey “plays the role of an
insulator [between security complexes], a peripheral actor in all of the security regions
surrounding it … its main function, in practice, is to separate other regional security
dynamics from each other’ (Buzan and Diez 1999: 47). In other words, while Turkey is
active in Europe (not least through its membership in NATO and its association and
membership candidacy with the EU, but also through the Greco-Turkish conflict), the
Middle East (it has military links with Israel, and border disputes with Iraq and Syria, and
has repeatedly intervened in Iraq’s northern Kurdish regions) and the Commonwealth of
Independent States (CIS; Turkey maintains cultural but also political links with the
Turkic-speaking countries of Central Asia), its interactions with these security regions are

1 See ‘Kurdish Institute Istanbul: "What TRT does is an insult against Kurds"’,
http://www.dozame.org/article.php?story=20040606135824916 [20/06/04].

not sufficiently strong ‘to bring the different complexes together into one coherent
strategic arena’ (Buzan and Wæver 2003: 395).

This runs counter to the model of Turkey being a bridge between regions, or even
civilisations. Analytically, the idea of Turkey being an insulator is grounded in the theory
of Regional Security Complexes, which suggests that the international system can be
divided into such regions, in which security interactions, either conflictual (through
securitisation, i.e. the representation of existential threats legitimising extraordinary
actions such as, but not constricted to military force, against each other) or cooperative
(through the building of security communities and common attempts of desecuritisation,
i.e. the reduction of existential threat representations vis-à-vis each other and the
“normalisation” of politics), are more intense among its members than between its
members and those of another complex (Buzan, Wæver and de Wilde 1998; Buzan and
Wæver 2003). Between such complexes often lies an insulator that maintains security
interactions with all neighbouring complexes, but to a lesser degree than they can be
found within those complexes. Normatively, the role of the insulator is to provide
stability by preventing the security interactions from one region to spill over into another
one. In the case of Turkey, EU membership would bring Turkey more fully into the
European complex, with the consequence of the European, Middle Eastern and CIS
region directly bordering each other. This could possibly ‘lead to a direct entanglement of
the EU in the security dynamics of the Middle East and the CIS’. In addition, it would
also be in the interest of both Turkey and the EU ‘to prevent the growth of any linkages
between the security dynamics of the Middle East and those of the Balkans’ (Buzan and
Diez 1999: 47).

Leaving aside the question of whether Regional Security Complex Theory is in general a
good device to analyse security interactions on a systemic level, the changes outlined in
the previous section raise fundamental questions about the analytical utility and
normative direction of the argument regarding the Turkish case.

Buzan and Wæver (2003: 394-5) admit that Turkey is an unusual insulator in that its
security policy is in general much more active than one would expect from a state in such
a position. They are concerned that Turkey might become the regional power that it is in
its own self-image and therefore a pole in a new security complex of its own (but see also
the discussion in Kazan 2002). Yet given Turkey’s drive for membership, in particular
since the Helsinki Council, it is much more likely that Turkey can no longer be seen as
being outside the European security complex. While it remains in a somewhat peripheral
situation, and maintains its links to actors in the Middle East and the CIS, these have no
doubt become less important since the turn of the Millennium - and, in the case of CIS,
since the death of the former President Turgut Özal, who had been much more interested
in expanding Turkey’s influence eastwards after the Cold War than any of his successors
(see Jung and Piccoli 2001: 179-184). In addition, Turkey as a candidate has to align
itself with the EU’s Common Foreign and Security Policy (CFSP) as part of the
membership negotiations. One might regard CSFP as weak, but once cannot deny that it
has grown over the years, and its integration cannot be neglected (see e.g. Glarbo 1999).
All in all, it seems increasingly problematic to not view Turkey as a member of the

European Security Complex, unless a rejection or withdrawal of Turkey’s candidacy,
which is unlikely at this point in time, brings Turkey back to its position as an insulator,
and raises again the spectre of it becoming the pole of a new security complex.

Perhaps the more decisive question is however whether the normative implications of the
argument remain sensible. The original argument centred on the stability that Turkey as
an insulator was more likely to bring than Turkey as a member of the European Security
Complex. However, firstly, the membership of Cyprus has made this position outdated.
With Cyprus a member, the EU already borders the Middle Eastern complex directly,
although the security interactions between Cyprus and the Middle East are admittedly
less significant than in Turkey’s case. Secondly, the argument did not sufficiently take
into account that the security interactions within Europe are largely based on
desecuritisation, driven by the logic of integration within the EU. Wæver (1998) for
instance sees the EU as a security community in which conflicts are dealt with within the
defined rules of EU politics, rather than with a resort to security. Higashino (2004) argues
that the logic of “securitising to desecuritise” that is endemic to the integration process,
legitimised as necessary to maintain peace and stability in Europe, was also prevalent in
the justification of the EU’s eastern enlargement in May 2004. In this logic, stability is
achieved by incorporating new members, and desecuritising their security interactions
both with other EU members and on the EU’s outer borders. If this argument is applied to
the Turkish case, Turkey as a member of the EU would be a much better guarantor for
stability than Turkey as an insulator – especially if this is coupled with an effective
“European Neighbourhood” policy (on the latter, see Johansson-Nogués 2004).

The prospect of a permanent and peaceful solution to the Cyprus conflict, which is not
based on a partition of the island, has in the meantime become a strong security argument
in its own right in favour of pursuing Turkish membership. The support that the Turkish
government has given to the latest UN-proposed settlement, the so-called ‘Annan Plan’,
and the fact that it was rejected by a large majority of Greek Cypriots, but approved in the
referendum on the Turkish-Cypriot side, means that Turkey can no longer easily be
blamed for the island’s continued division. That a positive engagement towards the
unification of Cyprus is a precondition for EU membership, as Turkey would otherwise
be seen as occupying a significant part of an EU member state, was probably not the only
reason for the Turkish government’s decision to back the Annan Plan – there have, for
instance, also been quarrels about the financial cost of supporting the Turkish Republic of
Northern Cyprus -, but it was an important one. Without a membership perspective, it is
likely that the strategic arguments for maintaining a strong military presence in, and
therefore a separation of Cyprus, would prevail. Eventual Turkish membership would
also change the status of the de-facto border in Cyprus, even if there were no solution –
for instance, if the Greek Cypriots continued to block a settlement that is not following
fully their own views, although given that Cyprus is now an EU members state, this
would also be likely to lead to blocking Turkish EU membership. If such a scenario were
however to materialise, many Turkish Cypriots could travel feely in the EU through
Turkey, as many have Turkish passports, and the partition of the island would seem
increasingly outdated within a multi-level, multiple identity Europe. The question of
Turkish (and, for that matter, Greek) settlers in Cyprus would also become less

problematic, since the freedom of movement would cover them, too, although the issue of
the return of properties occupied since the Turkish intervention of 1974 would persist. All
in all, from a Cypriot perspective, the security arguments in terms of a permanent and
peaceful settlement on the island all speak in favour of Turkish membership.

Revisiting the Cultural Argument

At the core of the cultural argument against Turkey’s drive towards EU membership was
the linkage between “Europeanisation”, “Westernisation” and “modernisation”. Within
traditional Kemalist thinking, these three processes were seen as intimately linked, and
often used interchangeably. This led to at least two problems:

1. There was little recognition of the differences between “the West” and “Europe”.
The argument that Turkey should be rewarded with EU membership for its
contribution to the defence of Europe as a NATO member during the Cold War is
one example of this. EU membership in this context became a symbolic token for
being recognised as a fully Western/European power, rather than a commitment to
an integration project that would undermine notions of sovereign power. While
many present member states display similar realist tendencies at times, and are
currently engaged in complex discussions about the future of national
sovereignty, provoked by the agreement on a European Constitution, the status of
being recognised as a sovereign power seems to be even stronger amongst
Kemalist elites than elsewhere.

2. All three concepts are teleological in character, and as in traditional modernisation
theory, there was therefore only one possible successful path for Turkey’s future
in the minds of the Kemalist elite: an industrialising, secular, republican and
unified Turkey. There was consequently no realisation of the diverse paths of
modernisation, and the differences within “Europe” and “the West”. Furthermore,
underlying the construction of Europeanisation within the Kemalist discourse is a
strong version of the French model of a secular and indivisible republic. The
suppression of Kurdish culture as possibly leading to secession, and of Islamic
influences in politics and the development of society were therefore intimately
linked to the concept of Europeanisation.

EU membership within the Kemalist elite is a means to pursue Europeanisation in these
terms. It would give Turkey the deserved recognition as a major European power and
ensure its path towards a secular society within the republic of one Turkish nation. Such a
rendering of EU membership however flies into the face of the trends of understanding
the underpinning values of “Europe” at least from the 1980s onwards. These stress
democracy and human rights over secularism (consequently the condemnation of
Turkey’s handling of the Kurdish “problem”, but also of Islamist parties in the past); they
emphasise diversity and multiple identities over national unity (as signified in the trend
towards devolution across the old EU member states, with the possible exception of
Denmark); and despite the resistances towards integration in some countries, they

downplay hard notions of sovereignty (as evidenced by the increase in the speed and
depth of integration, and in particular the growing importance of majority voting within
the EU from the mid-1980s onwards).

Nowhere are the ironic effects of the Kemalist concept of Europeanisation more visible
than in the role of the military as safeguards of the republic (see also Jung and Piccoli
2001: 202). While elsewhere, military coups are most often executed in order to
safeguard the influence and power of the military, or a particular elite within the military,
in modern Turkey, the military has normally intervened to safeguard the secular,
republican democracy (Heper 2004). Such coups therefore led to the relatively quick re-
instalment of a civilian government that had the trust of the military to lead Turkey back
onto the path of Eurpeanisation. The effects of this tradition of military interventions,
also signified in the now reduced influence of the military over the NSC, of course stood
in stark contrast to what many people in EU member states would see as the core values
of Europe. Above all, they cemented the influence of the military, and violated core
principles of democracy and human rights.

In such a constellation, ‘to strengthen the … Westernisation movement is to deny many
Turks their right to cultural self-determination’ (Buzan and Diez 1999: 45). ‘The
Kemalist project’ is therefore ‘problematic, both because of its narrow definition of what
it means to be “European”, and because many Turkish citizens are unwilling to see their
own cultural heritage erased” (ibid.: 49). This judgement of 1999 still holds for parts of
the Kemalist elite in Turkey. However, the rise of the AKP made it clear that this
statement also underestimated the degree to which those “unwilling to see their cultural
heritage erased” could seize the prospect of EU membership to propagate a notion of
Europeanisation that would strengthen their own power, but would also be more in line
with the much more decentralised, “postmodern” notion of what “Europe” means.

The prospect of EU membership (or at least the opening of membership negotiations) has
therefore not led to a strengthening of the Kemalist elite, partly because of the
contradictions between the two rather incompatible conceptualisations of “Europe”
outlined above. Instead, it demonstrated the EU’s “compulsory”, “enabling” and
“connective” power (Diez, Stetter, Albert 2004): It compelled the Turkish government to
constitutional reforms once there was a concrete membership prospect; it enabled the
AKP in particular to legitimise those reforms when they would otherwise not have been
seen legitimate; and it provided a platform for the AKP to forge links with other domestic
and European actors (see the discussion in Rumelili 2004).

These aspects of EU power are not unconditional. They rest on a firm commitment to EU
membership, and they were closely interrelated to domestic social, economic and
political changes within Turkey. While the concrete relations between the prospect of EU
membership, broader transnational transformations and domestic change needs to be
further explored, the most likely role that the EU membership prospect played was that of
a reference point that could be used by and strengthened alternative domestic actors. A
withdrawal of the membership perspective would remove that reference point, and
therefore run the risk of damaging the status of those actors. The cultural argument

against membership and in favour of an alternative relationship between Turkey and the
EU is therefore turned on its head.

Revisiting the Differentiation Argument

The idea of an alternative relationship between Turkey and the EU rested on the
understanding that the development of more differentiated forms of membership were an
imperative for an enlarging Union: ‘The basic conflict between the EU’s deepening and
widening cannot be fudged or wished away: there are limits as to how many member
states with very different histories can be included in a supranational union based on a
single acquis communautaire’ (Buzan and Diez 1999: 52-53). The result would be a
Europe of variable geometry, increasing current trends towards diversification in which
‘there are already many states that are inside for some purposes and outside for others’
(ibid.: 53), but most likely also leading to a set of states forming a “core” of integration in
that they participate in all supranationally organised policy areas.

As I have argued above, this trend towards more differentiation within the Union is
indeed intensifying. In a Union of 25+, any other solution would be nonsensical: it cannot
be that those member states that want to integrate further (in particular the original six of
the Treaty of Rome) are held back by the unwillingness of other, and often only a few
member states, as long as intensified integration is always open to all member states. If
anything, the 1999 argument about alternatives to full membership therefore remains
valid. Indeed, the most likely outcome of membership negotiations between Turkey and
the EU is that there will be a number of opt-outs and, possibly long-term, transition
periods. Of course, by name Turkey will be a full member of the EU – but the EU will no
longer be the coherent polity that some think it currently is, despite the already existing
differentiation.

This outcome would also be a solution to the acceptability problem of an alternative to
membership. Since 1999, such alternatives were floated again and again, and for different
reasons, last by German Christian Democrat leader Angela Merkel. The response in
Turkey was always the same, and in this respect the domestic changes did not make a
difference: Turkey was seeking full membership, and any alternative was seen as a
second-class membership. The symbolic value of EU membership as signifying the
becoming of a fully accepted power in Europe has therefore not changed. The increasing
differentiation within the EU however allows the symbolic token to be granted, while
achieving de facto a set of alternative relationships, albeit within the EU rather than
between the EU and, in this case, Turkey. The overall effect remains that ‘the EU does
not have, and should not aspire to have, a single border’ (Buzan and Diez 1999: 53).

Conclusion

The aim of this paper was to critically reconsider the argument that Turkey and the EU
should search for alternatives to full Turkish EU membership in the light of the domestic

changes in Turkey, and the changes in Greek-Turkish relations, as well as the
developments of the EU since 1999. This argument rested on three pillars: that security
on a systemic level is better guaranteed by insulators between security complexes, such
as Turkey between Europe, the Middle East and the CIS; that the particular concept of
Europeanisation within Kemalism led to exclusionary policies and was out of line with
dominant conceptions of core “European” values; and that the EU was moving towards
more differentiated forms of governance that called for variations in membership.

I have suggested in this paper that the security and cultural (Europeanisation) argument
be reversed in the light of the changes since 1999, while the differentiation argument has
been reinforced. The security argument is challenged in particular by Cypriot EU
membership, and the struggle to find a permanent and peaceful non-partition solution to
the Cyprus conflict. Furthermore, it neglected the desecuritising, and therefore stabilising
nature of the European integration process. The cultural argument is turned on its head by
the rise of the AKP (and other civil society actors), using EU membership as a reference
point and thereby redefining the meaning of “Europeanisation” in a Turkish context.
However, the differentiation of governance within the EU is continuing.

As a consequence of this reconsideration, the continued pursuit of such membership, and
the opening of membership negotiations should replace the search for alternatives to
Turkish EU membership. However, I have also argued that a set of derogations and opt-
outs within an increasingly differentiated Union is likely to be the outcome of such
negotiations. This allows Turkey to become a full member, while at the same time some
of the arguments in favour of membership alternatives are being heeded.

Of course, decisions about membership are not only, and perhaps not even primarily
about security and political culture. Indeed, once membership negotiations have begun,
grand political considerations give way to the technical discussions about the
implementation of the acquis communautaire, the legal structure of the Union. Economic
and administrative capabilities become more important than notions of “Europe” or
human rights. In part, this is because the latter issues should have been settled before
membership negotiations are begun. Yet it is also because behind the negotiations about
technicalities stand our understandings of what the EU and its acquis really are. This
leads to (re)constructions of “Europe” among member states as much as it challenges the
constructions of “Europe” in the applicant states. In Turkey’s case, if negotiations take
place, there will be considerable obstacles in terms of economic and administrative
capabilities – but there will also be questions about the extent to which EU membership
is still above all a symbol of being accepted as a European power; about the degree to
which supranationality is accepted as a defining concept of European integration; and
about how much integration the majority in Turkey is willing to accept.

The opening of membership negotiations would therefore not mean that we would see
Turkey as an EU member any time soon. So far, all membership negotiations have
eventually led to membership. This may, however, not always be the case, and as far as
Turkey is concerned, it cannot be excluded that it is a future Turkish government that
abandons negotiations because the prize to pay is seen to high in relation to the aim of



Wæver, Ole (1998), ‘Insecurity, security, and asecurity in the West European non-war
community’, in Emanuel Adler and Michael Barnett (eds), Security Communities
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press), 69-118.