Differences in role orientation among Turkish MPs

Studies on Turkish MPs have often focused on aggregate data. However, the differences in behaviour and style of individual MPs are a dimension of Turkish political life familiar even to the occasional observer. It seems important to try to grasp these differences in terms of parliamentary roles¹.

[2] Because the study of parliamentary roles has mainly developed in Western legislatures and more specifically in the US, parliamentary roles have often been defined referring to the US model. More recently, alternative role models have been developed for European countries (Searing (1994) for Great Britain, Andeweg (1997) for the Netherlands). It seems interesting to ask the same questions for Turkey, taking into account the specificities of its institutional system. However, there are few studies devoted to political roles in Turkey (Kalaycıoğlu 1995). It would, therefore, seem too ambitious to develop an alternative model of roles in the limited scope of this study. Rather, we shall address the determinants of role-orientations of Turkish MPs.

[3] In order to understand their role orientation, it seems important to look at the legislators’ background. Although it is clearly misleading to infer a direct causal link between social background and legislative role, one may assume that MPs’ role orientation is partly the consequence of their previous social trajectories and of their involvement in spaces which are distinct from official politics. MPs act with practical knowledge, technical know-how, ideological orientations and moral convictions that they have acquired during various experiences previous to their investiture. Therefore, drawing mainly on biographic indicators, it seems necessary to analyse the resources at their disposal. Which forms of socialization and involvement have preceded the mandate (family and local socialization, school and university training, career choice, spiritual activities, associative involvement, union and political activism, conditions of entry in political career)? What kind of know-how can they invest and use in political life (Nay 2003: 543)?

[4] In his classical work (1978), Fenno studies what he calls ‘home styles’, i.e. how legislators act when dealing with their constituents. The author travels with congressmen from all over the US. This article, on the contrary, focuses only on the Parliament, since I did not have the practical possibility to accompany deputies to their constituencies. Therefore, it deals with what can be called ‘parliamentary styles’. However, I adopt a broad vision of the Parliament (Abélès 2000; Nay 2003). This work is not limited to the legislative Assembly’s official sessions, but includes all the practices that deputies undertake within the framework of their electoral mandate and of the parliamentary institution (plenary sessions, committees, working groups, parliamentary groups, lobbies, etc.) as well as their protracting parliamentary activities outside the Assembly (missions, parliamentary delegations, informal exchanges with interest groups or the bureaucracy) (Nay 2003: 538-539, n. 7). As a matter of fact, elective mandates are not limited to deliberative work. They imply being involved in social work and maintaining links with different audiences both inside and outside the Assembly. Nor is the Assembly isolated from the broader social world. Therefore, I am careful to not look only at the floor of the Chamber. This article aims at trying to link parliamentary role orientation to multiple investments of legislators, in the formal and informal spaces where the career of a representative is being shaped (Nay 2003: 539, 545).

[5] Answering this question does not imply studying all the kinds of elected people: it suffices to observe some of them, the way they act in various situations of interaction (Lagroye 1994). Therefore, even if it draws from existing quantitative data, this study is rather qualitative and inductive. It is inspired by Searing’s argument that it is preferable to let the roles emerge from what MPs themselves say about their experiences (Searing 1994:13, 26-28). The main source is in-depth interviews with MPs. Due to the practical difficulty of reaching a larger group who would represent a cross-section of the deputies; I have interviewed a limited number of MPs, thirteen in total. I could not have full control over the sample since the MPs often accepted to be interviewed only if I was being personally introduced to them. Intermediaries - academics2 and party groups – had a tendency to introduce me to specific kinds of MPs. This has its importance in terms of role-orientation. Therefore, this research can not claim to offer a representative sample. However, I paid special attention to this bias and tried to correct it by choosing MPs as diverse as possible. The sample includes MPs from different parties, who, in addition, belong to the opposition as well as to the majority. The majority of them is from the current (22^nd) legislature, but three of them are former MPs (one in the 20^th, two in the 21^st legislature). Two of them had been elected several times, and three have ministerial experience. Therefore, the group includes both long-term politicians and newcomers, with different levels of party affiliation. The MPs interviewed were chosen from among various parliamentary committees. The group includes different professional backgrounds (see the main characteristics of interviewed MPs in Appendix 1). The interviews were conducted in Turkish between October 2004 and April 2005. They generally took place in the deputies’ offices in the TBMM, sometimes at their office outside the Parliament, in restaurants and/or at their home. Interviews lasted one and a half hour to four hours. When possible, several interviews were conducted with the same person. The names of the MPs are kept anonymous throughout the essay3.

[6] Interviews, with open-ended questions, focus on their biographies, social backgrounds, political career, attitudes toward their party and position in the party, personal resources, relations to the constituency, parliamentary activities, and their representation of roles. When possible, informal and ‘off-the-record’ conversations were conducted with MPs themselves, but also their secretaries and assistants. Whenever it was possible as well, I made observation of their behaviour. Other sources include information collected from documentary sources such as the TBMM’s website⁴, albums and newspapers. Besides, most MPs interviewed for this study held very ordered files about their activity as MPs, gather their speeches, law proposals, question motions, press-books, etc. These private archives are quite easily accessible to the researcher and constitute a valuable source. Finally, two interviews were conducted with parliamentary correspondents of national media.

[7] The first part addresses the strong differentiation of roles among Turkish MPs. The second part deals with the three main factors affecting the role orientation of individual MPs: first and foremost their relationship to the party, then their non-partisan, mostly professional, skills and finally the social support they enjoy.

[8] According to role theory, a role is the pattern of behaviour and cluster of attitudes expected from persons occupying a given position in a social structure. Wahlke et al. define a legislative role as ‘a coherent set of ‘norms’ of behaviour, which are thought by those involved in the interactions being viewed, to apply to all persons who occupy the position of legislator. It is important to emphasize the normative aspect of the concept (…) The concept postulates that legislators are aware of the norms constituting the role and consciously adapt their behaviour to them in some fashion’ (1962: 8).

[9] However, roles are often highly complex and multi-dimensional. According to Merton, each position in a social structure is associated not with a single role, but with a specific ‘role-set’5. Parliamentarians are an example in point, since they interact with a host of individuals and groups whose ‘patterned expectations’ of a deputy’s role behaviour may vary (Merton 1957:368). As a matter of fact, the role expectations held by parliamentarian peers in the Assembly, by party activists, by constituents or by interest-group representatives may differ from each other, as they may differ from the MP’s own definition of his role. Therefore, it appears more relevant to speak about ‘role-set’ than about one single, coherent role.

[10] What are the main ‘patterned expectations’ of a deputy’s role in Turkey and where do they come from? The overall structure of the political system constitutes the casting mould in which the roles of MPs are formed. According to the 1982 Constitution (article 80), members of the TBMM represent, not their own constituencies or constituents, but the Nation as a whole. This follows the Burkean conception of a national, rather than local, constituency – even though each deputy has actually been elected by the voters of one particular province (Frey 1965:13).

[11] How media construct MPs is of great importance in the formation of role ascriptions, since media constitute the main channel of visibility. How does MPs’ exposure to media shape their role-set? It is important to note that Turkish MPs are strongly exposed to the media’s scrutiny. Accredited parliament correspondents (parlamento muhabiri) follow almost all legislative activities taking place in the Parliament: plenary sessions, committee meetings, and most of the political group meetings. But they also have access to the backstage (kulis), the place just outside the main floor of the Chamber, where MPs go out of the plenary sessions to make a break or bargain, and where they speak more freely. The kulis is a very good place to grasp news for journalists⁶. It has such an importance that some parties regularly attempt to forbid them access to the kulis⁷. In the end, the Assembly is much more exposed to the media’s scrutiny than other institutions (government, bureaucracy or military)⁸. Besides, parliamentary coverage has quite an important place in political news-making. This scrutiny leads to a tight control of MPs’ individual behaviour, resulting in strong criticism in case of unruly behaviour⁹ (Aslan-Akman 2005).

[12] Besides being defined by institutions and the media’s expectations, the MPs’ role-set is also shaped by the expectations emanating from different audiences with which deputies are in contact. As far as constituents are concerned, it is the service and allocational aspects of responsiveness that compose the most frequent demands to MPs (Hazama 2005). Kalaycıoğlu argues that the major tasks of a deputy are: promoting the interests of his constituents, protecting them against the challenges of public bureaucracy and providing jobs to his electoral supporters (1995: 48-54). Constituents may ask MPs things which are not among their legal attributions, or even are opposed to them: ‘if you explain there are rules to get a visa and don’t provide them one, they’ll say ‘this guy was of no use’’10. As a matter of fact, the very core of being a representative is to interact with various social spheres, which implicates being able to play different roles. Whatever the MP’s dominant characteristics are, he has to take into account the plurality of his roles (Lagroye 1994). Turkish MPs – like politicians elsewhere, and maybe more - face contradictory expectations.

[13] The role expectations that Turkish MPs face are contradictory because different audiences express them. Yet, even the role expectations carried by the media are contradictory. Parliament correspondents pay attention only to aspects of the MPs’ activity that they consider noteworthy and ‘newsworthy’, i.e. in relation with perceived current policy issues. They maintain relations mainly with MPs who are best informed. These are mainly MPs who already enjoy power positions (being in the bureau of the Assembly, in the party boards, in the direction of party groups, or in committee boards), or MPs who are very active in committee or legislative work. The head of Hürriyet Parliament office declares knowing 100 or 150 MPs because ‘they are the people who are continually in the job and are susceptible to produce news. That’s why we know them better’¹¹. Most parliament correspondents do not know the other MPs. This means that parliament correspondents put an overstated value on legislative work and MPs engaging in it. In order to appear in public media – which is considered important for re-election by most MPs (Hazama 2005: § 19-20) – MPs have to engage in legislative work and advertise about it¹². Many MPs attempt to inform the correspondents about their legislative activities, for example through press releases. However, when the issue addressed is not on the national agenda, which is most often the case, parliament correspondents ignore them¹³. They also do not cover other MPs’ activities, like constituency service or public relation work. Parliament correspondents expect MPs to be in Ankara, involve in legislative work, and act in the name of the Nation, not in the name of their constituency. This is in part because parliament correspondents are working for national channels, newspapers, and press agencies; among them, no local media is represented. In a way, these correspondents – who enjoy a good position in the profession, even among political journalists¹⁴ - are part of the national elite.

[14] But parliamentary correspondents produce only part of the media coverage on the MPs. Local media do also cover the deputies’ activities, but another kind: they cover them mainly in their constituency or when they defend their constituency’s interests. They follow the MPs’ legislative activities in the parliament only marginally and indirectly, through the news they get from the Anadolu press agency15. Many backbenchers who are not elected from big cities have more relations with local media than with parliament correspondents (like MPs E, G, M)16. Local media, on the other hand, view MPs mainly as the representatives of their constituency and defenders of its interest. Thus, there is a quite clear division of labour between local and national media concerning the coverage of MPs activities, local and national journalists having no direct relation with each other. It would be interesting to study further the coverage of MPs' activities by the local and national media. Suffice it here to say that local and national media have different role expectations concerning MPs.

[15] How do MPs perceive these contradictory expectations? How do they rationalize their role-set? As a matter of fact, all the MPs I have interviewed declared that they perceived divergent role expectations¹⁷. In his memoirs, Kocaoğlu states that expectations from the voters and from his party (ANAP) diverged: ‘The voter (…) does not ask you what you have done for the European Union. But he wants a weapon permit, he wants a job in the civil service, he wants the appointment or the promotion of somebody from his home region, he wants his nephew who failed the exam to pass in the next class (…) And you, by force, you get busy with these strange affairs. Because if you don’t do that, you’re considered to be a ‘bad MP’’ (Kocaoğlu 2003: 48). ‘In general, the party organisation gives excessive importance to personal advantages and spoil demands’ (Kocaoğlu 2003: 27). Later, this former MP also gives room to his conception (or what he wants to appear as his conception) of what a ‘good MP’ is, which is different from the expectations both of the party and the voters: ‘I believe I have been a ‘good’ MP according to my own standards. For instance, I haven’t become a careerist, I haven’t acquired property in any unlawful manner, I have realised some of my ideals, I have given priority not to personal, but to collective demands, I have been a good party member’ (Kocaoğlu 2003: 20).

[16] Like him, all MPs I interviewed stated a discrepancy between their own representation of their role and what they perceived was expected from them: ‘We quarrelled a lot between my inner voice was telling me and what was expected from me. There were some laws about which I suffered much inconvenience (…). Yes, well, the party leader knows what’s right, if it is what Turkey needs, then… (…). The ones who come from very professional political backgrounds did not feel any discomfort. People like me, in contrast, did’18. Besides this classical tension between the party line and individual convictions, all interviewed MPs stressed the contradiction between the voters’ expectations and their own role representations: ‘You will help everybody, everywhere. In reality, this is not something profitable. In my view, a parliamentarian should be limited to conducting his legislative duty. But in Turkey, being a parliamentarian… is perceived as paying attention to all the problems of the voters, and that’s what the voters expect from you. If you don’t do that (…) the voters erase you, they say it’s wrong’19. Many MPs find this to be an important role conflict: ‘In my view, the hire and promotion of civil servants should be administered through a central exam (…) But you will invite [the voters] to eat, you will walk around the Parliament with them (…) They enjoy it very much… feeling the state. The one who does that, well, does not make any real work, what he does is contenting others’²⁰ ‘The problem there [in the constituency] is that the citizens’ understanding of politics is: the MP should come to my village, to my city. But it’s not possible (...) ‘You have gone to Ankara and you have forgotten us’, but the real duty (…) is here, legislation (…) you experience this tension’²¹.

[17] It would be wrong to assert that the only normative and legitimate role of an MP is that of a legislator or defender of general interest, and that answering the – even personal - demands of citizens is not legitimate. Of course, almost all MPs argue that ‘the real duty of an MP is legislation’22, and it is often the image that one wants to give to a Western researcher. However, some MPs – like MPs A, C, E, G, H, I, L in our sample - do not denounce practices like receiving or answering personal demands from citizens, even if they consider them as the result of the state apparatus’ dysfunctions. Some of them view these practices as normal, or even as an important part of their role: ‘Look, those aren’t bad things. Those are the troubles of the citizens, and… the citizen calls you as the protector of his pains. You must be extremely interested and helpful with them. May be they aren’t right. But it is necessary to show some interest’23. Providing - even sometimes individual - service (hizmet) to the people is broadly considered to be legitimate (Güneş-Ayata 1994: 61). This activity is even institutionalizedd in the very functioning of the Assembly. Political groups have printed forms called iş takip formu (follow-up form), aiming at rationalizing individual demands, and at dealing with them (see Appendix)24. Receiving visits is considered as being part of the MPs’ tasks. According to official sources, in the second legislative year of the 22^nd legislature (2003-2004), 690,000 visitors have come to the Parliament at an average of 3,500 visits a day (Anadolu Ajansı 2004) - 30% less than the previous legislative year, mainly because visit hours have been restricted.

[18] Yet, these different expectations are often perceived as contradictory or even not compatible. Truly they are sometimes: ‘The MPs are confronted with a constant traffic of visitors, and they can’t spare enough time for legislative activities. The Assembly has taken measures to limit the visits on certain days so that the legislative activities are not affected’25. It’s not possible to answer to all the expectations: ‘If you want to meet them, you don’t have time left for the Parliament. If you don’t, you offend the voters and the citizens’²⁶. In addition to this time allocation problem, the rules of the game that yield successful results regarding legislative work differ from those that lead to high levels of popularity and public recognition.

[19] How do individual MPs cope with role strain arising from role conflict? There are two possibilities of coping with these diverging role expectations. The first possibility is role-switching, meaning that MPs are switching from one role to another according to different contexts. One may observe the succession of distinct behaviours and ways of being in their everyday practices. The second possibility is role-specialisation, i.e. a kind of ‘division of labour’ between MPs specializing in different roles and showing different role orientations. Role orientation refers to systematic differences in the legislators’ conceptions of a particular component of the legislator’s role.

[20] Our hypothesis is that, even if role-switching is present, we can observe a strong internal differentiation in role orientation of Turkish MPs, i.e. in their ways of playing the MP’s role-set. As a matter of fact, individual role conceptions of the MPs in our sample show strong differences: they prioritize the contradicting role expectations in various ways, some have interiorised the hizmet role but others much less: ‘We don’t have enough strength to work at those things, our work here is legislation and participating in parliamentary activities (...) I felt very uncomfortable [with the citizens’ demands], and I reacted against that (...) In that sense, I was a unlikeable MP, but... They still say, I was very respected because I never changed my mind, because I was straight and honest, because I pondered on Turkey and the world (…), because I did not expect any rent from politics, because I did not pursue any private interests, because I was a man with principles. But I can’t say that I was appreciated, or that I devoted myself to the service of the voters. Thus – I suffered much inconvenience’²⁷. ‘My characteristic is that I always speak to the citizen, I certainly esteem him (…) Even if I can’t do anything for him, at least he will depart satisfied from here’²⁸. Starting from these different prioritizations of tasks, I assume that there is considerable scope for different answers to these contradictory expectations, at least for some MPs.

[21] An important factor in this broad interpretation scope is the pretty poor political socialization - through which legislative norms and roles are internalised - among Turkish MPs. What do the recruitment process and career paths of Turkish MPs indicate in terms of patterns of socialization?

[22] A first important point is the high turnover in the TBMM, which renews itself by more than 50% in every election since 1980. The highest turnover took place in 1983 because of the coup (85%); but it was even higher in 2002 (almost 90%); in the meantime, it varied between 50% and 60%, which is also quite high. However, more than the mere turnover rate, the previous parliamentary experience of Turkish MPs seems important to understand the socialization process. It also appears to be quite low, especially in 2002.

[23] To the extent that newcomers are inexperienced in legislative politics, their socialization into legislative roles and their adoption of the established norms of legislative conduct are likely to be quite improbable during a single term or two (Kalaycıoğlu 1988: 49). ‘High turnover rates of seats in the TGNA, through their undermining influence on the establishment of binding norms of legislative conduct (…), tend to inhibit the professionalisation of deputyship in the TGNA. (…) By professionalisation is meant the development of the role of deputyship into a pattern of actions and a constellation of expectations that are learned or adopted after a lengthy period of service in a legislature, preceded by a period of apprenticeship in a party organization or in the local political machinery, which help one to develop the above-mentioned expectations’ (Kalaycıoğlu 1988: 58). Although Kalaycıoğlu’s paper deals with the 1983 legislature, which is in many regards an exception because of the rupture in political personnel brought by the 1980 coup, his conclusion are probably true as well, with some nuance, for most of the post-1983 period, since newcomers in politics have been numerous since then.

[24] However, as Kalaycıoğlu argues, a political career is not limited to parliamentary experience. There are other instances of socialization and learning of political roles, the main ones being local elective offices and apprenticeship in a party organization. In Germany for example, almost all MPs have a long career as party members, mayors, deputies of local councils, and so on (Saalfeld 1997). This common socialization and learning process leads to some degree of standardization and coherence of MPs’ role. Saalfeld argues that the professionalisation of parliamentary roles and the greater importance of career politicians in post-war Germany have behavioural implications: as a result of their relatively similar career patterns, German parliamentarians have been found to share, at least to some extent, certain ‘professional’ norms. What are the previous experience of Turkish MPs in local elective offices and party organizations? What do they tell us about MPs’ socialization and learning of political roles?

[25] For Turkey, we unfortunately have no systematic data. Most studies on this issue have been conducted in the 1960s and 1970s, but not pursued until the present day. Moreover, it is noteworthy that the main source used to produce this indicator, the albums of the TBMM, does not always contain complete data concerning party offices or former local elective offices. Therefore, it is probable that due to the nature of the sources, political experience of MPs in local elective offices and party organisations is underestimated. Another problem is that the sources do not differentiate between previous and present political experience, a very significant difference in terms of political careers. Questionnaires help, to some extent, to fill this gap, but are by definition conducted on one legislature and do not permit the construction of long statistical series. However, all previous works are unanimous in showing poor experience of Turkish MPs, both in local elective offices and in party experience. Let us begin with experience in local elective office.

[26] The more focused analysis conducted by Oya Çitçi, which is based also on the Parlamenterler Ansiklopedisi (1983), demonstrates how incomplete the TBMM albums are, which is the main source for the above study.

[27] The poor local office experience of Turkish MPs becomes clearer when compared with other countries. In Germany, the average MPs’ political career begins with a political ‘apprenticeship’ of between two and six years as a local councillor. 31% of the 194 MPs interviewed by Herzog in 1988/1999 had held local electoral office as councillors prior to their election to the Bundestag, 38% had held such a mandate and continued to hold it after their election to the Bundestag, and only 31% had never been elected office at local level (Herzog 1990)29. The experience of Turkish MPs in elective offices seems to be low compared also to other European countries, where ‘a very large proportion of MPs (from 40% upwards) had an elective or governing position at local or regional level before entering into the national representative body’ (Cotta, Best 2000: 505). How widespread is the experience of MPs in local party offices? It is recognized as a way of learning political roles and facilitating parliamentary socialization by the MPs who, in our sample, had this experience, such as MP G. However, this experience also appears to be quite rare:

[28] This table clearly shows that until the 1960s political experience in local party offices among Turkish MPs is very low, though increasing over time. Tachau and Good conclude that ‘as a whole, the data […] suggest that neither local elective offices nor local party offices have been very important as channels of recruitment to the national political elite’ (1973:556). But party headquarters seem more important than local party organizations as a channel of recruitment to the Parliament, as Tachau and Good conclude from more precise data concerning the 1960s30: