The Politics of Control: Gender, Power, and the Legacy of the Istanbul Convention in Türkiye
Article 10 of the Turkish Constitution: “Women and men shall have equal rights. The State shall have the obligation to ensure that this equality exists in practice.”
The Council of Europe Convention on Preventing and Combating Violence against Women and Domestic Violence, commonly known as the Istanbul Convention, was signed in 2011 by 34 countries, with Turkey being the very first. This happened in Istanbul, under the same government as today. The text is crucial because it defines gender-based violence as systemic and assigns a clear responsibility to the State to prevent and protect against such violence. It also explicitly includes violence against the LGBT+ community as part of the gender-based framework.
Yet, in 2021, President Erdoğan decided to withdraw from the Convention by presidential decree. The reasons for this withdrawal were deeply political; women’s rights were never at the heart of the debate. As a political science student, I conducted field research in Istanbul, speaking with feminists, professors, students, and lawyers. My goal was to understand how violence against women continues to be justified, minimized, or even ignored by political power.
Patriarchy, Capitalism and the Political Use of Law
Was the Istanbul Convention merely a political tool? The law, while signed, was never genuinely enforced. Its adoption in 2011 coincided with Turkey’s strategic alignment with the European Union, offering a liberal image without concrete follow-through. The law served as a facade, not a structural commitment. Withdrawal made that clear.
Like any democracy, Turkish democracy operates within a capitalist framework, a system of domination that mirrors patriarchy. These two systems support and sustain each other. Both benefit from the control of women. According to Prof. Dr. Coşku Çelik, who works on labor, rural development, and feminist political economy, capitalism depends heavily on the unpaid labor of women, particularly in caregiving roles.
In Turkey, the family is the core structure of this system. It allows the State to outsource its welfare responsibilities to women, under the guise of tradition. By keeping women in caregiving roles (at home, with children, with elders), capitalism wins twice: women provide unpaid labor, and men (and the State) retain control.
The State actively reproduces this system through education, law, and political discourse. As Prof. Çelik puts it, “Care is a public responsibility, not a natural role for women.” However, in practice, that responsibility has been privatized and pushed back into the home.
Laws are political in essence. Their application—or neglect—reveals the true intent of power. The impunity surrounding gender-based violence in Turkey is not accidental. It is a message: these issues are not a priority. The withdrawal from the Convention served as a symbolic rejection of the concerns of women, children, and LGBTQ+ individuals. A denial of structural responsibility.
Religion, Family, and the Naturalization of Violence
The official justifications for the withdrawal were ideological: The Convention allegedly undermined traditional family values by promoting gender equality (thus, encouraging divorce). It was seen as supportive of the LGBT+ community, contradicting so-called Islamic principles.
These arguments reflect how politics feeds off conservative and religious narratives. Even though such values are not enshrined in the Turkish Constitution, they remain powerful in Turkish society. It proves one thing: politics is not just about laws; it draws strength from culture and religion. Concepts such as honor, family, and nature are weaponized. But these ideas are socially constructed, not biologically fixed.
By “naturalizing” women’s subordination, politics discourages critical thought. It sacralizes the private sphere and masks it as apolitical. But as feminists have long argued: the private is political. The Istanbul Convention recognized this by addressing violence within the home, a space traditionally seen as sacred. This is precisely why it was perceived as a threat.
According to Wilhelm Reich, in The Mass Psychology of Fascism, the family is the smallest authoritarian unit of the state, a structure of obedience and control. In this sense, the defense of the traditional family becomes a defense of a hierarchical, oppressive order. Political power in Turkey uses both law and tradition as it pleases, adopting whichever is more convenient to preserve authority.
As lawyer Çağla Çınili puts it: “The Istanbul Convention situates the fight against violence beyond individual efforts, by imposing a structural and collective responsibility on the State.” A responsibility the State deliberately rejects.
International Politics: Breaking with the West
Turkey’s withdrawal also carries a geopolitical dimension. It marked the first time a member of the Council of Europe exited an international treaty on human rights. This act was not just about gender; it was a political signal to the West. It allowed Erdoğan to present Turkey as a sovereign power, independent from European influence. There is no longer a need to maintain a liberal, pro-EU image. Instead, Turkey is asserting its values through political Islam, which increasingly threatens women’s rights.
But if the State refuses to apply its own Constitution, can it still claim to be a democracy? A government that denies legal equality loses legitimacy. In such cases, only societal and grassroots pressure can push for accountability and change.
As Simone de Beauvoir once warned: “Never forget that it will only take a political, economic, or religious crisis for women's rights to be called into question.” When regimes face internal crises, they often divert attention by turning women’s bodies into battlegrounds. It’s a political tactic that divides society and consolidates power. Control over women’s bodies becomes a way to control the whole population.
Political Islam is not just ideology—it’s a strategy that works, because it offers simple answers to complex questions. And once again, women pay the price.
Prof. Çelik reminds us: “Personal relationships between men and women reflect structures.” This opens key questions: What political vision shapes the private space? What place for women in the public space? Removing women from public life reinforces traditional gender roles. This is not democracy. This is authoritarianism.
Finally, the Istanbul Convention was not only about law; it was about recognizing structural violence. Its withdrawal was a regression, both symbolically and materially. By protecting a patriarchal and capitalist system under the guise of tradition, the Turkish government sends a clear message: some lives matter less than others.
But rights are not granted; they are demanded. If the law fails, civil society must rise. Because violence, whether in private or public, is never justifiable. And impunity is never neutral.
References
Council of Europe, 2011. Istanbul Convention: Council of Europe Convention on Preventing and Combating Violence against Women and Domestic Violence.
Beauvoir, S. de, The Second Sex.
Reich, W., The Mass Psychology of Fascism.
Turkish Constitution, Article 10.
Çınili, Ç., statements on the Istanbul Convention and structural responsibility of the State.
Çelik, C., statements on labor, care, and feminist political economy.