TURKEY: An Uneasy Honeymoon

The generals' takeover brings relief, and some foreboding

The most obvious effect of the military intervention that overthrew the Turkish government of Prime Minister Süleyman Demirel two weeks ago was the widespread sense of relief it produced. After months of rising terrorism by both the extreme left and extreme right, the country allowed itself to settle into a state of unaccustomed relaxation. Civilians waved at tanks rumbling through the streets of Istanbul. Automobile drivers shook hands with soldiers who manned the roadblocks. Storekeepers raised their bombproof shutters for the first time in months, and restaurants began to fill up again in the evenings. Some city dwellers looked far trimmer than usual, simply because they no longer packed pistols inside their coats or waistbands. Ankara's English-language Turkish Daily News, reflecting the prevailing mood, announced in a banner headline: LIFE BACK TO NORMAL THROUGHOUT TURKEY.

Well, almost. Incidents of renewed terrorism marred the junta's uneasy post-coup honeymoon. Vowing opposition to the military regime, leftist guerrillas ambushed and killed a tank captain in Adana and a senior police officer in Istanbul. A left-wing extremist was killed in Istanbul when friends tried to free him from police custody. In the meantime, the military's roundup of suspected extremists continued, with more than 2,000 under arrest by the end of the week, and the offices of some 150 labor unions were closed down. The junta also ordered citizens to remove all political slogans from their walls. Said a martial law communiqué: "Everyone is responsible for his own wall. If you cannot afford new paint, you should call the martial law authorities in your neighborhood and they will provide it."

For the most part, however, the country rejoiced in the sudden easing of tension. The banks were open again. Tens of thousands of workers were ordered to end a nationwide wave of strikes and go back to their jobs. The new government sugared the pill by announcing a 70% wage increase for those who had been in the midst of labor negotiations at the time of the coup. There were soldiers on duty on city streets and bridges, and a cluster of blue-bereted commandos chatted idly outside Istanbul's Blue Mosque. Otherwise, the armed forces tried to keep discreetly out of sight as much as possible. Along the 300-mile road between Istanbul and Ankara, foreigners found few troops in evidence. Both deposed Prime Minister Demirel and Opposition Leader Bülent Ecevit remained under detention at a military resort hotel in Hamzaköy, near Gallipoli. They could receive telephone calls but refused to talk politics. Ecevit told one caller: "I'm sorry, the general in charge here has asked me not to discuss the present situation."