This is not merely about getting rich, but about a new culture of publicly displaying economic power and a new form of consumerism
One aspect of what is called the “political process” within the Turkish Right is the almost obsessive pursuit of social advancement and a higher position in the class hierarchy. “May God not deprive anyone of what they have grown accustomed to having.” This particular Turkish folk saying is not merely a wish to remain wealthy. It is a wish that one may not experience the painful fall from the standard of living and social status one has already attained. It is the folk expression of the anxiety over the risk of social and economic regression.
In today’s Turkey, this wish takes on particular political significance. On the one hand, it helps us understand aspects of the resilience of Erdoğan’s regime. On the other hand, it reveals the strong reactions of a segment of Erdogan’s conservative —God-fearing voters—in the face of one of the biggest financial scandals of recent decades.
ΣΧΕΤΙΚΑ ΑΡΘΡΑ
The “investment fund profiteering” scandal, as it has come to be known, is shaking up daily life in Turkey. According to data released by the government itself, 141 individuals and 73 companies reaped a total of 187.65 billion Turkish lira—approximately 3.38 billion euros—in less than five months. According to the revelations so far, the majority of the 141 individuals come either directly from the ranks of the ruling Justice and Development Party (AKP), or from the top-level bureaucracy that the AKP itself created during its 25 years in power.
The most notable case involves the former Minister of Family Affairs and vice chair of the party, Fatma Betül Sayyan Kaya, and her husband. According to the Turkish press, the couple invested approximately 163 million lira in stocks, which they sold a few months later for 2.17 billion lira. At current exchange rates, this means that Ms. Kaya made a profit of approximately 36 million euros.
The astronomical figures circulating daily on the internet are causing social upheaval, particularly due to the intensifying inequality the country is experiencing. Notably, in 2025, the wealthiest 20% of the population accounted for 48% of the country’s total income, while the poorest 20% accounted for just 6.4%. The minimum monthly wage in 2026 was set at 28,075.50 pounds net (approximately 506 euros), while as early as January 2026, the hunger threshold for a family of four stood at 31,296 pounds (approximately 564 euros). In other words, it exceeded the minimum wage by 3,220.50 pounds (approximately 58 euros). Even more revealing is the poverty line, which stood at 102,812 pounds (approximately 1,853 euros), an amount equivalent to about 3.66 minimum wages.
In short, in today’s Turkey, a former minister earned several tens of millions of euros in just a few months, yet three workers earning the minimum wage cannot collectively secure an income sufficient to meet the needs of a family of four at the level defined by the poverty line.
What, then, is the deeper significance of the revelation of profiteering on this scale? What might be its implications for Erdoğan’s long-term hold on power?
From Moral Criticism to “Halal” Consumerism
The Turkish Islamist movement historically emerged by advocating for the so-called “third way.” That is, a different path of socioeconomic and cultural development, distinct from both immoral capitalism and atheistic socialism. However, it is a fact that the traditional critique of capitalism by Turkey’s Islamic intellectuals has been more cultural and ethical than systemic.
It rejected the religiously prohibited (haram) and morally impermissible profit derived from financial activities, without necessarily challenging the mechanisms that produce social inequalities. For the Islamists of the 1960s and 1970s, profitability and economic growth were sacred as long as they resulted from the production of material goods. This, moreover, was the central idea behind a morally legitimate industrialization of the country. Necmettin Erbakan, a historic leader of Turkish Islamism, was one of those who articulated principles for “ethical capitalism,” even if they did not call it exactly that.
Erdoğan and the AKP were the key elements that completed the historic transformation of Islamism. If there is one thing universally accepted in today’s Turkey, it is the total and absolute harmonization of religious piety—and even fanaticism—with business expansion, extreme consumerism, and the display of wealth. The new type of religious entrepreneur in the Erdoğan era is the quintessential embodiment of the “genuine bourgeoisie.” This is Homo Islamicus—that is, the entrepreneur who can manage a massive conglomerate with the same ease with which he performs his Islamic prayers five times a day.
During the Erdoğan years, the mosque has gained greater visibility in the public sphere. But alongside them have risen the skyscrapers of multinational corporations and the gated luxury residential complexes of the new urban and petty-bourgeois elite. The well-known “conservative hotels,” tailored to the religious requirements of the newly wealthy Muslims, were established; new markets for Islamic fashion expanded; and young, beautiful women wearing headscarves became the new stars of soap operas and gossip-filled television shows.
Millions of conservative, religious citizens have gained greater social mobility, access to higher education, the economy, and, above all, power. Their religious identity is no longer an obstacle to social advancement. On the contrary, it is their religious identity that now serves as a prerequisite for social prosperity and wealth. A new economic elite has emerged, whose lifestyle has strikingly and completely diverged from the religious values of moderation and humility that the Islamist movement itself once espoused. The display of luxury by this new elite is at the heart of the social transformation. This is not merely about the accumulation of wealth, but about a new culture of publicly displaying economic power and a new form of consumerism. This is “halal” consumerism—that is, the kind whose proponents claim can be religiously acceptable.
Erdoğan’s myth: “Tell us, who else do we have besides you?”!
This is certainly not the first time that, under Erdoğan’s rule, the country has been rocked by the revelation of scandals. It is also true that none of the previous scandals led to a loss of power. So what accounts for this resilience? One possible answer lies in Erdogan’s special relationship with his social base. For millions of conservative voters, Erdogan is not merely a successful politician. He is “their man” in power; he is the embodiment of their social rise. In 2019, at a rally in Ikonio, his supporters held up a banner that read: “Tell us, who else do we have besides you?” At critical moments, the ““myth of Erdoğan” had to be kept in power because it represents the personal journey of many conservative voters—or even their vision of climbing the social ladder.
After all, he himself grew up on the outskirts of a major city, was at a disadvantage compared to the secular elite in terms of his level of education, and came from a poor family. Consequently, for those social groups that started out in shantytowns on the outskirts of major cities and now find themselves in the “gated urban communities” of the new petty-bourgeois families, Erdogan symbolizes their path “upward.” For millions of voters, therefore, the possibility of the collapse of Erdoğan’s power was, until recently, linked to the fear of a return to an era of social exclusion, economic regression, and cultural devaluation.
What is different today?
The key difference in the investment fund scandal is that it has been met with particularly harsh criticism from segments of society that have historically supported the Erdogan government. Criticism is now mounting strongly even within the conservative social bloc. For conservative intellectuals and religious believers in the lower income brackets who continue to defend the movement’s traditional values, the revelations of profiteering were experienced as the collapse of an entire political vision. This, then, is about the widening gap between traditional Islamism’s promise of a moral world and what the long-term exercise of power has actually produced. Herein lies the AKP’s deepest historical paradox. A movement that emerged promising the moral reform of politics succeeded in bringing about the social advancement of religious strata, but at the same time embraced the most aggressive form of capitalist consumerism. Religion did not merely coexist with wealth. In most cases, it was transformed into a cultural identity that legitimizes and encourages the acquisition of wealth.
In the current context, the reactions within the social base of power are so intense that they are creating rifts. These rifts, in turn, create prospects for alienation from power. Consequently, the current dilemma regarding Erdoğan’s future lies (also) in whether the prospect of alienation among segments of his social base will lead these voters not to inaction, but to active support for the opposition.
Nikos Moudouros
Assistant Professor, Department of Turkish and Middle Eastern Studies
University of Cyprus
