In her book “The New Form of Politics in Türkiye: Leaders, Images, and the Media,” Nuran Yıldız explores the leader-centered transformation of politics, the construction and sustainability of political leaders’ images, and the evolving role of the media in this process. She approaches these themes through a solid theoretical framework grounded in literature, enriched with illustrative examples from global and Turkish political figures that make the analysis more accessible. The book is an updated version of Yıldız’s doctoral dissertation. The fact that it was published in 2002 makes it particularly interesting, as it reflects on image-making in a period when digital platforms were not yet widespread or influential, and traditional media such as television, newspapers and radio were still dominant. Moreover, it invites readers to reflect open-endedly on the extent to which her assessments have been validated over the past 23 years.
Social transformations and changes in socio-economic structures naturally reshape how political parties and institutions present themselves to society, how they construct perception and meaning, and the ways in which the tools involved in these processes operate. As Yıldız thoroughly discusses in the first chapter of her book, the changes experienced in product marketing under free-market conditions – and the approaches shaped by these changes – have become applicable to political parties and leaders as well. In this context, Yıldız references Richard Sennett to highlight the increasingly strengthened connection between politics and spectacle. In this transformation, it is not the parties themselves but rather their leaders who take center stage – resembling a “star system” in politics. It is now the leaders who are promoted, who stand out in the spectacle, and who ensure both momentum and continuity. Moreover, the politician has become a product, and the voter a customer. For this reason, “Today, the public demands two key things from its leaders: to be visible and to be understandable.” Observation has become central, while what is observed is now “something constructed through communication tools.” Consequently, the image of the leader has become critical.
With mass media, images can be constructed and curated in any desired way. However, despite these diverse possibilities for construction, Yıldız’s consistent emphasis on authenticity and truthfulness in the image of political leaders stands out throughout the book. While she highlights that image work can serve as a tool for conveying truth to the public, she also laments the widespread prevalence of perception management strategies that lack authenticity, arguing that such practices have led to a semantic erosion of the concept of “image.” This concern is echoed in the book’s preface as well: “In the staged environment of today’s political life, the more leaders are embedded in real life, the more lasting they become; otherwise, if they merely ‘act as if,’ they are as artificial and fleeting as soap opera characters – only temporarily fulfilling passing needs. Often, the concept of image itself is blamed because a political image is assumed to imply pretension. Yet the image of a politician becomes successful precisely to the extent that it approaches truth rather than ‘acting as if,’ and moves away from mere appearances.”
The connection that Yıldız draws between image and reality is closely tied to the concept of permanence. As she emphasizes, continuity, consistency and organization are essential elements of a successful political image, which is why building one requires a planned and long-term effort. Otherwise, most image-making efforts become detached from reality. Much like the jarring effect viewers experience when the synchronization between voice and body is lost in a dubbed foreign film – when it becomes clear the voice does not belong to the person on screen – such disconnection from reality leaves a sour aftertaste in the audience. Moreover, a construction not grounded in reality is unlikely to be lasting; it will merely serve as a temporary course for the insatiable appetite of the spectacle industry. For this reason, Yıldız insists: “These debates often revolve around the assumption that the primary aim of image-making is to distort or manipulate reality, to sever ties with the truth. However, the relationship between image and reality is not one of denial, but rather of redefining truth/reality by making use of the technological capabilities of communication tools.”
In this context, the capacity to shape the agenda also comes to the forefront. While “communication tools may not be particularly effective in telling people what to think, they are highly effective in influencing what people think about.” This highlights the importance of a leader’s ability to set the agenda around the society’s authentic and pressing issues. Moreover, in this regard, reason alone is insufficient – politicians are also expected to appeal to emotion as much as intellect. Once again, authenticity becomes central. The more leaders “surf” real social waves with both intellect and emotional resonance, the more they foster hope – and consequently, a sense of public ownership and support. This ability underpins the meaning-making dimension of image-building, which forms a critical pillar of political communication: “Because in image construction, the needs and characteristics of the audience are just as important as the medium itself; discourse and context matter as much as the message.” Politics rooted in real issues, offering meaningful and healing responses, reinforces agenda-setting and lends consistency to a leader’s image through repetition.
The Erdoğan chapter
In the “Examples” section of her book, Yıldız evaluates political party leaders in Türkiye within the framework of image-building practices and their outcomes, as discussed in the earlier chapters. In this context, her reflections on President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan – published in 2002 – are particularly striking, especially considering they were made 23 years ago. The first trait Yıldız highlights about Erdoğan is his combative nature: “In all his speeches, Erdoğan adopted a discourse not of the oppressed, but of the fighter – someone who, despite being stripped of his rights, actively demands power.” Yıldız even interprets this trait as a significant departure from his mentor, Necmettin Erbakan: “While his mentor used to say, ‘Not every truth should be spoken everywhere. If you have something inside you, go to a secluded place, to a forest, and shout at the trees,’ Erdoğan chose to shout to the crowds.”
The use of the name “Tayyip” in a dismissive tone by the media power centers – highlighted by Yıldız as a condescending rhetorical choice – not only reinforced Erdoğan’s combative stance, but also helped him become the voice of masses that had long remained silent in the face of tutelary elites, thereby broadening his representational base: “Because in Türkiye, politics has traditionally been practiced through a particular social class – through the elites. Those coming from such classes are typically referred to either by their surname or by their full name, as a form of respect. However, Tayyip Erdoğan does not belong to that class. He is a true native of Kasımpaşa, and a representative of the lower class – or, in today’s terms, of the ‘other Türkiye’.”
At this point, it is worth briefly turning to Edward Said’s account of Orientalism. As is well known, Said defines Orientalism not merely as an objective scholarly pursuit or an attempt to understand the East, but as a Western effort to produce, represent, and control the Orient. Thus, Said views Orientalism as a unilateral process through which the West interprets and assigns meaning to the East on its own terms. For instance, even the Egyptian woman encountered by Flaubert is not allowed to speak for herself; she is interpreted solely through Flaubert’s voice. As a result, in Flaubert’s words, she becomes “a typical Oriental.” This tone and rhetorical stance were also deeply entrenched in the media and among the educated elite in Türkiye at the time. Hence, President Erdoğan – perceived as a representative of the people dismissed by the media – was referred to as “Tayyip” within this Orientalist framework, a reflection of the same rhetorical logic.
Thus, the broad masses, long silenced and passively resistant to the elites’ Orientalist discourse, immediately rallied around a leader whom they saw as one of their own, someone who persistently fought for them under all circumstances. This created a powerful resonance. As Yıldız emphasizes, this is precisely what the elites have difficulty understanding: “There is a very clear cause-and-effect relationship between Erdoğan’s background and his spirit of struggle. The marks left by being from Kasımpaşa are seen by the audience he addresses as values worth following. What the elite representatives of politics find difficult to comprehend is this: They are well-educated, have lived well, and continue to live well – they believe they possess the authority to know everything and to make decisions about everything. So, what is it that the people find in a political figure who is the exact opposite of the elite politicians? The answer is very simple, yet it is precisely because of their own attributes that they struggle to grasp it. The answer is that the people see in Erdoğan – specifically in what makes him the opposite of the elites – something profoundly valuable: themselves!”
