The mild-mannered economist who could end Erdogan’s rule

In modern Turkey, as in ancient Byzantium, the factions and passions of the stadium crowds are a key bellwether of the people’s true mood. Last month the terraces of Istanbul’s Sukru Saracoglu stadium – home to the Fenerbahce team of which Turkey’s President Recep Tayyip Erdogan has been a proud member for 25 years – echoed with chants of ‘Erdogan, resign’ and ‘Lies! Lies! Lies!’.

The same weekend, the home crowd of another major Istanbul club, Besiktas, had filled the pitch with a heartbreaking, minutes-long hail of soft toys thrown from the stands in memory of the thousands of children who lost their lives in the devastating earthquake of 6 February. ‘The Sultan is hollow, he is a thief,’ said Muslim Aydin, an Istanbul restaurant owner who is a lifelong Fenerbahce fan and erstwhile Erdogan supporter. ‘We don’t believe his lies any more.’

Over his two-decade rule, Erdogan’s electoral superpower has been to repeatedly reinvent and renew his image as a man of the people.