Nationalism.
The second of the Six Arrows, a civic, territorial nationalism built on shared citizenship, not ethnicity or race.

Definition
Kemalist nationalism was civic and territorial, all citizens within the republic's borders form the nation, regardless of origin. It was distinguished from both Pan-Turkism, which sought to unite all Turkic peoples across Central Asia, and ethnic nationalism, which would have defined the nation by bloodline. Instead, it was built on shared language, shared history, and common citizenship.
This was a practical as much as an ideological choice. The population of Anatolia in the 1920s was diverse, Turks, Kurds, Laz, Circassians, Arabs, and others. A strictly ethnic definition of nationhood would have excluded large portions of the population that had fought together in the War of Independence. Civic nationalism offered a framework for building unity from this diversity.
Historical context
The Ottoman Empire organized its subjects through the millet system, which grouped people by religious community rather than by language or ethnicity. Orthodox Christians, Armenian Christians, Jews, and Muslims each lived under their own religious laws and communal leadership. There was no concept of a shared national identity that cut across these divisions.
Pan-Turkism, which emerged in the late 19th century, sought to unite all Turkic peoples, from the Balkans to Central Asia, under a single political banner. This ideology influenced some Ottoman-era thinkers but proved impractical: the Turkic world was vast, divided by geography, and largely under Russian control.
The collapse of the Ottoman multi-ethnic empire after World War I made national identity a practical necessity. The new republic needed a cohesive identity that could hold together the people of Anatolia. Kemalist nationalism was Anatolian, focused on the specific territory and people of the new republic, not on a pan-ethnic vision that extended beyond its borders.
Key reforms
The Turkish Language Reform of 1928 and the broader language modernization efforts of the 1930s were central to building national unity. The adoption of the Latin alphabet replaced the Arabic script, which had been a marker of Ottoman and Islamic identity. The Turkish Language Association (Türk Dil Kurumu) worked to develop a standardized Turkish vocabulary, replacing Arabic and Persian loanwords with Turkish alternatives.
The Surname Law of 1934 required all citizens to adopt fixed family names, standardizing a naming system that had previously varied by region, religion, and class. The law was an equalizing measure, surnames would no longer signal ethnic origin or aristocratic lineage.
The national education system taught a shared history and civic values, emphasizing the common heritage of all citizens of the republic. National holidays, Republic Day (October 29), National Sovereignty and Children's Day (April 23), and others, along with national symbols like the flag and anthem, reinforced collective identity.
Modern relevance
The tension between civic and ethnic interpretations of Turkish nationalism remains a central issue in Turkish political life. The Kurdish question, involving roughly 15–20 percent of Turkey's population, has been the most persistent challenge to the civic nationalist framework. Debates about whether Kurdish-language education, broadcasting, and cultural expression are compatible with national unity, or whether they undermine it, trace directly back to how Kemalist nationalism is interpreted.
Some argue that the original civic definition was never fully realized, that in practice, Turkish nationalism privileged Turkish language and culture at the expense of minority identities. Others point to the civic definition as an aspirational framework that remains valuable precisely because it does not reduce national identity to ethnicity.
In a globalized world, questions about national identity have taken on new dimensions: Turkey's relationship with the European Union, its role in the Middle East, the place of diaspora communities, and the challenge of integrating millions of refugees all raise questions about what it means to be part of the Turkish nation, and whether the civic framework established a century ago can accommodate these realities.
“How happy is the one who says ‘I am a Turk!’”, Mustafa Kemal Atatürk, October 29, 1933