“We don’t want war, but this can’t remain unanswered,” says Mithat Acikkol, a resident of the southern Turkish border town of Akcakale, pointing to the house where a mortar bomb fired from Syria fell on Oct. 3, killing two women and three children. On the opposite side of the street sits another squat building, abandoned and pockmarked with bullet holes. A few hundred yards to the south, Turkish military vehicles patrol the border, their turrets pointed toward Syria. He would leave town if he could, says Acikkol, but is afraid to leave his property behind. “There are too many thieves at night.” The locals in Akcakale have grown used to the sound of bullets and shells tearing through the air — ever since Syrian rebels began battling the forces of Bashar Assad for the nearby border crossing in Tal Abyad in mid-September. Yet, for many Turks, it was the Oct. 3 shelling that finally brought home the idea that their country — never a spectator to begin with — risked becoming directly embroiled in the civil war raging across Syria. Just two years ago, the Turkish and Syrian governments were in the midst of a historical rapprochement, lifting visa restrictions, signing free-trade agreements and holding joint cabinet meetings. Things soured after the eruption of protests in Syria at the beginning of last year. Turkey initially offered to mediate, calling for a halt to the fighting and urging Assad to engage with the opposition. After its pleas fell on deaf ears, Ankara gave up. Its decision to host the Syrian opposition in exile — as well as leaders of the rebel Free Syrian Army (FSA) — proved the final nail in the coffin. Tensions increased in late June when the Syrian military downed a Turkish army jet flying over the eastern Mediterranean. (PHOTOS: Syria’s Slow-Motion Civil War) Since Oct. 3, not a single day has gone by without Syrian shells landing on Turkish soil. (Each time, Turkish troops have responded by pounding military targets in Syria with artillery volleys.) On Monday,![]()
