Three months ago, Mrs Merkel declared her support for reviving Turkey's stalled membership talks, but was sceptical that it would ever join. Others in her party are less circumspect, insisting a "country in Asia Minor" could never be part of Europe and urging an end to the talks. A clear majority of Germans sees things the same way. A recent poll revealed 60 per cent opposes Turkey's EU membership. Add to this periodic waves of outrage over incidents of violent crime by groups of "young people of migrant background", often code for youth of Turkish descent, and you have an atmosphere of mutual distrust that belies the fundamentally good relationship between the two countries. Germany is Turkey's biggest trading partner, and bilateral trade has steadily increased in recent years. The relationship between both countries involves a lot of talking but no action, to the dismay of the estimated three to four million people of Turkish origin who live in Germany, including a prominent community in Berlin, not far from the seat of government.
A dispute had been brewing for months over the allocation of press seats in the Zschäpe murder trial. It is one of the biggest criminal cases in Germany for years and it inevitably shines a spotlight on the wider issues of racism and immigration.
Court officials claim that the media seats were allotted on a first-come, first-served basis during the accreditation process. Despite the Turkish origins of most of the victims, not a single journalist from a Turkish media outlet was given a reserved seat. Even the mother of one of the victims was refused.
The reaction has been widespread outrage. One Turkish daily took legal action and the Constitutional Court ordered the case postponed while the seat allocation was reviewed.
How could this happen? Was it just the fault of a civil servant who underestimated the domestic and international political dimensions of such a case? And why was it so difficult to show a little tact?

















