THE protests that have convulsed Turkey since May 31st are prompting many questions about the future of Recep Tayyip Erdogan. Has the prime minister’s popularity been irreparably dented? Can he still be elected president next year? Most critically, what effect has the turmoil had on his bold efforts to solve the country’s long-festering Kurdish problem?

An answer to that came from Selahattin Demirtas, leader of the pro-Kurdish Peace and Democracy party (BDP), who told the daily Milliyet that talks between the government and Abdullah Ocalan, the imprisoned leader of the outlawed Kurdistan Workers Party (PKK), had almost come unstuck. “At a time when it was expected to take further steps, the government revealed its harsh and authoritarian face to the public,” Mr Demirtas said of police brutality towards protesters. Worries that Mr Erdogan would turn his back on the Kurds grew as he reverted to nationalist clichés during pro-government rallies. Draping a flag over his Ankara house, Mr Erdogan called on supporters to do the same and called Mr Ocalan a “terrorist” again.

The BDP, wary of antagonising Mr Erdogan, at first took a largely symbolic part in the protests. Mr Demirtas even parroted the government’s view that coup-plotters and ultranationalists were responsible for them. Many Kurds pronounced themselves unfazed by the use of pepper spray, pressurised water and rubber bullets that left at least four dead, 11 blinded and over 8,000 wounded. “Where were you when we were being killed by live bullets?” many asked of so-called “white Turks” rising up for the first time.

But as public fury spread, the Kurds tilted towards the protesters. Murat Karayilan, a PKK commander in Kurdish-controlled northern Iraq, went so far as to suggest he might end a three-month truce because Turkey was “preparing for war”. What the protests revealed was that the Kurds no longer need guns to make themselves heard: as Mahmut Kaya, a Kurdish researcher, put it, “They can stage the mother of all street protests.” Fears that the Kurds might join forces with Turkish protesters propelled Mr Erdogan into action. Mr Demirtas said the government would announce a series of reforms, including tweaks to anti-terror laws and improved prison conditions for Mr Ocalan. The peace talks have survived.

Another crisis has been averted, too, this time with the European Union. Egged on by Germany’s Angela Merkel, whose party is against Turkish membership, EU leaders had threatened to block the opening of a new “chapter”—a move that would have ended a three-year freeze. In a compromise on June 25th, the opening was agreed on but put off until October, after the German election.

None of this consoles Sayfi Sarisuluk, whose son Ethem was shot dead by a policeman during protests in Ankara, the capital. Mrs Sarisuluk blames Mr Erdogan for her son’s death. Video footage showing the moment Mr Sarisuluk was struck on June 1st has pulled protesters on to the streets in ever-greater numbers. Their anger increased when an Ankara court released his alleged killer on the ground that he had acted in self-defence. Mr Erdogan poured oil on the fire with a speech lauding the “epic heroism” of the police, without mentioning any of their victims.

The government is now circulating its own version of events in a video entitled “The Great Game”, which tries to support Mr Erdogan’s rants about a global conspiracy against him. On June 25th thousands of protesters again gathered in Taksim Square as riot police looked on. No tear gas, no rubber bullets, no pepper spray: has a lesson in tolerance been learnt?