Time to worry: Turkey is becoming USA!

Published on Huffington Post, 6 June




















                                                                                                                                                           
Over the last ten years, we have seen countless articles and discussions, ranging from academic all the way to ridiculous, comparing Turkey to a wide range of countries.

On the top of the list comes Iran. Turkey has been continually likened to Iran, in the sense that soon the conservative Muslim party would take over and declare a theocracy. Some saw, more of a slow approach and a sinister Islamization project.

Then came the post-religious perspectives and argued that Turkey is now becoming a Russia with her own Putin, business and media relations and harsh clamp down on free speech. We are still waiting for hunting and bear-fighting pictures of PM Erdogan.

There is one country Turkey has never been likened to, and yet, the more closely I follow the developments in Turkey, the more I see how valid it is to point out: Turkey is becoming like the USA after 10 years of AK Party rule.

What makes me to come up with such a ridiculous observation?

In Turkey, just like in the US, we now have two opposing cultural and political poles. A person is either forever a Republican or a Democrat. You have no option but to remain so even tough secretly you might agree with some policies of the other.
In Turkey, just like in the US, these two political allegiances are not simply matters of policy but reflect a complex web of cultural preferences, views, beliefs and geographical location. Categorical loathing between the two are a given.

In Turkey, just like in the US, cultural and religious sensitivities of the two poles show themselves in symbolic causes that reflect their preferences. What is gun control debate in US, is what alcohol debate in Turkey is.

In both countries, religion is dominant, but not desires for a theocracy, but public morality and certain 'red-lines' that needs to be there. Yet what exactly they are is a contention between the two poles. In both countries, underlying socio-psychological patterns make even the most mundane discussions on healthcare, city planning and fiscal policy a cosmic battle for the soul of the nation, when it really is not.

In both countries, wearing a flag-pin, or adoring your house or Facebook with the flags is the measurement of how much you love your country and lack of it is a clear sign of lack of patriotism. In both countries, only one of the two worlds see themselves as reflecting the true American spirit or Turkishness. In actual terms, for the outsiders they both look American and Turkish enough.

Both countries believe that every nation on earth looks up to them with envy and love and yet at the same time everybody is working to undermine it. Both countries suffer from a cognitive dissonance between their national 'myths' of founding fathers and values and facts of their history and current status.

Most importantly, in both countries their governments evoke strong feelings. While Obama is the best thing since sliced bread for some, finally bringing true American values, for others he is a closet Muslim and socialist destroying American spirit. That is identical to how Turks are divided over Prime Minister Erdogan.

If you have been troubled by my straw man representation of both countries and shallow comparisons, you are right. USA is not Turkey, Turkey is not USA. But you should have felt the same way for thousands of articles that told you Turkey is an Iran, Russia, Egypt if not Gaza. The bottom line is this; let Turkey be Turkey and start using its actual name, Turkiye.

Protests in Turkey are tremendous democratic advance

Published by Public Service Europe, 5 June 






















Often, it is fair to say that most of what we read on Turkey in the international media tells us more about those who write it than guide us towards a healthy analysis of developments in the country. The same goes for vast majority of the commentary on the protests we saw in Istanbul and across the country over the last week.

While protests in each of the cities have a different context and local factors, without a doubt initial protests on and around Gezi Park have triggered a larger social eruption. Therefore, understanding the Gezi Park protests would be important as a reflection on trends that unite these protests.

So far, the most credible data that emerged on protestors in Istanbul's Taksim Square has been a poll among 3,000 protestors in the Taksim area by Bilgi University. The findings signal important insights.

Bilgi's survey has found that 39 per cent of protestors are 19 to 25 years old and 24 per cent are 26 to 30 years old. Some 53 per cent have never joined a protest before, while 70 per cent do not feel close to any opposition party. Only 7 per cent say they joined the protests due to mobilisation by a political group. As to the reasons for the protest - some 92 per cent blame the prime minister's attitude, 91 per cent say police brutality, 84 per cent the media's silence on the events, and 56 per cent say the cutting of the trees.
 In addition, 81 per cent identify themselves as a 'freedom promoter', 64 per cent as 'secular' and 54 per cent as 'apolitical'. We can see that 92 per cent of protestors do not identify themselves as AKP voters and 75 per cent said they do not identify themselves as conservative. As for their future demands, 96 per cent want an end to police brutality while 96 per cent call for respect for freedoms. Meanwhile, 37 per cent want a new party to represent them. Interestingly, only 6 per cent want military intervention - and 79 per cent are against any military involvement.

An initial analysis of the statistics provides the following insights. The way the government handled an initial protest on city planning has triggered a larger burst of feelings of anger and frustration. The complete failure of Turkish opposition parties to be a voice for a sizeable portion of the population led them to protest – as it was the only way to assert their voice in politics. Amid all of the seeming faulty reporting on the 'Turkish Spring', the utter absence of the military from protests against the government party and lack of desire from the public to see them involved signals a tremendous democratic advancement in Turkey.

Similarly, the fact that neither European Union nor United States or International Monetary Fund pressure but public demand only led the government to back down from plans over the area - and apologise for police brutality - reflects a key point. Now the main pressure before any government is an empowered, focused and rights-demanding public - as it should be in any healthy democracy.

On the need for remembering Gezi Park right


Published by Today's Zaman, 5 June 2013

Much has been and will be written about why and how a small and peaceful protest in Taksim Square's Gezi Park evolved into a large social eruption. Relatively little has been said about what this might mean politically, socially, economically and diplomatically in the near future.

No matter from which political angle one looks at the events we have seen in Turkey over the past days, it is clear that one of the biggest problems in Turkey is our weak democratic culture. We have problems in handling different opinions, lifestyles, beliefs and political views and expressing ourselves, compromising, negotiating and reconciling.

Soon, there will be healthy calls for accountability and justice over how the police and authorities and, in some cases, protesters have conducted themselves and how the government handled this process. All of these are necessary, but if we want to see a lasting impact of what we have experienced last week and if we want to learn lessons from it as a nation beyond our usual polarization of “us” versus “them,” we must find ways to conceptualize Gezi Park's memory from now on.



One way of not only memorializing but also seeking to develop Turkey's democratic culture would be to declare Gezi Park as a Speakers' Corner in the style of Hyde Park in London. This would not only make sure that protesters' voices are not lost amid all the party politics and finger pointing that will follow, but also it would give us an inclusive platform to learn to communicate, listen and disagree. Thus, it would be a memorial site with a dynamic and future-looking aspect, which not only seeks to establish an account of what happened but universalizes what we learn or should learn from it.

Without finding a way to remember Gezi right and utilize it for a better future for Turkey, sadly its memory will remain as a divided account, like the protests that took place in Turkey between 2002 and 2008.
What the protests symbolized was much more important and powerful than mere party politics. We saw people from all walks of life, who felt that their voices, thoughts and opinions were not represented either by the government party nor opposition groups, protesting for no major cause but to say, “I am here, this is my view, my concern.” That voice has to be continually heard, beyond who votes or supports what party or follows which cultural or political affinity.

To this end, it would be a symbolic but important step if the Turkish government, in conversation with the protesters, declares Gezi Park as a Speakers' Corner. Both groups can come with a clear list of rules of conduct and post it there. Security forces would be told not to interfere.

Yes, it would be a small and symbolic step. No, it won't solve any major problems. Yes, both the government, opposition parties, NGOs and wider public have so much to learn from the events of last week. But at least it would be a tangible and physical expression, a space and experiment for all of us to learn to respect one another. And who knows, one day, no such physical space might be needed in Turkey and we will all abide by rules of conduct we develop to ensure we talk to and hear one another.

The Danger with Faith-Based Humanitarianism


Published by Today's Zaman, 21 January 2013


Without a doubt, one of the least acknowledged heroes of global efforts to eradicate poverty and diseases, respond to emergencies and advance human rights and welfare are faith-based organizations and initiatives.

Faith-based groups are able to raise funds and mobilize effectively both in their home countries and internationally. Often, their workers are seen in some of the most dangerous places on earth, taking serious risks to their lives, trying to help people in places that traditional organizations or international bodies fail to reach. There is much to applaud in their work. However, just as the work of traditional mainstream charities has often unintended negative side effects, faith-based humanitarianism too has its demons.

While this is increasingly changing, most of the time, faith-based initiatives tend to bring help to and raise awareness of the suffering of their own co-religionists. Thus, Christian groups in the developed world seek to address the persecution of Christians abroad and often send aid to their co-religionists. This applies to all faith-groups, whether Muslim, Christian or Jewish.

This is not necessarily wrong and truly understandable. None of us can address every issue in the world, and all of us choose issues and concerns that we are related to or have an interest in. Writers who support the concerns of writers in other countries, or academics seeking to protect scholars at risk, or feminist groups working on women's rights abroad all emerge from the same human starting point.
However, unless it is balanced and self-reflexive, faith-based initiatives that emerge from a single tradition and only seek to address the suffering of their own co-religionists can undermine not only the welfare of their own brethren abroad in the long run but also the entire sprit of humanitarianism.

For example, the last 10 years have seen an immense increase in persecution of Christians globally. A plethora of Christian groups that promote religious freedom abroad emerged, and almost all of them only address the suffering of Christians in the countries for which they advocate. Yet, all of the problems faced by Christians in a given country are only part of a larger problem that persecutes other minorities too, and only with a holistic approach can their suffering be ultimately addressed. By only raising the suffering of Christians, say in Iran, Christians de facto turn a blind eye to the suffering of others, for example, Baha'is in Iran who suffer much more than Christians. This poses some serious ethical questions about their work.

Most importantly, faith-based activism can easily contribute to the imagined “clash of civilizations” narratives and cement increasing prejudice among faith groups in the world. Take the example of the Turkish discovery of the suffering of Rohingya Muslims in Myanmar. The Turkish public has only recently really heard about them and, by and large, only recently learned where the country is on the world map. When the depth of the suffering of Rohingyas became known, thanks to the efforts of the Turkish government, the Turkish public was rightfully outraged and Turkey rightfully has been working hard to help Muslims in Myanmar. 

 All of this is noble and valuable.However, in the process of this interest and response, calls to help Rohingya Muslims repeated all of the fundamental mistakes of faith-based humanitarianism. In Myanmar, not only the Muslims but other ethno-religious minorities too continue to face ethnic cleansing, famine and serious human rights abuses. Christian peoples of Chin, Kachin and Karen fill up refugee camps on the Thai-Burmese border. Yet, none of the appeals for Myanmar in Turkey raised the issue of their suffering alongside the suffering of the Muslims.

More worryingly, the Rohingya issue often became portrayed in the “when Muslims suffer, the world is silent” narrative. In this case, it can be empirically proven wrong. For more than a decade, I have witnessed first-hand the work of a wide range of groups working on suffering of ethno-religious minorities in Myanmar, most of which were either Western or non-Muslim or were formed by other ethnic exiles from Myanmar. The UNHCR has campaigned for years to address the treatment of Rohingya refugees.

While it was tempting to slip into the usual “evil West” syndrome, hardly any Turkish commentator asked the painful question: Why is it that the Muslims of the world have only discovered the Rohingya now? Similarly, in almost all articles I have read in the Turkish press that lapsed into this “no one cares about Muslims” narrative, none really mentioned that one of the worst expressions of suffering of Rohingyas today is in Muslim-majority Bangladesh.

Such confused representations are often caused by a lack of knowledge of complex issues and awareness of the efforts of so many groups trying to do something. Yet, when faith-based humanitarianism slips into working only for their own brethren and into the narrative of “the world is against us,” it fuels dangerous misperceptions and prejudices. This does not help the suffering of their co-religionists in the long run, and empties their humanitarianism by reducing it to partisanship carried on the global stage.

The solution to this vulnerability of faith-based initiatives does not lie in secular humanism, but in faith traditions themselves. In all religions, we see strong theological mandates to love one's neighbor and help those in need, even when they are utter strangers. Thus, the problem with faith groups today is that they are often not faithful enough. They are vulnerable to give in to the all-too-human sentiments to care for “one of us” when they should be fixing their eyes on their Lord, who teaches them to love and help every human being, no matter who he or she is.

The Future of Gulen Movement


Leaving aside all of the conspiracy theories and anxieties, the Gulen movement, also known as the Hizmet from the Turkish word for service, is one of the most fascinating and out of the box faith-based movements that have emerged from the Muslim world recently.

It is clear that the movement has come a long way from its humble origins in Turkey as a local conservative Islamic initiative to rejuvenate faith into a global network of schools, charities, media outlets and businesses. Today, Turks inspired by the teachings of the Turkish imam and scholar Fethullah Gulen can be seen setting up institutions, organizations and companies in far flung corners of the world.

While most of what is written about the movement remains retrospective and critical of its current status, in this brief article I want to draw attention to few questions that need to be asked in order to forecast the future of the movement.

First of these is what will happen when Mr Gulen passes away? While he still accepts visitors, delivers talks, studies and publishes, it is a well known fact that his health is weak and he does suffer from the all too human limitation of being mortal.

The dynamic nature of the organization of the movement means that even though there is an organic accountability structure, local initiatives are independent in their day to day affairs. Thus, Gulen’s death would not cause a stop or change in any of the movement’s activities.

However, even though currently Gulen only serves as a wise authority that countless bodies approach on issues of disagreement and crisis rather than a CEO with executive powers, without him the movement will lack a ‘plumb line’ that will keep it focused and united.

After Gulen, issues of dispute, difference and conflict will be solved either through interpretation of his work or through the intervention of key figures of the movement, thus opening the door for non-conclusive tensions and debates on ‘what would Gulen do’. This will inevitably create power-tensions and personality clashes among leaders of various segments of the movement as well as different theological preferences.

The movement is now too large and diverse in political, social and economic backgrounds for any voluntary network to maintain coherence and without a spiritual guide that holds its vision together, different voices and cohorts will inevitably pull charities and organizations to different directions.

Will the movement’s Turkish nationalist and liberal voices clash in their visions? Will the globally experienced cosmopolitan affiliates find themselves at odds with Gulen followers in more traditional Turkey? Will significant economic and social uplifting we see in Hizmet circles open the door for resentment of its own privileged elites? In other words, will we see multiple Hizmets?

While most of those who associate themselves with Mr Gulen’s teaching are sincere folk who try do their best to serve to humanity as Muslims, undeniably, it is now profitable to affiliate with the movement for business and self-advancement purposes, thus not all who join the ranks have clear pure motives. Therefore, as its reach and influence continue to grow, will the movement be able to maintain its spiritual core values or will it evolve into becoming nothing short of an Islamic equal of the Rotary or Lions clubs?

The future of the movement also goes through on how it will handle its roots and activities in Turkey. Will the movement remain as a movement of Turks abroad or will it make the jump into becoming a truly global movement that originated in Turkey but includes peoples of all nations? 

Thus far, vast majority of activities of the movement can be seen as Turks carrying the Turkish flag and culture abroad alongside its more universally appealing faith-inspired values. While the movement is enculturating itself abroad through second and third generation migrants and locals who studied in Hizmet schools, it is still dominated by Turks, Turkish and Turkish culture.

Accusations of institutionalization in key Turkish state structures continue to cast a cloudy shadow on the movement, although a lot of this sort of thinking is exaggerated thanks to the annual need in Turkey to find a domestic threat to nation’s secular existence. Nevertheless, the initial know-how and survival strategies of the movement in Turkey are increasingly stifling its global future. Will the movement be able to put its Turkish home in order and move on from its old frameworks?

These are neither all of the questions that need to be asked or a comprehensive list of things to watch out for. Nevertheless, the answers researchers and affiliates of the movement might seek to give to these questions will not only be vital in developing healthier understanding of the movement but also similar new generation Islam inspired civil movements that do not fit into any of traditional categories we ascribe to them.