May 11, 2010

Interfaith dialogue was the rule of the day. In fact, the Turkish Cultural Center of Tampa Bay brought me here to teach me more about the country and its people. As part of the agenda, I was to consider the benefits of a sort of “Can’t we all just get along” philosophy of F. Gülen. My agenda was totally selfish: Constantinople (notably, not Istanbul), Ephesus and Troy. But they were paying my way, after all. The least I could do was learn a little something about Turkey and Gülen. So in preparation for the journey, which began shortly before I got on board the plane, I began reading about the Gülen movement, modern Turkish politics and wondering why there’s no one in this country who does what I do. Turkey is a wonderland to me. Why wouldn’t it be the same for the Turks who live in the shadow of such amazing ruins?

That question wouldn’t be answered today. Instead, after a little shopping in the Grand Bazaar, the group was whisked off for lunch in Çamlica complete with breathtaking views of Istanbul. Thereafter began a whirlwind tour of agencies that were committed to interfaith dialogue and disaster relief. Our first stop was at BAKIAD, where we watched a terribly sappy movie, drank tea and heard about the Bosphorus-Atlantic something something something which amounted to an attempt to educated Americans about how great Turkey is and how, if only we could meet, we’d all get along splendidly and our political tensions would dissolve. Another stop at the Journalist and Writers Foundation found us in ultra plush surroundings, hearing about the dreams for peace advocated by F. Gülen. I wondered how a group of journalists, who claim to report objectively (in the same way that positivist historians claimed objectivity) were supposed to add to the movement without becoming partisan. Of course, I knew before I asked the question that everyone – journalists and historians, especially – has agenda. The question about how honest we are about our agenda is the real sticking point. I’m still trying to decide just how honest the Gülen movement is about theirs. Once again, I heard about how if the “Abrahamic faiths” focus upon our similarities rather than our differences, everything would be fine. Leave it to one of my colleagues to bring up the 1914 Armenian genocide and the issue of the Kurds to the very proper young man with the clipped Birmingham accent. (Leave it to another to describe the man as “prissy”.) There was a great deal of global scale discussion of things that none of us could really control, no matter how much we pretended. I asked what precisely journalists and writer were doing to further this interfaith dialogue and heard nothing really worth while except that journalists were encouraged to change the names of things (no “a spade’s a spade” here!), to avoid headlines that could promote tensions and think good thoughts. Hm. As an historian (sister discipline to journalism), I’m skeptical. I’m still waiting for the other shoe to drop. Surely it’s not that simple and these people want something more from me than good will. In fact, all this talk of interfaith dialogue seems lost on me. My own experience with religion has left me suspicious of anyone who raises a banner or claims to be able to tell me what God thinks. Then there’s the other component of religion that as an historian I find terribly difficult to ignore. Throughout time, religion has been used to promote political agenda. Though those who have religious power claim some connection to the divine have used it as a tool to accomplish political goals. Can we then sidestep historical fact and pretend now that the tool is really the issue and can bring us together to overcome political “disagreements” like genocide?

Our final visit was to a Turkish NGO for Disaster Relief, Kimse Yok Mu. My skepticism was still high as the sappy video began. Now this organization was someplace special. I’d already learned from my book club friends that NGO’s are not in any way limited to the United States. Kimse Yok Mu means “Is anybody there?” in Turkish and refers to a woman’s cry who was trapped beneath the rubble in a 1998 earthquake that struck some 60 miles outside Istanbul. The organization has since sent aid to nations in trouble across the world and is currently helping Haiti to rebuild after the devastating quake of 2010. What’s beautiful about this organization is that it’s run entirely on donations and is as interested in helping Turkey’s own poor as it is in gaining international notoriety. Still more beautiful is a recent program sponsored by Kimse Yok Mu that trains divorced or abandoned women to use woodworking tools and sell their crafts. The first graduating class received as a gift their own tools and a supply of lumber to get them started. Three stayed on to train the next class, and the government has decided to open 30 more such centers.

As I listened to how these Turks were finding ways to help around the world, again my mind turned to what I could do locally. My next project will be to incorporate a component of service based learning in my classes.

It was a long, thought provoking day, followed by an amazing meal by the most lovely people who welcomed us, fed us and sent us home loaded with gifts. I’m still not entirely sure what to make of these politics, but there’s something really wonderful about hoping and dreaming of making the world a better place by embracing our neighbors and serving their needs.