Nationalism and neighbourliness

The ordinary horizon that President Abdullah Gül pointed to in his speech at the opening of the TBMM, for a country that has proven its democratic quality, evidently seemed to the opposition leaders an exceedingly extraordinary, even adventurous opening. Devlet Bahçeli's reaction to Gül, who said we should take differences as the riches of the country, was: "The honorable president spoke like a president visiting from a country of differences. That he gave no place to the concept of Turk anywhere in the text also saddened us." He is not even aware that, even when what he is looking at is society, seeing no difference there is at best an eye defect. He stands out as a tragic example of how crippling to politics a view that does not notice difference, and has no dream or horizon about the beauty that differences can bring forth, can be.

Deniz Baykal, for his part, said, on account of his counsel that urgent measures be taken to stop the bloodshed, that the honorable President is "in a dreamworld in which the problem can be solved without giving martyrs." The only way he can propose for the solution of a problem that has continued for 25 years and regularly withers the young saplings of both sides is regularly "giving martyrs"; there is no other way…

The oddity of Baykal, as the leader of a party that is at the same time the most radical representative of secularism, clinging to a discourse of martyrdom that belongs entirely to a religious sphere is a separate matter. But the most important thing a secular conception of politics should promise society is surely "life," isn't it? The ambition that so detaches from this world and makes "fly" a political discourse that invests so heavily in people's "death" deserves urgent attention. Meanwhile the CHP must decide this: should it be a party of this world, or the party of an "other world" of unclear nature, about which it can promise no guarantee whatsoever?

It emerges on many occasions that secularism contains within itself an uncontrolled and rule-free (in a sense bookless) religiosity. This religiosity, which when the occasion arises can use Islam's lexicon as if squandering it recklessly, appears at times as anti-Islamism, and at other times, in the name of a strange Muslim identity, as anti-missionary sentiment, anti-Christian or anti-Jewish sentiment, or hostility to the West. Strangely, the Islamization of almost 99 percent of Turkey's population took place during the time when the Republic's most secular policies were being implemented.

But it is a fact that must be acknowledged that this Islamization, because it also corresponded to a kind of nationalization, suffered a serious loss of quality. The quality of a Muslim existence that encounters no different element, has no field of common experience, and does not feel the presence of the "other" in order to develop an ethic toward the "other," was shaped under the pressure of the whole exclusionary ideology of a secular nationalism. That is why today we cannot even know how fruitful the conditions of coexisting with different elements and breathing the same air with them are.

The results of a survey conducted by the Frekans research company on society's "view of different identities and of Jewishness" present very interesting data in this respect. According to it, 90 percent of society has had no contact in life with a Jew, an Armenian or a Greek, yet 42 percent of the same society does not want a Jewish neighbor and 35 percent does not want a Christian one. People produce serious antipathy about people with whom they have never had contact in their lives.

Even so, although the indicators on this matter (that is, indicators of intolerance in society) seem far above the world average, it must also be noted that neighborly relations in the world are somewhat different from those in Turkey. Because in the Western countries used for comparison, relations among neighbors either do not exist or are very rare, so people can remain relatively much more indifferent to what goes on in a neighbor's house. In Turkey, however, relations among neighbors are somewhat more intense, and so what happens to people next door falls of its own accord within one's field of interest. There can be no indifference to the neighbor's situation. In a culture where principles or sayings such as "he cannot sleep full while his neighbor is hungry" or "don't buy a house, buy a neighbor" are valid, it is of course not possible to compare these indicators one to one. Moreover, that these rates have remained at this level despite a kind of "xenophobia" produced by the nationalist ideological discourse that has been operated since the Republic's first years can, all things considered, be counted as a good sign.

In Turkey the discourse of political party leaders incites society not to mix with one another but rather to hate one another. That politicians bear no responsibility for what kind of reflection their extremely angry squabbles may have on society is a serious problem, yet it is still a fact to be thankful for that society's deep common sense does not respond to these discourses in the same proportion.