Deep Divisions Lie Behind Head Scarf Issue

From the fairy chimneys of Cappadocia to the waters of the Bosphorus, from the Christian frescos of old churches to the tiles of the Blue Mosque, from the ancient ruins of Ephesus to the restored synagogues of Izmir, from the mystical sky of Rumi's Konya to the high rises of commercial Istanbul, from headscarves and long coats to short skirts and the latest European fashions, Turkey is a land of contrasts and contradictions.

As guests of the Holy Dove Foundation, a Muslim organization inspired by Fethullah Gülen's teachings of peace, interfaith dialogue and cultural exchange, we were among a group of Hoosiers treated to an extraordinary 10-day excursion through a country shaped by an intriguing history and steeped in an equally fascinating present.

The issue dominating the media in Turkey during our visit was the controversy surrounding the government's decision to allow the wearing of head scarves in public universities and the Turkish Supreme Court's judgment to disallow it as unconstitutional and its threat to declare Prime Minister Tayyip Erdogan's ruling Justice and Welfare Party as illegal.

At first glance, the wearing of head scarves might appear to be a simple issue of religious freedom and civil rights. But in Turkey, what seemed to us as Americans a matter of civil liberties was in fact a manifestation of a deeper and far more complicated reality.

For so-called "secular" Turks, the head scarf is a symbol of the Ottoman period before the early 20th century secularist revolution and reforms of Atatürk, founder of the modern Turkish Republic. Geography informs history. Fearful of neighboring Islamist regimes, the secularists regard the head scarf not merely as a religious symbol but as a political statement. One young secular woman told us, "I am a Muslim. I pray with my 3-year-old son every night. I am religious too." She was not critical of those who wear the scarf as a genuine reflection of their faith, but she feared a political agenda that sought greater influence of religion in government and public life.

But even as we were inclined to favor the "secular argument," we heard the words of another young Muslim woman who wore the scarf. "I don't think women have to wear a scarf to be religious. It's not a commandment, but it helps me to focus on my faith. I feel embarrassed to be in public without my scarf, but I support other women who make a different choice."

One wonders, were the issue something other than the scarf, an object that for some symbolizes women's submission, whether the controversy would be so acrimonious.

Wherever we went, we experienced not merely diverse communities but dichotomous worldviews.

In Istanbul we visited Ishak Alaton, a distinguished Jewish Turkish business and civic leader. He is concerned that what endangers Turkey's future is "secular fundamentalists, Islamic fundamentalists, the ultra-nationalists. . . " These trends threaten tolerance and democracy, religious freedom and dialogue.

What is urgently needed in Turkey, and around the world, is an earnest dialogue not only among faith traditions, but between the religious and the secular. The welcoming hospitality and the efforts of Gülen's followers to promote coexistence and understanding are hopeful evidence of this quest.

For such a dialogue to succeed, the simplistic dichotomy between "religious" and "secular" needs to be transcended. The secular and the religious are not each other's enemies. Both have a vested interest in a democracy that protects the rights of all but refuses to give governmental endorsement to the religion of any.

This unique separation of church and state is what we in America celebrate on July Fourth. Our experience in Turkey reminds us to be ever vigilant of the precious gift of our nation's founders.

Sasso is senior rabbi at Congregation Beth-El Zedeck in Indianapolis.