Respectable People at the Brothel

Going back to my childhood years in the '70s, I remember one of the most thrilling occasions being Victory Day celebrations every Aug. 30. My family would take me to downtown Adana, where we could watch Turkish troops parade with their amazing grace, power and rhythm. They say every Turk is born a soldier. Indeed, in my family's dreams, I would one day become a military officer and rock the world as a pasha (general). If it weren't for my relatively poor athletic skills, that might have very well been the case

I come from a conventional lower middle-class Anatolian family that was not distinctly religious. But destiny put me in a religious fraternity in my college years in 1980s. As a freshman with a newly discovered religious lifestyle, I started making observations about the way the military treats religion. Reading press reports on how individuals with suspected ties to peaceful religious communities are expelled from military schools and ranks, many of my friends and I had the impression that they do not want to see very pious people around. How would you have felt as religious and patriotic teenagers if you had sensed that the commanders you always saw as role models would never embrace you the way you are? Pushed away, disappointed, you name it. Those were the sentiments in our broken young hearts back then

After graduating from Bogaziçi University, I started working for Zaman newspaper. Twenty years ago Zaman was not as mainstream as it is today. It's not that we, as a newspaper, endorsed violence or engaged in anti-regime activities, but we were obviously less circulated and more inward-looking in those days. The Zaman newsroom consisted mostly of an emerging new generation of "born-again Muslims." This generation was experiencing integration problems with the secularist-dominated environment overall, sometimes even with their own families. I remember now with regret refusing to eat my mom's wonderful meals when I suspected they didn't meet my extremely strict criteria for halal (according to Islamic rulings). But isn't exaggeration a trait of all teenagers anyway?

To be fair, despite personal misjudgments like the above, overall the Zaman family has always been a pioneer of moderation among faith-motivated groups. Religiosity rose in Turkey in the 1990s and 2000s, but fortunately fundamentalism has not, partly thanks to Zaman's increasingly responsible line. Former President Turgut Özal-led structural reforms created jobs in empowered private sectors such as the media and education, and even in the bureaucratic sector (especially for those who chose not to expose their religiosity). That helped born-again Muslims adapt as well; we became part of a larger transformation process in Turkey. Without necessarily abandoning our core values, we have chosen a path for dialogue, harmony and respect for others who are not like us, mainly thanks to teachings like those of Fethullah Gülen.

Make no mistake; it's been a long and painful process. And it still is. There have always been people left behind. People like me have often been criticized by slow learners for being too compromising. On the other hand, it's been impossible to convince some others that our religiosity does not pose a threat to their secular lifestyle.

Most young born-again Muslims have matured in time, yielding a conservative new elite that now constitutes an indispensable element of the social, economic and political fabric of contemporary Turkey. But unfortunately their evolution and positive contributions to the nation still receive little credit. For example, although by all standards Zaman represents one of the most constructive and prominent newspapers in Turkey today, we are still on the fringe in the eyes of a small but influential group. The military chief of general staff does not even allow us access to any public military activities.

I can understand why the old guard in particular in our bureaucracy and religious communities cannot effectively communicate with each other. There are mutual biases that are deeply rooted. But whenever I have had a chance to open myself up to so-called secularists, they said, "You look like a decent guy, not a fanatic." The problem is that they think I am an anomaly. Actually, I'm not

A military officer once told a story to explain his relationship with me. There was a lady a man liked very much. She was so elegant, so respectable. But she worked at a brothel. Therefore it was impossible for the man to have any public affiliation with her If only my officer friend had met others as well from the "brothel," I'm sure he would have found many soul mates there and eventually would have discovered that we are not in the brothel business at all

It might require some more time and courage for the democratic engagement and understanding process to work itself out in Turkey, breaking respective prejudices including the one between the secularist national security establishment and intellectually progressive religious conservatives.

For my part, I remain patient and hopeful