While Turkey’s institutional crisis shows no signs of abatement, it is worthwhile looking into the sociological dimensions of the ongoing power struggle. One useful tool for this is the term “neighbourhood’s pressure” (mahalle baskisi) coined by Prof. Serif Mardin. Mardin, the octogenarian doyen of Turkish sociology, introduced the term about a year ago in an interview. He caused sensation, as he touched upon the most sensitive aspect of Turkey’s societal transformation. Mardin’s early academic interest in Turkish Islam, particularly in Turkey’s most prominent Islamist thinker in the 20th century, Said Nursi, resulted in some of the most authoritative books on Turkish Islam. While this work established him as a leading expert on the field, he also made plenty of enemies among the secularist academic establishment. Despite his impeccable academic record, his teaching in some of the best US and Turkish universities, Mardin was twice refused membership of the Turkish Academy of Sciences. The apparent reason was his dispassionate approach of Turkey’s Islam, which was not fulfilling the Kemalist credentials of the Academy’s gatekeepers.
In his interview to the daily Vatan, Mardin used the term “neighbourhood’s pressure” to allude to Turkey’s changing social dynamics. The secularist middle class, the “centre”, has been exposed to mounting social pressure due to the rise of a conservative class, the “periphery”, which, while becoming increasingly westernised and globalised, questioned several social values upon which the Republic was founded. This included the role of religion in the shaping of public space and social ethics. Municipalities, which came under the control of peripheral political forces in the 1970s, became the focal point for the empowerment and the dissemination of these values. This eventually resulted in exerting indirect pressure upon the secularists to impose their communitarian values. Lack of respect for individual autonomy meant that whoever diverged from given social values would have to face severe social sanctions.
The term was immediately used by the secularist opposition against the AKP government policies, in the turbulent months which marked the second half of 2007. In particular, the AKP attempts to allow the free use of the headscarf in university campuses was presented as the clearest example of the assault which Turkey’s urban class was allegedly undergoing by the “uncouth neighbourhood forces.” It was argued that the government’s EU membership agenda was only a pretext. Turkey would soon leave the track of EU membership for the path of Islamisation and approximate Malaysia, an illiberal democracy, where economic liberalism thrives but individual autonomy is limited by Islamic social values.
As the debate became overtly politicised, Mardin intervened in order to clarify his position. He stated that he did not agree with a political use of the term which implied an unchangeable, reactionary nature of Islam. He dissociated the term “neighbourhood’s pressure” from the AKP government arguing that this is an independent phenomenon preceding the emergence of this party. The neighbourhood was the main collective unit of the Ottoman Muslim society, organised around the mosque, Islamic brotherhoods and guilds, which espoused a certain set of social values heavily influenced by Islam. When Ataturk launched his reform programme, republican education aimed to substitute a new set of social values. In that Kulturkampf, the “teacher” was juxtaposed with the “imam.” The teacher of the republican school became the vector of the secularist, positivist principles of the Republic, while the imam represented the set of traditional social values inherited from the Ottoman society. In Mardin’s opinion, the result of this struggle was clear: In the battle for the hearts and minds of the Turkish people, the teacher was defeated. Mardin pointed at the intellectual poverty and dryness of Kemalism which allowed for Islamic ethics to gain undisputed preponderance in society. Kemalism’s interest in moral issues, “the good, the right and the beautiful” was scant, and Islam remained the strongest factor in the formation of Turkish social ethics. Therefore, any steps towards Turkey’s democratic consolidation were inevitably followed by a rise in the public visibility of Islam, as the social values espoused by the majority of the society became increasingly pronounced. These values were not the same with those espoused a century ago. Globalisation, economic liberalism had left their trace on them, while they were still characterised by a heavy Islamic imprint. The rise of the AKP was therefore not the cause of the “neighbourhood’s pressure” but rather its effect. It mirrored at the political level what had been noted at the ideological level. Ironically the “imam” had shown greater adaptability to world ideological and economic trends than the “teacher.” Therefore, he turned out to be more successful.
Mardin added that the main shortcoming of the “neighbourhood’s pressure,” its lack of respect for individual autonomy and difference was not a feature exclusively characterising the conservative camp, but pervaded the whole of Turkish society. Both secularist and conservative camps were not willing to tolerate each other’s moral values and individual choices. Therefore, the real issue at stake was how to inculcate a spirit of toleration for individual choice which could allow both secularists and Islamists to follow different lifestyles in mutual respect within the same society. This would require a fundamental mental shift from both sides, and the European Union would be in the best position to facilitate this transformation process. By setting political liberalisation as membership criterion and through socialisation with European political and social values it could diffuse political liberalism and increase respect for individual autonomy. Under these conditions, both conservative and secularist lifestyles would be possible and mutually tolerated.
For the time being, this discussion may sound a bit lofty. If the highest court shows little respect to the constitutional order, it is difficult to demand popular respect for the rule of law and individual rights, let alone build social confidence and trust between embattled sides. Reconciliation between the centre and the periphery could only be reached through the cultivation of a liberal culture of mutual toleration. The debate, which Mardin’s interview has sparked, highlighted the difficulty as well as the significance of achieving this task.
(Published on Athens News on 20 June 2008)
In his interview to the daily Vatan, Mardin used the term “neighbourhood’s pressure” to allude to Turkey’s changing social dynamics. The secularist middle class, the “centre”, has been exposed to mounting social pressure due to the rise of a conservative class, the “periphery”, which, while becoming increasingly westernised and globalised, questioned several social values upon which the Republic was founded. This included the role of religion in the shaping of public space and social ethics. Municipalities, which came under the control of peripheral political forces in the 1970s, became the focal point for the empowerment and the dissemination of these values. This eventually resulted in exerting indirect pressure upon the secularists to impose their communitarian values. Lack of respect for individual autonomy meant that whoever diverged from given social values would have to face severe social sanctions.
The term was immediately used by the secularist opposition against the AKP government policies, in the turbulent months which marked the second half of 2007. In particular, the AKP attempts to allow the free use of the headscarf in university campuses was presented as the clearest example of the assault which Turkey’s urban class was allegedly undergoing by the “uncouth neighbourhood forces.” It was argued that the government’s EU membership agenda was only a pretext. Turkey would soon leave the track of EU membership for the path of Islamisation and approximate Malaysia, an illiberal democracy, where economic liberalism thrives but individual autonomy is limited by Islamic social values.
As the debate became overtly politicised, Mardin intervened in order to clarify his position. He stated that he did not agree with a political use of the term which implied an unchangeable, reactionary nature of Islam. He dissociated the term “neighbourhood’s pressure” from the AKP government arguing that this is an independent phenomenon preceding the emergence of this party. The neighbourhood was the main collective unit of the Ottoman Muslim society, organised around the mosque, Islamic brotherhoods and guilds, which espoused a certain set of social values heavily influenced by Islam. When Ataturk launched his reform programme, republican education aimed to substitute a new set of social values. In that Kulturkampf, the “teacher” was juxtaposed with the “imam.” The teacher of the republican school became the vector of the secularist, positivist principles of the Republic, while the imam represented the set of traditional social values inherited from the Ottoman society. In Mardin’s opinion, the result of this struggle was clear: In the battle for the hearts and minds of the Turkish people, the teacher was defeated. Mardin pointed at the intellectual poverty and dryness of Kemalism which allowed for Islamic ethics to gain undisputed preponderance in society. Kemalism’s interest in moral issues, “the good, the right and the beautiful” was scant, and Islam remained the strongest factor in the formation of Turkish social ethics. Therefore, any steps towards Turkey’s democratic consolidation were inevitably followed by a rise in the public visibility of Islam, as the social values espoused by the majority of the society became increasingly pronounced. These values were not the same with those espoused a century ago. Globalisation, economic liberalism had left their trace on them, while they were still characterised by a heavy Islamic imprint. The rise of the AKP was therefore not the cause of the “neighbourhood’s pressure” but rather its effect. It mirrored at the political level what had been noted at the ideological level. Ironically the “imam” had shown greater adaptability to world ideological and economic trends than the “teacher.” Therefore, he turned out to be more successful.
Mardin added that the main shortcoming of the “neighbourhood’s pressure,” its lack of respect for individual autonomy and difference was not a feature exclusively characterising the conservative camp, but pervaded the whole of Turkish society. Both secularist and conservative camps were not willing to tolerate each other’s moral values and individual choices. Therefore, the real issue at stake was how to inculcate a spirit of toleration for individual choice which could allow both secularists and Islamists to follow different lifestyles in mutual respect within the same society. This would require a fundamental mental shift from both sides, and the European Union would be in the best position to facilitate this transformation process. By setting political liberalisation as membership criterion and through socialisation with European political and social values it could diffuse political liberalism and increase respect for individual autonomy. Under these conditions, both conservative and secularist lifestyles would be possible and mutually tolerated.
For the time being, this discussion may sound a bit lofty. If the highest court shows little respect to the constitutional order, it is difficult to demand popular respect for the rule of law and individual rights, let alone build social confidence and trust between embattled sides. Reconciliation between the centre and the periphery could only be reached through the cultivation of a liberal culture of mutual toleration. The debate, which Mardin’s interview has sparked, highlighted the difficulty as well as the significance of achieving this task.
(Published on Athens News on 20 June 2008)
Posts
