Today, 98 or 99 percent of Turks are Muslim, the vast majority of whom are Sunni. Public displays of Muslim faith are strictly forbidden in official settings, however. This is thanks to the strictly secularist principles espoused by Atatürk, enshrined in the latest constitution by the leaders of the 1980 military coup, and enforced today by the Kemalist "deep state" apparatus rooted in the military and the courts that everyone loves to hate.
The schools are now a major public battleground between Turkey's Islamic and secularist factions. Specifically at issue is the full ban on headscarves in schools, despite the fact that approximately 70 percent of Turkish women choose to cover their hair. This ban is in effect at all levels from primary school to university, and it has been a source of increasing angst among female Turkish students. The hotly contested package of reforms proposed by the current Justice and Democracy Party (AKP)-led government originally had included a measure to lift the headscarf ban, but the provision was struck down by the traditionally conservative Turkish Constitutional Court before the referendum was approved by voters on September 12.
Just a few days ago, I had an unexpected encounter with Turkey's secularism-in-schools norms. I have grown out my beard over the last month. I have also made a commitment to teach English at a local elementary school as part of the McGhee Center's Community-Based Learning initiative. The first time I showed up to class with my beard, it was an instant sensation with the students. Initially, I chalked up their amazement to the novelty of my new and bright red beard. The Turkish teacher we work with, however, explained that the children were excited to see a teacher with a beard, since teachers "like all Turkish civil servants" are forbidden to grow beards. As with so many seemingly thoughtless details, "Water before or after coffee? What do you mean I can't combine cold food and hot food?!", growing out my beard ended up sending cultural signals of which I was unaware. It turns out that mustaches are considered Turkish, while beards connote leftist/Islamist political views.
Turkey is a land of apparent contradictions: liberals want to bring religion back into public life while conservatives want to keep it out. Every imam and muezzin is educated, employed, and monitored by the avowedly secular government's Ministry of Religious Affairs. As one of our professors noted, Turkey is a land of Byzantine churches turned into Ottoman mosques turned into museums, the churches of the Turkish secular state.
Turkey has been secular to a fault for close to 90 years. Now, it seems that the time has come for Turkey to forge its own identity, but no one is sure what form that identity should take. Should it take the leftist path, forgoing the uncertain prospect of EU accession in favor of an eastward-looking, less-secular future? Should it listen to the political conservatives, keeping strict secularism in force and prioritizing EU membership? Is there perhaps a third way in which Turkey could publicly embrace its Muslim identity and become a respected regional power without being labeled Islamist or turning its back on Europe?
Based on the recent growth of public support for relaxing Kemalist secularism and waning enthusiasm for EU accession, it seems that something is going to have to give. Most Turks I have talked to feel like change is just around the corner. They envision a very different Turkey within the next generation.
As a Muslim country bordering the Arab world and a westward-looking prospective member of the European Union, Turkey is a literal and metaphorical gateway between the two regions. Turkey has the opportunity define itself independently of both the Eurocentric modernization paradigm and the Islamist/statist ideologies of many of its neighbors. Skillfully charting a course between the two would fulfill Atatürk's dream of a Turkish republic based on "Liberty, Equality, Fraternity, and Justice" for all, a phrase that unites the ideals of the French Revolution with the distinctly Islamic conception of justice.
