Many western readers are unfamiliar with Bediüzzaman Said Nursi, an Islamic scholar who wrote mostly in the first half of the twentieth century. Those few who are familiar with Nursi – who know that he was routinely persecuted by the nascent government of the Turkish republic or that he inspired hundreds of students – are likely unfamiliar with his writings and ideas. His Qur’anic commentary, the Risale-i Nur, is more than 6000 pages long, and his readers have generally been reserved to their own reading circles.

Thankfully, there is a (relatively) new collection of essays out. Titled God, Man, and Mortality: The Perspective of Bediüzzaman Said Nursi, the book serves as a convenient jumping off point for Western readers who know little or nothing about Nursi’s ideas.

As is natural in a collection about a thinker as complex and voluminous as Nursi, the essays themselves vary in tone, style, approach, and – yes – quality. The first essay in the collection, by Bilal Kuşpınar, is not one of the most scholarly or incisive pieces, but it serves as a good introduction to Nursi’s ideas and the Risale. It summarizes Nursi’s views on human conscience, which is foundational knowledge for the rest of the essays in the collection: “Nursi believes that ‘the conscience is a kind of metaphysical entity or spiritual faculty inherent in every human being.’” Later, Kuşpınar writes, “Nursi intends to show that man, by virtue of his conscience, can establish communion with the world of the Unseen, provided that the conscience remains unadulterated and uninfluenced.”

Most of the essays in God, Man, and Mortality can be broken down into two broad categories: those that are more scholarly; and those that are more informal and concerned with the application of Nursi’s ideas in everyday life.

Of the former, the standout is “Man as Vicegerent of the Earth: How New Is Said Nursi’s Intepretation?” by Şükran Vahide. Vahide explores how Nursi viewed man’s role in the Universe, as outlined by the Qur’an:

Similarly to other beings, man is thus an official with duties; it is only by virtue of the wealth of his faculties and the comprehensiveness of his disposition that he has been made vicegerent of the earth, and the obligations and functions that it entails have been made incumbent on him.

Vahide does an impressive job of placing Nursi within the proper historical and intellectual context. She illuminates where Nursi’s thinking was drawn from historical sources and where it diverged. To wit:

As was noted above, the present author has not found to date any other commentator who links the teaching of the [divine] names and the vicegerency with the miracles of the Prophets and mankind’s civilizational progress. The whole ethos of this interpretation, based on such notions as civilization, science, and material progress, is clearly modernist and has its roots in nineteenth-century European thought.

Vahide examines Nursi’s place within classical and modernist Islamic thought, but perhaps most fascinating is her study of Nursi’s place within Sufi thought. The movement Nursi inspired has always been difficult to define, but many have thoughtlessly labeled him and his students Sufis. Nursi himself disagreed with this assessment: “Nursi was adamant that he was not involved in Sufism … indeed, he argued that Sufism was inappropriate for the modern age since it was ill-equipped to reply to the intellectual assaults of materialism.”

Among the other more “scholarly” essays Kerim Balcı’s piece, “Agents of Human Spirituality: Dominical Subtle Faculties of Man According to Said Nursi” is another deeply researched text that draws on classical Islamic thinkers to assess Nursi’s ideas. Balcı explores humanity’s Ten Subtle Faculties, as enumerated by Nursi in his Risale. Balcı digs into not just the Sufi roots of Nursi’s ideas, but also their roots in Greek and even Hindu sciences and philosophies. It’s the most complex essay in a collection of thoughtful, complicated pieces.

Zeki Sarıtoprak’s “Nursi on the Problem of Theodicy” is a fascinating examination of the question of evil. Can evil be reconciled with “the Most Just God”? Once again, the author studies Nursi’s ideas alongside those of his historical peers. It’s a fascinating essay about a question that has vexed philosophers and thinkers for millennia. As Sarıtoprak shows, the question is less troubling for Sunni Islamic thinkers than it has been for Westerners. Nursi himself said, “In everything, even in the things that appear as the ugliest, there is an aspect of real beauty.” Echoing this, Sarıtoprak writes, “There is an overwhelming concept of justice in this world, but in the Islamic understanding this world and the other world complement each other. So, if something is not finished in this world it does not mean that there is no justice.”

From among the second category of articles, two were most intriguing. Mahsheed Ansari writes about Millennials’ (or Generation Y’s) struggle with mortality and faith. In his estimation, Millennials (of which this reviewer is one), “are often characterized as being ‘demanding, impatient and bad at communicating’ – a generation of ‘individuals’ who are mostly self-driven.” As she later writes, they are defined by “‘individualism’ that pervades contemporary Western culture.”

Ansari’s essay is equal parts fascinating and infuriating. She’s not wrong that many Westerners live an “excessively material lifestyle” or that traditional religious faith is on the decline. She makes the valid point that materialist philosophy has left many people feeling adrift and without meaning. This sense of meaninglessness has also resulted in higher incidences of self-harm, suicide, and drug abuse.

What one may call a broad generalization in Ansari’s essay is that for her many Westerners “now deal more with machinery and technology than with humans,” which is true. But it’s also true that there are humans behind every piece of machinery and technology we use. More often than not, people are using their cell phones or computers to connect with other people. They may be an imperfect medium, but the communities and bonds they build are real.

Another generalization in this essay is about Millennials. When looking at consumption and voting habits, it is baby boomers, not Millennials, who are excessively individualistic and materialistic. Part of Millennials sense of despair is at having to live in a world that has been desiccated by Boomers’ selfish rates of consumption.

Ansari obviously has a dog in this fight, though: she believes people are afraid of dying and, without faith in God, will never find meaning. As she writes, a person “wants, seeks, and yearns

for eternity, but the reality of his mortality and the inevitability of death bring pain and no fulfillment to his essence and core.” The answer, Ansari posits, drawing on Nursi, “is a firm belief in the ‘Eternal Existent Being.’” Augmenting this argument with statistics – say, lower rates of suicide and substance abuse in religious communities – could have been very useful. But it’s an argument delivered in good faith, and it’s certainly true that many Millennials are searching for the greater sense of community and selflessness that faith and religious communities provide.

In “Sincerity and Wisdom in the Fully Human Person: Ikhlas in the Risale-i Nur,” Father Thomas Michel outlines Nursi’s Nine Rules for Conduct among believers in the same community. These rules were intended to eliminate rivalry and jealousy, which Nursi had observed in his own students. As Michel writes, “Nursi’s point is that differing points of view need not cause division, factions, and enmity within the community.”

Michel writes in an engaging, personal tone. He extends Nursi’s rules to the Christian community and also to dialogue between Christians and Muslims. Knowing Michel to be an all-embracing person of peace, it’s only logical to extend these rules of conduct to people of other faith traditions, too. In such troubled times, one would hope that people of faith understand the need for unity with all people of good conscience, assuming their decency is genuinely held. A person need not believe in Christ or follow Muhammad’s example to live by Prophetic values. Conversely, there is plenty of evidence in today’s world of people who claim faith in God – faith that is, in many cases, sincerely held – who disgrace the good name of Christians and Muslims the world over.

Michel ends by quoting James: “But the wisdom from above is first of all pure, then peaceable, gentle, compliant, full of mercy and good fruits, impartial and sincere.” The challenge for believers – and non-believers – in today’s world is to go beyond identities and instead form bonds based on shared goals and sincerity. Muslims, Christians, Buddhists, and Atheists alike are concerned about the environment, about justice, and about violence. They should be able to work with each other to solve these problems. In fact, they must.

God, Man, and Mortality is the kind of essay collection that poses intractable questions. In the writings of Said Nursi, the book’s authors seek to answer some of the most vexing problems facing the contemporary world. And though they do not always find the answers, in Nursi’s timeless wisdom, they often finds the beginnings of the answers – the roots from which a healthy tree might someday grow. They’ve done a great service by introducing Western audiences to Nursi’s ideas in an accessible, well-researched collection.

Buy This Book

God, Man, and Mortality: The Perspective of Bediüzzaman Said Nursi
Edited by Hasan Horkuc
9781597843294
pp. 208
Tughra Books

Question: Why are forgiveness, generosity, chastity, and speaking up for truth said to be the four virtues very difficult to accomplish?

The following is related in Al-Munabbihat (The Counsel) with reference to Ali ibn Abi Talib, may God be pleased with him: “The following four virtues are the most difficult of deeds: Being able to forgive while enraged, showing generosity during hardship, remaining chaste in the face of temptation while in private, always speaking up for truth in the face of another whom one fears or from whom one expects a benefit.”

Considering the linguistic conditions of the time, one tends to think that the sayings attributed to noble Ali in Nahj al-Balaga (The Peak of Eloquence) may have actually originated in the third or fourth Islamic centuries when scholarly disciplines had been developed. However, when we consider his unique spiritual qualities and his position as the father of a chain of saintly people, then it is highly possible that he was inspired to have said these words. It is also possible for those people from a later period to have rephrased his original statements by enriching them with the meanings and concepts of their own period.

Every deed has a difficult aspect of its own. Making ablutions every day, observing the prescribed prayers, fasting throughout the day particularly on long, hot days, donating from lawful gains, observing the pilgrimage, observing the rights of parents without any complaint near them… When such acts of worship and responsibilities are viewed, it will be seen that each of them has certain difficulties of its own. However, Ali, may God be pleased with him, particularly draws attention to four issues that he sees as the most difficult among deeds.

Forgiveness while enraged

Swallowing one’s rage and showing forgiveness at the moment when a one’s rage overflows like magma is a deed the Qur’an praises and encourages people to do. For example: “They spend (out of what God has provided for them) both in ease and hardship, ever-restraining their rage (even when provoked and able to retaliate), and pardoning people (their offenses)…” (Al Imran 3:134). With this Divine verse, God states that swallowing one’s rage and pardoning others is a quality of God-revering and pious ones (those with taqwa). He brings to our attention that swallowing one’s rage is as difficult a task as swallowing a thorny cactus. Surely, the reward for a person who accomplishes such a deed will be greater accordingly.

Forgiving is easy for a person who is not disturbed by anyone, who is in a good mood, who is shown appreciation and love by others. What really matters is a person’s giving his willpower its due at a time when he is bothered and troubled by others, and is in a rage because of that—to not respond in the same way and show forgiveness.

In fact, a human being is not a creature that has to react in the same way when some others touch him with their horns. God Almighty, may His glory be exalted, left no gap in human abilities. He endowed humanity with the way to perfection and created them as perfect beings. He granted them such a willpower that, when a person is able to harness its full potential, he can carry out the most difficult deeds and subjugate his feelings of anger and rage by taking them under control.

The word for forgiveness in Arabic is afw, and it means “erasing something.” That is to say, you deliberately ignore some of the attitudes and behaviors displayed by others which disturb and enrage you, and virtually white them out in your mind. You do not even allow all of these negativities to take a place in your mind or leave a trace in your neurons. Even if they pressurize you to the degree of affecting your health, you erase them from your cortex.  This truly is a difficult deed to fulfill. However, once a person is able to accomplish that, namely, build a character predisposed for forgetting others’ evils, then the rewards in the afterlife will be very different. It is likely that in response to this forgiving attitude, the Divine punishment due for certain wrongs and sins committed by that person will be erased and he will be blessed with Divine forgiveness in return for having forgiven others.

Showing generosity in times of hardship

It is easy for a person with a substantial fortune to be generous because it will not seriously diminish by giving some of it away. What will a person who has a thousand dollars lose if he gives away one dollar of it? What really matters is being able to give for God’s sake during hardship. As forgiveness during rage is an invitation for Divine forgiveness, generosity during times of hardship is an invitation for Divine generosity.

Ali, may God be pleased with him, draws attention to the altruistic virtue of ithar, preferring others over oneself; ithar is a person’s giving his food to another while he himself is hungry and thirsty. God Almighty states the following in relation to this issue: “…and in their hearts do not begrudge what they (other believers) have been given, and (indeed) they prefer them over themselves, even though poverty be their own lot” (al-Hashr 59:9).

During the Battle of Yarmuk, a Companion with dried-up lips, on the verge of death, was about to drink the water they brought for him. On hearing another dying Companion asking for water, he beckoned for the water to be taken to him instead. When the second Companion received the water, he heard the same moan from a third and beckoned for the water to be taken to him instead. This repeated until the water was taken to seven different people. In the end, all of them were martyred and none of those altruistic souls was able to drink the water. It is one of the most striking and beautiful examples of the virtue of ithar, preferring others over oneself, as an outward reflection of living for the sake of others in the true sense and remaining loyal to real human values.

Being able to remain chaste in the face of temptation when in private

The Messenger of God, peace and blessings be upon him, referred to the seven categories of people who will be provided with shade by the Divine Throne on the Day of Judgment when no other shade exists. He revealed that one of these is someone who rejects the indecent invitation of a woman of status and beauty by responding to her by saying, “I fear God.” [1]

In a way, it is easy to appear decent in others’ sight. It is not easy for people to commit sin while others’ eyes are on them. However, when someone finds himself in the vortex of such a tempting opportunity, when someone immoral is attempting to seduce him, it is very difficult for him to master his willpower and become an example of chastity; refusing temptation by exclaiming as Prophet Joseph, peace be upon him, did: “God forbid!” (Yusuf 12:23), and thus taking a clear stance against that temptation. In such situations where one is pushed toward negative things, it truly takes a willpower of steel to stand perfectly upright with the soundness of a mountain without being shaken at all. Undoubtedly, the reward for a person who withstands such temptation will be as great in the same degree.

During the caliphate of Umar ibn al-Khattab, may God be pleased with him, a seductive woman laid her eyes on a handsome young man and set a trap for him. One day, she somehow managed to make him take one step in through her door. However, the young man found himself reciting the verse with the following meaning: “Those who keep from disobedience to God in reverence for Him and piety: when a suggestion from Satan touches them—they are alert and remember God, and then they have clear discernment” (al-A’raf 7:201). Upon this, the young man’s heart stopped and he passed away right there. The Companions did not wish to inform the caliph about it; they took the body, which was found in front of that immoral woman’s house, and buried him quietly. On realizing the absence of this devout youth, who would normally take his place in the first rank of the Prayers, Umar ibn al-Khattab asked where he was. The Companions told him about the situation. After this, the caliph ran to the grave of the young man and recited the verse meaning, “But for him who lives in awe of his Lord and of the standing before his Lord (in the Hereafter), there will be two Gardens…” (al-Rahman 55:46) in address to him. It is reported that a voice from the grave replied with the following words: “O leader of the believers! I have been granted twice more than that.”

Speaking up for truth when this is difficult

He explained the final good deed he thought to be difficult as “speaking out against another whom one fears or from whom one expects some benefit.” In situations where one fears someone or is promised some benefits by them, if a person cannot be morally upright and speak up for truth but instead agrees to engage in a deal, then the holders of power virtually shackle him and bring him under total control. They then make him do everything they want. As it can be seen in different circles in our time, fear is a factor that restrains, paralyzes and totally disables a person while running on the righteous path. Likewise, cherishing expectations of certain benefits puts a person in the position of a “mute devil” who cannot speak out against oppressive rulers. It causes that person to knowingly distort realities, speak wrongly and commit wrongs. As we witness its very bitter examples, so many people today are saying just the opposite of what they said yesterday because of certain opportunities laid before them, some expectation they cherish, or due to being paralyzed by fear and anxiety. Like a chameleon, they change from one hue to another with the changing conditions and thus—may God protect—they commit successive wrongs in a way that will ruin their life in both worlds. By means of different engagements of benefits, they virtually live like slaves and cannot manage to break free. So it is true heroism to speak up for truth during a time when fear and benefits prevail. Such a heroic act will surely be rewarded accordingly in the next world.

In short, rewards for deeds will differ according to the time and conditions in which they were realized. However, one point should not be missed here. Receiving a much greater reward for having fulfilled a difficult deed depends on keeping the sincerity of intention and not making any overt or covert complaints. In other words, in order to gain a greater reward in accordance with the difficulty of a certain deed, one must not complain about the difficulties. One should show patience against all odds, not dare to criticize Divine destiny and fulfill that deed in a willing and voluntary fashion.

Note

[1] Sahih al-Bukhari, Zakah, 16; Sahih Muslim, Zakah, 91.

One morning, an office friend gets my attention and asks, “Have I (ever) given you this book?”

The face on the well-designed cover is familiar. It is that of a thoughtful Fethullah Gülen. My mind flies to Turkey, Gülen’s home country, and then to the state of Pennsylvania, where Gülen has been living since 1999. Gülen’s thoughts are for his homeland, who’s democratic backsliding has led to so much grief and suffering.

The title, “No return from Democracy,” is worth chewing on. With all the endless definitions and consequent divergent practices of democracy, which country on earth can claim to have been there? What kind of democracy? There are many different forms. Since when has democracy been a destination, so that pilgrims can talk of coming back? Isn’t democracy a country’s tool for achieving a certain level of freedom and perfection rather than a purpose?

The sub-title, “A survey of interviews with Fethullah Gülen,” leaves me hanging. It forces me to take refuge to the back page. The “avant-garde” French touch referring to Fethullah Gülen’s ideas turns into a real kicker. It renders it difficult to resist digging deeper into this man’s imprint on Turkey’s affairs and beyond, as well as his multi-dimensional scholarly, religious, and ethical life.

Who is Fethullah Gülen and why is he so concerned with democracy? To begin with, why should any of us be concerned with democracy?

From the back cover I get the impression of an archive rather than the mentioned survey of Gülen’s scholarly thoughts and engraved faith and ethical views setting a positive democratization formula for our times and future political systems. If I were asked to name two major aspects that affect the world most today, I would point at democracy and climate change. The democratic world and the climate are in mortal danger as humanity turns its back to solidarity, mutual assistance, and generosity and instead engages in bloody, destructive wars and violence.

Now what makes it worse is that some perpetrators of violence – whether individuals or groups – claim to be working in God’s interests, even though their atrocities contradict the very purpose of His creation.  Examples of such violence abound.   

Forgetting our duty towards God, our neighbors, and even our very selves has led rare people like Fethullah Gülen to emerge in the hopes of putting the world back on track. Their job is three-fold. First, they must make society (individual members or groups) aware of the fact that there is no such thing as violence for God’s sake. Second, these people stress that the religion of the perpetrators has nothing to do with crime. It is not a vice to be a Muslim just as it is not a virtue to be a Christian. Third, these rare people are teaching that spiritual values also apply to those who choose to accede to political powers.

In this regard, “No return from democracy” should be read carefully, understood and taken as a reference tool for those in search a truly democratic society, be it in Turkey or any other country. Eleven chapters and an appendix by Gülen himself condemning the coup attempt and denouncing terrorism send a clear and unequivocal message to the world; namely, that “A Muslim cannot be a terrorist and a terrorist cannot be a Muslim. A person cannot go to heaven by killing a person.”

In consonance with the letter and spirit of the book, the lead chapter responds to fundamental and thought provoking questions like, “Can Islam and democracy be reconciled? Can a Muslim also be a democrat? Can Muslims fully practice their religion in a democratic order? What kind of regime does Islam envisage? Does a theocratic regime exist in Islam? What is meant by an Islamic order?”

Gülen laments (p. 12), “… it is painful to see how those who speak on Islam and democracy and claim to pronounce in the name of religion have come to the understanding that Islam and democracy cannot be reconciled…” He argues this is wrong because it is built on a superficial comparison that “Islam is based on the rule of God, while democracy is the view of humans…”  He observes that on the contrary the true picture is one of “sovereignty (being) taken from individual oppressors and dictators and given to community members.” He cites “the era of the Rightly-Guided Caliphs of Islam” as “the application of this democratic norm of democracy” (quoted in The Muslim World, July 2005 Edition).

Accepting that there is no conflict between Islam and democracy, should we take such basic attainments as pluralism and human rights as having been invented in the West, or can they be accepted as universal values? Have they been applied in Muslim societies? In other words, is Islam conducive to democracy?

Gülen confidently asserts yes (p. 13): “None of these values (have) emerged only in the West and in modern times.” And for that matter, “we see that in its process of development, democracy has many different applications and that it has undergone many modifications and revisions.” He cites an assortment of prefixes of democracy like social, liberal, Christian, etc. “In some cases,” he says, “even one of these forms … may not consider the other as democracy.”

He goes on to reveal (p. 13, 14) “the principles and form of government that form the basis of democracy are compatible with Islamic values. Consultation, justice, freedom of religion, protection of the rights of individuals and minorities, the people’s say in the election of those who will govern them and the latter being held accountable for their actions, and prevention of the oppression of the majority or minority, can be cited as examples of the values and principles espoused by both Islam and democracy” (quoted in Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung, December 6, 2012).

In an interview with Ashrq Al-Awsat on March 24, 2014, Gülen pointed out (p. 17) “we sadly observe that in countries where democracy is demonized, human violations, moral and legal turmoil, and religious and ethnic disputes and conflicts abound. Currently, democracy is evolving to become a common asset and custom, as it were, of the entire human race…”

Gülen tackles this issue very broadly across many years and in a wide range of media outlets, including: Le Monde (April 28, 1998); Zaman (March 24, 2004); the New York Times (June 11, 2010); TRT, Turkish Radio and Television (June 2, 1995); NTV (February 27, 1998); Kanal D Television (April 16, 1997); and the Financial Times, as well as interviews with individual journalists.

The gist of all his conversations is that “democracy is a rule by the people. It is a profound form of ‘republic.’ It is (the republic’s) soul; it is the more humane dimension of it. For this reason, in a sense … it always existed in the past, although it was not named.”

He continued, saying (p. 21):

“We can even talk about a republic and the existence of a democracy without a name during the era of the Rightly Guided Caliphs. …Maybe between the systems there is an overlap. It is possible to reconcile them. For this reason, it could be thought that a republic and democracy might make a proper ground for Islam, Islamic thought, and the possibility of practicing Islam. Considering them as against Islam, in my opinion, is a wrong interpretation, a wrong approach…” 

No Return from Democracy is an archive of Gülen’s unflinching insistence on taking the path of democracy and focusing on dialogue and coexistence. Throughout the chapter on dialogue and coexistence, Gülen is at his best when presenting tolerance, dialogue, and conciliation as the antidotes to violence. He demonstrates his level of exposure when he borrows a word from Socrates (470-399 BC) by emphasizing that “those who wish to reform the world must first reform themselves.”

Like Gülen, we should never lose hope “because problems can be solved with time” and we “should not try to find fault with religion because it does not allow for conflict…At the core of all this is being respectful to different ideas…and accepting people as they are, no matter what they believe in and what philosophy or ideology they pursue” (New York Times, 2010, and Asharq Al-Awsat, 2014).

No Return from Democracy: A Survey of Interviews with Fethullah Gülen
By Faruk Mercan
Blue Dome Press
2017 pp. 240
9781682060179

Magnetic wire could allow early cancer detection

Vermesh O. et al. An intravascular magnetic wire for the high-throughput retrieval of circulating tumor cells in vivo. Nature Biomedical Engineering July 2018

A new study showed that a magnetic wire can be used to detect hard-to-capture tumor cells, which might potentially become an effective way for early cancer detection. The wire, threaded into a vein, works through attracting special magnetic nanoparticles engineered to stick onto roaming tumor cells in the bloodstream. Circulating cancerous cells that have broken off the tumor can serve as cancer biomarkers. One major hurdle in the cancer field is that circulating tumor cells are often very scarce in the bloodstream, and it is almost impossible to catch them in few milliliters of blood samples. The new magnetic wire is the length of a pinky finger and the thickness of a paperclip.  It requires circulating tumor cells to be effectively magnetized with nanoparticles containing a specific antibody that binds to the circulating tumor cells. Once the floating tumor cell and nanoparticle are hitched, cell-magnet complexes in the bloodstream stick to the wire. Then, the wire is removed from the vein, and the cells are stripped for analysis. The technique has only been used in pigs so far, attracts from 10-80 times more tumor cells in a 5-milliliter blood sample than current blood-based cancer-detection methods. This technique could also be used to gather genetic information about tumors located in hard-to-biopsy places or to provide information about the efficacy of cancer treatments. Perhaps one day the magnetic wire may even stand to evolve into a form of treatment, capable of grabbing the cancer cells and preventing them from spreading to other parts of the body. So far, researchers have not found any signs of toxicity with the nanoparticles. Once the technology is approved for humans, the goal is to develop it into a multi-pronged tool that will boost detection, diagnosis, treatment, and evaluation of cancer therapy.

Robots can collectively plan for future

Garattoni L. et al. Autonomous task sequencing in a robot swarm. Science Robotics, July 2018.

Robots are currently able to communicate and coordinate in order to make decisions and carry out simple tasks. But could robots in the future carry out missions that require them to determine which tasks to perform and in what order to perform them? For example, could robots soon save the survivors of a natural disaster? The ability to plan ahead in challenging times is a complex cognitive skill, and it typically emerges from the interactions between the individuals in a group. A new study provides evidence that robots can also collectively decide in what order they should complete their tasks in a group. The researchers have based their study on swarm robotics, a branch of robotics that applies the organized behavior of social animals such as ants in order to produce groups of robots that exhibit artificial intelligence. In this study, they have developed a swarm of robots that can perform a sequence of three actions, without knowing the correct order in advance. During the test, the robots were required to move to three different points in space, where they were to perform a simple task. Only after the tasks were completed would the robots learn whether the order was correct. To solve this problem, some of the robots gradually formed a chain between the three points in space, which the others used as a guide as they tested the various possible combinations by following instructions from the robots who made up the chain. Eventually, they determined the correct sequence by working together. This study demonstrates, for the first time, that robots are able to collectively determine a sequence of actions whose required order was previously unknown. This research paves the road to a number of future applications involving missions in which the ability to autonomously determine the order in which tasks should be completed are needed, such as searching for survivors after a natural disaster, exploring unknown or hostile environments, building structures on dangerous sites, and various applications in agriculture.

Hang that phone up now! Mobile phone radiation impairs memory

Foerster M. et al. A prospective cohort study of adolescents’ memory performance and individual brain dose of microwave radiation from wireless communication. Environmental Health Perspectives, July 2018.

A new study involving nearly 700 adolescents showed that the frequent use of mobile phones can lead to deterioration of memory performance of specific brain regions due to exposure to radiofrequency electromagnetic fields (RF-EMF) during mobile phone use. The dazzling growth of information and communication technologies brings a dramatic increase in exposure to RF-EMF in our daily life. Several studies have been conducted to identify potential health effects related to RF-EMF, though results have remained inconclusive. Researchers studied 700 adolescents between the ages of 12 and 17 and looked at the link between their daily exposure to RF-EMF and memory performances over the course of one year. The researchers found that cumulative RF-EMF brain exposure from mobile phone use may have a negative effect on the development of figural memory performance. Figural memory, the ability to recall shapes, is mainly mediated by the right brain hemisphere and association of negative effects with RF-EMF was more pronounced in adolescents who used the mobile phone on the right side of the head. This observation suggested that RF-EMF absorbed by the brain is likely responsible for the observed associations. Other aspects of wireless communication, such as texts, playing games, or internet browsing will also cause marginal RF-EMF exposure. However, these were not found to be associated with the negative development of memory. The potential effect of RF-EMF exposure to the brain is a relatively new field and it is not yet clear how RF-EMF could potentially affect brain processes or how relevant the findings are in the long-term. To minimize the potential risks to the brain, experts recommend using headphones or the loud speaker while calling, in particular when network quality is low and the mobile phone is functioning at maximum power.

Discovery

In 1963, a team of American and Turkish archeologists surveyed Southeast Turkey, looking for sites of archeological importance. Eight miles from the city of Sanliurfa, they climbed a hill called Göbekli Tepe. They found tools from the Stone Age in the nearby area, and they found carved slabs of stone on the hill itself. Team member Peter Benedict decided it was a long lost Byzantine cemetery and not of great interest. He was very wrong.

It wasn’t until 1994 that the hill was visited again by an archeologist. Prof. Klaus Schmidt looked more carefully than Benedict. He recognized the stone slabs as dating from the Neolithic era, (the Stone Age), about ten to twelve thousand years ago. Schmidt bought a home in Şanlıurfa and began to excavate Göbekli Tepe. It would be his all-consuming project until his death in 2014. He has described the find as a Stone Age sanctuary – a temple. I believe Göbekli Tepe was a major step in the evolution of religion, and the human connection with God. It marks the beginning of civilization, and might be the root of the world’s three great monotheistic religions.

The underground secret

What Schmidt found was a vast collection of stone structures built by Stone Age hunter-gatherers. The construction started about 12,000 years ago and it continued for approximately 2,000 years. There are a total of 20 structures that have been discovered by underground radar. A typical structure consists of a circle of standing pillars built from stones up to 20 feet (6 m) tall and weighing about 20 tons (18,000 kilograms). Each circle is about 30 feet in diameter. One circle has 12 stones spaced around its perimeter and two stones in the middle. Only a few of these circles have been excavated so far, and the site is already massive.

Every circle has two massive T-shaped pillars at the center of the circle. Piled up stones serve as a wall to make this circle an enclosure. Smaller pillars surround the area. Some think these T-shaped pillars once held up a roof of thatching or other material. Others believe they symbolize humans. Most of the pillar carvings are of animals. It is rare to find one which is anthropomorphic, or in the shape of a human. The anthropomorphic pillar in Figure 1 is an exception.

Why was this huge project built? One thing is clear to the excavators—this site was not a place to live. There is no sign of food storage or farming, and it has no material purpose. Its mission was purely a religious one. Schmidt declared it is the oldest known structure built as a temple.

The time line

This amazing complex was built by Stone Age nomads. The oldest portion was finished about 11,000 years ago (9000 BCE).

The Ice Age was just coming to an end. The occupants of what is now Anatolia, Eastern Turkey, were hunter-gatherers. The population was beginning to surge in this area, known today as the Fertile Crescent.

The people may have lived in an encampment for part of the year, but they were fundamentally nomads. They roamed the area gathering fruits, vegetables, and wild grains. They hunted the local animals and knew about their seasonal migrations. It is thought that they did not have pottery, and the wheel was yet to be invented. This era is called Pre Pottery Neolithic Period A (PPNA). Archeologists think these people did not have agriculture. Their unit was a clan or an extended family – a small group of perhaps a dozen or two dozen people – who lived and hunted together. 

What did the builders have to work with at that time? Very little. They had tools made of stone, flint, wood, and bone. These people had almost nothing of technology as we think of it today. They did not use metal of any kind. Writing and the wheel were still thousands of years in the future. Yet the people at Göbekli Tepe somehow figured out how to hew a huge rectangular piece of stone out of a solid mountain of rock and shape it into pillars.

These pillars each weighed as much as 20 tons and each was carved out of a solid block of granite. They were pried out and moved a few hundred feet (around 100 meters) using only wooden levers. The pillars were then erected vertically into a base that had been carved into the bedrock. Some researchers estimate this would have required many clans to come together – perhaps 500 people at a time – to both build and feed the builders. It was a project similar to building the pyramids of Egypt.

Why was Göbekli Tepe built?

What caused dozens of independent clans to come together and work as a team to build this elaborate structure, with no apparent material benefit? Where did their ideas of the shape and structure come from? It was not an innovation leading to better food or housing.

Researchers believe the small clans would gather periodically to find mates and to trade objects. Apparently, these groups began to build a sense of higher purpose; an inspiration; a call to do something without materialistic benefits. Researchers surmise they set out to build a beautiful structure for ritual purposes, for spiritual satisfaction. It was a motivation that transcended their everyday life. It was the beginning of a shared religion, a pull that we would later think of as a divine calling – the voice of God!  What they heard and what exactly they understood God to be calling them to do, we can only infer from the remains that we see, and how other civilizations developed. The clues we have are in the carvings and decorations that remain on the pillars at Göbekli Tepe.

Historians date the modern idea of a single God without physical body, as known by Judaism, Christianity, and Islam, to 3000 BCE. At Göbekli Tepe, most of the adornments are animals, with only a few suggesting the shape of humans. Some of the pillars are deeply carved, with three dimensional versions of animals.

Perhaps the religion of the people at Göbekli Tepe was an animistic one. Maybe they felt that every animal and plant had its own divine spark inside it. Were these carvings aspects of God in their eyes, perhaps some kind of protection from above? Perhaps the force from the other world is represented by a crocodile, a jaguar, or a leopard?

Maybe these animals were totems – symbols representing a clan or some other group of people. Carving these animals, the builders perhaps thought, may have indicated their presence in spirit.

Miracle of the beginning

Writing wasn’t invented until thousands of years after Göbekli Tepe, so we are left to imagine what visions, what religious beliefs, and what concepts of God inspired the people who made the temple; what led them to create this massive series of structures and these carved pillars.

No evidence has been found that anything similar to the massive works that comprise the temple at Göbekli Tepe were built at the same historical moment. The structures here precede the pyramids of Egypt and the stones of Stonehenge by thousands of years. Some unique shared experience or some mystical attraction motivated the clans to come together and to build it. Today, we would call this a religious belief.

Some theorize that there was a class of priests or shamans. This leader, or leadership group, might have had the leadership to convince hundreds of people to assemble every year at Göbekli Tepe and to work on their project. Guiding this construction project was not a small task, nor was it a simple one. It required dozens of clans to work together for centuries. It required more teams of people to supply the necessary food and supplies to equip the workers. It required skilled artists, stone masons, designers, and builders. Clearly, there was a series of people, or leaders, who had the inspiration to know what to build, and the ability to motivate many clans of nomads to work together to build it. The story of Moses and the building of the Tabernacle in the Bible might serve as an example.

The existence of Göbekli Tepe inverts the conventional theory of how all civilizations began. This theory posited that, as time passed, the hunter-gatherers began to domesticate crops and animals. As they did so, they spent more of their time in a fixed location. Clans grew into villages, and villages grew into towns. As populations grew, government emerged, and rituals began. These rituals, the theory holds, became religions, and religious facilities and sacral practices emerged. But Göbekli Tepe suggests that the reverse is true.

Some early religion, some Divine call, led to the early hunter-gatherers’ decision to begin building a ritual center. Lewis Mumford asserted that cities didn’t grow from villages; they grew from “holy sites,” which were visited again and again.  It was the shared divine call to Göbekli Tepe, argues Schmidt, that brought the clans and were the “gigantic driving forces” leading to civilization and then to the domestication of animals and the beginnings of agriculture in the Neolithic era.

Figure 1: An anthropomorphic pillar. © DAI Nico Becker. To some, this pillar suggests a human being with his hands folded across his abdomen. Is he wearing a loin cloth or apron, which might represent a priest officiating in a ritual?  Perhaps the intent is to remind the viewer of a sacred ritual.

Figure 2: The ancients seem to have used this 10-foot (3-meter) high pillar to tell a different story. The top row seems to be baskets. It includes a vulture and a disk. But the lower portion is often thought to be a scorpion or a spider. Perhaps it is a power symbol or a symbol of danger or death. Schmidt terms these Stone Age mythograms.

Figure 3: A representative deep carving of an other-worldly being. (Photo Dieter Johanes (c) Deutsches Archäologisches Institut. Used with permission.) What is this animal? Why was it significant enough for the Stone Age builders of Göbekli Tepe to carve it into the stone? Schmidt calls it an “otherworldly being.”

Hay and Su had been hungry for almost a week. Spring was in full bloom, and birds were chirping. Living in a cave was safer and warmer than outside, especially during the long winters. However, the food stock they had was almost finished. As the sun rose higher, the hunter-gatherer couple left their cave to find some food and hunt some animals to cook with the fire they had recently invented. As they searched for some fruit in the forest, they heard wood cracking and then a sudden loud growl from the bushes. The grizzly bear started to chase them, and they ran away quickly. They successfully ran back to their safe cave; however, during the chase, a tree branch scratched and wounded Su’s shoulder and she was severely bleeding. Hay first applied some ash to the wound to stop the bleeding; then he went out to the cliff, a smoking branch in his hand. He tied his rope ladder to a tree and climbed down the cliff. Once he reached the bee’s nest, he gently waved his smoky branch to numb the honeybees and collected their honey, pouring it into a carved stone. Then he rushed back to the cave, covered Su’s open wound with honey, and fed her the leftovers. The wound was closed within a couple of days without any significant inflammation, infection, or scar. Then Su and Hay carved their adventure into the wall of their cave, which is located in today’s Valencia, Spain, and was recently discovered by anthropologists – a mere 8000 years later.

Honey is a viscous, supersaturated sugar solution derived from nectar and honeydew. It’s gathered from flowers and modified by the honeybee, Apis mellifera. Honey is composed of more than 200 components, which are mostly carbohydrates (76%) and water (20%), as well as many other substances, such as amino acids, vitamins, minerals, organic acids, polyphenols, and enzymes. From ancient times, due to its high biological activity potential, honey has been used in wound care, infection control, and treatment of abdominal pains and skin and eye diseases. Thus, it was frequently mentioned in the early pharmacopeia of the Sumerians, Babylonians, Egyptians, Greeks, Romans, Indians, Chinese, Turks, Arabs, and other civilizations.

For the last two decades, scientists and healthcare professionals have studied the potential uses and benefits of honey. Cell assays, animal studies, and clinical trials have provided evidence for the use of medical grade honey in the control and treatment of wounds, cancer, diabetes, and asthma, as well as cardiovascular, neurological, and gastrointestinal diseases.

Medical grade honeys possess high bioactivity potential, which differs depending on the floral source, geographical origin, and harvest time. Worldwide, the most common honey types used for medical purposes are Manuka, Tualang, Gelam, Ulmo, Castanea (chestnut), Rhododendron (Azalea), Quercus (Oak), Acacia, Thyme, and Jungle.

Honey in wound treatment

A wound is, broadly, the destruction of the integrity of tissue, which may also include neighboring areas. This destruction can be either penetrating or non-penetrating, and induced by accidents, surgeries, or violence (Martinotti et al). Depending on the healing time, wounds are classified as acute or chronic. Generally acute wounds heal in a short and predicted amount of time without major complications. The chronic wounds take much longer to heal and present different complications such as infection, contamination of the wound bed, or ischemia, the limited supply of blood that carries oxygen and nutrients to the wounded tissue. The chronic wounds are also known as ulcers and can be grouped as pressure (bed sores), diabetic, venous, and arterial ulcers, which mostly result from chronic medical illnesses such as diabetes, atherosclerosis, thrombosis, paralysis, etc. (woundcarecenters.org). The process of wound healing is generally divided into four overlapping stages: homeostasis (seconds to minutes), inflammation (3-5 days), proliferation (4-14 days), and remodeling (8 days to 1 year) (Miguel 2017).

Different clinical trials and in vitro studies have reported the broad-spectrum antimicrobial properties of honey (Israili 2014). Moreover, honey provides hygroscopic, immunostimulatory, anti-inflammatory, and anti-oxidant properties, which are necessary for the healing of both infected and ischemic chronic wounds. Therefore, medical grade honey promotes the immune response, treats microbial infections, prevents cross-contamination, promotes autolytic debridement, balances inflammatory activity, stimulates growth of wounded tissue to hasten healing, and promotes the healing process in chronic wounds (Miguel 2017).

In a recent Cochrane review, which is considered as the highest standard in evidence-based clinical resources, Jull AB et. al. reviewed the evidence about the healing effects when applying honey on different kinds of wounds (Jull 2015). They analyzed 26 different clinical studies involving 3011 people with acute (e.g. burns, lacerations) and/or chronic (e.g. venous ulcers) wounds. Honey was compared with many alternative wound dressings and topical treatments in the included studies. They concluded that there is high quality evidence that honey heals partial thickness burns around 4 to 5 days more quickly than conventional dressings. There is also reasonable evidence that honey is more effective than antiseptic gauze for healing infected wounds (Jull 2015).

As a particular example, Yusoff KM and his colleagues treated 102 patients with untreatable chronic wounds with honey as a last resort. Most of these wounds were infected with pathogenic bacteria of 14 different strains, and two of them were antibiotic-resistant bacteria, which could not be treated using conventional antibiotics. Of the 102 patients, 100% of them were successfully cured with topical application of honey within 4 to 7 weeks of daily treatment. Moreover, limbs of the diabetic wound patients were saved from amputation after their ulcers were healed (Figure 1). 

Meanwhile, studies on different animal models provided evidence that honey accelerates wound healing in animals. Fifteen of the 16 controlled trials in five different animal models (mice, rats, rabbits, pigs, and buffalo calves) found that honey-treated incisional and excisional wounds, and that standard burns healed faster than control wounds (Jull 2015). 

Consequently, existing evidence from animal studies and clinical trials strongly suggests that medical grade honey has the potential to treat various types of wounds without causing any serious side effects.

Honey in cancer

Cancer is uncontrolled cell growth within a certain tissue or throughout the body due to mutations in the genome. As one of the major causes of death worldwide, more than 8.8 million deaths were reported in relation to cancer in 2015 (WHO). Meanwhile, cancer is not a disease occurring in one cell type only; there are more than 100 cancer types identified to date (cancer.gov). Both the genetic and environmental factors contribute to the development of cancer in different cells. There are three major steps when cancer attacks the body: initiation, proliferation, and progression. The normal cell transforms into a cancer cell due to an irreversible mutation within its genome; then it starts to replicate in an uncontrollable manner and forms a tumor mass; finally, these mutated cells invade the bloodstream and metastasize to different tissues within the body. Despite extensive research projects devoted to diagnosing and treating cancer, it remains as one of the least treatable diseases.

Conventional treatments for cancer are surgery, chemotherapy, radiotherapy, immunotherapy, and cellular therapy. Meanwhile, natural products with high anticancer potential are also being considered for research and treatment as complementary and integrative medicine (CIM) agents. Due to limitations of conventional methods, such as affordability and side effects, and promising evidence-based results of various CIM approaches, physicians and patients are getting more interested in CIM applications for the treatment of various cancer types.

Among the CIM agents, medical grade honey is one of the most promising natural products for treatment of some cancers due to its high bioactivity potential. Scientists studied the capacity of honey to both prevent tumor development and inhibit progression. Most of these studies were performed in vitro, using cell cultures in the lab. When tested on several types of human cancer cell lines (breast, prostate, liver, endometrial, cervical, lung, skin, kidney, bladder, oral squamous cell carcinoma, and osteosarcoma), honeys from diverse floral sources demonstrated potential anticancer activity (Ahmed S 2018, Erejuwa 2014). Moreover, several studies showed that different cancers, in animal models, were successfully treated with honey (Ahmed S 2018). It has been shown that honey provides antiproliferative, antitumor, antimetastatic, and anticancer effects via diverse mechanisms, including cell cycle arrest, the activation of mitochondrial pathways, induction of apoptosis, modulation of oxidative stress, amelioration of inflammation, modulation of insulin signaling, and inhibition of angiogenesis in cancer cells. It has also been shown that honey is highly and selectively cytotoxic against tumor or cancer cells while it is non-cytotoxic to normal cells. It can inhibit cancer development by modulating or interfering with the molecular processes or events of initiation, proliferation, and progression (Erejuwa 2014). In the PubMed, the largest database of biomedical research articles, there are almost 400 research papers and review articles published about the use of honey in cancer treatment. Moreover, there are more than 15 active clinical trials using honey for treatment of cancer and side effects of chemotherapy (Clinicaltrials.gov). Consequently, medical grade honey can be considered as a potential and promising anticancer agent which warrants further research—both in experimental and clinical studies.

Besides wound healing and cancer, honey is being actively studied for treatment of diabetes, neurological, cardiovascular, and metabolic disorders, as well as eye diseases.

REFERENCES

1. Jull AB, Cullum N, Dumville JC, Westby MJ, Deshpande S, Walker N. Honey as a topical treatment for wounds. Cochrane Database Syst Rev. 2015; 3:CD005083.
2. Martinotti S.; Ranzato, E. Honey’s healing history. In Cellular and Molecular Mechanisms of Honey Wound Healing; Nova Publishers Inc.: Hauppauge, NY, USA, 2014
3. Ahmed S, Sulaiman SA, Baig AA, Ibrahim M, Liaqat S, Fatima S, Jabeen S, Shamim N, Othman NH. Honey as a Potential Natural Antioxidant Medicine: An Insight into Its Molecular Mechanisms of Action. Oxid Med Cell Longev. 2018 Jan 18. doi: 10.1155/2018/8367846.
4. Israili ZH. “Antimicrobial properties of honey,” American Journal of Therapeutics, vol. 21, no. 4, pp. 304–323, 2014.
5. Miguel MG, Antunes MD, and Faleiro ML. Honey as a Complementary Medicine. Integrative Medicine Insights 2017 Volume 12: 1–15. DOI: 10.1177/1178633717702869
6. Cutting KF. Honey and contemporary wound care: An overview. Ostomy/Wound Management 2007 Vol 53 (11): 49-54.
7. Yusoff KM, Akka ZS, Suhaimi A, Ali MRM, Yusoff MYM. The Efficacy of Honey Dressing on Chronic Wound and Ulcers. Honey: Current Research and Clinical Applications” published by NOVA Science Publishers, USA. 2012
8. https://www.woundcarecenters.org/article/wound-basics/different-types-of-wounds – accessed 6/17/2018
9. Oryan A, Alemzadeh E, Moshiri A. Biological Properties and Therapeutic Activities of Honey in Wound Healing: A narrative review and meta-analysis. 2016 Journal of tissue viability. 25. 10.1016/j.jtv.2015.12.002.
10. World Health Organization (WHO). http://www.who.int/cancer/en/ – accessed 6/17/2018
11. National Cancer Institute (NCI) https://www.cancer.gov/about-cancer/understanding/what-is-cancer#types – accessed 6/17/2018
12. Erejuwa OO, Suleiman SA, Ab Wahab MS. Effects of Honey and Its Mechanisms of Action on the Development and Progression of Cancer. Molecules 2014, 19(2), 2497-2522; https://doi.org/10.3390/molecules19022497
13. Ahmed S and Othman NH. Honey as a Potential Natural Anticancer Agent: Review of Its Mechanisms. Evidence-Based Complementary and Alternative Medicine Volume 2013. http://dx.doi.org/10.1155/2013/829070
14. https://clinicaltrials.gov – accessed on 6/18/2018

 {module Honey Pictures}

After watching my father battle a severe mental illness, threaten my family members, and assault a family friend, I called the police on him. It was 11 p.m., the night before Easter.

Though most of the members of my family had restraining orders against my father, they all went to bed afraid he might show up on their doorsteps and make good on the threats he had sent in text messages, voicemails, and emails.

After he gave away enough of his location that I knew where he was, I made the decision mechanically. I can get him arrested, I thought. I didn’t stop to think much about whether I should.

Five months prior, my father lived a healthy, normal life in Wyoming with his wife and eight-year-old son. He ran a very profitable business. My husband and I regularly visited for the holidays. We exchanged gifts and spent the day feasting, like any other family.

But my father, tired of being medicated and living peacefully, relapsed on heroin during a trip to Mexico – a trip I’m not sure he ever fully came back from. Landing in Newport, Oregon, he invited me to visit the aquarium with him since I lived only two hours away. I went.

When I arrived, he was barefoot outside on the porch in January, and there was blood all over the floor from a fistfight my father had started with an elderly travel companion. My father was delirious, singing along to a Prince song. He’d recorded his own “cover” on his cellphone.  

He demanded I take him to the emergency room because he was in so much pain. Not knowing what had happened, I followed his instructions, driving breakneck speeds down the coastal highway to the nearest hospital. He had no insurance.

In the waiting room, he yelled and screamed and swore at every nurse who tried to help him. He yelled, “I’m going to die! I’m going to die! Just kill me now! Make it stop!”

Turning to me, he whispered, “You could do it, couldn’t you? You could send me off in a way that doesn’t hurt? Please?”

Later, on the phone with my husband after my father attempted to sleep off the tooth infection the doctor had given him pain medication for, I asked if he would stay on the phone with me just so I didn’t have to cry alone.

I spent a week with my father. I spent a week translating for him, managing his business accounts, keeping track of his schedule of medications. I did my best to discourage him from drinking so the antibiotics would work, though he drank full fifths of liquor behind my back.

When he became violent with me while we were driving to John Day, Oregon, the city where I lived as a baby, I ran away. Because there were no rental cars nearby, I rented a U-haul and drove myself back to Portland before he saw me the next morning. If it weren’t true, it might have been funny.

Upon returning to my husband, I collapsed on the floor. I said, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” and I wasn’t sure whether I was apologizing to him or to myself. I sprawled out and cried.

As my husband held me there on the floor, I asked, “Do you think less of me now? Now that you know where I break?”

After a moment of thought, he replied, “No. Strength is not about where you break. It’s about how you handle yourself when you’re broken.”

I’ll never forget that. I’ll never forget that, in the moment when I thought I had failed and had abandoned both my father and my compassion, my husband still admired the way I handled myself.

Those words remade me. In light of them, I pulled myself off the floor and did what I could. I resumed my routines. That was all I could manage right then.

Shortly after I called the police on my father, who had continued to spiral out of control, I volunteered with a friend to build a production garden for low-income families. While there, I overheard some of the people in the organization talk about building gardens in correctional facilities. Intrigued, I applied to be a volunteer in that branch of Growing Gardens. If I couldn’t directly help my father, incarcerated in Fort Collins and later extradited to Wyoming, then I could at least help people like him.

On my first day of volunteer training, I walked up to the tall, barbed wire fence of the all-male prison and questioned my own judgement. I had signed my life and safety away and had numerous conversations about the risks I was undertaking. Still, I walked through those double-gated doors.

That first day, with the help of 10 inmates, we planted 108 tomato plants. When I came back the following week, we harvested three full buckets of fresh lettuce. One inmate in a wheelchair used a burlap sack to transport himself down the rows to plant carrots and chard.

I turned to the nearest inmate and said, “You know, I have not once been treated poorly here. I’ve never been disrespected.” And it was true. The worst comment I ever received in the prison had actually been from an officer. Still, I had received worse treatment walking down the street than I ever did inside the prison.

“Well, yeah,” the inmate said. “We’re scoundrels, not monsters.”

In the months that followed, despite everything, I still had compassion for my father. I didn’t blame him.

One of my friends asked, “I wonder when your capacity for forgiving him will run out.”

I told him, “If I had a brain tumor that changed how I acted, would you hate me? Would it be my fault?”

“Of course not.”

“Then I can’t blame my father. His mental illness is not his fault.”

The State of Wyoming sent my father to the state mental hospital for an evaluation, and in six months, he was out on bail. He called me on my birthday. Though it crossed my mind that I could stop volunteering at the correctional facility, I kept going. It had become therapeutic for me.

I kept learning how to garden and how to interact with the inmates. I learned how to add nuance to my language when I talked about them. I learned how to grow plants from seed and eat produce covered in dirt straight out of the garden alongside the inmates.

Now, I passionately believe that the prison system represents a crossroads in our society where issues of mental illness, poverty, addiction, desperation, and race intersect. The prison system might be the best way to tackle these complex issues. By examining the legal and criminal justice systems, we can analyze the ways our society criminalizes poverty. We can think critically about mental health and drug rehabilitation solutions.

When I came to the correctional facility for the fingerprinting necessary to receive my volunteer badge after six months of training, I met a volunteer from a different program. He was a black man who had been incarcerated in that very prison just a year prior. After seeing the inside of the system, he vowed to change it from the inside out once his sentence was up. In just a year, he had become a drug and alcohol rehabilitation counselor who met personally with inmates to create programs for them and get them into self-sustaining communities and halfway houses once they had served their time. Rather than wallow in self-pity or blame himself for whatever he had done, he picked himself up and handled himself while he was broken. And he did so in a way that helped people in the same position.

My mom says, “Picking yourself up is what makes the difference between a victim and a survivor.”

Though I had gone through trauma after trauma after trauma with my father and even had to testify in court against him while he was present, I kept picking myself back up. I did what I could, and then, when I was ready, I gave back to my community.

I still volunteer in the correctional facility and am working toward creating community garden programs in my neighborhood while I prepare for graduate school. My father is still facing trials for what he did, but I believe he is now on the road to recovery.

Sometimes, disaster hits. Maybe you lose your job or you fail a class or a family member commits a terrible crime. Maybe you lose your home or you have a chronic illness or you escape an abusive relationship. These are the times when we, as humans, break. But it’s okay. You pick yourself up. You go through the motions. You handle yourself while you’re broken.

80 miles. 80 long, traffic-filled miles ahead of me. Breathe. Yes. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. This isn’t working.

The call that I have been dreading for over ten years has come. “Andrew is dying. We don’t know how much longer he has. Get here as quickly as you can.”

Was it my mother or my sister-in-law’s voice that I heard over the phone?

I am at the wrong end of the Long Island Expressway and my brother, my only sibling and dearest friend, is losing his long, hard-fought battle with non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma.

What am I doing here in the “wrong” place?

I have to do something, what is it? Yes, I have to call Matt and Linda, my son and his wife. 

“Matt, this is mom, Andrew is dying. If you want to say ‘good-bye,’ now would be a good time to go to the hospital. Can I ask you a huge favor? I know that you are the only one who knows whether the baby (due any time now) is a boy or a girl…would you tell me so that I can let Andrew know?”

Of course, he tells me. Naomi will be the newest family member.

The traffic is not moving. I’m calling Martha. My sister-in-law will be able to hold the phone up to Andrew’s ear so I can tell him about Naomi.

He hears the news and I tell him that I’ll be there as fast as I can… “Please wait a bit longer?” I plead.

At last, Memorial Sloan Kettering is up ahead. 

The car is parked, I’m running up the escalator and no one gives me a second look even though my face is streaked with dirt from the barn and tears are streaming down my face.

I’m at the door in the isolation unit. Nurses are standing there helping us with gowns and masks. A few of them have tears in their eyes. 

Matt arrives with Linda. She has finished medical school classes for the day and is now suiting up. No, she shouldn’t be doing that. Naomi is due. But she’s going to be a doctor; surely, she knows what she’s doing.

We go in one at a time. Andrew has no voice, but his eyes are talking. He knows what’s going on and he whispers to each of us.

Our California cousins are en-route to New York. Please, please wait for them. Richard is his best friend, and Barbi has bags filled with rose petals from her garden.

We wait. We talk. We cry. The transplant team arrives. They are talking softly to Andrew. The lead doctor is telling me that I gave Andrew perfectly matched stem cells.  He does not have cancer. Does it matter now?

Hours pass.

My cell phone is ringing. Who in the world would call me here? Now? 

It’s Matt. Linda is having the baby. Now.

It should be a moment of joy. Why can’t I feel anything?

I’m back in a car. It’s a cab and we’re speeding across town.

Naomi, Naomi, your Nana is coming.

I arrive after she’s born. Linda’s had a c-section, and her mother looks so happy. My ex-husband is grinning, and Matt is in another world. 

I’m holding Naomi and the tears won’t stop. Am I happy or am I sad? Does it matter?

How long can I stay here? I have to go back across town. 

Andrew waits for Richard and Barbi. The rose petals surround him and he’s fading slowly. No one is wearing a mask. We are holding one another up. 

Andrew dies.

I’m waiting for the fairy tale ending. 

It seems that if there is a God, he or she or it, has more in store for us. 

***

There’s something wrong with Naomi. 

Linda knows. It’s swath-pattern hemangioma. 

She’s not even a year old. Months of drugs, labored breathing and finally emergency surgery… But at last, we can rest easy.

Naomi is magical. She doesn’t know yet that she’ll need laser and cosmetic surgery.  Right now, she’s just like all the other little girls. Only she owns my heart.

Is the fairy tale going to start now? No.

One year and one day after Andrew died and Naomi was born, my father dies. 

He had Alzheimer’s. He was home, and he knew who all of us were. 

Instead of saying “I don’t know,” to questions that the research team at Columbia asked him, he figured out how to count backwards by 7 from 100 (subtract 10 and then add 3 to the new number). 

My dad was brilliant. He was brave. He was a gentleman. And he was gone.

I should have screamed. I should have cried. I should have collapsed. 

How many waves can you withstand before drowning?

Turns out that I didn’t drown. I have mourned in my own way and silently moved on.

Naomi now has a baby brother, Elijah.

The holes in my heart will never close but I see the world from a new perspective.

***

How easy it is to see what really counts in life. I understand what it means to “live in the moment.” Money and jobs and position and power pale in comparison to those who we love. 

So, love each other like there may be no tomorrow. Treasure every moment, every breath.  Look back but do it without bitterness and anger. 

80 miles was so far away but now it’s where I willingly go most days. There’s this horse, Gstaad, he lives out there, and he’s mine. I talk to him and he lets me bury my face in his fur on the tough days. It doesn’t get much better than that.

Trauma and memory being the strange things they are, a part of me will always be there. A part of me will always be frozen in time, still a young twentysomething with her heart in her throat on a Beirut summer night, that day in 2005, when the world – my world – ended.

This isn’t to say that it always gets in the way. On the better days, at least, I can ignore it and get on with life. Sometimes, blissfully, I can even forget it’s there. But whether I like it or not, the end of the world is part of me now. As long as I remain, it also will remain. It’s seeped into my pores and seared into my subconscious. And so I sit here, half a lifetime later, and struggle to describe the end of my world, the memory that I’ve come to regard as the demon that follows me.

The memory begins quietly enough. I remember the curtains drifting with the warm breeze in the open balcony doors. Nine floors up, Beirut was spread out in a majestically sweeping view below. It’s a glorious, noisy, haphazard mess, but in spite of everything, I still love it today. If Beirut can come back from wartime ruin, I used to muse, as I slogged to school on the tough days, then why not hang on for a little longer? So, with the city’s amazing comeback unfolding around me, I carried on.

There was something miraculous about those years. The civil war ended in 1990, and for the 15 years between then and the bloody summer of 2005, Beirut, and Lebanon as a whole, slowly returned from the brink. Cities are living things, and to see one come back from 15 years of civil war was breathtaking. Little by little, I witnessed bullet-scarred buildings cleared and reoccupied. Pipes and wires were re-laid, and the mortar holes cratering the pavement gradually vanished. Museums and houses of worship reopened. All of this happened not just in one place but everywhere, all at once. On a clear day, standing beside old sniper nests, in the city whose name remains synonymous with battle, a person could stand, look in all directions, and lose count of construction cranes. Natural disaster and war could not prevail forever, not here. As it had so many times before, Beirut was coming back.

By the time I left it for the first time in 2003, the city had grown on me. The distant spine of the Lebanon Mountains rising through the Beirut smog, with white-capped Mount Sannine at their peak, even made me misty-eyed, on my last morning before the flight back to the States.

Surely, I thought, I’d always have this.

Then unknown assassins killed the tycoon-turned-Prime Minister, Rafic al-Hariri, in early 2005. As the lynchpin of much of the city’s reconstruction and the country’s fragile political balance, his loss was fatal. The city’s rebirth slowed, and the country slid toward what seemed like inevitable civil unrest. There was a lot of dangerous talk that summer, and the first of what would be many assassinations began. People – either partisan leaders or cabinet ministers – were getting blown up or gunned down in the suburbs.

It was still unreal to a young twentysomething like me. I was still wandering those old streets, just as I always had, lost in the happy haze of the city I’d known and loved. Two years after going home to the States for college, I was back, visiting my parents and picking up right where I’d left off. And, I told myself, as I read the news of assassinated cabinet ministers and the rumblings of insurrection, this all had to be temporary. Surely cooler heads would prevail, and surely peace would return. In a city and country that had already endured 15 years of war, and even though some people still had their secret Kalashnikovs stashed under the desk, surely we’d all had enough of war. Like it had so often, Beirut would come back from this brink, too. It had to.

Yet my hopes were soon dashed, because soon after that, the world ended one warm July night.

If I close my eyes, I can still see the old tube TV, tuned to one of the national networks. The chief of national police, resplendent in his slate gray uniform, was in the middle of an interview. He spoke at length about the recent unrest to an impeccably dressed journalist. He’d placed police everywhere he could put them, he said, and the public need not fear further violence. All is safe, so rest easy.

The breeze through the open balcony doors shifted. I put my feet up on the end table. Maybe, I thought, it’d be okay after all. They can’t possibly get by this many police. The official carried on, and between my mother’s translation and my own limited Arabic, I strained to follow. Beyond the balcony, the bustling city’s lights shone against the night sky.

Then the world ended.

It isn’t that I hadn’t before seen explosions or heard guns. This wasn’t like anything I’d seen before. Something was terribly amiss, because there was a flash bright enough to cast the city in a moment of terrible daylight. I didn’t fully understand, but even then, I knew something was horrifically wrong.

The monstrous moment hung in the air, a long sickening eternity. For an instant, I caught some of the city’s ambient sounds. My father and brother, on the balcony just beyond the door, saw it head-on. Then I heard Dad say the three terrifying words, calmly and quietly and in seeming surrender.

Here it comes.

The building lurched against the sudden thunderous roar. The balcony doors rattled in their metal grooves. Then just as quickly, the thunder was gone. In a moment, I could hear the city again, but it wasn’t the same.

It would never be the same.

What once seemed to shine and shimmer like the fires of a rising phoenix was ash again, like the gray pall of smoldering cannon-smoke. Assassinations in the boondocks were one thing: we lived up the street from Parliament, and this was close enough that the balcony doors shook. The police chief was still talking, half an hour later, when he received word of what turned out to be a car bomb. “Don’t worry,” he said. “This isn’t a political bomb, it’s a personal one.”

Whether political or personal, a bomb is a bomb, and any distinction is cold comfort. A city and a person are living things. They don’t shake something like this off.

And neither I nor Beirut have been the same since that night in 2005 when the world ended.

* * *

It’s been thirteen years since the world ended, and yet, a part of me remains in that moment, because trauma and memory are strange things that don’t follow logic.

I don’t expect to go back to Lebanon. If truth be told, I don’t want to. Apart from it not interesting me in the first place, I’m not sure if I could live with it. Can you imagine walking through the ghosts of your own long-ended world?

Yet here I am, sitting in my home office Pittsburgh. It’s been more than a decade since my flight out of Hariri International, on a cool August morning about a month after the bomb. My afternoon coffee is sitting on my desk beside me, and I’ve caught up with my chores for the day. As I catch up with local news and make plans for tomorrow morning, the words “Mount Lebanon” catch my eye.

And as much as I don’t ever want to go back, in an instant it’s happened. A part of me is there again.

I’m a young twenty-something again, with her heart in her throat in that terrible silence between the flash and the thunder. I can almost see the distant spine of the Lebanon Mountains rising through the Beirut smog, with white-capped Mount Sannine at their peak. I can almost hear the staticky sounds of Radio Mount Lebanon, though my stereo is off. It’s not the best station but where else am I going to get my fix of early-oughts American pop on an English-speaking station?

I look into my mug and feel myself frown for a moment. This is the wrong kind of coffee, I think, although you better believe I made it myself.

And then just as suddenly I’m back in Pittsburgh, with the ghost of six years in Beirut curling and twisting around me in a haze, like the last wisps of steam from the mug-contained dark brew I hold in my hands.

Quietly, I click through the various folders on my PC and queue up some old Lebanese music from those days.

Over the years since that flight out of Hariri International I’ve called trauma the demon that follows me. I’ve spoken of flashbacks as “getting yanked out of the present by my ankles.”

But not everything I remember is terrible.

And maybe if I welcome the demon with coffee and the music of Philemon Wehbe and Samira Toufic, it just might be merciful this time. Because even if the world ended in 2005, it’s still here, and still ending.

After all, trauma, and memory, are strange things.

Happy start

Your blood type is one of the least important matters in your life unless you are in a medical situation where blood transfusion is needed. It also matters when you decide to have a baby. This is when your doctor says, “Let’s see what your blood tells us about your pregnancy and child.” Incompatibility of parents’ blood types may be a cause for some health problems in the baby which are serious but not without cure.

Blood typing

Identifying a blood type is a simple procedure. A, B, and O are the three blood antigens – immune proteins. These antigens compose the four main blood types by making different combinations: A, B, AB, and O. Rhesus (D antigen) is also another factor that goes along with typing. The D antigen is basically another inherited immune protein in our blood and is used for further classification of blood types. It is categorized as Rh positive for people who have D antigen, and Rh negative for people without it. The prevalence of the D antigen differs among populations: Caucasians 15%, African Americans 8%, and East Asian populations less than 1%. The difference among populations is again due to inheritance.

Some races and ethnicities have a higher percentage of certain blood types presumably for protection from diseases endemic in their area. A good example of this would be the lack of the Duffy blood type in some malaria endemic areas of Africa which is considered to be the reason for “a distinct survival advantage.” The “absence of the Duffy antigen provides a measure of protection against malaria. The percentage of people lacking the Duffy antigen is much higher in these locations than in areas not endemic for malaria” (Scientific American).

D antigen exists in both females and males but it is especially important in pregnant females. Naturally, D negative people don’t make antibodies to attack D antigen. The person has to encounter Rh (D) positive blood in order to start producing anti-D antibodies. Bleeding during labor is the main reason for the Rh (-) mother to start making antibodies. Even small amounts of Rh (+) blood from the fetus can flame the process. Therefore, it is important to consider the possibility of a fetus being Rh (+). If the dad is Rh (-), the fetus will be Rh (-), and there will be no issues regarding anti-D production in the mother. If the dad is Rh (+) there is still a small possibility that fetus may be Rh (-), yet there is no way to predict it. So, if the mother is Rh (-) and father is Rh (+), medical professionals take precautions to prevent the mother from making anti-D antibodies.

What is the problem if the mother makes anti-D? Most of the time it is the mixing of the fetus’ blood with the mother’s blood during labor that starts antibody production, the first baby is not affected. Once sensitized, it takes approximately one month for Rh antibodies in the maternal circulation to equilibrate in the fetal circulation and therefore the upcoming pregnancies carry the risk of the destruction of the baby’s red blood cells (RBCs). Destruction of the RBCs is called hemolysis, and the disease caused by destruction of fetal RBCs is the hemolytic disease of the fetus and newborn (HDFN).

An untreated pregnancy may have up to a 16% risk of future fetuses developing HDFN for the next pregnancies. The sensitization process is as follows: sensitized Rh antibodies of the mother cross the placenta and find Rh spots on fetal RBCs. They then coat them and, in a way, trigger the destruction. The more RBCs are destroyed, the more the hemoglobin of the fetus drops, trying to compensate for the loss. RBC production at the bone marrow, spleen, liver, and some other sites is increased. As the fetal anemia becomes severe, less oxygen is carried in the blood so tissues start showing signs of hypoxia (lack of oxygen). Damage caused by hypoxia leads to fluid accumulation in various spaces and the deadly condition called hydrops fetalis occurs. It is basically the swelling of the baby due to the reasons mentioned above.

Whether a primary immune response occurs depends upon several factors besides the volume of fetal blood to which the mother was exposed. These variables include the frequency of fetomaternal transfusion and whether the mother and fetus are ABO compatible. Both the immunogenicity of the fetal RBCs and the immunogenic response capacity of the mother play a role in the development of the condition. Interestingly, some patients, like those with AIDS, may not form Anti-Ds. In addition, the incidence of Rh incompatibility in the Rh-negative mother who is also ABO incompatible (the mother has different ABO blood type than the father) is reduced dramatically to 1-2% and is believed to occur because the mother’s serum contains antibodies against the ABO blood group of the fetus. The few fetal red blood cells that are mixed with the maternal circulation are destroyed due to ABO difference before Rh sensitization can proceed to a significant extent. 

Let’s emphasize one point before proceeding further: Anti-D production can be important in anyone who needs blood transfusions for certain diseases. Yet, we can choose which blood to give to the patient and obviously prefer the most compatible blood we have available. The problem arising in pregnant patients is due to the fact that we have no control over baby’s blood type, and the mother’s body can identify the baby as a foreign object at any time during pregnancy. The whole purpose of identification and treatment is to make the incompatible baby unseen by the fighting cells of the mother.

Screening and prevention of anti-D production

Every pregnant woman is screened for blood type and antibody titers at the beginning of pregnancy. If she is Rh (-) as mentioned above, she gets a second screening at 28 weeks to measure the titers of anti-D. If the titer is low, she gets an intramuscular shot called Rh immunoglobulin (RhIg) which is, interestingly, anti-D itself. Some theories suggest that it coats the fetus’ red blood cells and shields it from the mother’s immune system; yet none of these theories is proven. We still don’t know how giving the anti-D from an outside source keeps the mother’s immune system from producing its own anti-D antibodies that actually cause the hemolysis.

RhIg is produced from Rh (-) males and post-menopausal females. These donors are purposefully injected with Rh (+) blood and then measured for anti-D antibody production. The ones that have enough anti-D in their blood are harvested regularly to collect immunoglobulins that contain anti-D.

When harvesting is done, not only are anti-D immunoglobulins collected but also some others, too. That is why the RhIg might cause some side effects and allergic reactions and must be given under doctor’s control.

A second RhIg shot is done within 72 hours of birth. If the routine guidelines are followed and RhIg shots are properly administered, there is less than a 0.1% possibility of seeing the disease in the following pregnancies.

Prevention of hemolysis in the situation of anti-D antibody presence

At the 28 weeks’ screening, if the titer is high, it implies that the woman has already encountered Rh (+) blood at some stage of her life, possibly in a previous pregnancy. Then comes the hard part of preventing the fetus from developing the disease.

The first step is trying to diagnose if the fetus is Rh (+). An Rh (-) fetus will not need any more testing or follow-up. Paternal blood type can be used to estimate the likelihood of the fetus’ blood type, yet misattributed paternity issues make it difficult for clinicians to trust on the typing results of the father. Therefore, more tests are usually done to confirm the fetus’ Rh status rather than solely trusting on the father’s Rh type.

The most common method used for Rh typing of a fetus is cell free DNA testing (cfDNA). Cells of the fetus can be detected in the mother’s blood as early as 38 days of gestation. Usually maternal plasma is sampled at 10 weeks and reverse transcriptase PCR is used to get the fetal Rh status from the DNA.

CfDNA is routinely done to every pregnant patient, at least in some European countries. But in the USA, it depends on the patient’s wishes and is not under routine prenatal care.

If it is not possible to perform cfDNA, an aminocentesis (getting a sample of the baby’s amnion fluid) is the second option. Nevertheless, it is associated with comparably high risk of losing the pregnancy, so it is reserved for high titer, high risk pregnancies.

Serial titers are done to predict the disease. If the pattern shows an increase and reaches a critical titer, then the pregnancy becomes more of a high-risk pregnancy, one complicated by severe anemia.

If the fetus is at risk of severe anemia, a Doppler study must be done to assess middle cerebral artery (MCA) blood flow. As the anemia increases, peak systolic velocity (PSV) increases. When MCA-PSV indicates high risk, fetal hemoglobin levels must be measured by taking blood from the umbilical cord (the cord between fetus and mother) to determine the degree of anemia. If the criteria for severe anemia are met, the fetus is transfused with RBCs. The transfusion is usually done between 18 and 35 weeks. Before 18 weeks, the fetus is too small, and after 35 weeks, the fetus is just too big. Hemoglobin tests are repeated every two weeks until the baby is delivered.

More research on the way

Let’s mention this incredible fact again in case you missed it: what hurts the baby is Anti-D antibodies made by the mother. What we give to the mother to prevent this disaster is the Anti-D antibody (RhIg) made by some unknown donor. When the mother does it herself, the fetus gets harmed; when it is given from an outside source, it protects the fetus. Despite all the research, we still have no idea how this miracle works. Yet more studies are on the way to enlighten us on how RhIg functions.

A happy ending

Routine prenatal care is essential in screening and prevention of HDFN. Simple tests and treatments can easily lower the possibility of acquiring the condition. Each subsequent pregnancy after the first affected pregnancy is likely to find the fetus suffering from more severe hemolytic disease, and at an earlier gestational age. For this reason, pregnant women must consent to screening and receiving RhIg. Any type of bleeding must be reported to the doctor immediately.

Your blood type doesn’t affect you from having healthy babies. Just a little bit of awareness and taking the appropriate precautions recommended by your doctor can lead you to the happy ending of a 9-month journey.

References

Scientific American. “Why do people have different blood types?” Mar 7, 2005.
Uptodate.com
Medscape.com