NASA Mission Sheds New Light On the Sun

Bale SD et al. “Highly structured slow solar wind emerging from an equatorial coronal hole.”

Howard RA et al. “Near-Sun observations of an F-corona decrease and K-corona fine structure.”

Kasper JC et al. “Alfvénic velocity spikes and rotational flows in the near-Sun solar wind.”

McComas DJ et al. “Probing the energetic particle environment near the Sun.”

Nature, December 2019.

Although the sun sits at the center of our solar system, its most basic behaviors still remain a big mystery. NASA’s Parker Solar Probe, launched in 2018, aimed to address some of the fundamental questions about the sun: Why is the sun’s outer atmosphere, the corona, so hot? Where does solar wind come from, and what causes it to be shot out of the corona? What makes the sun flare up sometimes, shooting even more excited particles out into space? These are some of the questions that scientists hope Parker can answer before its mission ends in 2025. Meanwhile, Parker got very close to the Sun for several days last November and in April 2019. Parker Solar Probe during its two encounters traveled within 15 million miles of the Sun’s surface, far surpassing the 25-million-mile record first set by NASA’s Helios 2 mission in 1976. Parker has also claimed the title of the fastest human-made object in history from Helios 2, as it surfed near the Sun at over 153,000 miles per hour. Its first batch of released results came from measurements of the corona, which is, remarkably, hotter than the surface itself. The corona extends millions of miles from the surface into space. The region is only visible to the naked eye during a solar eclipse as a golden ring hanging in a darkened sky. The corona emits powerful streams of high-energy particles, known as solar wind, which can be felt all across the solar system. Parker’s data shows that solar winds are far more turbulent near the sun than in our own vicinity. The wind drags the sun’s magnetic field out into space, and even bends the field enough for magnetic forces to completely flip around for a few minutes at a time, pointing back at the sun itself instead of into space. The strength of this effect was completely surprising and puzzling. Scientists also found that shifts in the sun’s magnetic field speed up the particles flowing away from the sun much faster than any of their models had previously predicted.

This really highlights the idea that proximity is everything for studying the sun. Parker continues to edge closer to the sun. As its orbit shrinks, it will eventually reach a perihelion distance of just 6.16 million km in 2025, where it will experience temperatures of nearly 1400°C. Thanks to the protection provided by its specially-designed, carbon-composite heat shield, the probe won’t melt and the spacecraft and its instruments will be kept at a temperature of about 29°C.

Science Stands Behind Bilingual Children

Nicoladis et al. “How to use a wide variety of words in telling a story with a small vocabulary: cognitive predictors of lexical selection for simultaneous bilingual children.” Language, Cognition and Neuroscience, October 2019.

A new study shows that bilingual children use just as many words while telling a story in either language as do children who only speak one language. Past research showed that bilingual children score lower than monolingual children on traditional vocabulary tests. However, these new findings may change the understanding of multiple languages and cognition in children. Learning a word is directly related to how much time is spent in each language. For bilingual children, time is split between languages. As expected, they tend to have lower vocabularies in each of their languages. However, this new research shows that as a function of storytelling, bilingual children are equally strong as monolingual children. Researchers examined a group of French-English bilingual children who had been taught two languages since birth, rather than learning a second language later in life. They used a new, highly sensitive measure for examining cognitive flexibility, a participant’s ability to switch between games with different rules, while maintaining accuracy and reaction time. Their study builds on previous research examining vocabulary in bilingual children who have learned English as a second language. Overall, the bilingual children used just as many words to tell a story in English as monolingual children. The children also used just as many words in French as they did in English when telling a story. Their analysis suggests that the number of words that bilingual children use in their stories is strongly correlated with their high levels of cognitive flexibility—the ability to switch between thinking about different concepts. Researchers emphasize that parents of bilingual children do not need to be concerned about long-term school achievement. Vocabulary is a strong predictor of success in education, and so is storytelling. In a storytelling context, bilingual kids are able to use this flexibility to convey stories in creative ways.

New Tomatoes Engineered for Urban Gardens and Outer Space

Kwon CT et al. “Rapid customization of Solanaceae fruit crops for urban agriculture.” Nature Biotechnology, December 2019.

Humanity have a massive problem: feeding our future selves. As a result of rising population, continued destruction due to climate change, and the fact that sustainable land use is becoming ever-more challenging, learning how to grow enough food for everyone is a burning question to address in the agriculture field. In an effort to grow more crops in smaller and less-than-ideal locations, scientists developed new genetically-modified “urban” tomatoes that ripen in compact bunches similar to grapes. These tomatoes resemble a bouquet whose roses have been replaced by ripe cherry tomatoes. They also mature quickly, producing ripe fruit that’s ready for harvest in less than 40 days. Scientist utilized the CRISPR gene-editing technology and produced the new tomatoes by fine-tuning three genes that control the switch to reproductive growth and plant size: 1) the SELF-PRUNING (SP), 2) SP5G, and 3) SIER genes. While the first two genes have the duty prevent growth, flowering and fruiting of the plant sooner, the SIER gene is in charge of controlling the length of the plant’s stems. Altering the first two genes resulted in tomato plants that didn’t produce a lot of fruit and tasted poorly. It was not until the scientists identified the third gene that they were able to produce the desired plant. This study demonstrates that we can produce crops in new ways, without having to tear up our land as much or add excessive fertilizer that runs off into rivers and streams. This could also be a complementary approach to help feed people locally and with a reduced carbon footprint. Climate change is expected to change growing conditions on Earth, worsening conditions for many crops.

Farmers could soon be growing tomatoes bunched like grapes in a storage unit, in a shipping container, on the roof of a skyscraper, and – as humanity stretches out past low Earth orbit toward the moon – eventually, in Mars.

Likewise, Aristotle considered metaphors a sign of language mastery and genius, but he also deemed them ornamental, appropriate for poetry but too enigmatic for philosophical or scientific discourse. On the contrary, Max Black articulated an influential alternative to traditional views of understanding metaphors. Having rejected Aristotle’s comparison as too simplistic, Black argued that metaphor is a communicative phenomenon operating not at the level of mere word meaning, but at the (ostensibly) deeper level of conceptual structure. Lakoff and Johnson (1980) put forward that metaphors establish the modal method through which the mind represents concepts that are not sensorial or perceptual in nature. Their conclusion is:

“Metaphor pervades our normal conceptual system. Because so many of the concepts that are important to us are either abstract or not clearly delineated in our experience (the emotions, ideas, time) we need to get a grasp on them by means of other concepts that we understand in clearer terms (spatial orientation, objects). This need leads to metaphorical definition in our conceptual system” (1980, 115).

Conceptual Metaphor has been the prime concern for translation scholars, academicians, and students. Scholars have tried to map and analyze conceptual metaphorical aspects in poetry and novels for a long time. But somehow, they face a series of confusions regarding the meanings of some conceptual metaphorical phrases. As Newmark (1988) holds, whilst the central problem of translation is the overall choice of a translation method for a text, the most important particular problem is the translation of metaphor. Conceptual Metaphor is often fully employed in literary texts and it is regarded as a challenge to ESL students and academicians.

According to Tone Aksberg Bjerkmo Johansen (2007), the process that constitutes a conceptual metaphor is when the knowledge of one field is epitomized onto another field. Conceptual Metaphors are normally used when expressions that represent our thoughts in a conventional way are being systematically used in everyday language. An example of conceptual metaphor is a metaphoric concept such as “Theories are buildings,” where we can partially conceptualize “Theories” in terms of “Buildings.” According to Lakoff and Johnson, metaphor has the tendency to highlight and hide certain aspects of the target concept. Another example is “A relationship is a journey,” which ascertains that the metaphor is measuring the progress in a relationship, but it does not give any idea of how this progress can be achieved. Metaphor is only a partial mapping as “not all the features of the source have analogs in the target,”

According to Apps (1995), metaphors have proven useful after examining different approaches to learning in adult education. Young (1996) states that, “Metaphors form visual constructs through which we associate, interpret and organize thought. They dominate and delimit our consideration of experience and phenomena. Because one’s metaphor of teaching and learning interacts with fundamental issues such as the nature of knowledge and the nature of persons, it impinges directly on the way pedagogical decisions are made” (p. 79).

Postman and Weingartner (1969) suggested that many adult educators conceptualize teaching and learning through the use of metaphors. Winner and Engel (1980) used a matching task where the classification of one item in terms of recurring similarity to another item was scored as metaphorical. Furthermore, Vosniadou and Ortony (1983) asked their participants to complete similarity statements, including similes. The expressions tested “were often constructed idiosyncratic metaphorical expressions instead of actual natural language expressions.”

Waggoner, Messe, and Palermo (1985) found out that the recollection and the construction of meaning for both literal and metaphorical expressions depends on the supporting contexts, such as extended and appropriately structured stories. Stones (1989) used short stories with familiar concrete nominal metaphors as targets and he found out that participants perform better when they are asked to paraphrase rather than explain the meaning of the metaphor. However, this has one drawback for children, as the meta-cognitive abilities that paraphrasing required usually develop late in childhood. Thus, such reasons could prevent participants from scoring well in the task.

For students who do not have a cultural orientation of the western background, metaphors from English Linguistics or English Literature textbooks might create confusion. According to Brown, “cultural knowledge” is too vast to teach in the context of English Literature, thus, ESL students should be taught “explicit strategies for making inferences from language” (1990, 11-17). Furthermore, Murray (1985, 7) states that without the inculcation of such strategies, students will interpret the texts according to their own background. Murray’s recommendations are based on the “Schema Theory” (Adams Collins 1979), which is the body of research into reading comprehension. According to Adams and Collins (1979), a schema can be characterized as an “abstract knowledge structure” in the memory and it functions by interpreting, storing, and retrieving new information. This theory concludes that texts on their own do not provide meanings, but rather they direct to readers the construct meaning based on what they have acquired previously.

References

• (n.d.). The American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language (4th Ed.). Retrieved June 23, 2007, from Dictionary.com website.
• Kaal, Anna Albertha. 2012. Metaphor in conversation. VU University Amsterdam.
• Lakoff, George and Johnson, Mark. 1980. Metaphors We Live By. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
• Lakoff, George. 1993. Metaphor and Thought. 2nd Ed. Cambridge University Press.
• Lakoff, George and Turner, Mark. 1989. More Than Cool Reason: A Field Guide to Poetic Metaphor. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
• Lakoff, George. 1993. “The contemporary theory of metaphor.” In A. Ortony (Ed.) Metaphor and Thought. (pp. 202-251) Cambridge: Cambridge University Press [second edition]
• Lakoff, George and Johnson, Mark. 1980. “Conceptual Metaphor in Everyday Language.” (Vol. 7). The Journal of Philosophy.
• McGlone, Matthew S. 2006. What is the explanatory value of conceptual metaphor? The University of Texas.
• Erna. 1996. “The limits of literal meaning.” Danish Yearbook of Philosophy.
• Pierson, Cheri. 2008. “Reflections on Educational Metaphors for Teaching English as a Second Language to Adult Learners.” (Vol.17). PAACE Journal of Lifelong Learning.
• Short, Mick. 1996. Exploring the Language of Poems, Plays and Prose. Longman.
• Van, Engen Robert B. 2008. Metaphor: A Multifaceted Literary Device used by Morgan and Weick to Describe Organizations. (Vol. 1). Regent University.
• Winberg, Christine. 1994. The comprehension of figurative language in English literary texts. Rhodes University.

It is usually easy to associate with people from one’s own culture. Why step out of your comfort zone to extend a friendly hand to someone from a different culture? Perhaps, if my experience is typical, to enjoy one of the most rewarding experiences of your life. This opportunity is readily available to Americans who wish to make the effort. To interact successfully with Turkish students and professionals in America, for example, the American host must navigate differing perceptions of family, society, and ultimate duty. By practicing role reversal, a person of goodwill can overcome the barriers of language, religion, and nationality. Allow the person getting help to become a helper, and the student to become a teacher. Take into consideration the enthusiasm many cultures have for personal relationships. You might find your own life changed for the better.

Turning the tables to build intercultural friendships

Americans in university cities can build lifelong friendships with sojourners from around the world. Year after year, bright and ambitious young people leave other countries to acquire an American degree, make American friends, and soak up a culture and language very different from their own. They have traveled halfway around the world to meet us. Traveling a few miles across the city is a small step by comparison, but the rewards are great.

My adventure in trans-cultural friendship combined a personal interest in the Turkish language and culture with a graduate-school class. I analyzed interactions with Turkish sojourners in several different settings, wrote a scholarly paper, and completed the class. My family also made lifelong friendships with fascinating people. Much that we learned can be applied in other contexts.

Edward T. Hall describes Turkey as a “high context” culture, and America as ““low context.” In Turkey, much more time is devoted to developing the relationships behind transactions than to the transactions themselves (Friedman, 1979, pp. 45–54). Relationships, connections, and group harmony are the important values. The validity of the group is more important than individual rectitude.

Given these insights, it would appear that an American wishing to establish rapport with Turkish sojourners should understand the basic elements of Turkish culture. Beyond this, the technique of “turning the tables” has value. Create a situation in which the guest can function as a host, the student as a teacher, the outsider as the portal to an alternate inside.

First adventure

In August 2004, I went to a local university to meet a “language partner.” Picture a casually dressed, fifty-something man walking through the parking lot with an elegant young woman. The director of the language partners program introduces them, gives them a list of suggested activities, and leaves it to them to make further arrangements.

“Dawn” is an engineer who wants help with her colloquial English. The fifty-something man wants to learn Turkish. Each wants to see the world through the eyes of the other culture.

The two arranged a first meeting in a wide-open public place-the university’s student union. They brought notebooks. He brought a Turkish elementary-school primer. They sat on adjacent chairs and practiced reading aloud.

On the second meeting, in the same place, Dawn introduced her husband “Freedom.” The researcher and Freedom chatted for a few minutes, discussing common interests in history and politics. The researcher apparently passed the test, since the couple extended an invitation to continue the lessons at their apartment.

When you are invited into a Turkish home, the researcher had learned, expect to be served food and drink, and be sure to bring a small gift. With this in mind, he purchased a book at a used bookstore. He knocked on the door, greeted the couple, and stepped in. Freedom reminded him to leave his shoes at the door. The three chatted for a few minutes about history and politics, Dawn served tea and cookies, and they began doing language work.

This established the pattern the visits followed over the next eighteen months. The American would speak to Freedom first, discussing Freedom’s academic progress. He would present them with a small gift, usually an inexpensive but thoughtfully chosen book. Dawn would serve tea and a snack of some kind-baklava, spinach cake, yaprak dolmasi (stuffed grape leaves), and so on. The language partners would work together on their parallel projects while the husband was in the apartment. Week by week, I made progress in my Turkish textbook.

Since I am a professional writer, I also proofread Freedom’s scholarly papers for colloquial correctness. Towards the end of the experience, I also helped Dawn translate three affidavits into clear English.

A few months into the adventure, the researcher invited his young friends over for a Thanksgiving dinner. The Turkish couple brought a bouquet of roses. Dawn brought a pair of fluffy slippers in a grocery bag to wear while visiting, which greatly fascinated the American six-year-old daughter. The families ate together, then sat in the living room and talked while the six- and eight-year-old girls frolicked. The guests enjoyed being around children.

Some time later, Freedom and Dawn invited the researcher’s family to their apartment for an iftar, the formal after-sunset feast held during Ramadan. That year, at the end of Ramadan, the researcher’s family had their friends over for a Bayram (Eid) dinner. Over the course of the project, the researcher had the Turkish couple over for dinner several times, and invited them to attend his daughter’s wedding as valued friends of the family.

Towards the end of Freedom’s master’s degree program, Dawn got a job translating for a Turkish family that had come to the USA seeking specialized medical care for their thirteen-year-old son. Dawn introduced the researcher to this family so that he could continue his informal self-study of Turkish. In May of 2006, Freedom completed his degree program, and the couple returned to Turkey.

I e-mailed them nearly twice as often as they e-mailed me (142 to 74). Fifty-one times, these exchanges involved the kind of practical help that a native speaker of English can offer someone whose native language lies completely outside of the Indo-European family.

These numbers are not asymmetric when weighed against the fact that I was a guest in their apartment approximately sixty times, and received from them the coaching I needed to acquire a rudimentary knowledge of Turkish.

Another goal of the encounters, to foster mutual understanding, was also apparently reached. In an e-mail from Turkey several months after their return Dawn wrote:

“Turkish people are religious people (of course not all of them but the majority). I saw the same thing in the USA. From the cinema and TV shows we watch through TV, American people seem like they don’t care about religion and they are very free about what they do in their lives. I think in real life it is not like that. As I see in your family, you care about your family very much and you try to teach your children about what is important in life for you. I think it is the same in Turkey.” (Gençer, 2006)

Second adventure

A second adventure in acculturation involved a Turkish family sojourning in the USA to seek medical care for a seriously ill son. The project began when Dawn introduced everyone at the clinic lounge. Later social encounters included picnics, and a series of language exercises at the hospital cafeteria.

The “Smith” family consisted of “Henry,” the father. “Margaret,” the mother. “Janet,” a seventeen-year-old daughter, and “Eric,” a son who had his thirteenth birthday while in a sterile ward of the hospital, undergoing bone marrow transplant therapy.

I met the family through Dawn, who had found work as a translator for the Smiths, helping them in their dealings with medical personnel. At one highly stressful point in their sojourn, the daughter’s student visa was revoked. Janet had curtailed her exchange student activities to find the university-connected health center, whose services offered the last hope of saving her brother’s life. As she was the only member of the family comfortable with the English language, Janet was needed at the hospital. Furthermore, Eric had only consented to the painful course of treatment because that ordeal gave him the opportunity to spend time with his beloved sister.

While Janet’s visa situation was being negotiated, she, Henry, and Margaret composed affidavits to plead their case. Dawn translated these into English, to the best of her ability, and asked for my help with a final edit.

At the initial meeting, following Dawn’s directions, I found the fourth-floor children’s lounge. Dawn took me in through the airlock, and explained how to put on the disposable overshoes. We went to Eric’s room. He was seated in his bed wearing pajamas and playing a video game. Janet, the big sister, was also present. Dawn and the parents, Henry and Margaret, escorted me to a visitor’s lounge.

We sat around a table, they offered me some donuts, and we conversed. Henry and Janet had an apartment near the hospital, but Margaret spent every night with her son in the hospital room. Dawn explained that American hospital personnel do not understand the intensity of the family bond in Turkish families. Apparently, it would be unthinkable for a Turkish mother to leave a dangerously ill child in the care of strangers overnight. She slept in an overstuffed chair in the room.

Janet’s visa problems were resolved, and I had banked some good will for my earlier efforts on their behalf. They were glad to hear that our church was praying for their son’s healing. After all, Margaret explained through Dawn, Christians and Muslims worship the same God.

I brought a few small presents, including a book of handy English phrases, listed with their Turkish equivalents, and the English repeated phonetically in the Turkish alphabet.

The Turkish tutorial sessions began in June 2006, and lasted almost six months. For our first tutorial session, Henry greeted me with a smile, and led me to the first-floor cafeteria. He was cleanly dressed, but looked as though he had missed shaving that day. I used an unobtrusive digital voice recorder to record the lessons. A continuous buzz of background conversation can be heard on the recording. Henry brought out several sheets of neatly hand-written Turkish sentences, and a brief essay describing his situation. The bulk of the conversation consisted of discussing the prepared lesson. I heard myself on tape frequently interrupting, and interjecting encouraging words (Yes! Yes!) and attempts at Turkish repartee. Henry spoke carefully, slowly, with frequent backtracking and repetition.

After we had talked for a bit over an hour, Henry asked, “Is that OK for today?”

“I’ve learned a little sentence in Turkish that goes like this: Affedersiniz. Kaybolduk. Bana yardým eder misiniz?” I answered. (Excuse me. I’m lost. Can you help me?) He laughed, I turned off the recorder, and we made arrangements to meet the next week.

Time after time, when we settled down to talk, Henry’s careful preparations guided the remainder of the conversation. He was in charge, genial, and seemed to take pleasure in imparting information, in helping.

We exchanged frequent e-mails to set up or cancel our meetings. Henry spent at least five times as long coaching my Turkish as I did his English. In part, this was because his English is much better than my Turkish.

Twice, Henry accepted an invitation to attend a picnic-one on the Fourth of July, sponsored by my church, the other a few weeks later sponsored by the Divan Cultural Center, a Cary, NC organization dedicated to fostering Turkish–American friendship. Both times, he and Margaret seemed to enjoy themselves, and delight in the opportunity to interact with other adults.

Even under conditions of weariness and extreme personal stress, this Turkish professional, a government-employed engineer, was unfailingly polite, and seemed to genuinely enjoy interacting with a sympathetic American. The format of becoming a tutor, a mentor, apparently provided a space of mastery during a time of uncertainty and anxiety.

Henry maintained control of the conversations, staying on the sure ground of a topic he knew well, the Turkish language. Although I was able to buy him a beverage once, he was careful to not let that happen again. When he attended a Fourth of July picnic sponsored by our church, he brought us a gift bag of imported delicacies. When he came to the Divan Cultural Center picnic, he timed his arrival to be after the food had already been mostly consumed. He was apparently wary of incurring asymmetrical obligations.

Conclusions

My family has “adopted” another young Turkish couple. This ongoing project involves several issues. How can an American establish rapport with people from a different nation, linguistic family, and religion? What can he learn once the rapport is established?

The technique of “turning the tables” helped insights and perspectives to cross the boundaries. By becoming a student of the Turkish language, I allowed people who were immersed in an alien linguistic environment to feel at home, and to talk about a topic they knew very well. By demonstrating a sincere interest in, and respect for, their home culture, I helped them to feel at home in my culture. By fulfilling the Turkish expectations of guests, I helped guests in my country to fulfill the satisfying role of hosts.

The first project demonstrates the progress of a mutually satisfying and symmetrical relationship with a Turkish family over the course of nearly two years.

The second project demonstrates how important control can be to a Turkish sojourner whose life has been shaped by traumatic events beyond his control. Although Henry often looked tired, he was always punctual and fully engaged in our conversations. The heart of each encounter consisted of animated conversation in simplified English and Turkish, a great deal of laughter, and a sense of delight in being able to make ourselves clear to one another in the other’s language.

What insights were conveyed over the bridges thus built? To some extent, Turkish sojourners and immigrants do indeed bring with them “differing perceptions of family, society, and ultimate duty.” For example, to avoid offending Turkish sensibilities, the wise westerner avoids extended contact with someone of the opposite sex unless the other party’s spouse is also present.

The longing all respondents expressed was for Americans to think beyond their own culture, and to take an interest in the different lives of people in other parts of the world. Given the Turkish enthusiasm for personal relationships, a small effort by a citizen of the United States can dramatically aid cultural understanding in both directions.

Thomas C. Smedley, MS, is a student at Regent University pursuing a doctorate in Communication Research. He is a technical writer with a special interest in building bridges between disparate communities – programmers and end users, Americans and Turks.

References

• Berry, J., Kim, U., Minde, T. and Mok, D. (1987, Autumn). Comparative Studies of Acculturative Stress. International Migration Review. 21-3, 491-511
• Gençer, N. (2005). Personal conversation.
• Gudykunst, W. & Ting-Toomey, S. (1988). Culture and Interpersonal Communication. Newbury Park, CA: Sage Publications, Inc.
• Teske, R. and Nelson, B. (1974, May). Acculturation and Assimilation: A Clarification. American Ethnologist. 1-2, 351-367.
• Weinstock, S. (1963, June). Role Elements: A Link between Acculturation and Occupational Status. The British Journal of Sociology. 14-2, 144-149.

When Did English and Hindi Begin to Differ?

The long-established “comparative method” of linguistics uses vocabulary, the structure of words, and the sound systems of languages to draw language family trees, depicting in what order related languages (such as, English, Hindi, and ancient Hittite) diverged from their mother languages and the relative “relatedness” of sister languages. Dates of divergence are usually referred to dates of historical or archaeological significance. For example, the Romanian language, a relative of Italian, must have been introduced to the region between 112 and 270 AD, when Roman troops occupied Dacia. However, the comparative method does not provide any dates itself, other than those of relative chronology. Lexicostatistics, the rival study for vocabulary change, extracts essential vocabulary from languages, such as “I, three, and hand,” which are assumed to be more resistant to change, and produces a metric of shared cognates and, hence, language kinship. Assuming a constant rate of language change over time, one can extrapolate to pre-history dates for language evolution. For example, one may try to estimate when the proto-Indo-European, the ancestor of English, Hindi, and Hittite, started branching into distinct new languages. Unfortunately, the promise of lexicostatistics (and its method, called glottochronology) became doubtful quickly after its birth. It was criticized very much in the same way as biological phylogenetic analyses were. One example to show the correspondence is that just as the mutation rates of genes (sequences of DNA) may change over time, languages may also be changing faster or slower at certain periods. Lexicostatistics is unreliable, as the similarity between languages could be mere chance convergences, or borrowings, or on the other hand, distant relatives could be unrecognizable after a great deal of divergence. These objections have plagued biology in similar ways.

Phylogenetics and Philology Side by Side

IJeJaEghoManMeHandMainRukaCheriDastHathThreeTroisTriTriaSeTinMotherMereMatMiteraMaderMaNewNouveaunoviykenuryosTazeNeyanoseNezNosMitiNaNak

Figure 1: A partial list

for Indo-European words used by Gray and Atkinson (Dyen, I. Kruskal, J.B. & Black, P., FILE IE-DATA1 at http://www.ntu.edu.au/education/langs/ielex/IE-DATA1)

The recent study by Gray and Atkinson from the University of Auckland, New Zealand, published on November 27 in Nature, uses enhanced methods developed for phylogenetic studies in language tree construction, which produces trees that are consistent with those established by the comparative method. Most importantly, maximum-likelihood models and the Bayesian inference method were employed, both being statistical methods now established in phylogenetics, to counteract any weaknesses found in past attempts of glottochronology. Their method makes it possible to estimate divergence times without a strict rate of change, also enabling the determination of unsubstantiated sections of the tree, and the incorporation of these uncertainties in the calculation of the trees and divergence times. Gray and Atkinson only used fourteen age constraints to calibrate their divergence time calculations in estimating chronology, and after confirming tests eliminated some of these constraints, doubtful cognates, and other problems, they were able to come up with a date for the initial divergence of all Indo-European languages of 7,800 to 9,800 years ago. These dates coincide beautifully with the Anatolian farmer hypothesis, which claims dispersion of Indo-Europeans from Anatolia (modern-day Turkey) with the spreading of agriculture around 8,000-9,500 years ago, a hypothesis now supported by genetic studies that report a Neolithic, Near Eastern contribution to the European gene pool as well.

An Alternative Theory

This study does not extinguish one of the fiercest discussions of this century, which is favored by many linguists, that linguistic evidence favors the Kurgan expansion hypothesis, with Kurgan horsemen invading and spreading from the Asian steppes 6,000 years ago. It is thought that Kurgan horsemen possessed certain advantages, like the knowledge of the wheel and horseback riding, just as the Anatolians knew about farming. These linguists claim that the statistical and computational methods used in biology do not reflect the way languages change, and these methods use only vocabulary, but ignore grammar. This new study is a shot in the arm for the supporters of the Anatolian theory and resurrects glottochronology. Obviously, the discussion is far from being over. To reconcile the two, Gray and Atkinson note that they have observed an intense diversification period in their data at a date of 6,000 years ago, and they refer to an inclusive theory of both Anatolian origin and Kurgan expansion.2

Intertwined Trees

In their article Gray and Atkinson predict the combination of computational phylogenetic methods and vocabulary data to examine archaeological hypotheses in the future, as methods developed for biology continue to establish themselves in social sciences. As David Searls of Glaxo-Smith-Kline Pharmaceuticals concludes in his “News and Views” article in the same issue of Nature,3 “[this work] should stimulate even more cross-fertilization of ideas among those studying the intertwined trees of life and language.”

English converts have been the topic of a recent research. The research was based on formal interviews with 70 converts; 50 males and 20 females. Their ages range from 17 to 66 years. The major objective of this research was to observe and record the conversion phenomenon of English converts to Islam and to provide the reasons underlying them. The research endeavoured to understand the psychological and sociological roots of conversion, to find out converts’ background, and the conversion processes they went through. For this end the whole lifespan of the converts was examined.

Religion of Upbringing

English converts seem to have come from families where there was no strong identification with any religion. They mostly come from families that did not belong to a church, or, were not active participants in a church. Most describe their parents’ connection with the church in terms of ceremonial attendance like weddings and funerals. When classified according to religion of upbringing 51(73%) of the 70 were Church of England; 12 (17%) were Catholics; 3 (4%) were Methodists; 4 (6%) were Jews. Significantly, 17 (24.3%) had parents religiously heterogeneous such as mother being Church of England and father Agnostic, or mother being Catholic and father Church of England. And 5 (7%) described one parent being atheist or agnostic. 36 (51.4%) said that they had ‘no’ or ‘weak’ religious upbringing. 20 (28.6%) answered ‘normal’ while only 14 (20%) described it as ‘strong’.

Religious Affiliation Prior to Conversion

Converts were quite explicit concerning their general dissatisfaction with their previous religious beliefs. Only 8 (11%) mentioned that they were practising their religion of origin prior to conversion. 32 (46%) reported being nominal, weak or disillusioned with their old religion. 16 (23%) had no religion or were not interested in religion at all. And 14 (20%) were involved with a religious movement, such as Hare Krishna and Divine Light Mission, prior to conversion. As for ‘belief in God’, 58 (83%) reported that they believed in God, 9 (13%) lost their belief in God, while 3 (4%) were not sure if they believed or not.

As the above figures illustrate, it is interesting that for a significant number of converts’ rejection of the faith of their parents or culture did not imply a rejection of religion in general or loss of belief in God. 14 (20%) proceeded to explore other religious alternatives following their initial rejection of a particular faith. As for religious affiliations and belief in God prior to conversion, and what conversion meant for these people in terms of these areas, they may be classified into three groups:

1) Those who had no religious commitment for a long time or described themselves as nominal in their religion of origin. People who fall into this group form the vast majority (75%). For them conversion meant a religious intensification, not through the religion of childhood, but through a different religion.

2) Those who described themselves as religious for a long period of time, but became disillusioned later on and were on the brink of losing their belief in their religion prior to conversion. Around 12% fall into this group.

3) Those who lost belief in God after rejecting their religion. For them, conversion meant rediscovering belief in God and returning to the way of God. Around 13% fall into this category.

Wilson (1976: 19-21), in discussing the effects of secularization on modern society illustrates how moral control by religion gave way to modern society’s mechanical and bureaucratic devices, and how everyday life has been demoralized as human involvement in many areas of activity was replaced by technical controls. Arguing the decreasing role of the church in England, Wilson asserts that ‘people have what might be called an ‘office’ conception of the Church, a service facility that is well distributed over the land area of the country to be available when needed.’ The converts’ accounts confirm that over-secularization led them to seek an alternative way of life. They believe that Islam gave them a practical means of getting closer to God living a good life, and getting peace in ‘this secular environment’. They became interested in Islam in the first place because they felt that Islam has strong clear values on things they feel concerned about, not just the abuse of environment, but even things like homosexuality. Their revolt is not always directed against religious beliefs but against certain practices legitimized by Christianity and its Church. While giving their accounts on their previous life, the converts emphasized that they felt a need for a religion whereby they could orient their everyday life and they preferred Islam because it is a complete way of life not a compartmentalized religion confined to certain areas, as Sarah pointed out: ‘As an ex-Christian I now see Christianity as just a religion, but Islam, as I understand, is the way you live. It is a different approach. For instance, you can be a Christian and you can do almost everything, and you can say you are a Christian happily. But if you are Muslim, it is different, you are restricted in that matter.’

They felt that something was missing, and that was the influence of religion in their lives. Before coming to Islam they started criticising the existing religion and its culture and began having certain affinities and world views closer to that of Islam which eventually made a possible correlation between their views and Islam.

Some of those who were involved or became interested in new religions were in search of an alternative to the secular way of life with a strong reaction to the materialistic and secular perspective of the society. Garry, for example, became a Zen-Buddhist in a university when he came to believe that spirituality was lacking in the teaching system. Yet Garry found Zen-Buddhism monastic, not encompassing the social dimension of life. He said: ‘It could answer personal questions, but it couldn’t answer global questions.’

Socio-demographic Factors

Contrary to the assumption that most of the people who join an alien religion or so-called new religious movement are dropouts from society, converts to Islam can in no way be seen as such. On the contrary, their educational and work careers are quite normal. They achieved significantly higher levels of education than those typical for their population as a whole. 60 percent had at least a bachelor’s degree. Indeed, 20 percent had advanced graduate degrees. Converts to Islam tend to come from the middle class section of the society. 46 (66%) associated themselves with the middle class, while 24 (34%) identified with the working class. They seem to have a wide range of occupations which vary from taxi drivers to university lecturers. As for marital status, 40 people were single at the time of conversion. 23 were married or engaged (14 to Muslims, and 9 to non-Muslims), and 7 were divorcees.

Emotional and Cognitive Concerns

A significant number of the testimonials covered accounts on troubled lives before entrance into Islam. The pre-conversion life of nearly half of the converts (48.6%) was judged to contain emotional distress. For them this period of their lives seems to have led them to look for something. For one fifth of the sample the emotional turmoil that characterized their descriptions of their childhood and adolescence was also apparent in the immediate antecedents to the conversion experience. Their unhappiness was, in most cases, caused by parental marriages which either ended up in divorce or nearly broke up, and they described it as the major trauma of their lives. 13 (18.6%) divorced or had a broken relationship before conversion and this caused long-term emotional turmoil and anxiety. Some converts said that they were grateful to God to have experienced such distressful incidents because it was these events that sparked them into thinking about religion.

The conversion experience may be related to emotional turmoil or personal distress experienced in the immediate preconversion period. However, the accounts of the converts to Islam suggest that conversions did not occur as a direct result of the emotional turmoil or personal distress, although 34 (48.6%) reported emotional distress prior to conversion. It may be associated with conversion, but it is not necessarily a predisposing condition. In the preconvert there may be an unconscious conflict, and a psychological set, but these factors, alone, in many cases, are not enough. There must be a current force which lights the fuse. That fuse took the form of cognitive and existential questions. The course that the pre-conversion period takes in many cases is that the emotional turmoil or personal distress of the individual leads him to a stage where he develops cognitive concerns.

Cognitive quest, for the converts to Islam, contained concerns or preoccupation with political, social, and moral issues, and religious doubts. Existential concerns cover questions like ‘What is the meaning and purpose of my life?’, ‘How does one deal with the fact that he is going to die?’, and ‘What should one do about his shortcomings?’. 33 (47.1%) reported preoccupation with cognitive concerns. They reported feelings of aimlessness, lack of purpose or direction and meaning, and of incompleteness, which mainly arose out of cognitive and existential concerns. These people believe that the cognitive problems that used to bother them are met by conversion to Islam because it offered them a complete philosophy of life; it proclaimed the responsibility of man, a future life, and a day of judgement. It answered their questions like ‘What is man’s place in the universe?’, and ‘What is his relationship with the world around him.’ Cognitive quests also revealed ambiguities in one’s belief system. These ambiguities were anchored during adolescence, but revived later in life when one became actively involved in life situations and felt an urge to have a faith, or a need to return to religion. Until this stage of their life these people seemed not to have bothered about religion, but at this stage when these needs became more manifest they re-questioned their previous beliefs and as a result they either felt confused or they decided to give them up entirely. The ambiguities with regard to their previous religious beliefs, namely Christianity, centred around some basic concepts of Christianity and its theological implications such as Trinity, Jesus being the Son of God, original sin, atonement theory, and the intercession of the clergy. Some criticisms also focused on perceived hypocrisy in mainstream churches and their incapacity to lead the people in moral issues.

(to be continued)

References

• BALL, H. (1987) Why British Women Embrace Islam?, Leicester: Muslim Youth Educational Council.
• JOHNSTONE, P. (1981) ‘Christians and Muslims in Britain’, Islamochristiana, No.7, pp.67-99.
• MCHUGH, F. (1990) ‘Allah’s English Daughters’, Telegraph Weekend Magazine, 31 March, pp.34-S.
• WILSON, B. (1976) Contemporary Transformation of Religion, Oxford: Clerandon.

In spite of their long history and culture, and except for the period of the Crusades, the Turks hardly figured in Western consciousness until the conquest of Constantinople. Most of the West’s information about them came from the travel or diary recollections of merchants and traders who travelled to the Middle East and the Levant. Later, more copious publications appeared: journalistic or pamphleteering papers; formal studies aiming to describe the history, government, manners, religion, etc. of the Turks; books specifically about Islam as the West wished to have it portrayed, and (later still) plays and operettas with lavish ‘Oriental’ settings with important roles for ‘Turks’ or ‘Moors’ (Aksoy, n.d., p.344).

The earliest English book on Turkish history, the General History of the Turks (1603), was widely used as a standard reference work in Europe. Despite the fact that it was praised by many literary figures like Johnson, Southey and Lord Byron, the work has subsequently been criticized as an outrageously prejudiced collection of bits and pieces. As Bisbee remarks (1951, p.7) ‘whenever an educated Turk (looked) into Western histories of civilization or books on Turkey, he ran into unpleasant passages about his own people.’

Increasing Western interest in the Ottoman system of government, Ottoman culture, traditions and religion, occasioned further studies: for example, The Present State of the Ottoman Empire (1668), A Compendious History of the Turks (1660), Political Reflection Upon the Government of the Turk (1656). In seventeenth-century France too there were several publications which influenced opinion throughout Europe; the Ottoman Empire was at this time a still powerful entity and perceived by Christian Europe as a real threat.

During the eighteenth century, Ottoman decline allowed European powers to play the Ottoman government for their own (often conflicting) political interests. At the same time, literary attentions turned to the Ottoman territories as it became easier than before for travellers to go to Ottoman regions, particularly Istanbul, to satisfy their curiosity and fantasies about the ‘mysterious East’. A distinct fashion in literature became clearly established around 1775-1825 (Brown, Wallace, Cable 1936, pp.70-80). Among other well-known English travel writers of the period were Lady Mary Montague, Charles Thompson, Richard Pococke, Lord Baltimore, Richard Chandler, Elizabeth Craven, and Rev James Dallaway.

The negative image of the Turk in the West derived from the religious fanaticism of Crusaders who were taught to see Muslims as children of the devil or heretic followers of an impostor.

The word ‘Turk’ was thus mainly used either as a generic name for an Islamic state with its characteristic military and government institutions, or as a description of negative character type, of someone by instinct cruel, heartless, etc.

The best known literary images of Turks appeared in Elizabethan plays which used Turkish history as source material, generally turning on conflict or opposition between Christians and Turks. Simon Shepherd (1986, p.142) makes this interesting comparison between the ‘Turk’ and the ‘father’ figure in what he calls the Marlowe period.

There was a fashion for plays about the Turks (and other Islamic nations) in late Elizabethan drama. Similarly, many plays centred on the figure of a father, whereas after the 1590s young men became central. Turks and fathers are topics specific to the Marlowe period, although they are not necessarily connected…

Another significant analogy in those plays is made between Catholic cruelty and Turkish. In other words, Protestant propaganda could designate the alleged cruelty of Catholics in general and Spaniards in particular as Turkish. This contrasts with Foxe’s address to Protestants when he spelled out the true reality of religious intolerance among Christians: The Turk with his sword is not so cruel but the Bishop of Rome on the other side is more fierce and bitter against us…. Such dissension and hostility Satan had sent among us that Turks be not more enemies to Christians than Christians to Christians, Papists to Protestants… (quoted in Shepherd, 1986, p.144)

In most plays sensuality seems to be the dominant characteristic of the Turks. The plots of tragedies in particular turn on various ‘Turkish’ characteristics such as cruelty, revenge, intrigue, pride, passion, terror, treachery, and the like. The Turks are portrayed as the embodiment of such excesses in, for instance, Marlow’s Jew of Malta in John Mason’s The Turks, in Grevilles Mustapha, etc.

In other plays, a somewhat different Turkish stereotype is the figure of the wicked tyrant who is always either a Turkish Sultan or Pasha or general. He usually separates two virtuous lovers (the male character is the Christian Westerner, and the female one is a naive Turkish beauty) after becoming infatuated with the girl he has kept in his possession through force. The strength of the woman’s fidelity to her true lover is either rewarded by God with a happy reunion with him, or she prefers death to the tyrant’s love. Yet another stereotype is the intriguing woman who provokes rivalry among the courtlers enamoured of her. These rivals vie with each other to obtain her love but all fail, losing their lives in the struggle. (Aksoy n.d.,pp.343-8)

In the course of the nineteenth century as more and more people of different occupations and with different objectives travelled to Turkey, the use of these images and myths about the Turks in literary texts reached its height. It was quite the fashion to visit Ottoman lands in order that the travellers might, as it were, confirm for themselves, myths already mediated to them about the Turkish people, their culture, religion, language, etc.

Vathek, originally composed in French and published in London in 1786, was written by Beckford, who had not even once visited the region he was writing about. He used his own family home as the primary setting for his Eastern tale, colouring and transforming it with the resources of a vivid imagination; he is reported to have said: ‘I had to elevate, exaggerate, and orientalize everything’ (Beckford, n.d., p.9). The work reflects the characteristic themes of ambitious quest for power, sadistic sensuality, sexual perversity, etc., developed through a number of scenes and episodes and all wholly imaginary.

Having regarded Vathek as a model for his own work Byron chose a Turkish setting when telling a tale of horror during a contest with Shelley, Mary Shelley and himself. He set his story about a vampire in Izmir: this betrays all too clearly his association of Turkey with crime, horror and cruelty (Prothero, 1902, Appendix IX).

The Western image of the Ottoman world would, of course, be quite incomplete without the various feminine motifs of the veil and the harem and their associations of secret and/or forbidden eroticism, alongside vague notions of something religiously and culturally bizarre. The overwhelming impression from the nineteenth century travellers’ and Orientalists’ writings is that the women of the country were lecherous and voluptuous under despotic repression. In Byron, again, the heroines of the Turkish Tales, Leila, Zuleika, and Gulnare are represented as the beautiful, helpless victims of a despot for whose sake the Western protagonist, or the Byronic hero, confronts his antagonist. The romance turns upon ‘rescue’ from the ‘veil’ (the hidden) and the ‘harem’ (the forbidden).

During the year of the war (1854) and after, many Europeans of diverse professions came to Istanbul and witnessed the Ottoman Empire at the moment of its complete helplessness and (despite the rhetoric of modernizing reforms) inefficiency and administrative incompetence. All of which contributed to the final disenchantment with the myth of the powerful Turk. The books written at the time express a general disenchantment with the East, but particularly with the Turks, which was largely brought about by the defeat. Istanbul, once the fairy-tale location of the East, became the focus of that disenchantment.

Almost as a natural consequence of the Turks defeat, their image in the West shifted into often contemptuous, demeaning caricature. This is particularly noticeable among some Victorian writers such as Thackeray and Charles Dickens.

Thackeray satirizes the Oriental romance and the realities of travel in ‘Punch in the East’, a series of articles he contributed to Punch, and mocks the Byronic romanticization of Turkish themes in ‘Mehmed Ali and the Sultan’ (Spielmann, 1899). Dickens, in his ‘Roving Englishmen’, debunks the sea voyage to Istanbul through his description which ends ‘Oh no! we should have been off anywhere but in Turkey’ (Household Words, 1854-56, IX, p.143). Also (p.142) he describes Turkish soldiers–once powerful, barbarous, cruel, etc.–thus: ‘There is no enthusiasm in martial ideals of glory. Our friends will go listlessly into the battle and listlessly out of it.’ He adds; I know that in saying this, I am not according to popular or agreeable sentiment. The romantic notions of a Muslim warrior are very different; but I know the Turkish soldier pretty well, and pity him sincerely for I know the causes which have sunk him so low.

References

• Aksoy, Yildiz (n.d.) ‘The Turks in 18th Century English Theatre’ unpub. diss. Erzurum: Ataturk Unýversity, Dept. of English Language and Literature.
• Bisbee, Elenor (1951) The New Turks: Pioneers of the Republic (1920-1950), Philadelphia: Unýversity of Pennsylvania Pres.
• Brown, Wallace, Cable (1936) ‘The Popularity of English Travel Books About the Near East; 1775-1825’, Philological Quarterly, 15, p. 70-80.
• Shepherd, Simon (1986) Marlowe and the Politics of Elizabethan Theatre, UK: Teh Harvester Press.
• Beckford, William (n.d.) The Episode of Vathek, London: Stephen Swith.
• Prothero, Rownland (ed.) (1902) Byron’s Works: Letters and Journals; London: John Murray.
• Curzon, Robert (1897) Monasteries of the Levant, London :Georoge Newnes.
• Spielmann, Marion H. (ed.) (1899) Contributions of W.M. Thackeray to Punch from 1843 to 1848, London: Harper and Brothers.
• Dickens, Charles, (1854-1856) Household Words; IX.