“It’s my fault, all my fault; I should’ve tried harder,” he said. A quintessential characteristic of his – always pinning the blame on no one other than himself.

They were closing us down; there was no more hope.

He had returned hopeful after the bidding: his paperwork had been in order, and he’d been at it for weeks, day and night. In fact, he hadn’t slept much since the great wave had hit them on the 16th of July. I recall seeing his worried sleepless face on the morning of the 17^th; he hadn’t slept a wink. He’d been up all night making “namaz” (prayers) for his country. He’d been confused by the events. The slowly emerging, dizzying “facts” confounded him.

The wave had been the talk of the staffroom in the days to follow. Some said that their country had just been making good progress and now everything, who knows maybe 10 or 15 years of building, had been lost, all in a single night. Teachers, first by the hundreds and then by the thousands, had been sacked, and their licenses revoked. I was shown a picture of a teacher with an angelic appearance who had been put to death because he had allegedly been involved in terrorism. The morale dropped with each passing day and the friendly smiles and warm greetings turned into frowns and drooping shoulders. I woke up each morning with a sense of angst and prayed for peace, justice, and truth to prevail in my colleagues’ country. The realization started setting in that they wouldn’t be able to return home that year. Their children would not be able to see their grandparents the next holiday. And with the school being shut down, they had no idea where to go. They told me that it’s become too dangerous to contact their families; people are being detained by the thousands. Some told me that their parents believed the news and not their own accounts of what had happened; a certain blindness had descended upon their countryfolk.

My colleagues are deeply patriotic. There were Turkish flags and laminated Turkish words labeling things and framed pictures of the Hagia Sophia and Istanbul on the walls of the school.

Talk about the failed coup eventually ceased in the staffroom and my colleagues refused to be dispirited further by it. Weeks went by and everyone kicked into survival mode. CV’s were being updated, job applications were being sent out in a frenzy, reference letters were being written, and my friends had nowhere to go. They were stranded or worse, they’d become alleged “terrorists.” My friends: terrorists? Ludicrous!

I’ve known them for over five years and the only allegation I could make against them is that they work too hard! Most work seven days a week. Our staffroom was open 24 hours and I’d often see them working in there as late as 11 at night. They had once compelled me to redo a video promo I’d made about the school just to insert a clip of the Prime Minister at the time, Erdoğan, and his wife who had attended a Turkish Olympiad (Türkçe Olimpiyatları) where Ghanaians had performed a traditional Turkish dance. Both Erdoğan and his wife were deeply touched. I’m not sure if I had gotten my facts straight… so he, Erdoğan, was blaming my colleagues of plotting against him? The reasoning behind this had confounded myself and my colleagues alike.

They’ve travelled land and sea to make other nations pro-Turkish and pro-Turkey. Never had I picked up on an ounce of resentment against Turkey from my devoted colleagues.

And when my colleague had exerted his final efforts and realized that the fight to keep the school open had been lost, he sighed and said: “It’s my fault, all my fault; I should’ve tried harder.” My heart broke upon hearing these words uttered by a man who teaches his students on weekends and until eleven o’clock at night to help prepare them for their exam the next day. My heart was shattered when I heard those words from the man who had learned to push on with his teaching responsibilities despite an onslaught of dengue fever, his shirt completely soaked and his eyes deeply sunken.  “You should rest Abi,” I said to him. “I will rest in the hereafter,” he stoically replied.

My heart was crushed when he still blamed himself when powers beyond his control had worked against him, the man who had once removed the tie from his neck and wrapped it up neatly and made it a gift to me following my comment about its beauty. How can my heart go on if the man – who took me to his unfurnished house, save for a mattress on the floor, to give me his own mattress when mine was infested with bed bugs – is labelled a “terrorist”? Tell me, how should I respond? What should I do to convince people that none of this is his fault, that he’s a man of peace, a teacher by trade and nothing more, that he’s nothing less than a saint? Tell me, what should I do?

Being an academic is not an easy thing. In many countries, it seems you are always between a rock and a hard place when you are in academia. Politics permeate the academic halls, where positions might be assigned or created for political allies. Besides this, as a faculty member your superiors have unrealistic expectations of you, such as excruciating teaching loads and a tough oral exam with professors in your field in order to gain some tenure. In recent years, Turkey has unfortunately been one of the worst cases where all these challenges have become unbearable. Arguably the biggest problem of Turkish academics has been the lack of freedom to become critical intellectual voices in public spheres. Academics’ speeches, actions, and political views have traditionally been monitored and tracked by the Higher Education Council or government appointed University Presidents. After the July 15, 2016 coup however, some academicians’ problems became more of a struggle to stay alive. Why were thousands of academics and tens of thousands of teachers fired and arrested for “taking a part in” a military coup attempt on July 15 in Turkey? I can’t find any rational answers.

The current difficult lives of academics are connected to the societal and historical understanding of authority in Turkey. After the coup d’état in 1980, Turkish society witnessed an era where the state and the government were taken as sacred concepts. A lingering tradition since the ancient Turkish states has been that people would rather avoid advocating for truth and morals when they feared doing so would come back and bite them through the cold force of an authoritarian state. Psychological and even physical lynches could and have happened since the power owners and patriarchs are always positioned to be the identifiers of “transgressors” and dictators of the “consequences.” Few people advocated for human rights. For instance, when a group of academics signed an ‘academics for peace’ declaration in January 2016, over 60 Turkish academicians were fired or punished for “spreading Kurdish terrorist propaganda and undermining the country’s national security.” There was no big public uproar, since anyone objecting to it would be demonized as “terrorist supporters.”

Speaking your mind, expressing your opposition, and writing freely have never been easy for thinkers and academics in autocratic regimes. Unfortunately, Turkey has become one such regime in which critical academics are among those facing collective hatred and punishment for their beliefs and views.

These same arguments were recently used as a social lynch for another group: followers of Fethullah Gülen, a Turkish cleric who lives in Pennsylvania. For the last five years since one the biggest corruption scandals involving cabinet members and President Erdogan’s son broke, each investigation has been shut down by Erdoğan with the accusation towards Gülen followers, aka the Hizmet movement, that they were plotting a coup attempt against the government. What followed was the complete overhauling of the police force and police education institutions with the suspicion that many Gülen followers had “infiltrated” their ranks. After the coup attempt on July 15, 2016, which Erdoğan described as “a gift from God,” he also shut down the military and purged half of all high ranking officers, along with thousands of lower ranking members of military, many of whom are still in jail now. 15 major universities were shut down, along with more than 3,000 other schools and hospitals. In the government sector, from health to judiciary, from education to academia, more than 150,000 lost their jobs and 80,000 were arrested upon accusations of being a member of a so called “terrorist organization” with such “evidence” as using free apps like WhatsApp or Bylock, or having Gülen’s books at home or having an account at a once successful bank: Bank Asya. Many reports of abuse and torture in jails emerged since then, and about 40,000 previously convicted inmates were set free to open up space for Gülen’s followers.[1]

Erdoğan’s regime easily demonizes others who are in the opposition by putting them into the “Gülenist” melting pot. For example, atheist religious history professor Candan Badem was first detained, then released, then fired from his job for belonging to the “FETO” organization, a dysphemism produced by the government for Gülen’s followers. The people in Turkey are silent about the genocidal actions of the government because the government has the power to silence even the journalists. Hysteria is in its peak as my own family tells me I cannot send them money from U.S., call them from U.S., or invite them to U.S., which are all received with suspicion by the government that you may be affiliated with the Gülen movement (Gülen has been a US resident for almost two decades). While there are serious claims that Erdoğan himself might have had a part in the coup to consolidate his power, no one including judges, prosecutors, (who are themselves jailed), or the media (Erdoğan shut down all opposition media and arrested over a hundred journalists) can investigate these claims fully. The judiciary system is also on complete lockdown: it made the news when a judge was arrested during his very own court hearing. On another account, as a judge couple were being arrested, their two children, one of them a toddler, were locked in the house from outside and left home alone until their grandparents arrived from a faraway city late at night and found them hungry and desperate. Of the other kids whose parents were arrested some were taken into state custody in unknown locations and not released to their relatives even though they requested them. A female journalist, Ayşenur Parıldak, reported being sexually harassed and tortured while in custody and being confined to a cell. A left-wing journalist, Aslı Erdoğan, was withheld from taking any medicine or being provided a cardigan despite her multiple serious health issues and cold prison cells. She and other left-wing prisoners got the same accusation. After her release, she is now in exile in Germany, awaiting the outcome of her court case in absentia.[2]

Universities were already struggling with favoritism and unfair practices in Turkey. After the so called coup attempt, all university presidents were called into a national meeting organized by the Director of Higher Education Council (HEC) in Turkey, who threatened them that he would take necessary actions against those who “act slowly” in purging Gülen related academics.[3] This was the start of the public statement and demonstration contest among universities where University Faculty Senates hastily wrote statements shunning the group and calling them FETO (abbreviated for “Fethullah Terrorist Organization”) as directed by pro-Erdoğan media, and walked in groups in the streets protesting FETO, while there was no real evidence, official prosecution, or trial. This public hysteria resulted in thousands of fellow academics being fired without any evidence or due process based simply on the lists of profiling done by Erdoğan’s regime officials. Worse, many unions were asking when these positions would be reposted so “other” citizens could apply. Obviously, again, no one was questioning the ethics of this situation, but rather trying to think of ways to benefit from it, whether by trying to replace them with their own kin, or reporting on others to get them fired. Their attitude was, “If you are not going to bite me, long live the rattlesnake, and bite others as you wish!” As an academic who proudly thinks academics can carry an identity to become the bearers of hard truths, this is especially scary to me; not only did academics in Turkey remain silent about social injustices, but some unscrupulous people helped perpetuate this silence by demonizing a group of colleagues. Of course those people proved their worthiness of being strong allies to the current hierarchical system of university presidents, who follow orders from the Director of HEC, who in turn is reporting to the government. It is obvious that this system cannot produce the next generation of critical thinkers and intellectuals.

Why do I care about this personally? Along with some of my friends, my brother, who is an academic, is currently in jail for an unknown accusation after the coup attempt. His wife, who was an entry level secretary within a small municipality, was the first one to be detained. Police stormed into their house 2 days after he and his wife learned they were fired from their jobs. Since the government increased the detainment period to 30 days we were under a big trauma after they took her, not knowing her whereabouts since no one was allowed to make any contact with her, including any attorneys. Was she being raped or tortured? Was she being beaten severely to get some kind of confession out? What is currently happening is similar to what happened in World War II or the Bosnian War where an entire system to protect basic human rights collapsed along with the judiciary system and sense of justice. Can you imagine the feelings of a helpless husband, mother, or father? Worse, can you imagine them having a 2-year old toddler screaming non-stop after witnessing the shock of his mother violently being taken from her family? Three days had passed when she was in front of the judge and the prosecutor for “being a member of a terrorist organization.” Seeing how fragile her health was, the prosecutor asked for her release. She was united with her son at last. However, those judges and prosecutors were shortly fired for not being ruthless enough to hunt all Gülen followers. We don’t know where she and her son is, since she left her town to avoid the trauma of being separated from her toddler, fearing they may call for her arrest again.

A few days after they released her, my brother was taken into custody. He was a shining star in his work, attending each and every conference in his area of expertise, publishing both Turkish and English articles. Philosophy was his passion. They released him after a few days of detainment and courts. Later, when the prosecutors were changed, they sent out another warrant for his arrest. He immediately turned himself in knowing he had nothing to hide. They seized his computer, all of his digital files, and his phone, and they were never returned. All of his academic work was gone. In the first five days of his arrest, his wife snuggled with his coat, refused to eat anything, and just lay in bed. Their toddler still is under a huge shock, and asks for his dad and does not understand why they had to leave his toys, clothes, and everything else he knew to be home.

Besides being permanently fired from their jobs with no social security, health benefits, and retirement without any due process, these academics are no longer able to be hired by any other company or institution due to official and unofficial orders from the government dehumanizing them. Their children who have terminal diseases got their Medicaid cancelled and denied any services at hospitals. They were left to become homeless, helpless, and hungry. “They will beg us to kill them,” Minister of Economy Nihat Zeybekçi said,[4] while a municipal director of AKP, the ruling party, said: “Let them eat tree roots.”[5]

The collective hatred towards and punishment of all opposition for their beliefs is reminiscent of Jewish genocide under Hitler’s regime. This incredible violation of human rights destroyed Turkish academia, freedom of speech, writing, and research, and caused social fractions and hatred among universities. To all governments and to the international community of academics: We must support the rights of these scholars and not let another genocide happen in Europe in the 21^st century.

[1] www.turkeypurge.com

[2] https://pen.org/advocacy-case/asli-erdogan/

[3] https://tr.sputniknews.com/turkiye/201607191023938783-yok-baskani-universite-feto/

[4] https://www.birgun.net/haber-detay/bakan-zeybekci-gebertin-bizi-diye-yalvaracaklar-122392.html

[5] http://www.hurriyet.com.tr/gundem/ak-parti-il-baskanindan-fetoculere-agac-koku-yesinler-40242531

Sight is one of the most miraculous things for which we can never be thankful enough. Our eyes serve as windows connecting our inner life with the outer world. In “Retina the Mind-Boggler,” Dr. Serranur explains the intricacies of the eye’s physiology. Despite many theories and scientific advances, we still don’t completely know how sight works. Scientists do know that the retina plays a crucial role in this very complex structure – so important, in fact, not every eye surgeon dares touch it.

Stem cell research has expanded our understanding of biology and medicine to once-unimaginable levels. Among the treatments for which the initial findings are promising are paralysis, Parkinson’s, diabetes, and even blindness. Despite these groundbreaking discoveries, many are not sure about how far we should go in genetic programming. Dr. Yorulmaz elaborates on this dilemma in “Embryonic Stem Cells.”

The question of how to handle refugees has been a critical issue throughout human history. Despite many regulations, international legal conventions, and technological progress, refugees still pose intractable questions to governments around the world. Last summer, when Dr. Sophia Pandya was visiting Greece to observe the situation of refugees there, the country suffered one of the deadliest wildfires of the twenty-first century, in which a hundred people died and more than a thousand buildings were destroyed. Greece has been the crossroads for many refugees, including, yes, many Turkish citizens, especially in the last few years. The Erdoğan regime’s clampdown on the Hizmet Movement and many others who oppose his autocracy has forced tens of thousands of Turkish citizens to flee their homes and seek asylum in Europe, the US, and elsewhere. Hundreds of thousands of people have been detained in these purges; thousands more are waiting their turn, as their freedom to travel has been illegally curtailed by the Turkish government. What is their crime? Association with a group that opposes autocracy and supports democracy. For many fleeing injustice, Greece has become the last chance for freedom. What Dr. Pandya saw there was representative of what the Hizmet Movement has been doing for decades: Turkish refugees reached out to victims of the wildfires and distributed food and other aid. This was their way of responding to the hospitality of Greek people, who opened their homes to refugees when, as described in this issue’s lead article, they were forced to flee “dark-spirited night demons who were overwhelmed by hatred, rancor, and enmity, and dejected souls growling with wrath.”

As the only Muslim woman in the room, outside their prayer circle, I was there to observe their prayer session by the invitation of my friend C. As they sighed and tried to find words to console and inspire one another, I could feel their despair about creating a more peaceful and understanding world. They were truly concerned about America’s position in maintaining peace in the world, but after the events of the last decade, they ran out of hope.

When they don’t have hope, what could they pray for?

Pitched into this darkness, I heard myself say, ‘Well, actually, I am feeling hope.’ There was an uneasy creak of folding chairs and tired faces. Their looks said, ‘Please, not another voice of denial…’ but they were kind enough to listen to what I had to say. ‘I think America has the greatest potential for peace,’ I continued. Glimmers of candlelight played across the eyes in the room. Having heard a Muslim woman say this was new for them.

‘Well, I think so because…’ I paused for a moment to search for the right words, and continued, ‘… because it all began with French fries.’ Once I saw their puzzled faces and the half smiles playing on their lips, I knew I had caught their attention to tell them my story. When I saw, for the first time, people calmly dipping individual fries into cups of ketchup with bare fingers, I had just arrived in America to go to the graduate school. I couldn’t believe that they used no forks, no toothpicks—just eating greasy fries with their bare hands. How crude, I thought. But then another foreign student from Morocco shared with me that in her country, people ate with their hands, too, and that eating with one’s hands enhances the flavor of the food. I saw her, also for the first time in my life, enjoy chicken biryani with her fingers. It was my first glimpse of just how wide the world was. It was the fragrance of my own budding tolerance.

After I saw how eager they were to hear about it, I continued my story. I told them I had come to the United States ten years before, on a college scholarship from Turkey. I’ll be honest. Before coming to America, I had never spoken to a person who was not Muslim, much less shared a meal with them. But here, in America, where I met fellow graduate students from India, China, Africa and Europe, I experienced first-hand that we could all live and eat in our own unique ways, learning side by side, and live in peace. My tolerance grew.

Then I walked in to the Islamic Center of the city I lived in. I saw different Muslims, from around the world, in different clothing, of different races, speaking different languages, bowing down in reverent prayer side by side. All those differences seemed like jewels and beads on an elegant dress, enriching and beautifying the fabric in harmony. It was a vision, and witnessing it, I felt such a profound peace. I thought, though they, my fellow Muslim brothers and sisters, dress or talk and eat differently, we all bow down in front of God the same way. We are all the same in the important stuff, and only different in the minor issues. What significance does it have if one eats with their hands, with a fork, or with a couple of chopsticks?

In later years, I was blown away when I witnessed how Christians worshipped at my friend B’s church. They sing, listen to the sermon, read passages from the Bible, which is considered a holy book in Islam and to be respected, and they get connected with the God. And when I noticed how the stories, values, and traditions we claim as ours were also shared by them, my first image of Americans collapsed completely. Before I came to this country, the only Americans I knew were from the movies and soap operas. Naturally, I thought all American women were blond, tall, and beautiful, and all the American men were tall, rich, and handsome. They didn’t have any financial problems, health problems, or any real-life problems; they had only relationship problems and cared about no one but themselves. This was the image in my head about Americans. How wrong I was! I was surprised and fascinated when I observed my friend B’s church worship, when I came together with other families from my son’s school for play dates, or when our neighbors invited us to their Thanksgiving dinner, and also when they came to ours for a Ramadan iftar. It came to me in a flash: Americans have similar family values, religious values, holiday traditions, and love and compassion for their neighbors, just as we do. They are not actors in a soap opera!

What is more, they welcome thousands of foreign students, scholars, refugees, and immigrants from many different countries around the globe each year. Every year Americans are exposed to many cultures, languages, and faith traditions, and hardly anyone is jumping down anybody’s throat for being different. Of course, there are occasional negative comments toward what is different, but even then, most people come together to neutralize that negativity with support and compassion. Different is viewed as richness, as variety, and as interesting. My own tolerance and appreciation of other cultures blossomed because of these experiences.

The United States can have a great ability to bring about peace, as I shared with the ladies that night, because American culture is already open, tolerant of religious freedom, and welcoming to people around the globe. These are the perfect ingredients for peace. America has the power to wage peace in other countries, not with war or fear, but with goodness, faith, acceptance, and aid, to build hospitals and schools, and create jobs and programs that acknowledge human rights and generate good will.

America has long been a mixed salad. Its unique blend of people from around the world, stirred together with mingling flavors, develops a taste for tolerance, for freedom, for the savory experience of diverse cultures living together. May our prayer in this post-9/11 world be this: that we move beyond the ineffectual and destructive politics of warfare and fear, and hold fast to the goodness and power of this nation’s moral tolerance, constitutional freedoms, and potential for peace. God has created us with this potential. More powerful than any military force, I hope my experiences of tolerance and good will in the United States offered a recipe for hope for my friends that night.

Just as in the case of this volcanic eruption, Harold Olcese, one of the finalists in The Fountain essay contest 2009, opens a window in this issue enabling us to see the brighter side of events. His essay is an empowering one and will inspire many to survive even the seemingly most tragic of all misfortunes.

However, chaos is more catastrophic not when a volcano erupts, but when individuals and societies “breathe resentment, swallow hatred, curse all that is deemed to be an enemy with a fixed and determined passion, as if programmed for fury.” The lead article portrays the chaotic drama of persistent denial vis A vis the mystical world of faith.

We learn in this issue that mountains-despite occasional explosions of lava from volcanic ones-are indeed the “water towers of the world.” Quoting from the article, 70% of the human population depends on the water originating from the mountains.

The Matter & Beyond interview with Dr. Katherine Marshall from Berkeley Center for Religion establishes the fact that millions of people still live in misery and at extremely low standards of living. According to Marshall, this imbalance can be solved “with a revival of some of the best traditions of spirituality.”

Another mountain involved in this issue of The Fountain is the famous K2, the world’s second highest peak. Bulut reviews Three Cups of Tea, a book which sold millions of copies, written by Greg Mortenson who tried to climb this peak. However, he ended up in a village where he was inspired to write this book telling of his fantastic adventure to build schools.

Please check out the essay contest 2010 announcement at the back of this issue. “What would you do if you were told you had only 72 hours to live?” is the theme of this year’s contest organized in cooperation with Ebru TV.