The Nakedness

A dread that crept under me for much of my life finally revealed itself. It was a night that I will never forget. My sister and I had both driven home from Penn State for our week long spring break. We had not seen our parents in nearly two months, though we had spoken on the phone. When greeting my parents upon arrival, I instantly knew something was wrong as soon as I saw my father. The dread began to rise.

He looked old – just so old. How could his appearance change so quickly since I last saw him? As my sister and I unpacked the car alone, we both agreed on just how old he looked! “He has been dieting,” my sister told me. This was true, and a drastic weight change could make him look older, although his hair was noticeably thinner as well. My father also had been reportedly sick lately, and I know that this could also contribute to his drastic weight loss. Despite this, my family and I spent a pleasant evening together. We ate dinner and watched the film Captain Phillips, the story of a captain and father kidnapped by Somalian pirates, and his quest to stay alive.

It was when the film finished, and my sister and father both went to bed, that I stayed in the living room to chat with my mom. It was there that I inquired about my dad’s condition. I knew he had been ill, and that he has been having trouble with “back pain.” I was concerned. I urged that my dad should get himself checked out by a doctor, for what if his condition was something worse than what we realized?

“He has seen the doctor,” my mom told me.

“Well, what did they have to say?” I asked.

And it was then that the sorrowful secret could not be concealed anymore. My mother’s nonverbal betrayed her in those moments, and I knew then that there was something wrong. The dread filled the brief seconds before her reply:

“Dad has cancer,” the tears flowed through her eyes.

 It was a moment suspended in time, obliterating me raw.  

In the hours following such a cataclysmic revelation, there were a number of things that occurred. First there was the panic – the physical ill, the nausea, the shaking, and the physiological manifestations of the trauma. Then there was the release, the flooding of tears that simply cannot be repressed any longer. The tears came when I was alone; when the weight of my father’s impending mortality came to full realization.

Then there was the loneliness, a loneliness that penetrated to the core of my being. It was a loneliness that shocked me into awareness of my existence -- that stripped me bare before myself. I am reminded of Marlow in Conrad’s Heart of Darkness, describing the essence of such moments:

“It seems to me I am trying to tell you a dream -- making a vain attempt, because no relation of a dream can convey the dream-sensation, that commingling of absurdity, surprise, and bewilderment in a tremor of struggling revolt, that notion of being captured by the incredible which is of the very essence of dreams... No, it is impossible; it is impossible to convey the life-sensation of any given epoch of one's existence -- that which makes its truth, its meaning -- its subtle and penetrating essence. It is impossible. We live, as we dream -- alone...”

This isolation of our consciousness is perhaps true in all moments of our existence, but this reality of my loneliness was felt the deepest in such a moment of devastation. What I was facing was shared by my family, and shared by all others in the world who have faced devastation – and some much worse than my own – and yet the experience of it is always our own and no one else’s. Always our own to make sense of. My initial response was to reach out to someone – anyone – that I was friends with, to find some comfort, to cower away from this new reality. Any comfort was fleeting. It was a nightmare, a continuous state of disbelief that I couldn’t wake up from. I was forced to confront a world that I did not want to accept.

In those moments where I recognized my father’s own mortality, I also came in sight of my own, exposed finally in its nakedness. At first this nakedness brings an exhilarating freedom. All previous struggle and fear are reduced to trivialities, if not eradicated entirely. Past struggles become merely an illusion that is now liberated from the self. My lack of faith in a higher power – a lack of faith of an authoritative being or defined purpose to my existence -- is something that did not leave me in despair but only fueled my liberation. I scoffed at my social anxieties and fears of rejection. How could any of that matter in the face of this? It is a feeling of freedom that could inspire the world of man entire to do the greatest and the worst of things in such a moment. I felt like I could do anything. I felt reborn.

And yet this overwhelming liberation was simultaneously crushed by the devastation that enacted it. The cancer of my father was the one thing I most wish I could vanquish, yet my freedom as a being in the world was powerless to do so. Of course, I possessed the ability to campaign for a cure and other such projects, but it only goes so far. I now faced my ultimate master: death. I was both at the precipice of freedom and tyranny in their totality, all in one moment.

Days passed and my mind came down from these heights. Part of it was likely due to denial of my family’s situation, but some of it also came from coming to peace with everything. Unfortunately, the exhilaration of freedom soon left me. The social anxieties, fears of rejection, and the multitude of stresses of the world and all of its struggles came back to me, but not without a greater understanding of what was at stake. I wish I could greater harness that exhilarating sense of freedom – that understanding that we only have this life to live, and we must construct the world we wish to fulfill in the limited time we have. Deep within me I felt a strange fortune for all that transpired; not for the suffering of my father or family, of course, but for reaching a moment so early in my life where I understood the urgency of my existence.

And so where does this leave me now? I worry about my father’s health on a daily basis. I avoid close contact with him when I am sick. I examine him closely, a body once strong and healthy now rendered frail by his treatments. Every sneeze could be a cold, and every cold could be his death. A sense of uncertainty looms over my family. It is clear now that the only certainty is our death – a comforting guide of direction to our lives, albeit one with apprehension of its arrival. I lived a life of blanketed delusion, where my father’s health and being in this world was seen as a certainty, a pillar of my existence, when in truth this certainty never existed. The blanket had been removed; the pillar was but thin air. His future being in this world has an end, as does mine. It can come at any moment. And if we are to be eternal in this world, it can only be through others.

Don’t you see? My life in actuality has not changed. Total freedom and total tyranny have always met in my life as one, for it is inherent in my condition and in yours, and it always will be. Perhaps we only have the freedom to un-wrestle ourselves free, as Sartre put it; but we must embrace and reconcile our doom to push back against this fatalism, and to create with what we can. We often mask our nakedness, always hiding from the shock of ourselves. But when we are confronted with devastation, confronted with our mortality, all illusions of our condition dissolve.  

The Comedian and the Audience

“You can’t worry about what others think of you,” says every authority figure to our children. “Don’t worry about what others think!” It’s one of the most common pieces of wisdom always blindly espoused by others. There is of course an admirable ideal in what people intend in this wisdom: don’t be a slave to what others want you to be. But, in truth, what are we beyond the perceptions of others in reaction to our selves? What merit is our self-perception in the definition of our self? 

Take, for instance, a man whose project in life is to tell jokes and make people laugh and happy. The world he strives to create is a world of laughter and happiness. Unfortunately, one day he tells a joke with this project in mind, but the receiver of the joke finds the joke unfunny and offensive, to the point where the receiver of the joke is upset. This man then, at least momentarily, took part in creating a world of unhappiness. Perhaps this incident is rare, and the man goes on through life by pursuing his project by telling the same jokes and all is well. However, what happens if the same jokes continue to upset others in similar ways? The man is then an actor of unhappiness in the world, creating a world that is tragically opposed to his original project of laughter and happiness. The man is left with the choice of either continuing to make people unhappy, or to change his jokes. 

The point is that the intentions of the man in question are irrelevant, for the concrete measurements of his jokes and actions in the world are a force of unhappiness to others. Consequently, this man is, at least partially, defined as a man who brings unhappiness, not laughter, to others. Facing this he still can change his jokes to alter his projections into the world. Life is but adjustments. We adjust so our intentions match their concrete impact in the world, which can only be defined by others. Furthermore, it is the continuous struggle to have our self-perception match other’s perception of our self, for only then can we guide our actions to create the concrete impact that our intentions seek to fulfill. Man starts with an intention, a project that is enacted through an action, and a meaning that is ultimately given by others, the witness. 

Despite all this, is it really so simple? Is there no accountability of the witness to our actions? Is witnessing, the decoding of others’ actions, not an action itself? This is something more fluid and transactional. There must be a responsibility on the witness to properly apply the correct meaning to actions, for our reactions also determine a world just the same. This complexity is best illustrated in cases of oppression. The French interpreted the terrorism of the Algerians as acts of murder and chaos, without understanding the intentions of liberation in their actions. The failure of the French to do so left the French oblivious to the concrete oppression of the Algerian situation that in fact was propagating the terrorism. The oppressor is often the unreliable witness to the acts of the oppressed, for the oppressed’s acts often carries an intention and meaning prescribed by the oppressed that rebels against the oppressor. The oppressor remains oblivious to his oppression of the oppressed, because he sees the oppressed as inferior, and how can one oppress one that is unequal? Consequently, the oppressor remains oblivious to his own situation in the world. Therefore the witness must also strive to understand the intentions of the actor, so as to understand the situation that ultimately causes the actor’s actions and also the situation that is the witness’ own. 

But the Algerians still must ask themselves – were our intentions of liberation obscured in the acts of terror? Like the man whose project is to make people laugh and happy, perhaps we should change our jokes, change our methods and actions to fulfill our project. The ultimate question, which there is no objective answer, is what action can best bring about the world we wish to construct? Instead of violence, MLK lead by civil disobedience in the civil rights movement -- the white oppressors faced with peaceful actors who didn’t enact their intentions of liberation with violence. The white population viewed the images of docile, peaceful black people being beaten and brutalized as they harmlessly assembled – attacked with dogs, beaten with sticks, and sprayed with fire hoses. Those images revealed the concrete violence of the oppressors toward an oppressed. It was then clear to many white people -- the oppressing witness -- that the civil rights movement was not a cause defined by violence and brutality but one that was victim of it by whites, and thus the white witness finally realized the black cause of bringing recognition to blacks’ situation of oppression. 

It is ultimately alarming how ambiguous our actions truly are – meaningless without the witness. Like being itself, the action’s existence precedes its essence. Intentions of the actor merely creates its existence, but the witness gives the action -- and thereby the actor – his essence. So often our actions betray the notion of our self to others, but what actually is our true self? 

We live in a world of negotiated meaning of our selves and others. We must be both conscious of how others perceive us, and how we perceive others. A person’s actions are measured and defined by the witness, just like a comedian’s jokes are measured and defined by the audience. The actor must be conscious and critical, always looking to adjust his actions to best represent his project. The witness, likewise, must remain conscious and critical of his reactions so as to best understand the concrete situation that provides the actor the need for his project; ignoring such is ignoring the world that the witness too is situated in. We exist as beings bound to one another, our freedom tied to the freedom of others. The burden of responsibility to create meaning in the world lies with comedian and audience, actor and witness. 

JAWS: A Viewing Between a Father and Son

The days and nights following the reveal of my dad’s cancer diagnosis were mostly marked by a state of nightmarish disbelief and a shadow of sadness cast down upon my family. It was in those days and nights where I had to confront the world; where I had to examine and evaluate what was truly at stake; where I had to think through my situation, or else fall into despair. But no, I refused to fall into despair, for I saw nothing more pointless and revolting than the idleness that despair entails. Rejecting despair became my greatest responsibility for myself and for my family. Therefore, it wasn’t that everything in my life necessarily changed, but rather certain things finally became clearer.

One night that stood out was when my father and I watched Jaws together after my sister and mother went to bed. This was a film we had always shared, but on that evening it brought us together deeper than ever. The film itself of course features a protagonist, a father of two sons who is thrust against the will of a seemingly unstoppable force of nature -- thrust in defense of his family and his town. It is not just a shark. He must overcome fears, and become more than a sheriff in this situation. He must innovate and overcome, despite the odds, as he does in the film's climactic moments.

My father and I had seen the film countless times. We nearly knew it by heart. He reminisced with me about first seeing it during his high school years in the drive-in in 1975; a great year for movies, he said (and it was). He still remembered the invigorating pain of his girlfriend’s nails digging into his arm during the film’s scariest moments. Meanwhile, I discussed the beauty of certain shots in the movie, the slight yet effective meaning and visual storytelling conveyed in the simplest and seemingly most insignificant of scenes. Usually he would block out such analysis on my part, and I would typically block out such nostalgic musings from him. But on that night the movie took a backseat. On that night it was about us, and we listened.

 

He started discussing many things and many deeper things. As we were alone, he shared wisdom and he shared secrets. Secrets, not terribly dramatic but yet deeply significant, bringing tears to his eyes as he unveiled pieces of his being from within. An urgency flowed through him. He spoke as a man aware of his looming mortality. It haunted his words and his voice.

 

I will not share the secrets, because the secrets are not mine to tell. However, he did reveal something significant about our relationship that I never recognized before. He told me that in all our conversations he always tried to play devil’s advocate by taking the opposing position of whatever I supported. He explained that it was his way of making me more critical about my beliefs. I always naively reduced this behavior as some sort of almost spiteful contrarianism in the form of some father/son family banter. But upon revealing his true intentions I realized it was one of the most profound forms of nurturing a son could receive.

Truthfully, I have always felt a little at odds at how I view the world in relation to others. Especially in my younger days, I was dissatisfied with mainstream political positions, skeptical of religion, and skeptical of much of the world. I always perceived this skepticism, my “unique” way of thinking, to be my own. I would concede that I was influenced by certain thinkers and even institutions in what I believed; but the source of my vision of the world -- the how and why of my thinking and beliefs -- remained a mystery to me. A prideful part of myself considered this to be something innate in my being. But on that night I realized that the source of my thinking comes from my father’s best effort to will into me a skeptical and compassionate view of the world. I reflected quietly on this discovery as the film continued, a newfound sense of humility and gratitude within me.

And when the film finished, and when the shark and the unstoppable force of nature was gloriously eradicated, we both admired together what is a truly great film.

That night, during my shower before bed, I had a culminating realization within myself. No matter what happens with my father, he will live on within me. My father is, above all, the biggest influence in the shaping of myself, beyond school or university or friends or country or art or other admirable persons. My father will always be eternal through me. As I extend into the world, so does he.

He lives within me, as he does within "Jaws".

THE REPUBLIC OF TURKEY: The West's Bridge to the Islamic World?

by Andrew Patterson

As a developing country, Turkey has a fairly unique political history, especially for a country in the Middle East. Most Islamic countries in the Middle East are known for being heavily fundamentalist, theocratic, traditionalist and anti-West. However, the modern Republic of Turkey is a stark contrast to many of its neighbors. Previously ruled for over 600 years by the Ottoman Empire, the Turkey the world recognizes today began in 1923 when political leader Mustafa Kemal, later known as Ataturk, abolished the Ottoman Empire and installed new forms of government. Since then the country has gone through a vast array of changes with steady success but with its fair share of problems (McNamara, 2009, para. 2-4). Ultimately, however, what stands out about modern Turkey is that it is remarkably secular and modernized. Additionally, Turkey’s modern day political system features an executive, legislative and judicial branch. It has a constitution and it is considered a republican parliamentary democracy. This is a similar structure to the United States’ government, though Turkey’s legal system takes more influence from Europe (CIA, 2013). This begs the question then – should Turkey serve as model for other developing Islamic countries in the Middle East? Is Turkey the bridge, if you will, that the West needs to reach the Islamic world? To help answer these questions, one should examine the Republic of Turkey’s use of forced secularization and modernization through autocratic rule, how it affected women, and how it ultimately enacted a slow, gradual transition to democracy.

Initially, once the Republic of Turkey was formed in 1923, Ataturk became an autocratic ruler of the country (Handleman, 2011, p. 109). Ataturk’s biggest political change from the previous Ottoman Empire was initiating an immediate separation of church and state (Handleman, 2011, p. 109). Ataturk removed the rule of the caliphate (Turkey’s supreme religious leader) and the Islamic courts (Cagaptay, 2007, p.7). In addition, Ataturk also went beyond mere secularization of government by also instituting forced secularization of Turkish society. For example, “the government westernized the alphabet, clothing and nation’s legal code” while also restricting religious political groups for running for office (Handleman, 2011, p. 109-110).  By 1928 Islam was not even declared as Turkey’s official state religion (Cagaptay, 2007, p.7).

              According to author Soner Cagaptay, Turkey’s secularism differs from the United States’ form of secularism, and it is more modeled after Europe (2007, p.8). Cagaptay described this, writing, “Unlike American secularism, which has historically provided ‘freedom of religion’ to and for people fleeing religious persecution, European (French and Turkish) secularism (laicite), born in reaction to the domination of the political sphere by one faith, has promoted ‘freedom from religion’” (2007, p.8). This form of secularism created a “firewall between religion and politics” (Cagaptay, 2007, p.8). Author Yesim Arat expanded further on this, writing: “The secularism of the Republican state [of Turkey] has traditionally meant not merely the separation of religion and state but also state control over religion. Imbued with the conviction that the state represents the best interests of the people despite the people, the Kemalist reformers have aimed to confine religion to the private realm” (1998, p. 123).

            This drastic and autocratic forced secularization of Turkey’s government and society is perhaps the biggest thing that makes Turkey unique among developing Muslim nations in the Middle East. Typically a major source of oppression for Muslims in the Middle East has originated from theocratic government policies, such as the theocratic monarchy in Saudi Arabia or the ruthless Taliban in Afghanistan. In Turkey, on the other hand, Muslims arguably received oppression from a secular, autocratic government. While “urban middle class” citizens tend to support this secularization and modernization, citizens from rural areas have often opposed it (Handleman, 2011, p. 110).

            This issue is made even more complex and intriguing when one examines women’s rights in Turkey since the secular reforms of Ataturk. On the one hand, one can make the case that women’s rights have greatly increased. For instance, women were given voting rights after not having them previously under the rule of the Ottoman Empire. Contrary to this, however, Ataturk’s secular reforms have also arguably oppressed women in other ways; most notably, by banning the wearing of headscarves in public. Because of this, any woman that wants to attend university or work for the government cannot wear headscarves. However, by removing their headscarves women would also be going against their religion (Handleman, 2011, p. 109-110). The result of this government policy continues to marginalize women in Turkey instead of empowering them. Furthermore, although the policy is secular in nature, it also ends up persecuting citizens because of their religion. Additionally, although these reforms were designed to empower women, the standards for how women should dress and act were still being created by men; most notably, the standard set by Ataturk and the state (White, 2003, p.145). Author Jenny White described this, writing, “The Republican state determined the characteristics of the ideal woman and set up a monopolistic  system to propagate this ideal in a population that held often quite different values and perceptions of ideal women’s behavior” (2003, p. 145). Again, here lies an inherent contradiction of the secular reforms. The state simultaneously works to empower women, but it is dictated on the state’s terms, so any misgivings from the female population are suppressed.

Ataturk

Despite this, the autocratic nature of these secular reforms perhaps had a similar effect as autocratic economic reforms in other developing nations (though the key in all of these autocratic reforms is that power always needs to be eventually given up).To explain, although some women’s rights were suppressed temporarily by these reforms – a short term cost in rebuilding the structure of a society -- in the long run women’s rights and opportunities increased because of them. In addition to voting and civil rights, women were open up to educational, economic and political opportunities and power (White, 2003, p. 150-151). Author Jenny White even went as far to praise Turkey’s reforms as breakthrough for women across the world, writing, “The state feminist model … despite its authoritarian rigidity about what constitutes a modern woman, was groundbreaking and successful in allowing Turkish women to participate in society at all levels to an extent that unheard of in Europe or the United States at the time” (2003, p. 158).

            Furthermore, over time Turkey has become increasingly democratic.  Despite his initial autocratic rule, a major part of Ataturk’s plan for Turkey involved democracy (Cagaptay, 2007, p. 8). The only caveat to this was that Ataturk demanded Turkey to achieve secularism prior to achieving democracy (Cagaptay, 2007, p. 9). Author Yasim Arat expanded on this, writing: “A solidarist collectivist ethic served as a tool for modernizing reforms when appeals to individualism could not be effective as a means to [secularization and democratization]. … Interests of the community and the nation would come before the interests of the individual” (1998, p. 118). However, starting in the 1950s the government began allowing participation of religious political groups into politics, although at first they received heavy opposition and even suppression from secular government forces (Handleman, 2011, p. 110). Because of this, progress for religious political groups was slow, but in 2002 the religious political group known as AK was victorious in the 2002 national election (Handleman, p.110).

            Perhaps in the long run forced secularization and westernization through autocratic rule was what Turkey needed. In a region where religion and government have been so intrinsically linked – and where civil rights and educational, technological and economic progress has been suppressed in the name of religion – perhaps forced secularization was the essential first step in advancing Turkey as a freer society. This returns to the notion of a painful short term cost, but with eventual rewards in the long run. The key for Turkey, however, has been its slow, gradual transition from autocratic rule to democracy. For example, there have been three military coups since the government has started to have open elections in the 1950s (Lewis, 1994, para. 20). In fact, the Turkish military is strictly dedicated to preserving the constitution and by extension the continuing secularization of Turkey (Cagaptay, 2007, p. 9). However, according to author Bernard Lewis, Turkey’s history of military interventions is unique, writing, “What is remarkable is not that these interventions took place--that is, after all, the norm in that region and political culture--but that after all three, the military withdrew to its barracks, and allowed, even facilitated, the resumption of the democratic process” (Lewis, 1994, para. 20). Again, this highlights a gradual, if not occasionally painful transition.  

Compare Turkey then to countries in the Arab Spring, who through revolution launched their countries from autocratic rule straight into democracy.  While the Arab democratic uprising was initially endorsed by many, there is now arguably some serious worry in the West over the stability and legitimacy of the democracies in some of the countries where revolution took place. In Egypt, for instance, the religious political group the Muslim Brotherhood has risen as the major party of power, but unlike the AK in Turkey there is not a secularist military to keep the Muslim Brotherhood in check. The question then is will there be continuing protection of religious and civil liberties in Egypt for minority groups and women?  Furthermore, countries in the Arab Spring might want democracy, but do they actually want full secularization, westernization and all that it has to offer (Bloomberg, 2012, para. 26)? Is democracy out of sudden revolution sustainable? Author Bernard Lewis further explained the success of Turkey’s gradual transition to democracy, writing:

“Specifically, the Turkish experiment in parliamentary democracy has been going on for a century and a quarter--much longer than in any other country in the Islamic world--and its present progress therefore rests on a far stronger, wider, and deeper base of experience. The vicissitudes of democracy under the late Ottomans, under Mustafa Kemal Atatürk, and under his successors would seem to confirm the belief that democracy is a strong medicine, which must be administered in small and only gradually increased doses. Too large and too sudden a dose can kill the patient” (1994, para. 27).

            With this in mind, it is perhaps impossible to fully secularize nations in the Middle East. For better or worse, Islam is tied very closely to government and politics.  Despite many Muslims wanting democracy and modernization, there is still an apparent desire to keep religion and politics linked. This is also illustrated in Turkey with the election of the religious AK party. Even in the United States, which is deemed secular and representative of Western culture, there has never been a President that has not been Christian. In fact, there was controversy over President John F. Kennedy being Catholic, with Republican 2012 presidential nominee Mitt Romney being Mormon, and then the ridiculous (and bigoted) rumors of President Barack Obama being Muslim. The point is that, whether from the Middle East or the West, people often wish to bring their religious values into politics, because it is – again, for better or worse – arguably what gives nations a considerable part of their identity.

Furthermore, arguably what has made the West and Turkey successful as democracies (despite their shortcomings) is their prioritizing of secularism and safe-guarding against theocratic upheavals. Turkey’s use of forced-secularization and modernization through autocratic rule has allowed for gradual transition to democracy. As evidenced by the formation of the religious political group the AK, religion may never be able to be taken entirely out of Turkish or Middle Eastern politics – just like it may never be taken directly out of the United States’ politics – but if there is enough safeguards of secularism intact (even if it suppresses the wishes of people), then society has a better chance to prosper, making Turkey a fine model for developing countries in the Middle East.

Works Cited

Arat, Yesim. (1998). Feminists, Islamists, and Political Change in Turkey. Political Psychology, Vol. 19, No. 1, p. 117-131.  Published by: International Society of Political Psychology. Article Stable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/3792117

Cagaptay, Soner. (2007). Secularism and Foreign Policy in Turkey: New Elections, Troubling Trends. The Washington Institute for Near East Policy. P. 1-32. Retrieved from: http://www.washingtoninstitute.org/uploads/Documents/pubs/PolicyFocus67.pdf

CIA World Factbook. Turkey: Government section. Last Updated: 29 March, 2013. Retrieved from: https://www.cia.gov/library/publications/the-world-factbook/geos/tu.html

Gaouette, Nicole. (2012). ‘Arab Spring’ stirs U.S. Worries After Year of Turmoil. Bloomberg. Retrieved from:  http://www.bloomberg.com/news/2012-03-13/arab-spring-s-enthusiasm-gives-way-to-continuing-crisis-for-u-s-allies.html

Handleman, Howard. (2011). “Religion and Politics.” The Challenge of Third World Development. Pearson Prentice Hall. Special Edition for Penn State 2011. P. 109-110.

Lewis, Bernard. (1994). Why Turkey is the Only Muslim Democracy. Middle East Quarterly. P. 41-49. Retrieved from: http://www.meforum.org/216/why-turkey-is-the-only-muslim-democracy

McNamara, Melissa. (2009). History of Turkey. CBS News. Retrieved from: http://www.cbsnews.com/8301-18563_162-2213120.html

White, Jenny B. (2003). State Feminism, Modernization, and the Turkish Republican Woman. NWSA Journal , Vol. 15, No. 3, Gender and Modernism between the Wars, 1918-1939, p. 145-159. Published by: The Johns Hopkins University Press. Article Stable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/4317014