Since much of my own ideological development took place in Turkey, and is thus more informed by Turkish definitions, I should probably define the terms "left" and "leftist". Mine isn't a narrow definition, but it is more narrow than Wikipedia's (which is cute in a lot of ways). Simply, I believe the terms admit a rejection of capitalism as a desirable economic system.
I can't place things on a political line, though I used to find this really nice, and then later, really convenient. Now it seems, well, childish. I think that Americans view the political spectrum like this:
A critical take on the line reveals the lack of any fixed political value, so the whole thing is only relative to itself. It wanders. For instance, Republicans can rail against universal health care, now, but to President Nixon it was a peachy idea.Also, the line mentions only the major American political parties and assumes that basic American political and bureaucratic structures are necessary, if not desirable (i.e. bicameral legislature, executive and judicial branches, standing army, capitalist economics). The line dismisses the parties' espoused political values or goals, and fails to account for the structures of power within the political discourse. In short, the line tells me nothing.
The line's usefulness lies in the ability, of people in power, to ascribe moral values (usually Good and Bad) to the objects on the line, and thus frame their political opponent(s) accordingly. If Left = Bad, and Democrats = Left, it follows that Democrats = Bad, and so on. In mathematics, this is called the transitive property, and it comes up fairly often in our absurd political theater.
I basically became a leftist when I watched how American small towns were being taken by the WalMart phenomenon. I was 20 and living in a small town. I had no ideology, just a budding sense that people with little control over their local economy, over their home, well, just aren't really free people. I didn't grow into my own as a leftist until I had lived in Turkey. Time spent studying the Turkish left helped me gain a sense of ideology where I am comfortable with the history of the global movement, the questions it answers, and those it does not. So, I find a different political line practical, though anything practical or efficient is hardly democratic or honest. Anyhow, here it is:
I won't talk about other political spectra, which are many and more complicated than just political lines. I want to get to the story:
I've heard talk of several conversations in which American leftists were pushed to prove that they really were true Leftists, or "Solcu", (I capitalize this because it sounds like a Platonic Form). I generally find Turkish people are much better informed about the political/ideological spectrum. This is probably a result of the myriad forces that have acted on Turks in the last century. Several, in no particular order: etatism, the Turkish military, other militaries, capitalism, colonialism, Islam and Political Islam, the left (everything from Lenin to Mao), ethnic conflict, etc. Go through all that, and I suppose a person would have a broader view of things. Then again, I may just have smart friends.
I've never been pressed to prove my ideological commitment, as such. Turks just seem to know where I'm coming from. On two occasions, Turkish friends have outed me as a leftist without my having said so to them, and both times when the subject of conversation wasn't remotely political. The reference to my politics seemed part of a strangely nationalist narrative.
"Look here, this is Democracy. Americans can learn from Turkey." The narrative goes. "We have Turks and Americans sitting and talking together; you are a socialist, I'm a Muslim, and he's a police officer. Where else could such diversity mingle than in Turkey?"
Even more telling was the reaction I once got when asking for directions. As I wandered in Kadıköy, on the Asian side of Istanbul, I got lost with a Turkish girlfriend. We were looking for the Nazım Hikmet Cultural Center, a beautiful memorial to the Turkish and communist poet, Nazım Hikmet. Someone was passing out political pamphlets nearby, and we asked for directions to the center, while taking one. The boy, who was my age but with a thick mustache, narrowed his eyes and in a rude tone said simply, "Why would I know that?"
I looked at the pamphlet, and realized it was for a MHP (Nationalist Movement Party) rally. The kid knew what we were looking for, and that if we were looking for a communist library and cafe, we were probably communists, too.
On the subject of proving yourself, a friend told me a story about his experience in Samsun. He was talking politics with the owner of a "menemenci". The place was, quite literally, a closet-sized shop, with some stools and a counter, behind which two men were cooking a Turkish scrambled egg dish on a propane stove. The dish, menemen, was the only one on the menu, and it is generally associated with the working class. My friend sized up the place, and the people patronizing it, and gambled he would meet some folks from his own political ilk.
The men couldn't believe my friend knew anything about the left, generally, much less about the Turkish left. After the formality of accusing him of being a spy, they settled down to actually discuss his politics and why he was a leftist, and his experience of being a leftist in the United States (Turkish leftists regard the US as a frightening and unstoppable fascist behemoth).
Their first question: "How long were you imprisoned?"
I haven't met a Turkish leftist who didn't go to jail, and most of them were tortured or spent several years in prison. It casts my own political beliefs, and those of others', in a new light... the subtext of course being, if you don't go to prison, you're not being politically active. Instead, you just have opinions. What good are opinions when you need to change the world?
No comments:
Post a Comment