Yesterday, I went out to lunch with a Jewish-Turkish friend of mine, whom I will refer to as “Z.” I met her quite coincidentally last year in the lobby of my building. I was having a conversation in Turkish with my children when she overheard the familiar language. Happily, she approached us and introduced herself as a fellow countryman, or rather shall I say, countrywoman. There was an immediate spark between us. It turned out that she is best friends with a childhood friend of mine (who is also of Jewish ancestry) that I have known since I was 7 or 8 years old. Basically, a friend whom I have known my entire life.
Z’s parents are from Istanbul, Turkey. Their ancestors are Spanish Jews who migrated from Spain after the Spanish Inquisition in late 1400’s. Z’s family has resided in Istanbul for more then ten generations. She is as Istanbulian as one can get. Z loves her country - Turkey; it is where her heart is, her roots are, her childhood, her womanhood, and all her memories belong. Although she is married to an American man, her four-year-old daughter speaks Turkish perfectly. Z is adamant that her daughter be fluent in Turkish, her mother tongue.
Z is smart, dignified and patriotic in a sweet and caring way. But yesterday, she told me several stories over lunch about her recent trip from Istanbul that both saddened and outraged me. She told me about a small group of thugs that were protesting in Taksim Square (the Istanbul equivalent of Times Square in NYC) and screaming “Jews out.” She told me about how she read articles espousing hate towards her religion. She told me about how, some people, in the country she loves has turned against Jews quite suddenly. She told me about the rise of anti-Semitism in general and how she felt uncomfortable in Turkey, her own homeland, for the first time in her life.
Z is such a patriot that she immediately tried to brighten it up with, “I love my country, I am a proud Turkish-Jew, I know this will all pass and it will never be really bad. There are great intellectuals, journalists, politicians and various others who have protested in response to the latest anti-Semitic wave.” She added, “The majority of Turks hate (the Prime Minister) Erdogan and want him gone.” I said “Amen to that!” I told her how sad I am to hear her say these words, about how Erdogan is turning Turkey into an Islamic state, about how he is disliked by many more Turks than meets the eye. I told her, I am not only sorry for non-Muslims but Muslims alike.
Her four-year old was with us during lunch, carefully watching and listening. Finally, she piped up and asked her mother “Why don’t we talk about something nice?” I am not kidding! I was shocked at how this little child not only understood that we were talking about sad things, but she wanted to change the conversation so that we could all look happy. So, that is exactly what we did! Thanks to her four-year old daughter….
This post is not about Israel, Turkey, Gaza, Palestinians or religion. I am not blaming or diminishing anyone’s pain. I am simply conveying a conversation between good friends. I remember my sadness and anger towards America when all Muslims were seen as terrorists, some were even attacked in the streets, and most were ridiculed for their belief right after 9/11… Let us Turks not make the same mistake. It is important to realize “pain” is universal.
I ask Erdogan, the Takism hoodlums, the Israeli government, Hamas and all of you, let us all change this hateful conversation, too… Let’s listen to the wise words of a 4 year old.