From Gulen to Chomsky: A Journey of Intellectual Awakening
Growing up in a uniquely diverse household, my cultural and religious background was a rich tapestry. My mother, an Egyptian Jew, descended from a line of Kohanim on her mother’s side, brought elements of Judeo-Christian culture into our home. The Kohanim, a hereditary class of Jewish priests, added a profound layer of historical and spiritual significance to our family’s identity. My maternal grandfather was an Orthodox Coptic Christian, which further enriched our family’s diverse religious background.
My father, half Greek and half Turkish, had a heritage that added even more layers to our family history. His great-grandfather, originally Greek Orthodox, converted to Islam but still cherished his Greek roots, occasionally speaking Greek to make jokes or ask for water. Adding to this rich heritage, my father’s mother was a cousin of Osman Yüksel, also known as Serdengeçti, a renowned Muslim Turkish activist and writer.
My father came from the neighbourhood of Kasimpasa, surrounded by Turkish nationalists, Islamists, and a mix of other ideologies. Despite this environment, he remained a committed social democrat. He believed in the importance of engaging with diverse perspectives and allowed me the freedom to explore different ideological circles, including Gulenist groups. He valued education, dialogue, and the potential for moderate religious groups to contribute positively to society. His open-minded approach encouraged me to spend time within the Gulenist circles, seeing it as an opportunity for growth and understanding.
In contrast, my mother viewed Islamic circles with a sense of caution and disdain. Her own experiences and background made her wary of religious movements that she felt could impose restrictive norms or inhibit personal freedom. She consented to my involvement, trusting in my father’s judgement and hoping that I would benefit from the exposure to different viewpoints. However, her reservations added a layer of complexity to my exploration of the Gulenist world.
During my adolescence, I was deeply immersed in Gulen’s ideology. His teachings seemed to provide a clear path to spiritual fulfilment and social success, appealing to my desire for purpose and belonging. However, I later realised that beneath the surface, Gulen’s movement had a more complex and troubling agenda.
In the 1970s, Gulen was an active member of a Cold War-era anti-Communist group in Turkey, which was part of a broader geopolitical effort to counter the spread of Soviet influence. This group, like many others of the time, was deeply conservative and nationalist, operating under the ideology that supported a strong, unyielding state. Gulen was known for his ruthless attacks on the theory of evolution, viewing it as antithetical to Islamic teachings. He also became a staunch defender of the state, encapsulated by the Turkish proverb “ya devlet başa ya kuzgun leşe” (either the state leads, or the vultures will feast), and “devlet ebed müddet” (the state is eternal). These expressions underscored a belief in the supremacy and perpetual existence of the state, even at the cost of individual freedoms and rights.
Gulen’s political involvement was characterised by a pragmatic and opportunistic approach. He maintained strong ties with the Turkish military and political elites, never openly criticising them. This alignment with the state was strategic, aimed at protecting and expanding his movement’s influence. Gulen’s rhetoric and actions reflected a commitment to a hierarchical, controlled societal order where dissent was viewed as a threat to stability. Gulen’s secretive nature and hierarchical order were particularly concerning. He remains in an undisclosed location, surrounded by a close-knit group of loyalists, creating a barrier between him and his followers. Communication with Gulen was virtually non-existent for most people within the movement, and his decision-making process was shrouded in mystery.
One memorable incident during my formative years stands out vividly. At the age of 17, I found myself in a dialogue with my most beloved late aunt (R.I.P) attempting to convince her about Islam and the Prophet Muhammad. Under the influence of Gulenist teachings, I emphasised the belief that only Muslims could attain salvation and enter heaven. Despite my persuasive efforts, my aunt remained steadfast in her beliefs. She told me, “We are Israelites and strongly believe that the Ishmaelites were blessed by God with Muhammad and the Quran, even though we are speaking Arabic.” Her unwavering faith and respect for Islamic tradition demonstrated a profound sense of identity and interfaith respect that contrasted sharply with the Gulenist focus on conversion and ideological conformity.
Contrasting sharply with Gulen’s views, Noam Chomsky in the 1970s was a vocal and influential critic of war and imperialism. As an anti-war activist, he vehemently opposed the Vietnam War and was a prominent figure in the peace movement. Chomsky’s work during this period included a scathing critique of U.S. foreign policy, which he argued was driven by imperialistic motives rather than the promotion of democracy and human rights.
Chomsky’s opposition to the Vietnam War was not just about the specific conflict but was rooted in a broader critique of militarism and the use of force in international relations. He saw the war as a manifestation of U.S. efforts to maintain global dominance through military power, often at the expense of other nations’ sovereignty and the lives of countless civilians.
In addition to his anti-war activism, Chomsky was also a modern Marxist, applying Marxist analysis to critique capitalist societies and their inherent inequalities. He argued that the capitalist system perpetuated a concentration of wealth and power that marginalised the majority of the population. Chomsky’s writings on economics and politics exposed how economic policies often served the interests of a wealthy elite, while exploiting workers and undermining democratic institutions.
Chomsky’s commitment to human rights was unwavering. He was a ruthless supporter of human rights, advocating for the protection of civil liberties, freedom of speech, and the right to self-determination for all people. His work highlighted the hypocrisy of Western democracies, which often professed to support human rights while engaging in practices that violated those very principles. Chomsky’s critiques extended to the media, which he argued played a key role in propagating state and corporate interests, shaping public opinion in ways that served to maintain existing power structures.
Abdullah Öcalan, like Gulen, participated in anti-Communist activities during the 1970s. However, Öcalan’s trajectory diverged significantly. He became an early advocate for Kurdish nationalism and rights, founding the Kurdistan Workers’ Party (PKK) and leading an armed struggle against the Turkish state. Öcalan’s methods, including the use of violence and “by any means necessary” tactics, aimed to bring recognition to the Kurdish people and their struggle for autonomy within Turkey.
Öcalan’s role in shaping Kurdish identity and political consciousness in Turkey cannot be denied. His efforts led to increased awareness and recognition of Kurdish cultural and political rights, challenging the dominant Turkish nationalist narrative. Despite his controversial methods, Öcalan’s influence has been profound, sparking debates and negotiations about Kurdish rights and autonomy within Turkey.
Gulen, on the other hand, pursued a different path of influence within Turkish society. He strategically built a clandestine organisation within the state apparatus, leveraging his network to gain influence and protect his interests. His ability to navigate political circles and maintain covert alliances, including purportedly saving President Erdogan from a scandal, underscored his knack for political manoeuvring. Gulen proudly revealed and exposed how he helped save Erdogan before an intimate meeting with an “Alufte” (mistress), a meeting that was likely secretly recorded
However, Gulen’s clandestine network eventually fell afoul of Erdogan’s government, leading to a massive purge of Gulen’s followers within the state. This crackdown isolated Gulen, transforming him from a figure of influence to a marginalised recluse. As Turkish authorities intensified their pursuit of Gulenists, many faced imprisonment or fled into exile. Gulen himself remains in seclusion, a far cry from his earlier days of influence and intrigue.
Gulen’s approach towards other figures, including Abdullah Öcalan and even Erdogan, has been mired in controversy. He has been accused of employing racist and derogatory language against Kurdish leaders like Öcalan, insinuating their Armenian origins as a means to discredit their political movements. Similarly, Gulen has faced allegations of labelling Erdogan as a crypto-Jew with Armenian connections (Pakraduni), exploiting ethnic and religious prejudices to undermine his political adversaries. These divisive tactics further highlight Gulen’s contentious role in Turkish politics and society, where allegations of manipulation and bigotry have marred his once lofty reputation.
Gulen’s public statements have reflected significant contradictions and shifts in allegiance. At times, he publicly expressed sympathy for causes that seemed to contradict his private opinions. For instance, he showed support for Jewish children in Israel during Saddam Hussein’s attacks, yet within his inner circle, he allegedly disparaged Pope John Paul II and the Vatican as symbols of paganism, dismissing Christianity as led by a “crypto-Polish Jew.” While publicly praising the Pope as “Cenab-ı Papa Hazretleri” (His Holiness the Pope), he still permitted his close circle to propagate anti-Christian sentiments, suggesting that beneath the surface of the Vatican, one would find a crypto-Jew.
Gulen also made controversial remarks about the Ottoman Empire, claiming that its collapse was due to its tolerance, which allowed Jews to enter public, economic, and cultural life. He suggested that a similar fate awaited the United States, asserting that the acceptance of Jews into various aspects of life would lead to its downfall. He even referenced Hitler’s Mein Kampf, noting that Hitler complained about this perceived Jewish dominance.
Moreover, Gulen’s private meetings, some of which were reportedly recorded, were not publicly disclosed by his circle. His followers strictly controlled and suppressed the release of such private conversations, adding another layer of secrecy to his public persona. These inconsistencies and inflammatory remarks underscore the complexity of Gulen’s character and the nuanced nature of his influence over his followers.
Understanding Noam Chomsky’s concept of “Manufacturing Consent” and his “Five Filters of Media” has been profoundly important for me. Chomsky’s analysis reveals how media outlets, driven by economic and political interests, shape public perception and control the flow of information. His framework highlights how these filters — ownership, advertising, sourcing, flak, and ideology — skew news coverage and perpetuate the interests of powerful elites. This understanding has sharpened my critical thinking, enabling me to better analyse media narratives and recognize the subtle ways in which consent is manufactured in modern societies. Chomsky’s insights have been invaluable in fostering a more nuanced and critical perspective on media and power.
Chomsky’s critiques extended to the media, which he argued played a key role in propagating state and corporate interests, shaping public opinion in ways that served to maintain existing power structures.One of the most profound impacts of reading Chomsky was how it transformed my perspective on humanity’s future. Gulen’s teachings, though positive in some respects, ultimately demanded conformity to a specific set of values and norms. Chomsky, in contrast, advocated for progress rooted in critical inquiry, freedom, and equality. His work inspired a vision of a more just and peaceful world, driven by informed and active citizens who challenge the status quo. Chomsky’s influence extended beyond his intellectual contributions; he also exemplified a life grounded in integrity and familial love. As a family man, he maintained a strong bond with his beloved wife, Valeria Wasserman, whose care and support played a crucial role in his life and work since their union. This personal connection starkly contrasted with the isolation and secrecy of Gulen’s world, highlighting the importance of openness and genuine relationships. Today, as I write this article, I am saddened to hear that Professor Chomsky is hospitalised in São Paulo. The news of his hospitalisation fills me with sorrow and concern, as he has been a guiding light and a source of inspiration for many, including myself.
Recently, I asked my son a simple question: if he wanted to communicate with Chomsky (may God bless his health), would he be able to succeed? My son’s response was affirmative, indicating that reaching out to Chomsky, even given his status, seemed possible to him. When I posed the same question about Gulen, asking if he thought he could get in touch with Gulen, his answer was very simple and direct: “I don’t think so. I’m not able to get hold of Gulen.” This contrast highlights the openness and accessibility of Chomsky compared to the secretive and isolated nature of Gulen.
Reflecting on my journey, I appreciate my time with the Gulen movement for fostering a love for learning and a desire to understand different perspectives. However, it also taught me the importance of critical thinking and the need to question and scrutinise the motives and actions of influential leaders. My intellectual and spiritual journey continues, informed by a deep respect for diverse viewpoints and a commitment to seeking truth and justice in all its forms.
