After looking at this great empire of sin, and contemplating its strength and glory, I have been led to examine the predictions of scripture in respect to it […] And is it not probable that the success of these Christian operations will excite the rage of the enemy, and induce the beast, the false prophet, unconverted Jews, and hardened infidels, to. make one fatal struggle for the extermination of true religion […]? Woe to me if I ever leave this sacred calling, if I do not consecrate every faculty to my high profession. Ever may it be the language of my heart, ‘conquest or death.’

Recent studies in social and cultural history underscore the modern war experience as a crucial event in which the collective and the individual merge together in an extensive and demanding encounter. This challenging convergence can affect, question, or reshape social and political structures and shared collective identities, as well as different individual self-identities or sub-identities of small communities. This encounter is not molded merely according to the ability and coercive force of the modern state to superimpose its will upon its subordinated citizens; rather, it is formed by an ongoing negotiation between the state, through its various agencies, and the citizens, in order to win the latter's support and willingness to participate in the war effort. With the onset of general mobilization in nineteenth-century Europe, the need to persuade the citizens to join forces with the state produced many new forms of propaganda. An assortment of texts and activities conveyed the establishment's messages, with the intention to garner wide public support for the war's aims and to increase cohesion among its citizens. The various means of propaganda used by the state, combined with diversified responses from below, shaped the cultural arena of the war.

This essay analyzes arabesk, a form of popular music in Turkey, as it pertains to debates around culture, politics, and modernity. I argue that arabesk, rather than being limited to discussions of music as an aesthetic form, reveals important issues as to the historical unfolding of discursive patterns that still very much outline the boundaries of cultural debates in Turkish society. The historic changes of arabesk music corresponds to turning points in the cultural and political history of Turkey. Furthermore, following the historical trajectory of arabesk makes it possible to analyze large-scale transformations in the ideological landscape of Turkey. In order to understand the complexity of these issues, it is important to trace the historical foundations of Turkish cultural politics, especially during the early Republican era (1920-1950), which was formative in establishing and maintaining an extensive regime of cultural classification.

On the night of July 4, 2004, Greeks across the globe celebrated their national team's triumph in winning the European Championship Cup of the Union of European Football Associations (UEFA). The victory had been unexpected and the celebrations, which lasted until the next morning, largely spontaneous. Urban streets everywhere in Greece filled with people clad in Greek flags and in plastic replicas of Alexander the Great's helmet; cars hooted past, horns blowing to that well-known five-and-six-beat rhythm signifying soccer victory, the air thick with the bright fumes of celebratory crackers. In the towns of Thrace, where the majority of Greece's Turkish population lives, the scene was the same: loud, celebratory, and full of nationalist symbols. In Komotini, the capital of Thrace, minority members watched and listened, some with apprehension, others with excitement about the unexpected victory.

In Turkey there is currently a widespread public desire to narrow the extent to which parliamentarians are immune from the law. That desire is largely motivated by the perception that political corruption is widespread and that parliamentary immunity only serves to obstruct the fight against it. As a result, a number of political parties have based their electoral platforms on the promise to limit the scope of parliamentary immunity once in office. As of yet, none have carried through their promise and this has only served to reinforce the public view that parliamentarians see their immunity as a personal privilege. Irrespective of the merits of that charge, there is a genuine concern that confronts Turkish deputies, which means that they will be less likely to limit the immunity once elected. Their concern is that current law does not adequately protect civil and political liberties and that the judiciary is not yet sufficiently evenhanded in its treatment of political cases. In effect, the fight against political corruption has been frustrated in part because of the risk to free speech that exposure to the law might entail.