From NationalReview.com:
[size=4]Don’t Call Them Arabs[/size=4]
[b]Ramadan in Istanbul.[/b]
Who are these "Muslim allies" our State Department keeps talking about? Do we have any, in any fundamental, shared-values sense? [b]Millions of Americans saw the Arab street explode with joy on September 11.[/b] Millions more read excerpts from the government-controlled press in allegedly friendly Arab countries, all spitting out the same blame-the-West conspiracy theories — we "had it coming," "the CIA did it," "the Jews did it." Most of us drew the obvious conclusion: that "Arab ally" is, at best, an oxymoron. And beyond the Arab world, what? Leaders of Pakistan and Indonesia seem less Janus-faced than those in Arab lands, but American flags burned in their streets too after we struck back in Afghanistan. So it's tempting for Americans to think that "Arab allies" and "Muslim allies" aren't really all that different, and to want to put quote-marks around both.
Is that unfair when it comes to Turkey — a Muslim nation of 66 million? From a distance, Turkey looks like a Muslim ally for whom no quote-marks are needed. That, at any rate, is what the record suggests, and I tried to believe it. But doubts kept creeping in. Sure, Turkey is a member of NATO; yes, Turkey was with us in the Gulf War; okay, we couldn't have done what we've done in Iraq, then and since, without the use of her air base at Incirlik. All that speaks well for the Turkish government, and for the mighty Turkish military that keeps the Turkish government on the secular path laid out, 75 years ago, by Ataturk. But what, really, does it tell us about the attitudes and feelings of ordinary Turks? About the values on display in the Turkish street? [b]After Sept. 11 I checked and rechecked the wire services, but couldn't find a single report of Turks dancing in streets when the World Trade Towers came crashing down.[/b] I did, finally, find one report of a demonstration against our bombing campaign in Afghanistan, but it was orderly and small — hundreds, not thousands — and no flags were burnt. Still, I wasn't convinced. Was the Turkish street really sickened by the attack on America? Was the press just not paying attention? Or did they look, but see nothing, because Turks were too afraid of their own government to express their hatred of us openly, the way so many other Muslims did?
I couldn't be sure, so I decided to subject Turkey to my own test. It's the Flo-Jay tough-times tourism test, and what it measures is whether a vulnerable American proxy can feel perfectly safe and comfortable in that country — not just in ordinary times, but in tough ones, when the economy is tanking, the population is hurting, and Muslim religious feeling is running high because it's a holy month. Flo-Jays are frail little old Jewish-American ladies, and they make ideal testers because they're twofers-plus, representing both the great Satan, America, and the little one, Israel — as well as women. My own demographics are right for the job, and in November, the timing seemed right too: Turkey was struggling with a 70 percent rise in inflation and a 70 percent drop in tourism. So I packed up my tennis shoes and flew to Istanbul on Turkish Airlines during Ramadan. And — to make the test a tough one — for a Flo-Jay — I decided to spend my time there without coming within spitting distance of a luxury hotel or guided tour.
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