My intention in this article is to read Nazlı Eray's works in terms of her revision of the role and function of the Turkish intellectual. Eray's revision also serves as a critique of the Western notions of the intellectual, not only because Turkish definitions are influenced by Western debates, but also because she deliberately situates her writing in an international and cosmopolitan context. This article falls into three parts. The first part presents a general sketch of the tendency to particularize the universalist definitions of the intellectual in the West. From the 1920's to the present, the Western conception of the intellectual has moved towards a demystification and deprivileging of the intellectual's function and contribution to society. His image is reduced from an idealist and selfless leader who thinks in terms of the whole to a highly specialized expert in a limited field. In the second part, I show that the dynamics of defining the role of the intellectual in the Turkish context works conversely. From the 1920's to the present, the intellectual has been the spokesperson and implementor of specific ideologies, party or class politics. As embodied in İlhan and Batur's discussions of the intellectual, this is viewed as a problem in the Turkish context. The answer they propose to the supposedly blind and self-interested particularity of the Turkish intellectual is to push him toward a more universalist vision. I focus in this section on Atilla İlhan and Enis Batur because they have been vocal in the recent discussions of the role of the intellectual in Turkey. They are also symptomatic of the Turkish tendency to elevate the place of the intellectual. In other words, they are representative of the position undermined in Nazlı Eray's works. The last part of the article focuses on the ways in which Nazlı Eray deconstructs both the Turkish and Western narratives of the intellectual in order to reconcile a universalism of wide human definitions with the particularity of specific contexts and actions.

Ottoman poetry is an empty sign. It floats, unfettered by the correspondence between words and things conventional to the typically modern signification of historical realities. But the sign (under which many of the other written Ottoman humanities—philosophy, literary-critical writing, fine art literature, and thought in general—tend to be subsumed) is not exactly empty. It carries double, or overdetermined, meaning. Though empty of poetry the term Ottoman poetry does not, for most people, call Ottoman poetry to mind—it is full of other things in so far as the sign is “read” as a rhetorical figure, a symbol, an allegory of the national narrative. And since the middle of our century, at the latest, when the first generation born into the Turkish Republic had come of age, it has continued to be read this way. That is, the allegory continually displaces the reality. Either the poetry is not known and there is no poetry in mind to recall, or, if it is known, the experience of recall is overdetermined in ways that can be connected with the poetry only through an analysis of the history of its modern reception, probably beginning with Young Ottoman polemic c. 1860's-1880's.

The economic and political crisis which Turkey faced during 1977-1980 was resolved by an orthodox stabilization program adopted early in 1980, immediately followed by conventional structural adjustment measures and the military coup realized on September of the same year. The Turkish experience with orthodox stabilization and structural adjustment incorporates a number of specificities and it will be useful to recall them briefly.

First of all, the striking element of continuity in basic economic policy orientation which lasted from 1980 up till 1089 without any significant reversals should be emphasized. The personal role of Turgut Özal as Vice Premier in charge of the economy during 1980-1982 under the military governments and Prime Minister during 1984-1991, was a determining factor in this respect. Reversals and hesitations as observed in Latin American experiences due to differences between rival monetarist schools or between populist and right wing political groupings played practically no role for almost ten years in Turkey. The political pressures which resulted in a switch back to populism in 1989 —a theme to be investigated in this paper— marked, in our view, a drastic shift away from the policy model adopted in 1980.

On April 17, 1993 the Turkish President, Turgut Özal, suddenly died, leaving the Turkish nation in a state of shock and mourning. This situation lasted for almost a week, a time full of nationwide, activities in preparation for the final services which eventually were to culminate in the state funeral. It was only after this that Turkish society returned to normal everyday life, to watch its politicians haggling over Özal's political heritage. As outsiders to Turkish society living in Istanbul at that time we became participant observers of this atmosphere of rising collective solemnity. It was the symbolic dimension of the funeral preparations and the final services which principally aroused our interest, and these are, therefore, the main reason and focus of this article. As festivities always have a reference to the self-understanding of a community or a nation, we analyzed those images and signs which reached us through reading newspapers, watching TV, listening to the radio and the people, and through personal participation in the funeral service in Istanbul. Insofar as we conceptualized Özal's funeral as a collective ceremony that both mirrored and created this society's self representation, our focus gradually broadened. Proceeding on the assumption that the comparison of two similar events at different historical moments of a society will allow us to get an insight into the development of a society’s self understanding over time, we have chosen the funerals services for Mustafa Kemal, the founder of the republic, as just such a point of reference. This will give us an insight into the development of Turkey’s great political tradition, or, more precisely, into the changing construction of national identity on the part of the political elite. In choosing the funeral service of Kemal Atatürk as such a point of comparison we do so first of all because until today Turkish state and society have been deeply characterized by and identified with this leader's legacy, and consequently any change can only be measured by taking Kemalism as a point of reference.

The covering of women has become the mark of Islam's new visibility in urban Turkey since the 1980s. Women wearing long, loose overcoats and headscarves tightly framing their faces and covering their necks and bosoms are now a familiar part of the urban scene, as well as of university campuses. They are usually referred to as İslamci (Islamist) women, sometimes also as dinci (religionist), gerici (regressive), irticacı (reactionary), kara peçeli (black veiled) or türbanlı (turbaned). Thus in the lexicon of Turkish identity, these women constitute a group defined through oppositional terms, similar to such ephitets as “leftist” women and “femininist” women. The words “Kemalist” and/or “Atatürkist” women have concurrently gained new political significance in denoting women (often professional elites) who, as against the so-called Islamist women, proclaim their allegience to Atatürk and his principles, i.e. speak from a pro-western, pro-state, secular-nationalistic and gender egalitarian position.

The concept of “millet” rivals other ideas, such as “the ghazi state” and “the decline paradigm,” as one of the principal formations around which Ottoman historiography has been constructed. Significantly, it was the Ottomans themselves who originated, and manufactured powerful illusions around, each of these notions. Fifteenth-century post-Interregnum (1402-1412) historians probably invented the view that the Osmanlılar of the previous century had constituted the pre-eminent ghazi principality along the Byzantine frontier; late-sixteenth and seventeenth-century Ottoman critics certainly concocted the proposal that the state was decaying after a brilliant epoch under Mehmed II, Bayezid II, Selim I, and Süleyman I (1451-1566); and post-Tanzimat (1839) reformers formulated the construct of millet as a defining characteristic of Ottoman society. Modern historians have tended to accept these models rather uncritically; only recently have we begun to examine the contents and contexts of such Ottoman self-portraits.

Scholars engaged in the study of nationalism have often stressed an analytical distinction between the rise of nationalism and the growth of nations since nationalism, by its very nature, has always preceded the nation (Anderson, 1983; Gellner, 1983; Smith, 1983; Hobsbawm, 1990). In the case of Turkey, the rise of nationalist movements rooted in Ottoman Turkism has been well-documented by studies focussing on their pioneering leaders, publications and institutions. Efforts aimed at the making of a Turkish nation, however, coincided with the period following the establishment of the Turkish nation-state. This new phase of Turkish nationalism differed from the preceding nationalist movements of the late Ottoman era, in its concern with the consolidation of a form of its own. It borrowed elements from, but also deviated from, the expansionist, pan-Turkist tendencies of the earlier era.