This article proposes a new analysis of yers in Polish and addresses the issue of how yers should be represented. Reviving the debate started by Kiparsky (1973), the article argues that diacritic use of phonological features is superior to phonological use of diacritic features. Since diacritic representation of yers misses generalizations, yers are better represented as floating melodic segments (Rubach 1986, Kenstowicz & Rubach 1987). The patterns of Yer Vocalization and Yer Deletion are derived without recourse to syllable structure constraints such as *COMPLEX-Coda. Yer Deletion applies at an earlier level than Yer Vocalization and is enforced by a distribution-based constraint. Yer Vocalization, on the other hand, is a context-free process that is driven by the need to parse segments in output representations.

The purpose of this paper is to examine the relationship of justice understood as a virtue to law and public policy. Is justice adequately understood in terms of virtue, or does the former also include certain rules—or laws—which constitute criteria of justice in human community? If the concept of justice includes the notion of rules as well as virtue, how are the two ideas related? At a more fundamental level, is justice, indeed, a viable concept in modern, pluralistic society?

In an effort to explore these questions we turn, first, to three contemporary ethicists who have attempted to ground morality in public life fundamentally upon the notion of virtue. The first of these writers—Alasdair MacIntyre—is a philosopher; the remaining two—Stanley Hauerwas and James M. Gustafson—are theologians. While each is deeply influenced by Aristotle and Aquinas, all three fail to give adequate attention to the relation of justice conceived as a virtue to law in the latter, particularly in Aquinas. The ensuing section of the paper is devoted to an analysis of the structures of justice as a requirement of collective forms of human life. Consideration of the structures of justice leads, in turn, to the question of the relationship of justice to law. Finally, it is argued that, from a theological perspective, justice is most adequately understood as a form of covenant and that the ultimate norm of justice is reconciling love. Justice is a human task which aims finally at the reconciliation of broken community and the achievement of new forms or levels of the common good.

The discourse of postwar modern architecture is dominated by historical accounts that easily describe the processes of modernization in Turkey during the Cold War as a unilateral flow of ideas and expertise from the United States. Yet, the relation between benefactor and beneficiary is much more complex. This article explores culture production as a state function and intellectual practice through which bureaucrats and intellectuals representing the state agencies disseminated Americanism as common sense in postwar Turkey. Drawing on the cultural activities of two parallel organizations, the Turkish Information Office (TIO) acting in New York and the United States Information Service (USIS) in Turkey, it illustrates how the intricate relations among ideology, politics, and architecture affect the practices of bureaucrats and their audiences in the process of culture production. Promoting ideologies of Americanism, these organizations simultaneously popularized American architects and their buildings to their audiences. The comparative analysis of two case studies, the photo book Talking Turkey by the TIO and the Architecture Series of the Voice of America Forum Lectures, demonstrates how the division created between information and culture as two separate functions of foreign diplomacy perpetuated similar divisions in architectural discourse such as the iconic and the ordinary.

This article argues that it is fallacious to promote the Turkish democratic experience under the Justice and Development Party (Adalet ve Kalkınma Partisi, AKP) as a model for the emerging Arab democracies. Despite the early political reformism of the AKP, an empirical analysis of the government’s recent crackdown on basic rights and freedoms demonstrates that the “Turkish model,” defined as a marriage of Islam and liberal democracy, cannot respond to the demands of Arab reformers. In this regard, the article falls into three sections. In the first section, assets of the “Turkish model” according to various actors are examined, which casts doubt on the emancipatory discourse underlying the promotion of the model. The second section proposes the term “leader democracy”—or, more specifically, “Erdoğanism”—as a way of denoting the governmental structure of Turkey as of early 2014. The final section depicts the current Turkish democracy in terms of the state of checks and balances and of basic political and social rights.

The literature of Europeanization claims that the EU transforms the politics of member and candidate countries through processes such as social learning and socialization. This article questions the emphasis of Europeanization studies on ideational factors by looking at the example of Turkey-EU relations. The reform projects undertaken jointly by the EU and the Turkish police show that the EU seeks to transform the practices of candidate country actors, rather than simply their ideas. Moreover, the candidate country actors are not only passive learners, but they also seek to modify the content of EU reforms according to their interests.

My own beliefs about human rights have always been grounded on very concrete icons and images. Around my neck, for example, I wear a pendant made by a political prisoner in Chile. I have been privileged to meet, through Amnesty International or church connections, prisoners of conscience such as Mr. Babu, the former vice-president of Tanzania, who testify to the efficacy of human rights advocacy from a center in the first world. In Zambia and Peru, I have seen little children, whose subsistence rights have been denied, being treated for malnutrition by staff from missionary clinics. These human images and icons have led me to concrete commitments which include active membership in two international human rights organizations: Amnesty International and the Roman Catholic church as a transnational human rights network of advocacy (I am referring not only to the Vatican's participation in the United Nations and its world-wide orchestration of refugee services through Catholic Relief Services but also to more local human rights networks such as, for example, the Vicariate of Solidarity in Santiago, Chile, or, in our country, the church-sponsored sanctuary movement for refugees from El Salvador and Guatamala).

In November 1963, John F. Kennedy, the first Roman Catholic President of the United States of America, was assassinated while travelling in a motorcade through the streets of Dallas, Texas.

The election of Kennedy was a significant moment in relations between religion and public life in this nation for, although Catholics were physically present on the continent over a century before Protestant's, the Protestant spirit clearly dominated the newly formed nation in positions of political and economic power well into the twentieth century.

But the death of Kennedy was also a significant moment, a moment in which religious sentiments and public concerns were fused. The grief that was felt nationwide betrayed depths of religious emotion usually reserved for the intimate spaces of family life. But this was the grief of a body politic for one in whose office the entire community, however otherwise divided, was symbolized. Moreover, the funeral, stately and elegant, came as close as any other event in the history of America to being a national religious ritual, even if conducted for many only through the conveyance of electronic media.

In standard architectural history surveys, the British Museum is portrayed as an example of nineteenth-century “neoclassicism”, or the “Greek revival.” Usually cited as among the motive factors in this revival are the writings about European travels and archaeological explorations in the then Ottoman lands of ancient Greece, as well as a general interest in Hellenic culture. Yet the cultural and architectural appropriation of the Hellenic is not analyzed in relation to the possible ties and tensions between European archaeological culture and the Ottoman response to antiquity. This paper is an attempt to align the British Museum’s “Arcadia in Bloomsbury” with the Ottoman Imperial Museum, Müze-i Hümâyun, in İstanbul, and to look at them afresh beyond the usual discourse of style. The paper analyzes the “neo-Grecian” “Temple of Arts and Sciences” in London, supposedly inspired by those in Priene and Teos in the Ottoman Empire, and the Müze-i Hümâyun, whose façade allegedly replicates the Sarcophagus of the Mourning Women, transported to the museum from Sidon in Lebanon by Ottoman officials, understanding them as charged manifestations of “correspondence” or “transfer” within the web of circulating ideas, models, ancient remains, travellers, and architects of the nineteenth century.