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Reconstructing 'Englishness'

Laurence Raw is a lecturer in Cultural Studies at the University of Baskent, Ankara.

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The concept of 'Englishness' and English identity has recently come under intense scrutiny. On the one hand, there are those who believe that, in the new 'federalist' Britain, established through the creation of the Scottish and Welsh assemblies, the English are the victims of a deliberate policy of discrimination. In a BBC programme Counterblast, scheduled for broadcast in April 1999, a sales manager from Leicester, Alan Ford, claimed that while every other ethnic group in Britain was encouraged to celebrate its cultural identity, Englishness was discouraged and usually linked with racism. He also alleged that 'the middle class media and intellectuals are forever sneering at England'. However, the BBC's controller of editorial policy insisted that the content had to be toned down before it could be broadcast - a decision which, in the programme makers' (and Ford's) opinion, proved that 'whenever you try to talk about Englishness, people jump on you and accuse you of being racist. And, hey presto, that's what happens.' (Daily Telegraph, April 1999) ¹

On the other hand, there are others who believe that, in order to survive, modern English identity needs to be reinterpreted in terms of the logic of globalisation. Antony Easthope takes note of the fact that globalisation has opened up new possibilities for the English in the late 1990s. For many young people, the notion of the nation-state has been replaced by a belief in 'nation-as-culture', as expressed through their 'inherited English discourse ... a discursive form with almost the full range of jokes, ironies, empiricist tropes and gestures' (Easthope 1999: 157). Jeremy Paxman, by contrast, believes that compared to the French ('the moment a Frenchman opens his mouth, he declares his identity'), the English 'speak a language that belongs to no one'. Yet this is something to be celebrated, not mourned: '[the English] seem not merely to have adjusted to the fact that they no longer control their language, but positively to exult in its growth'. Whilst 'the England the rest of the world knows is the England of the British Empire', the English have established a 'new nationalism', which is 'modest, individualistic, ironistic, solipsistic, concerned as much with cities and regions as with counties and countries' (Paxman 1998: 235, 263-5).

What Paxman is clearly attempting here is to reposition English identity in the new global space. Imperial expansion, from the eighteenth century onwards, was always associated with the nation-state - this is how England became synonymous with the British Empire. Expansion was both economic and cultural: as well as forging new opportunities for trade, English/British colonisers sought to consolidate their hegemony through education. In this respect, a schooling in English language and literature had a particular potency. Literary texts not only contained universal civilised values, but they could also perpetuate the notion that England was the centre of the world, or 'the mother country'. Once the children of the colonies had acquired the English 'tongue' (as represented in poetry, prose or dramatic texts), and subsequently passed their examinations, they could enjoy what Lord Macaulay described as

the vast intellectual wealth, which all the wisest nations of the earth have created and hoarded in the course of ninety generations. It may safely be said, that the literature now extant in that language is of far greater value than all the literature which three hundred years ago was extant in all the languages of the world together. (Macaulay 1995: 428)

But globalisation does not simply represent a 'freeing' of particular phenomena from the narrow confines of identity and/or nationality. On the contrary, it has to negotiate, and come to terms with particular local contexts and constraints. Paxman writes from an anglocentric perspective, in other contexts, the role of the English language, and the understanding of what the concept of 'Englishness' represents may be viewed quite differently. I want to demonstrate this by looking at the relationship between the introduction of English language and literature programmes in the Turkish Republic, and the Kemalist (i.e. Atatürk' s) vision of a national culture. Taking as his starting-point the idea that culture was 'a basic element in being a person worthy of humanity ... a creation of patriotism blended with a lofty humanist ideal', Atatürk hoped that the new national culture would encompass the nation's creative legacy as well as the best values of world civilisation, and thereby emphasise personal and universal humanism (Atatürk 1998). In pursuit of this ideal, the Kemalist republic implemented a policy of westernisation; and by doing so aligned itself with a specifically Eurocentric project of modernity, which, from the sixteenth century onwards, had been characterised by two paradigms. The first regarded western Europe as 'the culture of the center of the world system' (Dussel 1998: 4) - a super-hegemonic power acquired through conquest, colonisation, and the socio-economic processes that constituted the dynamics of the project - capitalism, industrialisation, educational and technical innovation. This provided the justification for the second paradigm, which formulated the phenomenon of modernity as exclusively western European, as Max Weber once observed: 'in Western civilization, and in western civilisation only, cultural phenomena have appeared which (as we like to think) lie in a line of development having universal significance and value' (italics mine) (Weber 1958: 13). The Kemalist Republic had no particular fondness for the English, or for English culture; but they did believe that, by establishing English language and literature programmes, they could expose students to the best values of world [i.e. European] civilisation. This may suggest a willing subjection to the colonising process; but the policy has been defended on the grounds that it embodied the Kemalist vision of a national culture, whose values were fundamentally different from those posited by the west.² I shall also show that the Kemalist focus on universal humanist ideals persists to this day in English departments, as many academics seek to resist what they perceive as potential threats to the stability of the national culture.

These distinctions between the way 'Englishness' is perceived, both inside and outside England, should have important consequences for anyone engaged in promoting Britain abroad. A recent pamphlet published by the British Council stresses that the organisation should maintain 'a strong and globally consistent identity . . [to] express our commitment to excellence' (British Council 1999: 2). What this paper seeks to prove is that the homogenising process of globalisation simultaneously reinforces diversity, however much the British Council postulates one view of 'Britishness' (or 'Englishness'), there exists a multiplicity of viewpoints as to what these concepts actually represent This may be perceived as a (re)assertion of cultural difference and distinction in the face of globalising tendencies. For anyone engaged in promoting Britain abroad, it is important to take account of this complex relationship between the global and the local, which allows for the construction or preservation of new transnational, national and sub-national cultural identities.

The idea of using linguistic reform as a means to construct a new Turkish identity appeared very early on in the history of the Kemalist state. It was discussed at the economic congress in Izmir in 1923, as a means to repudiate the nation's Ottoman past and within five years, the old Arabic script had been outlawed, and replaced by a series of 'new Turkish characters', based on the Latin alphabet. The Turkish Language Society (formed in 1932) adopted far more radical policies, in line with a general movement of secularisation and westernisation. They replaced Arabic and Persian words with purely Turkish words, borrowed from dialects, from other Turkic languages, and from ancient texts. Words of European origin remained intact - indeed, a number of new ones were even imported, to fill the gaps left by their Arabic or Persian equivalents. Despite numerous setbacks - and criticism from some intellectuals who advocated the restoration of Arabic and Persian words into the language - this movement achieved a final symbolic triumph when the Turkish constitution was translated into 'pure' Turkish and promulgated in January 1945.

This movement was accompanied by a rapid expansion in translation activity. The Ministry of Education established a journal Tercüme in 1940, with the express purpose of introducing the best of world literature to the reading public. Although the publication of translations based on western models had continued ever since the mid-nineteenth century, this was the first time that it had formed part of government policy. By rendering the universal humanist values of European literature accessible to a wider audience, translators would contribute both to the development of the language and the national culture. An editorial published to accompany a special issue on Goethe emphasises the importance of translating great literature into Turkish (Tercüme 1949:1):

Poetry is not only the product of a nation, but also of the world. Great poets like Goethe transcend beyond national boundaries by means of such poets, nations get to know, respect, value one another. So poetry is a language that can be understood by all nations ... Our translators have the opportunity to recreate his genius in their own language.

But how were translators to acquire the kind of cultural literacy, as well as proficiency in foreign languages, that would enable them to produce such works? In the Ottoman period, there had been several attempts to introduce some form of foreign language education, beginning in the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, when ambassadors travelling abroad took with them young Turkish secretaries, whose duty it was to study the languages of Europe - chiefly French - and to learn something of the ways of western society. Two new grammar schools were set up in 1838 at the Sultanahmet and Süleymaniye mosques in Istanbul; their syllabuses included provision for teaching French and modern subjects to pupils who ultimately would become government officials or translators. Five years earlier, the Sultan had created a 'translation chamber' (tercüme odasý), in the Sublime Porte (the central office of government), and subsequently opened chambers in other departments of state. These developments served to create a new élite who 'owed their first steps towards advancement to their knowledge of a foreign language. For the shopkeeper's son, as for the others, French was the talisman that made the clerk a translator, the translator an interpreter, the interpreter a diplomat, and the diplomat a statesman' (Lewis 1968: 118).

By contrast, successive Kemalist Ministries of Education introduced a far more systematic approach to foreign language education. Several university departments of foreign languages - known as philology departments at the time - were created, and with government support produced an impressive output of research and publication, together with new curricula based on western models. In the Department of English Philology at Ankara University (established in 1936), the origins of the four-year undergraduate programme could be traced back to Oxford University, combining basic literature courses (Shakespeare, the Romantics, the eighteenth and nineteenth century novel) with courses in English grammar and philology, Latin and Greek (Dixon 1991: 66-8). Several young lecturers, both from Ankara and Istanbul Universities, were sponsored by the Ministry of Education to undertake postgraduate work in Britain; having returned to Turkey, their experiences helped to develop new approaches to the teaching of language and literature (Uzmen 1998: 43-6). A popular technique, pioneered at Oxford and Cambridge during the late nineteenth century, consisted of giving students a series of 'philological notes' - a set of privileged facts about specific writers and their work. These notes had at least three advantages. Firstly, they could be covered by reference to basic editions and/or literary anthologies, if there was no time in lectures. Secondly, they relieved students of the immense burden of reading an author's complete works (especially difficult in a country like Turkey, where the works were unavailable, either in English or in translation) Thirdly, they lent themselves precisely to neat summary during examinations.

One of the most powerful influences on the teaching of English Language and Literature was F.R.Leavis and members of the Scrutiny group. Leavis himself has been described as 'that most potent of educators, a teacher of teachers. Young men whom Leavis taught ... became lecturers or schoolmasters' (Bergonzi 1990: 47). At least two Turkish lecturers - Vahit Turhan of Istanbul University and Irfan Þahinbaþ of Ankara University - are known to have attended his seminars; they subsequently played a major part in the development of English Literature studies in Turkey. For Leavis English Literature was the central discipline of the humanities; it embodied a tradition of universal values, which had been all but forgotten in a world obsessed with industrialisation, technology and mass communication. It was the literary critic's duty to re-discover and re-enact these values - humanity, religion, morality, creativity - through a process of responsive critical reading, inorder to demonstrate that 'literary criticism was culture's gift of wisdom to a blinded civilisation' (Bergonzi 1990: 52). If this task was successfully achieved, then perhaps readers and/or students might be encouraged to make the same kind of discriminating judgements for themselves. Although Leavis's focus of interest was restricted to English society and culture, his approach to literary study seemed eminently exportable to the newly-established departments of English in the Turkish Republic. He invested literary criticism with a clear rationale, transforming it from part of the profession of letters into a fully-fledged academic (and scientific) discipline - systematic and susceptible to proof. As Francis Mulhern remarks:

Where the prevailing modes of discourse in society were content to manipulate abstract 'counters', literary criticism held fast to the concrete and particular; where political and economic thought dwelt exclusively on 'means', literary criticism returned constantly to the problem of 'ends'. It was ... 'the keenest instrument we (i.e. human beings as a whole) have for the understanding of human values', and hence an indispensable control in the culture as a whole' (Mulhern 1981: 117-8).

The policy of importing English intellectual and moral values could be justified on numerous counts. Lecturers were encouraged not to imitate their western counterparts, but rather to develop their own approaches to literary criticism, as the writer/academic Halide Edip Adývar (who became head of the Department of English in Istanbul University) observed: 'Total and slavish imitation of a model is the very opposite of the spirit of Western civilization. This point needs special attention from late-comers to this civilization' (Adývar 1946:11). Only then could they contribute significantly to a new, progressive Turkey that rejected its Ottoman past in favour of the modern West. Having completed their training at a British university, lecturers were expected to return to Turkey and start producing original work for themselves. At Istanbul University, for instance, a 'Shakespeare Seminar', led by Adývar and Vahit Turhan produced a series of Shakespeare translations in the 1940s and 1950s. These translations, which aimed for linguistic simplicity, in order to communicate the plays' humane values (even if that meant using prose rather than verse), included commentaries, notes and lengthy critical introductions; and ultimately helped to initiate serious scholarship in Turkey. Hamlet (1941) was the first translation of the play to be rendered from English sources; it was used in a production in the same year that ran in Istanbul for a record-breaking fifty performances (Paker 1986: 98).

These kind of projects have been described by Akbar Ahmed as part of 'the Muslim modernist phase', in which the leaders of many Muslim states engaged with European and/or British cultural values, and subsequently utilised those values in the best interests of the communities they represented (Ahmed 1992: 30). In this context, a translation of Hamlet, produced in 1941 according to current Turkish linguistic norms, represented a challenge to the authority of the original English text, once the translators had interpreted it within their own system of cultural meanings. Leavis was subject to a similar process of reinterpretation within the Kemalist project of modernism. Bernard Lewis observes that Turkish reformers sought to adopt scientific methods of education, as 'modern [i.e. European] civilization rested very largely on its scientific achievement' (Lewis 1968: 437). The Leavisite approach, with its emphasis on close textual reading, provided the initial impetus to analyse language and literature in a 'scientific' manner.

In the sixty years or so since the creation of the first departments of foreign languages and literatures, there has been a gradual tendency towards specialisation. English Philology departments have been transformed into English Language and Literature departments, concentrating mostly on literature. English language teaching is currently undertaken in a variety of institutions - private language schools, secondary schools, and university Hazýrlýks, or preparatory schools, which are designed to prepare new undergraduates for the rigours of their four-year undergraduate courses. In at least two universities, new departments of translation and interpretation have been established. What is most striking, however, is the extent to which departmental policies still appear to be dominated by Kemalist values. English is 'a universal language', which makes a significant contribution to 'the process of modernization' in Turkey (König 1990: 85, 90). However, any approaches to foreign language learning, which might have been developed with English and/or American learners in mind, have to be reinterpreted in the best interests of Turkish learners. Thus it may be more advantageous to teach 'the English language through local contexts which learners are familiar with', to prevent the possibility of 'serious socio-psychological problems' arising if learners have 'to develop a new identity through the target culture' (Özögül 1998: 25).

Once students have acquired competence in a foreign language, they may wish to take translation courses, focussing on 'the similarities and differences between the two languages [source and target languages]' (Tosun 1985: 134). This is part of the 'scientific research', which since the early days of the Republic has provided the rationale for most university curricula. If this knowledge can be acquired, then a student can readily contribute 'to her own people and language through the introduction of some foreign writers and their works' (Tosun 1985: 131).

Alternatively students may wish to embark on a four-year programme of English Literature. Although they are dealing with foreign cultural products, it is expected that they should have acquired sufficient linguistic competence to prevent them from experiencing the 'serious socio-psychological problems' of the language learner. Studying English Literature should have a completely different effect on them, as they are exposed to its humanising influence: (Doðramacý 1999: 15):

Students of English Literature are much more understanding, much more tolerant, and open to new ideas. In general, they do not like violence .... [Literature] should bring people together ... and to be open to criticism.

Many of the theoretical developments, which have ultimately challenged and/or discredited Leavis, appear to have been seamlessly accommodated into the modernist project. Most English Literature curricula include at least one, if not two literary theory courses at the undergraduate level - the focus is mainly empiricist, consisting of a series of fact-based lectures on major western theorists, which students have to learn and reproduce in examinations. Given time and encouragement, students should use this knowledge to develop their own approaches to literary criticism. Himmet Umunç, co-ordinator of a 'Criticism Study Group' at Hacettepe University, Ankara, observes that

Our teaching of literary criticism has so far been diachronic, that is, they [the students] have an historical perspective of literary theory; but they do not yet grasp the concept of synchronicity - that is, the structural aspect of theory, and its application at a particular moment. This is what students need to learn in the future; to focus less on the historical perspective and to find out more about how to use a particular theory in the study of literature. They will engage in more applied criticism, and not simply reproduce previously-learned literary theories. (Umunç 1999: 7)

My first lecture was about contemporary British Culture. I gave some bare facts derived partly from Arthur Marwick's book Culture in Britain Since 1945 (1991), making comparisons with the Turkish situation for the students to have a better understanding both of the issues under discussion and of the context in which they occur by making them see things from a more universal perspective and/or in a global framework. My method was to bring to their attention that while a certain issue was being taken up or had become dominant in Britain, something else, some other issue was more important in Turkey or in other parts of the world; or the same issue or phenomenon may have appeared in different countries at different times within the same century or decade or time bracket.

It is clear that members of literature departments, as well as those who teach English language or translation, are interested in English, or 'Englishness' only if such material serves the interests of the Kemalist Republic - and even then, they would prefer to treat it from a universalist, rather than a culture-specific perspective. The main justification for this lies in the belief that, particularly in recent years, it has become necessary to resist potential threats to the Kemalist project of modernity, both outside and inside Turkey. In a recent paper, Chris Rumford has suggested that 'Instead of official national identity it [globalisation] encourages multiple popular identities ... Modernity and nationalism are under threat from 'the globalising trends and high technologies of the market ... [which] ensnarl the country with all their energy and unruliness'' (Rumford 1999: 7). One of these popular identities is a new form of Islamic modernism combining industrial and cultural expansion with a regulation of social life 'that would ultimately guarantee the constitution of a 'virtuous' society'' (Atasoy 1996, Magnarella 1998). To counteract these possible dangers, many Kemalist-oriented groups, including literature departments, have forged 'a new consensus that makes communication across social, political and theoretical divides possible while upholding the universal principles of truth and justice' (Bozdogan and Kasaba, qtd. in Rumford 1999: 12).

At this point, it might be asked: exactly whose 'universal principles of truth and justice' are being described here? For the pioneers of western language and literature departments, the answer was fairly straightforward; such principles were located in the cultural products of European modernity - for example, F.R. Leavis's literary criticism - which appeared to be the embodiment of 'civilised' values. Although this suggested a willing subjection to western imperialism, it could be defended on the grounds that, once these values had been internalised, Turkish academics could challenge the whole discursive field in which they had been produced and reproduced.

In recent years, however, universalism has been equated with Kemalist modernism, promoting respect for and loyalty to the nation-state. The thinking here is very similar to that of the American conservative E.D. Hirsch jnr., who wrote in the late 1980s that 'if we had to make a choice between the one and the many, most Americans would choose the principle of unity, since we cannot function as a nation without it.' America may be proud of its pluralist traditions; nonetheless its culture contains shared values, such as 'a civil religion that underlies our civil ethos ... We believe in altruism and self-help, in equality, freedom, truth telling, and respect for the national law' (Hirsch 1987: 95, 98-9). Whereas contemporary English identity may encourage respect for local and regional cultures at the expense of the specifically national, many academics in Turkey prefer to approach such developments through the 'universal principles of truth and justice', embodied in the Kemalist project. They may appear to be resisting, rather than accepting western values.

The word 'seems' is important here. To criticise Turkish academics on this basis is to assume, once again, that western modernity (or, in this case, postmodernity) occupies the centre of the world system. The modernist project is still alive and well in Turkey (as in other parts of the world) which, as Frederic Jameson observes, should remind us that the 'liberation' associated with western values, 'can also be experienced as a threat and a force of disintegration of traditions from which new and alternative possibilities might otherwise have been expected to emerge' (Jameson 1998: xv). Many of the Turkish academics quoted in this paper are cultural policy-makers - past and present deans, or heads of department - who have set the educational agenda for many years, and who still have an important role to play in forming the images that the Turkish nation presents both to itself, and within the international arena. In the light of recent developments, particularly in the political field, these policy-makers have been forced to re-examine their objectives and strategies for achieving such objectives. A recent book Rethinking Modernity and National Identity in Turkey suggests several factors have contributed to the fragmentation of Turkish society - the rise of radical Islam, the re-emergence of Kurdish nationalism, and globalisation (Bozdogan and Kasaba, 1997). It is the cultural policy makers' responsibility to restore confidence in the Kemalist project by eliminating such 'threats'. On the one hand, they have re-emphasised the value of studying English literature and language from a Leavisite perspective, giving students access to the kind of universal human values which may teach them the value of tolerance and consensus; on the other, they have stressed the importance of such studies to the future well-being of the Turkish nation - hence the emphasis on learning English from a local perspective. Both approaches may be considered old-fashioned, or even parochial by European standards; from the Turkish perspective, they represent a continuing commitment to modernism.

By contrast, some of the most recent formulations of English identity, such as those outlined at the beginning of this paper, may appear unimportant to Turkish academics. Two interrelated conclusions may be drawn from this - first, that identities are constructed in relation to varying others. Jeremy Paxman contrasts the 'new nationalism' of the English with the 'England of the British Empire' known to the rest of the world. Compare that with the nationalism of Turkish scholars of English Literature, which can be defined by their understanding of Leavisite criticism, their commitment to Kemalism, and their determination to shy away from Islamic modernism. Secondly, it may be fruitful to consider identity in terms of identifications, a series of concerns that people 'recognise' as their own at any given moment in time. This not only enables one to show how different narratives are constructed around particular phenomena - Leavisite criticism, for instance - but also demonstrates how such phenomena can signify a community of which individuals imagine themselves a part. This strategy also enables one to conduct a wider analysis of discourse in which any texts become, in effect, social texts providing fields for identification (Bowman 1994: 138-42). Such identifications are also subject to constant change over time and space. It has become a site of conflict, not restricted by national or cultural boundaries, in which identities are defined and redefined.

Notes and references

Adývar, H E (1946), Turkiye 'de Þark, Garp ve Amerikan Tesirleri, Istanbul: Remzi Kitabevi

Ahmed, A S. (1992), Postmodernism and Islam, London: Routledge.

Atasoy, Y (1996), 'Islamic Revivalism and the Nation-State Project: Competing Claims for Modernity', Internet site www.epas.utoronto.ca

Atatürk, M K (1998), 'National Culture in Turkey', website address: http://www.ataturk.com/ culture.htm

Bowman, G (1994), 'A country of words: conceiving the Palestinian nation from the position of exile', in Ernesto Laclau (ed), The Making of Political Identities. London: Verso: 138-170.

Bozdogan, S., and Kasaba R. (eds.), Rethinking modernity and national identity in Turkey, qtd in Chris Rumford, 'When the global and the local meets the universal and the particular: interpreting Turkish identities'

Bozkurt, B (1998), 'The future of English Departments in Private and State Universities', Hacettepe University Journal of English Language and Literature 7: 3-6.

British Council (1999), 'Identity Standards', London: The British Council.

Daily Telegraph (1999) 'BBC tones down Englishman's counterblast', 14 April.

Dixon, J (1991), A Schooling in 'English': Critical Episodes in the struggle to shape literary and cultural studies, Buckingham, Open University Press, 1991.

Doðramacý, E (1999), interview with Laurence Raw, British Council Newsletter, May 1999: 15.

Doðramacý, E (1989), 'Turkish Cultural Values: Identity and Religion', unpublished lecture, Hacettepe University, Ankara.

Dussel, E (1998), 'Beyond Eurocentrism: The World-System and the Logic of Modernity', trans. Eduardo Mendieta, in Frederic Jameson and Masao Miyoshi (eds.), The Cultures of Globalisation, Durham and London: Duke University Press: 3-32.

Easthope, A (1999), Englishness and National Culture, London and New York, Routledge.

Hirsch, E.D., jnr (1987), Cultural Literacy: What every American needs to know, Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company.

Jameson, F (1998), 'Preface', in Frederic Jameson and Masao Miyoshi (eds.), The Cultures of Globalisation, Durham and London: Duke University Press: xii-xvii.

König, G Ç (1990), 'The Place of English in Turkey', in Deniz Bozer (ed.), The Birth and Growth of a Department, Ankara: Hacettepe University: 85-95.

Lewis, B (1968), The Emergence of Modern Turkey, 2nd edn., London: Oxford University Press.

Macaulay, T (1995) 'Minute on Indian Education', in Bill Ashcroft, Gareth Griffiths and Helen Tiffin (eds.), The Post-Colonial Studies Reader, London: Routledge, 428-30.

Magnarella, P J. (1998), 'Desecularization, State Corporatism and é lite behavior in Turkey', in Anatolia's Loom: Studies in Turkish Culture, Society, Politics and Law, Analecta Isisiana XXX, Istanbul, The Isis Press: 233-57.

Menteþ e, O B (1998), 'The Experience of British Cultural Studies in Turkey', Journal for the Study of British Cultures: 85-94.

-------- (1999), 'People and Places', interview with Laurence Raw, British Council Newsletter, July 1999: 7-8.

Mulhern, F (1981), The Moment of 'Scrutiny', London: Verso Editions.

Özögül, E (1998), 'Turkish students' perceptions of American Culture: Implications for target culture learning', M.A. thesis, Bilkent University.

Paker, S (1986), 'Hamlet in Turkey', New Comparison: A Journal of Comparative and Literary Studies 2 (Autumn): 89-102.

Paxman, J (1998), The English: A Portrait of a People, London, Michael Joseph.

Robins, K (1997), 'What in the world's going on?', in Paul du Gay (ed.), Production of Culture/ Cultures of Production, London, Sage Publications: 11-66.

Rumford, C (1999), 'When the global and the local meets the universal and the particular: interpreting Turkish identities', unpublished paper.

Tercüme (1949), 'In Praise of Goethe', Vol. 9 Nos. 49-51 January-June.

Tosun, C (1985), 'Teaching of translation at the university level: techniques and expectations', Hacettepe University, Journal of the Faculty of Letters 3.1: 131-4.

Umunç, H Interview with Laurence Raw, British Council Newsletter, January 1999: 7-8.

Uzmen, E (1998), 'The English Departments of Ankara and Istanbul Universities', Hacettepe University Journal of English Literature and British Culture 7, 43-6.

Weber, M (1958), The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism, trans. Talcott Parsons, New York, Basic Books.

Yücel, H-A(1940), 'Preface', Tercüme, Vol. I No.1 19th May 1940).

Footnotes:

¹ This incident was much discussed in the media: Ford himself was described as the "self-styled champion of English culture" (Daily Telegraph, 19 April 1999). The Daily Telegraph published the results of a Gallup poll survey, which showed that the English and the Scots were not as antagonistic to one another as Ford may have assumed (15 April 1999). [ Back to the text. ]

² cf. Partha Chatterjee's observation in respect to former European colonies: "The most powerful as well as the most creative results of the nationalist imagination in Asia and Africa are posited not on an identity but on a difference with the 'modular' forms of national society propagated with the modern West", The Nation and Its Fragments, (Princeton, Princeton University Press, 1993): 5. [ Back to the text. ]

³ For more on this subject, see Laurence Raw, "Translation in Turkey: Tercüme and the development of a national culture", unpub. paper given at the "Beyond Europe" conference, British Comparative Literature Association, University of Warwick, July 1991. [ Back to the text.

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