RUTHFULLY YOURS

Professor Bardakcioglu is under a disciplinary investigation launched by the university’s rector for his tweet, in which he criticized the conquest of Constantinople in 1453.

After losing his job and being condemned and ostracized by his community, Bardakcioglu defined his deleted tweet as “an ugly and wrong expression that was not my own view.” The professor, sadly, apologized for telling the truth.

Publicly debating historical events recognized by most scholars in free societies is, in Turkey, a criminal offense. You can lose your job, your freedom or even your life.

Turkish state officials constantly claim there is nothing in Turkey’s history that they should be ashamed of, so they continue persecuting and jailing journalists or professors who express differing ideas, and slaughtering non-Muslims and non-Turks.

Erbay Bardakcioglu, a professor at Adnan Menderes University (AMU) in Aydin Province in western Turkey, was suspended after posting a tweet, in which he criticized the conquest of Constantinople, present-day Istanbul, in 1453.

Professor Bardakcioglu’s tweet, on May 29, read, “Today is the anniversary of the invasion of Constantinople, the capital of the Eastern Roman Empire, a magnificent civilization, by a barbaric and fanatic tribe.”

After the tweet caused an outrage on social media, Bardakcioglu deleted it.

The professor is also under a disciplinary investigation launched by the university’s rector for his tweet.

The university’s rector, Cavit Bircan, on his Twitter account, also condemned the professor and declared that he was laid off from his job.

Describing Bardakcioglu’s tweet as “unacceptable,” Bircan wrote on his Twitter account:

American traitors like these should be sent straight to Gitmo for hard labor….rsk
Disenchanted followers of the extremist group are trying to get out of Syria.

Disenchanted Islamic State members recruited from the West have increasingly been contacting their governments and asking for help in getting home, according to diplomats and a Syrian network that aids defectors.

Some have turned up at diplomatic missions in Turkey, and others have sent furtive messages to their governments seeking assistance in escaping from territory the extremist group controls in neighboring Syria, according to the diplomats, who represent six Western missions in Turkey.

The calls for help from Westerners come as Islamic State loses ground and faces fresh assaults on its Raqqa stronghold and on Fallujah, Iraq, where it has ruled for more than two years.

Some Westerners seeking to escape from Islamic State are fighters, and others are people who were enticed to move to the group’s so-called caliphate and declared their loyalty, and now find themselves in dire straits, the diplomats said.

“Their troops are now starting to leave. There are a lot of French people who are coming back,” France’s national intelligence coordinator, Didier le Bret, said at a recent security conference. “They’ve got a feeling it’s not going that well.” He said citizens of other European countries are also returning.

The Western diplomats said about 150 citizens from just their six countries have sought help to flee or did so on their own since the departures began to ramp up in the fall. The overall number of Westerners who joined Islamic State in Syria and Iraq and then returned home isn’t known, but Western officials have said several hundred fighters have come back to Europe. CONTINUE AT SITE

Two high-profile French novels, dissimilar in timing and tone, portray two influential visions of France in the future. Not just good reads (and both translated into English), together they stimulate thought about the country’s crises of immigration and cultural change.

Jean Raspail (1925-) imagines a racial invasion coming by sea, of rafts and boats taking off from the Indian subcontinent and heading slowly, inexorably for the south of France. In Le Camp des Saints (The Camp of the Saints, 1973), he primarily documents the helpless, panicked French reaction as the horde (a word used 34 times) “kept coming to join the swelling numbers.”

It’s a stark dystopian fantasy about the white race and European life that corresponds to fears articulated by no less than Charles de Gaulle, the dominant politician of post-war France, who welcomed non-white French citizens “on condition that they remain a small minority. Otherwise, France would no longer be France. We are, after all, primarily a European people of the white race.”

Camp also anticipates the notion of “The Great Replacement” (Le Grand Remplacement) conceptualized by the French intellectual Renaud Camus, which anticipates the quick replacement “of the historic people of our country by peoples of immigrant origin who are overwhelmingly non-European.” Roughly this same fear – of immigrants pushing the indigenous French people aside and taking over the country – inspires the National Front party, now polling close to 30 percent of the vote and growing.

Michel Houellebecq (1956-) tells the story not of a country (France) but of an individual (François) in Soumission (Submission, 2015). François is a weary, somewhat decadent professor of the decadent movement in French literature. He lacks family, friends, and ambition; although only in his mid-40s, his will to live has eroded through the ennui of take-out food and a procession of interchangeable sex partners.

When an ostensibly moderate Muslim politician unexpectedly becomes president of France in 2022, many radical changes to French life follow quickly. In a surprise twist, what begins ominously (a corpse in the gas station) soon enough turns benign (delicious Middle Eastern food). Lured by a well-paying and satisfying job with the perk of having access to marry multiple pretty, covered students, François readily abandons his old life and converts to Islam, which offers him the rewards of luxury, exoticism, and patriarchy.

If the 1973 novel never mentions the word Islam or Muslim, its 2015 counterpart dwells on them both – starting with the title: Islam in Arabic means “submission.” Conversely, the first book focuses on race while the second hardly notices it (François’ favorite prostitute is North African). One takeover ends hellishly, the other agreeably. The earlier book is an apocalyptic political tract disguised as entertainment, the later one offers a literary and sardonic take on Europe’s loss of will while not expressing animus toward Islam or Muslims. The one documents an aggression, the other a consolation.