One more Konya/NATO story

NOTE: "talking about the fellow I met in Konya brought something else to mind, so here it is.

The flight deck of the E-3 NATO Airborne Early Warning Aircraft has an extra position called the Fifth Seat. This is where a fortunate volunteer gets to sit, watch the actions of the flight crew, and keep looking in all direction for an approaching object that the various forms of radar missed.  It's particularly important on take-offs and landings, when there can be all manner of small objects capably of reducing the aircraft into a mammoth paperweight. Mostly, it's a chance to get up where the best view on the aircraft lives.

One day, I was Fifth Seat from our Main Operating Base at Geilenkirchen to our Forward Operating Base at Konya. We had a Canadian Major aboard as Second Officer who had never flown into Konya. Naturally, he wanted to take the aircraft in to demonstrate his prowess. Just as naturally, the Pilot, who was a Turkish Lieutenant Colonel, was having none of it.Somewhere during the flight, the Canadian decided it was all because he was a "Bible-believing born-again Christian" and the "Mohammadin" didn't want to "be shown up by a member of the superior faith." The pilot had to pull rank in order to bring the Canadian back into line.

So we are cleared to land at Konya, The Pilot turns on final, levels the aircraft, briefly removes his hands from the controls, says a quiet prayer placing himself, his crew, and the aircraft within the protection of his G-D, places his hands back on the controls, and completes the landing. And the Canadian? Mr. Born Again, with the "In Case of Rapture, this (whatever) will be unmanned" on his car, his motorcycle, his guitar case, his computer, and his desk? The guy who preaches at a little congregation off-base? He goes totally batbarf. He's screaming about how he's going to report the pilot for reckless flying, and how he's never flying with another "Crazy Mohammadin" again, and similar wonderful things.  The FOB Commander comes on board, talks to all parties, ascertains that the Canadian was clearly in the wrong, but sees no reason why he, a Christian, should apologize to a Godless Heathen. That's what he said, yes he did. I didn't know (until recently) that people still used that kind of language. In rapid succession (and by rapid, we're talking a matter of a very few hours), phone calls are made to Geilenkirchen, a replacement Second Officer is dispatched on the next outbound aircraft, the young Major gets a bus ticket to Ankara, where a commercial airline ticket will be waiting. By the time he gets back to his squadron, he has orders for another assignment, and the Commander of the Canadian Contingent is explaining how it would be a very good idea to seek success in another line of work.

In a quarter century of travels for the USAF, I found a lot of people who lived their faith without having to think about it. I also found a lot of people who were happy to tall you about the depth and sincerity of their chumship with G-d. These were never the same people.

When I was seconded to NATO, I spent a number of Temporary Duty tours in the city of Konya, in Turkey. Being and administrative (non-flying) type, my team and I were unable to use the accommodations in the NATO compound on base, and had to rough it in a hotel downtown, commuting by shuttle bus. Dinner was late most nights, usually followed by a planning session, and I frequently had trouble getting to sleep. Fortunately, you go out the door, make a couple of left turns, and you're at a working-class cafe that serves coffee, pastries of many descriptions, and similar goodies.

One night/morning, I was reading a book while noshing my way through something with honey, nuts and strange spices, and a fellow about my age asked me if I was American or British. I replied that I was American, working for NATO, and with a team of two Brits, a Greek, and a Nederlander. Thus I was bilingual in Oxford English and the American dialect. Translation was an actual additional duty for me, and for a Canadian Major who claimed both Oxford and Eastern Standard were just degenerate forms of the "pure English" of his native Newfoundland. 

My new friend was a teacher at the local Uni, just finishing off doing a night class to pick up extra cash, and had some questions about various colloquialisms. His subject at Uni was Management, which I taught through the on-base campus of a couple of American colleges, so we wound up talking well into the candle hours of the morning. After that, I made it a habit to visit the cafe most nights.

I got a chance to learn about an academic's life in a fairly conservative part of Turkey, and he wanted to know how American methodology for undergraduate and graduate instruction differed. This was in 1990 and 1991, and he had far more in the way of dealing with religious sensitivities than I did, although the parallel, increasing syndrome in American classrooms is one of the reasons I was just as happy to depart teaching ten years later. I had greater latitude in linking to sources and ideas outside the field, but he was able to count on his students having a better grounding in language and history than mine. Fascinating.

I promise, there IS a point of relevance. His family had come to what is now Turkey over 500 years ago, fleeing persecution by Jews and Muslims. They converted a century later, under the then-Caliph's "you're Moslem or you're dead" policy. Increasing problems in getting back home for religious obligations were also a factor. So here was a guy who was able to help me interpret what I was learning about Islam from both an inside and an outside perspective. As far as his family was concerned, their religious identification was "good Muslims who are really Samaritans." There were Jewish and Christian groups in Konya. He has some friends among the latter, none among the former.

I must point out that Konya is the site of the Mevlana Museum, where members of that particular sect of Sufi honor their founder, and where one can always find members of the Mevlani available to provide teaching. It was, and is, a major pilgrimage destination. The tomb of Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi, is there, beneath the Green Dome. It was a mausoleum (and the first lodge of the Mevelvi, often called the Whirling Dervishes) from 1274 until 1926. A typical week had at least two off days, so (either with friends or alone) I had a wonderful learning opportunity over those temporary duty assignments.

We kept up a correspondence until fairly recently. The area was getting even more conservative and, like my own nation, the lack of religious tolerance was on a downward slide. Out of a possible excess of caution, I have not used his name. A couple of moves for him, a couple of moves for me, and the usual sort of thing happened. Cards on the occasional holiday, then nothing. I think of him every time I hear the Far Right try and present Islam, or any faith other than their own, as a monolithic block of automatons, marching in lockstep. 


I know an otherwise normal person who is convinced that Roman Catholics sprang fully organized from the pagan machinations of Constantine, and went on to subjugate the Western World until the Reformation brought us the King James Bible, only revealed source of G-d's word. I know another, similarly rational person who is convinced that all Muslims are Devil-worshiping child molesters who are going to be on the side of the Anti-Christ in the Final Days. I even heard a person, in what was supposed to be a civil discussion present the following argument "All the Priests are pedophiles, all the Rabbis are liars, and all the Politicians are crooks." The only place you can put your trust is in the ******** [church]." I used to tell that story and get a laugh. Now people argue about which religious denomination, order, sect, cult, or whatever is being cited, and then get into shouting matches for or against one of the choices.