Many believed that the medium of academic deliberations is one of idealized situations and that actual life is never ideal. Davutoğlu, they believed, would fall into the practical necessities of the job. To be frank, I myself had my own concerns, but from a very different point of view. They believed the theoretician Davutoğlu would fail to embrace practice; I thought theory would be left master-less. They did not want to see the “professor” as the “minister”; I did not want to see the “professor” sacrificed for the sake of the “minister.”They were wrong, and I was wrong.
I had the chance to join Professor Davutoğlu’s current official trip to Croatia, Bosnia and Herzegovina and Syria and to observe theory at work: the professor minister. Believe it or not, it works!
Classical Greek philosophy saw a combination of a “philosopher” and a “king” as the ideal combination for a perfect ruler. Aristotle’s philosopher king was an almost utopian “super-man.” Al-Farabi translated this concept into Muslim political theory with a touch of “prophecy.” For him, the Prophet was the prototype of the philosopher king.
Davutoğlu is neither a professional philosopher nor a king, but he has that ideal combination of transcendental synthesis of pure reason and pure empiricism. The synthesis he managed to forge has even penetrated into the mentalities of the bureaucrats in his close circle. It has never been so nurturing to speak to members of the “foreign policy cabinet.” Ministry gossip is joined with deep analyses that occasionally reference the giant philosophers of the East and the West. His team must be the record-level reading team in the history of the Turkish Ministry of Foreign Affairs. I have been told that Minister Davutoğlu wears his professor hat occasionally and that members of his team spend some time sweating while answering his “test questions.” “Sometimes we spend extra time in front of our computers to prepare for possible questions,” one diplomat told me.
It seems that my concerns about the practice of swallowing theory were proved baseless in the Davutoğlu experiment. Professor Davutoğlu is safe and sound in the background of the oft-flying, overworking foreign minister. I observed the light in his eyes when he visited a Sunday school of the Muslim minority in Zagreb and asked students there some questions. When the mayor of Dubrovnik suggested that he should come and lecture at one of the four universities in the city, he received a straight “yes” as an answer. The mayor corrected Mrs. Davutoğlu, a professional gynecologist, when she said that the Davutoğlu family had four children, saying that she should count all the children she delivered as her children. Ahmet Davutoğlu added that his students are also his children.
One particular theoretical principle that fails to be implemented in practice is the ethical necessity of being morally consistent. In an interest-led policy environment, ethical considerations are often neglected. Davutoğlu’s team has heard time and again phrases such as “We can’t do that,” “But that is not right” and “We have a moral debt” from the driver of Turkish foreign policy.
A contrasting example will suffice.
Former British Prime Minister Tony Blair is said to have told the press that “they would find other excuses to invade Iraq had they not thought that Iraq was acquiring weapons of mass destruction.” This is exactly opposite of ethical foreign policy.
Davutoğlu is not a star in a dark sky. His understanding of foreign policy fits perfectly with the general worldview of Turks. A member of Davutoğlu’s team told me this about a European foreign minister, but I think it suits Davutoğlu better: “He is a person who can simultaneously think with both his mind and his heart.”
Our trip to the Balkans and Syria gave me the opportunity to see theory in action without any sacrifice from its momentum of growth.
