One of my daily chores was to send a translation of our day’s headlines to CNN International, which, at that time, carried a summary of the world press. My editor was anxious to boost our reputation by seeing our paper’s take on the news posted in the company of established international newspapers like El Pais, Le Monde and La Repubblica. This seemed an obvious strategy at the time, although not one that had occurred to any of our competitors -- and I remember being surprised by the utter astonishment of my colleagues on the odd days when it was our turn to win the lottery and it was the logo of our paper that was splashed across the television screen. In retrospect I realize that we were helping to break a curious taboo -- and in so doing, I believe, helping to raise standards of the ways news was being reported. Let me explain. Again, it seems obvious to say, but Turkish newspapers are in Turkish and certainly in those days were not really designed to be read by people from other nations. “Turkey for the Turks” is the motto that still appears on the front page of the country’s most profitable newspaper, and while this may be a fine statement of patriotic intent, it is not a concept that translates well. Imagine discovering “Deutschland für die Deutschen” on the cover of the Frankfurter Allgemeine or the warning “Don’t bother to read this if you’re not English” beneath the famous logo of The Times. If non-Turks are often astonished by the contents of a Turkish front page, then the implicit reply is that they are eavesdropping on a conversation they are really not meant to hear. So in those days, advertising our view on CNN of the day’s most important story, translating it into another language -- well, yes we were trying to make ourselves look important -- we were also sticking our heads out of the sand. We were waving our own flag but also inviting criticism.There is large and complex literature on the role of the press as a key component of nationalism. Historically, newspapers have been one of the key means through which individuals imagine a world outside their own immediate experience. Through the media we understand that our lives are interdependent with people we will never meet and we imagine a community of like-minded people who read the same headlines as we do as they gobble breakfast on the way to work. The press encourages us to be citizens of a nation and to be interested in the world. Yet while newspapers chide their readers to “think outside the box,” they also remind them that the “box” exits. The press can be a tool for drawing walls around nations and even within nations marking boundaries between “us” and “them.” Newspapers can be part of our “branding” as much our wristwatch or shoes. So where does that leave Today’s Zaman and why does it even exist? One answer is that it is a corporate bijou, a prestige project designed to make our parent newspaper Zaman look good. If so, it’s motive is likely to backfire as there is no easier way to make yourself look foolish than when trying to impress. And I don’t think that’s the reason why a group of writers and journalists for whom I have great respect have lent so much enthusiasm to this venture. Turkey is a nation that has declared itself engaged in a process of reform. It is redefining many of its values. It is re-examining the cherished notion of sovereignty as it negotiates with Brussels. It is rethinking international priorities as it eyes troubles in the Middle East. It is looking harder at the received wisdom about its history and traditions. At the ballot box, in the workplace or in meetings with teachers after school, it is redefining the individual’s relationship to the community and the state. This is not a time for “us” and “them,” for one set of truths for home and one set for abroad. So let me finish with the obvious. Today’s Zaman is an Istanbul-based Turkish newspaper in English. What this means may not be so obvious after all.
