In Western Thrace Greece's Muslim population of broad ancestral heritage -- including Roma, Slavs and Turks -- finds unity and a safe harbor in Turkish identity. Today this minority population of 130,000-150,000, constituting approximately 1.3 percent of Greece's total population, persists in identifying as Turkish Muslims for the sake of community strength and preservation of culture. But it is such lingual precision that has been a thorny issue with the Greek government, which disputes the existence of a Turkish Muslim minority, but instead recognizes only a Muslim minority, impeding progress for resolving minority rights issues.
In a village north of İskece (Xanthi) an imam named Hüseyin flips the switch on the mosque microphone and clears his throat; his frail and aging voice conducting the day's last call to prayer fills the valley in which he has spent an entire lifetime.
"The minority here is Turco-Muslim, and it remains like this in order to survive," says Hüseyin, himself an example of the many who have adopted Turkish identity although his ancestral and linguistic heritage stems from Pomak. Reports estimate people with this heritage, a Bulgarian-speaking population native to the Balkans, to number above 30,000 in Greece.
"With a crop of 1,000 kilograms of tobacco and a donkey, where will I go?" asks Hüseyin, bitter over declining tobacco prices. He partially credits regional economic hardship with having bound these people closer to their culture and religion in recent decades.
According to Hüseyin, though, it is the Turkish-Muslim identity that defines the minority's method of survival. The minority's religious roots are established in religious sermons presented in Turkish. Despite varying languages spoken at home, students adopt the Turkish language and study in public minority schools offering instruction in Greek and Turkish. "We say we are Muslim Turks because meat and bone together don't rot, but if it's said otherwise, one day we will lose," Hüseyin says.
Changing channels
"The hard days have now passed," says Mehmet, a café owner in Echinos, with a grin as he motions to a satellite dish, a subtle symbol of unity that funnels Turkish television to these valleys. "The Greek channels have a very bad signal here, we can't use antennas," Mehmet explains, also keen to indicate that most villagers point their satellite dishes to Turksat over other Greek broadcasting satellites.
"I was the first to buy a satellite. Then we were afraid of the police catching us watching Turkish channels, but they couldn't do anything," Mehmet says. Pausing to catch glimpses of Turkish sports news, he notes that many locals were suspicious of who was funding the increasing number of satellite dishes in his town, with some fearing it was a propaganda attempt luring citizens further into Turkish identity. "It would be great if somebody came and paid me for it," he adds.
Advancing dialogue
A recently released report by Gay McDougall, the United Nations independent expert on minority issues, called for Greece to set aside its dispute over whether a Turkish minority exists in the country -- currently Greece recognizes only a Muslim population -- and instead focus on the protection of minority rights.
In line with the UN report's recommendation of a more aggressive focus on rights, Dr. David Keane, assistant professor of law at İstanbul's Kadir Has University, speaking with Sunday's Zaman, emphasizes Greece's hesitance to move forward on supporting minority rights initiatives.
According to Keane, the Framework Convention on National Minorities, drafted by the Organization for Security and Cooperation in Europe (OSCE), is the main instrument of minority rights protection in Europe.
"Greece is one of only four Council of Europe states that has signed but not ratified the convention. If Greece were to ratify it in the future, which it should if it is serious about minority protection, then the Turkish minority would have a legal right to preserve and develop their culture, including language, education, trans-frontier cooperation and access to media, and retain their identity," Keane explains.
Despite such political speed bumps, Ahmet Mete, the regionally elected mufti, a religious leader who interprets Islamic law on community issues, remains hopeful for progress.
"I finally felt like I was living in Greece, in a European country," Mete tells Sunday's Zaman, recalling the striking turnout in which 7,000 gathered in İskece to commemorate an Islamic holiday.
"I still don't know how it happened," he says, overcome by the fact that the event, taking place in a municipal sports arena during Easter, went on without challenge or conflict.
Adding emphasis to the minority's active approach to their roots, Mete mentions the regions with numerous operating mosques, imams in the area and the 64 Quran courses held last year, indicating an active community brought together by religion and unified through Turkish language and identity.
But, despite such achievements, historical problems linger on.
On a busy road outside of İskece, a billboard reads "Cyprus, We Will ---- Forget," with graffiti blacking out the word "Never." It is such examples of political dissension between Greece and Turkey, showing a stained history and signs of persisting social prejudice, that present an ominous obstacle for future integration. But, fortunately, dialogue has advanced beyond such stray roadside markings, Mete says, adding that time and education will improve the situation.
Today's youth, in line with affirmative action policies that assure placement of minority students in Greece's universities, are leaving the cultural and religious den of their communities. "Our young [minority] generation is going to university; they are coming back without losing their culture and religion. They are stronger and asking questions. ... They now know the laws and their rights," Mete says.
It is such a generation that Mete expects to help in attaining additional progress, as his community calls for the permits needed to construct more minority schools, restore aging mosques and better integrate into Greek society.
"I am proud to be a Greek citizen," Mete says, adding that he wishes others would recognize the minority's valued position for aiding in dialogue between Greece and Turkey, as he points to a wall with framed photos of himself meeting with Turkey's policy movers, including President Abdullah Gül and Prime Minister Recep Tayyip Erdoğan.
But such hopeful improvements in dialogue have yet to reach the lives of citizens like Kemal, a local in his early 20s. Kemal relaxes on the job, as a gas station attendant outside of İskece, as business crawls in the rural region. He recalls hardships while recently serving in Greece's compulsory military service, deployed to a city far away from his home, where his name alone was enough to stir racist treatment.
"They didn't give me days off like they gave other soldiers. ... I spent six months in the kitchen and cleaning toilets before I was transferred," he says, adding: "After that, would you say you were a Greek? This is exactly why we fall into the arms of Turkey."
National
