Condemnation of an attack against coexistence

Though we come from different cultural backgrounds - that of a Turkish Muslim and an American Jew - we both recoiled in horror to the news of Saturday's two terrorist bombings in Istanbul. They killed 24 people, injured 303, and heavily damaged two of Istanbul's synagogues -- one of them the city's largest.

One of us knows Istanbul as home and as one of us knows it as a beautiful city seen through a tourist's eyes. We both know the sites of the bombings: quaint buildings in historic neighborhoods where Jews and Muslims have lived and practiced their religion side by side for more than five centuries. And we both know that it can be either of us -- or any of you -- who falls victim to an act of violence in the world these days. Nobody is safe in a world where human beings have accumulated so much hatred that they are ready to kill themselves and those who are allegedly on their side while trying to attack their "other."

Saturday in Istanbul had started as one of joy and ceremony on a holy day for Jews, and a bustling workday for Muslims as usual. A young boy's bar mitzvah was taking place at the Neve Shalom synagogue, while shopkeepers were going on with their sales next door. The attackers believed that it was their duty to label this peaceful coexistence unacceptable. No, they said, as they planned their brutal attack, you may not live side by side as you have done for more than five centuries, because we want to depict you as enemies.

The attack was planned by people who are disturbed by the Jewish-Muslim harmony in Istanbul. The irony of current-day terrorism was demonstrated by the fact that a radical Islamist attack masterminded by al-Qaida killed more passersby Muslims than worshipping Jews. Only 7 of the 24 victims were Jewish. This attack was not an attack against Jews. It was an attack against all who go about their daily lives in the narrow streets of Istanbul that are painted with centuries of multiethnicity.

Turkish Jews and Muslims alike were punished by those who implied that good relations between countries, particularly between Turkey, Israel, and the United States, are wrong. Government leaders took a stance against the efforts to create a clash of civilizations. Israeli Foreign Minister Silvan Shalom flew to Turkey for a joint press conference with the Turkish Foreign Minister, Abdullah Gul. Shalom said that the attack was "carried out by extremists who don't want to see countries share values of freedom, law and values of friendship and cooperation." Gul stated that, "the attack that was aimed at our Jewish citizens is actually an attack against all of Turkey."

Another positive response to the bombings was an immediate visit to the synagogue by the Turkish Prime Minister, Tayyip Erdogan, leader of the ruling Justice and Development Party with Islamic roots. The injured head Rabbi, whose sermon was cut off by the blast, commented that this was the first time a prime minister had visited the synagogue. He was grateful for the vast sympathy and support. He also said that he was deeply saddened by the fact that so many Muslims fell victim to the attack, as they were those who were guarding the synagogue or were living next to it.

It was not the first time Neve Shalom's ornamental facade saw bigotry. In September 1986, Arab terrorists had staged a bloody attack with guns and grenades on worshippers in the synagogue, killing 23. The Turkish government and people were outraged by the attack. The damage had been repaired, except for several bullet holes in a seat-back, left as a reminder.

Saturday's bombings came as a starker reminder of the anger and hatred that still exists in the minds of some because of their belief that the coexistence of two different cultures, which encompass religion and history and traditions and prayer and work, is wrong. That is what we cannot understand, what boggles our minds, because we know inherently that just the opposite is true. At the heart of positive international relations lies personal contact between people of different backgrounds - this is its most basic component, its foundation, and to us, the easiest of concepts to grasp.

Perhaps this is because we don't see ourselves solely as products of our cultures. Our identities also include being women, students, and human beings. We know that we differ from fundamentalists in this way; for we don't see all of human life through the lens of religious faith. But this is not an excuse or explanation for these attacks, because there are Muslims and Jews alike who devote their entire lives to religious faith and study without ever blowing up those who call their God by a different name.

We know that it's not our secular education that gives us this perspective. An injured victim of Saturday's attack did not have to study international relations to grasp that the only difference between human beings is the conditions they are born into, which in our minds is pure, unadulterated chance. This 22-year-old Muslim shopkeeper's words allude to the inherent love in human beings, which those who are blinded by lust for power are trying to convert into hatred: "We are Christians, Jews and Muslims, but what remains of our differences when we are hit by a bomb?"

A 77-year-old Turkish Jew, who was about to step outside for a morning walk not a block from Neve Shalom when the bomb hit, was equally adamant about this cultural harmony: "Turkey is our home - a million bombs would not be able to make us leave."

Like our Muslim and Jewish neighbors in Istanbul, we are resolute. We may be thousands of miles away from this tragedy, but our friendship is no less significant. We believe in human beings' right to live - and just as importantly, their right to live in coexistence.

Baris. Shalom. Salaam. Peace.

Joanna Friedman is a senior majoring International Relations and Esra Yalcinalp is a senior majoring in History and International Relations.