‘The Taps Sound’, Originality and Nationalism

I read with interest Prof. Kaymakçı’s 12punto article dated October 26, 2026, titled ‘Looking at the “Taps sound” from the perspective of socio-cultural imperialism!’. I was also pleased.  

The reason for my interest and pleasure is clear. Like Professor Kaymakçı, I have for many years viewed our lack of originality as a pabendi terakki (a shackle on progress), and even more, as a national danger. I am including below, with very few changes, my article titled Universities, Originality and Nationalism, which was published in Cumhuriyet BT on January 29, 2005, and which highlights the ‘Taps sound’ example regarding this lack:

During the process of my candidacy for the rectorship of Istanbul University, I had the opportunity to observe, think, talk, and debate extensively about both my own university and our universities in general. I would like to share with you a part of this experience that I consider invaluable.

As our current efforts clearly reflect, our society has been in a distinct state of Westernization enthusiasm since the second half of the 18th century. Great gains were achieved with the founding of our Republic, but our universities, in particular, have never been able to acquire the high-level academic, creative, and productive qualities of Western universities. The negatives mentioned in the famous Malche report, which initiated the 1933 University Reform, exist almost entirely today as well.  

Turkish universities have, first and foremost, failed to capture the quality of being institutions that produce thought and knowledge; their main purpose and occupation have not gone beyond transferring accumulated knowledge and professional skills, and the increase in quantity after 1980 has never turned into the rise in quality that is essentially sought. It is true that the number of our scientific publications abroad has gained great momentum in recent years and that we have risen to 20th place internationally in terms of sheer numbers. When looked at closely, however, it is understood that almost all of this increase in quantity is a result of the requirement for external publication for academic promotions (H. Yazıcı, Cumhuriyet BT, June 26, 2004). Looking at this ‘artificial’ development and saying things like “We surpassed Greece in science this year, and next year we will catch up with Denmark” sounds nice, but I must say with regret that it is far from the truth. 

I do not know if there is any other country in the history of universities that has trained nearly ten thousand faculty members in 10 years as we have. Above all, the extraordinary situation—almost contrary to the nature of things—where a country that ranks 77th in transparency, which is the most fundamental element of science, can be 20th in science, has not opened the eyes of our science counters at all. 

The leading duty of our universities has always been seen as transferring and disseminating known information, rather than questioning established knowledge or producing new knowledge. In addition to this shallow view, universities have also been burdened in every era with the task of being local representatives of the West’s level of contemporary civilization, especially the visual aspects of this level.

The task of being a local representative of the level of contemporary civilization is, at first glance, very attractive and, to some, functional. This is precisely why every government, regardless of its political view, wants to increase the number of universities. However, the fundamental purpose of a university is not to bring together people who look decent, sit correctly, speak correctly, adopt, internalize, and transfer what is put in front of them, behave ‘as required,’ and, to satirize a bit, understand wine varieties and make references to Shakespeare when necessary, in order to create an example of civilization for society. The fundamental function of a university, instead of conforming to molds—no matter how contemporary those molds may be—is, on the contrary, to raise individuals who constantly question these molds and both encourage and produce new ideas, hypotheses, and theories. The indispensable quality of this process is originality. Originality is the air, the water, the sine qua non of a university. The habit of ‘thinking differently,’ regardless of the field of endeavor, is undoubtedly the most important part of the education a university will provide to its students. In this context, universities do not teach their students what the truth is; they teach them to debate truths; they do not show a single path, they illuminate the paths.      

The historical fallacy is the view that a questioning individual may one day be harmful to national interests. This almost paranoid view reached its peak with the September 12 coup, and the very first implementation of the oppressive regime of the era was, as if trying to save goods from a fire, to force the famous YÖK (Higher Education Law) straitjacket onto Turkish universities. What is forgotten is that the most effective and lasting protection of national interests can be achieved not just with cannons and rifles, but with creative scientists who think freely and produce original work, lawyers and judges with free and independent minds, historians who will interpret history fearlessly—in short, with “questioning and creating” individuals who will not compromise on the universal criteria of their own professional and scientific fields under any circumstances. It can easily be said that England won the Second World War with its universities. It was the famous British universities that confused the targets of German missiles, developed weapons against those missiles, discovered penicillin to save the lives of the wounded, developed the science and technology of skin grafting for war burns, and finally trained the most effective spies of the war. Yes, among so many original and creative thinkers, there were those who sold the secret of the atomic bomb to the Russians, but these few bad examples never led the British to bring Oxford or Cambridge under control.

I end what I am trying to say with a personal observation regarding originality and national interests. Summer 2004. The television is showing the visit of Mr. Bush and his wife to Anıtkabir during their trip to Turkey. As always, with the playing of ‘Taps’, the guest president and his wife stood at attention. For a moment, I thought I saw a smile on Bush’s face, and then those blank stares again. Suddenly, I was overcome with real anger. This piece of music that we have been playing at the top of the Ata’s resting place—and in other places like the TBMM—for decades, dear readers, is actually a melody that an American knows as well as their own national anthem. Those around the age of 60 will remember, this is the music played on the bugle by Montgomery Clift in the famous film “From Here to Eternity”. It is called TAPS in English. It emerged as a bugle call for soldiers during the American Civil War and over the years became the most important melody of American military funeral ceremonies. It tells the dead to ‘sleep well’. An American with developed national feelings also stands up when they hear TAPS, puts their hand on their chest, and recites the lyrics by heart. Mr. Bush and his wife sit in the White House. A little further away is the famous Arlington National Cemetery. When Bush opens his window, he hears TAPS seven days a week, eight days a week. For God’s sake, tell me. Do they play the Tenth Year March at Lincoln’s tomb? There is also a functional aspect to the event. Wouldn’t Bush say, “If these Turks are so lacking in originality that they cannot play any music other than my own music even at the tomb of their greatest leader, I wouldn’t just march into Iraq with them, I’d march into China”?

I wonder if I have been able to express how intertwined nationalism and originality are!

Note: Some parts of the article are taken verbatim from the promotional brochure printed by the author for his rectorship candidacy.