Dozens protest in Rome, Berlin, London after the suicide terror attack in Suruc. Demotix/Stefano Montesi. All rights reserved.“I am sorry, if it sounded too emotional” said a female colleague of her newspaper article on recent events in Turkey. The same sentence was used by another female colleague, this time a Greek Cypriot, within a few days. She too apologized if her article “sounded too emotional”. My Greek Cypriot colleague wrote about the trauma caused by the 1974 war in Cyprus on herself and her family. She talked about the ravages of nationalism and divisive politics in Cyprus and ended on a hopeful note expressing her belief in reconciliation and the unification of the island.
My friend from Turkey wrote on the recent Suruç attack that killed thirty three activists that were on their way to Kobane to deliver aid. In her moving article she expressed her anger and sorrow over seeing young activists being killed by the “monsters nourished by the Turkish government” for daring to think that they can fight to bring about a change for the better.
As I reflected on the history of the region and observed the recent events unfolding in the Middle East, the sentence “I am sorry if it sounded too emotional” kept echoing in my head. These two women who are academics are clearly talking from within a context that defines academic research as objective, rational, dispassionate and free from emotion. Academic discipline often limits you, even when you are not writing an academic article and even though you are writing on a subject that triggers emotions such as anger or sadness. So their concern about “sounding too emotional” is informed by this critical distance in academia towards our emotions.
