Pivot Cities in the Rise and Fall of Civilizations

Ahmet Davutoğlu, Andrew Boord

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2021
• Print ISBN:
  9780367763862
• eBook ISBN:
  9781000458787
• Topic: Politics & International Relations
• Subtopic: Politics
• Index: Politics & International Relations

Based on the author's long experience in academic life and the public realm, especially in foreign policy, this book argues that a single categoric classification of cities is inadequate, and that cities have had different and varied impacts and positions throughout the history of civilization.

The author examines how the formation, transformation, destruction or reestablishment of many civilizational cities reveals a clearer picture of the cornerstones of the course of human history. These cities, which play a decisive and pivotal role in the direction of the flow of history as well as providing us with a compass to guide our efforts to understand and interpret this flow, are conceptualized by the author as civilizations' "pivot cities". This innovative book explores the role of great cities in political historical change, presenting an alternative view of these pivot cities from a culturalist perspective. Within this framework, the role played by pivot cities in the history of civilization may be considered under seven distinct headings: pioneering cities which founded civilizations; cities which were founded by civilizations; cities which were transplanted during the formation of civilizations; "ghost cities" which lost their importance through shifts in political power and civilizational transformation; "lost cities" which were destroyed by civilizations; cities on lines of geocultural/geoeconomic interaction; and cities which combine, transform or are transformed by different civilizations. The author's concept of pivot cities explores the interplay between vital cities and civilizations, which bears on the future of globalization at a time of instability, as projected continuing de-Westernization becomes a theme in studies of global history.

This book provides highly productive discussions relevant to the literature on city-civilization relationships and the historicity of pivot cities. Its clear language, rich content, deep and original perspective, interdisciplinary approach and rich bibliography will ensure that it appeals to students and scholars in a variety of disciplines, including cultural studies, political science, comparative urban studies, anthropology, history and civilizational studies.

Part I

Intellectual experiences and methodological framework

1 Introduction

Intellectual background

DOI: 10.4324/9781003166733-1

My first encounters with cities: Traces of place

Before entering into theoretical analyses of civilizations and cities, I believe that this book may gain particular meaning for readers if I seek to introduce and delve further into those cities that have had an especially profound impact on my perception and consciousness of space and cities, thence to share my own experiences in trying to gain a deeper understanding of civilizations and the entirety of the accumulated legacy of humankind. After all, however systematic, no theoretical analysis has the capacity to leave a deeper impression on the mind than unique personal experiences that appeal directly to a person’s mind and soul.

Istanbul and Konya: Mentors in my consciousness of cities

In response to people who ask “So which cognoscenti or teacher has influenced you most?”, my response is “The teacher who has made the deepest impression on my mind and soul is Istanbul”, to which bald statement I add that Istanbul is a genuine mentor to anyone trying to penetrate and understand themselves. Istanbul yields a lesson in spatial consciousness to anyone who contemplates the spectacle of its seven hills, the Golden Horn and the Bosphorus; a lesson in historical consciousness to anyone who sets off on a judicious stroll around the streets and alleyways of the Historic Peninsula, Eyüp, Galata, and Üsküdar; and a lesson in cultural sociology to those attempting to comprehend the human fabric of newly developing districts of the city.

In my childhood there were two cities from whose lecterns I soaked up lessons in culture, knowledge, wisdom, and history: Konya and Istanbul. Konya taught me about the serenity of our civilization; Istanbul, about its harmony. Every time we traveled from Istanbul to Tashkent we would stay a while in Konya and visit our relatives. It was while staying at the homes of my father’s cousins, the Nurullahoğulları and Ahıoğulları families, that I learned the need to absorb the heavenly sounds of the morning call to prayer, which stirred not just a new day into wakefulness, but one’s devotions as well, via one’s soul as well as one’s ears. The sounds of the horse-drawn carriages that began to make themselves heard in the early hours of the morning were no competition for the sound of the call to prayer; on the contrary, the clatter of hooves only gave depth to the serenity, as if trying to adapt to its rhythm.

I learned about the faint thin line between life and death, between this world and the next, when I visited my beloved mother’s grave at the Haji Fettah Cemetery. And it was in Konya that I discovered how to see not just some eerie coldness in family gravestones, which my father would elaborately describe on the way to my late mother’s grave, but an esthetic beauty and elegance embellished in carvings and poems. When I was a little more grown up and became familiar with the Mevlana, the Sheb-i Arus concept did not seem strange to me as someone who had been schooled in Konya; on the contrary, it helped me to realize that I needed to go beyond my reunions with my mother in the sublime atmosphere of Haji Fettah.

Mecca and Medina, Jerusalem, and Istanbul: Horizons of my existential consciousness

Three places strike me as belonging to the realm of both history and metaphysics, this world and the next: Mecca and Medina, Jerusalem, and Istanbul. The relationship between both aspects of the Mecca–Medina relationship is reflected in the person of the Prophet Muhammad. He flees Mecca and returns to conquer it. He takes refuge in Medina and lives there until his death. Mecca is the meeting of history and revelation, while Medina is the walk of the last prophet from the earth-bound to the ethereal. The memorialization of Medina through the Nūr (Holy Light) stems from the embodiment in this city of the light that illuminates humankind in the plane of history. One can feel this embodiment emanating from the Ravza-i Mutahhara of Al-Masjid an-Nabawi (the Prophet’s Mosque) through to every corner of the city. However hectic the rest of the world may be, Medina is bathed in tranquility; however, much other cities are taken over by superficial complexity, Medina possesses an inner austereness; however many other places lie within the dynamism of the dimension of time and history, Medina lies in the serenity of the dimension of metaphysics and timelessness. It is perhaps in Medina where Chinese civilization’s wu-wei principle of spiritual effortlessness/inner peace is best lived.

The duality of Jerusalem originates from the fact that it still contains all the tensions of humankind’s history–metaphysics equation. When one gazes over Jerusalem from the Mount of Olives and lends an ear to the inner voice that runs through the souls of the city, one feels the suffering with which metaphysics has imbued history. Drawing from the existential meaning that the Mevlana bestowed on the call of the reed flute, it is as if the agonized cry of Jerusalem screams out in the name of all worldly places. In this state, Jerusalem is telling you “Everything that could possibly be experienced in history has been experienced right here, in all its profundity, splendor and torment” and inviting you to move on from the intensity of history to the realm of metaphysics.

The essential reason for my inability, in spite of a curfew, to peel my eyes from this silhouette for an entire night during my first visit to Jerusalem in the summer of 1983, was an attempt not to break up this tryst: my sense of existence, my confinement to the time and history in which I lived, and transition to an absolute metaphysical liberation from this confinement became whole in Jerusalem. This led me to the thought that Jesus had had this same tryst on behalf of all humankind as he looked over Jerusalem on his last night on earth. The manifestation of Jesus’ will to walk to absolute freedom by overcoming all the tensions and divisions between time and timelessness, history and metaphysics in Jerusalem made it a place that reflects the world and history, on the one hand, heaven and metaphysics on the other. The Prophet Muhammed’s return to earth after his journey to absolute reunion and liberation in his Ascension to heaven (the Miraj) from Jerusalem represents a perceptual bridge between history and metaphysics on behalf of all humanity, as well as a symbolic expression of humankind’s earthly responsibilities.

Map 1 My first encounters with cities: Traces of place © Küre Yayınları

The perception of the Night of Power (Laylat al-Qadr) that I attained while staying at the al-Aqsa Mosque over an entire night during Ramadan in 2008 enabled me to integrate the Miraj with space at the most profound level and perceive it innately. I did not yearn for the sunrise, which would rupture this synthesis of the al-Aqsa Mosque and Jerusalem, and felt the sublime pleasure of my overnight tryst with this sacred place. I experienced a similar sense of enchantment upon reaching Mount Sinai after a six-hour climb in 1988, and through the exhilaration of spending the whole night on Mount Hira the following year. Watching the sun rise from the summit of Mount Sinai taught me to perceive the Nūr that Moses reached following the ordeal of the testing of his faith and forbearance; my unforgettable night on Mount Hira taught me how light can expand in the deepening darkness, and how one’s horizon and yearnings can expand even as space narrows.

The things that the three nights in these three places taught me at a spiritual and emotional level seemed to me more profound and meaningful than what I had learned from the books to which I am so passionately bound at an intellectual level. Following my spiritual experiences in these places, I realized that internalized, empirical knowledge developed through intensive reflection creates a more enduring perception than knowledge obtained through transference and learning. Even now, whenever my soul gasps for breath I shut my eyes, recall my state of mind in those three places, and try to purify my perception of my own existence of conjunctural/contingent effects and gloom.

And finally, to Istanbul … Unlike Mecca–Medina and Jerusalem, hardly a prophet’s realm, apart from those stories about Joshua; yet harboring such natural beauty that it evokes the sense that this beauty is the reflection of a divine esthetic space in those who gaze over the city. Medina contains the celestial light and soul of revelation, Jerusalem of history, Istanbul of nature. From whatever angle one looks at the city, one’s eyes never grow weary. The four elements meet in harmony in Istanbul in a way that is unseen in any other place. Water and earth meet ethereally over the Bosphorus, the Historic Peninsula, and the Golden Horn; earth and air when they make contact between the sky and the hills that stretch out like a string of pearls. The most astounding views of these three elements at dawn and dusk occur when the sun, the source of the fourth element fire, comes into play. The transformation of this natural beauty into existential harmony and its meeting with ancient history has made Istanbul the center of the quest for harmony between the natural, and social, order.

London: First encounters with the urban culture of Western civilization

The first Western city I encountered and penetrated was London, where I stayed for around a month on my first trip abroad in the Ramadan of 1978. For me, it was not just a “must-see” city, but a kind of living laboratory of a civilization I wanted to discover from within, by means of my German education. As I compared St. Paul’s Cathedral to the Süleymaniye on my first visit there, the booksellers in Charing Cross I still visit to those in Beyazit, the Thames to the Bosphorus and the Golden Horn, Oxford Street to Istiklal Caddesi, and Piccadilly Circus to Taksim Square, I was trying to understand the shared human/universal essence of cities as well as their civilizational differences.

As I strove to imprint the streets of London on my mind like the pages of a required reading, I felt that, unlike in Istanbul, I was wondering around in the labyrinth of a mechanical order rather than that of an organic hodgepodge. If, in terms of being a city’s modern backbone, Oxford Street and Istiklal Caddesi reflect the shared and comparable essence of two different cities, the question of why the experience of centuries of coexistence with which Istanbul is imbued – the Hussein Agha Mosque, Saint Antony’s Catholic Church, and Hagia Triada Greek Orthodox Church on Istiklal Caddesi, the growing concentration of synagogues as one goes down the hill toward Karaköy, and so on – does not exist in London, is not a mere observational enquiry but a question about a consciousness of history and city. This experience was my first opportunity to observe the differences between the organic diversity of ancient cities with the mechanical uniformity of their modern counterparts.

It was also in London that I discovered the difference between owning an ancient city, and preserving it. When I first set eyes on the James Smith & Sons umbrella store on New Oxford Street, established in 1830 and still under the management of the same family, I gained an appreciation not just for another shop, but of the strength of British tradition; I was deeply saddened to recall the disintegration of the tradition of the city in Istanbul. I still remember browsing through a book of pictures of Piccadilly Circus taken at different periods and comparing them to my mental images of the disruptive changes wrought on Sultanahmet, Beyazit, and Taksim squares, as if it were today. The red telephone boxes that are still maintained in spite of having been functionally superseded by mobile phones, and the city’s unchanging London taxi and bus models, demonstrate that it is in London where the most striking examples of the strong links between city culture and tradition continue to be manifested.

It was also in London during those days where I had the chance to observe the impact of colonial domination on a central city of this era, as well as Eastern communities’ first exploratory experiences in a Western city. My memories of breaking the Ramadan fast with my Bangladeshi friends who had somehow managed from meager means to open a little place of worship in an alley off Oxford Street, or enthusiastically saying Friday prayers in the newly opened Regents Park Mosque in the company of Muslims of every color and race and chatting to them after the service, gave me a feeling for the universal anti-colonial psychology of solidarity that exists in a colonial center, at a young age. While I struggled to understand and justify that moment in history by joining anti-Shah demonstrations, Palestinian solidarity gatherings, and forums on such former colonial regions as South Africa, Kashmir, and the Moro, I also had the opportunity to experience what set an imperial capital apart.

At that time no Islamic city had the kaleidoscope of debate and discussion about the Islamic world that London had. The profound marks that the experiences of that time left on me had a background impact on the comparative studies I subsequently conducted between the Rome of the era of Marcus Aurelius and 20th-century London. Having gained my educational stripes in Istanbul, the capital of our ancient civilization, my introduction to London, the imperial capital of a civilization on which the sun never set in the modern era, early on in my process of forming a consciousness of history and space, and the opportunity that afforded me to carry out comparative studies, had a significant effect on the evolution of this book’s intellectual basis.

New York, Jerusalem, Rome, Istanbul, Delhi, Katmandu, and Beijing: a civilizational tour in pivot cities

It was once again during the month of Ramadan, while I was completing the second part of a double major at Bosphorus University in 1983, that I had the opportunity for an up-close, insider’s introduction to the centers of all the great civilizations and faiths, when I attended a month-long international youth conference on the recommendation and invitation of Professor Salih Tuğ, the Dean of Marmara University Faculty of Theology. The “Tawhid World View and its Historical Impacts” paper that I prepared for this conference may be seen as one of the initial exercises in theoretical frameworks that I subsequently strove to develop.

The connection I tried to make between the cities, civilizations, and pivot cities I visited thanks to this conference, after long and intensive reading up on the history of civilizations as personal preparation, constituted an important intellectual line in terms of filling the honeycombs solidified by my studies: New York, Jerusalem, Rome, Istanbul, Delhi, Kathmandu, Hong Kong, Beijing, and Seoul.

New York: Modern Babylon’s arrogance–nothingness balance

When I first visited New York, as its name implies a new city, it conjured up the image of a geometric Babylon. Not being able to see the sky between the skyscrapers on the geometrically designed grid pattern streets that crush people in their enormity gave me the fe...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Half-Title
• Series
• Title
• Copyright
• Contents
• List of maps
• Acknowledgments
• Preface
• PART I Intellectual experiences and methodological framework
• PART II The role of pivot cities in the history of civilizations
• PART III Transforming/transformed pivot cities where civilizations meet
• Bibliography
• Index