Having been in Istanbul for the best part of three weeks now, having acquainted myself with its culture and traditions, and having met a vast quantity of people from this region, the problems facing the Middle East are explicitly clear to see throughout all structures of society. Given her recent transgressions Turkey is most certainly within the MENA region now, despite its clear European architectural influences and its ‘Mediterranean way of life’. Rather than just rattle off information from Al Jazeera or the BBC I’m aiming for the more personal touch. There are three young males here, all with differing backgrounds from across The Middle East. Of course they shall remain nameless, but I hope to show some of their brief stories from our communications in admittedly broken English.

Person A – an Iranian handyman and engineer. Despite the best efforts from the girls at the hostel, his English is very fractured (partly due to his stubbornness to improve his quality of English). Our first conversation we had was about his background and why he left Iran. `I love my country’, he said, ‘but I hate my government. It is rubbish if you are not religious`. Being awoken by the Call to Prayer here at roughly 04:50 every morning, and having spent a week of my life in Saudi Arabia, I feel like I’ve seen both ends of the religious spectrum. Turkey is not an Islamic country, there may be political policies forcing that shift, but there still remains a conflict of interests for the people of Istanbul. So clearly, religion is an issue for Person A. His second complaint actually focused on guests, `everybody here thinks I am Arab, but I am not, I am Persian`. There is an issue with identity throughout the region and historically this mistake has induced tension and conflict, and obviously he takes great offence from being falsely labelled as an Arab. Given the recent rapprochement between Iran and United States there is renewed hope for a reduction in international tension, maybe not regional, but having known this person for three weeks now his complaints have rarely been directed at the West but rather the inner turmoil within the country that he loves.

Person B – a young Syrian political activist who actually was the first person to greet me upon my arrival in Istanbul. He came to Istanbul from Syria two years ago, fleeing the country having angered the Assad regime for his political writings. He continues to write on the Middle East, but now anonymously, distributing his work to various Gulf media outlets. The reason for anonymity is to protect his family who remained in the war-torn country. My first night here while exchanging pleasant small talk, and having revealed the degree I’m studying, he dropped this accurate one-liner; `yeah, Syria is a little bit fucked`. Refreshingly honest, he didn’t hide away from the truth, he didn’t paint a pretty picture for its current situation or what conditions may be in the future. He doesn’t believe that the Islamist ideology of IS will ever be defeated, unfortunately I’m very much inclined to agree despite my positive disposition and optimism for the region. One of the issues with combating IS and their Islamist ideology appears to be that it’s not at the forefront of any country’s (or rather any primary actors’) foreign policy. The United States has been focused on securing the nuclear program deal with Iran, the United Kingdom’s primary focus is domestic and reducing numbers leaving to join IS, Saudi’s main concern is Yemen (and opposing the US-Iran deal) while Turkey’s recent aerial attacks on IS forces have extremely questionable motives. Although my friend fears for the future of his country, his positive outlook on life and his enthusiasm for socializing are genuinely refreshing considering the strife and turmoil he has left behind.

Person C – a man a few years older than myself (I dare not ask his actual age, how terribly un-British of me that would be) who has just finished his compulsory military service in the Turkish Armed Forces. What we would call in Britain a `cynical lefty`, he is adamant that democracy has failed and that the Middle East is not a region with the potential to change. Dubbed by the BBC as the most important week in contemporary Turkish history (what a time to be in Istanbul), Turkey has firmly established itself as a chief actor in fighting IS. Great, on paper. The feeling within Turkey and among its people is rather more ominous. In the recent election Erdogan didn’t achieve the overall majority he aspired for, and with growing support for the PKK and left and centre-left parties, the AKP party had to act with swagger and power to claw back lost voters ahead of forthcoming elections. His government’s actions over the past week have angered the masses, forcing them onto the streets of Istanbul to protest against water cannons, tear gas and riot police. When asked ‘what’s wrong with Turkey?’, his response was simply ‘everything, Erdogan wants to recreate the Ottoman Empire, destroy the Kurds and make our country an Islamic one’. Although this is an extremely pessimistic approach, it is shared by the majority of young Turkish people I have spoken to. The dubious nature of their involvement in Syria has been heavily commented on in the past week, there is clearly an ulterior motive concerning the potential of an independent Kurdish state along Turkey’s southern border, and this has left the country fractured and facing social and identity issues systematic of the MENA region. What was most disturbing however was what I witnessed yesterday. On Sunday, as we were walking from Tophane to Kabatas (two districts within Istanbul) we uncovered these beautifully decorated steps from the Pride celebrations last month. Tourists and locals alike were stopping to take photographs of this artwork, it transcended a political and social movement. Yesterday, when completing the same walk and hoping to capture photos of our own, we discovered that these steps were in the midst of being destroyed by the local council. Having spoken to people here during the Pride celebrations, what was a peaceful, um, celebration descended into riot police throwing tear gas and firing rubber bullets. Draw from this what you will, but it sure ain’t open or tolerant, and the destruction of the steps was quite frankly shocking.

This deliberately isn’t a profound piece, I’m not really offering any major insights here, rather I’m just commenting on the views expressed by others exposed to the harsh realities of the Middle East, something I believe we in the West find hard to grasp or fathom. There is a different culture here, a different way of living, clearly we can’t impose our Western, liberal democratic values on the region, it won’t work. The turbulence of the Middle East will not be remedied overnight, nor in the next year or maybe even five years. But what I think is crucial, and completely and utterly necessary, is that we strive to have a greater understanding of the hardships of our fellow man irrespective of religion or identity.

The first time I read this piece it annoyed me, the second time it angered me. I have a great respect for those with the ability and confidence to express their thoughts with a panache and showmanship that creates an informative and entertaining read for all audiences. Therefore to a degree, this blog has served its purpose, it has ignited debate and discussion about a very real and contemporary debate that is a domestic and foreign issue. However the oversights within the piece and the intentions of the author (although from a somewhat cynical viewpoint) unfortunately decrease its legitimacy and worth. This is not an attack on the author or Quilliam Foundation. The structure of my argument will first focus on the shortcomings of the piece itself, and secondly the flaws in his creation of a Quilliam Society at the University of Exeter.

The notion proposed by Charlie is admirable, university students could do more to address the issues of radicalisation and extremism, but this about ten years too late into our education system. Religious education, and by this I don’t just mean a knowledge of Christianity, Hinduism or Islam among others but an acceptance and tolerance of all faiths and practices, should be a staple of school curriculum if extremism is in fact a generational issue. Shock, he found Cameron’s recent address on the Islamist ideology ‘impressive’, which received a remarkably mixed response from British Muslims and failed to appreciate that attacks on the West pre-dated 9/11 (cite Alastair Sloan’s opinion piece for Al Jazeera). The notion that young people are not engaged with politics but should be leading counter-extremism initiatives is admirable but fundamentally contradictory. Repeatedly the susceptibility of young people with limited opportunities falling into this extremism trap is alluded to, but there is almost no direct correlation between the two (please read Hannah Stuart’s, from the Henry Jackson Society, study on every individual convicted of Islamist terrorism in the past fifteen years, or for that matter attend any international relations module lecture on terrorism provided by the university). It is actually those well educated young Muslims who subscribe to the Islamist ideology greatest, Salma and Zahra Halane had twenty-eight GCSEs between them, and the sisters followed their elder brother who had also ditched his ‘excellent academic career’. Within our University we have a fantastic Arab and Islamic Studies Institute, and clearly the author has failed to communicate with or even acknowledge the work and opinions of our academics. Githens-Mazer points out the difficulty in predicting and preventing this kind of incident from happening, so how can a University society offer much more insight. Even the briefest conversation with Omar Ashour, a world-leading expert on extremism and radicalisation, would have given this piece considerably more backbone and accuracy. Also, one questions the author’s understanding and knowledge of Islamism, by no means do I consider myself to have an uncompromising or perfect knowledge, but I do possess a considerably greater exposure from academic experts. Islam needs reform, almost all Muslims agree with that, but it shouldn’t be coming from white, middle-class, Russell group educated political activists. Being young doesn’t qualify him to talk on issues concerning young people. Finally, this rhetoric that ‘extremism is a long-term, generational struggle’. is doomed to inevitable failure. The Brixton riots of 1981 were an issue of race, the 2011 London riots were an issue of race, there is still massive institutionalised across all structures of British society (Fletcher’s essay on the inherent racism within Yorkshire County Cricket being a personal favourite). What honestly makes us think that this issue of Islamist ideology or dare I say it ‘Islamophobia’ will be any different to issues of racism back when our parents were children?

For the second part of my critique. This is were it becomes more emotive and those who aren’t involved within University life (especially that at Exeter) can probably scroll down now, but I beg you please don’t. When I said that reading this blog the second time made me angry that wasn’t an exaggeration, it made me detest my university and the hierarchies and schisms it creates. University is great, but its competitive nature can bring the best and worst out of individual. Our University is also full of people who, for want of a better phrase ‘know how to polish a turd’, the author is clearly skilled in this. I’m not denying that I am also, but I speak with an openness and honesty that makes me endearing and personable. To the cynical among us, and knowing the dynamics and strategies of those at University, Charlie’s efforts to create a Quilliam Foundation are nothing short of egotistical vanity and a facade to deceive potential employers in the future with another anecdote for his CV. For all I know his attempts are genuine and sincere and I could be completely wrong, I hope I am and I will certainly apologise if proved otherwise, but read that article and tell me it doesn’t crop into your mind at least once. On top of this, the Arabic and Middle Eastern Society already actively engages with the Quilliam Foundation, having had Jonathan Russell speak this past academic year and another guest booked in for September. Using Exeter as a template for establishing these societies is also highly questionable considering our demographic; white, middle-class, private school educated. As somebody who doesn’t align to any of these social norms within our University bubble, and knowing I am fully in the minority, I question the potential for success of these efforts. And again, Islamic reform shouldn’t be forced by the educated elite but rather those actively engaged within British Muslim society. As a continuation of this argument, why is our University Guild filled by people both from these backgrounds and spreading this rhetoric, it’s effectively a clique. Of course the obvious argument is ‘if you want change be the change’, but I am already a busy enough individual with a firm hatred for brown-nosing and the like (please see author’s Twitter interactions with Harris Rafiq). Student politics doesn’t appeal to the masses, but that doesn’t mean we can’t prevent the same minority group controlling what is a University for twenty-thousand. Numerous examples come to mind from our Guild Elections Week to that certain Exepose article, does our Guild really represent ALL students? This is certainly a discussion for another day.

The purpose of this response was to offer reflection and show a genuine engagement with another students expression of viewpoint. However this retort has transcended from extremism to student politics, both of which are issues which need to be discussed across all systems that we are subject to. Addressing extremism shouldn’t start with University students, certainly not those at Exeter whatever our intellectual input. Extremism is a vast issue that quite frankly second year University students are not qualified to offer genuine policy towards. We are allowed to express our viewpoints and ideas though, and to freedom of speech I will forever be thankful.

I am neither an anthropologist or a psychologist, nor do I have an abundance of wealth or influence. But what I do have are a very particular set of skills, skills that make me a nightmare for people like you. I am a cocky little shit, a self-confessed egotist with the emotional complexity of a wooden spoon. Though lacking in empathy and social decorum occasionally, I have a perceptiveness, intelligence and frankly openness that allows me to express my opinions with an air of arrogance. Although I dispute this affiliation with arrogance, it is an interesting phenomenon to ask oneself. Am I arrogant? A label I am frequently tagged with, as I have already alluded to I contest this, but nonetheless it has produced a concept (that if memory serves I would have first created as a seventeen year old) which shall from here on be dubbed as The Four Stages of Confidence.

No scientific testing has taken place, no psychiatric profiles have been examined and nobody has been asked to stare at a painting and tell me if they see a rabbit or a duck. The following is based entirely on opinion, some evidence where possible and conversation with a drunk eighteen year old. The following has been composed from life experience. The Four Stages of Confidence (FSOC) have been drawn from friends, family and most importantly myself. One’s ability to intrinsically reflect should never be overestimated, our self-worth is more important than our external portrait. In conjunction with FSOC those much more learned than I will see tangible and coherent links to other human traits, chiefly anxiety and insecurity. Although I will make tentative comparisons, being trained in neither anthropology or psychology my intellectual capacity is unfortunately limited. Thankfully though, one does have access to The Oxford Online Dictionary to provide exemplary definitions for all four of our stages of confidence. Now, without further ramblings from a sleep-deprived twenty year old, I present to you FSOC.

Confidence. The feeling or belief that one can have faith in or rely on someone or something. We all have a measure of confidence, anybody who says otherwise (bar exceptional circumstances) is lying. Anybody who tells you they are not a confident person is lying, they are trying to cheat you. Although this may seem heavy handed, confidence is a human characteristic we are all hardwired with. I should point out here that I have been fortunate enough, despite social stereotypes and a modest background, to have a nice middle class upbringing, attending a prestigious Grammar School and a fantastic University. I have been surrounded by like-minded, intelligent and successful students. They know their capabilities and their limitations, and this creates confidence. They can really upon their ability to complete tasks which they have been acquainted with, but may shy from those unfamiliar. A confident person has exemplary social skills, a willingness to engage and asks meaningful and insightful questions. They may express their confidence in a classroom or on a sports pitch or an A Capella group; whether it be in a summative presentation, a BUCS final or national singing competitions. The platforms for expressing confidence are limitless, from the smallest social interaction (numerically for example, an interview) to the greatest show on Earth (which is clearly The X Factor, Britain’s Got Talent or Strictly Come Dancing). The crux of this description is deceptively simple, in essence we all have our areas where we feel confident, and thus it is the opening stage in FSOC.

Cocky. Conceited or confident in a bold or cheeky way. I fricking love this definition, well done The Oxford Dictionary. This is me in a nutshell. I’m a brash individual with an endearing personality that doesn’t quite make me an insufferable twerp. My interpretation of ‘cocky’ may be considered tarnished in order to conform with my self-opinion, but let me to try to justify this, citing myself as an example. I’m a highly intelligent individual, a decent sportsman (when not plighted by injury) and have been blessed with a charisma and panache that makes me very good at social interactions and public speaking. However, I’m awful at art (I struggle to stay in the lines when colouring in), I’m most certainly tone death and I’m 99% sure my ten year old cousin knows more about physics or chemistry or any other scientific subject for that matter (and I’m still not 100% sure that only leaves biology). Essentially, I know what I’m good at, but more importantly I’m willing to admit my inefficiencies. And of course, I do this in a bold and cheeky way. Now my grasp of the English language may not be that of an English Literature student, and is most certainly tarnished by my Scouse father, but the definition identified at the beginning of this paragraph has been examined and interpreted in such a way to suggest more than just confidence but falling short (again, possibly conveniently to cater to my concept of self-worth) of our third stage, arrogance.

Arrogant. Having or revealing an exaggerated sense of one’s own importance or abilities. Many a person comes to mind when I read this definition (again I tip my backwards snapback to the lads at Oxford Dictionary), but fundamentally it paints a clear distinction between being ‘cocky’ and being ‘arrogant’. The key word here is ‘exaggerated’, but as I have typed that I have realised that revealing is its subtle partner in crime (personally I would change ‘exaggerated’ to ‘distorted’ in this definition, but that could come under further examination in our fourth and final stage). As previously mentioned, I’m perfectly open about my capabilities and flaws, an arrogant person will fail to acknowledge the latter. In their head, and the self-image they wish to project to their audience, is that they are the dogs bollocks at EVERYTHING. But what might actually be worse is that they have to reveal this exaggeration to every person they come across, irrespective of their social or personal relationship. Granted, often arrogant people are very skilled and talented across a multitude of platforms and deserve their credit and acclaim, but more often than not they fall into the trap of being an insufferable twerp. Our ability to self-reflect and self-criticize allows an individual to progress and develop, and often your arrogant university student will still seem like a spoiled little teenager. A degree of arrogance is a fantastic characteristic to have been bestowed with, I’m sure they will have a prosperous and successful life, but they might piss off the wrong person occasionally. Oh, and of course, an arrogant person will read this entire piece and come to the conclusion that I’m a jealous and envious individual, which I can assure you I am not.

Bullshit. Talk nonsense to (someone) in an attempt to deceive them. If Jay from The Inbetweeners doesn’t instantly come to mind upon reading this then you have lived a sheltered and frankly deprived life. Thankfully fewer people come to mind when reciting this definition, maybe one or two percent of my Facebook friends list. We all have an unnerving and actually scary ability to construct pure bullshit, upon varying degrees of smelliness. At the greatest end of the spectrum, this person’s life will be a fantastic narrative that Hollywood would love to get their filthy, dollar-laden hands on. To be perfectly honest, I’m struggling to expand on this fourth and final stage any further than the perfect comparison to Jay Cartwright, so if you have actually been living in a cave for the past eight years than please address your negligence of incredible British television with utmost haste. 

Now then, I’m sure there are both positive and negative correlations between all four stages of confidence and their symbiotic relationships with anxiety and insecurity (i.e as our confidence increases our anxiety decreases, or, as our confidence decreases our insecurities increase). Unfortunately those vague interactions are where I will limit this section of comparison and reflection, in part due to lack of knowledge but also in what may be seen as a controversial piece (and by this I mean open to negative interpretations from belligerent fools) it may be wise to conceal any potential access routes for verbal conflict and keyboard warriors. And yes that brashness is most certainly intended.

In conclusion, I hope you’ve found this an to be an entertaining, engaging and insightful read. Like I said at the very beginning, this hasn’t been produced from scientific investigations but rather from life experience. Results have not been interpreted or fabricated to produce a predetermined final result, rather these parameters will always be adaptable and open to reconsideration. Although this has dealt with a very small section of human psyche and even though this may be with an openly superficial tone, I think it is very important to remember a few key conclusion. Everybody has a field, skill, talent etc that they feel confident in, if you can honestly say that there isn’t one then you simply just haven’t found it yet, but please don’t stop looking. Being cocky or arrogant has an incredible amount of benefits and perks, but being in our third stage of comparison is less desirable due to connotations of alienation, manipulation and fabrication. The less we explore the individual that falls into our fourth and final stage the better, so to put it in Lehman’s terms, don’t bullshit. It seems fitting to finish this with one of my favourite initialisms in the world, and one I embrace wholeheartedly. PMA – Positive Mental Attitude.