Westerners must be willing to differentiate between radicals and moderates, says CAROLYN BARTA 

Events have once again hoisted radical Islam to the top of the news – with the Israeli-Hezbollah war and the recent terrorist plot that was foiled in the United Kingdom. But Westerners who would reject the inevitability of a "clash of civilizations" must know that radical Islam is different from Islam as a religion – and not all Muslims are terrorists. That idea has been rooted in my mind since a trip to Turkey earlier this summer introduced me to Muslims who believe that Westerners and moderate Muslims can fight radical Islam by finding common ground. They offer a counter image to the Muslim-as-terrorist by promoting tolerance and interfaith dialogue between the Muslim and Judeo-Christian world. 

 

I was part of a small group of Texans visiting Turkey as guests of the Houston-based Institute for Interfaith Dialog, a nonprofit organization of Turkish volunteers, their American friends, university students and academics. We groped our way to a unique connectedness on a trip that was built around visits to Turkish sites that, like us, represented different faiths – Christian, Jewish and Muslim. 

 

We saw the cultural diversity of the civilizations that once lived in Anatolia – from Ephesus, where Paul spread the word of Christianity, to a Jewish museum and the Blue Mosque in Istanbul, to the cave in Sanliurfa (Urfa) where, according to Muslim tradition, Abraham was born and the three faiths coincide. 

 

We also had conversations with Turks and their families over meals and tea in homes, schools and businesses. Four young Turks living in Dallas led the group. Before the trip, one said, "You're going to hear a lot about Gulen." 

 

Fethullah Gulen, the most influential Muslim scholar in Turkey, has for 30 years been the spiritual leader urging Muslims to focus on education, tolerance and charitable works. Since the late 1990s, for medical reasons, he has lived in the U.S. 

 

In Turkey, everyone seems to know of the Gulen movement. Scholars say it's the country's largest civil movement, but membership is hard to quantify, for it has no central organization or hierarchy. 

 

One follower is Mustafa Akyol, an Istanbul writer. He described two faces on Islam – one of tolerance and peace-seekers and the other of Osama bin Ladens and those only interested in "killing the infidels." 

 

To Mr. Akyol, the Gulen movement represents mainstream Islam that was last seen in the Ottoman Empire. Turks often cite the period for its religious diversity and harmony. But today, Turkey is 98 percent Muslim. The families we met were devout Muslims and many had never met an American – Christian or Jew. All they knew of America was Sex and the City and MTV. 

 

They wanted to learn about us – as we did about them. In return, our sponsors hoped we would share our experiences back home. They're trying to build critical mass, albeit by what seems to be chain-letter style. 

 

We visited several schools supported by donations from Gulen followers, where universal golden-rule style values are taught within a strong academic curriculum. Hundreds of such schools have been built – some scholars say 700 in 90 countries, with Turkey taking the lead. 

Hilmi Nakiboglu, who owns a plastics firm and helps fund a kindergarten in Gaziantep, explained his commitment: "If you solve the problem of one single person, you solve the problem of humanity." 

 

The movement is not without detractors. Radicals see it as watered-down Islam. Gulen followers mostly support Turkey's secular government. Other Turks resent a government that interferes with their religion by prohibiting headscarves at state institutions such as universities; a few would even replace the secular government with a theocracy. And a more conservative, radical brand of Islam is practiced by Kurds in the country's rural Southeast. 

Yet, the movement has made headway. Besides schools, Gulen supporters have generated a daily newspaper, Zaman, and a family-centered television network, Samanyolu TV (STV), which airs no explicit violence or sexuality. 

 

Can education and interfaith dialogue bridge the gap between the cultures of East and West and reduce the influence of radical Islam? Our hosts are hopeful. 

 

One of our guides, Al Yaradanakul, a Dallas medical researcher, offered his philosophy against the backdrop of the Israeli-Hezbollah fighting. "People," he said, "can't hate each other forever." 

 

The problem is: They have, and they do. Is his an idealistic view? Yes. Naïve? Perhaps. It is, however, an effort to break down hatred rather than exacerbate it. 

 

Carolyn Barta teaches journalism at Southern Methodist University. Her e-mail address is This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it .