prestige, controllers and members of organisations often put their private interests ahead of those of the organisation (Stirling, 1968). In all countries, 'better' organisation is an issue. In Turkey, from the organisation of the governmcnt itself down to the village midwife sunning herself in the garden of her government house, there is a vast amount to be learned - and applied - about effectiveness, commitment and supervision.8

The villagers of course always knew effectively about their own

organisations; houscholds, farming, marriages, villages, markets, and relations with their State.9 But they have also learned an enormous amount about outside organisations of many kinds. They learn mainly ad hoc what it is in their interest to know, what helps them to solve the next problem. They can only do this within the limits of their existing knowledge, perceptions and experience; and of their own morality. Enriching their household, or doing favours for kin friends and allies is a moral duty; far more important than observing specific laws or formal rules, or pursuing thc planned purposes of other peoplc's organisations.

By contrast, villagers who become cntrepreneurs fiPd themselves

needing to organisc and control others in new ways, and to establish new kinds of relations wilh other businessmen, professionals, and officials. Many villagers from S and E now act as building contractors, many run commercial undertakings, retail and wholesale, and a few havc become manufacturcrs. A large number arc buildhlg subcontractols in a given craft. All thcsc have to learn to

12 CUL7 URE AND ECONOMY

manage the internal and extemal rclations of new organisations unlike villages and farming households.

A great many Turks, and not only villagers, seem to assume that

if you want something from, or within, a large organisation, then to get it, what you most need is not a formally correct case, nor even manipulative knowledge of the working of the system, but a personal link to someone of power above or within the organisation who is prepared to use that power on your behalf. Thus personal networks, 'patron client relations', are thought to be the most crucial factor in the daily running of organisations (Gune,s-Ayata, 1990). This perception, which is far too simple not to be false, closely matches the villagers' experience, assumptions and commitment to households and friends. Village and migrant morality fit cosily into this national culture of networking. Which raises interesting, if sensitive, questions for anolher occasion. l°

(vi) Cognitive Change. Nothing struck me more forcibly when I retumed to the two villages in 1971 than what I then called the information explosion (Stirling, 1974). In order to earn, a farmer goes to town and leams a new skill; he may even go to a new country. Even to go to town, he needs information. When he gets there he needs to know how to

but who gives jobs, how they can be persuaded to choose him; and so on. Those who enter new skilled occupations - the building trade, contracting, shopkeeping, manufacturing cement sewer pipes - need to know a lot more. Young mcn in the village leam to repair tractors, operate videos, mend refrigerators, wire houses. All who do not go and talk to those who do. Everyone watches television and listens to the radio. I was constantly asked about Thatcher and Liverpool (futbol). The State, through schools, colleges and universities, and through the Office of Religious Affairs is pumping out vast quantities of new knowledge and ideology. In short, the increase since 1950 in 'knowledge' in Turkey, in the sense of all the bits of information and disinformation, facts, ideas, theories, dogmas, stories, cannot be measured; but it is certainly hugc, vast; and underestimated, under-researched and under-discussed.

Of course, everyone knows about the necd for formal

knowledge, for science and technology. What is not discussed is what I call social cognition (Fischer,1991). Humans scldom stop talking. Out of CROWTH AND Cl/ANCES 13   this continuous conversation is created a shared world of ideas and beliefs built - now - round lhe multitude of new experiences and new learning and new purposes which arise from new social eontexts. All this is linked to the new occupational structure, and to the growth of new organisations; greatly augmented by formal edueation, television in almost every home, and an aetive press. But it is also part of every soeial eneounter in the land. l l   The words 'information' or 'knowledge' imply feeding bloeks of truth into a vaeuum. But this new soeially shared eonstruetion of reality is grounded in existing experience, and existing eognitive structures. People as they pass it on to others add home-made logie, plausible connections, misunderstandings, and that quintessential human gift, fantasy. This vast arena of possible ideas is flexible and kaleidoscopic. The people who are doing new jobs, operating in and manipulating new organisations and soeial networks, are also living in new eognitive worlds of their own shared eonstruetions. These eonstructions are of course constantly trimmed by real - or imagined - experience. Some ideas, new and old, take a long time to change; some never do. Moreover, these eognitive proeesses are not homogeneous; they generate eognitive proliferation, and oRen fierce arguments, even violence. That is, in time, people, within the eultural unity derived from, imposed by the nation state, become, more or less fortuitously, more and more culturally distinct.l2   A digression. Social cognition seems to me highly relevant to the 'Islamic Revival', and to the academic and political diseussion about it. Islam provides most Turks with (among other things) a eosmos, a guarantee, an ultimate Iegitimation of soeial order, morality and purpose. But people's cognitive worlds are in complex flux, from seience and Darwinian evolution in schools, and a secular, eleeted government which controls religion and pays all imams, to an international world, olten seen mainly as hostile, dominated by Europe, the USA, Japan and the multinationals. Of course, not all Turks live in the same Islamic univcrse in the Elrst plaee (Tapper, 1991; Shankland, Chaptcr 4). But making sense of their new worlds in terms of their old cosmos gives peoplc a whole speetrum of different constructions of realily and of morality. I find it eonsistent (notice that I am covenly implying causal connection) with this generalising impressionislic description lhat some of these new constructions proclaim new fundamentalist certainties, which, though seen as grounded in lhe old unchangeable revelation, in fact provide   14 CUL7 lJRE AND ECONOMY a new social and polilical programme to cope with the new situations and new threats. (vii) Causal Complexity

Each of these five headings is shorthand for a whole set of

further points; and they are not independent. Isolating topics for research is essential. But it is both difficult, because of the seamless tangles which are social reality; and dangerous, because the simplifying essential to comprehensibility is likely also to mislead. This brings me back to the theme of complexity. Many models for example, the argument for a distinguishable set of 'paths of transformation' (Keyder, Chapter 12; Aksit, Chapter 13) are not wrong. They are too simple. We need to work out more complex models; much more complex. I know that I am not able to do so. Others may be more confident.

Values Again All these changes cause new, sometimes intense suffering, and a host of perceived injustices and grievances. So did similar changes in Europe and the USA; and have already (with worse to come?) in fommer socialist countries now attempting a market economy and democratie polities. For Turkey, the suffering apart, there are those who lament the Mereedes eulture of the idle rieh, the nationalisation of loeal 'folk' musie, the transformation of the five days of village weddings into an evening in a hired hall with the bride in a white European dress, the arrival of western symphony orehestras, and nouvelle vogue films in Turkish elite 'eulture'. Not to mention diseussions of the 'peripheralisation' of the Turkish eeonomy; its subordination to westem based multinationals, intemational banks, and the interests of the G7; the 'forced' rural urban migration, consumerism, sharp and growing inequalities, and secularism, agnosticism and anti-secularism. Not surprising that some of Delaney's village infommants share her suspicions of modernism and progress (Chapter 10).

But I do not want to reverse it all. I would not want my best

village friend's gelin, who was saved by caesarian in the Kayseri University hospital, to have died with her child, as she would have in 1950. Nor do I want people to be walking in the snow without shoes, shivering because their supply of cattle dung cakes has run out before the end ot winter, nor secing their children weedy from malnutrition.

CROWIHAND CHANGES 15

The extolletPs and the denouncers of modetvnisat:ion, or capitalism, are both highly selective. How can anyone make an overall moral judgement on all these processes of change? They have happened: the results are there.

As an anthropologist, l am patt of a collective effott to understand them. l

find the complexity incredibly difficult to analyse. As a moral person, I have my own fitin views and I hold that understanding social processes is relevant both to judgements, and to framing

Notes

1. I first realised the starlling speed of growth in the first two decades from

tables 3.2 (p.46) and 4.5 and 4.6 (pp.76-7), in Hale 1981, based on Bulutay et al. 1974. See also tables 5.10 (pp. 108) and 7.2, 7.3 (pp.1323), based on DSI 1973, and more recent official sources. See, e.g., Turkey Economy, Aug. 1992, p.47.

2. All school children in Turkey declare daily in unison how fortunate they

are to be Turks; to the surprise of visiting foreign children - recent personal communication from foreign children.

3. 'The poor are not just living off the crumbs from the rich man's table,

they are being asked to put the crumbs back', David Bryer, Oxfam director,Observer 11 Octobor 1992.

4. Of course I am not claiming any demographic rigour. My reasons for not

following up the households of married daughters, and daughters' daughlers, as well as thosc of married sons and sons' sons, were largely pragmatic; but also relatcd to the perceptions and knowledge of my largely male informants. The decision was taken in 1950, and irreversible.

5. All published numbers are calculated from economic models. Hard empirical

evidonce that unemployment is now serious and growing rests on widesprcad personal impressions. Certainly in 1986, the greater part of the village and migrant houscholds which I knew had at last an adequatc income, and many were comfortable. I knew of very few adult men who could be callcd 'unemployed', on a long term basis. The majority worked intcrmittcntly; andX cxccpt at harvcst, most men present in thc village at any onc timc had littlc to do. By contrast, David Shankland commcnting on this notc, rcponed pcrsonally a large amount of unemploymcnt in thc Alevi villagc which hc studied, and among its migrants (Chaptcr 4).

ll~~ CULTURE AND ECONOMY

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ . _ _ , _ _ _ _

Notice that Turkish has no word for 'peasant'; koylu - villager - is not 'peasant,' though most peasants are koylu, and most koylu peasants. cf. Keyder (Chapter 12).

The idea of two separate urban economies is nonsense, at least in Turkey. Attempts to make this point in Turkey. even privately. normally arouse combative resentrnont. One 'objective', if foolish, public attempt cost me, in my view of reality, a year of research time. People see organisation, not as something which needs slow cultural learning, but as a natural national virtue. Even to raise it for discussion is insulting. But human societies do vary sharply in the style and effeetiveness of their organisational culture. In 1923, notwithstanding the renowned Ottoman efficiency in earlier times, the Republic of Turkey began to imodernise' with 80% peasants and 90% illiteracy; it did not have an easy road to modern erScicncy

It is difficult not to slip into writing about villagers as inferior. even as toolish, because they lack specitic kinds of experience and information. Emphatically, they are not. But I fear thore may be examples in my own writings; and certainly elsewhere in this book.

Have I got it wrong? If not, how does this affect public and private sector efficiency?

In a paper about our research delivered to the M.E.S.A. Conference, October,1992, Incirlioglu gives specific examples of the way reality is