Transferring Technical Knowledge to Turkey: American Engineers, Scientific Experts, and the Erzincan Earthquake of 1939

Author(s):  
Tanfer Emin Tunc ◽  
Gokhan Tunc

On 27 December 1939, a 7.8 magnitude earthquake struck Erzincan, Turkey, claiming close to 33 000 lives, and leaving 100 000 injured and 250 000 homeless. World War II was in its initial stages, and the USA was particularly concerned about the vulnerable situation in Turkey, since there was a possibility that it would join forces with Germany, as the Ottoman Empire had done in World War I. Consequently, the Turkish request for information on ‘a type of quake resistant concrete construction understood to have been developed in California’, resulted in a flurry of correspondence between numerous Turkish and American actors, including the US State Department, which supplied this material with notable attentiveness. As this article will argue, this request not only represents an early critical juncture in the transfer of earthquake engineering knowledge from the USA to Turkey, but also illustrates how diplomacy and engineering can intersect at pivotal points in time. Engineers and other scientific experts strengthened the Turkish–American relationship during this period, thereby laying the foundation of the technical cooperation that would flourish during the Cold War. This watershed moment also resulted in immediate developments in Turkey, such as the development of a comprehensive national disaster management programme, a seismic zone map, and earthquake building codes.

2017 ◽  
Vol 6 (4) ◽  
pp. 178-180
Author(s):  
Sergey Olegovich Buranok

No research in the colonial system issues during the Cold War would be complete without studying the press of the participating parties. In order to give a detailed analysis of the international relationships in terms of the global transformations from the American point of view, the author draws relevant newspaper articles published after the World War II. The results have shown changes to priority schemes as viewed in American social discourse during 1945. Roosevelts plan for the dismantling of the colonial empires was gradually replaced with less radical plans, which presupposed using the colonial experience for foreign policy of the USA. Immediately after the end of the Second World War, the US press began to re-examine its attitude towards the colonial issue. The US media were clearly shifting from criticism to a deeper and more comprehensive analysis of both the system itself as a whole and British colonial management experience, openly acknowledging that in this context, historic ties, conflict resolution and local elite management experience may have turned out to be more useful than loyalty to abstract principles. At the end of 1945-1946 there were tendencies in the US press to change from the position of an interested observer to an active participant in the colonial problem.


Istoriya ◽  
2021 ◽  
Vol 12 (6 (104)) ◽  
pp. 0
Author(s):  
Sergey Buranok

No research in the colonial system issues during the Cold War would be complete without studying the press of the participating parties. In order to give a detailed analysis of the international relationships in terms of the global transformations from the American point of view, the author draws relevant newspaper articles published after the World War II. The results have shown changes to priority schemes as viewed in American social discourse during 1945—1948. Roosevelt’s plan for the dismantling of the colonial empires was gradually replaced with less radical plans, which presupposed using the colonial experience for foreign policy of the USA.


2017 ◽  
Vol 19 (1) ◽  
pp. 55-75 ◽  
Author(s):  
Katherine Jenness

This paper explores the way American intellectuals depicted Sigmund Freud during the peak of popularity and prestige of psychoanalysis in the US, roughly the decade and a half following World War II. These intellectuals insisted upon the unassailability of Freud's mind and personality. He was depicted as unsusceptible to any external force or influence, a trait which was thought to account for Freud's admirable comportment as a scientist, colleague and human being. This post-war image of Freud was shaped in part by the Cold War anxiety that modern individuality was imperilled by totalitarian forces, which could only be resisted by the most rugged of selves. It was also shaped by the unique situation of the intellectuals themselves, who were eager to position themselves, like the Freud they imagined, as steadfastly independent and critical thinkers who would, through the very clarity of their thought, lead America to a more robust democracy.


2021 ◽  
Vol 53 (4) ◽  
pp. 691-702
Author(s):  
Firoozeh Kashani-Sabet

In 1946, the entertainer and activist Paul Robeson pondered America's intentions in Iran. In what was to become one of the first major crises of the Cold War, Iran was fighting a Soviet aggressor that did not want to leave. Robeson posed the question, “Is our State Department concerned with protecting the rights of Iran and the welfare of the Iranian people, or is it concerned with protecting Anglo-American oil in that country and the Middle East in general?” This was a loaded question. The US was pressuring the Soviet Union to withdraw its troops after its occupation of the country during World War II. Robeson wondered why America cared so much about Soviet forces in Iranian territory, when it made no mention of Anglo-American troops “in countries far removed from the United States or Great Britain.” An editorial writer for a Black journal in St. Louis posed a different variant of the question: Why did the American secretary of state, James F. Byrnes, concern himself with elections in Iran, Arabia or Azerbaijan and yet not “interfere in his home state, South Carolina, which has not had a free election since Reconstruction?”


2020 ◽  
Vol 9 (2) ◽  
Author(s):  
Kimia Zare ◽  
Habibollah Saeeidinia

Iran and Russia have common interests, especially in political terms, because of the common borders and territorial neighborhood. This has led to a specific sensitivity to how the two countries are approaching each other. Despite the importance of the two countries' relations, it is observed that in the history of the relations between Iran and Russia, various issues and issues have always been hindered by the close relations between the two countries. The beginning of Iran-Soviet relations during the Second Pahlavi era was accompanied by issues such as World War II and subsequent events. The relations between the two countries were influenced by the factors and system variables of the international system, such as the Cold War, the US-Soviet rivalry, the Second World War and the entry of the Allies into Iran, the deconstruction of the relations between the two post-Cold War superpowers, and so on.The main question of the current research is that the political relations between Iran and Russia influenced by the second Pahlavi period?To answer this question, the hypothesis was that Iran's political economic relations were fluctuating in the second Pahlavi era and influenced by the changing system theory of the international system with the Soviet Union. The findings suggest that various variables such as the structure of the international system and international events, including World War II, the arrival of controversial forces in Iran, the Cold War, the post-Cold War, the US and Soviet policies, and the variables such as the issue of oil Azerbaijan's autonomy, Tudeh's actions in Iran, the issue of fisheries and borders. Also, the policies adopted by Iranian politicians, including negative balance policy, positive nationalism and independent national policy, have affected Iran-Soviet relations. In a general conclusion, from 1320 (1942) to 1357 (1979), the relationship between Iran and Russia has been an upward trend towards peaceful coexistence. But expansion of further relations in the economic, technical and cultural fields has been political rather than political.


Author(s):  
James Mark ◽  
Quinn Slobodian

This chapter places Eastern Europe into a broader history of decolonization. It shows how the region’s own experience of the end of Empire after the World War I led its new states to consider their relationships with both European colonialism and those were struggling for their future liberation outside their continent. Following World War II, as Communist regimes took power in Eastern Europe, and overseas European Empires dissolved in Africa and Asia, newly powerful relationships developed. Analogies between the end of empire in Eastern Europe and the Global South, though sometimes tortured and riddled with their own blind spots, were nonetheless potent rhetorical idioms, enabling imagined solidarities and facilitating material connections in the era of the Cold War and non-alignment. After the demise of the so-called “evil empire” of the Soviet Union, analogies between the postcolonial and the postcommunist condition allowed for further novel equivalencies between these regions to develop.


Author(s):  
David Goldfield ◽  

By the time the US formally recognized the Soviet Union in 1933, the American economy was in desperate circumstances. President Roosevelt hoped that the new relationship would generate a prosperous trade between the two countries. When Germany, Italy, and Japan threatened world peace, a vigor- ous “America First” movement developed to keep the US out of the international conflicts. By the time the Germans invaded Poland in September 1939, this be- came increasingly difficult. The US, instead, became “the arsenal of democracy” and supported the efforts of the British and, by 1941, the Russians to defeat Nazi aggression, particularly through the Lend-Lease program. Although after the war, the Soviets tended to minimize American, the residual good will from that effort prevailed despite serious conflicts. The Cold War did not become hot, and even produced scientific and cultural cooperation on occasion.


2021 ◽  
pp. 31-60
Author(s):  
M.I. Franklin

Chapter 2 sets the compass through a work that seems to have little to say about sampling. 4’33” (four thirty-three) by John Cage is based on no (performed) sounds, no flashy pyrotechnics in its execution, nor reverence for the notion of music as a singular, individual creative act, or performance. The chapter considers Cage’s evocation of “silence” as the sampled material that is at stake in this iconic piece. I consider how silence, and silencing work in the context of censorship and social control given that the timeframe for the inception of 4’33” resonates with post-World War II, mid-twentieth-century United States during the Cold War. Engaging with this work can also tell us something about the role of censorship in public arts life half a century later, in the US shortly after the Al Qaeda attacks on September 11, 2001. As I argue, when regarded as a material of music, and thereby as a source from which to “sample” silence, 4’33”offers both a sonic and “sound-less” baseline for the four case studies to follow. “Silence” as rendered in Cage’s work, its wider connotations and evocation of the sensation of sound-filled stillness also serve as a signal for instances of domination, of how oppression can take place quietly, without fanfare. Considering silence as a geocultural, socio-musicological matter allows us a moment to retune our ears and minds by encountering the broader (in)audible domains through, and from which sampling practices take place.


Art History ◽  
2017 ◽  
Author(s):  
Evonne Levy

The rise of the propaganda production in World War I coincided with art history’s consolidation as a discipline. Immediately, the modern category “propaganda” was taken up to describe the relations between art, politics (sacred and secular), and power. After World War II, and in the Cold War, the use of the word “propaganda” shifted and many North American and European art historians resisted the categorization of “art” (associated with freedom) and propaganda (associated with fascist instrumentalization), although historians were less troubled by its use for “images.” The end of the Cold War loosened the prohibition on the term, though many art historians still prefer cognate terms, “persuasion” or “rhetorical,” when pointing to the key element of audience and effectiveness; similarly, many speak of “power,” “politics,” or “ideology” when pointing to institutions and their messages. Because there are alternatives for “propaganda,” the emphasis here is on the literature that have engaged the term itself and the problems it poses to art history, including its ongoing toxicity. Because propaganda arts are so closely associated with the modern regimes that perfected their use (communist Russia, fascist Italy, Nazi Germany), one of the major questions in the art historical literature is the appropriateness of the concept before the 20th century and for nonautocratic regimes. While some periods have attracted the term more than others, since Foucault and post–Cold War, there has been at once an understanding of all institutions, sacred and secular, as imbricated in power relations and on the other, a relaxation of rigid definitions of propaganda as “deceptive” or “manipulative.” These factors have opened scholars in art history considerably to a use of the term, although a reductive understanding of propaganda as inherently deceptive still persists. Three main criteria were used in compiling this article: periods of political upheaval or change in government that have attracted the term in particularly dense ways and generated dialogue over these issues; works that explicitly frame the study of objects as propaganda or substitute terms, rhetoric, persuasion, and ideology; and works by historians of images that explicitly engage with the category of propaganda (excluding, with a few exceptions, popular forms like posters as well as film, television, and digital media). Whenever possible, propaganda’s specificity is insisted on here in relation to art, for art poses special problems to the use of the word propaganda, and its invocation in art history often makes an explicit point.


Author(s):  
Kambiz GhaneaBassiri

The history of Muslims in America dates back to the transatlantic mercantile interactions between Europe, Africa, and the Americas. Upon its arrival, Islam became entrenched in American discourses on race and civilization because literate and noble African Muslims, brought to America as slaves, had problematized popular stereotypes of Muslims and black Africans. Furthermore, these enslaved Muslims had to re-evaluate and reconfigure their beliefs and practices to form new communal relations and to make sense of their lives in America. At the turn of the 20th century, as Muslim immigrants began arriving in the United States from the Middle East, Eastern Europe, and South Asia, they had to establish themselves in an America in which the white race, Protestantism, and progress were conflated to define a triumphalist American national identity, one that allowed varying levels of inclusion for Muslims based on their ethnic, racial, and national backgrounds. The enormous bloodshed and destruction experienced during World War I ushered in a crisis of confidence in the ideals of the European Enlightenment, as well as in white, Protestant nationalism. It opened up avenues for alternative expressions of progress, which allowed Muslims, along with other nonwhite, non-Christian communities, to engage in political and social organization. Among these organizations were a number of black religious movements that used Islamic beliefs, rites, and symbols to define a black Muslim national identity. World War II further shifted America, away from the religious competition that had earlier defined the nation’s identity and toward a “civil religion” of American democratic values and political institutions. Although this inclusive rhetoric was received differently along racial and ethnic lines, there was an overall appeal for greater visibility for Muslims in America. After World War II, increased commercial and diplomatic relations between the United States and Muslim-majority countries put American Muslims in a position, not only to relate Islam and America in their own lives but also to mediate between the varying interests of Muslim-majority countries and the United States. Following the civil rights legislation of the 1950s and 1960s and the passage of the Immigration Act of 1965, Muslim activists, many of whom had been politicized by anticolonial movements abroad, established new Islamic institutions. Eventually, a window was opened between the US government and American Muslim activists, who found a common enemy in communism following the Soviet occupation of Afghanistan in the 1980s. Since the late 1960s, the number of Muslims in the United States has grown significantly. Today, Muslims are estimated to constitute a little more than 1 percent of the US population. However, with the fall of the Soviet Union and the rise of the United States as the sole superpower in the world, the United States has come into military conflict with Muslim-majority countries and has been the target of attacks by militant Muslim organizations. This has led to the cultivation of the binaries of “Islam and the West” and of “good” Islam and “bad” Islam, which have contributed to the racialization of American Muslims. It has also interpolated them into a reality external to their history and lived experiences as Muslims and Americans.


Sign in / Sign up

Export Citation Format

Share Document