Citizenship ethics: German-Turkish return migrants,belonging,and justice

Elucidating the ethical dimensions of citizenship, belonging, and justice

This research is situated in the anthropology of ethics, an emerging research field encompassing studies of human striving for what is right and good in relation to religiosity, law, war, sexuality, economies, language, biotechnology, globalization, and more (cf. Fassin and Lézé, 2014; Faubion, 2011; Keane, 2015; Lambek, 2010b; Zigon, 2008). While anthropologists use a variety of approaches to study ethics, one dominant approach has been called Aristotelian-Foucauldian (cf. Zigon, 2009). Aristotelian-Foucauldian frameworks prioritize the striving to be virtuous rather than moral norms and pay close attention to actor’s self-reflection and self-fashioning. Anthropologists stress practice and action as opposed to Kantian reason, which is not surprising given their disciplinary focus on the actor’s point of view and lived experiences (Faubion, 2001, 2011; Lambek, 2010a: 7). One of the key goals for anthropologists studying ethics is to de-emphasize analyses of “structure, power and interest” (Lambek, 2010a: 1), which have long been the major preoccupation of research agendas in anthropology and related social sciences. Foucault’s (1997) later work on ethics has been influential as he pointed the way from a focus on the totalizing, deterministic dimensions of power to a focus on its productive and creative dimensions. He described ethics as “the practice of freedom” arising from subjects’ reflections on their relationship with themselves (p. 284). Anthropologists have found that their interlocutors routinely reflect upon their actions and act from a sense of their own dignity and with respect for the dignity of others (Lambek, 2010c: 40). Just as it is vital to understand the power and marginalization that subjects experience, it is also vital to examine the relationships of care and responsibility that motivate and inspire them.

This article adds to the study of ethics in contexts of migration, which has only recently begun to receive attention (cf. Fassin, 2012; Jackson, 2013). Like other anthropologists placing ethics at the center of analysis, I engage with the ethical to de-emphasize the analytical focus on power. To understand citizenship for Rückkehrer Stammtisch meeting attendees, it is important to examine governance relations, the role of German and Turkish laws and policing in citizens’ lives, and the fact that these migrants occupy privileged social positions. ⁷ But, it is also necessary to explore the ethical reflections that matter to them as they craft an ideal community. In other words, how do their complaints about a lack of respectful and equal treatment in Germany and Turkey inform our understanding of their struggle for community?

Examining ethical citizenship enables me to add to our conceptual understanding of belonging. Scholars are increasingly conceptualizing citizenship as a form of belonging (e.g. Lovell, 1998; Yuval-Davis, 2006), particularly among migrant groups (e.g. Castles and Davidson, 2000; Reed-Danahay and Brettell, 2008; Rosaldo and Flores, 1998). In this article, I cast an ethnographic lens onto the ways migrants forge belonging through shared ethical reflections and relationships. Despite the many existing studies of belonging, scholars share a sense that they “actually know very little about what belonging stands for and how it is claimed” (Antonsich, 2010: 644; see also Anthias, 2006: 19; Crowley, 1999: 17). Largely missing in this literature are considerations of how experiences in daily life have ethical significances and how ethical reflections foster local or transnational attachments. As Nira Yuval-Davis (2006) suggests in her study of British national projects, belonging “is not just about social locations and constructions of individual and collective identities and attachments, but also about the ways these are valued and judged” (p. 203). My aim here is to examine how citizens share reflections upon the ethical dimensions of belonging and how this sharing creates an ethical community at Rückkehrer Stammtisch meetings—a community of caring, esteemed, equals. This analysis of ethical relationships provides a window onto how belonging translates into claims of identity or feelings of comfort and intimacy. Specifically, I argue that migrants’ identifications and feelings of belonging as group members, cosmopolitans, Germans, and Turks emerge as they reflect on issues of respect and equality at meetings. In short, belonging is built through reflections on everyday shared ethical experiences.

This research moves beyond studies of citizenship that focus on the legal status and rights bestowed by states (Bloemraad, 2006; Kymlicka, 1995; Tate, 2013; Zeiderman, 2013) or on the ways states subjectify citizens and differentiate citizens according to class and ethno-national identity (Bosniak, 2006; Greenhouse, 2011; Holston, 2008; Ong, 2003; Parla, 2011). Instead, my work argues for the importance of an ethics of justice for understanding how citizenship works. Informed by classic philosophical works elucidating the importance of fairness and equality among citizens (Habermas, 1998; Rawls, 1999) and more recent work on the societal responsibility to address structural injustices (Blake, 2012; Young, 2010), this article takes particular inspiration from Paul Ricoeur (1992). Ricoeur (1992) combines a focus on narratives and intersubjective relationships with an interest in the role of just institutions for ensuring the attainment of the good life. He claims that ethics is a project of “aiming at the ‘good life’ with and for others, in just institutions” (Ricoeur, 1992: 172). To discuss justice, Ricoeur borrows from Hannah Arendt the idea that power-in-common is potentially positive and beneficial rather than oppressive. The democratic project for Ricoeur involves an attempt to have the “horizontal bond of wanting to live together” prevail “over the irreducibly hierarchical bond of command and authority” (Dauenhauer, 2002: 237). Just institutions need not only be conceived as conventional sociological institutions, but can also refer to the broader structures of “living together as this belongs to a historical community—people, nation, region, and so forth—a structure irreducible to interpersonal relations” (Ricoeur, 1992: 194). This study shows the importance of shared reflections on justice for German-Turks to feel affirmed as citizens. I argue that experiences of justice come from participating in an ethical community.

I begin my exploration of citizenship for these return migrants by describing Rückkehrer Stammtisch meetings and German-Turkish return migration. After laying this groundwork, I focus on returnees’ reflections on respect and equality in Turkey and Germany. Then, I explore migrants shifting identity claims and feelings to demonstrate how a focus on ethical relationships can add to our conceptual understanding of belonging and justice. Ultimately, I show that a focus on ethics has much to add to the study of migration and citizenship as it elucidates how belonging hinges on experiencing just relationships.

At the Rückkehrer Stammtisch

As I enter the Rückkehrer Stammtisch around 7:45 p.m., almost every table is filled and the room is abuzz with flirtatious squeals of laughter, German toasts of “Prost!” or Turkish toasts of “Şerefe!” along with polite discussions about business and mutual acquaintances. I see an empty chair and sit down between a slim, friendly looking young woman with bright, brown eyes and a round-faced man with glasses. ⁸ We exchange names and talk about who we are and why we chose to come tonight. On my right is Ömür, who has come to the meeting alone. She works in the film industry, speaks German and Turkish every day at work and has a passion for Bollywood. She came to the meeting because her German boyfriend is planning to move to Turkey to be with her in the next year and will need a job, so she wanted to network on his behalf. She also tells me she likes meeting other “world citizens.” On my left is Sinan. Today a journalist, his family used to run a luxury hotel in Germany, but his parents have since passed away and the hotel is now closed. A German friend is visiting him, and Sinan decided to take him to the Rückkehrer Stammtisch to see people “who are like Germans in Turkey.” Hearing this prompts Ömür to reflect on the fact that many attendees are not even return migrants, since they were actually born in Germany and are new to Turkey. She adds, “I am discovering Turkey for the first time.” Sinan says, “Yes, we need to help one another.”

Each month, approximately 40–50 people like Ömür and Sinan dress in business casual and gather in Istanbul for gregarious German and Turkish conversation at the Rückkehrer Stammtisch. Meetings are announced via a XING social networking group that lists 1608 members, including almost equal numbers of men and women, most of whom are between 20 and 50 years of age. Ömür and Sinan are typical meeting attendees—they are the adult children of Turks who migrated to West Germany as guest workers between 1960 and 1980. However, not all attendees of the Rückkehrer Stammtisch are descendants of guest workers, as some traveled to Germany in their teens and twenties to pursue educational and business opportunities.

Turkish migration to West Germany began after World War II when guest workers were recruited from several countries, including Turkey, in order to rebuild the economy (Abadan-Unat, 1986, 2002; Akgünduz, 2008; Çağlar, 1995; Mandel, 2008). The German government initially intended that migrants would return to Turkey, but because economic conditions were worse in Turkey, many workers brought their families to join them in the 1970s. Today, Turks are the largest minority group in Germany, with a population of approximately 3 million (Aydin, 2016: 6). Scholars point out that German-Turks face economic, legal, and social difficulties, but are gradually entering the middle class and participating fully in German social life (Ewing, 2008; Mandel, 2008; White, 1997). Simultaneously, migrants are maintaining strong transnational ties with Turkey (Çağlar, 2001). This research builds on previous work, which has explored German-Turks’ sense that they do not feel belonging in Germany and Turkey (Kaya, 2005). Beginning in 2006, the number of migrants traveling to Turkey from Germany exceeded the number of migrants traveling from Turkey to Germany by about 2000 individuals (Pusch and Splitt, 2013: 135), reaching as high as 4000 return migrants per year by 2014. However, trends may be reversing. In 2015, the number of migrants traveling to Germany was greater than those returning to Turkey, by about 2000 individuals. ⁹ Estimates indicate that there are at least 4 million people in Turkey with German migration background (Pusch and Splitt, 2013: 132). Unfortunately, the Turkish government does not maintain statistics on returnees; however, I can provide a sense of return patterns based on 25 months of ethnographic research I conducted on the topic. Most first-generation returnees (~aged 50–75) settle into their natal villages and hometowns and often purchase seaside vacation homes, while second-generation returnees (~aged 30–50) are divided approximately equally between those who return to their parents’ villages and those who pursue employment and other opportunities in Istanbul. Equal numbers of men and women are return migrants. The majority of migrants would be considered middle class in Turkey. They return for a variety of personal and professional reasons. Most attendees of the Rückkehrer Stammtisch return for enhanced professional opportunities, though many also discuss negative experiences in Germany, a love for Istanbul, and a desire to return “home.”

The German-Turks who attend Rückkehrer Stammtisch meetings differ from the majority of German-Turkish return migrants in several respects. First, they are more highly educated and wealthier. Most attendees graduated from elite universities in Germany, and many have advanced degrees. Typically, they work for prestigious German or Turkish companies or institutions, including Mercedes, Siemens, the German government, German and Turkish universities, and German and Turkish newspapers (such as, Der Spiegel and Hürriyet). According to Mehmet, a typical meeting attendee, “The people who go to the meetings are successful and very well-educated. People at the Rückkehrer Stammtisch are not like the original migrants who went as workers.” ¹⁰ With this description, Mehmet not only emphasizes attendees’ class and cultural capital, but also distances himself from the negative image prevalent in Turkey of the lower class, first wave of migrant workers (Çağlar, 1995, 2002).

Attendees of the Rückkehrer Stammtisch can also be distinguished from most other return migrants for their conscious identification as “German-Turks” (Almanyalı, Almancı, Alman-Türk, Deutsch-Türken) and “return migrants” (Rückkehrer) and, quite significantly, for the fact that they have formed a group for themselves. To my knowledge, this is the only return migrant group in Turkey. Their legal status is another way in which attendees differ from other return migrants. After returning to Turkey, many return migrants lose the ability to travel legally to Germany without a lengthy visa application process. But most attendees of Rückkehrer Stammtisch meetings either have German citizenship or a long-term German residence permit. ¹¹

Many, if not most, German-Turkish return migrants could be considered world citizens or cosmopolitans who appreciate a wide variety of cultural elements (Ewing, 2008: 110–115; Mandel, 2008). Yet, few signal their world citizenship as explicitly, as often, and as forcefully as attendees of Rückkehrer Stammtisch meetings. For example, many German-Turkish return migrants show their appreciation for cultural difference, praising what they perceive as “German values,” such as order (düzen) or education (eğitim), and eagerly displaying German goods in Turkey, such as Siemens appliances and Mercedes cars. Many return migrants also complain of disrespect and inequality in Germany and Turkey from time to time. But few migrants overtly call themselves “world citizens” or discuss their distress in the two countries to the same extent that attendees of the Rückkehrer Stammtisch do. Appreciation for cultural exchange, particularly German and Turkish exchange, is often very evident at meetings. For example, meetings are announced with a comic image of German sausages in a jar (see Figure 1). In 2009, meetings were held in the trendy Tünel area at a German restaurant. Returnees often expressed delight at being able to order German foods like pork sausage, Jägerschnitzel, and Maultaschen. ¹² This restaurant eventually closed, and the meetings are now held in a fashionable and expensive restaurant on the top floor of a building overlooking the Golden Horn. At each meeting, there is a speaker or performer (often a German-Turk). Recent presenters have included an author, a singer, an actor, a political activist, a tour guide, a reporter, a professor, a charity worker, and Turkish and German government employees. These presentations relating to Germany or Turkey become moments when returnees reflect upon and express their shared “world citizenship.”

OPEN IN VIEWER

Figure 1.

Image from an e-mail announcement for the Rückkehrer Stammtisch

Returnees repeatedly call for certain social changes in Turkey and Germany and, in fact, spend the majority of their time at meetings reflecting upon Turkish and German citizenships. In the next section, I describe several Rückkehrer Stammtisch meetings and characteristic participants’ reflections on respect (saygı) and equality (eşitlik) in Turkey and Germany.

Reflections on respect and equality in Turkey and Germany

It is 7:30 p.m., the sun is just setting over the Golden Horn, and so far only a few people have arrived at the Rückkehrer Stammtisch. ¹³ I see two men in their fifties, dressed in brown suits with ties, sitting at a table in the corner. They offer friendly smiles from behind the white tablecloth, and I sit down opposite them. They introduce themselves as Berk and Hikmet. With bushy black hair and a stocky frame, Berk bears a striking resemblance to Ilyas Salman, the lead character in the popular film about a German-Turkish return migrant, Yellow Mercedes (1987). Hikmet’s balding head and gray beard brings a kindly grandfather to my mind. After a few minutes, Necla, a smiling young woman in her late twenties with long, curly brown hair, sits down next to me. As is customary at these meetings, Berk, Hikmet, and Necla begin discussing their experiences as return migrants. For example, Berk remarks on his unhappiness in Turkey, explaining, “The buses are too crowded, but still the drivers tell people to push back to let more people onto the bus…. This is disrespectful (saygısızlık)! In Turkey, there is no respect for people, no rights, no law. Whoever is powerful is right.” His exasperation resulted in him repeatedly asking the bus drivers: “Are you moving animals or people?” While one might blame economic disparities for differences in state services in Germany and Turkey, migrants like Berk see such instances as the treatment of Turkish citizens on buses as symbolic of the state’s disrespect for citizens in everyday life.

Soon after Berk’s comments, the conversation between Hikmet and Necla turns to perceived problems surrounding women’s rights in Turkey. Hikmet and Berk explain that they come to the meetings to raise awareness about their work with Turkish migrants, which involves informing them about visa procedures and women’s rights in Germany. The meetings offer a unique forum where returnees can comfortably discuss such issues as gender roles and women’s rights informally in small groups and with the entire assemblage. For instance, at one Rückkehrer Stammtisch meeting, Zehra, herself a German-Turk, presented on her work for an NGO that runs campaigns to increase Turkish women’s participation in politics. ¹⁴ With a quiet confidence, she explained that she notices gender inequality in daily life in the form of men’s only coffee houses and a lack of women in management positions at Turkish companies. Zehra’s presentation prompted a lively and friendly discussion, with returnees expressing agreement about the need for more rights for women in Turkey, and Zehra encouraging them to participate in her group. Through discussions such as these, returnees negotiate a shared sense of themselves as concerned Turkish citizens trying to improve life in Turkey for themselves and others.

Returnees’ characterizations of disrespect and inequality they encounter in Turkey are strikingly similar to their characterizations of disrespect and inequality in Germany: they emphasize the everyday nature of occurrences in both countries and seek opportunities at meetings to address these issues as a group. When reflecting on Germany, however, they point to disrespect toward ethnic minorities, namely, Turks, rather than to a lack of respect for citizens generally. Thus, we could say, returnees’ concerns regarding citizenship diverge to the extent that they are concerned about citizenship broadly in Turkey, while they are concerned about ethnic or minority groups—citizens’ inclusion—in Germany. ¹⁵ Common to their discussions of experiences in both national milieus are issues of respect and equality.

For example, during dinner with two migrants, Fırat and Serkan, the conversation turned to the treatment of Turks in Germany. ¹⁶ Fırat, a computing consultant, returned to Turkey from Germany 2 years ago, but his friend, Serkan, works for a German bank and is only in Turkey for a short time to complete a work project. Serkan came to the meeting to spend time with his friends, Fırat and Natasha, and explained, “I would like to stay in Turkey, but I cannot find a job that will pay me what I am worth.” Sipping a beer, Firat’s wife, Natasha interjected, “I love Germany and miss it there so much!” Fırat frowned and began talking with Serkan about the negative sides of life in Germany for Turks. “Turks are never accepted in Germany” Serkan explained. “I feel like an alien because I can see the good and bad sides of both countries, but I don’t know what to do to improve or change them. Germany is a nice place, except that it is filled with Germans.” Fırat described uncomfortable situations in which Germans made jokes about Turks, but turned to him and said, “I’m not talking about you; you’re not like those other Turks.”

I observed this phenomenon of ethnic joking directly at one meeting, when a German journalist for the Süddeutsche Zeitung told a variety of ethnic jokes about mistakes made at a Turkish hospital and Turks’ supposed inability to give directions and follow maps. ¹⁷ While many attendees laughed, one attendee, Barış, told Mehmet, “I hated that talk! I am so sick of hearing these stereotypes about Turks from German businessmen!” Mehmet later explained to me that he thinks Germans are “very limited in their view of the world. Europe as a civilization has no understanding and respect for other civilizations.” Such jokes are seen as a manifestation of disrespect that migrants claim to experience in their daily lives in Germany, which leads to discomfort in workplaces and in society more broadly.

As these descriptions show, at Rückkehrer Stammtisch meetings, attendees share their concerns about ethical relationships in Turkey and Germany. For the migrants who attend the Rückkehrer Stammtisch, belonging as citizens means participating in a system or community that they perceive as “right” or “good.” Justice and injustice are not abstract ideals, but are actually experienced as respect and disrespect, and equality and inequality among citizens. As Paul Ricoeur (1992) points out in his discussion of ethics and justice, it is not simply rules and laws that ensure justice, but the institutionalization of shared ethical aims. I am not suggesting that we should be blind to the power relations that create everyday perceptions of justice, nor that we should forget the particular class position of these migrants, but I do want to recast the question of power to explore how visions of citizenship are also about crafting an ideal local community. Citizenship for these migrants is manifest via relationships of care as well as power.

At meetings, attendees forge relationships with fellow citizens who they believe share their experiences. These relationships are the infrastructure of mutually negotiated belongings that create a sense of community at meetings.

Turkish and German community belongings

The Rückkehrer Stammtisch is a network for returnees navigating Turkish personal and professional milieus. For example, at one meeting, Nazım, an aspiring art producer, described to Mehmet how an art show he had recently organized was canceled by the gallery before it even opened. ¹⁸ He was frustrated because he had invested significant time and money into the project. Mehmet became animated and explained to Nazım that he must never enter into verbal agreements in Turkey; he must always have a written contract. However, even if he has a contract, he should not trust that the contract will be upheld. Mehmet offered to help with future projects, and explained, “It is your membership in a network, not who you are as an individual, that matters in Turkey.” Nazım appeared to appreciate the advice of someone who had more experience than him in Turkey, responding, “Really, I didn’t know that I would have to be so careful.” On the groups’ XING website, hundreds of posts deal with similar tips about navigating professional life in Turkey.

Returnees also discuss their difficulties in Germany. At one Rückkehrer Stammtisch meeting, during a question-and-answer session, Başar, a middle-aged returnee working for a Turkish bank, exclaimed, “I know that a Turk will never run a German bank like Deutsche Bank or a German company like Mercedes.” ¹⁹ He asserted that despite his university education and years of banking experience, his career prospects in Germany were severely limited, while in Turkey he has been able to become a bank manager. In both countries, German-Turks feel excluded from paths to success, concluding that network membership in Turkey and ethnic identity in Germany are necessary.

In addition to practical professional assistance, migrants use discussions about their dissatisfactions in Turkey and Germany to assert their similarity to each other and their differences from non-migrants in each country. For example, Zehra and Mesut discussed the corruption said to permeate Istanbul’s European Capital of Culture 2010 event planning committee. ²⁰ At the time, Mesut was consulting for a project that would be a part of the events. Zehra exclaimed, “Corruption is inherent in everything in this country. All German-Turkish return migrants are frustrated (rahatsız) for this reason when they return to Turkey.” Mesut heartily agreed. Referring to his experiences on crowded buses, Berk stated, “People in Turkey have no consciousness (bilinç). If they see another way of life, they will not think this is normal.” ²¹ Hikmet and Necla agreed and proceeded to share their own stories about moments when they realized that their perspective was different from that of non-migrants. Crucially, though they claim a shared “frustration” or “consciousness” that makes the treatment of citizens in Turkey seem abnormal, returnees like Zehra and Berk are not focused on transcending Turkish citizenship. Rather, they choose to use their perspective to advocate for reform in Turkey. Zehra works directly with an organization aimed at improving citizens’ rights in Turkey, while Berk raises his voice against disrespect in daily life. Zehra and Berk gather support for their views and projects at Rückkehrer Stammtisch meetings. Yet, despite the numerous complaints attendees air at meetings, by and large, the meetings result in little concrete political output or coordinated activism. Their world citizenship is a far cry from political struggles to form a global democratic community (e.g. Held, 2010). Further, though many meeting attendees think their perspective is unique, many non-migrants share their views about state services and rights. Lamenting state corruption is actually a common modality of discussing the political in Turkey (Kuzmanovic, 2011; Navaro-Yashin, 2002) and can be seen as a means of asserting a rueful national belonging (Herzfeld, 2005). In this regard, returnees’ criticisms of the Turkish nation are claims of belonging in the nation that are not wholly distinct from other citizens’ claims. Most lower and middle class German-Turks likewise share many of their concerns about discrimination in Germany (cf. Mandel, 2008). Despite shared interests and goals, it is clear that when Rückkehrer Stammtisch attendees discuss respect and equality, they are referring to the needs of highly trained individuals like themselves. Yet, while their vision of an ethical community and justice is perhaps limited, attendees do articulate widespread and legitimate shared concerns about liberal citizenship (cf. Mandel, 2008; Walton, 2013; White, 2012). Furthermore, the frequency with which these migrants discuss respect and equality in national realms demonstrates the centrality of ethics for them. And, this is all the more striking because it emerges through conversations among those who are largely unmoored from nations.

Returnees make diverse claims regarding their ethno-national identities at meetings. For example, when explaining to Nazım about the importance of networks in Turkey, Mehmet asserted, “Turks still live in clans. They are Beşiktaş or Fenerbahçe. ²² Or laik ²³ … Or they are Ismail Ağa Cemiyeti’nin takipçisi. ²⁴ … I am outside of this…. Being Europeanized means trying to leave clans and become an individual.” ²⁵ Drawing on well-known and heavily critiqued stereotypes about “Western” individualism (cf. Abu-Lughod, 1991; Langford, 2002; Lipset, 2004), Mehmet links an ethical aim of respect for individuals’ merit (as opposed to “clan affiliation”) to ethnic and national spaces—Europe versus Turkey. And, in this instance, he claims a European belonging because of this ethical aim. Mehmet wants to emphasize that his “European-ness” means he is not likely to judge others based on their affiliations alone. However, it is noteworthy that in making his claim, he seeks to exclude a majority of Turks who he considers inferior because of their class or religious backgrounds.

When Mehmet reflects on his feelings of belonging in Germany, he signals his “Turkish-ness,” rather than “European-ness.” For example, at one meeting he discussed his feelings about a presentation by Prof. Maria Böhmer, a representative of the German government’s Ministry for Immigration, Refugees and Integration, who spoke on the 50th anniversary of German-Turkish migration. ²⁶ He opined, “I appreciate her seemingly heartfelt sentiments about including Turks in Germany, but I know that her views do not represent the views of most Germans who do not want Turks in Germany.” In an interview, he explained:

In the Levantine countries, like Lebanon and Turkey where you have mosque, synagogue and church together in good times, ethnic and religious co-existence functioned. My family had to flee from Spain in the 15th century. They came to the Ottoman Empire and could co-exist with Greeks and Jews. This never happened in Europe, and so Europeans don’t accept or respect different cultures. ²⁷

Often Mehmet claimed to be “Europeanized.” But, at some moments, he claimed belonging in Turkey and aligned himself with what he described as a “Turkish” appreciation for ethnic and religious diversity. Incidentally, while returnees’ claims about discrimination in Germany are well-supported by scholarly work (e.g. Blaschke and Sabanovic, 2004; Ewing, 2008; Mandel, 2008), claims about ethnic and religious tolerance of minorities in Turkey are not well-supported, with numerous studies describing discrimination against Kurds, Armenians, Greeks, Jews, Alevis, and other minorities (cf. Bali, 1999; Brink-Danan, 2012; Mills, 2010). Nevertheless, the key point here is that, regardless of whether returnees are identifying with the Turkish or German nation, their claims are linked to ethical treatment and draw on the same criteria of respect and equality.

Reflecting on their sense of belonging in either country can often prompt negative emotions for returnees. Sinan claimed to feel isolated and fearful in Turkey. Despite being politically active in Germany, Sinan worried that political involvement in Turkey could end his career as a journalist. As an illustration, this fear prompted him to ask a non-citizen English speaker to edit a manuscript he wrote about Islamists in Turkey, which he hoped to publish in an English-language journal. He explained that he did not feel safe having a Turkish citizen act as editor, because this might lead to legal trouble, affecting the possibility of his promotion or worse: threats on his life. Sitting at his desk at work, Sinan related, “I don’t trust anyone anymore. Paranoia is sometimes better than to be relaxed. If I was too lazy, I do not know if I would be successful, but I cannot mention anything here in case people are listening.” ²⁸ Another migrant, Engin, elaborated on why he did not want to participate in the annual 1st May Labor Day protests in Taksim Square. “Turkey is not like Germany,” he explained. “This is not a free country.” ²⁹ Sinan and Engin find life in Turkey not only uncomfortable, but also dangerous, because they feel institutions and laws do not adequately protect citizens’ rights. Ricoeur’s (1992) discussion of ethics and justice emphasizes the necessity of “just institutions” because such institutions ensure equality among people who do not know each other through intimate, one-on-one ethical negotiations (p. 202). For these returnees, this perceived absence of institutionalized justice in Turkey diminishes their feeling of belonging and even makes daily life “scary.” Meetings are a place where they share personal stories and thereby institutionalize justice.

Reflecting on experiences in Germany, returnees also describe negative feelings, relating how discrimination makes them feel like outsiders or lesser citizens. As I discussed earlier, Serkan claimed to feel like an “alien” in Germany. Bilge, a well-dressed middle-aged woman, told stories similar to those told by Serkan’s friend, Firat, of colleagues assuring her that she “was not a typical Turk,” thereby conveying that she was “the exception to the rule.” In response to an author’s presentation on German-Turkish migration, she told the assembled group that despite her professional success, “no matter what, I was still a second class citizen in Germany. I was not treated as an equal person (Mensch) to Germans.” ³⁰ Interestingly, when discussing this issue, Bilge code-switches, using the German word for human, “Mensch,” but otherwise speaking Turkish. In doing so, she emphasizes that, for Germans, humanness and, by extension, equality among citizens in a human community, is deeply connected to German language—and ultimately to being German. Although migrants like Serkan, Firat, and Bilge are professionally successful, they perceive that many Germans do not view Turks as their equals—these perceptions stemming from their experiences with ethnic jokes, derogatory allusions to “typical Turks,” and observations regarding the absence of Turks at the highest levels of management. At Rückkehrer Stammtisch meetings, a clear link emerges between attendees’ reflections on interactions with fellow citizens and state institutions, their aspirations for equality and respect, their identifications as Turkish or German, and their negative feelings (discomfort, frustration, and fear) about belonging.

As many scholars note, belonging is an affective experience of acceptance, closeness, safety, and intimacy, which is interconnected with notions of identification with others in various spheres (Antonsich, 2010; Lovell, 1998; Yuval-Davis, 2006; Yuval-Davis et al., 2006). But, I argue, we can only fully grasp these emotions and identities of belonging by examining how they are crafted through ethical relationships and interactions with others. Belonging is forged, experienced, and challenged during everyday interactions. Through reflection, these experiences become a basis for migrants to identify as Turkish and German. In other words, practical experiences with laws, institutions, and fellow citizens shape and reshape citizens’ ethical relationships with their state and with each other and provide the ground for making claims of belongings that extend beyond the legal claim to citizenship. The Rückkehrer Stammtisch meetings then, become a key site where returnees share their experiences of respect and equality and enact their vision of a just community. And, in so doing, they craft the presences that make citizenship meaningful.

Notions of justice are shaped by power, class interests, and ideas of ethnic difference. But concern with justice for citizens is also concern for mutual wellbeing and the crafting of better selves. Citizenship matters to individuals because it confers a “sense of responsibility and dignity in their relations with other people” (Greenhouse, 2011: 262). In fact, for returnees, experiences of justice seem to be not only about achieving power and worldly success, but actually a means of realizing their community membership. When reflecting on the ethics of citizenship at Rückkehrer Stammtisch meetings, returnees often explicitly link citizenship to an experience of acceptance. According to Ricoeur (2000 (1995)), “It is as citizens that we become human. The wish to live within just institutions signifies nothing else” (pp. xv–xvi). The connection that Ricoeur draws between justice and citizens’ participation in a human community is borne out ethnographically in this work with return migrants. Returnees repeatedly discuss how respect and equality are linked to their community inclusion. Without justice, returnees feel they are treated as less than other members—like “animals,” according to Berk or “clan members,” according to Mehmet. Serkan says he feels like “an alien,” while Bilge claims to not be a “Mensch”—not a human being—in the eyes of Germans. Without respect and equality—without just relationships and just institutions—returnees feel robbed of their citizenship.

Conclusion

In examining how this group of German-Turks negotiates citizenship at Rückkehrer Stammtisch meetings, this article addressed scholarly work on ethics, citizenship, belonging, and justice. First, I showed that focusing on ethics highlights critical components of citizenship and national identification that are often overlooked in studies of legal systems, state power, and citizens’ duties. For these German-Turkish return migrants, ethical relationships are the crux of citizenship. They consider it essential that laws and institutions reflect ethical aims, which ensure respectful treatment and equality of citizens. As with other work in the anthropology of ethics that seeks to look beyond power as the only motivator of human action (e.g. Lambek, 2010a: 1), the article stresses that struggles over belonging in national communities are also struggles over “the right” and “the good” as much as struggles over power and domination. Institutions of justice (laws, state offices, state officials, etc.) reflect power structures, but also the institutionalization of shared power—the power stemming from coming together as a community. For these returnees, shared power is experienced at Rückkehrer Stammtisch meetings. This research demonstrates the centrality of ethical relationships in nations, even for citizens who are self-consciously citizens of the world.

The article also examined how belonging is played out through shared ethical reflections in order to enhance our conceptual and ethnographic understanding of the concept. I argued that we can gain a richer understanding of processes of group formation and identification—of citizens’ belonging—if we focus on shared ethical reflections. These migrants’ shifting and hybrid ethno-national identities are not the starting point for claims of belonging, but emerge at meetings as a part of ethical reflections on national justice. Likewise, feelings of belonging are not themselves at the root of claims to belonging. The ethical—returnees’ reflections on respect and equality, in this case—are the source of these return migrants’ comfort or discomfort, and happiness or fear. Their identities and emotions of belonging are driven by their ethical reflections on experiences in national spaces.

For example, Mehmet’s claims about his “Europeanness” or Turks’ (supposed) greater acceptance for cultural and religious diversity emerge through reflections on the ethics of respectful and equal treatment—in professional contexts in Turkey and in social interactions with ethnic Germans in Germany. His ethno-national belonging is thus a process of identification emerging with and through his ethical reflections and interactions at the Rückkehrer Stammtisch. Similarly, Berk and Engin’s feelings of insecurity and fear, Mesut and Zehra’s feelings of frustration, and Sinan’s paranoia are all linked to experiences of inequality and lack of respect on the part of the state or among citizens, and they emerge with and through relationships at the Rückkehrer Stammtisch. In sum, to truly understand belonging as an identity and an emotion, it is essential to attend to the shared reflections and ethical relationships that give meaning to belonging.

In examining the role of justice in conceptions and experiences of citizenship, this analysis provided “case material” to support the “hypothetical instances” and “reified abstractions” that are common in many philosophical theories of ethics (cf. Lambek, 2010a: 4) and justice. These migrants build relationships of belonging as self-conscious Turks, Germans, German-Turks, and world citizens through discussions that hinge on notions of justice. Regardless of their legal citizenship, without a sense of respect and equality governing relationships among citizens and institutions, they do not feel comfortable in either country. Regardless of their personal professional success, they are concerned about institutional structures that do not justly set the terms of interactions among strangers and thereby ensure that all citizens are truly a part of the community.

While these elite returnees are not representative of every return migrant population, this research suggests the need for more studies on the ethical relationships established by migrants. By investigating how their ethical communities confer experiences of belonging and justice, we can gain more insight into the ultimate meaning of being a citizen.