I’ve just finished reading Orhan Pamuk’s 2005 novel, Snow, which, among other things, takes up the controversy in Turkey over a national ban on the wearing of head scarves by women at universities. By chance, my reading of the novel has coincided with the decision of Turkey’s Parliament to repeal the head scarf ban. It has been interesting to see the cultural divides explored in the novel—between the secular and the religious, the cosmopolitan and the provincial, “progressives” and “conservatives,” the elite and the underclass—reflected in newspaper accounts of reactions among Turkish citizens to the Parliament’s decision.

 Next month, the Supreme Court will be wading into one of our nation’s deepest cultural divides, which runs through the Second Amendment’s right “to keep and bear arms.” Head scarves and firearms might seem like apples and oranges, but the cultural divides that commentators have perceived along the head scarf issue in Turkey are remarkably similar to cultural divides that are perceived along the firearms issue in the United States: urban against rural, progressive against conservative, “elites” against “ordinary folk.”

In reality, cultural divides are often more shallow, and easier to cross, than they first appear. An article in Tuesday’s New York Times (February 19, 2008) about Turkey’s repeal of the head scarf ban was provocatively titled “In Turkey, Is Tension About Religion? Class Rivalry? Or Both?” “Neither” was not an option, but the article suggested that for many Turks, the head scarf ban was much ado about nothing. The strongest reaction to the ban, the article noted, seemed to come from older Turks, while “a sizable portion of Turkey’s secular society is uncomfortable limiting liberties, including wearing head scarves. . . .” A 20-year-old university student quoted at the end of the article noted that "I have many friends who wear the head scarf. . . . I enjoy their friendship. They're clever, smart women. Not like what people say: Unscientific and only interested in religion."

I suspect that the divide over guns may also be shallower than we are led to believe. An op-ed in last week’s Miami Herald (February 13, 2008) argues that the problem with the gun law debate “is that it has always been defined by its most extreme voices, its most uncompromising, ideologically pure voices.” Polling data supports the argument that, between ideological extremes, a fairly broad consensus on gun laws exists. While many Americans support stricter gun laws, including limits on assault weapons, those who would support an outright ban on handguns are in the minority. The lack of support for an outright ban on handguns goes straight to the heart of the issue in next month’s Supreme Court case, which will examine a District of Columbia law that severely restricts the right of individuals to keep guns for self-defense. Statistics may show that you are safer with a dog in the house than a gun, but many people are uncomfortable with having the government make that choice for them, and they certainly can find some support in the Second Amendment for the argument that the government can not completely take that choice away.

For better or worse, guns are part of the fabric of our society, and the ways in which guns inform the cultural identity of many Americans go beyond the concerns of self-defense. I grew up in a small community in rural Minnesota where hunting was a way of life. Like many kids my age, I had my first gun (a .22 rifle) before I left elementary school and graduated to .410 and 12 gauge shotguns in junior high and high school. But there was never a sense that having guns was a “pure” right. Minnesota law, for example, required that juveniles seeking a hunting license first complete gun safety training, a reasonable balance between a right and a responsibility. I don’t own a gun today (hunting opportunities are limited in suburban Chicago, and I prefer the companionship of a dog when it comes to self-defense). I recognize, however, that there are many reasonable, responsible people who do own guns, for a variety of reasons. They view gun ownership as their right, but it is a right they take seriously.  It seems that we all could find much common ground where rights and responsibilities come together.

The views expressed in this posting are those of the author and have not been approved by the House of Delegates or the Board of Governors of the American Bar Association and, accordingly, should not be construed as representing the policy of the American Bar Association.