Article

Comment

Community

Middle East

Migration

2 July 2025

6 min read

Letter from Istanbul: how many neighbours is it possible to love?

It’s easy to feel overwhelmed by the sheer mass of humanity in Turkey

Becky Ruth

Becky is a a writer living in Istanbul.

An Istanbul street.

Drew McKechnie on Unsplash.

Living in the megalopolis that is Istanbul in Türkiye, as the country is now calls itself*, is both wonderful and utterly overstimulating. As the sun dawns earlier in the summer months, I often ponder on what woke me up as I sip my morning coffee. Was it the Call to Prayer from our neighbourhood mosque; the caterwauling cats; fighting crows; howling dogs or squawking seagulls?

Istanbul (formerly known as Constantinople) is where East meets West, and home to up to 20 million people. It's the only city in the world to straddle both Asia and Europe, separated by the narrow Bosphorus sea, which you can cross by ferry in 20 minutes.

Known in the Bible as 'Asia Minor,' Türkiye boasts a wealth of Christian history and numerous religious sites, including the breathtakingly preserved ancient city of Ephesus.

Once the largest Christian cathedral in the world, the Hagia Sophia in Istanbul’s historic quarter Sultanahmet attracts millions of tourists to its grand Byzantine architecture every year, as both a mosque and a museum.

Istanbul's gastronomy is among the best in the world. The food, paired with the melting pot of history, faith, and culture, also makes for the warmest sense of hospitality in the world to visitors and newcomers that you could ever imagine. It is a stark contrast to what I was used to in the UK.

Turkish hospitality is about way more than tulip-shaped glasses of tea and aubergine köfte kebabs; in Turkish culture, a guest is honoured, making them feel as if they belong. From the drawn out etiquette of home visits to literal fights breaking out when it's time to pay the bill, in Türkiye, a guest is seen as a 'gift from God.'

Speaking of hospitality, Türkiye's official population is indeed an estimate due to the constant stream of refugees that pour into the country and settle in Istanbul, hoping to build new, better lives for themselves.

It is a hugely built-up city, with each skyscraper competing for height and a Bosphorus sea view; here and there, you can spy small little houses called gecekondus (which means 'put up at night'). These are the (illegal) homes of newcomers.

Türkiye is, on the whole, proud of its migration history (and its 2016 agreement with the UN). Of course, it's a country in a prime position to grant refuge to displaced people in neighbouring nations and as a transit country for people trying to emigrate west, and is home to the world's largest refugee population (3.2 million Syrians and up to 222,000 other nationalities). The latest refugees to seek sanctuary in the four thousand year old city are more Iranians. I enjoy friendships with Turkish, Persian, and Syrian friends in my faith community.

Of course, attitudes vary regarding the many 'neighbours' who make their home in Istanbul. There are complaints that 'enough is enough.' There is a 'Türkiye first' rhetoric that permeates the Caffe Nero I sometimes work in. (Eye-rolling and body language speak louder than words when the barista is short with a burka-wearing, stroller-pushing mum speaking Arabic.

And I do get it. 'Istanbul is overcrowded' is a massive understatement. You can't even begin to compare it to the UK immigration rhetoric.

Behind most discrimination is fear, and secular locals worry that so many refugees in Türkiye could lead to a different religious landscape one day.

I, too, am a guest here in Türkiye, and I am grateful I've been able to make it my home. I'm reminded that every person is worthy of love and respect no matter where they are from.

Of course world events significantly impact attitudes towards refugees in Istanbul. Sadly, it's a fact that events around the world can shape people's discourse regarding certain people groups. I find it hard to switch off from what's going on around the world, and since Israel bombed Iran last two weeks ago, I've been glued to the news.

My hairdresser is an Iranian girl who has a residence permit due to her husband's job in hospitality. I asked her how she was doing. She said she's scared for her mum and sister, who are in a city that's being bombed, and she wants to bring them to Türkiye. She said the scariest thing about it all is that all flights are grounded right now, and the internet is inconsistent; they feel utterly helpless. All I can do is hug her and tell her all life is precious to God, and that I am praying for peace.

A week later, I woke up to the news that the USA had struck Iran, with the intention of destroying three of its nuclear facilities. The world waits and watches with bated breath to see what will happen next.

I don’t have the answers for overcrowding or immigration policies, but when I reflect on 'who is my neighbour' I know it is whoever I find standing in front me.

Many in Istanbul do ask 'who is my neighbour? It is a question that has been asked for millenia, most famously by Jesus.

Jesus replied with a powerful story that would have pushed the buttons of all those gathered around on issues of race, religion, and hospitality, which became one of his most famous parables. In 'The Good Samaritan,' a traveller and a Jew are brutally attacked and robbed when he's walking from Jerusalem to Jericho. Beaten, bloody, and left for dead on the side of the road, a priest passes by, but instead of helping, he ignores the man and continues his journey.

Next, a Levite who also worked in the Jewish temple comes along the road, crosses to the other side, and walks away.

Finally, a man from Samaria (sworn enemies of the Jews) passes along the road, sees the injured man, and stops. He stops, tends to his wounds, puts the man on his donkey, and takes him to an inn to recover, covering all the expenses from his pocket.

You can imagine the sound of a pin dropping when Jesus asks which of these three was a neighbor to the man attacked by robbers: 'The expert in the law replied, 'The one who had mercy on him.' Jesus told him, ‘Go and do likewise.’

The message is simple- our 'neighbours' are all the people we come across. It's those different from us and even those with whom our ethnicity and national history demand we make enemies.

As a white woman with a British passport, I am privileged. I can return to the UK when I choose. People don’t wince if they hear me speak English in Caffe Nero. As a resident in Istanbul, I navigate the attitudes and ever-shifting narratives towards immigration in Türkiye by prayer.

I want to hold space for my Turkish friends who feel scared and frustrated.

I want to be a voice of peace to my friend who sends me a video of missiles heading for Iran over the border from Hatay, Türkiye.

Living in Türkiye as a woman of faith has changed me, and I can't help but think that if we all adopted the Turkish philosophy of hospitality, which views all guests as gifts from God, deserving to feel like they belong, the world could be a different place.

I don’t have the answers for overcrowding or immigration policies, but when I reflect on 'who is my neighbour' I know it is whoever I find standing in front me, no matter where they come from. I ask for the strength to 'love my neighbor as myself' no matter the country on their ID card (or despite their lack of one). And when I feel overwhelmed by the sheer number of precious human lives arriving in Türkiye every day, I remember that each of them is also a neighbour - and my job is to care for the one in front of me.

* Türkiye is the new spelling of the country’s name. Find out more

Article

Character

Comment

Football

Sport

16 July 2024

6 min read

Why England lost the Final

Emerson Csorba explores why love is a game-changer when it comes to winning.

Emerson Csorba

Emerson Csorba works in deep tech, following experience in geopolitics and energy.

Gareth Southgate congratulating the team

So, England reached another final which ended in crushing disappointment. Despite their ability to grind out wins deep into Euros and World Cup tournaments due to the savvy approach of now ex-coach Gareth Southgate, the team risks a similar fate as it looks toward the World Cup.

Gareth Southgate resigned as England manager having lost two successive Euro finals. And maybe there’s a reason. His style is habitually defensive, cautious and careful. There is a sense in watching England that they fear failure under the weight of expectation, the fear leading to a strange restraint. There was a caution in their play, the potential of their extraordinary players limited rather than unlocked. When they equalized in the final, they inexplicably failed to capitalize, sitting back and letting Spain come at them again, leading to Oyarzabal’s winning goal.

It is not surprising that England were overtaken in the final minutes of the Euros by an opponent that went for it. Spain played with more intent, winning the tournament with fewer stars than England, but with heart embodied in captain and player of the tournament Rodri.

Compare, however a lesser-known football nation in a less well-reported competition over these past weeks.

Little was expected of Canada’s Men’s National Team upon entering their first “Copa America” football tournament in late June. However, led by former Leeds United coach Jesse Marsch, Canada made the semifinals – a remarkable run that had much of the ice hockey-loving nation turning their television sets to football.

It took the eventual champions and world number-one Argentina and its star Lionel Messi to knock out the Canadians in a closely fought game. Argentina coach Lionel Scaloni called the Canadians “a very good team that’s made it hard for everyone.”

When all was said and done, Canada advanced further into the tournament than Mexico, the United States, Chile and even titans Brazil.

What was behind Canada’s recent Copa success? And what can be learnt from coach Jesse Marsch – and other similar coaches – in unlocking the potential of their teams?

The answer, modelled by Marsch but seen in other select coaches’ approaches, is found in a quality not often mentioned in the world of sport: it is nothing less than Love, and the courage it produces.

A quality which is not often mentioned in the world of sport: Love, and the courage it produces.

Certain coaches’ evident love for their team allows players to tap into new reserves of energy, taking risks despite fear of failure. These teams play with courage, striving to win, rather than sitting back. They leave everything on the field. This love keeps teams on the offensive, their opponents on the defensive. Such courage is important in modern football, which values a high-energy, attacking style.

Modern sport rewards teams who display speed, directness and versatility. Just as the smartphone has sped up the pace of modern communication and life, rewarding those capable of communicating with large audiences instantaneously, football and other sports reward those with quickness and directness in their style of play.

For instance, in American football, the “quarterback” position of previous decades needed only throw the football effectively. These days, the best quarterbacks must throw and run. Speed, directness and versatility are demanded of the modern quarterback, mirroring the overall speeding-up of society and their ability to reach people instantaneously in an increasingly interconnected world.

Canada, adapting to these changes, brought speed to every match. Marsch’s enthusiasm on the sideline was clear throughout the tournament. Canada provided opponents with little room to breathe, keeping on the front foot from the opening kick to the final whistle. The team was rewarded accordingly, despite their inexperience and lack of stature. The same was true of the dynamic Georgia team in the Euros, who humbled the mighty Portugal 2-0 in the group stages.

Marsh recognised Canada’s potential when others didn’t. Following a quarterfinal win over Venezuela, arguably the most dominant team in the tournament up to that point, with the stadium packing 48,000 Venezuelans compared to Canada’s 1,000 fans, Marsch highlighted his players’ untapped ability. He did this throughout the tournament, and his players fed on this awareness of their potential.

Marsch’s own story is one of challenge. He was fired in 2023 by Leeds United and then rejected by the United States Men’s National Team. Despite his track record and promise, he was overlooked in favour of lesser candidates. These rejections provided Marsch with a deepened belief in his own ability and unique style. This inner strength in turn provided his players with courage in hostile matches throughout Copa America.

Reflecting on the Copa America success, Marsch said: “I want to get back to loving the game that I love, and this team has helped me find that, and I’m very thankful for that.” This love helped the Canadians play with courage, tapping into energy levels to underpin this courage.

Few coaches achieve this – but the results are evident for those who do.

In the English Premier League, Jurgen Klopp, Mikel Arteta and Pep Guardiola are often criticised for their exuberance on the field, but each coach clearly loves their team. This translates to teams that do not easily give up, responding quickly to setbacks.

St Paul famously wrote: “Love always hopes, always perseveres.” When they are bound together by a sense of love, it enables a person, or a team to push forward, never giving up hope, always pressing for the win.

Jurgen Klopp loved the city of Liverpool and demonstrated this through his unforgettable hugs of his players and on-field energy. His players fed off this love and routinely went for it. Liverpool launched long ball after long ball, with fullback Trent Alexander-Arnold one of the best long passers in the Premier League, game in and game out, winning the Premier League for the first time in decades and even reaching the pinnacle of the Champions League.

Mikel Arteta inherited and rebuilt an Arsenal that had fallen from previous heights. One moment stands out in this rebuilding process. Following a shock loss to Everton at the midway point in the 2022-2023 season, Arteta told the press that he loved his team “even more” than he did previously. Arsenal were unable to unseat Manchester City that year, losing energy in the final weeks of the season. But they took their game to a new level in the following campaign, pushing City to the final day.

Pep Guardiola is the exuberant and intense coach of Manchester City. But look at his captain Rodri, who recently led Spain to Euros glory. Following Spain’s victory, Rodri commented “In sport, as in life, when you leave it all there, you are rewarded.”

Rodri made a similar comment following Man City’s fourth consecutive EPL title, stating that he knew Man City would win the EPL title following Arsenal’s 0-0 draw with City at City’s home stadium the Emirates.

The reason? Arsenal came to achieve a draw – not a victory. They did not demonstrate the heart needed to win the game decisively. They were lacking in love in that match, playing instead not to lose. The difference between these approaches, one focused on winning and the other on not losing, was fear – even if subtle.

The Jewish sage Hillel is well known for saying “If I’m not for me, who will be for me? And if not now, when?” The coaches described above, each demonstrating love, instill in their teams the ability to take risks, playing boldly. This is Hillel’s “if not now, when?”

Love is the vital quality providing players with the courage, to play on the front foot with a view to winning decisively. It is conducive to success in modern football valuing speed. Led by the coach, and spreading through players, it is the difference-maker as the margins between failure and success continue to narrow.