BEIRUTSTATEofMIND: (Mis)adventures in the Kurdish Triangle

Mother and son in Mardin. December 2012.

In late December of last year myself and Greco-Roman wrestler left Beirut for Turkey. Our aim was to gauge an understanding of the political currents brewing in what we termed the “Kurdish triangle” since the outbreak of Syria’s civil war. Beginning in the South-Eastern Turkish city of Diyarbakir, notorious for anti-centrist PKK leanings, we proceeded overland to the Kurdish Iraqi capital of Erbil before heading to the Iraqi-Kurdish border point of Phish Khabur. From here, it was our intention to cross to the Syrian towns of Derrik and Qamishlu. We would then look into claims that Syria’s descent into civil chaos has presented the country’s Kurdish community, numbering some 2 million and ostracised from the privileges granted other minority groups in return for political support, the opportunity to assert greater political autonomy. And see how these pushes for greater autonomy were going down with (a) internally: the Free Syrian Army, and the Assad regime (b) regionally: the Turkish and Iraqi (specifically Kurdish Iraqi) states.

As the sun set on a dry winter’s night, our plan was foiled by a particularly grizzled Peshmerga warrior at the final checkpoint before the border. In the fading light that accompanied our return journey to Duhok our taxi driver’s unexpected selection of Usher did little to rouse spirits. Nor did the endless cups of shay – prepared ludicrously sweet compared to its counterpart across the Turkish border – that greeted us the next day as we struggled through the bureaucratic labyrinth that is the Kurdish Iraqi Interior Ministry. At one point things became heated when one particularly burly officer’s feign of ignorance that he did not know Iraq shared a border with Syria, was greeted by Roman-Wrestler’s claim that if the officer repeated this blatant lie then he would have to throw down. Needless to say we left empty handed. Wasta (or a lack of it) is a bitch.

Over the course of the trip we encountered widespread support amongst Kurds in both Turkey and Iraq towards the assertion of greater autonomy – political, cultural and linguistic – by the Kurdish community in Syria. However, being no strangers to persecution, fear was raised as to whether a more assertive Kurdish community in Syria, would be allowed by both the Turkish government and the Syrian opposition. Whether enjoying a slice of shortbread and some English tea on the tab of members of the KDP (whose own tab was on Kurdish Iraqi president Massoud Barzani) in a recently opened Turkish funded hotel in Erbil, or conversing with a man with a disturbingly well coiffured head of hair over a bowl of chicken, rice, and arnabeet (cauliflower) in a modest living room in a back alley in the Turkish border town of Nusaybayn, all comers expressed apprehension over Turkey’s role in Syria’s Kurdish quarters.

Within the famed Basalt walls, predating the birth of Christ, that frame the old city of Diyarbakir Abdullah Demirbas mayor of the city’s Sur district spoke with candid intensity. Stating that whilst the Turkish government professed to support the overthrow of the Assad regime and the nurturing of democracy amongst all of Syria’s peoples, the Kurds presented somewhat of an exception to this rule.

“If the Kurdish people in Syria gain their rights and autonomy all the Kurdish people will be happy,” said Demirbas, once imprisoned for publishing dinner party invitations in the Kurdish language. “But the Turkish government don’t want this. They claim to want democratization for the Syrian people but they don’t want it for Syrian Kurds. They fear we will demand the same thing.”

In the headquarters of Azadiya Wilat – a Kurdish language newspaper based in Diyarbakir – Rizo Xerxi sat framed by a wall covered in black and white photographs of Kurdish journalists killed in pursuit of their profession. He expressed concern that the Turkish government was facilitating the movement of Salafist groups across the Turkish border into the Kurdish area of Syria particularly around Ras al-Ain (– a particular hotspot in an otherwise relatively calm area. Ras al-Ain has witnessed both regime aerial bombardment and clashes between local Kurdish PYD Units and the Free Syrian.)

Tensions between the Turkish government and the Kurdish community have certainly been exacerbated by events in Syria.

Clashes between the PKK and the Turkish army continued unabated throughout 2012, some in areas close to the Syrian border – away from the traditional areas of altercation near the Iraqi and Iranian borders. The Paris assassinations of three female Kurdish political activists in January this year, including Sakine Cansiz – regarded as one of the founders of the PKK, have served to foment both popular and intensified guerrilla opposition.

Within a community, subject to a (modern) history of persecution, that has intrinsically shaped their self-perception, any sense of optimism vis-à-vis developments in the north-eastern corner of Syria are heavily countered by a scepticism furnished by experience.

During our trip, on a bus journey from Diyarbakir to Erbil, we came across a quite disarming manifestation of civil unrest. Passing through the town of Siirt our in-bus screening of Hasbro’s big-screen adaptation of Battleship (dubbed in Turkish) was interrupted by the scene of around 80 balaclava-clad 8-12 year-olds blocking the road with burning rubbish whilst hurling rocks at plain-clothed policemen lazily firing tear gas canisters into the pre-adolescent melee.

No one on the bus batted an eyelid. That the melee evoked so little reaction reminded me of a response to our pitches I received from a renowned international publication prior to the trip: “Kurds don’t sell papers.”

The sentiment seemed to somewhat echo the self-expressions of those Kurds we encountered on our trip. That amongst the chaos of Syria’s civil conflict the Kurdish voice could be drowned out amongst the cacophony created by more powerful players.

(For more of BEIRUTSTATEOFMIND’s (Mis)Adventures in the Kurdish Triangle see “How (not) to interact with the locals – HERE.)