Kurdish PEN Centre and human rights in modern Kurdish literature

News and information about Kurds and Kurdistan since 4th August 1998

16 December 2004

KurdishMedia.com – By Dr Zorab Aloian

Ladies and Gentlemen,
Dear friends!
Goede Middag! Of dag, fijn dat u er bent!

I wish to thank Mildred Anna Middendorp, Stef de Niet, Shirley van
de Steen and other organizers of today’s Program “Turkish and Kurdish
Literature at Literair Theater Branoul” which is a part of the Festival
Horen Zien en Schrijven. I appreciate that Janá Beranová from the
Netherlands PEN Centre and Kurdish lady poet Beri Bihar proposed my
name as a representative of the Kurdish PEN Centre. I am happy to see
here all the guests and especially our close friend Ragip Zarakolu,
who through his Publishing House has been tirelessly promoting freedom
of speech and overcoming taboo topics for the readers in Turkey. I
greet Nisan Erdogan and Ibrahim Roglu who will guide us to the world
of modern Turkish poetry.

I should like to draw some schematic picture of the activities of
the Kurdish PEN Centre and the human rights topics in modern Kurdish
literature. No more than a tiny glimpse of these two very serious
issues can be given here. Therefore, I may elaborate certain points
afterwards, if you come up with your questions and ideas.

The Essence of Kurdish PEN Centre

Your may well know that the International PEN was founded in 1921 in
London by Mrs. Amy Dawson Scott. After the World War I, the nationalist
wave was escalating in Europe and beyond. The first activists of the
International PEN movement headed by John Galsworthy (1867-1933),
a holder of Nobel Prize in Literature, started to work for the sake
of cultural and literary freedoms. The underlying idea of the PEN
has always been “the co-operation between writers themselves” as a
counteract against fascist and totalitarian regimes worldwide. Today,
there are 135 national PEN Centres with 100 of them being state-framed,
or representing existing states, although politically independent. In
addition, there are few PEN Centres without states of their own such
as the Gypsy, Catalan, Esperanto, Basque, Palestinian, Kurdish and
other PEN Centres. What matters for the writers is not the state
boundaries or government blessing but a language in which we create.

At the International PEN Congress in Cambridge, which took place in
April 1988, all the delegates voted for the foundation of the Kurdish
PEN Centre with no vote against and no abstention. This process has
been initiated by the Kurdish author Hüseyin Erdem and several other
writers. This was the first time in history that a national Kurdish
organisation became a member of an international body having equal
rights with others. By doing so, the PEN International exercised
its right to pressure those totalitarian regimes which are sued
to silencing freedom of speech and destroying cultural diversity
in their countries. This achievement was an important step for the
Kurdish language and literature enabling them to gather respect and
strength and to gain an international acceptance.

>> From the very beginning, the Kurdish PEN Centre has been
representing the Kurdish writers living both in the four divided
parts of Kurdish homeland, known as Kurdistan, and abroad thus
refusing to play a role of an exiled Centre. Since 2003 we have a
new Board of the Kurdish PEN Centre headed by Dr. Zaradachet Hajo
and Moustafa Rechid with me being the secretary. We try our utmost
to work for all four existing Committees of the International PEN,
that is, Writers in Prison Committee, Committee of Writers for Peace,
Translation and Linguistic Rights Committee and The Women Writers’
Committee. We have more than 60 members who live in the Middle East,
Europe and the post-Soviet states. The members of the Kurdish PEN
Centre’s Extended Board live in Germany and the UK, we have a Bureau in
Istanbul and next year we are going to visit Iraq and Iraqi Kurdistan
to set up a local Bureau over there, too. We are working on organising
a linguistic and literary conference, probably in Arbil, to discuss
the issue of the united Kurdish alphabet based on Latin script. lIt
must be pointed our that due to historical vicissitudes, the modern
Kurdish literature – although essentially united – evolves in three
major dialects and two alphabets. All are represented in our Centre.

With support of our friends and intellectuals from all nations the
PEN International backs the rights of Kurdish language and literature
and speaks up for release of Kurdish authors who had been detained
and imprisoned in the past. I can only refer to the PEN International
Congress in Mexico City, 2003. Out of 32 resolutions adopted there,
three were related to the Kurdish case: “Resolution on the Linguistic
Rights of the Kurds in Turkey, Iran and Syria”, “Resolution on Syria
concerning the detention of Marwan Osman” and “Resolution on Turkey
Concerning the Detention of Leyla Zana”.

Another important developments is the upcoming Diyarbakir Seminar
on Cultural Diversity jointly organised by Turkish and Kurdish PEN
Centres under the supervision of the International PEN and UNESCO. It
is planned for March, 2005, in the main Kurdish city of Turkey,
Diyarbakir. I am honoured to stress that recently we have developed
a very fruitful contacts with our colleagues from the Turkish PEN
Centre especially with the head of the Linguistic Rights Committee
of the Turkish Centre Mrs. Aysu Erden and our friend here Mr. Ragip
Zarakolu. Now I should rather turn to a literary part of my short
presentation, in which I exclusively deal with the writers who are
members of our PEN Centre.

Human Rights in Modern Kurdish Literature

Certainly, the men and women of literature, while creating, have no
direct goal to embody textually human rights issues. However, the
main motivation of literature lies in the premises that a person with
his or her hopes, joy, pains, spirit and talent is in a preference
to ideological and state interests. That is also exactly what human
rights movement is about. Indeed, a human being must have a certain
fascination. And this is always relevant, whether we call it human
rights or literary mastery.

Arguably the most prominent poet from South (Iraqi) Kurdistan Shêrko
Bêkes, who had been living in exile in Sweden and became a Tucholsky
Prize winner and now is back in his country, describes how inevitable
for a poet it is to be a free creator: “If you take freedom from my
poems and throw it away, I cannot survive.”

Eger le naw shîirekanim
gul derawêjine derewe
le çwar werz werzêkim emrê.
Eger yar bênine derewe
Duwanim emrin
Eger nan bênine derewe
Sêyanim emrin
Ger azadî bênine derewe
Salim emrê û
Xoyþim emrim

Amid the patriotic theme Shêrko Bêkes, while admitting that there might be
better places under the Sun, makes us feel that his native piece of land
deserve affection, too:

Wilat zor e le Kurdistan
shoxushengtir
Xwêngermtir.
Wilat zor e le Kurdistan
Chawî geshtir
Esksoktir.
Wilat zor e le Kurdistan
Qisexoþtir
Destrengîntir.
Belam ey Kurdistanekem!
Wilat niye
Hergîz le to xoþewîsttir.
(Gulbijêrek ji Helbestên Shêrko Bêkes, Stockholm: APEC, 1991, pp. 14, 69)

The famous novelist Mehmed Uzun, who lives in Sweden, dedicated his
novel “Hawara Dîcleyê” to the forgotten peoples of Mesopotamia –
“jibîrbûyî”. He claims that the Kurds and many other ethnic and
religious communities – whether alive or extinct – are natives of
Mesopotamia, share its rich heritage and need to be remembered of.

Ji bîr mekin: ji-bîr-bû-yî…
Berî ku hûn bipirsin, ez bibêjim we ka jibîrbûyî kî ne.
Jibîrbûyî, ez im,,,, Biroyê Ezdî
Jibîrbûyî, Ester e…
Jibîrbûyî êzdî ne, ku bav û kalên min in, ku hertim li serê çiya û newalên kûr
ên welatê êzdiyan, tên kuþtin, hertim ferman û talana wan radibe…
Jibîrbûyî, suryan, keldan û nastûrî ne, ku bav û kalên Stêra min a gorbehîþt
in, ku nikarin li welatê xwe yê bav û kalan… azad û serbest li tîrêjên
berbangan… binêrin…Jibîrbûyî cihû ne…
…Hûn ê niha bipirsin ka ev… çima jibîrbûyî ne. Ez bibêjim we: ev…
jibîrbûyî ne, ji ber ku bindest in, biserneketine û têk çûne…Gotina min,
gotina wan e; dengê min, dengê wan e.

“Please do not forget the forgotten peoples. I’m forgotten, Biroyê
Ezdî and my sweet Ester is also forgotten. The Yezidi Kurds, my
forefathers, are forgotten since they had to hide in the mounts to
avoid massacres. The Syrian Christians, Chaldeans and Nestorians
living amongst the Kurds are also forgotten peoples, they are unable
to look freely in the ray of the Sun. The Jews of Mesopotamia are
forgotten. If you ask, why are they forgotten, I’ll tell you: they are
oppressed and already destroyed. Therefore my voice is their voice.”
(My abridged translation from: Mehmed Uzun, Hawara Dîcleyê, Istanbul:
Avesta, 2001, part I, pp. 15-17)

Another variant of creative patriotic writing is demonstrated by Haydar
Isik, the novelist from Dêrsîm (re-named to Tunceli by the Turkish
authorities). Since the literary works become often independent of
their authors, one could use a portion of imagination to put Haydar
Isik’s short story “Raya Uþen” within the framework of the current
trend towards foreigners in Europe who are blamed to be over-attached
to their home countries. Certainly, the writer’s inspiration was
different. A young Kurd Uþen (derived from Huseyn) was born and
grew up in Germany, had a friendship circle with German youths but
one day, by a virtue of free choice, he decided to go to his native
Kurdistan. His return, terrible images sawn there and his fate are
poetically shown in Haydar Isik’s ancient dialect of Dimilî-Zazakî,
the musical sounds of which are irresistible:

Uþe Almanya de ame dina, bi pîl, þi dibistane Almanu, terbiye dinu
gurete, ita bi xort. Kare dey duzena dey, waxt sero bimayena dey
þivero Almanu. Dorme Uþen’de Kirmanç çinebi. Hevale dey Alman bi û
ey zone Almanu je dine qeseykerdene. Por cirakerdena Uþen, kaye dey,
yareniya dey je Almani bi.

A sere pero piya ci welat. Ma u pi zu çim, zu dil wasteneke dewa xo biwene, le
Uþen welate pi ye xo hona nediwi. Welate pi çutiriyo, meraxe dey her roz biyene
girs…
Uþen cenc bi, semt bi, o ke feteliyene, alvoz vatene: “Maye camerd ardo dina.”
Deyde ters çinebi, serva azadiya millete xo sond û sodir xebetiya.

Le qersuna bebextu ilam girana. Qersuna xayin tenena jedera. Qersuna Reywer.
Uþen ke bi dirvetin virare estera welat. Goniya dey harde welat kerd cenc. Koye
welat tenena sare kerd berz, nika alvoz raya Uþen ra sone, þahine gile koyune.

(Haydar Isik, Raya Uþeno, 1995, Manusrcipt).

The Kurdish language and culture in the 20th century to a big
part owes to the those mostly Yezidi Kurds who escaped the Ottoman
massacres and found refuge in Armenia. The Soviet state in general
and Armenian intelligentsia in particular promoted the preservation
and developments of Kurdish literature. The first Latin-based Kurdish
alphabet was created in 1928 in Armenia, the first Kurdish novel –
roman – was written by Arab Shamilov, an Armenian Kurd. The first
theatre, the first movie, the first section of Kurdish writers,
Kurdish schools and academic institutions in Armenia – they are a
very positive reverberation of common Armenian-Kurdish destiny. The
Kurds, on their part, highlight this memory and display their sympathy
towards the Armenian wounds.

Thus, the writer, Felat Dilgesh from Istanbul wrote a short story
called Zûra (Anosh). It is about an Armenian girl saved by a Kurdish
family during the genocide campaign after the World War 1. The
girl received a new name Zûra, remained in the Kurdish family, but
her separation from the repressed family was a heavy burden on her
soul. The author describes, how Zûra was every day looking for her
mummy, checking every room in the house.

Anosh dotira rojê bi veciniqîn ji nav nivînan rabû û cardin bi lez û
bez li hemû odeyên malê li diya xwe geriya. Belê wê ne diya xwe û ne
jî xwîshk û birayên xwe dît. Anosh wê rojê jî heta êvarê giriya. Di
serî de maliyên Shêx Muhemed, der û cîranan kirin nekirin, kesî
nikaribû pariyek nan jî bidinê. Berê êvarê tenê firek av vexwar.
(Felat Dilgeþ, Dilþa, Istanbul: Elma, 2003, p. 105).

Speaking of the memories, which are mostly a trauma on personal and
national psyche, one needs to refer to the notorious Anfal campaign
carried out by Saddam Hussein’s regime. According to Western officials,
more than 180,000 Kurds were murdered sometimes with gas on that
year. The Kurdish sources estimate not less than 300,000. The lady
writer from South (Iraqi) Kurdistan Sarfiraz Nakshabandy, who lived
in Berlin and now is back to her homeland, writes a series of novels,
one of them being “Uneasy Balance” about April 1, 1991, events in the
city of Arbil (known as Hewlêr in Kurdish). On that day, the Iraqi
troops quelled the Kurdish uprising. The Iraqi commander comes across
two brothers and gives them a demoniac chance:

“- Both of you must think it over, who is ready to die. I’ll set free
the other. I give you this choice. So that you know how democratic we
are. Even in death we give you the right to choose. We’re not those
dictators as you constantly blame us. Let God curse and punish you,
Kurds! You are nothing but the Devil’s offspring!”

Understandably every brother wants himself to die to save another
one. But as time passes, they try to justify their desire to live
on and think: maybe my brother can die, I have more important things
to do. At the end, however, the Iraqi officer, who amused himself of
that game, kills both brothers:

But they [the brothers] overcame the tremble of death and strongly
took in each other’s arms accreted as the Corinthian column. Now they
wouldn’t care of the things around them. The brothers have already
entered the world of the dead. Indeed, such a death of the two equals
one free life.

Sound of bullets again were heard under the sky of Hewlêr. Voiceless
secrecy covered fear, dignity and love of life.

(Sarfaraz Nakshabandy, Uneasy Balance, Journal Havîbûn (Berlin),
1998/No 4, pp. 167-169, my translation)

A journey follows and a Kurd from Iraq, described by a young writer
Yasîn Banîxelanî, comes to Germany to open a new page here. Currently
we are full of narrations about integration. Yasîn Banîxelanî’s hero
from a short story “Min û piyawe roboteke” (Me and the Robot-like man),
too, cannot get along the society, superficially believing that the
people in Germany live and work like robots. Yet having a necessary
impulse to understand the host society, he approaches a German worker
and hears his tragic story. Indeed, tragedy is a specificity of
every society, be it even seemingly happy. The man tells the Kurdish
immigrant of his grief, cries and the Kurd exclaims: “Oh my dear God,
I thought there is nothing from soul and human emotion to be detected
in this person!”

“Ay Xway Giyan! Min wam dezanî, hîç hestêkî mirovane le rûhî ew piyaw
da nemawe, ke çî êsta debînim, degirî, giriyan lay min le lebizwandinî
heste mirovayetiyekan ziyatir hîç watayekî niye.”

(Yasîn Banîxelanî, Min û piyawe roboteke, Manuscript, my translation)

The desperation must be so high that the people cannot utter
it. Another writer in Zazaki-Dimilî dialect Munzur Çem bases his
story entitled “The Voice of the Forest” on real events of 1994 in
the village of Mirig, Dêrsîm. Since the Turkish state forbids the
people to speak their language and their mind, the author chose to
let animals speak about the military assault presenting the story in
the form of fable.

“What happened, Brother Bear? Why did you come back?”
“What happened! Look around you. I thought I’d find a way of escape out of this
hell, but it’s no good, I couldn’t. The fire hasn’t left even the smallest
passage.”
“You mean there’s nowhere at all to get through?”
“Absolutely not: not even for an insect, let alone me.”
“And what about the others? Did any of them survive the fire?”
“I noticed only the goats. They lost their way like me and turned back,
shouting and crying. Perhaps, you’ll see them soon.”…
“The snake could not stop grieving on account of the wound he had received…
“And so I came back like many others. Just as I was about to meet with you, a
piece of fire broke off from the falling branch and caught me. Look how badly
I’m burned.”…
Seeking the answer to all these problems, our little tortoise certainly did not
know about the people far, far off in the capital city of Ankara. He did not
know, he could not know, that the administrators there talked about “the
successes achieved in the struggle against terrorism”…
“I am just a tortoise. I know I can’t do much….. Even if I do nothing else, I
shall be the voice of the forest. I’ll… try to tell everyone the story of its
suffering…”

(Munzur, Çem, The Vocie of the Forest, Stories, translated by Chris Buchanan,
Cologne: Komkar Publications, 2002, pp. 99-125).

The emancipation of the Kurdish society is stipulated by a higher
prestige of women. The lady poet from Meletî (Malatya) Nilgün Demirkaya
defies traditional descriptions of Oriental women in a patriarchal
way: the women are objects of lust, beautiful, attractive and with
red lips. Nilgün Demirkaya’s poems, erratic and impatient, merge
Kurdish theme of liberation with women’s dignity:

My mother bears
her heart
in her hand
and
rocks the empty
cradle
My shot is full of cries
gathered in the heavens.
My voice
Is the voice of mounts.
Can you comprehend what I’m saying?

(Nilgün Demirkaya, Durch unsere halbgeöffneten Türen, Manuscript, my
translation).

Another lady poet from Kurdish region of Turkey Evîn Cîcek looks for a
salvation from the exhausting fate:
“Pain makes these people writers, poets, bards, but also orphans, prisoners and
dead.”
Jan wan dike nivîskar,
Jan wan dike helbestvan,
Jan wan dike dengbêj,
Jan wan dike hunermend,
Jan wan dike hêsîr,
Jan wan dike girtî,
Jan wan dike mirî.

(Evîn Cîcek, Awaza Serpêhatiyan, Istanbul: Perî, 2004, vol. 3, p. 104).

All the mentioned writers are born in the conflict zone. They
experienced destructions of war, detentions with tortures and bans of
self-expression. Nonetheless they constantly remind us: love of native
culture and nature is a very human instinct. If I had to generalise
about the lines above and say what single quality strikes me most,
I would say that cherishing one’s own feelings without harming others
is their most memorable characteristic.

Such is an immediate identity of Kurdish literati.

Dr Zorab Aloian, Kurdish P.E.N. Center. In 1988 during the
International PEN Conference all delegates voted for the foundation of
the Kurdish PEN Center. In 1990 they were officially registered. This
was the first time in Kurdish history that a national Kurdish
organisation became a member of an international body having equal
rights with others. This achievement was an important step for the
Kurdish language and literature enabling them to gather dignity and
strength and to gain an international acceptance.

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