Astarjian: Our Friends, Our Foes: The Kurds
By Henry Astarjian
January 7, 2010
The Armenian Weekly
January 2010 Magazine
The inheritance of my generation of Armenians is the legacy of our
parents and grandparents who survived the genocide, especially the
atrocities committed by the Kurds. Even after almost a century,
talking to the post-genocide Armenians about the Kurds generates
anger, hatred, belittlement, and at best indifference. However,
today’s realities mandate a cool, close look at these people who share
land with us in southeastern Turkey, which we call Western Armenia and
they call Northern Kurdistan. So are they our friends or foes, or
both?
Kurdish women demonstrating (photo by Mujgan Arpat)
The stories passed on to us speak of the criminal, at least hostile,
acts perpetrated against Armenians throughout the centuries,
especially in the late 19th century by Kurdish tribes leading to the
Great Genocide of 1915.
Who are these people who have historically influenced our way of life,
threatened our existence, and continue to shape our future?
Ethnic jokes and anecdotes portray the Kurd as an ignorant group of
nomads, who are Muslims (just barely so, according to the Turks, who
consider the Kurds Muslim only when compared to the giavour (the
infidel): Giavoura bakarak Kurd Musluman).
Historic accounts document their profile as tribes who, for the last
five centuries, have survived in Anatolia through extortion, robbery,
individual killings, mass killings, rape, kidnapping, and in general,
by collaborating with the Ottoman authorities to oppress the Armenian
nation and the other Christian minorities.
So, who are the Kurds? What is their genealogical origin? Where did
they come from?
All that really matters not! What matters is that they have lived with
us for 4,000 years and have sometimes been our friends, often our
foes, not to say enemies. Our histories have intermingled; we have
allied ourselves with the Ottomans against them, they have done the
same against us, and at times we have joined forces with them against
the Ottoman government. An example: the 1845 armed uprising of Prince
Badrkhan, in a coalition with the Armenians, against the Sultan.
Prince Badrkhan believed that `The Armenians and the Kurds are Arians,
belonging to the same race. One tribe accepted Islam and the other
remained Christian.’ He even allowed intermarriage, though it is
doubtful that any Armenian man married a Kurdish girl.
I met his great grandson Saif Badrkhan, who lives in California. He’s
a highly educated decent human being who even gave a brief speech in
one of the April 24 gatherings in LA condemning the genocide. He
arranged for me to deliver speeches in Kurdish American conferences in
California and Maryland. I did! The meetings were crowded by people,
whose appearance and existence alone changed my view of the Kurds.
Perhaps it is not an exaggeration to say that whomever I met had a
Ph.D. or master’s degree in some scientific or business field. Polite
mannerisms reflected civility during the official speeches, and during
dinners and social hours. Ladies, graceful in their charm and
traditional Kurdish gowns, mingled with men and danced shoulder to
shoulder.
I was given a seat in the front row. There was an empty chair to my
left; I thought it might have been planted there deliberately, because
Kurds, all from Turkey, came to shake my hand, and sit on that chair
to share thoughts and `secrets’ with the `representative of the
Armenian people,’ which I was not, nor claimed to be. A few of them
posed a rhetorical question: `Why are the Kurds Muslims? What have we
gained by being Muslims?’ At least a dozen or so told me – on the
promise of anonymity – that their grandmother is Armenian. I was not
shocked. A few years later I heard the Kurdish explanation of
kidnapping our girls, which I will discuss later.
The theme of these meetings was inarguably political and inarguably
nationalistic and designed to advance the cause of a `United, Free
Kurdistan.’ It was an eye opener! For, the issue was not limited to
Iraqi Kurdistan, the liberation of the Kurds from the atrocities of
Saddam Hussein, but to Pan Kurdism and the establishment of a united,
free, and sovereign Kurdistan expanding from the Araratian planes in
present-day Turkey to Kirkuk and Mandali, deep into Iraq. Needless to
say, it includes the six Armenian vilayets, the jewel of which was
Van.
I said my word, loud and clear, from the podium, the gist of which
was: Yes, we have the same cause. Yes, we have a common enemy. Yes,
there should be an alliance between us. But each group has its own
interests and rights, for which they must struggle. There should be no
dispute between our two nations. We are partners in destiny. Our
rights were spelled out, in detail, in the provisions of the Sevres
Treaty, which was then refined and mapped by U.S. President Woodrow
Wilson. It is to our advantage, and to the detriment of Turkey, to
stick to this map and the provisions in the Sevres Treaty.
I got standing ovations all three times, but not necessarily as an
endorsement of my expressed ideas. They were, I believe, happy for my
having exposed Turkey for what it is: an occupier, an oppressor of
other nations, and a violator of human rights.
In one of the meetings, I met Nijyar H. Shemdin (Agha) the son of
Hajji Shemdin Agha of Zakho, Iraq. My uncle, Dr. Krikor Astarjian, was
one of Shemdin Agha’s close friends and his family’s physician.
Through the Agha, and other Aghas whom he canvassed, he was
instrumental in tipping the League of Nation’s plebiscite held in the
early 1920’s in favor of Iraq. In this plebiscite, the Kurds of Mosul
voted not to join Kemal Ataturk’s Turkey, thus joining the newly
formed Kingdom of Iraq. We both were happy to find each other and
recall the memories of yesteryear.
Events guided me to participate in the festivities of the first
anniversary of the incorporation of the Kurdish Parliament in Exile,
which was incorporated in the Hague, and which established itself
physically in Brussels. Ten European countries had recognized it
and/or lent their support to this democratic institution. The
parliament was established by Turkey’s Kurdish exiled
parliamentarians. They had fled Turkey when other Turkish `deputan’
were stripped of their parliamentary immunity and arrested – like Leyla
Zana – for supporting the `Kurdish Cause.’
The organizers had elected Yasar (Yashar) Kaya as president of the
parliament. I had met him in one of the Kurdish meetings in
California, where he also had delivered a speech calling for Kurdish
unity. He, together with Zubeyir Aydar, the chair of the Executive
Committee (originally representing Siirt in the Turkish Parliament)
came to welcome the representative of the Tashnag Party (which I was
not). They took me to dinner in an Italian restaurant. I let them
initiate the conversation. They apologized for Kurdish tribes’
criminal acts against the Armenians. They said, `These killers were of
certain tribes who are doing to us what they did to you: They are
killing us, raping our women in front of assembled villagers, they are
burning our villages and hamlets, and they are deporting the civilians
into internal exile. The difference is that they did not send them to
Der Zor. You had the Hamidiya Alaylari, and we have these criminals,
the Korujus. They are on Turkish government’s payroll.’
They further developed the conversation to talk about Kurdish
kidnapping of our children. They said, `We don’t dispute that, but
look at it from our view: We knew that those kids would face a certain
death in the desert of Der Zor, so we saved their lives. And we always
told them they are Armenians.’ They did not say that they converted
them to Islam.
They went into the litany of the genocide, expressing profound
sympathy to the survivors and their offspring. I listened and listened
to this sincere mea culpa, until it became repetitious, at which time
I told them what I told the parliament in a televised speech the
following day. The gist of my speech was simple: I am not here to
demand sympathy or demand apology from the Kurds. I am here to affirm
the Armenian nation’s right to some of the land you are living on, and
to our adherence to the provisions of the Sevres Treaty. Our
relationship with the Kurdish nation is not based on ideology, but on
land rights and demands in Western Armenia. Both the Kurdish and
Belgian televisions televised the proceedings.
Our relationship with the Kurds is a complex one: (1) We are allies by
necessity: The enemy of my enemy is my friend. (2) They look up to us,
yet we look down upon them. And we are wrong. The Kurds have advanced
in every imaginable field beyond anyone’s imagination, certainly
beyond mine. (3) Whether we like it or not, they are our neighbors. We
better understand them. (4) Other than Western Armenia, there is, for
them, the issue of `Red Kurdistan,’ that is, Lachin, Kelbajar, and
Fizuli. For us, the case is closed.
So, are the Kurds our friends or foe? Probably both. A smart approach
to this seemingly impossible situation will make them, in my opinion,
our friends much more than our foes.
(One caveat: Though I kept our leadership fully informed, I had no
endorsement nor any kind of support from them. In this endeavor, I was
not representing anyone but myself. Others may have had a different
impression.)