Sarah Glynn
Today, with no end in sight for the genocide in Gaza, I will be speaking at a Palestine march in Edinburgh. I plan to talk about ethnic and cultural identity, a subject that has only grown in importance across the Middle East, and, indeed, the whole world.
I have been thinking a lot about identity lately. Trying to comprehend how one group can have so little empathy for another as to deny them humanity, wilfully conspire to destroy them, and even revel in the most sadistic acts against them.
For most people, a genocidal mindset is impossible to imagine, and yet genocide and brutal violence has been a recurring pattern among many different peoples. The country that claims to be leader of the free world is itself a settler colonial state that nearly eradicated the indigenous people whose land it occupies, and that has supported massacres around the globe, as well as supplying the weapons Israel is using on Gaza.
What we are witnessing in Palestine is one of many genocides – which does not, in any way diminish the horror of what is happening there, or exonerate the Zionist fanatics who are carrying it out. Raphael Lemkin, the Polish Jewish Lawyer who coined the term “genocide” in response to the Nazi exterminations, and succeeded in getting the crime of genocide recognised by the United Nations, was first set on this path when he learnt about what is now recognised as the Armenian Genocide, carried out by Ottoman Turkey in 1915. Turkey’s attacks on the Kurds are, perhaps, too long drawn out to be described as a genocide, but Saddam Hussein’s Anfal Campaign in Iraq is described as such; and Kurds in all four parts of Kurdistan have suffered cultural genocide, which is a widely recognised concept, although not included in the United Nation’s genocide definition.
If, like me, you are Jewish, questions about identity have become inescapable. My first memory of the identity question dates from when I was six. We were having a compulsory after lunch rest before being allowed out into the school playground, and a classmate observed to me, “You can’t be English because you are Jewish”. I don’t think they were being unkind – it was just childhood logic that couldn’t conceive of the two categories as overlapping – but it told me that I didn’t properly belong.
Although not very religious, my upbringing was very consciously Jewish, and that included an unquestioned support for Israel because no country had shown themselves willing to accept Jews fleeing the Holocaust.
I think, like many people, I had a mental concept of an undifferentiated and powerful Arab mass intent on denying a small portion of land for the Jews to create a safe haven. It was only much later that I learnt about the brutal reality of Israel’s birth and the Nakba of the Palestinians. And reading the century-old debates between the Zionists and Jewish socialists, I came to realise the bitter absurdity of trying to save one people by obliterating another.
However, even now, some of my relations still filter out all news critical of Israel as biased and unreliable, allowing them to continue to support the unsupportable. They are not bad people, but Zionism has built on ancient fears and even older ethnic pride to reinforce a vision of the world that judges everything on what is good for the Jews. (Not that Israel has been good for Jews, but that is another matter.)
Their refusal to accept the truth is frightening enough in itself, and provides Israel with valuable support, but it also illustrates how easily people can embark on a path that dismisses another group as not of equal importance – a path that can eventually deny them their humanity altogether.
Like very many other Jews – though still not enough – I am horrified by what is being done in our name. Despite the insistence of pro-Palestinian campaigns, and especially of the Palestinians themselves, on the basic truth that Zionism – a political idea – is not the same as Jewishness, Zionists persist in claiming to speak for us all. And when I see the systematic and evermore horrific atrocities that Israel is carrying out, and the vile Jewish supremacist arguments being used to justify them, I wonder what Jewish identity means and why I should recognise it for myself.
Clearly, which is why I will speak today as a Jew, it is important to be able to add another Jewish voice to all those saying “not in my name” – to underline that this violence is not a Jewish thing, but the product of an ethnic nationalist, and now fascist, ideology.
I also think it is important for non-Zionist Jews to reclaim Jewish culture and history from those who want to use it to justify their aggression. Working with Kurds whose cultural identity has been systematically denied has helped me to appreciate the importance of free cultural expression for a community’s dignity and full enjoyment of life. It has also made me ask questions about how to avoid one cultural identity being used as a tool to oppress others, or being exploited by powerful actors to recruit support, or to play games of divide and rule – all of which have been used against the Kurds.
Cultural identity and the Kurdish Freedom Movement
Although the Kurdish Freedom Movement began as a movement for a Kurdish state, Abdullah Öcalan later recognised the risk of replacing Turkish ethnic nationalism with Kurdish, as well as of reproducing hierarchical state structures more generally. He addressed these concerns by advocating for regional autonomy, with grassroots democracy, cultural freedom, and the deliberate inclusion of representatives from different ethnic and cultural groups. This has its own problems, with risks of accentuating and preserving ethnic differences, but where it has been put into practice in North and East Syria, it has provided an example of peaceful coexistence in a divided region. The Administration describes their system as a model for the whole of Syria and beyond, but persuading President Assad to accept any sort of autonomy and genuine democracy has so far proved impossible.
Turkish ethnic nationalism
The biggest obstacle to peace in the region is Turkish ethnic nationalism, which allows no space for any other ethnic or cultural identities. Turkey has always been determined to force Turkish culture on all its citizens, and to outlaw and punish all other cultural expression – particularly Kurdish, the culture of the country’s biggest minority. As I observe every week, this results in both oppression within the country and cross-border aggression into the Kurdish regions of neighbouring states. From the perspective of the Turkish government, this serves not only to impose a high cost on all Kurds who refuse to comply, but also to provide a scapegoat that can be blamed for the country’s economic difficulties, an enemy that can be used to provoke patriotic fervour, and an excuse for extending Turkish control into neighbouring states.
President Erdoğan’s politics are driven by the pursuit of power, and he now believes that he can achieve power most effectively by playing to the nationalists and to religious conservatives. This has cemented his alliance with the far-right Nationalist Movement Party (MHP), which he has relied on since 2015, and has consolidated a reactionary voter base. But, as the March local elections demonstrated, his position is far from secure. A recent analysis by Bloomberg Economics suggests that Turkey is at risk of civil unrest due to the combination of political polarisation, suppression of dissent, and widespread economic hardship. These pressures may encourage Erdoğan to increase pressure on the Kurds, and to seek distraction and national unity through more war.
Inside Turkey
This week, ethnic and political oppression within Turkey included detention of at least nine political activists in Istanbul and Mardin; the arrest of three men who were listening to Kurdish music in a park in the western province of Balıkesir; postponement, at the eleventh hour without cause, of the release of Kurdish poet, İlhan Sami Çomak, who has been in prison for 29 years in a case that was widely criticised, including by the European Court of Human Rights, for lack of evidence; jailing of three people from northern Syria for sharing a photograph of themselves in front of a flag of the People’s Defence Units (YPG), twelve years ago; and rejection by the Turkish Parliament of the opposition’s call for a discussion on the position of Turkish Workers’ Party MP, Can Atalay, whom the Constitutional Court ruled has been illegally excluded from parliament and imprisoned. (This was the debate in which government MPs resorted to physical violence.)
Meanwhile, Meral Danış Beştaş, a deputy from the pro-Kurdish DEM Party, has highlighted the severe conditions facing political prisoners, including extreme use of solitary confinement and minimal access to the outdoors; and MHP leader, Devlet Bahçeli, has called for the stopping of funds for the DEM Party to punish them for criticising lavish government spending and favours for the elite while the majority struggle.
Turkey in Iraq
Turkey has made no secret of wanting to control a broad swathe of territory across the north of both Syria and Iraq. These are predominantly Kurdish areas, where Kurds have attained a level of autonomy, and are part of the territory demanded by Turkey in the negotiations that resulted in the Treaty of Lausanne – territory that some Turkish nationalists still lay claim to. For Turkey, control here thus serves a double purpose.
The current focus of Turkish aggression is the Kurdistan Region of Iraq, where Turkish troops are carrying out an invasion and occupation under the guise of “eliminating” the PKK. Over the last weeks, Turkey has expanded their network of military bases and roads 15km deep into Iraq, and they have massed troops and military vehicles in anticipation of a threatened “summer offensive”. They have emptied out villages and destroyed agriculture and forest. On Friday, a Turkish drone struck a car, killing two journalists and wounding another.
To assist their own soldiers, Turkey has brought in mercenaries recruited from the jihadi militias in Syria. Over 550 such fighters have been sent to Iraq, according to the Syrian Observatory for Human Rights. Turkey also sends village guards – locally recruited paramilitaries from Bakur, or southeast Turkey – though some of these have refused to be sent to Iraq.
The PKK, based in tunnel complexes that run deep into the mountains, continue to resist, causing Turkish casualties and even bringing down Turkish drones. Turkey is attempting to encircle them and constrain their movements.
Turkey’s advances have been made possible by the Kurdistan Democratic Party (KDP) of Masoud Barzani, and their Peshmerga forces. To the anger and disgust of other Kurdish groups, the KDP, which fought for Kurdish autonomy, has effectively become a vassal of the Turkish state. This is no longer hidden. In April, when Erdoğan visited Erbil, many Kurds were angered to see the Turkish flag projected onto the walls of the citadel. Now, Turkish military vehicles are rolling into the Kurdistan region under KDP protection beneath the Kurdish alaya rengîn, or colourful flag – the one with the sun in the centre. When the journalists were killed yesterday, the KDP, acting as friend of Turkey, claimed immediately that they were PKK – and this was reported uncritically by Reuters.
A possible, and worrying, new dynamic has emerged with the memorandum of agreement signed a week ago by Turkey and Iraq. The contents of the agreement have now been leaked, but the jury is out on its significance. The agreement talks about eliminating terrorist threats (which for Turkey means the PKK), and about ending Turkey’s military presence in Iraq – but without a timetable. Turkey’s much-resented Bashiqa military base is planned to become a security coordination centre run jointly between the two countries – not just by Iraq as portrayed last week by Iraq’s foreign minister.
Al Monitor quotes expert opinions that suggest little may actually change and that, like previous agreements, this one may not be kept. It is not legally binding. They point out that the two countries haven’t yet even been able to agree on reopening the oil pipeline from Kirkuk into Turkey.
This coming week, Turkey will host ministers from Iraq, Qatar, and the United Arab Emirates to discuss the huge Development Road Project, which is planned to provide a road and rail link connecting Basra to Turkey. Turkey argues that elimination of the PKK is a prerequisite for this project.
Turkey in Syria
In Syria, Erdoğan hopes to make a deal with President Assad to join forces against the Kurds, but Assad, who derives strength from his Russian backers, won’t talk until Turkey has a timetable for withdrawing from the parts of Syria they occupy. Instead, Turkey continues with their war of attrition against the Kurds and their allies, which is aimed at sowing discontent and destabilising their Autonomous Administration of North and East Syria.
On Monday, four people were injured outside a hospital when Turkey fired a rocket into central Qamishlo. On Wednesday, Turkey launched a double tap drone strike that wounded four civilians in Shehba.
In Turkish occupied Afrîn, Turkey and their mercenaries detained around fifty people in the first two weeks of August, and in many cases the victim’s whereabouts are not known.
While the Autonomous Administration of North and East Syria works hard to promote cultural freedom and inclusivity, those who want to destabilise their autonomous project are ready to exploit differences and stoke enmity.
Sarah Glynn is a writer and activist – check her website and follow her on Twitter
