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ACQUIT YOUR ANCESTORS AND STRING UP YOUR ENEMIES
by Christopher de Bellaigue
The Daily Telegraph
May 9, 2009 Saturday
London
Rebel Land: Among Turkey's Forgotten Peoples
Visitors to Istanbul know that Turkey was a nation conceived in
opposites: Asian and European, Islamic and secular, cosmopolitan
and nationalist.
Perhaps they might also have heard about the Kurdish troubles in the
east; or the hangover from what many Armenians describe as the genocide
of 1915, which the Turkish state is determined to play down. Few,
though, will venture to the east of this massive country in person,
to the borderlands close to Kurdish Iraq and Armenia where these
issues are living history.
One man who made that journey (and stayed) is the journalist
Christopher de Bellaigue, the author of an acclaimed book on Iran
and a former Turkey correspondent for The Economist.
De Bellaigue chose to live in a small town called Varto, in the
province of Mus in eastern Turkey. There he found descendants of all
the groups (both religious and ethnic) that fought each other as the
Ottoman Empire retreated into Turkey's current borders. One early
scene is instructive: 30 Armenian-American tourists visit the ruined
monastery of Surp Karapet, or St John the Baptist, singing patriotic
songs in a land once filled with churches. Watching them are suspicious
Turkish soldiers, who wonder what claim these Armenians have on their
land. Further out there are Kurds, many of whose ancestors expelled
Armenians on behalf of the Ottomans, but who now dream of joining a
united Kurdistan.
Little ground is given in the battle over historical memory. "In
general, Vartolus use the past to acquit their ancestors and string
up their enemies," writes de Bellaigue. Few speak openly to him
about the Armenian killings, but some facts are uncontested: one
year into the First World War, as the Ottoman Empire was losing
the battle against the Russians, an Armenian deportation order was
issued by Istanbul. Thousands of Armenians fled or were killed. Some
modern historians claim that 1.5 million died in an organised
genocide. Ataturk, the founder of the People's Republic, admitted later
(privately) that atrocities took place, but claimed these were local
initiatives. The national archives remain closed on this matter.
The culpability or otherwise of the Turkish state has become a
key question - not only regarding Turkey's proposed entry into the
European Union, but also in challenging the founding myths of the
secular nationalist state.
De Bellaigue hears that at the time one Kurd in Varto warned an
Armenian friend: "I am telling you that the government has ordered
the massacre of Armenians and the looting of their goods. Save
yourself!" There are reports of Sunnis and Alevis (a small sect with
shifting loyalties ) fighting over the possessions left by fleeing (or
murdered) Armenians. But de Bellaigue questions the label "genocide";
for later on, when the Russians pushed back the Ottomans and took
over Varto, there were indiscriminate killings of Sunnis by returning
Armenians - though not on the same scale.
According to de Bellaigue, the accusation of genocide - with its
distinction of absolute perpetrator and absolute victim - makes
reconciliation between the sides more difficult. "What is needed is a
vaguer description," he argues, "connoting criminal acts of slaughter"
so everyone can be encouraged to mourn and atone.
The chances of this are slim while Turkey still feels threatened by
Kurdish separatists. As we have seen, at first the Kurds fought for
the new republic. Ataturk made encouraging noises about allowing them
cultural autonomy. But, like the Armenians, their existence challenged
his vision of a monocultural Turkey. Soon the courts banned any use
of Kurdish and allowed Turkish-speaking settlers to take Kurdish land.
In 1925 a wealthy Kurd named Sheikh Sait, who was unhappy with
these measures and the anti-Islamic policies of Ataturk (a notorious
drunk, he legalised the sale of alcohol), led a rebellion in eastern
Turkey. The state responded by crushing his forces with air power,
and after that Ataturk never mentioned the word "Kurd" in public. The
descendants of such rebels have been more inclined towards Marx
ism than religion, most notably the PKK (in the Seventies it was
not unusual to see Varto shepherds reading Das Kapital). Since the
capture of the PKK leader Abdullah Ocalan in 1999 the rebellion has
quietened down. The ruling AK party has hinted to the EU that it is
prepared to come to a settlement with the Kurds. In the meantime,
Turkey's last substantial minority is still waiting.
This is a fascinating book. De Bellaigue knows the country very well
(he speaks fluent Turkish) and is alive to the sensitivities of all
sides. His account is not always particularly easy to follow; but
perhaps a linear narrative would have flattened out the many stories
he wishes to tell, which resemble, as he says, an "infinity of shapes".
by Christopher de Bellaigue
The Daily Telegraph
May 9, 2009 Saturday
London
Rebel Land: Among Turkey's Forgotten Peoples
Visitors to Istanbul know that Turkey was a nation conceived in
opposites: Asian and European, Islamic and secular, cosmopolitan
and nationalist.
Perhaps they might also have heard about the Kurdish troubles in the
east; or the hangover from what many Armenians describe as the genocide
of 1915, which the Turkish state is determined to play down. Few,
though, will venture to the east of this massive country in person,
to the borderlands close to Kurdish Iraq and Armenia where these
issues are living history.
One man who made that journey (and stayed) is the journalist
Christopher de Bellaigue, the author of an acclaimed book on Iran
and a former Turkey correspondent for The Economist.
De Bellaigue chose to live in a small town called Varto, in the
province of Mus in eastern Turkey. There he found descendants of all
the groups (both religious and ethnic) that fought each other as the
Ottoman Empire retreated into Turkey's current borders. One early
scene is instructive: 30 Armenian-American tourists visit the ruined
monastery of Surp Karapet, or St John the Baptist, singing patriotic
songs in a land once filled with churches. Watching them are suspicious
Turkish soldiers, who wonder what claim these Armenians have on their
land. Further out there are Kurds, many of whose ancestors expelled
Armenians on behalf of the Ottomans, but who now dream of joining a
united Kurdistan.
Little ground is given in the battle over historical memory. "In
general, Vartolus use the past to acquit their ancestors and string
up their enemies," writes de Bellaigue. Few speak openly to him
about the Armenian killings, but some facts are uncontested: one
year into the First World War, as the Ottoman Empire was losing
the battle against the Russians, an Armenian deportation order was
issued by Istanbul. Thousands of Armenians fled or were killed. Some
modern historians claim that 1.5 million died in an organised
genocide. Ataturk, the founder of the People's Republic, admitted later
(privately) that atrocities took place, but claimed these were local
initiatives. The national archives remain closed on this matter.
The culpability or otherwise of the Turkish state has become a
key question - not only regarding Turkey's proposed entry into the
European Union, but also in challenging the founding myths of the
secular nationalist state.
De Bellaigue hears that at the time one Kurd in Varto warned an
Armenian friend: "I am telling you that the government has ordered
the massacre of Armenians and the looting of their goods. Save
yourself!" There are reports of Sunnis and Alevis (a small sect with
shifting loyalties ) fighting over the possessions left by fleeing (or
murdered) Armenians. But de Bellaigue questions the label "genocide";
for later on, when the Russians pushed back the Ottomans and took
over Varto, there were indiscriminate killings of Sunnis by returning
Armenians - though not on the same scale.
According to de Bellaigue, the accusation of genocide - with its
distinction of absolute perpetrator and absolute victim - makes
reconciliation between the sides more difficult. "What is needed is a
vaguer description," he argues, "connoting criminal acts of slaughter"
so everyone can be encouraged to mourn and atone.
The chances of this are slim while Turkey still feels threatened by
Kurdish separatists. As we have seen, at first the Kurds fought for
the new republic. Ataturk made encouraging noises about allowing them
cultural autonomy. But, like the Armenians, their existence challenged
his vision of a monocultural Turkey. Soon the courts banned any use
of Kurdish and allowed Turkish-speaking settlers to take Kurdish land.
In 1925 a wealthy Kurd named Sheikh Sait, who was unhappy with
these measures and the anti-Islamic policies of Ataturk (a notorious
drunk, he legalised the sale of alcohol), led a rebellion in eastern
Turkey. The state responded by crushing his forces with air power,
and after that Ataturk never mentioned the word "Kurd" in public. The
descendants of such rebels have been more inclined towards Marx
ism than religion, most notably the PKK (in the Seventies it was
not unusual to see Varto shepherds reading Das Kapital). Since the
capture of the PKK leader Abdullah Ocalan in 1999 the rebellion has
quietened down. The ruling AK party has hinted to the EU that it is
prepared to come to a settlement with the Kurds. In the meantime,
Turkey's last substantial minority is still waiting.
This is a fascinating book. De Bellaigue knows the country very well
(he speaks fluent Turkish) and is alive to the sensitivities of all
sides. His account is not always particularly easy to follow; but
perhaps a linear narrative would have flattened out the many stories
he wishes to tell, which resemble, as he says, an "infinity of shapes".