And they say God will descend one day on a black mountain. Matur says it will happen somewhere in Diyarbakır.
Matur, a young Kurdish intellectual known for her utterly sensitive articles and profound wisdom on politics and cultural matters in the daily press, talks about the prophecy in her new book “Diyarbakır -- Gate to the East.”
It is a wonderful book, filled with poetry and beautiful photography by Murat Düzyol and Halil Kayır. In it, ancient and modern Diyarbakır meet to reveal what has changed and (mostly) remained unchanged: a city of doom, gloom, hope, dreams -- and spirits lost. A city whose Jews and Armenians and others were violently torn apart, where tribes and dynasties perished forever.
Today, a city, after centuries, at the heart of a destructive conflict.
Yes, hope. The newly founded Diyarbakır Foundation of Culture and Arts, led by a young and dynamic man with the unusual name of Fidel (Balta), aims to bring a breath of fresh air into this ever-politicized city, its sad and angry people.
The launch of the book by the foundation gave me a fine opportunity to visit Diyarbakır, after a year or so, to look and to listen.
“Ask questions, only ask,” urged a middle-aged man in the quiet yard of the “Dengbej House” hidden inside the labyrinth of the old city.
I and some colleagues had listened to the elderly Dengbej sing their ancient and new stories for a while. There are around 23 Dengbej in that house. They are troubadours “employed” by the municipality, and they gather every day in that yard, simply to sing. There are fables and parables about politics, death, war, losses, sultans and prime ministers, Kurdish warriors, conquests, brides, martyrdom, even Obama.
In a culture that is scarred by illiteracy, they serve to refresh, and transfer to other generations, the collective memory.
The man urging us referred obviously to the politics of today. Without waiting for questions, with the help of elderly men nodding around him on the bench, he entered a lengthy “enough is enough” narrative, asking for steps from Ankara to end the bloody conflict. Like many others in the city, he did little to conceal his sympathy for the Kurdistan Workers' Party (PKK), but only for keeping the Kurdish plight on the agenda for such a long time. But, as many elsewhere in Turkey would probably agree, he came back to the theme of how time was “more ripe than ever” to say farewell to arms.
Others, among them Dengbej singers, silently followed.
Elsewhere, raised hopes mixed with a cautious anticipation…
I met with a couple of high-level officials, well-informed politicians of the region and prominent Kurds whose families, generation after generation, decade after decade, had suffered prosecution and exile, simply because they were Kurds.
The official narrative was changed into an even softer tone. I was, as it were, assured by officials that the “utmost” would be done to end the conflict. Mostly it was off the record. But some points were clear: First, until politicians in Ankara find common ground to reform the Political Parties Law, a verdict in the closure case against the Democratic Society Party (DTP) seems very remote. Second, the latest operations against the PKK's Kurdistan Democratic Confederation (KCK) exposed how deep the penetration of the organization was in DTP-led municipalities. Examples given to me revealed a remarkable “chain of command” structure, putting mayors in subordinate positions, to follow orders, and if necessary, be “interrogated” by, very young militants. “You would be surprised how many DTP mayors are fed up and even angry with this,” the official told me.
His cautious optimism was shared elsewhere, when I met with two prominent Kurdish Justice and Development Party (AK Party) deputies. “I cannot tell you strongly enough how important 2009 is,” one of them said. “This is the year that miracles can happen.”
I met the second one on the street. We walked a long time. His analysis was simple. “It is as if all the parts have hit a wall,” he began. “The military now realizes that even if it mobilized half a million soldiers, it would not be able to manage. If you look at the region carefully, you understand that there will be no more chances for the PKK to be in Iraq. They know that they no longer can.”
When I insisted that the PKK could extend its armed struggle given the election results in favor of the DTP, he disagreed with me, saying: “They can, of course. But, they can never, ever find a better opportunity to bargain.” He then explained, off the record, what he expects to happen by the autumn and, if it all goes well, beyond. He only hopes that there will be no acts of violence, no provocation.
Just like that? “No, of course not. But this is the summer that will show us the future,” he said.
On the way back, I met a native businessman from the city. “No more delays,” he said. “Because the people you see around you are on the verge of breaking off.” He referred to the mindset, the most critical element of all.
Perhaps what Matur refers to with the legend of descent may turn positive after all. Diyarbakır's chance of ridding itself of the curse was clearly visible, even in a 24-hour visit.
