‘Whose is This Song?’ or a quest for Balkan unity

The documentary, titled “Whose Is This Song? (“Chiya e tazi pesen?” in Bulgarian), depicts Peeva’s journey with a camera in hand around Turkey, Greece, Macedonia, Albania, Bosnia and Herzegovina, Serbia and Bulgaria, where she discovers that the song is sung by all of these nations. The song, “Katibim” in Turkish, is a love song in one place, a religious hymn somewhere else and a song rousing the national fighting spirit in another area.

A considerable number of reviews about the documentary interpreted it as showing how an ordinary song could become an instrument of fanatical nationalism and that it pessimistically uncovered mutual strife instead of Balkan unity.

İstanbul, one of the stops on Peeva’s itinerary, was the host for a regional summit of southeastern European countries. During the three-day summit of the South-East European Cooperation Process (SEECP), while Turkey handed over the chairmanship-in-office of the regional body, which it had held since June 2009, to Montenegro, İstanbul also hosted the “Eighth Meeting of the Summit Forum of the Heads of State of South-East European Countries on Cultural Corridors.”

Mostly going unnoticed by the media probably due to the speedy flow of items on both the domestic and foreign policy agenda, this year’s forum on cultural corridors was held under the theme of “Music as a Metaphor of Cultural Dialogue in South-East Europe.”

Ankara says the choice of the theme “aims at highlighting the music, forming the basis of our cultural identity through tunes of friendship, as a cultural corridor that needs to be protected and promoted.”

The summit gathered Balkan nations that have barely talked to one another following atrocities committed in the Balkans in the 1990s, which marked the bloodiest conflict in Europe since World War II. Unlike what Peeva’s documentary suggested, according to reviews, Turkish leaders see the same songs being sung in different languages within the entire Balkan region as a unique characteristic that should serve as a reminder of the common history among Balkan nations. In line with this understanding the motto of Turkey’s chairmanship-in-office was chosen as “From Shared History to Common Future,” as “the bare expression of Turkey’s firm belief in the common future of the Southeast European region.”

As a matter of fact, the İstanbul summit, with the asset of the SEECP as the only Balkan cooperation forum in the region, offered Ankara an opportunity to emphasize the importance of understanding “regional ownership” in the Balkan region, called by some a perpetual powder keg.

Komşu, komshi, neighbor

According to Turkish President Abdullah Gül, music is a major expression of cultural identity.

“We need to hear and tell the timbres of friendship and solidarity. I can already see the opportunity that will carry a fresh wind of optimism to our region if we join forces. There is no time to lose for new ideas and ways of thought,” Gül said during a speech at a dinner he hosted for his guests at the summit on Tuesday evening.

At another occasion during the summit, Gül said: “We should prevent the Balkans from being mistakenly known as an inexorable, strange and complex piece of land. We should turn this land into a place of mutual understanding and tolerance as it was in the past […] Turkey sees all countries in the Balkans, whether they have a common border or not, as its neighbors.”

As it would be expected, it was not only Turkish leaders who referred to the country’s policy of “zero problems with neighbors.”

Speaking at a trilateral joint press conference held at the end of the summit, Gül and Montenegrin President Filip Vujanovic were joined by Serbian President Boris Tadic, whose country will hold the chairmanship-in-office following Montenegro.

“The Balkans will be a zero-problem neighborhood,” said Tadic, as he addressed Gül as “komşu,” the Turkish word for “neighbor,” which is commonly used in the Balkan region as “komshi.”

Some of the commentators who suggest that there is a shift in Turkey’s foreign policy orientation also argue that Turkey’s close interest in the Balkan region has been inspired by a so-called ideology called “neo-Ottomanism,” in an apparent bid to explain that the conservative ruling Justice and Development Party (AK Party) has a deep longing for the Ottoman era.

In November Serbian member of the Presidency of Bosnia and Herzegovina Nebojsa Radmanovic had expressed resentment over the fact that during a visit to Sarajevo in October, Davutoğlu said, “Sarajevo is our city.”

Radmanovic suggested that such remarks have led to fear in the Balkans, in apparent reference to the rule of the Ottoman Empire in the region. Yet, the full quote by Davutoğlu was a bit longer: “Sarajevo is our city, and İstanbul is your city.”

The message was reiterated during this week’s summit, with Davutoğlu welcoming the participants, stating that İstanbul is their city as well.

War, peace and ‘Katibim’

As a matter of fact, İstanbul served as a unique venue in May for showing the universality of music and how timbres can be carried miles away from one part of the world to another part of the world.

When Davutoğlu hosted a dinner for participants of a three-day UN-sponsored conference for Somalia, guests shared the joy of listening to UN Secretary-General Ban Ki-moon as he sang the famous old folk song “Katibim” in his native language.

When the fasıl (a series of songs in the same genre played one after another in a combined fashion without breaks) group played the song, Ban turned to Davutoğlu sitting next to him and mumbled the song in Korean. When Davutoğlu invited him to sing it to all participants, Ban first explained how this song was known in his country because of the Turkish troops who went to help South Korea as part of a United Nations force during the 1950-53 Korean War and then sang the song in Korean.

Any movie, even documentaries, can be interpreted in different ways. While some have said that Peeva’s “Whose Is This Song?” on the folk song “Katibim” pessimistically uncovered mutual strife instead of Balkan unity, there are also optimistic interpretations of the message given by the same documentary. “Despite its poignant or confrontational moments, the film leaves viewers not with a grim impression of a dark future for the Balkans. On the contrary, its cautious optimism springs directly from the wonderful song that people continue to sing regardless of who composed it many years ago,” one such interpretation said, echoing Ankara’s understanding that songs being sung in different languages in the region should serve as a reminder of the common history among Balkan nations and help build a common future.