By Ferzan Şêr November 8, 2024
In her book “The World Republic of Letters,” Pascale Casanova discusses literary autonomy, noting that alongside other criteria such as translatability, acceptance, and awards, one of the primary measures of this republic is the detachment from nationalism. According to Casanova, during World War II in Spain, Spanish writers retreated inward, and national priorities once again took precedence. National concerns, during times of war or exceptional circumstances (crises, conflicts, catastrophes, etc.), take precedence over artistic needs (autonomy, poetics). This week, I felt compelled to deviate from my routine contemplation and create an incomplete collage from my available fragments. Partly, inevitably, magazine-style.
(From the kitchen: With this collage, the initial title “Excessive Kurds and Kurds That God Should Multiply” transforms into “Ahmet Turk or Not-Turk: This Is the Whole Matter,” as during crises, politics precedes art and artistic identity; instead of referencing Şener Ozmen, Ahmet Turk’s name appears. Moreover, its Shakespearean inspiration and the “Not-Turk” element borrows from Hêja Not-Turk’s surname.)
In 2016, when the Academics for Peace released their text titled “We will not be party to this crime!” I was one of the signatories. Following Erdogan’s declaration and decree at that time, many cases were opened against academics. A case was also filed against me. When we went to the National Security Office for statements, there were other academics present to give their statements. Among those waiting was a female professor, if I’m not mistaken from the Art History department, who had come from outside Turkey to give her statement. During our conversation, I asked her if she knew Şener Ozmen. Of course, she did. She said, “Şener Ozmen is too Kurdish.” This excess Kurdishness translated in my mind to black Kurdishness, leaving a delicious taste in my ironic smile: What a pleasant excess.
At the beginning of the week, when trustees were appointed to the municipalities of Mardin, Batman, and Halfeti, Turkish journalist Cüneyt Özdemir wrote a tweet, sarcastically/critically stating “Ahmet Türk is too Kurdish! (this is his crime).”
That respected professor who didn’t want to be complicit in the state’s crimes certainly wasn’t saying something “bad.” If she had shared the dominant racist ideology (what Orhan Koçak calls “The Great Complicity”) of her country, she would have been complicit with them, but she didn’t become “party to this crime.” Therefore, her linguistic hesitation in Turkey emerges from the manifestation of Kurdish identities. Kurds are savage, stubborn, ignorant; they are rebels, resisters, peace-seekers. From this perspective, all forms of Kurdishness are excessive – meaning normal and natural Kurdishness is already too excessive. People like that professor might not express their opinions if not asked, might not pay much attention to these matters. However, the right wing is more reactionary, calling for interventions. As Uncle Musa says regarding the “nail-and-flesh relationship between Kurds and Turks”: “We Kurds and Turks are like nail and flesh; but we Kurds have always been the nail, when we grow a bit too long, they suddenly cut us off.” Excessive Kurdishness, like many things, is meant for cutting, trimming, clipping, severing, and sometimes for sharing.
If there is excessive Kurdishness, surely there must be a reasonable deficiency in the conception of measurements. According to what and whom is this excess determined? On September 8, 2023, on SozcuTV’s “Para Politika” program, Bariş Doster discussed state savings and civil servants’ love for the state, making such an interesting example that I had to look up from my breakfast table at the monitor whose sound caught my attention. Bariş Doster was praising the work ethic of Turkish language poet (“our famous poet,” he says) Cemal Süreya, who once worked as a state employee. According to this praise and narration, Cemal Süreya loved his work so much that he would bring unfinished work from state offices home to continue working on it. At that time, people used pins to attach paper pages together. At home, when he removes the pins and the pin work is undone, he presumably places them on the table. Finally, his mother collects these remaining pins at home, puts them in an envelope, and gives them to him saying, “my son, these are state property. Let’s not be indebted for them; there are orphans’ rights in these.” Cemal Süreya puts these pins in his pocket and takes them back to the state office. In the Kemalist state, state property is more sacred than anything. I believe there are many such people, but he remembers a Kurd who was a Turkish poet and state employee. Because after this episode, he was loudly discussing “state worship.”
When one recalls the Dersim exiles and the famous lines where the poet said “it was the barking of dogs before history,” one wonders when did Kurds ever love their “superiors” (pardon me Kurd, I’m softening the word enemy, the vocabulary and ethics of “postcolonialism” impose this on us) this much?
To summarize briefly, they are too Kurdish, those who live distant from this love, deprived of this love, are too Kurdish. Those who aren’t excessive are excessively Kurdish. They are male lambs, but not for the knife.
Notes: [1] https://x.com/cuneytozdemir/status/1853314151004754068 [2] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TNTVzJ58ZqE between 2:18:15 – 2:19:00
