I cannot write anymore, I only scream now.

Translated by: translators for justice
Source: http://t24.com.tr/yazarlar/oya-baydar/yazi-degil-ciglik-zamani,13453

Dec 15th, 2015

Oya Baydar

I cannot write anymore; I only scream now. There’s nothing left that hasn’t been said or written anyway. Everything is crystal-clear for those who can hear and see with their hearts and consciences: The country is at war. The state and the government are fighting against their Kurdish citizens in the name of a war against a terrorist organization. Claiming a just war for the freedom of the people, Kurdish armed forces push their own people into death. Both parties are sacrificing the human life for the sake of their political aims and strategic goals. While lives go to waste and people perish, both parties have their own reasons justifying this bloodshed and cruelty: “They want to partition the country and to establish dominance in the region, claiming partnership in the government” says the government. “We fight to gain and to defend the existence, independence, and rights of our people” says the Kurdish movement. Meanwhile, violence breeds violence and the spiral of violence is rising up.

Diyarbakır: the heart of the region, the city of our good friends and comrades to whom we always feel guilty and indebted; the city embodying our utopia of peace. This ancient and holy city is turning into hell each and every day. Cizre, Lice, Nusaybin, İdil, Silvan, Derik, Sur, and many more are now besieged battlefields. Mosques, schools, and hospitals are burning down and destroyed. There is not one single inhabitable house in many neighbourhoods; shops are shut, shutters are down. The claim that there are no civilian casualties sounds real to you but it’s a lie for those who live there and who cry for their dead. Death becomes ordinary and people abandon their homes, neighbourhoods, homelands, loading a few belongings from their destroyed houses into a vehicle. Just like defeated peoples running away from their occupied lands.

A subject on which I frequently contemplate and write: The question of “who is right and who is wrong?” does not concern me any more. Or who blew up the mosque, who bombed the school, or who killed others for that matter… Because if there is an ongoing war somewhere, you can never reach the truth and no party can remain innocent. My only concern is those who suffer, die, get killed and doomed to hell; who have lost their homes, jobs, schools, and everyday lives; demanding lives but still worthy of living. At this point, I don’t care which side speaks the language of war and violence or who uses guns and violence. Neither those who fight for “the unbreakable unity of the homeland”, nor those who think they fight for the people…

Because I know what’s happening over there is not protecting the unity of the homeland and the nation; rather, a government operation is carried out in order to subjugate the Kurds and bring them to their knees, and to force them into submission by creating violence and terror. Moreover, the main objective of this operation is to endow someone with presidency, an opportunity for dictatorship, and absolute power. But I also know there is not a real people’s fight over there; it is just an illusion. Kurdish people cry out “Stop this war now! We can’t take it anymore. We want peace and only peace”. And they try to run away from hell, leaving behind their homeland. And you quite poetically tell them “Each flower is beautiful on its own land. It can sustain life only on its own land”, promising them only death, hunger, and suffering. Behind those ditches and barricades, very young Kurdish kids and people whose only wish is freedom lose their lives, die, and get killed. The freedom they are fighting for becomes the freedom of death; the rights they are fighting for become the right to die and to kill. Set out for the right reasons, in a wrong place, at the wrong time, and with wrong calculations, this conflict into which Kurdish people are dragged is destroying primarily the future of the same Kurdish people.

A victory or a government built on the dead and the ruins can never establish itself; nothing can be founded on blodstained grounds. Where humans are sacrified, “higher purposes” cease to be high; rather, they turn into lies only to strengthen the power and the position of the powerful.

I ask the government: what’s the point of establishing authority over people whose homes and hearts are in ruins, who lost their children; and what would that authority mean in abandoned neighbourhoods and sorrow stricken cities where the vitality of the everyday life is dead? What’s the point of trying to bring the dead to their knees? Does homeland mean ruins and cemeteries? Does it mean lost generations, children doomed to mountains, war, and death? I call out to the state, the government, and the officers in charge of the war: you are responsible for the country’s destruction, people’s agony, bloodshed, death, the atrocities befallen on the Kurds, the loss of future generations, this terrible and irrecoverable grief of mine, and the hopelessness of the people from east to the west.

PKK (Kurdistan Workers Party), KCK (Group of Coomunities in Kurdistan), and YDG-H (Revolutionary Youth Movement) I call out to you! Do you ever stop and look back now on this path that you once took as a freedom movement? Do you remember your leader Öcalan? What difference would your long-awaited self governance make in these forlorn ruins deserted by people in crowds where the joy of life is silenced, violence prevails, and death becomes ordinary? Do you ever think?

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