Keeping the Language Alive

Rastinews — I always want to write about different subjects — current affairs and recent events in Kurdistan, the Middle East and the world. But the subject of my writing is always language, for the sake of its survival and growth. In Northern Kurdistan (Bakur), most intellectuals write in Turkish. Many Kurdish writers and intellectuals write their books on Kurdish history and historical experience in Turkish. Many Kurds publish magazines and newspapers, and many Kurds who use social media platforms share content there too — all of it in Turkish. Of everything published and shared, the Kurdish share is, unfortunately, barely ten percent (%10). That is why I write, and will keep writing, in Kurdish — stubbornly and insistently.

Among our people there are many who are patriots yet do not speak Kurdish. When they try to speak it, the vocabulary left in their minds is not enough to express what they mean, so they abandon Kurdish and continue in Turkish. When we cannot understand one another, we cannot unite in patriotism or in the demand for our rights. If we cannot understand each other in our own language, and cannot advance national consciousness through it, what difference remains between us and the foreign intellectuals who write about us Kurds? Nationhood and statehood are built on the foundation of language.

When I compare Kurdish with foreign languages, in depth of meaning and richness of vocabulary alike, I can say that in Kurdish — without exaggeration — one can express a subject more clearly, more powerfully and more beautifully than in other languages. Some Kurdish words and names simply have no equivalent in foreign languages. Through comparison, I see the richness of the Kurdish language. In an earlier piece I gave some examples of words in foreign languages with no Kurdish counterpart. I won't repeat them here, so as not to make this piece too long.

Unfortunately, many of our patriotic writers and intellectuals, when they write books in Kurdish, are not truly fluent or confident in the language. Leaning on dictionaries and thinking in Turkish, they produce prose that is stiff, forced, strained and weak. As a result, readers struggle to follow them, and this holds back the progress of Kurdish reading and literature. Kurdish books, accordingly, are read less. Unfortunately, only a small number of Kurdish intellectuals and writers are genuinely fluent and confident in the language — but because of that fluency, their books read smoothly and their subject matter comes through clearly. I can say that, in both structure and natural narration, their books carry the true taste of the Kurdish language.

Many people say we should speak, write and share in the language of our opponents, so that they understand what we are saying. I don't believe that. To this day I have never written for any magazine, newspaper or social media platform in any language other than Kurdish, and I never will. I always say: those who genuinely want to understand our speech, our writing and what we share will understand it even if we write in our own language. But those who do not want to understand will not understand us even if we write in theirs. Understanding comes from affection and will; without affection and will, there is no understanding.

Art and literature play a large and crucial role in protecting a language. In recent years, artists have fulfilled, and continue to fulfil, their role. Social media, unsupervised and uncontrolled, does not fully live up to its role — yet that role, too, is highly important. In literature, more than half of the books on Kurdish subjects, on Kurdistan and on Kurdish experience have been written in Turkish. Perhaps our new generation benefits from them where history is concerned, but they also distance our new generation from the Kurdish language. This, too, is a grave mistake. Kurds read Turkish-language books more than Kurdish ones.

In translation, we have fallen far behind. Our writers and intellectuals continue their efforts in Kurdish, but Kurds do not read only books by Kurdish intellectuals — they read world literature too. That is why translation work needs to become far stronger among us. It is essential that world literature be translated into Kurdish, so that our new generation does not need the language of the occupier in order to read it. The need for the occupier's language must be curbed. In this era, a great responsibility falls on the shoulders of the Kurdish diaspora. The Kurdish diaspora can carry out this task, and succeed at it.

So far I have written and published three novels in Kurdish: Enfala Jîyanê ("The Anfal of Life"), Leyla Tîyarî ("Leyla the Wanderer"), and Kole Simayîl. A fourth, titled Heşt Meh û Sê Demsal ("Eight Months and Three Seasons"), is in my hands, still unfinished, and I am working toward its publication. Many Turkish acquaintances and intellectuals have told me they want to read my books, and have asked me to have them translated into Turkish. But I have not wanted to produce a Turkish translation. I know that even if one were made, Kurds would still read it in Turkish. Among those who read the Turkish version, some would be intellectuals, and some would be democrats.

If I had a Turkish translation made, I would feel like a guilty party, as if I had strayed from my own duty and purpose. A Turkish translation would serve no benefit to my fundamental task. I want translations made into the languages of the world, but not into the language of the occupier and its collaborators. For years I have worked for the sake of the Kurdish language — how, then, could I fall into serving my own narrow interests, abandon my language, abandon the defence of my cause, abandon my duty?

I hope that our Kurdish people will now think deeply and far ahead about nationhood and statehood. I hope our Kurdish organizations will consider their work carefully and act on it. Let our homeland Kurdistan, our Kurdish nation and our Kurdish language become our shared goals, driving us toward a bright future.