The Stone Throwers of Diyarbakir

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“What is my name?” shouted a ten-year old boy in my face. “My name is PKK!”

I thought back to a moment when I was working on a story on a women’s prison in Afghanistan where the inmates often have and raise their children in jail. I asked one child his name. “My name is my mother,” he replied. He knew nothing else outside those walls, just as the stone throwers of Diyarbakir, who far too often barely come up to my shoulder, know nothing else. Decades of brutal oppression have left open wounds, and the conflict is long from being over. The ramparts of the ancient city are a potent symbol of the invisible walls that still stand between Turks, and the “other.”

Turkey’s Prime Minister, Tayyip Erdogan, made a poorly-timed visit to the Kurdish capital of Diyarbakir today in an attempt to woo the pro-Kurdish party, DTP, into voting in next year’s municipal elections for the ruling government party, AKP, which has steadfastly lost the former’s support in recent months. He came under the auspices of making a speech for the opening of the academic year at Dicle University, and to talk of new reforms in favor of the Kurds, but his remarks were drowned out by the DTP-called protests that swept across the eastern Kurdish territories after allegations surfaced at the weekend that the long imprisoned PKK leader Abdullah “Apo” Ocalan, had been tortured in custody. Miniature armies of boys took to the streets, shouting “Apo is our leader,” in unison and waged pitched battles with plain-clothed and riot police until nightfall. A 22 year-old man died of gunshot wounds in a neighboring city, scores were arrested, and an unkown number sustained injuries.

As PM Erdogan addressed the University audience, he announced that Turkish Radio and Television Corporation, TRT, would begin broadcasting 12 hours a day in the Kurdish language by the end of January, marking the first time in history that Kurds will be able to hear and watch full programming in their mother tongue. Many Kurds in Southeastern Turkey do not speak Turkish, and this will be an historic moment in their struggle for cultural freedom.

“In this country, every culture, be it Turkish, Kurdish, Bosnian, Georgian, adds to our common richness, no matter which ethnic root it comes from,” Mr. Erdogan said as he addressed his audience. “Despite all the provocations of the terrorist organization,” he continued, referring to the PKK, “we will concede neither security, nor democracy, nor human rights.” Adding that, “those trying to destroy that unity will get their answer from the brotherhood of this nation.”

The Turkish government has ushered in a number of pro-Kurdish reforms in recent years as it gears up to join the European Union, but many of the promises for reform and financial investment in the area are viewed more as manipulation rather than true conciliatory acts. Despite his seemingly progressive platform on the Kurdish problem, Prime Minister Erdogan is accused by many of slowly realigning himself with the military elite, which has long been the bane of every Kurd’s existence in these parts.

Although it can be said that progress is being made, the conflict persists, and the recent escalation in violence is proof of that. Human rights abuses continue, and the pro-Kurdish party, DTP, is currently threatened with dissolution by Turkish courts. DTP’s call for protests across the region upon the Prime Minister’s visit was more in response to the discrepant political intricacies of the conflict than to the alleged mistreatment of Ocalan.

Most shops had closed for the day in expectance of heated street clashes, and the morning began with the sound of surveillance helicopters and fighter planes flying overhead. At 6 pm, after a day full of dodging tear gas, water canons and vagrant flying stones, I took refuge in a bakery with some locals who handed me lemon and water to cool the burning sting of the gas. “This is not the way to win the fight,” said an old man rubbing his eyes. “It has been like this since 10 o’clock this morning. We need to get weapons to fight them and put an end to this.”

Just outside, a new generation of stone throwers hadn’t lost heart and continued to pelt the water canon tank in the dwindling hours of daylight. I was struck by how young so many of them were, and drew many parallels with the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. The deaf dialogue is identical, with one side, the one that is oppressed, being identified as terrorists, and the other painting itself as legitimately defending the nation against an illegitimate and violent group. Surely there are two sides to every story, but it takes a lot to push a parent to send his child into the streets with a bag full of stones and stand face to face with armed men. In a city where warplanes fly overhead daily, where arrests, torture and assassinations are not yet a thing of the past, what other future do they see for them?

Quote of the day:

“At best, military force can contain a terrorist campaign; it can never address the causes.” -Secretary of State for Northern Ireland, Peter Hain


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