The Statement of Kani Xulam at the New York Newroz Celebration

Forest Hills, New York

March 16, 2002

 

We are gathered here tonight to celebrate Newroz that happens to fall on a day of shame and infamy not just in our history, but for humanity.  This morning, 14 years ago, our brothers and sisters, mothers and fathers, cousins and uncles, and nephews and nieces were attacked with chemical and biological weapons in the city of Halapja.  About 5.000 of us died on the spot.  I ask that we honor our dead, those of Halapja as well as martyred Kurdish freedom fighters, by observing a minute of silence.

 

May their souls rest in peace even though their sojourn on earth ended in an untimely, inexplicable, and excruciating way.

 

Our losses in Halapja continue to remain just ours, even though the crime was against civilization and humanity.  Only recently, those who speak for America and the West have rediscovered our dead and only now are they accusing Saddam Hussein for gassing, are you ready for this, "his own people".

 

We resent the use of our dead as evidence for another war that seeks to topple the butcher of Baghdad but disregards our pain and longings.  Our right to prosecute the criminal in Baghdad remains sacrosanct and no Kurd will ever forget or forgive those who shed the Kurdish blood like water.

 

We have news for these new miscreants of the world who are oblivious to the teachings of history.  2614 years ago, their kinds also dominated the Middle East and ruled from a capitol called Nineveh.  One man, whose blood runs deep in your veins, toppled that tyranny to the joy of millions of people throughout the Middle East.  The immortal Kurd was Kawa.  His gift of freedom to us and to the rest of humanity was Newroz.  Newroz Pirozbe!  Happy Newroz!

 

Before I go any further, I would like to recognize at this time, the members of our community who have gone above and beyond the call of duty to organize this annual gathering.  They have worked tirelessly without complaints or the expectations of praise.  I want them to stand up as I call their names.  Seyit Riza, Memo, Berzan, Meliha, Attilla, Cafer, Semsi and Aziz.  Please join me in giving them a hearty round of applause.

 

We also have our out of state guests, Xemgin Birhat, Ayhan and Bangin who join us from Germany, and Sehruz Ahmedi and Sinan who do the same from Canada.  The first group has crossed an ocean and the second a continent to honor us tonight.  We are grateful to you for honoring us with your presence.  We look forward to hearing your patriotic songs.  Please join me in giving our guests a round of applause as well.

 

It is a difficult time in our nation's history.  The dark clouds of oppression have long blocked the blue and clear skies of freedom over our Kurdistan.  Generations of Kurds have grown up fighting the Assyrians, the Greeks, the Romans, the Persians, Arabs, Christians, Mongols, the Ottoman and Kemalist Turks for freedom and a place of our own under the sun.  God is our witness  -- we have feared only him, and no one else.  Immortal souls such as Kawa, Rustem, Saladin, Seyh Said, Seyit Riza, Qazi Muhammed, Mullah Mustapha Barzani, Mazlum Dogan, Zekiye Alkan, Ronahi and Berivan have guided us with their examples of selfless lives.

 

A blind poet by the name of Homer wrote some 2800 years ago that when a people loses its freedom, male members of that unfortunate population lose half of their manhood.  What Homer saw missing Kawa restored to us with his fight against King Dehak.  But the precious gift of freedom did not last for long.  Modern tyrants such as Turkey's Ataturks, Iraq's Husseins, Iran's Ayatollahs and Syria's Asads have turned the Middle East into a black hole for our kind and a fearful place for their peoples.  But one thing has withstood the test of time: freedom was our gift to the peoples of the Middle East, and it is almost certain that it will be our present to the region again.

 

Our Middle East will only enjoy peace when it tackles the quintessential issue of not just our times but also of the last three hundred years, the principle of self-determination for subject peoples.  In it lies the sacred will of the Kurdish nation to be free of others as well as the Middle East's only chance to catch up with the world.  You and I are quite familiar with the Herculean efforts of our adversaries to block our journey into our manhood.  Nothing stopped us before to respond to freedom's call; nothing will block us again to put an end to the debilitating legacies of Ataturk, Saddam, Ayatollahs and Asad to restore Middle East to its former glory.

 

Many brave Kurds have shed their precious blood for the sacred call in our own times.  In the memory of some still living Qazi Muhammed went to his gallows with the confidence of a sleep-walker, for a dream called Kurdistan.  The square of carcira in the city of Mahabad where he wore the noose and bid his final farewell to a nation defeated but ever defiant will remain in our memory till the end of the time.  That same spirit guided a contemporary of ours, Mazlum Dogan, who ignited a resistance with a lighter that consumed his flesh but gave rise to our dearest dream called Kurdistan.

 

The poets from Homer to our own age have always had the last word.  I have had a life long fascination with these immortals, some, our own, such as Melaye Ciziri, Eli Heriri, Feqiye Teyra, Ehmede Xani, Cigerxwin and recently Shahîn B. Soreklî.  They have a way of gauging the depths of our feelings that put us scribblers to shame.  I would like to end my remarks by reading you a few lines of Sorekli about the celebration we call Newroz:

 

"Newroz is the symbol of struggle and resistance

for a nation deprived of freedom and peace.

Newroz is the desire to create a New Day

in a country by force divided, in darkness for years.

Newroz is a page of world history

forged and locked behind iron gates;

a book written by sacred blood

with pages scattered over every corner of a land

where pure white snow begins to melt in March

and the yellow bright sun of Zaroastra in spring

turns the land of the Medes into a green carpet.

Newroz is the fury of those massacred in Ararat,

the cries of those in Dêrsim burned in closed caves,

the sighs of mourning mothers and wives

whose husbands and sons were hanged in Mahabad,

the agony of the five thousand gassed in Halabcha,

the pain of two million refugees fleeing chemicals.

Newroz is the aspiration of young men and women

who every day die so others may live free.

Newroz is the return of the sun,

the defeat of the darkness,

the hope for a better tomorrow

in Kurdistan."

 

Newroz Pirozbe.