So much bleeding, and more to come?

As if Iraq was a patient that had not suffered too much already, news of the contention between the Kurds [of Iraq] and the Turkish government comes in to shatter the infinitesimal probability that the region might be healed soon, that peace might come in the near future in the valley between Tigris and Euphrates. But how optimistic could one be if looking at Iraq today, if seeing that the single region of this extensive battlefield spared from belligerence entertains the possibility of immediate aggression?

The warning of the president of autonomous Kurdish region Massoud Barzani against Turkey issued during an interview in Arab television station Al-Arabiyah leaves little room for doubt: if Turkey invades Kirkurk, the Kurds of Iraq would retaliate and attack back this time in favor of the Kurds of Turkey. Not surprisingly the response of the Turkish military establishment is equally lucid. In the words of General Büyükanıt the army is ready and awaiting: "a political commanding decision is needed for a cross border operation. If we are assigned the mission, we will accomplish it".

For there is nothing worse to even ponder at this point than the possibility of an escalated conflict, one that would transcend the highly porous borders of Iraq to diverge and include neighboring states, beginning here with Turkey. To the world, Iraq is already a very badly infected wound; it takes up too many resources while showing little, if any signs of progress. The prospect of grand scale conflict in the region comes only with significant drawbacks; it needs not be repeated how it will compromise the chances for peace or the economic and political stability of the broader region or how it will deepen the divide along ethnic and religious lines.

To be sure, the goal here is not to present worst case scenarios, let alone to contribute to their popularity. Nonetheless, to refuse to undertake tough questions in whole or part just because they appear bleak is no good either - shunning away from reality does not help. It does help though to think that gloomy scenarios need not materialize into dreadful realities: it goes without a say that politics involves much more talking and much less action - thankfully so in most cases. Moreover it is in times like these that one resuscitates the lost confidence in diplomacy or for that matter discovers it for the first time: whether it is power dynamics or covert strategies, a number of unrelated factors shape outcomes and skew the decision-making process for better or worse - often in unpredicted ways. Finally, if one was to stick with the facts, in order to realistically assess the situation one must consider a wide array of factors and assumptions including dispelling notions of applicable: just because Turkey has a significant Kurdish minority this does not mean that all Kurds of Turkey want independence, let alone to be found overnight in a poor, landlocked state with little to offer.

Having said that all, Kirkurk is an important city with oil "worth" vying for. But it is neither oil and the fact that it scarce nor any other such individual factor that causes the greatest concern; it is the greedy nature of humans that makes one fear the most. Mahatma Gandhi has often been quoted for saying that "there is enough on earth for everyone's need, but not for everyone's greed"; he could not be more right here.


Links

The story: "Iraqi Kurds urged not to 'interfere' in fighting"
The Turkish reaction, in Turkish: "Siyasi irade isterse Kuzey Irak'a gireriz" and in English: "Assign us the mission and we will enter Iraq"
On the "international dimension" of the story and where diplomacy fits in "Gül urges Rice over Barzani's threats against Turkey"

'Vodka Lemon'

An Iraqi born Kurd who lives in Paris, director Hiner Saleem hits the snow-covered mountainous villages of Armenia to make a film about endurance and perseverance in times of adversity and uncertainty. Set in the post-Soviet era, the film explores the daily struggles of a population that is trying to adapt simultaneously to freedom and the new economic reality: focusing on the lives of Hamo and Nina, two widowers that ultimately develop a relationship of their own, the film never loses sight of its primary goal which is to extol the inner power of humans to rise above calamities.

At great risk of being insipid to the audience and even aesthetically unappealing, the film blatantly refuses ornaments and embellishments of any sort. Instead, it takes on harshness of everyday life - for Hamo (and Nina) it means taking endless trips to the cemetery to talk with the deceased spouse, selling their meager possessions for a few dollars, living in dilapidated houses, letting their children go... And yet a touch of humor or a proof that life has a hopeful side are also present in the film - just like vodka lemon, to lift the spirits. The finest example of this positive attitude towards life comes from the end of the film where Hamo and Nina ultimately hold on to the piano they intended to sell, despite being in a dreadful financial position. This is a truly powerful scene, one which through visual effects beautifully communicates l'état d'âme of the protagonists and their optimism to the audience.

Testament to the high caliber of the film is without a doubt its treatment of the question of resilience after the collapse of the Soviet regime: how does freedom stand next to the economic precariousness that came along? While freedom is clearly endorsed, criticism about the economic plight that ensued is not absent: references to the old times, "when there was no need to pay for gas, electricity or water" do exist. The heartbreaking scene of Hamo walking in the snow carrying an extremely heavy closet -just to sell it for a few dollars in the street- also goes along this direction. But even here one sees how characters soar beyond basics: when the bus driver forbade Nina to board because she had no money for the fare, she did not even think of asking a second time, but instead silently stepped down and walked back. And it is indeed interesting to see that this all comes from a director who is himself an individual longing for freedom, being a Kurd who fled Iraq and Saddam's regime. In an interview that accompanies the film Saleem comments on the question of freedom and Soviet nostalgia: "I do not make a judgment. I know that when people are hungry, they are in need of bread. But I also know that when people have bread but no freedom, it is as if though they have nothing at all."

Freedom being a notion almost interwoven with human existence, it has been at times a positive force but equally often, if not simultaneously, a source of clashes, even bloodshed. The cultural and geographic proximity of the film to an area of the world that has yet to agree on a common understanding of freedom -not to say adds a whole new dimension to the term- may be an additional impetus for watching this film. However, to label Vodka Lemon as political only or describe it with a single adjective would be a major injustice to the film, just like it would be to constrict freedom within a Wilsonian or a purely political framework.