L. Guyot 1
A Population Locked in a Memory Ghetto: - the Case of the Kurds from Turkey Living in France
“Ô poor nightingale!
The wind destroyed your nest,
You were wounded and forced to exile.
I know that your desire
Is not to own a golden cage
But to be able to return in your homeland[1].”
This poem from Aram, a Kurdish singer, summarises well the history of Kurdish exiles. Firstly, it illustrates the destruction of hundreds of Kurdish villages by the Turkish army[2], the persecutions and tortures endured by the Kurds, and the feeling of being expelled shared by numerous Kurdish migrants. Secondly, one can observe an indifference towards the conditions of settlement and an unfailing will to return to the homeland. These observations illustrate the strong links between the past, exile, and ways of apprehending the present in immigration. It shows that the past is not only not forgotten, but celebrated. In immigration, remembering sometimes becomes a duty putting a greater pressure on memory. More importantly, the central role given to memory in exile has consequences on its evolution, or on its lack of evolution. Among such consequences is the disruption of memory itself within the “normal” process of immigration, which in turn leads to a type of frozen memory for some Kurdish migrants. In this sense, the evolution of Kurdish memory in France takes on a peculiarly static character in the sense of being confined to the relatively narrow parameters of a past trapped by nostalgia and unable to foresee the future. This phenomenon may prevent integration.
What is significant in this research is not what is remembered, but how it is remembered, and more specifically what it teaches us about the memory process. The main hypothesis is that memory – and especially war memory – is not handled with the same intensity in the context of immigration[3]. Relating the evolution of memory within the Kurdish immigrated community to Henry Rousso’s analysis of collective traumatised memory could shed a different light on the obstruction of memory’ evolution.
This article concentrates on the Kurds who declare themselves as such and who are proud of their identity[4]. It is based on three different types of research. Firstly, a two year observation/participation was conducted between 2002 and 2004 in a Kurdish organisation defending Kurdish cultural and political rights. Although the observations made were strongly influenced by the political orientation of the association (close to the PKK), this participative work was an occasion to be part of the Kurdish daily life in France, and to assist in its different manifestations and cultural celebrations. Secondly, interviews were carried out with 54 Kurdish migrants of Turkish origin. These semi-conducted interviews were directed by 65 questions[5]. The data obtained represents direct testimony of the interviewees’ daily life in France, their past in Turkey, the reasons for their migration, and their hopes. Thirdly, the article is based on work on 150-asylum seekers’ files written during the application process for refugee status. This last research gives us a glimpse of memory as has it is narrated for the host state. In this three-sided field research, oral and written testimonies complete primary observation.
- Kurdish Immigrants and the Recreation of Their Original Environment: The Illustration of a Fixed Memory
A.Importing a Wounded Past
Despite being the world’s largest stateless nation since the Treaty of Lausanne (1924), the immigration of Kurds of Turkish origin to France is quite recent. It started in the late sixties and mid-seventies and built up after the Coup d’État in 1980 and the beginning of the military fight between the PKK (Kurdish Worker Party[6]) and the Turkish army (1984). Nowadays, despite a relative improvement in Kurdish regions – thanks to a four year long cease-fire declared by the PKK (2000-2004) and some reforms in Turkey imposed by the UE – the flow of Kurdish asylum seekers is still significant, and violence is currently re-escalating to a worrisome level.
There are around 120 000 Kurds of Turkish origin in France[7]. Kurdish immigration – even when economic motivations are involved – is linked to the high tension in the region, the fear and suspicion that reigns in every village, diverse prohibitions preventing a natural development of Kurdish identity[8], and, last but not least, the violent fight between the PKK and the Turkish army. Despite the categories imposed on them by host states (of economic migrants/refugees), what has to be remembered is that the Kurds feel compelled to flee.
An important number of Kurds consider their migration an exile, and therefore as temporary. According to their declarations, they were forced to leave and will come back sooner or latter. Out of 54 Kurds interviewed, 29 express a desire to return to their homeland, and 24 explain that their life is here now[9]. Amid the 54% of Kurds who demonstrate a desire to go back, a large number could be considered as integrated, at least in sociological and economical terms. It shows the still fervent attachment to country of origin, but also a difficulty in forgetting the past and really planning a future in France.
What is striking when observing the Kurdish community in France is its strong sense of belonging to another nation than its host state, its fervent will to re-build in exile the identity and the culture left behind, its still pregnant desire to return, and its regular political mobilisation. On that last point, Kurdish strikes and political actions are indeed numerous in France, and it is interesting to note that they are not organised to demand better living conditions in France, but to defend political and cultural rights in Turkey[10].
In fact, one more fundamental explanation of this situation lies in the heavy burden the war imposes on the Kurds. First and foremost, the Kurds are coming from what can be called a “never-ending conflict”[11]. It could be asserted that it started in 1924 (with the Treaty of Lausanne), when the Kurds were deprived of the territory promised by the Allies and by the Treaty of Sèvres (1921). Numerous revolts took place after the Treaty of Lausanne[12]. Since then, and despite a strong policy of forced assimilation[13] and the slow death of their identity between 1940-1970, the Kurds are trying to protect their idiosyncrasies and their culture. Finally, in 1984, the PKK launched an armed struggle against the Turkish army, asking for independence, then an autonomous region in a federal Turkey, and now political and cultural rights for the Kurds. The conflict has been violent, and deaths and disappearances were numerous, but it is said that it has awakened a sleepy and nearly-dead Kurdish spirit.
When dealing with immigrants coming from ethnic conflicts, especially intra-state ones, it is important to take into account the impact of the conflict’s motivations, and to remember that when identity is at stake, and when positive peace is hard to achieve, memory takes precedence over the present and is usually used to enhance a belligerent environment[14]. For the Kurds, their memory is their first nationalist symbol, the only tool to prove their difference. Claiming their own collective memory is also a way of finding a place in time, and of sharing a sense of continuity.
The transposition of this kind of conflict to a de-territorialized context gives a new dimension to “long-distanced nationalism,” and prevents integration. In fact, when the preservation of identity is threatened in the country of origin, it becomes more important to protect it in the host state and to maintain tight relations with the territory left behind. This is a feeling frequently observed during this research. Understanding the conflict that led to migration, and in general, the reasons for exodus, is the first step to identifying the links between memory and migration.
The association for the fraternity and culture of migrants (Göç-der) asserts that leaving Kurdistan meant “losing the meaning of their lives[15].” Involuntary migration, and exile in general, has several consequences for memory, and on the pressure placed on identity by the Kurdish community in France: it can freeze the image of the past.
B.Living in a Frozen Memory: The Creation of a Memory Ghetto
In this part, both the process of identity perpetuation and reconstruction and the attention given to a fixed idea of the past will be studied. We will observe that, for the Kurdish community, a strong connection to the past is enacted first through its desire to preserve and replicate its former way of life and, second, by its will to maintain strong links with its region of origin. These two phenomena illustrate the Kurds’ difficulty with contemplating, without constraint, integration in France, and with handling the past objectively.
On the one hand, in the case of forced migration, social ties with the region of origin are presevered, but their preservation is seen as determinant. Most of the Kurds interrogated on this topic sustain strong links with their region of origin. 45% call their extended family and friends in Kurdish regions more than once a week, 24% several times a month, and 18% only call several times a year. 42% watch the Kurdish channel[16] (Roj Tv), and a large majority listen to Kurdish music.
On the other hand, for a migrant, preserving his identity is a way to find status and to give meaning to his experience of exile. Didier Lapeyronnie asserts that «for migrants, identity is an intermediary zone, some kind of «parallel society» (sous-société in french) in which the migrant can find the support and resources necessary to confront the social and cultural shock of the host society and exile[17].» This idea of identity as a protective nest puts a great and new pressure on identity. The first consequence of this strain is that immigrated Kurds are trying to capture their past by placing it at the central core of their present. A similar phenomenon has been described in Srdja Pavlovic’s work. He declares “Frightened by the power of silence and the vastness of the Canadian space, I am trying to fill it up with names and voices from my past, and anchor myself within it, as if subconsciously trying to define my own thoughts and ideas about myself.” More than in situ, in immigration memory is used to “fill up” the void created by departure.
The Kurds have entirely recreated their villages and, in French suburbs, it is not uncommon to witness the reunion of an entire Kurdish village in the same neighbourhood, or even in the same building. They provide each other – and especially asylum seekers – with administrative help, jobs, and places to live, recreating a “Kurdish way of life” similar to the one left behind. The Kurds have their own associations in towns where their population is significant. They have their own football teams, language teachers, song and dance classes, etc. Their houses are imitations of Kurdish ones.
Moreover, one can observe the celebration of Kurdish identity during festivals. In Europe, huge gatherings are organised, usually in Germany. For example, the First International Festival of Kurdish Culture took place in Cologne in 1992, and gathered 100 000 Kurdes. The 11,th in Gelsrkirchen-Essen, reported the same number of participants[18]. Every single Kurd interviewed declared his/her participation in the Newroz (Kurdish New Year). These manifestations have two main goals: showing the world the existence of a still denied Kurdish nation, and sharing a sense of belonging. They represent a way to relate to the collective memory of the group, and to have the feeling that they have not really left their homeland.
The immigrant Kurds appear insular, and some Kurds explained that their neighbourhood in France is more Kurdish than those in Turkey. “The community there (in Kurdish areas of Turkey) is more modern than here (in France). Here they are more traditionalists, more extreme (…)[19]” reports a young Kurdish migrant. Another one explains that her cousins from Turkey have their own swimming pool, when she is not allowed to go the public swimming pool in France, for fear of being seen in a swimsuit. Young girls are sometimes forbidden to go to school; marriages are still taking place within the community; clothes and values are strictly controlled.
Protecting the memory of the land left behind is more important than integration into the host country, or the comfort and physical security it provides. These perceptions are hard to change, since predominant figures within the community are pulling the entire community backwards, afraid that immigration will mean a loss of their traditional values and prevent their return. Every reference to the difficulty of war and the harshness of exile strengthens feelings of belonging to the group. As a consequence, attempting to come to terms with the past could be pernicious. Old traditions and values are kept, while, in the country of origin, modernisation is taking place. As such, the Kurds who have immigrated seem to be stuck in time, trapped in a memory ghetto, while their counterparts in Turkey are trying to adapt to modernity. A crystallised memory of the native region is constructed, while, in Turkey, relationships with the past evolve, and modernisation is taking place. This is another example of the principal paradox of memory: the thirst for a fixed memory coexists with movement as the condition of memory, as Julia Creet asserts.
Andreas Kitzmann also detects this divergence between the evolution of memory in place and abroad. His paper suggests the fact that the Canadian Vertreibenen (the Germans expelled from eastern and southern Europe after WWII) did not experience the passionate and politicised debate on accountability and guilt taking place in Germany and Europe. He explains that they “confront the past in a manner that is significantly different from Germans living in Germany.”
Therefore, it is possible to assert that, for the same community, there are three different processes of memory: one for the community still living in the region of origin, one for the community in immigration, and one that tries to conciliate between the two, usually official memory, used in diplomatic relations or during relations with the host state.
However, these differences are not acknowledged, and sometimes even denied. Benedict Anderson explains immigrants’ strong investment in identity through their new status in exile, and through the fact that their access to modernity gives them the opportunity to play a significant role in their homelands. He mentions that immigrants are then able “to play, on the other side of the planet, national hero[20].” On the other hand, Gabriel Sheffer contradicts the belief that, thanks to political, cultural and economical tolerance from host countries, Diasporas will disappear. He observes that some ethnic groups, who were indeed losing their identities, are going through an ethnic revival[21]. Identity in immigration is not disappearing; on the contrary, a stronger desire to protect it can be seen.
In fact, investigating this manifold phenomenon cannot be restricted to the examination of a community’s social characteristics, and must be linked to a study of its perception of the past. According to our analysis, memory’s evolution in immigration must be addressed in order to comprehend what Benedict Anderson calls “long-distanced nationalism”. It is necessary to scrutinise the evolution of immigrants’ memory since, in immigration, fantasies about the country of origin are developed with greater ease (and not only because of a geographical distance), and these fantasies might influence the country left behind, especially when political reasons explain the departure. Gabriel Sheffer states: “because of their organisation and determination, ethnic diasporas can become, in some small states, a significant political factor both domestically and in the foreign affairs of their host country[22].” Examples of this phenomenon are multiple, starting with the Irish conflict or the war in the Balkans, where Diasporas played a significant role in the politics of their host state[23]. This is why it is essential to trace the interconnected strands of memory that may influence their position.
As Abdelmalek Sayad asserts, to know immigrants one should examine emigrants[24]. For him, it is essential to take into account the immigrant’s background in order to grasp their current position in the host society. This requires analysing their social and economic status in their country of origin and the reasons for their departure. To take this thought a step further, the question should not be restricted to who an immigrant was socially and economically, but must also include his perception of the past at the time of his departure as well as after his installation in France. In fact, departure means losing land, family, friends, and traditions. The only luggage taken is memories. Therefore, to extend A. Sayad’s remark, it is possible to assert that, to understand immigrants, one should observe their memory. Memory links the emigrant to the immigrant.
However, research and politics concerning migration are usually based on the assumption that immigrants’ history starts with their arrival in the host country. This position ignores any analysis of the impact of memory on an immigrant’s social status, his desire to integrate, and his opinion on politics in either country. It prevents any full understanding of the influence immigrants might have, or want to have, on the politics of their homeland and on their position and integration in their host state.