{"id":9571,"date":"2024-07-07T17:34:01","date_gmt":"2024-07-07T21:34:01","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/nykcc.org\/?p=9571"},"modified":"2024-07-07T17:45:51","modified_gmt":"2024-07-07T21:45:51","slug":"my-fathers-rifle-by-hiner-saleem","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/nykcc.org\/oldsite\/my-fathers-rifle-by-hiner-saleem\/","title":{"rendered":"“My Father’s Rifle” by Hiner Saleem"},"content":{"rendered":"\t\t
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\"My Father's Rifle\" by Hiner Saleem<\/h1>\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t
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\"MyHiner Saleem, My Father\u2019s Rifle: A Childhood in Kurdistan.<\/em> Translated by Catherine Temerson. New York: Farrar, Straus & Giroux, 2004. Originally published in French as Le Fusil de mon p\u00e8re<\/em>.<\/strong><\/p>

Hiner Saleem was born in Aqra, in Iraqi Kurdistan in 1964. His counterpart in this fictionalized autobiography, Azad, He comes of age during the Kurdish struggle for independence led by Mustafa Barzani. His family is political\u2014Azad\u2019s father and older brother support Barzani. In 1974 Kurds are promised autonomy, and thinking the Americans are with them, they revolt. Azad\u2019s family goes to the mountains to fight with Kurdish troops, But the revolt collapses in betrayal. The family spends years in a refugee camp in Iran, then return to Iraq, where they face persecution by Saddam Hussein\u2019s Baath regime. Azad\u2014the author\u2014leaves Iraqi Kurdistan.<\/p>

Azad\u2019s story reverberates with heartrending emotion and chilling loss. \u201cThe author is very frank,\u201d our moderator Yuksel remarked to the Book club. \u201cA German philosopher, Fichte, said that when you write autobiography, there are things you don\u2019t want people to know, and that you don\u2019t want your family to know, and things even you don\u2019t want to know.\u201d<\/p>

Today the author, Hiner Saleem, lives in France, where he is a film director. In some ways the novel reads like a filmscript, in scenes and vignettes. \u00a0For several Book Club members, the novel called up strong memories of their families\u2019 stories in the 1970s and after.<\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t

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Language<\/strong><\/p>

Azad grows up in Iraqi Kurdistan. As a boy he speaks Kurdish. But he flunks out of school because he didn\u2019t know the language of instruction. It\u2019s Arabic. They didn\u2019t give a break to the Kurdish boy.<\/p>

I grew up in South Kurdistan too but much later than the author. Iraq\u2019s national language is Arabic, and learning it is part of the standard curriculum. Kurdish people grow up speaking Kurdish, but they have to start learning Arabic by around second grade. By the time someone\u2019s in high school, if they stay in school that long, they\u2019re fluent.<\/p>

Arabization got even stronger under Saddam Hussein. But in the decades since then, it\u2019s changed. Now young people are learning English more than Arabic in schools. There are lots of American universities around.\u00a0 The next generation will be more fluent in English than in Arabic.<\/p>

The blond women<\/strong><\/p>

Growing up, Azad notices several women who are blond. He doesn\u2019t understand their coloring. He is told that after the collapse of the 1946 Kurdish republic in Iran, Kurds who participated had to leave. Barzani and some 500 others went to the USSR and stayed there until the 1959 revolution in Iraq. Then they came back to Kurdistan. Young men who had married Russian women brought them back to Iraqi Kurdistan with them.<\/p>

Communist barber<\/strong><\/p>

I was struck by the Communist barber. Azad asks the barber\u2019s son why cooperate with Saddam to bomb Kurdish villages.\u00a0<\/p>

Back in the 1970s most of the Kurdish left was pro-Soviet, blindly supporting the Soviet regime. It was a dark time.\u00a0 And Iraqi\u2019s Communist Party was strongly for the Kurds. The leader of Iraqi Communist Party was even Kurdish.<\/p>

But when Saddam came to power, it supported the Iraqi government, because Saddam collaborated with the USSR. For example, the Soviets trained the Iraqi Air Force. \u00a0Then by the end of 1970s, Saddam persecuted Communist Party members.<\/p>

Fear and blindness<\/strong><\/p>

We hear about a man who frequently traveled to Mosul. His relatives thought he was a collaborator. A relative killed him for it. But it turns out he had a mistress in Mosul.<\/p>

In their passion, combined with ignorance, his family was blinded. Fear was rampant\u2014it was a tense time. People had to look over their shoulders. People were so mistrustful of each other that even family members killed each other. Blindness and fear drove people to do terrible things.<\/p>

That\u2019s what Saddam did too\u2014when he suspected there was a mole, he didn\u2019t bother to investigate, he just killed them all. Those around them must be moles, too, and their families. If then president wasn\u2019t safe from moles, how could anyone else be?\u00a0 Fear infiltrated every aspect of people\u2019s lives. In a way, we reflected what was happening with the government.\u00a0 For us too, a suspicion was a conviction.\u00a0<\/p>

To collaborate or not<\/strong><\/p>

\u00a0<\/strong>A friend of Azad joins the Baath Party to get into music school, which he otherwise couldn\u2019t do. But did he have to do that?\u00a0 You can give up and submit and not go to art school, or you miss an opportunity.<\/p>

Those who left<\/strong><\/p>

My Iraqi Kurdish family were desperate to leave that we left by any means possible. They thought Saddam would kill us, kill hundreds and thousands of people in an instant. So people fled. There was a huge emigration out of the country, to Jordan and to Europe. They were political asylees.<\/p>

We were terrified. We\u2019d lost our autonomy. People whose families were somehow connected with government fled. My family fled. We thought it would be better in Iran.<\/p>

Then we returned to Iraq, and it still wasn\u2019t what we thought.<\/p>

Those who returned<\/strong><\/p>

Azad\u2019s family decides to come back across the border, from Iran to Iraq. Iraqi soldiers pretend to welcome them, but once they\u2019re out of sight of others, they strip them, humiliate them, search them while naked.<\/p>

It indicates how the Baath Party operated. It was about dehumanizing people, letting them know they are second class citizens.<\/p>

People who came back were labeled traitors for leaving. The regime told them they weren\u2019t good enough and labeled you because you went away. The memory of that labeling runs very deep in Iraqi Kurds. It\u2019s a generational trauma for those who experienced it, even those who weren\u2019t born yet. We felt we didn\u2019t belong anywhere. But we were considered traitors because we didn\u2019t stay.<\/p>

My family couldn\u2019t get their old jobs back, as teachers or architects. They had to have new identities, and their qualifications didn\u2019t matter. They had to start over. In terms of class, we went down a lot of notches. It was a big change in our livelihood.<\/p>

Comparison with Turkey?<\/strong><\/p>

\u00a0<\/strong>In North (Turkish) Kurdistan, some Kurdish people left for Europe. Others spent time in prison. People who stayed could be critical of people who left.\u00a0 I was born there. When I go back home, I sometimes have to restrain myself when I meet people have spent time in prison. I can\u2019t really be critical because they have a different view. \u201cYou were in Europe, you didn\u2019t go through that,\u201d is their outlook.<\/p>

Regret<\/strong><\/p>

A lot of people who came back regretted coming back–they wished they had just gone on to Europe and never come back. We all had a feeling of defeat, and it wasn\u2019t just political\u2014it was an emotional defeat too. it was a dark time for people who came back. I don\u2019t know much about the divide between those who stayed and left, but a lot of those who came back regretted it.<\/p>

Hope and disappointment<\/strong><\/p>

Azad\u2019s family has a feeling of eternal hope. They were \u201cconvinced that after one more year of struggle and sacrifice, we would obtain independence \u2026 One more year, and Kurdistan would be ours.\u201d During the revolt, whole families went to join the fighters. Not just individuals, but whole families.<\/p>

But the revolt was crushed. Kurdish radio talked about \u201cthe beauty of our mountains.\u201d But Azad thought, I was no longer a kid. I don\u2019t believe in beautiful mountains anymore. He was not nostalgic. He was very realistic.<\/p>

Gromyko and Kissinger<\/strong><\/p>

In 1974 Kurds didn\u2019t know that Iran and Iraq had reached an agreement. Then \u201cword went out that Iraq and Iran were about to conclude a treaty at our expense, with Kissinger\u2019s consent \u2026 Kissinger abandoned us to our fate.\u201d\u00a0 (p. 49)<\/p>

\u201cHow could a. people so na\u00efve ever liberate themselves in the days of Henry Kissinger and Andrei Gromyko, the most cynical politicians of the century?\u201d (p. 79)<\/p>

Yes, So many revolts in Iraqi Kurdish history, and they all collapsed without resulting in any freedom. Every time, instead of liberation, we get a disaster and collapse. How could we liberate themselves in those circumstances, with Gromyko around, an associate of Molotov? How na\u00efve could we have been?<\/p>

Yet Azad\u2019s na\u00efvete was emblematic of his father and his family, and most Kurds who really thought we would get liberation.<\/p>

Turkey<\/strong><\/p>

When I was growing up in Turkish Kurdistan, these movements were everywhere. There was organizing in every aspect of life. We thought we were going to have socialism in the mountains of Kurdistan. With help from USSR, we would have a free Kurdistan. We thought, once we start, the whole world will know about us and help us. That glorious slogan still reverberates in my mind. But considering world politics, how childish. how idiotic. We knew nothing about relations between states. You have to be off the island to see the island.<\/p>

Halabja<\/strong><\/p>

When Halabja happened, the UN Security Council did nothing. Not even the socialist states protested. Cuba and the USSR supported Saddam. All that Marxist pro-Soviet stuff vanished. We had to be realistic.<\/p>

A repeating cycle<\/strong><\/p>

The betrayal is not unique of us, because we\u2019re used to it. Every few decades we get some renewed hope, new energy. But now, at least for Iraqi Kurds, that hope is dead. I don\u2019t find that people have that same energy or dreams of an independent Kurdistan anymore. It\u2019s not as vibrant or strong as it was in previous generations.<\/p>

That\u2019s the pattern. We\u2019re betrayed, so we flee, looking for solace elsewhere. But then we get betrayed there too, we have to come back from where we estarted, but thre we\u2019re punished or coming back. Pattern repeats. We have no home\/<\/p>

Continuing effects<\/strong><\/p>

My family lived in Iraqi Kurdistan, in a later time. We didn\u2019t go through the Baath regime, but it had \u00a0effects over generations. Corruption in the Kurdish regional government affects people there on a personal level. Those who work for government have good jobs. But teachers aren\u2019t being paid. The economy is not great. People don\u2019t think they\u2019ll ever have any opportunity there. \u00a0Anyone who continues their education tries to go elsewhere, to Europe or the US. They don\u2019t see a future for themselves in Iraq.<\/p>

The author<\/strong><\/p>

Hiner Saleem left Iraq at the age of 17, attended university in Italy, and later moved to France. After the 1991 Gulf War, he returned to Iraq to film living conditions in Kurdistan. That undercover footage was shown at the 1992 Venice Film Festival and brought him international attention. His debut feature was Kebab Connection<\/em>(1998). Since then he wrote and directed Beyond Our Dreams<\/em> (1999) and Vodka Lemon<\/em> (2003), set in post-Soviet Armenia, which was awarded Best Film at the Venice Film Festival in 2005. His feature Kilom\u00e8tre Z\u00e9ro<\/em>(2004), set in Iraqi Kurdistan during the 1988 Iran-Iraq War, was an official selection at the Cannes Film Festival. It was followed by the release of Dol ou la Vall\u00e9e des Tambours<\/em> (Beneath the Rooftops of Paris) (2007) and If You Die, I\u2019ll Kill You<\/em> (2011). My Sweet Pepper Land<\/em> (2013) has won numerous prizes.<\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

“My Father’s Rifle” by Hiner Saleem Hiner Saleem, My Father\u2019s Rifle: A Childhood in Kurdistan. Translated by Catherine Temerson. New York: Farrar, Straus & Giroux, 2004. Originally published in French as Le Fusil de mon p\u00e8re. Hiner Saleem was born in Aqra, in Iraqi Kurdistan in 1964. His counterpart in this fictionalized autobiography, Azad, He […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":9572,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"give_campaign_id":0,"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[97,62],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-9571","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-book-club","category-literature"],"aioseo_notices":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/nykcc.org\/oldsite\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/9571","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/nykcc.org\/oldsite\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/nykcc.org\/oldsite\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/nykcc.org\/oldsite\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/nykcc.org\/oldsite\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=9571"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/nykcc.org\/oldsite\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/9571\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":9580,"href":"https:\/\/nykcc.org\/oldsite\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/9571\/revisions\/9580"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/nykcc.org\/oldsite\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/9572"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/nykcc.org\/oldsite\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=9571"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/nykcc.org\/oldsite\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=9571"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/nykcc.org\/oldsite\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=9571"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}