Showing posts with label Kurds. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Kurds. Show all posts

Sunday, November 17, 2013

More on Saâda Bonaire's "Bedouin funk archive" & their "oriental disco-funk tunes"


"Bedouin funk archive" and "Oriental disco-funk tunes" -- this is how Dazed Digital describes the recent eponymous release of this '80s project's canned recordings. They also describe it thus: "Combining the occasionally stony, stark minimalism of European electronics with the groove-laden funk of Turkish and Kurdish folk."

Dazed Digital has interviewed DJ Ralph “von” Richtoven and singers Stephanie Lange (but not singer Claudia Hossfeld) on the occasion of the release. What I found of interest was how they describe the recordings "Eastern" feel. Excerpts follow:

von Richtoven: The band? Well there was no real band. It was a lot of friends from the music scene. I also gathered some traditional Kurdish folk musicians from the local Turkish communist party to play some more Eastern instruments on the tracks. I didn't really want a band – Saâda Bonaire was a pop-art project...

We saw the strong influence that Afro-Cuban sounds had on American music. We could hear the influence that Caribbean and Indian immigrants had on British music in the 80s. In France, they had the Rai music from the Maghreb and a lot of musicians from West Africa. In Germany, we only had Turkish immigrants... millions of them. In the 1970s I studied social work. By the 1980s, I was working for the German government's immigration department. I was responsible for many immigrant social clubs in Bremen. I was also collecting music tapes from Turkey and Egypt since 1975. In theory it was obvious what we had to do: fusion. In reality it was very difficult and almost impossible.

So there you have it: Cool German artists want to emulate the hip reggae and bhangra sounds coming out of England and the "rai" and West African influence on French music. [As an aside, I'm sure this an anachronism, as I seriously doubt that pop rai was much evidence in Germany as early as 1982.] But they "only" had Turks around...who happened to be Kurds who belonged to the Turkish Communist Party?

Don't you wish music journalists asked more questions?

But maybe not, if they don't know the difference between Bedouin and Turks...

Sunday, October 27, 2013

Bahram Hajou's kufiya art

I know very little about Syrian-Kurdish neo-expressionist painter Bahram Hajou, but I like this painting, called "Menschen," featuring kufiyas.


Here's Bahram's website. And if you read German (he is based in Münster), check this out.

Sunday, January 13, 2013

sins of style: kufiya no good because Justin Bieber wears one?


 I found this by doing a search for "keffiyeh" on Pinterest. I found a lot of excellent stuff which I will post in future. At first I thought this kufiya statement might be kinda racist but it turns out all the models for the 25 "sins of style," a website based in the UK, are people of colors. I guess you could read this statement as: if Bieber wears one, people of color shouldn't.

What I want to know is, where is the photo of Bieber in a kufiya?

My position on this blog has always been, why let a fact that Bieber is wearing one (if he is) bother you?

And if this model were wearing a kufiya over a black leather jacket instead of a t-shirt (bleh!), wouldn't it look way cooler?

And couldn't we also call this a Kurdish style scarf?

Saturday, December 08, 2012

Apache (Apaçi) Kurdish Turkish dance. Or is it?

Young Turkish Kurds (reportedly from Ağrı, near the border with Iran) doing 'Apache (apaçi) dancing' (a Turkish subcultural dance style) to a song by the Mehmet Ali Arslan Grup. Well, I assume they are Kurds. (Turks and Azeris also live in Ağrı.)



A comment on a blog that discusses "Apache dancing" tries to explain:

Actually "apaçi" is a trending word in Turkish slang. It is used when describing uneducated and wannabe young people that has immigrant parents and live in suburbs of big cities like Istanbul, Ankara or Izmir. These young people can never completely integrate themselves to the city life because of their origins and that's why they have a "mutant" style, a bit from city life and a bit from their conservative family life.

"Apaçi dance" term came up from a dance style that is performed by these apaçi people when they're in a clubs :)


It's seems then that apaçi is a pejorative term used to describe young Kurds in Turkey. A term of denigration that, perhaps, young Kurds have embraced and attempted to detourn?

A friend who is in Alanya, Turkey, which is far from Turkey's eastern border but has lots of workers from the east, says "the young men with those kinds of hairstyles (standing up in the middle, lots of gel, long on the sides and back, etc) call their style 'apache'."

Meanwhile, as far as I can determine, Mehmet Ali Arslan is from Northeastern Turkey (near Ardahan) and the music may have Georgian, Azeri and Iraqi (Kurdish) influences. (I used Google translate to try to make sense of this.)  

Interestingly, the dance performed above is very similar to the dance performed in the video below. This is from Iranian Kurdistan. Fatima Al Qadiri has written about it here. Not very informatively, as she doesn't even mention that the singer, Mehdi Alizadeh, is from Iran. He is really great, no? 



So maybe (as Sherifa has noted in a bit of conversation about this on FB), there isn't any specific "Apache" dance tradition, so much as it is a matter of apaçi-s who are doing it.

Here's another Mehdi Alizadeh vid.




Who knows, maybe this is more like what Apaçi dance is supposed to be:


Friday, June 17, 2011

Kurdish Kufiyas/Puşis

(Photo by Jodi Hilton for The New York Times. Caption: "Kurdish youth commemorated the 1977 May Day massacre last month during a march to Taksim Square in Istanbul")

This photo appeared in a recent article in the New York Times about the Kurdish struggle in Turkey for cultural autonomy, and particularly in the field of music.

I found the article quite enlightening, but I was, of course, particularly struck by the photo, which features Kurds wearing very stylish kufiyas. These are known in Kurdish as puşis. The puşi is traditional wear for men in Kurdistan, and is often taken as an insignia of Kurdish identity. In my investigation of kufiyas, I've not yet devoted much time to the Kurdish angle.

An article in the Turkish newspaper Hurriyet states that kufiyas/puşis have also become trendy in Istanbul, and that the origin of the trend is via the West. One vendor claims that it was due to the fact that Angelina Jolie was spotted wearing one. (I've not seen a photo of this. But I will look.) The kufiyas, in multiple colors, are made in Syria, the article claims.

But apparently, based on the evidence in this photo, it's not simply about trendiness. These Kurds are trendy, yes, but they are also political activists.

To be continued.

Wednesday, July 04, 2007

Hiltermann on Halabja


Announcing a new, very important book from Joost Hiltermann: A Poisonous Affair: America, Iraq, and the Gassing of Halabja (Cambridge University Press), now available.

Writes Joost, "The book highlights US policy with respect to Iraq's use of chemical weapons during the Iran-Iraq war, from the first mustard gas attack in 1983 to the massive gassing of Iranian troops with mustard and nerve agents in the Tawakkulna 'ala Allah offensives and of Kurdish civilians and peshmergas in the Anfal counterinsurgency campaign, both in 1988. It also highights the events in Halabja: what happened there on March 16, 1988, and what happened in Washington afterwards."

He will soon be on a promotional tour: in Boston, July 8-9; New York, July 10-12; Washington, DC, July 13-19); in London, the first week of October.

For an introduction to the subjects treated in the book, here's an op-ed Joost recently published:

Two decades later, partial justice for the Kurds

By Joost R. Hiltermann | The Boston Globe, June 29, 2007

CHEMICAL ALI has been condemned to die and Kurds rejoice. More than anyone, perhaps even Saddam Hussein, Ali Hassan al-Majid personifies the horrors visited on the Kurds two decades ago. As overlord of the North, he sent his minions to suppress the Kurds' growing rebellion against his boss's tyrannical rule. Now his power has come crashing down, and this man without morals was reduced to stammering "Thank God" when the verdict was read.

Chemical Ali's reign lasted two years, long enough to crush the Kurdish revolt, level the countryside, and seek to prevent a viable Kurdish national movement from ever arising again. Appointed by Hussein, his cousin, in March 1987, Chemical Ali, who headed Iraq's security police, the Amn, wasted no time in sending a message to the Kurds that their time was up. "Jalal Talabani asked me to open a special communications channel with him," he said later in a chilling speech to Baath party faithful, referring to the leader of the Patriotic Union of Kurdistan, who today, in vindication of his long struggle, is president of Iraq. "That evening I went to Suleimaniya and hit them with special ammunition."

"Special ammunition" was the regime's euphemism for poison gas. In 1987, chemical attacks on guerrilla strongholds multiplied, extending to villages and, in a horrifying climax, an entire town: Halabja, in March 1988. Thousands died in Halabja, and the overpowering fear this attack instilled ensured that when Chemical Ali launched his counterinsurgency campaign, called Anfal, a few days later he caused mass panic by deploying gas at the outset of each of the operation's eight stages.

Terrified villagers ran straight into the Iraqi military's arms, who handed them over to the Amn. They in turn hauled tens of thousands of men, women, and children to areas far from Kurdistan, where execution squads completed the job. The affair was over in six months. Some 70,000 to 80,000 (the numbers are uncertain and disputed) never returned home.

Much of this was known to the Reagan administration, according to government documents and interviews with some of the principals. But knowledge is only half of it. Spooked by the specter of an Islamic revolution radiating throughout the Gulf from Khomeini's Iran, the administration threw its weight behind Hussein's unsavory regime in its eight-year war with Iran, providing it with millions of dollars in credit guarantees as well as diplomatic cover, satellite intelligence, and, indirectly, weapons.

US intelligence was fully aware of Iraq's chemical weapons use, but the administration didn't do anything about it. When it did go so far as to condemn it, in 1984, it did so with a wink and a nod, sending Donald Rumsfeld as envoy to Baghdad to appease the Iraqis by offering to restore diplomatic relations.

Encouraged by Washington's tolerance, the regime escalated its use of poison gas, chemically bombing Iranian soldiers and Kurdish civilians alike. To preempt rebuke, Hussein trotted out Iraqi chemical warfare casualties, blaming their injuries on Iran. Although there was little evidence of Iranian chemical weapons use and plenty of evidence of accidental blowback on Iraq's own troops, many observers soon accepted the line that Iran and Iraq were gassing each other. In Halabja, this claim was extended to argue that both countries shared responsibility for the atrocity; both were condemned by the UN Security Council. Using this critical breathing space, the regime launched the Anfal campaign on the heels of the attack, using its demonstration effect to flush villagers from their homes -- and to kill them.

The Anfal trial has now ended and although Chemical Ali's sentence will be reviewed on appeal, he is likely to follow his cousin in death by hanging. This means that neither man will be present at the Halabja trial later this year. This is a pity, as their absence will reduce the trial's impact and may deprive the Kurds of information that could help them understand the circumstances that prompted the regime to order the devastating attack.

Absent from the courtroom also, but casting an enormous shadow on the proceedings nonetheless, will be the Reagan administration that condoned if not encouraged its proxy's chemical weapons use and, when Hussein's behavior proved too embarrassing, in Halabja, did its best to defuse the fallout through cover-up and deceit.

The Kurds may be rejoicing, but justice has not been done.

(For more, see his article for Middle East Report Online, "Iran’s Nuclear Posture and the Scars of War.")

Joost is also the author of Behind the Intifada, an account of the Palestinian trade union's and women's organizations that were key components of the grass-roots based intifada. He and I did fieldwork in Palestine at the same time--1984-85. He is now the Deputy Program Director, Middle East and North Africa, for the International Crisis Group.