//essays//
Fall 2017
Kurdistan "Unhollywoodized"
Morty Zadik
New York’s Museum of Jewish Heritage was under threat from ISIS this fall. Its crime? Elevating the case for Kurdish independence by screening a new documentary by Jewish-French intellectual, Bernard-Henri Lévy. Peshmerga, filmed over six months on the Iraqi frontier, leads the audience on a remarkable journey into remote Yazidi villages, through ancient Christian monasteries, and across vast swaths of Kurdish battleground. Lévy is a masterful storyteller and his film is a stirring testament to Kurdish fortitude. Though his work on their behalf pulls at the heartstrings, it remains unconvincing on strategic and policy matters.
Thanking the museum for not giving in to “pressures,” Lévy preceded the film by declaring the event an act of solidarity with the Kurds—an “act of brotherhood” that showed the world as it is—“unhollywoodized.”
The world Lévy captures is unkind to the Kurds. A distinct ethnic group with a unique language and culture, the Kurds have been violently persecuted for generations. Under Saddam Hussein, they were victims of chemical weapons, executions, and death camps. In what many designate as a genocide, at least 100,000 Kurds were killed in Saddam’s Anfal campaign in the late 1980s.
Yet Lévy does not tell a story of weakness. His movie follows courageous Peshmerga fighters and Kurdish leaders in their defense against the onslaught of ISIS. In their fight to protect democracy and security in the rest of the world, Lévy characterizes the Kurds as the “embodiment of enlightened Islam.” When the rest of the world was terrified of ISIS and frantically searching for a military strategy, the Kurds were the only ones to hold the line, and eventually go on offense.
The bravery on screen pervaded the assembly hall, moving one audience member to tears and solace on her son’s shoulder. It was easy to see why the film would elicit such a response, especially in a room composed mostly of Jews. In the face of ISIS’s barbarism, resilient Kurdish men and women took up arms to defend their people and their homeland. Lévy depicts their yearning not just for physical safety, but for the sovereignty and the security that comes with statehood— a resonant sense of desperation for anyone familiar with the Jewish longing and struggle for a country.
With ISIS rapidly on the decline, largely due to the Kurdish offensive, President Massoud Barzani called for a September 25 referendum to gauge Kurdish public opinion on independence, not to unilaterally declare independence. Against vehement opposition from Iraq, which declared the referendum unconstitutional, 92% opted for independence.
Still, the Kurds needed international support for their movement. Lévy had come to deliver it. Watch their story, he asked. See their suffering. They have paid for their independence in blood. Lévy asks Jews where else the birthplace and legacy of an Israeli minister (in Kurdistan’s case, Moshe Dayan) is so well regarded and honored; or where else in the Muslim world there is a Ministry of Religious Affairs that hopes for the return of Jews to their country. Dear Americans, Lévy admonishes, stay faithful to your allies. To anyone in the audience who has the ear of the president, we are begging for your help.
Yet, the U.S. government has staunchly opposed the Kurdish bid for independence. The hope and promise of an independent Kurdistan is diminishing by the day. Within a month of the referendum, Iraqi forces seized a fifth of the country’s constitutionally autonomous Kurdish Region and established control over all of Kirkuk, the oil-rich city that Kurdish nationalists hoped would contribute to the financial power of a future state.
Why has the U.S. opposed an independent Kurdistan? According to US Secretary of State Rex Tillerson, the U.S. is concerned about the destabilization it might bring to the surrounding region, which in turn might detract from the fight against ISIS. Lévy and others have countered that Iraq has already been ravaged by civil war for more than a decade and the Kurdish area in the north has been the only consistently stable region. It also has been the greatest shield to ISIS’s expansion. They argue that the Kurds would only have more incentive to protect their territory from ISIS if they were independent.
Lévy does not sufficiently address the other, broader, geopolitical issues at play. The U.S. wants to increase the popularity of the Iraqi Prime Minister, Haider al-Abadi, before Iraq’s spring 2018 elections. Kurdish secession would be a significant blow to his reelection aspirations and by extension American influence in Iraq. If Abadi loses, the U.S. risks losing the influence over Iraqi politics it has held since toppling Saddam in 2003. Tillerson and the administration’s stance might look unfair to America’s Kurdish allies, but their incentive to maintain American interests in Iraq is understandable from a strategic perspective.
In light of Lévy’s inability to garner political support, one can question whether the movie was a success. As much as Lévy’s moral arguments resonate, his political solutions are unsatisfying. The movie inspires respect for Kurdish bravery, but it would not change the minds of policy-makers tasked with American national security and diplomacy. Without advancing a viable path to support both the Kurds and American regional interests, Lévy cannot mobilize his audience.
If there is a silver lining, it is that the Kurds, a strong and resilient people, will guard their dream of a sovereign homeland for future generations. This time though, the Kurds gambled against greater powers and lost. For a people with such a powerful story, one told so well by Lévy, their mistake has been painful to witness.
The dream of an independent Kurdistan in the near future is fading. Lévy has convinced the audience that this is a tragedy. He has not shown, however, that there is a better solution.
Thanking the museum for not giving in to “pressures,” Lévy preceded the film by declaring the event an act of solidarity with the Kurds—an “act of brotherhood” that showed the world as it is—“unhollywoodized.”
The world Lévy captures is unkind to the Kurds. A distinct ethnic group with a unique language and culture, the Kurds have been violently persecuted for generations. Under Saddam Hussein, they were victims of chemical weapons, executions, and death camps. In what many designate as a genocide, at least 100,000 Kurds were killed in Saddam’s Anfal campaign in the late 1980s.
Yet Lévy does not tell a story of weakness. His movie follows courageous Peshmerga fighters and Kurdish leaders in their defense against the onslaught of ISIS. In their fight to protect democracy and security in the rest of the world, Lévy characterizes the Kurds as the “embodiment of enlightened Islam.” When the rest of the world was terrified of ISIS and frantically searching for a military strategy, the Kurds were the only ones to hold the line, and eventually go on offense.
The bravery on screen pervaded the assembly hall, moving one audience member to tears and solace on her son’s shoulder. It was easy to see why the film would elicit such a response, especially in a room composed mostly of Jews. In the face of ISIS’s barbarism, resilient Kurdish men and women took up arms to defend their people and their homeland. Lévy depicts their yearning not just for physical safety, but for the sovereignty and the security that comes with statehood— a resonant sense of desperation for anyone familiar with the Jewish longing and struggle for a country.
With ISIS rapidly on the decline, largely due to the Kurdish offensive, President Massoud Barzani called for a September 25 referendum to gauge Kurdish public opinion on independence, not to unilaterally declare independence. Against vehement opposition from Iraq, which declared the referendum unconstitutional, 92% opted for independence.
Still, the Kurds needed international support for their movement. Lévy had come to deliver it. Watch their story, he asked. See their suffering. They have paid for their independence in blood. Lévy asks Jews where else the birthplace and legacy of an Israeli minister (in Kurdistan’s case, Moshe Dayan) is so well regarded and honored; or where else in the Muslim world there is a Ministry of Religious Affairs that hopes for the return of Jews to their country. Dear Americans, Lévy admonishes, stay faithful to your allies. To anyone in the audience who has the ear of the president, we are begging for your help.
Yet, the U.S. government has staunchly opposed the Kurdish bid for independence. The hope and promise of an independent Kurdistan is diminishing by the day. Within a month of the referendum, Iraqi forces seized a fifth of the country’s constitutionally autonomous Kurdish Region and established control over all of Kirkuk, the oil-rich city that Kurdish nationalists hoped would contribute to the financial power of a future state.
Why has the U.S. opposed an independent Kurdistan? According to US Secretary of State Rex Tillerson, the U.S. is concerned about the destabilization it might bring to the surrounding region, which in turn might detract from the fight against ISIS. Lévy and others have countered that Iraq has already been ravaged by civil war for more than a decade and the Kurdish area in the north has been the only consistently stable region. It also has been the greatest shield to ISIS’s expansion. They argue that the Kurds would only have more incentive to protect their territory from ISIS if they were independent.
Lévy does not sufficiently address the other, broader, geopolitical issues at play. The U.S. wants to increase the popularity of the Iraqi Prime Minister, Haider al-Abadi, before Iraq’s spring 2018 elections. Kurdish secession would be a significant blow to his reelection aspirations and by extension American influence in Iraq. If Abadi loses, the U.S. risks losing the influence over Iraqi politics it has held since toppling Saddam in 2003. Tillerson and the administration’s stance might look unfair to America’s Kurdish allies, but their incentive to maintain American interests in Iraq is understandable from a strategic perspective.
In light of Lévy’s inability to garner political support, one can question whether the movie was a success. As much as Lévy’s moral arguments resonate, his political solutions are unsatisfying. The movie inspires respect for Kurdish bravery, but it would not change the minds of policy-makers tasked with American national security and diplomacy. Without advancing a viable path to support both the Kurds and American regional interests, Lévy cannot mobilize his audience.
If there is a silver lining, it is that the Kurds, a strong and resilient people, will guard their dream of a sovereign homeland for future generations. This time though, the Kurds gambled against greater powers and lost. For a people with such a powerful story, one told so well by Lévy, their mistake has been painful to witness.
The dream of an independent Kurdistan in the near future is fading. Lévy has convinced the audience that this is a tragedy. He has not shown, however, that there is a better solution.
//Morty Zadik is a sophomore in the School of General Studies and List College. He can be reached at mz2617@columbia.edu.