By Kajal Hajiabbasi — political activist and head of the Women of Kurdistan Organisation
Every Kurdish politician and activist, when they step into the halls of the political conferences and gatherings of the opposition or of Iranian centres, must confront a fundamental and essential question: why does Persian always become the sole means of conveying the message? Is this a technical and organisational choice for the sake of convenience, or evidence of an unwritten system of centralism and of the supremacy of the dominant language? Is this resort to Persian a sign of a lack of self-confidence and a kind of self-diminishment before the prevailing power, or merely a political tactic?
The answer to this question does not encompass only one dimension; it has several interwoven aspects:
First: Some Kurdish representatives believe that using Persian is a 'shortcut' for conveying the message to the largest possible number of listeners and for influencing Iranian public opinion. But this view carries a historical price; for when a political tactic, for the sake of conveying the message, relinquishes its own language, it in fact concedes in advance the cultural and political supremacy of the centre and weakens the identity dimension of its own discourse.
Second: Although in many of those gatherings there is no absolute legal prohibition, an unseen boundary and a continuous psychological fear nevertheless exist. The majority of participants fall into 'self-censorship'; they fear that speaking in Kurdish may be interpreted as a sign of separatism or of extremism. This situation causes the Kurdish voice within political arenas to appear merely as a linguistic appendage, and not as a pole that holds rights.
Third: When democracy and alliance are discussed, plurality and multilingualism are often pushed to the margins in the name of a common language and of national unity. But it must be made clear: a democracy that is built upon the foundation of erasing multilingualism is merely a change in the faces of dictatorship. Respect for language rights is not a secondary matter; it is the cornerstone of any genuinely democratic agreement.
Fourth: An important aspect of this matter is the breakdown between word and deed. It is notable that most of the parties that speak of federalism have failed at the smallest practical step. Federalism is not merely the division of power; linguistic equality is one of its main pillars. At a conference where there is no simultaneous interpretation into the non-Persian languages, talking of federalism is without foundation and is no more than a shiny slogan. This is not merely a technical shortcoming; it is a sign of the weakness of political will.
Fifth: Often the fundamental demands of the Kurds, such as the right to self-determination, are softly or indirectly censored. The Kurds and the other peoples of the geography of Iran are always compelled to gather beneath the flags and symbols of the centralist Iranian nation-state, without being permitted to display even the smallest symbol of their own identity. This act, at its root, is an effort to make the marginalised sides conform — not an equal partnership. An attempt by the non-Persian peoples to compensate for this inequality merely by pinning on a small lapel ribbon or by a minor gesture cannot take the place of formal political and legal rights.
In conclusion, this issue is not merely a linguistic question; it is a reflection of the balance of power. Kurdish is not merely an instrument of speech; it is an important part of identity and of political rights. For this reason, the time has come for Kurdish politics, with greater self-confidence, to set its own national conditions and limits for participation on any platform. Any participation in which Kurdish is not present as an official and equal language and as a national identity will not be a guarantee for a free future. The aim is not merely the democratisation of the centre; it is the preservation of dignity and the securing of the legitimate rights of the people of Kurdistan as an equal nation.
