En førstis sitt første møte med dragen og resten av fjellet

Injuria.no • 20. oktober 2021

- Et kåseri av Vetle Olsen-Ryum

Vinter nå og sola steker og jeg er med på vinterleker. I august? Jeg er så full at bena sover. Jeg tenner på de internasjonale ulovfestede transnasjonale sedvanereglene. Nei, faen. Fuck. Det var de norske lover jeg skulle tenne på. Nå som jeg er jusstudent. Selv etter å ha pugget på denne sangen like fokusert som om jeg var oppe til avhør hos Juristforeningen for å ha krenket kua med å drikke vegansk havremelk fremfor vanlig kumelk, så sitter verken dansen eller teksten. Heldigvis har jeg fem år igjen å lære meg den på.

Fem år igjen på jussen, med dragen og resten av fjellet.

Når man skal starte turen opp fjellet med dragen, møter man på mange konflikter inne i eget hode. Skal man være med på det syvende arrangementet i fadderperioden selv om hodet spinner, svettekjertlene er fylt med billig russisk sprit og magesekken er utelukkende en stor kebabrull? Eller skal man bli hjemme med Netflix og chill i form av billig first price sjokolade? Skal man tørre å ikke være den beste versjonen av seg selv? Du vet, den versjonen som ler av dårlige vitser og deltar aktivt i samtaler med temaer man ikke har peiling på, mens smittevernvaktene gestikulerer én meter avstand. Jeg vil si at dette er det første møte med jussens drage. Frykten for å være alene, frykten for å ikke finne seg noen og frykten for at man skal bli fanget i en stor mengde.

Apropos frykt. Dresscode. Hva i alle land og dager er greia med at alle jusstudenter ser ut som de kommer rett fra et fotoshoot med Vogue? Jeg har aldri brukt så lang tid på å velge outfit, og jeg har aldri lengtet så lenge etter favoritt joggedressen min.

Men igjen er det denne dragen. Frykten for å skille seg ut. Frykten for å ikke gi faen, samtidig som man gir for mye faen. Typ, man vil ikke være den som møter opp i Nygårdsparken i fadderperioden uten musikk, men man vil heller ikke være den som tropper opp med en spesialbestilt Louis Vuitton x Gucci soundbox i matt svart.

Og når vi først er inne på tema, det å finne frem i Bergen og på dragefjellet som en førstis er noe vanskelige greier. Oppmøte ved den blå steinen, men på mistenkelig vis endte jeg opp med noen grønne og blå steiner i en barnehage på Åsane. Oppmøte i Nygårdsparken, jeg endte i gamleparken. For real, hvis jeg får beskjed om å møte opp i gamlebygget, som er mer nytt enn det nye, samtidig som jeg skal pugge mellomverset til JVL-sangen og få informasjon om arbeidsgruppe, seminargruppe, undergrupper og hvilken lesesal som er lov og ikke lov å lese på, så kommer hodet mitt til å eksplodere. 

Et siste element om det første møte med fjellet er undergruppene. Gruppene som er mer lavterskel enn Oompa Loompane fra Charlie og sjokoladefabrikken. Selv om gruppene er lavterskel blir de automatisk høyterskel for alle som tropper opp for første gang. Er det ikke rimelig fascinerende hvordan det blir nevnt at undergrupper er lavterskel, men de føles ut som høyterskel i eget hode.

Fotballtrening er plutselig prøvespill til Brann på deres storhetstid på 60-tallet. Kanonball føles ut som man har blitt transformert til Oscarborg festning 9. april 1940 og skyter for harde livet. Selv om man får ros når man ror og løpende gode tilbakemeldinger når man løper, er nervene fortsatt mer i høyspenn enn når man drikker original monster på sal eller tar ex.fac. for seriøst.

Men alt dette er bare en skildring av en førstis sitt første møte med dragen og resten av fjellet.

Fordi når man først har møtt starten av fjellet, møter man også de andre som tar turen oppover. Jeg har ALDRI opplevd et mer inkluderende studentmiljø og mer lavtersklende undergrupper. Det er fine, rause, medmenneskelige, støttende og omsorgsfulle medstudenter rundt meg. Ikke en ildblåsende drage.

Takk for at dere ALLE fikk oss førstiser til å innse hvorfor vi skal tenne på de norske lover. Vi er ikke er redde for å engasjere oss, spørre randome om faglige spørsmål eller retningen til lesesal 12. Takk for at dere gjør at vi førstiser ikke blir en del av en stor mengde, men heller en del av et godt fellesskap.

Det er snart vinter. Og da vettu, da skal solen steke. Jeg skal være med på vinterleker. Jeg skal være så full at bena sover. Og du aner ikke hvor hardt jeg skal sprute utover de norske lover.

Av Hannah M. Behncke, Eylül Sahin and Sabrina Eriksen Zapata – ELSA Bergen, Human Rights, Researchgruppen 24. april 2025
Oppression isn’t always loud - it can be the quiet erasure of culture and language, stripping minorities of their freedom to express who they are. Language and culture are two of the most important means to keep one's identity alive. Unfortunately, many minorities face extreme repression regarding their background. The Kurdish ability to perform their culture in Turkey has been a long struggle. This is still the case today, where the Kurdish minority face backlash for speaking their language. This article will look into the Kurdish fight to protect their identity in Turkey. To gain a deeper understanding of the diverse perspectives on this issue, we interviewed a Kurdish and a Turkish citizen of Turkey about their views on the Turkish state's treatment of Kurds. Legal basis Although several international legal frameworks exist to protect minority cultures and languages, Turkey has not incorporated them into its legal system. Article 27 of the International Covenant of Civil and Political Rights explicitly states that “minorities shall not be denied the right […] to enjoy their culture, [...] or to use their own language.” However, despite ratifying the ICCPR, Turkey made a reservation excluding Article 27. Similarly, the European Charter for Regional or Minority Languages requires minority languages to be accessible in education, judicial court proceedings, and in the media. However, Turkey has not ratified this charter. Domestically, the Turkish constitution does not recognize Kurds as a minority. In fact, article 42 explicitly prohibits the “teaching of any language other than Turkish as a mother tongue to Turkish citizens”.1 As a result, the Kurdish language lacks legal protection, unlike Ladino, Greek, and Armenian, which are safeguarded under the Treaty of Lausanne (1923).2 Historical overview After the Ottoman Empire's collapse, the 1920 Treaty of Sèvres promised Kurdish autonomy, but the 1923 Treaty of Lausanne nullified it, dividing Kurdistan among Turkey, Iran, Iraq, and Syria without self-rule.3 Under Atatürk, Turkey enforced homogenization, banning Kurdish in public, closing Kurdish schools, renaming villages (1924) and forcibly relocating Kurds—even though most Kurds did not speak Turkish.4 The state criminalized Kurdish, promoted Citizen, Speak Turkish! and justified relocations as a tool to suppress identity.5 The Sheikh Sa’id Rebellion (1925), led by Kurdish nationalists and Islamists, was brutally crushed, triggering long-term conflict. Martial law and mass deportations lasted until 1939, while uprisings in Ararat (1930) and Dersim (1937–38) faced massacres, bombings, and poison gas, drawing parallels to the Armenian Genocide.6 Allegations of British support for Kurdish rebels persist, but remain debated.7 Kurdish political movements resurfaced in the 1960s and 1970s, with the Kurdish Democratic Party of Turkey (1965) and the Marxist-Leninist PKK (1978) engaging in armed resistance. Turkey designated the PKK a terrorist group in 1997, followed by the US and EU.8 Forced displacement continued, with over a million Kurds migrating between 1950 and 1980 due to state violence and poverty.9 The 1980 military coup further suppressed Kurdish politics, banning education (1982) and publications (Law No. 2932, 1983).10 Despite lifting the language ban in 1991, Kurdish broadcasting remained illegal until 2002. From 1984 to 1999, Turkey destroyed 4,000 Kurdish villages, displaced three million people, and killed tens of thousands in its campaign against Kurdish insurgency.11 The 1991 language bill allowed limited private Kurdish use, but public use remained restricted. Some progress followed in the 21st century, including Kurdish-language broadcasts (2004), a state-run TV channel (2009), and Kurdish as an optional school subject (2012), though full linguistic and cultural rights remain elusive. Oral storytelling (Dengbêj) persisted despite restrictions. Between 2013 and 2015, Turkey’s peace talks with the PKK, involving Abdullah Öcalan, PKK commanders, and pro-Kurdish HDP intermediaries, collapsed—renewing conflict in southeastern Turkey.12 Arbitrary arrests, imprisonment, torture, and land dispossession persist, as security forces often fail to distinguish civilians from PKK members.13 How is the situation today? An estimated 12–20 million Kurds live in Turkey, making up approximately 14–23% of the country's population. The wide range in estimates is due to the absence of ethnicity-related data in official statistics and the social and political stigma that may lead some to conceal their identity.14 As Kurds originate from various countries, most today identify with the state in which they reside. Surveys suggest that many Kurds feel a strong sense of discrimination. Only 28% believe they are treated equally to ethnic Turks, while 58% report experiencing discrimination. Some have even been denied medical services and housing due to their ethnicity.15 To better understand these challenges, we spoke with a Kurdish individual from Elbistan, Turkey, who spent most of his life there before relocating. When asked if he had ever felt pressure speaking Kurdish in public, he recalled visits to public institutions where his family, unable to speak Turkish, had to use Kurdish, but were not allowed to. “It always made us feel fear and anxiety”, he said. He also described restrictions on Kurdish culture: “Whenever we listened to Kurdish music or played traditional games outside, we knew we were being watched. Some of my friends were even detained just for playing games with Kurdish music. It felt like our culture was a crime.” In contrast, a Turkish conservative nationalist offered a different perspective. While personally holding nationalist views, he answered the questions in general terms, arguing that Kurds are integrated into society and do not face systemic barriers. When asked if there was tension between Turks and Kurds in daily life, he dismissed the idea: “Generalizing Turkey’s sociology is difficult, but I don’t see any real barrier. I have Kurdish friends and colleagues, and background doesn’t matter to us. In cities like Istanbul, people aren’t judged based on race, religion, language, or culture.” Even though he acknowledged past discrimination, he viewed it as a historical issue rather than an ongoing one. While the two perspectives differ, they reflect broader discussions on the extent of cultural and linguistic inclusion in Turkey. Surveys suggest that many Kurds report experiencing discrimination, while some view Kurdish cultural expression as unrestricted. The extent to which Kurdish identity is freely expressed - or whether challenges remain - continues to be a subject of debate. The survival of Kurdish culture in Turkey In a survey conducted regarding Kurdish identity, only 30% of Kurds reported their Kurdish language skills to be “good”, and of this 30%, only 44% of them reported that their children had the same strong language skills.16 This suggests that it is harder for each passing generation to maintain and teach the Kurdish language. So how has the oppression impacted Kurdish ability to maintain their language? According to the latter interviewee “Kurdish is spoken openly, cultural traditions are practiced, and there are Kurdish-language newspapers and TV channels”. Media As mentioned above, the Turkish government continuously violates the “freedom of expression”. In 2021, Turkey was the country with most cases regarding violation to “freedom of expression” before the European Court of Human Rights.17 Regarding Kurdish media, there has been a consistent crackdown on Kurdish media platforms. There has also been consistent imprisonment of journalists either writing in Kurdish or regarding Kurdish repression. For instance, Nedim Turfent was sentenced to 8 years imprisonment in 2017 for covering the clashes between the Turkish army and the PKK. In his sentence, he was charged with “membership of a terrorist organization”.18 Education The Educational accessibility to teaching Kurdish has improved in the years. Students in cities with a high population of Kurds, can choose Kurdish as a subject in primary- and secondary school. In addition, some state level universities offer Kurdish programs. However, these educational means have been greatly criticized by Kurdish activists, in regard to the government lowering the quality of education by not supplying enough teachers and appropriate materials needed for the classes.19 Final remarks Language is not just a means of communication; it embodies history, culture, and identity. The Kurdish struggle for linguistic freedom in Turkey is a fight for existence, where legal barriers and social stigmas persist despite claims of progress. While the government insists on inclusivity, Kurdish activists highlight ongoing repression, and for many, fear and anxiety remain. The future of Kurdish identity depends not just on legal reforms but on broader acceptance within Turkish society. Whether true equality is within reach - or remains a distant hope - ultimately depends on who you ask.
Av Injuria 24. april 2025
I denne utgaven: Nordtveit, Ernst - " Rettar til nausttomt " - 1982