The Art of War: Can You Enjoy It Without Choosing Sides?

Posted on Nov 6th 2007 11:00AM by Steve Hochman
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The news reports about warfare and armed raids in the Kurdish regions of Turkey, Iraq and Iran come laden with extra meaning for me. I've never been there. I know little about Kurdish culture. I only know the basics about the specific issues at play in the conflicts. And my interest is not even a matter of the geopolitical implications for that volatile territory. It's simply this: I love Kurdish music.

Stirring epics and yearning love songs with colorful ensemble interplay, Kurdish music is distinct in the landscape of Middle Eastern styles, with a wealth of fine recordings having emerged in recent years, most prominently from the Kamkars and the various spin-offs and solo projects by members of that Tehran-based family group. Chanted choruses tell tales of what sounds like a robust life, evoking horsemen in the desert with a backdrop of hillside villages. In some ways it's more like Central Asian approaches (as heard in some of the examples being anthologized in a current Smithsonian Folkways series) than Persian classical music, though the Kamkars certainly incorporate some of the modes and formats of the latter.

Tactics and bloodshed involving the militant Kurdish Worker's Party (or PKK, branded by some as terrorists) aside, there is a romance to the Kurds' story: a people without a country, oppressed but defiant and proud. And the music very much seems to reflect that history and character.

But here's the problem: Because I like the music and for no other reason, when news of battles comes my way, I find myself reflexively rooting for the Kurds. Is that wrong? Or just naive? Are we sure who the good guys and bad guys are in this situation? Are there bad guys -- or good guys, for that matter?

So I feel a little guilty for being so superficial. It's almost like rooting for a horse because you like its name or the colors the jockey's wearing, or pulling for a team in the World Cup because you visited that country once. But this isn't sports, this is war.

And yet it still seems natural. After all, there's nothing like music through which to bond to a culture (well, unless it's food, which would be another interesting way to pick sides in international conflicts -- "Hey! Their kabobs are tastier than the other guys' curry!"). And it's certainly acceptable to place extra value on art that comes from struggle or oppression -- whether that be songs from the U.S. civil-rights movement or the haunting ballads of Chile's Pinochet-era Nueva Canción anthems to the music associated with composers lost at the Theresienstadt death camp under Nazi rule. Of course there's also a lot of gray area in that regard: The merit of Wagner's music has long been debated in regard to Hitler's embrace of it, and some people seem to put stock into whether specific Shostakovich pieces were evidence of him being a Soviet stooge or whether he was a sly satirist undermining the regime. Even if rationally we know that the music is the same no matter how we feel about the composer or circumstances of the creation, emotionally we can't help but be influenced by such external elements.

This, though, is a reverse situation:. Judging art by the reality behind it is one thing. Assessing brutal realities by the art related to it is something entirely different. But I can't help myself. Maybe the answer is to just be neutral about all conflicts, not "root" for anyone and let music be music.

Or, even better, maybe the solution is for there to be no more war or oppression. Oh ... never mind.