PKK Resmi İnternet Sitesi

PAJK Resmi İnternet Sitesi

YJA STAR Resmi İnternet  Sayfası

Gerila TV




sehit zerdest_dersimi

The best place to succeed is the road and the road passes through the mountains. The mountains are not dead yet. The conditions of the mountain are more suitable for the struggle despite all their difficulties. When one ascends the mountain, the person looks down from the hill and does not underestimate others. On the contrary, it first looks at mountains and then oneself from the mountains. One better notices how small one is, how much one removed from nature, and how low one is pushed. The reason for this is undoubtedly both the consciousness that is gained and the stance of nature. Air, soil, sound, colours, vitality, cold and warm, night and day ... Everything is the inspiration to encourage people to re-shape. This is also an important reason why we have to become resistance from the top to bottom after coming to these mountains, even with our weak states. And when you look at yourself in the glory of the human mountain, you want to say, "I will never allow my heart to become a cemetery." Stones, rocks, birds, insects, grass, air, soil, everything makes people say like this.

Now we should see this too. Who is telling us this? Leader APO is the soul of the PKK. If it was not that great struggle, that great soul, could we be able to say this meaningfully? Could the mountains be given so meaning? Or did we spontaneously, with absence, reach this, were there not the ones who deceived themselves? They could not keep themselves from falling into the worst situation. For they have not done justice to the mountains. They wanted to despise all the values and curse them. They fell into a damned situation.

To be on the mountain, to go from mountain to mountain, to be blessed in the mountains, we have to be conscious of it. It is important to realise the meaning of our role, our place, our history, our culture in terms of our spiritual value, not just in the physicality of the mountain.

We need not to deny it. The mountains were rebuilt with great struggle and a very heavy price. If the PKK says "I created these mountains," this is not wrong. Is it not the PKK, who is fighting, whose mountains are being perceived to be primitive places without its name being felt, and turned them into places of resistance, struggle, enlightenment, liberation? Who can deny?

It is neither incredible nor impressive, but a fact to access the the self-sacrificer, the guiding light and the sanctuary in the cave manhood of the society's disgrace, the trouble-maker, but it is the truth. This, of course, did not take place spontaneously and easily, but in incredible difficulties, in unbearable harshness, in great labour, in response to so many lives-blood. There is no position, no rock left unbloodied, with almost no parts left, almost every piece of land possibly filled with a few resistance. This level was obtained by being inside weapons, bombs thought, word, pen, song, digging and shovelling, hunger, coldness, left in wounds and much more. Holiness is here, glory is here, beauty is here, faith is here, joy, excitement. Life is greening here. And wave flows all over my country.

And May six comes,

I become sea

I am turned back in Gemerek and hanged in Ankara

I become Mahir and shot in Kızıldere ten times

I become Ibrahim and executed in torture

I become Karasungur and Bilgin to fall to the ground with the bullet of betrayal in Qandil

I become Ferhat and turn into a fire ball in Amed prison

Haki in Antep,

I become Çavgun in Urfa and blossom flowers, seeding

And with many others we come arm to arm in govend

We become the revenge oath in the freedom language and are drinked.

Soza we sonda me ye!

His fellow fighters

HPG Press Centre

Comrade Yücel joins the ranks of the guerrilla from the Amed County in 1999. After a short period of time, he goes to the Soran area due to the withdrawal of the guerrilla to the south. After the Martyr Ayhan camp, he joins the year 2000 southern war to break the siege of the PUK peshmergas.

You were the true child of Botan, you the noble daughter of Botan. In our liberation struggle, Botan fired the first bullet to colonialism, co-operation and reaction. Its mountains are a place of freedom.Botan is the place of resistance, freedom in Kurdish history. The PKK became the heart of the fight for freedom. In this area where the games of the reactionary system have never ceased, the protection of Kurdish roots with resistance has become the truth that people of the region have not given up throughout history. Botan has created legends, heroes. You, beautiful comrade, became the simplest, most rebellious truth of resistance by not falling into the traps of enemy reaction. You, without being in search of unfathomable dreams, fell into searches after breathing in the air of freedom at the young age. You wanted to fly, to wing, to be a militant of the holy struggle in free mountains. I never forget you, the days when we traveled to the country you belonged and the mountains. You were flying like a butterfly and you were flapping your wings. You got into a thrill, a flow of excitement. You wanted to reach the sacred places as soon as possible. You were going to fight, to militancy, to liberation. You were full of enthusiasm like a lover. That sincerity on your face, your smiling eyes, the assertive stance; were influencing us, all the comrades next to you.

It’s difficult to explain you, my comrade with a small age but a big heart. I also passed by the path you walked after a short time. Your name was mentioned frequently in the conversations of friends. Throughout all the processes you stepped into in childhood and youth, you were always the one loved the most. You had a respectable place in the area you lived in. You were a friend everyone loved. I was wondering who Nucan from Şırnak, always spoken by friends, was. Who was the comrade who left such a deep mark in the hearts of these comrades? I really wanted to know my comrade who was spoken of with much love. I was not surprised when I found out who this girl from Şırnak was. I knew you, I had guessed that this beautiful essence of my comrade who was beloved in the house, the area she lived in had grew even more in the ranks of the freedom struggle. She had walked in the footsteps of the goddesses who had made their way to freedom. They were waiting for you, the goddesses who sat in their thrones. You walked in the Zagros Mountains. You were touched in Zagros. In the midst of the beauty of Zagros, you composed the life which felt like poetry and folk songs.

I was running forward to catch up with you and embrace you. I was eager to see the Nucan I knew in the land of the goddesses. We had sent her to the mountains. We listened to her heartbeats that day. Once more, I wanted to embrace my young, beautiful companion.

I walked towards you. I was excited, I quickly crossed the mountains and came to you; But I did not know that you would leave us early like this. You left us in a season I never expected. You were born and lived in a butterfly delicacy, you lived and then said goodbye to us. I have hidden a lot of things to say in my heart. I was going to

share with you my longings I had hidden in my heart. We were going to laugh, be overjoyed with you. Like many longings, I will live the dream of seeing you by burying it in my heart ... I will live for your longing, carrying you in my heart. You wrote songs, by repeating my oath to deem your songs immortal, I commemorate all the world’s revolutionary martyrs under your name.

Lorin Andok

Nom de Guerre: Nucan Nurhak

Name Surname: Hafiye Bilgi

Date and Place of Martyrdom: April 15, 2008 during the air attack in Zagros.

HPG Press Centre

The occupation, the massacre and the shadow of migration had been circulating on Kurdistan for thousands of years like black clouds. That is, until the birth of the light that were to tear apart all the dark clouds. This light was so burning that it was a coup for all backward minds. The light was so burning that the earth was filled with enthusiasm and the seeds bursting from the soil, turning into a flower, and becoming the fruit that would feed the whole humanity. The brave sons of the holy lands were to awaken thirsty to freedom, and have real evidence against all kinds of persecution and injustice.

The last words comrade Xelat spoke to the camera before crossing to the north:

"My name is Xelat Gorse. I came to the world in Mardin in 1982. I joined the ranks in 99. I came to the ranks from Amed. I stayed there for a while. I traveled to the southern areas with the withdrawal process. Now I'm on the way to Botan, I'm going to Botan.