“And you had taught your fighters the rules,
Of making the spirit invincible…”
Numbers, letters, and notes are each a language of their own. The human mind brings them together in a search for meaning and truth. This is where legend and mystery truly begin. The secret to the immortality sought lies in the source of energy and light. It is, in a sense, the very reason for human existence: the struggle to make this thought concrete. Every living being moves according to its own nature, yet this is only the outcome of a particular truth.
While all material forms are doomed to be born, to live, and to die, energy can neither be created nor destroyed. It was never born, and it can never die. It simply exists. As the eternal and primordial source of matter, it precedes all forms and is conceived as absolutely infinite. Energy means action and movement. In this sense, passion, emotion, thought, and life itself are energy. Equally significant is the interwoven relationship of energy with light, the dialectic that creates both energy and life.
Without light, our world would be in complete darkness, and life could never exist. Existence owes its biological function to light. Light is life itself. Without it, there could be no living being. Everything we are and everything we perceive is the direct result of the movement of light. For every being radiates the aura of its own light into the universe from its very center. The magnificent harmony of energy, frequency, and vibration begins precisely here.
Thus, in the differences of morality and nature… Differences arise from the particular and, in the absolute sense, are part of it. Everyone knows that a drop dissolves into the ocean, but very few are granted the insight to understand that the ocean also dissolves into a single drop. This reality expresses a divine omnipresence, the macrocosm within the microcosm, God within all forms.
What are the qualities of those rare individuals who understand that the ocean can dissolve into a single drop? They are independent, free, rebellious, and revolutionary in character. Such people possess a unique spirit that is dependent on no one. They dedicate their lives and all their energy to this purpose.
Life is the unity of sky and earth upon our planet. At this very point, the drop turns to vapor, becomes a cloud, and finally falls back to earth as rain; it becomes a river, flows, and reaches the sea.
Ancient sages called the aura an “energy cocoon.” It is said that the aura carries the entire knowledge of an individual’s past, present, and future. In what is called life, the particular, timeless, spaceless, and infinite destiny is determined not by numbers, letters, or notes, but by the aura. In a sense, the unique aura of every being is also its destiny.
Our independent, free, rebellious, and revolutionary commander, comrade Sofî Nûreddîn, once said when joining the guerrilla ranks: “I may not be for the Kurdistan Workers’ Party (PKK), but the PKK is entirely for me.”
Words are not understood by language alone; in these lands, they are sealed with the faith of the heart. This deeply philosophical statement is, in a way, the very summary of the life of our beloved comrade, Commander Sofî Nûreddîn. With his joining, a revolutionary found his life’s mission, and a mission found within itself a unique revolutionary to carry it forward.
The expression “beloved comrade” was once used by President Öcalan for Hüseyin Özbey (Harun), when he said: “The beloved of you all has fallen a martyr.” To live up to such expressions requires an extraordinary personality and perhaps stands among the most important measures of character.
In the ancient Yarsanî faith, those who worship in the cem house are asked: “How many friends do you have?” As a philosophy of life and a morality of society, this principle reflects the ethical meaning of what we call “beloved.”
To be the beloved of all comrades stands among the clearest examples of the tradition of comradeship in the PKK. After all, those who write epics are those who become the most beloved beings of their people.
Comrade Sofî Nûreddîn was a friend we deeply loved and cherished. He was someone to whom philosophical definitions most truly applied. In fact, he was a philosopher. A philosopher is one who is steadfast in his work, skilled in his craft, truthful in his words, virtuous in his morals, accurate in his thoughts, dignified in his conduct and realistic in his knowledge.
His capacity for wonder and curiosity made his spirit pure, like that of a child. The strength of his sincere heart was already immense. He had a diligent nature and a brave character. He produced in order to share, he fed others before he himself ate, he gave without taking, and he thought of his comrades before himself. He was nourished by freedom, clothed himself with truth, and grew within this cocoon of meaning.
Indeed, it cannot be said that one who cannot grasp the nobility of reasoning truly lives. In every condition, even in the most desperate moments, he always found solutions, and this arose from the power of his reasoning. His mind was like a river, ceaselessly flowing in its course.
Breathing and the concept of responsibility come from the same root, from the same etymology. He always took hold of his responsibilities as if he was breathless. Every breath he took, he valued to the fullest. He was the very center of an extraordinary vortex of energy, and his energy was nothing less than devotion itself. Even when his eyes slept, his heart did not. He was an artist who lived with mastery in every field of life.
The word “Sofi,” which became inseparable from Comrade Nûreddîn, has its roots in philosophy. At its essence, Sofi means a lover of hardship and an enemy of the ego. It means to own nothing, and for nothing to own him. Sofi never says, “This is mine.” For his faith, he would sacrifice his life, and he regarded the pursuit of wealth and property as the greatest sin. This is a profound faith.
Faith is the belief in the reality of the unseen or the hidden. The faith of Commander Sofî Nûreddîn, born of his superhuman willpower and courage, was the sincere, relentless, and complete devotion of his love for truth. No hardship could shake the faith of his heart. He was a source of power, like the tide ruled by the moon, drawing everything in its wake.
Throughout his life, even in the face of the most fundamental difficulties, he acted with tolerance. This was perhaps connected to his rare ability to do the hardest thing of all, learning how it is done by actually doing it. He had a free spirit that made his mind new, sensitive, alive, aware, sharp, and capable.
After all, happiness is reflected to people in the mirror of a sacred task. His life was our mirror, his heart our joy of life. Through his love, he made everything possible. Yes, he possessed a way of thinking that spoke the truth, never forgetting, because he always spoke the truth, and he lived with a simple way of life.
To never forget is to speak the truth. It also means to live rightly. His love for living truthfully had taken root in the core of his being. For what else can beauty be, other than being true to oneself?
The essence of life is a constant state of flow and becoming. The essence of anything is possible only through its direction. Whatever he did, he did it wholeheartedly, without hesitation, without setting limits, and in its fullest measure. He was the embodied form of leadership at its most complete. Intelligent, virtuous, and beautiful, he was the very image of the person everyone aspires to be.
His presence gave our people the feeling that they were not abandoned. His perception was attentive and sensitive, always open. Attention meant care and love for him. He dedicated his heart to knowing, doing, discovering, and creating. The goodness and beauty of his labor flowed directly from this remarkable attentiveness.
His leadership, rooted in truth, was an example of perfection that inspired admiration and love around him. He was the perfect, complete revolutionary.
It is revolutionaries who transform a drop into an ocean, a seed into a forest. Occupiers and oppressors, on the other hand, seek to grow fat by consuming all human values. Yet, as history itself has shown, the colonizer’s thirst for expansion is scattered like dust, smoke, straw, and feathers before the struggle of revolutionaries, dissolving into nothingness.
The guerrilla war against oppression and colonialism developed over thousands of years through trial and error, until it took its present form. The life of Commander Sofî Nûreddîn was a great struggle against the evils of colonialism. He never wavered from devoting all he had, even the smallest particle of his being, to the mountains he loved with passion, dedicating them wholly to his struggle.
The society and homeland he belonged to had been abandoned to the merciless claws of genocide in one of the most inhuman centuries. The beauty of his country was veiled by the dark clouds of foreign invaders. In a world that had lost its reason, there was not a single state that recognized the existence of his people.
Colonial powers had turned our world into a planet of death. They had made exploitation and oppression the very reason for life. For the rights and truth of his people, in the mountains of Kurdistan, there was no path left but to resist by force. And truly, no other choice would have suited his beautiful heart.
With every step, he crossed the mountains to tear apart the shroud placed upon his people. He never once stepped back from the life and leadership style that was wholly dedicated to his society.
The Kurds are a people who have drawn their genes, their being, and their nature from the mountains. When one looks at the mountains, which are life itself for the Kurdish people, they resemble monuments rising from the soil, each particle of which holds secrets, toward the sky. The earth seems as though, through its mountains, it is reaching for the mystery of the heavens and praying for the blessings of the sky.
Perhaps it is the sky itself that longs to draw the earth upward. That is why the mountains are love rising from the earth toward the sky. Commander Sofî Nûreddîn was deeply faithful to the essence rooted in the genes of his people.
Thus, he became the virtuous, spirited, joyful, and courageous commander of the guerrillas who had taken root in the heart of the Kurdistan mountains. The mountains, the place where the Kurdish people’s revolt was fermented, had endowed him with a majestic character.
He was the commander who turned the mountains into the fortress of life for the Kurdish people’s struggle for freedom. His labor gifted us with the honor of loving our country and our people. He was the embodiment of a genius and mystical guerrilla commander, ablaze with the passion for the victory of the Kurdistan mountains. The mountains had given him a thirst for grandeur.
The majestic and free spirit that was born in the embrace of the mountains stood like steel against the occupying armies armed with the weapons of oppression.
At the core of guerrilla warfare lies flow. In this state of flow, guerrillas devote most of all their lives to one another and to the fight. He always led this unique flow with his smile, his enthusiasm, his jokes, and his morale.
He was like those moments when death is only a breath away, when life and death strive to steal one another’s moments. The values that found a place in life stood before the eyes of each of his comrades one by one.
Among the Kurds, the concept of moral refinement (edep) means knowledge, culture, protecting and caring, admiration, the true and accepted path, and measured conduct in all things. He was a personality who had internalized and embodied the values of Kurdish moral refinement.
Indeed, his profound spirituality could not be grasped within time and space, but only within eternity. At times, whenever the intensity of guerrilla work allowed him, he would immerse himself for days in the works of Kurdish sages, poets, and writers such as Melayê Cizîrî, Feqiyê Teyran, and Ehmedê Xanê.
From the pages of history, he sought to draw forth their values and make them part of his comrades’ lives. His struggle, his faith, and his devotion were what kept him awake at night, and what roused him as soon as he closed his eyes.
He flowed through life with unshakable loyalty, unstoppable. He possessed a mind that never slept, and it was this that made him a commander whose intellectual weapons were nearly impossible to withstand.
While writing about the life of comrade Sofî Nûreddîn, the phrase “resisting emotions” somehow resonated deeply with me. What revealed him most was his smile. Within even a single smile lay the depth of his culture and intellect.
That smile suited him because it was distilled from those resisting emotions. It radiated positive energy to everyone around him, creating a belief that no hardship was insurmountable. It was as if energy flowed into his soul from all the elements of the universe. Wherever he was, his comrades learned to stand firmly on their feet. He was a master of motivation, for in the sparkle of his eyes there was a great and profound love for his young comrades.
At times, instead of words, he chose to communicate with the movement of playful jokes. He never abandoned this natural quality. In this way, he reached into the hearts of his comrades, stirred their blood, entered their minds, and shifted their spirits.
He was as fluid as mercury, never confined to a mold or dogma. With his free spirit, he had become a natural monument of the Kurdish revolution.
Every legend tells how truth comes into being. He was a true revolutionary legend, as if created for the struggle itself. Revolution and resistance were the central purpose of his existence. Life, to him, had a single meaning: to fight for the revolution.
He awoke and slept with only one thought: revolution. The map of meaning in his life was the struggle for it. He had dedicated his existence to the ideal of turning his country and his people into free lands where they could grow as a whole in joy and peace.
On this path, it is beyond doubt that he possessed not only a great heart but also a sharp intellect. He did what he believed in, and he believed in what he did.
The greatest service to all worthy struggles can only be given by those who have truly returned to their essence. Such people, in the broadest sense, become the culture of their struggle. Culture is what remains after everything else has been forgotten.
The labor of Comrade Sofî Nûreddîn, the traces he left in the hearts of his comrades, and his service to his people and his country will never be forgotten. He fought across the four parts of Kurdistan so that his people could live free under the sky. The magic of his mind and heart was so unique that with his will and love he could make the impossible possible. His serene spirit and exceptional vitality advanced the guerrilla life with dignity. He was always a genius of warfare, working ceaselessly, wholeheartedly, and with perseverance on guerrilla tactics.
President Öcalan once said: “We have theorized the martyr.” The word theory means having an intuition; the ability to observe and grasp the truth of something instantly. The martyr is the very existence that encompasses everything beyond life and death. In martyrdom, birth is death, and death is birth again. The theorization of the martyr is, in essence, the expression of immortality.
And what is immortal? It is that which does not change with time, that which is lasting and eternal. Without a noble morality, it is impossible to display dignified behavior. Comrade Sofî Nûreddîn regarded keeping alive the faith of the martyred comrades as a moral obligation. He was united with the truth of the values established and spread by the reality of the martyrs.
Memories are the undying states of life. When I recall his memories, I feel an inconsolable, helpless, and silent cry rise up and knot in my throat. It is impossible to have known Comrade Sofî Nûreddîn and not to have collected memories of him.
I once visited the headquarters of the People’s Protection Units (YPG). I arrived at the post at the crack of dawn. With sleepless eyes, he welcomed me at the door, smiling as he said: “I have fulfilled the dream of our Commander, Martyred Comrade Adil Bilika.” Curious, I asked him about that dream. With a quick and captivating tone, he told me:
“Heval Adil had a dream. He wanted to wear a sharp uniform, put on sunglasses, and watch the parade of his thousands of fighters. So, in his memory, I organized such a grand military parade, wearing a sharp uniform and sunglasses, and I watched it.”
But he was not content with that alone: “Here, my name is also Adil,” he added. After breakfast, he said, “I will take you around Qamishlo,” and as we walked through its streets, he made sure to tell me the stories of his childhood and youth that lingered in every corner.
I know that numbers, letters, and notes are limited in power, and they cannot capture the spell, nor can they truly tell of his struggle. I have no doubt that even the human voice is too weak to express the feelings we carry for Comrade Sofî Nûreddîn.
It is said that on the Day of Judgment, deeds take form and come to their owner, saying: “I am your deed.” As his comrades, we are certain that his deeds were good, right, and beautiful. Just as we are certain of the hereafter of our comrade for whom we will always hunger in life, we also have no doubt that, because he fought for truth and freedom, he left to humanity a rich legacy of deep thoughts, honorable aims, unique ideals, and valuable achievements.
There are moments when human language fails to become sound. As those who know that words hold no power in the face of grief, we agree on this truth. And yet, what he left us as a trust is a vast hatred of oppression. We belong to a tradition where one falls, and a thousand are born. It is clear that thousands of Sofî Nûreddîns, worthy of his trust, will rise again in his struggle like the Phoenix. His courage and boundless spirituality will forever inspire those who follow his path.
Source: ANF News
