When Kurd Fought Kurd Under Foreign Flags
In the winter of 1209,
beneath the cold sky of Ahlat,
two Kurdish brothers rode
with a Georgian crown behind them,
and a cross stitched into their armor.
They came not to conquer,
but to protect
Christian rebels who called to them—
whispers of faith and fire
echoing in Armenian stone.
Ivane, bold as ever,
circled the city with a holy cause
and a quiet horse.
But fate digs ditches
for the faithful.
He fell.
And the defenders—
Ayyubid soldiers,
Kurds too,
born of the same mountains,
raised by the same winds—
they saw the fall,
and they took him.
Not as kin.
But as the enemy.
Zakare, upon hearing,
did not pray.
He roared.
He sent word:
“Return my brother,
or I will return your cities
to ash.”
But no fire could burn away
what had already been lost.
What do you call it
when Kurds wear the cross
and fight Kurds with the crescent,
while the real kings
sit in stone halls
counting heads?
You call it history.
You call it betrayal.
You call it
the wound we carry still.
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