Derdê Mîrûn etched her name into one of the darkest chapters of history as a woman who blended motherhood with resistance, and love with pain. She is remembered as a heroine in the collective memory of her people, leaving behind an indelible mark. Her story is not only one of a mother’s love for her children, but also of an unyielding struggle for the freedom of her people and the heavy price paid for that struggle. During the Sheikh Said uprising, Derdê Mîrûn endured the indescribable pain of her sons’ executions — and yet, by holding onto their memory and remaining loyal to the honorable struggle of her people, she carved out her place in history as a Kurdish woman of immense courage and devotion.

Who was Derdê Mîrûn?

Derdê Mîrûn was born in the Oxnut district of the Kanireş region. She belonged to the Mala Sûwêr clan of the Cibran tribe. Her given name was Mrs. Derdê, the daughter of Mehemedê Xelil, and she was also known as Oze (Seide). From childhood, Mrs. Derdê lived a life deeply rooted in the traditions of her people. These strong tribal customs shaped her into a woman of resilience, determination, and deep devotion to her community.

Though she came from a prosperous background, Mrs. Derdê’s life was not defined by wealth or possessions, but by values of humanity. Her unwavering loyalty to her people, their traditions, and their values guided her throughout her life and shaped her unrelenting pursuit of justice in later years. Mrs. Derdê married Mr. Ali, one of the noblemen of Çapakçur. Mr. Ali was a member of the local ruling family appointed by the Ottoman Empire to govern the region. From this marriage, she had three sons and two daughters: Faik, Said, and Ibrahim. Together with her children, she led a joyful life, grounded in hope for the future. After marrying into the Mir family, she became known among the people as 'Derdê Mîrûn.' However, it was the tragedies she endured and the strength she showed in the face of them that led to her being remembered in history as 'Derdê Mîrûnê.'

Children who stepped into resistance

The year 1925 marked not only a turning point for the Kurdish people but also one of the most painful moments in the life of Mrs. Derdê. The Sheikh Said uprising went down in history as one of the first major Kurdish rebellions against Turkish rule. The brutal suppression of the uprising gave way to some of the darkest days of that era.

In those dark times, Mrs. Derdê’s eyes were locked on the eyes of her three sons — Faik, Said, and Ibrahim. As a mother, she gazed into their brave eyes for the last time. With each of them, she carried in her heart an immense love, deep respect for the resistance burning inside them, and unwavering commitment to her people’s struggle for freedom. Her eyes did not only hold sorrow — they also reflected the fierce strength of a mother standing against the world. To her, each of her sons was a hero.

One day, inside the court of the Independence Tribunal in Elazığ, the judges made Mrs. Derdê a cruel offer: “We will spare one of your sons, but you must choose.” A storm raged within her. Her eyes drifted toward her youngest son, Ibrahim. He had just recently married; only six months had passed since his wedding. Though crushed by the weight of this impossible decision, she stood tall and responded: “No mother divides her heart. If you cut five fingers, each one hurts the same.” As she stared into the eyes of the judges, she realized once again that there was no justice in that court. She turned her back on the trial. She had no choice but to entrust her sons — and their honor and resistance — to fate.

The tribunal was not an instrument of justice, but a tool of execution and oppression. These ruthless judges, who did not hesitate to tear apart a mother’s heart, struck yet another blow to the conscience of humanity.

On 15 April 1926, in Elazığ’s Şire Square, Mrs. Derdê’s sons and other Kurdish resistance fighters were led to the gallows. As dawn broke, Ibrahim was the first to be hanged. Watching the life and dreams of her youngest son come to an end on that gallows seared itself into Mrs. Derdê’s soul like a burning ember. She wept silently, holding back her tears — determined not to show her pain in front of the enemy.

From the window of her hotel room, Mrs. Derdê watched the final journey of her children. But her eyes held not sorrow, but pride. She did not bid them farewell merely as a mother, but as a people bidding farewell to their warriors.

The executions were carried out one by one. Mrs. Derdê, holding her tears deep inside, took her sons down from the gallows with her own hands — Faik’s lifeless body, Ibrahim’s cooling form, and Said’s final breath. She carried each of them. She personally covered the burial and funeral costs of all eleven executed men. She buried her sons and the other fighters side by side — because they were not only her children, but the very symbols of a nation’s struggle for freedom.

Mrs. Derdê’s life became a symbol of the Kurdish people’s resistance through the eyes of a mother. She was not merely a grieving mother who had lost her children; she was a woman who bore the suffering, the burdens, and the resistance of her entire people. Her defiance became a symbol of the Kurdish nation’s strength in the face of the Turkish state’s legal repression. Because even though she lost her sons, she spent a lifetime keeping their legacy alive.

A mother’s cry

After completing the burials of her sons, Mrs. Derdê never once gave in to despair. Without shedding a single tear, she laid the other young men to rest with her own hands, just as she had done with her sons, and then set out on the road to Bingöl. Everyone she encountered along the way looked at her with eyes full of pity. Yet she held her head high and continued her journey with dignity. For three days, wherever she stopped, she remained silent — no complaints, no tears. People pitied her; some even believed she had gone mad.

 But the agony burning inside Mrs. Derdê — the longing for her sons, the weight of all she had lost — finally broke free when she returned home. By the time she reached her village, word had already spread that she had “lost her mind” on the road to Bingöl. Villagers looked at her with a mixture of concern and sorrow. In this war, she had lost not only her sons but also her husband, two brothers, several cousins, and many paternal relatives. Some had been executed, others killed in battle, or sent into exile. Her family had been shattered.

When she finally reached her village, her emotions overflowed and her cry rose to the heavens. As she mourned her sons, she held her head high and accepted condolences with a proud and dignified stance. When asked why she had not cried or spoken during those dark days, she simply answered:“One does not show their pain or grief in the face of the enemy.” Mrs. Derdê’s words echoed through history.

The story above, drawn from the real-life experiences of Mrs. Derdê, is based on the memories shared by her grandson, Ahmet Ertuğrul, shortly before her passing.