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Canan and Karim Izady were naturalized citizens of the United States. They were from Kurdistan and citizens of Syria. The Izadys fled their home country in 2014 when ISIS launched an offensive on the Kurdish city of Kobani. While their parents and religious elders arranged their marriage, Canan and Karim had already been a couple for years and were deeply in love.
Leaving their home was not easy, despite constant conflict and human suffering. Immigrating and obtaining citizenship was a grueling process. Still, the couple was determined to have children in a free country, one without the daily fear of conflict everywhere. Shortly after they left Kurdistan and arrived in Detroit, the President of the United States implemented a travel ban of Muslims from Syria. The couple’s relatives were now trapped in Syria.
Canan and Karim were alone in America. They settled in Dearborn, west of Detroit, home to the largest concentration of Muslim American citizens in the United States. The couple persevered, made new friends, and, against all odds, applied for citizenship. Karim was an engineer of some renown—his influence and affluence paid off. The couple was fast-tracked to an EB-1 First Preference Visa, permanent residence status, and, finally, citizenship, thanks to Marshall Mann, immigration lawyer extraordinaire and partner at the prestigious Bloomfield Hills Law Offices of Zachary Blake. Blake’s firm was referred by Imam Ghaffari of the Mosque of America.
The couple celebrated their good fortune at a fancy downtown Detroit hotel. Exactly nine months later, their daughter, Hana, was born, a happy consequence of that celebration. Hana was a United States citizen, a birthright granted by the 14th Amendment to the Constitution.
Kurdistan is not a country; it is a cultural community that spans several countries. After the fall of the Ottoman Empire and post-World War I, the Sykes-Picot Agreement and, eventually, the Treaty of Lausanne, split the region and drew borders between Turkey, Syria, Iraq, and Iran. Since the original agreement and subsequent treaty did not establish a Kurdish homeland, this left Kurdish people straddled at the borders of each country, essentially, a people without a country. Today, there are approximately forty million Kurds scattered between the four countries. Primarily because they are a people without a country, Kurds have often suffered attacks, genocide, and massacres at the hands of oppressive regimes in each of the countries they call home. Throughout the years, Kurds have attempted to form their own regional governments, with their own army and rulers. In twenty-first century Kobani, Syria, the Kurds lived in relative peace. In 2003, they formed the Democratic Union Party, which took hold and spread rapidly among the Syrian Kurdish population. In 2011, the so-called Arab Spring reached Kobani, which resulted in the withdrawal of Syrian military forces in the region. Ironically, that is when the trouble began.
The Kurdish government was a bit more progressive than its neighbors. Political groups supported women’s rights, environmental common sense, education, health care for its citizens, and diplomatic relationships with other countries. They forged a “Social Contract” which separated ‘state’ from ‘religion,’ banned underage marriages, recognized human rights for women and children, banned female circumcision and polygamy, prohibited discrimination, and declared men and women equal under the law. These were all positive developments for Canan and Karim Izady.
But when Syria withdrew its troops and civil war broke out in the country, President Assad of Syria left the border open to terrorist organizations. He did this, in part, to quell the uprising of citizens protesting oppression and the lack of social justice in Syria. Low income, a high cost of living, rampant unemployment, and even homelessness plagued the Syrian people.
While internal conflicts and petty political disputes contributed to the demise of peace, ISIS forces attacked Kobani in the fall of 2014. Kobani was strategically located near pipelines and provided supply routes to the Turkish border. As such, it was a prime target for ISIS. It was also a vital city to defend, and the Kurds and multiple allies endeavored to do just that. As a result, a brutal war broke out. In the beginning, it appeared the city would fall under ISIS control, but United States air strikes slowed the siege.
In the meantime, close to 200,000 people fled Kobani and surrounding areas. Most found their way to shelters and refugee camps. Like Canan and Karim, the more affluent found their way to America and a new life in the land of the free. Over time, Kurdish forces and its allies managed to retake control of most of the region. By 2015, the city, although severely damaged, was free of ISIS control.
Recently, the United States government considered a full withdrawal of troops in the region. This terrified Canan and Karim because they still had loved ones in the region. They wanted to travel to Kobani with Hana so the child could meet her extended family and, perhaps, to arrange for relatives to travel back with them to America. All reports indicated it was currently safe to travel to the region.
The trip was arranged, but, at the last minute, a crisis at work prevented Karim from traveling abroad. He decided to cancel the trip, which devastated Canan. She had spoken to her mother and grandmother, and all were excited about the reunion. This was to be her grandmother and great-grandmother’s first time meeting their precious Hana. She insisted on taking the trip. Perhaps Karim could join them later. Karim protested vehemently, but his wife was an American woman and would not be dissuaded. They reached a compromise. Karim reluctantly consented to the trip, provided his family traveled through Syria accompanied by Karim’s long-time friend and a former soldier, who would act as a guide and a bodyguard, protecting Canan and Hana from harm.
As Karim Izady drove his family to Detroit Metropolitan Airport in Romulus, he could not shake the feeling of dread he felt from the moment he agreed to the trip. Even with his long-time friend, Avi Baran, meeting them in Syria and guarding them throughout their visit, he could not shake the feeling. He knew it was useless to protest. He enjoyed life in America and appreciated American-style freedom. That style included a strong, independent, and free-thinking wife. A part of him wished, for these moments only, they were a more traditional male-dominated Muslim couple.
They reached the international terminal. As usual, airport traffic was heavy, and Karim had to double-park to the left of a Metro Car parked at the curb. He exited the SUV, walked to the back of the vehicle, and opened the large tailgate. As he unloaded the luggage, Canan unbuckled Hana from her car seat in the back and carried her to Karim. Karim took one look at his beautiful wife and daughter and began to cry.
“I love you. Please don’t go,” he cried. Immediately, he retracted. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry—of course, you should go. Your mother and grandmother deserve to meet this beautiful child. I am just so worried, my love.”
“Everything will be fine, my sweet. Avi will take care of us. If conditions on the ground were too dangerous, Avi would have warned us not to come. You know how capable he is. Besides, you’ve heard the same reports I have. The city is much safer than it was. ISIS has been defeated, and America is pulling out of the region. That should give you comfort.”
“On the contrary, I would feel much better if America was not abandoning the region. ISIS, the Syrian government, even the Turks may become emboldened when America leaves. None of them have much love for the Kurds.”
“We Kurds are a tough bunch. America could not have freed Kobani without us,” she smiled. “Everything will be okay.”
“By the grace of Allah,” he looked to the sky in prayer.
“Come here, my love. Give me and your beautiful daughter a hug and help me get these bags to the counter.”
Karim did as his wife instructed, then waited while the attendant handled their luggage and checked in Canan and Hana. Karim bobbed his head back and forth to his double-parked vehicle; airport police might object to the unattended vehicle. The attendant completed his work, and Karim handed him a five-dollar bill. His eyes watered again as he gathered his wife and daughter in a fierce hug, one to last two weeks.
“Be safe . . . I love you,” he cried as they walked into the terminal. “Don’t go anywhere in Syria without Avi,” he called out. Canan turned to him, one last time, took Hana’s hand, and waved ‘bye-bye.’ She blew her husband a kiss, turned, and disappeared into the terminal.
Karim turned and walked to the car. “They will be fine . . . they will be fine . . . they will be fine . . . Allah will guide and protect them,” he muttered aloud. But an ominous voice in his head told him otherwise.
