The Declining Kurds

Until recently, the Kurds seemed largely on the ascent. The Kurdistan Regional Government (KRG) in Northern Iraq was thriving as a semi-autonomous, de facto state in a federal relationship with Iraq under ultimate US military protection. The Kurdistan Workers Party (PKK) in Turkey maintained a long-time military structure and continued to wage war against the Turkish government in pursuit of constitutional Kurdish rights as Kurds in Turkey. The Syrian Kurds seemed to be prospering as Rojava or the Democratic Autonomous Administration of North and East Syria (DAANES) under ultimate U.S. protections in return for keeping a lid on a revival of ISIS. Even the Iranian Kurds were being mentioned as US and Israeli allies against the Islamic Republic of Iran. Suddenly all this changed. The Kurds now seem in decline. What happened?

            The KRG has been unable to form a new government despite elections that were held almost two years ago on October 20, 2024. The KRG legislature is paralyzed, having met only once since the inconclusive election on December 3, 2024, a mere procedural affair that began their salaries. The legislature has no elected leadership or committee system. In actual practice, any important decisions are taken by the two long-time, main parties, the Barzani-led Kurdistan Democratic Party (KDP) and Talabani-led Patriotic Union of Kurdistan (PUK). The KRG merely registers these decisions. Each party maintains its own intelligence, security and counter-terrorism services, with no unifying structure between them. The previous Barzani-KDP led government continues to govern, concluding agreements and issuing decisions carrying important fiscal consequences. It has not accepted a caretaker designation that would confine it to merely day-to-day affairs. Although largely politics as usual, important disputes over fiscal affairs, oil allocations, and security matters, among others, continue to fester between Baghdad and Erbil.

US troops—the ultimate protectors of the KRG—are in the process of withdrawing from northern Iraq as their mission against ISIS is supposedly successfully accomplished. The final and supposedly complete withdrawal is scheduled for the end of this September. One not only ponders what this entails for the hard pressed KRG, but also how wise this for the United States given the continuing US war against neighboring Iran. Thus, conceivably some US presence will remain.

As fallout from the US-Israeli War against Iran, the Islamic Republic has attacked many parts of the northern Iraq with seeming impunity in order to prevent Iranian Kurds sheltering there from potentially attacking Iran in support of the United States. However, the divided Iranian Kurds calculated they were too weak to take up the US-Israeli offer. Nevertheless, they still are bringing down upon themselves preemptive Iranian attacks and unwarranted criticisms from US president Donald J. Trump.

As part of all this, Tehran was also probably responsible for an attack on the office of KRG Prime Minister Masrour Barzani and a resting house belonging to one of the KDP’s main intelligence officials in Erbil on August 17, 2026. The Iranian attacks occurred at night when no one was present, so there were no fatalities. The motive appears to be that Iran is trying to send a message to the KRG that armed Iranian Kurdish groups in the region must be completely removed from northern Iraq as the Mujahedin-e Khalq (MEK), an Iranian, leftist Islamic opposition group was many years earlier to Albania. Reminiscent of earlier KDP betrayals of Iranian Kurdish leaders in their grasp in the 1960s, KDP sources also claim that Iran again has demanded the handover of senior Iranian Kurdish leaders to their certain death. However, KDP sources have rejected any such handover for now at least.

In Turkey, the so-called peace process that formally began in October 2024 between the government and the PKK is looking more like a PKK surrender. Turkey frames the process as little more than PKK disarmament and dissolution, while the PKK claimed that it sought constitutional rights as Kurds and the release of its incarcerated leader Abdullah (Apo). The two sides appeared to be inhabiting two different universes, while the entire process appeared interminably slow. Finally, on August 5, 2026, the long-anticipated framework law termed a “Bill for Strengthening National Solidarity and Social Integration” was finally released.

Mustafa Karasu, a leading member of the Executive Council of the Kurdistan Communities Union (KCK)—another name for the supposedly abolished PKK—presented the PKK’s largely negative assessment: “The fact that it [the framework law] does not [even] mention the Kurdish issue—and that it is not a law that sets forth a solution to the Kurdish issue or reveals the Kurdish reality—is, of course, a significant shortcoming.” Continuing, the PKK leader explained, “In particular, the fact that this law does not use the term “Kurd” at all, does not make any reference to or define future steps to be taken, and does not mention democratization is crucial.” In addition, “Framing the problem solely in terms of disarmament is truly mistaken. If we adopt such a one-sided, one-dimensional approach now, inadequate approaches to the root causes may emerge later.”

 Furthermore, “Reber Apo’s [Ocalan] role is not specified in the law is truly a shortcoming. If Reber Apo is not at the center of this effort—if he does not play a role in managing and guiding this process—it will be impossible to implement what is stipulated in the law. Let’s be clear: a law without Reber Apo’s involvement will remain a dead piece of paper. This needs to be emphasized in particular.”

 Despite others’ attempts to put a brave face on it as “a good start to lay the groundwork for future dialogue and the legal amendments needed to resolve the century-long Kurdish problem,” the long-anticipated framework law amounted to little more than a humiliating PKK capitulation. Turkey’s only concessions were limited to minor PKK members and supporters accused or convicted being reintegrated into civilian life. Even this was predicated on the complete disarming of the PKK as certified by the Turkish government. Persons would then have six months to apply for a parole lasting five or ten years, depending on whether their sentence was for less or more then fifteen years. Any persons accused of “intentional homicide committed within the framework of organizational activities,” as well as of “crimes committed before 1 June 2025 that require life imprisonment or aggravated life imprisonment” were excluded from even applying for parole.

Abdullah Ocalan was prominently excluded from any mention. Even more debilitating, the bill made no mention of promoting Kurdish constitutional, political, or language rights. Furthermore, the framework law made no mention of ending the trusteeship system of removing Kurdish officials elected as mayors. Finally, there was no guarantee that any further concessions would follow. The so-called peace process was concluded on grounds that amounted to little more than a virtual PKK surrender.

Given its apparent military victory, the Turkish government had no immediate incentive to offer anything more. Indeed, given the hopes aroused, but meager results achieved, it was possible that among the Kurds Ocalan himself would be discredited, the PKK divided, and Erdogan elected for yet another presidential term with crucial pro-Kurdish DEM support given its role in the peace process. Even those minor PKK members eligible for parole were given no guarantees once they had surrendered their arms and returned to civilian life. It would be relatively easy for the government to rearrest them on any manufactured excuse. The once formidable PKK now seemed to be in decline and on very shaky grounds.

The fate of Rojava or the Democratic Autonomous Administration of North and East Syria (DAANES) is arguably the most prominent example of the Kurdish decline. Once held as a brilliant example of Kurdish self-government, its sudden collapse in 2026 after 14 years of existence was striking, but predictable. What happened? The United States decided to pull its support in favor of Syria’s new ruler Ahmed al-Sharaa who understandably sought to reunite his country following his sudden victory over Bashir al-Assad. The US switch also greatly favored Turkey who feared and opposed a semi-autonomous Syrian Kurdish state on its southern border.

Thus, the situation dramatically altered on January 18, 2026, when the Syrian army suddenly surged into Kurdish-held towns along the Euphrates and to the east of that river. Kurdish forces were dislodged from territory they had effectively held for more than a decade. The lightening advance was reminiscent of al-Sharaa’s sudden overthrow of Assad in December 2024. In the present case, it was facilitated by Arab forces previously loyal to the pro-Kurdish Syrian Defense Forces (SDF) led by Mazlum Abdi suddenly switching their allegiance to the new Syrian government. Kurdish claims that their democratic peace was more appealing to non-Kurds turned hollow.

Although the ultimate outcome remains to be completely decided and the Syrian Kurds appear headed for a more positive position than the misery they suffered from under the Assad regime, Rojava’s sudden collapse resembled a Shakespearean tragedy. Thus, on August 25, 2026, the Syrian Kurdish leader Mazloum Abdi held a press conference in Damascus to declare the dissolution of the SDF as an independent military force and its phased integration into the Syrian government and military. Mazloum Abdi gave up trying to remain among the Kurds in northeastern Syria and agreed to move to Damascus where the Syrian government would presumably be able to keep a closer eye on him. Supposedly, he would become an adviser to Sharaa, ostensibly on Kurdish affairs. The remaining four SDF brigades would be integrated into the Syrian military as would the women’s Kurdish Protection Units (YPJ). Kurdish language instruction as elective courses will take place for two hours per week in Kurdish majority areas. This was a far cry from its earlier, much more important position in Rojava. The so-called ajanib (foreigners) and maktoumeen (unregistered or concealed) who were in effect stateless Syrian Kurds under the former Assad regime were now recognized as an “essential and authentic” part of the Syrian people.

Although fleeting and now gone, the Rojava project had been a striking symbol of Kurdish ascent, but now Kurdish decline. It had proven more a brief Paris Commune than a much longer lasting 70-year long October Revolution.

Michael M. Gunter is a professor of political science at Tennessee Tech University. He is the co-author with Joost Jongerden of the newly published Abdullah Ocalan and the Making of the PKK: A Political Biography (London and New York: Routledge, 2027); and author of the earlier The Kurds: A Divided Nation in Search of a State, 3^rd ed. (Princeton: Markus Wiener Publishers, 2019).