The Kurdish Question in the New Era

As is well known, on February 27, 2025, Abdullah Öcalan announced that the PKK, which he had led for forty-eight years, had decided to lay down its arms. On July 11, a symbolic ceremony was held during which the weapons were burned. This marked the beginning of a new era in the Kurdish question—not only for Turkey but, indirectly, for the broader region. During the first week of August 2026, a draft law was submitted to the Grand National Assembly of Turkey (TBMM) to provide a legal framework for the peace process. 

The decision and the steps taken in this direction evoke mixed emotions. They are both encouraging and deeply saddening. Encouraging, because the guns will finally fall silent. Saddening, because nearly 60,000 people lost their lives, tens of thousands were imprisoned, and approximately $2.5 trillion was spent. And what is the outcome after all these decades? In the end, Kurds will once again be recognized as Kurds, and the public restrictions imposed on the Kurdish language will be lifted. 

Both the Kemalist paradigm and the armed Kurdish movement (PKK) were fundamentally flawed. Beyond these two erroneous approaches, however, there has always existed another paradigm capable of providing a just and equitable solution to the Kurdish question. Neither side was willing to engage with it. 

The paradigm I have advocated since 1992 is rooted in Islamic sources of reference. What guidance do the Qur’an and the practice of the Messenger of God (peace be upon him)—his Sunnah and Sirah—offer on this issue? Consider carefully the following verse:

“Among His signs is the creation of the heavens and the earth and the diversity of your languages and your colors. Surely in this are signs for those who possess knowledge.” (Qur’an 30:22)

Verse 22 of Surah al-Rum teaches that the diversity of human races, peoples, and ethnic communities is, like the heavens and the earth themselves, one of the signs (ayat) pointing to the existence of God. The earth, upon which humanity has spread, resembles a magnificent garden filled with an extraordinary variety of colors, languages, and other human distinctions. Just as countless forms of life have been created throughout the heavens and the earth—with humans, animals, and plants all inhabiting the same world (Qur’an 42:29)—so too has humanity been created with diverse languages and colors, while sharing the same material origin: the earth itself. 

Languages and colors, which distinguish one people from another and enable them to know and understand one another “li-ta’arafu” (Qur’an 49:13), are themselves divine signs bearing witness to God. Consequently, they provide no legitimate basis for discrimination. Differences of language and color exist solely for mutual recognition and understanding. In His wisdom, God created human communities in precisely this manner. 

Each linguistic or ethnic community possesses its own distinct characteristics, names, and cultural tendencies. Yet all of these are aspects of humanity’s material existence and can never serve as a legitimate justification for one group to claim superiority, domination, or hegemony over another. As the Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) declared in his Farewell Sermon:

“No white person has superiority over a black person, nor a black person over a white person; no Arab over a non-Arab, nor a non-Arab over an Arab. You are all the children of Adam, and Adam was created from dust.”

Likewise, when one Companion insulted another Muslim because of his mother’s dark skin, the Prophet responded:

“You still possess remnants of the Age of Ignorance (Jahiliyyah).”

The rights of every linguistic and ethnic community—including naturally formed peoples and tribes—are therefore equal. Rights are not distributed unequally, granting more to some and less to others. The renowned Qur’anic exegete Muhammad Husayn Tabataba’i, author of al-Mizan, even argues that dialects themselves constitute “signs of God.” Accordingly, every individual and every people possesses the right to speak and use their native language freely in every sphere of life. From this Qur’anic passage, three fundamental conclusions emerge:

1. Differences in language and color are part of God’s creation.
2. All human beings share the same ontological origin in the earth.
3. These differences are signs of God’s will, power, majesty, and wisdom. The creation of human diversity is no less a manifestation of divine wisdom than the creation of the heavens and the earth themselves (Qur’an 35:27–28). 

Human differences are immediately recognizable in such visible characteristics as language and skin color. Upon closer examination, however, significant distinctions also exist within the same linguistic or ethnic community—even among siblings in the same family. Eye color, hair, facial features, height, and voice all vary from person to person. These, too, are signs of God’s power and majesty, reflecting the profound wisdom embedded in creation. 

It is the responsibility of scholars to understand this wisdom and to explain to humanity that differences in language and color are manifestations of God’s will—not grounds for racism, chauvinism, nationalism, or conflicts fueled by ethnic and national ideologies. In the Islamic tradition, ʿulama (scholars) are those who investigate both the created universe and the human condition in the light of divine revelation and wisdom. Knowledge (ʿilm), acquired through reflection upon creation (ʿalam), elevates a person to the rank of a true scholar. This is why the Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) declared:

“The scholars are the heirs of the prophets.”

However, beyond the technical meaning of ʿalim as someone who has received specialized religious education, the verse may also be understood to refer more broadly to all those who recognize that the diversity of languages and colors is itself evidence of God’s existence and wisdom. When this awareness prevails, political leaders and intellectuals no longer regard linguistic and ethnic diversity as causes of conflict, discrimination, denial, or assimilation. Rather, they perceive such diversity as an expression of the beauty, richness, wisdom, and creative power inherent in creation, and they design social and political systems accordingly. 

The fact that modern nation-states, founded upon the principle of a single national identity, have subjected certain peoples to discrimination because of their ethnic distinctiveness and have prevented them from using their native languages demonstrates how far the Qur’anic worldview has receded from the intellectual horizon of contemporary Muslims. In reality, every community has the Islamic right to preserve its identity—provided that it does not regard this identity as a basis for superiority or privilege—and to use its mother tongue freely in every sphere of life, regardless of its linguistic richness or historical development. These rights constitute fundamental Islamic principles. 

If the Qur’an presents such a straightforward framework for resolving the issue, then what went wrong? Why did we endure forty-five years of low-intensity warfare and conflict? Why was so much blood shed, and why were so many resources squandered? 

In the end, we accepted what could have been acknowledged from the beginning: that Kurds should be recognized as Kurds and that public restrictions on the Kurdish language should be lifted. Let us not resort to explanations that attribute everything to “foreign powers” or “external actors.” Such arguments are insufficient. When an internal problem remains unresolved and is allowed to become chronic, outside powers inevitably intervene and exploit it for their own interests. Therefore, the root of the problem must first be sought within our own society rather than abroad. Naturally, the issue is also closely connected to the region’s recent history. 

At the beginning of the twentieth century, as the Islamic world was largely reshaped by Britain and France, the regions inhabited predominantly by Kurds entered a period of profound instability. The Kurdish question inevitably became a source of tension not only for the Kurds themselves but also for the other peoples of the region. This outcome could hardly have been otherwise. To understand both the nature of the injustice suffered and the proper diagnosis of the problem, three fundamental considerations must be kept in mind. 

First, the region where Kurds have historically lived constitutes an integral part of Dar al-Islam, and the Kurds are members of the Ummah of Muhammad (peace be upon him). There is not the slightest difference between Kurds and other Muslims; the only criterion of superiority recognized in Islam is taqwa (God-consciousness). 

Second, both the ideal principles derived from Islam’s primary sources and the historical experience accumulated over fifteen centuries demonstrate that the Kurdish question—as well as other comparable social and political issues—can be resolved within the framework of Islam. Such a solution is not only possible but also straightforward. 

From an Islamic perspective, every people possesses four fundamental collective rights:

1. The right to make their identity visible and publicly recognized.
2. The right to speak, learn, and receive education in their native language.
3. The right to preserve and practice their customs and traditions.
4. If they are socioeconomically disadvantaged compared to other regions, the right to benefit from positive discrimination in economic policy and public investment until a reasonable level of welfare and opportunity has been achieved.

Unfortunately, neither Islamists drawn from different ethnic communities nor religiously observant Kurds have exercised meaningful influence over either the formulation of the problem or its solution. Because a genuine and realistic solution has never been pursued, political organizations and armed groups claiming to represent the Kurdish people have repeatedly been exploited by regional and global powers—as occurred most recently in Syria. Time and again, just as they believed they were on the verge of achieving their aspirations, they were ultimately abandoned by those same external actors. 

For some time now, discussions have persisted about establishing a “Kurdish state” aligned with the geostrategic interests of the United States and Israel in the region. According to the founding ideology of the PYD, such a state would inevitably be secular—indeed, radically modern in its social design, to the point of organizing an army composed of women. Yet, in essence, it would simply become the 57th nation-state added to the fifty-six already existing in the region. Just as two wrongs do not make a right, a fifty-seventh flawed nation-state cannot rectify the failures of the previous fifty-six. A failed model should not be repeated. 

Under the pretext of combating the manufactured “ISIS threat”—Donald Trump himself claimed that ISIS had been created during the Obama administration—the Syrian Democratic Forces (SDF), supported by the CIA and Mossad, came to control roughly one-third of Syria. Although approximately 85 percent of the SDF consisted of Arabs, it controlled the country’s most fertile agricultural lands, major water resources, the Tishrin Dam, and oil-rich areas such as Raqqa and Deir ez-Zor, selling Syria’s oil to the central government. 

Between 2014 and 2024, the United States, assuming that Bashar al-Assad would eventually fall from power, sought at minimum to secure control over one-third of Syria by bringing Arabs and Kurds together under a common military structure. The Arab-Kurdish alliance embodied in the SDF was, in fact, an American project. 

The tragedy lay elsewhere. The United States reportedly paid $480 per fighter participating in operations against ISIS and $18,000 for every Kurdish fighter killed in combat, with these funds ultimately coming from Syria’s own oil revenues. This explains why Kurdish officials frequently spoke of an army numbering 100,000 to 130,000 personnel. The synthetic Kurdish entity envisioned under these arrangements was intended to function as the West’s regional outpost—a political and ideological extension representing Western values rather than the Islamic traditions of Arab, Iranian, or Turkish societies.

Yet the irony was profound. While the PYD claimed to be building a Western-style democracy, it consistently placed organizational interests above democratic principles. More than 250,000 Kurds who opposed the PYD’s governance were forced into exile in the Kurdistan Region of Iraq, a fact that received little international attention. 

The eventual separation between the Kurdish and Arab components of the SDF was almost inevitable. After 2025, the Damascus government assumed responsibility for the fight against ISIS. Arab tribes became increasingly dissatisfied because they received only a limited share of oil revenues, strategic decisions continued to be dictated by Qandil, and the PYD merely transmitted these decisions to local Arab communities. Moreover, the PYD’s Marxist ideological background, together with policies such as compulsory military service and secular education, conflicted sharply with the traditional values of the tribal population.

When Ahmed al-Sharaa, who succeeded Bashar al-Assad, assured the Arab tribes, “This land belongs to you, and I will include you in the new administration,” they abandoned the SDF. At that point, the United States no longer needed either the Kurds or the major Arab tribes because al-Sharaa had declared his willingness to cooperate with both the United States and Israel. Consequently, Washington chose al-Sharaa over the Kurdish leadership. Furthermore, he pledged to confront Hezbollah, the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps, ISIS, and Hamas, while openly declaring that Syria and Israel shared common enemies. 

There were, in my view, three principal reasons why Kurdish actors accepted 

American support:

First, ISIS revived practices such as slavery and the sale of Yazidi women in public markets, hanging price tags denominated in U.S. dollars around their necks. These practices bore no meaningful relationship to the objectives, legal reasoning, or ethical framework found in either the Qur’an or the Sunnah. As ISIS advanced toward Kobani, it was unrealistic to expect the PYD’s military commander, Mazloum Abdi, to reject American assistance. At the same time, Western governments shaped public opinion by conveying a simple message to the Kurds: “If you do not join the fight against ISIS, this will be your fate.”

Second, Kurdish nationalist circles that had long maintained close political ties with the United States and Israel were already psychologically and politically prepared for such cooperation. 

Third, even had they wished to reject cooperation, the Kurds simply lacked the military and political capacity to resist either the United States or Israel. 

At the same time, the governments of Turkey, Iraq, Syria, and Iran consistently ignored legitimate and reasonable Kurdish demands. In many respects, the Kurds turned toward the United States and Israel like a drowning person grasping at a snake—seeking assistance wherever it seemed available. 

Meanwhile, accusations by regional governments that the Kurds were seeking to establish a “Second Israel” were, in practice, both misleading and unjust. If one were to ask which countries in the region most closely resemble Israel in terms of their strategic alignment, the ranking would look quite different. In my view, Azerbaijan would rank first, followed by Jordan, the United Arab Emirates, Egypt, and Saudi Arabia. 

If this assessment is accepted, then judging Kurdish political actors by a different standard than these states is neither more nor less legitimate. The same criteria should apply to all. 

After assuming power with the backing of the United States and Israel, Hay’at Tahrir al-Sham (HTS) and its leader Ahmed al-Sharaa had a historic opportunity to build a new Syrian political model by bringing together the country’s diverse religious, sectarian, and ethnic communities under a comprehensive constitutional agreement. Instead, they chose not to pursue this path. By refusing to grant the Kurds even a modest form of local autonomy within their own regions, they alienated not only secular Kurdish nationalists but also religiously observant Kurds, pushing many of them toward closer relations with Israel.

At the very least, the new government could have abandoned the designation “Syrian Arab Republic” in favor of the more inclusive “Republic of Syria.” While HTS and the PYD treated one another with considerable hostility, both nevertheless operated under American patronage. Ironically, Damascus was prepared to relinquish the Golan Heights and additional territory to Israel, yet was unwilling to tolerate even limited Kurdish self-government. 

Following Washington’s abandonment of its Kurdish allies, history once again demonstrated that great powers cannot be relied upon indefinitely. Modern Kurdish history is filled with painful examples of this recurring pattern.

When the Republic of Mahabad, established by Qazi Muhammad in 1946, collapsed, the United States did nothing. In 1975, Mullah Mustafa Barzani was abandoned by Washington and forced into exile in the Soviet Union. During the September 2017 independence referendum in the Kurdistan Region of Iraq, despite 92.7 percent of voters supporting independence, the United States opposed the outcome. Likewise, America’s abandonment of the Kurds in 2025represented not a new policy but the continuation of a long-established pattern.

Abdullah Öcalan himself has repeatedly warned Kurds against placing their trust in either the United States or Israel. According to Öcalan:

“The fate of the Kurds who place their trust in America will be Gaza.”

Mazloum Abdi, who traveled in American military helicopters to negotiate with Ahmed al-Sharaa under U.S. protection, believed that Washington would ultimately favor the Kurds over the governments of the region. He proved profoundly mistaken. Events unfolded exactly as Öcalan had predicted.

On January 6, 2026, the HTS-led Syrian government reportedly reached an agreement with Israel in Paris accepting Israeli control over the Golan Heights, after which the territory was removed from official Syrian maps. The very next day, al-Sharaa launched military operations against the Kurdish neighborhoods of Sheikh Maqsoud and Ashrafiyah in Aleppo. As Kurdish forces waited for American intervention, U.S. envoy Tom Barrack reportedly told them:

“We cannot protect you forever.”

Thus, once again, the Kurds found themselves abandoned by the very power upon which they had relied. 

Yet the PYD had rendered substantial services to the United States. It had:

• Lost approximately 12,000 fighters in the war against ISIS;
• Committed itself to combating Islamist movements throughout the Middle East;
• Sought to construct a secular sociopolitical model compatible with Western preferences while distancing Kurdish society from its Islamic heritage; and
• Refrained from criticizing Israel’s military campaign in Gaza despite receiving extensive American support. 

Why, then, did the United States ultimately distance itself from the PYD? Was it because of the organization’s Marxist ideology? No. The decisive factor was far simpler: Washington concluded that cooperation with Turkey and HTS better served its strategic interests.

This episode illustrates a broader principle of international politics:

Whenever the requirements of realpolitik become sufficiently compelling, they override even the ideological commitments of a state’s closest allies.

While all of these developments were unfolding in Syria, a new political process was simultaneously beginning in Turkey between the Turkish state and Abdullah Öcalan, the imprisoned leader of the PKK.