In 1978, a handful of Kurdish political science students gathered in an obscure village in Turkey’s southeast, together founding a militant Marxist-Leninist party. A half-century on, the Kurdistan Workers’ Party (PKK) and its affiliates have controlled territory from Iran’s remote Zagros Mountains, through the Iraqi desert to ISIS’s erstwhile Syrian capital Raqqa. The PKK’s affiliates have won global influence and sympathy through their famed, women-led struggle against ISIS, even as the PKK itself remains a listed terror organisation thanks to its ongoing conflict with Turkey — itself a key Nato ally.
The PKK’s senior leadership recently gathered in the cave networks where they shelter from ceaseless Turkish airstrikes, and in a sombre-looking conference proposed an end to the conflict which has cost a reported 40,000 lives. Most of the dead were Kurdish civilians killed by Turkey’s brutal counter-insurgency, a fact often missed when that grim statistic is trotted out. And, certainly, Ankara’s drone technology and growing geopolitical clout have tipped the balance against the PKK, with the group’s embattled, exiled leaders hardly negotiating from a place of strength.
Yet rumours of the PKK’s demise are often greatly exaggerated. The sophisticated, sprawling Kurdish revolutionary movement is a many-headed hydra, and a step back for the guerrilla forces stationed in the Iraqi mountains may well come with gains elsewhere across Kurdish-majority regions in Turkey, Syria and Iran. Whether the PKK will actually down arms remains an open question. Whatever happens next, Kurdistan remains a crucial geopolitical battleground, and the PKK’s movement will continue to play a crucial role in a conflict stretching from Gaza to Tehran and beyond.
“Rumours of the PKK’s demise are often greatly exaggerated.”
It’s hard to reconcile familiar images of gleaming Mediterranean holiday resorts — with their rows of equally gleaming “Turkey teeth” — to the savage guerrilla warfare at the far end of Anatolia. But the violence is very real. The West chooses to see Turkey as a flawed but basically functional parliamentary democracy. But with tens of thousands of Kurdish politicians, MPs, mayors and activists detained in recent years, this definition seems like a weak excuse to avoid provoking a deeply authoritarian ally.
As for the PKK itself, the group is often portrayed as an anachronistic throwback to a vanished era of anti-colonial struggle, beginning its fight for an independent, socialist Kurdish state “late” in the 20th century. Yet the group has moved with the times. The Nineties were a period of deep crisis, as the party reckoned with the USSR’s collapse as a potential sponsor of Kurdish national aspirations. The broader ideological delegitimisation of communism did not help either. These existential challenges were compounded by the 1999 capture of the PKK’s political and intellectual figurehead Abdullah Öcalan, who has remained detained ever since on the prison island Imrali, where his almost total isolation inspires frequent comparison with Nelson Mandela.
Reacting to these developments, Öcalan came to view both communist and capitalist nation states as inherently repressive — a message reiterated by banners adorning the PKK’s subterranean disarmament conference. Instead, Öcalan now advocates for a decentralised federation based on municipal governance, minority representation, women’s autonomy, and ecology. This unexpected departure from communist and nationalist orthodoxy almost tore his party apart. During a period of reformation lasting from 1999 until 2003, the PKK briefly changed its name, sought to reorganise into an unarmed, civil and political federation, and entered into secret negotiations with Ankara. None of these steps caused the PKK to collapse, and indeed are effectively being repeated in this latest détente.
Indeed, these internal upheavals helped the PKK refind its strength, diversifying its tactics and building up ever-broader support in Kurdish civil society. Parties sympathetic to Öcalan’s vision made unprecedented gains in Turkey’s parliament, alongside renewed Turkey-PKK peace talks. At the same time, the revolutionary Kurdish movement achieved global fame. ISIS were sweeping through Iraq and Syria, and only the PKK stood in their way, fending off the jihadist genocide of the Yazidis and leading thousands of the Kurdish-speaking religious minority to safety — all in unexpected battlefield coordination with the US. The PKK’s Syrian affiliates went further still, winning the support of a US-led “Global Coalition to Defeat ISIS”, as its all-female Kurdish units spearheaded a successful, years-long campaign to eradicate the caliphate.
Millions of people now lived under PKK-inspired rule in and around Syrian Kurdistan, guarded by the presence of US troops. Tens of thousands of women took up arms and many more joined a civil-society revolution, as Kurds celebrated unprecedented freedoms and local communities explored self-governance amid the chaos of the Syrian civil war. Öcalan must have rubbed his eyes to see his utopian vision taking hold in a growing zone of PKK influence reaching almost to the Mediterranean.
Almost, but not quite. As ISIS were defeated, Turkey reacted violently to the Kurdish movement’s domestic, cross-border and international gains. Peace talks foundered amid bitter and renewed civil conflict in Turkey, while cross-border military operations against Syrian Kurdish regions killed hundreds and displaced hundreds of thousands more. Syrian Kurds’ dreams of international recognition for their embattled enclave vanished. Yet as this potted history shows, the PKK’s story is one of dogged survival and organisational flexibility, adapting its tactics and even its ideology to respond to challenges of the sort which have crushed many other would-be revolutionary movements. The latest disarmament announcement is equally part of this continued, strategic evolution.
For Recep Tayyip Erdoğan also has problems of his own. Turkey is confronting both Israel and Iran, putting Ankara on an uncomfortable collision course with both of the Middle East’s power blocs. These tensions have reached boiling point following the unexpected December 2024 ouster of Syrian dictator Bashar al-Assad by militant Islamist forces with deep and growing ties to Ankara. Iran was the big loser as Turkey expanded its influence in Syria, while Israel will not countenance the presence of Turkish military bases and former al-Qaeda affiliates near its own, growing zone of occupation in southern Syria.
Meanwhile, the PKK’s Syrian affiliates continue to control a third of the country’s territory, its oil wealth, and its largest single armed force in the Syrian Democratic Forces (SDF). The US-trained, highly-effective SDF guards tens of thousands of ISIS affiliates on behalf of its Western allies, and Americans have no desire to see the slightly-less-radical Islamists who now rule Damascus take control of these facilities. If Turkey and Syria’s jihadist-turned-statesman Ahmed al-Sharaa want the Western powers to continue their rapid normalisation of the new regime, they would be well advised to continue their present strategy and avoid picking a fight with the SDF. Rather, heavy US pressure has brought about a tentative peace deal between the SDF and Damascus, in tandem with the PKK-Ankara agreement. For now, Turkish airstrikes against Syrian Kurdish regions have abated.
Syrian Kurdish leaders are therefore quietly confident, issuing maximalist demands aimed at preserving their Kurdish-led, multiethnic federation and its military wing, even as they prepare for the potential evacuation of PKK-trained military commanders from Syria and fret over a future, unwanted clash with Damascus. Some degree of Syrian Kurdish autonomy will certainly be preserved, though how far this will resemble Öcalan’s radical, direct-democratic vision is another question.
Across the border, it is less clear what the PKK will get from its own deal with Ankara — beyond a mooted amnesty for the majority of its guerrilla fighters and transfer to a nominally safe third country for senior commanders. A close listen to the “disarmament” speech makes it clear the PKK will only down weapons if their demands are met, including Öcalan’s release as a non-negotiable first step. Ankara must therefore take the next step: a genuine, internationally monitored amnesty would be a good place to start.
There are many hurdles before a peaceful transition, each presenting an opportunity for both the PKK and Turkey to abandon the process once again. Ankara has over 100 military bases deep in Iraqi Kurdish territory, waypoints for its war against the PKK. This little-known, de facto occupation is linked to Turkey’s so-called “Development Road”. A $17-billion project, it will link Baghdad to Europe via Iraqi Kurdistan and Turkey, offering a third way beyond both the Houthi-blockaded Red Sea and a proposed alternative route running from India to Europe through the United Arab Emirates, Saudi Arabia and Israel, but unacceptably bypassing Turkey. As Turkey seeks to align itself as a key regional partner, therefore, Ankara will be loath to give up its Iraqi beachhead in the name of a peace deal. As of today, Turkish airstrikes continue to hit PKK’s positions in Iraqi Kurdistan.
Meanwhile, battle-hardened PKK veterans may wonder if their sacrifices are justified by Kurdish gains in the Turkish parliament or Syria, and continue their fight under yet another name. Intriguingly, the 1999-2004 ceasefire period saw the PKK switch focus from its long-term battle against Turkey to back its Iranian Kurdish affiliates targeting the no-less repressive Iranian regime. Today, Israel’s obliteration of the Iranian-led “Axis of Resistance” raises the possibility of future destabilisation in the Islamic Republic. The PKK, or its successor organisations, might well be drawn into any such future conflict. Meanwhile, Israel has been making overtures to the Syrian Kurds, at the risk of alienating their Arab allies and international supporters.
Kurdistan may remain formally divided between Turkey, Iran, Iraq and Syria, but it lies at an increasingly crucial geostrategic crossroads — not only between the Middle East’s warring power blocs, but also on routes for infrastructure, oil and even water. Those weary, grey-haired Kurdish militants never completed their political scientific degrees, but they have learned valuable lessons across 50 years of conflict. As state power declines, drone technology becomes cheaper, and resources become scarcer right across the world, canny non-state armed groups like the PKK and the Houthis can and will play an increasing role over the coming decades. The PKK may be changing strategies once again, but its long struggle is far from over.
