Kurds are not for rent. Why are we asking the wrong questions in connection with the invasion of Iran?

"Thousands of Kurdish fighters have launched a ground operation in Iran," stated last week the Israeli television channel i24 news, and the report quickly spread to other media. Some of them even claimed that the Iraqi-Iranian border had already been crossed. While Kurdish commentators and analysts began to dispute the unverified information with direct testimonies and sources from the region, the media world was flooded with the popular topic " Who are the Kurds."

More important than the question of Kurdish involvement in "another war in the Middle East" is how they are framed, reduced, and taken out of context in debates.

Besides "historical windows" and profiles of a heterogeneous group most often portrayed and reduced to the slogan "the largest nation without a state," headlines of analyses and comments also included suggestions and lessons about what Kurds should do or, conversely, why they should not get involved in the "dangerous game." Few of them actually tried to adopt the perspective of Kurds, quote Kurdish voices, or at least distinguish which Kurdish actors are involved in each case. 

The sudden media interest in Kurds mirrored the discourse of the United States, specifically Donald Trump. He first stated that "a Kurdish invasion from Iraq into Iran would be amazing if the Kurds wanted it," only to almost grotesquely reverse: "I don't want the Kurds to get involved in a war that is already complicated enough. They were ready and wanted to do it, but I told them not to get involved." 

Such statements raise the question of who and why speaks for the Kurds and who has the ambitions to decide for them. Moreover, this framing overlooks the real security consequences of media speculation. The autonomous Kurdish region in Iraq (KRI) has been targeted by Iranian attacks since the beginning of the conflict. Despite Kurdish political representatives repeatedly refusing to participate in the war, these attacks have continued to intensify. 

Paths to independence

The abbreviation "the largest nation without a state" creates a false assumption that the main goal of Kurds is necessarily the creation of their own state—and also presumes that only when they "gain" a nation-state will they be considered legitimate geopolitical actors. Iranian Kurds, estimated between 9 and 15 million, are today politically represented by several organizations with very different ambitions. Many of them operate as guerrilla exile structures based in Iraqi Kurdistan, where they were forced to retreat during the rule of Shah Mohammad Reza Pahlavi (1941–1979). 

The monarchist regime supported by the West was extremely repressive towards ethnic minorities and systematically limited their political and cultural rights. It was precisely the Shah who was behind the destruction of the first independent republic in Kurdish history, the Mahabad Republic. It was established in 1946 in the northwest of the country on the border with Azerbaijan, with support—and essentially de facto dependence—on the Soviet Union. After the Soviets withdrew after less than a year, the small entity disappeared, but it still remains an important symbol of Kurdish aspirations for independence. 

Similarly, the Kurdish self-governing experiment immediately after the Islamic Revolution was able to resist briefly. The Mahabad Declaration of 1979 was part of a broader workers' struggle and called for a federal arrangement of Iran. Its suppression this time was carried out by the regime of Ayatollah Khomeini, laying the groundwork for a long-term hostile relationship between the Islamic Republic and Iranian Kurds.

Kurds in Iran are the second largest ethnic group after the Azaris, and unlike the Shia majority, they are predominantly Sunni. They have long faced restrictions on linguistic and cultural rights and are also among the most organized opposition, which is reflected in the disproportionately high number of Kurdish political prisoners. Nevertheless, it was precisely Kurdish provinces from where the protests "Women, Life, Freedom" spread across the country after the death of Mahsa Jina Amini in 2022.

Most Kurdish organizations operating from Iraqi Kurdistan do not seek to create an independent nation-state. Their goal is rather decentralization or some form of autonomy. One option is similar to the model of Iraqi Kurdistan (KRI), a federal region with its own government (KRG), parliament, and army, enshrined in the Iraqi constitution. The other is inspired by the project of democratic confederalism modeled after the autonomous region known as DAANES (Autonomous Democratic Area of Northeastern Syria) in Syrian Kurdistan.

Choose a side

These two models are also represented by the strongest organizations of Iranian Kurds, the Kurdistan Free Life Party (PJAK) and the Democratic Party of Iranian Kurdistan (KDPI or PDKI). Currently the most influential of them, PJAK, was founded in 2004 as the Iranian branch of the PKK (Kurdistan Workers' Party). Its roots go back to mobilization after the arrest of Abdullah Öcalan in 1999. The PKK has been engaged in an armed conflict with the Turkish state since 1984. Over time, it abandoned the idea of a nation-state in favor of a decentralized, pluralistic model of democratic confederalism. Today, it is designated as a terrorist organization by Turkey, the US, and the EU. 

Despite this, the United States formed a pragmatic alliance with PJAK between 2013 and 2017 in the fight against ISIS—despite sharing ideological, organizational, and personnel ties with the PKK. Today, however, PJAK leaders have rejected speculation that they will join the American side, and commander Mazloum Haftan stated that the movement adopts a third line: "We will neither be the side that attacks Iran nor the side that defends the current regime. Our goal is a democratic and decentralized Iran that guarantees the right to self-determination for Kurds and other nations."

The second political trajectory is represented by the Democratic Party of Iranian Kurdistan (KDPI or PDKI). Its founder, cleric Qazi Muhammad, was behind the Mahabad Republic in 1946, and the party was involved in the Mahabad Declaration of 1979. Its armed wing—called Peshmerga (Kurdish for "those who fight to the death")—was led from the beginning by Mustafa Barzani, and the party is often ideologically and organizationally aligned with the KDP in Iraq, which the Barzani clan still controls. Compared to PJAK, it has stronger national aspirations.

Despite differences, PJAK, KDPI, and four smaller parties—the Kurdistan Freedom Party (PAK), Komala Workers, Komala Kurdistan, and Chabat—joined in a historic initiative and shortly before the US-Israeli invasion announced coordination of their steps within the Coalition of Political Forces of Iranian Kurdistan. This agreement was preceded by a series of negotiations during protests at the beginning of the year, especially in Kurdish provinces in northwest Iran—referred to as Rojhelat (East). 

The aim of cooperation among these parties is, besides overthrowing the Islamic Republic, primarily to fulfill the Kurdish people's right to self-determination and to establish a democratic institutional framework based on Kurdish political will. Although currently mostly at a political and declarative level and not unifying military structures, it is an important step toward coordinating Kurdish opposition. However, its fragile unity is already being undermined by American and Israeli interference—smaller parties like Chabat and PAK are open to the possibility of direct involvement in fighting, which would allow them to return home and " which they have waited for years."

No friends, only mountains

"The only friends of the Kurds are the mountains," says a well-known Kurdish saying, which, besides the literal meaning—mountain terrain providing refuge for civilians and partisans—refers to the long history of shifting alliances and repeated disappointments in the relationships of Kurdish political movements with great powers. Reports of alleged new arming of Iranian Kurds by U.S. secret services against Tehran—preceding false information about a ground operation launched by Iraqi Kurds—overlook the fact that arms supplies, indirect support, and pressure for involvement in foreign interests have a long history in the region. 

One of the most prominent moments of the fragile alliance between the West and the Kurds was the support for a series of uprisings (Raperîn) against Saddam Hussein's Baathist regime in Iraq in 1991, involving both Kurdish and Shia groups. Washington encouraged the rebels and promised support—only to leave them to face repression by the regime. The uprising laid the groundwork for future Kurdish semi-autonomy in Iraq, but also followed a series of American betrayals, which many commentators and experts describe as ongoing betrayal, most recently during the withdrawal of American support for Kurdish forces in Syria in favor of the Damascus government.

The current restraint of Iranian Kurdish organizations cannot be explained solely by fear of further betrayal by Washington. The coalition of political forces of Iranian Kurdistan does not act in a vacuum and considers many other geopolitical factors in its decisions. One of the most important is the fragile position of the Kurdish region in Iraq (KRI), from whose territory most of these organizations operate. Regional conflict could significantly threaten regional autonomy— not only through Iranian attacks on U.S. bases in the area but also through the risk of broader destabilization that could destroy its very political existence. 

Fragile autonomy

The federal region of Iraqi Kurdistan was de facto established after the Kurdish uprising in 1991, while Baghdad officially recognized it only after the U.S. invasion of Iraq in 2005. The Autonomous Region of Kurdistan (KRG) has its own parliament, government, and armed forces (Peshmerga), and manages most internal affairs of the region, including security, economy, and education. 

The region's political system has been primarily associated since the beginning with two dominant clans: the Barzani family and its ruling Kurdistan Democratic Party (KDP), and the Talabani family with the Patriotic Union of Kurdistan (PUK). While the KDP has represented Iraqi Kurdish interests since the 1940s (formally established in exile during the Mahabad Republic), the PUK emerged in the 1970s as an opposition force to the KDP. Despite historical rivalry, both sides united after 1991 against Saddam's regime, and today their cooperation is more pragmatic than openly competitive. 

The Kurdish region in Iraq (KRI) also does not stand in direct opposition to the Iranian Islamic Republic. Relations between Kurdish political elites and Tehran have long been pragmatic, dating back to the Iran-Iraq war (1980–1988). During that time, Kurdish units exploited the weakening of Saddam's regime and, with Iranian support, captured Halabja, which was later hit by one of the worst chemical attacks in modern history and the genocidal campaign of al-Anfal. During this campaign, an estimated up to 100,000 Iraqi Kurds were massacred. Iran also served as a refuge for tens of thousands of Kurdish refugees fleeing genocide. Many current leaders grew up in Iranian exile, still have families in Iran, and speak Persian fluently. 

The idea that Iranian and Iraqi Kurds can simply and unambiguously "remain neutral" in the current geopolitical situation is as misleading as the notion that they are merely tools of great powers. Kurdish political structures operate under strong pressures and within very limited maneuvering space. Even major world leaders often have only limited options to oppose Washington. Nevertheless, the current regional leadership emphasizes that they intend to maintain neutrality in the ongoing conflict.

Kurd against Kurd

It is also highly unlikely that Barzani would "sacrifice" the semi-autonomy of Iraqi Kurdistan for some utopian idea of a broader Kurdish federation—a project whose feasibility is now questioned by many Kurds after the weakening of the autonomous project DAANES. Barzani's political line has always been more pragmatic than ideological. In the past, he has cooperated with both Israel and Turkey, which long-term undermines the romantic notion of a united Kurdish solidarity. The pro-Barzani political circles have also been among the most vocal critics of the strong presence of Arabs in the autonomous structures of northeastern Syria and of Arab armed units within the Syrian Democratic Forces (SDF). 

If we speak of two relatively cohesive currents among Kurdish political movements, it is precisely the "camp" associated with Barzani's Kurdistan on one side and the political tradition rooted in Abdullah Öcalan's ideas and the PKK movement on the other. The first is based mainly on the model of national-territorial autonomy and pragmatic regional diplomacy, while the second seeks a radically decentralized project of democratic confederalism. Tensions between these two political visions significantly shape Kurdish politics across the region and often determine how individual Kurdish actors approach potential alliances with regional powers. 

The most visible realization of Öcalan's ideas was the experiment in Rojava, which in the context of the Arab Spring in 2011 declared a revolution and began practically developing a non-state democracy project. In the autonomous structures of northeastern Syria, in communes and local self-governments, a system was gradually built that educated, organized, and politically mobilized the local multi-ethnic and multi-religious population. It built upon decades of community network development, mainly by the working class and socialist youth, many of whom came from Turkey—shaped by the fight against the state anti-leftist violence of the 1980s. 

Despite internal contradictions and structural problems, this model functioned for more than ten years. However, recent months' events have significantly altered its form. Changes in the geopolitical balance and new support from the US and EU for the Syrian government enabled an offensive in Damascus that deprived the autonomous administration of key territories, including oil fields, and pushed the SDF back into northeastern Kurdish areas. The autonomous administration has thus lost approximately 80 percent of its original territory. 

Back to nationalism?

In media interpretations, alongside further "betrayal of the Kurds," the word "end" has also begun to appear. In my article about Rojava, I wrote that such framing overlooks the essence of the revolutionary project itself. The political ideas on which Rojava was founded cannot be destroyed by military defeat, and given the internationalist nature of the movement, it would be premature to speak of its end. However, it is undeniable that its form has changed significantly. Besides losing most Arab territories, the autonomous administration has also lost most of its "non-Kurdish" elements—not only in its armed structures but also demographically. Commentators and analysts during the offensive often cited images of the Arab population welcoming Ahmed Shary's units as liberators. Therefore, if something has truly ended, it is the multi-ethnic model of autonomy, and it is more accurate today to speak only of Rojava.

The shift from a multi-ethnic non-state democracy to a Barzani-style Kurdish nationalism is also reflected symbolically. Flags of DAANES or women's units of the YPJ are gradually giving way to the traditional Kurdish flag—known as ala rengîn—both in the region and at demonstrations in Iraqi Kurdistan and in the diaspora. Many Kurdish commentators and analysts now openly discuss whether the experiment of multi-ethnic autonomy was a strategic mistake that ultimately weakened the Kurdish position. In conversations with friends, I also perceive growing resentment: among Kurds, anti-Arab and anti-Islamic sentiments are strengthening, while among Syrians and Arabs, a mirror-opposite attitude toward Kurds is emerging. 

The current situation in Rojava, which has almost disappeared from media attention amid new Israeli-American interventions, does not look promising. One of the most sensitive issues in the fragile ceasefire and ongoing negotiations between the Syrian government (STG) and the current Kurdish administration in Qamishli is the future of the women's units of the YPJ. While the autonomous women's units are difficult for the conservative Syrian leadership to accept, for the Kurdish movement, the YPJ represents not only a key military force but also a symbol of gender equality and emancipation politics of the Rojava Revolution.

The opponent is not an enemy

In an unexpectedly fragile position, Turkey also finds itself as a result of the Israeli-American invasion. President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan has long sought to prevent any form of Kurdish autonomy—both within Turkey and beyond its borders. Ankara's obvious joy at the weakening of Kurdish autonomy in Syria, however, may prove premature. Although the Coalition of Political Forces of Iranian Kurdistan has much less involvement in such projects, PJAK's engagement poses a security risk for Turkey: the organization is linked to the PKK, whose fragile disarmament process, without significant steps from Ankara, stagnates, and the current escalation could open a new battlefield at Turkey's borders.

Besides Kurdish aspirations in Iran, a major risk for Turkey is also the possibility of a new wave of refugees crossing the 534-kilometer-long shared border. The country already hosts the world's largest refugee population—nearly three million Syrians—and further influx would likely encounter strong anti-immigration sentiment, with refugees often blamed for the economic crisis Turkey has been sinking into since 2018. Erdoğan has so far managed to politically withstand this situation, partly thanks to rhetoric of Muslim Brotherhood. Most Syrian refugees, like a large part of Turkish society (represented by Erdoğan), are Sunni. For Shia Iranians—of whom there are already an estimated half a million in Turkey—such an argument would work much less effectively. 

The situation cannot be simply reduced to a religious divide; anti-Iranian sentiment in Turkey has long been fueled by regional rivalry between the two states, especially their conflicting ambitions in Syria: while Iran supported Bashar al-Assad's regime, Turkey has backed predominantly Sunni rebels. Even amid the current crisis, Turkey manages to balance a clear alliance with the US with criticism of the war against Iran, mainly presenting it as an Israeli project: as the only NATO leader, Turkey expressed condolences over the death of Iran's highest leader, Ali Khamenei, but also condemned Iranian attacks on Gulf states as part of Tehran's retaliatory operations. 

Given the immediate proximity of the conflict on one side and ties to European states and NATO on the other, Ankara's strategy of maintaining neutrality is undoubtedly the most suitable—both on the international stage and domestically. For Erdoğan, who seeks to stay in power despite constitutional limits, this stance offers an opportunity to present himself as a leader who kept Turkey out of war and "stood on the side of good."

Who speaks for the Kurds?

The debate about Kurdish involvement in the war against Iran reveals a long-standing problem of media discourse: Kurds are primarily presented as a geopolitical variable—potential allies, tools of pressure on regional regimes, proxy forces, or destabilizing factors. Less often are they portrayed as political actors who formulate their own strategies, political demands, goals, and concerns. 

This paradox is especially evident when the Kurdish question re-emerges at the intersection of several conflicts simultaneously. In Iran and Iraq, it concerns the relationship between Kurdish political organizations and the authoritarian theocratic regime, which has long restricted their political and cultural rights. In Syria, the Kurdish experiment of democratic autonomy seeks a new arrangement with the Damascus government. And in Turkey, the Kurdish question remains one of the most sensitive and significant topics of domestic and regional politics, especially in light of new peace negotiations. 

This interconnectedness shows how misleading the idea of Kurds as a unified geopolitical actor, who can be simply "activated" as needed in regional conflict, truly is. More crucial than whether they are involved in " another war in the Middle East " is how they are framed, reduced, and taken out of context in debates. The Kurdish struggle for self-determination across Iran, Iraq, Syria, and Turkey is therefore also a fight for their own voice. 

The author is a Turkologist.