September 26, 2025
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The Kurdish people, a distinct ethnic and linguistic group native to the Middle East, have long aspired to self-determination. In the aftermath of World War I, the victorious powers initially floated the idea of an independent Kurdistan in the 1920 Treaty of Sèvres. However, this promise was never realized. The Treaty of Lausanne in 1923, which set the borders of modern Turkey, pointedly omitted any provision for a Kurdish state, leaving the Kurds stateless and divided among the newly formed or expanded states of Turkey, Iraq, Syria, and Iran. For Kurds, Lausanne is remembered as a bitter historical injustice—a great-power deal that crushed their aspirations for nationhood and sowed the seeds of conflict for decades to come. Overnight, the Kurdish nation was transformed into minorities across several countries, and in Turkey—home to the largest Kurdish population—their very identity would soon come under assault.
Decades of Denial and Discrimination in Turkey
From the early Turkish Republic through the late 20th century, the Turkish state pursued an aggressive policy of assimilation toward the Kurds. In official propaganda, Kurds were long referred to as “Mountain Turks,” with authorities even claiming they were simply Turks who had forgotten their language—a denial of Kurdish ethnicity that persisted in state rhetoric until as late as 1991. This erasure was not only symbolic but systemic: expressions of Kurdish culture were suppressed at every level. The Kurdish language, dress, and music were banned in public life; Kurdish names were forbidden; and the teaching of Kurdish in schools was prohibited. The campaign aimed to erase Kurdish distinctiveness in favor of a homogeneous Turkish identity, consistent with the republic’s founding motto of “one nation, one language.” The costs of such policies were profound.
When Kurds resisted assimilation, they often faced brutal repression. Historical records document mass violence against Kurdish communities, most notoriously the Dersim massacre of 1937–38. In Dersim (renamed Tunceli under a Turkification policy), a Kurdish Alevi-led uprising was crushed with extraordinary force: according to an official report, over 13,000 Kurdish civilians were killed and thousands more were exiled by the Turkish army. Kurdish historical accounts put the toll even higher, in the tens of thousands, including many women and children. Such episodes left enduring scars and ingrained deep grievances.
Beyond these large-scale crackdowns, everyday racism and discrimination against Kurds became a fact of life in Turkey. Kurds were stigmatized in media and education—even recent school textbooks depicted them as traitors to the nation, reflecting a broader nationalist bias against non-Turkish peoples. In this environment, open assertion of Kurdish identity invited suspicion. The European Commission observed in the late 1990s that any Turk openly declaring their Kurdish ethnicity risked harassment or persecution by authorities.
Racist Attacks and Cultural Repression
This legacy of intolerance has at times erupted into hate crimes and racist violence toward Kurds for decades.
In the 1990s, a wave of extrajudicial murders targeting prominent Kurdish businessmen and public figures was systematically tied to a clandestine nexus of state intelligence, ultranationalist paramilitaries, and criminal networks often referred to as Turkey’s “deep state.” Following the infamous Susurluk scandal, investigations revealed that arms of the state—including the Special Operations Department (ÖHD), Grey Wolves militants, and elements within the National Intelligence Organization (MİT)—orchestrated or facilitated the killings of figures such as Behçet Cantürk, Savaş Buldan, Ömer Lütfü Topal, and Medet Serhat, among others. A parliamentary indictment listed more than 19 assassinated individuals—including businessmen and intellectuals—and named high-level officials such as Mehmet Ağar, İbrahim Şahin, and Korkut Eken as defendants, allegedly organizing these murders under the guise of anti-PKK operations.
The overall scale of these killings remains contested due to the secrecy of the operations and the lack of prosecutions. However, at least a dozen high-profile figures were confirmed victims, and human rights groups estimate that politically motivated, unresolved killings—including those of journalists, activists, and minority figures—may number in the hundreds or even thousands. Particularly, JİTEM—a shadowy gendarmerie intelligence unit—has been implicated in as many as 5,000 unsolved political murders and around 1,500 enforced disappearances between 1989 and 2000.
In recent years, several tragic incidents have underscored the persistence of the problem. In July 2021, a Kurdish family of seven—the Dedeoğulları family—was massacred in Konya, central Turkey, by an armed assailant. Relatives adamantly described the killings as a racially motivated attack—the culmination of threats and assaults the family had endured “for being Kurdish”—even as authorities tried to downplay any ethnic motive. This was not an isolated case. Turkish human rights groups noted a spike in violent hate crimes against Kurds around that time, with other Kurdish individuals attacked or killed under suspicious circumstances. Such crimes are often met with impunity: in the Konya case, officials initially attributed the killings to a personal feud and denied racism, prompting outrage and fear among Kurdish communities nationwide.
State repression of Kurdish expression also continues. Peaceful cultural acts are criminalized as “terrorism” in a climate of mistrust. In one almost absurd case, university students in Diyarbakır (Amed) faced up to seven years in prison simply for whistling a popular Kurdish tune during a Newroz (New Year) celebration—prosecutors claimed their whistling amounted to spreading terrorist propaganda. The students had done nothing violent; one insisted he was “just whistling a song by a Kurdish artist,” not a rebel anthem, yet he was arrested on the spot by plainclothes police. In another case, Kurdish musician Kasım Taşdoğan was sentenced to 30 months in prison in 2025 for performing three Kurdish folk songs at public events—a court deemed these songs to be propaganda for the outlawed PKK rebel group. Such cases send a chilling message that even music and dance can be treated as crimes if they are Kurdish.
Kurds have also been victims of egregious abuses by members of the security forces. A particularly harrowing case was that of İpek Er, an 18-year-old Kurdish woman. In 2020, she was abducted and repeatedly raped over 20 days by a Turkish sergeant in the Kurdish-majority province of Batman. Traumatized, she attempted suicide and later died of her injuries. In a letter, she named her assailant, Musa Orhan, and detailed the ordeal. Yet the response of the justice system outraged the public: the accused sergeant was arrested but quickly released pending trial, and despite the gravity of the crime, courts repeatedly refused to keep him in custody. This leniency—perceived as bias when the victim is Kurdish—prompted protests across Turkey. Women’s rights activists and Kurdish communities saw it as part of a pattern of impunity for crimes against Kurds. The pro-Kurdish HDP party condemned Orhan’s release as emblematic of “the sort of mentality the government wants to create in society.” The case became a rallying point, with many in Turkey calling for justice and an end to state toleration of violence against Kurds.
These episodes are only samples of the thousands of anti-Kurdish attacks carried out or condoned by the state. They underscore the urgent need for a new mindset in Turkey. The persistence of anti-Kurdish racism and denial of rights not only victimizes Kurds but also perpetuates instability. This is the backdrop against which any peace process must unfold—a legacy of mistrust that future reconciliation efforts will have to overcome.
The PKK and Attempts at Peace
The modern Kurdish–Turkish conflict crystallized in 1984, when the Kurdistan Workers’ Party (PKK), led by Abdullah Öcalan, launched an armed resistance against the Turkish state. What began as a bid for Kurdish self-rule—at first even independence—turned into one of the world’s longest-running insurgencies. The Turkish military committed war crimes and harsh tactics during this low-intensity war, often targeting civilians as well as the PKK. By the 1990s, the conflict had depopulated rural Kurdish villages, with many Kurds fleeing to cities or abroad, and fueled a cycle of violence and retaliation.
Öcalan’s capture in 1999—he was abducted by Turkish agents and imprisoned for life—did not end the resistance. The new millennium, however, brought some shifts. By 2013, amid regional changes and pressure from the EU, Öcalan publicly abandoned the goal of secession, instead calling for a peaceful, democratic resolution within Turkey’s existing borders. That same year, Turkey’s then-Prime Minister (now President) Recep Tayyip Erdoğan initiated a historic peace dialogue with Öcalan and the PKK. A ceasefire took hold, raising hopes that a 30-year conflict might finally be resolved. This period, often called the “Peace Process,” saw unprecedented steps: Ankara acknowledged the Kurdish issue, negotiations were held, and reforms—such as limited Kurdish-language rights and media—were promised.
Tragically, the peace process collapsed in 2015. Amid rising tensions from the Syrian war next door and domestic political calculations, Erdoğan’s government walked away from the talks and resumed military operations. The breakdown led to one of the deadliest phases of the conflict: urban clashes erupted in several Kurdish-majority cities in 2015–2016, while bombings and reprisals shook Turkey. Since July 2015, renewed fighting has killed more than 7,000 people, including around 646 civilians, according to independent estimates. Hopes for peace gave way to bitterness, and the state intensified its crackdown on legal Kurdish political parties—arresting hundreds of Kurdish politicians and eventually moving to shut down the pro-Kurdish HDP. Thousands of HDP members were jailed, and elected Kurdish mayors and officials were dismissed and replaced by state appointees. The dream of a negotiated settlement seemed more distant than ever.
Yet by late 2022 and 2023, subtle signs emerged that Turkey’s stance might be softening again. President Erdoğan, facing economic troubles and regional volatility, began making carefully worded references to the need for “peace at home.” In October 2024, Devlet Bahçeli—the ultra-nationalist ally in Erdoğan’s coalition—shocked the country by suggesting that Öcalan could be moved toward house arrest or parole if the PKK disarmed. This was extraordinary coming from Bahçeli, who years earlier had called for Öcalan’s execution, and it hinted that the Turkish establishment was exploring a way out of the conflict. Analysts noted that Bahçeli’s hardline Nationalist Movement Party (MHP) may have calculated that resolving the Kurdish issue could politically benefit Erdoğan, for instance, by securing Kurdish support for future constitutional changes. At the same time, Öcalan, still imprisoned on İmralı Island, indicated through intermediaries that he was ready to play a constructive role if allowed to communicate.
These feelers culminated in a new peace initiative quietly launched in late 2024. Back-channel meetings were reportedly held between Turkish officials and Kurdish representatives. In an extraordinary development, Abdullah Öcalan was permitted to send a message to a public Newroz gathering in March 2025. In that letter, read aloud to a jubilant crowd, Öcalan declared: “I take on historical responsibility… I call for the laying down of arms, and for the PKK to dissolve itself.” This bombshell announcement—essentially Öcalan’s command to end the armed struggle—had an electrifying effect. Within days, the PKK’s executive committee affirmed that they fully agreed with Öcalan’s call and would implement it, provided that the Turkish state also took steps to enable a peaceful political process. On March 1, 2025, the PKK declared a unilateral ceasefire to end its 40-year insurgency. The group pledged that its fighters would refrain from all armed actions and only respond if attacked.
This ceasefire was followed in May 2025 by an even more dramatic step: the PKK’s leadership convened in the Qandil mountains of Iraqi Kurdistan and announced that the organization would formally disband after concluding its congress. In effect, the PKK was dissolving itself as a guerrilla force—a milestone many had thought impossible.
These fast-moving developments clearly mark the start of a new peace process between the Turkish state and its Kurdish adversaries. After decades of bloodshed, the combatants are laying down arms. President Erdoğan cautiously welcomed Öcalan’s message as a “historic step” that could “tear down the wall of terror” between Turks and Kurds. However, he also signaled that any reconciliation must be on Turkey’s terms. Ankara has publicly ruled out direct negotiations with the PKK’s leadership in exile, preferring to frame the ceasefire as a surrender of the “terrorists.”
Notably, even as these peace overtures unfolded, Turkey continued to arrest Kurdish activists and politicians, including mass detentions of members of the pro-Kurdish Democracy Party (the successor to the banned HDP) in spring 2025. Such contradictory behavior—talking peace while cracking down—shows that the process remains fragile. Deep skepticism endures on the Kurdish side: they insist that “democratic politics and legal rights must be secured” for the ceasefire to hold and become permanent.
Peace Brings Turkey the Greatest Gains
Achieving a just peace with the Kurds is not only a moral imperative for Turkey but also a strategic one. Ending the conflict would lift a massive internal security burden and heal a deep societal wound, while also transforming Turkey’s regional geopolitics. If Turkey resolves its differences with the Kurdish nation, it gains a powerful buffer of stability stretching from the fringes of Iran to the Mediterranean Sea, essentially turning a restive borderland into a zone of influence. Kurdish-populated regions form a continuous belt from western Iran through northern Iraq and Syria to southeastern Turkey. Today, that belt is fragmented by conflicts and rivalries. But imagine if Turkey fostered positive, peaceful relations with Kurds across this entire arc.
For one, Turkey’s ties with the Kurdistan Regional Government (KRG) in Iraq would flourish further. Already, despite the PKK conflict, Ankara enjoys a strong partnership with Iraqi Kurdish leaders in Erbil, especially with the Kurdistan Democratic Party (KDP). A Turkish–PKK peace would remove the biggest thorn (the PKK’s presence in northern Iraq) that complicates Turkey–KRG relations. The KRG has openly welcomed Öcalan’s call and the new peace process, viewing it as an opportunity to stabilize its own territory. If the PKK disarms and withdraws from Iraq, the threat of Turkish cross-border military strikes (which have killed dozens of civilians) will recede. This would greatly improve security in Iraqi Kurdistan. In turn, Turkey could expand its economic influence, through oil, trade, and infrastructure, across a pacified Kurdish region, connecting Turkish and Iraqi Kurdish markets and beyond.
Peace would also alter the dynamics in northern Syria, where Kurdish-led forces, the Autonomous Administration of North and East Syria (AANES), control self-governing areas. Turkey has viewed these Syrian Kurdish groups as extensions of the PKK and thus as existential threats, launching military incursions to block them from creating a contiguous zone along Turkey’s border. But if the PKK conflict ends and Kurdish rights are respected in Turkey, the rationale for seeing Syria’s Kurds as enemies weakens. Turkey could potentially pursue new arrangements with the Syrian Kurds, perhaps through dialogue or mediation by Iraqi Kurdish leaders who have a stake in broader Kurdish stability. In effect, Turkey might replace military confrontation with diplomacy, integrating Syrian Kurdish authorities into a framework that both addresses Turkey’s security concerns (such as preventing cross-border attacks) and acknowledges Kurdish self-governance in Syria. That, in turn, could help ease the Syrian war and reduce the influence of Iran and other external actors there.
Indeed, containing Iranian influence is another strategic reason for Turkey to embrace peace with the Kurds. The Iranian regime has its own Kurdish opposition and has historically manipulated Kurdish issues to pressure Turkey. If Turkey reconciles with the Kurds, Iran loses this leverage. Moreover, the possible fall of the Iranian regime, which many observers see as increasingly likely, would make Kurds in Iran, Iraq, and Syria pivotal players. Turkey would be far better positioned if it had the trust of Kurdish communities. It could then cooperate with them to counter Iranian destabilization. In late 2023, Erdoğan himself noted that with wars and turmoil all around, Syria’s civil war, insurgencies in Iraq, and even the Israel–Palestine flare-up, establishing “peace at home” with the Kurds is essential for Turkey’s security.
Finally, resolving the Kurdish conflict is key to Turkey’s global ambitions. Turkey has long sought membership in the European Union, but one of the biggest obstacles has been its human rights record, particularly its treatment of minorities and the Kurdish issue. European institutions have repeatedly pressed Turkey to improve Kurdish cultural and political rights as a condition for progress in accession talks. A genuine peace process that guarantees Kurdish cultural autonomy, language rights, and representation would dramatically improve Turkey’s international image. It could unlock a new era in Turkey–EU relations, potentially reviving Turkey’s frozen EU bid. Beyond Europe, it would bolster Turkey’s soft power and credibility as a stable, pluralistic democracy. In short, peace with the Kurds would remove the stigma of internal repression that has clouded Turkey’s partnerships, allowing it to engage the world with far greater moral authority.
Embracing Pluralism: A New Vision for Turkey
For any peace agreement to truly succeed, Turkish society will need to come to terms with its diverse identity. Peace is not merely the silencing of guns, it requires a transformation in mindset, a willingness to accept “the Other” as an equal part of the nation. This represents a profound shift for a state that, for a century, built its identity around Turkish ethno-nationalism. The Kurds, as well as Armenians, Greeks, Arabs, Assyrians, and other minorities, were often treated as second-class citizens or even as traitors in official narratives. Overcoming this legacy is as important as any legal treaty with the PKK.
Historically, Turkey’s nation-building project was achieved at great human cost to those who did not fit the mold of the Turkish Sunni majority. The Armenian community was decimated in 1915, an atrocity that many historians recognize as genocide. The surviving Greek Orthodox community was expelled en masse in the 1920s. Kurds, though Muslim like Turks, were subjected to forced assimilation and told that their language did not exist. Even in the Republican era, non-Turkish identities were suppressed through measures like the “Citizen, Speak Turkish!” campaign and various discriminatory laws. This homogeneous vision of “Turkishness” is what must change for peace to be durable. Turks must learn that accepting Kurdish language, culture, and political participation does not weaken Turkey, it enriches it. Embracing pluralism would mean that a citizen can proudly say “I am Kurdish and Turkish” (in the sense of national belonging) without fear, just as others might say they are Turkish and also Armenian, Arab, or Circassian by heritage.
The ongoing peace process offers an opening to start this conversation. Kurdish activists and politicians emphasize that real peace means equality and dignity: Kurds want constitutional guarantees of their rights, such as mother-tongue education, decentralization of governance, fair political representation, and an end to racist incitement. These demands are not about breaking the country, they are about feeling at home in it. In turn, many forward-thinking Turks are coming to recognize that acknowledging past wrongs and ending discrimination is the key to national unity. The alternative, continuing to insist on one nation, one identity, only perpetuates division and conflict.
It is noteworthy that the Kurdish movement itself has evolved toward a pluralistic vision. Abdullah Öcalan in recent years has advocated for “democratic confederalism,” a framework that emphasizes coexistence, local democracy, and minority rights within existing borders, rather than exclusive Kurdish nationalism. Kurdish leaders in Turkey often speak of a future where Turks and Kurds live together as equals, each respecting the other’s culture. This ethos will be crucial in persuading a skeptical public of the peace process. Turks need to see that Kurds are not a threat to the republic’s unity, but rather potential partners in building a stronger, more inclusive Turkey. Likewise, Kurds need reassurance that the state truly intends to treat them as full citizens going forward.
From Conflict to Coexistence
More than a century of persecution of Kurds by the Turkish government has brought Turks to a crossroads. The developments of 2024–2025, including Öcalan’s ceasefire call and the PKK’s pledge to disarm, are unprecedented and historic. Kurdish actors are going above and beyond to give peace a chance, effectively dismantling their armed resistance in hopes of a just political solution. This momentum must not be squandered. It now falls on President Erdoğan and the Turkish government to demonstrate equal courage and good faith. Words about “brotherhood” and “a new phase” will ring hollow if they are not followed by concrete actions to lay the foundation for true peace.
What would such a foundation entail? First, guaranteeing Kurdish rights in law and practice: protecting the freedom to speak, sing, and learn in Kurdish; ending the blanket criminalization of Kurdish political expression; releasing political prisoners jailed merely for non-violent pro-Kurdish views; and enacting reforms that empower local governments in Kurdish-majority areas. These steps would show that the Turkish state is sincere about reconciliation and not interested only in the PKK’s capitulation. Second, Turkey should address the grievances of the past, perhaps through some form of truth-telling or acknowledgment of past abuses (from Dersim to the village burnings of the 1990s). While full justice for decades of conflict may be elusive, recognition of Kurdish suffering can go a long way toward healing wounds.
Third, the government must engage in an inclusive dialogue with Kurdish representatives, not just with Öcalan in prison but also with legitimate civil society leaders, elected mayors, and community figures. The peace talks need transparency and broad buy-in so that all Kurds feel invested in the outcome. A lasting settlement will likely require constitutional changes, which will need approval by a majority of Turks. To that end, preparing Turkish public opinion is vital. Society at large must be convinced that peace with the Kurds means a better future for everyone in Turkey. Reducing ethnic tensions will improve Turkey’s economy (by attracting investment and tourism to the southeast), strengthen its democracy, and remove a major barrier to joining the EU, a goal Turkey has long aspired to but never achieved, largely due to human rights shortcomings. In fact, European observers have explicitly tied Turkey’s EU prospects to its treatment of the Kurds, suggesting that resolving this issue could unlock progress in membership talks. Peace thus offers Turkey a “win-win”: domestic harmony and international advancement.
In the end, the journey from conflict to coexistence is fraught with challenges, but the opportunity at hand is real. Turkey stands to gain “superior leverage,” as some have put it, by turning old battlefields into bridges (from the west of Iran to the Mediterranean) and by recognizing that Kurdish autonomy and identity are not enemies of the state, but rather pillars of a more secure and prosperous one. The Kurds, for their part, are signaling readiness to end the fight and work within a democratic framework.
History will judge Erdoğan by whether he can complete this peace process. If trust can be built and rights secured, Turkey may finally close one of the most painful chapters in its history and open a new one, a Turkey at peace with its Kurds, at peace with itself, and at peace with its neighbors. Such an outcome, once a distant dream, is today within reach. The onus is now on Turkey’s government to not only talk about peace but to cement it in deeds, ushering in a new era of mutual respect and unity. The promise of a brighter future, and perhaps even a place in the European Union, rides on this momentous endeavor.