Since January 6, 2025, the Syrian interim government's army, together with Turkish-backed Islamist militias, has launched attacks first on Kurdish neighborhoods in Aleppo and then across Rojava, the largely Kurdish autonomous region in northeast Syria.
Rojava's system of self-administration coalesced in 2012 during the Syrian Civil War, when Kurdish forces and their allies established autonomous cantons based on democratic confederalism, a system emphasizing direct democracy and gender equality, and seeking multi-ethnic cooperation. Formally consolidated in 2014, it evolved into the Autonomous Administration of North and East Syria (AANES), expanding to include Arab, Assyrian, Turkmen, and other communities. Central to Rojava's defense are the Women's Protection Units (YPJ), all-female militias fighting alongside the People's Protection Units (YPG) under the banner of the Syrian Democratic Forces (SDF). Internationally recognized during the battle against ISIS in Kobane in 2014-2015, the YPJ embodies Rojava's commitment to gender equality on the frontlines, fundamentally challenging patriarchal structures and seeing women commanding military operations.
This alternative political vision makes Rojava a target for multiple actors. The January assaults followed Syria's power shift after Bashar al-Assad's fall in December 2024, when Hayat Tahrir al-Sham (HTS), led by Ahmed al-Sharaa, also known as Mohammad al-Jolani, seized Damascus. Since the formalization of a security agreement between the Syrian interim government, Israel, and the US, reached in Paris on January 8, HTS militias have swept through Rojava, targeting infrastructure, humanitarian supplies, and entire cities. While Western states, particularly the US, view al-Sharaa as a malleable actor amenable to their own regional interests, HTS has systematically targeted minorities: Alawites in Latakia, Druze in Sweida, and Kurds in Rojava. On January 30, 2026, the SDF announced a ceasefire and agreed to discussions on integrating structures with Syrian authorities. What follows remains uncertain. Yet thousands of Kurds have mobilized across borders to defend Rojava against this potentially existential threat.
"There are many governments that have no interest in peace between the peoples of Syria," says the Kurdish-German writer and activist Şeyda Kurt. In this interview with Carlos Hanke Barajas, originally published in German on Der Freitag, she discusses her perspectives on the autonomous administration, the roles of Turkey and Western powers, and the double standards of "feminist foreign policy". It is a conversation about a hard-fought autonomy hanging tenuously in an evolving balance.
Carlos Hanke Barajas: Ms. Kurt, you maintain close contacts in Syria and have been deeply engaged with the region for years. How have you personally experienced the last few days?
Şeyda Kurt: Events have escalated rapidly. It took me some time to shake off a state of shock. Even the protests in Cologne, where I currently live, were initially quite uncoordinated. Individuals registered demonstrations—it was a patchwork of actions. What also weighs heavily on me is what the attack triggers within my personal environment: Arab Syrian friends, for example, sharing Instagram stories defending the actions of the Syrian transitional government. Or part of my Turkish family is circulating same state propaganda online. I’ve had to endure some very difficult conversations.
You were yourself in the border region not long ago. What comes to mind now?
Only in September did I visit Kurdish cities along the Turkish-Iraqi border. I think about the atmosphere back then—the sense of hope and confidence with which people viewed the peace process between Turkey and the Kurds, which has now, of course, stalled again. And naturally, I think of friends in Rojava, even though they are often the first to say: “We expected this. We have been at war for years, and we will continue to fight.”
After Assad’s fall in December 2024, there was widespread relief—including in media coverage. Do you still have hope for peace with the Syrian transitional government?
Of course I felt joy as well. I wrote to a Syrian friend through tears, saying: Mabrouk, habibi, congratulations! But almost immediately afterward, I felt sheer panic. I nearly threw up from fear.
Why?
Like many others, I saw what was coming: with the new power holders in Syria, peace would not come for minorities. On the contrary, violence would increase. On the one hand, it was already known that the transitional president, Ahmed al-Sharaa or Abu Mohammad al-Jolani, is a former member of the al-Nusra Front, officially linked to al-Qaeda and with ties to ISIS. These are precisely the forces responsible for the genocide of the Yazidis, for enslavement and massacres in Syria.
He staffed his transitional government with individuals demonstrably involved in war crimes—some of whom had even been sanctioned by the EU. These fears were confirmed very quickly. Just three months after Assad’s fall, there were massacres of Alawites, involving units associated with the transitional government.
“Al-Sharaa is a former member of the al-Nusra Front, officially linked to al-Qaeda and with ties to ISIS […] The forces responsible for the genocide of the Yazidis [in Syria].”
What would peace for the Kurds in Syria even look like?
There will be no peace as long as the Syrian transitional government continues—as it has in recent days—to demand the complete capitulation of the autonomous self-administration in North and East Syria. Negotiations have failed because such a capitulation will never happen. People will never give up what they have built over more than a decade, at enormous cost.
“There will be no peace as long as the Syrian transitional government demands the complete capitulation of the autonomous self-administration in North and East Syria.”
What is it that people there find so worth defending?
Grassroots democratic structures, women’s liberation as a political principle, local self-governance, relative security for religious and ethnic minorities—and the attempt to build a solidaristic, non-capitalist society in the midst of war. So far, the transitional government has offered the Kurds little more than symbolic gestures.
Fig.1
For example?
For instance, the recognition of Kurdish as an official language, to be taught in schools. This was meant to signal goodwill. But cultural recognition is no guarantee of security or political equality. The same applies to citizenship, which was stripped from many Kurds under the Assad regime and is now supposed to be restored. For many Kurdish women, this feels provisional. They know all too well that rights can be withdrawn again the moment it becomes politically expedient.
A ceasefire agreement between Damascus and the Kurdish self-administration had technically been in place since March 2025. Why are attacks happening now?
For those living there—or those who have observed the region for years—this comes as no surprise. In 2018, Turkey launched a military offensive against Afrin, a Kurdish canton that has remained under the control of Turkey-backed militias ever since. Since then, Turkey has repeatedly carried out drone attacks on other territories of the self-administration. Since at least 2018, large-scale offensives were anticipated.
Why now? There are currently two power centers influencing Syria’s transitional government: Turkey and Israel. The first dreams of a Greater Turkey; the other of a Greater Israel—and neither imperial power has any interest in the survival of Rojava as a project of “democratic confederalism.”
That is, an alternative to ethno-nationalism and the nation-state, in which locally organized councils and communes make decisions from the bottom up. Moreover, Rojava has become a global point of reference and a gathering place for leftist, anti-colonial, and anti-imperialist movements worldwide.
“One dreams of a Greater Turkey; the other of a Greater Israel—and neither has any interest in Rojava surviving as an alternative to ethno-nationalism and the nation-state.”
What role does EU Commission President Ursula von der Leyen’s visit to Damascus in early January play?
As we know, von der Leyen arrived with €620 million in reconstruction aid. She did not utter a single word about the attacks on Kurdish neighborhoods in Aleppo, which were already underway. This sends a clear signal: the Syrian central government can act as it pleases without facing public criticism from its European allies.
At the same time, Syria is now expected to deliver economic results—by Europe and the United States alike. Yet economic recovery depends heavily on oil and gas reserves, as well as wheat and cotton fields, most of which are located in the northeast under Kurdish administration.
Fig.2
In cities like Raqqa or Tabqa, Kurds are a minority and the Arab Sunni population forms the majority. Reports indicate killings and detentions of dissidents by the SDF (Syrian Democratic Forces, a name used by the armed forces within the Kurdish autonomous area). Has the self-administration failed to sufficiently integrate the Arab Sunni population?
Yes and no. The self-administration deliberately pursued the integration of all ethnic and religious groups through local councils—not only Arabs, but also Assyrians, Armenians, and Turkmen. During the research for my second book, I spoke with Arab women who confidently defended the (Rojava) revolution and its values.
That said, there have been conflicts over scarce water resources and electricity—some deliberately exacerbated by Turkey’s occupation of the Tishrin dam. And of course, the self-administration is not free of mistakes, like any political project in development.
There are serious allegations from Arab perspectives against the SDF: forced recruitment of children, abductions, even arbitrary killings. And secondly, the perception that Kurdish dominance has emerged in Arab-majority areas, making Arab populations feel occupied.
Are these failures discussed within the Kurdish movement?
From what I can tell, yes. Criticism and self-criticism are central pillars of Kurdish liberation ideology. But it is important to stress: we do not defend Rojava because it is morally flawless. I reject that kind of moralism. In a brutal, decades-long cycle of violence like that affecting the Middle East, all warring parties bear guilt.
Defending Rojava does not mean demanding Kurdish ethnic or cultural dominance. It means defending their right to live without repression, displacement, and genocidal violence. It means defending the most progressive political project in the Middle East. That is a political responsibility for all leftists.
Der Spiegel recently published criticism of the Kurdish self-administration from a distinctly Arab perspective. A new turn in the media discourse on Rojava?
There are currently Kurdish calls to boycott outlets such as Al Jazeera, which explicitly adopt the perspective of the Syrian transitional government. Many people who showed solidarity with Palestine and followed coverage of the genocide in Gaza relied on Al Jazeera in recent years—and unfortunately received a one-sided, distorted portrayal of Kurds.
When we speak about the Middle East, we must also speak about Arab nationalism, which has always been homogenizing and exclusionary—like all hegemonic nationalisms. I also believe that Arab Sunni nationalism has gained momentum through the suffering and genocide in Palestine. This accumulated rage, hatred, and radicalization is now increasingly being directed against Kurds and minorities.
“Many who followed Al Jazeera to learn about the genocide in Gaza have received a deeply distorted picture of Kurds.”
US troops stationed in Syria are currently doing nothing to halt the advance of al-Sharaa’s forces. Did the Kurdish movement rely too heavily on long-term Western support?
One narrative infuriates me: that Kurds deserve protection because they did the West’s dirty work in fighting ISIS. Peoples of North and East Syria have a right to existence and self-determination regardless of their usefulness to Western security or prosperity.
Ultimately, the US is a NATO ally of Turkey and also an ally of Israel. Cooperation between the US and the SDF was tactical—to prevent further massacres and genocides of minorities such as Yazidis and Christians. And, of course, it was also about seizing a moment to create space for self-organization.
Three years ago, German politicians chanted “Jin, Jiyan, Azadî” during the protests in Iran. Today, little remains of this so-called feminist foreign policy. Does the absence of these gestures bother you?
Those slogans were symbolic rhetoric—a farce. Most politicians who shouted “Jin, Jiyan, Azadî” had little understanding of its origins: a radically anti-colonial, systemic struggle against patriarchy and authoritarian violence, one that fundamentally questions capitalist modernity.
German foreign policy has never supported this—quite the opposite. Take the former foreign minister Annalena Baerbock: she appropriated the slogan while belonging to a government that exported weapons to Saudi Arabia and Turkey. Turkey is the state militarily attacking the Kurdish women’s movement that created “Jin, Jiyan, Azadî.”
So this is not a rupture, but continuity. The difference is that the moral veil has fallen. And frankly, I welcome that—because at least we know where things stand.
Fig.3
What role does the agreement planned between Chancellor Merz and al-Sharaa, enabling deportations to Syria, play?
We must understand that we live in the belly of the beast. We have a federal government that supports the massacres and the destruction of Rojava and North-East Syria out of self-interest; for instance, deporting refugees back to Syria.
The same logic drove the 2016 refugee deal with Turkey, alongside military rearmament. For years, the self-administration has appealed to the EU and Germany to repatriate ISIS prisoners with German citizenship. Now, we are witnessing breakouts and releases from these camps by forces of the transitional government.
“We have a federal government that supports the massacres and the destruction of Rojava out of self-interest; for instance deportations.”
What can be done in Germany to support people on the ground?
The Kurdish diaspora and their internationalist supporters are extremely well organized. Support can take many forms: donations to the Kurdish Red Crescent, Heyva Sor; participation in daily demonstrations across German cities; or direct solidarity actions.
This Friday, the People’s Caravan to Rojava will depart, joined by activists from many countries. They aim to reach Rojava by land to draw [public] attention—similar to the flotillas attempting to reach Gaza by sea.
For leftists and progressives, it is crucial not to fall into the false binaries imposed by dominant powers in the Middle East—binaries that claim the liberation of one people can occur without the liberation of others. Especially in times of rightward shifts in Germany, we must defend bastions such as Rojava: as a lived example of self-governance and emancipatory politics, and as proof that resistance can be practice, not just theory.
Videos are circulating of ISIS fighters escaping prisons, sympathizers toppling statues of YPJ (People’s Protection Unit) Kurdish fighters, and former SDF fighters being beheaded. How do you deal with this flood of images?
I log off. That distance is necessary to avoid being overwhelmed. These images also bring grief: the possibility that a project like Rojava, a beacon of hope for so many, could be destroyed before our eyes, live-streamed…
What I have found deeply moving, however, is the unity among progressive forces, Kurds, and other peoples across borders. I have seen videos of Armenian groups publicly declaring their intention to join the defense of North and East Syria. Kurds on the Turkish side of the border tearing down fences to join the defense units. The same on the Iraqi side. Kurds in Iran are convinced that the Islamic regime is nearing collapse.
For many, this is a historic moment—and it shows. This rapid, collective mobilization, amplified through social media, gives me hope. It reminds me that despite everything, shared responsibility and shared resistance still exist.
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Şeyda Kurt (born 1992 in Cologne) studied Philosophy, Romantic Studies, and Cultural Journalism in Cologne, Bordeaux, and Berlin. She writes as a freelance journalist and columnist for various print and online media, including ZEIT ONLINE. Her book Radikale Zärtlichkeit. Warum Liebe politisch ist examines love within the force fields of patriarchy, capitalism, and racism. In 2023, her second bestseller Hass. Von der Macht eines widerständigen Gefühls was published, which also engages with the autonomous self-administration of North and East Syria.
- Images:
Cover Fig.1-3: New World Summit–Rojava Year: 2015-18 Artist: Democratic Self-Administration of Rojava and Studio Jonas Staal. Photo: Ruben HamelinkDêrik, Canton Cizîrê, Rojav
