After the historic call made by Abdullah Öcalan on 27 February, the Kurdistan Workers’ Party (PKK) announced its decision to dissolve the organization on 12 May during its most recent congress. This decision continues to generate intense public debate. Many are now questioning the reasons behind the dissolution, what the next phase will look like, and how the state will respond to these significant steps.

Amid ongoing skepticism regarding the state’s stance towards this process, the PKK has stressed the need for legal reforms in order to fully end the armed struggle. It also highlighted the necessity of launching a process of truth and reckoning.

Despite the PKK’s recent statements, the state’s failure to take any concrete steps has sparked both criticism and debate in the public sphere. Various segments of society have begun to voice concerns that this historic opportunity must not be missed, urging the state to act without delay.

Sociologist Engin Sustam spoke to ANF in a lengthy interview. Here is the first part. 

The PKK has ended its armed struggle for rights but considering the legacy of both the Ottoman Empire and the Turkish Republic, a new phase of struggle is now beginning. How should this new process be interpreted in both historical and contemporary terms? What might the new fields of struggle look like in this period?

If I may, I would like to respond to your question with a reflection based on collective memory, as a social scientist. It is quite clear that the armed struggle, or in academic terms, mountain guerrilla warfare, had already reached a certain point. Therefore, the decision announced by the PKK is not entirely surprising under today’s circumstances.

In fact, since 1993, the Kurdish Movement has frequently sought dialogue through similar decisions, even during periods of intense warfare. It consistently brought the notion of a peace process to the agenda through unilateral ceasefires. That was during the era of President Turgut Özal. In 1993, there was a ceasefire process initiated in Lebanon’s Beqaa Valley, in which the leader of the Patriotic Union of Kurdistan (PUK), Jalal Talabani, also participated.

Following Özal’s death, the process of armed conflict resumed, triggered by the activation of the deep state apparatus. The state, particularly under the government of Tansu Çiller, began to implement a strategy of special warfare. This included assassinations, village evacuations, enforced disappearances, torture, and displacement. The Kurdish region was turned into a spiral of violence by the colonial governors of the deep state.

Of course, the greatest risk in this period lies in precisely these experiences. If we recall the most recent spiral of violence in 2015 and 2016, the fact that such processes were one-sided and that the state was never truly trusted remains a psychological barrier today. The vast majority of Kurds take the decisions of the Kurdish Movement and of Mr. Öcalan seriously, but the lack of trust in the state continues to pose a serious obstacle.

Rather than taking a constitutional step forward, the state still prioritizes militarizing the region and surrounding areas. It continues to use militarist language, and conflicts persist in many regions, including the Medya Defense Zones, where guerrillas held the 12th Congress under the pressure of ongoing military operations. This remains one of the most dangerous aspects of the current moment.

Both sides must fulfill their responsibilities for peace. The Kurdish Movement has taken the most important step within its reach and, in line with its responsibility, is seeking to move into a space of non-conflict. But will the state, as it has done in the past, continue to target guerrillas who have withdrawn and laid down their arms? This kind of conflict risk once again carries the potential to cause serious damage.

For example, we can look at the case of FARC in Colombia. In 1998, and later during the term of President Juan Manuel Santos in 2016 (a centrist-right government), significant peace steps were taken. Yet in 2019, under the new right-wing president Iván Duque, the peace process was suspended, and FARC returned to armed struggle. This shows us how fragile peace can be if one side fails to uphold its part.

How might the peace process, or a new phase, unfold in Turkey? And what is needed to ensure that such a process can function?

Even though peace processes and the cessation of armed conflict inherently involve political risks and the potential for renewed clashes, the Kurds’ geopolitical positioning across various fields now enables us to understand the Kurdish question in an entirely new way. We are no longer talking about a rebellious population led by a limited cadre or intelligentsia, as was the case in the early 20th century. Today, we are speaking of a society that has reached another level, one with political consciousness and practice in every domain.

According to Engin Sustam, Kurds must play a proactive role in this process, particularly through diplomatic engagement, by demanding constitutional guarantees for language and identity rights. He stressed that the issue must not be framed as a threat, and that tensions and conflicts should be resolved through diplomacy. To prevent provocations, such as racist attacks, that could derail the process, it is essential that Kurds call for the presence of neutral international observers with a constitutional mandate.

You cannot choose which government you make peace with. It can be right-wing or left-wing. In Colombia, peace was made with a right-wing government. But you can and must insist that the peace process and the question of a people’s freedom are placed under constitutional protection. Turkey has long been governed under the dominance of coups or by right-wing and far-right parties. Whether Kemalists, Islamist conservatives, or ultra-nationalists, these actors have always held real power.

We must recognize that making peace with this segment, one shaped by the ethos of Turkish nationalism, will not be easy. Of course, among Kurds, subconscious traumas have been triggered due to decades of violence and colonial repression. This should not be ignored.

Therefore, the most crucial first step must come from the government: demilitarize the region. Then open the way for non-military, civilian political engagement, such as ending the practice of government-appointed trustees, and releasing political prisoners. In every sense, the state must renounce the use of military force. Immediate steps must be taken to guarantee a nonviolent environment, and I believe an international peace conference involving international delegations, institutions, and actors could greatly contribute to this process.

The repeal of state-appointed trustees, the dismantling of the village guard system, and the abolition of laws introduced after the July 15 coup attempt that resemble a state of emergency would also be vital. Most importantly, a constitutional guarantee for the post-conflict phase, one that has already begun with the silencing of arms, could become one of the most meaningful democratic responses in Turkey’s history.

From there, the process would inevitably evolve toward broader demands for language rights, identity, equal citizenship, and a decentralized model of local governance. But the real question remains: is the Turkish state truly ready to make peace?

This process, which does not even have a clearly defined name yet, naturally carries psycho-political risks. Beyond the constant unease that things could reverse at any moment, a scenario no one desires, it is a process vulnerable to renewed conflict. This is a conclusion based on past experiences, but it is also deeply connected to the fact that the state has yet to take any serious or trustworthy political step.

As I mentioned earlier, Kurds cannot naturally place their trust in the state, its laws, institutions, or mechanisms. This distrust persists unless the process demonstrates real functionality in practice. Historically, there is no foundation for trust in states. Unfortunately, world history provides too many examples of this. I am not necessarily saying ‘we must trust the state.’ What I am saying is that this issue must truly be socialized and secured within an institutional framework.

This is a process that has continued since the Treaty of Lausanne. Perhaps the first serious step toward breaking certain ingrained paranoias is to fully comprehend this fact. There are hundreds of violent practices and colonial experiences that have led Kurds to distrust the state, and those practices continue to this day.

In light of all this, the questions of ‘Why was the dissolution announced?’ or ‘Why has the Kurdish Movement ended its armed struggle?’ will likely continue to be widely discussed.

Some have even opposed the possibility that this process could evolve into peace. How should these positions be addressed?

In my view, rather than simply developing a stance against such opposition, it is far more important to ensure that all Kurdish dynamics are heard in a democratic manner. At the same time, efforts must be made to address the political paranoia that exists within Turkish society.

We are, of course, living through a strange and unusual time. I have observed carefully that there are two minority groups, on both the Turkish and Kurdish sides, who are oddly opposed to the laying down of arms and now stand in the same camp. One is a segment of Turkish society that profits from anti-Kurdish hatred and has adopted racism as an ideological duty. The other is made up of those who do not trust the state and oppose the PKK’s decision to lay down arms without making any formal demands, or who are simply known for their hostility toward the Kurdish Movement.

These same groups, who were against the Kurdish Movement even when it was engaged in armed struggle, continue to oppose it today, even when the people themselves support peace and reject war. Every day, they flood social media with extreme commentary, posing as experts. Still, I think this is a natural development. This process will inevitably move forward through the debates of many different dynamics.

These discussions show us that nothing is strictly black or white. There are countless shades in between, vibrant and grey zones that help us better understand our political reality. On one side, we have a society raised on anti-Kurdish hatred. On the other, we have a Kurdish society trying to breathe beneath that hatred, one that has completely lost its trust in the system.

Within and between these two groups, the most intense debates will naturally take place. It’s similar to what we see in Israel today, not all Israelis support the war. There is a large, visible opposition movement on the streets, protesting daily and raising its voice against extreme racists, expressing their desire to live together with Palestinians.

This, I believe, reflects the global emotional climate of our time. We are living in an era of authoritarian regimes inclined toward the global far-right. It is a period in which fascism is once again being institutionalized across societies.

When we look at what has unfolded in Turkey over the past decade, it is clear that we are not living in a democratic country. Therefore, when discussing the Kurdish question, the priority should not be to avoid damaging someone’s political or institutional fragility. The priority should be developing radical, institutional, and social practices and guarantees aimed at healing a problem that has become carcinogenic due to colonialism.

Although it may not be very visible in today’s foggy political climate, there are many people in Turkey who support peace and wish to engage in dialogue. Sırrı Süreyya Önder was just one of them. In the same way, the new phase of struggle will likely take shape accordingly.

There will also be those among the Kurds who do not want to believe that the Kurdish Movement saw the possibility of a desired social peace and therefore dissolved itself unilaterally. It seems this is also a political situation that needs to be debated and confronted within Kurdish society itself. For instance, despite very positive reactions coming from all fronts, the Kurdistan Democratic Party (KDP), the Patriotic Union of Kurdistan (PUK), the Democratic Union Party (DUP), etc.  Statements of willingness to contribute to this process, the discourse on social media appears to reflect something else, likely due to certain psychic-romantic fractures.

Turkish paranoia is being triggered, while the Kurds continue to experience a deep distrust toward the system. Segments of Turkish society shaped by Kurdish phobia and hatred, particularly those within the far right, are not inclined to support a peace process due to the psychological barriers created by their nationalist mindset. I say this not just in reference to the Nationalist Movement Party (MHP), but because we are now facing a new generation of far-right youth, an emerging phenomenon that goes beyond even the MHP.

The denialism emerging especially from Kemalist seculars is so terrifying that it evokes the image of the priests who passed judgment in the courts of the Medieval Inquisition. It shows, pathologically, just how tangled the Kurdish issue is. The irony of it all is that, while the colonized space is the Kurdish region, there is a bizarre paranoia being manufactured in Turkey that claims it is Turkey that is being fragmented and colonized by “imperialists” (in this case, referring solely to anti-American sentiment), which only worsens the severity of the situation.

At this point, it seems we need not the self-proclaimed historians of social media, but rather scientists who, through a reform of the education curriculum, will deeply engage with the historical memory of the Kurdish question. Because this is not just a matter between two institutional structures; the path forward can only be found through the shared initiative of all political and social actors involved.

How does the PKK perceive this new process, despite the criticisms? What is its perspective on the current moment?

The Kurdish Movement is a multifaceted dynamic with distinct dimensions: armed struggle, a social project, national aspirations, and a position within global politics. From what I understand, this peace process is not interpreted solely within the framework of Turkey; it also encompasses the broader Middle East.

The latest developments in Rojava show that the liberation of this region, and its anchoring in a stable autonomous practice, holds the potential to offer a meaningful response to the Kurdish question in Turkey. Some social demands must now be reconciled with peace across different fields.

The Kurdish Movement is saying very clearly: ‘I am laying down my arms in order to help establish the necessary conditions for a civilian peace and shared prosperity without conflict.’ But that does not mean surrendering certain freedoms to a sovereign, as in Thomas Hobbes’ Leviathan. It does not mean surrendering liberty for the benefit of a ruler. It means this: for the sake of the Kurdish people’s desire for peace and the removal of conditions of violence, I am refraining from engaging in acts of violence against this state, in pursuit of a civil and democratic environment.

In other words, the time has come for the state to stop acting like an aggressive Machiavellian-Leviathan force that rules through violence and punishment, and instead to make peace with both its own society and the Kurdish people. To make peace with its own society means ending the domination of state sovereignty that has, for decades, subjugated the Turkish people with hate, the rhetoric of ‘internal enemies,’ and endless declarations of terrorism.

This calls for a socially inclusive and radically democratic process, one that takes root in the psyche and pedagogy of society. The state cannot do this on its own. Its role must be to guarantee this process while permanently shelving mechanisms of punishment and intimidation.

At the same time, as you will surely agree, the war has severely damaged perceptions on both sides. It has left behind a traumatized and paranoid sense of exhaustion. The simplest example is the violence and lynching attempts against Amedspor by Bursaspor fans in Bursa, proof that this will not be easy.

The Kurdish question runs through every artery of this country, from the economy to warfare, from society to education. Solving the Kurdish issue will also contribute to resolving all these interconnected areas. Yet of course, as a question of status and equal citizenship, the Kurdish issue appears set to continue in a new form of struggle.

If the path to democratic civil politics is opened, and if both military and civilian tutelage and authoritarian restrictions are lifted, I am confident that Kurds will be able to heal their traumas, and Turks will be able to confront their paranoia. The path of dialogue can then be opened, even for those ultra-nationalist segments that have grown into pathological opposition in this unnamed peace process or fragile social partnership.

Of course, this is not easy. In fact, we may be in an even more difficult period than when the first sparks of armed resistance were ignited. There is an overwhelming wave of hatred and physical attacks directed at Kurds on all fronts, especially when we consider the jihadist paramilitary groups that were active during the Syrian civil war. But it seems that the Kurdish Movement, informed by the memory it carries, is positioning itself at a historical threshold, attempting to open a path toward social peace through an alternative mode of struggle.

This is a movement with a deep memory. What I mean is this: this memory touches on figures like Bedir Khan, Simko, and Seyid Riza; from Osman Sabri to Musa Anter. At the same time, it draws from Wallerstein, Negri, and Bookchin. Perhaps, if we set aside those who speak without considering geopolitical positioning, we can say this: the dissolution of the PKK may mark the end of an era, but also, potentially, the end of its adversaries in other fields that emerged alongside it.

The PKK completely transformed the positioning of a century-old issue

Returning now to your question, perhaps from a broader and deeper perspective: the Kurdish question, which came into being as a consequence of a century of denial and violence under the ethos of Turkish nationalism, has now reached a new stage. We are witnessing a moment in which an organized force, one that had resorted to armed struggle as a necessary response to this oppression, is dissolving itself in order to open the path to civil and democratic means of resolution.

As a sociologist who, like many generations, has witnessed multiple phases of this dynamic, I can say the following: the PKK, which emerged as a movement shaped by widespread support, embraced by many, emotionally resonant for others, and even provoking objections in some quarters, nonetheless embodied a strong foundational desire for peace. Like many Kurdish movements and traditions before it, it expressed the will of a people to seek freedom and demand equal citizenship.

The PKK has, over the past fifty years, fundamentally reshaped the positioning of this issue, which has persisted since the Ottoman era. Reactive approaches that continue to interpret the matter through narrow, chronic frameworks of “success and failure” or via abstract geopolitical institutional analysis fail to grasp the full significance of this transformation.

The question everyone is asking is this: Why did the PKK unilaterally lay down its arms, and how will the state respond? It is clear that reducing the emotional responses, or the opposition to the PKK, to narrow nationalist sentiment, and ignoring the Kurdish Movement’s practices and aspirations for freedom (which is not to say these cannot be criticized), while claiming exclusive ownership over Kurdishness, offers little in terms of meaningful political analysis or action.

Peace occurs between two armed forces, between balance and hegemony, and peace processes do not always unfold along lines of ideal demands. Even when compared to the process of 2013, and given Turkey’s current authoritarian position, while questions and criticisms are certainly valid, it is also apparent that this recent call has been met with significant public support.

The Kurdish people are signaling that the exhaustion of a fifty-year war demands a new reading of the issue. And Turkish society, too, is caught in the vortex of this fatigue.

As an ancient people of this geography, the Kurds are simply demanding their rights, like everyone else, in the place where they live. It is evident that the public expression of these demands and their expansion into a transnational domain have been made possible by the extraordinary efforts of the Kurdish Movement. And going forward, the struggle can continue within the civil sphere, through stronger debates, open dialogue, and constitutional guarantees.

As an anti-system movement, the Kurdish political structure, with the consent and sacrifice of the Kurdish people themselves, has initiated this process in a radical way.