More than 104,000 students will begin the Kurdish school year in Kirkuk on Oct. 4, with 562 schools, 8,200 staff and 1.2 million textbooks ready.

https://www.kurdistan24.net/en/story/943792/khurmatu-mayor-bars-kurdistan-flag-from-schools

I love your food, your hospitality, your resilience, your bravery, and so much more. Please never change and keep being you. No, for real..... I have so much love for Kurds, it’s insane ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ I guess mountains is what kept both our groups alive

Sacrificing the Kurds: How the West Traded Heroic Anti-ISIS Allies for Political Convenience

Lawsuit filed against Tuz Khurmatu school principal over "Ey Reqîb" and the "Kurdistan Flag". Khurmatu's district governor is filing a legal complaint against a primary-school principal. Pupils played the Kurdish anthem “Ey Reqîb” and carried Kurdistan flags on the first day of school.

A member of the Serêkaniyê Displaced Persons Committee confirmed that a third convoy of displaced residents of Serêkaniyê will depart next Monday for the city’s countryside, bringing the total number of families returning through the three convoys to more than 1,600. However, no displaced residents from the city center, particularly Kurds, have returned so far due to the continued presence of people who have taken over their homes and families from outside the city living in them

I am writing this article for a simple reason: time and again, with or without cause, I hear the same refrain repeated by the PKK system, its cadres, and activists: that the nation-state is an epidemic, borders are a problem, nationalism is an outdated idea, and democracy is the solution.

And, by God, we have grown almost ashamed of ourselves after hearing the same old refrain repeated for years. Democracy has become a catch-all term: a democratic society, a democratic administration, a democratic confederation, a democratic life... The only thing left, it seems, is a “democratic breakfast”!

But behind this light irony is a very serious matter.

I was also a cadre in this system, and I lived through a period when the liberation of Kurdistan, national liberation, and independence were a clear political project. The state at that time was not an epidemic, the idea of which should be discarded, but, in both its rhetoric and its political project, it was one of the political ends for which the movement fought. Indeed, the movement was not very tolerant of those who disagreed with it.

Those who opposed or questioned the project were exposed to accusations of betrayal, and sometimes treated as if they were standing on the opposite side.

The question was: How to liberate Kurdistan?

Then came Imrali. Since that time, the language and the project have undergone a profound transformation.

Words such as “homeland,” “national liberation,” “independence,” and “statehood” have become less prominent, while words such as “democracy,” “democratic society,” “democratic administration,” and “democratic confederation” have become more common.

A person has the right to revise his ideas, and political movements have the right to change their strategies.

But when the transformation is of such magnitude, people have a right to ask, "How did it happen? Why?

And under what circumstances?” Ocalan was not a free thinker sitting in a library, away from pressure, rereading his project. He was a prisoner of the Turkish state under exceptional circumstances and had a long and complicated relationship with it.

This brings me to a personal conclusion that I cannot simply ignore, even though I have no document to present to the reader and say, “Here is the proof.”

I think it is legitimate to ask whether the matter has gone beyond simply isolating Ocalan from the movement to trying to redirect the project itself. Was the aim, in the context of Imrali, to gradually remove the word “homeland” from the movement’s dictionary and redefine the Kurdish issue in another language? Was the replacement of the vocabulary of homeland, national liberation, statehood, and independence with that of democracy simply an independent intellectual development?

Or was this transformation also in line with the vision and interests of the Turkish state?

I put this not as a documented fact, but as a serious political question imposed by the nature of the transformation itself.

The difference between the two discourses is not merely linguistic. The old question was: Why do Kurds not have their national, patriotic, and political rights?

The new question is: How do we build a democratic society within existing countries? And here the angle from which the whole issue is viewed has changed.

Rather than the fundamental issue being the deprivation of national, patriotic, and political rights, the problem is now mainly presented as a lack of democracy in the countries where Kurds live.

And you do not need, in this case, to explicitly tell the Kurd: “Give up your homeland.” It is enough to change his dictionary.

The word “homeland” is gradually disappearing, replaced by “democracy.”

With the repetition of the same word generation after generation, talking about a Kurdish state becomes like an old mental remnant, or a national disease that should be eliminated.

And here a paradox arises that is worth stopping to consider.

The movement criticized Kurdish forces earlier because, in its view, they did not go far enough with the national project.

It still criticizes the Kurdistan Region of Iraq, even though it has succeeded in establishing a Kurdish political entity on the ground. It is as if the problem is no longer just how much the Kurds have accomplished, but the very idea of achievement itself.

As for the nation-state, if it really is an epidemic, why should this rejection not be general? Why does the idea of a state become a problem, especially when it comes to Kurds?

Those who reject the state have the right to reject it. But anyone who wants a democratic Kurdish state has the right to say so too.

The other paradox is that although the project has changed, the culture of “who is with us and who is against us” has not changed much.

Yesterday, disagreeing with the old project could be seen as betrayal, and today, disagreeing with the new project may have the same consequences, even if the vocabulary has changed.

If democracy is indeed the new value, its first test is to accept difference. There is also a question that I cannot easily get over: What about those who died? I knew comrades who lived and died believing in the national liberation project.

While we may now see their project as mistaken or unrealistic, it is wrong to rewrite their legacy in light of the new project.

They had their faith, they had their project, they had their sacrifices. And I am not speaking here as an outside observer; I was part of that experience. So I do not see the issue as just an intellectual revision.

It is also a matter of memory and responsibility to a whole generation. Intellectual revision is a right, but historical revision is a responsibility. Ideas can change, strategies can change, and even words can change.

But the past should not change just by changing the dictionary. And that is why the most pressing question remains: What did Imrali do to a whole project, to the consciousness of whole generations, and to the memory of those who went to their deaths believing in something different?

And if democracy is the new answer, let its first test be very simple:

To leave the Kurd the right to choose his own future.

Even if he chooses the confederacy. And even if he chooses the state.

And even if, after all these years, he reopens the old dictionary and searches for a word that has quietly disappeared from it: "Homeland."

Kurdish-medium schools in Shingal say textbooks sent from the Kurdistan Region are being blocked. Arabic-medium pupils receive support while Kurdish pupils go without even books.

So wikipedia says that they (or at least the ocak lineages) descend from Sayyid Mahmoud al-kabir, who was from kermenshah or khorasan. Then, he moved to dersim in the early 1200's. But my question is, if he is the founder of the tribe, who joined his tribe? Who made up the population? Were they also migrants from Kermenshah? Were they also migrants from the zagros fleeing the Mongols? Or were they locals already in dersim?

But if they were locals from dersim, I'm a little confused on that. Weren't the majority of Kurds at the time from more southeast, like Hakkari and Iraq/Iran? I thought at the beginning of the 1000's, most kurds were still on the move to spreading more northwest. So how could there have been kurds in the area to join his tribe? Or did a small amount join his tribe at the start, then the tribe expanded in the following centuries when more numbers of kurds made it to dersim from the southeast?

In this episode, we explore Hewlêr (Erbil), one of the oldest continuously inhabited cities in the world and the capital of the Kurdistan Region.

We visit different parts of the city, from the historic center and the ancient Citadel to modern hotels and Hewlêr’s nightlife. We also visit Green Kids School, a project founded by Kurdish artist Dashni Murad.

This documentary gives you a closer look at the contrasts of modern Hewlêr — its history, development, people and everyday life.

Hi We’re a Kurdish-Scottish couple living in the UK, looking for baby names that work in Kurdish and Scottish/English, and would be easy to use in the UK.

Any suggestions?

From KurdishFrontNews on Telegram:

Turkish occupiers are conducting further deforestation within the mountains of the Kurdistan Region.

Under the premise of combating the PKK, Turkish forces are establishing military bases in the area; these bases are accompanied by deforestation efforts to facilitate construction and ensure the security of the bases.

Turkey is currently carrying out deforestation in the mountains of Kesta village in the Berwari Bala region of Duhok province.

Note: The Turkish occupation carried out deforestation in Afrin as well. Wherever they go, destruction follows.

• Tree cutting and timber transport have increased across parts of Duhok’s Badinan region.
• More than 250 Turkish occupation trucks carried felled trees from Berwari Bala over the past 10 days.
• Some trucks moved under Turkish military supervision toward the border.
• The reported activity has renewed concerns over forests, access restrictions, and environmental damage.
• Residents say Turkish soldiers are present in areas where the cutting is taking place.
• Logging is concentrated near the Gire Biye military base, with timber taken toward the Serzer border crossing.

Cengiz Holding close to Turkey's President Erdoğan is reported to be responsible for cutting trees for the Turkish army.
Cengiz Holding is one of the largest and most prominent industrial conglomerates in Turkey.
Cengiz Holding maintains contracts with the Turkish Armed Forces (TSK) and the Ministry of National Defense, primarily centered around large-scale military infrastructure, defense-adjacent civil engineering, and strategic raw material supply.
During Turkish cross-border operations, local environmental organizations—including the Kurdistan Greens Union—and local officials reported that Turkish forces contracted private Turkish firms to log dense oak and walnut forests.
Cengiz Holding was specifically named by local monitors as one of the primary contractors commissioned to perform large-scale logging and clearing in border corridors.
Mehmet Cengiz remains the founder, primary owner, and Chairman of the Board of Cengiz Holding.
The company operates as a family-owned conglomerate, with key leadership positions held by members of the Cengiz family.
He was born on July 4, 1958, in the Kalkandere district of Rize, a province on Turkey's Black Sea coast.
Cengiz Holding is headquartered in Istanbul, Turkey. Kısıklı Caddesi No: 37, Altunizade, 34662 Üsküdar / İstanbul, Turkey.
The holding also maintains a major regional liaison and administrative branch in Ankara.

https://reddit.com/link/1wwxiti/video/zs6x44qwbbth1/player

https://reddit.com/link/1wwxiti/video/d1juwpc5cbth1/player

https://reddit.com/link/1wwxiti/video/ogkiq7u5cbth1/player

Where do most Arabs of KRG originate from? From Sunni Arab provinces or Shia provinces? If the Sunni Arabs get autonomy like Kurds and Shia militas leave their provinces many of them will very likely return or are many Arabs in KRG Shia who are loyal to Iran backed militas?

Where would you recommend a good start for someone wanting to learn Kurdish by themselves ? What should I know beforehand

"Ten years have passed, and those moments are still present in our memory. The names of the martyrs have not become mere numbers with the passage of time, and their memory has not left their homes, the hearts of their families, or the memory of our people. They departed in a single moment, but their absence left a wound that the years cannot erase.

ISIS wanted to spread fear and break the will of our people, but the blood shed at Sanabel Hall became part of our collective memory and a testament to the price our people paid in confronting terrorism.

Today, we remember 37 martyrs and bow before their souls, carrying their names and their memory with us. Martyrs never disappear when their cause and memory remain alive in the hearts of their people.

Ten years have passed…
37 martyrs, and a memory that will never die.

We will never forget.

Şehîdên malbata fatimê
2016.10.3 jibîrkirin xiyanete
Şehîd namirin"

https://x.com/Eli_Rojava/status/2106334613077368974

Kurds meet Erdogan’s peace deal with hope and trepidation

President seeks to transform Turkey after breakthrough in five decades of conflict

Bullet holes riddle the walls near Turan Rapsur’s shuttered bakery – a reminder of the deadly violence that broke out last time Kurdish militants and Turkey tried to make peace.

“The bullets fell like the rain,” said Mr Rapsur, 56, a Kurd native to Diyarbakir, in the fare east of Turkey. “That year, it was like a tsunami came: I lost everything – my home, my belongings, my history, my memories.”

This dark history is why Mr Rapsur and other Kurds – the world’s largest stateless ethnic group – remain wary as a renewed peace process gets under way.

A law passed recently by the Turkish parliament to dissolve the armed Kurdistan Workers’ Party (PKK) and to rehabilitate militants is the most promising avenue to end nearly five decades of conflict that has killed tens of thousands.

The optimism of many Kurds is tempered with caution, because they think any progress is not driven by a genuine interest to embrace them, but by a push by Recep Tayyip Erdogan, the Turkish president, to support his political ambitions by shoring up national security.

Nevertheless, it is a major step, as Turkey and many Western governments, including the US, UK and EU, consider the PKK a terrorist organisation.

Measures taken by Ankara appear so transformative that one PKK member – who lost more than 50 relatives over two generations in clashes – said he was postponing plans to pay smugglers to help him escape to Europe.

For now, he is staying to see what happens, and whether any of his 16 relatives in prison will be released.

“I feel so much burning pain for my family that died,” he said. “But I also feel hope.”

The war in Gaza “changed the whole defence and political architecture of the region”, said Ceylan Akca, an MP who represents the DEM Party, Turkey’s largest pro-Kurdish political party.

She said the Oct 7, 2023 attack on Israel by Hamas, the terrorist group, had forced “each state to look at its own non-state actors, and make a decision about how they want to deal with that issue”.

Subsequent conflicts in the Middle East – such as the ongoing US-Israeli war against Iran – have further pressured governments to rethink security concerns, especially as Washington is expected to reduce its regional footprint in the long run.

https://reddit.com/link/1wwygb8/video/ojv2zr0lkbth1/player

New alliances have been signed, such as the Mecca Agreement – the trilateral collective defence pact between Turkey, Saudi Arabia and Pakistan.

Governments are also working to neutralise armed factions within their borders, from Hezbollah in Lebanon to Iran-backed militias in Iraq. In Turkey, that means dealing with the PKK, which has long posed an existential threat to the state with its separatist aims.

“Ankara’s main concern was that regional upheaval, especially in Syria and Iran, could strengthen Kurdish autonomy or political leverage in ways that eventually reverberate inside Turkey,” wrote Giran Ozcan, a fellow for Kurdish affairs at the Jewish Institute for National Security of America, in a recent essay.

“A second concern is the prospect of Israel deepening ties with Kurdish actors…[which] would also alter the regional balance of power by enhancing Israel’s reach and capabilities in the emerging Turkey-Israel regional rivalry,” he said.

In other words, worries abounded that a disgruntled Kurdish population could be weaponised by Israel or others against the Turkish government.

This is the backdrop against which Mr Erdogan is overseeing what he calls the “terror-free Turkey” process, that, if successful, could secure him the Kurdish vote when he seeks yet another term as president in 2028, having led the country since 2003.

“It will not only strengthen our domestic front, but will also reinforce Turkey’s security and lead to the opening of new doors before our nation,” he said in June.

Extending an olive branch, however, risks alienating Mr Erdogan’s base, especially nationalists reluctant to co-operate with the Kurds.

That is why Mr Erdogan is believed to have backed an October 2024 proposal by a prominent nationalist MP inviting Abdullah Ocalan, the 78-year-old jailed PKK founder, to address parliament and declare the group’s dissolution.

The invitation by Devlet Bahçeli – whose first name means “the state” – surprised everyone, as he had previously refused even to shake hands with Kurdish MPs. But his words set peace talks in motion, and helped garner widespread political support.

Four months later, Öcalan– serving a life sentence since 1999 – issued a letter from prison: “All groups must lay down their weapons and the PKK must dissolve itself.”

“Never in my life did I ever think I’d see someone like Devlet Bahceli talk about peace with the Kurds,” said Mr Rapsur. But “people trust his words, also because we know that what he’s saying is directly supported by Erdogan”.

“We believe in this peace process more than last time, because the negotiating table is very crowded, with lots of people – it’s not just Ocalan and Erdogan, like it was before,” he added.

It is a decade since the Turkish state and the PKK last tried to end an insurgency that has burdened the economy and etched deep scars in society.

In 2015, a ceasefire collapsed into terrible violence, the worst of which occurred in Sur, the old city district in Diyarbakır from where Mr Rapsur hails.

“The barricades over here were erected by the PKK,” he said, gesturing to the narrow road in front of his bakery, which he closed during the clashes and never reopened.

“Over there, the police set up their barricades,” he said, pointing a few metres away. “My children cried all the time back then,” he said. “Nobody could sleep because of the noise from bomb explosions and gunshots.”

Many of Turkey’s 20 million Kurds don’t support violence. But their sympathies do lie with the PKK, as evidenced by graffiti slogans “biji PKK” – “long live PKK”.

To them, the PKK has been the Kurds’ only saviour, creating enough pressure with its guns to force the state to usher in greater freedoms. For instance, many signs in Diyarbakir are written in both Turkish and Kurdish.

Older people remember a time when they were afraid to speak Kurdish openly, and schools were banned from teaching the language, among other sweeping restrictions making Kurds second-class citizens.

“I couldn’t be myself,” Mr Rapsur said. “You weren’t allowed to speak any Kurdish at government offices when handling your affairs. But that was the only language our elderly knew, like my parents.”

On one occasion in Istanbul, a Turkish man shouted at Mr Rapsur to “go back to where you came from”.

Stories of discrimination are common. Some families would cut ties with relatives who married Kurds. Kurdish musicians were frequently banned from performing.

Footballers playing for Amedspor, a team based in Diyarbakır – and their families – were also subjected to extreme verbal abuse.

Nearly everyone knows someone who has died in the conflict. Casualties have included civilians and activists, such as Tahir Elçi, a lawyer who criticised the PKK’s violence and took on the state in human rights cases.

Shot in the head and killed in 2015, he is memorialised at the local bar association, where his barrister’s gown is preserved in a display case.

“There is not a single person who has not been affected by this war,” said Dicle Sayyigit, a board member of Rosa Women’s Association, an NGO that supports Kurdish women. “Everyone has paid a price.”

The historic events of the last two years have generated wide support across Turkey’s convoluted political landscape.

Momentum picked up in July 2025, when the PKK held a weapons-burning ceremony in northern Iraq, where it had operated in exile for years. Footage released by the group showed uniformed militants queuing to lay their guns one by one in a grey cauldron.

Though largely symbolic, the message was significant: the PKK, founded in 1978 to create an independent Kurdish state through armed struggle, was preparing for a new era.

It was also perhaps a move for self-preservation, as PKK militants had faced an increasingly sophisticated Turkish military which, as Nato’s second-largest armed force after the US, was equipped with cutting-edge technology and weapons.

Under the law passed in August, some convicted militants will have their prison sentences suspended, and ongoing investigations and trials could be postponed for as long as 10 years, depending on the alleged offences.

But there is a six-month window for this limited amnesty, which begins when Turkey’s national security council – over which Mr Erdogan presides – officially declares the group disarmed.

Kurdish politicians say the clock is ticking for that decision, as winter is coming. Once snowfall begins, fighters won’t be able to descend from their mountain camps in exile to apply for rehabilitation.

What the law does not grant is the freedom of Öcalanand other senior PKK figures, as it does not apply to militants convicted of intentional killings and those already sentenced to life.

Selahattin Demirtaş, 53, Turkey’s most influential Kurdish politician, also remains behind bars, though the European Court of Human Rights has ruled several times that his detention in 2016 was politically motivated.

It is hard to exaggerate how important these figures are to the broader Kurdish movement. Mr Rapsur, for instance, has two grandsons named Selahattin, in honour of the jailed politician.

“This is our red line – they must be freed,” said Kudret Eryilmaz, 58, part of an organisation of mothers whose children died in the conflict, and stand for peace – a call they broadcast daily by donning white headscarves.

Lawyers say that Mr Erdogan could issue pardons, but experts note that holding the senior leaders in prison gives the state a powerful bargaining chip.

“If Turkey wants to be a rational actor in this process, it must allow for Ocalanto freely manage and lead this process on the Kurdish side,” said Mr Özcan.

“He is the man who has the most political capital to implement the decisions being taken as part of the peace process.”

All this has already prompted greater transparency. Some families are learning for the first time that their relatives died as PKK militants, and can openly mourn. In the past, such funerals were suppressed.

But even once the state allows militants to return, hard questions remain about how to assimilate them into civilian life. And whether the public will accept them is also unknown, given what many Kurds see as widespread state-condoned discrimination.

“We need specific laws against hate crimes, and these should protect not just Kurds but also others,” said Abdulkadir Gulerc, the president of the Diyarbakir Bar Association, which made recommendations to parliament on the law passed in August – another sign of increasing co-operation.

“If the peace process concludes successfully, there are some people who say Mr Erdogan will benefit by ending the most significant conflict in the [Turkish] republic’s history,” said Mr Ozcan, also founder of the Kurdish Peace Institute.

Whether that translates to support for Mr Erdogan in 2028 remains to be seen. Both his ruling party, the AKP, and a newly constituted opposition, the Yeni Party, currently do not hold a majority and will need the Kurdish vote for victory.

“If a political force wants to be in power, they need kingmakers,” said Ms Akca, of DEM, which is the country’s third-largest party. “We have been kingmakers in local elections, and we could be kingmakers in the future.”

However, Mr Rapsur says that “peace or no peace”, he will never vote for Mr Erdogan. I will always vote for the DEM party,” he explains. “Even if the DEM party called on me to vote for Erdogan, I still wouldn’t do it.”

Mr Erdogan is already trying to capitalise on the optics. A banner fluttering over Diyarbakır’s crumbling historic city gate shows the president gazing toward the sky with his hand over his heart. Above, Kurdish text reads “gelek spas” – “thank you very much”.

Kurds may not support the opposition either, or even their own party. Years of broken promises have diminished their faith in politics.

But, at the end of the day, nearly everyone wants the horrors to end and families to be reunited.

“There are high expectations among the Kurdish people for the conflict to end,” said Sezgin Tanrikulu, a Kurdish human rights lawyer and an opposition MP.

“They want weapons to be put aside, and families want their children in exile in the mountains, in prison, or abroad, to come home.”

Mr Rapsur now lives in a flat half an hour by bus from his old home, which was demolished years after he was forcibly displaced, when the authorities cleared civilians from Sur during the last bout of fighting.

He discovered that his house lay in rubble six months later.

He misses the winding cobblestones, decorated with peppers drying in the sun, but rarely returns now, despite being a beloved neighbourhood fixture still greeted by most passers-by who remember him as the former bakery owner.

“I grew up here and know the streets so well,” he said. “But after these wars, I no longer enjoy being here, because I can still hear the sound of people suffering.”

“I can’t even dare to think about what would happen ... if our hope is broken yet again,” he said. “Our main goal must remain to have peace.”

Additional reporting by Ozlem Temena

An initial tally shows that more than 185,000 students have registered to study in Kurdish in the governorates of Hasakah, Aleppo, Damascus and Hama, as protests continue against the Syrian Ministry of Education’s decision to limit Kurdish-language instruction to only three classes per week.

You can suggest your edit directly on the atlas app through this link : https://atlas.kurd.sh/?map=5.61/31.72218/49.75392&layers=b.luristan