The PKK’s Disarmament and Turkey’s Fragile Search for Peace: Transitional or Transactional Justice?
July 11, 2025, may come to represent a historic moment for Turkey and its neighborhood. During a symbolic ceremony in Sulaymaniyah, Iraq, a small group of fighters of the Kurdistan Workers’ Party (PKK) laid down their weapons after four decades of a conflict that killed over 40,000 people. This hardly foreseeable scene followed a public appeal by the group’s imprisoned leader, Abdullah Öcalan. Broadcasted via video from the Imrali prison, where he has been jailed since 1999, his first message in over twenty-five years reiterated his recent call for the complete disbandment and disarmament of the PKK.
The magnitude of the moment is also demonstrated by the same Kurdish leaders who, 10 years ago, declared the end of the previous attempted peace process and the continuation of the armed fight. Now, figures like senior PKK member Cemil Bayik and co-chair of the Kurdistan Communities Union Hülya Oran (aka Bese Hozat), reiterated Ocalan’s message by stressing that the time for reforms has now come. Although suspicion and hope are intertwined at the grassroots level, the overall reaction of Kurds worldwide has been largely positive.
This is not the first attempt at peace, but many people in and outside Turkey hope it will be the last. Numerous overt and covert efforts have failed in the past, leading many to question whether the time is truly ripe for a new peace process —one that can bring sustainable peace not only to Turkey but also to the broader region. With a cauldron full of their weapons set ablaze, the return of PKK fighters to their camps metaphorically sends the ball back into the hands of the Turkish government, leaving many questions open on what lies ahead for a full-fledged resolution of the conflict. This implies that the government is now expected to go beyond pure military and security confrontations by paving the way for several reforms to meet some of the Kurdish requests at the sociopolitical level. A new parliamentary commission is yet to be set to oversee the process. Yet, the timing, context, and actors involved suggest that something has shifted, and that, potentially, this time, there might not be a way back.
An end to the armed conflict would undoubtedly benefit Turkey domestically and bolster its confidence in pursuing a more assertive role in the region. The broader regional dimension cannot be overlooked, let alone Turkey’s preoccupation with the uphill prospects of Kurdish integration into the new transitional government in Syria. What is clear is that developments across Turkish domestic politics, Syria’s state-building efforts, and the presence of other groups in challenging Iraq’s sovereignty are converging into a new and complex political moment. Whether this marks a genuine turning point or another short-lived opening remains uncertain. The pace of change has surprised many. But the real test lies ahead. The ceremony in Sulaymaniyah and Öcalan’s appeal are rich in symbolism. But symbolism alone is not enough. The real test lies in implementation. Will the PKK leadership follow Öcalan’s call? Will Ankara match its promises with consistent policy steps? And will both sides be willing to engage society in the process rather than managing it from behind closed doors?
A Long War, a New Message. But Why Now?
When Abdullah Öcalan called for the PKK to disarm on February 27, it was more than a symbolic gesture. Not only was it communicated through the so-called Imrali delegation, composed of members of the pro-Kurdish Peoples’ Equality and Democracy Party (DEM), but his statement also challenged the ideological legacy that once legitimized the PKK’s armed struggle. Founded in the late 1970s as an independentist movement, the group was shaped by the political turbulence of the post-1980 coup in Turkey and had its roots in Cold War Marxism. Over the decades, it adapted to changing conditions and found ways to survive despite all odds. Indeed, several overlapping factors explain the reasons behind the group’s dismantling.
A critical watershed was the failure of the previous peace process in 2015, when urban warfare resumed in southeastern Turkey. In the years that followed, Ankara significantly intensified and sophisticated its military operations against Kurdish militancy, considerably weakening the PKK and its organizational capacity. Turkish military superiority also coincided – or even prompted – the emergence and popularity of more moderate pro-Kurdish parties within Turkish politics’ electoral competition. As such, the PKK itself also gradually shifted from a demand for independence to calls for cultural rights and regional autonomy based on the concept of democratic confederalism.
In a sense, today, Öcalan’s message acknowledged that the ideological and geopolitical foundations of the PKK no longer hold. He described the group’s Cold War-era logic as obsolete and called for a transition from armed resistance to political dialogue. This is not the first time that the PKK has shifted its axis or transformed its strategy according to the needs of time. Already in the 1990s, the PKK had shifted to a more human rights-based framing of their needs and gave the signals that an independent state could not be the ultimate goal. In the 1990s, there were multiple ceasefires, which made it clear that the PKK might consider a negotiated solution over a military one. During the previous peace process, which collapsed in 2015, the Kurdish movement was promoting democratic autonomy and was already ready to rebrand the PKK. Throughout the years, there was a strategic axis shift from secessionist nationalism to grassroots democracy and minority rights while keeping Turkey’s existing borders. Öcalan’s recent appeal, however, was remarkable not only for its content but for how it resonated across a regional environment that has changed dramatically in a decade. Today, the PKK operates across several fronts. It maintains networks in Iraq, Syria, and Europe, and exercises indirect influence through affiliated movements such as the People Protection Units (YPG) and the Syrian Democratic Forces (SDF). Over the years, Ankara has spent billions of dollars in its fight against the PKK, dedicating substantial resources not only in economic terms but also in logistics, politics, and intelligence operations. Any attempt to dismantle or transform the PKK, as well as to address the Kurdish question more broadly, is undoubtedly the result of dynamics operating both within and outside Turkey.
A Region in Flux: Peace Abroad, Peace at Home
Everything comes in the same week that the pro-Kurdish Syrian Democratic Forces and the new Syrian transition government led by Ahmed Al-Sharra held another round of negotiations, mediated by the US and France, aimed at the integration of Kurdish fighters into the emerging Syrian National Army. This agreement, first reached in March, is still unfolding and keeps representing one of Turkey’s main concerns at its borders. Ultimately, questions remain open about whether the Iraqi Kurdistan Regional Government’s support for this process will cement or split Kurdish demands in Iraq.
Amid uncertainty, much depends on the role and next moves of the United States. In recent years, Washington has begun reducing its military footprint in Syria, with an impulse after the fall of Bashar al-Assad in December 2024. The prospects of a power vacuum created uncertainty for Kurdish groups like the SDF and the YPG, who previously relied on Washington’s protection, particularly in the northeast. Thanks to their decisive role in the international coalition against ISIS, they earned the respect of several international governments. Yet, Ankara’s view of the YPG as an extension of the PKK terrorist network has long been a source of tension with its Western partners and other regional actors.
Second, the regional order is in flux after the October 7 attacks by Hamas. The subsequent escalation between Israel, Iran, and the United States has increased Turkish concerns about domestic and cross-border security. In this climate, internal stability becomes a strategic asset for Ankara to prevent spillover effects. A functioning peace process with the Kurds could allow Turkey to reallocate political and military resources to other pressing fronts and pursue a more assertive policy in the region with boosted self-confidence and capacity. As a matter of fact, this time, pressure from Washington could work in its favor. The US ambassador to Turkey and special envoy for Syria, Thomas Barrack, seems uneasy with the lack of progress in the talks between al-Shara and the SDF. As such, this also presents an opportunity for Turkey to mend its relations with the US and, consequently, increase its leverage in Syria and beyond.
In such a context, Kurdish actors may now be more inclined to seek political accommodation rather than risk military confrontation. Yet only their full sociopolitical and military integration within the new Syrian government can represent a real step forward. Otherwise, this risks fomenting disengagements among Kurdish groups about whether to seek dialogue or split into new armed formations to maintain independence from central governments.
The Delicate Calculations at Home
At home, the political atmosphere has also shifted quickly. Although Turkish politics never cease to surprise, the handshake in parliament between Devlet Bahçeli, the ultranationalist MHP leader and Erdogan ally, and members of the DEM Party earlier last year caught everyone by surprise. There is no doubt that such a move by a figure with a long record of staunch anti-Kurdish positions opened a window that few could have anticipated. For those who are familiar with peace processes worldwide, it is no surprise that secret talks might have taken place behind closed doors.
Surely, having Bahçeli on the forefront was strategic for Erdogan to maintain a more cautious approach. The fact that the initiative was initially labeled only as “Terror-free Turkey” is quite telling about his bet: in case of success, taking full political credit for resolving the most contentious issue in Turkey’s history; in case of failure, being ready to pull out and increase nationalistic tones, or even a resort to securitization. Lately, seeing Öcalan’s call closer to materializing, Erdogan softened his rhetoric and began referring to a broader social peace, acknowledging the state’s historical failures in addressing the Kurdish issue.
However, considering the current political context in Turkey, it is difficult to view his recent moves as purely genuine. Instead, they seem driven by necessity. Faced with shrinking electoral support, growing opposition momentum, and the limits imposed by the constitution on his political future, Erdoğan appears to be recalibrating his strategy. It comes as no surprise that experts ask for a more cautious approach while underlining that the peace process should not become a smokescreen for deepening authoritarianism.
It is now clear that, after more than two decades in power, President Erdoğan is facing the most serious political crisis since 2003, the year his party first came to power on the promise of stability and reform. Back then, Erdogan’s Justice and Development Party (AKP), offered hope to a country weary of coalition governments, economic instability, and political uncertainty. The rest, from the 2013 Gezi Park protests — a nationwide wave of demonstrations sparked by environmental concerns but quickly expanding into a broader challenge to Erdoğan’s rule — to the 2016 failed coup attempt, is well known. The coup’s failure triggered a sweeping purge of perceived opponents, a drastic centralization of power, and an ensuing period of accelerating authoritarianism and democratic backsliding. Today, the crisis is tangible, and Erdoğan’s struggle to retain control appears to be pushing him to reconsider even the most sensitive issues, first among them, the Kurdish question. Some argue that Erdoğan has always had an interest in resolving the Kurdish issue through peaceful means, as evidenced by the 2015 peace initiative.
However, the reality tells that over the years, Erdoğan and his party have gradually lost popular support, culminating in the 2019 local elections, which saw the oppositional Republican Peoples’ Party (CHP) win the country’s largest cities for the first time. The 2024 local elections confirmed this shift when, for the first time, the CHP surpassed the AKP in absolute terms at the national level. These events marked the beginning of new opposition leaders and practices in Turkish politics, where, despite its authoritarian outlook, electoral competition kept existing. Above all, Istanbul Mayor Ekrem İmamoğlu rose to national prominence as a figure many viewed as the only serious challenger to Erdoğan, at least until his imprisonment in March on charges of corruption and terrorism.
That is why, facing growing pressure and possibly looking to amend the constitution to remain in power beyond 2028, President Erdoğan has opened to dialogue with the Kurdish movement. His approach towards the peace process seems not as enthusiastic as it was during the Kurdish Opening before the failed peace process in 2015. Yet, he might perceive the resolution of the armed conflict as beneficial for his party as well as his own standing. Indeed, for any constitutional reform, support from the DEM is the only possible way to achieve a constitutional amendment. This reality creates a shared, if fragile, interest in engagement. Whether this leads to a lasting resolution or merely serves short-term political survival remains an open question.
As the process has not been fully transparent, the jury is out whether the negotiations overlap with the topics that were previously covered in the Dolmabahce meetings and were supposed to constitute a roadmap. The public has still not been fully informed about what kind of peace is on offer. Is Turkey moving towards transitional justice — a topic that has been widely discussed between 2013 and 2015? Will the negotiations end with a meaningful settlement that comes with a genuine reckoning with past violence, inclusion of Kurdish political voices in mainstream politics, and, more importantly, a much demanded and needed institutional reform? Or, are the sceptics right about interpreting the process as a transactional interaction between the two sides without embedded approaches toward justice and reconciliation? In other words, are we witnessing transactional justice, or partial peace, where both sides are focusing on short-term gains without really addressing the root causes of the conflict?
Blind Spots and Stakes for Turkish Democracy
The core question remains: what does the Kurdish side gain in exchange for the PKK’s disarmament?
Erdogan announced the formation of a parliamentary commission to oversee the legal steps of the peace process, suggesting a more institutionalized and transparent approach than in previous attempts. This is important for a number of reasons. Firstly, these commissions are key legislative bodies that can propose legal reforms and provide oversight on sensitive political processes, such as the ongoing process. Secondly, unlike the informal wisemen commissions of the previous process, this new commission will form a more formal approach as it is embedded within the Turkish Grand National Assembly. It can produce a more institutionalized and less haphazard approach.
By August 5, it became clear that the process is elite-driven and there is not much room for grassroots-level interventions. This is not to say that the process is doomed to fail due to a lack of civil society interventions at these early stages. Many peace processes in the world, from Colombia to South Africa, benefited from parliamentary interventions, cross-party commissions, or special legislative commissions for peace. These tools and implementation methods, which fast-tracked and oversaw laws, opened up platforms for debates surrounding peace and reconciliation. By including elected members of the parliament, they created trust and a sense of democratic legitimacy among the people, who also need to be persuaded for sustainable peace.
On August 5, 2025, the Turkish Parliament launched a 51-member committee, officially named the “National Solidarity, Brotherhood and Democracy Committee,” to oversee the peace initiative. It includes representatives from nearly all major parties, including the opposition. Among these parties, attention centers on those with greater representation, as they have the potential to alter the balance of power during voting. The CHP has joined, demanding overall democratization measures in the process. Despite a potential backlash from its nationalist constituencies by joining the committee, the CHP made a brave move, and it can be said that its participation lends the process a degree of national consensus that previous efforts lacked. Moreover, its participation in the committee also makes it harder for opponents to frame the initiative as purely an Erdoğan/AKP–DEM (pro-Kurdish) pact. The CHP members also underlined that their focus is on the rule of law, separation of powers, and press freedom, which in the long run unpacks the issues related to democratic backsliding in Turkey. The nationalist-secular Good Party (IYI) declined participation and organized numerous meetings all around Turkey to criticize the process. However, as it stands, it does not have enough leverage to spoil the process. The DEM made declarations stating that they support a democratic framework, including collective rights for Kurds (such as education in their mother tongue and steps toward strengthening self-local governance) as well as demands for revisiting Öcalan’s sentence. The committee’s second session was held on August 8 under closed-door conditions — all proceedings have been classified as state secrets for at least the next decade, and the transcripts of the meetings will be sealed until at least 2035. This move aims at protecting negotiators from domestic pressure and paves the way for giving room for compromise.
What Lies Ahead
One could think of this as a period of transitional justice, characterized by incremental reforms. Yet, at the constitutional level, there are limits to what can be negotiated. Foundational articles such as those defining the name of the Republic or the status of the Turkish language are unlikely to be amended. However, other provisions, including Article 66 on citizenship and Article 42 on education rights, may be brought to the table. These changes could serve as legal entry points for a new, more inclusive framework of political belonging, but are less likely to address the core sociopolitical cleavages embedded in Turkey’s history.
Second, there are concerns about selective communication and a lack of transparency in the process. The fact that the talks are managed by Turkey’s intelligence agency (MIT) and that Öcalan remains the key interlocutor, evidences the absence of a real political and inclusive roadmap. Some reports suggest that not all members of the İmralı delegation are fully informed of the steps being taken. Such a top-down approach leaves little clarity about who speaks for the Kurds beyond the PKK and makes it difficult to see any role for civil society actors. Ankara may believe that secrecy is necessary to avoid sabotage. However, such an approach could create mistrust and limit the chances of building lasting public support for any final agreement.
Ultimately, building trust and talking of democratic peace in an increasingly authoritarian context makes it no easier. Government officials have hinted at the possibility of amnesty for Kurdish prisoners. The release of figures like Selahattin Demirtaş, the jailed former co-chair of the HDP, would send a strong positive message about the government’s intentions. Yet, the stalemate on the issue highlights the contradiction between what appears to be more of a political than a peace process. If it is true that the Kurdish question has long prevented Turkey from being a full democracy, it is also true that a democratic solution is hard to imagine in a context of ongoing repression of opposition voices.
Paradoxically, a long list of opposition mayors, including Istanbul’s mayor Imamoglu, was arrested with initial charges of connection with terrorist organizations. A similar practice of dismissing and replacing city mayors has not stopped in Kurdish majoritarian areas. Overall, following the March 2025 wave of protests, the government has increased its grip on power, curbing the media and further restraining the space for dissent. This contradiction may limit the legitimacy of the peace initiative, particularly if it appears driven more by political calculus than by a genuine commitment to reconciliation, especially in a context where the Turkish public remains generally skeptical.
If the process unfolds positively, the consequences would be far-reaching. The state would no longer be locked into a costly and politically polarizing conflict. Funds and energy currently devoted to security operations could be redirected to economic and social priorities. Relations with neighbors could improve. Turkey’s global image, particularly among Western partners, could benefit from a more constructive and less securitized domestic agenda.
Once again, the Kurdish movement has reemerged as a pivotal actor in shaping the political future of the Levant. The current moment may offer a more favorable alignment of interests than in the past. But much remains uncertain, especially with the possibility of early elections in Turkey as soon as 2027. This makes the months ahead critical. Whether this becomes a historic breakthrough or another missed opportunity will depend on the choices made now.
The post The PKK’s Disarmament and Turkey’s Fragile Search for Peace: Transitional or Transactional Justice? appeared first on Small Wars Journal by Arizona State University.