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Middle East & North Africa
Deindustrialization in the Middle East and North Africa
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Middle East & North Africa
Sightlines Tunisia no.2: Judicial Repression and Economic Doldrums
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Noria Research
Ceasefire and the end of the PKK? Abdullah Öcalan and Turkey’s peace process
Processes of deindustrialization have set the course for postmodernity. Though its impact varies with geography, it is deindustrialization which defines the conditions of social, political, and economic life across most the world today. This is certainly so in the Middle East and North Africa (MENA). There, premature deindustrialization bequeaths legacies of grave and enduring salience. In the economic domain, effects are observable in the region’s struggles with job creation, productivity, growth, and macrostability. Socially, they are present in MENA’s extreme levels of inequality. Politically, deindustrialization contributes to democracy’s recurring failures to launch.
This report takes identifying the drivers behind deindustrialization in the MENA as its primary task. Based on months of desk research and an extensive exploration of the historical archive, we trace causality across time and beyond the borders of the region. Findings are many, prominently including the following:
(i) The early onsetting of deindustrialization in the MENA was provoked by the global economy’s drift into stagnation beginning in the late 1960s.
(ii) Due to global issues of overcapacity and falling profit rates, securing the investment needed to nurture competitive manufacturing sectors has been exceedingly difficult.
(iii) Though global dynamics did make opportunities for healthy industrializing scarce, they did not condemn MENA countries to the fates ultimately suffered. Political choices and policy errors also played a role in shaping the course of events. Critical in these regards were modalities of state-capital relations, inadequate policy design, and a series of contingencies derived from the management of natural resource endowments.
(iv) Neoliberalism’s resolution of capitalism’s profitability crisis harmed MENA’s industrial prospects significantly. The deepening of global value chains over the past forty years has been detrimental to capital accumulation. The enforcement of intellectual property claims has obstructed traditional pathways to industrial progress. Furthermore, competitive pressures have forced firms to adopt capital intensive forms of production, limiting industry’s capacity to absorb greater shares of MENA’s workforce.
(v) The corporate welfarism that many MENA governments have institutionalized in hopes of attracting foreign investment in recent decades is fundamentally misguided: The extension of non-conditional benefits to corporate actors serves only to minimize the social and developmental utility of a prospective investment.
Looking ahead, it is plain that deindustrialization will continue weighing heavily on the region’s outlook. For a better future to be realized, local policy officials and members of the international community alike will need reckon with the factors compelling deindustrialization. Materially, this requires rethinking the terms and incentives governing matters of production, trade, and investment.
This publication has been supported by the Rosa-Luxemburg-Stiftung. The positions expressed herein do not necessarily reflect the views of Rosa-Luxemburg-Stiftung.
As we move deeper into 2025, President Kaïs Saïed\’s war on political opponents nears its decisive (short-term) conclusion. Simultaneously, the economy remains adrift and tipping toward recession.
The Courtroom Crucible
The factor most animating Tunisian politics in the first quarter of 2025 is the judicialization of repression.
As soon as he seized full power, Kaïs Saïed made no secret of his intention to bring the judiciary to heel. Initially, he pursued this objective under the guise of “fighting corruption”. With that as pretext, he dissolved the Supreme Council of the Judiciary and assumed unilateral authority for dismissing judges. Those two maneuvers brought the independence of the judiciary to an end. The status of this branch of government was then degraded in the 2022 constitution, which describes the judiciary as a “function” of government.
More recently, Saïed set about weaponizing the judiciary. The pivot began in 2023 before accelerating in 2024. During these years, magistrates brought a wide range of cases against prominent figures from the realms of politics, media, and civil society. Dozens were arrested, with many prominent trials scheduled for 2025. Following the President’s landslide election last year, there were some hints—including allusions made by Saïed’s brother and campaign manager Naoufel Saïed—that repression via the courts would be eased. Alas, hopes for a grand change in the political climate were dashed by the head of state\’s virulent rhetoric and the continued arrests of dissidents.
On the positive side of things, early 2025 has seen a handful of persons released from prison. On February 25th, the Criminal Chamber of the Tunis Court of Appeals decided to release former Environment Minister Riadh Mouakhar, pending retrial. At the time he was freed, Mouakhar, a doctor and one-time member of parliament, had already spent twenty-five months in detention after being handed a three-year sentence on corruption-related charges by the Court of First Instance in November 2024. His lawyers have denounced the charges as totally frivolous.1
The same day as Mouakhar’s release the courts also ordered that journalist Mohamed Boughalleb be freed. Boughalleb is a fierce public critic of the President. He was arrested in April 2024 after an official from the Ministry of Religious Affairs filed a number of complaints against him. Charged and convicted under the expansive terms of Decret-Loi 54, Boughalleb was initially sentenced to six months imprisonment. His sentence was (ludicrously) expanded to eight months, however, after he lodged an appeal. What is more, upon serving out the eight months, Boughalleb’s detention was extended again after the authorities charged him with a second alleged press offense. Those charges remain on the books. It seems likely that Boughalleb was granted temporary freedom in order to spare the regime a potential scandal: In the lead-up to his release, the journalists\’ union and numerous human rights organizations had warned that Boughalleb’s health was deteriorating to the point of putting his life in danger.2 As he awaits his next trial, it is conceivable the authorities will rearrest Boughalleb once his health recovers.
Also provisionally released from prison in February was Sihem Ben Sedrine. Ben Sedrine chaired the Truth and Dignity Commission (IVD) and was responsible for leading the transitional justice process between 2013 and 2018. An enemy to many in the Ben Ali regime as well as to the luminaries of Béji Caïd Essebsi\’s government, Ben Sedrine referred 204 cases to the IVD during her tenure.3 Her investigations brought attention to a number of sensitive cases, some of which touched on foundational national narratives. For instance, under Ben Sedrine’s direction, the IVD commenced looking into the assassination of Salah Ben Youssef, one of President Bourguiba\’s rivals in the early days of his rise to power. At the outset, Ben Sedrine had been able to count on Ennahda as a sponsor and supporter. The party took a distance, however, after the IVD put the Siliana case on its agenda.4 It was this case, in fact, that ultimately led to Ben Sedrine’s arrest: An Ennahda-ally and former member of the IVD filed a complaint against Ben Sedrine claiming she “falsified” the final report for the Siliana investigation.5 Come August 1, 2024, the 74 year-old lifelong activist would be arrested on the charge of having done so. While allowed to return to her home last month—grace, to no small degree, of domestic and international mobilizations—Ben Sedrine still awaits trial and is currently forbade from leaving Tunisian territory.
Having garnered the most attention abroad, Ben Sedrine\’s release prompted Carthage to try restoring political legitimacy through the evocation of sovereigntist tropes. One of the regime’s primary targets in these regards is the United Nations Office of the High Commissioner for Human Rights (UNOHCR). Three special rapporteurs working for the UNOHCR—Bernhard Duhaime, Mary Lawlor, and Margaret Satterthwaite—called on February 18 for an end to all forms of persecution against opponents and activists in Tunisia. Responding to the UNOHCR, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs issued a press release recycling many of the falsehoods that the Saïed regime has propagated in prosecuting its political opponents. For instance, the statement alleged that a former Ennahda minister had “prepared 100,000 suicide attackers ready to carry out terrorist operations”. The government newspaper La Presse also denounced the UN as an “empty shell”.6
The timing of the UNOHCR’s intervention was made to coincide with the commencement of trials related to the so-called “plot against state security”. To recap, in February of 2023, the authorities brought charges against a wide range of dissidents accusing them of conspiring against the state. In the initial dragnet, six former elected officials, a lobbyist and citizen-national without immediate connection to politics were arrested. Over subsequent months, conspiracy charges were brought against another thirty-four persons—including businessmen and lawyers—though in the case of this second wave, the individuals in question were not subjected to pre-trial detention.
From the start, lawyers denounced the conspiracy case as spurious. Tellingly, judicial authorities refused to present the public with any evidence which might justify the charges being brought. They also banned media from reporting on the pre-trial phase of the case. Nor, alas, do the problems end there. The examining magistrate originally responsible for conducting the investigation ultimately fled the country to escape unrelated charges being brought against him. The security official responsible for initiating the original complaint against the defendants, meanwhile, has subsequently been convicted of corruption. At this stage, it appears that the case stands on the testimony of two anonymous witnesses, one of whom is also in prison for corruption.7
Predictably, the scenes on the first day of hearings for the conspiracy case (March 4th) were chaotic. Taking advantage of emergency legislation introduced during the pandemic, the authorities opted to try the defendants in a court closed to the public.8 Requests for a public trial and the release of persons hitherto detained were summarily rejected. The whole thing left mired in confusion, proceedings have been adjourned until April 11th.
And the season of judicial repression extends beyond the grand conspiracy trial. In early February, the first verdicts were delivered in the Instalingo case. The case centered on a media company of the same name that was accused of money laundering and plotting against state security. It implicated several formerly high-ranking government officials as well as senior leaders of the Ennahda party and a host of journalists. On the first Wednesday of February, the trial was concluded. The Second Criminal Chamber of the Tunis Court of First Instance handed out prison sentences totaling seven hundred years. Prominently, Ennahda president Rached Ghannouchi was sentenced to twenty-two years imprisonment. His son and son-in-law each received sentences of thirty-five years, as did one-time Prime Minister Hichem Mechichi in absentia. Former intelligence chief Lazhar Loungo was handed a thirteen year sentence. Chahrazade Akacha, a journalist currently on the run, got twenty-seven years while her colleague Chadha Haj Mbarek, detained since 2023, received a five year sentence.
The Instalingo case speaks to the impossibility of justice in the era of a politicized magistracy. Even if there is legitimacy in some of the charges leveled, as lawyer and former minister Mohamed Abbou insists, the judicial process is so deeply compromised by Carthage’s influence that there is no chance for a fair prosecution. Certainly, the (temporary) releases of Sihem Ben Sedrine et al give grounds for dreaming a better day may soon dawn. Unfortunately, inasmuch as the foundations of the current judicial apparatus remain unchanged, it is likely that waking hours will continue to be lived as a nightmare.
The Tunisian Economy as We Turn to Spring
The Tunisian economy trudges on in the first quarter of 2025. Inflation has continued to ease, offering some relief to cash-strapped households. Contrarily, while showing a degree of improvement, the latest growth figures (for the final three months of 2024) reveal enduring stagnation. The economy’s loitering just above levels qualifying as recession is conveying devastating effects onto the labor market. Net job creation continues to fail to keep pace with the arrival of new job seekers. Skyhigh youth unemployment and low labor force participation rates have thereby been rendered structural properties of the economy.
On the policy front, the outlook is distressing though not yet to the point of inviting crisis. Most relevant here are three developments. First, Saïed severed communication lines with the IMF in February. Treated in a vacuum, the decision is understandable—a review of the Fund’s recent history in Tunisia should make plain that it is no agent of salvation. Alas, Tunisia does not exist in a vacuum. And the reality is that the country needs external financing for productive capacity to be enhanced and the energy transition to be advanced: Evidence of the investment drought, where fixed capital formation represented 21-25% GDP between 2000 and 2010, the past few years have seen it average ~15%.
Were alternative sources of foreign capital to become available, shunning the Fund would be a reasonable choice. In the absence of such alternatives, however, intransigence may devolve into an act of self-harm. The yield on Tunisia’s outstanding Eurobonds today tops 18%, a figure attesting to the current impossibility of the country issuing debt internationally.9 Resent the fact though one might, this reality will only change with the blessing of the IMF. Should that blessing not be forthcoming, a prolonged era of disinvestment culminating in a more devastating capitulation may be en route. In this light, Saïed’s play can be seen as the dangerous gambit that it is, especially with there still being no signs that Algeria, the Gulf, or China will inject capital at scale without Tunisia first coming to terms with the IMF.
The second development concerns the President’s summoning of the Central Bank governor to Carthage at the end of February. Saïed used the occasion of Fathi Zouhair Nouri’s presence to (again) call for reform of 2016’s central bank law. The demand is an old song and dance of his, as Saïed has made a habit of demanding though never enacting formal change on this score. In many ways, doing so is a part of his sovereigntist performance: Appealing to those who would like to see neoliberal orthodoxies discarded, the President flirts with fully renanchoring the Central Bank within the state before stopping short of legislating so, lest he permanently close the door on Tunisia return to international capital markets.
Perhaps this time will be different. It seems more likely, though, that Saïed will stick to the status quo. Ambiguity, after all, has its (short-term) benefits. The Ministry of Finance can continue to borrow from the Central Bank to cover part of its deficits; the Central Bank, in notionally retaining its independence, can keep open the possibility of Eurobonds being issued down the road. Of course, here too Saïed plays with fire. Should the state’s borrowing from the Central Bank—projected at $2.2 billion for the year—threaten the Bank’s capacity to defend the Dinar, a currency crisis could quickly materialize, with drastic impacts for an import-dependent economy.
The third policy development deserving of mention is a new banking law which has restricted the use of payment by check. In its own language, the measure was introduced to control consumer debt. With credit cards not widely available and liquidity restraints high, Tunisians had long relied on post-dated checks to purchase items they did not currently have the cash to pay for. Since the new banking regulations were instituted in February, this option has been taken off the table. Predictably, the most immediate consequence has been a decline in consumption. Many small retail firms are coming under pressure as a result. For an economy already on the edge of a recession—and one where microenterprises in the retail trade are essential for propping up employment—this is an especially worrisome indicator.10
Lastly, there are a few happenings in the monetary and financial domain that need be flagged. Saliently, a ten-year bond came due in January. With no prospect of being rolled over, the Central Bank was required to transfer $1 billion to the bond holders. Doing so pushed the bank’s reserves down to TD 23.3 billion, or roughly USD 7.3 billion.11 In terms of days of import coverage, as of March 11, Central Bank holdings can only foot the bill for 101 days (down from 119 at the end of 2024). Mindful of the squeeze on hard currency, Central Bank governor Fathi Zouhair Nouri has urged the country’s commercial banks to reduce dividend payments: Typically, these transfer significant sums of dollars and Euros to the commercial banks’ external parent companies.
Concerning finance, though inflation has tracked down, interest rates remain high—the key interest rate is 8%. This is reducing borrowing demand from local companies. More disadvantageous to the latter, certainly, is Tunisian commercial banks’ lending to the Ministry of Finance. For 2025, Fitch estimates that the domestic financial sector will fund the state to the tune of TD 15 billion, a sum equivalent to 10.3% of 2024’s GDP.12 Claims on the state are now in excess of 21% the banking sectors’ assets.
1Staff Writer, “Le CRLDHT se réjouit de la libération de Riadh Mouakher”, Kapitalis (February 21, 2025)
2Staff Writer, “Detention arbitraire de journaliste de renom Mohamed Boughalleb”, Statement: Amnesty International (January 28, 2025).
3Staff Writer, “Tunisia: The Truth and Dignity Commission Available in English”, Statement: Avocats sans Frontières (July 24, 2020).
4As a reminder, in 2012, when Ennahda was leading the so-called troika coalition government, police fired buckshot at peaceful demonstrators in Siliana, some of whom lost their eyelids.
5Olfa Belhassine, “En Tunisie, le rapport ‘falsifié’ qui menace la justice transitionnelle”, JusticeInfo.net (March 23, 2023).
6Said Benkraiem, “Commentaire : L’ONU, cette coquille vide!” La Presse.tn (February 26, 2025).
7The witnesses’ anonymity is allowed in this instance because the charges are terrorism related.
8Staff writer, “Affaire de complot et procès a distance: La défense accuse et dénonce”, Kapitalis (February 26, 2026)
9Hafed al Ghwell, “Tunisia’s fiscal tightrope”, Arab News (March 8, 2025).
10Staff Writer, “’Got Cash?’ Tunisians grapple with new restrictions on cheques”, Agence France-Presse
11Souhail Karam, “Eurobond payment shrinks Tunisia’s Forex Reserves by $1 billion”, Bloomberg (January 30, 2025).
12Staff Writer, “Tunisian banks have sufficient liquidity to help meet sovereign financing”, Fitch Wire (January 30, 2025).
* Photo Credit: FIDH – International Federation for Human Rights, “Plenieres” (2011).
‘, ‘post_title’ => ‘Sightlines Tunisia no.2: Judicial Repression and Economic Doldrums’, ‘post_excerpt’ => ”, ‘post_status’ => ‘publish’, ‘comment_status’ => ‘closed’, ‘ping_status’ => ‘closed’, ‘post_password’ => ”, ‘post_name’ => ‘sightlines-tunisia-no-2-judicial-repression-and-economic-doldrums’, ‘to_ping’ => ”, ‘pinged’ => ”, ‘post_modified’ => ‘2025-03-18 10:41:28’, ‘post_modified_gmt’ => ‘2025-03-18 09:41:28’, ‘post_content_filtered’ => ”, ‘post_parent’ => 0, ‘guid’ => ‘https://noria-research.com/mena/?p=731’, ‘menu_order’ => 0, ‘post_type’ => ‘post’, ‘post_mime_type’ => ”, ‘comment_count’ => ‘0’, ‘filter’ => ‘raw’, )On Thursday February 27, Abdullah Öcalan, founder and (imprisoned) leader of the Kurdistan Workers’ Party (PKK), called on his party-movement to declare a ceasefire with the Turkish state and then disband. Öcalan’s announcement, the fruit of weeks of negotiations conducted in secret with representatives from Ankara, opens the door to a new peace process, but to a great deal of uncertainty as well.
Mathilde Thon-Fourcade spoke to Iris Lambert to take stock of the situation.
Colin Powers took care of the translation of this interview.
What influence does Abdullah Öcalan actually retain?
Since the PKK’s establishment as a political party in 1978 (and across its subsequent evolution into an armed movement), it has known one leader: Abdullah Öcalan. Founder, ideologue, and senior decision-maker, Öcalan has embodied the Kurdish liberation movement itself. For the fighters, he is the struggle incarnate. His words echo as those of a prophet.
Prior to his imprisonment on the Turkish island of İmralı in 1999, Öcalan often personally handled the teaching of ideology within PKK training camps. This was so during the party-movement’s time in Lebanon\’s Bekaa Valley, during their decamping for Syria, and during their residence in the mountains of northern Iraq. Aspiring guerrillas were subjected to Öcalan’s “Analyses” (Çözümlemeler) for long hours–some testimonies speak of speeches lasting up to 9 hours, during which orator and audience had to stand. The focus of these sessions ranged between military and political struggle. One recurring lesson was that emancipation could only be realized through spirit and arms.1 Over time, Öcalan’s teachings would be recorded and distributed through audio cassettes and books. Despite a now twenty-six year stay in prison, Öcalan’s words and story remain core to the socialization of PKK militants. For the movement’s activists and constituencies, Öcalan’s figure continues to represent the archetypal “New Man”. Things as basic as behavioral customs and rules–like the ban on crossing one’s legs–derive from Öcalan’s example and instruction. Instantiating what it is to be free from Turkish control and traditional (capitalist and patriarchal) social structure, “Uncle”, as he is affectionately referred, stands as model and guiding light.2
Recent developments, including, of course his abduction by Turkish intelligence in 1999 and subjection to solitary confinement starting in March 2020, have lessened Öcalan’s political gravity to a degree. Dynamics of internal competition between the different branches of the PKK contribute to this as well. Nevertheless, Öcalan remains the lodestar for the PKK itself and for many beyond. A number of Kurdish organizations, in fact–some armed, others political and civil–ground themselves in Öcalan’s ideological tenets and position him as their intellectual and/or political leader. The Kongra Star in Syria, a confederation of activist groups working specifically on gender equality issues, are one such example. Though they have no direct organizational link with the PKK, they have sworn allegiance to the struggle led by Abdullah Ocalan.
In light of the communication breakdown between Abdullah Öcalan and the PKK headquarters in the mountains of Iraqi Kurdistan (which commenced upon the former being condemned to solitary confinement in 2020), it was reasonable to wonder how Öcalan’s ceasefire declaration might be received. The initial official response from PKK headquarters, published March 1, indicated respect while leaving ambiguous whether the movement would follow its leader’s wishes to a tee. While repeatedly called “Leader Apo” (i.e. Uncle), the statement asserted that Öcalan’s release was still a prerequisite for beginning peace negotiations proper.
Lineage of Öcalan’s pivot
For Öcalan and the PKK, this is hardly the first flirtation with laying down arms. The organization’s first (unilateral) ceasefire declaration was actually made in 1993; Öcalan’s intervention in February takes the total number of ceasefire declarations up to nine. In many instances, moreover, these moves have been part of a larger attempt at demilitarizing the conflict. Two months after being sentenced to death by a State Security Court in June 1999, Öcalan had, through his lawyers, publicly called on PKK troops to withdraw from Turkey and abandon armed struggle altogether. Soon thereafter, his appeal against violence was anchored to a significant shift in political objective: Where once drawing the horizon at an independent or autonomous Kurdistan, Öcalan reset the target as the establishment of a truly democratic Turkey.3 The wider PKK signed off on the change of direction at the meeting of its 7th congress in northern Iraq. Arms were only taken up again in 2004–with the endorsement of Öcalan himself, it should be said–because Kurds in Turkey were unceasingly repressed in the intervening period.4 The PKK also engaged in a peace process in 2013 though this attempt at bringing the struggle to a conclusion fizzled out in 2015. Regardless, these initiatives, even in failure, showed the PKK would give up armed struggle if material and political conditions dictated it.5 What surprised some militants last month, then, was less that Öcalan might consider participating in another peace process, but that he would call for the disbandment of the PKK itself prior to doing so.6
If grounded in this history, Öcalan’s declaration on February 27 was also prompted by a series of more contingent developments. Specifically, it is the product of months-long secret negotiations. In hindsight, the first sign that something was afoot came in October 2024, when Turkish far-right leader Delvet Bahçeli, head of the Nationalist Action Party (MHP) and an ally of President Erdoğan, proposed that Öcalan give a speech to the Assembly before the parliamentary bloc of the pro-Kurdish People\’s Equality and Democracy (DEM) party. At the time, Erdoğan hailed Bahçeli’s plan as the opening of a “window of opportunity” for the advent of a Turkey “free of terrorism”. Though neither Bahçeli nor Erdoğan pointed to a larger peace process–and though neither mentioned that the idea of a speech at the Assembly had been run past Öcalan himself–this bold proposal hinted that a gambit was underway.
The (indirect) overture from Erdoğan is a function of shifting political incentives and ruptures within the regional environment. Concerning the former, the Turkish President knows he needs to secure the support of the Kurdish population–which represents 15-20% of the electorate in Turkey–to enact the constitutional reforms which would allow him to again stand for elections in 2028. Concerning the latter, the fall of the Baathist regime in Syria is especially critical. With Assad’s departure for Russia, Kurdish forces in the northeast found themselves in a precarious position, all the more so with Ankara-friendlies taking the helm of power in Damascus. Erdoğan recognized their precarity as presenting an opportunity for reaching a settlement that might bring greater stability to Turkey’s southern border.
How have the PKK\’s modes of action evolved in recent years?
The PKK\’s repertoire of action has never been fixed: It has always adapted to the strategic environment, with tactics mediated by political and to a lesser extent moral considerations. In the 1990s, the organization made the weighty decision to deploy suicide bombings, with women typically leading the operation.7 (Previously, the PKK had relied on conventional uses of explosives). The decision had an effect lasting through the present day. On October 1 of last year, a commando from the PKK’s “Immortals Battalion” carried out a suicide operation against the headquarters of the Turkish Defense Industries in Ankara. In addition to the woman who detonated the bomb, five were killed and twenty-two wounded.
Geographically, the majority of the PKK\’s armed operations take place in the Iraqi theater. Most concentrate in the Matine and Gara mountains of northern Iraqi Kurdistan. Predominantly ground assaults, they target the Turkish troops who have been deployed in the area for many years. Since 2022, Turkey’s military has been engaged in an offense against PKK militants there as part of the “Claw-Lock” operation. The broader objective of the operation is to establish a “security corridor” on the Turkish-Iraqi border with the ultimate goal of building a “development route” linking the Iraqi port of Basra with Turkey (and then Europe). Toward this end, Ankara had also emphasized rapprochement with Baghdad. Last spring, this resulted in Iraq’s government listing the PKK as a “banned” group. While not the designation (read: terrorist group) that Ankara hoped for, it was a step in the right direction.
In fighting the PKK, Turkey\’s technological superiority has always been a major source of advantage. In recent times, Ankara’s know-how in the production and deployment of reconnaissance and combat drones (notably the Bayraktar TB2) has proven particularly influential. Coupled with the use of air bombers, these drones have allowed Turkey’s military to vastly restrict the movements of PKK militants. (Note that the pursuit of the PKK has also caused forced displacements and resulted in civilian casualties.) Aiding the PKK as it navigates this military environment is the organization’s unmatched knowledge of the local topography. The group has, after all, occupied the mountains in question since the 1980s. If a spring 2024 announcement is anything to go by, the group may be building up defensive capacities for dealing with Turkish drones as well: According to the PKK, it now possesses ground-to-air weapons capable of shooting down Turkish drones.
In addition to military operations, the PKK’s repertoire of action contains a host of non-violent maneuvers: Political, artistic and cultural activism have been central to the group’s mode of struggle for the better part of fifty years. Recently, a number of new groups have sprung up to promote Abdullah Öcalan\’s ideology and his model of “democratic confederalism” through civil means. These organizations have often been banned and criminalized. This is so even in Iraqi Kurdistan, where the Kurdistan Society Freedom Movement (Tevgera Azadî) recently had to cease its activities (August 2024) following a decision by the Supreme Judicial Council of Iraq.
Could Öcalan\’s announcements have an impact on other pro-Kurdish armed parties in the region?
Put most simply, it depends on the armed party in question.
In the first communiqué issued following Öcalan\’s declaration, the Executive Committee of the PKK asserted the following: “We declare an effective ceasefire as of today. None of our forces will take armed action unless attacked”. The following day, the PKK\’s armed wing, the People\’s Defense Forces (HPG), issued a second declaration specifying that the ceasefire applied not only to its “main forces in Turkey” but also to “all structures, as well as special fedai teams [suicide squads], YPS [civil defense units], MAK [Aziz Güler Martyr Units] and other self-defense units”. All the units named fall under the direct command of the PKK\’s armed wing. All units not named–regardless of their level of affiliation with the PKK–are not subject to the HPG’s decision. Syria\’s armed Kurdish groups–specifically, the YPG and YPJ, which together help form the spine of the Syrian Democratic Forces (SDF)–made this expressly clear. Despite being denigrated as PKK proxies by Ankara, both disseminated public statements in the aftermath of Öcalan\’s declaration specifying that his decision was not binding upon them.8
In Iraq, the organization to watch is the Sinjar Resistance Units (YBS). The group formed after the start of the Sinjar battle in 2014, following Da’esh’s massacres of Yezidi communities. At that time, YBS received significant support from both the PKK and the YPG, both in the form of training or materiel. As the fight with Da’esh escalated, the YBS was integrated into Hachd Chaabi, the (Shiiite majority) coalition of paramilitary groups which waged the war on behalf of the Iraqi state. Once Da’esh was defeated, the organization’s relation with the Hachd and Iraqi state loosened. At the time of speaking, YBS is yet to publicly respond to Öcalan\’s declaration. Local sources, however, report that the organization has no intention of putting down its arms.
As for Iran, the picture is a bit muddled with the Iranian-Kurdish Party for a Free Life in Kurdistan (PJAK)9. Party leadership, based in the same mountains of northern Iraq as the PKK, did issue a statement in support of Öcalan\’s appeal. They did not, however, clarify what, exactly, they supported (i.e. ceasefire, disarmament,or disbandment).
Wither the PKK?
It would be premature to make any firm statement on the PKK’s future. In the first instance, we must await the determinations of a PKK congress. Per Öcalan’s declaration, it is only by the congress’ democratic decision that the question of dissolution can be decided. At this stage, it is difficult to predict which way the congress might turn. It is even more difficult, however, to imagine a congress actually being convened: Given the security situation and the manner with which the Turkish military hunts PKK militants, it beggars belief that a congress could be held any time soon.
Furthermore, it is important to recall that while endorsing Öcalan’s statement, the PKK has retained the right to continue defensive operations. In a sense, this leaves the PKK’s future in Ankara’s hands. Insofar as Ankara has yet to comment on the prospects of a ceasefire; insofar as Ankara’s official position is that the PKK must immediately and unconditionally dissolve prior to peace talks commencing; and insofar as the Turkish military did attack PKK outposts but a few hours after Öcalan’s statement, it is easy to imagine this whole thing running into an impasse in short order. For its part, the PKK has asserted two preconditions for disarmament: that “democratic policies and legal bases” be guaranteed in Turkey and that Öcalan be released. Talks currently underway in Ankara are alleged to center upon improvements to Öcalan\’s detention conditions, the release of political prisoners, a possible amnesty for PKK fighters and asylum in Iraqi Kurdistan for the group\’s cadres.10
PKK militants have often described their organization as a “living organism”, one that will adapt to survive in any environment.11 Regardless of circumstance, this constitutive nature means the group is unlikely to disappear from the scene altogether. The course of negotiations may well lead to disarmament. But then, war has always been politics by other means.
Notes
1Özcan, Ali K. (2006) Turkey’s Kurds. A Theoritical Analysis of the PKK and Abdullah Öcalan, New York, Routledge.
DOI : 10.1163/22112987-12340004
2 Grojean, O. (2008) « La production de l’Homme nouveau au sein du PKK », European Journal of Turkish Studies [en ligne], 8 | DOI: https://doi.org/10.4000/ejts.2753
3 Marcus, Aliza (2007) Blood and Belief. The PKK and the Kurdish Fight for Independance, New York et Londres, New York University Press.
DOI : 10.18574/nyu/9780814759561.001.0001
4 Ibid.
5 This is essentially what Öcalan underlined in his February 27 address. He states that “the closure of democratic channels has played a role in the PKK, the oldest and most extensive armed uprising in the history of the [Turkish] Republic, finding a social base and support”, before adding: “The appeal launched by Devlet Bahçeli, together with the willingness expressed by Mr. President and the positive responses of the other political parties to this appeal, have created an environment in which I launch an appeal to lay down arms, for which I assume historical responsibility.”
6 For example, in the northern Iraqi town of Silêmanî (or Souleymanieh), where the PKK has long had a foothold (particularly after 2014 and the battles against the Islamic State), PKK supporters gathered for the occasion in front of a giant screen exchanged bewildered glances at the announcement. All feared a resurgence of violence from Turkey, which has been conducting a large-scale offensive against PKK positions in the region since 2022
7 Altinay, E. (2013). « ‘The Terrorists with Highlights’: Kurdish Female Suicide Bombers in Mainstream Turkish Media », in: Attwood, F., Campbell, V., Hunter, I.Q., Lockyer, S. (dir.) Controversial Images. Media Representations on the Edge, Palgrave Macmillan, Londres.
8 Per commander Mazloum Abdi “Öcalan\’s message concerns the PKK and has nothing to do with us in Syria”.
9 The PJAK, created in the spring of 2004, forms part, along with the PKK, of a broader structure called the Kurdistan Communities Union (KCK), which brings together all the social, military, political and associative parties that lay claim to Abdullah Öcalan\’s doctrine.
10 Zaman A. (février 2025) End of an era? PKK leader Ocalan orders militants to end war with Turkey, \’dissolve\’, Al Monitor, accessible : https://www.al-monitor.com/originals/2025/02/end-era-pkk-leader-ocalan-orders-militants-end-war-turkey-dissolve
11 Interviews conducted by the author with PKK members, spring 2024.
Of course, the thought is not their own but Öcalan’s: “The tactical leadership must be able to switch from one form of organization and action to another as the situation demands…If necessary, it must develop new forms with sufficient speed”, the PKK founder wrote in his prison notebooks. See: Öcalan, A. (2020) La révolution communaliste : écrits de prison. Paris : Libertalia.
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