Signed on 24 July 1923, at the Rummine Palace in Lausanne between Turkey, Britain, France, and their allies, the treaty became internationally known as the “Lausanne Peace Treaty.” However, its implementation marked the beginning of a deep tragedy for the Kurdish people and Kurdistan, including cultural and physical genocides.
This treaty, which legitimized the partition of Kurdistan into four parts under colonial powers, handed the future of the Kurdish people over to Arab, Persian, and Turkish rule. Even after 102 years, the treaty continues to leave deep scars in Kurdish history and persists as a “legitimate” basis for ongoing violations of rights.
Each time the Kurds attempt to live freely and with dignity in their own land, or express demands for peace and democracy, the fear of Lausanne, the ideological backbone of Turkish nationalism, is reactivated.
So why does the Lausanne Treaty occupy such a central place in the official memory? Why is it so difficult to question Lausanne, and why is doing so seen as treason? Does debating Lausanne mean tampering with the foundational codes of the state? What is Article 39 of Lausanne, and why was it never implemented?
ANF interviewed Swiss historian Hans-Lukas Kieser, a professor at the University of Zurich, known for his work on the late Ottoman Empire and modern Turkish history.
Mr. Kieser, you have made important contributions to the study of the late Ottoman Empire and modern Turkish history. When we talk about the history of modern Turkey, the first thing that comes to my mind is the Treaty of Lausanne. Why does Lausanne occupy such a central place in the official memory of the Turkish nation-state’s foundation?
The Treaty of Lausanne was also seen and felt by the Kemalists of the time as a great diplomatic victory following a great military victory in the War of Independence, which had taken place earlier and was, let’s say, the reason why the Treaty of Sèvres was revised in Lausanne. One just has to read the Nutuk, Atatürk’s extensive speech, to understand how central Lausanne is in the nationalist Turkish understanding of history. It is sacralized, it is a triumph, a culmination, a high point in Turkish millennial history, as Atatürk puts it in the Nutuk.
Criticizing Lausanne is often seen as anti-national or even treasonous. Why has this treaty become such a political taboo even today?
Precisely because, as we just mentioned, it has been sacralized within a national or nationalist system of thought. That makes it very delicate to talk about it or to question certain aspects of the treaty—even though, of course, a critical view of the treaty, of the Lausanne Conference, and of the nation-state’s foundation history is necessary.
But criticism can always be constructive. And when I say that, I mean criticism that leads us toward a better future. I’m talking about democratic criticism, and any criticism that is democratic and leads to more democracy is, by definition, constructive.
In other words, overcoming the taboo of criticizing the Treaty of Lausanne can only be achieved through democratic discourse, one that is convincing and makes it clear to everyone that the current situation, the status quo, comes at too high a cost to remain unchallenged.
In a previous interview, you argued that questioning or discussing Lausanne should not be seen as an attempt to destroy the state, but as a step toward initiating democratic debate. Why is it still so difficult to get this distinction accepted in public discourse today?
Well, we’ve actually already answered that. The problem lies in the internalization of Lausanne as the sacred, culminating point of nation-state formation. This leads to a situation where everyone, or at least all nationalists (and as you know, there are many in Turkey), cannot bring themselves to question Lausanne. Even those who identify as left-wing or liberal often remain nationalists at heart. They are unable to question Lausanne in the name of liberal or socialist thought. In fact, they are more nationalist than liberal or leftist.
So yes, the problem is this sacralization, which we can see very clearly and explicitly in the Nutuk.
Is discussing Lausanne, despite it being such a taboo, truly necessary for the democratization of the country?
It is absolutely and profoundly necessary to discuss Lausanne, and, as I said earlier, to do so within a constructive framework aimed at a more democratic future. Otherwise, we remain stuck in a kind of dead end, trapped by nationalist thinking and principles that prevent us from moving toward a better future for everyone in Turkey. One cannot seriously claim that this country is a happy one.
That would be a serious illusion, especially if we look back at the past century since the Treaty of Lausanne.
When we look at Lausanne’s impact on minorities, what were the developments between the Treaty of Sèvres and Lausanne that led to the complete exclusion of Kurdish rights?
A lot happened. Let’s highlight a few important points.
On the international level, there was growing disunity among the Allies who had been the guarantors of the Treaty of Sèvres. They no longer supported the treaty: Italy, but also France, and eventually even Britain withdrew its support. That was one of the major developments.
And of course, as we’ve already mentioned, there was Ankara’s military victory in the wars in Anatolia against the ex-Unionist movement. If we look closely, we see that it was the forces of the Committee of Union and Progress (CUP) that reorganized and ultimately founded the Ankara government in 1920. They had to fight wars to assert themselves—and they won those wars.
These were wars against non-Turkish indigenous peoples, Armenians, Greeks, and also Kocgiri (Alevi Kurds). Let’s not forget the Kocgiri. There were also Muslims who did not agree with the reorganized ex-Unionist movement based in Ankara. We must also remember those who were still aligned with the Sultan in Istanbul.
In short, the military victory led to a major shift that allowed for a near-total revision of the Treaty of Sèvres in Lausanne, and the rights of the Kurds were excluded.
Why? We’ve already partially explained it, but another factor is that most Sunni Kurdish leaders have aligned themselves with Ankara. So they no longer insisted on gaining independence or even a significant degree of autonomy. That was the internal factor—very different from the situation three years earlier.
Was the exclusion of Kurds in the Treaty of Lausanne a conscious choice within the framework of the nation-state project?
It went even deeper than just a momentary choice. It was a core element of founding Turkish nationalism. We can already see during World War I that the Unionists wanted to assimilate the Kurds and turn them into Turks.
The belief that Turkishness and Turkish nationalism were inherently superior, and that the Kurds could be assimilated, was deeply embedded in Turkish nationalist thinking. So yes, it was a strategic decision, but one rooted in Turkish nationalism since the 1910s.
Such an approach was not possible under Sèvres because the ex-Unionists were still weak at the time. But after their victory and alliance with the Bolsheviks, they were able to impose their project, which meant that Kurds would not be granted minority status or a national identity of their own.
After the Treaty of Lausanne, the Kurds not only suffered cultural genocide but were also physically massacred in places like Dersim, Zilan, and still today across the four parts of Kurdistan. If the Kurds had been recognized in Lausanne, would Turkey’s political history have taken a different path?
Certainly, of course. But it’s somewhat hypothetical, very hypothetical, because, as I just mentioned, the founding mindset at the time was incapable of imagining a pluralist future. A future that accepted other identities and envisioned Asia Minor with equality among those identities, such as the Kurds.
Of course, there were many other indigenous identities as well, especially non-Muslim ones, which were outright unacceptable to the former Unionists. As for the Kurds, they were somewhat acceptable—but only under the condition of assimilation. So yes, theoretically, very hypothetically, history would certainly have unfolded very differently if Turkish nationalism had been pluralist, meaning capable of envisioning a future that acknowledged and accepted other cultural and ethnic identities indigenous to Anatolia.
After the Treaty of Lausanne, many uprisings took place. One of them, the Sheikh Said Rebellion, occurred in 1925, not long after Lausanne. Do you see a direct link between the diplomatic erasure of the Kurds and the emergence of armed resistance?
Absolutely. It’s like the “elephant in the room,” as the English say. It was the massive backdrop to the uprising. But it’s also worth mentioning that Sheikh Said didn’t talk directly about Lausanne, he talked about the loss of the Caliphate and the tyranny of the Kemalists. However, the abolition of the Caliphate is indeed linked to Lausanne. While not stated explicitly, the end of the Caliphate was an implicit promise made during the Lausanne Conference.
So yes, Lausanne absolutely forms the critical background.
Several other uprisings followed. The longest lasting, and still ongoing, is the PKK. Can we say that the PKK is a consequence of the Lausanne status quo?
In a way, yes, we can say that. Because Lausanne represented the denial of Kurdish identity, culture, and even language, even though if you carefully read Article 39 of the Treaty, all languages spoken in Asia Minor should have been recognized, including Kurdish. Not just the languages of non-Muslims, but of all inhabitants. The article is very clear.
In this sense, the Kemalist state did not keep its word as signed at Lausanne. To return to your question—the reality of Lausanne, or more precisely, how it was interpreted and implemented by the Turkish state, is absolutely the foundational cause for why a movement like the PKK eventually took up arms. It was a way of asserting, through force, that Kurds exist and have rights, according to universal principles as outlined in the founding texts of the United Nations and states in general. So from a fundamental rights perspective, Kurds also have rights, but Lausanne deprived them of basic rights. So yes, Lausanne remains the backdrop to the bloodshed we’ve seen toward the end of the 20th century.
But let me repeat: Lausanne as interpreted and enacted by Ankara. It could have been implemented differently.
Whenever Kurds demand peace and democracy, there seems to be a resurfacing fear of Lausanne. To what extent does the “spirit of Lausanne” continue to shape Turkey’s policies towards Kurds today?
Well, as we just said, this very narrow interpretation, particularly in contradiction to Article 39, has continued and still persists to some extent. However, with the rise of the AKP, there seemed to be some recognition that Lausanne was a mistake—or at least recognition of the destructive reality that has resulted from such a rigid and even incorrect interpretation of the treaty. So yes, there’s a sort of schizophrenia.
On the one hand, Turkey still clings to the Kemalist interpretation of Lausanne. On the other, there’s an attempt, or desire, to move in a different, more prosperous direction toward coexistence, maybe even democratic coexistence. But there’s hesitation. And this hesitation is rooted, as we just said, in the sacralization of Lausanne, and also, very importantly, in the anti-democratic legacy of the Turkish nation-state’s founding, including during Lausanne. This must be overcome.
Abandoning and moving beyond the authoritarian and anti-Kurdish interpretation of Lausanne is difficult, considering a century of history. But it’s a necessary step if Turkey wants to find a democratic path forward.
Can we define the current Kurdish struggle in many areas as a struggle against the Treaty of Lausanne?
In a sense, yes. If we take “Lausanne” to represent everything we’ve discussed—authoritarianism, even dictatorship (because after Lausanne, Ankara quickly became a dictatorship, as you know, under a single leader)—and if under that label we include the denial of Kurdish identity, which is indeed very tightly linked to the Lausanne Conference, then yes, it is fair to say that this is, in some way, a struggle against Lausanne.
However, I think it would be wiser and more accurate to say it’s a struggle against the authoritarian and restrictive, and indeed false, interpretation of the Lausanne Treaty. False, because Article 39 was not respected.
As you know, there is currently a peace process between the Turkish state and the Kurdish movement, namely the PKK and its leader Abdullah Öcalan. How do you evaluate this process? Is real peace possible, or…?
As I said, there is hesitation, almost schizophrenia. On one side, there’s talk of peace, and some genuinely want peace, including some currently in power in Ankara. Even someone like Devlet Bahçeli appears to be undergoing a surprising transformation. But others are stuck in this hesitation.
They fear losing privileges and fear the loss of authoritarian control, which would naturally occur if more democracy were accepted. If the Lausanne Treaty is reinterpreted differently, the way the Kemalists initially imposed a very narrow and false interpretation, then yes, opportunities do exist.
We have to see things soberly, but still recognize the chance. In my opinion, there is a chance—but we must approach it with necessary skepticism, especially after everything we’ve experienced. That doesn’t contradict being open, flexible, and agile. Perhaps we can cross the threshold of authoritarianism, escape the prison of an authoritarian Turkey. We must remain persistent in this democratic struggle.
As you know, since Hamas’s attack on Israel on October 7, a new era has begun in the Middle East. Borders might change. Is it time to reconsider the Treaty of Lausanne and Sykes-Picot?
Yes, though Sykes-Picot should be somewhat relativized. Lausanne is the actual treaty. Sykes-Picot was a set of secret agreements.
But the valid treaty is Lausanne, and it’s not 100% Sykes-Picot. Still, your question is important, especially in light of Hamas’s pogrom and the war in Israel that followed.
And of course, the fall of Assad’s regime. A lot is in motion. From my point of view, the future belongs to democracy.
It sounds abstract, I know. But the Middle East is being reshaped. In the long term, the only thing that truly offers a future to the people there—in terms of dignity, life, and survival, is democracy.
So the key question is: where do we find the seeds or potential for democracy? And I honestly believe the Kurds are at the forefront.
I’m not talking about ideal democratic situations in Syria, Iraq, etc., but rather democratic potential, a political will, a political imagination oriented toward democracy. The Kurds are leading in this, even without a state.
Of course, I still see democratic potential in Israel, which has existed from the beginning. But it has been severely stifled in recent decades by successive right-wing governments. So yes, democratic potential exists in various places, including among Arab groups. Let’s not forget the Arab Spring.
In general terms, though, I see a strong Kurdish democratic potential that has been proven, despite everything, not in an ideal context, but proven over the past ten years, in Syria (Rojava), in Turkey (through the HDP and now DEM Party, which, thankfully, is not purely Kurdish but clearly the most democratic). So there are clear indicators, and of course, we can also talk about Iraq.
I believe a lot is changing. The Kurds are at the rear-guard in many places. Everything remains fragile and unpredictable. But in the long term, I’m convinced that those who have learned to organize democratically, because democracy is learned, not innate, will play a positive role in the Middle East’s future.
Democracy takes work, always has, always will. And those who commit to it can help shape a better future.
You mentioned the historical developments and opportunities arising in the Middle East. In such a critical moment, do you perceive any major problems or divisions among Kurdish movements themselves?
For a long time, and still partly today, rivalries between clans or factions have existed, some remnants of tribalism. But I would say that in the last two or three decades, we’ve seen real progress.
I get the sense, especially in recent months and years, that those old divisions are slowly being overcome. There’s a more modern vision for the future, a better understanding of the present, and a pursuit of what I always call a democratic process. But that also means a pragmatic and international outlook, being aware of international actors and engaging with them.
This democratic process comes with rationality, and the Kurds have made real progress. In the past, Kurds were easily divided, especially during and before Lausanne, because there was no shared political vision, no capacity to imagine a national or democratic future.
That has changed. While problems remain, there has been substantial progress, particularly in cooperating with diverse international actors. Democracy cannot rely on a single powerful player. It requires flexibility and sincere engagement with multiple parties to achieve something better for the people being represented.
My impression is that the Kurds have made great strides in overcoming past rivalries, divisions, and inability to imagine a new future.