Survival optimism turns into revolutionary freedom

In today’s politics, body language is like the history engraved in a people’s subconscious. Just as the Northern Irish silently resisted by putting their hands in their pockets before the British monarchy, every gesture and glance of the Kurds now carries a symbolic meaning. Sometimes distance hides within a handshake; sometimes hierarchy becomes visible in a photograph. The command of the ruler can be read not only in law but also in the body and in symbols and it is precisely there that resistance begins: in a silent stance, in a head held high. Revolutionary freedom begins when one recognizes this memory inscribed onto the body beyond words.

Yaşar Kemal, whom I remember with deep respect, once said while describing Dostoyevsky’s The Idiot that even on the edge of an abyss, a person never gives up the desire to live: “Place a man on the edge of an infinite abyss, with nothing below but endless emptiness and only an inch of ground to stand on, and still, that man will want to live.”

These lines describe not only an individual truth but also the collective one. For a century, the Kurdish people have been standing at the edge of an abyss, struggling to breathe within the narrow space imposed by colonialism, denial, and racism. The will to live of this people represents one of the longest and most dignified resistances in human history. The issue is no longer merely to live, but to make live, that is, to rebuild.

It is precisely at this point that French writer Giuliano da Empoli, in his essay L’ère des prédateurs (The Age of Predators), defines the character of our time as follows: “Today, as in certain periods of history, we live in an environment that gives priority to the aggressor. There are no longer any rules, only predators. Two types of predators dominate this era: the political predators, figures such as Donald Trump, Mohammed bin Salman, and Bukele who make action the only law and propaganda the only method; and the technological predators, the lords of the digital world. They have built a new ecosystem where the aggressor always holds the advantage, where attacking is free but defending has become exceedingly costly.”

The last line of humanity’s defense

Empoli’s words fully capture the spirit of our age. Power today no longer rests on law but on aggression, not on organization but on spectacle, not on ethics but on impact. Therefore, the existence of the Kurdish people today is not merely the defense of a nation, it is humanity’s final line of defense in this predatory era. For in the world we live in, survival has ceased to be a biological act; it has become a moral one, an ethical form of resistance.

At one end of the world, the Jewish Conference carries the moral burden of confronting the genocide of the past; at the other, the suffering of the Armenian people still echoes within a deep silence. The Palestinian people face the same injustice before our eyes each day, while the Kurdish people continue to wrestle with the denial of their own history. In the same weeks, one said “never again,” while the other declared “we are still here.” This is not merely a historical contradiction, it is a profound silence carved into the memory of humanity. And yes, for some, believing that “each stirring leaf heralds spring” may seem like weakness. Yet this reflex is the most profound form of existence a people can forge against annihilation. To search for hope in every word, every statement, every rumor is the most human expression of faith in life by a people who have come to know death so closely. This state of generating hope should not be underestimated, for it is the final heartbeat of a heart that has not yet surrendered.

Colonialism often operates through invisible architectures

Today, anyone in Turkey who wishes to speak of peace, or of a peace process must first confront this reality: Imrali is not merely a place of captivity; it is a system of governance and control.

As Zeki Akıl emphasized in his column for Yeni Özgür Politika: “As long as Imrali remains a place of captivity, there will be no peace.” These words reveal the essence of the issue. Peace cannot be established while the leadership, ideas, and political will of a people are kept under constant control. This system is not the result of a strategic approach to the Kurdish question but of a colonial mindset: control, isolate, and then speak of “dialogue.”

Likewise, in his extensive interview with ANF, Duran Kalkan describes this truth even more explicitly: “There has been no change in the Imrali isolation system… They created a mechanism where everything is banned, banned, banned and then, six years later, when a single lawyer’s visit takes place, everyone is expected to rejoice.”

This is not merely a form of isolation; it is a mechanism that constantly measures and restricts the political existence of an entire people. Colonialism today often functions not through tanks, but through such invisible administrative architectures. Under these circumstances, the very survival of the Peoples’ Equality and Democracy Party (DEM Party) constitutes an act of resistance in itself. With its former co-chairs, thousands of members, hundreds of municipal co-mayors, parliamentarians, and administrators imprisoned, the fact that the political will is reorganized after every election and rises again after every repression is not only the resilience of a party but the resistance of a people’s collective memory and dignity. The colonial order is losing precisely because it cannot extinguish this memory; the Kurdish people are resisting not merely to live, but to keep truth itself alive.’’

The Era of Proof Must End Now

Kalkan added: ‘‘Kurdish politics has long carried the burden of proving itself. In every dialogue, in every process, at every conference it has been obliged first to “demonstrate its intentions.” That proof has long ceased to be a test of resistance and has become a test of a people’s dignity. The era of proof must end. Forcing  people to keep proving their existence, their suffering and their resistance is the subtlest form of colonialism. The truth is already plain; the task now is not to argue one’s righteousness but to build the life that such righteousness demands. Revolutionary freedom begins precisely here, by abandoning the need to prove oneself and beginning to live as one is. The region’s geopolitics only compounds this reality.

Turkey’s playing at “peacemaking” in Gaza while simultaneously conducting a war diplomacy in Rojava is now a naked contradiction. Duran Kalkan’s repeated warning, “That’s where the real showdown will happen, in Cyprus!” is not a metaphore but a political observation grounded in the movement’s internal assessments, pointing to Eastern Mediterranean energy lines and the equation of reintegration with the West.

The bottleneck on the Cyprus (Eastern Mediterranean) axis is directly linked to the Kurds’ struggle for peace. Deepening crises are possible along the line that runs from Syria to Cyprus and from Iran to the Eastern Mediterranean. Processes carried out in the name of “peace” risk imposing a balance that will leave the Kurds exposed in future storms.’’

The Kurds have the legitimate right to engage with all powers

Kalkan also said, ‘‘Meanwhile, it is evident that hegemonic powers are trying to absorb the Kurds’ sincere and rightful hopes into their own regional strategies. Every meeting conducted under the banners of “friendship,” “alliance,” or “conference” can be distorted by the media language that fuels racism within. Even the Kurds’ most legitimate political pursuits are portrayed as crimes. The right of the Kurds and the Kurdistan Freedom Movement to hold talks and to form tactical or strategic partnerships with any forces they believe will support their cause is legitimate. The criticism should not be directed at this right itself, but at the hostile manipulation of such initiatives by hegemonic powers. Therefore, strategic awareness must not be abandoned; hope must be preserved, but its instrumentalization must never be allowed. In light of this reality and the mission she carries, Gültan Kışanak reminds the people and especially Kurdish youth of their founding responsibility: “Let us open the way for the youth and entrust them with responsibility. The youth of a movement that began with the claim ‘we started young’ must now assume responsibility for this struggle. Young people, confront us with our shortcomings, and build what is new.”

Peace is possible not through minimal concessions but through equality

This call is not a criticism, but a reminder of a legacy and an invitation to carry it forward. Still, it is worth recalling one truth: at what stage of the Kurdistan national liberation struggle, whenever and wherever needed, has Kurdish youth ever stood back? For a century, the youth of this people have shouldered this struggle not only in the streets but in every sphere of life, paying the heaviest price, never shirking their responsibilities, and continuing to bear the greatest sacrifices. What is needed today is not for the youth to adapt themselves to the old, but for those in leadership to understand the language, pace, platforms, and spirit of the youth and to build the new together with them. Today, the issue is no longer mere survival; it is the rejection of the life imposed by colonialism. Peace is possible not through the smallest concessions offered, but through equality. And revolutionary freedom will be rebuilt not in the language of fear, but in the language of courage, because freedom lies not at the edge of the abyss, but in the courage to leap beyond it.