Communes and the Kurds

Abdullah Öcalan, in his Manifesto for Peace and Democratic Society, urges a precise reading of history. Contrary to Marx’s claim that history is defined by class conflict, he argues that its driving force is the struggle between the commune and the state. The earliest traces of this conflict appear across Mesopotamia and the mountain chains of the Zagros and the Taurus.

State-centered civilization, Öcalan notes, has survived by endlessly rewriting history, a distortion that allows it to feed off society like a parasite and reproduce itself across generations. The state is, by design, an institution that imposes its power structure on society and attempts to eliminate the commune so that those who hold power may remain in control.

When we look at the Proto-Kurds, we see a life lived as an integrated whole, a world saturated with meaning and wonder. Society was organised in clans around the woman-mother figure. There were no chains to bind people, no concept of private property, no personal possessions. Life was movement and constant becoming, unfolding freely and autonomously.

The unity of the clan rested on the labour, sensitivity and intellectual creativity of women. This is why so many traditions today still bear the unmistakable imprint of women’s leadership. The structures women developed to protect themselves from violence became forms of remarkable resistance. The traces of this resistance are reflected even in the ancient narratives of Enki and Inanna.

The “caste-like killer,” as Öcalan describes it, adopted the system as its purpose and worked to sever society from its communal foundations. But how did such a structure take root as a cultural force within society? It began with the imprisonment of women inside the home. Once women were pushed out of their communal roles, a regime of ownership emerged that placed the entire community under pressure. Male-dominated power and the enslavement of women gradually eroded the communal essence of social life.

This is why Abdullah Öcalan places such importance on reshaping relationships between women and men around truth, equality and shared existence.

Today in Rojava, a new form of life is taking shape under the leadership of women. Öcalan highlights the JINWAR experience in particular, a community built by and for women as a living alternative to the destructive patterns created by patriarchal domination. Faced with the harms the “caste killer” system inflicts on women, children and society at large, Öcalan sees the commune as the foundation of a new kind of family.

Across the Zagros and Taurus mountain ranges, tribal organisation has long embodied mobility and dynamism in resisting state-centered civilization. A tribe is not defined merely by blood ties or traditional service relationships; it is a community that defends itself, grows and produces in opposition to statist structures. For this reason, the tribe has preserved some of the most vital qualities of social life. Despite the relentless assaults of state-centered civilization, tribal communities have maintained and nurtured their communal memory. The echoes of ancient communal life continue to resonate within these structures, carrying forward a heritage of resistance and collective existence.

The communal system remains strong in Kurdistan today

In tribal organisation, the Mazda faith plays a defining role. Rooted in the duality of darkness and light, it rests on a universal dialectic. The Zoroastrian tradition emerges as a continuation of the Mazda belief, offering a moral rebellion against the gods of state-centered civilization. The Median Confederation built a communal way of life grounded in this belief system. Their structure of tribal confederations was, in essence, a network of communes: twenty-four federations united to form a single confederation.

For three centuries, the Medes fought and ultimately defeated both the “caste-like killer” system and the Assyrian Empire, one of the most brutal imperial powers of its time. Their victory was rooted in their insistence on preserving a communal social order, a legacy that helps explain why the communal system remains strong in Kurdistan today.

However, when power shifted from the Medes to the Persians, the “caste killer” system reasserted itself. Persian kings declared themselves divine and enforced a harsh order in which no one could challenge their authority. Zoroastrianism, although originating among the Kurds, had by then spread far beyond; it strongly influenced Persians, Pakistanis, Afghans, Indians and even large parts of China. Many aspects of Buddhism and Confucianism can be seen as extensions of Zoroastrian thought. Though Zoroaster was Kurdish by origin, he universalised his belief system.

In its earliest form, Zoroastrianism rested on communal principles. Yet as the Persians shifted toward state formation, the faith gradually hardened into dogma and became instrumentalised by the state.

So, what is a commune? At its core, it is the organised power of society, the most direct expression of collective life. To understand it clearly, one must return to its simplest form: the commune is a way of living together. Villages provide the clearest example. In such settings, the practical needs of life are organised collectively. Politics, self-governance and self-defence exist alongside agriculture, herding and construction, all shared equally and carried out through collective responsibility.

For Kurdish society, there is little need to excessively theorise the commune. The Kurdish word kom already reveals its meaning, deriving from kombûn, “coming together.” Communal life originated on the soil of Mesopotamia. Over the centuries, however, capitalist systems and occupying states have worked tirelessly to separate Kurdish society from this communal spirit. The destruction and burning of Kurdish villages is one of the starkest expressions of these efforts.

It is not accurate to interpret wars solely through class analysis

Why were the villages in Northern Kurdistan (Bakur) burned? Because society governed itself, organised itself, produced for itself and defended itself. A community that manages its own affairs does not need the state and more importantly, does not submit to it. To make society dependent, the state had to destroy the villages. Some people were forced into displacement and turned into refugees; others were pushed into metropolitan centres where state control was stronger. The state sought to impose its own model of life on society.

A similar policy was carried out in Southern Kurdistan (Başur) under Saddam Hussein. To prevent society from organising, producing or defending itself, entire villages were subjected to massacres. The aim was clear: push people towards the cities and weaken the communal fabric.

The capitalist system, by its nature, promotes individualism and fragmentation. People retreat into their homes; with the rise of technology and the internet, no one feels the need for anyone else. Yet, in the past, villages had their own assemblies and social structures. People lived together, organised together and shared everything. Life was just and egalitarian, no one ruled over anyone else.

This is why Marx’s definition of class war, while not entirely wrong, is insufficient. In the reality of Kurdistan, the state targeted everyone. Thus, conflicts cannot be understood solely through a class-based framework. Occupying states have tried to dismantle social culture and tribal organisation in Kurdistan because the tribe, at its core, is a communal structure. Tribes still exist today, but many have lost much of their communal character.

Traditionally, tribal life was built on solidarity: everyone protected one another, work was shared and life was collectively organised. The state fractured this organisation, isolating individuals and making each person more dependent on state power. Some tribes in the Botan region still maintain their communal qualities.

In tribal culture, there is no class hierarchy. A tribal leader is not wealthy; whatever is produced is shared equally among all members. Historical accounts consistently show that tribal leaders did not possess private property and were not considered rich. If a leader failed to fulfil his responsibilities, the respected figures of the tribe would convene, select a suitable person and assign the role accordingly.

Capitalism recognises no society, only the individual

In a commune, equality, shared labour, natural authority and social democracy shape everyday life. As continuations of ancient clans, tribal structures still exist today, and communities continue to protect themselves through these clan- and tribe-based forms of organisation. Throughout history, society retreated into the mountains to defend itself against the assaults of the “caste-like killer” system. It is no coincidence that the centre of tribal resistance has long been Kurdistan, where many values of tribal culture have survived.

Communal thought is rooted in matriarchal culture. It appears in the Zoroastrian tradition of Mesopotamia, in Lao Tze’s teachings in China, in Buddhism in India, in the prophetic traditions of the Middle East and in the philosophy of Socrates in Greece. As Abdullah Öcalan notes in his reinterpretations, the foundation of social history is the commune. Society endured and protected itself, through communal structures. The system that stands opposed to this he calls the “caste killer.”

The model of a democratic nation is built on the formation of communes. Against capitalist modernity and statist socialism, the democratic-communal way of life becomes essential. Capitalist modernity, through liberal ideology, strips democracy of its substance, leaving behind an empty shell. This is why building democratic and communal systems is necessary.

Abdullah Öcalan frames modernity as a structure carried by “three horsemen of the apocalypse”: The democratic nation as the alternative to the nation-state; Eco-industry as the alternative to industrialism; The democratic-communal society as the alternative to capitalism. He emphasises that society has always been shaped through the commune.

Capitalism, by its nature, fragments society. For capitalism, there is no society, only the individual. Its underlying philosophy rests on the denial of society itself. The commune, by contrast, is society’s original and defining form.

In Öcalan’s paradigm of democratic modernity, communes occupy a central place because they are the roots of society. Democracy is a foundational principle of communal life. In essence, the democratic commune is democratic socialism itself, there is no socialism without communes. A communalist system provides one of the most effective avenues for addressing social problems. Freedom and democracy form the basis of democratic communes, and they stand as the alternative to the destructive force Öcalan calls the “three horsemen” of capitalist modernity.