The wave of attacks that began in Rojava (northern Syria) on January 6 was not merely a military process, and nearly everyone has already said what they had to say about it. What unfolded in Rojava was, for the Kurds, yet another stark warning of how fragile the threshold of existence remains. The siege stretching from Sheikh Maqsoud to Ashrafiyah, the subsequent implementation of an attack concept, the targeting of civilians, the suppression of the social sphere, and the fact that the possibility of genocide began to be openly discussed all reactivated not only the balance on the ground but also the collective memory of Kurdish society.
Following this process in Rojava, the war that began with Iran and gradually expanded in recent weeks shows that a new threshold of rupture has now effectively opened on a regional scale. Despite such a war atmosphere, the rapid circulation of a language of normalization internally clearly demonstrates that this process is advancing not only on a military level but also on a political and psychological ground.
The dignified resistance in Sheikh Maqsoud and Ashrafiyah became one of the main factors triggering mobilization across all four parts of Kurdistan and in the diaspora during this critical period. This picture showed that Kurds still possess a strong collective will capable of generating reflexes and of quickly converging on a supra-political common ground when their very existence is at stake.
Indeed, the process that developed after the agreement signed on January 29 between the Syrian transitional government and the Syrian Democratic Forces (SDF) revealed that the main factor enabling Kurds to return to the table as actors was precisely this field of mobilization created by the Kurdish people and their allies.
However, what is striking is that immediately after this heavy atmosphere of attacks and siege, a different language was rapidly put into circulation both in Turkey and in Syria; as if nothing had happened, as if no risk of elimination had emerged on a regional scale, as if the existential threshold of the Kurds had not once again been tested.
It is precisely at this point that the main issue to be discussed emerges: the “normalization” atmosphere established after the war in Rojava. This atmosphere cannot be read solely as a search for peace; it also represents the construction of a political and psychological ground.
In recent days, this approach has begun to be expressed more openly in the language of state mind itself. The comprehensive assessment of Devlet Bahçeli, Chairman of the Nationalist Movement Party, consisting of approximately ten pages and reflected in the public sphere, is one of the clearest examples of this framework.
The emphases made in the very first sections of the text—such as a “radical rupture threshold,” “geopolitical fault line,” and the “fortification of the internal front”—are not merely descriptions of a situation. This language also shows that the boundaries of the political response to be given to this situation have already been drawn in advance.
As in a classic method, the threat is magnified while the parameters of the solution are narrowed.
The language of normalization being established today is not merely a search for peace; it is the preparation of a social ground for the security-centered reconstruction of state mind.
The processes being carried out in Syria and Turkey today are, of course, not entirely worthless or developments to be rejected outright. Every step toward placing the Kurdish question on a political and legal ground is, in principle, significant. Addressing the issue through non-conflict methods, expanding the space of democratic politics, and creating an atmosphere in which society can breathe are all valuable. However, the issue is not the existence of the process, but under what conditions and at what threshold it advances.
Because every development in the Kurdish question has a transitive nature that affects not only its immediate sphere but all parts. The simultaneous emergence of military and political pressure in Rojava and a negotiation language in Turkey shows that this process cannot be read in a single dimension.
For this reason, what is needed today is to maintain composure and strategic reasoning, preserving a sense of measure. The struggle of the past fifty years has given Kurdish society not only political experience but also an awareness of thresholds. This threshold is a historical measure that determines how gains, losses, and retreats are to be interpreted.
When this measure weakens, what is a right can be presented as a favor; necessary developments can be portrayed as new gains. Most importantly, the level of societal expectations can be lowered without being noticed.
The atmosphere being constructed today is based not only on political but also on psychological ground. When the language of the process is examined, it becomes clear that what has happened is not directly denied, but its meaning is continuously reframed. The name of war is changed to security, the name of rights to reform, and what is essential to opportunity. In this way, reality is not eliminated, but its perception is transformed.
In psychology, this is called “gaslighting”: the devaluation of a person’s or a society’s lived experience, the blurring of its memory, and gradually making it doubt what it has seen.
While a very recent war and siege have taken place in Rojava, the simultaneous construction of a strong language of normalization internally; the presentation of what is a right as if it were a new gain; and the rapid removal of past heavy costs from the agenda all demonstrate how this psychological ground is being operated.
This method does not directly deny; rather, it presents remembering as insignificant, caution as excessive, and criticism as unnecessary. In this way, the threshold of society is lowered without being noticed.
For this very reason, what is being constructed here is not only a political framework but also a reorganization of memory. While explaining itself, state reasoning is simultaneously rewriting its own history; it attempts to absolve itself by transforming the meaning of what has occurred in that geography over a century within the language of today. In this respect, Devlet Bahçeli’s comprehensive text should be read not only as an example of what is said, but also of what is left out and not said.
Yet memory is not merely an emotion belonging to the past; memory is the political compass of a people. A society that does not remember which promises were not kept, which processes were left unfinished, and which costs were paid cannot maintain the bar of peace.
The century-long practice of the state mind of the Republic of Turkey has been shaped not only by security policies but also by strategies of eroding memory and devaluing experience. For the current process to progress in a healthy way, this historical continuity must not be forgotten.
This reminder expresses that a genuine peace can only rise on a strong social memory and will.
Kurdish society, its political will, and its cadres have, over the past half-century, not only waged a struggle but also built a political and moral accumulation that rejects submission. This accumulation, formed in prisons, mountains, exile, and the diaspora, represents a legacy far beyond narrow political bargaining or short-term expectations.
The fundamental characteristic of this legacy is clear: Kurds can live under difficult conditions, resist oppression, and even experience retreats; but they do not permanently accept a framework in which their political existence is denied or the threshold of equality is lowered. The historical formation of the past century is full of moments that prove this.
For this reason, the value of the current process should be measured not by the expectations it creates, but by the extent to which it expands the political space of the Kurds.
The feeling of having no alternatives is the most dangerous psychological threshold that narrows political space. Yet the social mobilization that has emerged in recent months clearly shows that Kurds can still produce a political balance based on their own strength.
This reality must not be forgotten. Kurds have never been without alternatives.
Therefore, the fundamental question to be asked is this: Do the processes being carried out create a ground that expands the political space of the Kurds, or do they produce a normalization in which the threshold of existence is gradually lowered?
Because freedom and equality can only rise on a strong social memory and will.
The following quote, attributed to André Malraux, French thinker and one of the leading figures of the French Resistance during World War II, expresses this truth in a simple way: “The hands of freedom are not always clean. But no matter what, in all circumstances, one must choose freedom.”
The fifty-year journey of the Kurdish people and their political leadership is precisely the history of this choice.
The meaning of the process unfolding today will only become clear to the extent that this reality is acknowledged.
Another point that should not be overlooked here is this: the emphasis on “unity” and “common ground” articulated today in the name of state mind does not appear to have emerged as a result of an internal transformation or a historical reckoning. Rather, it points to an orientation shaped and compelled by the new conditions created by regional and international developments.
This does not completely invalidate the value of the language used. However, it makes it necessary to correctly read its limits and intentions, because openings that arise out of necessity do not have the capacity to produce a lasting solution unless they are institutionalized on the basis of equality.
For this reason, the value of the normalization being constructed today should be measured not by the hopes it creates, but by the threshold at which it defines the political existence of the Kurds. Because when the threshold falls, equality gives way to consent and concession.
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