The Kurds and the tyranny of geography

For a people without a country, the dream of statehood is not merely political—it is existential. The Kurds, a mountainous people of shepherds and warriors, are the largest ethnic group in the world without a state. Numbering between 40 and 45 million, they are scattered across Turkey, Iran, Iraq, and Syria. This dispersion has been their curse. The tyranny of geography explains why their history is a cycle of broken promises, strategic betrayals, and an unfulfilled dream.

The first betrayal

The modern Kurdish tragedy began after World War I, when the victors carved the Ottoman Empire into new states. The 1920 Treaty of Sèvres dangled the possibility of Kurdish independence, but it was abandoned in the Treaty of Lausanne three years later. The Arabs gained Syria, Lebanon, Jordan, and Iraq; the Armenians were promised a state, yet the Kurds were left stateless on their ancestral lands. That initial betrayal shaped everything that followed: the Kurds became too numerous to be ignored, too divided to unify, and too inconvenient for great powers to support.

Pawns on the chessboard

Kurdish history is littered with instances of being used and discarded. The short-lived Mahabad Republic in northwestern Iran, founded in 1946 with Soviet backing, collapsed within a year when Stalin withdrew his support. In Iraq, Mullah Mustafa Barzani launched a potent insurgency in the 1960s.

Israel, following David Ben-Gurion’s “Periphery Doctrine,” provided arms and training to weaken Baghdad. But in 1975, when the Shah of Iran reached a deal with Saddam Hussein in Algiers, Kurdish support evaporated overnight. The rebellion collapsed, and tens of thousands of Kurds paid the price. Barzani’s lament captured the bitterness: “We do not want war, but we are forced into it. Our people have no choice but to resist.” That cycle—backed in war, abandoned in peace—became the Kurdish experience. Jalal Talabani, who later became Iraq’s president, summed it up: “The Kurds have no friends but the mountains.”

Autonomy, division, and corruption

The 1991 Gulf War created a brief window of opportunity. Protected by a Western-imposed no-fly zone, Iraqi Kurds established an autonomous region. They formed their own parliament, institutions, and eventually developed an oil economy. For the first time in modern history, Kurds tasted self-rule.

Yet the period also revealed deep fissures. Power was split between the Barzani family in Erbil and Talabani’s faction in Sulaymaniyah, sparking a civil war in the 1990s. Corruption soon followed. The Kurds were betrayed, this time by their own corrupt leaders. A small elite enriched itself through oil revenues and smuggling networks, while many Kurds remained in abject poverty. Instead of strengthening their claim to statehood, divisions and graft undermined it. This time, they have only themselves to blame.

The wider struggle

In Turkey, the Kurdistan Workers’ Party (PKK), led by Abdullah Öcalan, waged an armed struggle for independence beginning in 1984. The conflict has claimed more than 40,000 lives. Successive governments in Ankara refused to recognise Kurdish cultural and political rights, fearing that even limited autonomy would fuel separatism.

In Syria, the civil war gave Kurds another chance. The Syrian Democratic Forces (SDF), known locally as Qasad, emerged as Washington’s most reliable ally against ISIS. They paid dearly in that fight, losing thousands of fighters. Yet when Turkey demanded that US forces withdraw, the Kurds were abruptly abandoned, left exposed to Turkish offensives in 2019. It was another reminder of their role as indispensable allies in conflict and disposable burdens in peace.

Geography as destiny

What unites these stories is geography. The Kurds are not concentrated in one territory but are divided among four sovereign states, each viewing Kurdish independence as an existential threat. Were Iraqi Kurds to declare independence tomorrow, Turkey, Iran, and Syria would quickly align to strangle the new state economically and militarily.

Empty promises

When they were barefoot shepherds dodging airstrikes in the mountains, Kurdish leaders vowed to build a republic of virtue—no corruption, no nepotism, only justice for the martyrs who died chasing the mirage of statehood. But power, as always, proved more seductive than principle. Today, allegations abound: oil smuggling to Iran and Turkey that generates some US$200 million monthly not appearing in KRG accounts, with officials in both ruling families—Barzani’s KDP and Talabani’s PUK—named among the beneficiaries. Reports from the Kurdish Parliament and watchdogs claim that billions of dollars of oil revenue are simply lost in opaque contracts and remain unaccounted for. Meanwhile, public servants are left unpaid despite the government’s claim of “oil income.” The revolution was not betrayed—it was sold, barrel by barrel. The highest offices in Erbil and Sulaymaniyah may still promise virtue, but the ledger tells a different story.

The dream that persists

The Kurds’ tragedy is that they are both indispensable and disposable—courted in war, abandoned in peace. For now, an independent Kurdish state is unlikely. Geography, once again, is merciless. But history teaches that maps are never final. Empires collapse, borders shift, and suppressed identities eventually find expression.

Whether that moment for the Kurds comes in ten years or two hundred, their dream of statehood remains central to their identity—and no betrayal has extinguished it yet.

The views expressed in this article belong to the author and do not necessarily reflect the editorial policy of Middle East Monitor.