What does Öcalan's perspective mean to whom?

Since the autumn of 2024, developments in Turkey have brought about an unusual process—both for political actors and for the bearers of collective memory. Abdullah Öcalan’s Perspective Letter dated Feb 27, 2025, has become a document that sheds light not only on the institutional future of the PKK but also on the structural transformation process of the Republic of Turkey.

With the PKK’s self-dissolution at its 12th Congress held between May 5–7, the debates surrounding this text have deepened. In this interview, we spoke with Dr. Sayid Darati about the multiple layers of a political moment caught between historical continuity and contemporary transformation.

Bahçeli’s statement and the architecture of state mentality

Dr. Sayid Darati, we know you for your work on Kurdish history, especially in the areas of oral history, collective memory, and the late Ottoman–early Republican period. Today, however, we would like to hear your views on a topic that is both extremely current and historically significant. First of all, we are living through a process that is, in every sense of the word, unique. When Bahçeli said in his Oct 22 parliamentary group speech, “Let Öcalan come to parliament, let him say he dissolved his party,” people turned to those next to them and asked, “Did I hear that right?” What happened? How did this begin—and why did it begin—this process that people go to such lengths not to even name?

What we are witnessing is, on the one hand, unique, but on the other hand, bears great similarities to the periods of 1918–1923 and 1975–1976.

To begin with, it is inconceivable that Devlet Bahçeli’s call is entirely independent of the Turkish state apparatus. If you recall the role Bahçeli has played over the last 30 years in designing “state and government,” my point becomes clearer. Bahçeli is neither Erdoğan nor Özgür Özel. And to be clear, they are not outside of this process either. Because this concerns the “survival of the state,” everyone relevant has, in one way or another, been drawn into it.

So, what are the current developments regarding the survival of the state?

There are two important developments: one internal, the other external. Starting with the external: the Middle Eastern order, whose borders were drawn by the Sykes-Picot Agreement, has collapsed, and the region is being redesigned. Much has already been written about this, so I’ll be brief. Let me just give one example to illustrate the extent of this upheaval: what would have been dismissed as nonsense in the past is now treated as “normal”. Trump is casually drawing up plans for Gaza as if it were an empty lot, making public announcements and negotiating deals—and no one dares say, “This can never happen!” That one example alone is enough to grasp how overturned the Middle East has become. The only thing it's not doing is unfolding at apocalyptic “speed.”

The internal development, on the other hand, is the nearing collapse of the path initiated under Erdoğan and Bahçeli after they overturned the "peace table" in 2014—a path aimed at destroying the Kurdish movement through a strategy known as the “annihilation plan.” This plan, previously designed by Gülenist cadres as the “Sri Lanka Model,” has reached its end.

If you recall, in the aftermath of the 2016 “coup model”, all relevant actors were brought into alignment under the pretext of “state survival,” and even the constitution and all written laws of the state were suspended. From 2016 to 2023, a completely lawless model of governance was implemented in military, political, economic, and other key areas. All institutions and rules that make a state a state were trampled upon. The negative consequences of this were supposed to be consolidated through what was hoped to be a successful “annihilation plan.”

In short, the plan dictated that the state would not act like a state but like a mafia outfit—recognizing no laws or rules. In the end, the PKK would be eliminated, and society would be appeased by this “victory.” In that sense, the plan resembled the “total war” concept declared by General Chief of Staff Doğan Güreş back in 1993.

But things didn’t go as planned. By 2023, not only had the PKK not been eliminated, it also became clear that continuing under this system would leave nothing of the state itself. As a result, we started to see certain steps back: Süleyman Soylu’s removal from the Ministry of Interior, Mehmet Şimşek’s reappointment, and even Berat Albayrak—the son-in-law who emptied the treasury with his erratic economic policies (with Erdoğan’s full knowledge)—being distanced from both his post and the palace. These were all such steps.

Yet even those were not enough. The intensifying turmoil in the Middle East coinciding with a deepening economic crisis in Turkey triggered alarm bells in certain segments of the state apparatus. These are the trigger conditions that gave rise to the process initiated by Bahçeli.

This process strongly resembles the period between 1918 and 1923, when the Ottoman state collapsed under the war policies of the Committee of Union and Progress (İttihat ve Terakki Komitesi), and nothing had yet replaced it. During that time, the Turkish state mentality turned to the Kurds for support through Mustafa Kemal, which ultimately led to the founding of a new state.

Let’s be clear: back then, the state — through figures like Mustafa Kemal and Kazım Karabekir — did not turn to the Kurds becuse they were “in love” with Kurds. But with the Middle East in flames and Anatolia in chaos, there was no other way to save the state. Socially and militarily, the Kurds were in a relatively stronger position. In fact, the only region where the Ottoman army remained standing and organized was in Kurdistan. Therefore, seeking Kurdish support was the only realistic option for “state survival.”

From 1918 to 2025: Historical repetition or strategic renewal?

Nowadays we are experiencing something very similar to the year 1918. The Middle East is once again ablaze. Turkey is going through a profound economic and social crisis. To borrow Demirel’s phrase, the state is in “ruins.” The only path forward is a reconciliation with the Kurds. And so, the "state mind" is working toward this. But the situation is not as simple as it appears.

Because since 2016, there is no “Turkish State” in the traditional sense. What we have instead are “mini-states”—entities that grew and thrived under the decaying shell of the state, each operating according to its own agenda. Yes, through the lawless war and politics of the 2016–2023 period, the state managed to push back the PKK militarily. But in doing so, it lost its own statehood and turned into a coalition of mafia-like “statelets.”

In other words, what has brought the Republic of Turkey back to the negotiation table is not that the PKK has become stronger, but rather that the state has become weaker—so weak, in fact, that it has lost the very qualities that define a state.

Currently, the only thing holding these “mini-states” together is the Erdoğan figure. But it’s clear that for natural or political reasons, Erdoğan cannot remain in power for much longer. Once he’s gone, these “mini-states” won’t be able to stick together. Bahçeli’s intervention “on behalf of the state” is essentially an attempt to restore order and dismantle these factions before they become fully autonomous.

I compare this situation to the collapse of the Great Seljuk Empire. In the 11th century, the only figure who held together the institutions of the Seljuk state was Nizam al-Mulk. When Nizam al-Mulk was assassinated in 1092, Sultan Malik-Shah only survived another month. Soon after, the state not only split into three parts, but it became clear that the “Atabegs”—the military governors of the provinces who had ostensibly been serving the state—had, in fact, long been working for their own ends. As soon as Nizam was gone, instead of preserving the unity of the state, each declared their own principalities (e.g., the Artuqids, the Zengids, etc.).

In today’s context, Erdoğan is the equivalent of Nizam al-Mulk—he is the figure holding the different branches of the Turkish state, these “statelets,” together. Erdoğan appears to control everything, yet everything is slipping through his fingers. Just like Nizam al-Mulk, who seemed like the most powerful man in the Middle East while alive, but after his death, only fractured remnants remained.

From this perspective, one can argue that the Turkish state as we knew it—i.e., the Republic of Turkey formally declared in 1923—effectively ended in 2016. Between 2016 and 2023, the state apparatus was run lawlessly by a neo-Ittihadi (İttihatçı) structure. By 2023, that regime had also collapsed.

This also echoes the period of the Ottoman collapse and the founding of the Republic. Historically speaking, if states don’t collapse through war or revolution, they fall apart like this—gradually, while maintaining the outward appearance of stability. They continue to carry the shell of the old order until the end. But once that shell crumbles, it becomes much easier to trace how and when the state weakened and fell.

Seeking peace amid state fractures

And what about the Kurdish side? How is the current situation different from the past?

There’s a big difference. Back then, although the Kurds had armed forces, these were tribal militias—and nearly every tribe was in conflict with the others. So there was no organized “Kurdish politics” standing before the Kemalists. In fact, those Kurds gave the Kemalists an almost blank check and didn’t secure any guarantees for themselves.

Today, however, the Kurds are more organized as a people, and they are no longer naive enough to fall for the Turkish state's “promises.” Moreover, it has been explicitly declared that the PKK’s decision to disband and lay down arms is conditional on legal and political guarantees from the Turkish side.

Another point I want to emphasize is that for both Öcalan and Bahçeli—albeit for very different reasons—the current İmralı Process is a “post-Erdoğan” plan. Erdoğan has been included in this plan, but I don’t think he fully consents to it. He still has the capacity to sabotage it, but he seems to lack the power to resist it.

One of the key turning points in this period—where the “impossible” has become possible—was the PKK’s declaration of its self-dissolution during its 12th Congress held on May 5–7. Why now?

What stood out most to me in the Perspective text was that, among all the headings, the section on “dissolution” was almost the shortest. Öcalan seems very confident about what he’s doing in this regard. And the PKK appears to be in full alignment with him. He also stresses that there is no rush to create something new in place of the PKK.

My personal answer to the question of “why now” is this: actually, this is not about now. For at least 10–15 years, I’ve thought that if Öcalan was free, the first thing he would do would be to dissolve the PKK and form a new party or movement in its place.

This is not just about whether the PKK is “sufficient” or not—it’s about Öcalan’s style. He’s a leader who often acts contrary to general expectations, and that’s also why he’s usually been successful.

The Perspective text Öcalan submitted to the PKK’s 12th Congress has sparked massive debate. While discussion continues intensely among Kurds, some have gone so far as to accuse Öcalan of “betraying the Kurdish cause” after the PKK’s self-dissolution. What are your thoughts on this anger?

The debate you mention is taking place mostly on social media. And I’m one of those who believe that social media should not be taken too seriously. At most, social media reflects 10% of society, and is completely out of touch with the other 90%. That 10% believes the world consists solely of itself and social media, so it stirs up chaos online, then believes that chaos is real, and creates even more chaos.

Let me give an example. On the day Bahçeli said, “Let Öcalan come to parliament and speak,” social media erupted. Almost everyone dropped everything and engaged in heated debate, either supporting or opposing the idea.

The next day, I checked Google Turkey’s trending topics. Bahçeli’s statement was ranked around 13th or 14th. Before it were retirement pensions, TV shows, football scores—even celebrity gossip. Imagine, a speech that caused a digital firestorm was discussed less than 12–13 other topics, including tabloid news, by the broader public.

So I really don’t think we should take social media too seriously—especially when it comes to accusations against Öcalan and the PKK. The overwhelming majority of society stands in a very different place from where social media positions itself.

Urban decay in Kurdish cities and new forms of resistance

From this perspective, I think Öcalan—who has lived in isolation on an island for 25 years—reads the pulse of society better than those who have access to all kinds of information. Those who accuse Öcalan today seem unaware of the conditions Kurds are living under.

Look at what has happened in Diyarbakır over the past 10 years since the PKK’s military presence ended: the city is now full of wannabe mafia youth. There’s been an incredible influx of black money through gambling, drugs, betting, and rigged public tenders.

Consider this: in a city where half the population is unemployed and the other half mostly works for minimum wage, rents start at 15–20,000 TL! A basic villa built in the middle of the steppe, 10 km from the city, is being sold for 1.5 to 2 million dollars—with that money, you could buy a detached home in Queens, New York!

So while the majority of the population grows increasingly poor and approaches the hunger line, a certain class can’t even find enough places to stash their money. Some impoverished youth, aspiring to this flashy lifestyle, easily slide into all sorts of illicit activities with dreams of “getting rich quick.” In this way, the social decay that has taken deep root in Turkish society is now also spreading among the Kurds.

Identities and colonial traps

In short, there is no such thing as a “heroic Turkish nation” or “valiant Kurdish nation” as imagined by Turkish or Kurdish nationalists. We are facing a society caught between the high cost of resistance and the benefits of collaboration with the government, and in this back-and-forth inclination, it is rotting. If Öcalan’s widely criticized “trash heap” metaphor doesn’t describe this, then what does?

Some people are busy glamorizing Amed (Diyarbakir) from afar, but unfortunately, this is the reality of the city in recent years. And I’m not even talking about Hewlêr (Erbil), etc.—anyone can go see the mess there for themselves.

Now, what do those who accuse Öcalan and the PKK offer as an alternative to their struggle? In Öcalan’s terminology, what they offer is “political begging.” Cozying up to Israel, flattering the U.S. and Europe, etc.

But where in history has a state ever been founded by begging? Which country would abandon decades of cooperation with Turkey—a massive market—and just hand you a state because you pleaded for it? Founding a state isn’t like setting up a game of cards in a café! These are absurd ideas.

Actually, Öcalan’s “trash heap” metaphor should be read as a reflection of the multi-layered colonial system imposed on the Kurds—and how Kurds have been shaped by it. This observation can be better understood through Frantz Fanon’s Black Skin, White Masks and Albert Memmi’s The Colonizer and the Colonized.

Democratic confederalism and the question of utopia

Öcalan’s text proposes a political solution aimed at overcoming ethnic and faith-based conflict and authoritarian regimes in the Middle East. This solution centers on democratic confederalism. What would you say to those who see this proposal as disconnected from reality—utopian?

Öcalan is someone who has come out of 50 years of political practice, and who has led a popular movement militarily, politically, and ideologically for 50 years. He is proposing a solution to a chronic Middle Eastern problem, and the movement he leads—with all its accumulated experience—is endorsing this proposal.

Those who see Öcalan’s model as utopian, if they are serious, need to present a better alternative, convince the public of it, and then fulfill the practical requirements of their own model. Otherwise, if their sole position is simply opposition to Öcalan and the PKK, they won’t be taken seriously. And frankly, they don’t exist outside social media anyway. And, as I’ve already said, social media is not a credible platform.

In the Perspective text, Öcalan states:

“Regional confederalism emerges as an absolute necessity. The Israeli-Palestinian conflict, sectarian clashes, and the contradictions of nation-states all call for democratic confederalism. This solution also necessitates a new internationalism. It would be right and historic to launch an internationalist initiative with our comrades without delay.”

Öcalan seems to call for a new internationalism alongside his regional solution. What do you make of that? Is the time ripe for a new international?

For Öcalan, the idea of a Confederation of the Middle East is not new. He has expressed this idea in various writings and speeches for nearly 20 years. What’s new in this text is the call for a “new International.” Of course, starting to build such an initiative is one thing; bringing it to life is another. Gathering a real International is no easy task.

So, I can’t say whether the time has come or not—that’s beyond me. But I do think that there is a significant audience that would respond positively to such a call.

Democratic society socialism and moving beyond the nation-state

Throughout the Perspective text, Öcalan argues that socialism based on the nation-state paradigm has historically exhausted itself. He suggests that we are now at the threshold of replacing it with democratic society socialism. How do you interpret this shift? How do you understand the concept of “democratic society socialism”?

Öcalan has been saying for nearly 30 years that he does not see the nation-state model as a viable alternative. What’s new in this perspective is how he defines socialism as a communal model of society.

This definition goes beyond the classical socialist framework that operates with the aim of proletarian rule. In fact, in some ways, it reminds me of the system created by the followers of Sheikh Bedreddin in the 15th century, in the Aegean towns in Western Anatolia.

If you’re asking for my personal opinion: I think that in the future, socialism will not spread through proletarian revolutions as envisioned in the 19th century, but rather in a way similar to the spread of Christianity in the 1st and 2nd centuries AD.

At the beginning of his letter, Öcalan says:

“We are at the end of a period in the existence and problematic of the Kurds, and at the threshold of a new era.”

This statement marks a historical rupture. It also carries a deep critique of how Kurdish self-consciousness has been manipulated by dominant ideologies. But some Kurds reacted with intense anger—sometimes going beyond mere criticism. How do you interpret this reaction? Can we call it a nationalist Kurdish reaction, and if so, why such anger?

These reactions are largely rooted in failure to comprehend the text. Of course, there are also bad-faith interpretations. But what’s being said is clear: Öcalan is saying, essentially, “The Kurdish existence and the problem of its recognition are now complete. What remains is the search for a solution.”

There are two key points that critics are missing.

First: Öcalan is addressing this to his own organization’s congress, and this is just one of the statements within a broader framework. Whether to accept or reject it is up to the addressee—i.e., the PKK, and they have accepted it.

If you’re both opposed to the PKK, and yet you’re blowing this one congress perspective statement out of proportion, that implies—whether you admit it or not—that you acknowledge Öcalan and the PKK as the defining force in Kurdish politics. Otherwise, why would you care so much about what they do?

Second: the obsessive fixation on this text—spinning entire worlds from it, framing it as some apocalyptic sign— is not healthy political thinking. It borders on a mental block.

There are also those who have built their entire political carriers for on opposing the PKK and Öcalan. This is what I referred to above when I said, “the process in one respect resembles the years 1975-76.” When the PKK emerged as a group in 1975-76 and acted based on the thesis “Kurdistan is a colony,” it was hit by crossfire from every circle — right-wing, left-wing, nationalist, and other nationalist groups. Established Kurdish organizations openly accused this group of provoking the state with slogans like “Kurdistan, colonialism, armed struggle,” warning that the state would take its revenge out on the poor Kurdish people, even engaging in armed clashes with the PKK to stop it. Meanwhile, leftist-socialist groups accused the PKK of leading Kurdish workers toward separatism and thereby weakening the united workers’ and socialists’ struggle. On the other hand, the Aydınlık newspaper featured Öcalan on their front pages as the “Leader (Başbuğ) of the East” and likened the PKK to Turkish nationalist Grey Wolf groups; liberal and social democratic circles called the Apoist group “Gaucheist” -comes from the French word Gauche but meaning who were seen as promoting violence or chaos without a clear or constructive political goal- and urged the state to act against them.

Since then, Öcalan and the PKK have become important actors in the Middle East, and through their struggle, the Kurdish issue has become a regional issue. Those who accused Öcalan and the PKK back then either no longer exist or continue to say the same things from their old positions.

Therefore, for the last six months, we have been living a repeat of 1975-76. Öcalan apparently does not take these seriously either, saying “the opponents of the process have no chance. They will be defeated.”

Öcalan argues that the religious identities represented by figures who have a place in the collective memory of the Kurds, such as Sheikh Said and Seyit Rıza (Sunni and Alevi), are reconstructed as extensions of the nation-state ideology. According to him, these identities are “fabricated” categories used to suppress and transform the unique Kurdish social fabric. How might this issue be explored more deeply?

In the text, the fabricated categories referred to are Naqshbandism and Alevism. He also says that these are “dead realities” and that the state uses these categories to lull the Kurds, which anyone with some knowledge of 20th-century Kurdish history would recognize.

The problem here — not only at this point but throughout the entire text — is as follows: As far as I understand, Öcalan does not submit a written text to the congress he attended online; rather, he presents spontaneous notes arranged under headings. In this sense, this is not a written “text” in the academic sense. The PKK also published the audio recordings of this speech without any editing. Therefore, there are breaks in meaning between sentences, gaps within the “text,” etc. For this reason, it would be inappropriate to subject this to critique as if it were an academic conference paper. Instead, it should be read and evaluated as a speech formulated under headings. When read this way, the emphasis on Naqshbandism and Alevism as fabricated categories and the assertion that the state uses them is quite understandable, especially from a leftist-socialist perspective.

Öcalan states that the nation-state paradigm instrumentalizes such religious and ethnic identities to liquidate the traditional Kurdish existence and speaks of communalist/confederal organizations instead of nation-state forms of organization. However, for some Kurds, this approach is seen as a betrayal of the Kurdish cause. How would you explain this situation? What should be understood from this?

If we take these statements seriously, 50 years ago there was a massive Kurdish identity and Kurdish movement; the PKK came and took over it, and since then has squandered that legacy! This is precisely an anachronism. Even the most established Kurdish organizations 50 years ago could not get beyond terms like “Eastern Question” and “Eastern People.” Also, the people themselves had little concern for Kurdishness since among Kurds living within Turkey’s borders there was no strong ethnic-national consciousness. When Öcalan said “Kurdistan is a colony,” those who loudly talked about Kurdistan and colonialism among Kurdish organizations and intellectuals were the exception.

Therefore, accusing a movement that has brought the Kurdish issue from that point to the present—and its leader—of “betrayal” based on the current situation is a simplistic and shallow approach. The depth of the issue is far beyond such shallow approaches.

The best phrase to describe this is “the Kurdish trap,” and the person who best understands and explains this trap — at least among the texts I have read — is Öcalan himself. When speaking of this trap, he says, “The historically established Kurdish trap is such a snare that if you rebel, you suffer all kinds of consequences; if you do not rebel, you face something worse.” That is, with the Kurdish trap set by the system, those who resist suffer pain, while those who do not lose their dignity. In both cases, the system wins, and the Kurds lose. Öcalan’s entire effort is to try to free the Kurds from this trap and to achieve a win for the Kurds, at least once. Unfortunately, the international system works as follows: No matter how much resistance you put up, if you do not win, it does not matter. But if you leave the table with something, your resistance is respected. Öcalan seems determined not to leave the table without gaining anything.

Öcalan defines his leadership position as “the building of socialist leadership in Kurdish-Kurdistan history. Apo is a leadership construction; it is not a personality cult, but a collective leadership construction”. This definition reflects his intention to avoid both the personality cults of real socialist experiences and the traditional patterns of patriarchal authority in the Middle East. Nevertheless, some groups and individuals criticize him by saying “Apo makes himself untouchable.” What would you like to say about this?

Mahir Sayın said in the introduction to his 1996 interview book that Öcalan is a person “whom it is forbidden to praise but free to curse.” That remains true. Those who praise him are punished by the state, while those who curse him are rewarded. Therefore, I do not see any untouchability. On the contrary, I see a person who has been in prison for political reasons for 25 years and deprived of his ability to defend himself, not untouched but literally riddled with needles.

Öcalan emphasizes that building peace is as complex and difficult a process as war. He points out that this process can only be carried out by the primary actors who are direct parties to the conflict, not secondary or tertiary actors. At this point, peace is not only a political goal but also seen as a social reconstruction process. How do you think this issue is evaluated on the Turkish side?

Certainly, those who fight are the ones who make peace. Often — though not always — having these actors directly engage with each other facilitates matters. Of course, what each side understands by peace is not the same. We also see this in practice. Moreover, it is not yet clear whether this process will succeed. But if there is a war, there will be a peace, and peace treaties are texts negotiated by the warring parties but signed without any being fully satisfied.

From Öcalan’s perspective, peace is not only a political goal but also a social reconstruction process, as you emphasized. But from the state side, we have not yet heard anything serious beyond the usual rehearsed narratives. No group — or “statelets,” as I called them above — openly shows their true colors because these statelets are also in competition with one another, and this competition is symbolized by a nationalism race. No one wants to come forward early and make themselves a target to the others. Especially considering the ultra-nationalist-skullcap atmosphere created by the neo-Ittihadi mentality between 2016-2023 and its influence on structures, we can say that the Turkish side’s task is not easy.

Women, gender, and social reconstruction: new contributions to jineology?

Öcalan opposes biological determinism in his assessment of gender differences. Using Einstein’s formula E=mc² as a reference, he takes the physical reality of matter converting to energy and energy converting to matter as one of the foundational supports for his social analyses. What do you think about Öcalan’s reading here?

If we consider this together with the previous question, Öcalan for the first time opens up a discussion about the existence of LGBT+ individuals in such depth. By stating “There is no insurmountable abyss between female and male,” he clearly expresses his criticism of the binary gender system. However, will we receive answers to our questions in Jinology education and seminars, such as “You criticize the binary gender regime, but you do not get out of the binary gender narrative; how should we understand this?”

Continuing with my third question in the same context, Öcalan’s comment “What is notable here is that there is no insurmountable abyss between female and male. Of course, this has philosophical, sociological, and moral dimensions. It has a reflection in society. These can be overcome with dialectical thinking,” — could this bring a new form to binary gender narratives?

If I am to answer all three questions together, I want to point to Öcalan’s transformation over 30 years. In his interview with Mahir Sayın in 1995, Öcalan said “homosexuality is a disease.” After nearly 25 years in prison, 30 years later, he interprets the fluidity between female and male genders as part of nature and applies Einstein’s physical formulas to social and biological gender issues. This is both a serious transformation and a critical contribution to the gender and women’s theory he developed himself. I believe this will seriously influence the “binary gender narrative” you mentioned.

In the ‘Congress Perspective’ text, Öcalan defines a woman-centered clan society not only by biological motherhood but also by care, cultural transmission, and ethical organization. In this sense, these clans — which constitute the earliest formal social order — are units that determine the moral and emotional coordinates of communal life rather than modern political units. According to Öcalan, this structure was destroyed by capitalist modernity and replaced by a patriarchal, class-based, militarized nation-state model. Should we be optimistic about the reconstruction of communes?

He says the destruction of this structure happened much earlier, in the Sumerian period, and capitalist modernity gave it the form we know now. He had expressed this view before in his books. What is new in this perspective — at least something I haven’t seen in his earlier writings — is that the matriarchal period is assessed as a kind of power domain through goddess worship. “The goddess causes the death of the one who performs a sacred marriage with her. The sociological explanation is that the goddess does not want to give way to the male god,” he says, which suggests plenty of discussion topics on women-power-matriarchy.

Regarding the building of communes instead of the patriarchal, class-based, militarized nation-state model, we have a practical model: Rojava. If we look at the Rojava model as a concrete application of this theory, we might get a clearer idea of whether this model works.

Critique of capitalist modernity and the search for a new sociality

According to Öcalan, capitalist modernity transforms the nation into a military society, institutionalizing the continuity of war and violence. This system is not only an economic exploitation mechanism but also a form of social domination that suppresses female identity, commodifies nature, and atomizes individuals by breaking social relations. In this context, he emphasizes that Marx’s analyses of industrialism were limited and that socialist theory is inadequate in transcending modernity. According to him, “an anti-capitalist discourse alone” cannot build an alternative system. So, what should be done?

I don’t know about “what to do,” but I know “what not to do.” We should not expect different results by repeating the same experiment under the same conditions because no different result will come. Since Marx, societies and the working class have undergone changes, and new solutions must be proposed accordingly.

Öcalan develops a kind of rejection not only of the nation-state but also of industrialism, saying that industrialism is intertwined with the nation-state and the development of war technologies. Marx regarded the industrial revolution not only as inevitable but also as one of the milestones on the path to communism.

That was probably the most reasonable socialist explanation at that time. Two hundred years have passed. Especially with internet technology, 300 years of progress has been made in the last 30 years.

Therefore, times have changed. In Öcalan’s words, it is necessary to correctly read the "spirit of the time" and find solutions appropriate to it. Öcalan is trying to read the spirit of the time from his own perspective along with its historical foundations and to offer proper solutions accordingly.

Öcalan’s replacement of the class with the commune is not just about sticking to anti-capitalist rhetoric but about trying to go beyond it — all of this is a product of that effort. From an international left-socialist perspective, this is an important and valuable endeavor. Unfortunately, in Turkey, it becomes the subject of sterile debates.

As a result, according to Öcalan, the peace process is not only about the silencing of weapons; it is about the construction of a new society — that is, a democratic, ecological, gender-libertarian, and communalist way of life. This approach expresses a political and ethical vision that carries universal claims and has the capacity to intervene not only in the Kurdish issue but also in regional and global conflicts.

In this context, what would you like to say as a conclusion?

I think it is necessary to consider two issues — Öcalan’s general political-ideological stance and the Perspective text — as connected but separate. Öcalan has many books where he defines his ideological-political position.

Those who want to understand exactly what he thinks can read those. Trying to interpret Öcalan solely through a speech text he presented at his own organization’s congress and deriving a story of victory or defeat, hero or traitor, based on the emphases in that speech is a futile effort.

Moreover, the Perspective text itself offers a coherent and comprehensible vision. It is a text that explains the current situation from a historical perspective and claims significance both locally and universally. I believe that in the near future this perspective will be better understood, and many of those who criticize Öcalan today based on this text will come to agree with him over time.

(EJA/VK)