
By Dr. Adnan Bozan
In politics, a people are not defeated when they lose a battle; they are defeated when they can no longer distinguish between symbolism and rights, between promises and guarantees, and between political courtesy and constitutional recognition. Here lies one of the deepest crises in Kurdish political consciousness.
How much we Kurds need to engage in self-criticism before demanding that others reconsider their own policies. Our problem has never been confined to our adversaries; it also lies in the way we approach politics, in our rapid shift from skepticism to applause, from despair to optimism, and from creating leaders to manufacturing new disappointments.
Painfully, the Kurdish people have often been driven more by emotion than by political calculation. The moment a positive gesture is made, a conciliatory speech is delivered, or a message is issued in the Kurdish language, many immediately interpret it as the beginning of a new historical era—as though a national cause that has endured for more than a century could be resolved through a social media post or a speech containing a few Kurdish words.
The interim President of Syria, Mr. Ahmad al-Sharaa, recently published a message in Kurdish on the X platform. Some may view this as a positive symbolic gesture, and there is no denying that political symbolism can play an important role in fostering trust between the state and society. Yet the real question is not in which language the message was written, nor whether it was drafted with the assistance of artificial intelligence or otherwise. The real question is this: What political and constitutional consequences will follow?
National causes are not resolved through symbolism alone. They are resolved through constitutional provisions, legal frameworks, explicit recognition of rights, and guarantees that do not change with governments or political leaders.
History reminds us of this reality. During the early years of President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan's rule in Türkiye, many Kurds regarded a series of reforms as signs of a historic transformation. These included expanding the public use of the Kurdish language, permitting Kurdish-language media, and strengthening Kurdish political representation in parliament and local administrations. Yet that process was later followed by significant setbacks. Confrontation returned, many of those gains were reversed, and a large segment of Kurdish society was compelled to reassess that period, concluding that it had ultimately failed to fulfill their expectations.
This raises a legitimate question today: Should the Kurds be satisfied with symbolic messages, or should they wait until such gestures are translated into clear and binding constitutional guarantees?
Politics is not the art of applause; it is the art of understanding interests. Those who confuse media signals with legal commitments may find themselves, years later, confronting the very same reality experienced by previous generations.
History—from the Treaty of Sèvres to the Treaty of Lausanne, and through many other chapters in the region's past—has taught us that political promises alone are never enough. Rights that are not enshrined in constitutions and legally binding agreements remain vulnerable to changing political balances and shifting power dynamics.
For this reason, the Kurdish political movement today should neither rush into hostility toward any new authority nor reject every initiative outright. Instead, it must negotiate with strategic patience and a clear understanding of political realities, refusing to substitute legal guarantees with personal trust. States are built upon institutions, not intentions.
At the same time, part of the Kurdish public must also acknowledge its share of responsibility. Too often, we move from glorifying one political figure to another, from placing our hopes in one leader only to transfer them to the next, without asking fundamental questions about political programs, constitutional arrangements, the structure of the state, or the concrete guarantees that protect rights.
The Kurdish cause does not need another savior as much as it needs a coherent political project and an intellectual and political elite capable of distinguishing between symbolic gestures and legal rights, between political rhetoric and constitutional commitment.
As for the leaks, narratives, and speculations circulating about political figures, organizations, or undisclosed political arrangements, they should be approached with great caution. Politics is as crowded with rumors as it is with facts, and no nation should build its strategic decisions upon unverified information.
Perhaps the gravest danger any people can face is the loss of its political memory. Nations that fail to study their history carefully often find themselves walking the same path once again, even if only the names and faces have changed.
The future will not be built through applause or slogans. It will be built through the ability to transform every political opening into permanent constitutional rights and legally protected guarantees. Otherwise, history will continue to repeat itself, and the Kurdish people will continue, in every generation, to wait for yet another savior while their national cause remains suspended between promises and disappointments.