By Dr. Adnan Bouzan
In a revealing political moment—one in which masks can no longer hold—the American position appears as the distilled outcome of a long-standing logic of crude pragmatism: a logic governed neither by values, nor alliances, nor the moral discourse Washington has long promoted, but solely by a volatile calculus of interests. What was articulated by Tom Barrack, whether in its explicit wording or implicit meanings, can only be read as a belated declaration of a structural truth in U.S. policy: the United States does not view the Kurds as a long-term strategic partner, but rather as a temporary functional instrument—used when needed and discarded at the first shift in regional or international equations.
This exposure does not represent a break with the past so much as a reaffirmation of it. The Kurdish experience with Washington, from Iraq to Syria, reveals a recurring pattern of deferred promises and conditional support, whereby Kurdish sacrifices are invested in the wars of others, only to fail later to translate into entrenched political rights or binding constitutional guarantees. What is being proposed today, therefore, is not a historical surprise as much as it is a psychological and political shock resulting from the delayed acknowledgment of this reality.
The discourse surrounding the “end of the role” of the Syrian Democratic Forces (SDF), and the call to dismantle them and integrate their members individually into a military institution subordinate to the authority in Damascus, cannot be understood as a merely administrative or security-related option. Rather, it constitutes a profoundly dangerous political decision. This proposal does not simply entail dissolving a military formation; it signifies the liquidation of an entire political experience that emerged in the context of the war against ISIS and was forged through immense sacrifices made in the name of defending humanity at large. To dismantle the SDF in this manner is to erase collective memory, annul the meaning of martyrdom, and reduce Kurdish blood to a passing footnote in a narrative written by others.
More alarming still is that this trajectory is not presented within the framework of a comprehensive Syrian national project that redefines the state on democratic and pluralistic foundations. Instead, it is offered to the Kurds as a “possible settlement” or a “generous concession” from an authority that has never recognized the Kurds as a people with collective political rights. Here, rights are not articulated as constitutional entitlements but granted as conditional gifts—subject to interpretation and revocation according to shifting power balances. In essence, this formula amounts to nothing more than the reproduction of centralized authoritarianism, with a change in language rather than in structure.
Within this context, the Kurdish tragedy becomes starkly visible: a people placed on the front lines of the fiercest battle against a transnational terrorist organization, presented as the spearhead of the global war on ISIS, only to be asked later to forget everything and accept a return to the political margins—without guarantees, without recognition, and without any moral or legal accountability for the fate of thousands of martyrs who fell from Manbij to Raqqa, Deir ez-Zor, and all the way to Baghouz. As though that blood were nothing more than an “operational cost” in a military project whose usefulness ended once the need for it disappeared.
Yet serious political critique cannot be complete if it confines itself to condemning external actors while ignoring internal responsibility. The choices made by the Democratic Union Party (PYD) and its political apparatus played a central role in steering the Kurdish cause in Syria toward this impasse. The near-total reliance on the United States, and the treatment of it as a permanent guarantor rather than a contingent partner, undermined the ability to build an independent political strategy and stripped the Kurdish movement of its maneuvering tools. Politics was replaced by security, and Syrian national alliances were supplanted by transient military arrangements—transforming armed force from a means of protecting a political project into a burden negotiated by others, in the name of its owners but without them.
Moreover, the absence of genuine Kurdish pluralism, the marginalization of other political forces, and the closure of space for serious internal critique deepened political isolation and rendered Kurdish decision-making captive to a narrow circle of partisan calculations rather than a comprehensive Kurdish national interest. Here lies one of the most dangerous consequences of this path: when the cause of an entire people is reduced to a single organization, the fate of the people becomes hostage to the fate and choices of that organization.
The true catastrophe, therefore, lies not only in Washington’s betrayal, but in the loss of the Kurdish compass between the illusion of international protection and the impossibility of forced integration into a centralized state that has undertaken no fundamental review of its structure or its historical relationship with the Kurds. Calls for individual dissolution into the regime’s army under the slogans of “national unity” and “sovereignty” practically mean dismantling the last remaining Kurdish bargaining power—transforming the Kurds from political actors into a managed group, deployed when necessary and sidelined when no longer needed.
In sum, we are confronted with an exceedingly harsh scene: blood shed in the name of the war on terror; a political project left unfortified by decision-making independence; and an international power managing the region according to the logic of a chessboard, where small pieces are sacrificed without hesitation. Exiting this impasse will not be achieved through denial or emotional rhetoric, but through a courageous and profound Kurdish review—one that restores politics as an independent act, affirms genuine national partnership, and rebuilds Kurdish unity on the basis of pluralism rather than exclusion. Otherwise, what has occurred will not mark the end of the tragedy, but the beginning of an even more painful chapter in the long history of recurring betrayal.