By Dr. Adnan Bouzan
One of the most persistent questions in Kurdish consciousness appears simple on the surface, yet carries immense pain and reflection within it: Why have most peoples of the world obtained their own nation-states, or at least forms of regional autonomy and self-government that preserve their existence and identity, while the Kurds—despite their large population and historical presence on their homeland—continue to live in a state of fragmentation, division, and political instability?
The purpose of this question is not to search for a ready-made culprit or to reduce the issue to a single factor. The Kurdish question has, throughout its long history, been shaped by a complex web of regional and international dynamics. It has also collided with wars, treaties, and political interests that have prevented the establishment of a Kurdish state. Nevertheless, it remains essential for the Kurds to possess the courage to examine their own internal shortcomings, for peoples who fail to practice self-criticism remain prisoners of their mistakes, regardless of the magnitude of the injustices they have suffered.
Nations do not advance through emotion alone, nor do they build their future solely through nostalgia for the past. Rather, they progress from narrow traditional bonds toward the broader realm of citizenship, institutions, the rule of law, and political thought. Here, a painful question emerges: Is Kurdish society truly moving toward modern civic life, or is it, in some respects, witnessing a growing return to tribal and clan loyalties that many other nations have already overcome?
What is troubling is not the existence of tribes themselves, for tribal structures have historically been part of the social fabric of many societies. The concern arises when tribal affiliation is transformed into a political and cultural reference point that takes precedence over competence, knowledge, and institutions. When tribal identity becomes stronger than national identity, and when positions are determined by names and personal loyalties rather than by programs and ideas, society begins to decline regardless of the sacrifices it has made or the potential it possesses.
Over the past decades, the Kurds have made tremendous sacrifices and paid a heavy price in defense of their existence and rights. Yet sacrifices alone, no matter how great, cannot build the future unless they are translated into a modern political project and institutions capable of governing society according to standards of competence and law. History does not automatically reward victims; rather, it rewards peoples who are able to organize themselves, build institutions, and cultivate intellectual and political elites.
Ironically, many societies once described as traditional have begun strengthening the role of the state, institutions, education, and scientific research. Meanwhile, some Kurdish circles continue to regard tribal solidarity as a source of strength or political pride, as though a return to traditional forms of affiliation could serve as an alternative to building a modern civic society.
The real danger facing the Kurdish cause lies not only in the policies of neighboring states or in international power balances. It also lies in the persistence of a culture of division, personal dependency, and the glorification of leaders and tribes at the expense of ideas and institutions. Nations are not built on narrow loyalties; they are built on citizenship, awareness, organization, and the rule of law.
Therefore, the question Kurds should ask themselves is not only: Why have we not obtained our own state? It is also: Have we achieved the intellectual and social transformation necessary to build a modern state when the opportunity arises? Have we succeeded in moving from the logic of the tribe to the logic of civil society, and from loyalty to individuals toward loyalty to institutions?
What is particularly concerning today is not merely the difficulty of completing the transition toward modern civic life, but the emergence of signs indicating a retreat toward patterns of political thought and behavior driven more by tribalism and emotion than by reason, criticism, and coherent programs. Instead of law, citizenship, and the public interest serving as the highest points of reference, partisan, tribal, and personal loyalties increasingly shape attitudes and decisions.
If this trajectory continues, the problem will not simply be a delay in state-building. It will represent a regression in the very nature of political and social consciousness. A society that replaces reason with tribalism, ideas with slogans, and critical thinking with unquestioning reverence does not merely return to the past; it moves toward a condition in which emotion becomes stronger than thought, loyalty stronger than truth, and instinct stronger than reason. In such circumstances, political disagreements are transformed into existential conflicts, and politics becomes an arena for settling loyalties and rivalries rather than a field of competition between visions and projects.
The real question today is no longer: Why have the Kurds not yet achieved their own state? Rather, it is: How can a people build a modern state while remaining unable to complete the transition from traditional structures to civic institutions, from the authority of individuals to the authority of institutions, and from the logic of tribal solidarity to the logic of citizenship?
The advancement of nations is not achieved through attachment to the illusions of the past, nor through a return to primordial divisions. It is achieved through the development of free individuals, the promotion of a culture of critical thinking, and the strengthening of the values of knowledge, reason, and law. A state is not merely a territory and a flag; above all, it is the product of civic consciousness, strong institutions, and a society capable of managing its differences rationally. Without these foundations, the dream of statehood will remain deferred, no matter how great the sacrifices or how profound the aspirations.