A Kurdish Victory: How American Intervention in 2003 Liberated and Empowered Kurdistan
by Peshraw Mohammed

Introduction: A Kurdish Odyssey from Betrayal to Triumph
My story is rooted in the heart of Kurdistan, a land of resilience and yearning, torn apart by the whims of empires and the betrayals of history. In 1921, Britain and France, wielding the arbitrary pen of colonialism, divided Kurdistan into four fragments, annexing my part to the newly formed state of Iraq. This was a bitter deception, as the Kurds had been promised a homeland of their own in the Treaty of Sèvres, signed on August 10, 1920, between the Allied powers and the Ottoman Empire. That treaty, born in the aftermath of World War I, dangled the hope of an independent Kurdistan before us. But Turkish objections crushed that dream, leading to the Treaty of Lausanne, signed on July 24, 1923, in Switzerland. This agreement redrew the map of the Middle East, solidifying the borders of modern Turkey and apportioning Kurdish lands to Iraq, Syria, and Iran. For the Kurds in all these states, this was not just a geopolitical maneuver—it was a sentence to alienation, exclusion, and suffering.
In Iraq, we Kurds never accepted our forced incorporation, nor were we welcomed as equals by the Arab majority. Instead, we faced relentless oppression, marked by two genocides under Saddam Hussein’s regime. His campaigns of violence, including the infamous Anfal genocide and the chemical attacks on Halabja, sought to erase our identity, our culture, and our very existence. Yet our spirit endured. The Kurdish liberation movement, through decades of struggle, secured a fragile autonomy for our region in 1991. But this hard-won freedom was precarious. In 1992, the threat of another Iraqi assault, including the specter of chemical gassing, drove us to Korew—our word for the mass exodus that saw entire communities flee in fear. That same year, the United States and its allies imposed a no-fly zone, a lifeline that offered a semblance of protection and a fleeting taste of freedom. Still, Kurdistan remained strangled by political isolation, economic sanctions, and cultural suppression from all neighboring states—Turkey, Iran, Syria, and Iraq itself.
The 1990s were a time of profound hardship. Poverty gripped every household, and survival was a daily battle. I attended school in the late 1990s, under the weight of this collective struggle, where the lack of resources was as palpable as the resilience of our teachers and families. We studied in crumbling classrooms, with empty stomachs and unwavering dreams. Then came 2003, a turning point that reshaped our destiny. The American intervention in Iraq, often debated and criticized, was for us Kurds a beacon of liberation. It dismantled Saddam’s tyranny and flung open doors that had long been bolted shut. Almost overnight, Kurdistan transformed from a marginalized, sanctioned region into a vibrant hub of opportunity in the Middle East. The cultural renaissance that followed revived our language, music, and traditions. Politically, we gained a voice, with political movements stepping onto the global stage. Intellectually and academically, our universities flourished, and our youth began to dream beyond survival. This article tells my story—a journey from the darkness of oppression to the light of possibility, through the lens of a Kurd who witnessed the transformative power of the 2003 intervention.
In this narrative, I do not claim that American intervention was responsible for the emergence of the Kurdish language or Kurdish intellectualism, as the Kurdish language has been a vital medium for expressing spirit, emotion, communication, politics, culture, and art for over five centuries, and Kurdish intellectualism has consistently existed across most parts of Kurdistan, even before the division following the Ottoman Empire’s collapse. During World War II, intellectual movements were primarily shaped by Marxism, some by liberal democracy, and a few minor ones by Nazi ideology. However, I argue that, from a geopolitical standpoint, American intervention was one of the most significant events in recent Kurdish history and the region.
The Kurdish Language: From Margins to Philosophical Eminence
In the tapestry of human history, where threads of language weave the narratives of nations, the story of the Kurdish tongue is one of resilience, suppression, and, ultimately, a transcendent rebirth. Two years ago, I encountered an article by Jay Loschky, “Life in Kurdistan: A Tale of Two Wars?,” which opened with a striking revelation: “And unlike in the south, the invasion generated goodwill for the U.S. that is still present today. In late 2022, nearly four in five adults in Iraq’s Kurdish region (79%) said they approved of U.S. leadership, making Iraqi Kurdistan the most pro-American political entity in the Middle East at any time, even more so than historical U.S. ally, Israel (67% in 2017 and 2018). In contrast, across the rest of Iraq, 28% of residents approved of U.S. leadership.” This statistic unveils a profound divergence in perception, one that beckons a deeper inquiry into why the Kurds, unlike their neighbors, shun the term “American invasion” in favor of “War of Liberation.” This choice of words is not mere semantics; it is a philosophical act, a reclamation of narrative that shapes the consciousness of a people and the destiny of their language.
For the Kurds, language is not merely a tool of communication but a vessel of identity, a living archive of their struggles and aspirations. To invoke Hegel, whose philosophy illuminates the dynamic interplay of concepts and reality, words are not static abstractions but dialectical entities, “the unity that is in itself differentiated, and this differentiation is its own determination” (Science of Logic, §160). Concepts, for Hegel, are the truth of being, the mediators through which reality and thought converge. The Kurdish embrace of “War of Liberation” over “invasion” is a conceptual revolution, a refusal to let external narratives define their experience. It is a declaration that the events of 2003 were not an imposition but an emancipation, a catalyst for the Kurdish language to rise from the margins to the philosophical forefront of a reborn nation.
Before 2003, the Kurdish language languished under the weight of systematic suppression across the four fragments of Kurdistan. In Turkey, the prohibition of Kurdish was not merely legislative but existential; to speak it was to risk death, as the state waged an ideological war to erase it from public and private spheres. In Syria, the story was grimly similar, with Kurdish voices silenced under the guise of Arabization. In Iran, while direct state violence was less overt, an insidious ideological campaign sought to marginalize the language, though it could not extinguish its flame. In Iraq, under the Ba’athist regime, the Kurdish language was not wholly banned but was shackled by fear. To use it politically or scientifically was to court execution, forcing Kurds to whisper their mother tongue in the shadows, stripped of its potential to engage with the world’s intellectual currents.
The partial autonomy gained in 1991, following the Gulf War and the establishment of the no-fly zone, offered a fragile reprieve. The Kurdish language began to stir, like a seed breaking through frostbitten soil. Yet it was the seismic shift of 2003, the War of Liberation, that shattered the chains binding this ancient tongue. The fall of Saddam Hussein’s regime did not merely topple a dictator; it unleashed a cultural and intellectual renaissance that elevated Kurdish from a forcibly marginalized language to a philosophical language. Almost overnight, the Kurdish region became a crucible of possibility, where economic and political support converged to nurture a linguistic awakening.
This awakening was no mere accident of history but a deliberate flowering, nourished by the newfound freedom to engage with the world. Thousands of publishing houses sprang up across Kurdistan, their presses humming with the fervor of young translators who brought the world’s literary and philosophical treasures into Kurdish. The complete works of Plato, Aristotle, Augustine, Descartes, Hume, Voltaire, Rousseau, Kant, Hegel, Fichte, Schopenhauer, Nietzsche, Heidegger, and the luminaries of French theory, alongside sociologists like Max Weber and Bertrand Russell, let alone Sigmund Freud, Alfred Adler, Carl Jung, Jacques Lacan, Erich Fromm, and the Frankfurt School, found new life in Kurdish translations. These were not mere texts but portals, allowing a people long denied access to global thought to converse with the universal. Universities blossomed, their philosophical faculties becoming beacons of inquiry where Kurdish scholars wrestled with the eternal questions of existence, ethics, and being.
Various philosophical currents and their associated ideologies have shaped intellectual discourse, with Marxism dominating from the 1960s to the late 1990s. After 2003, Marxism waned, and liberal currents gained prominence, leading to the translation into Kurdish of works by philosophers like John Locke, Adam Smith, Charles de Montesquieu, John Stuart Mill, Karl Popper, John Rawls, and Raymond Aron, generating commentary and influencing intellectual thought. French theory, particularly postmodernism, also became a major force, with translations of works by Michel Foucault, Gilles Deleuze, Jean-François Lyotard, Jacques Derrida, Jean Baudrillard, and Roland Barthes ongoing. Nietzsche significantly influences intellectual debates, alongside Martin Heidegger, whose works are also translated and used to interpret Kurdish society, history, politics, and economics. German idealism and classical philosophy, particularly Hegel and Kant, remain highly influential, with their works widely translated. Recently, Hegel’s ideas have gained traction among young Kurds, who use them to philosophically ground discussions of Kurdish history, identity, statehood, and nationhood, as explored in my TelosScope article on Hegel’s influence among Kurds and Jews. Around 2010, a new wave of Marxism, often termed neo-Marxism or post-Marxism, began to attract scholars in Kurdistan. Philosophers associated with this movement, such as Slavoj Žižek, Alain Badiou, Giorgio Agamben, Ernesto Laclau, and Jacques Rancière, have had their works translated, alongside a renewed interest in Guy Debord. This current is now vying for prominence in intellectual circles.
The War of Liberation, then, was not merely a geopolitical event but a philosophical watershed. It liberated not only land but the very soul of a language, allowing it to transcend its historical wounds. Where once Kurdish was a tongue of survival, spoken in defiance of erasure, it became a medium of contemplation, a language capable of articulating the sublime and the profound. The proliferation of publishing houses dedicated solely to philosophical texts is a testament to this transformation. These institutions did not merely print books; they forged a new intellectual identity for a people who had been told their language was unworthy of such aspirations.
To speak of the Kurdish language’s journey is to speak of a people’s refusal to be defined by their suffering. It is to recognize, as Hegel might, that the Concept of liberation is not a static ideal but a living process, one that unfolds through the dialectical interplay of oppression and resistance, silence and speech. The Kurdish language, once confined to the margins, now stands as a philosophical force, a testament to the power of a people to reclaim their voice and, with it, their place in the constellation of human thought.
In this vibrant intellectual landscape of Kurdistan, distinct currents have shaped both thought and politics. Liberal intellectuals, exemplified by Mariwan Kanie, have passionately advocated for progressive ideals tailored to Kurdish society, often aligning with reformist movements like the Gorran Movement. Kanie’s works, such as Forced Paradise: On Religiosity and the New Religious Actors in Kurdistan, boldly challenge Islamist narratives, stirring debate and even criticism from some on the Left. In his book Radical Thinking: On Slavoj Žižek, Sayyid Qutb, and Liberalism, he meticulously critiques the parallels between radical ideologies, cementing his role as a leading liberal voice.
In stark contrast, French theory, exemplified by the acclaimed novelist Bachtyar Ali, whose works have been translated into numerous European languages and earned German literary prizes, adopts an apolitical stance tinged with cultural pessimism. Ali draws on post-Marxist thinkers like Slavoj Žižek, Alain Badiou, and Louis Althusser, subtly countering Kanie’s liberalism through his novels. His influence has significantly shaped the intellectual and political climate in Kurdistan, offering a critique of liberal ideals rooted in post-Marxist frameworks.
Meanwhile, Mohammed Kamal, a prominent Kurdish philosopher and professor at Melbourne University, has become a spiritual leader of Nietzscheanism and Heideggerianism in Kurdistan. An atheist, Kamal translates major philosophical texts into Kurdish, inspiring a generation of readers. However, many of his followers have veered toward reactionary politics—not in religious terms, but in their political outlook—further diversifying the region’s intellectual currents.
A younger generation, inspired by the Frankfurt School and including myself, critically engages with these three currents—liberalism, French theory, and Nietzschean reactionism. This group has pioneered antisemitic studies in Kurdistan, with works like my Genealogy of the Camp: How the Holocaust Started, my translation of Adorno’s Minima Moralia (in progress), and translations of Walter Benjamin’s writings. Others have translated Adorno’s texts on right-wing radicalism and Auschwitz. My two-volume book Dance on the Volcano: Nietzsche and Gesamtkunstwerk was an intellectual quest challenging both Heideggerianism and French theory. In the context of the Israel–Iran conflict, this generation intellectually aligns with Israel but remains neutral in internal Kurdish politics, prioritizing philosophical depth and intellectual rigor.
This Frankfurt School–inspired cohort, blending leftist, liberal, and conservative ideals, is seen as politically astute regarding Kurdistan’s future. Their focus on antisemitic studies and critical engagement with both global and local intellectual trends sets them apart, fostering a nuanced, non-partisan approach that seeks to navigate the complex interplay of ideas shaping Kurdish society.
Kurdish Universities as Beacons of Enlightenment
In the aftermath of 2003, Kurdistan witnessed a renaissance, with universities rising across Erbil, Sulaymaniyah, and Duhok as sanctuaries of intellectual and moral renewal. These institutions were not mere buildings but philosophical crucibles, forging a higher political consciousness, nurturing civil societies, and championing enlightenment against radicalism and religious intolerance. Hailed as “the last safe haven for secularism,” Kurdistan’s 2012 educational reform—mandating religious neutrality in public schools and equal teaching of all major faiths—set a precedent unmatched in the Middle East. This part explores how Kurdish universities became the vanguard of a transformative vision, reshaping a people’s destiny through the power of ideas.
These universities emerged as acts of defiance against a history of marginalization, embodying the philosophical ideal that knowledge is liberation. They fostered a political consciousness that rejected authoritarianism, engaging students with concepts of governance and justice to envision a pluralistic society. Through seminars and debates, they cultivated a generation equipped to build a democratic future grounded in dialogue.
Beyond politics, universities were the heart of civil society, weaving networks of trust through student unions, public lectures, and community initiatives. These spaces bridged divides, fostering a civic ethos rooted in mutual respect and enlightenment ideals of reason and universality, creating a society united in shared purpose.
Most significantly, these institutions confronted radicalism and intolerance, nurturing a culture of secular inquiry. The 2012 reform, born in academic halls, challenged dogmas through courses in ethics and comparative religion, promoting tolerance over division. Despite resistance from traditionalists, universities stood firm, deconstructing extremism through critical thought and fostering a society that valued coexistence.
Kurdish universities were not just schools but forges of enlightenment, where reason healed the wounds of history. They transformed Kurdistan into a beacon of progress, proving that ideas can illuminate even the darkest corners, guiding a people toward a future of tolerance and unity.
Several universities in Kurdistan host distinct philosophical faculties, each with unique traditions, though their boundaries are not always rigid. Salahaddin University in Erbil has a philosophy department emphasizing Greek and medieval philosophy, maintaining a strictly apolitical stance amid the Kurdish context. The University of Raparin, located in Ranya—a city of historical significance due to the 1991 uprising against Saddam Hussein, where civil disobedience and armed resistance expelled Iraqi forces—established its philosophical faculty in 2005 under Kawa Jalal, a scholar trained in Germany during the 1980s. Jalal steered the faculty toward the Frankfurt School and Martin Heidegger’s thought. However, between 2009 and 2013, a group of young Kurds, funded by the government to study in the UK, returned and shifted the faculty’s focus toward analytical philosophy. Lastly, the University of Sulaimani is a hub for leftist and postmodernist currents, with French theory exerting significant influence. During the financial crisis in Kurdistan, student movements opposing market deregulation, privatization of state-owned enterprises, and salary cuts for public employees emerged from the University of Raparin and the University of Sulaimani.
Struggling for Democracy
Western ideals began to permeate Kurdistan, leading many Western observers to see the region as a potential stronghold for democratic values in a volatile Middle East. However, the journey toward democracy was far from smooth, marked by internal rivalries and external challenges. The political arena was long dominated by the Kurdistan Democratic Party (KDP) and the Patriotic Union of Kurdistan (PUK), which sought to divide power and wealth between themselves. This dynamic shifted with the rise of the Gorran Movement (Change Movement) in 2009, which championed social and political reform and quickly became the second-strongest party in parliament. Its success forced the ruling parties to compromise, reshaping the political landscape. New voices, including youth, student, and feminist movements, also emerged, though efforts to advance LGBT rights faced significant resistance, reflecting the region’s complex social fabric.
The foundation for Kurdish democracy was laid in Iraqi Kurdistan after the 1990–91 Gulf War, when a U.S.-led coalition enforced a no-fly zone, protecting the Kurds from Saddam Hussein’s aerial attacks. This allowed for the region’s first real taste of autonomy. In May 1992, parliamentary elections established the Kurdistan National Assembly, with the KDP and PUK nearly splitting the seats and forming a unity government. However, this early democratic effort was tested by a civil war from 1994 to 1998, which split the region between the two parties. Peace was restored in 1998 through the U.S.-mediated Washington Agreement, stabilizing the democratic framework.
In the twenty-first century, Iraqi Kurdistan solidified its autonomy with American support during the Iraq War and insurgency, fostering a relatively advanced democratic system compared to other regions. The rise of opposition movements like Gorran challenged the KDP-PUK dominance, pushing for greater accountability. Meanwhile, in Syria’s Kurdish region of Rojava, democracy began to take root as Kurdish forces fought ISIS and secured territory, of course again with the support of the United States. These efforts laid the groundwork for local governance and inclusivity, hinting at the potential for a new autonomous region. Despite these strides, Kurdish democracy remains a work in progress, grappling with internal divisions, external pressures, and societal challenges, yet sustained by the resilience of its people and their vision for a more representative future.
A point should be raised regarding Rojava in this context. Rojava, formally the Autonomous Administration of North and East Syria (AANES), emerged during the Syrian Civil War as a Kurdish-led autonomous region, capturing areas like Kobanî, Afrin, and Jazira in 2012 amid the Assad regime’s withdrawal. Its governance model is deeply rooted in the intellectual ideologies of Abdullah Öcalan’s democratic confederalism, Murray Bookchin’s ecological communalism, and Toni Negri’s autonomist theories, which collectively emphasize decentralized, egalitarian systems, gender equality, ecological sustainability, and multiethnic cooperation. These ideas attracted global leftists, anarchists, and autonomists, inspired by Rojava’s radical vision. Its fight against ISIS, notably during the 2014–15 Siege of Kobanî, aligned it with the U.S.-led coalition as the Syrian Democratic Forces (SDF), elevating its international profile.
Post-Assad, Rojava has leaned toward emphasizing Kurdish identity, reflecting regional pressures and a shift from its universalist roots. Despite its anarchist and communalist ideological foundations, Rojava has pursued pragmatic alliances, particularly with the United States, and recently signaled potential cooperation with Israel, as commander Mazloum Abdi noted in a BBC Farsi interview. Deputy Elham Ahmad also expressed gratitude to Israel in a Jerusalem Post interview for past support, underscoring Rojava’s complex navigation of geopolitical realities while striving to uphold its intellectual commitment to decentralized, ecological, and egalitarian governance.
The collaboration between Rojava’s Kurds and the United States left the global left in a state of confusion and indecision. While Kurdish forces relied on American air support to combat ISIS, many international leftists joined the fight against terrorism, aware of U.S. backing through air strikes that cleared the way for Kurdish ground operations. These leftists largely refrained from criticizing U.S. involvement or Kurdish cooperation. However, criticism emerged, particularly from Western Marxists and Trotskyists. During the ISIS siege of Kobane, for instance, many German Trotskyists condemned the Kurds for aligning with “imperialism” rather than solely blaming ISIS. A notable example was a Berlin demonstration where Christine Buchholz, a Left Party parliament member, displayed a poster reading “Free Kobane and Stop U.S. Bombing,” highlighting the left’s contradictory stance. Without U.S. air strikes, the Kurds likely faced massacre, yet some Marxists framed the bombings as targeting the “local population,” vaguely defined.
Later, as the left shifted its focus to the Israel–Palestine conflict, support for the Kurds waned, though criticism persisted. At a 2020 Rosa Luxemburg Foundation conference in Berlin, two leftists (one Palestinian, one Irish) accused Rojava’s Kurds of ethnically cleansing Arabs, echoing Erdoğan’s 2018 rhetoric during Turkey’s assault on Afrin. Turkey justified its invasion of the Kurdish city as a defense against “terrorism” (equating Kurds with terrorists) and to protect “natives.” Subsequent reports from international organizations confirmed that 98 percent of Afrin’s Kurdish population was ethnically cleansed, replaced by Syrian Arabs, refugees from Turkey, and Palestinian settlers.
Conclusion: Has American Intervention Failed?
The debate over the success or failure of American intervention has intensified with the recent Israel–Iran war and the United States’ eleventh-hour involvement, prompting global critics to label U.S. efforts as doomed, often citing Iraq and Afghanistan as prime examples. While Afghanistan’s complexities are beyond the scope of this discussion, Iraq’s case demands a more nuanced examination. The most significant shortfall of American intervention in Iraq was its failure to curb Iran’s expanding influence, which enabled a Shia-dominated central government in Baghdad to undermine Kurdish autonomy through unconstitutional budget cuts and to intensify oppression of the Sunni population. This marginalization of Sunnis inadvertently bolstered support for ISIS in their regions, leading to a brutal war against Kurdistan that crippled its economy and slowed the democratic reforms that had gained traction between 2005 and 2014. Iran’s fingerprints are evident in two destabilizing forces: its support for the Iraqi government’s anti-Kurdish policies and its backing of Shia paramilitary groups, which have relentlessly targeted Kurdish borders for over a decade, further eroding regional stability.
I want to briefly address Iraqi anti-Kurdish policies influenced by Iran. Iran has consistently sought to undermine Iraqi Kurdistan for various reasons, including its significant influence on Kurds in Iranian Kurdistan, which has heightened Kurdish national consciousness and frustrated Iran’s agenda. After 2005, Iraqi Kurdistan opened its borders to Kurds from Iranian Kurdistan, allowing workers, skilled professionals, and experts—many of whom were denied jobs in Iran due to their political views—to migrate. They were later joined by their families. With Iraqi Kurdistan’s stronger currency, these Kurds rebuilt their lives and brought back ideas of Kurdish identity and the potential for a progressive Kurdish state. This inspired greater political activism among Kurdish civil society in Iranian Kurdistan, leading to numerous uprisings, including the 2022 protests sparked by the death of Jina Amini at the hands of Iran’s morality police. Her funeral saw Kurds chanting revolutionary slogans, igniting widespread unrest across Iran.
Iran seeks to control Kurdistan’s oil and gas fields through Iraq’s central government for two main reasons: (1) to economically weaken Kurdistan, preventing it from forming independent international ties with Western companies and Israel; and (2) to secure more revenue from Iraq, which has consistently tried to strip Kurdistan of control over its oil and natural resources. The Iraqi constitution lacks clear legislation on oil industry dealmaking authority, which Iraqi politicians have exploited to foster oligarchy and empower Iran. However, this ambiguity has also allowed Kurdistan to assert control over its own oil in the long term. Under Iran’s influence, Iraq cut Kurdistan’s entire budget in 2014—a policy that persists, with additional cuts to state employee salaries in early 2025—demanding that Kurdistan surrender its oil industry to the central government to restore funding.
Yet to brand American intervention as an outright failure is a one-dimensional perspective that overlooks the broader picture. For Kurds in Iran, the Israel–Iran war, with U.S. involvement, has sparked hope as a potential second opportunity to advance their long-standing quest for self-determination. In Iraqi Kurdistan, American support, despite its limitations, laid the groundwork for a degree of autonomy and democratic governance unmatched elsewhere in the region. The Kurdish experience reveals a duality: while U.S. intervention fell short in countering Iranian influence and preventing conflict, it also opened doors for Kurdish resilience and political progress. Reducing this complex history to a narrative of failure ignores the aspirations and agency of Kurdish communities, who continue to seize emerging opportunities to build a more inclusive and self-governed future amid an ever-shifting geopolitical landscape.
The final point is that during the first Trump administration, Kurds in Rojava and southern Kurdistan (Iraq’s Kurdistan region) experienced significant anxiety over potential U.S. abandonment, particularly due to fears of a U.S. military withdrawal from Rojava. This fear intensified under the second Trump administration. While Donald Trump’s plans for Rojava remain unclear, the persistent uncertainty underscores the critical importance of the American presence for Kurdish survival and the developments previously mentioned. The Kurds in Iranian Kurdistan share similar aspirations for their future, seeking to unite politically, culturally, and intellectually with the other two regions.
Topics: Reflections & Dialogues • Israel Initiative
Peshraw Mohammed, born in southern Kurdistan (Kurdistan Regional Government in Iraq), based in Berlin, is a freelance author and translator specializing in German philosophy, antisemitism, and the cultural history of National Socialism. Since October 7, he has been writing regularly for German platforms and delivering speeches on antisemitism across various political spectra, including the right, the left, and Islamism. He is currently working on his forthcoming book, Genealogy of Demonization: The Interconnectedness of Antisemitism and Antikurdism (in English).



