Action, reaction. American forces raced for the Syria/Turkish border last week after Turkish warplanes bombed Kurdish fighters allied with Washington in the fight against the Islamic State. The move angered Ankara, which considers the Kurdish YPG to be a terrorist group, and placed Washington in the uncomfortable position of defending one non-state ally against a longtime NATO partner. It’s also put U.S. forces in the middle of a shooting war, in the role of a human buffer in armored vehicles. On Wednesday, a top aide to Turkish president Recep Tayyip Erdogan told a radio program that those troops aren’t safe: “we won’t be considering the fact that there are armored American vehicles…All of a sudden, by accident, a few rockets can hit them.” Strangeways. “The U.S. show of force is a very public reminder of American support for the Kurds, who make up a majority of the Syrian Democratic Forces, a 50,000-strong collection of local militias currently moving on the Islamic State stronghold of Raqqa,” FP’sPaul McLeary reports. U.S. military commanders have said repeatedly that the Kurds are the only viable military option to defeat ISIS on the ground in Syria. On his way. The threats come about two weeks before Erdogan is due in Washington to meet with president Trump. On Wednesday, the Turkish leader met with Russian President Vladimir Putin, where the two talked about creating “safe zones” in Syria for civilians. Russia pushed the idea at peace talks in Kazakhstan between the moderate Syrian opposition, the Syrian regime, Russia, Iran, and Turkey Wednesday, but representatives of the opposition walked out of the talks over continued Syrian government bombing of hospitals and civilian targets, and the role Iran is playing in the Syrian civil war. The opposition returned to the table Thursday, and the Russians hope to sign a memorandum calling for the safe zones by the end of the day. Damascus appears to be a fan of the idea, but U.S. defense officials say they are not planning to create any safe zones, or no-fly zones in Syria. Values here. In his second address to his department since taking up his new job, Secretary of State Rex Tillerson called on his staff to forget what they thought they knew and approach their jobs “with no constraints” on their thinking, writes FP’s Emily Tamkin. Tillerson did not address the expected budget cuts that could decimate plenty of departments, though he did implicitly promise organizational changes. Tillerson also said the days of Washington attempting to export its values -- and push for respect for human rights abroad -- are over. Insisting that potential partners uphold international norms only “creates obstacles to our ability to advance our national security interests, our economic interests,” he said. Pressure points. But the secretary did outline the White House’s North Korea policy more explicitly than any U.S. official has in the Trump administration. He said that the plan is to lean hard on China to lean harder on Pyongyang. “It’s a pressure campaign that has a knob on it,” he said. “We’re at dial setting five or six now.” Tillerson added that Washington would negotiate with North Korea “when conditions are right,” but there are conditions. “We are not going to negotiate our way to the negotiating table. That is what Pyongyang has done for the last 20 years, is cause us to have to negotiate to get them to sit down. We’ll sit down when they’re ready to sit down under the right terms.” Road rules. On Tuesday, members of the Senate Intelligence Committee boarded a bus to Langley, Virginia, as part of their probe into Russian election meddling. Many facets of the congressional probe into Russian election meddling are unusual, but these field trips are part of yet another “first” for the intelligence panel: access to raw intelligence, reportsFP’s Jenna McLaughlin. After “significant negotiations,” the chairman and vice chairman got access to “categories and types of intelligence documents that have never been provided to Congress before” — even beyond what the Gang of Eight has received in the past, one Senate staffer emailed. More on what they saw here. Over there. President Trump is due to travel to Brussels later this month for a critical NATO meeting, which will be the first time many alliance members will meet him in person. He’ll encounter an alliance that is changing, and while he will likely take credit for those changes, most of the reforms and new spending plans were in the works well before January 2017. “For NATO’s newest members, it is Russia, not Trump, that is motivating their spending,” writes FP’s Paul McLeary. Romania is one of the countries at the forefront of this new spending push, and the country’s ambassador to the United States recently pointed outto FP that “Crimea sits less than 200 miles from its shores, and Romania shares a long border with Serbia, which has moved closer to the Kremlin as it buys Russian warplanes and air defense systems. And when NATO opened a missile defense site in Romania last year, Russian President Vladimir Putin declared the country to be in Moscow’s ‘crosshairs.’” Best coast. The commandant of the U.S. Coast Guard issued a stark warning on Wednesday that Russia was leagues ahead of Washington in the Arctic. And while the warming Arctic opens up, the United States could be caught flat-footed while other geopolitical rivals swiftly step in, according to a new report by FP’s Robbie Gramer. Paul Zukunft, the coastie commandant, warned Moscow is building up a huge military and industrial presence in the region while the United States dawdled. Russia is showing “I’m here first, and everyone else, you’re going to be playing catch-up for a generation to catch up to me first,” said Zukunft in remarks before the Center for Strategic and International Studies. “They’ve made a strategic statement,” he said. Welcome to SitRep. Send any tips, thoughts or national security events to paul.mcleary@foreignpolicy.com or via Twitter: @paulmcleary or @arawnsley. The news today, oh boy. North Korea is extra grumpy with its neighbor to the north following signals from China that it's open to a tougher line on Pyongyang's antics. The flareup started with a war of words between both countries' state-run media. North Korea's KCNA warned China that the daily "absurd and reckless remarks" in Chinese state media calling for sanctions against North Korea could lead to "grave consequences" and advised that "the DPRK will never beg for the maintenance of friendship with China." Chinese foreign ministry spokesman Geng Shuang responded to the broadside by saying that Beijing is still interested in having "good neighborly and friendly cooperation" with the North. Ain't no party like a Balad party. Two former investigators for a private security company charged with protecting an Iraqi F-16 base say that company employees engaged in a booze-soaked campaign of corruption, theft, and human trafficking. The AP reports that Virginia-based contractor Sallyport fired investigators after they allegedly uncovered rampant misconduct by company employees at Balad Air Base, where the company had a $700 million contract to provide security. The investigators say employees charged with directing traffic on the tarmac at Balad regularly showed up to work drunk, popping Vodka-soaked gummy bears and smuggling in so much booze, and guns, that a plane carrying the illicit cargo tipped over. Investigators also allege that Balad was home to a prostitution ring patronized by Sallyport employees. Yemen. The United Arab Emirates (UAE) effort to piece together a national army in Yemen is faltering due to political divisions within Yemeni society, Reuters reports. UAE forces fighting as part of the Saudi-led coalition against the Houthi movement in Yemen have been trying to train up local forces to buttress the government of President Abd-Rabbu Mansour Hadi. But UAE troops tell the wire service that their Yemeni trainees are often unwilling to fight alongside troops from other parts of the country. One of the biggest rifts in the force is the hesitance of troops from southern Yemen, previously an independent country, to fight in the north. Missiles. Iran is trying to get its midget submarines to fire cruise missiles, according to Fox News. Anonymous sources tell the cable news outlet that Iran tried to fire a cruise missile from a Ghadir submarine, based on North Korea's Yono-class design, but the launch failed. The tiny subs are usually reserved for firing torpedoes and laying sea mines. Iran claimed to have successfully fired a missile from a submarine for the first time back in February but whether that claim pertains to a Ghadir cruise missile launch or another platform remains a mystery. Raider. Congressional appropriators tweaked the funding for the B-21 stealth bomber in the latest spending bill, shaving off $20 million for the program and attaching a handful of new oversight requirements, according to Defense News. The 2017 omnibus spending bill shelled out $1.338 billion for the B-21, down from $1.358 billion. Appropriators also called for an inspector general review of the program and clamped down on the Air Force's ability to transfer and reprogram funding without Congressional approval. Bonus. The Army wants to stand up a new brigade to improve the training of Iraqi and Afghan forces and so it's offering troops with training experience a $5,000 bonus to sign up for the new unit. The program is aimed at mid-career non-commissioned officers and hopes to address some of the problems caused by the piecemeal approach to training as parts of other units carry out training missions in Iraq and Afghanistan. ___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ (c) 2017 Foreigne Policy

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Executive Summary Six years into Syria’s civil war, the military and political map in the north has been dramatically redrawn. The most dynamic local actors, the political affiliates of the Iraq-based Kurdistan Workers’ Party (PKK) in Turkey – the People’s Protection Units (YPG) and Democratic Union Party (PYD) – control major portions of the Syria-Turkey border, have announced a federal region and established local rule. But YPG military success is hitting significant geopolitical and demographic barriers, placing the PKK before a stark choice: continue to subordinate its Syria project to its fight against Turkey or prioritise more Kurdish self-rule in Syria. Given recent regional realignments, the latter option is best: for the YPG-PYD to become what it professes to be: a Syrian Kurdish party ideologically linked to the PKK and its founder, Abdullah Öcalan (imprisoned in Turkey), but operationally detached. Turkey’s 25 April attacks on a YPG base reportedly hosting PKK members in northern Syria and a PKK base in northern Iraq augur dangerous escalation of its conflict. To avoid this, other actors, notably the U.S., should tailor their assistance to the YPG-PYD to promote that objective. After the PKK deployed cadres in Syria in July 2012, it cooperated with the West in fighting the Islamic State (ISIS), advancing westward from the majority-Kurdish districts of Jazeera and Kobani in north-eastern Syria to the majority-Kurdish district of Afrin north of Aleppo. By seeking to create this land bridge, the PKK and its affiliates had a dual objective: to control a contiguous militarised belt along the Syria-Turkey border and establish what they call democratic self-administration comprising both Kurdish and non-Kurdish communities. When the YPG, under the umbrella of the Syrian Democratic Forces (SDF), took the majority-Arab city of Manbij in August 2016, it appeared close to realising its strategic goals. Today, however, regional realignments are stymying the YPG-PYD ambitions and rendering the PKK’s twin objectives incompatible. Since mid-2015, after a Turkey-PKK ceasefire broke down, Ankara has worked to strangle the YPG-PYD-run region. Its rapprochement with Moscow enabled Turkish troops to enter Syria in August 2016 without fear of Russian or regime airstrikes (Operation “Euphrates Shield”). Fighting beside Syrian rebel allies, their aim was to defeat ISIS, but especially, to halt the YPG’s expansion west of the Euphrates. In February 2017, they succeeded, leaving the YPG surrounded and dependent on Damascus for movement between majority-Kurdish districts. Meanwhile, because the PKK views northern Syria essentially as a recruiting ground and potentially a launching pad for attacks in Turkey, with local governance not worth heavily investing in, those, especially in the YPG-PYD, willing to consider a Syrian solution have been unable to strike local roots or set up governing institutions with broad legitimacy. For the YPG’s self-rule project to survive, overcome the embargo on it and cease relying on the regime, it will need support from more powerful outside actors. Yet, finding a reliable protector will be challenging. The most capable candidates are Russia and the U.S.; the YPG has forged relations with both, but they may prove fickle friends. Moscow’s top priority remains the Assad regime’s survival and recovery of sovereignty. It also appears to prize rapprochement with Turkey. At this rate, the YPG-PYD may soon become a victim of a Russian change of heart. That leaves the U.S. The question is whether the YPG-PYD and PKK leadership are agile enough to correct course to help their Syrian self-rule project survive. If the former want the U.S. to give longer-term guarantees and commit against abandonment to Turkey, the Syrian regime or both, the PKK almost certainly must adjust to allow Washington to do so without imperilling its Turkish ties. The most effective means would be a return to a Turkey-PKK ceasefire and peace talks. But this does not appear realistic in the short term. Instead, while the U.S. still needs the YPG to fulfil its anti-ISIS objectives, the PKK should ask Washington to mediate a compromise with its Kurdish rivals in northern Syria and northern Iraq. As part of such a deal: the PKK and its affiliates would agree to withdraw from Sinjar just inside Iraq in exchange for the Iraqi Kurdish authorities fully opening the Syria-Iraq border to trade. While Sinjar does not directly relate to developments in northern Syria, the U.S. could help de-escalate a local conflict there between two groups with which it has close ties, the YPG and Masoud Barzani’s Kurdistan Democratic Party. This may not be sufficient to also de-escalate tensions in northern Syria, but it could be a critical first step that is relatively more doable; in northern Syria, the PKK would forego ambition to connect the two eastern majority-Kurdish districts with Afrin and allow the YPG-PYD to seek a Syrian solution for Syrian Kurds. This would entail diluting its political dominance by giving other Kurdish and non-Kurdish parties a viable local governance role, especially in budget management and appointing senior officials, and removing the YPG from governing responsibility. This could render the one-party YPG-PYD “democratic self-administration” less undemocratic; and the YPG should refrain from actively supporting PKK violence in Turkey, whether through arms supplies or providing personnel and tactical skills, and establish an SDF military operations room through which both YPG and non-YPG commanders can interact with the U.S. In return, the U.S. would: coordinate with, and give military aid and advice through, the SDF operations room to be established by the YPG; recruit and train local fighters exclusively through the SDF; give stabilisation support and reconstruction funds to local administrations in Jazeera and Kobani, provided the PYD makes its rule more inclusive, as stated above; and support the PYD’s bid to be included at the Geneva negotiations along with other Syrian Kurdish parties; and continue patrols in the YPG-PYD self-rule area east of the Euphrates instituted following the 25 April 2017 Turkish air strikes there, and commit to using influence with Ankara to prevent further Turkish attacks in that area. The latter entails exchanging assurances with Ankara that YPG-PYD rule in Syria is indeed being diluted as described. Jointly, these efforts could improve YPG-PYD chances to set up a workable governance structure and build alternative trade routes not dependent on Damascus; transform its military role from servicing the PKK’s anti-Turkey agenda to a legitimate effort to protect the northern Syrian populations in the absence of central-state control; gain some outside protection; and potentially help give the PYD a role in Syria peace talks and drafting of a new constitution. The U.S. should have a powerful interest in pursuing this: under the current trajectory, its efforts to defeat ISIS in Raqqa risk being complicated; the Turkey-PKK conflict could be pushed into new theatres, with risks to wider regional stability; and the U.S.-Turkey partnership could be compromised. As long as the PKK requires its offshoots to prioritise fighting Turkey, it stands to lose much if not all that the YPG has gained in northern Syria. If it allows its local affiliates to strike roots in Syria in a way both acceptable and meaningful to the diverse population, it has some hope, however narrow, of turning a new page. Ankara/Qamishli/Brussels, 4 May 2017 I.Introduction In an apparent deal negotiated between the Kurdistan Workers’ Party (Partiya Karkerên Kurdistanê, PKK) and Iran in 2011, Syria, preoccupied with fighting off a well-armed insurgent challenge, partially retreated from Kurdish-populated areas in July 2012. This allowed the PKK to send its fighters from its Qandil stronghold in northern Iraq into northern Syria, thus improving its strategic position while suffering heavy losses fighting the Turkish army inside Turkey. By opening a second front, it was able to apply new military and political pressure on Ankara through its Syrian affiliates, the Democratic Union Party (Partiya Yekîtiya Demokrat, PYD) and its military wing, the People’s Protection Units (Yekîneyên Parastina Gel‎, YPG), while pursuing an old ambition to connect the region’s three non-contiguous majority-Kurdish districts of Jazeera, Kobani and Afrin. In 2013, as the PKK and Turkey agreed a ceasefire and began political talks, the YPG-PYD set up a “democratic self-administration” there, calling it Rojava (“Western Kurdistan”). The rise of the Islamic State in Iraq and Syria (ISIS) in towns along the Euphrates Valley, immediately adjacent to and in one case bisecting Kurdish areas, and the effort by a new U.S.-led coalition to defeat ISIS gave the YPG-PYD a chance to extend its territorial reach east and west of the river and create a contiguous entity. By the first half of 2015, the YPG had connected Jazeera and Kobani districts across Arab-inhabited areas, including the border town of Tel Abyad. Benefitting from U.S. air support, it then pushed west toward, and eventually across, the Euphrates into areas where ISIS was ensconced. By August 2016, YPG flags flew along most of Syria’s northern border with Turkey except for a nearly 100km stretch that remained under either Syrian anti-regime rebel or ISIS control. The impact of the PKK’s Syria adventure exceeded its expectations. Military success put further pressure on Turkey and enabled the YPG-PYD to build out its autonomy scheme. In March 2016, it announced a “Democratic Federation of Northern Syria” that incorporated local communities – Kurds, Arabs and smaller minorities – in a large contiguous swathe of parts of Hasaka, Raqqa and Aleppo governorates, as well as Afrin, which the group controlled but could not attach to its other territory. The group’s numbers also increased. As it advanced into Arab areas, it began recruiting local men whom it placed under the umbrella of a group it called the Syrian Democratic Forces (SDF), which it established in October 2015 and commanded. At this point, questions about PKK priorities, objectives and structure, which had simmered since its foundation, resurfaced. Should it continue to focus on Turkey? Or should it permit its Syrian affiliates to set their own priorities autonomously and forge a primarily Syrian solution to the Kurdish question there? This report, Crisis Group’s fourth on the Kurds in northern Syria, argues that Turkey-focused PKK-trained commanders have inclined the YPG less toward a Syrian solution to the Kurdish question in Syria and more to the PKK’s struggle against the Turkish state. This makes YPG-PYD self-rule in northern Syria, under whatever name, more precarious and PKK-dependent. PKK-ordered military moves alienate the YPG-PYD from Kurdish society it wants to govern by militarising youth and antagonising the educated middle class and non-Kurdish groups it controls. This reduces its prospects for broader legitimacy. Moreover, the more the YPG-PYD acts as an outgrowth of the PKK and its strategy, the more it will provoke regional players and prompt attempts to throttle its self-administration. II.Inside the PKK’s Syria Adventure A.Competing Priorities The conflict in Syria revived an old PKK dilemma. Established as an underground leftist party in 1978, the PKK saw Turkey – the country with the largest Kurdish population and its birthplace – as the primary arena for carrying out its agenda through military struggle. Its objective was not Kurdish autonomy but Marxist-inspired social reform in which it called on Kurds and non-Kurds to participate. In 2003, possibly in response to the U.S. Iraq invasion and Iraqi Kurds’ ascendency, it announced it was changing its objectives from a military struggle against Turkey to Kurdish self-determination in the four main countries with Kurdish populations. To this end, it created branches in each of these neighbours. This shift produced two complementary goals. PKK-affiliated branches outside Turkey began laying the foundations for local Kurdish self-rule, inspired by theories of “democratic self-administration” introduced by Abdullah Öcalan, the PKK’s founder. This allowed the group to operate across the region, using its presence in each Kurdish community as a resource for its paramount insurgency in Turkey. Regional branches were not autonomous. Decision-making and appointments to branch leadership remained in PKK hands via a new organ, the Union of Kurdish Communities (Koma Civakên Kurdistan, KCK), whose executive council (its highest decision-making organ) comprised only PKK-trained military cadres and served as the spearhead of the party’s activities in Turkey, Syria, Iran and Iraq. This inherent strategic tension persisted in internal PKK debate from 2003 onward and sprang to the surface following the 2011 Syrian uprising and outbreak of civil war. The movement took advantage of regional polarisation between the Syrian regime’s backers and foes and renewed Ankara-Damascus tensions to harness its Syrian affiliates to a new strategy attuned to the evolving situation. Though no hard evidence has surfaced of a deal, at least three events suggest the PKK realigned itself with the Syrian regime and its external backers, most importantly Iran, against Turkey. In September 2011, the PKK’s Iranian offshoot, the Kurdish Free Life Party (Partiya Jiyana Azad a Kurdistanê, PJAK), implemented a unilateral ceasefire after years of battle that largely remains in place except for occasional skirmishes. In July 2012, regime security forces withdrew unilaterally from Kurdish areas, allowing YPG fighters to take over positions and border posts. And in mid-2013, the KCK’s executive council experienced a major reshuffle that favoured those who posit the political-military struggle in Turkey as a precondition for solving the Kurdish issue in neighbouring countries.Yet, the swift YPG-PYD territorial gains and proclamation of Rojava self-rule revived the internal debate. A senior PKK cadre and PYD founding member operating in Syria said: Ideologically, we all refer to Öcalan, but the PYD’s priorities differ from the PKK’s: the PYD seeks to implement Öcalan’s thoughts in Syria. This requires us to avoid clashing with Turkey. We may organise a demonstration in solidarity with Kurds in Diyarbakır, but we don’t want to be part of the fight. Cemil Bayık, the KCK co-chair, champions a different view: It is wrong not to mention Turkey when we speak about Syria, Iran and Iraq. Turkey is behind the crisis in those two countries. If you can’t fix the Kurdish issue in Turkey first, you can’t resolve it there either. Since its creation, the YPG-PYD’s Rojava project had an ethnic overtone, which contrasted yet coexisted with the dominant view within the PKK. That view backed local self-rule experiments as long as they bolstered the overall objective of fighting Turkey, not if they turned into full-fledged Kurdish autonomy projects that could pave the way to statehood on the nation-state model. The PKK’s ideological approach was non-ethnic, at least in name. It proposed an alternative to Western democracy, calling on Kurds and non-Kurds to rule themselves locally around shared principles of gender equality and ecologic awareness. Cemil Bayık explained: The nation-state idea is not helpful in resolving the current crisis [in the Middle East]. You must concentrate on basic rights. One of the main reasons for conflict in the region is that when one ethnic group defeats another ethnic group, it tries to rule over it. A PYD leader in Syria offered a contrary view: Those who think that a society can exist without a state can keep on dreaming. We have to deal with the reality of the international system, which consists of states with borders. We should focus on getting Kurds recognised as an integral component of Syrian society whose rights are protected. It doesn’t matter whether we do this via cantons or a federal region or whatever. I don’t look at Iraqi Kurdistan as a positive example, but … we should not be pursuing utopia. These contrasting views reflect neither rigid fault lines nor competing factions within the PKK, whose military hierarchy keeps decision-making centralised and prevents factionalism and splits. Yet, outside developments have affected internal debates, empowering or disempowering different perspectives and reshuffling priorities without precipitating loss of unity. For instance, because they spent their formative years fighting Turkey in the 1990s, most senior PYD and YPG cadres, regardless of citizenship, have long considered Turkey the primary theatre in which to implement the ideological project, possibly as a precondition for success with Kurdish communities elsewhere. But because the Syrian war has allowed the YPG-PYD to grow, including through promotion of junior commanders, a tendency has emerged that appears to prioritise Kurdish self-determination in Syria over the fight against Turkey, a tendency Turkey-oriented PKK leaders have tried to suppress by appointing trusted senior cadres who follow the Turkey-focused line. While the two visions could coexist and were even mutually reinforcing at first – while the YPG-PYD worked to build Rojava, the PKK used YPG-PYD progress to put pressure on Turkey – more recent developments present PKK leaders with a choice they may soon have to make: to devolve power to the party’s Syrian branches and allow them to refocus on Kurdish self-rule in Syria, or continue to use Syria as a springboard for guerrilla war against Turkey. Rojava security checkpoint. CRISIS GROUP/Joost Hiltermann B.The Critical Role of PKK-trained Cadres in Northern Syria The PKK and its Syrian affiliates are linked by the history of the latter’s creation and the profile of the military cadres they share. After three decades of guerrilla war, the PKK had a large force of fighters from the four parts of the Kurdish realm: Turkey, Iran, Iraq and Syria. They received basic training in PKK military camps and ideological academies in Qandil, the movement’s base since the 1990s, and spent their formative years fighting Turkey. A Syrian founding member of the first PKK cell recounted: During the first years …, in the 1980s, the PKK counted just 54 Syrian nationals among its 256 members. At that time, we were little more than a circle of intellectuals with Marxist sympathies. In the 1990s, when the war with Turkey began, the PKK shifted from being an elite movement to a guerrilla organisation. At that point, many Syrians joined, especially after Öcalan was captured [in 1998]. Many were very young and had not finished their studies. They received military and ideological training and were sent to fight the Turkish army. In 2003, the PKK established organisations with civilian goals in Syria, such as the PYD, Union Star (Yekiti Star) for women’s rights, and Revolutionary Youth (Ciwanen Soresger), groups ideologically inspired by the imprisoned Öcalan. While these had members or even nominal leaders with little or no link to Qandil, only PKK-trained fighters held decision-making powers. This allowed the PKK to create a base of Syrian sympathisers and recruit fighters for its struggle in Turkey. A PKK founder recounted the creation of its Syrian branches: When the PYD was established, we didn’t have the choice between staying with the PKK in Qandil or joining the PYD in Syria. Some of us were Syrians, others not. As PKK fighters, we were united in a [Kurdish] nation [watan]; our designations as Syrian, Turkish, Iranian or Iraqi citizens were externally imposed. Despite these regional entities’ claim to be linked to the PKK only ideologically, not organisationally, those with key military and institutional responsibilities used to be PKK fighters in Turkey.Regional branches may have had their own identity and leaders, a distinct name and members who did not receive training in Qandil, and may have enjoyed some decision-making autonomy in recruitment, establishment of local offices, dealing with local authorities and coordinating military operations and militant activities. Yet, strategic decision-making remained the exclusive domain of fighters schooled in the Qandil-based institutions. For example, in 2010, Aldar Khalil, a PYD official who had been a PKK commander in Qandil, had greater decision powers than Salih Muslim, the PYD co-chair, who was a local Öcalan sympathiser from a pro-PKK family but had not received military training in Qandil. YPG fighters who arrived in Syria in July 2012 were Syrian nationals who had joined and been trained by the PKK in Qandil in the 1990s and fought in Turkey during the war’s height. During the 2000s, many operated underground or under civilian cover in northern Syria. PKK Syrian commanders took leadership posts in the YPG, PYD, People’s Council of Western Kurdistan (PCWK) and Movement for a Democratic Society (Tevgera Civaka Demokratîk, TEV DEM), PYD umbrella groups established in 2012. Boundaries between these Öcalan-inspired bodies are blurred; commanders continuously switch posts in and among them. Territorial expansion into non-Kurdish areas induced the YPG-PYD in March 2016, to convert the Rojava self-administration into a northern Syria federal region to accommodate the ethnically and religiously diverse population. While this new administration co-opted local figures, PKK military cadres dressed in civilian clothes took key positions, including in the presidential committee. C.The PKK’s Domestication in Syria The Syria experience forced the PKK to nurture a new generation of Öcalan sympathisers who had no other prior PKK connection. At the same time, it strengthened the PKK’s grip on its Syrian branches. Because Syrian Kurdish PKK-trained cadres arriving in 2012 were relative outsiders to a local community with its own political parties, they had to work hard to gain acceptance and contain dissent. When Öcalan formed the PKK in the late 1970s, well-established parties dominated the Syrian Kurdish political scene. Set up in the 1950s, they were led by an alliance of Kurdish landowners (aghas) and urban professionals who monopolised the movement by mediating between the Kurdish urban middle class and regime, while the latter used them to contain Kurds’ political aspirations. Öcalan’s Marxism resonated especially with Kurdish students from smaller towns who contested the urban and landed elites’ dominance but lacked strength to challenge it effectively. The PKK was particularly successful in recruiting from this underclass, and did not set up political organs, sending the youths directly to Qandil for training. This remained unchanged even after the PKK established the PYD and kindred organisations in 2003. Working clandestinely in a highly restrictive security environment, the new party could not mobilise support beyond the circle of families who had long been PKK sympathisers, challenge established parties among the urban professional class or channel the younger generation’s growing discontent with traditional leaders. This meant that when the 2011 Syrian uprising spread to Kurdish areas, the PYD was just one more urban Kurdish party whose radical ideology and military objectives barely resonated. A PKK founding member observed: At the start of the uprising, there were a lot of youth organisations [in northern Syria], many of which didn’t like the PKK. We didn’t know how to handle all that youthful energy. We couldn’t tell them: “Come and fight Turkey with us”. They had no interest in Turkey. Operating anew in the Syrian context, the PKK had to adapt pragmatically in the face of strict party rules. PKK-trained cadres disavowed any direct organisational link with the PKK, stating that they saw recognition of Kurdish rights in Syria as their primary objective. A former PKK member recounted: When the [PKK-trained] military cadres arrived, the big problem they faced was to manage the street. There were a lot of people coming from the mountain [Qandil]. We were under pressure: the street was intent on gaining Kurdish rights, and the other Kurdish parties were accusing us of operating … with a Turkey-centric agenda. So we decided to set up a self-administration and promote that as the foundation for future recognition of Kurdish rights. PKK-trained cadres also realised that military rule, justified as protection, would not neutralise dissent, disempower traditional local elites and promote new ones to run local institutions. The PKK had sufficient military commanders to impose security but insufficient cadres with the know-how to administer the self-rule area. Political differences with pre-existing Kurdish parties hindered recruitment of middle-class professionals. The YPG-PYD thus had to recruit locals unaffiliated with the PKK and promote them as an alternative elite. Some were Öcalan sympathisers, but others were notables who had been affiliated with other Kurdish parties and saw in the self-rule experiment an unprecedented opportunity for social climbing. Likewise, some previously disenfranchised Arab and minority leaders joined the self-administration to compete more effectively with their own communities’ established leadership. Lack of experienced administrators has undermined the PYD’s ability to establish effective governing institutions and gain legitimacy. The administration was clumsy, issuing regulations on compulsory military service and curriculum reform that antagonised people. Newly empowered elites gained access to privileges and were able to quickly amass wealth, angering the established middle class. On the military side, the speed of the YPG’s territorial conquests compelled it to start recruiting from the local Kurdish population to control these areas. It established local training centres and military academies that churned out fresh Syrian Kurdish recruits as commanders. It loosened strict PKK recruitment criteria and offered a diluted version of political principles deriving from Öcalan’s thoughts. Facing growing manpower shortages and having extended its military reach to mixed and predominantly Arab areas, the YPG also had to start a massive recruitment drive among non-Kurds, placing them under the SDF umbrella. In February 2017, a PYD official recounted preparations for the Raqqa campaign: For the Raqqa assault, we began recruiting [Arab] fighters, providing six months of military training to some, three to others, and only one month to again others. We also try to instil a general political perspective of Öcalan’s thoughts. When the conflict ends, those who want to become cadres can take the full curriculum at our ideological academies. Thus, two new groups emerged in northern Syria: PKK sympathisers with no militant background, and YPG and SDF recruits who are anti-ISIS rather than pro-PKK. Yet, PKK-trained cadres remained in charge, establishing top-down rule that prevented local commanders and fighters from pursuing a Syrian instead of a Turkey-focused option, including by consolidating civil administration. D.Ruling from Behind YPG-PYD decision-making is secretive, limited to a few of PKK-trained cadres appointed by the KCK and closed-door meetings. They decide the administration budget, appointment of front-line and regional commanders, distribution of military supplies and coordination with the U.S. military. Technocrats, mostly Öcalan sympathisers without PKK militant background, nominally run the self-rule area’s formal institutions. PKK-trained cadres in lower-ranking posts hold the real power. The PKK has woven a web of PKK-trained cadres who infiltrated formal institutions and function as a shadow command chain. Thus, the head of Jazeera’s energy commission oversees refining of oil from the Rumeilan field into diesel fuel and gasoline, but a PKK-trained cadre decides distribution, prices and revenue collection. YPG-PYD security police (Asayesh) sign off on many administrative decisions. A lawyer in the Jazeera district sub-administration’s judiciary commission said he could not issue an arrest warrant “without first consulting with the Asayesh, while they can detain anyone without a judicial warrant”. PKK-trained cadres issue orders across the network of regional commanders. Assignments depend on a location’s strategic importance. The YPG puts its most senior, experienced, trusted commanders along the ISIS front and younger commanders who joined the PKK in the late 1990s in the Kurdish hinterland. The latter, many without university degree, unlike the PKK’s “ideological generation”, have found the war a way to rise through the ranks. They appoint squadron and platoon commanders, coordinate with other regional commanders and redistribute military supplies in the areas under their responsibility. Squadron and platoon commanders, who mostly joined the YPG after its 2012 creation and were trained in its military and ideological academies, are often placed in administrative rather than strategic or other decision-making posts. They have little chance to advance, as the ideological academies that offer promotion prospects require long-term commitment to the PKK’s struggle, directly under PKK control in Qandil. With the battle against ISIS raging, the PKK faces a pressing need for experienced commanders. Unwilling to empower regional commanders or capable locally-recruited squadron or platoon commanders, it has started to send growing numbers of its Qandil-based cadres to northern Syria, including Kurds from Turkey and Iran. This allows it to enforce strict command and control, as well as ideological unity, but not to gain local legitimacy. III.A Military-driven Approach A.Complementary Objectives, Different Priorities In September 2014, after ISIS seized the Kurdish town of Kobani on the Turkish border, the U.S. partnered with the YPG to drive it out, providing air cover and weapons delivered indirectly via Iraqi Kurdish peshmerga who entered from northern Iraq via Turkey as part of a deal negotiated with Turkey. The U.S.-YPG military relationship continued, as Washington began pressing ISIS in its strongholds. After Kobani, the YPG, backed by the U.S.-led Western coalition, wrested other towns from the group’s control, gradually expanding its reach across a swathe of northern Syria highly diverse in population that extends along nearly the entire length of the Turkish border and successfully connecting Jazeera and Kobani districts. The anti-ISIS campaign drew the YPG beyond majority-Kurdish areas into adjacent majority-Arab ones. The YPG-PYD cadres saw in this an opportunity to leverage the group’s military strength to make territorial gains with U.S. support that would connect Jazeera/Kobani with Afrin, establish a federal region recognised by the international community and enhance their bargaining power in negotiations over Syria’s future. For those cadres prioritising the conflict against Turkey, however, an additional goal was clear: utilising U.S. support to press Turkey militarily and isolate it politically by persuading the U.S. to choose the Kurds’ side over time. But those divergent priorities mattered little in the short term, since both favoured a military-focused strategy that would give the YPG-PYD new leverage by establishing facts on the ground. Aldar Khalil, a PKK-trained cadre, said: In Iraq, the Kurdish parties tried to assert control by building a political alliance with the U.S., but this did not work for them, because it did not allow them to annex all the disputed territories [the Kurds claim, such as Kirkuk]. This is why we have to put facts on the ground militarily and use our military power to get what we want politically. The more territory the YPG has seized, the more the PKK has appointed trusted Qandil-trained cadres, including Kurds from Turkey and Iran, in sensitive locations, and the more closely the YPG-PYD has remained tied to the PKK and its conflict with Turkey. B.The Unintended Consequences of Military Assistance In the YPG, the U.S. found an efficient and reliable anti-ISIS military partner, first demonstrated in the September 2014 Kobani battle, which obviated the need to deploy U.S. troops. Since then, Washington has indirectly channelled arms to the YPG without giving it political support to avoid further angering Turkey, its NATO partner. The U.S. has performed a semantic dance to pre-empt accusations by Turkey or domestic critics that it is supporting the PKK, an organisation on its terrorism list. The Obama administration claimed that the YPG and PKK were not the same organisation and channelled arms to the YPG indirectly via Iraqi Kurds in Kobani and, after October 2015, via the newly established SDF. The SDF is nominally a mixed Syrian force, but in reality both non-PKK-trained and non-Kurdish commanders have no authority, while the YPG is in overall command and controls military supply. Yet, semantic sleight-of-hand has not rescued the U.S. from the obvious fact, acknowledged by leaders of both PKK and YPG-PYD, that the latter is the former’s Syrian affiliate, fully integrated within its chain of command. U.S. State Department officials assert that the U.S. can provide weapons only through the SDF. Meanwhile, the military cooperates directly with the YPG, fuelling its hopes of diplomatic recognition for the federal region. Because the U.S. can channel support to the YPG only by accepting its hierarchy, it reinforces the PKK-imposed chain of command that favours PKK-trained cadres over local Syrian commanders for strategic posts. External military aid thus has had a somewhat paradoxical effect. It allows the PKK to consolidate absolute control while, by enabling the YPG-PYD territorial expansion that necessitated massive local recruitment, forcing it to relax its internal rules and ideological purity in order to attract new fighters. The Syria-focused YPG-PYD cadres have been disappointed in their expectation to strengthen diplomatic ties with the U.S. or be included in Syria peace talks. Interactions with Washington have been largely informal. In January and September 2016, Brett McGurk, the U.S. special presidential envoy for the anti-ISIS coalition, twice visited YPG-controlled areas, Rumeilan and Kobani respectively, was filmed with YPG-PYD and SDF commanders but did not discuss the issue foremost on the group’s mind: U.S. protection and recognition of the self-rule area. Nor has the YPG-PYD realised its ambition to connect Kobani with Afrin, and the window may be closing. In February 2016, the YPG received U.S. military support to defeat ISIS in Sheddadi, an Arab town between Hasaka and Deir al-Zour with no strategic importance for the group. It also received U.S. backing (through the SDF) to take Manbij from ISIS, west of the Euphrates, but Washington had told it that it would have to leave the town in charge of the SDF once the situation was stabilised. Precisely to thwart the YPG-PYD ambition, Turkey led, with U.S. support, the November assault on ISIS in Al-Bab, a town whose control would allow creation of a land bridge to Afrin. A U.S. official said: There is a problem of expectations [with the YPG]. We are not going to give up our relationship with Turkey. We have been clear with them from the beginning: we will not help you to take Al-Bab, and we cannot prevent either Turkey or the regime from taking it. The U.S. has also refrained from providing economic support to YPG-PYD areas, not wishing to fuel Kurdish separatist aspirations and further upset Turkey. Moreover, the local administration’s domination by PKK-trained cadres has discouraged Western states from giving it stabilisation funds, lest that would bolster the PKK in Turkey more than foster reconstruction in Syria. U.S. military support has unintentionally bolstered the thinking of those who favour continued struggle with Turkey over those willing to contemplate a political settlement for the Kurds in Syria. Since that support has been channelled through the Qandil-appointed commanders, it has further empowered those commanders over locally-recruited ones and made them even less accountable to the local population and local administrators more dependent on PKK-trained cadres. This has prevented a truly civilian-led administration from emerging in northern Syria. It also has permitted the PKK to strengthen its authority over the Kurdish movement in Syria, tie the Kurdish question in Syria and Turkey more closely together and hitch the YPG-PYD self-rule project to the wagon of the PKK’s fight with Turkey. The result has been a vicious circle: as long as PKK-trained cadres control Kurdish and non-Kurdish lands, the YPG-PYD will be denied reconstruction funds, and the absence of reconstruction will increase local hostility to its rule and thus further empower the more military/security oriented PKK-trained cadres. Over time, however, changing regional alignments and growing numbers of locally recruited Syrians may encourage a degree of autonomous YPG-PYD decision-making and allow a shift toward those who favour a Syrian solution to the Kurdish question in Syria. C.More Land, More Challenges The YPG-PYD’s successful strategy of establishing facts on the ground is beginning to show diminishing returns and could become self-defeating. Territorial expansion is limiting its ability to establish sustainable self-rule, under whatever name. Its expansion also has antagonised the self-rule area’s neighbours, prompting a near-total embargo: Turkey to its north, the KRG (the Iraqi Kurdistan Regional Government) to its east and ISIS and the regime to its south and west, forcing the YPG-PYD to resort to smuggling in all directions. It also compelled the YPG to redirect financial and military resources to new ISIS fronts at the expense of maintaining security and improving services. This has generated discontent among Syrian Kurds, who accuse the YPG of recruiting its youth and diverting resources toward Arab-populated front-line areas while keeping Kurdish areas impoverished. The group had to confront this reality when its fighters seized Tel Abyad, a predominantly Arab town on the Turkish border, from ISIS in May 2015. Suleyman Khalaf, Jazeera’s energy commission chief, explained: In 2013, we had to provide electricity to the population of Jazeera canton only. A year later, we also had to provide electricity to Kobani canton, and now even to Arab villages around Tel Abyad – all this while our administration is under a total embargo, and we cannot easily trade or sell our Rumeilan oil. As in Kurdish areas, PYD-led local administrations in non-Kurdish areas are designed to control the population by co-opting it. In some Arab areas, such as Tel Abyad, the YPG-PYD is discovering that middle-class professionals are even more reluctant than their Kurdish counterparts to join an administration dominated by PKK-trained military commanders. Part of the reason is that the YPG has co-opted tribal members previously excluded (by the Syrian regime) from leadership positions and appointed them to local administrative posts with only nominal authority, but they are not automatically accepted by local Arab society. When, in August 2016, the YPG-SDF took Manbij, which had been under successive Syrian anti-regime rebel and ISIS control, it put in charge tribal leaders excluded by the rebels, who instead had empowered urban notables with Islamist leanings. In Syria, the tribes’ domain is mainly outside urban centres; the imposition of tribal leaders in towns taken from ISIS could, therefore, be expected to cause frictions. Whether in Manbij or Tel Abyad, the underlying problem remains that PKK-trained cadres retain overall control. Kurdish-Arab relations are shaped by Arab recruits’ dependence on YPG commanders who rule their areas without effective civilian oversight. These commanders are in charge of military logistics, providing the most powerful weapons to YPG fighters while delegating to Arab SDF fighters the secondary role of maintaining local security. Local officials working for the administration are tasked with day-to-day management, such as aid redistribution, local security and setting the price of bread, etc. Thus, more by default than design, the U.S. has amplified the problems emanating from the YPG’s PKK link and, due to its singular focus on defeating ISIS, encouraged the YPG’s territorial expansion. This is now pulling the Turkey-PKK conflict into Syria and, possibly, pushing the fragile YPG-PYD administration back under Damascus’s wing. IV.An Escalating PKK-Turkey Conflict in Northern Syria A.The PKK-Turkey Conflict Spills into Syria In early 2013, Ankara froze its conflict with the PKK in Turkey, agreeing to a ceasefire and reviving peace talks. During the two-year peace process with the PKK that followed, Turkey tolerated the rise of the YPG-PYD in northern Syria and invited PYD leader Salih Muslim to Ankara for discussions. In parallel, it opened up political space to Kurds in Turkey, perhaps calculating that the participation of the pro-Kurdish People’s Democratic Party (Halkların Demokratik Partisi, HDP), in parliament would disempower and de-legitimise the PKK military leadership in both Turkey and Syria. Turkish security officials acknowledged a potential divergence between the PKK’s hard-core leadership in Qandil and younger cadres, especially among the YPG-PYD in Syria, but warned that a breakdown in peace talks would disempower the latter. However, internal developments in Turkey compounded by the YPG’s fast-paced military expansion challenged this pragmatism and helped precipitate a return to open conflict. During the ISIS siege of Kobani, Turkey, after prolonged refusal, agreed to let the YPG’s campaign to free the town proceed once a fig-leaf solution was found: the U.S. brought peshmerga fighters, mainly belonging to Turkey’s Iraqi Kurdish partner, Masoud Barzani’s Kurdistan Democratic Party (KDP), to Kobani and channelled weapons to the YPG through them. But continuous U.S.-backed YPG advances alarmed Ankara, which could not countenance a PKK affiliate seizing areas along its Syrian border or the emergence of a YPG-PYD-run federal region in northern Syria that it saw as part of the PKK’s anti-Turkey strategy. In the aftermath of the peace talks’ collapse in April 2015 and Turkey’s inconclusive parliamentary elections two months later, President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan’s ruling Justice and Development Party (Adalet ve Kalkınma Partisi, AKP) and the PKK seemingly shared an interest in ending the ceasefire. Having lost its majority in a major rebuff, the AKP abandoned its pragmatic approach to the conflict with the PKK and launched a new confrontation to shore up support among Turkish nationalist constituents. In turn, the PKK thought it could, and perhaps should, return to fighting, as it did not trust Erdoğan’s motives in pursuing talks, saw the process beginning to crumble, feared the political rise of the HDP potentially at its expense and believed it could capitalise on its Syrian affiliate’s success. Relations between the two started to deteriorate at the time of the Kobani siege and nosedived in July 2015 following an attack in Suruç that killed more than 30 pro-Kurdish activists. Though ISIS claimed responsibility, the PKK blamed the AKP-led government for failing to provide security. In September 2015, as both sides undermined negotiations by building up forces in the south east, the increasingly fragile truce crumbled, giving way to a new and furious round of conflict. The PKK’s losses in that fight did little to discourage it from doubling down on the YPG’s territorial push in Syria. In taking Tel Abyad in July 2015, the YPG gained control of a contiguous stretch of territory bordering Turkey from Malikiya to Kobani. That December, it crossed the Euphrates, seizing the Tishreen dam. In February 2016, it took Tel Rifaat, north of Aleppo, with the help of Russian air cover. In May, the YPG-SDF made another thrust and in August took the predominantly Arab town of Manbij from ISIS. In response, Turkey sent its military across the border in Operation Euphrates Shield. While Ankara publicly stated it aimed to expel ISIS from Jarablus – and indeed succeeded in doing so – it also, and mainly, wanted to prevent the YPG from taking additional territory between Jarablus and Azaz, thus to block its route to Afrin. Turkish forces subsequently moved south toward IS-held Al-Bab, on which the YPG had also set its eyes, and declared that following victory there their next step would be to retake Manbij from the YPG-SDF. By early 2017, the furious conflict between the Turkish military and the PKK in Turkey’s south east threatened to spill over into Syria in the form of a proxy conflict opposing Turkey-backed Syrian rebels and the YPG’s Syrian PKK-trained commanders. Turkey’s military intervention strengthened the narrative of the PKK Turkey-focused cadres. A PKK-trained cadre of Syrian origin asked: “If Turkey invades Syria, why shouldn’t Kurds from Turkey come to help us?” B.Facing a Fateful Choice Six years after the start of the Syrian conflict, the regional and global alignment that allowed the YPG-PYD to thrive is changing. Having failed to obtain local or external support for its self-rule project, it finds itself besieged, without allies it can rely upon to protect it and dangerously exposed. As a result, the PKK has come to a crossroads: it must choose between continuing to hitch the Syrian self-rule project it so successfully established to the wagon of its ongoing fight against Turkey or giving it the chance to develop and thrive with its own Syria-driven logic. These have become competing objectives in Syria’s rapidly evolving terrain. With the gradual deterioration of the U.S.-Turkish relationship in 2016, Russia and Turkey started pursuing a rapprochement. Determined to block the YPG, Ankara apparently struck a deal with Moscow in late 2016, standing back as the regime retook rebel-held eastern Aleppo in exchange for gaining a free hand in taking Al-Bab from ISIS. Russia thus seemed to de-prioritise its relationship with the PYD in favour of Turkey and put itself in a stronger position to shape an eventual political solution in Syria. While it has courted the PYD and allied parties inside the country by organising meetings with them, it was unable or unwilling to override a Turkish veto of PYD participation in January 2017 peace talks in Kazakhstan. Because the U.S. relationship with the YPG involves strictly the anti-ISIS fight, the group can only marginally count on U.S. protection from a Turkish attack. Washington embedded special forces with both the Turkish army and the SDF in northern Syria for the fight against ISIS, but also to prevent a confrontation between the two; and it accepted Turkey’s drive on Al-Bab that prevented the YPG from moving westward. Whatever U.S. protection the YPG has enjoyed is likely to end the moment the battle with ISIS ends. At that point, it arguably will become far more a liability than an asset for Washington, unless the Trump administration decides to maintain a longer-term military foothold in northern Syria. After Turkey took Al-Bab at the end of February 2017, Syrian and Syrian-allied forces pushed northward from Aleppo to the east of Al-Bab, taking pockets of ISIS territory and proceeding toward Manbij. In March, Russia brokered a deal between the YPG and the regime under which the YPG-SDF allowed 200 Syrian border guards to be stationed in eight villages west of Manbij, established the SDF-run “Al-Bab military council” to control the area and raised the Syrian flag. This created a buffer between the YPG and Turkish forces that satisfied neither party but served Russia’s aim of limiting the scope of Turkey’s Syria incursion while giving Damascus a role north of Aleppo. Because this opened the way for YPG fighters and civilians to move from Kobani to Afrin indirectly, via regime-controlled areas, it suggested the YPG-PYD had partially achieved its land bridge – but only with Damascus’s tolerance. The PKK now must decide how to proceed. It vacillates between seeing the Syrian theatre as a springboard for its struggle against Turkey and viewing YPG-PYD gains as the foundation for realising Öcalan’s ideas in Syria separate from that conflict. PKK-trained cadres may go back and forth between these preferences or remain undecided, continuing in default mode. Two, now senior officials in Syria, voiced opposing positions. One, reflecting the prevailing PKK view, said: The Kurdish question in Syria and Turkey cannot be delinked. We will not repeat the mistake of Iraqi Kurdistan. Even if Syrian Kurds gain a political status in Syria, this won’t last if the Kurds in Turkey don’t succeed …. As long as there is no change in Turkey’s policy toward Kurds there, it won’t change its policy toward Kurds in Rojava either. Turkey haunts the Kurds wherever they live. Thus, he said, the PKK had no choice but to continue its struggle against Turkey, using all the assets it has accumulated, including and especially in northern Syria (but also increasingly in northern Iraq). The other official said, in contrast: There are different ways to interpret Öcalan’s writings. The struggle against Turkey has gone on for 30 years. We are now ready to shift our priorities away from that fight. The PKK’s struggle against Turkey is negatively affecting us. We intend to create a region here in Syria that will be friendly toward the U.S. and Israel, with the same diplomatic access that [Masoud] Barzani enjoys. These visions were compatible as long as the immediate objective was to gain ground but now that Turkey has blocked further advances westward, the PKK will have to decide what to do next. The choice it makes in Syria will have political ramifications far beyond the Kurdish question, affecting regional and wider international stability. If the Turkey-centric view prevails, Turkey and the PKK may increasingly move their confrontation to Syria and Iraq. PKK-trained commanders in Syria say they are considering cementing the group’s presence in Sinjar, a Yazidi town in Iraq’s Ninewa governorate on the Syrian border, which the PKK helped take from ISIS in November 2015. As they see it, strengthening their position there and connecting with Iran-backed Shiite militias in nearby Tel Afar could open a road to Baghdad and so score another point against Turkey and its Kurdish ally, the KDP. The PKK sees in its Sinjar presence the potential to break the KDP-Turkey embargo on northern Syria by opening a trade route between Qamishli and Baghdad that would spare the self-rule area dependency on Damascus. This would also help Iran, which is forging a path to the Mediterranean through areas least likely to put up significant resistance. So far, the PKK has been willing to go along. The PKK may be misjudging the current balance of power and thus miscalculating its chances. It may exploit the Iranian corridor for its own anti-Turkey purposes, but it is unlikely Tehran and its allies in Baghdad would help the PKK’s Syrian affiliates gain greater political and economic autonomy from Damascus. Iran seems to be using the PKK as a counterweight to Turkey but gives no sign it would support any Kurdish autonomy in northern Syria. Indeed, the PKK’s moves in northern Iraq heighten the risk of escalation in the form of further Turkish intervention. The early signals are already there: on 25 April, the Turkish air force carried out bombing raids on bases of the PKK and/or its local affiliates in Karachok in northern Syria close to the Iraqi border, and on Sinjar Mountain just across that border, killing a number of PKK fighters. As the Turkey-PKK conflict metastasises, the YPG-PYD in northern Syria could be left empty-handed. The better option for Turkey and the PKK would be to return to peace talks, but there is scant hope for now that either would. Yet, there are ways to de-escalate the situation and pave the way for an eventual return to talks. The PKK would have to forego its goal of territorially linking the three majority-Kurdish districts, except through the new regime-held corridor south of Al-Bab. It would also need to dilute its political dominance in Kobani, Jazeera and Afrin by removing the YPG from governance and encouraging the PYD to share the authority of budgeting and appointing senior officials with Kurdish and non-Kurdish groups. If the PYD were to offer better governance, it would gain greater local support. It would help, of course, if the KDP-controlled Iraq-Syria border were to reopen, allowing goods to flow. For this, the PKK, through the YPG, would need U.S. help to mediate a solution to the Sinjar quandary with the Kurdistan Regional Government as well as Baghdad. A deal would need to involve a withdrawal of PKK-trained cadres from Sinjar in return for a full opening of the border to people and trade. As a final component, the YPG would need to refrain from directly aiding the PKK’s fight against Turkey. Ankara showed in 2013-2015 it might be able to live with a PYD-run Kurdish entity if the PKK suspended its fight and talked peace. It suggested it could equally do so if the YPG-PYD cut operational links with Qandil.PKK action to remove fighters from Sinjar in return for an open Iraq-Syria border might reverse the vicious cycle the group and Ankara entered in 2015, even if it did not yet solve the situation in northern Syria, much less address either’s core demand: for Turkey, an end to the PKK’s armed struggle; for the PKK, “democratic self-administration” in autonomous regions and recognition of basic rights such as mother-tongue education. If Turkey’s main strategic concern – having a PKK-run entity on its border that caters to the group’s fight in Turkey – is addressed, it should be willing to accept a Kurdish-run enclave in northern Syria and allow the PYD, along with other Syrian Kurdish parties, to participate in Syria peace talks and help draft a new constitution that would guarantee and protect Kurdish rights. V.Conclusion Having taken advantage of the chaos in Syria to improve its overall military position in its fight against Turkey, the PKK now faces a momentous choice. This is because its Syrian affiliates may soon reach the territorial and political limits of what is achievable, and risk losing some, if not all, of what they have gained in the past five years if they fail to adjust their behaviour. The PKK’s Syria project spearheaded by the YPG-PYD has landed it in a quandary largely precipitated by its appetite for more territory and more control without offering the local population legitimate governance. The YPG-PYD faces hostile neighbours in Turkey and, in northern Iraq, in Turkey’s ally the KDP. It has found Russia to be an unreliable ally intent on preserving the Damascus regime rather than helping the Kurds gain autonomy. The regime itself likely is simply biding its time, preparing for the day it will have recovered sufficient strength to return in force to oust the YPG-PYD from northern Syria. The only potential ally the PKK has left is, incongruously, the U.S., which long ago placed the group on its terrorism list. This means its leaders cannot speak directly to U.S. military commanders but must do so through the PKK’s YPG associates in their capacity as SDF commanders. That has worked so far but has not produced the kind of guarantees the PKK would need for its Syria project to survive. While U.S. military officers on the ground in Syria are clearly enamoured of the YPG’s fighting spirit and acumen, it is not they but the Trump administration that will decide on the U.S.’s post-Raqqa military posture in the region. It remains unclear what that decision would be. What seems clear is that the YPG-PYD will not be in a position to attract long-term U.S. protection if it fails to forego its ambition to link majority-Kurdish districts by force, separate its military control from governance, reach out to other Kurdish and non-Kurdish groups, begin to govern inclusively or put forward a realistic plan for Kurdish rights in Syria. The survival of one of Syria’s few relatively stable and peaceful enclaves – the area carved out by the YPG’s advances – should prevail in the PKK’s calculations over the military utility these acquisitions might offer in the fight against Turkey. In the absence of a Turkey-PKK deal, the group’s remarkable accomplishment in northern Syria is the maximum it can realistically hope to achieve. _______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ (c) 2017 International Crisis Group

State Counsellor and Union Minister for Foreign Affairs of the Republic of the Union of Myanmar, Aung San Suu Kyi, left, is welcomed by Prefect of the Pontifical Household, Archbishop Georg Ganswein, upon her arrival at the Vatican for a private audience with Pope Francis, Thursday, May 4, 2017. (Credit: AP Photo/Andrew Medichini.) In many ways, pro-democracy and human rights campaigner Aung San Suu Kyi of Myanmar seems a natural Pope Francis favorite. When the two met in the Vatican on Thursday morning, however, it's likely the pontiff may have had some challenging things to say to his guest about the Rohingya, an oppressed Muslim minority who have become a special focus of his concern. At first blush, Aung San Suu Kyi seems a natural Pope Francis favorite. She represents a small and isolated southeast Asian nation, appealing to the pope of the peripheries. She’s a woman in a position of power, and she’s spent her career, much of it under house arrest, battling for human rights and democracy against military rule. The two met in October 2013, when Suu Kyi was finally able to pick up an honorary citizenship of Rome she’d been awarded in 1994, after which a Vatican spokesman described “a great feeling of harmony and accord” between Francis and his Burmese guest. Two years later, Francis named the first-ever cardinal from Myanmar, Charles Bo, in a clear sign of respect and affection for the country. Moreover, relations between the Vatican and Myanmar are warming, with the country’s parliament having approved a measure in March to make Myanmar the 183rd nation to enjoy diplomatic relations with the Holy See. So why did the second meeting of these two global icons on Thursday, as opposed to the first, feel as much like a collision as a love-fest? Suu Kyi is in Rome to participate in a conference Thursday afternoon organized by the Italian parliament on gender equality and sustainable development, and also met on Wednesday with Italian Foreign Minister Angelino Alfano, who praised her “personal, peaceful commitment to the cause of democracy and human rights.” Also on Thursday, she was to meet Italian Prime Minister Paolo Gentiloni. The highlight of her schedule, however, was the tête-à-tête with Francis. There were the usual pleasantries surrounding the encounter, as both figures were smiling and apparently relaxed. Francis presented her with a medallion depicting a desert blooming, illustrating a passage from the Old Testament book of Isaiah, but also a sign of hope for the country. Yet although no one quite said so out loud, there’s every reason to believe that when Francis and Suu Kyi were behind closed doors, they did more than make nice. The reason is that while Pope Francis does indeed love an underdog, in the context of Myanmar these days, that’s no longer Suu Kyi, who now serves as State Counsellor, the de facto head of government, but rather an oppressed group of Muslims in the country’s western Rakhine state known as the Rohingya, whose plight has become a special focus of Francis’s concern. Tens of thousands of Rohingya, perhaps as many as 100,000, are believed to have fled Myanmar, most crossing by land into Bangladesh but others taking boats in an effort to reach Indonesia, Malaysia, and Thailand. In general, those countries don’t feel capable of handling an influx of refugees, and their reception often has been harsh. Yet the Rohingya continue to flee, escaping what a UN report in February described as a possible “genocide” and set of “crimes against humanity” in Myanmar, where the Rohingya are officially categorized as Bengali “interlopers” despite the fact they’ve lived in Rakhine for generations. They’re subject to systematic discrimination and violence, what the UN also called a “campaign of terror,” and enjoy no citizenship rights - in effect, they’re stateless. Pope Francis first spoke out on the fate of the Rohingya in August 2015, during a session with youth in Rome. “Let’s think of those brothers of ours of the Rohingya,” he said. “They were chased from one country and from another and from another. When they arrived at a port or a beach, they gave them a bit of water or a bit to eat and were then chased out to the sea. “This is a conflict that has not resolved, and this is war, this is called violence, this is called killing!” he said. One month later, he brought the Rohingya up again in an interview with Portuguese radio. “Further away from Europe there is another phenomenon which hurt me deeply: the Rohingya, who are expelled from their country, get into boats and leave,” he said. “They reach a port or a beach, and they are fed and given water and then sent out to sea again, and not taken in. There is a lack of capacity for welcoming humanity.” Francis came at the subject again in February, saying on the Church’s International Day of Prayer and Awareness against Human Trafficking that “they have been suffering, they are being tortured and killed, simply because they uphold their Muslim faith. “I would like to pray today with you in a special way for our brothers and sisters Rohingya,” the pontiff said. “They are driven out of Myanmar, going from one place to another because they’re not wanted. They’re good people, peaceful! They aren’t Christians, they’re good [people]. They’re brothers and sisters of ours,” he said. The remarks were spontaneous, suggesting the issue is close to Francis’s heart. For his part, Bo has been equally outspoken, defining the persecution of the Rohingyas as “an appalling scar on the conscience of my country.” He has described them as “among the most marginalized, dehumanized and persecuted people in the world. They are treated worse than animals.” Addressing the UK parliament in London in May 25, 2016, Bo said no human being deserves to be treated the way the Rohingyas are. “Without [a solution], the prospects for genuine peace and true freedom for my country will be denied, for no one can sleep easy at night knowing how one particular group of people are dying simply due to their race and religion.” Bo’s line, and that of the tiny Catholic community in Myanmar (less than one percent of the population of 55 million), stands in stark contrast to hardline elements of the majority Buddhist tradition. Buddhist monks often join protest rallies at ports in Myanmar, for instance, objecting to efforts to deliver humanitarian aid to the Rohingya. To date, Suu Kyi has either maintained silence or defended the status quo. She recently ruled out Myanmar cooperating with a UN Human Rights Council resolution calling for an investigation, saying it’s not “in keeping with what is actually happening on the ground.” She’s also denied that ethnic cleansing is taking place, saying “it’s a matter of different sides of the divide, and this divide we are trying to close up.” Granted, many observers believe Suu Kyi has to walk a fine line given the massive influence the military still wields in Myanmar. Nevertheless, some of the shine seems to have come off her reputation, as several human rights campaigners who used to spend their time campaigning for her release are now attacking her record. As appalling as the situation with the Rohingya is, it’s not the only issue on which Francis may have had some challenging things to say. Earlier this year, Myanmar’s military confirmed they had arrested two Protestant clergy and charged them with aiding rebels in the eastern Shan State, after long denying they were in custody. The two were accused of serving as “informers and spreading false news on behalf of the armed insurgents.” By “spreading false news,” what a military spokesman meant is that the two clergymen had helped journalists cover the military’s bombing of a Catholic church and school in Shan State in late November 2016. In recent years, organizations of Buddhist radical monks, such as one called “Ma Ba Tha,” have increased their campaigns against religious minorities and successfully helped introduce four laws for the “Protection of Race and Religion,” building almost insurmountable hurdles to conversions and religiously mixed marriages. Christians in Myanmar often suffer a double whammy. First, because they tend to be concentrated among ethnic minorities, especially the Kachin, they’re targeted for racial reasons. Second, because Christians are often (mis)identified with the West, they’re also seen by radical Buddhist groups as the cultural and political “other.” The United States Commission on International Religious Freedom recently issued a report on Christian persecution in Myanmar, concluding that Christians face discrimination in employment, forced conversions, violence and desecration of churches and Christian communities. “Senior leaders in Burma’s government need to publicly acknowledge and remedy the fact that the elevation of Buddhism as the de facto state religion and resulting policies and practices have violated the rights of Christians and other religious and ethnic minorities,” the report concluded. More than 60 Christian churches have been destroyed in Myanmar’s Kachin state, where the country’s Christian population is concentrated, since a long-standing cease-fire broke down in 2011, according to the British-based Christian Solidarity Worldwide. For now, we don’t know exactly what cards Francis may have put on the table during his encounter with Suu Kyi. During a news conference on his return flight from Egypt to Rome on April 28, Francis insisted that when he meets a political leader, what transpires stays between them. “Generally, when I meet with a head of state for a private conversation, it remains private,” he said. Yet despite that reserve, given the context of what’s happening in Myanmar these days, it’s not difficult to imagine that whatever went on Thursday, it wasn’t entirely sweetness and light. ______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________(c) 2017 Crux

Course Type: Seminar Event Fee: $650.00 Registration Fee: $50.00 In today’s world, questions of how to best build and maintain democratic societies that are pluralistic, open, and resilient to violence are more relevant than ever. Studying the Holocaust allows students to wrestle with profound moral questions raised by this history and fosters their skills in ethical reasoning, critical thinking, empathy, and civic engagement—all of which are critical for sustaining democracy. In this five day seminar — featuring the fully revised, printed edition of Holocaust and Human Behavior—teachers will: Learn current scholarship on the history of the Holocaust and new research focused on human behavior, group dynamics, and bias Increase their ability to facilitate respectful classroom discussions on difficult issues such as racism, antisemitism, and other forms of exclusion in a way that invites personal reflection and critical analysis Learn a new way of structuring curriculum to help students connect history to their own lives and the choices they make Engage with classroom-ready multimedia resources and learn how to build a customized unit that meets your curriculum objectives Discover new teaching strategies that help students interrogate text, think critically, and discuss controversial issues respectfully After this seminar you will: Become part of the Facing History educator network, with access to a rich slate of educator resources, including downloadable unit and lesson plans, study guides, and multimedia Be able to borrow books and DVDs through our online lending library at no cost This seminar is intended for 6-12th grade U.S. history, world history, humanities, or English language arts teachers. Independent evaluation has shown that implementing Facing History’s approach improves students’ higher-order thinking skills, increases students’ civic efficacy and engagement with civic matters, and increases students’ tolerance for others who hold contrary views from their own. Space is limited; registration does not guarantee admission. You may be contacted by a Facing History staff member to discuss your application. Funding and scholarships for this seminar for Philadelphia area educators have been generously underwritten by the Seed the Dream Foundation. Germantown Friends School 31 W. Coulter St. Philadelphia, PA 19144 7.10.17 - 7.14.17 9:00 am - 5:00 pm

WATERTOWN, Mass.—Sixteen national organizations joined an Armenian National Committee of America Eastern Region (ANCA-ER) initiative earlier this year to prevent genocide denial ads from appearing in American newspapers, billboards, and other media. Unlike in 2016 and previous years, no major media carried genocide denial advertising in April 2017. Sixteen national organizations joined an ANCA-ER initiative earlier this year to prevent genocide denial ads from appearing in American newspapers, billboards, and other media. “We are thankful to our coalition partners who are principled in the matter of inadmissibility of genocide denial in any form,” said ANCA-ER Chairman Steve Mesrobian. “Genocide denial is not ‘provocative’ or ‘scholarly debate,’ but deeply offensive hate speech and we are glad to see such positive results from our ongoing anti-defamation activities. We are committed in ensuring that the memory of all the innocent victims of the Armenian Genocide, the Holocaust, and all other genocides are properly commemorated and remembered.” A coalition of 16 national anti-genocide and human rights organizations joined the ANCA-ER in efforts directed at major newspapers and advertising companies in the U.S. The initiative sought to heighten awareness of attempts to place genocide denial advertising and to urge these companies not to accept such ads. The coalition included A Demand for Action, American Jewish Committee, Anne Frank Center for Mutual Respect, Carl Wilkens Fellowship, Darfur and Beyond, Darfur Interfaith Network, Genocide Watch, Hellenic American Leadership Council, In Defense of Christians, International Association of Genocide Scholars, JCRC of Minnesota and the Dakotas, Jewish World Watch, Stop Genocide Now, STAND, The Philos Project, and Together We Remember. In April 2016, the ANCA-ER led a successful grassroots mobilization in Illinois, New York, Massachusetts, and other areas to force media giants like ClearChannel to immediately bring down genocide denial billboards and issue an apology. After the appearance of similar advertising in The Wall Street Journal, The Chicago Tribune, and The Philadelphia Inquirer in late April 2016, the ANCA-ER assembled a coalition of 14 anti-genocide and human rights groups which called upon the newspapers to formally review their advertising polices to prevent the placement of genocide denial ads in the future. Earlier this year the ANCA-ER, together with its coalition partners, proactively reached out to media outlets across the U.S. to remind them not to accept such advertising. __________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ (c) 2017 The Armenian Weekly

Aung San Suu Kyi prepares for a meeting with Italian foreign minister Angelino Alfano in Rome. Photograph: Giuseppe Lami/EPA When Aung San Suu Kyi was finally able to collect her Nobel peace prize in 2012, the committee’s chairman described how her “firmness of principle” in the struggle for human rights and democracy had made her “a moral leader for the whole world”. Since taking power in Myanmar, the former political prisoner’s moral credibility has been vastly diminished if not demolished by her failure to even acknowledge the brutal persecution of the Rohingya minority in Rakhine state. A dozen fellow Nobel peace laureates have lamented her inaction faced with “a human tragedy amounting to ethnic cleansing and crimes against humanity”. On Tuesday, the increasing gulf between her and her long-time international supporters was exposed again when she appeared alongside the European Union’s foreign policy chief Federica Mogherini. The EU rightly backs the United Nations human rights council’s decision to dispatch a fact-finding mission over allegations of murder, rape and torture by military and security forces. She insisted the decision was “not in keeping with what is really happening on the ground” and would make matters worse. The stateless Rohingya population, who are Muslim, have been abused and suppressed for decades. In 2012, massacres killed more than 200 people and displaced around 140,000 to what are effectively detention camps. In 2015, the International State Crime Initiative at Queen Mary University of London concluded that Myanmar was coordinating with ethnic Rakhine ultra-nationalists, racist Buddhist monks and its own security forces in a campaign of genocide. It fears that process may be escalating. In October, military “clearance operations” in northern Rakhine state following attacks on border police posts by Rohingya militants forced tens of thousands to flee; a UN report details allegations of atrocities including gang rape and child murder. Before Aung San Suu Kyi came to power, defenders said she was biding her time and would tackle the troubles of Myanmar’s ethnic minorities – of which the Rohingya are by far the most serious – in due course. Now they say her hands are tied. The military still calls the shots, particularly in border areas. This is in part down to the constitution, which awards the army the most important cabinet posts, but also because the generals control large tracts of industry. She also faces a tide of anti-Muslim nationalism. But her own office plastered the words “fake rape” across its website to discredit reports of sexual abuse by troops. The rights of some humans seem more important than others. The UN mission should, of course, be able to investigate unimpeded. Myanmar’s record of obstructing journalists, NGOs, academics and other researchers is unacceptable. But the evidence of crimes against humanity is already compelling. So in the meantime the limited avenues for exerting pressure on Myanmar must be used. Working with civil society groups to challenge racial and religious hatred is extremely difficult – given such widespread hostility – but activists say it is vital. Foreign governments can play their part by making trade and other deals with Myanmar conditional on civil and human rights being tangibly upheld. Firms doing business in Myanmar should be likewise pressed to face their moral responsibilities. The Rohingya cannot wait for Aung San Suu Kyi or yet more reports. __________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ (c) 2017 The Guardian News and Media Limited

Militants have threatened to storm and torch Keila Camp in Mershing locality in South Darfur unless the inhabitants pay compensation for livestock the gunmen claim to have lost. One of the displaced residents of the camp told Radio Dabanga that they sought help of the locality police, but the militants threatened the police and gave the displaced an ultimatum until Saturday to return 40 cattle or the cash equivalent, or they would pillage and burn the camp. School ransacked On Tuesday militants broke into Kushina basic school south Tawila in North Darfur. Omda Bosh told Radio Dabanga that militants on two Land Cruisers mounted with a Dushka machinegun 10 am on Tuesday, seized school equipment, chairs, cupboards and other school objects including doors from the headmaster and teachers’ offices and the storehouse, loaded them into a lorry headed towards Kabkabiya. ___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ © 2017 Radio Dabanga

(Geneva) – United Nations member countries should denounce the Philippines’ brutal “war on drugs” that has killed more than 7,000 people since President Rodrigo Duterte took office in June 2016, Human Rights Watch said today. The Philippines will appear for the third cycle of the Human Rights Council’s Universal Periodic Review (UPR) on May 8, 2017, in Geneva. Janeth Mejos reacts as the body of her father Paquito Mejos is taken out of their home shortly after he was killed in a police operation in Manila. © 2016 Reuters/Damir Sagolj UN member countries should urge the Philippines to support an international investigation into the killings, given the Philippine government’s own failure to impartially investigate or prosecute those responsible, Human Rights Watch said. Various UN bodies, the media, and Human Rights Watch and other nongovernmental organizations have reported on the extrajudicial killings, which may amount to crimes against humanity. “The UN review of the Philippines is critical because of the sheer magnitude of the human rights calamity since President Duterte took office last year,” said Phelim Kine, deputy Asia director at Human Rights Watch. “Duterte’s ‘war on drugs’ has been nothing less than a murderous war on the poor.” At the UPR, the human rights progress of each UN member country is reviewed every four years. Members and observers of the UN Human Rights Council will raise the Philippines’ past human rights pledges and new concerns. The previous reviews of the Philippines were in 2008 and 2012. This year’s review covers the last four years of the administration of President Benigno Aquino III and the period since Duterte took office. "Duterte’s ‘war on drugs’ has been nothing less than a murderous war on the poor" - Phelim Kine, Deputy Asia Director. Immediately after the UN review of the Philippines on May 8, Human Rights Watch will moderate a side event in Geneva, co-hosted with other NGOs, to assess the review and the Philippine delegation’s responses. This event will take place from 12:30 p.m. to 14:30 p.m. in room XXIII of the Palais des Nations, Geneva. Human Rights Watch, in its UPR submission in September 2016, highlighted some of the human rights problems the Philippines faces: Extrajudicial Killings The killings of activists, peasant and indigenous peoples’ leaders, environmentalists, journalists, and – especially under the Duterte government – suspected criminals, persist. Duterte has instigated the police and incited vigilantes to kill suspected drug dealers and drug users in his anti-drug campaign. He has ignored calls for an official probe into these killings. Instead, he has praised the killings as proof of the “success” of the “drug war” and urged police to “seize the momentum.” Human Rights Watch has also documented the existence of police-linked death squads in several cities, including Davao City, where Duterte served as mayor for 22 years. A 2014 Human Rights report examined the death squad in Tagum City in Mindanao. Torture The military and police have continued to commit torture and other ill-treatment in custody. The passage in 2009 of the Anti-Torture Act was met with enthusiasm but has resulted in only one torture conviction to date. There is evidence that the military engages in torture of civil society activists and alleged insurgents in its custody. In October 2013, Human Rights Watch documented the mistreatment of detainees, including children, by security forces in Zamboanga City in the southern Philippines. The national Commission on Human Rights has received numerous torture allegations that mainly implicate the Philippine National Police. An April 26, 2017 raid by the commission on a police station in Manila resulted in the discovery of a secret jail where at least a dozen drug suspects were illegally detained. They alleged mistreatment and extortion by the police. Enforced Disappearances In its last UPR review in 2012, the Philippines accepted recommendations to carry out impartial investigations into all allegations of enforced disappearances. Two bellwether tests of military impunity for enforced disappearances are the abduction and alleged torture of activists Karen Empeno and Sherlyn Cadapan in 2006. Although police eventually arrested retired Maj. Gen. Jovito Palparan for his alleged role in that crime, his trial is ongoing. The case of Jonas Burgos, a peasant leader who was abducted by military personnel from inside a mall in Quezon City in April 2007, and has not been seen since is also emblematic of impunity for enforced disappearances. Indigenous Peoples Tribal and environmental groups have accused the military of using local paramilitaries to help clear ancestral areas to pave the way for mining companies and other business interests. Military operations against suspected communist New People’s Army rebels have also displaced hundreds of students in several tribal schools in four provinces in Mindanao since 2010. In 2015, domestic human rights groups alleged that the military conducted a series of attacks against indigenous peoples in Mindanao. Reproductive Health Rights Human Rights Watch has documented policies designed to derail the full enforcement of the country’s Reproductive Health Law. A temporary restraining order issued in 2015 by the Supreme Court, which was responding to conservative opposition to contraceptives, threatens to render obsolete a considerable number of contraceptives already procured by the government because these would expire in 2018. The court has since expanded the ruling, instructing the Food and Drug Administration to not approve any new applications for contraceptives. At least two cities – Sorsogon City and Balanga City – have issued ordinances that effectively banned the sale and distribution of contraceptives, among them pills, implants, and condoms. Children’s Rights Human Rights Watch has documented how thousands of children – some as young as 9 – risk their lives in small-scale gold mines, mostly financed by local businessmen. Children work in unstable 25-meter-deep pits and dive underwater to mine along shores or in rivers. Children also work with mercury, a toxic metal that is commonly used to process gold. Attacks on schools by the military and its paramilitary group continue to be a concern. On September 1, 2015, the Magahat paramilitary group allegedly attacked a tribal school in Surigao del Sur province, torturing and killing an educator and two tribal leaders. HIV/AIDS Epidemic The Philippines currently has one of Asia’s fastest-growing HIV/AIDS epidemics. Although the national prevalence rate is still low, the country is experiencing a sharp rise in new infections particularly among men who have sex with men. That increase is linked to policies at the local, provincial, and national level, compounded by resistance of the Catholic Church and other elements hostile to sexual health education and condom use. They include obstacles to condom access and HIV testing, and inadequate educational HIV prevention efforts. (C) 2017 Human Rights Watch

On April 28th, many around the world watched in anticipation as Pope Francis traveled to Cairo, Egypt only a few short weeks after terrorists killed dozens of Coptic Christians on Palm Sunday. Many of those watching, and in particular the Coptic community, wondered if Pope Francis would take after his predecessor, Pope Benedict XVI, who in a New Year’s speech in 2011 acknowledged the persecution of the Coptic community in Egypt and strongly admonished those in leadership, both religious and secular, for not doing more to protect them. In his 2011 speech, Pope Benedict XVI stated, “…to the Muslim religious leaders, I renew my heartfelt appeal that their Christian fellow-citizens be able to live in security ... In Alexandria, terrorism brutally struck Christians as they prayed in church. This succession of attacks is yet another sign of the urgent need for the governments of the region to adopt, in spite of difficulties and dangers, effective measures for the protection of religious minorities.” (Message to the People of God of the Special Assembly for the Middle East of the Synod of Bishops, 10). On Friday, Pope Francis took a different approach in his condemnation of the most recent terror attacks when he stated, “… I express my deep condolences. I pray for the dead and the injured, and I am close in spirit to the family members [of the deceased and injured] and to the entire community … May the Lord convert the hearts of the people who are sowing terror, violence and death, and also the hearts of those who make and traffic weapons.” Immediately following his visit, some religious freedom advocates expressed disappointment that Pope Francis did not come out more emphatically in his condemnation of the attacks which were committed in the name of Islam upon the Coptic community. Others wagered that he might have wanted to ensure that the window of opportunity to speak with Sheikh Ahmed el-Tayeb, the Grand Imam of al-Azhar Mosque, remained open. During the conference with el-Tayeb at al-Azhar on Saturday, Pope Francis did state, "Let us say once more a firm and clear 'No!' to every form of violence, vengeance and hatred carried out in the name of religion or in the name of God." While it is difficult to say which Pope’s approach is more effective in the condemnation of persecution and human rights abuses and in the promotion of religious freedom, both are necessary and have their benefits. One could use the example of how the United States Commission on International Religious Freedom (USCIRF) and the State Department’s International Religious Freedom (IRF) Office often function. USCIRF is considered by many to be the hard-hitting “watchdog,” publicly calling out authoritarian governments for their egregious human rights abuses and exposing the inconsistencies of what is said versus what is done. On the other hand, the IRF Office, which focuses on the exact same issues as that of the Commission, will often utilize a form of “quiet diplomacy,” in order to keep the door open for further conversation and diplomatic intervention on behalf of those being persecuted. Often those on the outside can be frustrated by the seeming lack of urgency, attention and transparency of the IRF Office, while singing the praises of the more outspoken USCIRF. However, when asked, those in these separate offices would be quick to say that both are necessary and serve a distinct purpose. While Pope Benedict and Pope Francis condemned the terrorist attacks differently, we can be sure that both advocate for those who face persecution in Egypt and around the world. Abigail Berg Director of Government Relations Take Action: 1. Learn more about the plight of Egypt’s Coptic Church by checking out Coptic Solidarity(copticsolidarity.org) 2. Read USCIRF’s report released last week about the state of religious freedom in Egypt. 3. Donate to Stephen’s Children (stephenschildren.org), which provides education, training and other need-based humanitarian aid to Egypt’s poorest. _________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ (c) 2017 Wilberforce

European Union foreign policy chief Federica Mogherini gives a news conference with Myanmar State Counsellor Aung San Suu Kyi in Brussels, Belgium May 2, 2017. REUTERS/Eric Vidal The European Union clashed on Tuesday with the visiting leader of Myanmar, Aung San Suu Kyi, by publicly supporting an international mission to look into alleged human rights abuses by the country's security forces against Rohingya Muslims. The EU's top diplomat Federica Mogherini, speaking at a news conference with Suu Kyi, said an agreed resolution of the U.N. Human Rights Council would help clear up uncertainty about allegations of killings, torture and rape against Rohingyas. On the basis of that resolution, the top United Nations human rights body will send an international fact-finding mission to Myanmar despite Suu Kyi's reservations. "The fact-finding mission is focusing on establishing the truth about the past," Mogherini said, noting a rare area of disagreement between the 28-nation EU and Myanmar. "We believe that this can contribute to establishing the facts." The U.N. Human Rights Council adopted the resolution, which was brought by the European Union and supported by countries including the United States, without a vote in March. China and India distanced themselves from the U.N. resolution. Asked about the move, Suu Kyi, a Nobel Peace laureate, said: "We are disassociating ourselves from the resolution because we don't think the resolution is in keeping with what is actually happening on the ground." Suu Kyi, the de facto leader of Myanmar's civilian government and also its foreign minister, said she would only accept recommendations from a separate advisory commission led by former U.N. chief Kofi Annan. Any other input would "divide" communities, she added, without giving further details. The violent persecution of the Rohingya Muslim minority in Myanmar and their efforts to flee the Southeast Asian country, often falling victim to predatory human-trafficking networks, has become an international concern, documented by Reuters in Pulitzer Prize-winning reports. A U.N. report issued last month, based on interviews with220 Rohingya among 75,000 who have fled to Bangladesh since October, said that Myanmar's security forces have committed mass killings and gang rapes of Rohingya in a campaign that "very likely" amounts to crimes against humanity and possibly ethnic cleansing. Activists have welcomed what they called a "landmark decision" by the 47-member U.N. Human Rights Council, and have called on the Myanmar government to cooperate. Suu Kyi assumed power in 2016 following a landslide election win after Myanmar's former military leaders initiated a political transition. The country had been an international pariah for decades under the military junta. (Reporting by Robin Emmott; Editing by Gareth Jones) __________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ (c) 2017 Reuters

Executive Summary Nusaybin, a political stronghold of the Kurdish movement bordering Syria, is among Turkey’s urban south-eastern districts that saw unprecedented levels of violence in 2016. Particularly in the wake of the failed July coup attempt and in the run-up to the 2017 presidential system referendum, emergency rule conditions resulted in the arrest and/or removal from office of elected representatives of the legal Kurdish political movement. While conflict fatigue can be observed in this town where 30,000 lost their homes, so can a distinct sense that a political solution is not in sight. Ankara’s effort to meet residents’ basic needs and compensate their material losses is notable, but managing the conflict’s social/political fallout and addressing grievances of Kurdish movement supporters will be crucial if that marginalised constituency is not to be left more susceptible to mobilisation by the insurgent Kurdistan Workers’ Party (PKK) and drawn toward violence. Since violence resumed in July 2015, the 33-year conflict with the PKK, which Turkey, the U.S. and European Union (EU) consider a terrorist organisation, has devastated neighbourhoods and livelihoods across urban districts of the majority-Kurdish south east. In twenty-one months, at least 2,748 died, around 100,000 lost their homes, and up to 400,000 were temporarily displaced. Turkish security forces conducted hundreds of operations in urban and rural areas of the south east, while the PKK – after a period of intense clashes in urban centres and attacks with improvised explosive devices (IEDs) also in western cities of Turkey – returned to fighting in rural areas in June 2016. With the rise to dominance of nationalist cadres and hardline policies in Ankara, the state’s approach is to weaken the PKK as much as possible; marginalise the main legal Kurdish political entity, the Peoples’ Democratic Party (HDP); win over locals via better services and infrastructure,; and nurture other Kurdish political actors that might serve as an alternative to the HDP. Residents in the conflict-torn south east are fed contradictory narratives as to why the escalation reached such levels. Government affiliates retroactively blame cadres linked to what they call the Fethullahist Terrorist Organisation (FETÖ) – also blamed for the 15 July 2016 coup attempt – for the PKK mobilisation in south-eastern urban districts during the peace process (2013-2015). Conversely, hardline Kurdish movement representatives assert that elements in Ankara favouring nationalist policies, and President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan himself, orchestrated the escalation to justify the crackdown on the legal Kurdish political movement. Residents are bitter toward the state but also blame the PKK for being ready to sacrifice its social base in Turkey to pursue the unrealistic ambition of carving out autonomous neighbourhoods with trenches and barricades. State initiatives to rebuild Nusaybin’s neighbourhoods and compensate residents for material losses have taken time to develop, and transparency is lagging. The government is making diligent efforts to compensate for the true value of destroyed property, but administrative gaffes and delays exacerbate longstanding mistrust of state authorities. Clearing explosives from neighbourhoods where fighting occurred, the authorities say, required flattening buildings that were still standing, but it fuelled speculation that the destruction was intended to allow new construction that would facilitate security measures against renewed urban warfare. Despite genuine progress, the physical reconstruction of houses will not be sufficient to restore trust between the state and the local population or to rejuvenate fully the town’s social dynamism any time soon. The government needs to meet expectations regarding revitalising small businesses, which may require allowing controlled border trade, and adequately address the psycho-social needs of people traumatised by the conflict. More broadly, the central authorities’ removal of elected representatives and purge of locally-trusted municipality personnel have consolidated a sense among Kurdish movement supporters that their political orientation and culture is not recognised. That, plus the stifling of public debate, ban on mass protests in some areas and strong security force presence also has strengthened the perception that there is no outlet for democratic politics. For some, it has left armed struggle as a legitimate response. In the wake of the 16 April referendum, in which 79 per cent of Nusaybin residents voted “no”, the government extended for three months the emergency rule that has been in place since the failed coup. This is hardly the best way to suggest a shift toward the inclusive, pluralistic policies required to win hearts and minds. At a minimum, state officials should engage with local residents by hiring staff that is more attuned to the social fabric, and proactively try to address the trust deficit. Ideally, President Erdoğan – having now secured an executive presidency – would focus on healing social divides, including with respect to the ideological diversity among Turkey’s Kurds. With no elections scheduled for two years, he may be less intent on mobilising nationalist constituencies. That would be the right choice. The alternative – impeding channels for the legitimate representation of the Kurdish movement and ignoring longstanding political demands and grievances – would ensure that adversity festers and segments of the population radicalise. By the same token, if the government continues to broadly apply anti-terror legislation so as to criminalise the mere fact of contradicting official accounts, there will be no hope for the resumption of more constructive, peaceful public debate on resolving Turkey’s PKK conflict. That is the key. With the coming of spring, mutual escalation of that confrontation is likely; the Syrian war, in which Ankara and Kurdish affiliates of the PKK are at odds, further magnifies the danger. The only way to durable peace remains new talks between Turkey and the PKK, accompanied – on a separate track – by an effort to satisfy Turkey’s Kurdish population on core issues such as mother-tongue education, de-centralisation, a lower electoral threshold, reform of anti-terror laws and an ethnically neutral constitution. Introduction During the 2.5-year PKK-Turkish state ceasefire and peace process (March 2013-April 2015), the Kurdish organisation deepened its presence in urban districts of the south east. Urban warfare followed the ceasefire’s collapse in July 2015. From August 2015, a number of regional mayors from the Democratic Regions’ Party (DBP), an HDP sister party, announced their autonomy from Ankara. PKK militants set up barricades and dug trenches to keep state security forces out. The government imposed curfews, closing residential neighbourhoods of some 40 south-eastern districts for periods ranging from hours to months. In the most serious cases, residents were asked to evacuate their homes during months of security operations aimed at clearing out PKK, notably in Diyarbakır’s Sur district and Şırnak’s centre, Cizre and Silopi districts, as well as Mardin’s Nusaybin and Hakkari’s Yüksekova districts, where entire neighbourhoods were demolished. International organisations and local human rights NGOs have reported extensively on alleged human rights abuses. Crisis Group’s open-source casualty infographic indicates the conflict’s death toll between the breakdown of the ceasefire and 25 April 2017 has been at least 2,721. Crisis Group last reported on the conflict in the region in March 2016, when it examined the human cost in Diyarbakır’s Sur district. Operations had ended in many districts, but the most intense period was just beginning in the town of Nusaybin, where a 134-day curfew ran from 14 March to 25 July 2016. Since then, operations have taken place only in rural areas of the town, reflecting the general shift of the fighting away from urban centres back to the traditional arena of the 33-year conflict. When Crisis Group visited Nusaybin in February 2017, there was relative calm in the town but also a strong security presence, and security operations were ongoing in rural areas and villages of the district. The south east’s atmosphere has been deeply impacted by larger domestic political developments. Over the last year, Turkey has experienced an unprecedented consolidation of presidential power, particularly in the aftermath of the 15 July 2016 coup attempt attributed to the network Ankara has labelled “FETÖ” (Fethullahist Terrorist Organisation). The emergency rule that the government declared in the coup’s aftermath paved the way for sweeping purges and arrests of those suspected of links to either FETÖ and/or the PKK, both alleged to be used by foreign powers that want to destabilise Turkey. The post-coup climate and emergency rule enabled a massive purge in state institutions, along with intense pressure and restrictions on media, academia and civil society, while impunity for security forces increased with legislative changes. In an effort to convert the government system from parliamentary to presidential, the ruling Justice and Development Party (AKP), in conjunction with the Nationalist Movement Party (MHP), proposed eighteen constitutional changes that were approved by 51.4 per cent of those who participated in the 16 April 2017 referendum. The referendum campaign both fed off and played into marginalisation of the Kurdish movement. The political leadership framed a “no” vote as support for terrorists, while high-ranking PKK figures expressed opposition to the constitutional changes. Thirteen HDP parliamentarians and 84 DBP mayors spent the campaign and voted in prison. Local Kurdish movement representatives not arrested were under immense pressure. Nevertheless, 61 per cent of voters in the twelve provinces that in November 2015 supported the HDP voted against the changes. The “no” vote in the main urban conflict districts of Cizre, Sur, Nusaybin, Yüksekova and Silopi was 75.3 per cent, among the highest in the country. The Turkey/PKK conflict also has considerably aggravated Turkey’s relations with the U.S. and European Union (EU) in the past year. Ankara blames Washington for providing support to the PKK’s Syrian affiliate, the People’s Protection Units (YPG)/Democratic Union Party (PYD). It accuses the EU and its member states – with which relations are also strained over what Ankara considers unfair obstacles in the accession process and failure to keep its end of the refugee deal, while Brussels objects to what it sees as Ankara’s dangerous disregard for liberal principles and EU values – of leniency toward the PKK and aiding PKK-linked individuals in their countries and pushing for changes in Turkish anti-terror laws that could embolden terrorists. The EU visa liberalisation process, about which EU member states are highly sensitive given the refugee/migration crisis, has stalled primarily due to Ankara’s reluctance to reform those anti-terror laws, the broad interpretation of which potentially qualifies more Turkish citizens for asylum in the EU. While Ankara’s public line is that a military solution to the PKK conflict is within reach, officials privately acknowledge that the insurgency’s eradication is unrealistic. Rather, the strategy appears to be to weaken the PKK as much as operationally possible, curb its affiliate’s aspirations in Syria, paralyse and discredit the HDP and dilute its influence by nurturing alternative Kurdish actors. A year after examining the human cost of the conflict in Sur, Crisis Group looks in this report at Nusaybin, on the Syrian border, an area deeply impacted by the recent cycle of violent escalation between the PKK and the Turkish state. The report assesses the extent to which Turkey’s strategy is yielding desired results as opposed to unintended consequences, as well as how the conflict’s human cost and its social and political fallout might be better managed. II.Nusaybin: Conflict Dynamics and Narratives A.The Surge of Violence Nusaybin, in Mardin province at the border with Syria and with a population of around 120,000, predominately Kurdish, many of whom have relatives in the Syrian town of Qamishli, is a political stronghold of the Kurdish movement. The town is strategically important for Ankara due to its close proximity to Qamishli, which is predominately PYD-controlled. The HDP won 90.4 and 89.4 per cent of the vote in Nusaybin in the June and November 2015 parliamentary elections respectively. Political consolidation paralleled a surge in Kurdish nationalism in the town, where the PKK had begun during the peace process (2013-2015) to mobilise youths. After the June vote, members of the PKK’s youth wing, YDG-H (Patriotic Revolutionary Youth Movement), became more active in the town and the main actors in the ensuing fighting. Nusaybin saw unprecedented violence in 2016, with a death toll of at least 184, of whom 24 were civilians. Six of the town centre’s fifteen neighbourhoods were fully destroyed; some 6,000 buildings were demolished or heavily damaged; around 30,000 people lost their homes. While officially the town lost 10 per cent of its residents in 2016, a local source estimated the decrease at around 35 per cent. With the help of PKK militants, some of the town’s youths dug trenches and set up barricades in the Fırat, Abdulkadir Paşa, Yenişehir and Dicle neighbourhoods (see map in Appendix B below). Because state security forces first focused on operations in Sur and Cizre, PKK militants temporarily were able to control parts of Nusaybin, which they and some civilians perceived as “liberated”. When small, intermittent security operations began in October 2015, the number of trenches and barricades was estimated by local sources at around 150. By March 2016, just before large military operations began, that figure had increased to 450-500, a majority of which were barricades erected with cobblestones removed from roads. PKK propaganda in the town stimulated “self-defence” sentiment by playing up allegations that security forces had burned civilians in basements in Cizre. Between 1 October 2015 and 25 July 2016, security forces imposed seven curfews, the last of which was declared on 14 March and lasted 134 days. During this intensive phase of clashes, the curfew was only lifted at brief intervals to allow civilians to escape. A middle-aged man who lost his home explained: Some armed militants came to our house and asked me to arm myself and resist with them. I didn’t want to join and left my home together with my wife and kids. When we returned after the curfew was lifted in our neighbourhood for a short while, our house had been burnt down completely. This sense of being squeezed between the state and the PKK was particularly felt by women. Some mothers said they had begged their sons to leave the region, do seasonal work or join relatives in other provinces so they would not be taken by PKK militants. Women said they were tormented by guilt for having left fighting sons and daughters behind in Nusaybin. “I should have died with my three sons” a mother said, in tears. Others related stories of grandmothers who during the curfews and clashes continued to knit socks “to send to their boys in the mountains”. Some fretted their teenagers had been indoctrinated or forcibly recruited by the PKK and they had nowhere to turn for help. While many Nusaybin residents felt caught between powerful forces, some were motivated and emboldened to support the PKK youths. Others were pressured to take part in active fighting and give logistical help. Yet others left town once a curfew was announced, because they knew the security forces would interpret their presence as support for the PKK, so they might become targets. Curfews continued to be imposed in rural areas of Nusaybin throughout late winter/early spring. Destructed areas in Nusaybin. February 2017 International Crisis Group / Yılmaz Akıncı B.Who Is at Fault? Conflict Narratives While the conflict essentially is being fought between the PKK and the state, its binary nature is blurred by the conviction of government representatives that Gülenist (FETÖ) infiltration and deception also is involved. According to the official discourse, FETÖ-linked cadres have nestled in the state for years, pursuing their own agenda, for instance allowing the PKK to build itself up militarily in some south-east districts during the peace process. Hard-line Kurdish factions close to the PKK, on the other hand, allege that state agents infiltrated the insurgency and orchestrated the escalation in order eventually to discredit the legal Kurdish movement and provide grounds for criminalising its representatives. Amid rampant speculation, retrospective re-interpretations of how escalation was prepared and advanced feed into parallel conflict narratives. Government officials generally acknowledge they tolerated PKK activity during the 2.5-year peace process so as not to disrupt the talks and on the assumption the mobilisation would dissipate voluntarily once a deal was reached. But, as noted, some also now say FETÖ played a role in the PKK mobilisation, alleging that FETÖ-linked governors, police chiefs and military commanders acted in ways that put the government in a difficult situation, including purposely underreporting the gravity of the security problem in the south east. Police suspected of FETÖ ties were disproportionately represented in the south east: in the wake of the December 2013 corruption allegations against the government, which officials equated with a “judicial coup”, the authorities dispatched those with suspected ties to the Gülenist movement to the area – a decision in line with the traditional practice of sending untrustworthy bureaucrats to the east to live in relatively poor conditions. The paradoxical result, according to Ankara-based state officials, was to put “risky” cadres in positions from where they could undermine the political leadership. Some local AKP politicians are convinced that “contacts” between FETÖ-linked police and soldiers stationed in the south east started in 2011. Osman Doğru, the former AKP district head of Nusaybin, said: FETÖ-linked law enforcement personnel turned a blind eye to the entrenchment of PKK in the town. They did not inform their superiors [in Ankara]. The governor would even inform PKK of the whistle-blowers [within PKK, who gave information to the police and the military] so that PKK could punish them. The police allowed PKK to threaten people to vote for HDP in the 7 June elections. It is no coincidence that the former governor, various commanders/generals, police chiefs and chiefs of intelligence units were later arrested for being linked to FETÖ. After the failed coup, such convictions spread more widely in Ankara. Of the four Mardin governors from 2011 to 2016, two have been arrested, and one suspended on FETÖ-related charges. The fourth, Ömer Faruk Koçak, who served between February 2015 and May 2016, is now governor in the western Aydın province and vocal in asserting a FETÖ role in the failure to prevent PKK mobilisation in Nusaybin. Koçak told the press a month after the coup attempt that FETÖ-linked military commanders had caused the district’s high death toll. Three of those in charge of Nusaybin operations were arrested. He said he warned these generals that the PKK had dug tunnels in the neighbourhoods to move fighters and weapons, but they did not act, allegedly because they wanted to produce chaos, including by not responding to his requests for military help when clashes became too intense for the police, leading to a six-month delay in producing a sufficient security response. He also said they tried to get him to authorise attacks on civilian areas and house demolitions and intentionally drove up casualties by sending troops to streets where they would be killed. In contrast, Kurdish movement representatives vehemently deny FETÖ responsibility for the conflict getting out of hand. Those within or close to the HDP do not deny the existence of a Gülen network but say it was always nationalistic and thus had done the most harm to their movement, so collaboration was out of the question. “Even if Gülen … affiliates were adversarial toward the AKP or used their media outlets for negative AKP coverage in the run up to the June elections, this cannot be construed as collaboration per se with the Kurdish movement”, one argued. Some critics of the AKP from traditional nationalist circles, such as those within or close to the MHP and the military, also point out that – far from the government being kept uninformed by alleged Gülenists nestled in the state apparatus – much information was being sent to the AKP and state institutions about PKK activity, and the state was aware of PKK mobilisation during the peace process. A very different narrative of infiltration is propagated among the Kurdish movement by critics who argue that the state orchestrated the escalation in the south east. They say the state started to plot from the time the AKP lost its parliamentary majority in the June elections to create grounds for dealing severe blows to districts considered PKK hotbeds and eliminate the political threat the HDP posed to AKP majority rule. Ankara allegedly was determined to nip Kurdish aspirations in the bud because of its concern over the rise to prominence of the YPG/PYD in Syria and in light of the AKP decision to seek nationalist votes for its project of establishing an executive presidential system. Under this view, the government allowed PKK-linked militants to mobilise for an urban fight so as to have an excuse to crack down on them. “Why else would the state watch for 45 days as trenches and barricades were being built by the neighbourhood youth in Nusaybin”, a DBP member asked, “and allow the people to think that PKK was going to win this battle”? Kurdish movement representatives say the state calculated that holding off as the PKK mobilised would embolden the insurgents to pursue self-rule initiatives that could then justify a crackdown; criminalisation of HDP politicians; and destruction of neighbourhoods that would subsequently enable a security-oriented reconstruction – wide streets, large police stations – that would make it impossible for the PKK to prevent future state access to districts. Conflict narratives involving infiltration and betrayal abound in Nusaybin, where a sense that “agents” are everywhere is prevalent. This is compounded by official pressure to express only the government narrative in public; alternative views are seen as unpatriotic or charged as criminal acts “supporting terrorist interests” or other offences against state authorities. In the absence of a free and open debate and with critical voices curtailed, it may take years to learn the real reasons for state and PKK strategies. Until then, speculation/conspiracy theories will compound the feelings of many that they are victims of games by big players that destroyed their livelihoods. III.Crackdown on the Kurdish Movement Ankara has systematically sought to silence, discredit and marginalise the HDP and its DBP sister party, particularly after the June 2015 parliamentary election in which HDP received 13 per cent of the national vote and the AKP lost its absolute majority. Most unprecedented has been removal of elected DBP mayors and the transfer of their responsibilities to governors or district governors already in office under a September 2016 amendment of the law on municipalities that allows trustees to be appointed to substitute for elected mayors or municipal council members “who have engaged in or supported terrorism”. The removal of Kurdish movement representatives was followed by widespread purges of municipal staff on charges of PKK affiliation after the declaration of emergency rule in July 2016. So far, 136 DBP co-mayors have been removed, 84 of whom have been arrested, while the interior ministry has appointed 83 trustees to run relevant municipalities. The government justified the municipal upheavals as necessary to establish public order and security as well as provide better service. But the removal of elected figures and staff with local familiarity has had concrete negative impacts, particularly on use of the Kurdish language and access to services related to women’s needs. Nationally, HDP parliamentarians and locally HDP branch officers have been victims of a crackdown, coinciding with the 16 April referendum campaign. The state also has sought to empower alternative Kurdish actors in an effort to drive a wedge between Kurdish movement representatives and their supporters. That there have not been large street protests against the crackdown has led to state/AKP assumptions that support for the movement is diminishing, but Crisis Group field research suggests that a critical mass in the region disapproves of the current state policies and continues to back the Kurdish movement. A.Dismissals from Municipalities and Relative Public Silence In the last local elections (2014), the DBP won at the provincial level. Ahmet Türk, one of the Kurdish movement’s most moderate and inclusive figures, became mayor of Mardin metropolitan municipality. The DBP also won seven of Mardin’s nine districts, the AKP two. Today, however, the metropolitan municipality and the seven district municipalities are run by state-appointed trustees. Türk was arrested in November 2016, charged with “providing money to PKK and being a member of the PKK”. He was released on 3 February 2017. Sara Aydın and Cengiz Kök, co-mayors of Nusaybin, where DBP won 78.8 per cent of the vote, are in prison, charged with supporting the PKK. After the appointment of trustees, many municipality employees were suspended for alleged connections to the PKK/Kurdistan Communities Union (KCK). A 22 November 2016 executive decree dismissed 413 employees of municipalities across Mardin on the same charges. Nusaybin municipality lost half its personnel that day. The UN Human Rights Office (OHCHR) has underlined concern that “the collective nature of the dismissals and suspensions pose the questions of legality of the grounds for dismissals and the arbitrariness of the precautionary nature of announced dismissals [as well as], the absence of a legal remedy …”. Ahmet Türk told Crisis Group: Informants supposedly gave information that money was being funnelled to the PKK from my municipality. But we always carried out all our tenders openly and transparently. We have been inspected regularly. There was no irregularity. They also said money was cut from workers’ salaries to send to the PKK. To-tally groundless. They alleged we had hired people close to the PKK, but every family in the region has a member close to the PKK, so, if they want to try to find links, they always can.… An explosion was carried out by PKK that involved our municipality disinfestation truck. I had reported that this truck had been confiscated hours before. They accused me anyway. HDP local officials assert charges are based on unidentified informants because inspections of activities and accounts found no wrongdoing. An ex-employee said she was purged on informant information, “but we believe it was totally arbitrary. Saying there was a secret informant is just a way to proceed without evidence”. While the HDP is the Kurdish movement’s main legal political actor, the DBP operates at the local administration/municipality level on its behalf and is known to be more hardline, arguably with closer PKK links. Various moderate HDP figures hold that PKK sympathisers in the DBP municipalities across the region acted with the insurgency by declaring autonomy and igniting “self-defence”-oriented violence, using municipal personnel to aid militants with material and logistical support. This in turn, they argue, gave the state the excuse to remove elected representatives. The many staff who have not only lost jobs but been dismissed from professions cannot find other work, so have trouble sustaining themselves and sending their children to school. As one explained, the process of appealing dismissal has been in flux, necessitating multiple renewed applications, most recently with the announcement of a central commission in January that is not yet operational. Given how slow judicial processes are – particularly after the post-coup purges of prosecutors and judges and the unwillingness of lawyers to take up terrorism-charge cases – there is little confidence in legal remedies. And court cases, of course, require money. Locals sympathetic to the HDP view all this as “punishment” geared to them. A dismissed municipal employee said: I think this is all an effort to create obstacles, stall processes, gain time, so that we cannot apply to the ECHR [European Court of Human Rights] for a long time. It is also an effort to frustrate and create fatigue among us. In this region we already de facto lived under emergency rule, now it is the emergency rule of the emergency rule. A local functionary of HDP’s Mardin branch described crackdown consequences: Most who work for our party are in prison. The number of police per capita here has skyrocketed. Those of us not in prison are subject to intimidation and harassment. They disperse our party meetings saying they are illegal and search our party office. They use emergency rule to disperse any gathering. We cannot express ourselves …. Security forces collected 16,000 of our 2017 calendars be-cause they had the picture of Demirtaş [imprisoned HDP co-chair] on the cover. Why this level of crackdown? The aim is to get people to give up, … to shut them up, to marginalise, criminalise them. They want … the connection between our HQ and the field to be severed. This is why they are arresting our party’s employees. We are the only force against dictatorship, and they want us to give up … for the sake of the president’s power consolidation. Mardin HDP parliamentarian Mithat Sancar confirmed grassroots contacts have become very difficult because the mayors, HDP district branch representatives and NGO activists close to the party have been arrested. They were the ones who ordinarily organised constituency gatherings and HDP legislators’ visits from Ankara. That said, while HDP and DBP activities have been seriously curtailed, there are conflicting views about the effect on constituency loyalty. The dismissed employees say they continue to do party work in their free time – which they now have more of – and that public support for Kurdish movement representatives has if anything increased. In contrast, AKP representatives and state authorities say they are gradually winning away HDP and DBP supporters who are angry at their elected representatives for complicity with or outright support for the PKK. This, they say, is why there was no serious protest in Mardin or elsewhere in the region when Kurdish movement representatives were removed from office. However, a closer look reveals that the restrictive environment is an important reason for the silence; indeed among some elements, being marginalised has firmed up support for the movement. In light of the limited space for expression of dissent and the crackdown that has imprisoned figures who might mobilise such dissent, there is no straightforward way to gauge public sentiment. HDP supporters say the main reasons for silence are fear of persecution and lack of conviction that protest can bring positive change. Where locals organised protest or issued statements, some faced dismissal, detention or closure of their organisations, and that now apparently deters others from taking to the streets. The heavy security presence is also a deterrent. The municipality building’s high walls and barbed wire and the tanks that surround it to guard against a PKK attack are reminders that calm may be skin-deep. A local described a feeling that the municipality is run by “invaders”: “They erect so many Turkish flags that it is as if they didn’t think this was part of Turkey before, and now they have taken it”. Some disillusionment at the apparent futility of HDP political efforts also has contributed to contradictory leanings among locals essentially aligned with the Kurdish movement. Some, resenting the PKK for urban warfare, are fatigued by conflict and destruction and would prefer the state to provide security and address economic needs over continued conflict. They note that the region’s people have had better conditions in recent years with urbanisation, increased access to health facilities and education, improvements in state and municipal services and, while it lasted, the peace process. But for more ideologically-driven, reactive youths, escalation of fighting and removal of elected representatives underscore the need for an armed option and fuel motivation to join the PKK. An HDP Mardin branch representative explained: “Our constituency is telling us, you are being snubbed; the will [of those] you represent is being trampled on; why don’t you just give up legal politics”? While government efforts to marginalise the HDP seem to be working in the short run to cripple its mobilisation and silence it in public, it also sets in motion a dynamic that in the long run is likely to produce unintended consequences. The crackdown ignites a reaction among the most dedicated in the Kurdish movement: with political channels closed, those who believe armed means are legitimate feel empowered, playing into PKK hands. Designating non-violent Kurdish movement supporters as national security threats or terrorists or defining the “enemy” too broadly not only violates rights, but also hinders efforts against the PKK. Closing non-violent channels and decreasing confidence the state can distinguish real threat from political critic significantly limit options for ultimately settling the conflict. Measuring Kurdish opinion by the April referendum is tricky. Though the margin was narrow, Ankara has interpreted the support of a presidential system as approval by Turkish nationalists and some segments of Kurds for its hardline approach to the Kurdish movement. That the “yes” vote from Kurdish majority provinces was 10 per cent higher than the AKP’s vote in the November 2015 elections feeds into the claim that more Kurds now support that policy. There are methodology pitfalls in comparing two elections with distinct dynamics, however. Voter turnout in the referendum was also lower in these provinces than it was in the parliamentary election. Focusing on the higher than anticipated “yes” totals in some provinces downplays the considerable majority that voted “no” despite much pressure. In the sensitive environment in which allegations of irregularities are being voiced, Ankara should abstain from interpretations and discourse that increase the sense of alienation among “no” voters. It is also important to show that claims of state pressure and voting violations are investigated transparently. Some Kurds do believe that if anyone can solve the Kurdish issue, it is likely to be the further empowered President Erdoğan and anticipate his return to a constructive agenda. A larger number, however, appear to have no confidence in an end to escalation as long as he is in power and expect the PKK to resume higher levels of attacks. The local Urban Transformation Bureau of the Ministry of Environment and Urban Planning located in the centre of Nusaybin. February 2017 International Crisis Group / Yılmaz Akıncı B.Municipal Service vs. Representation – Trust vs. Trustees While elimination of political representation causes significant grievance among local residents who voted for the DBP, state appointees are realising some expedited infrastructure projects. In both the Mardin metropolitan and Nusaybin district municipalities, the authorities are trying to show that living conditions will improve without the DBP. They are aided by the fact that trustee-run municipalities can work more closely with central state institutions, allowing for more funding and more efficient decision-making. However, they typically are not trusted by the people they are charged with serving, and are less accessible due to heavy security and language barriers (particular upper echelons, who mostly know no Kurdish). Also, DBP municipality services geared to the needs of women have significantly weakened. Nusaybin’s district governor, Ergün Baysal, now running the town’s municipality as trustee, said that compared to the DBP’s time, government works much better: With the same budget, we can do much more. They financed 100 people, for example, for cleaning, but only half would really be doing that job. We have twinned Nusaybin and Kocaeli metropolitan municipality. Kocaeli has partnered to build four new parks in Nusaybin, for example. They transfer know-how to the staff here. They share equipment and personnel when needed. We have many new projects, developing sports facilities, a condolence house, a mosque and monastery, a walking track, improved lightening and infrastructure for sewage, water and roads. We have fewer personnel, but we hire on meritocracy, unlike HDP that chose on allegiance. We can better coordinate with central state institutions, increasing productivity. It may be too early to see all results, given the tumultuous first six months, he added, but the difference will be apparent in the next six, when the new projects are actualised. “Locals who judge us on the basis of service will see we deliver more than those they elected did”. This may be so. Crisis Group observed in January 2016 in Diyarbakır that lack of cooperation between state institutions and DBP municipalities tended to have an important effect on service delivery. The state knows it cannot win over ideological, dedicated Kurdish movement supporters by performance, but it is trying to appeal to citizens who may have voted for HDP but can become more favourable toward the Ankara political leadership if living conditions improve. While entering the municipality building is cumbersome for locals because of beefed-up security, it is easily justified: “The threat is real. Where security is lax, PKK attacks!” Try as the appointed trustees may, however, some elements of municipal service are inevitably weaker. One reason is that the many new staff mean loss of institutional memory; the new employees often also do not know the local context, feel affinity for the people or places they serve or see their future as intertwined with the district’s. Locals lament that they are not comfortable enough to come in and complain when they are displeased with services, as they did when their elected representatives were in office. The reluctance to visit the municipality is particularly pronounced among women. That services are not available in Kurdish is an additional obstacle to accessibility. Because the HDP and DBP implemented a gender quota, proactively recruited many women as staff in the municipalities they ran and carried out activities aimed at maternal and reproductive health care, domestic violence and/or access to credit facilities, their female constituencies have been affected disproportionately by the municipal staff changes. Overall, the networks set up by previous cadres and their social policies have mostly stopped functioning. All 96 female HDP and DBP co-mayors in the region have been removed from office. Arrest warrants were issued for 35, mostly for aiding and abetting the PKK or PKK membership; 32 of 84 co-mayors in prison are women. In many municipalities, female employees have been dismissed or relegated to powerless positions. In most districts where trustees have been appointed, the women’s centres have been closed or their activities suspended. This is also the case in Nusaybin, where the female co-mayor, Sara Aydın, was sentenced in March 2016 to five years in prison for “membership in an armed group” and “committing crime in the name of such a group”, and another year and three months for “inciting hatred in the public”. She remains in prison. A former Mardin metropolitan municipality female employee recounted: “They appointed a man as the head of the women’s centre in the metropolitan municipality. They reduced the number of women working at the municipality by 80 per cent”. She worries that the lack of female staff may prevent women from making formal complaints about domestic violence. She also said the centre’s name had been changed to “family centre”, reflecting the government’s conservative, stereotyped approach to gender roles that tends to associate women’s issues solely with childbearing and marriage, and to value family integrity and conservative values over women’s individual rights and liberties. Moreover, HDP supporters suspect the women hired by the state appointees of being wives of civil servants or police officials from other provinces, stationed in the region, alien to the local social fabric and with no particular background in municipality affairs. In light of the sensitivity attached to bringing domestic problems outside the home and distrust of the state, losing trusted municipality figures can have real consequences as to whether women seek help when faced with domestic violence or need other support. Going to the police is even more feared, because its staff generally lacks gender awareness and is widely seen as an extension of the state counter-terrorism apparatus. Given the vulnerability of women in Nusaybin, the loss of the safety net provided by having women representatives in the municipalities has come at the worst possible time. The risk of rising rates of domestic violence in the post-conflict period requires monitoring and proactive inclusion of trusted local women in all public outreach efforts by authorities, be it on urban planning, creating jobs or psycho-social support. Ultimately, though the state has sought to provide effective municipal services to constituencies whose representatives it removed from office, superior services are unlikely to make up for any infringement of people’s right to be governed by officials they elect. Ideally, elections would be held so new local representatives not tainted in the state’s eyes for cooperation with the PKK could be chosen. In the absence of this, appointees running municipalities and local state institutions should carry out more inclusive decision-making and engage the people they serve more deliberately and systematically. C.Can an Alternative to the Kurdish Movement Gain Traction? Ankara often has tried to nurture Kurdish actors without even indirect PKK ties to create an alternative for Kurds who want their identity represented politically. According to local sources and Ankara officials, this also is an element of the strategy to marginalise the HDP. There are signs in the region that point to such an undertaking. The Turkish Kurdistan Democratic Party (T-KDP), an operationally-independent branch of President Masoud Barzani’s party in northern Iraq, was reestablished after 49 years in 2014. Other legal but small Kurdish political parties (PAK, PSK, Hak-Par, PAKURD, Azadi movement, Hüda-Par, etc.), some which, on paper, appear to voice more radical demands than the PKK or the HDP, have been invited to hold informal workshops with significant clan representatives and religious leaders. Some local stakeholders in this initiative consider that influential but conservative HDP representatives with whom the government thinks it can work might also eventually consider engaging on such a platform. A leading clan member and ex-village guard who has joined related discussions said: Our aim is to create a new movement that will not have any armed force behind it, but will be a Kurdish alternative for the people in the region. Around 80 per cent of Kurdish voters vote for the HDP because there is no other Kurdish alternative [emphasis added]. When there is competition and they [Kurds] see that there is an unarmed alternative, they will support it.… Barzani is an important figure for the people in the region. He can mobilise them to support this alternative party. State representatives confirm that “creating other actors so the HDP and PKK seem less like the only representatives of Kurdish identity” is being considered. This, officials say, is viewed as a way to break the monopoly of the “PKK-friendly” HDP. However, such an initiative with no real social base is not likely to get much traction under current circumstances and risks engendering both inner-Kurdish friction and more animosity toward Ankara by supporters of the Kurdish movement. Barzani is well-respected among mostly conservative Kurds in Turkey, but in the short-run, given the lack of a real social base, discrepancies among the respective visions of the other parties/factions and the dominance of the HDP, DBP and PKK, a new Kurdish political actor seems unlikely to be a game-changer. A loose coalition of diverse Kurdish actors, if formed, likely would attract conservative Kurds who already vote AKP; more broadly, any state effort to nurture an alternative movement probably would be viewed sceptically by Kurdish movement supporters and face serious threats from the PKK. Nevertheless some pundits believe that if President Erdoğan is willing to take up longstanding legitimate Kurdish demands like full mother-tongue education, such an alternative actor eventually might gain traction. That Hüda-Par (Free Cause Party), a small Sunni-Islamist Kurdish political party, openly supported the “yes” campaign in the referendum was widely seen as a reflection of the political leadership’s efforts to nurture relations with alternative Kurdish entities. In his speech in Istanbul on the night of the referendum, Erdoğan specifically thanked Hüda-Par for its support, thus strengthening belief further collaboration is envisioned. Residents observing the clearing of rubble in the destructed Dicle and Fırat neighbourhoods of Nusaybin. February 2017 International Crisis Group / Yılmaz Akıncı IV.Remedying the Human and Material Losses A.Rebuilding Homes and Lives As noted above, between March and June 2016, some 6,000 buildings that had housed around 30,000 individuals in six of fifteen urban neighbourhoods of Nusaybin were heavily damaged or destroyed. Locals believe a majority of the destruction was conducted deliberately by the security forces after operations had ended. Many consider the flattening of these neighbourhoods was unnecessary, disproportionate and meant to punish the residents for supporting the Kurdish political movement or PKK. Reflecting a wider perception, a resident said: Only around 5 per cent of the buildings in the six conflict neighbourhoods were damaged as a result of fighting. Despite that, the military came in and demolished all other buildings. This was not necessary. They are trying to punish us. Officials say most buildings were destroyed during clashes, but others had to be demolished later as uninhabitable or because PKK militants had planted bombs in them and dug tunnels beneath them. “During the clean-up of rubble, our security forces were detonating around 70 explosives a day planted in the houses. This was one of the main reasons why the whole process took so long in Nusaybin”, a Turkish official explained. Plans for Nusaybin’s reconstruction were announced on 6 December, when Minister of Environment and Urban Planning Mehmet Özhaseki visited and said in a speech in the town, “… now it is time for the government to show its compassionate face; now it is time for construction and recovery”. His ministry announced that day that the Zeynel Abidin neighbourhood, located in the southern part of the town adjacent to the Syria border, would be turned into a “security corridor” and not fully rebuilt. Turkish officials said the neighbourhood was designated an archaeological site, hence not suitable for housing complexes. Authorities also confirmed that reconstruction of other neighbourhoods would not replicate the narrow streets and irregular buildings that made it easier for PKK militants to build up militarily, penetrate and fight security forces. Environment and urban planning ministry officials explained that as compensation for their destroyed houses, residents will have three options: new flats in demolished neighbourhoods of Nusaybin; stand-alone houses with barns/gardens reflecting previous life patterns in a “reserve area” around 3km outside Nusaybin; and housing complexes provided by the Housing Development Administration (TOKİ) in other provinces, based on availability. The size of the new flats will correspond with that of a resident’s lost property. Residents who opt for a larger flat will be able to apply for bank loans at reduced interest rates. The option of stand-alone houses – with 135, 160 or 185 sq. metres for living and 500 sq. metres of private gardens suitable for animals – will apply only if sufficient residents choose it. If they prefer moving to Istanbul, Ankara, Hakkari or other cities, valuation will apply, and they may need to pay the difference. Residents with damaged or destroyed belongings will also receive 12 per cent of the value of their demolished houses after they sign a contract agreeing to one of the three options. Following the initial displacement, the district governorate apparently paid displaced citizens who applied a monthly social aid of some 600 Turkish liras (TL, about $160). A total of 6.5 million TL (about $1.8 million) was paid to 13,000 people by the interior ministry through local governorates. The environment and urban planning ministry disburses another form of assistance monthly, rent aid of 745 TL (about $200), to displaced residents who sign contracts for new housing. These are negotiated at the local Urban Transformation Bureau that opened on 8 February in the centre of Nusaybin. Since then, ministry officials say, 100 to 150 residents visit daily. As of 5 April, 183 residents had signed contracts with the ministry for flats in the central neighbourhoods. None so far has opted for stand-alone houses in the reserve area or asked for housing in another city. Judging from experience in other conflict districts such as Silopi, ministry officials estimate that as the word spreads promises are being kept, sign-ups will quickly increase. Residents with a title deed (around 70 to 80 per cent of those who lost homes) will also be compensated for their land value, while residents without one will still receive a deed for a new house. It is envisioned that residents with title deeds are also to be compensated for half the value of their previous gardens/barns. Irrespective of whether they signed contracts, a lump sum payment of 5,000 TL (about $1,400) for belongings began to be distributed in March to residents who lost houses. After the clearing of rubble was completed in February and March 2017, the ground-breaking ceremony in Nusaybin was held on 30 March. During the ceremony, the environment and urban planning minister announced that construction of some 4,500 housing units was to be completed toward the end of the year. Nevertheless, despite diligent efforts by the central government and their local outposts to compensate for material losses, residents complain that the process has dragged along, and they have been promised a lot without concrete results. Many still bemoan that reconstruction plans do not meet their demands. Some say they would rather get back their land and receive money to rebuild the houses themselves. Ministry officials say they try to keep affected residents informed by text messages and public meetings, but locals say public communication has been delayed and inconsistent. Indeed, Nusaybin residents asked Crisis Group staff whether they had information on what was being planned and steps they would have to take. Local HDP representatives criticise the government for a security-oriented approach to rebuilding and reconstruction. They say the process is managed top down, without much consideration of the resident’s demands and needs. Crisis Group observed, however, that the state is demonstrating a distinct effort to take into consideration people’s demands and wishes. More problematic is that reconstruction is largely equated with physical rebuilding of houses dominated by security considerations, neglecting the need for regenerating the town’s social fabric and economic life and providing adequate psycho-social support. A middle-aged woman who lost her home in Nusaybin and had to move to an apartment in nearby Mersin province said: I used to live here with my family and all my social circles. I used to visit my friends who were next door. Now everyone is spread out. It will be impossible to rebuild the life I had here. They think building us houses will remedy our losses, but what about my family, relatives, social life? … Once we move to apartment complexes, women like me will not be able to leave home. This happened to many women from around here who had to leave their previous housing. They got stuck home because their family would not let them wander around among strangers, and the women had psychological distress and physical ailments from not getting outside the house. Other women expressed similar concerns, worried about proximity to health centres or familiar neighbours. Indeed, being driven from their homes impacts women in unique terms of daily life and psychological health. Some interviewees were months later still recounting their lost belongings, memories and social circles. Women’s participation in public life and mobility are drastically curbed when they no longer live among neighbours and vendors whom their family knows well or to whom they are related. There are cultural and economic barriers to socialisation outside their homes and visiting markets or hospitals. Officials in charge of designing the new compounds, however, explained that residents who sign contracts for housing will have the chance to choose flats near their preferred families, and health centres, grocery shops and the like would all be in close proximity. State initiatives to address post-conflict traumas and deep-seated grievances to enable rebuilding of lives and show improved practices have been far from adequate. The provincial head of the family and social affairs ministry in Mardin said publicly in September 2016 that 34 staff members had given psychological support to 13,ooo families in Nusaybin. Crisis Group interviews with ex-social workers sent there suggest, however, that rather than psychological support, the work was aimed at identifying material needs and residents’ personal/family details. An ex-social worker whose duty was in Mersin province and whom the ministry appointed to one of the field teams said he was informed only a day in advance: We began our work without any prior information or briefing on the situation/conditions there and what the aim of our mission was. They gave us … meaningless survey questions that had nothing to do with psychological support and explicitly told us to ask about nothing else. Another problem was that social workers centrally appointed to conflict regions did not speak Kurdish. One appointed to Şırnak’s Cizre said, “we were there for two weeks but were not able to speak to 40 per cent of the people because no one in the team could translate Kurdish. We reported this to our superiors, but no measures were taken …. We filled in the forms with whatever information we could get”. Some residents did not respond to questions or let the social workers enter their houses. Some perceived questions like “where is your husband?” as an effort to determine if the family’s head took part in active fighting or joined the PKK ranks. Adequate psychological support is needed to address the main drivers of the conflict and the multiple layers of grievances. The state’s physical reconstruction plans largely recognise the complexity of people’s needs and rights, and authorities try to accommodate preferences in this regard. While officials explain the time it has taken to begin building new housing as normal, given the infrastructure and technical work entailed, residents who are fundamentally suspicious about any state initiative tend to perceive delays as intentional. Implementation and communication challenges trigger concerns about officials’ sincerity. More effective dissemination of information through local authorities is needed so residents clearly understand how and when the reconstruction process will proceed and to avoid ungrounded speculation the PKK is keen to capitalise on. B.The Economic Cost The conflict’s economic cost has profoundly impacted lives in Nusaybin. Small shop owners and tradesmen living on border trade have been hit particularly hard. Around 2,500 of 4,500 small shops/businesses (tailors, barbers, welders, servicemen, grocers, restaurants, etc.) were damaged. After the curfew was lifted on 25 July 2016, 1,000 went bankrupt. Though the state has offered some compensation and the option to apply for interest-free loans of up to 30,000 TL ($8,300), shop owners complain this does not cover losses, and bureaucratic obstacles make access to resources difficult. A shoe-seller explained: During the operations, I lost goods/materials at the value of around 120,000 TL [$33,000]. I presented all invoices of the goods that were in my shop as proof. Despite that, the district governorate offered me compensation of only 3000 TL [$830]. Of course, I did not accept. Local shop owners and tradesmen also cite looting, allegedly by security force members, as the main cause of losses. A local business association representative said: Right after the main operations in Nusaybin began in March and everyone had left the town, around 2,500 shops were completely plundered. These were shops in areas where no active fighting was ongoing and which were under the control of security forces. The people lost all their goods; their lives have been completely shattered. Compensation for economic losses and restoration of Nusaybin’s bazaar are important not only to revive economic activity, but also to show the state stands by residents. As time goes by, belief that the state will take concrete steps is withering. Nusaybin, on the historical Silk Road, has traditionally been a regional trade centre. Following the drawing of modern Turkey’s borders, legal and illegal border trade/smuggling shaped its economy, and in the late 1980s Nusaybin was one of the centres where new electronic devices of all sorts could be found. It was also a transit hub for trade from Europe to the Middle East. “In the ‘80s Nusaybin was the Dubai of the Middle East”, Gani Bilge, president of its Chamber of Merchants and Craftsmen, explained. On 8 December 2011, Syria closed the Girmeli border crossing from Nusaybin to Qamishli, telling Turkish officials it was for “repair and maintenance”. The closure was politically influenced, however, by Turkey’s anti-Assad stance. It came four days after the Syrian regime imposed a 30 per cent tax on Turkish goods and a day after Ankara said it would respond with the same tax on Syrian goods. The border crossing to Qamishli had been an important trade route for small businesses and tradesmen, with some 1,000 people using it daily. Local shopkeepers brought tea, sugar and agricultural products such as cotton and linen as well as fuel oil and spices from Syria; manufactured goods such as carpets and flour were sold to Syrian buyers. The closure has also hit larger companies operating out of Mardin province hard. Business owners complain they must take long detours to the Öncüpınar border gate in Kilis, 430km from Nusaybin, to send goods across the border, some of which end up in Qamishli city. Turkey’s decision to build a wall along the Syrian border in 2013 made border trade nearly impossible, further crippling Nusaybin’s main economic activity. Kurdish movement representatives say the wall’s aim is to cut off Kurds’ social, economic and political relations, while the authorities cite security concerns, including illicit crossings of PKK militants and weapons. Only ten months before the closure, a promising step had been taken to modernise the Nusaybin Border Gate and turn it into a Customs Gate mutually operated by Turkey and Syria. Ground was broken on 26 February 2011. The plan was to open the gate that August, but construction was never finalised. Since the new cycle of conflict began, exports in Mardin province (with an economy based on agriculture, construction, agro-industries, tourism and logistics) fell from a $1 billion value in 2014 to around $860 million in 2015, and $880 million in 2016. Closures of the Habur gate at the Iraq border, 142km east of Nusaybin for 22 days between 14 December and 5 January 2017 and of the Mardin Organised Industrial Zone for 43 days for security reasons dealt further blows to the province’s export-driven economy. A local businessman said 90 per cent of Mardin’s nearly 270 export companies’ business was channelled to northern Iraq through the Habur gate: had it been closed one more week, all would have gone bankrupt. Mardin’s tourism fell 60-70 per cent in 2016, according to local sources. With a history dating to the eleventh century, Mardin has a rich fabric of cultures, languages and religions. The province attracted up to a million foreign and domestic tourists per year in 2013 and 2014, when the peace process was ongoing, and the south east was relatively quiet. Some prominent hotels had to close after violence increased; shopkeepers also suffered severe tourism losses. Unemployment, an endemic south-east problem, is on the rise, contributing to radicalisation of youth and PKK recruitment. A 2014 study found that the age for militants to join the PKK is between fifteen and 21; prior to joining, 1 per cent worked in the public sector, 21 per cent in the private sector, with 78 per cent unemployed. Supporting small businesses, providing more economic incentives to local businesses and reviving the economy in conflict districts would help generate jobs, bring more well-being to the region and create grounds for citizens to envision improved lives. These steps also would help discourage some youths from joining the PKK. It would be especially important for towns where not only lives and homes, but also jobs were massively lost. Such measures are vital to mitigate the negative impact of the lengthy PKK conflict on Turkey’s economy and public well-being. In the short-run, satisfactorily compensating the financial losses of small businesses in the region is crucial to restore local trust and win hearts and minds. In the long-run, the state needs to invest more in providing and institutionalising services. Holistic reconstruction needs to include comprehensive plans for reactivating economic life and revitalising local business. Options allowing controlled border trade could considerably reinvigorate economic activity in Nusaybin. V.Conclusion Nusaybin residents in the last year have experienced what many first felt was a PKK siege and now liken to occupation by Ankara. After witnessing disproportionate destruction, suspension of many rights under emergency rule and removal from office of their chosen politicians, a sense of hopelessness reigns. Ankara needs to better understand that giving physical compensation for property does not restore lifestyles and social fabric; efficient municipal services provided by state appointees do not compensate for the loss of elected representatives; and imposing allegiance to the state or conservative religious outlooks does not erode the Kurdish movement and its ideological pull. To counter the perception that what happened in Nusaybin resulted from the state’s hostility to their identity, residents’ grievances must be adequately addressed. While it is legitimate for Ankara to prioritise restoring public order and protection from PKK intimidation and violence, there needs to be constant consideration at the same time of how to avoid alienating communities. Otherwise the state plays into the PKK’s hands and empowers those who see violence as legitimate. Essentially, there is no military solution to the conflict; peace talks between Ankara and the PKK is the only sustainable way forward, accompanied on a separate track by answers to the legitimate demands for democratic rights of Turkey’s Kurdish population: full mother-tongue education, decentralisation, a lower electoral threshold, reform of anti-terror laws and an ethnically neutral constitution. An early return to Turkey/PKK negotiations, however urgent, unfortunately is unlikely in present political circumstances. Both Ankara officials and PKK figures insist the other will only compromise if forced to; neither is in the mood to take the first step. Both are looking to regional and global developments to strengthen their position. Still, there are steps Ankara should take immediately to alleviate the suffering of ordinary citizens caught between the PKK and the Turkish state and restore a sense of justice and hope. An important beginning might be made by adopting a discourse that engages rather than marginalises the Kurdish movement’s constituency, reopening channels for legitimate political representation by the legal political parties of the Kurdish movement nationally and locally and investing in regeneration of social and economic life in the south east. __________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ (c) 2017 International Crisis Group