Mamo recalls staring at the classroom floor as the sting of a ruler crept up from his palms and along his arms. He had spoken Kurdish in school – forbidden – instead of Arabic.
“I was beaten in school and prevented from speaking my own language. I was five years old; I only spoke Kurdish. I didn’t know how to speak Arabic and they beat me into speaking it,” Mamo, now 25, told The National by phone from the predominantly Kurdish city of Kobani, which remains besieged by government forces.
His story is not unique. It is one thread in a Kurdish experience shaped by decades of cultural suppression – policies that fuelled a Kurdish resolve to carve out a multi-ethnic zone of autonomy during Syria’s brutal 13-year civil war that fractured the country along political, sectarian and ethnic lines. It also reflects lingering worry that their hard-won gains could be lost.
But the Assad dynasty that repressed Kurdish culture and left many Kurds stateless has fallen. Syria’s new leadership is determined to reintegrate territory held by the Kurdish-led Syrian Democratic Forces into the state, resorting to military force.
Under a tentative agreement between the SDF and the transitional government, Syria is edging towards reunification. Syrian army troops have pulled back from the outskirts of Al Hasakah. Water and electricity have partially resumed in Kobani, though the city remains encircled – its internet cut off, and supplies entering through a single humanitarian corridor. About 160,000 people displaced by last month’s battles are sheltering in schools and mosques, according to UN estimates, which further strains already scarce resources.
Siege drags on
Kurdish officials have conditioned the success of the ceasefire on the lifting of the siege on Kobani.
“If the siege on the city of Kobani is not lifted, the agreement between the SDF and Damascus will not succeed,” SDF spokesman Farhad Shami told Kurdish media on Tuesday.
Talaat Younes, a Kurdish administration official, told The National that while an end to the siege had been expected, “There has been a delay on the part of the government in taking these steps”.
In the meantime, Kobani’s residents remain in survival limbo, hesitant to place their faith in a government that is predominantly Arab and Islamic and which has failed to protect the country’s minorities in the last year.
“We’re surviving. Like others, my family is having a major food shortage,” said Mamo, who was born and raised in Kobani. “Our most dire problem is the lack of diesel, because we don't have heating without it, or transportation. We don’t move the car unless there’s something really important.”
He spoke using a Turkish e-SIM, as internet services in Kobani were cut off during last month's battles, when transitional government forces and allied factions imposed the siege.
In ethnically mixed Hasakah, where troops have withdrawn from front lines near the city, some Kurdish residents expressed cautious relief as the agreement begins to take shape.
“The withdrawal of Syrian government forces from Hasakah is the most important provision of the agreement. This is what gives the Kurdish forces the ability to retain military capacity that allows them to remain in their areas and defend themselves,” said Akeed Mishmish, a journalist who lives in the city.
The January 30 security agreement is a cautious attempt to fold parts of northern Syria into the state while preserving a degree of local autonomy for Syria’s Kurds and securing national rights that they were denied under the rule of the Baath regime, which was fearful of Kurdish nationalist ambitions.
Under the deal, SDF and police units are to be incorporated into Syria’s military and internal security forces. Kurdish-language education would, finally, be officially recognised. Stateless Kurds would be granted citizenship, and administrative bodies in would be merged with state institutions.
Cultural identity
Yet for many Kurds, security arrangements are not enough; the Syrian government’s commitment to minority rights will be measured in deeds, not promises.
Syria’s Kurdish population has faced decades of cultural suppression and land confiscation dating back to the rise of Arab nationalism in the mid-20th century. Now, more than a decade of autonomous rule in the north has allowed Kurdish language and education to flourish, deepening a distinct identity in Syria’s social fabric.
“There is fear among the population, but people are calmer because they see that the agreement is progressing step by step,” Mr Mishmish said. “But Kurds are still scared because this is only a security agreement. There is still no constitutional or legal guarantee.”
Mamo agreed, worrying that "what they [the government] say is different from what they do."
He said he has no desire to return to the days of being persecuted for expressing his identity.
“The Kurds as a people, our region, our language – it exists. It’s undeniable. We exist,” Mamo said.
