Opinions

Last month during the violent clashes between Kurdish forces and the Syrian army, the United States delivered a devastating message to Syria’s Kurds: Their partnership with Washington had “expired“. This was not merely a statement of shifting priorities – it was a clear signal that the US was siding with Damascus and abandoning the Kurds at their most vulnerable moment.

For the Kurds across the region watching events unfold, the implications were profound. The US is no longer perceived as a reliable partner or supporter of minorities.

This development is likely to have an impact not just on the Kurdish community in Syria but also those in Iraq, Turkiye and Iran.

Fears of repeat marginalisation in Syria

US support for Damascus under interim President Ahmed al-Sharaa paves the way for a centralised Syrian state – an arrangement that Kurds throughout the region view with deep suspicion. Their wariness is rooted in bitter historical experience.

Centralised states in the Middle East have historically marginalised, excluded and assimilated Kurdish minorities. The prospect of such a system emerging in Syria, with US backing, represents a fundamental divergence from Kurdish hopes for the region’s future.

The approach the Assad regime to the Kurdish question was built on systematic denial. Kurds were not recognised as a distinct collective group within Syria’s national fabric; the state banned the public use of the Kurdish language and Kurdish names. Many Kurds were denied citizenship.

Al-Sharaa’s presidential decree of January 16 promised Kurds some rights while the January 30 agreement between Damascus and the Kurdish-led Syrian Democratic Forces (SDF) included limited recognition of Kurdish collective identity, including acknowledgment of “Kurdish regions” – terminology conspicuously absent from Syria’s political vocabulary and government documents in the past.

These represent incremental gains, but they are unfolding within a transitional government structure that aims for centralisation as its ultimate objective. That is why Syrian Kurds remain suspicious of whether the promises made today will be upheld in the future.

While a consensus has emerged among the majority of Kurdish groups that armed resistance is not strategically viable at this stage, any future engagement with the US will be perceived with mistrust.

Possibility of renewed Shia-Kurdish alliance in Iraq

After years of power rivalries between Shia and Kurdish parties in Iraq, both groups are now observing developments in Syria and potential changes in Iran with a shared sense of threat and common interests. If in 2003, their alliance was driven by a shared past – the suffering under Saddam Hussein’s regime – today it is being guided by a shared future shaped by fears of being marginalised in the region.

At both the political and popular levels, Shia and Kurdish parties and communities have had much more in common over the past few weeks than in the past. This convergence is evident not only in elite political calculations but also in public sentiment across both communities.

For the first time in recent memory, both Kurdish elites and ordinary citizens in Iraq are no longer enthusiastic about regime change in Iran, a position that would have been unthinkable just a few weeks ago.

In addition, last month, Iraq’s Shia Coordination Framework, an alliance of its Shia political parties, nominated Nouri al-Maliki for prime minister, the most powerful position in the Iraqi government. Remarkably, the Kurdistan Democratic Party (KDP), the dominant Kurdish political force, welcomed the nomination.

The KDP’s support for al-Maliki was not solely a reaction to anger over US policy in Syria. It was also rooted in Iraqi and Kurdish internal politics. The endorsement is part of an ongoing rivalry between the KDP and the Patriotic Union of Kurdistan (PUK) over Iraq’s presidency, an office reserved for the Kurds. The KDP needs allies in Baghdad to ensure its candidate, rather than the PUK’s, secures the position.

However, Washington might see an alignment between the KDP-led Kurdistan Regional Government in northern Iraq and an al-Maliki-led government or a similar government in Baghdad as not conducive to its interests in Iraq, especially its efforts to curb Iranian influence.

Before casting blame, Washington should ask itself why the Kurds feels compelled to adopt this position. The Kurdish stance cannot be fully understood without factoring US policy in Syria into the discussion. From a Kurdish perspective, the US has not been a neutral arbiter in Syria.

The peace process in Turkiye

Over the past year, many believed that the sustainability of Turkiye’s peace process with the Kurdistan Workers’ Party (PKK) hinged on a resolution of the Kurdish question in Syria and the fate of the SDF.

The violent clashes between Damascus, backed by Ankara and Washington, and the SDF threatened to close the door on negotiations. Remarkably, however, not all avenues have been shut.

It now appears the two issues are being treated as separate files. Negotiations with the PKK are likely to continue within Turkiye’s borders, and crucially, PKK leaders have not translated their disappointment over the weakening of the SDF into a definitive rejection of talks with Ankara.

What sustains this dynamic is that the SDF has not been entirely dismantled, leaving some breathing room for continued dialogue between Ankara and the PKK.

The Iranian Kurds

The Iranian Kurds, although farther away from Syria, have also observed events there and made their conclusions. The abandonment of the SDF reveals the unpredictable nature of US support for the region’s minorities.

In light of this and given continuing US incitement against the Iranian regime, it is quite significant that the Iranian Kurds collectively and deliberately decided not to be at the forefront of the recent protests or allow themselves to be instrumentalised by Western media.

The Kurdish community in Iran is not enthusiastic about a potential return of Reza Pahlavi, who clearly enjoys support from Washington, and the restoration of the shah’s legacy, which was also oppressive. Iranian opposition groups – many of them based in the West – have not offered a better prospect for the Kurdish question. There is widespread fear that the current regime could simply be replaced by another with no guarantee for Kurdish rights.

Some Iraq-based Iranian Kurdish armed groups did carry out attacks on Iranian positions near the Iran-Iraq border. But the main Iranian Kurdish armed actors chose not to engage directly or escalate militarily. Their calculations are based on the uncertainty about the endgame envisioned by Israel and the US and the reality that any escalation would provoke Iranian retaliation against Iraqi Kurds.

With each abandonment of its Kurdish allies, the US further erodes the foundation of trust upon which its local partnerships rest. Iraqi and Syrian Kurds have learned to live with American unreliability, but this arrangement may not endure indefinitely. When it fractures, the consequences for US influence in the region could be profound.

The views expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect Al Jazeera’s editorial policy.

Jamal’s nine-year-old body is paralysed. He experiences constant, uncontrollable, violent spasms. He cannot sleep through them. Nor can his mother. To keep the spasms under control, a drug called baclofen is required. It relaxes the muscles and stops the shaking. Suddenly halting the use of baclofen can have serious health consequences.

Jamal’s mother, my cousin Shaima, wrote to me from the family’s tent in al-Mawasi displacement camp in Gaza a week ago. It was her son’s seventh day without the medicine. The violent, neurological spasms that seize Jamal’s limbs leave him screaming out in pain.

Baclofen is unavailable anywhere in Gaza: not in hospitals, not in clinics, not in Ministry of Health warehouses, and not even through the Red Cross. Shaima has searched all of them. It is one of the many medicines blocked by Israel, along with painkillers and antibiotics.

Jamal now endures dozens of spasms each day. There is no alternative medication or substitute. There is no relief, only pain.

Jamal’s story is not to be told, if the likes of former US Secretary of State Mike Pompeo are to have their way.

Speaking at the United States-based, Israel-focused MirYam Institute last month, he said, “We need to make sure that the story is told properly so that when the history books write this, they don’t write about the victims of Gaza”. At this line, the audience applauded.

Pompeo went on to say that every war has civilian casualties, but the true victims in this case are the Israeli people. His concern is that October 7th and the war in Gaza would be remembered “incorrectly”.

It seems Pompeo wants to argue that the people of Gaza are just “collateral damage” in Israel’s war.  They are to remain nameless, faceless, forgotten. He wants their stories erased from the pages of human history.

His remarks reflect the next phase in Israel’s genocide. Dissatisfied with its progress in eliminating Gaza’s people, their mosques, their schools and universities, their cultural institutions, economy and land, Israel and its Christian-Zionist allies like Pompeo have now embarked on the erasure of memory and martyrdom.

The campaign is evident both inside and beyond Gaza. The United Nations Relief and Works Agency for Palestine Refugees (UNRWA) – an institution that has long preserved the status of the Palestinian refugee population and safeguarded their right of return under international law – is being systematically undermined and dismantled. TikTok – one of the few social media platforms where Palestinian voices have had a bit more freedom to speak – is now shadow banning and restricting pro-Palestinian accounts, after being taken over by an Israel-friendly conglomerate.

In the US, United Kingdom, and elsewhere, local laws are weaponised to come after pro-Palestinian youth, with scores being detained for using what should be their protected right to free speech. Laws are even passed at the state level in the US to shape what can be taught at schools about Israel and Palestine.

But what Pompeo – and those like him who misread biblical verses to justify their support for Israel and its genocide – do not understand is that Palestinians have faced erasure before and have overcome it. We will do so again.

In thinking about memory and bearing witness, the word “martyr” comes to mind. “Martyr” comes from the Greek word “martus”, meaning “witness”, and features prominently in the Bible. Similarly, the word “shaheed” in Arabic is derived from the root of the word for “witness” or “witnessing”. As the word evolved, it also took on connotations of violent suffering due to one’s beliefs, and even a sense of heroic steadfastness due to the scale of one’s sacrifice.

I can think of no better word than “shaheed” to describe Jamal and the people around him: they are living martyrs. Jamal’s little body has witnessed immense suffering; it has been pounded with the violence of the war, and he – like his mother – pushes on because of his overwhelming desire to live.

All around Jamal and Shaima’s tent are thousands of other tents. Day and night, each of them is pierced by the sound of Jamal’s screams. Inside the tents, cold and often wet from the recent floods, are thousands of other people who require urgent and important medical evacuation to hospitals.

The pain and suffering are immense, yet the likes of Pompeo continue to justify the ongoing and historically rooted process of the elimination of the Palestinian people.

The Palestinian people are also poets at heart. And what Pompeo – who devalues language, memory and history – will never understand is that the poet is a witness.

As Palestinian poet Mahmoud Darwish wrote in one of his verses:

Those who pass between fleeting words

Take your names with you and go

Rid our time of your hours, and go

Steal what you will from the blueness of the sea and the sands of memory

Take what pictures you will so as to understand

That which you never will:

How a stone from our land becomes the ceiling of our sky.

The Palestinian people will keep memory alive, just as we have kept alive the pain of Beit Daras, Deir Yassin, Jenin, Muhammad al-Durrah, Anas al-Sharif and the roots of every olive tree ripped from its soil. The Palestinian people, and millions in solidarity around the world, witnessed Israel’s destruction of Gaza. In defiance of Pompeo and honouring the living martyr Jamal, each of us will take the stones of Gaza and build a new sky.

The views expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect Al Jazeera’s editorial policy.

Ever since the crackdown on protests in Iran between January 8 and 10, there has been contention on what the true death toll of those bloody events is. According to figures provided by the Iranian government, 3,117 people were killed, including civilians and security forces. Yet estimates from outside the country have put the number at anywhere between 5,000 and a staggering 36,500.

This wide range not only reflects the fact that it has been extremely difficult to verify these reports, but also that there has been a concerted effort to use the death count to manufacture global consent for an attack on Iran and, in a deceitful rhetoric, downplay the official death toll of the genocide in Gaza.

Since the outbreak of the protests, there has been a race to estimate and report on the casualties – something I call a “Death Toll Olympics”.

Iran-focused human rights organisations led by dissident activists have been going through all sorts of evidence and testimonies to verify the number of the dead. As of writing this piece, the US-based organisation HRANA (Human Rights Activists News Agency) has cited more than 6,000 deaths and a further 17,000-plus cases under examination.

However, there are valid doubts about the speed of the activist-led verification process.

For every reported death, multiple accounts have to be examined, possible duplications must be identified and eliminated; and dates, locations and specific circumstances must be cross-checked against the timeline of events.

Furthermore, any visual evidence has to be localised and authenticated based on open-source data or corroborated by the accounts of multiple witnesses. From an investigative standpoint, the reliability and quality of activist-led counts that increase rapidly on a daily basis, therefore warrants caution.

The UN Special Rapporteur on Iran, Mai Sato, has cited a conservative estimate of around 5,000 deaths. At the same time, she has mentioned that unverified numbers of up to 20,000 have been reported to her by medical sources.

The described obstacles, and difficulties of verification over the past weeks, have been further exacerbated by Iran’s severely restricted internet access. Despite this, major media outlets have begun distributing much higher figures, solely based on vague anonymous sources who claim privileged access within Iran’s government or health sector.

On January 25, for example, UK-based TV network Iran International published a report claiming 36,500 were killed, citing “extensive reports” allegedly obtained from the Iranian security apparatus – reports it has neither published nor otherwise made transparent.

The same day, United States news magazine Time published an article titled “Iran Protest Death Toll Could Top 30,000, According to Local Health Officials”. It claimed that “as many as 30,000 people could have been killed in the streets of Iran on Jan. 8 and 9 alone” based on the accounts of two senior officials of the country’s Ministry of Health, whose identities were not revealed for security reasons. Notably, the magazine admitted in the text that it did not possess any means to independently confirm that number.

Two days later, British newspaper The Guardian followed the same trend with an article titled “Disappeared bodies, mass burials and ‘30,000 dead’: what is the truth of Iran’s death toll?” The piece introduced the figure of 30,000 based on estimates of an anonymous doctor, who spoke to the newspaper. He and his colleagues in Iran, the outlet admitted, were actually hesitant to provide a concrete figure.

Other media – from the Sunday Times to the Pierce Morgan Uncensored show – have cited papers circulated by Germany-based ophthalmologist Amir Parasta claiming death toll numbers between 16,500 and 33,000. However, the latest available version of the paper, dating back to January 23 uses disputable extrapolation methods to reach its figures. Strikingly, Parasta does not make any secret of his affiliation with Reza Pahlavi, the son of Iran’s ousted Shah

The exiled crown prince and his team, whose extensive social media manipulation and disinformation efforts have been exposed by recent investigations by the Israeli newspaper Haaretz and University of Toronto’s The Citizen Lab, have been key actors in inciting and escalating the recent protests towards confrontation. Accordingly, the fatality numbers disseminated by Mr Parasta cannot be perceived as neutral and constitute partisan estimates at best.

Despite acknowledging their own inability to verify these estimates, the media in question nevertheless put these extreme figures in titles and subheadings. It didn’t take long for other outlets to report on these inflated numbers, referring to these major publications as primary sources. Activists and Western politicians have also used them to push their respective agendas, thereby further fuelling a spiral of disinformation campaigns on social media. – In other words, a “death toll olympics” was born.

All of this has served two ends.

First, it has supported efforts to manufacture consent for foreign military intervention and malicious political action. While the protests were still ongoing, US President Donald Trump repeatedly threatened military action against Iran in the event of a deadly crackdown. As of writing these lines, there has been a significant US military build-up around Iran, effectively thickening the war cloud.

Second, the speculation about the Iranian death toll has helped pro-Israel politicians and commentators in the West to downplay the casualties of the Israeli war on Gaza. In this way, it has become a utilitarian tool for relativising the genocide of the Palestinian people.

Confronted with mounting pressure regarding the death toll, Iran’s President Masoud Pezeshkian ordered the authorities to “publicly publish the names and personal data of those deceased during the recent bitter incidents”. His director of communication has even promised that a procedure has been set up to examine and verify any conflicting claims.

It remains to be seen how effective and transparent the promised procedure will turn out. It is undeniable that thousands have been killed in Iran, mostly by Iranian security forces, amid a multi-day brutal crowd and riot control effort.

Structural obscurity and the restricted access to Iran for independent experts will likely mean that the exact death toll will never be determined. However, the more transparency can be established regarding the scale of the killings, the more likely it is that the perpetrators can be held accountable.

An arduous verification process of the recent deaths is crucial not only for the sake of accountability, but also to expose the media manipulation that is once again preparing the ground for a unilateral US-led act of aggression in the Middle East. In light of this, the “Death Toll Olympics” remains an ignominious disservice to the wretched of the Earth from Palestine to Iran.

The views expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect Al Jazeera’s editorial policy.

Over the past year, United States President Donald Trump has pursued “peace-making” all across the world. A prominent feature of his efforts has been the belief that economic threats or rewards can resolve conflicts. Most recently, his administration has put forward economic development plans as part of peace mediation for Israel’s genocidal war on Gaza, the war in Ukraine and the conflict between Israel and Syria.

While some may see Trump’s “business” approach to “peace-making” as unique, it is not. The flawed conviction that economic development can resolve conflicts has been a regular feature of Western neoliberal peace initiatives in the Global South for the past few decades.

Occupied Palestine is a good example.

In the early 1990s, when the “peace process” was initiated, Israeli Foreign Minister Shimon Peres started advocating for “economic peace” as part of it. He sold his vision of the “New Middle East” as a new regional order that would guarantee security and economic development for all.

The project aimed to place Israel at the economic centre of the Arab world through regional infrastructure — transport, energy and industrial zones. Peres’s solution for the “Israeli-Palestinian conflict” was Palestinian economic integration. The Palestinians were promised jobs, investment, and improved living standards.

His argument was that economic development and cooperation would foster stability and mutual interest between Israelis and Palestinians. But that did not happen. Instead, as the occupation continued to entrench itself after the US-brokered Oslo Accords and the establishment of the Palestinian Authority (PA), anger in the Palestinian streets grew and eventually led to the outbreak of the second Intifada.

This neoliberal approach was tested again by the Quartet – consisting of the United Nations, the European Union, the US and Russia – and its envoy Tony Blair in 2007. By then, the Palestinian economy had collapsed, losing 40 percent of its gross domestic product (GDP) in eight years and plunging 65 percent of the population into poverty.

Blair’s “solution” was to propose 10 “quick impact” economic projects and fundraise for them in the West. This went hand-in-hand with the policies of then-Palestinian Prime Minister Salam Fayyad, in what came to be known as “Fayyadism”.

Fayyadism was sold to Palestinians as a pathway to statehood through institution-building and economic growth. Fayyad focused on generating short-term economic gains in the occupied West Bank while simultaneously rebuilding the Palestinian security apparatus to meet Israeli security demands.

This model of economic peace never addressed the root cause of Palestinian economic stagnation: the Israeli occupation. Even the World Bank warned that investment without a political settlement ending Israeli control would fail in the medium and long term. Yet the approach persisted.

There were Palestinians who benefitted from it, but they were not common Palestinians. They were a narrow elite: security officials who gained privileged access to financial institutions, contractors tied to Israeli markets, and a handful of large investors. For the wider population, living standards remained precarious.

Rather than preparing Palestinians for statehood, Fayyadism replaced liberation with management, sovereignty with security coordination, and collective rights with individual consumption.

This economic approach to conflict resolution merely gave Israel time to entrench its colonial enterprise by expanding its settlements on Palestinian land.

The latest economic plan for Gaza, presented by Trump’s adviser and son-in-law Jared Kushner, is unlikely to bring economic prosperity to the Palestinians either. The project reflects two deeply contradictory dynamics: it foregrounds opportunities for investment and profit for global and regional oligarchies while systematically ignoring the fundamental national and human rights of the Palestinian people.

Security is framed exclusively around the needs of the occupying power, while Palestinians are compartmentalised, securitised, and surveilled — reduced to a depoliticised labour force stripped of social and national identity.

This approach views people as individuals rather than as nations or historically established communities. Under this logic, individuals are expected to acquiesce to oppression and dispossession once they obtain jobs and improve their living standards.

These strategies are failing to build peace not just in Palestine.

In the Israeli-occupied Golan Heights, the US has proposed expanding the demilitarised zone and converting it into a joint economic zone, featuring a ski resort. The US approach seems designed not only to pressure Syria to relinquish its sovereign rights over the territory, but also to recast it as a security project in ways that primarily benefit Israel. Under this framework, the US would act as the security guarantor. Its close alliance with Israel, however, puts its impartiality and true intentions in doubt.

In Ukraine, the US has proposed a free economic zone in parts of the Donbas region, from which the Ukrainian army would have to withdraw. This would allow Moscow to expand its influence without direct military confrontation, creating a buffer zone favourable to Russian security interests.

The Donbas has historically been one of Ukraine’s industrial bases, and transforming it into a free economic zone would deprive Ukraine of a critical economic resource. There are also no guarantees that the Russian army would not simply advance after the Ukrainian withdrawal and take the whole region.

These neoliberal “solutions” to the conflicts in Gaza, the Donbas and the Golan Heights are doomed to fail just like the economically-driven peace initiatives of the 1990s and 2000s in occupied Palestine.

The main problem is that the US cannot really provide credible guarantees that the areas would remain stable, so investors can secure returns on their investments. That is because no solid political settlement would be in place, given the fact that these proposals ignore the political, cultural and most importantly, national interests of the people living in these regions. As a result, no serious or independent investor would commit capital to such an arrangement.

Nations are not made up of consumers or labourers; they are made up of people with a common identity and national aspirations.

Economic incentives should follow, not precede, a political resolution that secures the self-determination of indigenous peoples. Any conflict-resolution framework that ignores collective rights and international law is therefore bound to fail. Political settlements must prioritise these rights, a requirement that stands in direct opposition to the logic of neoliberalism.

The views expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect Al Jazeera’s editorial policy.