Earlier this year, the Kurdistan Workers’ Party (PKK) announced a unilateral ceasefire in response to calls from its jailed leader, Abdullah Ocalan. This was a second attempt at the so-called solution process between Turkey and the PKK that began in 2013 and collapsed in the summer of 2015 when Ankara and the militants slid back into open conflict.
That first attempt exposed the dangers of ambiguity and overexposure around the mechanics of such a process. This time, the emphasis is on substance rather than theatre. Negotiations have been conducted in secrecy to limit the impact of spoilers, and Ankara now feels confident enough to draft a law to structure PKK disarmament and returns.
This legislative move is a real step forward – but success ultimately depends on clear rules. If anchored in broad parliamentary support, the law can help build public backing and narrow the space for saboteurs. If it codifies roles, timelines and protections – while an independent body verifies weapons inventories and site closures – compliance becomes a safer and more attractive option than defection.
In a broader sense, the PKK–Turkey experience could be instructive. It may have positive implications for other armed groups that are debating their future, including Hamas and Hezbollah. It will show that stepping away from armed struggle is less a clean break than a drawn-out negotiation that works only when three things are in place: credible security guarantees; realistic routes into legal politics; and genuine economic alternatives to wartime networks. Where those conditions are weak or absent, ex-combatants are more likely to splinter, remobilise or slip into criminality.
For the PKK-Turkey experience to succeed it is imperative that Ankara’s statute explicitly does three things. First, it should provide a credible, state-backed guarantee of protection so former PKK participants are not punished by vigilantes, criminal spoilers or the rebranding of cooperation as confession.
Second, it should define a clear legal path to civilian status that sets out eligibility, obligations and the limits of prosecution in a way that courts will uphold. Third, it should fund reintegration that links ex-combatants to real employers and real communities, rather than temporary stipends or isolated camps that reinforce former fighters’ isolation.
Reintegration must be carefully designed and planned in advance if the rest of the process is to work effectively. Fighters with limited schooling and years outside formal economies will struggle to secure employment. They will need documentation, health screening, legal orientation, a modest allowance and immediate placement in education, training or work.
Colombia’s peace process between the government and the Farc rebel group is instructive here. Producer co-operatives and apprenticeships flourished where there was technical assistance, credit and guaranteed buyers. However, killings of ex-combatants in unprotected areas showed that income without safety is a bridge to nowhere. Turkey should borrow the productive parts of that playbook while rejecting any trade-off between economic opportunity and security. Safety is essential to reintegration.
Scale and sequencing must match the stakes. Although the law is central, it cannot operate in a vacuum. Short-term reception hubs should be established at the outset, focused on medical checks, literacy and skills assessment, legal counselling and job matching. Local authorities must be prepared to receive returnees so that host towns can cope and police can concentrate on protection rather than last-minute spontaneous measures.
Economic reintegration should provide not only income but also dignity and respect. That means creating visible public value and strong mentoring. In the south-east, real demand is driven by agri-processing, construction trades, renewable-energy micro-projects, irrigation and reforestation, municipal services and logistics.
Former combatants and refugees can be employed across these sectors, while those interested in entrepreneurship should receive targeted training and micro-grants. Done well, this turns field experience – discipline, endurance and logistical know-how – into civilian credentials. The shorter the gap between disarmament and a pay-cheque, the weaker the pull of illicit opportunity.
Female combatants will face a higher bar for reintegration because of cultural factors. Many women in the PKK have held leadership roles in an organisation that valourised their participation. Returning to conservative communities, they may confront suspicion, pressure to relinquish autonomy and unaddressed trauma, including gender-based violence.
The state must therefore offer scholarships to complete schooling or vocational diplomas and fund women-led cooperatives that underpin economic independence. Without a gender lens, reintegration will reproduce the very inequalities that pushed some women towards armed struggle.
Protection is also crucial in preventing relapse into insurgency. Returnees are likely to face personal revenge, attacks by criminal or extremist spoilers, and social stigma that can turn ordinary disputes lethal. A credible protection regime should begin with individual risk assessments at intake and update them quarterly for the first two years.
It should provide relocation, safe housing and assistance with identity changes where necessary. Police and prosecutors should prioritise threats against returnees and publicly report on their response. Deterrence will not be built by press statements but by arrests, trials and sentences that arrive swiftly enough to matter.
These measures can be reinforced by narratives and community contact that achieve what policing alone cannot. Community leaders should frame reintegration as a responsibility coupled with second chances – and maintain a firm line against reoffending. Municipal cohesion centres, where returnees and residents access services together, reduce visible separation.
Joint projects such as canal repair, reforestation, public-health outreach and literacy drives place former combatants and local youths shoulder to shoulder, delivering public goods while quietly rebuilding trust. As communities see tangible benefits, the stigma fades, and spoilers lose their influence.
If successful, the regional dividends of a successful peace process would be felt quickly. Turkey’s internal security is intertwined with northern Iraq and northern Syria, where significant Kurdish populations live. Migration pressures and energy corridors run through these Kurdish territories. A credible disarmament and reintegration process would shrink the space for cross-border insurgency, lower the intensity of proxy conflicts and free capacity for trade, reconstruction, and energy integration.
The gains would be concrete: a quieter frontier, safer logistics from the Gulf to Europe, steadier ties with neighbours, and a more investable Turkish south-east. For partners in the Gulf and Europe, predictable law and lower security risk unlock capital for grids, renewables, logistics hubs and cross-border services.
If Ankara wants this stand-down to hold, it should turn a security event into political, economic, social and legal changes that ordinary people can trust. Only by closing the gap between ceasefire and civilian life can a fragile pause become a durable peace. If peace endures, the benefits will extend beyond Turkey.
The Middle East’s oldest, least-acknowledged conflict – the Kurdish question – would finally move toward resolution, shrinking the space for insurgency, easing frictions with Erbil and Baghdad, cooling tensions in northern Syria, and redirecting resources to trade, energy and reconstruction after four decades of war.
Disarmament can pause gunfire but only protection, law and livelihoods can end an insurgency.
