To reach northeastern Syria, we crossed the Tigris River on a rickety pontoon bridge. Our minibus bumped along, entering the Syrian oil fields from Iraqi Kurdistan, the roadsides lined with nodding donkeys extracting crude oil.
This region of Syria is controlled by the Kurds, who call it Rojava, meaning Western Kurdistan. They have administered it as a self-declared autonomous region since the outbreak of civil war in 2012, protected by Kurdish-led armed forces.
However, the Bashar al-Assad regime has never recognized this, and despite his weakened position, the future of the region remains uncertain. In addition to over a decade of civil war, the Syrian Kurds have also faced years of conflict with their northern neighbor, Turkey, a battle that continues to this day.
A decade ago, the Islamic State organization (IS) swept through the region, capturing cities and villages with little resistance, until reaching the city of Kobani near the Turkish border in September 2014. While IS militants failed to enter the city, they imposed a brutal siege lasting months. Supported by a US-led military coalition, Kurdish-led factions broke the siege in early 2015. This January, I joined residents of the city to celebrate the tenth anniversary of this event.
At the entrance to Kobani, women in their 50s guarded a checkpoint, holding AK-47 assault rifles. Women played a crucial role in the fight against IS, with many volunteering for the all-female Women's Protection Units (YPJ). As we drove through the city, the scars of war remained clearly visible, along with numerous posters of young men and women who had lost their lives.
But in the main square, the atmosphere was festive. Young men and women in brightly colored Kurdish clothing danced hand-in-hand, singing in celebration. However, for the older generation, it was a bittersweet moment. "Last night, I lit candles for my brother and other victims who sacrificed themselves in Kobani," said Newrouz Ahmad, a 45-year-old mother of four. "It is a happy day, but also a painful one. I wish he could be here to see all this."
The Kurdish-led Syrian Democratic Forces (SDF) declared victory over IS in northeastern Syria in 2019. However, freedom from IS has not brought lasting peace. Since 2016, Turkey and its supported rebel coalition known as the Syrian National Army (SNA) have launched several military operations against SDF-held territory, seizing large swathes of land stretching along hundreds of kilometers of the border.
Turkey views the People's Protection Units (YPG), the largest component of the SDF, as an extension of the Kurdistan Workers' Party (PKK), which has been fighting for Kurdish rights in Turkey for decades and is designated as a terrorist organization by Ankara. Turkey wants to push the SDF back from its border. After the Assad regime fell in late 2024, the Turkish-backed SNA launched a new offensive to seize territory west of the Euphrates River from the SDF.
Now, the fighting has spread to areas near Kobani. A Kurdish commander in the city quietly told me: "Don't film here, we have already built tunnels under the city, preparing for another siege." In the city, the air is thick with the smell of gasoline, and the deafening sound of generators can be heard everywhere. Locals told me that Turkish airstrikes have destroyed most of the power stations, oil refineries, and even telecommunications antennas over the past two years.
Newrouz Ahmad stated that after "Kobani defeated IS...we will not allow Turkey and its proxies to occupy our city, we will defeat them too." In a restaurant, people surrounded us when they realized we were not locals. I asked an old man with gray hair and a cane how old he was. I guessed he was about 80, but his answer embarrassed me. "I'm 60," he said.
It is clear that the people here have been exhausted by war, having witnessed too much death and bloodshed. Now, the threat of another battle looms. Turkish-made drones and Turkish warplanes have already targeted SDF positions and supply lines around the city. Even protesting civilians have been attacked.
At a regional hospital, I found an injured person - Lea Bunse, a 28-year-old German peace activist who has volunteered at a women's shelter in Rojava for more than two years. She showed me a video she claimed was of an attack on a demonstration she attended in January of this year. The video shows two projectiles falling from the sky, hitting a crowd of dancing people.
The protest was held near the strategically important Tishreen Dam, where fighting has been ongoing. The SDF said six civilians were killed and dozens injured. "An old man next to me was also injured," she told me from her hospital bed. "I lost some blood...but as we got into the ambulance, another drone attacked next to our ambulance," she added.
Human Rights Watch condemned an attack on a Kurdish Red Crescent ambulance, calling it an "apparent war crime" by the Turkish-SNA alliance. The Turkish Foreign Ministry told the BBC that "reports claiming Turkish involvement in attacks on civilians and critical infrastructure are not true," adding that the SDF deliberately sent civilians to "conflict zones," using them as "human shields...in order not to lose control of the aforementioned dam."
The Turkish Foreign Ministry accused the SDF of using "violence and terror" to pursue "its own divisive agenda," violating ceasefire agreements, and preventing technical teams from accessing the dam for repairs. Syria's new leader, Ahmad al-Sharaa, is in a dilemma.
The interim president - whose Islamist organization "Liberation of Syria Alliance" (HTS) led the rebellion to overthrow Assad - has been promising to form an inclusive government in Damascus, and he has asked all armed factions to lay down their arms. Negotiations are reportedly underway with the SDF to find a solution to the problem in the northeast.
However, the inclusion of Kurdish factions puts Sharaa in a difficult position with one of his main allies - Turkey. When Sharaa convened a national dialogue conference on the future of Syria on Tuesday, the Kurdish autonomous region was absent - it said it had not been invited.
SDF Commander General Mazloum Abdi told me at a secret location near a US base in Hasakah province, northeastern Syria, that he had previously met Sharaa in Damascus. But the two sides have still not reached an agreement. "In reality, we are still at war with Turkey and its proxies. Turkish warplanes and drones continue to bomb us," he said, adding: "It remains unclear what measures the new government in Damascus will take. Their statements are positive, but they are under pressure from Turkey to take action against the areas we control."
"But the United States, France, and some Arab countries are pushing them to recognize Kurdish rights," he said. For the United States, SDF fighters have been the most reliable ally in the fight against IS. Today, hundreds of US troops remain in Kurdish-controlled areas to counter IS sleeper cells.
But the Kurds now fear that President Donald Trump may withdraw these forces, leaving the region vulnerable to Turkish military operations and potentially leading to a resurgence of IS. General Abdi said that an estimated 40,000 IS family members and up to 10,000 jihadists are still being held in SDF-controlled camps and prisons in the northeast.
"If Turkey launches an attack, we will have no choice but to divert our forces," he warned. "This will give IS the opportunity to attack prisons and release its fighters." Those women who fought IS in the all-female YPJ ranks also face further uncertainty.
Roksana Mohamed, a 29-year-old YPJ spokeswoman, has photos of female commanders killed in battle on her office wall. "So far, we have not seen the new leadership in Damascus give women any role," she said. "Why can't women be ministers of defense?"
Ms. Mohamed said that women in this region fought for their rights. They have been actively involved in all aspects of political, social, and military life. "How can we be expected to lay down our arms if our rights are not respected?" she asked.
Therefore, although some believe that stability is on the horizon for Syria, for the Kurds, the future remains uncertain. Will they be recognized as partners in a new Syria, or will they face another battle for survival?