A day after Israel launched its war on Iran, Turkish nationalist leader and Erdoğan ally Devlet Bahçeli issued a stark warning: “Israel’s political and strategic goal is to encircle Anatolia. It seeks to sabotage Turkey’s anti-terror vision on behalf of foreign powers.”

Shortly after, jailed Kurdish leader Selahattin Demirtaş echoed the concern from a different perspective, cautioning: “At a time like this, reckless adventurism will only bring ruin.”

To some, these statements may have seemed like routine political posturing. However, a more accurate way to see them is that they are targeted warnings—delivered at a moment of critical uncertainty in the peace process between the Turkish state and the PKK.

Since October 2024, when indications first emerged of renewed peace talks, the PKK has been facing its most serious strategic dilemma in years: Reconcile with Turkey, or align with the ascendant Israel in a reconfigured regional order?

In the PKK-Turkey context, the broader Israel-Iran war is dragging the region back toward a familiar fault line, one reminiscent of 2015. Back then, Turkey’s peace talks with the PKK collapsed under the weight of the Syrian civil war. As violence escalated, the value of armed actors surged. The PKK and its affiliates consolidated power across Syrian Kurdish areas and began receiving U.S. support. A new de facto entity, Rojava, emerged. Against this backdrop, Ankara’s proposed political settlement lost its appeal, and the first PKK-Turkey peace process collapsed.

Now, nearly a decade later, a second attempt at peace is once again being tested—this time, by a full-scale regional war.

We don’t yet know what, if any, formal offer has been made to the PKK—but it’s increasingly clear who is signaling interest: Israel.

The Iran Connection Frays

Officially, there is no crisis. The PKK’s Qandil leadership issued a measured statement regarding the Israel-Iran conflict, echoing Abdullah Öcalan’s longstanding position: “Everyone must now understand that war is not a solution. War policies must be abandoned. We believe problems should be solved through democratic politics and negotiation, as Leader Apo has outlined.”

This may seem neutral on the surface. But given that PKK camps in Qandil sit just across from Iranian military outposts, the statement carries significant weight. For over a decade, the PKK has upheld a tacit non-aggression understanding with Iran. In fact, its Iranian wing, PJAK, unilaterally ended its insurgency in 2011 right when the Syrian civil war started, despite Tehran’s record of executing Kurdish activists. The reason was strategic: the early phase of the Syrian civil war offered a valuable exchange. Iran and Assad quietly handed over control of Kurdish-majority areas to the PKK-aligned YPG in return for YPG neutrality. It was the beginning of Rojava.

This realignment opened a new chapter. The PKK’s Syrian affiliate, the PYD, rapidly gained prominence. Leaders like Salih Muslim and Mazloum Kobani returned to Syria, the YPG was established, and by 2013-14, Iranian and Syrian forces had withdrawn from Kurdish-majority areas, effectively ceding Rojava to PKK control. For the first time since its founding in 1978, the PKK controlled substantial territory.

That deal gave the PKK meaningful territorial control and reoriented the group toward an Iran-backed axis, which coordinated PKK activities across Syria and Iraq—until October 7, 2023.

After Hamas’s attack and Israel’s military response, the geopolitical terrain shifted dramatically. Iran’s position in Syria weakened, and its broader regional influence began to erode. PJAK resurfaced, held a congress, issued statements critical of Iran, and distanced itself from Öcalan’s disarmament line. These were not marginal statements—they were calculated signals.

Simultaneously, PKK figures began offering indirect commentary on Israel’s regional strategy. Mustafa Karasu, a senior commander, observed: “Israel cannot sustain a regional strategy based purely on military force and external alliances. Its security depends on building democratic relations with the peoples of the region.”

At the same time, reports began surfacing of Israeli efforts to reach out to Syrian Kurdish actors—probing for new footholds. In this context, Turkey’s decision to reinitiate the peace process was not merely domestic policy—it was a geopolitical intervention aimed at offering the PKK a third path: political reintegration within Turkey rather than proxy service for foreign powers.

Initially, with regional dynamics shifting and Öcalan’s influence resurging, the PKK appeared receptive. Public statements followed, with the PKK even holding a conference in which it decided to lay down arms amid renewed political engagement. However, the strategic calculus has shifted once again.

Israel’s campaign inside Iran has escalated dramatically—precision strikes have killed multiple senior commanders in a matter of days. Netanyahu has openly begun calling for regime change in Tehran.

Concurrently, Kurdish groups historically opposed to Iran, such as the KDP-aligned KDPI and PAK, are visibly mobilizing in anticipation of a regional power vacuum and actively seeking to build contact with Israel. Meanwhile, PJAK has also hinted it may resume armed struggle, and one of its leaders recently gave an interview to an Israeli newspaper. Among all these groups, PJAK stands out: it’s the only Iranian Kurdish faction with a disciplined military structure and operational footprint inside Iran.

If Israel seriously pursues regime change, the PKK represents the most capable Kurdish force along the Iranian border. Examining territorial control along Iran’s border with the Kurdistan Region reveals that only the PKK and PJAK maintain control over much of the mountainous terrain stretching from the Qandil Mountains to Penjwen in southern Sulaimani province. Other groups such as KDPI and Komala abandoned nearly all their border camps under KRG pressure a year ago as part of an Iraq-Iran security agreement.

Tehran suspects that Israel’s drone strikes on border areas may not just be punitive, but tactical—designed to clear corridors for Iranian Kurdish infiltration. Iran fears a domino scenario in which localized losses along the border could cascade throughout the country, ultimately triggering regime collapse.

For the PKK, this presents a strategic dilemma: the disarmament option, which until recently appeared feasible, must now be weighed against an uncertain but potentially transformative conflict. An organization whose history is rooted in exploiting chaotic openings may be tempted to gamble, envisioning an Iranian “Rojava” as the next frontier.

So far, the PKK has avoided overtly joining Israeli plans. But should it pivot in that direction, the ideological rupture would be enormous.

The PKK was born out of the anti-imperialist Turkish left. It trained in Palestinian camps. Öcalan himself was first arrested while protesting the assassination of Mahir Çayan, who had killed an Israeli diplomat. To align now, however pragmatically, with Israel would mark a profound break from its origins.

Still, pragmatism has always defined the PKK’s evolution. And once again, it faces a crossroads.

As Netanyahu’s government pursues regime change in Iran, PKK participation could indeed encircle Turkey at its most vulnerable point—the Kurdish-majority southeast—thereby constraining Turkey’s regional power projection ambitions.

If instead it accepts the Turkish offer, it could become a legal political actor and even a long-term pillar in Turkey’s own regional power projection.

Some Kurdish circles already speculate that Öcalan favors the latter path. Critics suggest Turkey is trying to use Öcalan to influence PJAK and fold it into a Turkish-aligned framework—turning it into a regional strategic asset.

But all of this hinges on one central question: will the Iranian regime fall?

Regardless of current peace talks and speculation about regime collapse, quiet channels between Qandil and Iran likely remain active, as do potential PKK-Israel communications. The success of Turkey’s PJAK strategy depends on Qandil’s position. Severing ties with Iran and placing all bets on Ankara would be strategically reckless without firm legal and political guarantees. Conversely, building ties with Israel while the Iranian regime may well survive represents an extreme gamble that could render the PKK geographically untenable if it alienates Tehran and jeopardizes its disarmament agreement with Turkey.

In the end, one thing is increasingly clear: successive regional conflicts have positioned the PKK at the very center of the region’s geopolitical chessboard. With entrenched positions along Iran’s and Turkey’s borders, it may prove to be one of the most strategically consequential non-state actors in the Middle East today.