As talks over the dissolution and disarmament of the PKK gain traction, one critical question remains conspicuously unaddressed: what about PJAK? While Turkey has been vocal about other PKK-affiliated offshoots, such as the SDF in Syria or PKK-backed Yazidi militias in Sinjar, it remains conspicuously silent on PJAK. Yet it is implausible that PJAK has been left out of Ankara’s, Tehran’s, or other actors’ strategic calculus.

PJAK was also excluded from the 2023 Iran–Iraq–KRG security agreement, which mandated the disarmament and relocation of Iranian Kurdish groups—including the various factions of the KDPI and Komala—from the Iran–Iraq border. As a result, these factions vacated their positions in northeast Erbil by mid-2024. PJAK, however, was not part of the deal and continues to operate in the Asos and Penjwen areas of Sulaimani, extending up to the PKK’s headquarters in the Qandil Mountains.

Founded in 2004, the Kurdistan Free Life Party (PJAK) is widely regarded as the Iranian branch of the PKK. It maintains an armed wing—the Eastern Kurdistan Units (YRK)—that operates in Iranian Kurdistan and the Qandil region. Since its formation, PJAK has engaged in periodic armed clashes with Iranian forces, resulting in casualties on both sides.

One of the most significant escalations occurred in the summer of 2011, when the Iranian military launched a major offensive against Qandil, using artillery and helicopters to bombard civilian areas inside Iraqi Kurdistan. The offensive only ended with a ceasefire on September 29, 2011. While full-scale battles have ceased since then, occasional skirmishes persist.

PJAK is a member of the Kurdistan Communities Union (KCK)—the umbrella organization that includes the PKK and other affiliates aligned with Abdullah Öcalan’s ideology. Since the breakdown of the peace process in Turkey in July 2015, Ankara has effectively restricted recruitment of Turkish Kurds into PKK ranks. As a result, the share of Iranian Kurds within the KCK’s military apparatus has risen, now estimated to comprise between 15% and 30% of the PKK’s total network—excluding its Syrian affiliates—though exact figures remain difficult to verify.

This demographic shift has elevated PJAK’s importance within the KCK network—not only militarily but also politically and diplomatically. Any credible plan for PKK disarmament must, by extension, account for PJAK.

To understand PJAK’s depth of influence inside Iran, consider this: in March 2025, during Newroz celebrations in Urmia—a region of Iranian Kurdistan where the population speaks a Kurmanji dialect similar to that of Turkish Kurds—tens of thousands gathered for a massive public event. PKK symbols were openly displayed throughout the celebration, signaling not only cultural alignment but also the extent of PKK’s popular penetration in the area. The scene reflected a level of mobilization and ideological resonance that goes beyond marginal militancy—underscoring why PJAK cannot be treated as an afterthought in any regional calculus involving Iran.

Yet the renewed peace initiative between Öcalan and the Turkish state, launched in October 2024, appears narrowly focused on the PKK itself. The secrecy surrounding the process—especially on PJAK—suggests that critical elements are being withheld from public view. To gauge PJAK’s place in this equation, one must revisit Öcalan’s earlier remarks.

Understanding PJAK’s role today requires viewing it through the broader geopolitical lens. The Ukraine war, instability in Syria and Lebanon, Israel’s confrontation with Iran, and crises like India–Pakistan are reshaping regional alignments. Turkey, while seeking a larger regional footprint, finds itself increasingly estranged from NATO allies. That shift forces Ankara toward strategic pragmatism, especially concerning Iran.

Iran, Turkey’s longstanding regional competitor, is one of the few arenas where PKK-linked entities like PJAK retain serious operational influence. In the South Caucasus, Turkey and Iran have already clashed over the Armenia–Azerbaijan conflict. In this broader contest, the Öcalan–Turkey dialogue inevitably carries an “Iran dimension.”

The Syrian conflict offers a cautionary tale. From 2011 to 2025, regional actors often tried to recalibrate their Syria policy through developments in Libya. Turkey’s miscalculations in Syria—especially its inability to co-opt Kurdish actors—left it sidelined as Syrian Kurds emerged as power brokers. In Iraq, too, Kurdish actors leveraged the U.S. invasion to entrench their authority, largely outside Ankara’s influence.

Israel’s quiet outreach to Iranian Kurdish groups has only sharpened Turkish anxiety. As Netanyahu’s government pushes for regime change in Iran, Ankara is scrambling to keep the Kurdish card in Iran from falling into Israeli hands. PJAK stands out as one of the few well-organized and battle-hardened Kurdish groups operating inside Iran. While Ankara has worked to build ties with Iran’s Azeri population—the country’s largest minority—it is PJAK that holds real ground-level capacity. This helps explain Turkey’s pressure on the PKK to convene a congress and commit to disarmament. Without factoring in PJAK, Turkey cannot shape Iran’s Kurdish file to its advantage.

Another key element is PJAK’s role as a central node in PKK–PUK-linked activities. For example, an Iraqi Interior Ministry official familiar with the content of Erdoğan’s 2024 meetings in Baghdad noted: “The PKK wields significant influence at the Penjwin border crossing in Sulaimaniyah (with Iran). Through this crossing, it secures substantial funding by imposing levies on merchants, smuggling wanted individuals into Iran, and facilitating the movement of U.S. dollars.” While there is no direct PKK presence in Penjwin, its offshoot PJAK maintains an active role there.

Will Iran Stay Passive?

Iran’s concerns over the Turkey–PKK peace track are not new, but they have taken on new urgency as the possibility of the PKK’s disarmament and dissolution becomes real. For Tehran, a fully demobilized PKK would mark a significant strategic gain for Turkey—a regional rival Iran has no interest in seeing further empowered.

Iran has historically walked a fine line with the PKK: neither fully supporting it as a proxy, nor confronting it as an outright enemy. This posture has been driven by pragmatic calculations. On one hand, Iran benefits from a PKK that can bleed Turkish resources and limit Ankara’s regional expansion. On the other, it does not want the PKK to grow strong enough to inspire or empower its own Kurdish population.

This balancing act was on full display in 2024, when reports circulated—originating from Turkish intelligence sources—that Iran may have covertly supplied anti-drone systems to the PKK. The alleged systems were reportedly deployed deep in Sulaimani, far from the Turkish border, in areas under the loose supervision of the Patriotic Union of Kurdistan (PUK). The PKK’s presence in these areas had long been tolerated, but the advanced air defense capabilities marked a potential shift in operational support.

While hard proof of Iranian involvement was never publicly presented, the circumstantial evidence was compelling. Iranian officials have an interest in discrediting Turkish drones—now a hallmark of Ankara’s military-industrial complex and a key export tool in its soft power arsenal. Iran’s own drone program has been overshadowed internationally, and undermining Turkey’s UAV reputation through attrition warfare in Iraq or Syria would serve both propaganda and deterrent objectives.

Moreover, the strategic logic aligned. Leaders like Cemil Bayik maintain historical ties to Iran, and the PKK leadership has shown a consistent unwillingness to provoke both Ankara and Tehran simultaneously. In geopolitical terms, Tehran provides the PKK with depth—geographically, politically, and diplomatically. Losing Iran as a buffer would dangerously corner the movement.

This backdrop is essential to interpreting Iran’s current silence in the face of the Turkey–Öcalan peace talks. While the talks could neutralize one of Iran’s useful levers against Turkey, Tehran may be playing a longer game—waiting to see whether the peace process holds, and whether PJAK can be recalibrated into a tool for influence rather than destabilization.

The recent rise of Masoud Pezeshkian’s government also signals a shift. His early push to implement Article 15 of the Iranian constitution, which permits education in minority languages, was likely an attempt to undercut PJAK’s grassroots appeal and show domestic Kurds that change can come from within the state. Though the initial vote failed, Pezeshkian’s administration pledged to reintroduce a revised version, and in March 2025, his spokesperson announced a bill to officially recognize non-Persian languages had been submitted to parliament. Moreover, Tehran tolerated large-scale, predominantly secular Kurdish Newroz celebrations across Kurdish regions in an unprecedented manner. The timing is not coincidental—it tracks precisely with the revival of the PKK–Turkey peace track.

In this context, Iran’s behavior is best understood as preemptive containment. Tehran sees the potential risk that a disarmed PKK—especially if folded into a Turkish-aligned settlement—could isolate PJAK or even turn it into an adversary. It is unlikely Iran would tolerate such an outcome without developing countermeasures. Whether through legislation, low-intensity military signaling, or selective tolerance of PKK-aligned forces on its border, Tehran is preparing for a post-PKK regional order—and it wants to shape that order, not react to it.

What Lies Ahead?

If the PKK moves forward with disarmament and Turkey enacts constitutional reforms over the next 3–4 years, PJAK’s political and military role could grow significantly. But if the process stalls—as it currently has—Qandil is unlikely to burn its bridges with Tehran.

Even amid the current peace talks, quiet channels between Qandil and Iran are likely still active. The success of Turkey’s PJAK strategy hinges on Qandil’s position. Severing ties with Iran and placing all bets on Ankara would be strategically reckless without firm legal and political guarantees. Unless Öcalan’s agreement with Turkey explicitly addresses PJAK’s role and offers assurances to Iran, any move to co-opt PJAK risks backfiring—provoking a crisis on a new front.