, on İmralı Island on Monday. The visit, which had been debated publicly for weeks, revealed the tensions surrounding Turkey's nascent peace process. There was speculation about whether opposition parties beyond the pro-Kurdish Peoples' Equality and Democracy Party (DEM Party) would participate. Ultimately, the main opposition Republican People's Party (CHP) opted not to send representatives.){kind=link}
Ömer Murat*
In a move shrouded in secrecy and political maneuvering, three members of the Turkish Parliament from a special parliamentary commission met with Abdullah Öcalan, the imprisoned leader of the Kurdistan Workers’ Party (PKK), on İmralı Island on Monday. The visit, which had been debated publicly for weeks, revealed the tensions surrounding Turkey’s nascent peace process. There was speculation about whether opposition parties beyond the pro-Kurdish Peoples’ Equality and Democracy Party (DEM Party) would participate. Ultimately, the main opposition Republican People’s Party (CHP) opted not to send representatives.
This decision became more significant when İstanbul Mayor Ekrem İmamoğlu, who is the CHP’s presidential candidate and is currently in pre-trial detention on corruption and espionage charges widely seen as politically motivated, released a written statement indicating that the party had coordinated its decision with him.
İmamoğlu supported his party’s abstaining from the İmralı delegation, arguing that contributing to a process lacking public legitimacy would be irresponsible. He argued that the government’s ongoing hostility toward the opposition, defiance of rulings by the European Court of Human Rights and the Constitutional Court and President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan’s reluctance to unequivocally support the peace talks with the PKK had all undermined the effort from the beginning.
İmamoğlu, seen as the strongest political rival of Erdoğan, essentially suggested that Erdoğan holds all the reins, overseeing details, international talks and the overall direction of the peace talks aimed at ending the decades-long conflict with the PKK, yet prefers to remain in the shadows while urging others forward, pressuring the opposition to take political risks on his behalf. This approach is contradictory: It suppresses and criminalizes the opposition while simultaneously expecting them to champion a peace process devised behind closed doors.
Erdoğan’s attitude reflects a calculated detachment from publicly owning the peace efforts. His careful distancing from the initiative has been striking. He often makes ambiguous comments, such as pledging commitment to a “terrorism-free Turkey” without specifying the risks or concessions involved. He limits himself to broad declarations but refrains from explaining the concrete concessions, steps or compromises required to achieve this goal. Government spokespeople frequently frame the talks as initiatives by an undefined “state,” implying autonomy from the government itself, which compounds this ambiguity.
This rhetorical maneuver implies that the initiative is somehow above politics and independent of Erdoğan’s authority. However, in Turkey’s increasingly centralized system of one-man rule, it’s clear that such a pivotal process could only proceed with Erdoğan’s direct involvement and explicit direction.
This distancing stems from fears of alienating nationalist voters, a key base of support for Erdoğan. For years Öcalan has been vilified as a terrorist, and the government has claimed victory over the PKK, designated as a terrorist organization by Turkey and its Western allies. Now, they are implicitly asked to accept a peace process that requires acknowledging the political relevance of the imprisoned leader of the group. Suddenly legitimizing dialogue could confuse or anger these supporters, who have been fed narratives of triumph in the decades-long conflict.
This tension explains why Erdoğan wanted CHP participation so badly. The peace initiative’s deeper roots lie in Syria’s evolving landscape. Following the ouster of Bashar al-Assad and the rise of Ahmed al-Sharaa in Damascus, the focus has shifted to the autonomous region controlled by the People’s Protection Units (YPG), the PKK’s Syrian affiliate. Its military arm, the Syrian Democratic Forces (SDF), solidified a de facto state amid the 13-year civil war.
Despite repeated military operations and years of nationalist mobilization, Turkey has been unable to prevent the consolidation of this autonomous structure. Dismantling it “overnight,” as Erdoğan initially aimed to do, is impossible due to the SDF’s close partnership with the United States and other members of the international coalition against the Islamic State in Iraq and the Levant (ISIL). Israel, too, sees strategic value in Syria remaining fragmented. Wanting to preserve cordial ties with President Donald Trump’s administration, Erdoğan appears to have accepted — for now — the continued existence of the Syrian Kurdish entity.
Yet government claims that the YPG will disarm as part of the Turkish peace process ring hollow. Behind closed doors, senior officials acknowledge this. According to some reports, National Intelligence Organization (MİT) President İbrahim Kalın suggested in a classified session of the parliamentary commission that insisting on YPG disarmament at this stage would derail progress in both Turkey and Syria.
The Erdoğan government, which long demanded the complete dissolution of the PKK and YPG, now appears open to a different arrangement: integrating the YPG into the Syrian Arab Army under the terms of the March 10 agreement signed by interim Syrian President al-Sharaa and SDF commander Mazloum Abdi. This would not eliminate the Kurdish forces but instead would formalize their place within Syria’s military and political structures.
Explaining this reversal to the Turkish public poses a major challenge. Decades of rhetoric portraying the PKK as irredeemably evil and the government’s counterterrorism strategy as an unqualified success have shaped public expectations. The new process asks the public to accept a compromise resembling a strategic retreat. The proposed plan — which requires the PKK to suspend operations in Turkey and withdraw over time while Ankara tacitly accepts the legitimacy of the Kurdish administration in Syria — is designed to repackage this retreat as a victory.
Erdoğan knows that such a shift will be poorly received by many voters. Polls consistently show skepticism toward any process seen as legitimizing the PKK. To mitigate backlash, Erdoğan is promoting the effort as a national “state project” for a “terrorism-free Turkey,” seeking buy-in from all parties, especially the CHP. Opposition involvement would lend credibility to the narrative and prevent disillusioned voters from drifting toward the main opposition.
The party’s refusal to join the İmralı visit has upended these plans. Justice and Development Party (AKP) lawmaker Hüseyin Yayman’s response — he initially denied visiting İmralı and claimed ignorance of the delegation’s composition —exposed the internal panic. Hours later, the official announcement from the Turkish Parliament confirmed the visit, contradicting Yayman’s statement. This flip-flop, coupled with the absence of shared photos and a decade-long secrecy order on meeting records, signals Erdoğan’s unease about transparency.
Such secrecy bodes poorly for the process. Erdoğan himself is the only leader who can convincingly explain to the public why compromise is necessary. His unwillingness to do so and his attempt to shift political responsibility onto others raises doubts about whether the new peace process can survive. In Turkey’s volatile political climate, a process lacking transparency, public trust and clear ownership risks collapsing before it even begins. True peace demands bold leadership. Without it, Turkey’s path to resolution of the Kurdish conflict remains precarious.
* Ömer Murat is a political analyst and a former Turkish diplomat who currently lives in Germany.
Disclaimer: The views expressed in this opinion piece are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the editorial stance of Turkish Minute.