The Kurdish lever and the new syrian great game

The Kurdish lever and the new syrian great game.

The news of the possible deployment of Turkish troops in Syria—and, above all, the Israeli reaction that followed—introduces a new and by no means marginal element into the already complex geopolitical situation in the Levant. 

In recent hours, Israel struck the Abu al-Duhur airbase in northwestern Syria, claiming that the facility could be used to host a Turkish military presence. Ankara has rejected the accusation, while Damascus has denied the existence of any plan to establish a Turkish base, though it has acknowledged growing military cooperation with Turkey. 

Regardless of whether the hypothesis regarding the specific deployment at Abu al-Duhur is true or not, the politically significant fact is another: Turkey is consolidating its military and strategic presence in the new Syria, while Israel views this development as a potential threat to the new regional balance. Analyses published in recent months had already noted Turkey’s interest in expanding its military footprint in post-Assad Syria, including the possibility of new defense agreements and Turkish bases in the country.

The issue, therefore, cannot be understood solely through the lens of the relationship between Ankara and Damascus, nor through the growing Israeli-Turkish rivalry. There is a third element, seemingly peripheral but in reality central: the Kurdish question. It is here that our previous analysis, titled “From the Kurdish Question to the Geopolitics of the Levant”, takes on a different—and, in some ways, more unsettling—meaning today.

The Kurdish issue is, in fact, not merely a Turkish domestic matter, nor is it simply one of the many unresolved conflicts of the Syrian war. It represents one of the variables through which various regional and extra-regional actors can alter the territorial, military, and energy balances of the entire Levant. This importance stems not only from the location of Kurdish territories relative to the region’s main energy corridors, but also from the growing centrality of resources in the eastern Mediterranean, where vast natural gas reserves have contributed to intensifying geopolitical competition and territorial disputes between Greece and Turkey—two countries that, paradoxically, are both members of NATO.

After the fall of Bashar al-Assad, Syria entered a phase of reconstruction during which the new regime in Damascus gradually sought to absorb the Kurdish military and administrative structures. In January 2026, the standoff between the Syrian government and the Syrian Democratic Forces (SDF) led to a new offensive and, subsequently, to a U.S.-backed agreement providing for the gradual integration of Kurdish military and administrative structures into the Syrian state.

 The significance of this transition goes far beyond the redefinition of relations between Damascus and the Kurdish community. For years, the SDF has been one of the key tools through which Washington has maintained its influence in northeastern Syria, fighting the Islamic State and controlling a territory that is strategically important due to its geographic location, energy resources, and transportation routes. Their gradual integration into the Syrian state therefore alters the dynamics of the American presence and, along with it, those of Turkey, Iran, and Israel.

It is precisely at this juncture that the Kurdish factor takes on broader geopolitical significance, and in fact:

• for Ankara, the existence of an autonomous Kurdish political-military structure along its southern border has long been a matter of national security, especially given the ties Turkey attributes to the YPG/SDF and the PKK;
• For Damascus, the absorption of Kurdish structures, on the other hand, serves as a means to reaffirm territorial sovereignty after years of war;
• For Washington, the challenge lies in maintaining some form of influence without being drawn into a new regional war;
• Finally, for Israel, any military consolidation by Ankara in Syria must be assessed in light of the new balance of power taking shape immediately north of its borders.

The Kurdish issue can therefore be viewed as a genuine geopolitical lever. Not because there is necessarily a single entity that controls it or uses it according to a unified plan, but for the opposite reason: numerous actors can influence it while pursuing different objectives, which are sometimes convergent and sometimes deeply contradictory. 

An unresolved issue can become a lever; and a lever is all the more effective the greater the number of actors who can influence it.

Turkey and the Transformation of the Kurdish Issue into a Strategic Issue

The first mistake to avoid is speaking generically about “the Kurds” as if they were a homogeneous political, military, and ideological entity. They are not. The Kurdish reality spans Turkey, Syria, Iraq, and Iran and encompasses organizations, parties, armed groups, and political factions with different histories, interests, and international relationships. The PKK is not the same as the Syrian Kurdish groups, just as the Iraqi Peshmerga cannot automatically be equated with the political-military structures present in northeastern Syria. This distinction is not an academic detail: it is precisely the fragmentation of the Kurdish reality that makes it a strategic variable on which various actors can exert influence.

For Turkey, the issue is first and foremost one of national security. Ankara views the presence along its southern border of Kurdish groups linked to or associated with the PKK as a strategic threat and, for years, has gradually shifted its Syria policy from simply managing border security to a full-fledged projection of power across the border. Turkish operations in northern Syria have had the stated objective of neutralizing threats posed by Kurdish groups and creating a security zone. However, the continued presence of Turkish forces, infrastructure, and influence on Syrian territory has produced a broader outcome: Ankara has become one of the indispensable actors in any attempt to redefine the Syrian order.

A real threat can simultaneously be used as a foreign policy tool. The need to protect Turkish territory from terrorism and infiltration can, in fact, justify a strategic depth beyond the border, a military presence, the training of local forces, influence over the composition of Syrian security apparatuses, and, more generally, a Turkish role in shaping Syria’s political future. The Kurdish issue thus allows Ankara to transform a matter of national security into a projection of regional power

If this presence were to become further entrenched in post-Assad Syria, we would be facing something different from previous Turkish military operations. 

It would no longer be merely a matter of cross-border incursions aimed at striking the PKK or groups considered its affiliates. It could become a structural component of the new Syrian balance of power: a military presence accompanied by political influence, control of territories or strategic corridors, training of local forces, and the ability to directly influence Damascus. 

From this perspective, the Kurdish issue could end up being one of the key tools of a particularly unscrupulous Turkish policy, capable of directly managing—albeit indirectly and sometimes surreptitiously—even that component of Sunni political jihadism that Ankara has been able to use, throughout the Syrian crisis, as a means of exerting pressure and projecting its influence.

This would clearly not be a simple revival of the old Ottoman imperial vocation, nor a transposition into the present of a historical rivalry between the Turkish and Arab worlds. The contemporary reality is far more complex.

Nevertheless, a recognizable strategic line persists: Turkey’s desire to establish its own geopolitical depth in the Levant, capitalizing on internal divisions within the Arab world and, at the same time, on its ongoing rivalry with Iran. It is precisely this combination—national security, regional projection, relations with Sunni political jihadism, and the containment of Iranian influence—that makes the Turkish presence in Syria a phenomenon potentially destined to profoundly alter the balance of power in the Levant.

The fundamental question, then, would be whether Turkey intends merely to prevent the emergence of an autonomous Kurdish entity along its border or whether it intends to transform the Kurdish threat into the—all things considered, instrumental—foundation for a permanent presence in the Levant. The two are not necessarily mutually exclusive. Ankara can simultaneously pursue the neutralization of a perceived threat and the establishment of a strategic depth intended to strengthen its influence in post-Assad Syria.

The issue thus takes on a dimension that goes beyond the simple relationship between Turkey and the Kurdish movement. If the Turkish presence were institutionalized through defense agreements, military infrastructure, the training of Syrian forces, and forms of permanent cooperation, Syria would become for Ankara not merely a forward security zone, but a component of its regional strategic architecture.

In other words, Turkey may not need to conquer Syria to exert decisive influence over the country. It could do so through a combination of military presence, political influence, and penetration of security structures, but also through the network of relationships built over time with the Sunni political spectrum—from the Muslim Brotherhood to Hamas—with which Ankara has maintained particularly close political ties. This factor cannot be viewed in isolation from Turkey’s broader strategy of projecting influence in the Levant and the eastern Mediterranean.

It would suffice for Turkey to maintain a presence sufficient to prevent the emergence of a Kurdish political-military structure—perceived as hostile—along its southern border, while simultaneously retaining the capacity to intervene in and influence the new Syrian institutions. If this scenario were to materialize, Ankara would assume a role very different from that of a mere neighboring power. It would become one of the guarantors—or aspiring guarantors—of the new Syrian order.

The question, therefore, would not simply be whether Turkey wants to occupy Syria, but what degree of strategic dependence on Damascus Ankara requires in order to consider its objective achieved

Washington and the Kurdish Paradox

This leads directly to the United States, which is at the center of one of the most striking paradoxes of contemporary geopolitics. Washington has found in the Syrian Kurdish forces one of its main ground partners in the war against the Islamic State. At the same time, the United States needs Turkey, a NATO member and an indispensable power for the security of the Alliance’s southeastern flank.

On the one hand, Washington therefore has an interest in preserving the capabilities and influence of the Kurdish forces that have fought ISIS; on the other hand, it must prevent such support from causing a strategic rift with Ankara. This creates a contradiction that is difficult to resolve: the United States needs the Kurds for regional security, but it needs Turkey for its own regional strategic architecture.

Any strengthening of the Kurdish forces can be interpreted by Ankara as a threat. Conversely, any reduction in U.S. support for the Kurds may increase Turkey’s room to maneuver and, at the same time, expose Kurdish forces to pressure from other actors. Kurdish security thus ends up depending on the shifting policies of the major powers.

It is precisely this vulnerability that transforms the Kurdish issue into a geopolitical lever. The SDF is not merely a military presence on the ground in Syria; it is also one of the main channels through which Washington can influence the balance of power in northeastern Syria. If their influence wanes, the U.S. ability to influence Damascus and Ankara changes; if their influence remains strong, Turkish sensitivity to what it considers a threat along its border inevitably increases.

The U.S. challenge, therefore, lies in managing a structural contradiction: supporting an actor that Ankara views as hostile without jeopardizing its relationship with a power that Washington cannot afford to lose.

Moscow and the Ever-Changing Dynamics of the Kurdish Question

And this is where Russia comes into play. In recent years, Moscow has demonstrated its ability to operate in the region through an extremely pragmatic policy, in which alliances, rivalries, and channels of communication can coexist. Russia does not need to control the Kurdish issue to benefit from it. It is enough for Russia to be able to interact with the various parties involved and use the issue as a bargaining chip.

This means that the Kremlin can maintain channels of communication with Ankara, Damascus, Tehran, and Kurdish representatives, keeping multiple options open. In a region where the balance of power is constantly shifting, the ability to keep opposing channels open is in itself a form of power.

The Kurdish issue can therefore become, for Moscow, a bargaining chip with variable parameters. It is not necessary to argue that Russia “uses the Kurds” in a direct and unambiguous sense: such a claim would require specific evidence.  The most analytically interesting point is that the Kurdish issue offers Moscow one of the few tools through which it can maintain the ability to engage simultaneously with Ankara, Damascus, and other regional actors.

Turkey’s own position makes this dynamic particularly significant. Ankara is a member of NATO, but maintains a relationship with Moscow that cannot be reduced to the traditional frameworks of the Western alliance; it is deeply involved in Syria and other regional crises; it maintains, as we have seen, ties with the Sunni world and with major Islamist political organizations; it is a partner of Europe and, at the same time, a key player in numerous crises that directly affect Europe; it is a rival of Iran in some areas and a partner in others; it cooperates with Russia while belonging to the Western strategic system.

Ankara is, in other words, a geopolitical pivot. And precisely because Turkey is a pivot, the Kurdish issue can be used to influence its decisions.

Tehran and Strategic Depth

However, this issue does not concern only Washington, Ankara, and Moscow. It directly concerns Iran.

For Tehran, the Kurdish issue has two dimensions: external and internal. On the one hand, there is the presence of Kurdish populations within Iranian territory and the risk that greater Kurdish autonomy in neighboring countries could fuel similar aspirations. On the other hand, there is the broader issue of the strategic continuity of Iranian influence across Iraq, Syria, and Lebanon.

Here, geography takes on decisive importance. For years, the Iran-Iraq-Syria-Lebanon corridor has been one of the axes through which Tehran has built its regional influence. Any shift in the Syrian territorial balance could therefore have repercussions on Iran’s ability to maintain this strategic depth.

Kurdish territory lies squarely at the heart of this struggle.

For this reason, the issue cannot be reduced to the “Turkey versus the Kurds” framework. Ankara is grappling with the PKK and organizations it considers affiliated; Tehran must manage its own Kurdish issue while simultaneously protecting its regional interests; Damascus is seeking to regain sovereignty over its national territory; Washington is trying to preserve its interests without severing ties with Ankara; Moscow is striving to maintain its influence; and Israel is watching any shift in the Iranian axis with particular attention.

The Kurdish issue thus lies at the intersection of multiple national strategies. It is precisely this overlap that gives it significance far beyond the ethnic or territorial dimension.

Israel and the New Balance of Power in Syria

Israel, too, must be included in this context, but with the necessary caution. It is incorrect to transform a simple, objective convergence of interests into a presumed operational alliance without documentary evidence. It is, however, legitimate to observe that a Kurdish entity with a certain degree of political and military autonomy in Syria or Iraq could, at least potentially, exert pressure on Iran and challenge the territorial continuity of its influence.

This does not automatically mean that Israel supports every Kurdish movement, nor that there is an Israeli plan aimed at creating a Kurdish entity. It means something more limited, but no less important: Israeli interests and those of certain Kurdish factions may occasionally converge with regard to limiting Iranian influence.

This distinction is fundamental, because in geopolitics, a temporary convergence of interests does not necessarily equate to an alliance, even though there are objectively situations in which declared alliances mask divisions among the participating countries that are dramatic, to say the least. And, to be sure, the emergence of this possibility is in itself something that—whether or not it is currently being implemented—signals the presence of a real, albeit shelved, strategic approach.

In fact, Israel’s reaction to the prospect of a greater Turkish presence in Syria introduces yet another variable. If Ankara were to transform its cooperation with Damascus into a permanent military presence in the future, Israel would find itself having to assess not only the traditional challenge posed by Iran and its regional networks, but also the presence of a NATO military power with its own independent interests on Syrian territory.

This would create an unprecedented dynamic. A Turkey with a greater presence in the south, a Syria engaged in rebuilding its state apparatus, an Iran that has been weakened but remains interested in preserving its regional networks, the United States grappling with the relationship between Ankara and the Kurdish forces, and Israel committed to preventing Syria from once again becoming a hostile platform: all these elements would converge in the same geographical space.

Syria would thus become one of the main battlegrounds of the new competition in the Middle East.

The New Big Syrian Game

If Turkey were to consolidate its presence in post-Assad Syria, the Kurdish issue could simultaneously become both the stated reason for its presence and the leverage Ankara will use in negotiations with Washington, Moscow, Damascus, and European countries themselves.

This is the point that deserves the most attention.

Turkey’s potential entry into the region should therefore not be viewed as an isolated incident. It must be viewed within a broader sequence of events: the fall of Assad, the reorganization of power in Damascus, the gradual redefinition of the SDF’s role, the scaling back of the U.S. presence, Turkey’s consolidation of power, the redefinition of Israel’s stance, and the resulting opening of a new arena of competition among regional and extra-regional powers.

In this scenario, the Kurdish issue represents one of the points through which each actor can influence the transformation of the Syrian order.

Damascus can use the integration of Kurdish structures as a tool to restore national sovereignty. Ankara can use the Kurdish threat to justify a strategic presence. Washington can use its relationship with the SDF to maintain influence. Moscow can use its relationships with the various actors as a bargaining chip. Tehran can assess any changes in the territorial landscape in light of its own strategic depth. Israel may assess developments in light of the Iranian threat and the growing presence of regional powers on its borders.

None of these objectives fully aligns with those of the others.

It is precisely this overlap of partial interests that makes the situation unstable.

The issue is not necessarily the opening of a new conventional military front. The most realistic danger could be the gradual transformation of the eastern Mediterranean and the Levant into a space of permanent, low-intensity competition: energy, migration, information, political pressure, military proxies, infrastructure, trafficking, terrorism, and territorial control would become instruments of power alongside traditional military means.

In this sense, the observations made in previous dossiers on Syria, Lebanon, Hezbollah, UNIFIL, and the broader Mediterranean competition take on a new perspective.

The issue is no longer merely a matter of determining who controls a given territory. It is about understanding who possesses the ability to transform the instability of that territory into a tool for exerting pressure on other states.

This, ultimately, is the logic of hybrid warfare.

It is not necessary to militarily occupy a country to influence its decisions. It is enough to be able to influence some of the variables on which its security depends.

And the Kurdish issue is one of them.

From Syria to the Mediterranean: Why It Matters to Europe

Its importance for Europe is far from marginal. A consolidation of Turkey’s presence in Syria, a new conflict with Kurdish groups, a Syrian internal crisis, or a new regional escalation could have consequences for European security through multiple channels simultaneously: new migratory pressures, increased activity by criminal and jihadist networks, rising tensions within diaspora communities, greater dependence on Turkish border control policies, impacts on energy corridors, and further instability in the Mediterranean.

In this context, Turkey represents one of the decisive factors. Its geographic location makes it simultaneously a Middle Eastern power, a Mediterranean country, a NATO member, and an indispensable partner for Europe. Any shift in its stance on Syria is therefore bound to have consequences that extend beyond the borders of the Middle East.

And this is where the discussion inevitably turns to Italy.

Italy is one of the European countries most exposed to the Mediterranean’s transformation into a space of permanent geopolitical competition. Its geographic location, the centrality of its energy routes, its proximity to Libya and North Africa, its role in the eastern Mediterranean, its membership in NATO, and the Italian military presence in Lebanon make—or at least should make—Rome one of the observers most interested in the shifting balance of power in the Levant, even if this interest is clouded by the Moro Agreement, which Italians continue to pretend is some sort of urban legend.

For this reason, it would be a mistake to view the Kurdish issue as an exclusively Turkish problem.

Any destabilization of Syria would not remain confined to Syria. A crisis between Turkey and Kurdish forces would not necessarily remain confined to the Turkish-Syrian border. A new regional war would not have consequences limited to the Middle East.

The most insidious risk for Europe might be not so much a new all-out war as the stabilization of instability: a situation in which no actor has an interest in definitively ending the conflicts because each can continue to use uncertainty as a negotiating tool.

In such a situation, the Kurds would once again become a strategic variable in the hands of others.

The Kurdish lever

And this is where history risks repeating itself.

The Kurds have repeatedly been used as a fighting force when their presence was deemed useful, and subsequently left to face the consequences of shifts in the political balance of power among the major powers. The war against the Islamic State was the most recent example of this dynamic: Kurdish forces were an essential component of the fight against ISIS and were internationally recognized for their contribution, only to find themselves once again exposed to the vagaries of regional politics.

This suggests a broader point.

A people can become a geopolitical lever when other actors have the power to decide when to support them, when to negotiate on their behalf, and when to diminish their influence. But this leverage can function even without a unified project: it is sufficient that the Kurdish issue be indispensable to the security, domestic policy, or regional strategy of multiple actors simultaneously.

This is precisely why the Kurdish issue must be viewed not only from the perspective of national rights, Turkish security, or the fight against terrorism, but also from the broader perspective of competition among powers.

The question, therefore, should not be limited to: Who supports the Kurds?

We should also ask ourselves: Who can afford to abandon them, who can use them, who can protect them, and, above all, who can exploit their potential destabilization to alter the regional balance of power?

This is the true nature of the Kurdish leverage.

In light of these considerations, the much-discussed Turkish presence in Syria takes on a much broader significance than is immediately apparent. It could be just the latest phase in Ankara’s long struggle against the PKK and against the emergence of a contiguous Kurdish territory along its border. But it could also represent one of the building blocks through which Turkey intends to become a permanent player in the new Syrian order.

If that were the case, the Kurdish issue would definitively cease to be a peripheral matter.

It would become one of the points of intersection between Turkey, Russia, Iran, the United States, Israel, and Syria.

And, through Turkey, Syria, and the Mediterranean, it would inevitably reach Europe—and first and foremost, Italy.

From this perspective, the Kurdish issue is therefore not simply an unresolved domestic matter.

It is a lever.

And like all geopolitical levers, it can be used to build stability or to create instability; thus, the real game being played in the Levant would then consist of understanding who will wield that lever, against whom they will decide to use it, and what price Europe will be called upon to pay should the regional balance of power be disrupted once again—unless it is the Kurds themselves who wield this lever, having overcome their internal divisions once and for all, 

And What if the Kurds Were the Ones to Wield the Lever?

It is precisely at this point that the analysis can take a further step forward. If the Kurdish issue represents a geopolitical lever through which Turkey, the United States, Russia, Iran, Syria, and, indirectly, Israel can influence the regional balance of power, we must ask ourselves another question: What would happen if the Kurds themselves decided to consciously use that lever?

This is by no means a theoretical question.

Until now, the Kurdish issue has been analyzed primarily from the perspective of the powers that, at various times, have supported, contained, utilized, or abandoned Kurdish forces in accordance with their own strategic interests. The Kurds have been indispensable fighters in the battle against the Islamic State, necessary interlocutors for the United States, a national security problem for Turkey, a territorial variable for Damascus, a means of exerting pressure on Moscow and Tehran, and, under certain circumstances, a potential factor in containing Iranian influence for Israel.

But this approach contains a potential analytical flaw: it assumes that the ability to exploit the Kurdish issue belongs exclusively to the other actors.

This is not necessarily the case.

If the Kurds were to fully grasp the strategic value of their position and, above all, to transform—at least in part—the divisions that have historically limited their negotiating capacity into a coordinated network of relationships, they could attempt to transform themselves from an object of geopolitical competition into a subject of geopolitical competition.

This would not necessarily mean immediately pursuing the establishment of an independent Kurdish state. Such a prospect, in addition to facing enormous obstacles, would risk provoking a concerted reaction from Turkey, Iran, Syria, and, at least under certain circumstances, Iraq.

The most interesting prospect, however, might be far more sophisticated.

The Kurds might seek to transform their indispensability into bargaining power.

This is the turning point.

Their strength would not necessarily stem from the ability to prevail militarily over regional powers, but from the ability to make it extremely costly for each of them to completely ignore their demands.

Leverage, in fact, does not necessarily equate to strength: it equates to the ability to make a particular choice more costly than the alternative.

The geographical location of the predominantly Kurdish territories and the Kurdish political-military groups places them at the intersection of numerous strategic issues: Turkish border security, control of northeastern Syria, access to and management of energy resources, the fight against jihadism, Syrian territorial integrity, relations between Iraq and Syria, containment of Iranian influence, and the U.S. presence in the region.

In other words, each of the major players has at least one reason why it cannot afford to completely ignore the Kurds. And if each has something to ask of the Kurds, the Kurds may have something to negotiate with each of them.

The transformation of this leverage would consist precisely of this shift.

No longer: Who will use the Kurds?

But rather: Who will be forced to negotiate with them?

From Protection to Bargaining Power

For this scenario to become a reality, however, a profound change in the very conception of Kurdish politics would be necessary.

The problem is not necessarily that of creating a unified political structure that indiscriminately brings together Turkish, Syrian, Iraqi, and Iranian Kurds. The historical, ideological, political, and strategic differences are too profound for such a prospect to be realistically pursued in the short term.

Something different might suffice: a capacity for strategic coordination on fundamental issues.

The various Kurdish factions could continue to maintain their own organizations, leaderships, and specific interests, while simultaneously seeking to prevent one faction from being used by an external power to neutralize another.

From this perspective, the goal would not be the political unification of the Kurds, but rather the establishment of a strategic common denominator.

Security, political representation, territorial control, resource management, relations with neighboring states, and international guarantees could become the subject of a form of coordination capable of increasing the overall negotiating power of the Kurdish world.

It would not be necessary to create a state.

It might be sufficient to create a distributed negotiating entity, capable of preventing each component from being treated separately and sacrificed in the interests of an external power.

The Turkish Dilemma

Such a development would have particularly significant consequences for Ankara.

Turkey has based much of its Syria policy on the need to prevent the consolidation of a Kurdish political-military structure along its southern border—one perceived as linked to the PKK.

But if Kurdish factions were to succeed in transforming their position into a multilateral negotiating capacity, Ankara would face a dilemma.

Excessive military pressure could push the Kurds to strengthen their ties with Washington, Damascus, Moscow, or other regional actors.

A policy of negotiation, on the other hand, would risk implicitly recognizing the Kurds’ autonomous political capacity—something Ankara has historically sought to limit.

The issue could thus shift from a border security problem to one of managing an autonomous geopolitical actor.

And this would be a qualitative transformation.

Turkey might, in fact, discover that the problem no longer consists solely of preventing the emergence of an autonomous Kurdish entity, but of preventing the emergence of something potentially even more complex: a transnational Kurdish political and strategic system capable of negotiating simultaneously with multiple powers without being completely dependent on any of them.

The American Dilemma

The same paradox would apply to Washington.

The United States needs Turkey, but it also needs to maintain some degree of influence through the Kurdish forces that fought against ISIS.

If the Kurds remained completely dependent on American protection, Washington would retain considerable leverage over them.

If, on the other hand, the Kurdish forces were able to build a network of relationships broad enough to include the United States, Damascus, Moscow, and other regional actors simultaneously, the relationship would change.

Washington would no longer necessarily be the Kurds’ protector, but would become one of the parties with whom the Kurds must negotiate—and this would change the very nature of the relationship: from strategic dependence to mutual benefit.

This is a substantial difference.

The same logic could apply to Russia.

Moscow has an interest in keeping its channels open with Ankara, Damascus, Tehran, and the various Kurdish factions. But if the Kurds were to acquire the independent capacity to leverage these relationships, Russia would lose the ability to treat the issue exclusively as its own bargaining chip.

The Kurds, in turn, would become actors capable of leveraging competition among the major powers.

True strength: not belonging completely to anyone

This is probably the most interesting aspect of the scenario.

The Kurds’ strength may not lie in permanently aligning themselves with one of the major regional blocs, but rather in the exact opposite: maintaining sufficient ties with all of them so as not to be completely dependent on any one of them.

Security ties with Washington.

Institutional agreements with Damascus.

Diplomatic channels with Moscow.

A pragmatic approach to relations with Ankara.

A careful policy toward Iraq and the Kurdistan Regional Government.

And, where possible, a capacity for dialogue with other regional actors.

This would not amount to neutrality.

It would be something much closer to strategic autonomy in negotiations.

The principle would be simple: never completely entrust one’s security to a single power and, above all, prevent any single power from unilaterally deciding one’s fate.

This leverage would thus work in both directions.

The powers could use the Kurdish issue to influence other actors.

But the Kurds could use the competition among the powers to increase their own margin of autonomy.

The Paradox of the Lever

At this point, a particularly significant paradox emerges.

Kurdish fragmentation has historically been one of the main reasons for their weakness, but it could become a source of power if it were transformed into a plurality of interlocutors.

A single interlocutor can be isolated.

A network of interlocutors spread across multiple states is much more difficult to neutralize.

If Ankara were to exert pressure on one faction, that faction could seek support elsewhere.

If Damascus were to attempt to impose excessively restrictive conditions, other diplomatic channels could be mobilized.

If Washington were to reduce its support, other guarantees could be sought.

If Moscow were to attempt to use the Kurdish issue exclusively in its negotiations with Ankara or Damascus, the Kurds could in turn leverage their own relationships with Washington or other actors.

In this way, plurality would cease to be necessarily synonymous with fragmentation and could become strategic diversification.

This is a fundamental distinction: from this perspective, fragmentation would cease to be merely an organizational weakness and could become a form of strategic diversification.

Not a united front, therefore, but a coordinated plurality of interlocutors. Not a single chain of dependence, but a network of mutual dependencies.

From the people being used to the person doing the using

The real turning point, therefore, would not be the emergence of a new major Kurdish power.

It would be, quite simply, the emergence of a Kurdish capacity to impose costs on those who marginalize them.

A people becomes a geopolitical lever when others can decide when to support it, when to abandon it, and when to use it.

But that same leverage can be turned against them.

If the Kurds were able to ensure that none of the powers involved could afford to lose their cooperation entirely, their position would change radically.

They would no longer be merely the ones upon whom pressure is exerted.

They would also become the ones who can exert pressure.

And this could have a particularly significant impact on post-Assad Syria.

Damascus might need the Kurds to complete its territorial reconstruction.

Ankara might need an agreement with the Kurds to stabilize its border.

Washington might need their cooperation to maintain its influence and counter the resurgence of jihadism.

Moscow may need their channels to maintain its influence.

Israel might view their position through the lens of containing Iran.

Tehran, on the other hand, would have an interest in preventing such autonomy from becoming a destabilizing precedent.

The very interdependence that makes the Kurds vulnerable could therefore become the source of their strength.

The real goal would not necessarily be independence

This point deserves special attention.

The ability to use the Kurdish card should not necessarily be aimed at the immediate creation of a nation-state.

It could be aimed at something more realistic and, in some respects, more effective: securing territorial, political, cultural, and security guarantees that are sufficiently robust to make a certain form of decision-making autonomy irreversible.

In other words, the goal would not necessarily be to obtain everything.

It would be to prevent others from taking everything away.

This is the difference between a maximalist strategy and a strategy of geopolitical survival.

And it is precisely the latter that could prove much more difficult to neutralize.

The Final Question

At this point, the question posed at the beginning of this line of reasoning takes on a completely different meaning.

We should no longer ask ourselves merely who will use the Kurdish card.

We should ask ourselves: what if the Kurds learned to use it on their own?

And furthermore: what if their fragmentation were no longer merely a weakness, but became a form of strategic diversification, through which the various Kurdish factions could maintain relations with multiple powers without being completely dependent on any of them?

In that case, the new Syrian Great Game would take on a completely different dynamic:

• Turkey would no longer face merely a threat to neutralize, but a counterpart with whom it would need to negotiate;
• The United States would no longer have just a partner to protect, but an actor capable of leveraging other relationships to increase its own margin of autonomy;
• Russia would no longer have merely a variable to use in its own negotiations, but an actor capable, in turn, of exploiting the competition among the powers;
• Damascus would no longer have merely a population to reintegrate into the state, but a political and territorial component on which the full reconstruction of Syria would depend, at least in part;
• Israel would no longer have merely a potential lever of pressure against Iran, but would have to contend with a Kurdish reality with its own strategic agenda; and
• Tehran, on the other hand, would have an even greater interest in preventing this autonomy from becoming a precedent capable of altering internal and regional balances.

The point, therefore, is not that the Kurds could suddenly become stronger than Turkey, Iran, Syria, Russia, or the United States. It would be something far more realistic and, precisely for this reason, potentially more significant.

Kurdish strength would not necessarily stem from the ability to prevail over regional powers, but from the ability to make it costly for each of them to ignore the Kurds.

This is the true transformation of leverage.

An actor does not necessarily have to be strong enough to unilaterally impose its will. They can also gain power when they become sufficiently indispensable that excluding them from strategic calculations becomes too costly. It is the difference between the power to impose and the power to negotiate.

And it is precisely here that the Kurdish question could take on a new dimension.

Fragmentation need not necessarily be overcome through an impossible or premature political merger. Instead, it could be transformed into a form of strategic diversification, in which no component can be completely isolated and no power can easily neutralize one without producing consequences elsewhere.

Not a single front, then, but a coordinated network of stakeholders. Not a single chain of dependence, but a network of mutual dependencies.

From this perspective, the true goal would not necessarily be immediate independence. It could be something more concrete: securing territorial, political, cultural, and security guarantees that are sufficiently robust to make a return to the previous situation difficult.

It would not necessarily mean obtaining everything. It would be to prevent others from taking everything away.

This is the difference between a maximalist strategy and a strategy of geopolitical survival. And paradoxically, it is precisely the latter that could prove much more difficult to neutralize.

Because a maximalist demand can be rejected. An indispensable presence, on the other hand, must be managed.

This is where the balance of power could shift.

For decades, the Kurdish issue has been a variable through which the major powers have exerted pressure on one another. Ankara has used the Kurdish threat as a justification for its strategic depth; Washington has used cooperation with Kurdish forces to maintain a presence on the ground; Moscow has kept its channels open with the various actors; Damascus has used the issue of autonomy to reaffirm its sovereignty; Tehran has viewed the issue through the lens of its internal security and the continuity of its regional influence.

But once the Kurds realized they could use that same interdependence in reverse, the dynamic would shift.

They would no longer be merely the ones on whom pressure is exerted.

Those who can exert pressure would also be included.

Not necessarily through war. Not necessarily through the threat of secession. Nor through permanent alignment with one side. But through the ability to negotiate simultaneously with multiple actors and to ensure that every decision made by regional powers has the potential to affect other relationships.

This would be true Kurdish strategic autonomy: not belonging completely to anyone, without becoming irrelevant to anyone.

At that point, the initial question would take on a completely different meaning and would no longer be simply “Who will wield the Kurdish lever?”, but would become “What if the Kurds were the ones to decide when to wield it, against whom to use it, and what price to demand in exchange for their cooperation?”

If this scenario were to come to pass, even if only partially, the new Syrian Great Game would no longer be a game played exclusively over the heads of the Kurds.

The Kurds would become active participants, and their strength would not necessarily lie in their ability to win the game, but in their ability to ensure that no one can win it by ignoring them.

This is the point at which an issue historically treated as a matter of security, minorities, terrorism, or self-determination could transform into something different: a genuine capacity for geopolitical bargaining.

The true emancipation of the Kurdish factor would therefore not consist in withdrawing from competition among the great powers, but in transforming its position within that competition into an autonomous source of negotiating power.

At that point, the Kurds would no longer be merely one of the variables in the new Levantine order. They could become one of the actors capable of determining its balance.

The leverage, then, would change hands.

And perhaps this is precisely the most important turning point in the new Syrian Great Game: not the moment when one power decides to use the Kurdish issue against another, but the moment when the Kurds realize that they, too, can take advantage of the rivalry among the powers.

No longer a lever in the hands of others. 

A lever in the hands of the Kurds themselves