'We are still at war': Syria's Kurds battle Turkey months after Assad's fall

To reach north-east Syria, we cross a rickety floating bridge over the River Tigris. Our minibus rattles as it takes us from Iraqi Kurdistan through Syrian oil fields, where jacks pumping crude oil line the roads.

This part of Syria is controlled by Kurds, who call it Rojava - meaning western Kurdistan. Since 2012, after the outbreak of civil war, they have run it as a self-declared autonomous region, protected by Kurdish-led armed forces.

But Bashar al-Assad's regime never recognised it and, despite his fall from power, its future remains uncertain.

As well as more than a decade of civil war, the Syrian Kurds have faced years of conflict with its northern neighbour, Turkey - a battle they are still fighting.

A decade ago, the Islamic State group (IS) swept through this region, capturing cities and villages with little resistance - until it reached the city of Kobane, next to the Turkish border, in September 2014.

IS militants didn't manage to enter the city, but they imposed a brutal siege that lasted for months.

Kurdish-led factions, supported by the US-led military coalition, broke the siege in early 2015. This January, I join the city's residents as they mark the 10-year anniversary.

At the entrance to Kobane, women in their 50s, armed with AK-47 assault rifles, guard the checkpoints. Women played a crucial role in the fight against IS - many volunteered in the all-female Women's Protection Units (YPJ).

As we drive around the city, the scars of war are still visible, along with posters of young men and women who lost their lives.

But in the main square, the mood is festive. Young girls and boys, dressed in colourful Kurdish outfits dance hand in hand, singing as they celebrate.

For the older generation, though, it is a bittersweet moment. "Last night I lit candles for my martyred brother and others killed in Kobane," says Newrouz Ahmad, a 45-year-old mother of four. "It is a joyful day, but also a painful one. I wish he was here to see it."

The Kurdish-led Syrian Democratic Forces (SDF) declared victory over IS in north-east Syria in 2019. But freedom from IS hasn't brought lasting peace.

Turkey and a coalition of Turkish-backed rebel groups known as the Syrian National Army (SNA) have launched several military operations against SDF-controlled territories since 2016, and captured a swathe of territory running along hundreds of kilometres of the border.

Turkey considers the largest component in the SDF - the People's Protection Units (YPG) - an extension of the Kurdistan Workers' Party (PKK), which has fought for Kurdish autonomy in Turkey for decades and is listed by Ankara as a terrorist organisation. The country wants to push the SDF back from its border.

As the Assad regime collapsed in late 2024, the Turkish-backed SNA launched a new offensive to capture territory west of the River Euphrates from the SDF.

Now battles have reached areas near Kobane. A Kurdish commander in the city quietly tells me: "Don't film here, we have built tunnels beneath the city to prepare for another siege."

In the city, the smell of gasoline fills the air, and the deafening sound of generators can be heard everywhere. Locals tell me that most of the power stations, refineries, and even telecommunications antennas have been destroyed by Turkish air strikes over the past two years.

Newrouz Ahmad says that having "defeated IS in Kobane… we won't allow Turkey and its proxies to occupy our city, we will defeat them too".

At a restaurant, the moment people realise we are not locals, they surround us. I ask an old man with grey hair and a stick in his hands how old he is. I guess he is about 80, but the answer he gives embarrasses me. "I am 60," he says.

It's clear that people here have been exhausted by war, having witnessed so much death and bloodshed.

And now the threat of another battle is looming.

Turkish-made drones and Turkish jets have targeted SDF positions and supply routes around the city. Even civilians protesting have been hit.

In a regional hospital, I find one of the wounded - Lea Bunse, a 28-year-old German peace activist who has been volunteering at a women's shelter in Rojava for over two years.

She shows me a video of an attack on a demonstration she says she was part of in January. The footage shows two projectiles dropping from the sky and hitting a crowd of people dancing.

The protest was held near the strategic Tishreen Dam, where fighting has been ongoing. The SDF says six civilians were killed, and dozens more injured.

"An old man next to me was also injured," she tells me from her bed.

"I lost some blood… but when we got into the ambulance, another drone attack was carried out next to our ambulance," she adds.

Human Rights Watch has condemned an attack that hit a Kurdish Red Crescent ambulance as an "apparent war crime" by the Turkish-SNA coalition.

The Turkish foreign ministry told the BBC that "reports claiming Turkey is involved in the attacks against civilians and critical infrastructure do not reflect the truth" adding that the SDF sends civilians to a "conflict-ridden area on purpose" to use them as "human shields… in order to not to lose control on the said dam".

It accused the SDF of using "violence and terror" to pursue "its own separatist agenda", violating a ceasefire and stopping technical teams from getting access to the dam for repairs.

Syria's new leader, Ahmad al-Sharaa, is stuck between a rock and a hard place.

The interim president - whose Islamist group Hayat Tahrir al-Sham (HTS) led the rebel offensive that overthrew Assad - has been promising to form an inclusive government in Damascus, and he has asked all armed factions to lay down their weapons. Negotiations are reportedly being held with the SDF to find a solution for the north-east.

But the inclusion of the Kurdish factions puts Sharaa in a difficult position with one of his main allies – Turkey.

And when Sharaa opened a conference for national dialogue on Syria's future on Tuesday, the Kurdish autonomous administration was absent - it said it had not been invited.

Speaking to me from a discreet location near an American base in Hassakeh province in the north-east of Syria, SDF commander Gen Mazloum Abdi tells me he has met Sharaa in Damascus before.

But the two sides have still not reached an agreement.

"In reality, we are still at war with Turkey and its proxies. Turkish jets and drones continue to bomb us," he says, adding: "In Damascus, it remains unclear what steps the new government will take. Their statements are positive, but they are under pressure from Turkey to act against the areas under our control.

"But the US, France, and some Arab nations are pushing them to recognize Kurdish rights," he says.

For the US, SDF fighters have been the most reliable allies 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 President Donald Trump might withdraw these troops, leaving the region vulnerable to any Turkish military operation, and a possible IS resurgence.

It's estimated that there are still about 40,000 IS family members and up to 10,000 jihadist fighters held in SDF-controlled camps and prisons in the north-east, says Gen Abdi.

"If Turkey attacks, we will have no choice but to redirect our forces," he warns. "That would give IS an opportunity to attack prisons and free its fighters."

There is further uncertainty for the women who fought against IS in the all-female YPJ ranks.

The walls in the office of 29-year-old YPJ spokesperson Roksana Mohamed are covered with pictures of fellow female commanders killed in battle.

"So far, we haven't seen any roles given to women in Damascus' new leadership," she says. "Why shouldn't a woman be defence minister?"

Ms Mohamed says women fought for their rights in this region. They have been actively involved in every aspect of political, social, and military life.

"If our rights are not respected, how can we be expected to lay down our arms?" she asks.

So while some believe stability in Syria is on the horizon, for the Kurds, the future remains unclear. Will they be recognised as partners in a new Syria, or face another existential battle?