In 2012, a year after the civil war began in the rest of the country, Kurdish forces took advantage of the withdrawal of Bashar al-Assad’s troops from some northeastern areas to establish a form of political autonomy.
Struggles
People locally say that the move towards autonomy has been influenced by the ideas of Abdullah Öcalan, the leader of the Kurdistan Workers’ Party (PKK), who has been imprisoned by Turkey since 1999. Members of the community here also say that the PKK integrated women into its ranks from the earliest days and initiated the development of Jineolojî, “the science of women”.
Öcalan this month called on PKK members to disband and disarm. The PKK is proscribed as a terrorist organisation by the UK, the EU and the United States. The UK government states: “The PKK is banned in Turkey and designated as a terrorist organisation. It has been proscribed in the UK since March 2001 under the Terrorism Act 2000.”
Somayeh Rostampour, a researcher, explains that this is “a critical approach to mainstream feminism, which is often viewed as Eurocentric and elitist.”
Verona Evdke, co-president of the Ecology Academy of the Autonomous Administration of North and East Syria, told The Ecologist: “Since the beginning of the Rojava revolution, environmental and women’s rights have been two fundamental pillars in building a new society.
Struggles
“We believe that the exploitation of nature is part of the same system that oppresses women—a patriarchal, capitalist, and colonial system.”
According to her, challenges remain numerous, but the idea that ecological and feminist struggles are inextricably linked is gaining traction, especially among young people.
“We cannot talk about women’s liberation without linking it to the liberation of the land—and vice versa,” insists the head of the environmental diplomacy department, who highlights the importance of ecological projects created by and for women, like those in Raqqa.
Pusaina Mohamad, on her way to the dusty garden where flowers and shrubs struggle to thrive under the orange haze, argues: “Women naturally have a strong connection to nature; they are more attuned to the environment than men.
“Here, for example, we’re trying to involve them in the city’s reforestation efforts. We’re also planning to start a planting project in a park that women will exclusively lead.”
Ecology
On the road northwest of Rojava, arid landscapes stretch as far as the eye can see. The sky darkens—another storm looms, threatening the remaining signs of life between the villages of this autonomous region.
The town of Oudah is near Qamishli and lies more than 260 kilometers from Raqqa. Here, too, trees are scarce.
A farm managed by Kongra Star, a women’s organisation founded in 2005, has taken root in the heart of the desert. It sits near an oil refinery that was bombed by the Turkish army in January 2024.
“We suffered major damage from the strikes… The soil needs to absorb and regenerate,” notes Nisrine Ahmad, co-director of the farm and a member of Kongra Star.
As she moves among the flourishing tomato plants, Nisrine observes that about thirty women work there—a number that has doubled in the past seven years.
Knowledge
“Our goal is to involve as many women as possible so they can work and become self-sufficient. It supports them emotionally and financially,” explains the leader, who also manages her farm.
About a hundred kilometers from Oudah, in the village of Jinwar, a model of community life rooted in ecology and Jineolojî is taking shape.
Delal Haji Omar shares that she found peace in Jinwar. This women-only village, designed as a space free from patriarchy, functions autonomously: the land is cultivated, chores are shared, and knowledge is passed down based on ecological principles and the science of women.
Here, women are safe from the violence of a patriarchal and capitalist society. Delal reconnects with the land that was taken from her by the society she came from in Iraqi Kurdistan.
“Here, I’ve learned everything: about women’s rights, for example, and also how to plant trees and flowers,” explains the mother of three, whose children partly grew up in the village.
Reconnecting
Jinwar is affiliated with Rojava’s Academy of Jineolojî. The women cultivate knowledge and seek to pass it on by hosting visitors, organising conferences, and facilitating discussions.
Shirine Ahmad, a resident of Jinwar and a member of the faculty’s education committee, believes the village represents a model of resistance. “Women often don’t realise the natural things they should be doing. Here, they return to the essential,” says the activist.
On that quiet day, near the guest house, Malika and her daughter, along with other residents, turn the soil near a field where a cow and its calf graze. The bright green grass stands out against the surrounding ochre tones. Delal’s face lights up.
“For a woman coming from a background where she had no power, this village is an incredible opportunity. It’s also important for our children,” she said, walking toward the central fountain.
With a touch of emotion, she added: “It’s like I was born here a second time. Reconnecting with the earth, the flowers, the trees… It’s the most beautiful life I can imagine.”
This Author
Amélie David is a freelance journalist based in Lebanon covering environmental and climate change stories. This report was made possible with the support of Khalil Ahmad Muhammad, Soha Ezzi, and many others on the ground. This article has been published through the Ecologist Writers’ Fund. We ask readers for donations to pay some authors £250 for their work. Please make a donation now. You can learn more about the fund, and make an application, on our website.
