Shafaq News
Power in
northern Iraq has never been fully one-sided. For more than two decades, the
balance between Baghdad’s authority and the Kurdistan Region’s autonomy has
shifted through wars, negotiations, constitutional disputes, and political
crises. At times, federal institutions have extended deep into Kurdish areas;
at others, Erbil has exercised self-rule resembling many functions of a state. The
result is neither a fixed division of power nor a settled constitutional
arrangement, but a constantly renegotiated relationship.
Today, the
Kurdistan Region operates its own parliament, security forces, and executive
institutions while maintaining direct relations with foreign governments and
international energy companies. Its leadership negotiates with Baghdad over
budgets, natural resources, and disputed territories, while also navigating the
influence of neighboring states that shape Iraqi politics.
These
institutions were not created through constitutional design alone. Their
foundations rest on decades of armed struggle, internal Kurdish rivalries, and
repeated moments when the Iraqi state fractured or transformed. More than three
decades after self-rule first emerged in northern Iraq, the Kurdistan Region
remains one of the Middle East’s most developed examples of autonomous
governance.
Boundaries
of Identity
A
long-delayed census conducted in 2024 and released in 2025 recorded Iraq’s
population at roughly 46 million, placing the Kurdistan Region at just over 14%
of the national total. Rather than settling disputes between Baghdad and Erbil,
the figures became part of them, fueling debates over budgets, resources, and
federal entitlements.
Estimates
place Iraq’s Kurdish population between 6.5 million and 8.5 million, while the
Kurdistan Regional Government (KRG) puts the figure at around 6 million. The
gap reflects decades of displacement, shifting front lines, migration, and the
unresolved status of mixed territories where Kurds, Arabs, Turkmen, and others
have long lived together.
Language
further illustrates the Kurdistan Region’s internal diversity. Kurmanji
dominates in Duhok and parts of Erbil, while Sorani shapes political discourse
and administration in al-Sulaymaniyah and much of the capital. Both dialects
hold official status within the same institutions, each carrying distinct
cultural and historical experiences.
As former
Iraqi President and late Patriotic Union of Kurdistan (PUK) leader Jalal
Talabani once observed, “Our strength lies in our unity, not in uniformity.”
The observation remains central to Kurdish political life, where cohesion has
depended less on homogeneity than on managing differences without fracturing
the political space.
This
diversity extends beyond language. Most Kurds in Iraq are Muslim, the majority
Sunni, though Feyli Kurds are largely Shia. Alongside them, Yazidi, Christian,
and Shabak communities remain woven into the social fabric, particularly in the
disputed areas. Their vulnerability became clear in 2014, when ISIS swept
across northern Iraq, collapsing local security structures and displacing
entire communities.
The United
Nations Commission of Inquiry on Syria and Iraq later concluded that ISIS’s
campaign against Yezidis in Sinjar “may amount to genocide,” citing mass
killings, abductions, and systematic sexual slavery. The finding made Sinjar
one of Iraq’s most sensitive post-ISIS flashpoints, where security, governance,
and the return of displaced residents remain unresolved among Baghdad, Erbil,
and local actors.
The Kurdistan
Region’s three main cities developed distinct roles. Erbil became the
administrative center of the KRG and expanded after 2003 into a hub for
diplomacy, investment, and governance. Al-Sulaymaniyah developed a strong
cultural and political identity shaped by a more competitive political
environment and a diverse media landscape. Duhok, near the Turkish border,
evolved into a commercial gateway linking Iraq to regional trade routes.
Kirkuk,
however, best illustrates Iraq’s unresolved territorial disputes. Rich in oil
and marked by ethnic diversity, it has remained contested since 2003. Article
140 of the Iraqi Constitution outlined a process of normalization, a census,
and a referendum to determine its status, but implementation stalled. The
balance shifted in 2017 when Iraqi federal forces retook the city after the
Kurdish independence referendum, altering territorial realities between Baghdad
and Erbil.
During that
period, then-Prime Minister Haider al-Abadi framed Baghdad’s position in
constitutional terms. “The constitution is our reference point for unity and
stability,” he remarked, noting that territorial disputes are also disputes
over authority, legitimacy, and competing visions of the state.
Read more: Iraq’s population surges past 46M: Burden or opportunity?
Born from
Friction
What is now
the Kurdistan Region did not emerge through administrative design or a
negotiated federal arrangement. It developed through a long historical process
in which Kurdish identity in Iraq was shaped by the collapse of empires, the
rise of Arab nationalism, and successive governments in Baghdad that equated
unity with centralization. Rather than producing a gradual political project,
these pressures steadily transformed grievance into organized national
mobilization.
Under the
late Ottoman Empire and the subsequent British Mandate, Kurdish-inhabited areas
in northern Iraq were incorporated into a state that did not reflect Kurdish
political aspirations. The creation of the modern Iraqi state in 1921 placed
these regions under Baghdad’s authority, establishing a tension that endured
for decades. Kurdish demands for autonomy surfaced repeatedly but became
intertwined with broader struggles over state-building and territorial control.
By the
mid-20th century, Kurdish politics had evolved into organized movements. The
founding of the Kurdistan Democratic Party (KDP) in 1946 under Mullah Mustafa
Barzani marked a turning point from fragmented resistance to an organized
political and military movement. Even then, relations with Baghdad alternated
between negotiation and conflict, often breaking down when the central
government sought to reassert control by force.
This cycle
became a defining feature of modern Iraq. Periods of state weakness enabled
Kurdish movements to expand, while renewed central authority pushed them back
into rebellion, with Baghdad consistently portraying Kurdish autonomy as a
challenge to Iraq’s territorial integrity rather than a political demand within
the state.
The
relationship deteriorated further after the Baath Party consolidated power in
the late 1960s and 1970s. As the Iraqi state became more centralized and
militarized, Kurdish regions were drawn into prolonged conflict. Efforts to
negotiate autonomy collapsed amid deepening mistrust, giving way to renewed
military campaigns against Kurdish strongholds.
A major
turning point came with the 1975 Algiers Agreement between Iraq and Iran, which
ended Tehran’s support for Kurdish insurgents. The accord triggered the rapid
collapse of the Kurdish uprising, forcing the large-scale withdrawal and
displacement of fighters and civilians. For Kurdish leaders, it underscored a
lesson that would shape future strategy: external alliances could shift
abruptly, transforming the internal balance of power.
Rather than
bringing stability, the agreement ushered in a new phase of repression. Kurdish
political aspirations endured but were repeatedly forced underground as Baghdad
expanded its coercive power. During the 1980s, particularly throughout the
Iran-Iraq War, Kurdish areas became one of the principal theaters of Iraq’s
internal conflict.
The violence
reached its peak with the Anfal campaign in the late 1980s. Under Saddam
Hussein, Iraqi forces targeted Kurdish rural communities through mass
displacement, village destruction, and large-scale killings. Human Rights Watch
estimates that between 50,000 and 100,000 Kurds were killed, while around
200,000 were displaced across northern Iraq and into neighboring countries. The
1988 chemical attack on Halabja became the campaign’s most internationally
recognized symbol, killing thousands in a single assault.
Rather than
extinguishing Kurdish aspirations, Anfal strengthened them, transforming the
Kurdish cause into one rooted in collective memory and growing international
attention. By the end of the 1980s, Kurdish politics had been reshaped by
military defeat and demographic upheaval, setting the stage for autonomy to
emerge not through negotiation with Baghdad, but through the weakening of the
Iraqi state.
Read more: Faili Kurds: Decades of injustice VS. Iraq’s struggle to reconcile with its past
Rules of
Coexistence
That
opportunity arose after the 1991 Gulf War, when Iraq’s defeat and the ensuing
uprisings created a political vacuum across much of the country. In the weeks
that followed, Kurdish fighters and civilians rose against Saddam Hussein’s
government. Iraqi forces initially crushed much of the uprising, sending
hundreds of thousands of Kurds toward the borders with Turkiye and Iran in one
of the region’s largest humanitarian crises.
International
pressure soon prompted the United States and its allies to establish a no-fly
zone north of the 36th parallel, effectively preventing Baghdad from
reasserting full control over much of northern Iraq.
For the
first time in Iraq’s modern history, Kurdish parties found themselves governing
territory beyond Baghdad’s control. Independence was never formally declared,
nor was autonomy negotiated with the central government. Instead, self-rule
emerged because of war.
Baghdad and
the Kurdish leadership viewed the new reality through very different lenses.
Saddam Hussein maintained that Iraq would remain “one Iraq,”
rejecting any arrangement that could diminish the authority of the central
government. Kurdish leaders, meanwhile, increasingly focused on building
institutions capable of governing the territory under their control rather than
sustaining a purely armed movement.
That
transition became visible in 1992, when the Kurdistan Region held its first
parliamentary elections. Presenting the vote as a step toward democratic
legitimacy, then-PUK leader Jalal Talabani argued that “Western
governments will be encouraged and persuaded to deal with the real
representatives and listen to the real voice of the Kurdish people.” The
elections produced the Kurdistan National Assembly and marked the beginning of
institutional politics in the Region.
The KDP and
the PUK quickly emerged as the dominant political forces, but they governed
separate areas and built parallel administrations, security forces, and
economic networks. Even while negotiating with Baghdad, KDP leader Masoud
Barzani maintained that Kurdish aspirations centered on meaningful autonomy
rather than separation, arguing that Kurdistan would remain “part of
Iraq” if genuine self-government could be guaranteed.
Those
differences eventually spilled into open conflict. By the mid-1990s, rivalry
between the two parties had developed into a civil war that divided the
emerging autonomous Region into competing administrations. Control over border
crossings, customs revenues, government institutions, and political legitimacy
became as important as military gains on the battlefield.
The fighting
slowed only after the 1998 Washington Agreement, brokered by the United States.
Although it did not eliminate political rivalry, it established rules for
coexistence and gradually reduced the conflict between the two parties.
Describing the agreement, then-US Secretary of State Madeleine Albright called
it “a new and hopeful chapter,” adding that Washington viewed Kurdish
reconciliation as a step that would strengthen stability in northern Iraq and
the broader Iraqi opposition to Saddam Hussein.
By the early
2000s, the Kurdistan Region had acquired many of the characteristics of a
functioning state. It operated its own security forces (Asayish), managed
schools and public services, collected revenues, and maintained limited
economic ties through cross-border trade. Legally, it remained part of Iraq. In
practice, however, Baghdad exercised little influence over daily life in the
Region after years of sanctions had weakened the central government.
Read more: Into 2026, Baghdad and Erbil face the same disputes—with higher stakes
Unresolved
on Paper
The US-led
invasion in 2003 did more than topple a government. It dismantled the state’s
core structure and left its institutions to be rebuilt from scratch. For Iraq’s
Kurds, the fall of Saddam Hussein ended decades of coercion, but it also opened
a period of uncertainty over what autonomy would look like in a country still
being rebuilt.
Unlike the
rest of the country, the Kurdistan Region did not start from zero. By 2003, it
already had a functioning parliament, security forces, and an administrative
system that had taken shape during years of de facto autonomy. That head start
would prove decisive as Baghdad’s new political order began to take shape.
Oil quickly
became one of the defining fault lines. Iraq holds an estimated 145 billion
barrels of proven reserves, while Kirkuk alone contains around 9–10 billion
barrels and had once produced roughly 500,000 barrels per day before 2003. The
Kurdistan Region, for its part, has claimed reserves of more than 45 billion
barrels of oil equivalent, along with 25–30 trillion cubic feet of natural gas,
figures that remain disputed by Baghdad.
The 2005
Constitution gave that reality formal shape. It recognized the Kurdistan Region
as a federal entity, with its own parliament and control over internal security
through the Peshmerga, a force estimated at between 120,000 and 200,000
fighters. But recognition on paper did not settle the question of power.
Instead, it left it unresolved.
Control over
territory, oil, and revenue remained contested, nowhere more than in Kirkuk.
Article 140 of the Constitution laid out a process to resolve the status of
disputed territories through normalization, a census, and a referendum. It was
supposed to be completed by the end of 2007. It never was.
Kirkuk, with
its oil fields and strategic location, became the clearest expression of the
dispute. Control over production and export routes turned hydrocarbons into a
political dividing line running through the center of Iraq’s federal system.
By the late
2000s, that divide had hardened. The Kurdistan Region began signing
production-sharing contracts with international oil companies, including
ExxonMobil, Chevron, and TotalEnergies, while Baghdad rejected them as
unconstitutional. At the same time, Iraq’s federal oil exports —averaging
between 2.5 million and 3.5 million barrels per day— remained under the control
of the State Organization for Marketing of Oil (SOMO).
The result
was two parallel systems operating within one country. Hussain al-Shahristani,
Iraq’s oil minister at the time, argued that “oil revenues constitute more
than 90% of Iraq’s federal budget, and therefore cannot be fragmented without
threatening state cohesion.” Kurdish leaders viewed the issue differently.
Masoud Barzani, then president of the Kurdistan Region, countered that “We
cannot exercise real autonomy if it does not control its own economic
resources.”
Over time,
Erbil began to function more like a regional capital than an administrative
center within a federal state. More than 30 foreign diplomatic missions opened
representative offices there, and international companies began dealing
directly with Kurdish authorities. It also maintained close security
coordination with the US, particularly during the fight against ISIS after
2014. General Raymond Odierno, who commanded American forces in Iraq, described
the Peshmerga as “the most reliable security partner in Iraq during the
early stabilization phase.”
As Iraq’s
political system stabilized unevenly, relations between Baghdad and Erbil
settled into a familiar pattern: cooperation when necessary, confrontation when
it mattered. Jalal Talabani once characterized federalism as “the system
designed to hold the country in place, and at the same time, the one that kept
exposing its fault lines.”
Read more: Kurdistan Region’s political deadlock: Impact and perils
A Hard Check
By the end
of the war against ISIS, the Kurdistan Region had reached its strongest
position since 2003. The Peshmerga held Kirkuk and other disputed areas,
Western governments relied heavily on Kurdish forces on the ground, and in
Erbil there was a growing belief that Iraq’s balance of power had shifted in
ways Baghdad could no longer reverse.
Kurdish
leaders moved to test that assumption in 2017. On Sept. 25, voters across the
Kurdistan Region took part in an independence referendum. More than 90% backed
separation from Iraq. The leadership framed the vote as a mandate to open
negotiations with Baghdad, not as a unilateral declaration of independence.
“We want to know the will of our people,” Masoud Barzani, head of the
KDP, remarked ahead of the vote, adding that “a serious dialogue will soon
begin.”
Baghdad
viewed the move differently from the outset. Then-Prime Minister Haider
al-Abadi rejected the referendum as unconstitutional and made it clear that
“the unity of Iraq and the Constitution are not subject to discussion or
compromise.” Regional powers quickly aligned with Baghdad. Turkiye and
Iran opposed the vote, warning it could destabilize borders and encourage
separatist movements across the region.
What
followed shifted rapidly from politics to force. In October of the same year,
Iraqi federal troops advanced into disputed territories, with Kirkuk at the
center of the operation. Kurdish forces withdrew from the city within hours,
ending more than three years of control. The speed of the retreat underscored a
hard limit in Kurdish leverage. Gains achieved on the battlefield during the
war against ISIS had not translated into political recognition or
constitutional change. The United States, while praising the role of the
Peshmerga, also urged Kurdish leaders to postpone the referendum, warning it
would deepen tensions with Baghdad and complicate the wider campaign against
ISIS.
Inside the
Kurdistan Region, the consequences were immediate. Baghdad disrupted budget
transfers, trade routes came under pressure, and the loss of disputed
territories —especially Kirkuk— reduced both revenue and political leverage.
The political unity that had carried the referendum soon began to fray, as
long-standing differences between the KDP and the PUK resurfaced.
The vote
itself remained politically significant even after its failure. For many Kurds,
it marked a rare and overwhelming expression of support for independence. For
Baghdad, it reinforced a long-held position that Iraq’s federal system could
accommodate Kurdish autonomy but not unilateral moves toward sovereignty.
In the
months that followed, Baghdad and Erbil gradually returned to negotiations, but
under altered conditions. The agenda shifted away from independence and toward
practical disputes —budgets, oil exports, and the administration of disputed
territories— within the constraints of Iraq’s federal framework.
Read more: Kurdistan’s 10th cabinet: Interlocking alliances and persistent political differences
Stalled and
Strained
The most
persistent fault line remained the federal budget. Transfers from Baghdad to
Erbil have been delayed, reduced, or used as leverage in disputes over oil
exports and internal revenue collection, turning fiscal policy into a central
instrument of political bargaining.
That dispute
is inseparable from Iraq’s unresolved energy governance. The Kurdistan Region
relies heavily on oil revenues generated through its own contracts and export
channels, while Baghdad insists on federal control over all national resources.
As a result, Kurdish oil exports through the Kirkuk-Ceyhan pipeline to Turkiye
remained suspended for more than two years, tightening fiscal pressure on Erbil
and deepening disputes over who controls production and revenues. The halt
followed arbitration rulings and escalating disagreements between Baghdad and
Erbil over export authority, contracts, and payment mechanisms.
In 2025,
both sides reached an understanding to resume exports under federal
supervision. The arrangement returned crude sales to SOMO, with revenues tied
to budget transfers and salary payments in the Kurdistan Region. The deal
restored limited export flows after a prolonged shutdown but left the core
issues —control, contracts, and constitutional authority— unresolved.
Read more: Six months of stalemate: Kurdistan’s government formation crisis deepens
Inside the
Kurdistan Region, domestic politics add another layer of strain. Political
rivalry between the two main Kurdish parties —KDP and PUK— continues to shape
governance. Following the October 2024 elections, in which the KDP won 39 seats
and the PUK secured 23 in the 100-member parliament, efforts to form a
government stalled. Lawmakers briefly convened on Dec. 3, 2025, but failed to
elect a speaker or move forward with cabinet formation, leaving the legislature
at a standstill.
Beyond
internal politics, the Kurdistan Region operates within a complex regional
environment shaped by overlapping external interests. Relations with Turkiye
are anchored in economic interdependence and security concerns tied to
cross-border militant activity. Relations with Iran are influenced by geography
and Tehran’s political influence within Iraq’s broader Shiite political
landscape. Engagement with the United States continues, though primarily
through advisory and coordination roles rather than long-term security
guarantees.
Despite
these pressures, Erbil retains a degree of external agency that is unusual for
a sub-state entity. It is within this condition of managed ambiguity —where
autonomy is preserved but continuously tested— that the broader trajectory of
Iraq’s Kurdish experience converges.
Read more: The Kurdish rebellion dissolves: Turkiye’s century-old equation evolves
Read more: Iran’s Kurds straddle between inclusion and autonomy
Read more: Kurds in Syria: From marginalization to a defining political force
Written and
edited by Shafaq News staff.