The call went out, loud and clear. In the chaotic aftermath of US-Israeli strikes on Iran, former President Donald Trump voiced support for a potential Kurdish-led ground offensive, declaring he would be "all for it." For the organized, battle-hardened Iranian Kurdish opposition groups based in northern Iraq, it was a moment that crackled with both possibility and profound peril. Yet, as analysts reveal, the response has been one of intense hesitation, a collective pause born from a brutal history of abandoned promises and the fickle nature of their would-be ally.
The uncertainty isn't just about military odds—though those are stark. Analysts estimate combined Kurdish groups could muster a maximum of 10,000 fighters against an Iranian ground force of around half a million. The real calculation is political. Washington's narrative has been a shifting fog: from Trump's call for regime change, to claims the attack was defensive or forced by Israel, to a lack of any clear endgame. For potential allies, this isn't a strategy; it's a question mark. "Given the stakes," explains Kamran Matin, a lecturer in international relations, "any Kurdish offensive would need the buy-in" of the Kurdistan Regional Government (KRG) in northern Iraq, which hosts them. But if Trump "declares victory halfway through," he warns, Iran would have "both the means and the desire to punish" the KRG and its people.
The Shadow of Past Betrayals
To understand the caution, you have to rewind the tape. The Kurdish experience with US operations is a chronicle of hope met with abandonment. In 1991, after President George H.W. Bush called for an uprising against Saddam Hussein, Kurdish rebels answered—only to be left unsupported, resulting in tens of thousands of deaths and mass displacement. Decades later, Syrian Kurds became indispensable US partners in the fight against ISIS, only to see that support evaporate. In 2019, partial US withdrawals from northern Syria exposed Kurdish forces to a devastating Turkish offensive, forcing evacuations and deepening their political isolation.
This history isn't abstract; it's a lived trauma that informs every decision. "There is cautious hope," says Kurdish-Iranian security analyst Shukriya Bradost, that the US would back an Iranian Kurdish move. "However, there is also concern that if Washington reaches an agreement with the remaining elements of the Iranian regime to end the war, Kurdish groups could once again be sidelined." The fear is ending up alone, facing a vengeful central government with the same repressive policies, but with fewer friends and more enemies.
The High-Stakes Calculus in Northern Iraq
The dilemma isn't confined to rebel strategy; it threatens to destabilize an entire region. The majority of these opposition groups—like the Democratic Party of Iranian Kurdistan (PDKI) and Komala—operate from the semi-autonomous Kurdish region of northern Iraq, home to some 5 million people. The KRG has made it clear it "does not want to be part of a war with Iran." As a non-sovereign entity, Bradost notes, it is "among the first targets of Iranian retaliation," a fact underscored just last Friday when Iran launched strikes targeting the PDKI.
Iran has explicitly warned of widespread attacks in northern Iraq if local authorities don't crack down on these groups. The KRG remembers that after the 2017 Kurdish independence referendum, Washington ultimately backed the Iraqi central government and Iran-aligned militias that moved against Kurdish areas. "Because of this history," Bradost states, "there is deep caution about becoming involved." The potential cost isn't just for fighters on a front line; it's for millions of civilians caught in the crossfire of a conflict they didn't choose.
A Moment of Unprecedented Weakness—and Opportunity
Yet, pulsating beneath the caution is a powerful sense that this moment is different. The Islamic Republic is arguably at its weakest point in decades. Years of regional conflict, a major war with Israel in June 2025, and the current devastating air campaign have diminished its power. Inside Iran, mass protests in January that saw thousands killed revealed deep, widespread anger at the state. For opposition groups that have fought for half a century against the Islamic Republic (and 50 years before that under the Pahlavi monarchy), the temptation is immense.
"The distrust is very real," says Hemn Seyedi of the University of Exeter, "but this might be the opportunity they've been waiting for." He believes many inside Iran would support a Kurdish rebellion. The recent formation of the Coalition of Political Forces of Iranian Kurdistan—a forum for coordination announced just days before the US-Israeli strikes began—suggests groups are preparing for something. "Everything I'm hearing," Seyedi adds, "suggests we may see something in the next few days."
The decision these groups are weighing transcends a simple military alliance. It's a cultural and political reckoning. It's about whether the chance to strike at a weakened adversary, in a region reshaped by conflict, is worth the gamble on a partner whose record is written in broken promises. They are caught between the trauma of history and the tantalizing, dangerous possibility of rewriting it. In the end, their choice won't just be about trusting Trump; it will be a bet on whether this time, the story ends differently.
