A Story from Rojava
- 2 days ago
- 4 min read
by Klara

These brief lines, taken from the diary of a young internationalist in Rojava, tell us about the early moments of the advance of HTS and the Islamic State towards the DAANES (Democratic Autonomous Administration of Northeast Syria).
In January 2026, after heavy attacks against the population of the Sheikh Masqsoud and Asrafiye neighborhoods in Aleppo, the jihadist militias of the government targeted the whole of Rojava. Despite an agreement between the forces of the Syrian transitional government and the SDF that the DAANES military structures would relocate to outside of the Arab-majority areas of Deir Ez Zor, Tabqa and Raqqa, on January 18, 2026, jihadist militias attacked the entire civilian population and the military structures as they were evacuating the area.Thousands of civilians were massacred, thousands kidnapped, and thousands are still missing.That same night, January 18, hundreds of young people joined convoys heading to the Hesekeh area to stop the jihadist advance and defend their land and their people.
18 January 2026
Me and another german comrade are driving to Hesekê. It is evening and tension is in the air. The enemy has advanced to the city limits and we have set off to join the medical structures. Only a few cars are driving in the same direction as us. We encounter refugees from Tabka, Raqqa, and families from Afrin who are fleeing the approaching gangs. We analyse the situation, exchange medical knowledge, and try to ease the tension a little. It feels like driving into a gathering storm, but excitement and tension alternate. The attacks, the massacres, the question of how our friends in the attacked areas are doing – all this alternates with a deep-seated defiance, a refusal to give up another metre of this revolution to these gangs. In my head there is a voice that keeps saying “Enough. Whatever it takes, we must do everything we can to stop them.”
Our conversations revolve around medical matters and our defence: what can we expect, what should we pay particular attention to? When we reach the clinic, there is a flurry of activity. Wounded people who have undergone surgery and are in a stable condition are being distributed to other cities, and ambulances are constantly rushing by. We are warmly welcomed by our friends and after a short time we also help to load wounded friends into ambulances. The place where we are is close to the front line, so we try to keep as few friends here as possible. Many friends have been ambushed during the retreat from Şedadê and Deir ez Zor. Cars keep arriving and we help where we can.
After a few hours, things calm down and we can visit friends from the military units. We know some of them, others we are meeting for the first time. We sit together with friends of the YPJ, drink tea and marvel at the encounters this revolution makes possible. We, two internationalists coming from Germany, sit together around a heater with Arab, Assyrian, Armenian and Kurdish friends from all regions of Rojava. It is getting later and later, minutes of conversation, glances at the news and guard duty on the roof alternate. We are all eagerly awaiting what the next few hours will bring. After a few hours, the need to sleep takes over. I close my eyes for a couple of hours.
As I stand on the roof of the clinic, I look at the sunrise. I let my gaze wander, watching for suspicious movements and brooding to myself. I came to Rojava because I see its self-government, its ideology of women‘s liberation and the coexistence of so many peoples as an example for the whole world. For me, Rojava is a place where hope shines through, like the first rays of sunshine after a rain shower through the clouds. The current attacks are an attack on this hope.
From afar, I hear the rumbling of fighter jets circling above us. Coalition aircraft monitoring the transfer of IS fighters1. Perhaps so that they can be imprisoned elsewhere, perhaps so that the US can once again assemble a mercenary army of Islamists – who knows for sure? I clench my fists and stare angrily at the circling jets. My friend next to me laughs and pats me on the shoulder. “Dev ji wan berde,” which means something like, “Don‘t worry about them!” I nod and he continues, “No one will give us our freedom, we can only rely on ourselves. On our strength, that of society and our convictions.” Smiling, we look around. Armoured vehicles from the YPG and YPJ drive past, revolutionary songs blaring from loudspeakers, the wind carrying the sounds up to us. On the surrounding rooftops, many other friends are keeping watch, just like us. Alert, determined, ready.
Several weeks have now passed, and life in the city is slowly returning to normal. Now that the integration agreement2 has been concluded, everyone is trying to understand what this will mean in practice, how we can defend the achievements of the revolution, and ensure that the transformation of society continues. The attacks were aimed at pitting the peoples of Rojava and Syria against one another; the resistance here, in all parts of Kurdistan and across the world, has given us the opportunity to stop the bloodshed for the time being.
In the last few weeks I have had the chance to meet many different people; together we have fought, mourned, laughed and dreamed. Friendships forged in such times and circumstances will always hold a special significance. During these weeks, in which we shared both difficult and light-hearted experiences, one thing has also become clear to me. No matter what attacks and obstacles may still lie ahead of us, if we live and strive with hope and determination, then we can create something wonderful in any circumstances.
[1] In the end of January 2026 an agreement was reached between US and the Syrian interim government to transfer thousands of IS fighters from Syrian to Iraqi prisons, through the so-called “Global Coalition To Defeat ISIS” [editor‘s note].
[2] An agreement was reached in the end of January, between the Syrian Democratic forces and the Syrian Transitional Government. The agreement provides for an immediate cease-fire and the gradual integration of the autonomous administration’s military, administrative, and civilian structures into the state [editor‘s note].



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