Dr. Pshtiwan Faraj

How can Kurdish society build a modern army while balancing history, politics, technology, civil authority, and the Peshmerga's legacy?

This may appear to be a straightforward institutional question, but it is not. The question of how to create an army in the Kurdistan Region is ultimately a question about political authority, social organization, historical experience, technology, and the relationship between the state and the forces that defend it. At the most basic level, there are two ways of thinking about this problem. We might call them thin theories and deep theories. Thin theory assumes that institutions can be separated from the societies that produce them. Under this approach, armies are broadly comparable institutions that can be constructed according to common models in different places. The assumption is that what works in one environment can, with sufficient administrative effort, be reproduced somewhere else. A similar logic is particularly dominant in economics, where rationality is often understood in terms of self-interest regardless of culture, history, or place. Deep or complex theory begins from a different premise: no two societies or cultures are identical, and therefore no single institutional model can be assumed to work everywhere. Institutions are products of the social and historical environments that produce them. This approach is more common in anthropology, where political and social institutions are understood through the particular histories and cultures that shaped them.

This distinction matters enormously for the Peshmerga. The creation of an army in Kurdish society cannot simply involve importing an existing model and applying it to the Kurdistan Region. It must take into account the political, economic, and cultural characteristics of the society in which that army is expected to operate. The recent unification of the Peshmerga forces therefore raises a question much larger than whether two military structures have been placed under a common administrative framework. On September 10, the Kurdistan Regional Government's Ministry of Peshmerga Affairs announced the completion of the unification and reorganization process, describing the forces formerly associated with Units 70 and 80 as having been brought into a unified command-and-control structure. The Ministry's official announcement presents the development as the culmination of a long institutional reform process aimed at creating a more unified and modern Peshmerga force. Yet an army is more than an organizational chart, and the difference between reorganizing military formations and creating a genuinely national military institution is precisely where the deeper question begins.

The Problem of the Modern Army

In general, there is no modern army anywhere in the Middle East in the full sense that the army belongs to the state, is an institution trusted by society, and, although it is a military institution, is ultimately governed by civilians for civilian purposes. This ideal of civil-military relations is itself complicated. The army is not supposed to be the political decision-maker; it is supposed to be the executor of decisions made by legitimate political authorities. It does not independently determine national policy, establish its own political objectives, or possess an autonomous source of public revenue. In the Middle East, however, the relationship between military institutions and political authority has historically taken different forms. In one model, the army itself becomes deeply embedded in the state and becomes a political decision-maker. This was the case in pre-Erdogan Turkey, while Pakistan provides another example in which the military has exercised a political role extending beyond conventional military responsibilities. In another model, military forces become instruments of political actors. Iran represents a different arrangement altogether, in which a parallel military institution operates alongside the conventional state security structure and possesses its own political and institutional power. Iraq's Hashd al-Shaabi provides another kind of example of the complicated relationship between armed forces, political organizations, and the state.

There is therefore a concept of a gap, or separation, between civilian and military spheres in different theories of civil-military relations. But separation does not mean the absence of a relationship. It means that two distinct institutions remain interconnected while maintaining different functions and authorities. In that sense, every society produces a different kind of army. This is why the Peshmerga cannot simply be understood through the institutional models of other armies. The Peshmerga emerged from a fundamentally different historical, political, and social experience, and its relationship with Kurdish nationalism, political parties, sacrifice, martyrdom, and armed struggle has shaped an institution that cannot be transformed simply by changing its administrative structure. The question is therefore not merely how to put the Peshmerga into the institutional form of a conventional army, but how to construct a modern military institution without ignoring the historical conditions that created the Peshmerga in the first place.

The army itself is a relatively modern institution. Before the rise of the modern nation-state, armed men moved between territories and political authorities in search of employment and military service. In Europe, people travelled from place to place to find armed work, and before the consolidation of the nation-state, individuals could fight for different forces and different sides without necessarily understanding that change as betrayal or opposition. The modern idea that people fight for a people, a country, a territory, or a nation is comparatively recent in human history. Such people were called mercenaries, while in Kurdish terminology the word jash carries a particular historical and political meaning. Yet the underlying phenomenon has not disappeared. It has returned in different forms in the postmodern era, including the recruitment of Colombian fighters for conflicts in places such as Sudan. The persistence of this phenomenon reminds us that military institutions are not natural or timeless structures; they are products of particular political and economic arrangements.

The Peshmerga emerged from a fundamentally different tradition. It has a romantic root that places the sacrifice of the individual within the struggle of the nation. Death is not simply an occupational hazard; it can become part of a larger culture of sacrifice, martyrdom, immortality, and blood. This is deeply embedded in Kurdish society. The culture of the martyr and the glorification of sacrifice have helped shape the political imagination surrounding the Peshmerga, while similar characteristics can also be found in guerrilla culture, where the fighter is not simply a member of a bureaucratic institution but a political and national actor. This is precisely where the Peshmerga's historical identity comes into tension with the organization of a modern army. A modern military institution requires something different: professional specialization, standardized command, institutional loyalty, administrative discipline, and a clear distinction between political authority and military execution. The Peshmerga must therefore confront a difficult transformation: how does an institution born from a culture of armed struggle become a modern state military without losing the historical identity that gave it legitimacy in the first place?

The Changing Nature of Warfare

There is another problem that makes this transformation even more difficult. We are now moving toward what could be described as the sunset of the traditional conception of the soldier, the fighter, the hero, and fearlessness. This does not mean that soldiers have become irrelevant, but that the battlefield itself is changing the meaning of military effectiveness. Drones, surveillance systems, intelligence technologies, precision weapons, electronic systems, communications networks, and the ability to observe and kill from considerable distances have transformed the relationship between the individual fighter and the battlefield. The technological evolution of warfare has greatly weakened, if not eliminated, the centrality of the traditional soldier as the primary source of military power. The heroic fighter who can navigate difficult terrain, withstand danger, and demonstrate personal fearlessness remains an important part of the Peshmerga's historical identity, but contemporary warfare increasingly rewards intelligence, information, communications, surveillance, logistics, precision, command-and-control, and technological integration.

For the Peshmerga, this creates a fundamental dilemma. Its historical legitimacy comes partly from the fighter, while its future effectiveness may depend increasingly on the institution. The force that was once defined by its ability to mobilize fighters, operate in difficult terrain, sustain sacrifice, and conduct guerrilla warfare must increasingly function in an environment in which information, surveillance, drones, air power, communications, intelligence, and technological integration determine the outcome of military operations. This means that modernization cannot simply consist of increasing the number of personnel or reorganizing existing formations. It requires a different conception of military effectiveness. The Peshmerga has to move from an understanding of military power centered on the individual fighter toward an understanding of military power centered on an integrated institution.

Unification Is Necessary, But What Does It Mean?

This is why the recent unification process matters. The Kurdistan Regional Government has presented the completion of the process as a major institutional achievement. At the September 21 ceremony, President Nechirvan Barzani described the unification as the beginning of a new chapter, while Prime Minister Masrour Barzani presented it as the fulfillment of a major commitment of the Ninth Cabinet. The Kurdistan Region Presidency's account of the ceremony and the Prime Minister's account place the development within a much longer process of institutional reform. There is good reason to regard the process as significant. For decades, the existence of separate Peshmerga structures associated with the KDP and PUK represented one of the most difficult institutional problems confronting the Kurdistan Region, and the formal integration of Units 70 and 80 under the Ministry of Peshmerga Affairs therefore addresses one of the most visible manifestations of the Kurdish internal political divide.

Recent reporting reflects the scale of the change. The National's September 21 report described the development as the unification of forces that had historically been divided between the two principal Kurdish parties, while Shafaq News reported the formal restructuring of Units 70 and 80 under a unified command-and-control structure. Yet there are opposing interpretations of what this means in practice. Some Kurdish political critics have argued that formal restructuring does not necessarily mean that political influence over the forces has disappeared. The question is therefore not simply whether the units have been renamed, reorganized, or placed within a common administrative structure; the deeper question is whether the political chains of loyalty that historically shaped the forces have actually been replaced by a single national chain of command.

This distinction is important because an army is not merely a collection of brigades and divisions. It is a system of authority. Who appoints its commanders? Who controls its finances? Who determines its deployments? To whom do officers ultimately owe their loyalty? Who can order the use of force? And, most importantly, what happens when the interests of political parties and the interests of the military institution diverge? These are not merely administrative questions. They are questions of statehood. This is also why the recent debate surrounding Peshmerga unification cannot be settled simply by pointing either to the official announcement that the process has been completed or to critics who argue that political influence remains. The more consequential question is whether the institutional mechanisms now being created are strong enough to make the distinction between political authority and military command meaningful in practice.

The reform process has nevertheless gone considerably further than previous attempts. The technical restructuring of the former Units 70 and 80 has produced a new structure of brigades, divisions, and military regions under the Ministry of Peshmerga Affairs. Earlier in 2026, Kurdistan24 reported that the unification process was expected to be completed by September, while subsequent reporting described plans for an 11-division structure under the Ministry. Shafaq News' reporting on the September restructuring and Kurdistan24's coverage of the Ministry's announcement demonstrate that the process is not simply rhetorical; there has been a substantial effort to change the organizational structure of the force. The question is what happens after the organizational structure has been changed.

The Geopolitical Problem

The Peshmerga also faces a geopolitical problem because it requires international support while occupying a unique position within the Iraqi state. It is a regional military force operating within the constitutional framework of Iraq while historically retaining characteristics of a non-state armed organization. That creates both an opportunity and a vulnerability. International support has helped the Peshmerga develop military capabilities, particularly during the war against the Islamic State, but international support also creates expectations. If the Peshmerga is to receive sustained assistance from the United States and other international partners, it must demonstrate institutional effectiveness, professionalization, accountability, and strategic necessity.

The international dimension of the reform process is therefore substantial. The KRG Ministry of Peshmerga Affairs has repeatedly emphasized the role of the United States-led international coalition in supporting the unification process, while British, Italian, German, and other international partners have remained involved in training, military assistance, and institutional reform. The Ministry's September report on British cooperation illustrates that international engagement did not end with the announcement of unification, while the Ministry has also continued to receive international delegations discussing the future of the force. The Peshmerga's future is therefore not determined exclusively in Erbil. It is also connected to Baghdad, Washington, London, Rome, Berlin, and the wider regional security environment.

The relationship with Baghdad is particularly important. The Peshmerga is expected to function as part of Iraq's broader constitutional security architecture while retaining the distinct institutional position of the Kurdistan Region. The recent unification therefore has implications beyond the internal politics of the Kurdistan Region. It raises the question of how a unified Kurdish military institution will relate to Iraq's national defense system, federal institutions, and wider security architecture. The challenge is to reconcile the constitutional position of the Kurdistan Region with the requirement that military power ultimately operate within a coherent state framework. That is a difficult balance, and it cannot be resolved through organizational reform alone.

The Crisis Within

The Peshmerga therefore faces several crises simultaneously. There is the Kurdish internal political crisis and the historical division between the major political parties. There is the institutional problem of transforming historically partisan forces into a genuinely national military. There is the geopolitical problem of maintaining international support while establishing a sustainable role within the Iraqi state. And there is the technological problem of adapting a historically guerrilla-oriented fighting culture to a rapidly changing battlefield. These problems are not independent of one another. Internal political divisions affect military command; military command affects international confidence; international confidence affects access to training and technology; and technological change alters the requirements of the military institution itself.

This is why the current reform should not be judged only by whether the Peshmerga has been administratively unified. The deeper issue is whether Kurdish society can construct an institution whose ultimate loyalty is to an agreed public authority rather than to competing political organizations. The Peshmerga cannot become a modern army merely because its forces have been reorganized into brigades and divisions. It must also develop a professional system of command, a coherent financial structure, standardized military education, institutional accountability, technological capabilities, and a clear relationship with civilian political authority. In this respect, recent analytical work is useful because it shows that the debate is not simply about whether unification has occurred but about what kind of institution is being constructed through the reform process.

The Middle East Institute's August 2026 report, "The Army of Kurdistan: The Peshmerga", examines the Peshmerga's military effectiveness, political divisions, institutional structure, and relationship with US policy. Meanwhile, Noor Omer's analysis of Peshmerga reform emphasizes financial consolidation, depoliticization, and institutional governance as important dimensions of building a national force. These perspectives are important because they demonstrate the difference between creating a formal military structure and creating a military institution capable of functioning independently of partisan political structures. The current unification process may therefore represent a major institutional step without necessarily resolving every underlying problem.

What Kind of Army?

This brings us back to the distinction between thin and deep theory. A thin approach would ask how other states built their armies and how the Kurdistan Region can reproduce those models. A deep approach asks a different question: what kind of military institution can actually function within Kurdish society, given its history, political divisions, culture, geography, relationship with Iraq, international partnerships, and rapidly changing technological environment?

The second question is more difficult because it does not have a ready-made answer. It requires Kurdish society to confront some of the contradictions that have historically been left unresolved. The Peshmerga is simultaneously a symbol of Kurdish national struggle, a military institution of the Kurdistan Regional Government, a component of Iraq's constitutional security architecture, a recipient of international military assistance, and an institution shaped by decades of partisan political organization. These identities do not automatically fit together. The challenge of reform is precisely to create an institution capable of accommodating them without allowing one identity to undermine the others.

The Peshmerga's romantic heritage cannot simply be discarded. The culture of sacrifice, martyrdom, courage, and national struggle is part of the institution's historical legitimacy. But neither can that heritage by itself provide the foundation for a modern military. The modern army requires institutional discipline, professional expertise, standardized command, technological capabilities, and a clearly defined relationship with civilian political authority. The task is therefore not to erase the Peshmerga's history but to transform the institution that history created.

The same is true of technology. The answer to drones, surveillance, precision weapons, and remote warfare is not simply to produce more traditional fighters. The Peshmerga must change the way it understands military power. The individual fighter will remain important, but the decisive military advantage increasingly comes from the ability to connect intelligence, surveillance, communications, logistics, command, technology, and personnel into a coherent system. The institution has to become more important than the individual without losing the human capacity that ultimately operates the institution.

So we have to change our understanding, change our agencies, and change our tools.

The recent unification of the Peshmerga is therefore important, but unification should not be confused with the completion of military reform. The organizational merger is one stage; building an army is another. The difference between the two is the difference between creating a structure and creating an institution. The KRG has now announced that the former Units 70 and 80 have been brought into a unified structure, and international partners continue to support the process. Critics, however, continue to question whether political chains of command and partisan influence have been fundamentally transformed. Both facts are relevant to understanding what happens next.

Ultimately, the question is not simply whether the Peshmerga has finally been unified. The question is whether Kurdish society can build an army that belongs to the state without becoming the state, that serves political authority without becoming the instrument of a political party, that preserves the historical memory of the Peshmerga without remaining trapped in the military culture of the past, and that adapts to technological transformation without abandoning the social foundations from which the institution emerged.

That is the real challenge of Peshmerga reform.

The Peshmerga's historic mission was built around fighters, but its future mission will require institutions. Its past was defined by sacrifice, but its future effectiveness will depend increasingly on professionalism. Its legitimacy was forged through struggle, but its ability to survive as a modern military institution will depend on command, technology, intelligence, accountability, and public trust.

The recent unification is therefore not the end of the Peshmerga question.

It is the beginning of the question that matters most: How can Kurdish society have an army?

#Peshmerga #Kurdistan #Security #GeopoliticalAnalysis