A warning from history: Mustafa Barzani’s vision amid escalating tensions

At moments when political relationships slide toward hostility, history does not merely record what happened; it warns. One such warning comes from a 1967 speech by Mustafa Barzani, a leader whose words continue to resonate because they address not only conflict but also the moral conditions that prevent it from turning into social collapse.

Today, as tensions between Arabs and Kurds in Iraq and Syria risk hardening into mistrust and antagonism, Mustafa Barzani’s speech reminds us of a renewed urgency. It neither romanticizes coexistence nor denies grievances. Instead, it offers a disciplined political ethic grounded in justice, institutional responsibility, and the protection of ordinary people. This is not nostalgia; it is a framework for survival in divided societies.

Mustafa Barzani began by redefining leadership. Authority, he argued, is not a reward for loyalty or identity, but a trust that demands sacrifice. Leaders must serve public interest exclusively, setting aside personal ambition, wealth, and ego. This idea directly challenges a familiar source of resentment today: the perception that politics exists to enrich elites while ordinary citizens pay the price. When leadership is seen as self-serving, communities retreat into identity-based suspicion. Arab blames Kurd, Kurd blames Arab, while corruption quietly escapes accountability. Mustafa Barzani’s intervention shifts the problem away from ethnicity and toward ethics. The true danger is not the “other community” but leaders who abandon responsibility.

One of the most striking aspects of the speech is its insistence on self-criticism. Mustafa Barzani refused to engage in personal attacks and included himself among those who must be questioned. This approach matters deeply today, when political disagreements are increasingly personalized, amplified by social media, and framed as moral battles between “nationalists” and “traitors”.

Mustafa Barzani's logic was different. Criticism is a tool for correction, not humiliation. Without this distinction, disagreement becomes hatred, and hatred becomes violence. Societies that cannot criticize without destroying trust eventually lose the ability to govern themselves. The speech emphasizes organization, discipline, and institutions. Mustafa Barzani argued that no movement or state can survive on emotion or charisma alone. Without rules, accountability, and collective responsibility, even just causes fail. This lesson is particularly relevant in moments of political escalation. When institutions are weak, identity fills the vacuum. People cling to ethnic or sectarian belonging because it feels safer than unreliable systems. Strengthening institutions, courts, parliaments, laws, and parties reduces the need for communal defensiveness.

Perhaps the most powerful idea in the speech is Mustafa Barzani's claim that real power comes from the “heart of the people”. Even the strongest force, he argues, cannot win if it loses public trust. Conversely, no enemy can defeat a movement supported by its people. This is a warning to all sides today. Hostile rhetoric, collective punishment, humiliation at checkpoints, discriminatory language, and everyday disrespect do not make societies safer. They erode legitimacy. When people feel degraded, they withdraw trust, and without trust, no political project can endure.

Mustafa Barzani's attention to ordinary people was unusually concrete. He warns against harming villagers, insulting citizens, or unjustly taking even the smallest property. Such acts, he argues, turn leaders into enemies of their own people. In modern terms, this translates into a clear principle: the daily dignity of citizens is the foundation of political stability. When tensions rise, it is not speeches or slogans that determine the future; it is how people are treated in offices, schools, workplaces, streets, and online spaces.

Mustafa Barzani famously rejected ethnic war. He insisted that Kurds are not fighting Arabs, nor any other people. Yet he also rejected a false version of brotherhood; one where one side enjoys power, wealth, and voice, while the other remains hungry, excluded, and silent. This distinction is crucial today. Calls for unity ring hollow when justice is absent. Coexistence cannot be built on the denial of inequality. Real partnership requires fair participation, equal rights, and shared decision-making.

Mustafa Barzani's vision ultimately pointed toward a civic state: democratic, constitutional, accountable, and protective of all citizens regardless of ethnicity. He condemned rule by force, corruption, and unaccountable power. This vision aligns closely with how modern plural societies attempt, imperfectly but seriously, to manage diversity. In countries like the United States, Canada, Australia, and across Europe, the law is meant to act as a buffer between political conflict and social life. Anti-discrimination laws, equal protection principles, and independent courts exist to prevent disagreements from turning into communal persecution. These systems do not eliminate racism or injustice, but they establish a critical rule: no group is above the law, and no citizen is beneath it. When tensions rise, people rely not on ethnic loyalty but on legal protection.

The most dangerous moment in divided societies is when political conflict becomes social hatred. When neighbours see each other as threats rather than citizens, violence no longer feels unthinkable. Mustafa Barzani’s speech offers a counter-path. It insists that justice, not domination, creates security; that dignity, not humiliation, builds loyalty; and that institutions, not identity alone, sustain coexistence. Promoting these ideas today does not mean ignoring history or grievances. It means refusing to let them justify collective hostility. It means choosing law over revenge, responsibility over rhetoric, and citizenship over tribalism. History does not repeat itself mechanically, but it does punish those who refuse to learn. Mustafa Barzani's words remind us that escalation is not destiny. It is a choice. And so is restraint.