By Musa Igrek
On Music Freedom Day we remember the long and fraught struggle of Kurdish musicians in Türkiye. For decades, Kurdish artistic expression was systematically suppressed under a national policy that enforced a singular Turkish identity. Music, literature, cinema, and theatre in Kurdish were banned, their existence relegated to underground spaces or exile. It was not until the early 1990s, amid tentative reforms linked to Türkiye’s European Union aspirations, that Kurdish artists began to reemerge in the public sphere. Years later, in 2009, Türkiye launched TRT Kurdî, its first state channel broadcasting in Kurdish. Yet, whatever progress had been made proved fragile. The collapse of the 2015 peace process sparked a new wave of violence, undoing much of the progress that had been made. It also led to widespread destruction by Turkish armed forces in Kurdish-majority cities across southeastern Türkiye.
Today, Kurdish musicians navigate a landscape marked by de facto censorship, economic barriers, and the insidious pressure of self-censorship. Access to venues is restricted, financial support is inadequate, and the mere act of singing in Kurdish can be perceived as a political provocation. Beneath the surface, nationalist anxieties and state control continue to shape the limits of artistic expression.
In 2024, Kurdish people have faced arrests and charges of ‘spreading terrorist propaganda’ for singing and dancing to Kurdish political folk songs at gatherings. According to Human Rights Watch (HRW) this offense carries a prison sentence of up to five years, reflecting a clear misuse of powers by authorities. The arrest and prosecution of musicians and guests at Kurdish wedding parties, as HRW points out, exemplify how Turkish authorities have repeatedly misused the criminal justice system to suppress legitimate Kurdish activities and political expression. As highlighted in the joint submission by Freemuse and P24 – Susma for 2025 Türkiye’s Universal Periodic Review (UPR) at the United Nations, Kurdish musicians, along with cultural and music festivals, continue to face scrutiny and repression under anti-terror legislation.
The crackdown on artistic expression remains evident through multiple cases of censorship, with most bans occurring in Kurdish-majority cities. In March 2024, the Governor’s Office in Adana, in southern Türkiye, banned four artists from the music groupKolektîfa Rîtmên Azad from performing at a Women’s Day event, citing ongoing investigations against them for alleged ‘membership of a terrorist organisation’ and ‘propaganda.’ The group condemned the decision as arbitrary, noting that they had performed in the nearby city of Mersin just a day earlier without issue. In May, singer Sasa Serap’s concert in Mardin, a Kurdish-majority city, was cancelled due to ‘technical breakdowns,’ following previous cancellations of her performances in Van, Malatya, and Kayseri.
By mid-2024, restrictions on Kurdish music and dance intensified as the wedding season began. In July, six women were detained in Siirt, in southeastern Türkiye, for dancing the halay, a traditional folk dance, at a wedding. They were accused of ‘organisational propaganda’ after videos were shared online. In August, five people in Diyarbakır were detained for dancing the halay to Kurdish songs, while in Osmaniye, one of five detainees was arrested. In Istanbul, authorities detained 18 people for dancing the halay at different weddings, with 11 of them later arrested. The crackdown continued into September when members of the music group Koma Hevra were detained after performing at an event in Diyarbakır for singing in Kurdish. Meanwhile, Kurdish musician Seyidxan Sevinç had his concert hall reservation cancelled at the last minute by the Siirt Governor’s Office in October, just two days before his scheduled performance, on the grounds that the venue was ‘not suitable.’
In Istanbul Rojda Şenses’ sold-out concert was cancelled on 17 November without justification, despite contractual agreements and advance payments. Şenses condemned the move as intolerance toward Kurdish culture. Similar cancellations followed, including Diljen Roni’s December concert in Istanbul and Xecê’s events in Kars, both blocked under the pretext of ‘renovation,’ reinforcing concerns over systemic suppression of Kurdish music. Unexplained concert cancellations and bureaucratic justifications—often citing vague reasons such as ‘technical issues’ or ‘renovations’—continued across multiple cities, raising suspicions that these were merely pretexts for targeted bans on Kurdish artists rather than genuine logistical concerns.
Rojda Şenses Image: Wikimedia Commons
In January 2025, musician Kasım Taşdoğan was sentenced to 30 months in prison for performing three Kurdish songs in 2023, deemed ‘terrorist propaganda.’ In February, musician Mazlum Akpolat received a 22-month sentence on similar charges. Trials against Kurdish artists, such as in these cases, often drag on for years before reaching a conclusion.
The repression of Kurdish music persists—venues remain scarce, public authorities and cultural institutions remain indifferent, and law enforcement continues to exercise arbitrary power against artists. Yet, as one Kurdish musician put it: ‘We are determined to make music in Kurdish, insisting on using our language. We do this to protect it—our dreams and aspirations live within it.’ Against this backdrop, Türkiye’s latest efforts to negotiate an end to its decades-long conflict with Kurdish militants—set against the shifting geopolitics of Syria and the broader region—have raised the question: Could a lasting peace also mean a new cultural era for Kurdish artists? Would they, at last, be free to create without restriction?
Listen to some of the artists in this report
Rojda Şenses: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wfPpr0zStZ8
Sasa Serap: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCsok-uI8S77v22wBqTcogXg
Diljen Roni: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLzz7R1lAEBlGCea3282Atq0_wFkTSnv7y
Musa Igrek is a researcher based in Freemuse’s London office.
