Michael: What if I told you that America’s most effective partner in the fight against ISIS wasn’t a state army, but a feminist militia, inspired by a jailed leftist revolutionary, that put women’s equality at the absolute center of its war? Kevin: Wait, a feminist militia? How does that even work? That sounds like something from a movie script, not from the front lines of the Syrian Civil War. Michael: That's the incredible, almost unbelievable, reality at the heart of Gayle Tzemach Lemmon's book, The Daughters of Kobani. Kevin: And Lemmon is the perfect person to tell this story. She's a journalist who has spent her career reporting from conflict zones, focusing on women who defy expectations. I read she even learned Kurmanji to interview these fighters directly. Michael: Exactly. She brings this deep, on-the-ground credibility. And the book itself was widely acclaimed for showing this story with such moral clarity. It really gets to the heart of what drove these women to fight. Kevin: I’m fascinated. Where do you even start with a story like that? Michael: You start by understanding that this wasn't just a fight against ISIS. For many of these women, it was a fight that began in their own homes, against the expectations of their own culture.

Kevin: What do you mean by that? That it started in their own homes? Michael: Well, let's take the story of a young woman named Znarin. She was brilliant, she dreamed of becoming a doctor. But her uncle, the patriarch of the family, decided her education was over. He pulled her out of school, crushing that dream. Later, he tried to force her into an arranged marriage. Her life was being dictated for her. Kevin: That's heartbreaking. So for Znarin, joining the movement wasn't just a political choice, it was a personal escape route. It was the only place she could be free? Michael: Precisely. The movement offered her an alternative. And this is where the ideology comes in. The Kurdish leader Abdullah Ocalan, whose ideas inspired these women, argued that a society can't be truly free until its women are free. He wrote that the 5,000-year history of civilization is essentially the history of the enslavement of women. Kevin: That's a radical statement. So this ideology gave women like Znarin a framework for their frustration, a language for their rebellion. Michael: It did. And you see it in other stories too. There's Rojda, who as a young girl was shamed by her conservative uncle for playing soccer. He even dressed up as a ghost to scare her away from the field. But she refused to stop. That small act of defiance against a patriarchal rule was the seed of a much larger rebellion. Kevin: I can see how those personal experiences would fuel a desire for something different. But it's still a huge leap from wanting to play soccer to picking up a weapon. Michael: The turning point for many was the 2004 Qamishli protests. After a soccer match, Syrian regime forces opened fire on Kurdish fans. It was a massacre. Rojda later told her mother, "In 2004, we had nothing. You cannot be empty-handed when someone attacks you." That was the moment they realized that to protect themselves and their vision for a different future, they needed to be armed. Kevin: Okay, but let's be real. Ocalan and the PKK are designated as terrorists by the U.S. and Turkey. How did this ideology, which is so controversial, become the foundation for America's key ally? Michael: That's the central paradox of this whole story. For these Syrian Kurdish women, the ideology wasn't about the geopolitical conflicts of the PKK in Turkey. It was about liberation, right there in their towns. It gave them a blueprint for a society where women were equal partners. And this led directly to the creation of the YPJ—the Women's Protection Units. They insisted on it, with one leader, Rojda, arguing, "Why should men take credit for our work? Women already have proven themselves in battle." Kevin: Wow. So they weren't just joining an existing army; they were building their own, on their own terms. Michael: Exactly. They were building an army and a revolution at the same time. And that conviction was about to be put to the ultimate test in a small, dusty town called Kobani.

Michael: By 2014, ISIS is a terrifying force. They're sweeping across Iraq and Syria, seemingly unstoppable. And they set their sights on Kobani. They threw everything they had at this one small town, expecting it to fall in days. And on the front lines, defending it, were the women of the YPJ. Kevin: This is the David and Goliath story. Michael: It is. Lemmon gives us these incredible, visceral portraits of the fighters. Take Azeema, a former high school volleyball player turned sniper. For her, the key to fighting wasn't aggression; it was absolute stillness. She told younger fighters, "The secret is to keep calm. No movement, no excitement. Any excitement at all, and you won’t hit your target." Kevin: Wow. So it's like the highest-stakes meditation session ever. Any excitement, any flinch, and you fail. The pressure is unimaginable. Michael: Completely. And while Azeema is in her sniper's perch, her commander, Nowruz, is running the defense from a makeshift headquarters in a bombed-out school. Supplies are dwindling. Ammunition is scarce. ISIS is using car bombs and psychological warfare, getting on the radio and threatening the women with rape and enslavement. Kevin: That's chilling. The contrast is just staggering. ISIS, a group built on the enslavement of women, is facing an army led by women fighting for their total emancipation. It’s like a clash of two opposite worlds. Michael: It was a direct ideological collision. And Nowruz had to keep morale up. She’d get on the radio to her commanders, like Rojda, and say, "Think about all those women in Sinjar... They would do the same to us. You must take revenge... It would be better to die with dignity here, today, than to become their slave." Kevin: Goosebumps. That’s not just a military order; that’s a reminder of what’s at stake for humanity. Michael: And the world started to watch. Because Kobani is right on the Turkish border, journalists could film the fighting from a distance. Social media exploded with the hashtag #GlobalDay4Kobane. The narrative was irresistible: a small, plucky militia of women holding off the most feared terrorist group on the planet. Kevin: And that public pressure had a real effect, right? Michael: It did. It eventually forced the Obama administration's hand. The U.S. began airdropping supplies—weapons, ammunition, medical aid. One of the few doctors left in the city said he burst into tears when he saw the pallets of medical supplies coming down. Then came the U.S. airstrikes. It was a major turning point in the battle, and the beginning of a very complicated alliance.

Kevin: So the U.S. comes in, and this uneasy alliance is born. How did that even work on the ground? You have American special ops, who are used to working with traditional male armies, suddenly partnering with a feminist militia. Michael: It was a total culture shock for the Americans. Lemmon tells this amazing story of a U.S. special operations soldier, Mitch, visiting Kobani after the battle. The town is in ruins. He's gifted a shawl that belonged to a fallen YPJ fighter. Later, at a meeting, a young YPJ woman in her early twenties, with a rifle slung over her shoulder, playfully challenges his teammate, a seasoned veteran. She looks him in the eye and says in accented English, "Hey, how many ISIS did you kill? I bet I killed more ISIS than you did." Kevin: Whoa. I bet he didn't see that coming. Michael: Not at all. The American soldiers were stunned. They realized these women weren't just support staff or a token force. They were the front line. They were the ones who had bled for every inch of that city. Kevin: But this alliance was always on borrowed time, right? The U.S. was trying to balance its relationship with Turkey, a NATO ally that sees the YPJ as an extension of the PKK, a group it considers terrorists. That's a contradiction that can't last. Michael: It couldn't. The entire partnership was a geopolitical tightrope walk. The U.S. needed a ground force to defeat ISIS, and the YPJ and their broader coalition, the SDF, were the only ones who were effective, disciplined, and willing. But Washington was always looking over its shoulder at Ankara. This tension came to a head after the liberation of Raqqa, ISIS's capital. Kevin: What happened in Raqqa? Michael: The SDF, with the YPJ leading the charge, took the city in another brutal, street-by-street fight. At the victory celebration in Naim Square—a place ISIS had used for public beheadings—the fighters unfurled a massive banner of Abdullah Ocalan. Kevin: Oh, boy. I can imagine that didn't go over well in Washington. Michael: It was a diplomatic disaster. The Pentagon publicly condemned it. But for the fighters, it was a declaration of who they were and what they believed in. They had fought and died for this ideology of women's liberation, and they weren't going to hide it. Kevin: So even in victory, the seeds of betrayal were already sown. Michael: They were. And they came to fruition in 2019. After the final territorial defeat of ISIS, President Trump announced a withdrawal of U.S. troops from Syria. This effectively gave Turkey a green light to launch Operation Peace Spring, an invasion of the very areas these women had fought and died to protect. Kevin: A total betrayal. After everything they'd done. Michael: It was a catastrophe. Hundreds of thousands were displaced. The very people the U.S. ambassador had praised for their "tremendous sacrifice" in fighting our common enemy were abandoned.

Michael: And that's the tragic, powerful heart of this story. The Daughters of Kobani proved that a grassroots, women-led movement could defeat a global terror threat and, in the process, build a more equal society in its place. They won the war against ISIS, but the fight for their future, for political legitimacy, is far from over. Kevin: It leaves you with such a profound and unsettling question: What do we owe our allies, especially when they represent ideals of freedom and equality that we claim to champion? Their experiment in democracy and women's rights, forged in the fire of war, is still so fragile. Michael: It is. And their story is a crucial reminder that military victory is only one part of the equation. The political battle that follows is often just as difficult, and the outcomes are never guaranteed. Kevin: It’s an incredible story of courage, but also a cautionary tale about the brutal realities of geopolitics. A powerful and necessary read. We highly recommend it. Michael: This is Aibrary, signing off.