Dana Mohammed
Whenever Sherwan Sherwani’s freedom becomes a real possibility, fear grips those in power. For them, the liberation of a single individual who refuses to compromise with oppression represents a profound threat to their political, social, and economic existence. They view freedom itself as a dangerous force, undermining their fragile legitimacy.
Those who oppress Sherwan and others like him are so deeply authoritarian and hostile to human dignity that they cannot imagine a society where people live as equals. They believe they must always be rulers—never the ruled.
The tragic stories of inhumane treatment against Sherwan Sherwani are not isolated events. They are part of a broader strategy: to transform one man’s peaceful struggle into a battlefield of intimidation. The relentless interrogations, the years of separation from his wife and children, the denial of a father’s presence even in the face of death—all of these punishments are intended to break him. Yet they have failed. Instead, these sacrifices have turned Sherwan into a symbol of resistance.
It is a bitter irony that a political party claiming 79 years of history now stands paralyzed by one man armed only with his pen and his convictions. Masrour Barzani, in particular, lives with an uneasy fear: he knows that once Sherwan Sherwani walks out of prison, he will not be silent. On the contrary, he will be welcomed as a leader, not as a defeated man.
The Kurdistan Democratic Party (KDP) had hoped that silencing Sherwan would preserve their monopoly on power and suppress any sparks of dissent. They believed that imprisoning him would keep society in the same fearful silence that prevails in Shaqlawa, Mergasur, and Sari Rash. Yet the opposite has occurred: events are unfolding in a way that shows Sherwan is no longer merely a 36-year-old prisoner, but a future leader. His nine years of prison, his endurance, and the solidarity he has received from both local and international communities have elevated him to a higher intellectual and moral standing.
Masrour Barzani may take pride in his premiership, but beneath that pride lies fear—the fear that Sherwan will reemerge as a statesman of greater stature, embodying humanist and democratic values. If that moment comes, Sherwan’s name will not fade into obscurity. Instead, history will record him as a national figure whose voice could not be silenced.
The day Sherwan Sherwani is freed will also be the day when the ruling families of Kurdistan must confront their greatest struggle—not against a foreign enemy, but against their own people, whom they have exploited as the foundation of their wealth and power. They fear nothing more than losing their grip on authority, privilege, and personal enrichment.
Even today, their desperation is clear: like cornered cattle, they lash out at every voice of dissent. They even attempt to suppress the voices that emerged during the court sessions against Sherwan—voices that challenged the legitimacy of a sentence rooted in political vengeance rather than justice.
Sherwan Sherwani’s continued imprisonment is not only a violation of individual rights; it is a direct reflection of the deep political insecurity of those in power. His eventual freedom will mark not just the release of one man, but the beginning of a reckoning that the ruling elites have long tried to postpone.
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