As one of President Öcalan’s earliest comrades and a founding leader of the Kurdistan Workers’ Party (PKK), Rıza Altun became a symbolic figure in the Kurdish freedom struggle. His martyrdom on 25 September 2019 was honored with deep respect in the final declaration of the PKK’s 12th Congress.

Comrades Haydar Varto, Serhat Engizek, and Rauf Karakoçan spoke to ANF, sharing memories of Rıza Altun’s unwavering determination, self-sacrifice, and lifelong dedication to his people.

 Meeting in the field of President Öcalan

How did you come to know Rıza Altun?

Haydar Varto: Before sharing how I met comrade Rıza and the memories we lived together, I would first like to respectfully commemorate all our martyrs, with deep gratitude and reverence, especially comrade Rıza and Ali Haydar Kaytan.

Speaking about Rıza is both difficult and easy. It is difficult because his martyrdom brought a deep sense of sorrow. We shared a profound friendship, spent many years together, and created meaningful memories. We had joyful times. So, to recount his life is painful, but it also offers important lessons. That’s what makes it hard. And yet, it is easy, because comrade Rıza was a vibrant, witty, intelligent comrade, someone who made friendship something truly meaningful. One always wanted to live beside him. His life was simple and beautiful, and for that reason, it is easy to speak of him.

I spent time at the field of President Öcalan in both 1996 and 1997. That’s where I met him in person. I had already heard of him before, through comrades in the guerrilla, in prison, and outside, especially regarding his resistance in prison. Those who knew him told stories about his life, his resistance. We knew the name Rıza Altun. He was one of the first to join and had become well known. We had heard of him from afar, he was a resisting comrade who stood firm alongside Hayri and Mazlum in the Diyarbakır (Amed) Prison, and his defiance left a mark. So yes, we had heard of him.

But our first actual meeting happened either in 1996 or 1997, I can’t recall exactly, at the field of President Öcalan. We saw each other there. I was in the education cycle at the time, and comrade Rıza was working in Syria. One day he visited the academy. He spoke with us, exchanged ideas. We didn’t get to know each other closely then; it was a brief encounter. We didn’t spend much time together during that first meeting.

Later, we truly got to know each other in the mountains, in the guerrilla. Around 2007 or 2008, we were together in Xinêrê (Xinere). From that point on, until the middle or summer of 2014, we remained together. We worked side by side on the Political Committee. During that period, we had countless discussions. I learned a great deal from him. Those years are ones we will always remember with respect, a time marked by shared struggle, learning, and genuine camaraderie.

First encounter in Zap

Rauf Karakoçan: I respectfully commemorate all our martyrs, especially comrade Rıza and Ali Haydar Kaytan, and bow with gratitude before their memory. Without a doubt, the comrades whose martyrdoms were announced at the PKK 12th Congress hold a unique place not only in the life of the party but also in our personal journeys of struggle.

I met comrade Rıza in the spring of 1996, in Zap. He was the commander of the Zap Headquarters. We had just arrived from the city, a group of nearly 30 comrades. He welcomed us all at the entrance of the headquarters, standing, and greeted each of us individually. I stayed there for over a month, waiting for comrade Cuma to arrive. During that time, I would have occasional daily conversations with comrade Rıza before leaving the headquarters. That was how we first got to know each other.

My first impression of him was that he had a rather stern demeanor. In fact, he carried himself with a certain pride. I had already heard of comrade Rıza from afar. At the time, there were major PKK trials in the prisons. I had also spent time in prison myself, and I had read many of the indictments. His name came up frequently. So I had become familiar with him through those legal documents.

He was extremely active, with a high level of initiative. He had taken on roles that left a mark on the movement, leadership positions, military command, pioneering cadre. That’s what the records reflected. When I first met him in person, he truly embodied that presence and spirit. He had a powerful and distinctive stance, commanding, able to assert himself, to make people listen, and to ensure his words carried weight.

A first encounter in Tuzluçayır, 1976

Serhat Engizek: I commemorate all our martyrs with deep respect, especially comrade Rıza and comrade Fuat. I first met comrade Rıza in the autumn of 1976, in Tuzluçayır, Ankara. At the time, I was a young man, only 19 or 20 years old, with a budding interest in the Apoist movement. I had friends in Europe, some of whom were from Tuzluçayır. They had certain connections, and it was through their ties to the local group there that I became involved. We began meeting, having discussions, going back and forth.

Still, I was someone who had no real knowledge of socialism, revolutionary politics, or Apoism. But I was drawn to leftist ideas, especially the Kurdish question, and that’s what sparked my curiosity. I decided to return from Europe to Tuzluçayır in order to join the Apoists. By then, their name had begun to spread, they were taking action. When I arrived, I met with several comrades: comrade Rıza’s brother Haydar (also known as Kara Ömer), as well as Ali, Yusuf, and others. I came to know the whole group. We lived together for about a week, spending our days in discussion and debate.

Eventually, the comrades said, “There’s a training session, let’s go.” I said, “I’d like to come too.” Comrade Haydar replied, “Let me ask the others,” since I wasn’t yet involved in any organizational activity with them and I had ties to another group at the time. They consulted comrade Rıza, and he said, “It’s too early, maybe later.” That put Haydar in an awkward position. He was wondering how to explain to me that they would go on to the training and I could not join. I asked, “So you don’t trust me? How are we supposed to be comrades then?” I wanted to know who had rejected me. He answered, “Şirket” (which was comrade Rıza’s nickname, meaning “Company”).

I said I wanted to meet him in person. One day, as Haydar and I were sitting in a corner café chatting, comrade Rıza walked by. I stood up and followed him. I caught up to him just as he was turning down a street and said, “Wait, I need to speak with you.” He looked at me and replied, “What business could you possibly have with me?” I said, “I heard you said this and that.” He answered, “I have things to do right now, I can’t deal with you,” and walked away. I had no choice but to let him go.

At the time, I thought they didn’t trust me. I asked myself how I could work with them under such circumstances. I was disappointed and upset. I went back to the others and said, “I’m not going to work with you.” That was how our first meeting took place.

What can you tell us about Rıza Altun’s struggle, his participation, and his stance?

His practical intelligence always stood out

Haydar Varto: I had the chance to get to know comrade Rıza more closely after 2007 and 2008. At the time, he had returned from Europe, where certain issues had arisen. Later, he joined us. Comrade Rauf was also with us, we stayed together. Comrade Rıza often acted as an advisor to us. Above all, he was incredibly intelligent. Truly, he had a sharp mind. His practical intelligence always stood out.

He hadn’t received much formal education, if I remember correctly, he only completed primary school. But he educated himself remarkably well. He read extensively in Europe, within the movement, and during his time in prison. He was a genuine intellectual. He had reached a high level of personal enlightenment. Despite having a background as a tough street youth in his early years, he became someone who constantly developed himself, reading, researching, and striving to enlighten both himself and those around him.

His sense of humor was always at the forefront

He had a strong ability to discuss, explain, teach, and analyze the ideological and theoretical questions of the movement. At the time, we weren’t entirely familiar with the books we were writing. Sometimes we wrote things that were, frankly, quite absurd. Others would make fun of us for it and rightly so. That pushed us to do more research. Eventually, we produced a good book, after doing proper research.

Comrade Rıza encouraged us to study and learn more. His style was often humorous, witty, even teasing at times, but it motivated comrades to investigate deeper, to reflect more, to think critically. His sense of humor was always at the forefront. Let’s say you were very tense or frustrated about something you considered incredibly serious, he would dissolve that tension with a simple joke and make you realize it wasn’t so heavy after all.

He was someone who brought meaning to life through humor, storytelling, and his understanding of life’s depth, yet he also knew how to laugh at it all. That’s part of why he was so beloved. Wherever comrade Rıza was, life was never dull. He was full of joy and wit, his presence brought energy, like a celebration. He was incredibly creative, incredibly full of life.

He was like a school

Rauf Karakoçan: We spent nearly two years in the same environment, day-to-day conversations, meetings, debriefings, and practical tasks. His connection with the people was extraordinarily dynamic. Those who got to know him quickly became attached. Through his style, conversations, and humor, he became a magnetic presence. Time passed quickly wherever he was.

He had a sharp, quick-witted personality. When things got stuck, he would step in with a firm hand to open the way and find a solution. Above all, he was clever, humorous, quick to respond, comrade Rıza was like a school.

Whether in literature, poetry, or diplomacy, he was a model figure, an institution in himself. He was also extremely direct. Let me share a memory from his time in diplomatic work: Relations with Iraq were not progressing as desired. There was a military officer named Abu Nawaf, appointed during Saddam’s era. Comrade Rıza used to hold meetings with him to address the problems of the Maxmur Camp.

One day, when a meeting wasn’t going well, comrade Rıza took off his slipper and threw it, expelling the officer representing Saddam’s regime. The Iraqi official trembled in fear before comrade Rıza. He had dismissed a state representative, that was the kind of authority he commanded.

Naturally, the people of the camp were thrilled. It brought great morale, trust, and enthusiasm to the community. And comrade Rıza always took full responsibility for his bold actions. He would carefully weigh the risks and consequences of any step. He rarely engaged in anything he didn’t believe he could win. His sense of calculation was clear. Even in the most difficult conditions, he had the ability to make people laugh, motivate them, and get things done.

Haydar Varto: Let me add a few words to complete comrade Rauf’s reflections on Maxmur: in truth, it is comrade Rıza who ensured the continued existence of Maxmur. Without him, that camp would not have survived. The people of the camp have not forgotten comrade Rıza and in the hearts of the people of Maxmur, he holds a very special place.