DIYARBAKIR, Turkey — In December 2015, armed clashes raged inside the ancient walls of the district of Sur, the historic heart of Diyarbakir in mainly Kurdish southeast Turkey. Using heavy weapons and even tanks, the security forces battled to regain control of residential neighborhoods, where young militants loyal to the Kurdistan Workers Party (PKK) entrenched themselves behind ditches and barricades. A group of journalists, including this reporter, were touring areas exempt from the round-the-clock curfew imposed on the district when a local resident approached and asked a strange question: “When will the urban transformation finish?” The question made no sense at the time, but the man insisted the clashes had to do with an urban transformation plan.

The topic popped up again a few days later as journalists conversed with a group of people who were forced to flee their homes amid the mass exodus from Sur. The locals were convinced the security operations were more about emptying Sur ahead of an urban transformation drive rather than battling the PKK. As implausible as it sounded, the government’s alleged intention to empty and rebuild Sur in its own way was soon the talk of the town.

Sur, which means “fortress walls” in Turkish, takes its name from the centuries-old walls encircling the old city of Diyarbakir, which was added to UNESCO’s World Heritage List last year, shortly before the unrest broke. Home to some 125,000 people, half of them residents of the ancient walled city, the district is dotted by numerous historical monuments and houses of traditional architecture. Its labyrinth-like neighborhoods, crisscrossed by narrow alleys and dead ends, have proven convenient for PKK militants to hide, escape police raids and organize. At the height of the Kurdish conflict in the 1990s, many impoverished people from villages emptied or burned down by the army settled in Sur, which offered the PKK a fertile base to rally support and recruit members.

The district emerged in ruins from the security operations, which ended after 103 days in early March. Yet the curfew remained in place as heavy-tonnage trucks moved in to remove debris. Still barred from their neighborhoods, the anxiety of locals grew. They knew something was going on, and soon, the alleged urban transformation plan turned out to be true. In late March, the government issued a decree for the expropriation of some 7,000 plots in Sur, corresponding to more than half of the district’s land. Residents now fear losing homes and shops in return for low compensation, while many believe the government plans to destroy the human fabric of the area.