“WE WILL resist to our last drop of blood together… if necessary we will repeat the Stalingrad resistance in Kobane.” The words of Polat Can, a Syrian Kurdish commander, to describe the fight against Islamic State (IS) jihadists for the town on the Syrian-Turkish border may exaggerate the scale of the fighting, but makes plain the emotional and strategic symbolism now attached to Kobane.

On October 29th about 150 Iraqi Kurdish fighters, the Peshmerga, dispatched by cheering crowds in Irbil, set off through Turkey to reinforce their brother Kurds. The deployment was sanctioned by the Turkish authorities, after much haggling.

For the other parties to the battle—America and IS—the confrontation, now in its seventh week, has also acquired increasing importance. For IS, the expectation was of an easy victory that would have given it control over a large section of the border and the main road between its stronghold in Raqqa and Aleppo. But it has now become a test of the group’s military prowess. Winning Kobane would not just deal a crushing blow to Kurdish resistance in northern Syria, but would also send out a message of invincibility in the face of American air power.

America, too, is increasingly committed to saving Kobane. A few weeks ago American officials were keen to downplay the importance of the city, seeing it as a distraction from the wider campaign against IS. Pentagon briefings were resolutely downbeat, suggesting that, despite air strikes, the town might fall to IS at any time. By October 13th IS controlled more than half the town. But in the days that followed the aerial bombardment on IS positions in and around the town both intensified and increased in their accuracy, thanks to direct co-operation with Kurdish fighters on the ground. By the 19th there were air-drops of weapons, ammunitions and medical supplies by C-130 transports. Some ground lost to IS was recovered.

What changed? Partly it was a perception that defeat in Kobane in front of television reporters massed on the Turkish side of the border would only stoke criticism of America’s handling of the campaign. Partly it was a recognition that the fighting qualities of Syrian Kurds could prove invaluable in the long war. And partly it was a realisation that Kobane could be turned into a meatgrinder for jihadists.

IS has been happy to accept the challenge. As well as pouring more men and equipment into the fight, on October 27th it distributed a bizarre five-minute video in which a British hostage, John Cantlie, appeared to dispatch a “news report” from Kobane. Its purpose was to refute the idea that the battle was swinging against IS. Dresssed in black, Mr Cantlie tells the camera that America and its allies “even with all their air power and all their proxy troops on the ground” cannot defeat IS.

It is still not possible say who will prevail in Kobane. Kurdish defenders appear to be outnumbered but in street-to-street fighting the heavy weapons and vehicles that usually give IS its edge are of limited use. IS is up against a foe with nowhere to retreat, an improving supply of arms and continued air support. Kobane may not be Stalingrad, but if it holds out, the psychological damage to IS will be real.