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The church of Mar Addai in Karamlesh, near Mosul The church of Mar Addai in Karamlesh, near Mosul  (AFP or licensors)

Archbishop Najeeb: In ISIS-scarred Northern Iraq, a 'return to humanity'

Ten years after the devastation caused by ISIS in the historic region of Upper Mesopotamia, the Chaldean Archbishop of Mosul speaks to Vatican News about a cautious rebuilding of trust among the inhabitants of the region.

By Delphine Allaire

In June 2014, Mosul and the Nineveh Plains area of northern Iraq were conquered by so-called Islamic State. The terrorists left a trail of destruction in their wake, and a quarter of the population, primarily Christians and Yazidis, fled the city.

The memory remains painful despite the liberation of the city three years later. A decade on, the struggle is not entirely over for the region's inhabitants.

Despite lingering fears, however, some residents are returning. The Chaldean Archbishop of Mosul, who welcomed a Pope to the city for the first time in history in March 2021, spoke to Vatican News about the revival of hope in this Mesopotamian city, a historic symbol of peace and coexistence, at the crossroads of cultures and religions.

Listen to an extract from our interview with Archbishop Najeeb

Interview with Archbishop Michaeel Najeeb, Chaldean Archbishop of Mosul (Iraq)

Q: Ten years on, what are the lingering wounds and scars of the Battle of Mosul?

A: Since the liberation of the Nineveh Plains from the jihadists, the return of Christian families to Mosul remains cautious, though it is quite significant in the Nineveh Plains. This catastrophe struck all inhabitants, not just Christians. Those who remained in Mosul during the ISIS period also paid a heavy price.

A real change is taking place today. Upon liberation, people began to breathe easier, and the infrastructure of Mosul and the Nineveh Plains was restored, along with order in the streets, construction, and most importantly, security. People can walk around at midnight, at two or three in the morning without any problem. There is no overwhelming criminality. There are small issues around Mosul in general, but they remain minor. The lack of work is more pressing. With unemployment and no income, many people turn to violence. We still lament ideological remnants.

What prevents families from returning?

The obstacles are numerous, but it is primarily a financial issue. People have lost almost everything. They were stripped bare when forced to leave Mosul and the Nineveh Plains, carrying only minimal clothing. Everything they had was pillaged. These people must start from scratch.

Despite all the progress in security and infrastructure, people remain worried and hesitant. They share their uncertainties with me: “Archbishop, we cannot return to Mosul or the Nineveh Plains without guarantees.” Yet, no one can provide guarantees. Not even the Church, which also lost everything. Families cannot reinvest in society without support, especially from the government.

The government has only just begun timidly restoring some churches and houses, compensating a little, but it remains insufficient. We have relied from the outset, from the liberation of the Nineveh Plains, on French NGOs like L’Œuvre d’Orient, European or American ones like USAID, to support both the populations and the reconstruction of homes, assisting with the work.

Beyond the financial, the obstacle lies in the lack of confidence in the future. Some people say that if they managed to save themselves with their children and no material possessions the first time, who will guarantee that they will not lose their children this time?

What spiritual and pastoral vitality is emerging from the ruins of a society?

A tree cannot be saved without its roots. Roots give life. In one of our Chaldean villages, famous for its vineyards, about thirty kilometers from Mosul, after liberation at the end of 2016, there was no life left. All the plantations and houses were burned. The embers were still glowing. A field of ruins, without birds, bees, no flora and fauna. Everything was dead. Today, the village is renewed; there are trees, vineyards, houses, and shops. Life is returning.

I have noticed that faith, even among children, adults, and teenagers, has strengthened and increased. Pastoral activities have grown enormously thanks to NGOs that have also supported spiritual and pastoral life. It is a sign of hope for the past four years.

We also celebrate Muslim festivals together. We no longer think in labels and categories as before, in the days of ISIS or Al-Qaeda: "This is a Christian, this is a Muslim, this is a Yazidi." Everyone lives in fraternity with mutual respect.

In the four years I have been based in Mosul, we have never heard of any harm inflicted by our Muslim neighbors. On the contrary, even in the mosques on Fridays when they preach, words that hurt or humiliate us like "infidels," "polytheists," "people who do not respect the law," "Christians will all go to hell" are no longer used. Those who harm Christians are condemned by law.

Even the houses inhabited by Al-Qaeda or ISIS members and their supporters have been “liberated" by the government. Trust is gradually being restored. After all, heritage and art unite us. Young people contribute significantly. They plant trees in the streets, volunteers clean the streets. Not everything is rosy. The harmful ideology of ISIS and Al-Qaeda persists in some minds, but it is gradually being treated.

In the wake of the Pope, after his historic trip in 2021, what small steps do you see in interfaith dialogue with Muslims?

In the East, it is always a monologue (laughs). The one who speaks, and whom others must listen to, is generally the strongest. The word "dialogue" is more of a Cartesian European concept. Here, we are used to the strongest: the dominant religion must speak, others must remain silent or at most listen, giving their opinion without it being directly opposed to the dominant one. The state religion is Islam, period. Despite this, there are reciprocal visits, meetings, sometimes even jokes between us, mullahs, bishops, and priests, without offending each other. We can tell each other the truth and share our ideas without someone pulling out a gun or a Kalashnikov. There is this openness because the law punishes those who harm others. This annoys the extremists. Of course, a true dialogue that would change concepts and ways of living does not exist. For example, there is no religious freedom like in Europe or even in Lebanon, which is much more advanced than other Arab countries in terms of religious freedom and expression.

Can Mosul reconnect with its historic vocation of peace and religious coexistence?

Mosul is the city of Jonah, the city that gave the world many prophets. Today, many Muslims, Christians, Yazidis, Shabaks, are returning to their own history to showcase it. Assyriology in linguistic, historical, architectural terms is returning to the forefront. The walls of Nineveh, for example, have begun to be restored. Young people at the university are drawn to the symbols of the Assyrian and Babylonian empires, to the images of this ancient Mesopotamia, the cradle of writing and humanity. This manifests beautifully through art, monuments, and urbanism. Statues are being reinstated in the streets, we talk about King Nebuchadnezzar again, which was unthinkable some time ago due to accusations of idolatry.

We see fewer and fewer people ideologically closed. I walk in the streets in my red and black archbishop’s robe, people greet me, we have tea, we talk freely without any humiliation or violence.

How do you explain this significant improvement in dialogue and fraternity?

“When one sees death, one accepts evil or sickness,” says one of our proverbs. People have seen so much evil in the acts of ISIS, even against Islam itself, and Islam has paid a high price because of these criminals, that there is a return to humanity. The visit of the Holy Father is not unrelated to this. The Pope’s visit to Mosul shattered the prejudices against Christians. We saw thousands of young children, adults, university students, in the streets with the Vatican flag and the Iraqi flag, it was very touching. People threw sweets at the Pope, at his car. No one has forgotten this visit. The city was so prepared, paved, and cared for the Pope’s visit that people say they hope the Pope comes every year to encourage us to work better. Others wish for a president like the Pope for Iraq.

This has greatly changed mentalities, even if on the ground, we still need solidarity because much infrastructure has been demolished. I call on governments and NGOs not to forget Iraq amidst all the world’s conflicts, even if there is Ukraine, Palestine, the Holy Land, Yemen...

The above is an English translation of an interview conducted in French. You can find the French text, as well as an audio recording, here

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18 July 2024, 12:58