'Leave Our Marshes Alone': Iraqis Fear Oil Drilling Would Destroy Fabled Wetlands

A fisherman on Iraq's receding marshes that straddle the border with Iran. Asaad NIAZI / AFP
A fisherman on Iraq's receding marshes that straddle the border with Iran. Asaad NIAZI / AFP
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'Leave Our Marshes Alone': Iraqis Fear Oil Drilling Would Destroy Fabled Wetlands

A fisherman on Iraq's receding marshes that straddle the border with Iran. Asaad NIAZI / AFP
A fisherman on Iraq's receding marshes that straddle the border with Iran. Asaad NIAZI / AFP

Plans to drill for oil in the protected Mesopotamian Marshes of southern Iraq have galvanized villagers and activists determined to save the mythical wetlands already battered by years of drought.

"We will never accept it," marshes activist Murtada al-Janubi told a meeting, seeking to reassure anxious residents gathered in a traditional hall made of woven reeds from the wetlands, to discuss the government's plans for the UNESCO-listed area that is their home.

Everyone nodded in approval.

If they fail to save the Huwaizah Marshes, "a historical era... with its heritage and southern identity will vanish for ever", Janubi, 33, told AFP during a tour of the wetlands that straddle the Iraq-Iran border.

The millennia-old history of the marshes -- the reputed home of the biblical Garden of Eden -- "would end with this oilfield", said the moustached, tanned activist.

In 2023, as China became a major player across various sectors in Iraq, the oil-rich country awarded a Chinese firm the rights to explore the Huwaizah field.

Several residents of Abu Khsaf, the village in Missan province where the meeting with activist Janubi was held, said that at the time they did not fully grasp the implications.

Only this year, when heavy machinery was brought in to conduct seismic studies and open a new road, did the residents say they recognized a "threat" to the swamplands that have sustained their traditional way of life.

The government says that the oil and environment ministries are collaborating closely to avoid endangering the wetlands, and that any activity would occur near, not inside, the marshes.

Satellite images of the area from March, which AFP obtained from Planet Labs, show tracks left by heavy vehicles.

Wim Zwijnenburg of Dutch peace organization PAX said the images point to the "rapid" construction of "a 1.3-kilometre-long dirt road in the vegetation of the marshes".

'All we want is water'

Missan province already has several oilfields, including one just kilometers (miles) from the marshes.

Its emissions fill the sky with heavy grey smoke, and its gas flares can be seen from the fishing boats that roam the depleted marshes, suffering after years of harsh drought and dwindling water supplies.

Nestled between the Tigris and Euphrates rivers, the Mesopotamian Marshes depend on rivers and tributaries originating in neighboring Türkiye and Iran.

Sparse rainfall and reduced water flows blamed on climate change, upstream dams and government rationing have created shortages with severe impacts on the marsh ecosystem.

Residents expect the marshes to dry up in summer, hoping for a long-absent good rainy season to revive them.

The current water level in many areas is less than a meter (three feet) deep. Um al-Naaj lake, once teeming with fish, is now just three meters deep, compared with at least six before the drought.

Rowing his boat on the lake, fisherman Kazem Ali, 80, said that while the new project may create some jobs, "we, the average people, will not benefit".

"All we want is water," he said.

Rasul al-Ghurabi, a 28-year-old buffalo farmer, said he would never quit "the marshes and the freedom that comes with them" even if the oil company offered him a job.

Protected core

One cool March morning, as he led his buffaloes to the marshes to graze, Ghurabi was surprised to see workers laying cables and drilling holes.

A cable caused one of his animals to stumble, he said.

The marshes contain a core area that serves as a habitat for numerous species, including migratory waterbirds, surrounded by a buffer zone for protection.

Activists have accused authorities of conducting seismic studies within the core, which the state-owned Missan Oil Company denies, saying that the vehicles spotted in the area were carrying out work for a separate field nearby and had since left.

The Huwaizah oilfield was discovered in the 1970s, and Iraq shares it with Iran, which has been extracting oil for a long time.

The Missan Oil Company says that 300 square kilometers (116 square miles) of the field's area overlap with the marshes' buffer zone, but that the oilfield does not encroach on the core.

An environmental impact assessment concluded in 2024 would provide "the baseline for work in the field", the company said, adding that exploration would take place "without harming the natural habitat".

According to environment ministry official Jassem Falahi, the protected status of the marshes does not bar development projects.

"But investment is subject to specific conditions and standards that must not disturb the core area... or affect the site and its biodiversity," he told AFP.

Balance

Iraqi activist Ahmed Saleh Neema, a vocal advocate for the protection of the marshes, expressed concerns that oil companies might not adhere to regulations and further drain the marshes.

A UNESCO spokesperson told AFP that "concerns have been raised in recent years" over the potential impact of oil-related activities on the marshes.

Across the border in Iran, local media have long warned against the environmental impact of oil projects.

In a report earlier this year, two decades into oil activities in the wetlands known in Iran as Hoor al-Azim, the Tasnim news agency said energy companies had obstructed water flows and drained areas to build infrastructure.

Tasnim also said that oilfields have polluted water resources.

Environmental activist Neema said authorities should strike "a balance between two great resources: the oil and the marshes".

Iraq is one of the world's largest oil producers, and crude sales account for 90 percent of state revenues.

But while oil is financially vital, the marshes represent the livelihood of its people and "the heritage, the folklore, and the reputation of Iraq", Neema said.

Back in the village of Abu Khsaf, Janubi said: "Our region is already teeming with oilfields. Isn't that enough?"

"Leave our marshes alone."



Georg Baselitz, the German Painter Who Turned Postwar Art Upside Down, Dies at 88

German artist Georg Baselitz attends the opening of his exhibition "The Heroes" (Die Helden) at the Staedel museum in Frankfurt, Germany June 29, 2016. (Reuters)
German artist Georg Baselitz attends the opening of his exhibition "The Heroes" (Die Helden) at the Staedel museum in Frankfurt, Germany June 29, 2016. (Reuters)
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Georg Baselitz, the German Painter Who Turned Postwar Art Upside Down, Dies at 88

German artist Georg Baselitz attends the opening of his exhibition "The Heroes" (Die Helden) at the Staedel museum in Frankfurt, Germany June 29, 2016. (Reuters)
German artist Georg Baselitz attends the opening of his exhibition "The Heroes" (Die Helden) at the Staedel museum in Frankfurt, Germany June 29, 2016. (Reuters)

Georg Baselitz liked to insist — sometimes as a taunt, ‌sometimes as a shield — that he did not know how to paint. That he had "no talent".

Rejected at 17 by the Dresden Academy of Fine Arts, he talked his way into an academy in East Berlin only to be expelled two semesters later for "sociopolitical immaturity".

"I was stupid," he recalled. "I was uneducated, but I was a rebel."

From that rebellion, Baselitz forged a career that made the child of Nazi Germany, schooled under Soviet communism, into one of the defining artists of postwar Germany.

The painter and sculptor, known for his depictions of raw bodies and inverted landscapes, has died at the age of 88, Germany's Die Welt newspaper reported on Thursday. No cause of death was given.

A REBEL SHAPED BY TWO DICTATORSHIPS

Georg Baselitz was born Hans-Georg Bruno Kern on January 23, 1938, in the Saxon village of Deutschbaselitz, a name he later adopted.

His father, a village schoolteacher and Nazi Party member, recorded Hans-Georg's birth in his diary. Inexplicably, he recorded the birth of none of his other four children, the Sächsische Zeitung daily reported in 2018.

After the war, ‌his father was ‌barred from teaching. Baselitz's mother took over his duties at the school.

Baselitz spent his childhood ‌amid ⁠the unforgiving discipline of ⁠Nazi Germany, and his adolescence amid the rubble and ideological re-education of the country's Soviet occupation zone.

"I was born into a destroyed order, a destroyed landscape, a destroyed people, a destroyed society," he later recalled. "And I didn't want to reestablish an order: I had seen enough of so-called order. I was forced to question everything, to be 'naive', to start again."

After he was expelled from the East Berlin academy, he moved to West Berlin, where he finished his studies and absorbed modernism in a way that felt, he said, like a sudden intake of oxygen.

He recalled the shock of first seeing works by Jackson Pollock and other abstract expressionists — evidence, in his telling, that ⁠the United States had a serious culture despite what he had been taught.

But rather than ‌imitate an American style, Baselitz turned back to German sources, drawing on expressionism, ‌folk traditions and imagery often dismissed by critics as ugly or even "degenerate".

SCANDAL AS A CALLING CARD

At a 1963 solo show in Berlin, authorities ‌seized two of his paintings on obscenity grounds. The episode made Baselitz famous.

The early pictures, marked by raw bodies, stunted masculinity and abrasive humor, were widely seen as provocation.

Supporters and museum curators have also framed them as a blunt report on postwar German life: damaged, compromised and struggling to find a new footing.

That sensibility carried into his mid-1960s "Heroes" paintings, which presented hulking, battered figures that looked less like victors than survivors ‌stumbling out of a defeated national myth.

But Baselitz's most recognizable works came in 1969, when he began painting motifs upside down.

After earlier experiments that fractured or partially inverted figures, he ⁠produced fully inverted works including "The ⁠Wood on Its Head" and "The Man by the Tree".

He did not simply flip finished images, he composed and painted them inverted from the start.

That approach altered how viewers read his works. By disrupting recognition, it forced attention onto the mechanics of painting — its color, balance and composition.

"An object painted upside down is suitable for painting because it is unsuitable as an object," Baselitz said.

The inversions made Baselitz an international figure in the 1970s and 1980s, as the market and institutions that once treated him as scandalous increasingly positioned him as a pillar of European postwar art.

His public reputation, however, did not settle into quiet respectability.

He repeatedly sparked backlash with remarks about female painters, including a widely reported claim that women "don't paint very well".

He also confronted the limits Germany's history places on gesture and imagery: a wooden sculpture shown at the 1980 Venice Biennale was widely read as evoking a Nazi salute, a reading he denied.

He was married to Johanna Elke Kretzschmar, known as Elke, with whom he had two sons.

In later life, Baselitz painted huge canvases from his wheelchair and moved his brushes and paints in a rolling cart.

"The sensible thing, in my situation, would naturally be to say: 'I stick to small formats'," he told Spanish newspaper El Pais at age 87. "But of course I don't do what's sensible. What's right for me is the nonsensical."


Saudi Arabia Holds Cultural Event in Moscow to Mark Centenary of Ties with Russia

The event marked 100 years of Saudi-Russian bilateral relations. SPA
The event marked 100 years of Saudi-Russian bilateral relations. SPA
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Saudi Arabia Holds Cultural Event in Moscow to Mark Centenary of Ties with Russia

The event marked 100 years of Saudi-Russian bilateral relations. SPA
The event marked 100 years of Saudi-Russian bilateral relations. SPA

The Saudi Ministry of Education, in cooperation with the Kingdom’s embassy in Russia, organized an academic and cultural event titled “A Century of Friendship and Cultural and Scientific Exchange between the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia and the Russian Federation” at the headquarters of the Peoples' Friendship University of Russia in Moscow.

The event marked 100 years of bilateral relations since 1926 and aimed to strengthen cultural and educational exchange, which has grown over the past decades.

The opening ceremony was attended by Saudi Ambassador to Russia Sami Al-Sadhan, Deputy Minister for International Cooperation Dr. Latifa Al-Faryan, and Rector of the Peoples' Friendship University of Russia Dr. Oleg Yastrebov, along with several academic and diplomatic officials from both sides, and broad participation from Saudi scholarship students and international students.

During the ceremony, Al-Faryan said that the ministry is continuing its plans to expand high-quality international partnerships, strengthen cooperation in higher education, scientific research, and innovation, and support academic exchange programs.

The scientific and cultural event in Moscow featured a series of academic sessions with leading scholars from Saudi and Russian universities, alongside the honoring of several individuals and institutions that contributed to advancing joint scientific and cultural cooperation.

Holding the event in Moscow reflects the Saudi Ministry of Education’s direction to consolidate academic partnerships between Saudi Arabia and Russia and to strengthen educational cooperation as a pillar of bilateral relations, supporting sustained knowledge exchange and the development of educational and research opportunities between the two countries.


Diving Robot Explores Mystery of France's Deepest Shipwreck

Marine Sadania, a maritime archaeologist in charge of scientific and heritage management for the PACA Coastal Observatory, observes the “ROV C 4000,” a remotely operated vehicle manufactured by the French company LD Travocean and designed for seabed exploration,  during its launch aboard the Jason (BSAA), chartered for an archaeological mission on the wreck of the CAMARAT 4 off the coast of Ramatuel, in southeastern France on April 7, 2026. (Photo by Thibaud MORITZ / AFP)
Marine Sadania, a maritime archaeologist in charge of scientific and heritage management for the PACA Coastal Observatory, observes the “ROV C 4000,” a remotely operated vehicle manufactured by the French company LD Travocean and designed for seabed exploration, during its launch aboard the Jason (BSAA), chartered for an archaeological mission on the wreck of the CAMARAT 4 off the coast of Ramatuel, in southeastern France on April 7, 2026. (Photo by Thibaud MORITZ / AFP)
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Diving Robot Explores Mystery of France's Deepest Shipwreck

Marine Sadania, a maritime archaeologist in charge of scientific and heritage management for the PACA Coastal Observatory, observes the “ROV C 4000,” a remotely operated vehicle manufactured by the French company LD Travocean and designed for seabed exploration,  during its launch aboard the Jason (BSAA), chartered for an archaeological mission on the wreck of the CAMARAT 4 off the coast of Ramatuel, in southeastern France on April 7, 2026. (Photo by Thibaud MORITZ / AFP)
Marine Sadania, a maritime archaeologist in charge of scientific and heritage management for the PACA Coastal Observatory, observes the “ROV C 4000,” a remotely operated vehicle manufactured by the French company LD Travocean and designed for seabed exploration, during its launch aboard the Jason (BSAA), chartered for an archaeological mission on the wreck of the CAMARAT 4 off the coast of Ramatuel, in southeastern France on April 7, 2026. (Photo by Thibaud MORITZ / AFP)

Deep below the surface of the Mediterranean off the French coast, the pincer of a remotely guided underwater robot delicately closes around a centuries-old jug lying near a 16th-century shipwreck.

"You have to be extremely precise so as not to damage the site, so as not to stir up sediment," says navy officer Sebastien, who cannot give his second name for security reasons.

A two-hour journey from the French Riviera, Sebastien is overseeing the first of several archaeological missions on the deepest shipwreck in French territorial waters.

A routine army survey of the seabed uncovered the 16th-century merchant ship by chance last year in waters off the coast of Ramatuelle, close to Saint-Tropez.

Archaeologists believe the ship was sailing from northern Italy loaded with ceramics and metal bars before it sank.

Now the French navy and the culture ministry's underwater archaeology department are back to inspect the surviving artifacts lost more than 2,500 meters (1.5 miles) below sea level.

- Cannon, piles of jugs -

The navy is keeping secret the location of the wreckage site, which they have dubbed "Camarat 4" -- even if most people would unlikely have the means to reach a site so deep.

The sun has barely risen when the mission's navy tugboat arrives on site, carrying an underwater robot and two large containers acting as makeshift offices for marine archaeologists.

Its crew lower the robot -- which is equipped with cameras as well as pincers -- into the water.

A navy officer guides the robot down, linked to the ship through a long cable, as experts monitor its slow descent on screens.

An hour later, the device -- which is designed to plunge as deep as 4,000 meters -- is gliding over piles of round pitchers on the sea floor.

Slowly, through its cameras, it reveals the wreck to the team sitting on deck, AFP reported.

It captures footage of a cannon, as well as hundreds of pitchers and plates, decorated with floral motifs, crosses and fish.

The robot shoots eight pictures per second for three hours, grabbing more than 86,000 images that will then be used to create a 3D model of the site.

Archaeologist Franca Cibecchini is delighted the water is so clear.

"The visibility is excellent. You almost can't tell it's so deep," she says.

"It is most likely a merchant ship carrying glazed pottery from Liguria," a region in the northwest of Italy, Cibecchini adds.

She says it could have been loaded on to the ship in the ports of Genoa or nearby Savona.

- 'Valuable information' -

Marine Sadania, the lead archaeologist on the underwater dig, says findings will be key to understanding trade routes at the time the ship sank.

"We don't have very detailed texts about merchant ships in the 16th century, so this is a valuable source of information on maritime history," she says.

The experts hold their breath as the robot lowers a pitcher into a case as gently as possible, so as not to break it.

A third of all ceramics extracted from sea digs end up breaking, Sadania says.

In total, the team hauls up several jugs and plates.

Back on land, in a laboratory in the southern port city of Marseille, Sadania runs water over one of the jugs.

Dark blue lines run across its rounded side, creating rectangles, some of which are colored in with turquoise blue or decorated with saffron-yellow symbols.

"It's one of the deepest objects ever recovered from a wreck in France," she says.