Baath Archive Opens Debate, Old Wounds in Iraq

This handout picture provided by the Iraq Memory Foundation on September 10, 2020 shows a man sitting atop documents found in one of the Baath Party’s headquarters in the Iraqi capital Baghdad at an unknown date. (Photo by - / IRAQ MEMORY FOUNDATION / AFP)
This handout picture provided by the Iraq Memory Foundation on September 10, 2020 shows a man sitting atop documents found in one of the Baath Party’s headquarters in the Iraqi capital Baghdad at an unknown date. (Photo by - / IRAQ MEMORY FOUNDATION / AFP)
TT
20

Baath Archive Opens Debate, Old Wounds in Iraq

This handout picture provided by the Iraq Memory Foundation on September 10, 2020 shows a man sitting atop documents found in one of the Baath Party’s headquarters in the Iraqi capital Baghdad at an unknown date. (Photo by - / IRAQ MEMORY FOUNDATION / AFP)
This handout picture provided by the Iraq Memory Foundation on September 10, 2020 shows a man sitting atop documents found in one of the Baath Party’s headquarters in the Iraqi capital Baghdad at an unknown date. (Photo by - / IRAQ MEMORY FOUNDATION / AFP)

A trove of Saddam-era files secretly returned to Iraq has pried open the country's painful past, prompting hopes some may learn the fate of long-lost relatives along with fears of new bloodshed.

The five million pages of internal Baath Party documents were found in 2003, just months after the US-led invasion that toppled Saddam, in the party's partly-flooded headquarters in tumultuous Baghdad.

Two men were called in by confused American troops to decipher the Arabic files. One was Kanan Makiya, a long-time opposition archivist, the other was Mustafa al-Kadhemi, then a writer and activist, and now Iraq's prime minister.

"With flashlights, because the electricity was out, we entered the waterlogged basement," Makiya told AFP by phone from the US "Mustafa and I were reading through these documents and realized we had stumbled upon something huge."

There were Baath membership files and letters between the party and ministries on administrative affairs, but also reports from regular Iraqis who were accusing their neighbors of criticizing Saddam.

Other papers raised suspicions that relatives of Iraqi soldiers taken prisoner during the 1980-1988 war with Iran were potential traitors.

As sectarian violence ramped up in Baghdad after the US-led invasion, Makiya agreed with occupation force authorities to transfer the massive archive to the US, a move that has remained controversial.

The documents were digitized and stored at the Hoover Institution, a conservative-leaning think tank at Stanford University, with access restricted to researchers on-site.

But on August 31, the full 48 tons of documents were quietly flown back to Baghdad and immediately tucked away in an undisclosed location, a top Iraqi official told AFP.

Neither government announced the transfer, and Baghdad is not planning to open the archive to the public, the official said.

This could disappoint the thousands of families who may have a personal stake in the archive's contents.

"Saddam destroyed Iraq's people -- you can't just keep quiet on something like that," said Ayyoub Al-Zaidy, 31, whose father Sabar went missing after being drafted for Iraq's 1991 invasion of Kuwait.

The family was never given notice of his death or capture and hopes the Baath archive could hold a clue.

"Maybe these documents are the beginning of a thread that we can follow to know if he's still alive," said Ayyoub's 51-year-old mother Hasina.

She spent the 1990s pleading with the Baath-dominated regime for information on her husband's whereabouts, and holds little hope of more transparency now.

"At this rate, I'll be dead before they make them public."

Some argue the archive could help Iraq prevent its blood-stained history from repeating itself.

"Many kids nowadays say 'Saddam was good,'" Murtadha Faisal, an Iraqi filmmaker, told AFP.

Faisal was 12 days old when his father was arrested in the holy city of Najaf during a 1991 uprising. He has not been heard from since.

He wants the archives opened to end any rosy nostalgia or revisionism about Baath rule, which some have praised compared to today's instability under a fragmented political class.

"People should realize how not to create another dictator," he said. "It's already happening -- we have a lot of small dictators today."

Divisions over the Baath's legacy still run deep, and some of its defenders argue the archives would serve to exonerate Saddam's rule.

"Making the archives public would prove the Baath party was patriotic," insisted a former low-ranking party member in comments to AFP.

Those fault lines are precisely what makes the archive's return a "reckless" move, said Abbas Kadhim, the Iraq Initiative Director at the Atlantic Council.

"Iraq is not ready. It has not started a process of reconciliation that would allow this archive to play a role," said Kadhim, who pored over the documents to write several academic books on Iraqi history and society.

What he found even implicated current officials, he said.

"Baathists documented everything, from a joke to an execution. Politicians, tribal leaders, people in the street will begin to use it against one another," he added.

Others say the files could be redacted to make them less inflammatory, but still accessible to local academics.

"The least we can do is have them available to Iraqi researchers the same way they were to American ones," said Marsin Alshamary, an incoming fellow at the US-based Brookings Institute who also used the archive for her PhD.

The US remains in possession of several archives seized after the 2003 invasion, including "even more dangerous government files," a second Iraqi official told AFP.

One day, Makiya hopes, all the blood-stained events retold in these documents will be part of Iraq's distant past.

"We can't remember the glories of 'the land between the two rivers' and the Abbasid empire, and forget the 35 years of actual horror that modern Iraq lived through," he told AFP.

"That is as much a part of what it means to be an Iraqi today as those romantic things."



Palestinian Children in East Jerusalem Could Lose Their Schools as Israeli-Ordered Closures Loom 

Laith Shweikeh, 9, sits at his desk at the UNRWA Boys' School run by the UN agency for Palestinian refugees in the Shuafat Refugee Camp in east Jerusalem, Tuesday, April 29, 2025. (AP)
Laith Shweikeh, 9, sits at his desk at the UNRWA Boys' School run by the UN agency for Palestinian refugees in the Shuafat Refugee Camp in east Jerusalem, Tuesday, April 29, 2025. (AP)
TT
20

Palestinian Children in East Jerusalem Could Lose Their Schools as Israeli-Ordered Closures Loom 

Laith Shweikeh, 9, sits at his desk at the UNRWA Boys' School run by the UN agency for Palestinian refugees in the Shuafat Refugee Camp in east Jerusalem, Tuesday, April 29, 2025. (AP)
Laith Shweikeh, 9, sits at his desk at the UNRWA Boys' School run by the UN agency for Palestinian refugees in the Shuafat Refugee Camp in east Jerusalem, Tuesday, April 29, 2025. (AP)

Standing in the east Jerusalem school he attended as a young boy, Palestinian construction worker Ahmad Shweikeh studies his son’s careful penmanship. This classroom may be closed Friday, leaving 9-year-old Laith with nowhere to study.

Shweikeh, 38, says he wants Laith — a shy boy, top of his class — to become a surgeon.

"I never expected this," Shweikeh said. "I watched some of my classmates from here become engineers and doctors. I hoped Laith would follow in their footsteps."

The school is one of six across east Jerusalem run by the United Nations agency for Palestinian refugees called UNRWA. Israeli soldiers in riot gear showed up at the schools last month and ordered them to shut down within 30 days. Now parents worry that their children will lose precious opportunities to learn. And they fret for their children's safety if they are made to enroll in Israeli schools.

The closure orders come after Israel banned UNRWA from operating on Israeli soil earlier this year, the culmination of a long campaign against the agency that intensified following the Hamas attacks on Israel Oct. 7, 2023.

UNRWA is the main provider of education and health care to Palestinian refugees across east Jerusalem, which Israel captured in the 1967 Mideast war. While UNRWA schools in the Israeli-occupied West Bank have not received closing orders, the closures have left in limbo the nearly 800 Palestinian students in first through ninth grade in east Jerusalem. Israel has annexed east Jerusalem and considers the entire city its unified capital.

Israel says it will reassign students to other schools The Israeli Ministry of Education says it will place the students into other Jerusalem schools. But parents, teachers and administrators caution that closing the main schools for the children of Palestinian refugees in east Jerusalem promises a surge in absenteeism.

For students in the Shuafat refugee camp, like Laith, switching to Israeli schools means crossing the hulking barrier that separates their homes from the rest of Jerusalem every day.

Some students aren’t even eligible to use the crossing, said Fahed Qatousa, the deputy principal of the UNRWA boys’ school in Shuafat. About 100 students in UNRWA schools in Shuafat have West Bank identifications, which will complicate their entry past the barrier, according to Qatousa.

"I will not in any way send Laith to a school where he has to go through a checkpoint or traffic," Shweikeh said.

In a statement to The Associated Press, the Israeli Ministry of Education said it was closing the schools because they were operating without a license. The agency promised "quality educational solutions, significantly higher in level than that provided in the institutions that were closed." It said that it would "ensure the immediate and optimal integration of all students."

Qatousa fears the students will lose their chance to be educated.

"Israeli schools are overcrowded and cannot take a large number of students. This will lead to a high rate of not attending schools among our students. For girls, they will marry earlier. For boys, they will join the Israeli job market," Qatousa said.

Laith remembers the moment last month when the troops entered his school.

"The soldiers talked to the schoolteachers and told them that they were going to close the school," Laith said. "I don’t want the school to close. I want to stay here and continue to complete my education."

His teacher, Duaa Zourba, who has worked at the school for 21 years, said teachers were "psychologically hurt" by Israel's order.

"Some of the teachers panicked. They started crying because of the situation, because they were very upset with that, with the decisions. I mean, how can we leave this place? We’ve been here for years. We have our own memories," Zourba said.

Israel claims that UNRWA schools teach antisemitic content and anti-Israel sentiment. An UNRWA review of textbooks in 2022-2023 found that just under 4% of pages contained "issues of concern to UN values, guidance, or position on the conflict."

An independent panel reviewed the neutrality of UNRWA after Israel alleged that a dozen of its employees in Gaza participated in Hamas’ Oct. 7 attacks. The panel issued a series of recommendations, including that UNRWA adopt a "zero-tolerance policy" on antisemitic views or hate speech in textbooks.

The Israeli Education Ministry says parents have been directed to register their children at other schools in Jerusalem. Parents told the AP they have not done so.

Zourba said she still plans to hold exams as scheduled for late May. UNRWA administrators pledged to keep the schools open for as long as possible — until Israeli authorities force them to shut down.

The day AP reporters visited the school, Israeli police fired tear gas into the school’s front yard as boys played soccer outside. The gas billowed through the hallways, sending children sprinting indoors, drooling, coughing and crying.

Police spokesperson Mirit Ben Mayor said the forces were responding to rock-throwing inside the camp but denied targeting the school specifically.

As gas filtered through the school, Zourba donned a disposable mask and ran to check on her students.

"As teachers in Shuafat, our first job has always been to ensure the protection and the safety of our kids," she said. "Whenever there’s a raid, we close windows. We close doors so that they don’t smell very heavy tear gas."

"The goal," she said, "is for the kids to always think of this school as a safe place, to remember that there’s a place for them."