Iraq’s Scattered Christians Ask 'Should I Stay or Go?'

An Iraqi army soldier stands guard by a concrete wall placed by Iraqi security forces to surround the Our Lady of Salvation Church during preparations for the Pope's visit in Baghdad, Iraq, Friday, Feb. 26, 2021. (AP/Photo/Hadi Mizban)
An Iraqi army soldier stands guard by a concrete wall placed by Iraqi security forces to surround the Our Lady of Salvation Church during preparations for the Pope's visit in Baghdad, Iraq, Friday, Feb. 26, 2021. (AP/Photo/Hadi Mizban)
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Iraq’s Scattered Christians Ask 'Should I Stay or Go?'

An Iraqi army soldier stands guard by a concrete wall placed by Iraqi security forces to surround the Our Lady of Salvation Church during preparations for the Pope's visit in Baghdad, Iraq, Friday, Feb. 26, 2021. (AP/Photo/Hadi Mizban)
An Iraqi army soldier stands guard by a concrete wall placed by Iraqi security forces to surround the Our Lady of Salvation Church during preparations for the Pope's visit in Baghdad, Iraq, Friday, Feb. 26, 2021. (AP/Photo/Hadi Mizban)

A militant message, “ISIS endures”, is still graffitied on the front gate of Thanoun Yahya, an Iraqi Christian from the northern city of Mosul, scrawled by militants who occupied his home for three years when they ruled the city.

He refuses to remove it, partly in defiance of the militants who were eventually beaten by Iraqi forces, but also as a reminder that Iraq’s scattered and dwindling Christian community still lives a precarious existence.

“They’re gone, they can’t hurt us,” said the 59-year-old, sitting in his home which he reclaimed when ISIS was driven out in 2017. “But there aren’t many of us left. The younger generation want to leave.”

The stark choice facing many Christians in Iraq will be highlighted during the first ever papal visit to the Biblical nation, Reuters reported. Pope Francis’s trip runs from March 5-8 and will include a stop in Mosul.

Yahya sold the family’s metalwork shop to pay a ransom for his brother, kidnapped by al Qaeda militants in 2004 at a time when Christians were being abducted and executed.

Since then, he has watched siblings leave for foreign countries and work and income dry up.

Of 20 relatives who once lived in the neighborhood, only his family of six remain.

Iraq’s Christians have endured unrest over centuries, but a mass exodus began after the US-led invasion of Iraq in 2003 and accelerated during the reign of ISIS, which brutalized minorities and Muslims alike.

Hundreds of thousands left for nearby areas and Western countries.

Across Iraq’s northern Nineveh Plains, home to some of the oldest churches and monasteries in the world, the remaining Christians often live displaced in villages that fell easily to ISIS in 2014 or in enclaves of bigger cities such as Mosul and the nearby self-run Kurdish region.

The extremists’ rule over almost a third of Iraq, with Mosul as their capital, ended in 2017 in a destructive battle with security forces.

Physical and economic ruin remain. Iraqi authorities have struggled to rebuild areas decimated by war, and armed groups that the government has not been able to control vie for territory and resources, including Christian heartlands.

Christians say they are left with a dilemma - whether to return to damaged homes, resettle inside Iraq or migrate from a country that experience has shown cannot protect them.

“In 2014, Christians thought their displacement would last a few days,” said Cardinal Louis Sako, head of Iraq’s Chaldean Catholic Church.

“It lasted three years. Many lost hope and migrated. There’s no security or stability.”

Iraq’s indigenous Christians are estimated to number around 300,000, a fifth of the 1.5 million who lived in the country before the 2003 invasion that toppled Saddam Hussein.

Christians were tolerated under Hussein, but singled out for kidnappings and killings in the communal bloodshed of the mid-2000s onwards.

Pope Francis is to visit Iraq on an historic trip that eluded his predecessors. He will say a prayer for the victims of conflict at a site in Mosul where old churches lie in ruins, once used as religious tribunals by ISIS.

Christians welcome the visit, but do not believe it will improve their lot.

“The pope can’t help us, only God can,” Reuters quoted Yahya as saying.

Yahya’s family, who fled to Iraq’s northern Kurdistan region during ISIS’s rule, is one of just a few dozen that have returned to Mosul out of an original population of some 50,000 Christians, according to local clergy.

His two teenage sons help out at the local church, the only one fully repaired in Mosul, which fills to about half its modest capacity on Sundays.

Firas, his eldest, finds little more than a day a week of casual labor and sees no future in Mosul, Iraq’s second-largest city.

“If I want to marry, I’ll have to leave. Christian women from here are displaced to other areas and don’t want to come back,” he said. “Ideally, I’d go to the West.”



West Bank Refugee Camp Gets Foretaste of UNRWA's Demise

UN workers clean up after the Israeli raid - AFP
UN workers clean up after the Israeli raid - AFP
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West Bank Refugee Camp Gets Foretaste of UNRWA's Demise

UN workers clean up after the Israeli raid - AFP
UN workers clean up after the Israeli raid - AFP

Residents of Nur Shams camp in the occupied West Bank are fearful for their future after an Israeli raid this week damaged the UN agency for Palestinian refugees office there.

The 13,000 inhabitants of the camp near the northern city of Tulkarem depend heavily on the United Nations Relief and Works Agency for Palestine Refugees.

UNRWA notably runs two schools, a clinic and sanitation services in Nur Shams.

Stunned refugees watched as workers cleared rubble from around the office, which was almost totally destroyed in an "anti-terrorist" operation on Thursday.

"For us, it's UNRWA or nothing," Shafiq Ahmad Jad, who runs a phone shop in the camp, told AFP.

"For the refugees... they look to UNRWA as their mother," said Hanadi Jabr Abu Taqa, an agency official in charge of the northern West Bank.

"So imagine if they lost their mother."

UNRWA chief Philippe Lazzarini blamed the destruction on Israeli forces, saying they had "severely damaged" the office.

But the military firmly denied the accusations, telling AFP that the damage was "likely" caused by explosives planted by "terrorists".

The office will have to be relocated, "a significant investment" according to Roland Friedrich, the agency's head in the West Bank.

"The psychological impact, of course, is devastating," he added after speaking to residents on Saturday.

- 'Attack on right of return' -

From his phone shop whose facade was torn off, Jad watched as excavators removed rubble and technicians repaired communications cabling.

He said he believed the chaos was linked to the Israeli parliament's adoption late last month of a law banning "UNRWA's activities on Israeli territory".

Were the agency to disappear even from the Palestinian territories like Tulkarem, he said the streets would fill with even more rubbish and sick people would go without care.

"To want to eliminate it is to want to eliminate the Palestinian question," Jad said.

Fellow camp resident Mohammed Said Amar, in his 70s, said Israel was attacking UNRWA "for political ends, to abolish the right of return".

He was referring to the principle that Palestinians who fled the land or were expelled when Israel was created in 1948 have the right to return, as do their descendants.

He insisted that Palestinian armed groups did not use the UNRWA premises, which locals consider "sacred".

If the army destroyed the building, as he believed, this meant it always wanted to target it.

Nihaya al-Jundi fumed that daily life was paralysed after every raid and that impassable roads left residents isolated.

Nur Shams needs international organizations like UNRWA to rebuild, said Jundi, whose center for the disabled was damaged and where the wheelchair ramp collapsed.

The camp, established in the early 1950s, was long a fairly quiet, tight-knit community.

But in recent years, armed movements have taken root there against a backdrop of violence between Palestinians and Israelis, economic insecurity and no political horizons.

- 'They worry' -

Two days after the Israeli operation, the internet was still not repaired and some main roads remained an obstacle course.

UNRWA's operations have resumed, however.

"The first thing we do is that we make sure that we announce that the schools are open," said the agency's Jabr Abu Taqa.

"We know how important it is for us to bring the children to what they consider a safe haven," she added.

As she strolled through the camp, many anxious residents approached her.

One young man pointed to a ransacked barber's shop and asked: "What did he do to deserve this, the barber? He no longer has work, money. What will he do?"

Mustafa Shibah, 70, worried about his grandchildren. He turned his radio's volume all the way up during the raids -- but the little ones were not fooled.

"My granddaughter wakes up (from the raids) and bursts into tears," he said.

"They worry, they have trouble getting to school because of the (damaged) road."

For him, the threats to UNRWA are just the latest example of the suffering of Nur Shams residents who feel abandoned by Palestinians elsewhere.

"Why is it only us that have to pay while they dance in Ramallah and have a good life in Hebron?" he asked.

He said Israel "feels they can do anything" with no one to stop them.