First Official EgyptAir Flight Lands in Tel Aviv

EgyptAir greeted with the traditional water sprays shot in the air in celebration of its first flight
EgyptAir greeted with the traditional water sprays shot in the air in celebration of its first flight
TT

First Official EgyptAir Flight Lands in Tel Aviv

EgyptAir greeted with the traditional water sprays shot in the air in celebration of its first flight
EgyptAir greeted with the traditional water sprays shot in the air in celebration of its first flight

EgyptAir made its first official direct flight to Israel and landed at Tel Aviv's Ben Gurion Airport.

The Israeli Embassy in Cairo tweeted that direct flights are "an important and welcome sign of strengthening bilateral ties between the two countries, especially economic relations."

It welcomed the resumption of flights after a long suspension due to the coronavirus pandemic.

Sunday's flight was greeted with the traditional water sprays shot in the air in celebration. The Israeli embassy published photos of the arrival on its social media accounts.

Since Israel and Egypt signed a peace deal in 1979, flights between the two countries have been offered by a subsidiary of Egyptair, Air Sinai, created exclusively for that purpose in 1982.

Egyptair will now run four flights per week into Israel under its banner, Israeli Airport Authority (IAA) spokesman Ofer Lefler told AFP.

He called Sunday's landing "a historic first."

The move comes after Israeli Prime Minister Naftali Bennett visited Egypt last month for talks with President Abdel Fattah al-Sisi.

Thousands of Israeli tourists typically visit Egypt annually, including the Sinai desert and the Red Sea resorts.

Last month, Israeli media reported that the state-owned EgyptAir would start operating direct flights between Cairo and Tel Aviv, starting in early October.

Israeli Transport Minister Merav Michaeli announced her government lifted a daily cap of 1,200 Israelis allowed to pass through its Taba border crossing to Egypt's Sinai Peninsula.

"We have managed to find a way to both allow unlimited crossings and also observe coronavirus regulations,” The Times of Israel quoted the minister as saying.



Iraqis Face Tough Homecoming a Decade after ISIS Rampage

A woman and a boy in the camp near Hassan Shami for the internally displaced. Safin HAMID / AFP
A woman and a boy in the camp near Hassan Shami for the internally displaced. Safin HAMID / AFP
TT

Iraqis Face Tough Homecoming a Decade after ISIS Rampage

A woman and a boy in the camp near Hassan Shami for the internally displaced. Safin HAMID / AFP
A woman and a boy in the camp near Hassan Shami for the internally displaced. Safin HAMID / AFP

A decade after the ISIS group extremists rampaged through northern Iraq, Moaz Fadhil and his eight children finally returned to their village after languishing for years in a displacement camp.
Their home, Hassan Shami, is just a stone's throw from the tent city where they had been living, and it still bears the scars of the fight against ISIS.
The militants seized a third of Iraq, ruling their self-declared "caliphate" with an iron fist, before an international coalition wrestled control from them in 2017.
Seven years on, many of the village's homes are still in ruins and lacking essential services, but Fadhil said he felt an "indescribable joy" upon moving back in August.
Iraq -- marred by decades of war and turmoil even before the rise of ISIS -- is home to more than a million internally displaced people.
Baghdad has been pushing for the closure of the displacement camps, with the country having attained a degree of comparative stability in recent years.
Most of the camps in federal Iraq have now been closed, but around 20 remain in the northern autonomous Kurdistan region, which according to the United Nations house more than 115,000 displaced people.
But for many, actually returning home can be a difficult task.
After getting the green light from Kurdish security forces to leave the camp, Fadhil moved his family into a friend's damaged house because his own is a complete ruin.
'Beautiful memories'
"Water arrives by tanker trucks and there is no electricity," said the 53-year-old.
Although the rubble has been cleared from the structure he now lives in, the cinder block walls and rough concrete floors remain bare.
Across Hassan Shami, half-collapsed houses sit next to concrete buildings under construction by those residents who can afford to rebuild.
Some have installed solar panels to power their new lives.
A small new mosque stands, starkly white, beside an asphalt road.
"I was born here, and before me my father and mother," said Fadhil, an unemployed farmer.
"I have beautiful memories with my children, my parents."
The family survives mainly on the modest income brought in by his eldest son, who works as a day laborer on building sites.
"Every four or five days he works a day" for about $8, said Fadhil.
In an effort to close the camps and facilitate returns, Iraqi authorities are offering families around $3,000 to go back to their places of origin.
To do so, displaced people must also get security clearance -- to ensure they are not wanted for extremist crimes -- and have their identity papers or property rights in order.
But of the 11,000 displaced people still living in six displacement camps near Hassan Shami, 600 are former prisoners, according to the UN.
They were released after serving up to five years for crimes related to membership of ISIS.
Not that simple
For them, going home can mean further complications.
There's the risk of ostracism by neighbors or tribes for their perceived affiliation with IS atrocities, potential arrest at a checkpoint by federal forces or even a second trial.
Among them is 32-year-old Rashid, who asked that we use a pseudonym because of his previous imprisonment in Kurdistan for belonging to the extremist ISIS group.
He said he hopes the camp next to Hassan Shami does not close.
"I have a certificate of release (from prison), everything is in order... But I can't go back there", he said of federal Iraq.
"If I go back it's 20 years" in jail, he added, worried that he would be tried again in an Iraqi court.
Ali Abbas, spokesperson for Iraq's migration ministry, said that those who committed crimes may indeed face trial after they leave the camps.
"No one can prevent justice from doing its job", he said, claiming that their families would not face repercussions.
The government is working to ensure that families who return have access to basic services, Abbas added.
In recent months, Baghdad has repeatedly tried to set deadlines for Kurdistan to close the camps, even suing leaders of the autonomous region before finally opting for cooperation over coercion.
Imrul Islam of the Norwegian Refugee Council said displacement camps by definition are supposed to be temporary, but warned against their hasty closure.
When people return, "you need schools. You need hospitals. You need roads. And you need working markets that provide opportunities for livelihoods," he said.
Without these, he said, many families who try to resettle in their home towns would end up returning to the camps.