Reflection on a Cosmopolitan Iraq

Jay Ramesh

This week, I’d like to do something a little different from what I normally do. Before I talk about a potential reemergence of the civil war in Libya next week, I’d like to take a step back and share some of my thoughts from a discussion I had with a professor from Mosul University. 

Mosul University is the second largest university in Iraq, with a total enrollment of around 30,000 students. It was almost completely destroyed when ISIS invaded Iraq- they shut down the entire University except for the department of History (which of course they tried to completely rewrite the curriculum for), Arabic language, and a small program for learning basic English, without literature. 

I had a discussion with one of the professors of Mosul University, Dr. Hijran Abdulelah Ahmad, who lived under the ISIS occupation. Rather than sharing my thoughts on the discussion as a whole, I’d like to highlight one obscure thing that stuck out to me and got me thinking about history and Iraqi society. 

One completely random thing that stuck out to me was something that Dr. Hijran said about Mosul itself. He pointed out how, for thousands of years, Mosul had always been a melting pot of different cultures, languages, religions, and ethnicities, a truly cosmopolitan jewel of the Middle East. ISIS came in and destroyed that- they blew up shrines, drove Christians and Yazidis out, persecuted the Turkmen, Assyrians, and Kurds, and tried to fuel sectarian divides. There's a lot of things we can take away from that, but one thing that I don't think is talked about at all is how Mosul sticks out like a sore thumb in western views of Iraq. 

In the West, we always view Iraq as this place of sectarian conflict, where identities are strong, geography and ethnography clearly separate groups, and politics is based off of these divides. However, Mosul, and Baghdad before 2003, represent challenges to these binary ideas. They show something we often don't think about, a Cosmopolitan Iraq where people of all different kinds come together and can learn to accept their differences and peacefully coexist. 

Though cities like Karbala may be completely shi’ite-dominated while other cities like Fallujah have large Sunni populations, Mosul and Baghdad are the exceptions- places where minorities are accepted, religions of all sorts are tolerated, and people can live together, respect each other, and embrace their differences.

History itself is political. Because it's interpretive, we view history as binaries, factors, and interests that all come together, and in almost all cultures (with the exception of some indigenous tribes and ancient philosophies) we view time as linear. Because of this, we tend to spin history into our own narratives- we're as guilty of doing this as ISIS was. 

For instance, some people try to view the crusades as this great conflict of civilizations between Christians and Muslims, others view the Cold War as a struggle between haves and have-nots, and others still view the 20th century as a conflict between completely made up and unclear definitions of Eastern and Western civilization.

Dr. Hijran's comment made me think about all of this in the context of Iraq, and how my own narratives shape the way I interpret history. It's not something to be ashamed of- history is a story and will inherently be a narrative of connected events. But as I’ve learned more and more about Iraqi history, immersed myself in its music and culture, and met its people, I’ve begun to string together my own narrative of Iraqi history.

My narrative of Iraq is that, despite all the violence, despite all the lives lost, dreams ruined, and economic prospects squashed, the conflict has shown us that there are really just two types of people: Those who want to live in peace with others different from them, and those who want to burn it all down, for selfish reasons. It's a spectrum, and I think that every person who's involved in, read about, or lived through the conflict can fall somewhere on the spectrum. 

Some people just want to teach a new generation of Iraqis, no matter their backgrounds, that it's okay to be different from others, and that differences shouldn't lead to identity politics and hatred. Others see diversity as a weakness and want to burn everything to the ground to create a new world order intolerant of backgrounds; people who wield history as a weapon to justify heinous crimes, oppression, and brutality in the name of a selfish future. 

Iraq has been torn apart by this spectrum. I can only hope that the new generation of young Iraqis can see what violence, greed, corruption, and hatred has wrought upon their home. It may be too late to undo the mistakes of the past, but it's not too late for Iraq to build a better future. Hopefully the country can confront the ghosts of its past and build a society in which everyone can be treated fairly, has a voice in their government, and where the people can finally end 40 years of war, economic stagnation, intolerance, and suffering.

For a better tomorrow.