Iraq’s Christians return to homes ravaged by Isil
YOUNO KAREMI ACHEM stood in the doorway of the church and surveyed the damage left by Isil fighters. The interior had been torched and daubed with graffiti, while outside the courtyard had been used as a shooting range.
The Iraqi army liberated the Christian town of Qaraqosh late last month during the operation to recapture Mosul, the Islamic State of Iraq and the Levant stronghold in Iraq, 11 miles to the northwest.
After fleeing more than two years ago, Christians such as Achem are now making their way back to inspect their homes, collect photo albums and kiss the thresholds of their churches. But it will be a long time before they can return permanently.
“Seeing what they did to your city, your house, your church, you think: ‘Can we live here again?’” he asked. “I don’t want to leave Iraq but this is a ghost town.”
Beyond the physical damage to their villages, Iraqi Christians feel betrayed and distrustful of Iraqi and Kurdish authorities – both of whom failed to defend them against Isil. Now, like other minority groups in Nineveh region, they are seeking autonomy similar to Iraq’s Kurdistan.
Qaraqosh was once Iraq’s largest Christian town, with a population of 55,000 mostly Assyrian worshippers. When Isil swept across the plains in summer 2014, Kurdish Peshmerga forces withdrew and Nineveh’s Christians fled. An estimated 150,000 sought refuge in Kurdistan, an hour’s drive east.
For many, Isil spelled the end of Christianity in Iraq. Already in the decade of sectarian violence that followed the US invasion, Iraq’s Christian population had declined from over one million to fewer than 400,000. By the time Qaraqosh was retaken, up to 40 per cent of Nineveh’s Christian community had left Iraq.
Those who remain must now be convinced they have a future in Iraq. One step towards this is an autonomous region with its own security apparatus, says Jawad Habib Abush. A former Iraqi army officer, Abush is the head of the Nineveh Protection Units (NPU) in Qaraqosh, a Christian militia now patrolling the town. “We’re not willing to let them kill us again,” he said. “We have to protect ourselves.”
The NPU is funded by Baghdad but manned by local Christians like Abush. He and other Christian leaders are also seeking guarantees of protection from the international community. “This is the best thing for us, because we don’t trust them,” he said, referring to Iraqi authorities.
Repopulating the town will require rebuilding, and an estimated $25million (£20 million) is needed just to restore essential services. “After we provide normal services – water, electricity, and clear all the mines – people will return,” said Abush.
But hopes for rapid reconstruction dim when Christians consider the plight of another Nineveh township 110 miles due west. The Yezidi town of Sinjar was recaptured by Kurdish forces last November, but a year on most of the population are yet to return.
“It’s not a good example for us,” said Ashur Eskrya, president of Christian relief organisation the Assyrian Aid Society. “A solution for the region is for every minority to have their own administration. This is something allowed for by the Iraqi constitution.”