Once first, Iraq’s Sunnis fear future
Even with ISIS gone, no easy way back to top for them
KHAZIR CAMP, Iraq — Fawaz Saleh Ahmed has been secretly sneaking into his own village in northern Iraq to visit his home.
The last time he went, he wept as he spent several hours going from room to room in the partially destroyed house, he said. When his tears dried, he made his way back to the nearby Khazir camp housing people displaced by war, where he and his family have lived for almost a year.
Tantalizingly, he can see his house from there, but the Kurdish forces controlling his village, called Hassan Shami, won’t allow him to return to live. “That is my house there on the hill, do you see it?” said Ahmed, a member of Iraq’s oncedominant Sunni Arab minority.
The 39-year-old Ahmed’s predicament is part of the wider disaster facing Iraq’s Sunni Arabs. Three years of war have freed their lands from the rule of the Islamic State group but have also left the community at its lowest state ever. Sunnis are feeling lost, unsure what their place will be in the country’s future and worried that the Shiite majority and the Kurds aim to change the demographics of some Sunni areas to impose their own control.
Sunnis have been barred from returning to their homes in numerous villages and towns that the Kurds seized during fighting with Islamic State militants in a belt of territory across the north stretching down to Iraq’s eastern border.
Kurdish officials cite security reasons for not allowing residents back, even though Islamic State, also known as ISIS, was driven out of the area late last year. At the same time, the Kurds have repeatedly said they intend to incorporate the captured territory into their own self-rule zone — even as they plan a referendum for outright independence later this month. That raises questions over the future of Sunni Arab villages like Hassan Shami.
Farther south, Iranianbacked Shiite militias that captured mainly Sunni territory have also kept Sunnis from returning to strategic areas between Baghdad and the Iranian border or other areas Shiites consider vital.
Sunni Arabs, meanwhile, are faced with the depth and magnitude of their plight. The fear among Iraqi authorities and the Sunnis themselves is that new militant groups could take root unless the community’s situation is improved.
Their cities and towns lie in partial ruins from the fight that drove Islamic State out of most of the territories it seized in 2013 and 2014, from northern Iraq through the country’s center and across the Sunni heartland of the western Anbar province. Thousands of Sunnis languish in detention for alleged links to the group.
The community has suffered massive displacement. Currently, 3.2 million people are displaced, the overwhelming majority Sunni Arabs. An additional 2 million-plus were displaced previously but have since returned home, according to the International Organization of Migration. Together that would be a staggeringly high proportion of the country’s entire Sunni Arab population, which is generally estimated to make up 15 to 20 percent of Iraq’s 37 million people.
Those who have returned — mainly to Anbar — must rebuild homes and communities, so far with little help from the government. Those still displaced scramble to find housing or jobs or languish in camps. More than 400,000 of those displaced in nearly a year of fighting to liberate Mosul, Iraq’s second-largest city, are housed in 19 camps around the north.
Sunni Arabs have struggled since the 2003 U.S.-led invasion, which brought down Saddam Hussein and opened the door for the Shiite majority to gain power through elections. Sunnis were relegated to second-tier status, igniting an insurgency that brought years of violence and gave rise to al-Qaida and its successor, the Islamic State. Over those years, divided Sunni politicians were ineffectual, and many Sunni professionals and businessmen left the country.
Some Sunnis talk of trying to form their own selfrule region like Kurdistan. But many are wary, knowing the Sunni-majority areas have far fewer resources. “We Sunni Arabs are the weakest link in Iraq today. But trust me, this country will not be stable and strong again unless we assume a leading role in how the country is run,” said Adnan Abu-Zeid, a schoolteacher from Mosul.
But this kind of bravado masks a widespread despair. “Back in 2003, we wanted democracy and freedoms. Look where that got us,” said Ghazi Hamad, displaced from Mosul. “We have now lowered our expectations. Any government is good for us, as long as it makes us feel safe. We will happily live on the sidelines.”
In a sign of resignation and distrust of Shiites, some Sunni Arab tribal chiefs in the north are even publicly campaigning for their areas to join the Kurdish region. The Kurds are overwhelmingly Sunni, but divisions run along ethnic lines with Sunni Arabs.
The Baghdad government routinely says it wants the displaced to return. Officials cite security concerns and lack of basic services as reasons some do not return.
But Sunnis worry over signs of forced demographic change in particular strategic areas.
For example, Sunnis have had difficulty returning to parts of Diyala province, which borders both Iran and the Iraqi Kurdish autonomy zone. A recent International Organization of Migration survey found that nearly 80 percent of Sunnis displaced from two sampled towns in Diyala had tried to return home but were prevented, whether by Kurdish forces or Shiite militiamen.