At the first light of dawn some twenty boys and girls, visibly excited, wait for the bus to arrive in front of the Iraqi Social Forum office in Baghdad.
The temperature has already risen to almost 100 degrees. They’re between 17 and 29-years-old and belong to different Iraqi civil society organizations that believe another Iraq is still possible. Their destination is Chibayish, 270 miles south of Baghdad, in the heart of the Mesopotamian marshes. They are going to participate in the Marshes Festival, a new initiative organized by local association Humat Dijlah, the Nature Iraq Organization, and the Italian Un Ponte Per…, aimed at bringing attention to the water issue in Iraq.
“We are going to see our beautiful marshes,” says Salman Khairalla, a 25-year-old charismatic boy of small stature. “The lack of water policies and dams built by Turkey and Iran are affecting the local people. We are at risk of losing our intangible culture.” Khairalla is the coordinator of the civil society advocacy campaign “Save the Tigris and Iraqi Marshes,” part of the Iraqi Civil Society Solidarity Initiative launched in 2012 to protect the heritage and water resources of Mesopotamia from the impact of large dams, to raise awareness about climate change and pollution, and to promote sustainable management of the Tigris River and its tributaries.
The Iraqi Marshes were inscribed into the Unesco World Heritage List in 2016, after years of campaigning by Save the Tigris. Despite the international success, the water level is still very low and a catastrophic drought is threatening Iraq. Furthermore, the construction of disruptive megaprojects, such as the Ilisu Dam in Turkey and Daryan Dam in Iran, are set to have a destructive impact on water flows to Iraq.
As soon as the capital is left behind, large stretches of palm trees appear over the horizon and the landscape changes instantaneously. The grey concrete t-walls gradually give way to small shrubs and high, green-leafed reeds. In the distance small huts begin to appear, made with ancient building methods, using mud, straw, and reeds.
Narrow waterways, almost completely dry, cross the arid yellow fields. Along the channels, the Ma’dan – the “Marsh Arabs” of Sumerian origin – ride the traditional mashouf, a canoe-like boat. Chibayish was once home to many more Ma’dan, Shia Muslims who lived on the broad marshes that stretched across 20,000 square kilometres. In the early 1990s, Saddam Hussein drained these unique wetlands of southern Iraq as a punishment to the region’s Marsh Arabs who had backed an uprising against him.
Thousands of people were killed and displaced, putting the very cradle of civilization – as the marshlands are sometimes described – under threat. After the fall of the dictator, the marshes were re-flooded, but today they are again at risk. Climate change, dams, and poor water policy could finish off the marshes Saddam once sought to destroy. With them, rich ecosystems and the unique Marsh Arab culture would be lost.
Cradle of Civilization
The Mesopotamian marshlands are one of the world’s great wetlands and an important center of biodiversity, replete with vegetation, birds, fish, buffalo, and humans. They play a vital role in the intercontinental migration of birds and have long supported unique human communities. The Marsh Arabs whole way of life has revolved around the marshes for 5,000 years. They live in floating houses made entirely of reeds harvested from the water and survive by fishing and raising buffalo.
“If there were no marshes, there would be no Sumerians. Without rivers, we would not have this civilization – not because of the water but because of the way of transporting things, so you have the connection between people. That’s what makes the unity of the place,” says Rashad Salim, a bearded man in his fifties, sitting inside a Mudhif, a traditional guesthouse constructed out of reeds and ropes. He is an Iraqi expeditionary artist and designer with a particular interest in the history and tangible and intangible culture of the marshes. He joined the Marshes Festival to present the “Safina Project,” his ambitious plan aimed at reviving Iraq’s ancient crafts and boats. It focuses on the protection of Mesopotamian cultural heritage, the crafts, the material, and the techniques, as well as traditional embroidery. Salim believes that there is a connection between crafts and the environment, and that the protection of the environment could preserve the Iraqi culture.
“As a river-based society, Iraq’s watercraft and maritime heritage are central to our culture. Today, Iraq is again enduring a time of crisis, through conflict and climate change. Moreover, most of the boats are made in fiberglass and resin, material that is not from the environment. Only two families can make the original boats of Sumerians. For the first time in the history of Mesopotamia we have lost our intangible culture,” he says.
Inside the Mudhif a local sheikh, wearing a traditional white dishdasha, pays tribute to the visitors. Guests and festival participants are welcomed with a delicious Masgouf, the ancient smoked fish of Iraq. Young Iraqi activists sit next to archaeologists, international scholars, and local people. “This is not only our Iraqi heritage,” exclaims Salim. “It’s a world heritage and if we protect the environment, we will protect this millenarian world culture.
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