South Sudan is highly susceptible to both protracted conflicts and the impacts of climate change. Before 2011, the country experienced a long and deadly civil war. Disputes continued after independence, with violence often spilling over across borders and into nearby countries. Local impacts of climate change (e.g., droughts, flooding) disrupt economic growth and community livelihoods, potentially contributing to conflict and destabilising the region. Climate adaptation and food security can therefore have important implications for reducing violence, particularly social conflicts that involve local ethnic militias, civil defence forces, and vigilantes.
To test these implications, I collected monthly information on climate adaptation and food security projects implemented by nongovernmental organisations in South Sudan and its bordering countries between January 2012 and December 2022. Such measures include, among others, planting more resilient crops, building dams and granaries, managing environmental resources such as grazing land or water reservoirs, and training locals in more effective sustainable food production.
Unfortunately, I did not find that these types of adaptation projects have any impact on social conflict or civil war. In fact, at least in South Sudan, there was the risk that they might be associated with more conflict. A project manager I interviewed provided one explanation: “South Sudan is a complex crisis country …[while] flooding and drought have led to displacements, people move into new geographies, and conflict scenarios shift.” In these complex situations, adaptation can exacerbate these dynamics, especially if the root cause is political or socioeconomic; or, as another local policy ethnographer explained, “you cannot just ask for a local solution and detach national politics from the local issues.”
However, I did find one interesting exception. Adaptation interventions that emphasised general preparedness – including, for example, efforts to plant more resilient crops, train locals in more effective sustainable food production, and create sharing tools for renewable resources like water – were associated with lower rates of social conflict, both within South Sudan and across the border.
Why might adaptation that emphasises general preparedness help in alleviating violence? One explanation builds on the nature of social conflict actors. Social conflict actors are more prevalent than military, police, or rebel groups in the region because they thrive in contexts of weakened or decentralised government. Because these actors are more dependent on locally-sourced crops and cattle, they may also be more sensitive to the effect of weather shocks upon these resources. Adaptation strategies that emphasise general preparedness can address – albeit imperfectly – a wider range of unexpected weather shocks, reducing the need for violent competition over scarce resources.
Another explanation emphasises the disruptions the civil war caused to local livelihoods. As one policy researcher explained, by emphasising specialised adaptation, “programming tends to incentivize specific livelihood strategies…which do not respond to local livelihood trajectories.” This can increase uncertainty about the future, considering climate change’s effects are hard to predict. In contrast, adaptation strategies that emphasise building general resilience can provide local communities with more flexibility, allowing them to choose whether to maintain traditional livelihoods or, if needed, adapt to new ones.
Regardless of which explanation is correct, the finding that adaptation programs that emphasise general preparedness may help reduce conflict illustrates how important it is to consider a broad set of direct and indirect outcomes when trying to tailor climate adaptations to conflict contexts.
Nevertheless, it can be hard to convince donors who fund adaptation that this approach makes sense. Donors have their own expectations when choosing which project to fund, which leads to “top-down” pressures that often do not conform well to the local realities, where social conflict poses a constant hardship. The problem is that, “[m]ost donors don’t understand the complexities…it’s really difficult to be able on the one hand to put a proposal that supports donor demand but on the other hand, is really context driven,” as one policy practitioner explained.
At the same time, it is imperative to convince donors that considering a wider range of outcomes will improve the chances of success. Understanding how interventions designed to support climate adaptation and promote food security can be tailored to local conditions in conflict settings is crucial. By investing in projects that have a better chance not only of improving adaptation in the immediate terms, but also of reducing the risk of violence, we can improve long term resilience, thereby preventing conflict from disrupting livelihoods and harming adaptation efforts.
Dr Omar Mohammed is a renowned historian and the voice behind ‘Mosul Eye’, a blog which anonymously documented life under Islamic State (IS) in the city of Mosul, Iraq. Today, the Mosul Eye Association focuses on promoting the recovery of Mosul and its cultural heritage, as well as empowering the city’s youth. The most important task Mosul Eye is undertaking is to promote Mosul globally to replace the negative image of the city after its fall to IS in 2014 and the subsequent destruction.
Hi Omar. Thanks for joining us. Please could you explain what Green Mosul is?
Green Mosul was an initiative started by Mosul Eye, and ultimately led by youth, to plant trees in the city of Mosul, but really it has two definitions. It refers to the greening initiative, which was the effort to repopulate Mosul with green space after the massive estruction that took place during the conflict. But it really aimed at, and can be defined as, an initiative to support reconciliation in post-war Mosul.
Following the conflict, there was a need to bring the people together, and to do that we needed to find something everyone could relate to. We wanted to disconnect them for a short time from the religious and social problems in the city, and we settled on one thing they could agree on: a tree. A tree doesn’t have a religion. It doesn’t have an ethnicity. It only has what benefits the community: clear, clean oxygen, a good view, and the ability to create a nice landscape.
Green Mosul ran from March 2022 to March 2023, and, in that time, we planted 9,000 trees in Mosul and the wider Nineveh province. When we started the initiative, we signed agreements with the local government and with the universities, and one of the terms was that they would commit to planting trees every year. Green Mosul has now technically ended, but the University of Mosul and the Technical University of Mosul continue to plant trees on an annual basis, and the local government has also dedicated a portion of the budget to planting trees every year. Our initiative didn’t stop when we finished our work. We wanted to make sure that it continued and that others could build on it.
Was it easy to get the support you needed to launch Green Mosul? How was the idea first received?
At the very beginning, we sought the support of the Iraqi government, but they wanted to see results before they got involved. I then approached the French government, as I knew they were interested in such initiatives. Their cultural attaché liked the idea, so I went away and developed the initiative amongst the community. One month later, the French government approved the idea, and Green Mosul was borne. Once we’d secured the funds, the local authorities were keen to support us, and we signed agreements with the forestry department, the municipality, the universities, and with other entities in the city. It became a fully Mosuli initiative, where the people and the government were working together for a common interest: the urban greening and, at the same time, the rehabilitation of the social fabric of the city.
Was it important for you to have the local authorities involved?
It was. One of the hurdles to post-conflict recovery in Iraq is that many people see the authorities as dysfunctional. I might agree with them, but I see that there is a way of utilising this dysfunctional government by making it functional – and the only way to make it functional is when you involve them. So Mosul Eye brought the Green Mosul initiative to the government, and they helped make it happen. We didn’t have cars to transport the trees, so we used the municipality’s cars. We didn’t have the ability to create the irrigation system for the trees we were planting, so we used the forestry department. I think their involvement also helped the initiative grow. Members of the public are not necessarily aware of what ‘social cohesion’ is, but they saw Green Mosul as a reliable initiative because of how many people were involved.
Through Green Mosul, we were also aiming to create trust between the authorities and the population. We wanted it to be a collective effort, because the initiative also focused on a very important principle, which is that the process of healing has to be collective in order for it to be strong and impactful. Mosul Eye helped the government to understand the critical importance of social cohesion and of rehabilitating the social fabric, but at the same time, the government gave us the equipment and the space. I think we contributed collectively, and that’s why I always say that this is an initiative of Mosul – it’s not just an initiative of Mosul Eye. It’s important to show the people that they have agency in the process of their healing. They need to own it.
What was the response like among the local community? Were people keen to get involved?
We had a specific communication strategy when we first approached the local communities. We made sure to keep the same distance with the community leaders and the public, because we didn’t want to create the impression that Green Mosul was only for elites. So we spoke to the Yazidis, to the Christians, to the Shia, to the Sunni, and to the endowment administrations of the Yazidis, the Christians, the Shia, and the Sunni. We made sure that the first communication was with the public, and then we facilitated their own communication with their community leaders. Once the locals initiated the conversation, the community leaders came to us, and asked to get involved.
In fact, one of the places where we planted trees was as a result of communication with a woman from Tel Keppe. She told us there was an empty park in the city, and the community wanted to use it to create a space for their children, but the land was owned by the church. It wasn’t easy to convince the church at that time, and distrust between the different religious communities was still strong. We were trying to avoid being labelled religiously – we were trying to be seen only as individuals who had an interest in rehabilitating these spaces – so I spoke to the head of the church and explained that it was a great space. The church would probably receive more visitors if people came to the public park, and everyone would be happy. The priest agreed, and we created a public space where there was both a religious site and a secular site. Today, the same priest is asking me for more trees to be planted.
Within the communities, we also started receiving offers from people saying they didn’t just want trees to be planted in their space, but they wanted to contribute trees to be planted elsewhere. One person also suggested that we plant trees for those lost during the conflict, and then everyone started coming forward with names. They wanted to put the name of their son or daughter, or their mother or father, with this tree or this tree. In the first few months, it was Mosul Eye and the municipality running Green Mosul, and then it became led by the people themselves.
Were the sites where the trees were planted important, or was it more about the process of bringing different communities together?
The two things were intertwined. Some of the sites we chose were religious, because we wanted to try and encourage young Muslims to go to Sinjar and plant trees around the worshipping place of the Yazidis, for example, and young Yazidis to go to Bashiqa or to Mosul and plant trees inside al-Nouri mosque and Al-Saa’a church. We tried to treat these sites holistically, so we communicated to the people of those faiths that we had an interest in their religious space, but, at the same time, they were also heritage sites and public spaces for the people. We did the same in the Shia, the Sunni, the Christian, and the Yazidi majority areas, but there was one condition: that a Yazidi plants in a Muslim side and a Muslim plants in a Yazidi side and so on.
Green Mosul also planted trees in heritage sites, and we had an agreement with UNESCO, whose supervision those sites were under. We planted trees in their sites, but on the condition they would become part of the public space. We always tried to make sure that the planting of trees was seen as being outside the lens of religion – it was a holistic approach that involved everyone.
You mentioned distrust between religious communities earlier – was it difficult to persuade a person from one religion to plant trees at the religious site of another?
At the beginning, it was difficult, and sometimes we needed to have difficult conversations. But we also trained around 25 people from all communities to use as the face of the initiative. They would reach out to their communities, and they would explain that they were there wishing no harm, but they were there to contribute to the community. And when people saw the results – when they went to a place with no trees and when they went back and saw the trees planted – they understood. After a short time, things went smoothly.
When you started Green Mosul, what did you hope the outcome would be?
To be honest, when we started, I had fears it would not succeed. Given the gravity of what had happened in the city, I was concerned people might not be interested. But we started Green Mosul with three goals. One was that we would create a sense of responsibility among the people. Many had become disconnected from the city as a result of what had happened since 2003, and we wanted to reintroduce a sense of responsibility among citizens to contribute to their city. Our second aim was to introduce a mechanism of communication between communities that wasn’t about religion or ethnicity. The third was to create trust between the government and the public. I still make sure I communicate everything I do with the government, and then I communicate this to the public. I wanted to reintroduce the meaning of governance. I wanted the public to know the government is not just people sitting behind closed doors, but that they themselves can gain access to them and work with them.
We’ve achieved those three things, but we’ve also created friendships between different communities. They still visit each other, they are friends with each other, and they are still communicating. These different communities are working together, and that’s what we aimed to do, and we succeeded. I’m so happy about the results. I’m so happy about the involvement of the community. I’m so happy that we were able to do this in a complicated context, where people are still healing. This means there is potential for people to work together in Mosul to create a sustainable future for themselves, but it will take time.
The other element we introduced is that we raised awareness about climate change in a very complicated context – imagine talking about climate change in a city that is heavily destroyed and where people are still missing. But Green Mosul succeeded in introducing the conversation around climate change, and the university is now running research and attracting more researchers to work on the subject. One topic which is dear to me is what I call ‘green heritage’. I saw the impact of the destruction of cultural heritage on the people and the potential conflicts that it might create, and I realised that, although Islamic State might not come back, there is another enemy: climate change. It’s important to address this when we speak about preserving cultural heritage. The recovery of Mosul’s cultural heritage plays an important role in the collective healing from generational trauma, and it gives hope to the people that social cohesion is still possible as well as limiting the impact of radicalisation.
It sounds like Green Mosul has been a great success. How important do you think it is to have grassroots-led vs authority-led initiatives in Mosul?
I think encouraging the grassroots to lead more initiatives is fundamental for a healthy rehabilitation of Mosul, because not all recovery efforts succeed in meeting the results they intend. A quick rehabilitation might bring the opposite outcomes, so it’s important to create a sense of responsibility among the grassroots so they feel they have a say in what’s happening. Now is the right time to work on this, and invest in this, because we are still in the process of rebuilding and healing. It’s the best time frame we have to enable people to develop this sense of responsibility.
At the same time, we shouldn’t ignore the government. The government can always contribute, and opportunities can always be created if there’s a will, a sense of responsibility, and most importantly, diplomatic expertise – because it’s all about how you communicate your ideas in a post-conflict environment.
In Mosul, we need less focus on religion. When rehabilitation efforts target certain religious groups, they’re not talking about justice for all. They’re just reinforcing divisions. Create the space, and let people be the way they want. I think let’s talk more about trees than religion. You can plant trees in a mosque or in a church, but it doesn’t have to be because they’re a mosque or a church. It can be because you care about the environment or because you simply want to enjoy green space.
You can read more about XCEPT’s research on reconciliation initiatives in Iraq here: Iraqi heritage restoration, grassroots interventions and post-conflict recovery: reflections from Mosul
When conflicts arise around fragile or contested borders, there are knock on effects that impact local, national and regional economies, as well as relationships between state and non-state actors. XCEPT’s Local Research Network partners are studying examples of such disruptions in different regions. In Syria, Kheder Khaddour looks at the northern region, where the border with Türkiye represents a lifeline for the millions of people displaced by Syrian civil war. Azeema Cheema studies the shifting relationship between authorities in Pakistan and Afghanistan since the Taliban’s takeover, and the effect on trade and migration policies at their shared border. Lastly, Ahmed Musa explains what’s been happening in Las Anod, a major trading hub in the Horn of Africa that has been destabilised by competing actors vying for influence.
Disclaimer: The opinions, findings, and conclusions stated herein are those of the speakers and do not necessarily reflect those of the partner organizations or the UK government.
Bangladesh is facing a climate emergency. Although it is one of the world’s least polluting nations, it is already experiencing some of the most severe effects of changing weather patterns. The country lies close to sea level, and much of the land is river delta that is prone to seasonal flooding, erosion, and salinity intrusion and faces the risk of devastating cyclones, all of which can be catastrophic for local communities and their livelihoods. Many families are unable to recover from such climate disasters and are forced to move to other parts of Bangladesh or across borders to rebuild their lives.
Unsurprisingly, Bangladesh has become a prominent voice in global conversations about climate change and the need for international responsibility-sharing. Developing nations generally shoulder an outsized share of the costs of climate change compared to wealthier nations, a fact recently recognised in global forums such as the United Nations Climate Change Conference, which convenes the annual Conference of Parties, or COP. In its 27th sitting, in 2022, the COP established a loss and damage fund for vulnerable countries, which was operationalized a year later at COP 28. While proponents celebrated this as a win, many practical challenges remain, including raising sufficient funds and figuring out how to measure losses and distribute resources equitably among nations. The many intersecting consequences of environmental degradation require long-term solutions and a holistic approach. Mechanisms like the loss and damage fund will not increase climate resilience if social, political, and economic factors are not considered alongside the environmental ones. Migration and displacement of affected populations is one of the most significant consequences of climate change. Along with the downstream impacts on labor markets, social networks, and transnational relationships, these will need to be accounted for in national and international climate strategies and development policies.
As “ground zero” for a shifting climate that is turning many environments inhospitable, Bangladesh offers a case study of these overlapping vulnerabilities. In parts of the borderlands with India, longstanding social and political fragilities lie beneath the new environmental stressors. The border itself has been an historical point of contention between the two countries, and security measures in the past have led to violence. The distance from central governance institutions in Dhaka can result in border regions being underrepresented in national climate strategies, including the distribution of resources, which can further marginalize ethnic and religious minorities within border communities. The risks from climate change in such areas of existing vulnerability cannot be overstated: economic instability, food insecurity, unreliable access to justice, and increased inequalities that can trigger communal violence.
Attempts to institutionalise sustainable solutions in climate-vulnerable areas must be rooted in a situated understanding of how communities experience and respond to environmental disruptions. Outsiders may struggle to grasp these nuances, which can lead to poor planning and interventions that cause further harm. In southwestern Bangladesh, for example, seasonal and informal migration to urban centers in India have become more and more of a survival mechanism for those who have lost their agricultural livelihoods. This can clash with policies that regulate cross-border movement, including the steady increase in border fencing. Researchers and practitioners working in affected areas can play an important role in collecting information and building evidence that speaks to local experiences, but this must be done with sensitivity and recognition of the power dynamics of classical research settings. Historically, the study of vulnerable populations in particular has been steeped in inequality and defined by an essentially extractive relationship between researchers and researched.
As the world mobilises to support climate adaptation and resilience, decision-makers need analysis that reflects the needs and priorities of communities at the forefront of climate change. The Asia Foundation is working with the Centre for Peace & Justice (CPJ) of BRAC University in Bangladesh to develop a framework for assessing how existing drivers of fragility interact with the onset of climate change, in order to understand the risks for future climate resilience and development programming in the country. The Foundation’s partnership with CPJ originates in the UK-funded development research program XCEPT, Cross-Border Conflict: Evidence, Policy, and Trends, which works with local researchers to provide analysis of conflicts in border regions that is grounded in the affected communities.
With support from this program, CPJ has developed a new methodology for community-driven data collection, based on “participatory research,” that seeks to avoid the vertical power dynamics inherent in traditional research models. CPJ first employed this methodology among the Rohingya refugees seeking asylum in the Bangladeshi coastal town of Cox’s Bazar, on the border with Myanmar. A network of researchers drawn from within the refugee community itself enabled the affected population to become co-producers of knowledge and solutions, building trust between aid providers and recipients and strengthening the credibility of the research findings. The insights this yielded have helped foreign donors and humanitarian agencies operating in the world’s biggest refugee camp to work more effectively. This approach is a major contribution to localising aid, as it shifts power over information towards the affected populations.
This year, CPJ is piloting the same research approach in southwestern Bangladesh, applying it to the question of how climate adaptation strategies reflect and respond to broader social and political fragilities in the local context. A scoping study first undertaken by the team in 2022 determined that this question is a major factor in the long-term success of such strategies. Subsequently, a research project was designed replicating the approach used in Cox’s Bazar, starting with the recruitment and training of young people to work as “community researchers.”
The team faced some initial challenges: refugee camps are an entirely different operational context than areas of the general population, because of the institutional control within the camps and the relative immobility of the camp population. Furthermore, the severity of the refugee crisis in Cox’s Bazar was a powerful motivator for camp residents to participate. In southwestern Bangladesh, on the other hand, researchers wondered how to build interest among local youth in participating in the data collection and how to encourage respondents to open up about their experiences and aspirations. Researchers have also reflected that the obstacles facing Rohingya refugees in their fenced camps are immediate and tangible, while slow-onset climate factors that distress and uproot communities in climate-affected border towns are less immediately apparent.
To apply a proven methodology in a completely new context, both major and seemingly minor aspects of the research study may need to be revised. CPJ’s community-based research approach acknowledges the complexity and unique social order of the borderlands, allowing for a more comprehensive understanding of the study sites. Climate realities around the world are not equal. These locally grounded methods of exploration avoid the mistakes of knowledge systems that force top-down assumptions on local communities, and instead empower them to be the voices of their own experience.
The initial phase of this new project is nearing completion, and community researchers are receiving training for the first round of data collection. From where we stand now, there is much to discover, to learn, and to unlearn, and we hope to do it together.
Tabea Campbell Pauli is a senior program officer with The Asia Foundation’s XCEPT program, and Tasnia Khandaker Prova is a research associate with the Centre for Peace and Justice of BRAC University. They can be reached at [email protected] and [email protected], respectively. The views and opinions expressed here are those of the authors, not those of The Asia Foundation.
XCEPT researchers Renad Mansour and Zmkan Ali of Chatham House join the On Geopolitics crew to discuss their new XCEPT report on cross-border conflict. Why is Sinjar, stuck between Iraq and Syria, enmired in other ongoing conflicts? And can anything be done to improve the situation in Sinjar while those conflicts are unresolved?
Renad and Zmkan argue that according to their latest XCEPT research, unless the non-state armed groups active in Sinjar are involved in negotiations about the future of Sinjar, there can be no lasting resolution.
XCEPT Chatham House researchers Tim Eaton and Leah de Haan (Chatham House Middle East and North Africa Programme) discuss their XCEPT research on the transnational links between the movement of people and armed conflict – from Edo State in Nigeria, through Niger, to Libya.
As the devastating war in Sudan nears the one-year mark, it remains fuelled by transnational military business networks. One such sector funding the military activities in Sudan’s gold sector.
In this episode, XCEPT researcher Ahmed Soliman discusses his upcoming research on the Sudan conflict and its link to the gold sector – from how gold has evolved as a ‘conflict good,’ its connection to the current war and transnational dynamics.
Dr Suliman Baldo (Executive Director, Sudan Transparency and Policy Tracker) gives an overview of key political shifts in Sudan’s history that have facilitated links with the country’s gold sector.
Denise Sprimont-Vasquez joins the podcast to discuss the economic activities and illicit networks that are fuelling the war.
On 8 March, the UN Security Council adopted a UK-drafted resolution calling for an immediate cessation of hostilities in Sudan during the month of Ramadan, a sustainable resolution to the conflict through dialogue, compliance with international humanitarian law and unhindered humanitarian access.
Eleven months into the war, this is the first time that the Council has been able to agree on a resolution. The mandate of the UN Panel of Experts that monitors the sanctions regime in Darfur was also renewed by the Council. Does this signify hope that efforts to end the war might gather momentum? Or is Sudan likely to face a protracted conflict?
The war between the Sudan Armed Forces (SAF) led by General Abdel Fatah Al Burhan and the paramilitary Rapid Support Forces (RSF) led by General Mohamed Hamdan Dagalo (known as ‘Hemedti’) is a competition for power and resources between rival factions of the regular armed forces.
But it is also rooted in Sudan’s long history of internal conflict, marginalization of the peripheries and lack of accountability for atrocity crimes. Both the SAF’s officer corps and the RSF are creations of former President Omer al-Bashir’s regime.
Each has shown disregard for the lives of Sudanese civilians by waging war in densely populated urban areas. The scale of destruction is unprecedented in Sudan’s modern history.
The conflict has the potential to destabilize already fragile neighbouring countries, create large new migration flows to Europe, and attract extremist groups.
With the world’s attention focused on Gaza and Ukraine, the war receives woefully little high-level political, parliamentary or international media attention, raising serious questions about double standards in dealing with global crises, particularly conflicts in Africa. Sudan is suffering from a humanitarian disaster, with a looming famine and the world’s biggest displacement crisis: 8 million people are newly displaced inside or outside the country, in addition to over 3 million displaced by previous conflicts.
The head of the World Food Programme has warned that the war risks creating the world’s largest hunger crisis. Yet the UN’s Humanitarian Response Plan for Sudan is only 4 per cent funded.
The conflict has the potential to destabilize already fragile neighbouring countries, create large new migration flows to Europe, and attract extremist groups.
Meanwhile, regional actors are fighting a proxy war in the country, giving military, financial and political support to the warring parties. The involvement of Russia and Iran has given the war a geopolitical dimension linked to Putin’s war in Ukraine – partly funded with Sudanese gold – and competition for influence on the Red Sea coast.
Both RSF and SAF forces have used hunger as a weapon of war. The RSF has looted humanitarian warehouses and besieged cities. The SAF-controlled Humanitarian Aid Commission has systematically withheld authorization for crossline movement of life-saving aid to RSF-controlled areas.
Donors will also have to step up to address the spiralling food crisis, by reducing the UN funding gap and supporting grassroots first responders in the Emergency Response Rooms.
One limited outcome from recent international pressure has been the partial reversal of the SAF’s ban on cross-border humanitarian access from Chad into Darfur. The de facto SAF authorities in Port Sudan have agreed to open limited border crossings from Chad and South Sudan. However, MSF International have criticized this as a partial solution at best.
The UN will need to monitor implementation to ensure neutrality in the distribution of aid, while intensifying pressure for unhindered cross-border and crossline humanitarian access.
Donors will also have to step up to address the spiralling food crisis, by reducing the UN funding gap and supporting grassroots first responders in the Emergency Response Rooms.
There is growing pressure for a cessation of hostilities: the fact that the UN Secretary-General, the UN Security Council, the African Union, and the League of Arab States joined forces to call for a Ramadan truce, represents a significant increase in pressure on the warring parties.
Nevertheless, Ramadan has started with further fierce fighting. It is unclear how the Security Council expected a truce to take effect without prior diplomatic engagement to agree an implementation and monitoring mechanism.
Command and control is fragmented on both sides and the warring parties have failed to abide by previous temporary truces negotiated through the Saudi/US-sponsored Jeddah Platform. Concerted diplomacy at the highest level is therefore urgently needed. The aim must be to change the calculations of the generals and counter the influence of hard-line Islamists from the Bashir-era who are blocking negotiations: whether this aim is achievable within the current context remains to be seen.
Standing before members of Israel’s parliament, the Knesset, in 1977, then President of Egypt, Anwar Sadat, declared that a barrier had been built between Israel and the Arab nations: ‘This wall constitutes a psychological barrier between us, a barrier of suspicion, a barrier of rejection; a barrier of fear, of deception, a barrier of hallucination around any action, deed, or decision. A barrier of cautious and erroneous interpretations of all and every event or statement’.[i]
Traditional conflict resolution approaches largely centre on rationality, suggesting that conflicts are mainly driven by conscious intentions and that parties can negotiate a suitable outcome if they rely on logic while advancing their own interests. This approach is necessary, but it fails to adequately acknowledge the role played by unconscious motivations.
As President Sadat recognised, psychological factors can shape conflict dynamics. Logic therefore dictates that conflict resolution efforts must also take these into account. There is an ongoing academic debate advocating for a much-needed analysis of the psychological drivers of conflicts, with key figures such as Mari Fitzduff, John Paul Lederach, Herbert Kelman, and Daniel Kahneman focusing respectively on the role of instincts and emotions in driving societal conflicts; the importance of building relationships and fostering communication to address conflicts; the role of identity in intractable conflicts and the importance of humanising the ‘other’; and the role of cognitive and behavioral psychology in addressing conflicts.[ii]
Among myriad complex factors, unconscious biases can wield significant influence in a conflict, fostering categorisation, alliances, and perpetuating division. Understanding these biases is paramount for understanding the dynamics of conflicts and can provide key information for their mitigation.
What is ‘unconscious bias’?
The concept of unconscious or implicit bias has gradually taken a central space in scholarly, practical, and policy discussions around discrimination and the overall human inclination toward stereotyped behaviours.[iii] The term refers to attitudes or stereotypes that influence our judgments and decisions about people or situations without our awareness. These biases are often rooted in social and cultural factors and can potentially affect our perceptions, actions, and interactions with others.
One of the most popular tools to measure unconscious bias is Banaji and Greenwald’s Implicit Association Test (IAT) which works by asking individuals to sort words, images, or concepts into categories. For example, in a race-related IAT, the terms might be ‘African American’ and ‘European American’, while the categories might be ‘positive’ and ‘negative’. This tool measures implicit biases by assessing the speed of associations, and it is based on the premise that faster responses indicate stronger unconscious associations. It is important to note that the IAT is not without its criticisms and limitations. Critics of the test highlight concerns related to its validity, its accuracy, and its reliability.[iv] Nevertheless, it continues to be widely used as a tool to measure the prevalence of implicit bias in society.
Unraveling unconscious drivers of conflict
Research on unconscious drivers of conflict is still in its infancy, but findings from the field of psychology have shed light on possible avenues for future research. Studies have shown that humans have developed a tendency toward group bonding, which caters to needs such as security and a sense of belonging.[v] Given that bonding implies a certain degree of belonging, we have a tendency to define an in-group, and the construction of this in-group often necessitates the designation of an out-group, which can either be a friend or foe.
Boundaries delimiting the inside from the outside are themselves based on categorisations, whether it be ethnicity, gender, religion, or ideology. These differences can then be mobilised and manipulated by opposing groups in a conflict. While working as a psychiatrist with Vietnam War veterans, Jonathan Shay noted the extent to which ‘Vietnam era military training reflexively imparted the image of the demonized adversary, so inhuman as to not really care if he lives or dies’. As one of the veterans he quotes pointed out, ‘Well, he’s the enemy, ain’t he? You couldn’t kill them if you thought he was just like you’.[vi] One common characterisation of the Vietnamese enemy put forward by the military commanders was that they were ‘enemies of God’, hence morally justifying their deaths.
Evidence of this tendency to see someone else as an ‘other’ has been provided by social psychology experiments such as Muzafer Sherif’s Robbers Cave experiment. In studies like this, fostering awareness of group membership and the existence of competing goals between groups generates hostility. It seems that the existence of categories or the mere act of categorising someone is enough for a division between an ‘us’ and a ‘them’ to arise.[vii]
Discourses shaping the beliefs of certain in-groups during periods of heightened conflict or tension can bear significant responsibility for ensuing violence and the dehumanising attitudes belligerents hold toward one another. Between 1941 and 1945, for example, thousands of civilian Serbs were massacred in Croatia by Ustaše militias, people who had previously been their friends and neighbours.[viii]
The reshaping of perceptions based on group affiliation serves as a driver, intensifier, and justification for violence altogether. It deeply influences perceptions and becomes ingrained to the extent that it solidifies unconscious biases toward the designated ‘other’. In the case of Vietnam, this appeared to serve the function of personal survival and military efficiency, both at the expense of human life.
Addressing unconscious bias in conflict resolution
With an increased understanding of the drivers of conflict comes an increased understanding of how to mitigate it. There are a number of strategies, including awareness-based interventions, individuation, perspective-taking, mindfulness practices, and inter-group contact, which show promise in reducing unconscious bias.[ix] For instance, techniques of individuation, which means encouraging people to view individuals holistically beyond their group identities, can combat stereotypes effectively. When facing death penalty cases, research shows that introducing nuance and presenting the defendant’s life story and challenges can lead to greater success for defence lawyers. In these cases, ‘individuation’ helps overcome jurors’ unconscious bias and stereotypes.[x]
Similarly, perspective-taking strategies, such as being asked to write about or imagine a person’s experience of a particular situation, play a significant role in understanding the impact of biases and promoting empathy. The German mediation program R3solute has attempted to address implicit bias through exercises such as storytelling, in order to foster interpersonal dialogue in the context of heightened social tensions. R3solute notably applied this work to the refugee crisis in Germany by promoting dialogue aimed at deconstructing mutual stereotypes and bias between German citizens and refugees.[xi]
Increasing intergroup contact can, under certain conditions, also contribute to reducing bias by fostering empathy and diminishing fear. Contact theory posits that prejudice between groups can be reduced if members of the groups interact with each other. The organisation Interpeace has acknowledged the significance of this theory in mitigating prejudice and bias in recently-released guidance to help practitioners integrate Mental Health and Psychosocial Support (MHPSS) into peacebuilding efforts. The guidance underscored that identifying a shared goal, advocating for collaboration to achieve it, and reaffirming equal status, especially with the support of authoritative figures, can help dismantle stereotypes through building ‘social cohesion’.[xii]
Conflict resolution approaches that emphasise dialogue, empathy, and comprehension thus align well with strategies to tackle unconscious bias, helping to promote unity and reduce prejudice.
Unintended consequences of unconscious bias interventions
Yet, while there are increasing calls by peacebuilding actors for the use of bias reduction methods in conflict resolution efforts, there is a growing recognition that such interventions have the potential to backfire.
Research suggests that seemingly straightforward interventions, like diversity training – a type of workshop designed to increase awareness and understanding of stereotypes, biases, and their impact – can yield temporary and counterproductive outcomes.[xiii] Such training might reinforce stereotypes by inadvertently validating them. Conversely, interventions focusing on fostering understanding between groups through perspective-taking exercises tend to yield better results than stereotype-centric approaches.
There are also concerns surrounding contact theory, with evidence suggesting that poorly managed intergroup interactions could amplify bias, leading to increased prejudice, anxiety, and avoidance.[xiv] In everyday life, negative intergroup contact may outweigh the benefits of positive contact, a phenomenon known as the ‘contact caveat’.[xv] This phenomenon suggests that the negative impact of such contact on intergroup attitudes is stronger because negative contact increases the salience of group categories, causing individuals to see others as representatives of groups rather than unique individuals. These findings emphasise the need for a more nuanced approach to facilitating these interactions.[xvi]
Research has also found that the efficacy of bias reduction interventions can be influenced by factors such as their scale (individual or systemic intervention) and duration (long-term or short-term). Findings point towards favoring more comprehensive, systemic approaches to bias reduction rather than those targeting individuals. While brief interventions can be effective in the short term, sustained schedules predict greater long-term success. Despite the potential for adverse effects, the current criticisms of implicit bias interventions point researchers and practitioners towards a new direction. As stated by Helen Winter and David Hoffman, ‘the next frontier – measuring the impact of long-term, multi-faceted interventions in the field – has barely begun’.[xvii]
The way forward
It is natural to question why time is being dedicated to exploring an intangible, complex concept that yields conflicting results. Why not prioritise the study of conflict drivers that we can directly observe, identify, and quantify? Proponents argue that, while there is a need for further exploration, our evolving understanding of unconscious bias and its influence offers practitioners and researchers valuable data that can contribute to positive change. Knowledge of unconscious bias can raise awareness among mediators and conflicting parties regarding their own implicit biases, and it may enable practitioners to better address the intricate, unseen, and often unspoken, dynamics at play in intergroup conflicts.
It is also important that interventions targeting unconscious bias are viewed as part of a comprehensive strategy. This strategy should address both individual biases and systemic societal factors, such as discriminatory attitudes and popular and political discourses that foster division. By combining unconscious bias interventions with complementary approaches, we can work towards conflict resolution processes that lead to more sustainable, equitable, and effective outcomes.
On a final note, in her book ‘Our Brains at War’,Mari Fitzduffreminds us that, while our ancestors’ tendencies to form groups that compete with one another can prevail in our intergroup relationships, we, as ever-evolving human beings, have proven our ability to move beyond our own tribes to interact with others in an increasingly interconnected world. In his work on ‘moral imagination’, John Paul Lederach also emphasises that peacebuilding is an artistic endeavor that demands creativity, continuous innovation, and a deep understanding of the essence of conflict. Though unconscious biases tend to be perceived negatively, it is important to recognise them as features, not flaws, of our human brains in order to understand, and mitigate, their impact on conflict dynamics.[xviii]
Emma Ciccarella is a freelance conflict researcher and junior consultant at TrustWorks Global. She has experience in conflict analysis, mediation, and psychology, through her work on West Africa and the Middle East in organizations such as the International Crisis Group and Promediation. She holds an MSc from the Psychological and Behavioural Sciences department of the London School of Economics.
This blog was originally published by the International Centre for the Study of Radicalisation: read it here.
[i] Dan Jones. (2016). Untying the hardest knots. Accessed at: https://www.bps.org.uk/psychologist/untying-hardest-knots
[ii] Mari Fitzduff. (2021). Our Brains at War – The Neuroscience of Conflict and Peacebuilding. Oxford University Press; John Paul Lederach. (2010). The Moral Imagination: The Art and Soul of Building Peace. Oxford University Press; H.C. Kelman (2007). Social-psychological dimensions of international conflict. In Zartman, I. W. Peacemaking in international conflict: methods & techniques. United States Institute of Peace Press; Daniel Kahneman. (2012), Thinking, Fast and Slow. Penguin.
[iii] https://implicit.harvard.edu/implicit/education.html
[iv] Jesse Singal. (2017). Psychology’s Favorite Tool for Measuring Racism Isn’t Up to the Job. The Cut
[v] Mari Fitzduff. (2021). Our Brains at War – The Neuroscience of Conflict and Peacebuilding. Oxford University Press.
[vi] Jonathan Shay. (1995). Achilles in Vietnam: Combat Trauma and the Undoing of Character. Scribner.
[vii] Henri Tajfel. (1978). Differentiation between social groups: Studies in the social psychology of intergroup relations. Academic Press.
[viii] Mari Fitzduff. (2021). Our Brains at War – The Neuroscience of Conflict and Peacebuilding. Oxford University Press.
[ix] Helen Winter & David Hoffman. (2022). Follow the Science: Proven Strategies for Reducing Unconscious Bias. Harvard Negotiation Law Review, 28(1).
[x] D. O’Brien & Kathleen Wayland. (2015). Implicit Bias and Capital Decision-Making: Using Narrative to Counter Prejudicial Psychiatric Labels. 43 HOFSTRA L. Rev. 751, 772–80.
[xi] https://r3solute.com/r3solute-programmes/
[xii] Interpeace. (2023). Mind the Peace: Integrating MHPSS, Peacebuilding and Livelihood Programming: A guidance framework for practitioners, February.
[xiii] C. Chavez & J.Y. Weisinger. (2008). Beyond diversity training: a social infusion for cultural inclusion. Human Resource Management. Vol. 47 No. 2, pp. 331–350.
[xiv] Shelley McKeown & John Dixon. (2017). The “Contact Hypothesis”: Critical Re- flections and Future Directions, Soc. & Personality Psych. Compass. Vol. 11.
[xv] Barlow, F. K., Paolini, S., Pedersen, A., Hornsey, M. J., Radke, H. R. M., Harwood, J., … Sibley, C. G. (2012). The contact caveat: Negative contact predicts increased prejudice more than positive contact predicts reduced prejudice. Personality and Social Psychology Bulletin.
[xvi] Paolini, S., Harwood, J., & Rubin, M. (2010). Negative intergroup contact makes group memberships salient: Explaining why intergroup conflict endures. Personality and Social Psychology Bulletin.
[xvii] Helen Winter & David Hoffman. (2022). Follow the Science: Proven Strategies for Reducing Unconscious Bias. Harvard Negotiation Law Review, 28(1).
[xviii] Dan Sperber & Hugo Mercier. (2017). The Enigma of Reason. Harvard University Press. Daniel Kahneman. (2011). Thinking, Fast and Slow. Farrar, Straus and Giroux.
Six and a half years ago, the self-proclaimed Islamic State (IS), also known as Daesh, was driven out of Mosul. Under the terrorist group’s control, the city and its identity was attacked. In pursuit of their extreme version of Salafism and the creation of a caliphate, IS killed friends, families, neighbours, and broke up communities. The group committed urbicide, destroying important cultural heritage sites in an attempt to extinguish the cosmopolitan spirit of the city. Thousands were forced to flee their homes during the three years of this violent regime.
IS aimed to erase the Mosul that so many knew, loved, and identified with, but if you were to visit the city now, you would see that it’s beginning to recover. Spearheaded by both local and international initiatives, rebuilding efforts are underway. And, while they work hard on clearing the rubble and restoring the built environment, Mosul’s citizens are dealing with the psychological and emotional scars of the conflict. Because post-conflict reconstruction is not just a case of laying bricks. It’s about laying the ground for reconciliation.
Al-Nabi Jarjis Shrine and Mosque. Credit: Craig Larkin
Old souks in Mosul. Credit: Craig Larkin
I travelled to Iraq in May 2023 with my colleagues on the XCEPT research programme, Dr Craig Larkin and Dr Rajan Basra, to see how communities in and around Mosul, and the wider province of Nineveh are trying to move forward after the conflict.
The purpose of our trip was to learn more about the work being done as part of the reconstruction process, and to better understand the hurdles that stand in the way of post-conflict recovery.
Dr Inna Rudolf, photographer Ali al-Baroodi, and Dr Craig Larkin by a statue celebrating the role of locals in rebuilding Mosul after its liberation. Credit: Inna Rudolf
Our research began in Baghdad, where we met with officials from the Iraqi Ministry of Foreign Affairs and the Ministry of Culture. We had noted a considerable increase in the Iraqi government’s dedication to expediting the reconstruction and stabilisation process in Nineveh, and we were keen to understand the ministers’ perspectives on the role of culture in facilitating recovery.
Dr Inna Rudolf and Dr Craig Larkin at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. Credit: Inna Rudolf
Although there was widespread acknowledgment among government officials of the importance of culture, we discovered that there was still a lack of coordination in developing an approach that integrated culture and heritage promotion with measures that tangibly improved people’s living conditions.
We left Baghdad with assurances from decision-makers that they would continue to accelerate reconstruction efforts. Keen to assess if local communities were genuinely regaining trust in the government’s commitment to improve their livelihoods, we made our way to the city of Erbil.
From Erbil, we embarked on trips to the cities and towns of Mosul, Bartella, Sinjar, Lalish, and Sheikhan. Despite being well-acquainted with the latest updates on Mosul’s reconstruction process, witnessing the city in person still profoundly affected me. Under IS, 47 architectural sites had been deliberately demolished, and following the group’s rule and the battle for Mosul’s liberation in 2017, 80 percent of the Old City had been destroyed.[i] The sheer extent of destruction and the countless damaged buildings reduced to rubble were stark reminders of the immense challenges still facing the city’s residents.
A destroyed building in Mosul. Credit: Rajan Basra
While in Mosul, we had the pleasure of being taken on a guided tour of the city’s cultural landmarks by my friend and famous Moslawi photographer, Ali Baroodi. He not only showed us the emblematic Al-Nouri Mosque, but he also took us around Al-Tahira Church, Al-Saat Church, and revealed some hidden jewels of the enchanting old Bazaar.
While enjoying a cup of traditional Moslawi coffee at one of the city’s ancient breweries, Ali told us about the historic importance of the old storage houses, where Moslawis used to store wheat and provisions for darker days. Having experienced notables or pashas – a form of notable – taking away the crops they had harvested, the city’s residents had learned the hard way to always have something hidden away for bad times. Ironically, as Ali playfully remarked, these anecdotes, when divorced from their historical context, have contributed to the misleading stereotype of Moslawis as being frugal. Delving into the true background of their unique self-preservation instincts, and unwavering determination to assert their rights and survival throughout history, was truly captivating.
The interior of Al-Tahira church. Credit: Rajan Basra
The old Bazaar. Credit: Inna Rudolf.
Al-Nouri Mosque. Credit: Inna Rudolf
We also visited the University of Mosul’s Central Library. In the collective consciousness of Moslawis, the library remains one of the most important cultural institutions in Iraq, with a collection of over one million books and historic manuscripts. Despite the extensive damage inflicted by IS, UNESCO, working in partnership with the Iraqi Ministry of Culture and local communities, was able to restore the library to its former glory, which included salvaging many damaged books and manuscripts. Although the design of the reconstructed building focused on preserving its architectural heritage, modern features and technologies were also included to meet community needs.
Some signs of damage on the walls of Mosul’s library have been purposefully left intact. As the Iraqi historian Omar Mohammed argued, these scars were left both to remind people of what had happened, and to help them move on with their lives: ‘We need to use this tool to help the people heal the trauma they have been living, to help them ease the shock they have gone through and the very troubling experience of Daesh.’
Alongside the reconstruction of the built environment, my colleagues and I were interested in tracing the recovery of the city’s unique spirit. We’d chosen to focus our peacebuilding and recovery research on Nineveh because of its vibrant social fabric, and because of the symbolic significance Mosul has historically embodied as a beacon of cosmopolitanism.
I’ve frequently travelled to different parts of Iraq over the last seven years to carry out fieldwork, but this was the first time I was able to interview local practitioners and community leaders on the ground, who are working hard at the grassroots level to help the city move forward.
We had the privilege of meeting the remarkable team at Volunteer With Us, an organisation that epitomises the power of collective action in rebuilding the city and transforming the lives of its residents. In the aftermath of the conflict, their campaigns rallied people together, united in their mission to clear neighbourhoods of debris and wreckage. Over time, the organisation has shifted its focus to work closely with schools, raising awareness about vital environmental policies, nature preservation, and the promotion of culture.
Ahmed Mohammed, founder of Volunteer with Us, Dr Rajan Basra, Dr Craig Larkin, Ayoub Thanoon from Mosul Heritage House, and Dr Inna Rudolf at the Volunteer with Us headquarters. Credit: Inna Rudolf
Their headquarters, nestled within the grounds of a lovingly reconstructed historic house proudly bear a banner that reads ‘Volunteer with Us!’ The building serves as a testament to their commitment to preserving the past while invigorating the present, creating a space that beckons locals and visitors alike.
Volunteer with Us. Credit: Inna Rudolf
This harmonious fusion amplifies the power of heritage, fostering a sense of collective engagement and inviting diverse individuals to contribute their time and skills. In an interview with us, the founder, Omar Mohammed, connected his vision for the initiative to the Moslawis’ responsibility to live up to the heroism of their legendary ancestors:
Our history can be traced back to numerous civilisations, kings and empires such as the Ancient Assyrian Empire, Sumerian civilisation, and Hammurabi who was the king of the old Babylonian Empire. Our achievements paused during the recent years. Today, Iraqis want to realise numerous achievements and victories. We, as youth, want to leave a positive mark on our contemporary history. Through our work we hope to send a message of peace and strength. It is crucial for Iraqis to recognise their impressive past and history, which will motivate them to continue this legacy and strive to help our country.’
Witnessing the volunteers’ unwavering dedication underscored the invaluable role of grassroots efforts in fostering positive change and renewal within the city. It’s important to make sure that such initiatives have access to funding resources comparable to those available to larger and more prominent organisations. Championing these lesser known, but impactful, ventures will help foster a diverse and inclusive landscape of support, propelling positive change and transformation throughout society.
Volunteer with Us logo. Credit: Rajan Basra.
At Mosul Heritage House, my colleagues and I were shown around by Ayoub Thanoon, the founder of the Mosul Heritage project. This old house, which was partially destroyed during the conflict with IS, was restored with particular attention given to preserving aspects of the house’s traditional Moslawi architecture. The house is now rented by the Mosul Heritage project, who have turned it into a museum, and who use it as a base for cultural events, forums, and seminars, which draw visitors from across Iraq.
During our visit, Ayoub showed us around the different sections of the house. The first section includes several rooms with interiors replicating conventional Moslawi living spaces such as a traditional saloon, in which the household members would gather for coffee or receive guests.
Mosul Heritage House. Credit: Inna Rudolf
The second section is dedicated to the community centre which aims to inform visitors about UNESCO’s ‘Revive the Spirit of Mosul’ project.’ The third section hosts an impressive heritage museum with lovingly collected artefacts from different epochs of the city’s history, such as old sewing machines, record players, and newspapers and banknotes dating back to Iraq’s short-lived monarchy period.
Mosul Heritage House. Credit: Inna Rudolf
Ayoub hopes that, as well as rescuing and preserving Mosul’s identity, the museum will educate Moslawi youth about the history of their city. The organisation has now expanded its activities across the Nineveh governate, organising study trips and excursions which connect different communities and contribute to the development of a shared pride in the governorate’s heritage.
Ayoub Thanoon and Inna Rudolf at Mosul Heritage House. Credit: Inna Rudolf
The holistic approach adopted by Mosul Heritage Organisation serves as a model of people-centred heritage promotion and preservation initiative that has a real capacity to improve locals’ livelihood prospects, through its success in attracting tourists, while contributing to the emotional recovery and social reconciliation of conflict-affected communities across the province.
A similarly impactful, community-driven initiative was launched in 2019 by the talented journalist and cultural entrepreneur Saker al-Zakariya. Founding the Baytna (Our Home) Institution for Culture, Heritage and Arts, Saker sought to showcase the healing power of Mosul’s rich cosmopolitan legacy. Designed by Saker as a ‘place that deals with the Moslawi identity’, Baytna’s headquarters can be found in a 100-year-old traditional house, painstakingly restored with meticulous care and dedication, in the heart of Mosul’s Old City.
Intended to help rekindle the pride of Mosul’s residents in the unique heritage of their city, the walls of the museum house are decorated with portraits of famous local artists, writers, public figures, and even internationally renowned celebrities, such as star architect Zaha Hadid, who have left a mark in the collective consciousness of Iraqis.
Portraits of public figures adorn the wall of Baytna. Credit: Inna Rudolf
Displaying the generous donations from some of the city’s residents, an artfully curated collection of vintage items is delicately arranged on shelves crafted from aged driftwood, offering visitors a glimpse into the daily life of a bygone era, stretching back a century prior to the recent conflicts. Visitors are also invited to immerse themselves in Mosul’s Ottoman and monarchical past by adorning themselves in traditional costumes and wool fez hats.
Completing the time travel experience, on the rooftop, dressed in traditional attire, members of the Baytna team serve visitors authentic beverages and refreshments, while sharing entertaining stories about various stages of the heritage house project. It comes as no surprise that Baytna is a preferred spot for an array of cultural events such as public readings, concerts, and art exhibitions.
While Baytna can be read as a heartfelt declaration of the founder’s love for his city, this passion stems from his personal journey of coming to terms with Mosul’s violent history:
‘Since 2005, the city of Mosul meant nothing to me. I hated, loathed, detested it. I lost so many friends in the city. I tried to stay away from it. The night of its downfall in 2014, I cried hysterically until the morning because I felt for the first time I belong to the city, but at the same time I had lost the city. When Mosul fell, I started to feel a sense of belonging to Mosul. I began to identify myself as a Moslawi.’
Realising what was at stake upon witnessing the destruction of the city’s cultural heritage, Saker embarked on the mission of restoring his own nostalgic version of Mosul as the city which he remembers from the time before 2005, when armed Islamist groups such as al-Qaeda had started to undo the unique diversity of its social fabric:
’This foundation is mainly engaged in preserving and maintaining our heritage, our identity in Mosul … This foundation became an emblem to revive the city of Mosul. The French President demanded to visit us at the foundation during his trip to Mosul. More than 400 tourists came to visit us last year, ambassadors, the Iraqi prime minister – they all came to visit us.’
Saker takes immense pride in resurrecting fragments of the city’s glorious legacy and helping dispel the stigma haunting its residents. Oftentimes, their victimhood and identity are misunderstood by their fellow citizens.
For instance, Mosul has been known as the ‘city of a million officers’ due to the significant representation of Moslawis in the army during Saddam Hussein’s regime.[i] Unfortunately, this has led to unfair prejudices, with Moslawis being unjustly labelled as supporters of the Baath party – the party which brought Hussein to power and allowed him to rule as a dictator in Iraq for over three decades. Such sweeping generalisations fail to recognize the historical context: the military career ingrained in the identity of Moslawi communities dates back to Ottoman times when the city hosted essential military barracks, and this history of military service has continued throughout the centuries, regardless of which regime held power.
Saker’s efforts not only preserve the city’s history but also challenge misconceptions, allowing for a more nuanced understanding of Mosul’s past and its people. By shedding light on the rich heritage and traditions of Moslawis, Saker aims to bridge the gap of misunderstanding, fostering greater unity and appreciation among different communities.
Baytna. Credit: Inna Rudolf
In a sense, both Ayoub’s and Saker’s personal fascination with the city’s cultural heritage, and their commitment to restoring Mosul to its former glory, represents their longing for a more distant past, uncontaminated by sectarian identities. This is not escapism, but rather a desire to give hope to Mosul’s traumatised youth, to help them restore their pride in the city, and to help them move beyond the divides that IS tried to sow. Because there are still rifts that need healing. It may have been six years since Mosul was controlled by IS, but there are still an estimated 100,000 Moslawis who have chosen not to return home, or who have been unable to.
During our time in Iraq, we also looked more broadly at the role of different ethnic and religious minorities. In Sinjar, we visited the House of Co-existence in Sununi, headed by the famous human rights activist Mirza Dinnayi.
House of Co-existence. Credit: Inna Rudolf
We also had the opportunity to visit the Yazidi temple in Lalish and partake in a cultural festival in Sheikhan. The Yazidi people are an ethno-religious minority group who were largely based in the Sinjar region in northern Iraq, and who suffered severe atrocities at the hands of IS. On 3 August 2014, IS invaded the Yazidi heartland and, in the space of two weeks, killed over 5,000 men, enslaved thousands of women and children, and caused the displacement of hundreds of thousands. Today, thousands of Yazidis are still missing, and an estimated 200,000 remain displaced.[i] Engaging with the elders during these encounters, we gained insight into the numerous challenges they confront due to their religious beliefs, hindering them from fully experiencing a sense of equal citizenship in Iraq. For example, we learned about instances where representatives of other religious communities would decline Yazidi-prepared food, as they deemed it ‘impure’. These experiences emphasised the importance of addressing religious tolerance and promoting inclusive coexistence to foster a harmonious society.
The town of Sheikhan. Credit: Imad Qusay Abbas
We gathered valuable insights into the tensions prevalent in Nineveh, particularly concerning the Turkmen from Tal Afar, specifically Sunni Turkmen, who bear the burden of being stigmatised for their perceived support of IS. Historical accusations against Turkmen from the outskirts of Mosul, particularly those from Tal Afar, have also labelled them as overly eager to climb the social ladder and align themselves with unjust causes and regimes to enhance their social mobility.
These perceptions can be traced back to the purported / reported conduct of some Sunni Turkmen during the Baath party regime under Saddam Hussein. Consequently, some local Sunni Arabs in Mosul tend to hold Turkmen responsible for the stigma associated with Moslawis as supposed IS supporters or Baathists.
Dr Inna Rudolf at the Yazidi temple in Lalish. Credit: Imad Qusay Abbas.
In Nineveh, due to the involvement of certain Sunni Arabs with IS, there are individuals who tend to generalise Sunni Arab Moslawis as a community that condoned or tolerated the extremist group. The Sunni Arab Moslawis, however, strongly reject this assertion. The complexity of these dynamics emphasises the need to address historical grievances and correct misperceptions in order to foster mutual understanding and reconciliation within the diverse communities of Nineveh. Hence, the renowned initiative Mosul Eye, founded by the prominent historian Omar Mohammed, has undertaken a noteworthy endeavour, collecting oral histories and testimonies from different communities throughout the Nineveh region. These accounts serve to both preserve collective memories of the past and illuminate aspirations for the future.
The initiatives we saw in Mosul go far beyond the obvious contribution to restoring the city’s built heritage. They have an undeniable impact on locals’ emotional and psychological healing. These initiatives should not be evaluated primarily against the background of the ‘authenticity’ of the rebuilt structure, but should instead be measured by their ability to influence local communities’ feelings of pride and belonging to their built and social environment.
Ali al-Baroodi, Dr Inna Rudolf, and Dr Craig Larkin in Mosul. Credit: Rajan Basra.
For Mosul, for Nineveh, and for Iraq to move forward, trust in the state needs to be restored. To achieve effective post-conflict stabilisation, it is crucial for the Iraqi government to be perceived as the driving force behind both economic and cultural recovery. This entails the international community occasionally taking a back seat and refraining from seeking credit and visibility for its substantial contributions. By empowering and urging the Iraqi government to provide adequate support to the burgeoning civil society scene, the international community can better facilitate the nation’s journey towards sustainable progress and self-determination.
The international community can also do better in supporting the efforts of local actors, those working hard on the ground to rebuild their own communities.
Reconstruction in the Old City of Mosul. Credit: Rajan Basra.
Furthermore, the Iraqi state faces the critical task of addressing the fate of internally displaced people. For those who wish to return to their homes, the government must establish sustainable measures to ensure their safe and supported reintegration. At the same time, as some individuals are in the process of establishing new lives in different locations, it is vital for both the Iraqi government and international organisations to actively cultivate a sense of belonging to the state. Measures should be taken to facilitate meaningful connections between these ’newcomers’ and other communities affected by the conflict. Collaborative efforts in these domains are crucial to lay the foundation for a more cohesive and harmonious society.
One thing my colleagues and I left Mosul with was a great sense of responsibility towards all the people that opened their homes and their hearts to us, and who shared with us their dreams, fears, and their experiences.
It is important to make sure that their stories, and their perceptions of conflict and post-conflict realities, are heard and reported accurately so that decision makers and donor organisations can understand the challenges different communities face and what they can do to better support them.
Mosul may bear a history of conflict, but it also boasts a legacy of coexistence and a remarkable resilience, akin to the mythical phoenix rising from the ashes. It is precisely this enduring spirit that local champions are striving to revive and reclaim.
Statue celebrating the role of locals in rebuilding Mosul after its liberation. Credit: Inna Rudolf
This XCEPT blog was originally published by King’s College London on the International Centre for the Study of Radicalisation website.
You can read more about the findings from this XCEPT research in the recently-published journal article, Iraqi heritage restoration, grassroots interventions and post-conflict recovery: reflections from Mosul.
[i] https://www.newarab.com/news/iraq-announces-return-487-yazidis-sinjar
[i] Interviews with Iraqi practitioners, 2022
[i] Monuments of Mosul in Danger project. Accessed at: http://www.monumentsofmosul.com/index_htm_files/Monuments%20of%20Mosul%20in%20Danger.pdf
