Steve Lonergan and Jassim Al-Asadi, in collaboration with Keith Holmes, The Ghosts of Iraq’s Marshes: Conflict, Tragedy, and Restoration (American University in Cairo Press, 2024).
Jadaliyya (J): What made you write this book?
Steve Lonergan (SL): From 2004 to 2010, the Canadian government helped support international efforts to restore the marshes of southern Iraq. This unique ecosystem—once among the largest wetlands in the world and home to between 500,000 and 750,000 people—was drained by the Iraqi government in the early 1990s. After the fall of the regime in 2003, former residents took the initiative and began destroying dikes, and water again flowed into the marshes. Working closely with Iraqis, I led a project from 2006 to 2010 addressing the long-term sustainability of the marshes, particularly concerning issues of water management and governance. One of the participants at the initial meeting of the project was Jassim Al-Asadi, an irrigation engineer who grew up in the Marshes and was working for the Iraqi Ministry of Water Resources. Ten years after the project ended, I was interested in knowing whether conditions in the marshes had improved, particularly given the growing number of upstream dams and the increasing frequency of drought. Through mutual friends, Jassim and I reconnected and decided to write a book that included not only an analysis of the creation and destruction cycles of the Marshes but related personal stories of hardship and survival from former marsh dwellers as well. Keith Holmes, who was responsible for compiling an atlas of the marshes as part of the original Canadian project, was brought in as a collaborating author.
J: What particular topics, issues, and literatures does the book address?
SL: Although it is broadly classified as environmental science, Ghosts uses Jassim’s personal story of struggle and survival, along with local myths and accounts of the strategic value of water, to frame the broader history and geography of the Iraqi Marshes. The book freely uses biographical narration and personal reflection to draw the reader into an account of one of the greatest environmental and humanitarian disasters of the twentieth century.
Jassim Al-Asadi (JA): I would like to add that the book also reviews the stories and suffering of women and men whose lives cannot be separated from water and Marshes. They are part of the wetland environment and the unique pattern of the nature of habitation, life, and the stubborn struggle for survival.
J: How does this book connect to and/or depart from your previous work?
SL: The focus of my research for the past thirty-five years has been on water and conflict in the Middle East, the role of environmental change in affecting water availability, and the strategic value of water. Initially, I worked on the Jordan River Basin, and wrote Watershed: The Role of Freshwater in the Israeli/Palestinian Conflict (IDRC Books, 1994, w/D. Brooks). From 2003 to 2005, I directed the Division of Early Warning and Assessment at the UN Environment Programme in Nairobi, where we addressed conflicts over water in many regions of the world. Focusing on the Iraqi Marshes was an extension of both my research and my UN work. After retiring from the University of Victoria, I began thinking about ways to integrate narration into academic writing, as a means of making scientific issues more accessible to a broader audience.
JA: Growing up in the Marshes, I have a personal attachment to the region and still have a home in Chibayish. After graduating from university, I worked on water and irrigation projects in southern Iraq, first for the governorate of Thi Qar and later for the federal government. In 2011, I left my government position to work at Nature Iraq, the largest environmental NGO in Iraq. Preservation of the Iraqi Marshes has always been a priority for me, so in this sense, the book is directly connected to both my personal and professional interests.
J: What other projects are you working on now?
JA: I am now working in cooperation with the Ministry of Water Resources, monitoring the re-flooding of the Marshes and measuring the levels of the Euphrates at the city of Chibayish. I am also working with an international team on the second phase of a wastewater treatment project. We are using this in a pilot project for an environmental park. In addition, I communicate daily with buffalo breeders and fishermen within the marshlands, and I give lectures and participate in conferences related to water, climate change, and promoting peace.
SL: I would like to add to my friend’s response. Jassim continues to work tirelessly for the preservation of the Marshes. His work has helped bring international attention to the region, and he is recognized as a leading authority on both the Marshes and the people living there. These activities, however, are undertaken at great personal risk. In February 2023, after our manuscript had been accepted for publication, Jassim was kidnapped and held for sixteen days. His ordeal, which is summarized in the Afterword to the book, brought international condemnation and forced the Iraqi government to intervene to ensure his release. Despite the experience, he refuses to leave Iraq. “Jassim isn’t Jassim without the Marshes,” he told me. For my part, I will continue to support his efforts by promoting this book. In addition, I have two other book projects to keep me busy.
J: Who do you hope will read this book, and what sort of impact would you like it to have?
SL & JA: The history of the Marshes and the people who lived there is a wonderful, if sometimes tragic story. By embedding rigorous research on history, geography, and mythology into the context of personal stories, we hope Ghosts will appeal to a general audience as well as an academic one. Although it focuses on a unique environment and culture in the Middle East, the personal stories are universal. The book also offers a broader message of resilience and restoration in the face of tremendous hardship and tragedy. In terms of impacts, we hope Ghosts not only upholds the memory of the Marshes and the people who lived there but also increases the likelihood this unique ecosystem will be preserved.
Keith Holmes (KH): Jassim’s narrative sheds light on the immense challenges and bravery required to pursue environmentalism in a nation plagued by conflict and economic hardship. His story underscores the resilience and determination needed to advocate for environmental preservation and highlights the importance of individual efforts in protecting the natural world.
J: What is the future of the Marshes?
SL & JA: In the book we write about tantals, the mythical creatures that God sent down from the heavens to guard the ancient cities of the Marshes and their treasures. As a young boy, Jassim’s mother told him to be wary of tantals when he went out at night. Many locals believe, however, that tantals not only guard the ancient cities but in a broader sense protect the Marshes as well. This belief helps Marsh dwellers accept that even through floods, drought, fires, and the malicious actions of human beings the Marshes will survive. If the Marshes dry out, we believe that Iraq—and the entire region—will lose an ecosystem that is ecologically and culturally unique but also economically and socially valuable. On the other hand, if this happens it seems doubtful that the tantals will leave quietly. They may haunt the region forever.
There is some reason for optimism, however. The Marshes are now a UNESCO World Heritage Site and wetlands of international importance under the RAMSAR Convention. There is also a Mesopotamian Marshlands National Park. International support for the preservation of the Marshes is growing. Unfortunately, the wetlands remain a low priority for the federal government relative to oil production and agricultural development. It may take more than international conventions to preserve the Marshes. To some degree, we must all believe in the power of tantals to protect the Marshes in the future.
Excerpt from the book (from Chapter 4: Revolution, Reprisal, and the Assault on the Marshes, pp. 106-110)
The UN sanctions imposed on Iraq in 1991 after their invasion of Kuwait quickly took their toll on the Iraqi population. Inflation was rampant. One dinar could buy over three U.S. dollars in 1990. Five years later, it took over twenty-five hundred dinars to buy a single dollar. Prior to 1991, oil revenues allowed Iraqis to import much of their food. Now they were faced with minimal oil revenues and little food production capacity. Food rationing began in 1991. Families had limited access to staples such as sugar, rice, cooking oil, legumes, and flour. Disease and malnutrition increased throughout the country, with the urban poor being the most affected.
Jassim and his family were not immune from the impacts of the sanctions. There was strict food rationing, no internet, no possibility of travelling abroad for professional meetings or personal enjoyment, and restricted communications with anyone outside the country. At a time of high inflation, salaries of government employees were slashed. Thus, most found it necessary to find ways to supplement their income to feed their families—Jassim among them. From 1995 to 2003, he used his brother’s 1980 Nissan to shuttle people around Baghdad after work. If he saw someone standing by the side of the road looking as if they needed a ride, he would stop and offer his services. If people were surprised to be driven around by an irrigation engineer, they didn’t show it. Most needed a second or third job simply to pay for food and shelter.
The limited communication with those outside the country worked both ways. It was almost impossible for people from other countries to visit Iraq and describe the hardships endured by Iraqi citizens or the ongoing destruction of the natural environment. There were warning signs raised by UN relief agencies and a few non-governmental organizations, and at least one outside journalist braved the danger and sneaked into the country to report on the devastation, but few were listening. UN Human Rights organizations tried to sound the alarm about the massive relocations and an increase in refugees from the south flowing into Iran, but no group or individual was able to document the tragedy well enough to convince the international community that action was warranted. The Iraqi government’s use of chemical weapons during the Iran/Iraq War and their alleged pursuit of nuclear weapons dominated the international discussion.
People living in the Marshes were on their own. They had already suffered from the brutal suppression exercised by the government in quashing the Shi’a revolution and now they faced Saddam’s imposition of an economic embargo against the south. And while fishing, hunting, and tending buffalo provided sustenance for those living in, or near, the Marshes, this situation was about to change.
In 1994, Jassim transferred from the Dhi Qar provincial government to the Iraqi Ministry of Irrigation in Baghdad. Not long after arriving at his new post, a document came across his desk from the Minister broadly outlining a plan for future agricultural development in southern Iraq. It looked vaguely familiar to an old British report that assessed irrigation options for the region in the 1950s. Jassim looked through his files and dug up the original 1951 Haigh report on controlling the rivers of Iraq. As soon as he read through the report, he realized the government’s intentions: agricultural development of southern Iraq meant little more than draining the Marshes. Jassim knew what the impact might be but was powerless to do anything about it.
The plan was eminently and catastrophically successful.
*****
Saddam’s rage over the Shi’a in southern Iraq was not the only driving force behind his decision to drain the Marshes. Agricultural output in Iraq declined in the 1970s and 1980s, partly due to the war and partly due to the growth in oil revenues. The relative wealth of the state during that time allowed Iraq to import most of their food. Small landholdings were not economically viable, and the sector was controlled by wealthy landowners whom Saddam wanted to keep as allies. By the end of the war, the demand for locally produced food rose dramatically as oil revenues fell, and the large estate owners pressured Saddam to convert the Marshes to agriculture production. In turn, he used this to mollify the wealthy landowners, some of whom were part of his military elite. It was a win-win situation for the Ba’ath Party. More food production and increased opportunity to provide inducements for support and allegiance.
There was also a concomitant need to expand oil production. Oil had always been a vital component of the Ba’athists modernization program, and there were major fields in the Marshes—particularly in southern Hawizeh, eastern Hammar Marsh, and along the Euphrates, in western Qurnah. Draining the Marshes made drilling much easier, and oil companies were clamoring to build more wells and increase output.
A third issue related to the upstream withdrawal of water is that the government regarded it a waste to allow water to flow into the Marshes. Whether it was for hydro-electric production, drinking water, irrigation, waste management, or otherwise, water was an essential resource in the region, but for some, having it flow into the Marshes represented an economic loss to the country—better to use it upstream for what was perceived to be more productive uses.
Finally, internal and external security threats made it essential for the government to have a modernized transportation system to move troops and heavy machinery if needed. Certain areas of the wetlands were an impediment to the rapid deployment of forces, and draining the Marshes would enhance security.
Admittedly, these reasons were a side-show to Saddam’s desire to exact revenge from deserters and rebellious elements who hid in the Marshes, to eliminate the livelihoods of Shi’a living in or near the Marshes, and to punish those who stood in the way of both modernization policies and Arab nationalism. Indeed, that Saddam had a grand scheme to drain the Marshes and kill or remove everyone—if not every living thing—is not mere hearsay. Documents show that a plan to rid the Marshes of undesirable elements was discussed and adopted by the Revolutionary Council as early as 1987. This included moving marsh villages to dry land and setting up an economic blockade of the Marshes that would include banning the sale of fish—a mainstay of the local economy. Saddam’s initial solution to these problems was to bomb the area into submission, but with a no-fly zone in effect, draining the Marshes and displacing the people seemed like a reasonable alternative—one that would likely not raise the ire of the international community, or at least not in the short term.
Implementing the Haigh plan was an enormous project and required coordination across a range of ministries. A military industrial council was created with the express purpose of removing water from the Marshes, thereby ensuring the forced displacement of the half million people whose lives depended on the Marshes. Saddam selected his cousin and son-in-law, Hussain Kamel, to lead the council. Kamel was a trusted aide who had created the much-feared Republican Guard during the Iran-Iraq War and organized an elite security unit around the president.
The council was comprised of ministers from agriculture, irrigation, oil, defense, and interior. A key position was the minister of interior, who was also in charge of national security. This position was held by Saddam’s cousin (and Hussain Kamel’s uncle), Ali Hassan al-Majid, better known to the west as “Chemical Ali.” He was personally responsible for suppressing the Kurdish rebellion in the north in 1990, killing more than 100,000 Kurds in the process with poisonous gas or by execution. The council had every intention of repeating this process with the Shi’a of the south, albeit via more surreptitious means.
Constructing canals and embankments to divert water in southern Iraq began in early 1992. It was a relatively easy task, given that controlling water had been commonplace for over four thousand years. Coordination from the various ministries expedited the engineering project and it was only a matter of months before water in the Marshes began disappearing. It was as if a huge vacuum cleaner had sucked all the water out of the wetlands. The mass exodus of Marsh dwellers wasn’t far behind. Satellite imagery provides striking visual evidence of the devastation wrought by the drainage activities. The total area of the Marshes inside Iraq in 1973 was 10,500 sq km, roughly the size of Lebanon (Figure 18). This included a few smaller marshes not linked to the three main ones. The satellite photo is important because it provides a definitive baseline of the extent of the Marshes that can be used to observe and analyze future changes.
Figure 18. Satellite image of Marsh extent, 1973 (Landsat images courtesy of the U.S. Geological Survey).
By 2000, 90 percent of the wetlands had vanished (Figure 19). Water remained in northern Hawizeh Marsh and in a few canals, including a wide strip just west of the Tigris River in the Central Marsh. However, except for northern Hawizeh, there was no longer any marsh. Hawizeh Marsh was at least partially immune from Saddam’s transgressions because of water flowing from Iran; there was little Iraq could do to stop this flow short of constructing a major dike along the border. This would happen fifteen years later, but the instigator would be Iran. The deep lake in Hawizeh, Umm Al-Ni‘aj, remained a prominent feature in the region.
Figure 19. Satellite image of Marsh extent, 2000 (Landsat imagery courtesy of the U.S. Geological Survey)