The tragedy of Mosul: battle against Islamic State is leading to all-too-familiar consequences
Similarly, the destruction caused by airstrikes have left some Mosul residents wondering whether the putative cure is any better than the disease. One local expressed his view that: “After watching what happened here, I really believe now that the U.S. and DAESH [IS] are a team, working together to destroy our country.”
Such sentiments do not bode well for national reconciliation and the reintegration of those who have lived under IS rule.
Wider social and humanitarian crisis
Since it began in October 2016, the fight to liberate Mosul from IS has created a humanitarian crisis which is further straining Iraqi and international resources. It has caused mass displacement, destruction, and trauma.
For the 190,000 Iraqis who have been displaced by the Mosul campaign, the most immediate needs are shelter, protection, and food security. The UN is concerned that up to 450,000 displaced people will soon need shelter in camps established near Mosul. It expects 3 to 4 million will remain homeless if and when the fighting finally ends.
Longer term, there will be a need for individual and community healing. Mosul residents have described an IS regime of brutality, propaganda and intimidation. Minority groups have been massacred. Women have been forced into sex slavery. Children have been exposed to brutal violence.
These experiences will leave deep scars and social divisions. Reconciliation will be complex and painful. National political leaders have already found themselves at loggerheads about the shape reconciliation might take.
Years of corruption, which undermines effective service delivery, have eroded the government’s capacity to deal with a new generation of traumatized Iraqis. International support will be vital. But the present UN High Commissioner for Refugees has received only 4 percent of the funding requested.
New vulnerabilities
The impacts of Mosul’s brutal occupation and painful liberation are compounding Iraq’s seemingly endless list of social and economic problems.
Displaced people face difficulties when they try to return home. Returning Mosul residents have to contend with shortages of water, electricity and employment opportunities.
Large amounts of money are needed for reconstruction and to breathe life back into services. The Iraqi government, faced with a looming financial crisis, will rely on international loans for this.
Mosul will remain insecure and dangerous for some time. Problems will persist after liberation including traps, infiltrators and sleepers, and the confusion and fear these tactics create. As in other post-IS cities, various non-state armed groups may play a role in providing security. This creates the potential for new conflicts.
At the same time, IS tactics will continue to evolve – shifting emphasis from territorial control to guerrilla warfare and terrorist bombings – so it can keep killing Iraqis, target vulnerable communities to stoke religious and ethnic tensions, and try to undermine the Iraqi government’s legitimacy.
The tragedy
For the past few weeks, Iraqis have used the social media hashtag #مأساة_الموصل, masat al-Mosul – “the tragedy of Mosul” – to share news reports and images from Mosul and surrounding areas.
It has also been used to request donations to various relief efforts for displaced people, often accompanying photos of volunteers and their supplies.
There is no equivalent hashtag in English. This is a small but telling reflection of Western indifference to Iraqi civilian deaths and international news media priorities.
The tragedy of Mosul is that while IS’s territorial project in Iraq is coming to an end, it is creating new problems – destruction, displacement, trauma – that exacerbate the country’s existing challenges.
The West must acknowledge its role in stoking this crisis, just as Russia and Iran have been responsible for suffering in Syria. Mosul, it seems, is the West’s Aleppo.
Damian Doyle is Ph.D. Candidate, Centre for Arab and Islamic Studies, Australian National University. Tristan DunningSchool of Political Science and International Studies, School of Historical and Philosophical Inquiry, The University of Queensland. This article is published courtesy of The Conversation (under Creative Commons-Attribution / No derivative).
