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"It takes courage to talk about what happened, because it hurts so much," says Sheikh Ahmed al-Muhairi. And yet, the 27-year-old leader believes it is important tohave forgiveness and not rage influence his life.

Four years after his father and four uncles were killed by the terror group "Islamic State,"he now welcomes tribal members in his refurnished reception room in the Iraqi town of Hawija.

His house, like many others in his neighborhood in Hawija, 290 kilometers(180 miles) north of Baghdad, was destroyed in an IS attack.

And yet, the young sheikh has set a landmark by welcoming families of IS members back into the community.

This is rare in Iraq, where houses of IS members are rather destroyed to prevent their families from returning.

Sheikh Ahmed, however, considers these women and children his responsibility. "I forgave the families who were connected with Daesh,"he says, using the local term for the extremist group.

"The women and children pose no danger," he says. "Also, they are part of the tribe, and we cannot let those links be broken. The perpetrators, of course, are the responsibility of the police."

In his view, the alternative would be dreadful.

If a community were not able to include these families, he sees a risk of radicalization among the relatives, includingchildren.

Sheikh Ahmed admits that reconciliation has stagnated although other tribal leaders have started following his lead. For most people, it is still far too painful.

A suicide bombing in Baghdad leaves destruction in its wake

The return of IS widows to their hometowns and villages means that they move in next door to people who were victims of the very group their husbands or sons were affiliated with.

On the one hand, it is a step towardnormalizationin the country.

On the other, it is a broad issue, as up to 30,000 people could return one day from the camps in Syria that now house IS families. This comes in addition to more than 17,000 people who were involved with IS, and are still in Iraq.

Only recently, Intissar Ali Hamad and her five children have left an Iraqi camp for internally displaced persons to settle in a poor neighborhood in Mosul.

Her husband, as well as her eldest son andfather-in-law, had joined IS. She is fully aware that it is only thanks to her neighbors that she has been allowed to return.

However, her house was partly burned down, and the 45-year-old had to set up a tent for the family to sleep in. A nongovernmental organizationhelped her build a wall around the property to protect her from more vengeful neighbors.

But even the protective wall has led to jealousy among neighbors. "Those Daeshi get everything," one neighbor told DW."We get nothing."

"My son was only 13 when he joined," Hamad told DW, sighing. Today, she believes that IS "are no good."

"This is not the life I wanted. It was us, the families, who suffered the most."

Intissar Ali Hamad is among IS widows

With this, she doesn't only refer to the two years she spent in a prison camp. Her main worry is the poverty the family has ended up in, and the way they are treated now.

"People are scared," she says, "and if they report me, I will be picked up immediately."

Without the protection of her well-meaningneighbors, she wouldn't be able to stay in her house.

Life is also tough for her kids. They are called names when they play outside their walled home.

IS widows like Hamadare barred from government benefits, like widow's pensions. The stigma they carry is likely to be carried over to the next generation.

Since Ali Hamad's now 5-year-old son was born in an IS hospital, she cannot get him a valid Iraqi birth certificate without his father's approval.

However, since her husband has never officially been declared dead, she still needs his signature for everything, including signing her son up for school.

Without governmental support, the families barely makeends meet. They live off the income of her daughter, who works at a potato factory.

The walled structure on the right is Intissar Ali Hamad's home in Mosul

Despite such unsolved situations, which are common among returning IS families, the Iraqi government hasn't yet set up a framework for integration.

So far, IDP camps are being closed, and reconciliation has been delegated to regional levels.

In Mosul, once the capital of the IS caliphate, Vice-Governor Ali Omar Gabou has made it his job to help families return home, or relocate them.

So far, more than a thousand IS families have been resettled in Mosul's Al-Mahalabia district.

"This is far away from where they came from originally, so there is no direct conflict between the families and their neighbors," he explains.

It isalsoimportant that the returnees' husbands and sons didn't harm anyone in those neighborhoods, he adds.

Other IS supporters have openly distanced themselves from IS and were backed by a guarantor before they were able to return.

Moreover, security forces checked their backgrounds and continue to keep an eye on them.

Seif is a teenager who was able to return home to his family in Mosul's Al-Mahalabia district. He was 17 years old when he joined the IS in 2014.

However, his father says he was in the training camp for only one night before he got his sonout.

This story is often used for youths who joined the group in order to excape the severe punishment meeted out to former IS fighters.

After the fall of IS, Seif did jail time in Iraqi Kurdistan, as someone told the Kurdish authorities that he had been with IS.

"He is sorry for the choice he made," his father says stiffly, adding that "now he wants to get on with his life." The family preferred to not share their family name, and Seif's father identified himself to DW asAbu Seif, or "the father of Seif."

The boy's family is considered an IS family for two reasons: Seif's decision, as well as the fact that they stayed in Al-Mahalabia during the occupation.

Abu Seif is angry about that, as he considers himself a victim. "It was a hard time and I lost everything. Two of our houses were destroyed during the battle, and my farm with 32 cows was bombed because of a Daesh gathering next door."

Abu Seif is considered head of an IS family, but sees himself as a victim

For now, the younger Seif has left again, back to Iraqi Kurdistan for work. The family's next-door neighbor, 42-year-old Hussein Ahmed, implies that this is better for the community.

However, it was he who picked Seif up after he was released from a local prison where he servedsome time after his return from the Kurdish jail.

"Our children played together, and the family doesn't have a car," Ahmed explains.

Does he trusthis neighbor again? "The chance that he will rejoin the group is small, they saw that what Daesh did had nothing to do with humanity or justice."

In addition to Seif, two other young men who were recruited by IShave also returned to the town.

"They were born here and they have their properties here. If we refuse them, they might turn against us," Ahmed says.

He also highlights that in terms of daily life, "everything is back to normal, as it was before Daesh."

Similar to the community in Hawija, in Mosulnobody talks about what happened. There are no apologies, norexchange of experiences. "I avoid the subject with him, and he doesn't talk about it either," says Ahmed's son Osama, who grew up with Seif.

In Mosul, Vice-Governor Ali Omar Gabou complains about Baghdad's lack of vision about how to reintegrate IS members and their families.

"If the government does not rehabilitate them, they will join other radical groups and we will never break the cycle of violence," Gabou says. He alsobelieves that "women and children are not to blame."

For him, the alternative is worse. "If we do not solve their problem, it will only grow and with it, the risk of new conflict."

Edited by:Stephanie Burnett and Sonya Diehn

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Iraq: IS returnees met with tolerance and distrust - Deutsche Welle

Iraq is the worlds second-worst offender of greenhouse gas emissions, according to the World Bank

Iraq is one of the most vulnerable countries to the effects of climate change, as residents in the southern city of Basra are dealing with a significant amount of air pollution as a result of nearby oil fields.

The flames that burn in the oil fields of Iraq are known as gas flaring - burning off the natural gas during oil extraction, a common practice as old as the oil industry, i24NEWS reported.

However, it is also one of the biggest polluters, and Iraq is the worlds second-worst offender according to the World Bank, contributing roughly 10 percent of the global flaring greenhouse emissions.

Oil is a major driver for the climate crisis, but residents in Basra - which sits on some of the worlds largest oil reserves - say it is also the cause of a local environmental disaster.

The mayor of a village in the Basra province noted that cancer cases, as well as respiratory illnesses, are rising at an alarming rate.

He added that in one village alone, there are about 40 cancer cases in 130 households, many of them children.

Officials from Iraqs Environment Ministry say that everything, from the remnants of war to industrial waste, contributes to Basras pollution.

However, the oil industry is the mother of all pollution in Basra and other provinces, Faiza al-Rbaiae of the Environment Ministry told i24NEWS.

The Iraqi Oil Ministry claims that it is shifting towards green and clean energy, and Iraqpledged to eliminate all routine gas flaring by 2030.

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Iraq: Oil Fields Taking Toll On Environment And Community - I24NEWS - i24NEWS

Issued on: 25/11/2021 - 15:42

Mosul (Iraq) (AFP) Iraqi volunteers started planting the first of thousands of trees in war-ravaged Mosul on Thursday, hoping to green the former Islamic State group stronghold.

They placed the first 300 acacia, lemon tree and cypress saplings into the ground in a project that aims to plant 5,000 new trees in the northern city, much of which still lies in ruins.

"Mosul was a disaster province," said one volunteer, 23-year-old beekeeper Aysan Samir, at the first site, Mosul's Technical University campus. "Replanting green spaces brings hope and life back to the city."

Oil-rich Iraq, devastated by decades of war and chaos, is also one of the countries most threatened by climate change and already faces intense summer heat, water stress and frequent droughts.

The country of 40 million could suffer a further 20-percent drop in water resources by mid-century, the World Bank warned in a report Wednesday.

"In recent years we have seen the impact on the environment and climate in Mosul," said Abdel Aziz al-Saleh of Mosul Eye, the citizen media group carrying out the French-funded project.

"There is less rainfall, groundwater is drying up, temperatures are rising."

The Mosul Eye collective was created initially while the city was under the brutal rule of the IS, whose jihadists were eventually driven out in 2017 after gruelling urban battles.

Saleh said the volunteers are also planting pines, neem trees and small flamboyant trees called the king's whiskers in Arabic.

"The objective is to fight against desertification in Mosul," he said, "especially as we don't have many green spaces, many of which have disappeared with the war."

2021 AFP

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Hope takes root with tree planting in war-wrecked Iraq city - FRANCE 24

The wreckage of British Airways BA 149 which landed in Kuwait hours after Iraqi forces had entered the country and whose passengers and crew were detained by the invading forces and held hostage for up to five months. According to reports on Tuesday, Nov. 23, 2021, files being released to the National Archives show that the warning to the Foreign Office that Iraqi forces had entered Kuwait was not passed on to British Airways even though it had a flight heading to the Gulf state. (PA Wire)

LONDON More than 300 passengers and crew on a British Airways flight could have been spared a months-long hostage ordeal in 1990 in Kuwait if Britain's Foreign Office had informed the airline that Iraq had commenced its invasion of its oil-rich Persian Gulf neighbor, newly disclosed files showed Tuesday.

According to the files, the British ambassador to Kuwait warned the Foreign Office that Iraqi forces had crossed the border an hour before Flight BA149 from London to Kuala Lumpur touched down in Kuwait for refueling in the early hours of Aug. 2, 1990. That information was passed to other parts of government and to the intelligence services, but not to the airline, which was thereby not able to divert the flight.

Within hours of landing, passengers and crew had been detained by Iraqi troops. Many then spent nearly five months used by Iraq's then-dictator Saddam Hussein as "human shields" in an attempt to thwart a retaliation from Western forces they were dispersed to potential targets across Iraq and some suffered post-traumatic stress after being subjected to abuse, including mock executions, and witnessing atrocities.

The files were disclosed under the so-called "20-year rule," whereby government papers are progressively released to the public. Before 2013, the papers were released after 30 years.

Foreign Secretary Liz Truss said it is "unacceptable" that it took so long for the truth to come out about the warning from the ambassador, Michael Weston.

In a written statement to lawmakers, she expressed her "deepest sympathy" to those who were detained and subsequently mistreated.

There has been widespread speculation since the flight landed in Kuwait that a group of around 10 men were aboard the flight for the purpose of gathering information about Iraq's intentions. In the weeks running up to the invasion, Saddam's government had adopted an increasingly bellicose tone to its neighbor, voicing historic grievances primarily related to its oil reserves.

The British government has faced claims that it allowed the flight to go ahead despite the danger because it was carrying a Special Forces team it wanted to infiltrate into the country.

Truss said the papers show that the government of then Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher hadn't acted inappropriately.

"The government at the time did not seek to exploit the flight in any way by any means whatsoever," she said, in diplomatic language that has been used by government officials for years.

The release of the papers was met with deep skepticism by passenger Barry Manners, who was a 24-year-old businessman at the time.

Manners, who said he spent two years recovering from his ordeal upon his release in December 1990, said he is "gobsmacked" at the suggestion there were no military personnel on board.

The people detained were released at different stages for a variety of reasons. By the middle of December 1990, the last of the hostages had been freed. A month later, a United Nations coalition, led by the United States, started an intensive air campaign against Iraqi troops before the ground offensive commenced on Feb. 24, 1991. Within four days, Kuwait had been liberated. The allied forces did not pursue Iraqi troops and Saddam Hussein was able to consolidate his power, remaining in power until April 2003 after the U.S.-led invasion of his country in the wake of the 9/11 attacks.

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UK: British Airways flight not informed of Iraq's 1990 invasion of Kuwait - Stars and Stripes

An uncertain future for fossil fuels and long-standing political turmoil have not deterred Iraq from declaring lofty ambitions to nearly double its crude output capacity to 8 million b/d by 2027.

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But the cash-strapped country would require unprecedented levels of outside investment at a time when many international oil companies, already unimpressed with the fiscal terms Iraq has offered for years, are seeking to de-risk their portfolios.

Iraq would need funds not only to boost drilling, but also to massively expand its surface production facilities and export infrastructure, and drastically reduce the vast associated gas flaring that has made it one of the most polluting oil producing countries.

In the north, the Kurdistan Regional Government's chronic cash flow shortages and budget disputes with the federal government in Baghdad remain major obstacles to growing its oil sector.

It adds up to significant doubt over the likelihood Iraq can hit its declared production target.

"I do not think the 8 million b/d is technically real or achievable," said Hussain al-Chalabi, a London-based Iraqi oil consultant who in 2020 was nominated to become the country's oil minister before the fledgling government of Prime Minister-designate Mohammed Allawi collapsed.

By now, Iraq was supposed to be pumping more than 9 million b/d, according to its National Energy Strategic Plan adopted in 2013, which would have put it in the same league as oil giants the US, Russia and fellow OPEC member Saudi Arabia.

But years of insurgency by the Islamic State ravaged its economy and destabilized its political system. Then the coronavirus pandemic crashed oil prices, prompting OPEC and its allies to institute historic production cuts in 2020, which have been gradually unwound.

Iraqi crude production, including from the semiautonomous Kurdish region, was 4.17 million b/d in October, according to the latest S&P Global Platts survey of OPEC output.

Platts Analytics projects that Iraq's crude production capacity, not including condensate and NGLs, will reach just 4.72 million b/d in 2027, and eventually rise to 5.74 million b/d by 2040 solid growth, but nowhere near the 8 million b/d target announced by oil minister Ihsan Ismaael in October.

Some Iraqi analysts told Platts they believe the country could achieve 6 million b/d by 2027, but that would be highly dependent on prevailing policies, OPEC+ quotas and other potential constraints.

The ministry has recently signed several deals to boost output, notably a $27 billion contract with TotalEnergies that includes raising production at the Ratawi oil field from 85,000 b/d to 210,000 b/d by 2027.

Iraq also has ongoing drilling contracts at its Rumaila, Majnoon, Dhi-Qar and Zubair oil fields, and just inked another agreement for 96 new wells at West Qurna-1. Ismaael said Nov. 19 that West Qurna-2, operated by Lukoil, would reach peak production of 800,000 b/d by 2027, doubling its current output.

Lukoil has also submitted a preliminary development proposal for the Eridu field, which may yield 250,000 b/d at peak.

New surface production facilities are being built in Majnoon and Zubair, but no other similar projects are in the works for other fields. However, at Rumaila, existing infrastructure would allow the field to produce 150,000 b/d more than its current capacity of 1.45 million b/d.

To raise substantial new investment, Iraq would need to markedly improve its fiscal terms, observers say. The ministry has typically relied on technical service contracts with foreign operators, such as ExxonMobil, BP and Shell.

But IOCs largely prefer production sharing contracts that would allow them to count reserves on their balance sheets and boost their valuations. Despite holding some of the cheapest reserves to develop, Iraq has generated lukewarm interest in its most recent bidding rounds over the past decade.

Already, Iraq has seen Shell exit its investment in Majnoon, while ExxonMobil has filed for arbitration to sell off its share in West Qurna-1 against the wishes of the oil ministry, and BP spun off its Rumaila operations into a new subsidiary under its energy transition strategy. Lukoil also sought to offload its West Qurna-2 stake before withdrawing its request in July.

Beyond the fiscal terms, many western oil companies are facing regulatory and shareholder pressure to green their holdings.

"IOCs are less attracted to new investment in their oil sector, and they are trying to abide by sustainable development goals and restructuring their portfolios," Chalabi said.

A major environmental concern is gas flaring. Iraq burned 17.37 Bcm of associated gas in 2020, the second highest globally behind Russia, according to the World Bank.

Iraq is planning to spend $3 billion annually to eliminate flaring by 2025, but increasing crude production to 8 million b/d would substantially increase volumes of associated gas, requiring more investment in capture and treatment plants that could eat into profits from higher crude sales.

In the Kurdish region, the KRG, fiscally overspent after being on the front lines of the battle against the IS, has frequently fallen behind in payments to IOCs, and the budget struggles have reduced the attractiveness of oil development, analysts say.

KRG-controlled production has been about 470,000 b/d in recent months, according to Platts estimates, down from a peak of roughly 600,000 to 650,000 b/d in 2017 before a political row between Erbil and Baghdad led to the federal government's seizure of the Avanah Dome and Bai Hassan field.

Shwan Zulal, a London-based consultant specializing in the Kurdistan region, said the risky investment climate there makes the prospects of rapidly raising crude production difficult.

"You have to attract people to invest," he said. "There are proven reserves. The capacity is there. It's possible, but the politics of producing more oil are difficult."

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Ever ambitious Iraq faces uphill struggle to reach new oil production target - S&P Global