Healing the Wounds of History—Honouring the Victims of the Anfal Genocide

Iraqi First Lady Shanaz Ibrahim Ahmed

Written by Iraqi First Lady Shanaz Ibrahim Ahmed, Originally Published by Newsweek

In May 2003, I stood alongside the late British MP and humanitarian Ann Clwyd at a mass grave near Baghdad, a site that bore the remains of thousands executed by Saddam Hussein's regime. Among the haunting remnants, one image has stayed with me—a child's lock of hair, neatly plaited and tied with a small red ribbon, matted with mud. That grave near al-Mahawil, one of the largest discovered after the fall of the Baathist regime, was believed to hold up to 15,000 souls. Its unearthing was a chilling reminder of the brutality that once gripped Iraq and the enduring grief of families seeking answers.

Two decades later, I found myself once again at a mass grave—this time in the Tel Al-Sheikhiya Desert in the Al-Salman District of Al-Muthanna province. Beneath this arid land lay the remains of about 100 Kurdish women and children, victims of the Anfal genocide. Within meters, three other mass graves have also been identified and are believed to contain the remains of Anfal victims, potentially making this the largest site of its kind in Iraq. This discovery is a stark testament to the atrocities of Saddam Hussein's campaign of extermination as well as a call to action—to honor the memory of those lost and provide closure to their families.

Initial forensic investigations into the exhumed remains paint a horrific picture of the victims' final moments. Evidence indicates that the victims were shot, execution-style, from both sides before being shot again from above. The remains of some adults reveal desperate attempts to shield children from the bullets, with their bodies positioned protectively over the smaller ones.

The Anfal genocide, one of modern history's darkest chapters, claimed 182,000 Kurdish, Assyrian, Shabak, Turkman, Yazidi, and Mandean lives and destroyed 4,500 villages. In a few short months in 1988, the Baathist regime waged a campaign of extermination against the Kurds of Iraq, forcibly displacing and murdering them under the pretext of quelling rebellion. Today, the echoes of those victims cry out for recognition and justice.

Yet the path to justice is neither simple nor swift. Since 2019, only two Anfal mass graves have been unearthed, and countless others remain hidden beneath the soil. The process of excavation, identification, and DNA matching is meticulous and complex, requiring advanced scientific expertise and relentless determination.

For the first time, the identification process is being formally coordinated through a joint effort by doctors from the Ministry of Justice, the International Committee on Missing Persons (ICMP), the Martyrs Foundation, the Forensics Medicine Department of the Ministry of Health, and other local experts, all spearheaded by my office. To date, 1,200 blood samples have been collected from families of the disappeared—primarily in Kalar, Chamchamal, and Koya—out of 1,600 registered families. Despite these challenges, our priority is to return the remains of victims to their families, allowing them the dignity of proper burials and granting them a measure of solace in knowing that their sacrifices for freedom have not been forgotten.

Iraq is not alone in its reckoning with such horrors. Recently, mass graves have been uncovered near Damascus, reportedly containing the remains of thousands of victims of the ousted regime of Bashar al-Assad. Like Iraq, Syria now faces its own painful process of identifying victims, preserving evidence, and ensuring justice for the victims' families.

Neither mission is without obstacles. Political hurdles and bureaucratic delays have hindered progress in Iraq, but as I have pledged to families of the victims, we will spare no effort in cutting through red tape and pushing ahead. This work is far from over and the task ahead remains monumental. We must preserve these sites as enduring testaments to the victims' sacrifices and as warnings to future generations about the consequences of unchecked tyranny.

The lessons of the Anfal genocide resonate beyond Iraq. These mass graves and their horrific revelations highlight the shared pain of nations scarred by violence and oppression, where authoritarian regimes turned their lands into silent cemeteries. Our collective responsibility as nations is to preserve this history and work tirelessly to prevent such atrocities from happening again.

As I stood on that sacred ground in the Tel Al-Sheikhiya Desert, I felt the suffering of the victims and the urgency of our responsibility. Their families deserve more than our sympathy; they deserve action. This work is not just about the past, it is about our future. Every life lost in those graves is a testament to the cost of silence and inaction. Their stories must be told, and their sacrifices etched into the conscience of humanity forever. Together we must preserve their memory, deliver justice, and build a future where no child clings to their mother in fear.