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11
The Amnesty and its
Exclusions
"We were useless. They said it was unjust to waste
bread on us."
-- Rahman Hamid Nader of Darbarou village, Taqtaq,
on his release from Nugra Salman prison.
Decree no. 736 of the Revolutionary Command
Council was read out on the radio early on the afternoon of September 6, just
after the mid-day prayers. It declared "a general and comprehensive amnesty for
all Iraqi Kurds...both inside and outside of Iraq"--with the sole exception of
"the traitor Al-Talabani...because of his wilful and repeated violations of law
and order, even after he was granted opportunities to reform his ways." Ali
Hassan al-Majid was infuriated by the amnesty, he later told aides, but went
along with it as a loyal party man.1
The optimists among the peshmerga believed
that the amnesty came as the result of outside pressure, that the regime of
Saddam Hussein had been compelled to back down by the international reaction to
revelations that chemical weapons had been used during the Final Anfal. But such
outrage as there was over the Badinan attacks was not a significant contributing
factor to the amnesty. The most scathing comments, and those likely to have had
the greatest influence on Iraq, came from U.S. Secretary of State George Shultz.
But these comments were not made until September 8, a full two days after the
amnesty hadbeen declared.2 It is clear from the Fifth
Corps report on the Final Anfal that the decision to declare a general amnesty
was made because Baghdad was convinced by September 6 that the peshmerga
forces had been crushed. In the words of the press release that accompanied the
amnesty, "These [traitorous] Kurds had relinquished control of their cities and
villages to Khomeini's troops, but God foiled their evil plans."3
The next day, September 7, the Presidential
Cabinet issued an additional order granting Ali Hassan al-Majid and the Northern
Bureau of the Ba'ath Party special powers to facilitate the return of refugees
from Turkey, where their stories had been causing Iraq considerable
embarrassment and annoyance--despite the best efforts of the Turkish government
to minimize the tragedy.4
The refugees would only be allowed to return at
two approved entry points, where special reception camps would be set up. One
was the Ibrahim Khalil international bridge outside Zakho. The other site was
"to be determined by the First Army Corps with all due swiftness." After
processing by a newly constituted Returnee Reception Committee (Lajnet
Istiqbal al-'A'idin), which would operate under Ba'ath Party control, the
refugees would be assigned to complexes. There, they would have the
responsibility of building their own homes; the plot allocated to them would
become their property free of charge after five years--"on conditionthat the
family receives a favorable assessment by the Party and Security authorities of
its conduct from the point of view of loyalty."5
Once the assignment to a mujamma'a had
been made, the Kurds who returned under the amnesty would not be allowed to
move. They were obliged, in fact, to sign or affix their thumbprint to a sworn
statement which read: "I, the undersigned (....) testify that I live in the
governorate of (....), in the section of (....), residence number (....), and I
recognize that I will face the death penalty should the information indicated be
false, or should I alter my address without notifying the appropriate
administration and authorities. To this I affirm my support."6
The refugees were granted only until 6:00 p.m. on
October 9, barely a month, to "return to the national ranks." Anyone who
surrendered to the government after this grace period had expired would be taken
into military custody and handed over to the Ba'ath Party's Northern Bureau
Command--for what purpose it was not stated.7
A flurry of other decrees followed, for although
the regime spoke of a "general" amnesty, it by no means intended that all Kurds
should escape further punishment. First, on September 8, the Revolutionary
Command Council decreed that any amnestied Iraqi Kurds who had been affiliated
with the armed forces, the domestic security services or the jahshwere
henceforth discharged and barred from re-enlisting as volunteers.8
The authorities were also worried that those "returning to the national ranks"
would offer fertile soil for any attempt at reorganization by the peshmerga--even
if the "saboteurs" seemed, for the time being, to present no further threat.
Accordingly, Ali Hassan al-Majid resolved that it was necessary for those who
benefited from the amnesty to have their civil rights radically curtailed and
their activities strictly monitored. "Kurdish citizens shall be treated by the
same standards applied to any other Iraqi citizen in so far as their rights and
duties are concerned," the Northern Bureau ordered, "with the exception of those
Kurds who benefited from the amnesty decree no. 736 of September 8, 1988."
These shall not be treated on an equal footing
with other Iraqis in terms of rights and duties, unless they can effectively
match good intentions with proper conduct and demonstrate that they have ended
all collaboration with the saboteurs, and that they are more loyal to Iraq than
their peers who have benefited from the above-mentioned amnesty decree.
In dealing with such cases, the following
parameters shall apply:
1: These Kurds shall not be entitled to be
nominated for membership in the National Assembly (Al-Majlis al-Watani),
the Legislature (Al-Majlis al-Tashri'i), the People's Councils (Majlis
al-Sha'ab), the Municipal Councils (Majlis al-Baladiya) or mass
organizations.
2: Those Kurds who took advantage of the
Amnesty Decree shall not be entitled to sell, buy or lease state lands or
concerns for which ownership is attributed to the state. Nor shall they be
entitled to enter into any contract with any state organ or to engage in private
business, whether as professionals or workers, until a period of two years has
elapsed since their return to the national ranks.
3: The competent authorities will monitor the
behavior of those who benefited from the amnesty decree, and will determine
their inclinations through the placement of thorough and diligent informers in
their midst.9
In its attempt to understand the thinking of
the few "saboteurs" who survived, Amn scrutinized a communique in which
the Kurdish opposition-in-exile gave its response to the general amnesty decree.10
Kurdish propagandists were presenting the decree as a victory, Amn
reported; it had been issued "to try and absorb part of the resentment inside
the country, and to ease the worldwide campaign of protest." In the wake of its
crushing of the Kurds, the regime no doubt found this show of bravado amusing.
"The subject has been brought to the attention of the Struggling Comrade Ali
Hassan al-Majid, Secretary General of the Northern Bureau," the Amn
report concluded, "and his excellency's view of the matter was this: that those
who betray Iraq or remain abroad should no longer be entitled to keep their
nationality."11
* * *

Guards broke the news of the amnesty to the
women and children at the Dibs army base and the Salamiyeh prison, to the old
people who had survived the summer in Nugra Salman, and to the last groups of
prisoners who remained at the Popular Army camp of Topzawa. Refugees in Iran and
Turkey learned of the amnesty from Baghdad Radio and reported by the thousand to
army border posts. According to former field officers in Badinan, the order came
down instructing them no longer to kill their prisoners.12
Even fighters returning from Iran were not mistreated at the border. One group
of former peshmerga who turned themselves in at the military base at
Piramagroun, close to the destroyed PUK headquarters at Sergalou, was briefly
questioned before being released. "We were asked about the size of our forces,
the kinds of weapons we used, and our reasons for fleeing to Iran. They asked us
what we wanted. I answered that we were Kurds and that we wanted our rights. The
government gave us one document to get us through the checkpoints, and another
that gave us permission to be in the new mujamma'at where we had been
assigned to live."13
One group, however, seems to have been singled
out for a harsher welcome. These were the draft dodgers and deserters who had
eluded capture in the mountains, warding off starvation by eating wild grasses
and the crops that had been left in the fields outside abandoned and bulldozed
villages. Some of these Kurds were returned to their old units and detained for
as long as five months--in the custody, ironically, of the same army that had "Anfalized"
their families and destroyed their homes. One group of sixty deserters from the
Shwan area surrendered to the army in Kirkuk after four months on the run. Each
man was given a letter to his old military unit and detained at that unit's
base. "We were put in small overcrowded rooms with no space to sleep and very
little food, and soldiers and officers beat me with cables," said Rezgar, a
young man who was imprisoned at the army's Khaled camp, outside Erbil. From
here, he was transferred to a training camp in the city, where he spent weeks
being drilled and listening to lectures from a Kurdish officer on the virtues of
the Ba'ath Party. "'What good is theBa'ath Party?' we asked. 'If the Ba'ath
Party is so good, where are our families and our villages?' They had no answer
to this." After two months the men were released, but not before the army
confiscated ten dinars (then $30) from each of them--"for the rebuilding of Fao,"
scene of the costliest battle of the Iran-Iraq War.14
Dispersal of the
Camp Survivors

For the inmates of Topzawa, Dibs and Nugra
Salman, the regime used two principal dispersal points, and a number of
secondary ones. Most of the detainees were abandoned either in Suleimaniyeh city
or in nearby Arbat. A few were taken on as far as Chamchamal, where they were
eventually resettled in the new Shoresh complex, or to Kalar, where their final
home would be the complex of Sumoud. One old woman from the Taqtaq area reported
being left off a little closer to her former home, at a government building in
Dukan. Officials there asked her only a few questions. Had her sons been
peshmerga? they wanted to know:
"No," she replied, "they are with the
government."
"Al-hamdu lillah," the men replied. Thanks
be to God.
* * *

"Stand in line, you criminals," a guard
snapped at the several thousand elderly inmates who had survived the rigors of
Nugra Salman. "You must remember this experience forever, and you shall never
think of doing anything against our leader, Saddam Hussein. You have been
granted amnesty." The Amn guards registered their names once more and
began to sort everyone out into different groups. It was time to get rid of
these useless people by dumping them in the cities, the loathsome Lt. Hajjaj was
heard to remark.15
The prisoners were released from Nugra Salman at
weekly intervals. Convoys of vehicles arrived every Saturday, and took them away
in fearful and crying groups of about five hundred at a time. Occasionally army
IFAs were used, sometimes windowless military transports of the kind used for
the mass execution victims, but more often large civilian buses--"open and
pleasant" vehicles with seats, accommodating fifty or sixty people each. The
lame, the blind and the infirm were the first to be allowed to leave. If a
person was sick or ailing, then his or her entire family was let go from Nugra
Salman at the same time.
The final releases from "the pit of Salman" were
not complete until well into November. One woman who left at the end of October
said that many of those who remained were originally from the Qara Dagh or
Halabja areas.16 But the greatest mystery surrounds the
two large groups of women and children from southern Germian, who had been
brought here from Dibs--the first after about six weeks, and the second not
until August. Numbering about five hundred in all, they were held in separate
quarters at Nugra Salman and forbidden to have any contact with the elderly
prisoners. During their detention, dozens reportedly died of starvation and
disease.
The survivors of this group were the last to be
released from Nugra Salman, with the exception of three old men from the Kifri
area of southern Germian who refused to go until their daughters went too. "When
I was released [in November]," said a teenage girl from Omerbel, "there was no
one left there. We were the last ones."17 Yet some of
the group were never accounted for, such as two adult women and four children
from the village of Benaka (nahya of Tilako). Their disappearances added
to the already immense weight of tragedy that struck this part of southern
Germian in the wake of the Third Anfal.
After release from Nugra Salman, the first stop
was sometimes Topzawa, sometimes Samawa. Sometimes the buses and their Amn
guards travelled north in dog-legged fashion, stopping in both places. Many of
those who were processed through Topzawa had the unnerving experience of passing
once more through the same building--even in some cases spending a night in the
same cell--that had housed them on their outward journey several months earlier.
Others had their namestaken one more time at the Kirkuk office of the Ba'ath
Party. Some of the deportees were issued with new ID papers that bore the words
"Affected by Anfal Operations."18
At Samawa, the nearest town to Nugra Salman, the
newly released prisoners spent anywhere from an hour to a week. The fittest of
them paused only briefly to have their names registered yet again. Those who
were sick were "treated very kindly" by army personnel in an empty school or in
the wards of an old military hospital. Everyone was cleaned up; the old men were
shaved. "We looked like monsters," commented an old man from the nahya of
Aghjalar, "we had to be made presentable."19 After the
privations of Nugra Salman, the diet was almost too rich. There was meat, fruit
and rice. "They wanted to show that the government was treating us well,"
remembered a middle-aged man from the Qara Dagh region. "We were given medicine
and good food, like chicken and fish. The guards told us we had to sing and
enjoy ourselves. The government is nice, they told us; it is going to set you
free."20
On arrival at Suleimaniyeh and Arbat, there was
one final name check. Fingerprints were taken, release papers signed. In the
provincial capital some of the prisoners were taken to a security building "like
a big hospital," where friendly city residents tossed food in over the high
walls. Others ended up at the Suleimaniyeh soccer stadium, where the huge crowds
were divided into groups according to their nahya of origin and told that
they were free to go--anywhere but to their home villages (which, in any case,
no longer existed). Anyone who strayed into the prohibited areas, one group was
warned, "will be taken in a helicopter to heaven and dropped to the ground, or
executed without trial."21
At the Ba'ath Party office in Arbat, the message
was the same. Here, a few prisoners were asked to fill in questionnaires about
their family members and issued with new papers. "Do you know why you were
released?" one Ba'ath "comrade" asked a man from the Kalar area. "Because God
saved me," the man answered. After some brief ritual questioning of this sort,
the deportees were told that they should now proceed to "modern villages"--mujamma'at--such
as Sumoud and Bayinjan, where they would be given good housing.
The few who were driven on to Chamchamal had a
somewhat different experience. Here, the newcomers were received by the qaym
maqam, the civilian head of the qadha of Chamchamal. There were the
usual harsh warnings: "They told us not to go to the villages, it was forbidden.
We could not go beyond the paved highway. If they found us out there, we would
be punished."22 New housing would be made available in
local complexes such as Shoresh and Benaslawa. But more significantly, the
prisoners could not go free until local citizens vouched for them and agreed to
take them temporarily into their homes. In some cases these guarantees were
demanded for prisoners in groups of four. There was no shortage of guarantors:
the residents of Chamchamal distinguished themselves once more, as they had
during the April protest to free the Anfal prisoners, by their spontaneous
display of generosity toward their fellow Kurds.
* * *

The Mujamma'a
Dumping Operation

The survivors of Anfal ended up in more than a
dozen complexes, according to their place of origin. Those from the southern
part of Germian gravitated above all to Sumoud ("Steadfastness"), the large
complex outside the town of Kalar. Most people from northern Germian found their
way to Shoresh ("Revolution"), on the outskirts of Chamchamal. Those from the
Lesser Zab Valley were mainly relocated in Benaslawa and Daratou, on the plain
south of Erbil. But the harshest fate of all awaited the survivors of the Final
Anfal in Badinan, who were dumped in their tens of thousands on the barren earth
north of Erbil.
Sumoud and Shoresh had both existed in
rudimentary form since a year before Anfal, having been laid out originally to
house the relocated inhabitants of the 1987 program of village clearances in
Germian and the Erbil plain. As Anfal swept through these areas in 1988, many
fleeingvillagers found refuge in the two complexes, though without official
permission. After the September amnesty, both were enormously expanded to house
the survivors. According to estimates of the Kurdish administration, the
population of Sumoud had grown by 1992 to 50,000, 85 percent of whom were
Anfalakan. Shoresh was even larger. Subdivided into four geographical areas,
it housed 60,000 people, including the entire population of the former district
center of Qader Karam, who were brought here after the town was bulldozed in May
1988. Fully seventy percent of those housed in Shoresh were Anfal survivors.23
The word "housed" may give a misleading
impression, for all that the new arrivals ever received from the Ba'ath
government was a piece of paper giving them nominal title (subject to good
behavior) to a small plot of land and, in a few cases, a bare cement floor.
"Build your house," a former inmate of Nugra Salman was told when he was
released in Kalar. "But how could I build?" he asked Middle East Watch
rhetorically. "I had no children, no son, no food, no money, no mats."24
Gradually, however, two squalid townships came into existence, with rough
cinderblock homes and eventually electric power lines and running water. The
complexes were controlled by police and army posts, and no one could venture
beyond the perimeter without an official pass.
To this arrangement there was no alternative. The
villages and their adjoining farmlands were prohibited, on pain of death, and
Iraqi government files contain many references to individuals and groups of
people executed after being found in "prohibited" areas in the post-Anfal period
as residents of the towns left standing after Anfal were warned over
loudspeakers that anyone sheltering Anfalakan would be punished. The
sweeps even went into the cities, especially Suleimaniyeh; most, if not all, of
the families in the complexes had lost their male breadwinners, and there was no
question of compensation for the lives, homes and property that had been
destroyed and pillaged. There was also no foodwithout ration cards. Entitlement
to these had been based on the 1987 census; each person's card, stamped with the
seal of the Ba'ath Party, was marked with the village and nahya of
residence. Now they could only be obtained by registering as a resident of one
of the complexes--or by the time-honored means of bribery. Some residents of the
mujamma'a of Ber Hoshter were reportedly told by Ba'ath officials that
they would receive food and other privileges if they joined the ruling Party.25
Those who did so found that the promise was an empty one.
Many Anfalakan also found it impossible to
obtain new identity documents, without which there could be no public sector
employment, no education for the children, no access to health care, or other
government services. According to one Anfal widow who was shuttled between the
complexes of Shoresh and Jedideh Zab:
When I went to look for a job, I was told that
Anfal families were not allowed to work. At the school, I was told that Anfal
families could not register their children. At the hospital, we were denied
treatment for the same reason. I wanted to get IDs for my children, but the
authorities were not allowed to issue them. At the school they told me I needed
a citizenship card for the children. They sent me to Chamchamal and Erbil, and
from there to Baghdad, to the Secretary General of Amn. I finally got a
letter saying my husband was lost in Anfal, but this was less of a help than a
hindrance. It marked me. The police station at the Jedideh Zab complex told me
this letter should make things easier for me, but when people saw it I was
always turned down.26
* * *

A half-dozen camps--for want of a better
word--straggled across the barren, windswept scrubland northeast of the city of
Erbil. At a Northern Bureau meeting on September 7, Ali Hassan al-Majid
decidedto have the survivors of the Badinan campaign trucked to this
inhospitable area from the prison at Salamiyeh, from the fort at Dohuk, from the
smaller army posts at Atrush and Aqra, and from the Turkish border, where they
had now begun to arrive in response to the previous day's amnesty. The largest
single contingent was to be dumped, in many cases at dead of night, on a patch
of wasteland near the complex of Baharka. The site came to be known as Jezhnikan,
after a nearby Kurdish village destroyed in an earlier army campaign. Over time,
the twin settlements of Baharka-Jezhnikan, housing 4,241 families, effectively
merged into one single, huge complex.27
There was nothing here to welcome the new
arrivals: just bare earth, thorn bushes and guard towers with machine guns. It
was September, and while the days still brought fierce heat, the nighttime chill
heralded the approach of winter. There was no protection from the elements.
"They gave us nothing, we had to sleep on the ground, we were starving," said
one man who came to Baharka.28 With no infrastructure,
no food or water, no housing or shelter, it was clearly a matter of complete
indifference to the planners of Anfal whether these deportees lived or died, and
the camp guards frequently told them as much.
Yet most of them survived as the result of a
prodigious private voluntary relief effort. The Kurdish citizens of Erbil were
the first to help, bringing food, water, tea, sugar and blankets to the
Anfalakan, often at great personal risk. In time they were helped by
relatives of the camp inmates--those who had survived Anfal because their place
of residence was a town or a mujamma'a. The first volunteers were fired
on as they tried to approach Baharka and Jezhnikan across the open scrub;
laterthey were detained by soldiers, questioned and beaten. But in the end the
authorities turned a blind eye to the relief operation, perhaps because they
feared the spread of disease from the camps.29
By the end of the year, epidemics were rife.
There were outbreaks of typhoid and hepatitis, as well as the more routine--but
still deadly--scourges of influenza and dysentery. Despite the best efforts of
the people of Erbil, many of the camp residents failed to make it through that
first autumn and winter.30 The great majority of those
who died were children, many of them from villages in Dohuk governorate that had
been exposed to chemical weapons. Villagers from Tilakru, Warmilleh and Warakhal
all reported burying many of their infants in Baharka, and one elderly woman
from Gizeh, herself injured in a poison gas attack, lost three small
grandchildren in Jezhnikan. They were Zana Muhammad Sharif (age two), Nahida
(age two) and her brother Saman Abd-al-Rahman (age four).31
For the first few months the deportees lived in
makeshift "shades" of blankets or plastic sheeting on a crude framework of
wooden stakes or poles. During this time the only solid structures were the
guard towers, and the offices of Amn and Istikhbarat. Although the
camp residents--having been victims of Anfal--were not able to obtain building
loans from the state Real Estate Bank, after a year or so they had begun to
build more substantial homes, thanks to the cheap sale or outright donation
ofcinderblocks from a local factory. Gradually, the complexes began to take on
the semi-permanent appearance of the dozens of others that the Iraqi regime had
built during earlier waves of Kurdish resettlement. At first no one was allowed
to leave the camps for more than an hour a day, and then only with a permit. But
after three months or so these rules were relaxed, and the Ba'ath Party issued
passes that allowed people to travel to Erbil to shop and, eventually, to work.
Some of the able-bodied teenage boys and elderly men managed to find jobs as
laborers on construction sites, although most families remained without any
significant source of income.
Free now to move outside the camp, many of the
women journeyed to Erbil to inquire after their missing husbands and brothers.
The police and officials at the governorate gave them the runaround: "We have no
information...perhaps in a couple of days...don't worry, they are on their way."
The more persistent women were referred to the authorities in Dohuk, or Mosul,
or Baghdad. But there was never any news, and none of their men were ever seen
again.
By the summer of 1990, with government control of
Iraqi Kurdistan fully restored, the inmates of Baharka-Jezhnikan were told that
they were free to leave. There was no question of their being allowed to return
to their home villages, which were now rubble. But many accepted the alternative
of resettlement in one of the smaller complexes in Dohuk governorate--Hizawa,
Gri Gowr, Telkabber and others--that were closer to their former homes in a
Kurmanji-speaking area. Others stayed where they were, and two years after they
arrived the government finally supplied the complex with water and electricity
and opened primary and secondary schools. And there some 15,000 of the Badinan
deportees remained until the spring of 1991, the Gulf War and the failed Kurdish
uprising (raparin) that followed. As the uprising spread to the bleak
camps on the Erbil plain, their inmates tore down the Amn post and the
police station and took control of their own affairs for a few short days. But
then the Republican Guard retook the complexes and drove the Anfalakan of
Baharka-Jezhnikan into exile in Iran, leaving them homeless and destitute once
more.
* * *

The Fate of the
Christians and Yezidis

Barely two weeks after the arrival of the
first deportees at Baharka--a number of testimonies suggest that the exact date
was September 23 or 24, 1988--the official loudspeakers announced that a number
of the camp's inmates should present themselves at the police station without
delay. Those who were singled out in this way were either Assyrian and Chaldean
Christians or members of the Yezidi sect of ethnic Kurds. What happened to these
two groups remains one of the great unexplained mysteries of Anfal: a brutal
sideshow, as it were, to the Kurdish genocide.
Despite Kurdish demands for autonomy, Iraqi
Kurdistan is far from ethnically homogenous. Although its minority populations
have declined sharply in number in the course of the 20th century, as the result
of massacre, flight and religious conversion, the region is still home to three
important groups. In addition to the Yezidis and the Assyrians (and their
Catholic subgroup, the Chaldeans), there is an important Turkoman concentration
in the mixed city of Kirkuk and several neighboring towns. With the exception of
male deserters and draft dodgers, the Turkomans have long lived in
government-controlled areas and have sometimes had tense relations with the
Kurds. The Assyrians and the Yezidis are quite different cases, and despite
violent conflicts with the Kurds earlier this century, the two groups have made
common cause with them since the 1960s, sharing a common legacy of oppression by
the regime in Baghdad.
The Assyrians, who number more than a million,
are one of the oldest Christian communities in the Middle East. Most of them now
live in the cities--Mosul, Dohuk and Erbil all have large Christian populations,
as does the resort town of Shaqlawa. By the time of Anfal their once large rural
presence had dwindled to a handful of villages in the mountains of Badinan.
These were attractive places, with pretty churches, neatly laid out gardens and
orchards, and sophisticated irrigation systems. Those Christians who live in
Iraqi Kurdistan speak Kurmanji as well as their own Aramaic dialects. Although
they are not ethnic Kurds, they also wear Kurdish clothes. Yet the regime
officially classified them as Arabs in the 1977 census, a designation that many
Assyrians and Chaldeans indignantly reject. "Saddam Hussein calls us Arabs
unfairly," one Chaldean Christian told Middle East Watch, pointingindignantly to
the headscarf that he wore as any Muslim Kurd would.32
Having taken an active part in the Kurdish movement for years, they are
sometimes referred to in everyday parlance as "Christian Kurds."33
The Yezidis are a quite different matter.
Kurmanji-speaking ethnic Kurds, they belong to a syncretist sect that worships
the Peacock Angel (Malak Tawus), and are sometimes incorrectly spoken of
as "devil worshippers."34 In northern Iraq, the
Yezidis are mainly concentrated in the hilly plains that stretch from the
southern edge of the Badinan mountains as far as the Tigris river, to the north
of the city of Mosul--areas that are also home to a number of Assyrian
Christians.
This pattern of settlement had left the Yezidis
and Christians prey to a number of earlier campaigns of village destruction by
the Iraqi regime, and it left them prey to Anfal too. Several thousand Yezidis
were displaced from their homes in Jabal Sinjar, west of Mosul, in early 1973.
Along with their Muslim Kurdish neighbors, many Yezidis and Christians in the
Sleivani and Sheikhan areas were removed from their villages during the
Arabization campaign of the mid-1970s. The border clearances of 1977 destroyed a
dozen Christian churches in Badinan, some of them more than a thousand years
old.35 Yet more Yezidis were removed from their homes
and resettled in complexes to make way for the construction of the gigantic
Saddam Dam on the Tigris in 1985. It is apparent that Ali Hassan al-Majid had
nothing but contempt for the Yezidis. "We must Arabize your area," he snaps at
an unnamed official from Mosul in one taperecorded meeting during the Anfal
campaign. "And only real Arabs--not Yezidis who one day say that they are Kurds
and the next that they are Arabs. We turned a blind eye to the Yezidi people
joining the jahsh in the beginning, in order to stop the saboteurs from
growing. But apart from that, what use are the Yezidis? No use."36
Al-Majid seems to have little more regard for the
Assyrians, and the "first stage" of his 1987 program of village clearances
leveled a number of Christian villages in the north. The death of the village of
Bakhtoma that April was vividly described to Middle East Watch by an Assyrian
priest in Dohuk:
I had been told that they would destroy
Bakhtoma because they had already destroyed most of the surrounding villages. It
was around noon when I went to the church of St. George to remove the furniture,
but Iraqi Army tanks and bulldozers were already beginning to roll into the
village. I was the last one to pray in the church. After finishing my prayers, I
removed the furniture to take it with me to Dohuk. It was a very sad day. The
Iraqi soldiers and army engineers put the equivalent of one kilo of TNT at each
corner of the church. After five minutes they blew up the building, and then
went on to demolish every house in the village. Later they paid me compensation
of 3,000 dinars. I went to the head of the Ba'ath Party in Dohuk, to ask why
they were destroying our villages. He replied, "You are Arabs and we decide what
you should do. That is all there is to it." I left his office then; what could I
say?37
* * *

In Anfal there was not even the hope of
compensation, and Assyrian villages like Kani Balaf (in the nahya of
Berwari Bala), Mezeh (Sarseng) and Gund Kosa (Al-Doski) were burned and
bulldozed along with those of their Muslim Kurdish neighbors. Some of the people
from these villages took to the mountains together with the fleeing Kurds.
Hundreds more sought refuge in Turkey. All of them waited where they were until
they heard news of the September 6 amnesty, at which point they surrendered. A
few days after the amnesty a large contingent of Christian and Yezidi refugees
crossed the Khabour river in Turkish buses and gave themselves up to the Iraqi
Army at the border post of Ibrahim Khalil. The Istikhbarat officers
monitoring the repatriation asked the Yezidis and Christians to identify
themselves and then ordered them to form a separate line off to one side. They
said only that the men were to be returned to their army units if they were
deserters, and that the women and children would be sent back to their homes.
The Muslim Kurds who were present were given a piece of paper, marked "To be
sent to Erbil"; the Assyrians and Yezidis left empty-handed. The Kurds were at a
loss to explain this, but assumed that their neighbors were being shown some
special favor.38
After surrendering under the amnesty, the
Christians and Yezidis were sent to Dohuk, like everyone else. The majority of
the group were Yezidis, according to a witness who saw them there, and they
occupied six rooms on the second floor of the fort, segregated from the Muslim
Kurdish prisoners. Word of the new arrivals spread rapidly, and relatives who
heard the news rushed to Dohuk in an attempt to visit them. Isho, an elderly
Chaldean Catholic from the village of Mezeh, came to inquire after his four
sons. None of them was a peshmerga, although three were deserters and the
other a draft dodger. But it was a fruitless visit; Isho learned that all the
Christian and Yezidi men had been taken away the day before in nine sealed
vehicles. It was the last time they were seen alive. The women and children and
the elderly, meanwhile, after a single night in Dohuk, were bussed to the barren
camps of Baharka and Jezhnikan.
And there, after two weeks or so, came the
curious call that the Christians and Yezidis should all report to the police
station or the camp'sBa'ath Party office. Istikhbarat officers drove
through the complexes in a Toyota Landcruiser to broadcast the announcement. The
agents were thorough: later, they went around the camps to deliver the message
individually to each family in turn, as they huddled beneath their temporary
"shades." But there seemed nothing to fear, especially when an Assyrian priest
repeated the request. "You are going to be taken back to the places where we
took you from," one Istikhbarat agent said. "We are going to take you to
your men," said another--a choice of phrasing that may have euphemistically
conveyed the brutal truth.
At the police station, names were read out and
checked off against a master list. One witness recalled that Istikhbarat
then ordered the prisoners to divide themselves up into three groups:
Christians; Yezidis who had surrendered in Dohuk governorate; and Yezidis who
had turned themselves in to the army at Aqra, in the neighboring governorate of
Nineveh. This last distinction made some people suspicious, and several of them
lied about their place of capture, lining up with those who had surrendered in
Aqra.39
Other residents of the camp said they watched
enviously as the Yezidi prisoners waited by the main gate for the minibuses that
they believed would take them to their homes in the Sheikhan area. A few days
later, a single khaki-colored military bus arrived, accompanied by an army
officer and nine or ten soldiers, to pick up twenty-six people from the Assyrian
Christian village of Gund Kosa. Now only a handful of Christians remained, along
with the Yezidis who had surrendered in Aqra--and these people stayed in
Baharka-Jezhnikan until the summer of 1990, when the restrictions on movement
were lifted. None of those who were bussed away from the camps ever reached
their homes, and none was ever seen in the complexes, like Mansuriya (Masirik)
and Khaneq,that were set aside for relocated Christians and Yezidis. The
inescapable conclusion is that all of them were murdered. An Assyrian priest
interviewed by Middle East Watch said that he had assembled a list of some 250
Christians disappeared during Anfal and its immediate aftermath.40
Isho, the elderly Chaldean man from Mezeh
village, embarked on a long and anguished search for his four missing sons. He
wrote a petition to President Saddam Hussein, but received no reply. He begged
Amn and Istikhbarat agents at the Baharka camp to tell him what
could have happened to his sons. They answered that the four would not have been
covered by the September 6 amnesty, since it only applied to ethnic Kurds
(although evidently not to Yezidis). "If we had known that," the old man replied
bitterly, "we would never have surrendered." At some risk to his own life, he
even visited the fort at Dohuk, only to be told that the Christian and Yezidi
men had already been taken away to an unknown destination.
Although the old man's petititon to the president
went unanswered, it did trigger--unknown to him--an internal inquiry by military
intelligence. The results of that Istikhbarat investigation came to light
during Middle East Watch's analysis of the captured Iraqi documents. Detailed
below at pp.340-342, they shed important light on the chain of command of the
Anfal operation. But they do not explain why the Christians and Yezidis should
have been disappeared en masse, even after an amnesty was in force.
One plausible explanation is this: These
obstinate minorities had refused to be part of the "national ranks" as defined
by the Iraqi authorities. To aggravate their crime, they also refused to accept
the regime's designation of their ethnicity. Not only did they want to be
treated like Kurds, they also acted like bad Arabs. Accordingly, they were to be
considered traitors on two counts, and punished accordingly.
1 Iraqi News Agency, as reported in Al-Thawra, September 7, 1988.
Other, broader amnesties were also decreed in the immediate post-Anfal period.
On November 30, 1988, Revolutionary Command Council decree no. 860 announced "a
comprehensive and general amnesty" for all "persons who have engaged in
dissident political activities and subsequently gone into hiding." On February
28, 1989, RCC decree no. 130 declared a general amnesty for all Iraqis who have
fled the country, although again "with the exception of the traitor Jalal
al-Talabani and agents of the Iranian regime." Al-Majid's comments on the
amnesty are from an audiotaped meeting held on April 15, 1989.
2 At its noon briefing on September 8, after Shultz had met with Iraqi
Minister of State Saadoun Hammadi, the State Department described Iraq's use of
chemical weapons against the Kurds as "unjustifiable and abhorrent" and
"unacceptable to the civilized world." See Middle East Watch, Human Rights in
Iraq (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1990), pp. 108-110.
3 Al-Thawra, September 7, 1988.
4 Two versions of the document spelling out al-Majid's powers over refugee
resettlement have come to light. One, apparently the original order, is an
unclassified letter to various departments from the Presidential Office of the
Iraqi Republic, no. Q/1509 of September 7, 1988. The other, dated September 12,
is "secret and confidential" letter no. Sh 3/13631, from Amn Erbil to all
Security Directorates in the governorate.
5 Letter no. Q/1509, dated September 7, 1988, from the Presidential Office of
the Iraqi Republic to "[illegible] Deputy Commander in Chief of the Armed
Forces, Respected Defense Minister, Respected Interior Minister and Ali Hassan
al-Majid, Respected Secretary General of the Northern Bureau."
6 Middle East Watch has examined many files of these sworn statements, duly
filled in by returnees and dated at various times in September and October 1988.
The documents also bear the signatures of representatives of the civil
administration, the police, security and intelligence agencies and the local
Ba'ath Party branch.
7 This procedure is spelled out in two documents, both issued by the local
office of Amn in Shaqlawa. One is a letter to the Ba'ath Party's Returnee
Reception Committee, dated October 7, 1988; the other is a letter (#5823) to all
police stations, dated October 11, 1988.
8 The reader might imagine that this would hardly constitute punishment for a
Kurd. However, entry into the military, the jahsh or the security forces
had always been seen as an option that offered economic benefits as well as
immunity from the regime's anti-Kurdish activities. The prohibition was
therefore a blow to Kurdish aspirations as well as a further erosion of the
civil rights of the Iraqi Kurdish minority. These modifications to the amnesty
were set forth in Revolutionary Command Council decrees nos. 737 (September 8,
1988) and 785 (September 29, 1988).
9 Letter no.14951, dated November 23, 1988 and classified "Secret and
Confidential" from the Secretariat of Amn for the Autonomous Region to
Amn Suleimaniyeh, citing instructions of the Northern Bureau Command.
10 The organization in question here is the Political Command of the Iraqi
Kurdistan Front (Al-Qiyadeh al-Siyasiyeh lil-Jabha al-Kurdistaniyeh
al-Iraqiyeh), a seven-party body (later eight) dominated by the PUK and the
KDP.
11 "Reactions to the General Amnesty for the Kurds." Letter no. Sh.S Sh
3/5089, dated October 18, 1988 and classified "Secret and Confidential," from
Amn Chamchamal to all security directorates.
12 Middle East Watch interview, Zakho, June 24, 1992.
13 Middle East Watch interview, Taqtaq, April 24, 1992.
14 Middle East Watch interview, Taqtaq, April 24, 1992.
15 Middle East Watch interview, Erbil, April 23, 1992.
16 Middle East Watch interview, Zarayen complex, July 28, 1992.
17 Middle East Watch interview, Kifri, March 30, 1993. This account of the
southern Germian women in Nugra Salman also draws on interviews in Basirma
complex, March 24, 1993; Suleimaniyeh, April 1, 1993; and Zakho, April 8, 1993.
18 Middle East Watch interview, Benaslawa complex, April 20, 1992.
19 Middle East Watch interview, Erbil, April 23, 1992.
20 Middle East Watch interview, Ja'faran, Qara Dagh, May 11, 1992.
21 Middle East Watch interview, Erbil, April 23, 1992.
22 Middle East Watch interview, Taqtaq, April 24, 1992.
23 These figures were provided by Jawhar Nameq, speaker of the new Kurdish
Parliament, elected in May 1992. Middle East Watch interview, Erbil, June 18,
1992.
24 This man last saw his two sons, aged eleven and thirteen, in detention in
Tikrit. He also lost fifteen other members of his family in Anfal. Middle East
Watch interview, Suleimaniyeh, May 12, 1992.
25 Middle East Watch interview with former resident of Ber Hoshter, Zarayen
complex, July 28, 1992.
26 Middle East Watch interview, Jedideh Zab complex, May 2, 1992.
27 The decisions of the Northern Bureau meeting are reported in an Amn
Erbil letter dated September 16, 1988. It reads, "It is possible to house the
families returning to the national ranks in the new towns of our governorate, up
to a maximum of 12,714 families, to be distributed among the following new
towns:
Jezhnikan 4,241
Girdachal 2,794
Ber Hoshter 2,314
Shakholan 2,387"
28 Middle East Watch interview, Dohuk, June 2, 1992.
29 This at least was the view expressed to Middle East Watch by a number of
Kurdish doctors in Erbil who had entered Baharka and Jezhnikan clandestinely at
the end of 1988, by which time epidemics were a serious threat.
30 A Middle East Watch-Physicians for Human Rights forensic team investigated
the Baharka-Jezhnikan cemetery in June, 1992, and took measurements of
eighty-five graves of camp inmates. Of these, seventy-one were judged to be of
sub-adult age. For a full discussion of the team's methodology, see The
Destruction of Koreme, pp.65-70, 92-95.
31 Several survivors said that twenty children from Tilakru died in the
camps, as well as thirty from Warmilleh and between thirty-three and forty from
Warakhal. In the first two cases, the effects of exposure to chemical weapons
may well have been a contributing factor. The MEW-PHR forensic team exhumed the
remains of three infant girls in the Baharka-Jezhnikan cemetery; each showed
signs of severe malnutrition and/or disease stress. See The Destruction of
Koreme, p.68.
32 Middle East Watch interview, Erbil, July 7, 1992.
33 The Iraqi Christians had their own peshmerga organization, the
Assyrian Democratic Movement--a full member of the Kurdistan Front. According to
one PUK commander interviewed by Middle East Watch, the ADM had some 100-150 men
under arms. Christians also had five seats reserved for them in the 105-seat
Kurdish parliament elected in 1992.
34 The Peacock Angel is a divinity who may be associated with the Christian
Satan, although he shares none of Satan's evil attributes. See Martin van
Bruinessen, "Kurdish Society, Ethnicity, Nationalism and Refugee Problems," in
Kreyenbroek and Sperl, op. cit., p.37, citing T. Menzel, "Ein Beitrag zur
Kenntnis der Jeziden," in H. Grothe, ed., Meine Vorderasienexpedition, 1906,
1907, Volume 1 (Leipzig: Hiersemann, 1911). See also the chapter on religion
in Izady's The Kurds, pp.131-166.
35 According to a list prepared by Shorsh Resool and published as an appendix
to his 1990 report, Destruction of a Nation.
36 Ali Hassan al-Majid, taperecorded conversation with unnamed Ba'ath
officials, Kirkuk, August 1, 1988.
37 Middle East Watch interview, Dohuk, June 19, 1992.
38 This separation procedure at the Ibrahim Khalil bridge was described by a
number of witnesses. Middle East Watch interviews, Dohuk, September 3 and 5,
1992.
39 The lie was a judicious one, for the separation of the Yezidis suggests
that the regime's intent was to disappear only those who had been captured
within the theater of operations covered by Anfal, which ended at the edge of
Nineveh governorate. This same logic--which reflects bureaucratic rigidity
rather than clemency--is evident in Iraqi government documents dealing with the
treatment of captured civilians. For example, a secret letter from Amn
headquarters in the governorate of Erbil, no. Sh 2/12809, dated August 26, 1988,
says that two named individuals detained in the Anfal theater have been
"returned by the Northern Bureau Command, due to the fact that they are not
residents of areas that were included in the Anfal operations." (emphasis
added)
40 Middle East Watch interview, Dohuk, June 10, 1992. In the course of a
dozen interviews with Christians, Yezidis and other survivors of
Baharka-Jezhnikan, Middle East Watch assembled a total of ninety-eight names of
people who had disappeared. This list consisted of sixty-four Christians
(twenty-five men, eighteen women, twelve children under the age of sixteen, and
nine of unknown age and sex), and thirty-four Yezidis (four men, nine women and
twenty-one children). Several of those who disappeared were infants of less than
one year; the oldest was a woman of eighty-five.

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