Analysis: Why Are Christians Still Fleeing Iraq and the Kurdistan Region?
8/26/20269 min read
I was invited by the Iraq-based think tank ‘Sbey Research Center’ to analyse the issue of the mass emigration of Christians from Iraq, particularly the Assyrian-Chaldean-Syriac community, both within federal Iraq and in the autonomous region of Kurdistan. My full analysis has been published as part of the “ThinkBites” series in the form of a video available on Facebook, Instagram, LinkedIn, YouTube and the think tank’s website. You can read the transcript of the video below.
The question I was asked was why Christians in Iraq have emigrated and continue to do so in large numbers. This question requires an understanding of the factors driving emigration, the barriers to return, and the long-term consequences of this phenomenon. I will, of course, also discuss what our NGO, The Return / Daarta / Al Auda, is doing to enable members of the diaspora to return to their country of origin.
It is important to understand, first of all, that Christians in Iraq are not merely a religious group, but a distinct ethnic group, since the vast majority are neither Arab nor Kurdish. This is beyond dispute, as evidenced by the linguistic continuity spanning several millennia of this nation, which speaks Neo-Aramaic – a language inherited from the Assyrian and Babylonian peoples and, more broadly, from the pre-Christian peoples of Mesopotamia. They were one of the first groups to convert to Christianity as early as the first century AD. Our endonym is clear: we call ourselves ‘Suraye’, but under the influence of the empires that have ruled the Middle East, we have often been reduced to a mere religious affiliation or ‘millet’ within the Muslim world. We may therefore be referred to by the terms Assyrians, Chaldeans, Syriacs or Arameans: all these terms correspond to nuances within the same nation and refer more or less to the same ethnic group. To these, we must of course add the small, equally ancient Armenian community in Iraq, whose fate is often quite similar.
Let’s take a look at the figures for our population – and this is important because they are dramatic. Before 2003, it is estimated that there were over a million Christians in Iraq. Since the waves of emigration, particularly those of the 2000s and 2014, there are now only around 130,000 of us left in the country, whilst the Iraqi population has doubled. This figure is corroborated by the ongoing analysis provided by the Shlama Foundation, and above all by the latest Iraqi census of 2024, although these figures were shared with me on an unofficial basis.
The reasons for emigration are numerous, have varied according to the period and the local context within Iraq, and include factors common to all Iraqi communities as well as factors specific to the Assyrian-Chaldean-Syriac community.
Among the reasons for contemporary emigration, which are shared with the rest of the Iraqi population, we can of course first mention the dictatorship of the last century, which notably drove many Assyrian communists and nationalists into exile due to the risks they faced. Many Assyrian-Chaldeans were, in fact, Peshmerga fighters who battled the Ba’athist regime for decades – a fact that is not exclusive to the Kurds. Many others fled the Iran-Iraq War, just as many Muslims did.
More recently, it was obviously the chaos caused by the 2003 war that drove the majority of our community into exile. The reasons, of course, were the failed state, which was no longer able to provide for the basic needs, stability or security of the population. Very quickly, jihadist movements – or Islamist groups more broadly – began to target Christians in particular, as ‘infidels’, especially in Baghdad and Mosul. Many people were brutally murdered, including priests and bishops, but also many civilians like alcohol vendors in Baghdad. A lot of churches were targeted, notably the Seydat Al Najat Cathedral in Baghdad in 2010, where more than 60 people were massacred.
Each of these incidents has driven hundreds of families to leave the country rather than wait to become the next victims. This situation is even more traumatic because the perpetrators of these acts are supposed to be citizens of the same country; they are not nationals of an enemy country with which we are at war. Their neighbours have literally turned into their murderers.
The peak of this security threat was, of course, the arrival of ISIS in 2014. Christians in Nineveh, in the heart of their ancestral lands, were given three options: convert, leave, or die. Overnight, thousands were forced to abandon everything and found themselves in refugee camps within their own country, whilst their homes were occupied and then burnt down, for the sole reason of being Christian. This is a deep trauma, and unfortunately at least half of these displaced people have left the country and never returned to Mosul or the Nineveh Plain.
Beyond these dramatic episodes, emigration continues, both in federal Iraq and in the autonomous region of Kurdistan. Here too, certain reasons for emigration are common to the population as a whole. In Baghdad, Basra, Kirkuk and Mosul, it is corruption, difficulties in finding work and political instability that drive people to emigrate. Other factors more specific to Christians are also significant in these contexts: Islamic conservatism, which manifests itself, for example, in the ban on alcohol throughout the south of the country. This is far more significant than one might imagine: Christians thus find their freedoms restricted by the laws of a religion that is not their own, even whilst they are in their own country. They also continue to face systematic discrimination in certain sectors of the economy. Around Mosul, for example, Christian business owners are often required to pay additional bribes at checkpoints, which puts them at a commercial disadvantage compared with their non-Christian competitors.
The autonomous region of Kurdistan is a unique context that presents challenges different from those in the rest of Iraq. The security situation has been far better than in federal Iraq since 2003, with very few attacks, although the US presence in recent months has shown that the region can also be targeted. However, this security and political stability is not enough to prevent emigration, among both Kurds and Assyrian-Chaldeans. The common reasons are, of course, the wage crisis since 2014 and the freeze on recruitment in the civil service, difficulties in accessing essential services such as water and electricity, and the withdrawal of investment from public education and health services in favour of extremely expensive private institutions. Consequently, there are graduates – dentists or doctors – who are real assets to the region, yet who choose to emigrate because the government allows them neither to be employed in the public sector nor to practise in the private sector. Engineers graduate only to find their qualifications lead to no employment opportunities due to a lack of sufficient industry, for example in the IT sector. The brain drain is catastrophic and affects all communities. It is all the more so against a backdrop of nepotism and tribalism, which dictate social life in Kurdistan.
In the autonomous region, another factor is more specific to the Assyrian-Chaldeans: the general or systematic ‘Kurdification’ of local narratives, from education to foreign relations. The very definition of ‘Kurdistan’, which means ‘the land of the Kurds’, is implicitly exclusive, although officials are making efforts to be more inclusive in their communications. Yet a very large part of what is now the autonomous region of Kurdistan – notably the areas stretching from Erbil to the Turkish border via Duhok and Zakho – has for centuries been the cradle of the Assyrian-Chaldean community. Today, they are presented not only as part of the Kurdistan Region – which is an undeniable legal fact – but as part of Kurdish heritage. This is even evident in the discourse surrounding these ancient sites; the citadel of Erbil, for example, is largely ‘Kurdified’ in the rhetoric and initiatives surrounding it, even though it is only recently that the Turkmen, Jews and Assyrians have moved and given way to a more significant Kurdish presence.
Recently, an increasing amount of ultra-nationalist hate speech has emerged online, rejecting any Arab, Syrian or Assyrian presence in the region. Some even go so far as to call for attacks on Christian-owned businesses, as seen recently when false accusations were levelled at a café in Ankawa regarding the wearing of traditional clothing. Similarly, every year Islamist preachers call on people not to wish Christians a Merry Christmas or to celebrate the New Year, and are widely heeded by a section of the population. Others even openly supported the ideology of ISIS in 2014.
On a broader scale, all this builds on centuries of Christians being perceived as barely tolerated infidels who have regularly been the targets of attacks and massacres. The most recent of these date back barely 10 years, with the arrival of Daesh, of course, but this is merely the latest episode in a long series. Examples include the gradual expulsion of Christians from Akre or Amadiya over the centuries, more sporadic attacks and killings in Shaqlawa, the Simele Massacre in 1933, of course, but above all, the genocide of 1915. At that time, eastern Anatolia was overwhelmingly Christian, with large Armenian, Greek and Assyrian communities. Up to 3 million people were exterminated out of an Anatolian population of 13 million. The natural population growth of this group would have resulted in around 20 million Christians today.
We must therefore understand the impact of all this: the targeting of Christians has been constant, repeated and systematic, and is deeply ingrained in the collective memory of this population, which is now all the more vulnerable as it has become, through a series of massacres and forced exoduses, a tiny minority on its own territory.
These cumulative events – whether on a small scale or on a broader geographical or temporal scale – have led to a profound loss of confidence in the future. Many of those who continue to leave the country say they wish to do so by themselves rather than being forced to flee in the face of a threat that seems to recur every ten years.
All of this brings us to the question of this community’s return, which is not only legitimate but also desirable. Returning poses challenges that are, once again, general in nature and linked to any form of migration, but also specific to Iraq, Kurdistan, or the situation of Christians.
Generally speaking, returnees face difficulties similar to those of any migrant. These include readjusting to a society different from their own, key issues such as employment and housing, and language learning, amongst others. More specifically, both in federal Iraq and in the Iraqi Kurdistan region, there is security instability, a legitimate sense of discomfort linked to the lack of guarantees regarding essential needs such as water and electricity, and access to healthcare and education, which have declined significantly since 1991 and have not been improved in the public sector since 2003.
There are, of course, reasons specific to the Assyrian-Chaldean-Syriac community. Firstly, the original reasons for their migration are still partially present, such as security and political risks. Secondly, on a more practical level, a returnee from this community faces a society that does not speak their mother tongue, Neo-Aramaic, and must therefore make the additional effort of learning Arabic and Kurdish. On the other hand, many Iraqi Kurds and Arabs I know – and even non-Iraqis from these ethnic groups – find it much easier to integrate and find employment in a society whose language and religion they share. Even jobseekers and investors often have access to a tribal network, to ‘wastat’, which the Assyrian-Chaldeans do not benefit from, particularly because their community is mostly not tribal.
For returnees, it is also important to consider the fact that individual freedoms are far less guaranteed in both Iraq and Kurdistan, particularly freedom of expression, moral freedoms, and, more specifically, women’s freedoms, which are significantly more restricted than in the Western world.
The long-term consequences are dramatic for this community, but also for Iraq as a whole. This could result in a permanent historical loss: the disappearance of one of the world’s oldest Christian communities, as well as the disappearance of a Mesopotamian civilisation and language dating back thousands of years. Iraq would therefore lose part of its ethnic and religious diversity, its indigenous population, and, more practically, an often well-educated and skilled community that is a crucial asset to the country.
In response to this, we have set up an NGO called ‘The Return’, which aims to reverse migration trends by bringing back Assyrian-Chaldean-Syriac people from the diaspora. 90% of this community has been exiled in just a few decades, and their return should be a national priority. The Return is working on several fronts at the same time, all of which are complementary and essential to the movement’s success.
Firstly, we need to normalise the very idea of returning. Until now, migrants had never considered returning, largely due to the trauma they experienced and the circumstances surrounding their departure. Moreover, it is always difficult to return when one has built a whole new life in another country, particularly in the Western world which, despite its many challenges, at least offers a degree of stability and guarantees in terms of human rights and individual freedoms. This is why The Return communicates as widely as possible through its own media channels, but also via the mainstream and community press, both in Iraq and within the diaspora. We must show that life here is better than they imagine. We are witnessing the emergence of a new generation of children or grandchildren of immigrants, who are returning to their country with a fresh perspective, unburdened by the traumas of the past, and who have a deep desire to return or at least to reconnect with their roots.
At the same time, returning must be practically feasible. We provide case-by-case support to future and current returnees with all their needs, as far as possible: administrative matters, housing, employment, social reintegration and learning local languages. We have also produced a very comprehensive Guide covering these issues, which is available on our website.
Of course, all these efforts would be virtually in vain without a fundamental and far-reaching improvement in the political, economic and social situation in Iraq and the Kurdistan region. In this regard, part of our work involves developing a strategy to raise awareness among local and international policy-makers about this cause. We must therefore create an environment encouraging to the return of diaspora communities, and this work will obviously benefit not only those returning but also, and above all, those who have never left the country.
Returning home must not simply be a matter of rhetoric or an official stance; concrete action and investment are required, along with material and financial support for our initiative, and we wish to act as partners with the governments in Baghdad and Erbil to achieve this.