Written by: Mustafa Al-Karkhi
Since my childhood, I heard from those around me, family and school, that dialogue holds the solution to all of life’s problems. Year after year, I grew up to find many issues in my country Iraq, the most challenging of which is the lack of understanding of others, which seemed like a ghost haunting us in the streets and alleys, accompanied by the devastation of external wars and killings based on religion and identity.
In Iraq, the land of the two rivers or Mesopotamia, where more than one sect, religion, and denomination has lived for centuries, I resided. Amid customs, traditions, and norms that govern the city, between Karkh and Rusafa lies another Iraq.
Why between Karkh and Rusafa?
Baghdad, according to the geographical division of Iraq for ages, is the capital of knowledge, love, and peace. Between Karkh and Rusafa, notable figures in religion, science, peace, poetry, and arts were born and buried. The love and brotherhood between those who lived in Karkh or Rusafa, and the waters of the Tigris and its bridges connecting the two banks have witnessed those stories that were nourished by it. Time itself returned to bring the people of the two areas back to that story, with the Tigris River witnessing it once again.
Another Iraq…
Yes, it is the Iraq of religions, sects, and denominations, of scholars, artists, writers, and poets. It is the land between the two rivers, from which many have quenched their thirst and offered much to the world. It is the land of peace, the land of dialogue for the sake of peace. In dialogue, we remain and rise. When I came to participate in the dialogue camp organized by the “Masarat” Foundation, I thought and researched Iraq’s history, and I found what I mentioned earlier. A grand description of the generosity of the Iraqi people and their uniqueness with several qualities… Therefore, I decided to participate to learn about the cultures of Iraq and its people up close, and the days I witnessed were beyond what could be written in an article or book; they require a direct life with every individual in this homeland.
I met a group of young people from different religions and sects, and the Iraqi dialect was the dominant language in our discussions; we did not use any other language for dialogue. What united us was our national identity as the main identity, while our sub-identities of religion, ethnicity, sect, and color followed. We are all Iraqis.
Four Days in a Camp
We got to know a miniature Iraq that brought together prominent religious scholars from the cities of Kadhimiyah and Adhamiya, along with churches and colleges of science. But it didn’t stop there; we wandered through both the past and present of Iraq in the streets and alleys of old and new Baghdad. We talked about a miniature Iraq and how it would be in the future, and what our role is in conveying and preserving this small image to our families, friends, and future generations. The Baghdad journey ended in one of the Baghdad houses, and we concluded as they say: “bread and salt.”
Iraq does not belong to me; it belongs to everyone who lives in it or belongs to it. Let us engage in dialogue and teach our children to accept others and extend a helping hand, as they are brothers in this homeland, not enemies merely due to differences in religion, sect, ethnicity, or color. Let us live in love, dialogue, and peace.
