
Mosul celebrates minaret, mosque reopening soon
Shafaq News/ UNESCO held a special conference, on Wednesday, to celebrate the successful reconstruction of the iconic Al-Hadba Minaret, one of Mosul's most recognizable historical landmarks.
Speaking to Shafaq News, Yousif Al-Abd Rabo, Director of the Sunni Endowment (Waqf) in Nineveh, described the occasion as a tribute to the perseverance and dedication of those involved in the restoration. 'This achievement brings back a key part of Mosul's identity and heritage,' he said.
Al-Abd Rabo also noted that while the minaret's reconstruction is complete, work on the Al-Nuri Mosque and its annexes continues. 'The grand reopening of the mosque, including the restored minaret, is scheduled for mid-March, with a formal ceremony expected to be attended by Iraq's Prime Minister, a high-ranking UNESCO delegation, and key cultural and political figures.'
For its part, UNESCO reaffirmed its commitment to Mosul's reconstruction, emphasizing that the challenges faced due to war and destruction have not deterred efforts to restore the city's cultural and religious landmarks.
Restoring Mosul's Cultural and Religious Legacy
The destruction of Al-Nuri Mosque and Al-Hadba Minaret in 2017 was a defining moment in Mosul's battle against ISIS. The minaret, nicknamed 'The Hunchback' for its distinctive lean, had stood for over 800 years, serving as a symbol of the city's rich history.
Recognizing the importance of Mosul's cultural heritage, UNESCO launched the 'Revive the Spirit of Mosul' initiative in 2018. The program, developed in partnership with the United Arab Emirates, aims to rebuild historic landmarks, restore cultural life, and support education.
The restoration of Al-Hadba Minaret faced significant challenges, including the need to clear hidden explosives from the site and preserve 12th-century architectural elements discovered during excavations. Engineers ensured that the minaret retained its signature tilt—leaning 160 centimeters, just as it did in the 1960s, while reinforcing its foundation for long-term stability.
In addition to architectural restoration, UNESCO focused on revitalizing Mosul's cultural and social life. Backed by funding from the European Union, the organization has restored 124 heritage homes. The organization has rebuilt more than 400 classrooms across Nineveh Province, including Al-Ekhlas Primary School, which now features modern facilities and a library. Meanwhile, Mosul University has received new academic resources and a cinema department, expanding opportunities for students.

Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles


Iraqi News
6 hours ago
- Iraqi News
Palestinian child from Gaza who survived deadly Israeli strike heads to Italy
Rome – A 10-year-old Palestinian boy who survived an Israeli air strike in Gaza last month which killed his father and nine siblings was due to arrive in Italy Wednesday for treatment. Adam and his mother, paediatrician Alaa al-Najjar, were due to fly to Milan in northern Italy on Wednesday evening alongside his aunt and four cousins, Foreign Minister Antonio Tajani said. 'Adam will arrive in Milan and will be admitted to the Niguarda (hospital), because he has multiple fractures and he will be treated there,' Tajani told Rtl radio. A plane carrying Palestinians in need of medical care is scheduled to land at 7:30 pm (1730 GMT) at Milan's Linate airport, according to the foreign ministry. Adam had a hand amputated and suffered severe burns across his body following the strike on the family house in the city of Khan Yunis on May 23. His mother was at work when the bomb hit the house, killing nine of her children and injuring Adam and his father, doctor Hamdi al-Najjar, who died last week. Al-Najjar, who ran to the house to find her children charred beyond recognition, told Italy's Repubblica daily: 'I remember everything. Every detail, every minute, every scream.' 'But when I remember it's too painful, so I try to keep my mind focused entirely on Adam,' she said in an interview published Wednesday ahead of their arrival. Asked by his mother during the interview to describe his hopes, Adam said he wanted to 'live in a beautiful place'. 'A beautiful place is a place where there are no bombs. In a beautiful place the houses are not broken and I go to school,' he said, according to La Repubblica. 'Schools have desks, the kids study their lessons but then they go play in the courtyard and nobody dies. 'A beautiful place is where they operate on my arm and my arm works again. In a beautiful place my mother is not sad. They told me that Italy is a beautiful place.' Al-Najjar said she has packed the Koran, their documents and Adam's clothes. 'I am heartbroken. I am leaving behind everything that was important to me. My husband, my children, the hospital where I worked, my job, my patients,' she said. 'People are dying of hunger. If not of hunger, of bombs. We would just like to live in peace,' she told the daily. The October 7, 2023 Hamas attack that triggered the war resulted in the deaths of 1,219 people on the Israeli side, mostly civilians, according to an AFP tally of official figures. The health ministry in Hamas-run Gaza says at least 54,981 people, the majority civilians, have been killed in the territory since the start of the war. The UN considers these figures reliable.


Shafaq News
a day ago
- Shafaq News
The Abaya: How a dress code debate exposes Iraq's deeper fault lines
Shafaq News/ A recent administrative decision by the Baghdad Provincial Council, aiming to officially recognize the "Zaynabiyya Abaya" as an acceptable dress code within state institutions, has unexpectedly ignited a widespread and heated debate across Iraqi social media. What might, at first glance, appear to be a mundane local policy pronouncement, has swiftly escalated into a telling microcosm of Iraq's intricate struggles with identity, religious influence, individual freedoms, and the enduring shadow of political opportunism. Zaynabiyya Abaya: A Garment Steeped in Meaning The defining characteristics of the Zaynabiyya Abaya set it apart as one of the most conservative and encompassing forms of Islamic dress. Designed for ultimate modesty, it is notably loose-fitting and voluminous, intended to shroud the entire body. Its wide cut ensures that the wearer's figure and bodily contours remain completely concealed, a central tenet of its design. The vast majority of Zaynabiyya Abayas are black, a deliberate choice of color that serves to minimize visual distraction and avoid drawing undue attention to the wearer, thereby reinforcing the principle of modesty. Unlike many modern abayas that incorporate intricate embellishments, vibrant colors, or contemporary cuts, the Zaynabiyya Abaya is characteristically devoid of ostentatious decorations, elaborate embroidery, or flashy patterns. It is typically an open-front garment worn over regular clothes, with relatively narrow sleeve openings designed to prevent the arms from being exposed; this minimalist approach ensures that the garment itself does not become a source of attraction or adornment. At its essence, the Zaynabiyya Abaya is viewed by its adherents as the quintessential manifestation of Islamic dress principles, prioritizing chastity, humility, and the complete spiritual and physical veiling of the woman, serving as a tangible form of emulation of the revered women of the Prophet's household. While traditional abayas have been a staple of dress in Iraq and the Levant for centuries, the concept of the "Zaynabiyya Abaya" evolved to represent the pinnacle of modesty and traditional Islamic covering. It is not exclusively an Iraqi garment; its widespread adoption can be observed across many Muslim-majority nations, though its prominence varies. In countries like Iraq, Kuwait, the UAE, Yemen, Saudi Arabia, Afghanistan, Pakistan, Algeria, Egypt, parts of East Africa, Syria, and Turkiye, it is a commonly accepted, and often dominant, form of female dress. In other societies, such as Lebanon, parts of Central Africa, Malaysia, and Indonesia, it is more specifically worn by a significant segment of the population recognized for its religious commitment and piety. Baghdad's Provocative Resolution The Baghdad Provincial Council's recent vote on June 4, to officially sanction the Zaynabiyya Abaya as part of the formal dress code within the capital's state institutions was championed by Huda Jalil Al-Aboudah, who chairs the Environment Committee within the council and is affiliated with the politically influential Al-Hikma (Wisdom) Movement, led by Ammar al-Hakim. Al-Aboudah explicitly stated that the decision aims to "enhance respect, dignity, and modesty," particularly within examination halls. The announcement immediately triggered widespread confusion and, subsequently, a torrent of backlash. The initial public perception was that the Council was mandating the abaya for all women in official settings, including those who do not typically wear a headscarf (non-hijabis) or women belonging to other faiths. This misinterpretation, whether accidental or by design, ignited a fierce debate, forcing Al-Aboudah to issue a swift and defensive clarification. She categorically stated that the decision was not an imposition and did not apply to women who do not wear the hijab or individuals of other religious affiliations. Instead, she insisted it merely granted official recognition to the Zaynabiyya Abaya, thereby validating it as a formal dress option for women who choose to wear it, aligning it with their "identity and Islamic culture." Despite the clarification, Al-Aboudah's subsequent remarks only added fuel to the fire. She revealed her ambition to "submit a request to the Prime Minister, the Council of Ministers, and members of the House of Representatives to generalize the decision across all of Iraq, to preserve and protect the dignity of Iraqi women." This aspiration to expand a provincial decision nationwide further amplified concerns about the potential for future, more widespread impositions. Curiously, she also preemptively denied any electoral motivations, asserting she would not be participating in upcoming elections – a denial that, for many, only underscored the political nature of her initiative. It is crucial to emphasize that, unlike some other countries in the region, Iraq does not currently have a general, legally enforced hijab mandate. While wearing a headscarf or abaya is deeply ingrained in Iraqi culture and widely accepted, it remains, legally speaking, an individual choice. The Iraqi government does not impose it as a prerequisite for educational enrollment, employment, or participation in public life. This fundamental context makes the Council's decision, even with its subsequent clarifications, appear perplexing and, to some, an unnecessary intervention in personal freedoms. Legal Quagmire and the Chasm of Interpretation The legal validity and implications of the Baghdad Provincial Council's decision have exposed a significant schism among legal experts, reflecting broader ambiguities within Iraq's legal framework regarding religious and personal freedoms. Ali Al-Tamimi, a prominent legal expert, has voiced support for the decision from an administrative standpoint. He argues that the decision is "correct and without fault" because Islam is enshrined as the official religion of Iraq. From his perspective, the resolution aligns with the constitutional principle of freedom of dress, as it permits rather than mandates the wearing of the abaya during official duty. This, he asserts, implies that other women retain the freedom to wear different forms of attire. Al-Tamimi further bolsters his argument by referencing Article 11 of the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights, which generally allows individuals to choose their clothing, provided it does not violate public order (laws) or public morals (prevailing customs, values, and ideals). His interpretation leans on the idea that by formalizing an existing practice, the council is not restricting freedom but acknowledging a cultural and religious choice within a predominantly Muslim society. However, Mohammed Jumaa, another legal expert, offers a starkly contrasting view, dismissing the decision as "legally meaningless." Jumaa contends that there is no existing law that prescribes an official uniform for Baghdad province or any other Iraqi province. Furthermore, he emphasizes that there has never been any legal prohibition against wearing the abaya in any public or private sector setting across Iraq. He points out that numerous women already hold high-ranking governmental positions, such as deputy ministers or general directors, and perform their duties while wearing the Islamic abaya, which is undeniably "part of Iraqi culture." For Jumaa, the council's decision is redundant at best, potentially an overreach of authority, and serves no practical legal purpose, as the freedom to wear the abaya already existed without this decree. Political Maneuvering and Misplaced Priorities Beyond the legal debate, the timing and nature of the abaya decision have triggered deep skepticism among a significant segment of the Iraqi public, particularly students, activists, and those weary of political posturing. Athraa Hazem, a university student in Baghdad, who herself wears the abaya daily, attests that its wear is widely accepted on campus and that she has never faced harassment due to it. Yet, she observes that the sudden "timing of this decision and the surge of interest from officials coincide with elections, therefore it might carry a clear political agenda." This sentiment is echoed by Alia Al-Hathal, a prominent lawyer and activist, who states unequivocally that "there is no objection to the abaya decision," as it's already a common sight in markets, universities, and government offices. However, she asserts that "some are exploiting this decision due to the proximity of elections." Al-Hathal's critique extends beyond mere timing to question the fundamental priorities of the Baghdad Provincial Council, particularly the role of Al-Aboudah, the head of the Environment Committee. Al-Hathal powerfully argues that a committee tasked with environmental oversight should be focused on the urgent, visible, and life-threatening crises plaguing Baghdad: rampant waste accumulation, severe water pollution in the Tigris River, and the resulting surge in diseases. For Al-Hathal, prioritizing a symbolic dress code, especially one that was not previously prohibited, is a glaring example of misplaced priorities and a thinly veiled attempt at "self-promotion" ahead of elections. She also draws a sharp parallel to past instances where lawmakers introduced controversial social legislation (such as personal status laws) that critics viewed as electoral ploys, suggesting that Al-Aboudah might be attempting to replicate such a strategy. Furthermore, Al-Hathal raises serious allegations about the initial intent behind the resolution, claiming that the decision's original wording or underlying aim might have been to mandate or impose the abaya. According to her, it was only after the fierce public backlash that Al-Aboudah "changed the concept," clarifying that it was merely about "not preventing" those who choose to wear the abaya. Al-Hathal dismisses this clarification as "unconvincing," given that no such prohibition ever existed in the first place, citing examples of abaya-wearing women freely attending universities and even appearing in graduation photos. Human Rights, Modesty, and Progress The most profound and unyielding opposition to the Baghdad Council's decision comes from human rights activists who view it as a fundamental assault on individual liberties and a dangerous regression for women's rights in Iraq. Lina Ali, a prominent activist, offers a scathing condemnation, asserting that the "abaya decision is oppressive and has no connection to human rights, especially for women." She goes as far as to state, "We have not seen such decisions even in the era of ignorance (Jahiliyyah)," drawing a provocative parallel to pre-Islamic tribal societies. Her critique stems from a belief that while societies evolve and human progress is constant, there persists a harmful tendency to view women as mere "commodities" whose attire can be controlled without legitimate justification, despite the absence of religious or customary compulsion. Ali contends that such decisions inherently create an "atmosphere of oppression and self-flagellation" for women, fostering an unhealthy and regressive environment. She fundamentally challenges the notion that this decision is about "modesty," arguing that true modesty "is not compulsory" and cannot be legislated through clothing. Instead, she passionately defines modesty as an inherent quality of character, encompassing the "modesty of the tongue, mind, logic, and morals." In a powerful concluding statement, Ali emphasizes the urgent need for Iraqi officials to shift their focus from superficial debates to the pressing realities confronting the nation. She implores them to instead "issue decisions that uplift the country's deteriorating reality and protect its wealth from theft," arguing that these are far more critical than "occupying the public with women's attire."


Shafaq News
4 days ago
- Shafaq News
Between exile and memory: Arab refugees mark Eid with silent longing
Shafaq News/ On Eid mornings, before the scent of coffee drifts through the air, another fragrance arrives first—memory. For millions of displaced Arabs, this festive season is no longer a celebration, but a quiet reckoning with loss. In cities like Baghdad, Beirut, and Amman, where thousands from Yemen, Syria, and Palestine have sought shelter, Eid has become a bittersweet ritual, marked less by joy than by longing. Baghdad: A Yemeni Eid with No Knock at the Door In a modest Baghdad neighborhood, 24-year-old Amal Abdullah prepares for her seventh Eid in exile. She left Sanaa with her family, fleeing a war that swallowed her childhood streets. 'My first Eid in Baghdad was like waking up in a stranger's house,' she told Shafaq News. 'I walked around hoping to feel that spirit we had back home—decorating with my siblings, baking maamoul, hearing the neighbors laugh—but here, everything is quiet. Too quiet.' Though she acknowledges Iraq's relative safety, Amal says the absence of community rituals leaves a painful void. 'No one knocks on our door in the morning. No one offers sweets. Even the mosques feel muted; we don't hear the Eid takbeerat like we did in Sanaa. My children are growing up with this silence. That hurts the most.' Amal tries to recreate fragments of home by cooking Yemeni dishes and visiting fellow refugees. 'But the joy,' she sighs, 'is always incomplete. A happiness laced with sorrow.' Beirut: A Syrian Eid Behind Closed Curtains In the outskirts of Beirut, Khaled al-Homsi, a 39-year-old refugee from Damascus, recalls Eid mornings in Syria as a sensory mosaic. 'The streets were alive. The smell of fresh bread, the buzz in the markets, the kids running around in new clothes,' he said. 'Now, it's just us and four walls. No relatives, no visits, no laughter.' His children's questions pierce him the most: 'Why don't we have guests like the neighbors? Why can't we go see grandma?' 'I don't have answers,' he said. 'Sometimes I lie. I say it's just for now, that we'll return soon.' Despite the crowds of Beirut, Khaled feels isolated. 'We're surrounded by people, but we live as ghosts. We can't work freely, we barely go out. I spend Eid trying not to fall apart.' Amman: A Palestinian Eid Through a Glass Pane In a neighborhood of Amman, Abu Muhammad al-Najjar, a 52-year-old refugee from Gaza, likens Eid in exile to watching a former life through a train window. 'In Gaza, Eid began the night before. We cleaned the streets, baked sweets, wrapped presents. Now I wake up, pray, give my children their eidiyyah (money), then check my phone to make sure no one I love has died under the bombs.' What haunts him most is the feeling of futility. 'We laugh so our kids don't cry. We dress nicely so the neighbors won't see our despair. But inside, we're crushed. We have no country to return to, no clarity in this life here.' Still, he clings to hope. 'Each time I hear the takbeer at dawn, I imagine myself walking the alleys of Gaza again. That dream is all I have left.' One Pain, Many Dialects Ruba al-Saqqa, a social worker who supports refugees across the Arab world, told Shafaq News that Eid often intensifies psychological distress among the displaced. 'Festivals reignite memories of everything lost—homes, family rituals, a sense of belonging. That's why we see spikes in anxiety and depression during these times,' she explained. Regardless of their backgrounds, Ruba finds a common thread: 'Different accents, same ache. Every displaced person I meet feels like they're living half a holiday, caught between a homeland that's gone and a present that doesn't embrace them.' In their final remarks, each refugee shared the same wish—not wealth, not comfort, but home. 'I just want one Eid in Damascus,' Khaled whispered. 'To kiss my mother's hand again, to hand out eidiyyah to my siblings like we used to.' Amal echoed him from Baghdad: 'Every year, on the first day of Eid, I ask God for one thing: to celebrate in Yemen again. On my soil. With my people. Like I did when I was a child.'