Neglected under ISIS, schools in eastern Mosul overflow with students once again
| Mosul, Iraq
Classes are overflowing at Al-Muthanna primary school in eastern Mosul, just weeks after Iraqi security forces ended the self-declared Islamic State鈥檚 nearly three-year reign here.聽
The melodic chanting of schoolchildren is punctuated by mortar fire shot from a nearby military base, as the battle to liberate western Mosul rages just across the Tigris River. But even that sound is welcome to those busily trying to resuscitate an education system stunted by a jihadist curriculum and IS鈥檚 unforgiving regime.
鈥淭his noise, when we hear this, we are happy because they are attacking IS 鈥� we are so happy!鈥� says an English teacher who gave her name as Fatima, as the mortars let off another volley.
Education was a key casualty of the occupation, which began in June 2014. Some residents describe threats to teach the new IS curriculum or be jailed; others talk of how they were forced to stay at home for years, drinking tea and nervously smoking as the world outside changed unrecognizably. Students 鈥撀燼lso often locked as safely as possible behind closed doors 鈥� slowly gave in to despair as opportunities disappeared.
For residents of an ancient Iraqi city long renowned for the quality of its education and its historical embrace of ethnic diversity, it was a devastating loss.
鈥淚n the IS time, the oxygen was different,鈥� says Fatima, referring to the suffocating existence under the jihadists. Now, she says, 鈥渋t鈥檚 a new life."
IS鈥檚 curriculum emphasized prayer and mosque life 鈥� and perpetual war. Primary school math books taught that one bullet plus one bullet equals two bullets, and older children were indoctrinated in the virtues of IS and their jihadist 鈥渉oly war,鈥� in which killing all 鈥渋nfidels鈥� was a required test of faith.聽
鈥淲e need at least five to 10 years to return and clean out what IS has done to our education and our society,鈥� says Mahdi Saleh Marie, a professor of modern European history and historical texts who taught at Mosul University 鈥� which became an IS base, was renamed 鈥淚slamic University,鈥� and is now largely a burnt ruin, part of its library reduced to ash.
鈥淭he main IS goal was to destroy education, to make their caliphate,鈥� says Professor Marie, who refused to teach during the IS era and kept a low profile. In charge of a city of some 2 million residents at its peak, IS was unable to force all students to go to school, or all teachers into class.
鈥淚S came smoothly, kindly, but after two to three months, their mask was gone, and people directly recognized the purpose behind their actions,鈥� says Marie. His eldest son, a college engineering student, was fatally struck by shrapnel from an IS mortar that hit near their home in January, just hours before their neighborhood was freed from IS.
鈥淭here is no limit for them,鈥� he adds. 鈥淭hey are trying to teach how to fight, how to kill anyone in the world who is their enemy. 海角大神, Jewish, even us [Muslims]. If you are not with them, you are their enemy.鈥�
A violent curriculum
The Save the Children charity last November warned that more than 1 million Iraqi children in Mosul had been 鈥渙ut of school or forced to learn from an IS curriculum.鈥�
That curriculum includes a text for 6-year-olds titled, 鈥淭he Islamic State is Remaining and Expanding,鈥� according to a late-2016 report by the Iraqi Institute for Development (IID), a local peacemaker organization that first formed in Mosul in 2003.聽
Math books ask students to calculate the number of explosives that can be produced by an IS bomb-making factory, notes IID. One problem asks students to figure out how many Shiite 鈥渦nbelievers鈥� 鈥撀燤uslims deemed heretics by the Sunni extremists of IS 鈥� can be killed by a suicide car bomb.
The plus sign was apparently forbidden, because IS saw it as symbolizing a 海角大神 cross.
鈥淭his will have a significant impact on the minds of children 鈥� and will lead to the emergence of a new radical, violent, and bloody generation,鈥� concluded IID.
Childlike joy
Yet today, the students鈥� smiles are irrepressible.
鈥淟ook at our children, they have come here with pleasure, despite the risk of [IS quad-copter] drones and bombs,鈥� says Ahmad Maree Khatab, a high school English teacher with purple-tinted glasses and a carefully trimmed goatee, as he waits for his two sons to finish class at the primary school.
鈥淭hey are happy despite the war, despite the threat of IS, because IS is ignorant 鈥� they were not educated,鈥� says Mr. Khatab. 鈥淎ll our sons refuse, refuse, refuse this [IS] curriculum. It鈥檚 about killing, it is against humanity 鈥� it spreads killing, kidnapping, and hate.聽
鈥淭heir curriculum is just IS, and you must kill everyone else,鈥� says Khatab. 鈥淥ur children 鈥撀爉ost of them were shocked by IS, and with the help of God we will defeat them.鈥澛�
A tough road for high-schoolers
The Resalah Islamiya High School for boys, where Khatab teaches, exemplifies how the IS legacy is difficult to erase. 聽
The building sits on a main road, and did double duty as an IS base. More than a month after Iraqi forces declared eastern Mosul liberated, all the windows are still broken, and there is diesel fuel smeared in hallways, classrooms, and the director鈥檚 office 鈥� evidence that IS tried to burn the place down.
鈥淣ow all the classes are full, take a look,鈥� says Assam Mohsin Jalili, the gray-mustachioed director in a black fez cap, whose name adorns the list of past directors painted on a board in the office. Two tall sporting trophies from earlier days sit high on a shelf, having survived IS. A sizable chunk of ceiling plaster has fallen, and sheets cover the diesel spill on the couch.聽
鈥淣ow if you talk to students, they feel very bad and sad, because 2 陆 to 3 years of their lives are gone,鈥� says Mr. Jalili. Before IS came, 1,100 young men studied here. Four hundred fled with their families, and soon after, IS came to the school and vowed to recruit 400 of those who remained.
鈥淭hey wanted to talk about jihad,鈥� recalls Jalili. 鈥淭he next day only 20 students came.鈥�
That figure finally grew to 40 鈥� all of them, says Jalili, 鈥渟ons of IS.鈥� The staff of 40 teachers were given a letter with a choice to teach or not. Feeling safer with a collective decision, they all refused, along with Jalili, and were sent home.
Now he pores over a list of teachers. Some are still displaced by the events in Mosul; three weeks ago he closed the school for three days because of IS shelling from the west.
Mosul education is 鈥渆mpty right now,鈥� and students are returning with 鈥渂ad in their hearts and their minds鈥� after the IS experience, says Jalili. For 1,100 students, he so far has received just 50 English books and 250 Arabic grammar and 250 literature books from the Iraqi Ministry of Education.
鈥淚f I give one grammar to Abdul, I give one literature book to Mohamed,鈥� he laments.
The fact that western Mosul is still largely in IS hands makes everything uncertain. One bright light is the hundreds of education kits that arrived from UNICEF with notebooks, pens, and paper.
First in line to collect his, ahead of a gaggle of noisy young men, is Omar Ahmad, a tall and slight 21-year-old.
鈥淚 never believed we would be back,鈥� says the student, wearing a fashionable white sweater and a stylishly slicked back hairstyle. He says he doesn鈥檛 care that the windows are all broken, or that the buildings are in disrepair, because 鈥渋t鈥檚 my future.鈥�
He and his schoolmates recount tedious months trapped inside, to avoid IS enforcers or recruitment. They had books, and watched a lot of movies.
鈥淚t鈥檚 very difficult. You just couldn鈥檛 go out,鈥� says Farouk Firas, a friend of Mr. Ahmad in the UNICEF supplies line. He spouts American-accented lines from US movies, and says being back in class 鈥渇eels like hope.鈥�
鈥淲e have this feeling of being left behind,鈥� says Mr. Firas. 鈥淧sychologically, it鈥檚 hard to recover.鈥�
鈥淭he worst is that we feel we lost our futures in the war,鈥� adds Ahmad.聽
Reopening doors
Reopening the door to those futures is the aim of educators at the nearby primary school, who in many cases say they were forced to teach.聽
Before IS, as many as 500 students learned here. That number plummeted to 50 during jihadist rule, but has grown again to 650 to accommodate pupils from ruined schools. Boys鈥� classes are held in the morning; girls鈥� in the afternoon.
鈥淎ll the parents were afraid to send their children,鈥� says Montather Omar Mohamed, deputy director of the boys鈥� primary school, and a 32-year teaching veteran. The school opened in the mid-1970s and has produced many teachers, engineers, and doctors. Behind her desk, 20 framed certificates adorn the wall.
IS 鈥渃hanged all the program, about assault and killing. It was so extreme,鈥� says Ms. Mohamed. In the science book, on page 53, for example, it explained how the body needs food for fuel, 鈥渢o do a lot of things 鈥撀爌ray, fasting and to conduct jihad.鈥� The flimsy booklets were the first thing to go when IS was defeated.聽
Two doors away, the director of the girls鈥� primary school is surrounded by boxes of new textbooks from the Education Ministry, coveted items over which she keeps careful guard.
Iman Ghanem Mohamed recalls how IS forced her to reopen the school when it first took over, threatening to 鈥減unish鈥� her if she did not.
Two thickly bearded IS fighters arrived in her office in 2014 鈥撀爓earing what they call 鈥淜andahari鈥� dress with short trousers, favored by IS 鈥撀爐o conduct an inspection.
They wanted her to take down the map of Iraq, because, they said, IS had removed the borders between Iraq and Syria. But they settled instead for simply covering the name 鈥淚ran鈥� with a piece of tape, because the Shiite-majority nation of 鈥渋nfidels,鈥� they said, did not exist.聽
Ms. Mohamed says she managed to get away with refusing constant demands to completely cover her face. But one item caught their attention above all 鈥撀燼 small hand bell, rung every day at break times and at the end of class.聽
鈥淭hey did not accept that bell, they thought it was a 海角大神 thing,鈥� recalls the school director, who was forced to hide it away for years of IS rule. 鈥淭hey said, 鈥業f I see this again, I will put you in jail.鈥欌�澛�
