ShafaqNews/ A decision intended to pay tribute to the Feyli Kurds has insteaddeepened longstanding wounds. Iraqi Prime Minister Mohammed Shia Al-Sudani’srecent move to designate April 2 as Feyli Martyrs’ Day has drawn sharpcriticism from within the community, where many view the date as overlookingthe true turning point of their collective tragedy.
Forsurvivors and descendants of the victims, April 4, when Saddam Hussein’s regimeissued the infamous Resolution 666, is the moment seared into memory. What wasintended as an act of recognition now risks being perceived as yet anotherdistortion of Feyli history, compounding the very marginalization it sought toredress.
HistoryMisremembered?
Fordecades, Iraq’s Ba'athist regime framed its mass expulsion of the Feyli Kurdsas a national security measure, accusing the community of posing a threat duringwartime. But behind this official narrative lies a far more disturbing reality.Historians, survivors, and scholars have since revealed a calculated effort touproot a politically active and economically influential minority, one whosevery presence challenged the regime’s vision of control and conformity.
TheFeyli Kurds, a Shiite Kurdish group rooted in Baghdad, Diyala, al-Wasit, andthe borderlands near Iran, endured one of the most ruthless episodes of forceddisplacement under Saddam Hussein. Over 200,000 were stripped of their Iraqicitizenship in the 1980s. Thousands were executed. Entire families weredeported to Iran, rendered stateless, voiceless, and invisible.
Thiswas no spontaneous act of war-era paranoia. The repression was systematic, brutal,and multifaceted. Beyond the physical violence, the regime weaponized legalinstruments and humanitarian frameworks to deepen the community’s isolation.One such mechanism was United Nations Security Council Resolution 666, adoptedin 1990 to allow humanitarian exemptions under sanctions. Intended to easesuffering, it was instead used by Iraqi authorities to justify withholding aidand tightening restrictions on communities already under siege, Feylis amongthem.
Butlong before international sanctions came into effect, the machinery ofexclusion was already humming. The blueprint for erasure had been drawn yearsearlier.
Historianswidely agree that the state’s justification was little more than politicaltheatre. The regime’s real anxieties lay not in the threat of foreignallegiance, but in the rise of internal influence.
“Thecharges of betrayal and lack of loyalty to Iraq were never confirmed by anylegal body,” reflected Fareedoon Karim al-Arkwazi, former director of the FeyliCultural Center for Research and Studies.“Feyli youth were serving in every branch of the Iraqi army. Many gavetheir lives in national and pan-Arab battles,” he added.
Arkwazibelieved these accusations were a smokescreen. What unsettled the regime wasnot disloyalty, but prominence. As Feyli Kurds expanded their role in business,politics, and civic life, they grew too powerful to control and too visible toignore. Rather than integrate this rising class, the state unleashed a campaignof dispossession.
Thecruelty was not uniform, it was chaotic. Deportations tore through householdswith little warning or explanation. Some families were expelled in full. Otherswere split apart, sons detained, fathers disappeared, mothers and children leftbehind in confusion and fear.
Asthe regime repeated its narrative of national defense, scholars were uncoveringa very different logic, one rooted in internal suppression rather than externalthreat.
“TheFeylis were major players in Iraq’s economy,” explained Dr. Issam Kazem al-Feyli,a professor of political history. “They used their financial strength tosupport the Kurdish liberation movement in Iraqi Kurdistan. That made them athreat in the eyes of the regime.”
Foral-Feyli, the tragedy was not only in the scale of violence, but in theparanoia that fueled it. “This was one of the greatest humanitarian tragediesin the world,” he observed.
Decades-oldarchival documents lend weight to this argument. As early as 1965, staterecords documented the Feyli Kurds' critical presence in Iraq’s industrial andcommercial sectors. They were not marginal actors; they were central to thenation’s economic engine.
“Theyweren’t just contributors,” al-Feyli added. “They were foundational. Theirsuccess in business and civic life made them a rising force, one the regimecouldn’t control, and wouldn’t tolerate.”
The4th Matters Most
Forthe Feyli community, remembrance is not a ceremonial gesture. Instead, it is ademand of justice. While April 2nd has been widely promoted as the day to honortheir suffering, many Feylis point to a different date; it is April 4, 1980.
Thestory does not begin on April 4, however. In the first days of that month,Feyli Kurds were already being harassed, detained, and targeted. Yet it wasApril 4 that marked a shift from scattered repression to an organized campaign.
Tareqal-Mandalawi, Advisor to the Prime Minister on Feyli Kurd Affairs, considersApril 4th as the real turning point. “This protest was the spark,” he recalled,referring to the sequence of events that led to the crackdown. “It ignited afar-reaching and devastating campaign against the Feyli community.”
The“spark” he mentioned was the tragic death of Samir Ghulam, a young studentkilled during a protest on April 1st. His martyrdom sent shockwaves through thecommunity and became a rallying cry for resistance.
Butit also provoked a swift and brutal response from the regime, which movedquickly to arrest scores of Feyli students, intellectuals, and activists. Formany families, this moment marked the beginning of their darkest chapter.
AsIraq continues to confront the legacy of past atrocities, state institutionshave attempted to formalize a national day of remembrance. In recent years,April 2nd has been advanced by some officials as the symbolic date tocommemorate Feyli's suffering. But this designation has drawn criticism from withinthe community.
“It’snot just a matter of symbolism,” explained Haider Saeed, a researcherspecializing in genocide studies. “April 2nd was the ignition, but April 4thwas the architecture of the crime. It was the moment the regime gave itselflegal cover to annihilate an entire identity.”
Thisdistinction is not an academic one. For Feylis, it is devastating how theirstory is told. As the Iraqi government seeks to make amends and build a moreinclusive national memory, Feyli Kurds remain adamant that justice cannot beselective. It must begin by naming the right day. And for them, that day isApril 4.
Struggle2.0
In2010, the Supreme Iraqi Criminal Tribunal recognized the campaign against theFeylis as genocide, citing mass executions, torture, and forced displacement.Iraq’s Ministry of Martyrs estimates that more than 60,000 Feyli Kurds wereexecuted during the 1980s. Thousands remain missing.
Despitethis recognition, many feel the state has failed to deliver justice or evenpreserve the historical truth. The tribunal’s verdict has not translated intomeaningful reparations or reforms.
Witha population exceeding three million across Iraq and the Kurdistan Region, theFeylis have historically participated in Iraq’s political landscape. Yet today,they are still underrepresented in government and remain entangled in legal andbureaucratic obstacles.
AliAkbar, a leading Feyli activist, pointed to the lack of genuine representation.“They’ve used our suffering for personal or party gains,” he explained,criticizing how a few individuals, some not even Feyli, have secured positionswithout advancing the community’s interests.
Theproblem goes beyond appointments. Despite their presence across the country,Feylis currently hold just one quota seat in Iraq’s parliament.
JudgeMunir Haddad, Secretary-General of the Feyli National Movement, called thecurrent arrangement “a major injustice.” Others argue that symbolic gestureshave replaced meaningful reform. Maher Rashid al-Feyli, head of the FeyliFront, noted, “There has been little tangible progress. Ministries continue tostall on implementing decisions related to restitution.”
FormerMP Mazen al-Feyli echoed the concern, stating, “We are spread across Iraq, yetour political visibility remains minimal.”
Muchof the community’s exclusion stems from unresolved legal remnants of Resolution666. Though no longer enforced, the resolution was never formally repealed.“This legal vacuum is dangerous,” warned constitutional expert Hishamal-Hashimi. “Its absence from the legal record means the crime continues toecho through policy.”
Meanwhile,many deported Feylis still struggle to reclaim their Iraqi identity due tomissing records in the 1957 census. “Most of them are still considered Iranianor foreign in Iraq,” Akbar explained. This classification affects access toproperty, employment, and public services.
Similarly,the fate of more than 22,000 Feylis who were forcibly disappeared during the1980s remains unknown. Not a single body has been recovered. Although laws existto compensate the victims’ families, Akbar described the process as “abureaucratic maze” that discourages many from filing claims.
Effortsto locate mass graves have also stalled. Akbar criticized the government forfailing to interrogate detained Ba'athist officials about burial sites andpointed to the lack of proper equipment at the Mass Graves Directorate. “Theydon’t have advanced DNA equipment,” he said. “And the government isn’tproviding the necessary support.”
Withlittle progress at home, activists have turned to both national andinternational legal avenues. Akbar and a team of campaigners filed a case withIraq’s Supreme Judicial Council and submitted another to the InternationalCourt of Justice in The Hague. “Our goal is to push the government to uncoverthe mass graves, recognize the scope of the crime, and handle this issue withthe seriousness it deserves,” he said.
Forthousands, justice remains elusive. Their documents are missing, theirrelatives are unaccounted for, and their political voice is diminished. “We’renot asking for favors,” Akbar stressed. “We’re asking for the truth, forclosure, and for our rights as Iraqi citizens.”
Demandsfor Action
Asceremonies unfolded on April 2 across Baghdad, Diyala, and al-Khanaqin, the moodwas a mix of reverence and frustration. Families gathered with photographs ofthe disappeared, reciting names in soft, mournful succession. Yet for many, theevent only reinforced a deeper struggle, one not just for remembrance, but forhistorical clarity and justice.
ZahraKarim, an activist whose father vanished in 1980, addressed the crowd withquiet force. “Recognition isn’t about picking a date, it’s about naming thecrime, acknowledging the pain, and ensuring we are never erased again,” sheconfirmed.
Herwords encapsulate the broader dilemma. For the Feyli Kurds, this isn’t aboutsymbolic gestures. It’s about whether Iraq is truly ready to confront one ofits darkest legacies with honesty and resolve.
Thecall for justice has resonated beyond the Feyli community. Senior Kurdishleaders voiced solidarity, framing the genocide as part of a wider campaign toerase Kurdish identity.
Kurdishleader Masoud Barzani wrote on social media, “The Feylis are part ofKurdistan’s soul.” Similarly, Kurdistan Region President Nechirvan Barzaniechoed this view, calling on Baghdad to act. “We reaffirm our support for ourFeyli brothers and sisters as they fight for truth and dignity,” he declared.“We urge Baghdad to restore citizenship, return confiscated property, and makeoverdue reparations.”