In 2003, an Iraqi engineer left California to re-flood wetlands Saddam had turned into desert; up to 60% of the ancient marshes later returned

Some people take a trip across oceans in pursuit of the American dream. Azzam Alwash crossed one to bring back to life a landscape that the world had already declared beyond saving. In 2003, this Iraqi geotechnical engineer left his comfortable California life behind to return to his hometown, not to rebuild bridges or skyscrapers, but to help turn things around in Iraq's Mesopotamian Marshes post-Saddam Hussein's reign.

At first glance, the mission sounded almost impossible. How do you restore a landscape erased by politics, war, and decades of engineered destruction? A California State University, Sacramento research paper, spearheaded by a student-professor duo who also worked with Alwash in the past, chronicles the need to restore and preserve the biodiversity and long-lasting cultural heritage of the marshes. The revival of Iraq's wetlands is as much a story of water as it is of memory, heritage, biodiversity, and a nation’s fractured relationship with its landscape.

Azzam Alwash’s success is a great example of ecological changeovers in history, where engineering sought to become a form of cultural resistance, not conquest. According to the Goldman Environmental Prize's 2022 article, it is estimated that 30%-60% of the ancient marshes have been reclaimed, depending on the season and climate.


A wetland older than history itself

Reeds, water buffaloes, migratory birds, and communities who lived on water thrived in southern Iraq for millennia. The Mesopotamian Marshes, fed by the Tigris and Euphrates in the past, covered an area of almost 5790 square miles, ranking amongst the largest inland wetlands in the world.

Smithsonian Magazine recounts how the marshes nurtured agriculture, wildlife, and the Marsh Arabs (Ma'dan), whose reed houses and canoe culture have survived for millennia and thus are closely linked to the Biblical Garden of Eden and the Fertile Crescent. This was more than simply an ecosystem. It was a repository of civilization teeming with life.

When water became a weapon

The destruction of the marshes was not a result of a random or chance event. The marshes were a haven for dissidents after the 1991 Gulf War and the 1999 Shiite revolt. In response, Saddam Hussein's regime redirected the Tigris and Euphrates with extensive drainage projects, and burnt, poisoned, and dried out the wetlands.

The California State University paper titled “Ending the Silence: Ecocide and Renewal in Iraq's Marshlands” characterizes the campaign as ‘ecocide,' or the destruction of an ecosystem intertwined with cultural erasure. Congressional testimony presented before the U.S. House Committee on International Relations stated that by the early 2000s, almost 90% of the marshes were gone and thousands of Marsh Arabs lost their homeland.

The engineer who came to the rescue

Azzam Alwash was well versed in that history. He was born in Iraq and had the opportunity to roam these waterways with his father, who was an irrigation engineer. Alwash left his homeland in 1978 and went on to build a successful career as a civil engineer in California.

After the fall of Saddam Hussein's regime in 2003, he decided to go back to his war-torn country that had nothing to offer him, from where he had come: an easy life in America. He jokingly recalled in a 2022 interview with the Goldman Environmental Prize, “I naively thought I’d be here for two, three years at most. Then I’d go back and enjoy my American life. 20 years later, I’m still here.” He continues to fight for the conservation of Iraq's water.

Sometimes nature only needs a door opened

The restoration plan was not developed around multi-billion-dollar mega projects. Rather, in 2004 Alwash established Nature Iraq, and set a simple rule: let the rivers flow as they used to flow. Communities breached embankments, reopened waterways, and let the seasonal floods take back the marshes. Engineers were monitoring water flow, as well as biodiversity, along with Iraqi ministries and international scientists.

Even experts were surprised by the results. The fish returned. Migratory birds returned via the old migratory routes. The reeds grew on barren ground. The water buffaloes came back. The families started to rebuild communities which they believed were lost. Over the last several years, studies have been conducted to determine the extent of marshes that have been restored, with seasonal drought and upstream water management still affecting the area.

Restoring more than an ecosystem

It wasn't just an ecological comeback. Wetlands naturally filter pollutants, moderate floods, store carbon, and support fisheries. They have also been helping to restore livelihoods, traditions, and cultural identity in Iraq, with marsh restoration serving as environmental justice, as well as habitat recovery.

Smithsonian Magazine notes that the reopening of water reawakened centuries-old connections between people and landscapes, and Nature Iraq shifted its focus to biodiversity, environmental education, and protecting the area through lobbying. The Ahwar of Southern Iraq was inscribed on the UNESCO World Heritage List in 2016, due to its special biodiversity and cultural values.

The comeback isn't finished yet

In nature, happy endings of an environmental tale are seldom ephemeral. The boosted demand for water, upstream dams, and climate change still pose a risk to Iraq's rehabilitated marshes. Water in the Middle East is no longer an environmental issue, but a survival, cooperation, and regional stability issue, as insisted by Azzam Alwash many times.

What he has done is a reminder that ecological restoration is not a one-off triumph. It is a process that needs to be continually maintained. Because sometimes rebuilding a nation begins not with roads or buildings, but by letting a river find its way home.