Iraq’s Southern Marshes Face Collapse as Salinity Crisis Deepens

ERBIL (Kurdistan24) - In the once-fertile marshlands of southern Iraq, a silent and devastating catastrophe is unfolding, as the lifeblood of the nation—the Tigris and Euphrates rivers—succumbs to a toxic cocktail of drought, pollution, and record-high salinity, leaving a trail of dead livestock, desiccated farmland, and displaced communities in its wake.

For farmers like Umm Ali, a widowed mother of three living in the Al-Mashab marshes of Basra province, the crisis is not an abstract environmental concern but a daily and heartbreaking reality. This season alone, she has watched in grief as dozens of her ducks and 15 of her chickens have perished, their bodies a stark and tragic testament to a water supply that has become so brackish it is now a poison.

"We used to drink, wash and cook with water from the river, but now it's hurting us," she told Agence France-Presse (AFP), her words a simple but powerful lament for a lost way of life.

The crisis in Basra is a microcosm of a much larger, national catastrophe, a slow-motion environmental collapse that is transforming the historic "Land of Two Rivers" into a thirsty and increasingly uninhabitable country.

The scale of the salinity crisis in southern Iraq is unprecedented in modern history. "We haven't seen such high levels of salinity in 89 years," Khaled Shamal, the spokesperson for Iraq's water ministry, told AFP, a stunning admission that underscores the severity of the current situation.

Last month, salinity levels recorded in central Basra province soared to a staggering 29,000 parts per million (ppm), a more than tenfold increase from the 2,600 ppm recorded just last year. To put this in perspective, the U.S. Geological Survey classifies freshwater as containing less than 1,000 ppm of dissolved salts, while the salinity of ocean water is around 35,000 ppm.

The water in Basra's rivers is now far closer to seawater than it is to freshwater, rendering it unfit for human consumption, deadly for livestock, and destructive for agriculture.

The primary cause of this dramatic increase in salinity is the catastrophic decline in the flow of freshwater from the Tigris and Euphrates rivers. As their water levels have plummeted to their lowest in decades, a phenomenon exacerbated by years of drought, low rainfall, and extensive damming by upstream neighbors, the powerful tidal push of saltwater from the Persian Gulf has been allowed to intrude further and further inland.

Hasan al-Khateeb, an expert from Iraq's University of Kufa, explained to AFP that the Shatt al-Arab waterway, where the two great rivers converge before spilling into the Gulf, is "failing to hold back the seawater from the Gulf." This saltwater intrusion is contaminating the very source of life for the entire region.

For the agricultural communities of southern Iraq, this has been a death sentence for their livelihoods. Farmer Zulaykha Hashem, 60, told AFP that the water has become so brackish this year that she is unable to irrigate her crops of pomegranate trees, figs, and berries, and can only wait and hope for the situation to improve.

For the nearly one-quarter of women in Basra and the surrounding provinces who, according to the United Nations, work in agriculture, this is a devastating economic blow. "We cannot even leave. Where would we go?" Hashem asked, her question highlighting the desperate trap in which so many farmers now find themselves.

This climate-induced crisis is fueling a new and growing wave of internal displacement across Iraq.

As the UN's International Organization for Migration (IOM) has warned, the increased water salinity is destroying entire groves of palm and citrus trees and laying waste to other vital crops. As of October of last year, the IOM had already documented some 170,000 people who had been displaced in central and southern Iraq due to climate-related factors, a number that is only expected to grow as the crisis deepens.

The story of Maryam Salman, a woman in her 30s, is a poignant illustration of this desperate and often futile search for water.

As reported by AFP, she was forced to leave the nearby province of Missan several years ago due to water scarcity, moving to Basra in the hope that her precious water buffalo could survive on the waters of the Shatt al-Arab.

But now, that hope has turned to dust. Near her new home, an AFP journalist saw the skeletal remains of three buffaloes lying on the parched land, a grim testament to the fact that the crisis has followed her. "Water is not available... neither summer nor winter," she said.

The problem is not just one of salinity, but of a fundamental and catastrophic lack of water. Iraq, a country with an inefficient and outdated water management system that has been neglected through decades of war and instability, receives less than 35 percent of its allocated share of water from the Tigris and Euphrates, both of which originate in Turkey.

Iraqi authorities have repeatedly blamed the extensive network of dams built by their upstream neighbors for this drastic reduction in flow. While the Iraqi government announced a major desalination project for Basra in July, with a projected capacity of one million cubic meters per day, experts like Hasan al-Khateeb have stressed that such projects must be pursued alongside a determined diplomatic effort to secure Iraq's rightful share of the river waters.

This water crisis is not confined to the south but is a national emergency that is manifesting in different but equally devastating ways across the country.

As previously reported by Kurdistan24, Lake Razzaza in Karbala Province, once one of Iraq's largest and most vital inland water bodies, is now on the brink of total desiccation, a stark symbol of state neglect and a looming environmental catastrophe that has already destroyed the local fishing and tourism economies.

In the parched plains surrounding the ancient city of Babil, a five-year drought has forced villagers into a desperate and daily struggle for survival, traveling for miles to secure a meager supply of drinking water and being forced to sell off their livestock, their primary source of livelihood.

The environmental collapse is a multi-faceted disaster. The historic Mesopotamian Marshes of southern Iraq, a UNESCO World Heritage Site, are rapidly disappearing, with residents reporting that dozens of their precious water buffalo are dying every day, forcing a mass exodus from these ancient wetlands.

The Strategic Center for Human Rights in Iraq has warned of a looming "humanitarian disaster" and has criticized the government for its weak response and lack of effective prevention plans. The Iraqi Ministry of Water Resources has issued its own dire warning, stating that the Tigris and Euphrates rivers could be completely dry by the year 2040 if the crisis continues unchecked.

In a sharp contrast to the widespread neglect and systemic failure seen in much of federal Iraq, the Kurdistan Regional Government (KRG) has been pursuing a proactive and strategic approach to water management and resilience.

Recognizing the existential threat posed by climate change and regional water politics, the KRG's ninth cabinet has made ensuring water security a core mission. Minister of Agriculture and Water Resources, Begard Talabani, recently announced that eight dams have been completed across the Kurdistan Region, with a combined storage capacity exceeding 160 million cubic meters.

Twelve more dams are currently under construction, and negotiations are ongoing with Baghdad for four major reservoirs that are expected to serve as Iraq's future water reserves. This is complemented by the construction of dozens of artificial lakes designed to support agriculture, fisheries, and rural development.

These projects, designed to safeguard against drought and ensure a sustainable balance, stand as a potential model for a more proactive national strategy.

Back in Basra, the human cost of this slow-motion disaster continues to mount. The brackish water is not only killing livestock and crops but is also devastating the local fishing industry.

Hamdiyah Mehdi, 52, told AFP that her husband, a fisherman, is now returning home empty-handed more and more frequently. The "murky and salty water" of the Shatt al-Arab is not only robbing them of their livelihood but is also taking a heavy toll on their health and family life.

She blames the water for her children's persistent rashes and for her husband's short temper after long, fruitless days on the river. "It has been tough," she said, her words a simple but powerful summary of a crisis that is poisoning not only the land but also the very fabric of society. "We take our frustrations out on each other."