At first glance, the northern city of   Mosul appears to be calm and tugging along despite violence that has gripped much of the rest of Iraq. However, when one scratches the surface one finds two factors at play: The results of and reactions to the US occupation on the one hand, and the diverse nationalistic, ethnic, and religious influences on the other.

The question, then, for the city of Mosul is how all these factors play against one another, or in most cases oppose one another.

During Saddam Hussein’s reign, Mosul was the bastion of Sunni support and also the source for most of the Iraqi army’s senior officers. However, during the March 2003 invasion, some blamed the people of Mosul for not firing a single shot in resistance.

The resistance in Mosul began on a passive scale. When US soldiers first entered the city and patrolled its streets and between the ancient roads of its suqs (marketplace), residents were warned not to interact with the occupying force. They were warned that they would be labeled “traitors.”

This initial period quickly developed into a loss of confidence and growing distrust between the city’s residents and the occupying US army. The people of the city began to question why US soldiers pointed their guns at them in a menacing way—a way that was in direct opposition to the traditions of the city.

Eventually, US soldiers began to display very aggressive behavior dealing with the city’s residents in a bellicose and warlike manner.

Munthir, a carpet seller in the old quarter of the city, remembers a night US soldiers surrounded a maqha (cafe) and began screaming at its patrons, pushing them down to the ground, cuffing them and treating them very roughly.

“Some tried to debate the American soldiers asking them why they were here, but they only received obscenities in return and were treated very harshly,” Munthir said.

He says that the US troops finally arrested one of the patrons, uncuffed the rest, and left without explaining why they were there.

S. A., aUniversity of Mosul  professor, recalls how he was arrested by US forces at his family home and then released a week later when no charges were brought up against him.

“My wife and I, and our two children were sleeping at 2 a.m. when US soldiers blew up the door to the house and barged in screaming at us. They tied us all up, even my nine-year-old daughter,” he said.

S. A. refused to give his name for fear of reprisal from US forces or their Iraqi national guard counterparts.

It is incidents like these that fuelled a slowly growing resentment of US occupation troops.

Ahmad Hussein, a 25-year-old building contractor, says he is saddened by the situation in Mosul . He says that the city wants to progress and be a member of the global community but it is riddled by three destructive forces: Saddam, the US occupiers, and now the violent attacks from some non-Arabs who have infiltrated the country after the demise of the Iraqi government 19 months ago.

The city of Mosul is but one example of what is transpiring all across  Iraq .  US  forces are facing the same resentment and the same opposition to their occupation in virtually all parts of  Iraq  except for the Kurdish areas.

The people of Mosul are industrious and aspiring but they are quickly losing hope in a secure future for them and their children. Many are planning futures elsewhere.

Jamal Mihsin, a professor of pharmacology, told IslamOnline.net that he decided to liquidate all his assets and move to Syria after he received threats from unknown sources and heard of several colleagues being kidnapped.

To add more fuel to the fire, Mosul  is gripped by the instability concerning the future of  Iraq’s north vis-à-vis the Kurdish question.   Mosul  is considered predominantly an “Arab” city, but there are fears that it may become the target of Kurdish expansionism—whether economic or political.

The city’s residents are already alarmed by the recent growth of buildings housing Kurdish political parties. But by the same token, they are observing with growing distaste the rapid influx of foreign-influenced Islamic groups, such as Ansar Al-Sunna or the Islamic Army of Iraq. They adorn the walls of mosques with their posters and fliers, usually threatening Mosul residents with retribution and death if they work with foreign forces or the interim Iraqi government.

Despite what US media may claim, these groups are operating in   Mosul  with near impunity.

This is the Mosul  of today, four months after the so-called sovereignty handover, ruled by lawlessness. At the core is a government weakened by the presence of US occupation troops. Surrounding that are various factions—religious and political—who may, or may not, vow allegiance to a national Iraq.   

Abdullah Ghafar Al-Mosuli is an Iraqi journalist based in Mosul, Iraq.