Erbil, Iraqi Kurdistan, photo by Antonio Graceffo When I first arrived in Erbil, the capital of Iraqi Kurdistan, I wasn’t sure what I would find or whether people would be willing to be photographed or to talk to a journalist. But as I strolled through the city, I discovered that people were incredibly open.Sitting on the second story of a café, I looked out over the beautiful city the Kurds have built and maintained despite decades of war. The contrast was stark: while Islamist groups such as al-Qaeda, the Taliban, and ISIS had brought only death, repression, poverty, and suffering wherever they established control, here in Kurdistan, religious freedom and racial tolerance had created safety and prosperity.The Kurds in Iraqi Kurdistan are well aware that their lives are far better than those of Kurds in neighboring Syria. Iraqi Kurdistan, officially the Kurdistan Region of Iraq, has its own democratically elected government (the Kurdistan Regional Government, or KRG), its own parliament and president, its own armed forces known as the Peshmerga, and even issues its own visa stamps for travelers arriving at Erbil and Sulaymaniyah airports. This autonomy is formally recognized under Iraq’s 2005 constitution, giving the region legal protections and a degree of stability unmatched elsewhere in the Middle East.By contrast, Syrian Kurds administer an autonomous region known as the Autonomous Administration of North and East Syria (AANES, or Rojava), but it is not recognized by the Syrian constitution or the international community. Their military, the Syrian Democratic Forces (SDF), remains unofficial, leaving the region vulnerable. Extremist groups aligned with the HTS government under Al-Jolani, made up of remnants of al-Qaeda, other militants, as well as Turkish-backed factions, continue to commit atrocities, impose a strict interpretation of Islam, and target religious and ethnic minorities. As a result, life in Syria is unstable and economic development has largely ground to a halt.People in Erbil enjoy sitting outdoors, drinking coffee and tea, and talking with their friends. Photo by Antonio Graceffo.“And this word ‘Islamist,’ like for Al-Jolani or those guys… this is not good for religion,” explained Dlo, a 38-year-old Kurdish Muslim who serves as country director of Free Burma Rangers (FBR), DBA Free the Oppressed in Iraq and Kurdistan. Extremism, he said, damages Islam’s image by turning Westerners against all Muslims, and it is not in keeping with the true teachings of Islam.In Kurdistan, by contrast, moderation allows different religions to coexist. “We have Muslims and Christians as the two biggest religions, and we are living together. After ISIS came, things were bad for all minorities, but since its defeat, relations have improved. We have many good relationships together.”This openness, he noted, is unique to Kurdistan. In the rest of Iraq, religious tolerance is far less common, while in Syria extremists are killing people or trying to force them to convert. “We don’t agree with them because they’re pushing people,” Dlo said. “They say, ‘You have to be Muslim, otherwise I’m going to kill you. I’m Muslim, but I’ve never agreed with forcing someone to convert.”In Dlo’s view, it is the separation of religion and government that has given Erbil its high standard of living. Combined with the city’s openness to Christians, Yazidis, and other minorities, he believes this tolerance is the driving force behind Erbil’s rapid growth.On my first full day in the country, I decided to take a 10-kilometer hike around Erbil alone. I wasn’t sure how people would feel about me taking photos or trying to interview them, but I was pleasantly surprised. When I showed people my camera, most wanted to be photographed and would even invite their friends into the shot.Most people were friendly and wanted their photo taken, often expressing pro-American sentiments. Erbil, Iraqi Kurdistan. Photo by Antonio Graceffo. I needed some pictures of economic development, and when I tried photographing the new high-rises under construction, workers stopped to pose for me and gave me thumbs-up afterward.Construction workers would stop what they were doing to pose when they saw my camera. Erbil, Iraqi Kurdistan. Photo by Antonio Graceffo. One man asked me to come inside his shop and photograph him with his merchandise. I asked some military men if I could take their photo, and they insisted that I be in the picture with them. Then their officer joined in, and soon they all wanted to pose together.One man invited me into his shop and asked me to photograph him with his wares. Erbil, Iraqi Kurdistan. Photo by Antonio Graceffo. I also found I couldn’t walk 100 meters without someone inviting me for tea and sweets. Many couldn’t speak English, but when they learned I was American (I always wear a Captain America T-shirt in the field), they simply said, “Thank you,” and some added, “God bless you.” Those who could speak English were quick to tell me, “We have Christians, Muslims, Yazidis, Kurds, and Arabs living here safely.”There were sweets, coffee, and tea everywhere. Most of the sweets were similar to Turkish, Greek, or Sicilian varieties, made with flaky dough, honey, or sweet cheeses. Photo by Antonio Graceffo.Several people shared their experiences as refugees abroad. One man named Muhammad had spent 17 years in the UK, another had spent 13 in Germany, yet both had returned, because they believed in Kurdistan, in Erbil, and in its mission to build a livable society based on freedom and peace.A man named Mahmoud, sitting in front of his shop, invited me for a snack. Like many Kurds, he was eager to speak about the country they have built and why Erbil is such a uniquely safe and prosperous city. “People are so friendly,” he said. “People are nice, kind, with good hearts, always offering something. And the important thing is it’s very safe. Wherever you go, it’s safe.” I found that Kurds loved to talk politics, especially about why they trusted the Kurdistan government and how it differed from the Iraqi government in Baghdad. “There are a few reasons why,” Mahmoud continued.“First of all, the Kurdistan government and its people are closely connected to the local community. And it’s not only Kurdish people here. There is Ankawa, a Christian neighborhood, and we’ve been interconnected for years. We are Muslim and they are Christian, and we also have other religions like Yazidis living among us. Of course, we are Muslim, but there are many Arabs around too, and all these people live together.”The mention of Ankawa is significant. This Christian neighborhood in Erbil represents the kind of peaceful coexistence that has become increasingly rare in the Middle East. While Christians face persecution and danger in much of Iraq, in Kurdistan they live openly and safely, maintaining their churches and traditions without fear.A new church under construction in Erbil. Photo by Antonio Graceffo.Mahmoud also pointed to the rapid changes shaping the city. “Erbil is growing very fast. It’s not like before. It’s bigger than ever and developing now, really developing.”There is new construction everywhere in Erbil—shops, apartments, and malls. Photo by Antonio Graceffo. Kurdistan’s commitment to religious freedom extends beyond its borders. Today, the Kurdish autonomous zone in Syria provides refuge for Christians, Alawites, and other minorities fleeing mass atrocities committed by extremist groups such as al-Jolani’s HTS government that now controls much of Syria. During the war with ISIS, Kurdish regions became safe havens for those fleeing genocide. Yazidis, Christians, and other persecuted groups found protection in Kurdish-controlled areas when ISIS was massacring religious minorities and destroying ancient communities throughout Iraq and Syria.The Syrian Democratic Forces, led primarily by Kurds, incorporate Arabs, Assyrians, Syriacs, Armenians, Turkmen, and Chechens into their multi-ethnic alliance. This pluralism stands in stark contrast to the sectarian violence practiced by extremist groups.The contrast between Kurdistan and areas controlled by Islamist extremists couldn’t be clearer. Where ISIS, al-Qaeda, and the Taliban have imposed rigid theocratic rule, they’ve created zones of death and poverty. Where the Kurds have embraced religious freedom and ethnic tolerance, they’ve built safety and prosperity.View of Erbil city center from a café balcony. Erbil, Iraqi Kurdistan. Photo by Antonio Graceffo.Walking through Erbil’s streets, knowing they haven’t seen fighting in nearly ten years, observing the rapid development, it is clear that this model works. The Kurds in Syria would like to have the same type of official autonomous government as the Kurds in Iraq. Other ethnic minorities in Syria who have recently faced slaughter, including the Alawites and Druze, also aspire to autonomy.Even in the Burma war, where I work much of the year, the ethnic armed groups are aware of Iraqi Kurdistan and view it as a model for the autonomy they hope to achieve. This is an area where U.S. or international intervention could help, without putting American troops on the ground or committing U.S. taxpayer money. The U.S. and international community could pressure the Syrian and Burmese governments to establish autonomous zones for ethnic minorities, helping to bring an end to the bloodshed.The author, Antonio Graceffo, reporting from Erbil, Iraqi Kurdistan.The post Reporting from Iraqi Kurdistan: How Religious Freedom Built Iraq’s Safest City appeared first on The Gateway Pundit.