Eleven years on, the Yazidi genocide continues in silence

On August 3, 2014, a genocide began, one whose consequences still reverberate today. On that day, fighters from the so-called Islamic State (ISIS) stormed the Shingal region in northern Iraq, home to the Yazidi minority. Thousands of men were executed. Women and children were abducted, enslaved, raped, and sold. The world eventually recognized these atrocities as genocide, a designation now officially acknowledged by the United Nations, numerous governments, and, as of January 2023, the German parliament (Bundestag).

Yet eleven years later, the genocide has not truly ended. It has merely shifted forms, from overt brutality to a silent erosion. What was once inflicted through violence now continues through political neglect, insecurity, cultural collapse, and transgenerational trauma. The genocide persists. Not in headlines, but in the everyday suffering of a people abandoned by the international community.

Shingal’s open wound

Shingal remains a volatile and unstable region. More than a decade on, the area has yet to recover. Reconstruction efforts have stalled, public infrastructure lies in ruins, and meaningful governance is virtually nonexistent. Instead of peace and stability, Shingal is now a battleground for competing powers, the Iraqi central government in Baghdad, rival local militias, and remnants of extremist networks. Baghdad has consistently failed to establish effective security or administrative control, leaving the Yazidis in a vacuum of lawlessness and fear.

For the 200,000 to 250,000 Yazidis still languishing in refugee camps - many for over a decade - this means prolonged displacement, uncertainty, and despair. Though they possess, in theory, the right to return, this remains a hollow promise.

The Iraqi government unfortunately has failed until yet to implement a safe and functioning administration in Shingal. These failures have eroded public trust and paralyzed reconstruction.

A silent genocide: Through displacement, cultural loss, and global apathy

While the massacres have ceased, the genocide endures in another form: the disintegration of a culture that has existed for millennia. The Yazidis are among the world’s oldest religious communities, without a holy book, without proselytizing, but with deeply rooted rituals and traditions. These cultural structures are disintegrating, as the people who sustained them are now scattered, traumatized, or dead.

Here begins a second form of genocide: erasure through disintegration.

In my academic work on transgenerational trauma (Transgenerational and Genocidal Trauma), I have shown that violence does not merely take lives. It embeds itself within the collective psyche, leading to a cultural paralysis that can persist for generations.

Children who survived ISIS captivity or were born into it suffer from severe psychological and developmental disorders. Women endure complex post-traumatic stress, but systematic, long-term therapeutic care remains grossly insufficient, in Iraq, the Kurdistan Region, and abroad. This too is a failure of the international community. While words of sympathy are often offered, sustained funding and real support remain elusive.

Genocide is not completed solely by the initial crime. It is finalized by the silence, the inaction, and the abdication of responsibility that follow.

Even today, there are no adequate educational opportunities, no legal guarantees for returnees, and no strategic support for Yazidi institutions. Meanwhile, political rivalries continue to derail serious reconstruction efforts. International pressure on Baghdad remains woefully insufficient.

Many countries have symbolically recognized the Yazidi genocide, but symbolism alone does not protect a people. Germany’s 2015 special program for traumatized Yazidi women was a rare and commendable example of compassionate and pragmatic action. And in 2023, when the German Bundestag officially recognized the genocide, it brought new promises, especially concerning Shingal’s reconstruction. Yet even these commitments have remained largely unfulfilled.

What is needed now is not more commemorative gestures, but bold political action:

- sustained funding for psychosocial support programs in Iraq and the Kurdistan Region;
- robust legal protections for minorities, enshrined in the Iraqi constitution and enforced through international monitoring;
- clear diplomatic pressure on Baghdad to stabilize Shingal and implement a structured return program with guaranteed security;
- empowerment of the Yazidi community, particularly in education and cultural preservation, to safeguard Yazidi identity and ensure its future.

Trauma does not end with a ceasefire. It ends with healing

Healing is not a secondary concern. It is a prerequisite for peace and development. Without psychological stabilization, there can be no social recovery. Therapy is not merely humanitarian, it is a political imperative.

Eleven years after the genocide, the Yazidi people remain under existential threat, not just from violence, but from neglect, bureaucracy, and political indifference. If the international community truly believes in the principle of “never again,” then the time for action is now.

The Yazidis exemplify how fragile cultures can be destroyed not only by bullets and bombs, but by apathy. If they disappear, the loss will not be Iraq’s alone, it will be humanity’s.

The genocide is not over. It continues through political paralysis, cultural annihilation, and inherited trauma.

The Kurdistan Regional Government must also do more. It must set aside political conflicts with Baghdad and stand firmly with the Yazidi people, in words and in deeds.

Yazidis must hear and see: You are not alone.

What we need now is not another minute of silence, but deliberate, determined policies that support reconstruction, ensure security, and promote healing.

Those who fail to protect today will bear the burden of responsibility tomorrow.

Dr. Jan Ilhan Kizilhan is a psychologist, author and publisher, an expert in psychotraumatology, trauma, terror and war, transcultural psychiatry, psychotherapy and migration.

The views expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the position of Rudaw.