In April 2015, I landed in Baghdad once again, welcomed by the corridors of the Ministry of Science and Technology, heavy with their great questions. There, under the supervision of my friend Dr. Adel Matloub, the ministry's advisor, I set one goal before me: to reformulate the scientific spirit in an institution that sometimes seemed to celebrate luxurious equipment more than the pulse of the researcher.
As I toured the laboratories, it was—as usual in most places I visited, like universities and research centers—modern equipment filling the space with their silent whinny, lined up like artifacts in a glass exhibition. But I asked with anguish: where is the impact of this equipment on the movement of science and the national economy? The faces were kind, but scientific pallor and deferred enthusiasm dominated the details of work.
Scientific research was not the primary concern for many of the ministry's employees; it was overshadowed by other interests ranging from following the political situation, managing daily living concerns, to seeking entertainment to fill work hours. Although I was not unaware of the complexities of daily reality in Iraq and the contradictions of its academic mind, what I witnessed that day exceeded every expectation.
I remember clearly when I entered the office of one of the scientific department directors, finding him absorbed with a colleague in a state resembling trance, his eyes fixed on the TV screen with complete devotion. I asked him what was so interesting to them, and he turned to me shouting with a trembling voice from deep emotion: "Look at this divine light shining on the surface of the Kaaba!" He began elaborating on this "light-filled blessing" and considering it a divine miracle manifesting before our eyes, appearing disturbed and concerned by my immediate lack of interest or coolness toward what he saw. He did not hesitate to summon others from the hallway and adjacent offices to witness this "blessing descending from heaven." In a flash, the place turned into a scene of chaos, and feigned reverence and false awe filled the room. We stood for a long time, and no one noticed my presence or my scientific mission for which I had come; it was as if it had never existed. Who would pay attention to research, or care to discuss experiments, results, and knowledge concerns with an external expert, when the awe of a television scene stands as a barrier between the mind and the most basic rules of rational thinking? I left the place without anyone noticing why I was there, or even why I left.
"Many of the ministry's researchers lack scientific enthusiasm and a genuine desire to acquire knowledge—essential qualities for a productive researcher."
That observation was not just passing criticism, but an urgent call for the institution to embrace its researchers. From here was born the idea of intensive workshops on research and innovation skills, where we spent two full days in lively discussion on how to write projects, teamwork, and the art of presentation that many lack.
In my meeting with Minister Fares Youssef Jajo, I sensed an attentive ear and a genuine desire for reform. We discussed fine details, starting from the ministry's website, which seemed to me more like an administrative bulletin board neglecting researchers and concerned with formalities, to the greater dream: restructuring the "Iraqi Journal of Science and Technology" to become a global window open to the latest innovations of the age. I proposed then, with simple practical steps—through guides and global digital platforms—that the journal should leave its narrow locality toward the horizons of the Middle East and the world, and that research groups should transform into flexible cells instead of rigid bureaucratic centers.
That visit was not merely a consulting mission, but an attempt to light a candle in the darkness of routine. I left behind new forms for research evaluation, proposals for establishing a science museum, and periodic letters from the minister to raise the morale of the unknown soldiers in laboratories. Although the path to radical reform is long, I retain in my memory images of those young researchers passionately discussing, hoping that those seeds would one day bear their true fruit in the soil of the homeland.