Drought threatens Babylon’s fig trees: A tree for people, bees, and bulbul songbirds 

Marwan Al-Fatlawi

22 Dec 2025

A fig tree can live for half a century and begins bearing fruit after its third year. On Saadoun Al-Saadouni’s farm, some trees are older than his eldest son. He tended them with the same care he gave his children. This is a story of fig trees dying in Babylon, one of Iraq’s most fertile provinces.

In a small orchard in the village of Tufail, south of Babylon, no larger than a single dunam (1,000 square meters), Saadoun Al-Saadouni planted one hundred fig trees. This season, he stands among them, watching in quiet regret. Yields are no longer what they were just two years ago. Back then, a single tree could produce between 25 and 40 crates, weighing up to 20 kilograms of rich black fruit. Today, each tree yields no more than 15 to 20 kilograms every two or three days — a sharp decline caused by drought. 

The fig harvest season usually begins in mid-June and runs through the end of October. This year, however, production has fallen dramatically compared to previous seasons. Many orchards have dried out entirely, and surface irrigation has largely disappeared, leaving farmers dependent on groundwater alone. 

“Fig trees are thirsty by nature,” Al-Saadouni says. “They don’t just need watering — they need washing too, to remove dust that attracts spider mites. We have no alternative now except wells, what we call prime water.” 

Fig trees in Babylon. Photo credit: Marwan Al-Fatlawi. 

Water scarcity has pushed farmers toward groundwater, which is rich in sulphur, altering the figs’ flavour and changing their colour from deep black to red, Al-Saadouni explains. 

He tells Jummar that the Ministry of Water Resources reduced the share of Euphrates water allocated to Babylon this year, diverting it toward municipal water projects in the south of the province. As a result, fig trees have suffered even more. 

With scarce rainfall, there is no longer enough water to wash the trees naturally. Diseases and spider infestations have spread, forcing farmers to rely on pesticides. 

But the losses go beyond fruit alone. The orchard itself has lost much of its vitality. Fig trees once provided a habitat for bees, which produced honey from their nectar; for the Iraqi bulbul (a songbird), which feeds on figs; and for the cattle egret, or the white heron, which follows farmers during irrigation to catch worms and insects. Drought and pesticides have driven these creatures away one by one. Bees have disappeared. Bulbuls are gone. The white egret has become rare. 

Despite everything, Al-Saadouni remains attached to his ageing trees — some up to thirty years old — though he describes this season as a loss unlike any he has known. 

Bani Muslim Figs 

In a neighbouring village to Tufail, stretching along the Euphrates, lies Bani Muslim, a village whose name has become synonymous with figs. So closely associated is the fruit with the place that the province itself came to be known as Iraq’s fig capital. 

“Bani Muslim figs have very specific qualities,” says agricultural expert Bassim Al-Musilmawi, who owns a large, highly productive orchard. 

“The fruit is medium-sized, with a deep black skin like ink — thin and unable to withstand long journeys. Inside is a honey-like pulp, sharply sweet, combining the sweetness of berries and cherries. It’s so good it feels like a treasure meant to be eaten quickly, before it melts. Despite the fragility of the skin, the tree itself is strong, resistant to soil diseases — especially nematodes that attack the roots thanks to its dense fibrous root system.” 

When Al-Musilmawi speaks about Bani Muslim’s figs, he is telling the life story of a deeply rooted tree, not merely describing a fruit. 

Babylon’s figs. Photo credit: Marwan Al-Fatlawi. 

Many assume this fig variety descended from Spanish black figs because of its appearance, but anyone who has tasted it knows it is something else entirely: a thin black skin, honey-sweet flesh, a fig meant to be eaten beneath its own shade, not shipped to distant markets. 

So where did it come from? Al-Musilmawi admits the answer remains a mystery. He asked his father, who told him the fig tree was already there when he was a child — and before that, in the time of his grandparents. Generations inherited the tree without ever knowing its origin: whether it arrived as a seed from outside Iraq or grew here from the beginning, no one knows. 

Today, Bani Muslim’s figs face their greatest challenge yet: drought. Orchards near the river have maintained strong yields, while others in drought-stricken areas have suffered severe losses. Still, Al-Musilmawi says, “There is always abundance somewhere. When one area is harmed, another compensates. Figs still appear in the market every year.” 

Last year, Babylon province produced around 80,000 tonnes of figs. This year, production is not expected to reach that figure due to water shortages. 

As stories now travel through screens, Al-Musilmawi founded a Facebook group called “Lovers of Fig Cultivation Worldwide”, attracting more than 360,000 followers from Iraq and beyond. They exchange knowledge and experience about the fig tree. 

Through this network, Al-Musilmawi has spread these fig trees beyond the Iraq’s borders — not through saplings, which require complex procedures, but through cuttings. 

In Libya, thousands of cuttings were planted, and farmers there began producing figs after just a few years. Even at international exhibitions, Al-Musilmawi participated remotely with a dedicated pavilion, sharing images of his nursery, farms, and cultivation stages — introducing the world to a tree that has become an ambassador for his village. 

“The yield is generous,” he says. “The older the tree grows, the more it gives. Its production doesn’t decline — it rises year after year, unless affected by thirst or drought in certain orchards.” 

Bleeding Figs 

Not every farmer in Bani Muslim has Al-Musilmawi’s expertise. Ahmed Abu Shahad complains of a scale insect infestation he insists has no cure. Its symptoms, he says, are that “the fig bleeds.” The sight frightens him, making him hesitant to harvest or sell the fruit. Al-Musilmawi explains that it is an insect laying hundreds of eggs, releasing a red pigment when crushed. 

But Abu Shahad’s greatest complaint is drought. “Fig cultivation is now under threat in Bani Muslim,” he says. “Some farmers have abandoned agriculture altogether, turning to construction work or poultry farms.” 

Every morning, he adds, buses arrive in the village to take young men to Karbala, where they work in poultry farms owned Abu Sajjad, a businessman from the city of Al-Hillah. 

Water levels in the Euphrates — on which Babylon depends — have dropped so sharply that residents protested for the first time over water shortages. In July 2025, hundreds of people in the village of Al-Majriya took to the streets after water was cut off, coinciding with an announcement by the Ministry of Water Resources that this year was among the driest since 1933. 

Historically, Babylon has been one of Iraq’s most important agricultural regions, in both crop and livestock production. In recent years, however, plant production has declined across the board due to water scarcity affecting most crops. 

Despite this overall downturn, Thamer Al-Khafaji, director of Babylon’s Agriculture Directorate, insists that figs have emerged as one of the crops least affected by drought. Figs, he explains, are “riverbank” plants that thrive near watercourses. 

For this reason, fig cultivation is concentrated along the Euphrates, particularly in Al-Kifl district, which has become Babylon’s main centre for fig production. 

An Economic Crop 

Al-Khafaji explains that fig cultivation in Babylon has only recently been recognised as an economic crop, after decades of being mostly grown in home gardens. Today, figs have become a commercial crop, offering farmers a growing source of livelihood. 

Although no precise statistics are available yet for the current season— field indicators suggest a noticeable recovery in fig production. Al-Khafaji says several fig farmers in Al-Kifl have formally requested permission to export figs to neighbouring countries, stating they could export up to 20 tonnes per day. 

“This reflects farmers’ confidence in the economic viability of the crop,” he says. “The fig fruit has high market value compared to other fruits, encouraging farmers to invest in it and adopt modern irrigation methods such as drip irrigation, which reduce water waste and help ensure sustainability.” 

He adds that fig trees are resilient, capable of withstanding harsh conditions for many years, even during drought — an added advantage at a time of climate change and increasing water scarcity. 

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In a small orchard in the village of Tufail, south of Babylon, no larger than a single dunam (1,000 square meters), Saadoun Al-Saadouni planted one hundred fig trees. This season, he stands among them, watching in quiet regret. Yields are no longer what they were just two years ago. Back then, a single tree could produce between 25 and 40 crates, weighing up to 20 kilograms of rich black fruit. Today, each tree yields no more than 15 to 20 kilograms every two or three days — a sharp decline caused by drought. 

The fig harvest season usually begins in mid-June and runs through the end of October. This year, however, production has fallen dramatically compared to previous seasons. Many orchards have dried out entirely, and surface irrigation has largely disappeared, leaving farmers dependent on groundwater alone. 

“Fig trees are thirsty by nature,” Al-Saadouni says. “They don’t just need watering — they need washing too, to remove dust that attracts spider mites. We have no alternative now except wells, what we call prime water.” 

Fig trees in Babylon. Photo credit: Marwan Al-Fatlawi. 

Water scarcity has pushed farmers toward groundwater, which is rich in sulphur, altering the figs’ flavour and changing their colour from deep black to red, Al-Saadouni explains. 

He tells Jummar that the Ministry of Water Resources reduced the share of Euphrates water allocated to Babylon this year, diverting it toward municipal water projects in the south of the province. As a result, fig trees have suffered even more. 

With scarce rainfall, there is no longer enough water to wash the trees naturally. Diseases and spider infestations have spread, forcing farmers to rely on pesticides. 

But the losses go beyond fruit alone. The orchard itself has lost much of its vitality. Fig trees once provided a habitat for bees, which produced honey from their nectar; for the Iraqi bulbul (a songbird), which feeds on figs; and for the cattle egret, or the white heron, which follows farmers during irrigation to catch worms and insects. Drought and pesticides have driven these creatures away one by one. Bees have disappeared. Bulbuls are gone. The white egret has become rare. 

Despite everything, Al-Saadouni remains attached to his ageing trees — some up to thirty years old — though he describes this season as a loss unlike any he has known. 

Bani Muslim Figs 

In a neighbouring village to Tufail, stretching along the Euphrates, lies Bani Muslim, a village whose name has become synonymous with figs. So closely associated is the fruit with the place that the province itself came to be known as Iraq’s fig capital. 

“Bani Muslim figs have very specific qualities,” says agricultural expert Bassim Al-Musilmawi, who owns a large, highly productive orchard. 

“The fruit is medium-sized, with a deep black skin like ink — thin and unable to withstand long journeys. Inside is a honey-like pulp, sharply sweet, combining the sweetness of berries and cherries. It’s so good it feels like a treasure meant to be eaten quickly, before it melts. Despite the fragility of the skin, the tree itself is strong, resistant to soil diseases — especially nematodes that attack the roots thanks to its dense fibrous root system.” 

When Al-Musilmawi speaks about Bani Muslim’s figs, he is telling the life story of a deeply rooted tree, not merely describing a fruit. 

Babylon’s figs. Photo credit: Marwan Al-Fatlawi. 

Many assume this fig variety descended from Spanish black figs because of its appearance, but anyone who has tasted it knows it is something else entirely: a thin black skin, honey-sweet flesh, a fig meant to be eaten beneath its own shade, not shipped to distant markets. 

So where did it come from? Al-Musilmawi admits the answer remains a mystery. He asked his father, who told him the fig tree was already there when he was a child — and before that, in the time of his grandparents. Generations inherited the tree without ever knowing its origin: whether it arrived as a seed from outside Iraq or grew here from the beginning, no one knows. 

Today, Bani Muslim’s figs face their greatest challenge yet: drought. Orchards near the river have maintained strong yields, while others in drought-stricken areas have suffered severe losses. Still, Al-Musilmawi says, “There is always abundance somewhere. When one area is harmed, another compensates. Figs still appear in the market every year.” 

Last year, Babylon province produced around 80,000 tonnes of figs. This year, production is not expected to reach that figure due to water shortages. 

As stories now travel through screens, Al-Musilmawi founded a Facebook group called “Lovers of Fig Cultivation Worldwide”, attracting more than 360,000 followers from Iraq and beyond. They exchange knowledge and experience about the fig tree. 

Through this network, Al-Musilmawi has spread these fig trees beyond the Iraq’s borders — not through saplings, which require complex procedures, but through cuttings. 

In Libya, thousands of cuttings were planted, and farmers there began producing figs after just a few years. Even at international exhibitions, Al-Musilmawi participated remotely with a dedicated pavilion, sharing images of his nursery, farms, and cultivation stages — introducing the world to a tree that has become an ambassador for his village. 

“The yield is generous,” he says. “The older the tree grows, the more it gives. Its production doesn’t decline — it rises year after year, unless affected by thirst or drought in certain orchards.” 

Bleeding Figs 

Not every farmer in Bani Muslim has Al-Musilmawi’s expertise. Ahmed Abu Shahad complains of a scale insect infestation he insists has no cure. Its symptoms, he says, are that “the fig bleeds.” The sight frightens him, making him hesitant to harvest or sell the fruit. Al-Musilmawi explains that it is an insect laying hundreds of eggs, releasing a red pigment when crushed. 

But Abu Shahad’s greatest complaint is drought. “Fig cultivation is now under threat in Bani Muslim,” he says. “Some farmers have abandoned agriculture altogether, turning to construction work or poultry farms.” 

Every morning, he adds, buses arrive in the village to take young men to Karbala, where they work in poultry farms owned Abu Sajjad, a businessman from the city of Al-Hillah. 

Water levels in the Euphrates — on which Babylon depends — have dropped so sharply that residents protested for the first time over water shortages. In July 2025, hundreds of people in the village of Al-Majriya took to the streets after water was cut off, coinciding with an announcement by the Ministry of Water Resources that this year was among the driest since 1933. 

Historically, Babylon has been one of Iraq’s most important agricultural regions, in both crop and livestock production. In recent years, however, plant production has declined across the board due to water scarcity affecting most crops. 

Despite this overall downturn, Thamer Al-Khafaji, director of Babylon’s Agriculture Directorate, insists that figs have emerged as one of the crops least affected by drought. Figs, he explains, are “riverbank” plants that thrive near watercourses. 

For this reason, fig cultivation is concentrated along the Euphrates, particularly in Al-Kifl district, which has become Babylon’s main centre for fig production. 

An Economic Crop 

Al-Khafaji explains that fig cultivation in Babylon has only recently been recognised as an economic crop, after decades of being mostly grown in home gardens. Today, figs have become a commercial crop, offering farmers a growing source of livelihood. 

Although no precise statistics are available yet for the current season— field indicators suggest a noticeable recovery in fig production. Al-Khafaji says several fig farmers in Al-Kifl have formally requested permission to export figs to neighbouring countries, stating they could export up to 20 tonnes per day. 

“This reflects farmers’ confidence in the economic viability of the crop,” he says. “The fig fruit has high market value compared to other fruits, encouraging farmers to invest in it and adopt modern irrigation methods such as drip irrigation, which reduce water waste and help ensure sustainability.” 

He adds that fig trees are resilient, capable of withstanding harsh conditions for many years, even during drought — an added advantage at a time of climate change and increasing water scarcity.