Resurrection of al-Hadba: Mosul’s minaret rises again

The sight of Mosul landmark minaret of al-Hadba, destroyed by Daesh, climbing back into Mosul’s sky is a quiet declaration: the city endures.

Mosul's centuries old tilting minaret, has been rebuilt with the same distinct lean that once made it an iconic symbol of the skyline (Ismael Adnan).
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Mosul's centuries old tilting minaret, has been rebuilt with the same distinct lean that once made it an iconic symbol of the skyline (Ismael Adnan).

In the heart of northern Iraq, a symbol of resilence is rising once more. The iconic al-Hadba minaret of Mosul, a landmark destroyed by Daesh in 2017, is being meticulously restored, brick by brick. Its distinctive tilt, which earned it the nickname “The Hunchback,” is slowly returning to the skyline, reminding the world that Mosul’s heritage, and its people, will not be erased.

“It’s one of Mosul’s most important landmarks,” says, Ahmed Qasim al-Juma, an archaeologist speaking to TRT World.

The al-Hadba minaret, part of the 12th century al-Nuri Mosque, was once a beacon of Mosul’s rich cultural heritage. Built during the Seljuk dynasty by the Turkic ruler Nur al-Din Mahmoud Zangi, the mosque with its powder-green dome and its leaning minaret, became symbols of the city’s architectural beauty. “The architectural and artistic elements of the mosque, built during the Atabeg era, part of the Seljuk dynasty, reflect Mosul’s rich cultural heritage,” explains al-Juma. The minaret’s tilt, caused by centuries of environmental factors – including harsh winds and sun exposure – has long been a unique feature of the structure, but it wasn’t until 2007 that the tilt became significant enough to measure – bending eastwards at 2.53 metres.

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Al-Nuri mosque complex, and it's minaret, were destroyed by Daesh during the battle of Mosul (Ismael Adnan).

The mosque and its minaret became even more prominent in 2014, when Daesh’s leader, Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi, declared a “caliphate” from the mosque’s pulpit. But by 2017, as Iraqi forces closed in on the city, Daesh demolished the minaret, along with much of the mosque complex, in an act of destruction aimed at erasing both a venerated religious site and a piece of Mosul’s cultural identity.

The destruction of the minaret became symbolic for many. As Omar Taqa, UNESCO’s site engineer, explains the restoration of the mosque and minaret is part of a wider effort to reclaim the city’s identity. “We asked Mosul’s people what they wanted,” Taqa says in an exclusive interview with TRT World. “Ninety-four percent said, ‘Rebuild it as it was—leaning, on the same damaged base.”

This overwhelming support for restoring the minaret to its original state reflects a deep connection to the city’s past. It’s a symbol not just of Mosul’s architectural history but of its resilience and hope for the future.

The mosque and its minaret have withstood centuries of environmental challenges, explains al-Juma, from north-westerly winds to sun exposure, and even bomb damage during the Iran-Iraq War. Despite its structural vulnerabilities, the minaret remained standing, a testament to the ingenuity of its builders. Al-Juma says, “It’s astonishing how it stood for centuries with no external support.”

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The brass crescent moon, that crowns the top of the minaret, glistens in the sunlight (Ismael Adnan).

In 2018, UNESCO, backed by $50.4 million from the UAE, launched a comprehensive plan ‘Revive the Spirit of Mosul’, to reconstruct the city’s heritage. The al-Hadba minaret, along with the al-Nuri Mosque, was a central focus of this initiative. As part of the restoration, 90 per cent of the original bricks, salvaged from the site, were reused to preserve the authenticity of the structure. New local bricks were incorporated into the interior to reinforce its stability. "The al-Hadba minaret has been [re]built as it was before, leaning, and also with the same inscriptions that were on it, and its height is the same as it was before the explosion – 50.75 metres," says Taqa.

But still several works remain, namely the internal plastering of the staircase paths, cleaning and washing of the bricks, and electrical works, “which are also major works," adds Taqa.

The project has also created more than 3,000 much-needed jobs, far exceeding its initial target of 1,000, contributing not only to the city’s physical rebuilding but also to its social and economic recovery.

Architectural marvel

During the restoration work, hidden layers of Mosul’s history have been unearthed. Excavations beneath the al-Nuri Mosque have revealed remnants of a prayer hall demolished in 1944, as well as ablution areas that date back centuries.

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The al-Hadba minaret features the same intricate details that have decorated its walls for centuries (Ismael Adnan).

“We’ve uncovered the original prayer hall two metres below ground and the ablution areas six metres deeper,” Taqa says. These discoveries offer a deeper understanding of Mosul’s cultural and religious past.

Reconstruction began in February 2019, starting with site clearance and excavation. The scope extends beyond al-Hadba, but the minaret, with its unmistakable lean, is central to the effort.

In November 2020, UNESCO launched an international design competition for the reconstruction of the al-Nuri Mosque complex. The winning design, Dialogue of the Arcades, by a team of Egyptian engineers, skilfully blends restoration and innovation, honouring the past while looking toward the future.

Soul of the city

For Mosul’s residents, the restoration of the minaret is not just a construction project; it’s a deeply personal journey.

Mohammed Hussein, 49, a labourer on the restoration site, grew up near the mosque and recalls the emotional impact of the mosque’s destruction. “I prayed here as a teenager,” he says. “When Daesh blew it up, it felt like we lost a piece of ourselves. Now, I tell my children, ‘One day, I helped rebuild this mosque.’”

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The rebuilding of the mosque created more than 3,000 jobs (Ismael Adnan).

For many, the mosque was not just a religious site; it was a part of the fabric of their daily lives. Manaf Mahmoud, who last prayed at the mosque in 2015, says, “It wasn’t just a mosque, it was a part of our lives, our city’s soul.”

Now, as the minaret rises once again, so too does the spirit of Mosul. Its restoration is a reminder that, even in the face of destruction, the city’s cultural identity endures—and that its people, bound by memory and hope, are rebuilding not just their landmarks, but their future.

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