False Witnesses, a solo exhibition by Iraqi artist Dia al-Azzawi (b. 1939), is on view at Saleh Barakat Gallery, in Beirut. Spanning ancient Mesopotamia to the present day, Azzawi’s practice has long engaged with the shared histories and political ruptures of the Arab world. This exhibition, originally scheduled for 2023, unfolds as a sharp indictment of corruption across political systems, anchored in recent Iraqi events.
The main body of work reflects on the October Revolution (2019–20), the destruction of Mosul (2014–17) and Aleppo (2012–16), and the sectarian divisions that reshaped Baghdad after 2003. Together, these works extend Azzawi’s ongoing commitment to memorialising injustice and giving voice to victims of oppression. Alongside these pieces, the artist introduces charcoal drawings from the series Night of Extermination (2023), created at the onset of the genocide in Gaza, and a new daftar (artist’s book), Gaza: The Pain that Opened My Daughter’s Eyes (2025). With these additions, Azzawi positions the Palestinian struggle within a wider narrative of violence and resistance, underlining how injustice in one place resonates as injustice against all. In this article, Selections spoke with the artist about the exhibition’s significance and the role of art in times of political crisis.
This exhibition was initially planned for October 2023 but was postponed due to the outbreak of the war in Gaza. How do you feel now that it is finally taking place two years later in Beirut?
First, I believe Beirut is beginning to reclaim its position as a cultural and artistic hub for Arab artists. For this reason, I felt it was important to go ahead with the exhibition, even after two years. I also decided to add to this show a collection of charcoal drawings I created for Gaza right after the start of the war which, to me, strengthens False Witnesses by reflecting what I feel towards the current events in the region.
I am very happy to be back in Beirut because I do not think I could find another place that carries the same cultural weight as this gallery. And I am not speaking in terms of its physical space or the services it provides, but rather the significance of holding the exhibition in Beirut itself, which gives it a profound cultural value. I have been coming to Beirut since the 1960s and the 1990s, and now again in the 2020s, it feels like a return to a place that has always been part of my journey.
Given the current situation in the region, what role do you think art can play in such times?
As an artist, and in a sense as an Arab intellectual with a moral responsibility, I see my role as documenting what is happening around me: the destruction, the killings, and the wasted opportunities for young people. I do this with the hope that one day we can live in diverse societies where human rights are respected. Sadly, these have become dreams, as political indicators suggest the region is moving towards even greater challenges.
Nevertheless, I hope we will eventually overcome them and build free, prosperous societies. The region has the resources, expertise, and natural wealth to become among the best in the world. Art, meanwhile, can only record what is happening and attempt to offer a counterbalance: to create, as much as possible, a beautiful world that contains joy, gentleness, and light. Because ultimately, we need beauty around us, something that respects aesthetic value and gives people a measure of happiness.
What works have you chosen to feature in the exhibition, and how do they reflect Iraq’s political realities?
The exhibition is divided into two sections. One part focuses on the political events in Iraq when the Americans came to “reform” the regime, based on false information provided by some opposition figures at the time. This misinformation led to the destruction of Iraq and the collapse of society. Out of this devastation came groups of young people who organised peaceful protests against the ruling powers. These demonstrations lasted four to five months and brought together youth from different areas, but they were met with violence and persecution. Around 730 young people were killed, most of them poor or from marginalised neighbourhoods in Baghdad. One of the central works here is Paradise of the Forgotten, which depicts these martyrs and their families. Behind the painting are the names of all 730 victims, together with the dates of their deaths.
The second section addresses what followed; the rise of hardline Islamist groups who occupied Mosul and surrounding areas, and the destruction that came with their defeat. When Iraqi forces reclaimed the city, the old centre and one of Mosul’s most important landmarks were destroyed. One mural represents this devastation, linking what happened in Mosul to the destruction of Aleppo. Another work draws from maps made at Columbia University that show Baghdad before and after 2003: once a city of mixed neighbourhoods, it became sharply divided along sectarian lines. The exhibition also includes mural sculptures inspired by the desert rose. For me, these are flowers of remembrance for those who fell during the October uprising in Iraq.
What are your future plans? What are you currently working on?
I am preparing for a major exhibition next spring at the Bahrain Museum, presenting a body of work I have developed over the last five years. This exhibition reflects my deep longing to return, as I have been living in England for fifty years. In this sense, it expresses my desire to reconnect with and contribute to the cultural life of Arab society.
Location: Saleh Barakat Gallery, Beirut, Lebanon
Date: 11 September until 31 October, 2025
About Dia al-Azzawi
Dia al-Azzawi is an Iraqi artist born in 1939, known for his work that spans painting, sculpture, and printmaking. His practice often reflects on the political and social upheavals of the Arab world, with a particular focus on the history and impact of conflicts in Iraq and the wider region. Al-Azzawi’s work is characterised by its engagement with themes of memory, loss, and resistance, often incorporating historical references and symbols. Throughout his career, he has remained committed to documenting the effects of war and oppression, while exploring the complex relationships between culture, identity, and politics.