For forty days, Iraq’s skies were empty. No airliners climbed out of Baghdad. No cargo flights departed Basra. No pilgrims flew into Najaf. The entire country’s airspace — closed since February 28, when the first American and Israeli strikes hit Iran — went silent in a way it hadn’t since the 2003 invasion. On April 8, the Iraqi Civil Aviation Authority announced it was reopening everything: Baghdad International, Erbil, Basra, Najaf, and Sulaimaniyah. The trigger was a two-week ceasefire between the United States, Israel, and Iran, announced the day before. But reopening a country’s airspace is not the same as filling it with aircraft. On the first day, only a handful of flights appeared on Flightradar24 — almost all of them Iraqi Airways.

The Airlines Are Not Convinced

The gap between Iraq’s announcement and airline behaviour tells the real story. Iraqi Airways resumed immediately — it had no choice, as the national carrier. But Turkish Airlines, one of the largest international operators into Iraq, extended its suspension through late April. Other carriers pushed their return dates even further. The reason is simple: a two-week ceasefire is not peace. It is a pause. Negotiations between the United States and Iran are scheduled to begin in Islamabad on April 10, and nobody in the airline industry is confident those talks will produce a lasting agreement. If they collapse, airspace closures could return with little notice, potentially stranding aircraft and passengers. For airlines, the calculus is brutally pragmatic. Routing flights into a country whose airspace might close again in two weeks means risking diversions, stranded crews, and the logistical nightmare of extracting passengers from a war-adjacent zone. Most carriers have decided the commercial upside of resuming Iraqi routes does not justify the operational risk — at least not yet.

40 Days of Economic Damage

The 40-day closure inflicted damage far beyond the aviation sector. Baghdad and Erbil, both of which had been building momentum as regional business and tourism hubs, saw international visitor numbers collapse. Cargo flights that carried Iraqi dates, oilfield equipment, and commercial goods to Gulf markets were grounded. The hospitality industry, already fragile, lost weeks of peak-season bookings. Iraq’s Civil Aviation Authority head, Bengin Rekani, framed the reopening as a step toward restoring economic normalcy. But normalcy requires traffic, and traffic requires airlines to believe the ceasefire will hold. On April 8, they did not.

Kuwait Still Shut

Iraq’s reopening stands in contrast to its neighbour. Kuwait International Airport remained closed on April 8, with no confirmed reopening date. The damage there is physical, not just procedural. Iranian drone strikes hit Kuwait’s airport perimeter on February 28, damaging Terminal 1. Further strikes on March 12 and 14 disabled radar installations. The most recent attack, on April 1, targeted fuel storage tanks belonging to the Kuwait Aviation Fuel Company, igniting a large fire that has since been contained but left critical infrastructure offline. Kuwait Airways has arranged limited repatriation flights routing through King Fahd International Airport in Dammam, Saudi Arabia — a workaround that underscores how completely the drone campaign has shut down one of the Gulf’s busiest airports. Optimistic projections point to gradual resumption after mid-April, pending full radar and fuel system repairs. But no one is making promises.

A Ceasefire, Not a Peace

The broader picture is sobering. Iraq’s airspace reopened because two countries agreed to stop shooting at each other for fourteen days. That is the foundation on which commercial aviation — an industry built on predictability and long-term planning — is being asked to resume operations. If the Islamabad talks produce a framework for a lasting ceasefire, airlines will return. Routes will refill. Baghdad’s airport will hum again. If the talks fail, the skies over Iraq could go silent for a second time — and convincing airlines to come back after two closures will be exponentially harder than after one. Forty days of empty skies left a mark. How long it takes to erase depends on what happens in a conference room in Pakistan this week. Sources: Iraqi News, IBTimes, Airline Ratings, Voice of Emirates, Al Jazeera