News of warring clans
As the country prepares to go to the polls next month, Yehia Said reports from Baghdad on a society which is turning against itself
We were driving home with friends on my first night in Baghdad. Suddenly we stumbled on a US ambush in the middle of a dark ally. Their laser sights bouncing off us the way they do in action movies, the soldiers began to wave unintelligible signs. The driver was confused and thought she should drive closer to be searched -- a mistake which has cost many an Iraqi their lives. After a lot of panicked screaming and confusion we drove off, shaken but unscathed. We were not among the two dozen Iraqis who did not make it home that day. The father of a student we met the next day was shot by the Americans in an incident not unlike ours, and scores were blown to pieces by insurgent bombs aimed directly at them or at US troops. A dozen workers heading for a construction job in Tikrit were executed in cold blood by terrorists associated either with Al- Qaeda or the Baathists. More than 200 people died during my one week stay. A significant proportion of the violence is criminal -- carjacking, hostage taking, highway robbery and plain murder. The security vacuum created by the insurgency and the counter-insurgency is proving a manna for opportunistic criminals.
Everyone speaks of death in the most casual terms. People leave home fully aware that they may not make it through the day. The thought seems to energise some. My friend Rabii who I met last week is one of them. An artist and film producer who returned from exile a year ago, she has just finished work on a three-hour TV programme for children. She is keen to get as much as possible done each day, as there may not be another. She sees every project, celebration, or even just a day at work, as an act of defiance, a victory over death. Baghdad is full of people like Rabii -- some are activists, some government employees, others are students, or policemen. But all of them are people who commit an act of heroism just by walking out the door each morning.
Over the six months since my last visit, there has been a great backlash against the violence. People seem receptive to Prime Minster Iyad Allawi's version of the "war on terror", even as it fails to produce any tangible results. There is grudging support, especially among the urban middle classes, for the attacks on Najaf, Sadr City and particularly Falluja, which has acquired a demonic image of torture dungeons, bomb factories, Saddam Hussein loyalists and Islamic extremists. These people are desperate for anything that may stop the killings, even at the cost of more deaths first, including their own.
Sheikh Hussein Al-Zawbaii has turned his mosque on the campus of Baghdad University into a refugee camp for 150 families fleeing the fighting in Falluja. He seemed to thrive in his role coordinating the provision of food, shelter, healthcare, education and money to the refugees. As we sat in his living quarters, the stream of visitors never stopped. Some were refugees asking far an extra blanket or a handout, others were volunteers offering their homes, money, clothes, food or other services.
The refugees tell horror stories about their devastated town. They speak fondly of "our Mujahidin". They insist that they were only defending their homes and their honour, and that they would have killed Al-Zarqawi themselves if they could. Sheikh Al-Zawbaii goes further and claims that the insurgents are defending the country's honour, and that if it were not for the resistance, the Americans would never leave.
The attack on Falluja has produced 220,000 refugees, according to UN estimates, now scattered in many Iraqi towns. According to Sheikh Al-Zawbaii, there are 11 camps like the one I visited in Baghdad alone. Given the continuing fighting, and the destruction visited upon their city, there is a real chance that they will never return home. The refugees feel betrayed by their fellow citizens who did not come to their rescue. Over a month since the assault, the government is still failing to provide for the people whom it has made homeless. The plight of these refugees is simultaneously a tragedy, and a sign of political failure.
But the voice of the Falluja refugees is hardly heard, when across the country the preparations for the elections have sparked a frenzy of activity. But instead of channelling existing tensions into a peaceful process, the elections seem simply to have added a new layer of acrimony. There are Kurdish and Shia Party lists. The latter are keen to hold the elections on time, in order to steal a march on other less well-prepared groups. They warn they might "abandon the political process" if the elections are postponed -- a thinly veiled threat of launching another insurgency. Meanwhile, parties which represent themselves as Sunni are calling for the elections to be postponed, so that they can prepare better. They warn that sectarian civil war may break out if their constituency is not given a chance to participate adequately. I attended a meeting hosted by these groups which descended into chaos when one of the speakers said that things had been better under Saddam. Those groups who continue to resist sectarian categorisation are splintered into half a dozen lists, some of which are for, and some against postponing the elections. The prime minister says he wants to see the elections go ahead on time, while hinting that he may be persuaded to postpone. After the Kurds and Shia went their separate ways, his only major coalition partner is the group around President Al-Yawar. Such a list is unlikely to do well in the elections, despite the prime minister's popularity among the urban middle classes. In this context, Allawi may be expected to incline towards postponing the elections.
A number of influential groups are boycotting the elections altogether. They include the Council of Muslim Clerics, Al-Sadr Group, the Arab Nationalist Current and the Baathists. Despite significant differences between them, all these groups share a discourse of resisting the occupation and what they view as its puppet government. They speak of the illegitimacy of elections held under occupation and while the current onslaught on insurgents in Falluja and elsewhere continues. They question the independence of the electoral commission appointed by former proconsul Bremer. Even these groups, however, seem to be taking care not to abandon the political process all together. Some of them, such as the clerics and the nationalists, have stated the conditions under which they would be prepared to participate in the elections, indicating at least some opening for dialogue. Others, like Al-Sadr and the Baathists, are likely to field some candidates when the day comes. The Baathists are even believed to be in talks with the prime minister and other pro-government factions. Most these groups have been touring Arab and world capitals in an apparent bid to apply pressure on the government.
It is hard to imagine fair and free elections taking place across Iraq with only a few weeks remaining until 30 January. The deadline for registering lists and political parties is periodically pushed forward. Voter registration forms are yet to be delivered in parts of Anbar, Diala, Slah Aldeen, Nineveh and Baghdad provinces. There are hardly any candidates on the ballot who could represent the sectarian composition of the voters in these areas, let alone the anti-occupation mood of voters across the country. Even the more popular candidates, including community and tribal leaders, are hidden deep within elections lists headed by discredited politicians from the main parties.
Insurgents are bound to attack election officials, candidates and voters, and there are simply not enough Iraqi Police and National Guardsmen to protect each of the 30,000 polling station. Protection by the occupying troops, on the other hand, would only be counterproductive, as it would highlight the image of an election under occupation and thus invite more attacks.
It is also hard to imagine what a postponement would bring. Those calling for it are demanding a series of measures including, most importantly, a national reconciliation drive, which would hopefully lead to a more benign political and security environment for the elections -- a tall order for the current Iraqi government and political classes alike. In this context, the waiting period may just extend the uncertainty, further reduce the legitimacy of the current government as it continues to operate beyond its legal mandate, and provide an opportunity for insurgents to sow more chaos.
The wrangling over the elections is the more sterile as few seem to have bothered yet to articulate a political agenda that might reflect the competing interests within Iraqi society. In the mean time, these interests continue to be expressed through violence. The despair of those who felt that they had no alternative but to support the attack on Falluja, and the despair of those who suffered the consequences of the attack itself, carry within themselves the seeds of civil strife even more powerfully than does the sectarian discourse of the political classes. Iraqi society seems to be turning on itself, divided into Shakespearean tribes unable to communicate with each other despite their closeness and shared destiny. Meanwhile, the Iraqi political elites who are flinging accusations of terrorism at one side and collaboration at the other are failing their people when they need them most.