The first thing you notice is the color black. In Sadr City, on the outskirts of Baghdad, black flags and black banners are fluttering. Clergymen wear pious black robes. The black symbolizes the mourning, in August this year, of Shia Muslims for the death of Imam Hussein, one and a half millennium ago.
In one of the dusty streets of the slum you will find the Fayadh family, also dressed completely in black. Not because of the imam, but because one of her sons was killed in gunfights in central Baghdad last Monday. The father of the house, Jaber Fayadh (72), has been mourning for three days. He wipes his eyes dry and says, “Why would someone kill our children?”
The family swears that their 48-year-old son was unarmed. He had only come to demonstrate. Nobody has to think long about the question of guilt, even if no investigation has been carried out so soon after the events. “We know the shooter was an Iranian,” the father says, sitting on a carpet in the reception area. “No Iraqi would shoot at his countrymen.”
Other family members will add nuance that it was not about Iranians, but about pro-Iranian militias, but that is currently an afterthought in Sadr City. The atmosphere in the country is charged: more than ten months ago, citizens were allowed to vote in parliamentary elections, but that did not lead to a cabinet. The man who came out on top, politician and cleric Muqtada al-Sadr, refuses to share power with the other Shia parties. The result is a crippling stalemate that could turn into violence at any moment.
eastern neighbour
This was also the case at the beginning of this week, when at least 34 people were killed in armed clashes between the Shia factions (Shiites make up the largest religious group in the country with more than 60 percent). A fierce power struggle has been unfolding between their leaders for months. Besides vulgar influence, jobs and money flows, the battle is also about geopolitics: how should the country relate to its powerful eastern neighbor Iran?
If you ask that question in Sadr City, the answer comes from the repertoire of Muqtada al-Sadr, the man after whose father the neighborhood was named. Sadr is a nationalist. He wants more distance from Iran and says he strives for a government that is neither ‘Western’ (read: pro-America) nor ‘Eastern’ (pro-Iran) oriented. A leader from his movement this week called on Tehran to restrain its ‘camels’, targeting the pro-Iranian parties.
“We want a strong and stable country,” said Ammar Fayadh, the dead’s 42-year-old brother and a staunch Sadr supporter. “A country ruled by Iraqis, not by outsiders.” It is a sentiment that is more widespread, and not just in Sadr City. Three years ago, Iraq experienced one of the largest waves of protest in years and slogans were heard all over the country: against corruption, against Iran. Students protested the erection of statues to Iranian army commanders. The Iranian consulate in the city of Basra went up in flames.
‘Nurid watan’, was the slogan: we want a homeland. Nearly twenty years after the US invasion (2003), Iraqis are tired of serving as chessmen in a game between superpowers. Iran, in particular, was able to take advantage of the power vacuum that arose in the aftermath of the American occupation. The protest movement offered hope, but was eventually hijacked by Sadr for his own ends. Pro-Iranian militias violently crushed the movement.
Founder
When you enter Sadr City, you see a life-size billboard of a man with an impressive white beard along the road. Nickname: The White Lion. It is the father of Muqtada, Mohammed Sadiq al-Sadr, the founder of the movement. Even in his time, when dictator (and Sunni) Saddam Hussein was in power, Iran was a divisive issue. Shia resistance against Saddam was divided: some sought protection from the ayatollahs in Tehran, while the sadrists at home continued to organize prayer services for hundreds of thousands of impoverished Shiites. When the movement became too threatening, Saddam had the old Sadr murdered in 1999.
At home with Hossameldin al-Soudani (51) it is clear that this gap continues to this day. ‘As sadrists we are one family, with the late sayyid Sadiq as paterfamilias,” he says. “We are loyal only to Iraq. That doesn’t apply to the others. They don’t have that sense of belonging.’
‘They’ are the pro-Iranian factions, loosely grouped around two leaders. One is Nouri al-Maliki (once an exile in Iran), prime minister between 2006 and 2014. The other is Qais Hasan al-Khazali, frontman of the paramilitary Asa’ib Ahl al-Haq (“League of the Righteous”), which is on the list of terrorist organizations in America and was trained by the Iranians. Al-Khazali and Sadr once marched together against the American occupier, but that cooperation came to an end when Iranian money came into play. The Shia front splintered.
Sitting cross-legged, al-Soudani slips his black prayer beads through his fingers. He tells about a bosom friend with whom he spent many years. One day the friend said: I do feel something for Asa’ib. “He was seduced by money and nice cars,” al-Soudani says dejectedly. Their friendship was over. “At first I was sad, but after this week’s fights I don’t feel any remorse anymore.”
Row
Shia families are increasingly being torn apart. Sadrists write on Facebook: If you belong to the others, I want you to unfriend me. Al-Soudani himself is part of a tribe that dates back to the early days of Islam. The trunk is split. When a prominent tribal member from the pro-Iran corner was recently nominated as prime minister of Iraq, it sparked an argument in his own circle: first with words, then with weapons. The possibility of a new civil war hangs like a dark cloud over the country. Or not? Al-Soudani, laconic: ‘We leave each other alone now. Our paths will no longer cross.’
Fruitless months have passed since the parliamentary elections. None of the parties makes any move for dialogue, and Sadr’s demand (new elections) is met with a hard no from the others. The fighting early this week is seen as a harbinger of what the sadrists are capable of getting their way. It was Sadr who was in full control for 24 hours, not the army or the outgoing prime minister. As quickly as the violence started, Sadr stopped it. He has his followers on a string.
It makes him the most unpredictable man in the country, including Iran. He can lash out at the neighboring country, but at the same time has his own contacts there. Iraq relies heavily on the country economically. “As a populist, Sadr drew the anti-Iranian card mainly because he noticed that these sentiments were alive among the population,” said Marsin Alshamary, an Iraq researcher at the Harvard Kennedy School. His views can turn like a leaf on a tree.
Condolence
The Fayadh family is visited by men in three-piece suits. It is a delegation headed by a senior sadrist, the secretary general in parliament. He has come to offer his condolences, but is accused of the fact that there is still no new government. How is that possible? “Our enemies want to keep us weak,” is his reply. And to the family: ‘May God grant you patience and enlightenment.’ The men leave again.
Ammar Fayadh is proud of his brother because he died for his principles. He would do the same without hesitation. “Muqtada knows what’s good for us.” As a tribute, he has hung a portrait of his brother on the wall. It hangs between that of Sadr senior and junior.