Skip to content Skip to footer
|

As Iraq Unravels, US Repeats Mistakes

The US invasion essentially created sectarian politics in Iraq. Airstrikes will not mold Iraq into a stable or inclusive state, which is what is necessary.

August 11, 2014: President Obama gives an update on the most recent military and political developments in Iraq. (Screen grab via Whitehouse.gov)

August 11, 2014: President Obama gives an update on the most recent military and political developments in Iraq. (Screen grab<a href=via Whitehouse.gov)” width=”400″ height=”243″ />August 11, 2014: President Obama gives an update on the most recent military and political developments in Iraq. (Screen grab via Whitehouse.gov)On August 11, Iraqi President Fuad Masum named Haider al-Abadi the prime minister. Special forces loyal to incumbent Nouri al-Maliki have deployed in Baghdad, and the stage has been set for yet another episode in the country’s unfolding tragedy of violence. Against this backdrop, US President Barack Obama praised Abadi’s appointment as “a promising step forward.”

This is premature and misguided praise for a man that many Iraqis see as another iteration of Maliki, albeit with fresh potential. Yet in a country where continuity is often masked by false promises of change, the nomination of a new prime minister should be met with a critical eye. The corruption at the top of Baghdad’s political hierarchies, and the histories behind its origins, highlight a deeper reality. Politicians like Abadi, who represent – as Maliki did in 2006 – a community of Iraqi elites forced to flee persecution under Saddam Hussein, reinforce the sectarian narrative that has torn Iraq apart.

Surely, Maliki has to go. His divisive policies were largely responsible for sparking the current crisis, alienating Sunni communities, the autonomous Kurdistan region (KRG), and his Shiite allies. Yet he is not the problem, but rather a manifestation of a larger reliance on sectarian narratives used to establish legitimacy for a group of returned exiles without the local knowledge or support necessary to represent the Iraqi citizenry. Since 2003, politics have been sectarianized with visibly disastrous results. This sectarianization of political realities has displaced secular, pluralistic, and local dialogues needed to confront current threats.

To understand the facts of Iraq’s tragedy, it is important to know a bit of history. In 2003, a political system was established based on the idea that Iraqis were divided into categories – Sunni, Shiite, and Kurd. Any Iraqi democratic process had to revolve around these three factions. Shiite opposition groups, who did not hide their sect’s identity, came to power propounding a narrative of victimhood under Saddam. This claim provoked a strong reaction from the Sunni community, which did not know any political organization outside the Baath Party. But these Shiite groups were organized and knew how to play politics.

Nonetheless, few Iraqis knew these new Shiite politicians. Many had been in exile for over 30 years. Names that have since become synonymous with post-invasion Iraq – the Dawa Party, Ahmed Chalabi, the Supreme Council, Ayed Allawi, and of course, Nouri al-Maliki – were all unknown on the capital’s streets. These groups needed to build a constituency quickly, and the easiest way to achieve this goal was by mobilizing a sectarian narrative. They claimed victimhood, pointing out that they had been prevented from ruling their country by the Sunni Baath minority. A new Iraq, they argued, should be constructed in which the majority Shiites would govern. This rhetoric managed to attract followers, and represented the politicization of a Shiite identity that had not previously existed.

A similar process of Sunnification took place as a natural response. Sunni groups reinvented their identities against the new interlopers. The Shiite victimhood that existed under Saddam was replaced by Sunni victimhood after 2003. Radical Islamist groups flourished in this environment, which lacked any inter-communal communication. Ultimately, the abstract idea of community, rather than interaction between these groups and the leaders that supposedly represent them, has emerged to dominate Iraq’s political landscape.

American policy makers adopted this narrative wholeheartedly, grouping the country into Sunni, Shiite, and Kurdish blocs. When the Coalition Provisional Authority established the first Iraqi governing body – the Interim Governing Council – they chose members based on their proportion of the Iraqi population.

Today this legacy is all-powerful. Iraq’s new Prime Minister Abadi – assuming he can wrestle control from Maliki – is another representative of the foreign Iraqi community running Baghdad, having lived as an exile in Britain. It is troubling that international leaders are unable to understand the history driving this moment. Their blindness to the roots of Iraq’s political problems illustrates a profound misunderstanding of the ways in which government and governed interact in a country where dialogue is the only viable road to stability.

Yet, instead of studying this story, analysts are turning to the tired ethno-sectarian model for state partition – by which Iraq divides into three semi-autonomous Sunni, Shiite, and Kurdish states – that is at the root of the problem. Iraq’s problems are not religious, but rather the result of politicians using religious rhetoric to penetrate the souls of those without the will to look any further.

Stability can only be born from the creation of pluralistic, civilian-led national institutions that affirm the legal equality of each Iraqi. A truly representative army, not what had become essentially a pro-Maliki Shiite militia, is also critical. To confront challenges from foreign cancers like the Islamic State of Iraq and Syria (ISIS), Iraq needs armed forces in which all citizens feel invested.

Unfortunately, leaders both in Washington and Baghdad seem unwilling to pursue the hard discussions that could produce these dual necessities. Airstrikes will not mold Iraq into a stable or inclusive state. At the root of this laziness is ignorance of history. Yet, by declaring his support for the new Iraqi prime minister, Obama may have replicated the conditions that produced Maliki in the first place.

We’re not backing down in the face of Trump’s threats.

As Donald Trump is inaugurated a second time, independent media organizations are faced with urgent mandates: Tell the truth more loudly than ever before. Do that work even as our standard modes of distribution (such as social media platforms) are being manipulated and curtailed by forces of fascist repression and ruthless capitalism. Do that work even as journalism and journalists face targeted attacks, including from the government itself. And do that work in community, never forgetting that we’re not shouting into a faceless void – we’re reaching out to real people amid a life-threatening political climate.

Our task is formidable, and it requires us to ground ourselves in our principles, remind ourselves of our utility, dig in and commit.

As a dizzying number of corporate news organizations – either through need or greed – rush to implement new ways to further monetize their content, and others acquiesce to Trump’s wishes, now is a time for movement media-makers to double down on community-first models.

At Truthout, we are reaffirming our commitments on this front: We won’t run ads or have a paywall because we believe that everyone should have access to information, and that access should exist without barriers and free of distractions from craven corporate interests. We recognize the implications for democracy when information-seekers click a link only to find the article trapped behind a paywall or buried on a page with dozens of invasive ads. The laws of capitalism dictate an unending increase in monetization, and much of the media simply follows those laws. Truthout and many of our peers are dedicating ourselves to following other paths – a commitment which feels vital in a moment when corporations are evermore overtly embedded in government.

Over 80 percent of Truthout‘s funding comes from small individual donations from our community of readers, and the remaining 20 percent comes from a handful of social justice-oriented foundations. Over a third of our total budget is supported by recurring monthly donors, many of whom give because they want to help us keep Truthout barrier-free for everyone.

You can help by giving today. Whether you can make a small monthly donation or a larger gift, Truthout only works with your support.