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Iraqis warm up to tangled world of local politics
When millions of Iraqis went to the polls on Jan. 30, they also voted for candidates for local councils in Iraq's 18 provinces.
If Iraq's national politics can seem a little baffling, then best avoid the local variety.
When millions of Iraqis went to the polls on Jan. 30 to elect a National Assembly, choosing from a confusing list of 111 parties and coalitions, they also voted for candidates for local councils in Iraq's 18 provinces.
Some of the same parties contesting the national vote were on the local ballot, but mostly the provincial poll involved an array of special interest groups anxious to plunge into the murky world of post-Saddam Hussein politics.
This week, some of those parties and factions gathered to discuss their plans in the office of the governor of Maysan province. Iraq's poorest region, it lies on the southeastern edge of the country along the border with Iran.
From men in ill-fitting suits and ties to bearded Marsh Arabs and turbaned clerics in flowing robes, they streamed into the governor's mansion, known as the Pink Palace, to meet visiting foreign journalists.
Some came with fliers printed on brightly coloured paper outlining their policies, while others expounded without notes from the comforts of the governor's sofa. Others sat enigmatically in the corner.
"We are interested in creating jobs," said Mohammed al-Silawi, a Shi'ite cleric from the Dawa Movement, who was quick to distinguish his party from the Dawa Party, Islamic Dawa and the Dawa Islamic Party, splinters of the same group whose members gathered on a nearby sofa.
He said he hoped to have won one seat on the 40-seat local council. Official results have yet to be announced.
DIVIDED LOYALTIES
Despite its lack of polish, local government may be as important in overcoming Iraq's bloody insurgency as national politics.
Mohan Abdullah Sultan al-Jabiri, otherwise known as Abu Miriam, was introduced by a British military officer who had helped set up the gathering.
"He used to be part of the insurgency," the officer whispered in a reporter's ear before making introductions.
Jabari, wearing a traditional chequered scarf on his head and a toothy smile on his face, announced that he was part of Harakat Hizbollah.
Asked about his policies, he paused and then consulted a folder in his arms. Flipping it open, he unselfconsciously began reading from a green pamphlet.
"We are against terrorism and we have a very good relationship with multi-national forces," he said, the British officer still standing within earshot. "We are making peace wherever we can."
On the other side of the governor's mock-palatial office sat three intense-looking young men in 1980s suits and ties, a small throng gathered around them, firing questions.
They were from the Hussein Ideology Party, apparently unknown to British officials until the election, when partial results show they won more than a third of the vote.
There were some suspicions that they are a front for Moqtada al-Sadr, a rebellious young cleric who rose up against coalition forces last year and has denounced the democratic process.
But Hussein Ideology were having none of it. "We are nothing to do with Sadr, we are supporters of his father," said one of the men, apparently disconcerted by the journalists' ignorance.
Clear as that was to him, it didn't go down very well with three other parties in the room also claiming to represent the thinking of Sadr's father, a revered cleric killed by Saddam.
