Iraq: Faces of Resistance

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And yet while expressions of Sunni anger are common in Iraq, identifying the precise sources of that anger and what it will take to defuse them remains a huge challenge. Though a numerical minority in Iraq, the Sunnis have ruled the country for centuries, giving them a strong sense of entitlement--and an equally powerful resentment at their abruptly reduced status. Sunni leaders couch their demands in politically correct language, citing specific grievances and mistreatment by the Shi'ite majority, but in private they argue that Iraq would not be experiencing its current convulsions had the U.S. left the Sunnis in charge. Nazer al-Koudsi, a Sunni political activist in Baghdad, voices a common Sunni perception when he describes the current government as "a mix of Shi'ite fanatics from the south and Kurdish traitors from the north, none of whom have any experience in ruling Iraq." In that view, the Sunnis are the preordained ruling class, groomed for the task under Ottoman and British colonial tutelage, while the Shi'ite majority are ignorant, superstitious rabble.

The Sunnis' belief in their natural right to rule makes the current reality all the more depressing. At the Abu Hanifa mosque, al-Bayati and Abdel-Haadi bemoan the Sunni plight. "Look at how we live now, like prisoners," says al-Bayati. Outside the mosque, the Adhamiya district has fallen silent at 8 p.m., a contrast with Ramadans past, when the neighborhood came alive at the end of the day's fasting. Now, few Sunnis dare step out for fear of harassment by Iraqi security forces made up mainly of Shi'ites. The security measures are probably warranted: Adhamiya has a history of harboring Sunni insurgents. But locals don't see it that way. "We are being singled out," says Abdel-Haadi. "If you are a Sunni, the government automatically assumes you must be a terrorist."

The Sunni sense of victimhood is not entirely imaginary: Iraqi police and security forces are certainly guilty of profiling. Hundreds of innocent Sunnis have been detained in antiterrorist sweeps and later released without apology. In recent weeks, Sunni groups have complained that people picked up by the Interior Ministry's special forces have been turning up dead, their bodies bearing signs of torture and execution. The assassinations of many Sunnis have been attributed to Shi'ite death squads; the government seems to be doing nothing to investigate, much less apprehend, the guilty. "Sunnis feel that they are not being provided the protection of the state," says Mukhlis, the Sunni politician, "and instead the state is protecting their killers."

But while the Sunnis are swift to air their grievances and point to everything that's wrong with the government, few have articulated an alternative, democratic vision for Iraq. Community leaders have not yet figured how they can best fit into the new order. They have a strong sense of what they don't want--a government that's run by Shi'ite religious parties, a constitution that weakens the center and hands more power to non-Sunni provinces, the presence of foreign soldiers on Iraqi soil. But their ability to push their interests was damaged by their boycott of the January election. It gave the Shi'ites and Kurds disproportionate influence over the drafting of the constitution, which Sunni leaders have refused to support.