THE CHALLENGE IN IRAQ

 

 Artículo de “The Economist” del 7-4-04



It was one of the worst weeks so far. But it would still be wrong to write Iraq off

 

Por su interés y relevancia, he seleccionado el artículo que sigue para incluirlo en este sitio web. (L. B.-B.)

 

PLAINLY, it is bad. For the first time in more than a year of occupation, the Americans find themselves in armed conflict with a well-organised militia of Shias, the 60% or so of Iraqis who were repressed especially brutally by Saddam Hussein and had hitherto seemed willing if not entirely happy to co-operate with his removers. If this fight continues or spreads, the Americans and their allies will indeed, as all the pundits say, be facing an insurgency on two fronts. Having failed to subdue the minority Sunnis, some of whom have spent many months in open rebellion in the so-called “Sunni Triangle” west of the capital, the occupiers would also have to contend with a Shia uprising in Baghdad and in the south (see article). This is a grim prospect. But does it amount, as Senator Edward Kennedy says, to “George Bush's Vietnam”? And is Iraq on the brink of a “civil war”? Not yet, on both scores.

 

The United States spent a decade in Vietnam and lost some 50,000 soldiers. The conquest and occupation of Iraq have so far claimed just over 600 Americans. Although this was a bloody spell—eight American soldiers were killed in the fight at the start of the week against Muqtada al-Sadr's Shia militia, then a dozen more in fighting with Sunnis—the rate at which Americans have been dying has nevertheless dropped since November. Nor is it just the discrepancy in the numbers that makes the Vietnam analogy misleading. Vietnam has come to symbolise the futility of expecting brute force to prop up a foreign regime that is not supported by its own people. Just conceivably, this could still happen in Iraq if the Americans are foolish enough to create an Iraqi government so unpopular that it can enforce its will only at the point of an American gun. But that is neither what the Americans plan to do, nor—probably—what they will be forced to do.

Over the past year, Paul Bremer, Iraq's American administrator, has changed his plans so many times that Iraqis themselves, let alone spectators from afar, can be forgiven for being confused about what the Americans are currently proposing. This lack of clarity is one of the many failures of the occupation so far. However, the point to remember is that under the present plan Iraq is heading in the reasonably near future for a series of elections. The first, to elect a National Assembly, must take place no later than the end of January 2005. This body is supposed to write a constitution and submit it to a referendum no later than mid-October of that year. By mid-December, a government is to be elected under the new constitution.

Once the Iraqis have elected their own government, the danger of replaying Vietnam in the sands of Iraq should recede. Even if such a government were later to prove deadlocked or unstable, its emergence would permit an honourable enough American exit. That is to say, a President Bush or Kerry could in conscience declare at such a point that America had given Iraq its democratic opportunity and summon the troops back home. So in practical terms, the question of whether the Americans can “succeed” in Iraq boils down to this. Is America willing and able to hold the ring for the year and a half or so until that election takes place?

The honest answer is that success is not certain. It is all too easy after this nerve-jangling week to imagine a sequence of events in which the occupiers become so unpopular that the coalition forces are compelled to quit early, leaving Iraqis to sort or fight things out for themselves. Even if matters do not reach that pass, the violence might swell to a level that prevents the holding of a fair election on the Americans' timetable. The uncertainty, however, cuts both ways; if success is not certain, failure is not guaranteed either. Many a country awash in violence has nonetheless managed the transition to democracy. South Africa, which is celebrating ten years of it this week, was in the early 1990s embroiled in a vicious three-cornered struggle between whites, Zulus and Xhosas. And if you look carefully at Iraq, there are still reasons for optimism.

One is that Iraq is not yet gripped by anything that can be properly described as a civil war. It may be scant comfort for the Americans, but it is their troops rather than fellow Iraqis who have become the target of choice for the country's insurgents. This is something of a surprise. Before last year's invasion, the fear of many outsiders was that an Iraq freed from Saddam's iron fist would splinter three ways as Kurds, Sunnis and Shias battled each other for independence (in the case of the Kurds) or supremacy (in the case of the Sunnis and Shias). For the time being, however, Iraqis have stubbornly resisted the expected trifurcation. Not even the terrible bombings during the Ashoura festival last month, which killed some 200 Shias, succeeded in provoking the anti-Sunni backlash the perpetrators were presumably hoping for.

 

The spiritual leader and the upstart

Calculation rather than docility explains this forbearance. Many Iraqis appear to believe that a peaceful transition to democracy serves their own interests. Despite loose talk of Iraq falling into anarchy, polls suggest that most Iraqis think that their lot has improved since the fall of the dictator, and will continue to improve. This expectation of better times to come is a precious asset that Mr Bremer must not squander as the transition unfolds. Another is the belief of the Shias, guided by their spiritual leader Grand Ayatollah Ali Sistani, that as the majority they have much to gain from democracy. Until this month, Mr Bremer had made a great point of keeping Mr Sistani reasonably happy: it was at the ayatollah's behest that America dropped its plan to use caucuses to select a constitution-writing body and proposed a direct election instead.

Now the challenge for Mr Bremer is to find a way to ensure that his broad alliance with the Shias survives this week's clashes with the militia commanded by Mr Sadr. Having missed earlier opportunities either to co-opt this firebrand or to smack him down, the Americans have pronounced him an “outlaw” to be arrested. Perhaps this was necessary for the coalition to save face in the teeth of Mr Sadr's provocation and incitement, but it still entails taking a risk. Though the young Mr Sadr is a junior cleric compared with the revered Mr Sistani, the latter has no divisions whereas the former commands a disciplined militia that has flexed its muscles from Baghdad to Basra. And though in private Mr Sistani doubtless considers Mr Sadr a reckless upstart, not even Mr Sistani will take America's side if Mr Bremer's troops kill too many Shias when they take the upstart on. Like many a proconsul before him, Mr Bremer faces the delicate task, more political art than political science, of showing just enough toughness to command respect, while refraining from actions that turn more hearts and minds against him.

Part of the same calculation is whether to let the latest violence derail the plan to hand over power before the end of June to an interim Iraqi administration that is likely to emerge from the existing American-appointed Governing Council. On the evidence so far, Mr Bush's declared intention to stick to the deadline is right. America has chopped and changed its plans often enough. To do so again simply because of a new spurt of violence would look indecisive and weak, even though this vaunted transfer of power will be a pretty notional affair. The occupying authority intends to dissolve itself, and the American presence will shrink to an embassy. But it will be an embassy like no other, pretending to defer to Iraq's interim government while issuing orders to America's occupying army and therefore still calling most of the shots.

It is this period—after the birth of an interim government and before proper elections—that is likely to be the decisive one for Iraq. Though largely a creature of the Americans, the interim government will include representatives of most of the country's sects and political movements. It has the potential to earn respect, prepare the ground for elections and make the occupation feel less like an occupation. Only if it fails, and has to depend increasingly on American firepower to impose its authority, will Iraq really begin to resemble Vietnam.