No promised land at the end of all this Mar 4th 2010 | BAGHDAD >From The Economist print edition
Iraq, having beaten most of its insurgents, holds an election on March 7th. But its institutions may be too weak, and its politicians too greedy, to save democracy THINGS had been going well for Iraq’s footballers. They had re-established a national league, won the 2007 Asian Cup and last summer played host to their first post-Saddam international. Then, in November, a column of armoured police cars turned up at the headquarters of the Iraqi Football Association in eastern Baghdad. Uniformed men stormed the building, setting up sandbagged machinegun positions. They were acting on the orders of the Iraqi Olympic Committee, which is in the hands of Iraq’s Shia-dominated government. The Football Association is still run mainly by Sunnis. Its directors were accused of irregularities by the government and asked to give up control. When they refused, the army moved in. There is more than one way of looking at this. FIFA, the world football body, took a dim view of armed interference in the affairs of one of its members, and banned Iraq from all international competitions until the takeover was reversed. But America’s military commanders in Iraq saw progress: after all, no shots had been fired and nobody was hurt. “We used to wake up every morning with another 100 bodies in the river,” remarked General Stephen Lanza, a spokesman. Detecting an overall “maturing” of institutions along with striking improvements in security, he believes Iraq is coming right. But is it? With parliamentary elections due on Sunday March 7th, Iraq’s streets are undoubtedly safer than they were three years ago. A month or more can pass without an American killed in action and civilian casualties are at their lowest in six years—though this still means that nearly 300 civilians are dying from political violence every month. Shia militias mostly observe a ceasefire. Sunni extremists remain active and still manage to stage occasional large-scale attacks. But they have failed to reignite the widespread sectarian fighting that in the worst periods of 2006 and 2007 left 3,000 civilians dead each month. The once-notorious “al-Qaeda in Mesopotamia” has been reduced to a core that cannot be deterred or bought off. Yet it is no longer a match for the rapidly expanding army and police. By some estimates more than 1m Iraqis now wear a uniform. The government spends almost a fifth of its budget on wages for security people, and benefits from American help. Improvements in training and equipment have led to the fortification of much of the country. Baghdad alone has an estimated 1,500 checkpoints as well as hundreds of miles of cement blast-walls. The city is more militarised than it was under Saddam Hussein. Even so, life is relatively good. Public parks are full and millions of pilgrims throng to shrines on holidays. Iraq’s main problem is no longer its violence but its politics. Most state institutions have failed to improve at the same rate as the security forces. Occupying a temporary home since the defence ministry requisitioned its building, Iraq’s parliament is a glaring example. Legislation barely moves through readings and committees. A counter-terror law is 33rd on a list of 79 bills awaiting approval. A much-needed hydrocarbons law regulating the oil industry is also stalled, as are measures to sort out disputed internal borders. But the political outlook is not entirely bleak. Minorities are represented, even if the security forces cannot always protect them. The clerical establishment has stayed on the sidelines, aware of public opposition to Iranian-style theocracy. A new “open-list” electoral system helps diversity. For the first time in a general election, Iraqis on Sunday can vote for individuals rather than just parties. Still, the nature of Iraqi politics has not changed during the country’s first full parliamentary term. Party leaders aim to dispatch rivals rather than engage them. Alliances are fleeting and often end with knives in backs. The reason can be found in the roots of many of Iraq’s politicians, former exiles who for years plotted in the dark, pursued by Saddam’s agents. Today they continue to act with the zeal of the powerless. They trust no one, perpetuating a system not just Machiavellian but outright Hobbesian. Assassination is still the most likely cause of death in Iraqi politics. The state bureaucracy is no less dysfunctional. Government institutions are viewed as spoils, divided up between the parties. Iran’s main Shia allies staff the Immigration Commission. The Dawa party controls the Martyrs Organisation, which supports the families of war victims. Even the central bank and the electoral commission are partisan. The prime minister, Nuri al-Maliki, has little control over his ministries, many of which are in the hands of his rivals. Turf wars pollute everything. Why so many stakeholders? The deep distrust between the parties is one reason. On top of this there is money to be made. Iraq is the fourth-most-corrupt country in the world, according to Transparency International, a Berlin-based watchdog. A car licence plate costs $3,000 in bribes. A job as a policeman costs $5,000. To reach the rank of army colonel requires an investment of $300,000. A judgeship costs even more, given the vast opportunities to generate private income. Iraq’s citizens are the losers. They cannot rely on their government for basic infrastructure. Baghdad has no flights to Mosul, the country’s northern hub, since rival leaders are in charge there. The road south to Amara and Basra is littered with half-built flyovers, seemingly never to be finished. By the side of the road lie toppled power masts. No wonder only 25% of Iraqis get the electricity they need. The same percentage has access to adequate health care; 22% are malnourished. In world rankings of income per head, Iraq comes 162nd. Stay away, if you can Only one thing is preventing a humanitarian crisis: public-sector employment. The state accounts for three out of five jobs, and 70% of this year’s budget will be spent on salaries and pensions. Capital expenditure is rare, admits Iyad al-Samarraie, the parliament speaker. His office is decorated with gilded chairs and extravagant mouldings, ordered by his predecessor. “ This is what passes for investment,” he says. The private sector is in even worse shape. Few middle-sized businesses have emerged since the invasion. Companies are either small family affairs or sclerotic behemoths. The non-oil industries, still partly state-owned, should soak up labour. But they account for only 13% of GDP (the regional average is 33%). Mass idleness is the result. American soldiers stationed in rural areas with few government jobs say the unemployment rate there approaches 80%. The national rate is 45-47%, including the underemployed—and, because of the high birth rate, the workforce is growing by 240,000 a year. The one bright spot is foreign investment, mostly in oil. In the past three months Iraq has signed ten deals with large international companies: these may eventually double or triple Iraq’s oil revenues, the main source of state funding. Construction and service companies are also coming, mostly from neighbouring countries and Asia. But Western non-oil companies tend to stay away. Last year at the first trade fair since the invasion only three of the 396 companies were American. Security is one reason. Protecting staff and installations is estimated to increase costs by something like 25%. Even more important, executives fear “an unco-ordinated, opaque regulatory system, unclear or uncertain land titling, untested dispute-resolution mechanisms and endemic corruption,” said a recent American congressional report. Iraq ranks 153rd in the world for ease of doing business. The country should not be short of money in the future. Most of its debts, once a dark cloud, have been forgiven. In two or three years it hopes to join the World Trade Organisation. GDP annual growth is fluctuating around 5% and inflation came down from 13.6% in 2008 to 5.5% in 2009. That isn’t bad. But will the oil wealth trickle down? At present the gap between rich and poor is growing. In the middle of all this, the government is making plans for an influx of guest workers from South Asia who will clean, cook and build roads for less money than the locals. The future envisioned by Iraq’s bureaucrats is Saudi Arabian in outline. Nationals do not sweat. State cash solves all problems. Except that the Saudi bureaucracy actually works. To be fair, it is hard to build a state under fire. In the past six months car-bombs have destroyed five ministries. Insurgents are increasingly focusing on the government; they want to undermine the system by preventing it from getting things done. Even without an insurgency, systemic change is elusive. For decades Iraq was closed, corrupt and absurdly centralised. Reconstruction was always going to take time. American generals and diplomats rightly ask for patience. They themselves are working under difficult conditions—though at times they also contribute to Iraq’s dysfunction. Constant staff rotations and the involvement of more than 60 American government agencies in spending $53 billion have undermined the biggest aid project since the Marshall Plan. Blame the politicians But nobody deserves more blame for Iraq’s sorry state than its own political leaders. They were handed a chance to reconcile their differences when George Bush sent additional troops into the country three years ago, drastically reducing violence. They failed to take it. Though Iraqis are fed up with violence, the militia-leaders-cum-party-barons pay no more than lip service to the idea of reconciliation. “It’s like chewing gum,” said Muwafaq al-Rubaie, a former national-security adviser. “You work on it for a while and nothing happens, so you spit it out again.” Some measures have worked. Sunni militiamen who co-operated with American troops got government jobs as promised, even if many of them are unhappy to be employed as cleaners rather than as soldiers. Shia militias too have taken steps towards peaceful coexistence, releasing some hostages (though a recent new kidnapping and mortar fire targeting Baghdad’s secure Green Zone have called their intentions into question). The real problem is not armed resistance, which is now a fringe activity. It is the lack of co-operation at the centre. The future was always going to hinge on power-sharing between the main actors. Sunnis have to accept that as the minority sect they will play second fiddle. Equally, Shias have to refrain from taking their victory in the sectarian war as a green light to pursue maximalist aims. And the Kurds have to give up on their dream of outright independence, which could plunge Iraq into an ethnic war—a danger that General Ray Odierno, America’s commander in Iraq, calls the greatest threat to future stability. Hopes were high last year that the election would bring change. America viewed the vote as a transformative event that would solidify the calm on the streets and allow its combat troops to go home. Here was a chance for Iraqis to pick new leaders less concerned with personal and factional gain. And, to begin with, political events seemed to confirm America’s optimism, especially the break-up of the Shia parliamentary block which won power at the last election in 2005, leaving most Sunnis out in the cold. This time Shia leaders failed to form a new slate. Unable to agree on a candidate for prime minister, they broke into two big groups. Two of the three main Shia factions entered into a marriage of convenience. The Islamic Supreme Council of Iraq, which has been notably close to Iran, got together with its one-time arch enemy, Muqtada al-Sadr, a populist cleric and militia leader. The two were joined by several smaller groups and formed a Shia umbrella group, the Iraqi National Alliance. Most of its members are committed to Shia religious leadership. But many Iraqis have now turned against this vision for their country. Arab nationalism has made a comeback. Even so, this Shia grouping will still win many votes. Mr Sadr, particularly, has consistently been underestimated. He has left his militia roots behind, gained stature as a candidate for the clerical rank of mujtahid and built a formidable political machine. No theocracy wanted, thank you But the change in the public mood has given an opening to Mr Maliki, who leads the rump of the Dawa party, the third main Shia faction. Four years ago the prime minister was a nobody. His squabbling allies picked him to head the government because of his supposed weakness. But he managed to turn himself into a national leader with a strong personal following. Thanks to American help (rarely acknowledged) he was able to reduce violence and boost oil prospects. Today he presents himself as a defender of a sovereign and prosperous Iraq and promises, if re-elected, to look after Sunnis as well Shias. Two new and explicitly secular alliances are also competing in Sunday’s election. The Iraqi National Movement is led by Iyad Allawi, a former Shia prime minister, who has several substantial Sunni partners. His alliance promotes a strong and secular Arab identity and a distancing from Iran. A second nonsectarian block is led by Jawad al-Bolani, the Shia interior minister, who has joined Ahmed abu Risha, a powerful Sunni tribal leader. Their Unity Alliance promises technocratic competence and an end to corruption. The only other serious grouping on the ballot is the main Kurdish alliance. It is currently the junior partner in the Shia-led government, and unashamedly ethnic in outlook. It hopes to force Baghdad into agreeing to favourable internal borders, oil-sharing deals and constitutional guarantees for autonomy. But like the Shias, it faces opposition from within. A new Kurdish party, Goran (Change), is drawing away support by exposing abuses of power. At least three alliances have a realistic chance of nominating a prime minister: Mr Maliki’s, Mr Allawi’s and the Shia umbrella. Each is likely to get between 15% and 30% of the vote, according to Iraq’s notoriously unreliable opinion polls. The winner will need two or more coalition partners to get a majority. That points towards a government of national unity. Some Sunnis would be prepared to share power; unlike the Shias, they have failed to form even a semblance of a united front. Alas, the rising tide of post-sectarianism has its limits. Two months ago an obscure and long-defunct committee tasked with weeding out members of the Saddam regime banned more than 500 of the 6,000 candidates from the election. A few were no doubt bad eggs. But most were legitimate secularists and nationalists who were likely to do well. The committee is controlled by the Shia alliance and under Iranian influence. Heated accusations were traded for weeks. In the end, most of the barred candidates were allowed to stand or voluntarily withdrew. But in the process Sunnis threatened to boycott the poll and Shia leaders smeared their Sunni opponents as allies of the former dictator. Mr Maliki himself abandoned the secular middle ground and joined the anti-Saddamist witch hunt. Voters on both sides returned to the ever popular narrative of victimhood and revenge. Thus began a very dirty election campaign. Party staffs have been murdered and intimidated. Vote-buying is endemic. Expectations of ballot-stuffing are widespread. The reaction among voters has been apathetic or downright hostile. Few candidates have the courage to go out and bid for their votes. This is not just for security reasons. Shia voters in particular are disappointed with the whole system. Unlike Sunnis, they voted in large numbers at the last election, only to see politicians bicker and fill their own pockets. Last week the Sharqiyah television station showed a candidate approach a group of bedouins and offer them a stack of blankets as a gift. They refused, saying: “It’s you who needs them—to cover your sins.” On Sunday, voters may well decide to stay at home. Turnout is expected to be low, perhaps less than half the 19m registered voters. There is a real risk that Iraq’s democratic institutions will not survive. They are too weak and too corrupted to resolve the country’s many problems peacefully and credibly. Ambitious politicians are able to go outside the institutional framework to further their partisan aims. In their turn, people are losing faith in democracy, which seemingly does not bring results. Such instability opens the door once again to the militias. They appear to offer a shortcut to success, especially in the aftermath of the election. With their political masters soon to be locked in fractious coalition negotiations that may last for several months, they could be called on to carry out attacks aimed at influencing the division of power. Tussling politicians might then blame each other, thus creating ever more instability. A return to fully fledged sectarian warfare is not yet likely, given the heavy security presence. But there are plenty of other ways in which Iraq could slide. If left unresolved, the Arab-Kurdish conflict could pit two well-armed forces against each other. There has even been talk of a coup. The conditions are ripe: a venal elite, increasingly capable armed forces and a disaffected population wishing for stability, if need be under the sort of strongman Iraq knows only too well. Back to authoritarianism But more likely than a coup is an authoritarian takeover by politicians and generals acting together. Like many of his rivals, Mr Maliki appears capable of such a move. He has centralised control of the security services, imposed a curfew, condoned police torture, attempted to muzzle the media and deployed armed forces to influence party-political disputes. At best, Iraq can expect a continuation of the current state of affairs. Shias will further consolidate their power and occupy an archipelago of fiefs, frequently short-changing the public. Uneasy brinkmanship will be the norm. A senior government adviser puts it this way: “You should expect crisis in Iraq. This will not be a normal country, but it will not collapse either, God willing.” Iraq’s neighbours are watching nervously. The Arab states to the south may have little influence, but they have a lot to lose if the country drifts further into Iran’s orbit. Though Iran is still highly unpopular on the Iraqi street, it has deep roots in the political class, diligently expanded over the years. Even Mr Maliki, who has long leaned towards America, has recently toed an Iranian line, supporting the Tehran-led purge of candidates supposedly linked to Saddam. America’s influence is ebbing noticeably as its troops withdraw. Despite spending $800 billion on Iraq over the past seven years, its plan for the country has still not worked.
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