|
The
images on al-Sharqiya, Iraq's most popular
television channel, are slick and sophisticated;
except for their language, they wouldn't be out of
place in an American political campaign. Amid
pictures of flags, ballots and Iraqi children, Iraqi
Prime Minister Ayad Allawi promises "a bright future
and a strong and competent Iraq."
Among the freedoms Iraqis — Sunnis, Shiites and
Kurds alike — have embraced since Saddam Hussein's
ouster is access to satellite television. Many
Iraqis are news junkies, rapidly channel-surfing to
catch the latest headlines. As I watched television
with a Kurdish friend, Allawi ads ran repeatedly on
Iraqi channels and on al-Arabiya, an Arabic
satellite channel broadcast out of Dubai.
Allawi's political spots do not matter much in Najaf,
where bloody urban warfare was waged just five
months ago. The reason is not lack of interest but
rather lack of electricity. Because of insurgent
activity, the Iraqi government has been unable to
supply fuel to the Musayyib power station,
contributing to frequent power cuts. Ordinary Iraqis
have to wait up to two days to purchase gasoline for
their generators. They cannot afford to power their
television sets.
Shiite politicians have accordingly taken different
campaign tacks. Because insurgent violence limits
the number of rallies possible, many broadcast their
messages by radio, accessible to ordinary Iraqis
with battery-powered sets. While Allawi is
constrained by a wall of security, his Shiite
competitors have adopted a grass-roots campaign. On
Jan. 9, tribal sheiks from the outskirts of Najaf
hosted a rally in the town of Mushkhab. Among those
attending was Abdul Karim Muhammadawi, known as the
"Robin Hood of the Marshes" for his resistance to
Saddam Hussein's army before the American invasion.
Former Governing Council members Ahmed Barak and
Ahmed Chalabi also were there; Chalabi drove down
from Baghdad for the event. Washington pundits who
argue about whether the Sunnis will boycott the
election missed an effusive greeting for Mudhar
Shawkat and Sheik Fawaz Jarba, two Arab Sunnis who
are running on the Shiite-dominated Iraqi National
Alliance list, which has been endorsed by Grand
Ayatollah Ali Sistani.
I embedded myself with Iraqi friends in Baghdad's
Mansour district, a diverse area that is home to
many politicians but that has recently been the site
of a number of bombings. After sunset, the
generators go on and reception rooms are abuzz with
local notables. In back rooms, politicians from
across Iraq make deals and exchange gossip. They
debate the efficacy of Gen. David H. Petraeus'
training program for the new Iraqi military and how
security might be improved. They discuss coalitions
and post-election portfolios.
The latest rumors involve speculation that the
Shiites might offer the presidency to the leader of
the Patriotic Union of Kurdistan, Jalal Talabani.
Shiites and Sunnis discuss strategies to curb
violence in Mosul. Some politicians disappear to
consult with figures such as Iraq's interim
president, Ghazi Yawar, a Sunni tribal leader from
Mosul who is heading his own slate of candidates.
Campaign staffers discuss slogans, poster designs
and news releases.
On the streets of Baghdad, the campaign is also in
full swing. Iraqis ponder voting by the number.
There are more than 250 election slates,
representing approximately 7,000 candidates. A
lottery assigned each slate a ballot position
between 101 and 365. Driving to Kadhimiya, a largely
Shiite neighborhood in Baghdad, I see walls covered
with posters for Slate 169, the Iraqi National
Alliance. The posters alternately show a burning
candle or the images of Sistani and the late Grand
Ayatollah Muhammad Sadiq Sadr superimposed over the
number 169. Streets along Baghdad's Abu Nawas
corniche are emblazoned with posters advertising the
Constitutional Monarchy Movement's leader, Sharif
Ali bin Hussein, a Sunni businessman who has managed
to attract significant tribal support. In a sign of
tolerance and political maturity, competing
campaigns do not obstruct one another's posters.
To Iraqis, the elections are no longer theoretical.
With voting less than two days away, there is
electricity in the air. Pundits and politicians can
discuss whether the elections should go forward, but
for most Iraqis, such debates are moot. Democracy
may be a process, but it is one in which Iraqis are
ready to take the first step.
Rubin, a resident scholar at the American Enterprise
Institute, is editor of the Middle East Quarterly.
http://www.chron.com
Top |
® 