Error occured during this request! Please try again later.
Iraq
Iraqi supporters of the Hashd al-Shaabi paramilitias carry pictures of the country’s top Shiite cleric, Grand Ayatollah Ali Sistani, in Baghdad's Tahrir Square, December 5, 2019. Photo: Ahmad al-Rubaye / AFP
BAGHDAD, Iraq – Young Iraqi protesters who spoke to Rudaw in Baghdad’s Tahrir Square last week say they are losing faith in the country’s top Shiite religious authority, Grand Ayatollah Ali al-Sistani, because he has failed to support their cause.
Although he rarely appears in public, Sistani has a profound influence over Iraq’s Shiite majority, government ministers, and even the country’s powerful armed militias.
Sistani’s interventions led to the resignation of Prime Minister Adil Abdul-Mahdi late last month, but protesters say they are disappointed with the ‘marja’ – or ‘source’ – and his failure to fully embrace the demands of their movement from the start.
As the ongoing protests rattle the foundations of the Shiite political order that has ruled Iraq since the 2003 ousting of Saddam Hussein, could the Grand Ayatollah’s spell over young Iraqis also be broken?
Walking through Tahrir Square on December 4, I got talking to Abdul-Salam*. The 39-year-old protester is delighted Iraqis have finally woken up and begun fighting back.
Together we enter one of the many tents pitched around the square. We are immediately offered tea and cigarettes by those camped inside listening to revolutionary music.
Tahrir Square has become the epicenter of the anti-government protests, which began on October 1. The overwhelmingly young crowd initially limited its demands to jobs, services, and action against corruption.
However, following a pause on October 9 during the Shiite religious observance of Arbaeen, the protests resumed on October 25 with fresh demands for regime changes, the dissolving of the parliament, and for a presidential system.
More than 420 protesters and members of the security forces have been killed and 16,000 wounded since the unrest began.
The crackdown has left the protesters feeling wary. Abdul-Salam is happy to share his views with me, but insists I don’t film him or use his real name.
His caution is easy to understand. Since October 25, unidentified armed groups have been kidnapping and killing young activists.
Just on Sunday, Fahim al-Taie, an activist from Karbala, was killed outside his home by unknown gunmen riding a motorcycle.
Settling down in the tent, I fire up my voice recorder and ask our hosts what they think of Sistani’s role in the protests.
“Sistani let us down, and I don’t believe in him anymore because he did not stand with us,” says Ahmed, an activist from Baghdad.
Um Muhammad, also from Baghdad, has not completely written off the marja, saying she believes he is with them.
But Hayder argues Sistani only started backing the protesters “when he felt threatened and was losing the trust of the people”.
“He got scared and he stood with us,” Hayder says.
“Because his image was ruined and he wanted to make it up,” Ilaf concurs.
If Sistani is only concerned about his position, is the Grand Ayatollah more of a businessman than a religious leader, Abdul-Salam asks the group.
“I will respond without fear,” says Salih, who has been camped out in Tahrir Square since October 26.
“Even if my father sees me in trouble and does not support me, I don’t count him as my father anymore. And so, Sistani does not represent me anymore, since he did not support me in my struggle and protests.”
Sistani, to his credit, has called on the government to meet the demands of the protesters since the unrest began.
However, it took the marja more than a month after the resumption of protests on October 25 and the death of hundreds of young people before he demanded the prime minister’s resignation on November 29.
Protesters ask whether lives could have been spared had Sistani intervened sooner.
We say our goodbyes and move on to another tent where I pose the same question.
Mustafa and Muhammad, both from Baghdad, waste no time thinking through their answer. Sistani is against them, they say.
But Ali, who is sitting with them, is more forgiving of the marja, questioning his understanding of the movement and even his relevance.
“Sistani is neither my friend nor my enemy, but I’m sure he is not with me and my friends,” Ali says.
“I have respect for Sistani, but he has been locked in a house in Najaf for years without coming out. I have respect for his ‘Abaya’, but does he know about our struggles? I don’t think so; he has no idea about our struggle.”
Qusai agrees, saying Sistani has no clue how the poor live because he has never had to struggle himself.
“Sistani has no idea how poor we are and what our struggles are, because he has never witnessed my struggles, even though they say he is living in a rented house, but I think it is not true,” he says.
Mustafa, a 19-year-old protester whose leg was injured in clashes in Khilani Square last month, disagrees.
“He knows about our struggles, but his interests block him from supporting us or helping us,” he says.
My companion Abdul-Salam neatly sums up the mood of the room.
“Sistani is an imaginary character,” he says.
For many of the young people protesting in the square, Sistani is part of the same Shiite religious establishment they have grown to detest.
As Ali explains, if Iraqis want to “change the country from an eastern style state into a western style”, then the power of men like Sistani is bound to be rolled back.
“We want to isolate the religion from the politics,” he says.
Although he rarely appears in public, Sistani has a profound influence over Iraq’s Shiite majority, government ministers, and even the country’s powerful armed militias.
Sistani’s interventions led to the resignation of Prime Minister Adil Abdul-Mahdi late last month, but protesters say they are disappointed with the ‘marja’ – or ‘source’ – and his failure to fully embrace the demands of their movement from the start.
As the ongoing protests rattle the foundations of the Shiite political order that has ruled Iraq since the 2003 ousting of Saddam Hussein, could the Grand Ayatollah’s spell over young Iraqis also be broken?
Walking through Tahrir Square on December 4, I got talking to Abdul-Salam*. The 39-year-old protester is delighted Iraqis have finally woken up and begun fighting back.
Together we enter one of the many tents pitched around the square. We are immediately offered tea and cigarettes by those camped inside listening to revolutionary music.
Tahrir Square has become the epicenter of the anti-government protests, which began on October 1. The overwhelmingly young crowd initially limited its demands to jobs, services, and action against corruption.
However, following a pause on October 9 during the Shiite religious observance of Arbaeen, the protests resumed on October 25 with fresh demands for regime changes, the dissolving of the parliament, and for a presidential system.
More than 420 protesters and members of the security forces have been killed and 16,000 wounded since the unrest began.
The crackdown has left the protesters feeling wary. Abdul-Salam is happy to share his views with me, but insists I don’t film him or use his real name.
His caution is easy to understand. Since October 25, unidentified armed groups have been kidnapping and killing young activists.
Just on Sunday, Fahim al-Taie, an activist from Karbala, was killed outside his home by unknown gunmen riding a motorcycle.
Settling down in the tent, I fire up my voice recorder and ask our hosts what they think of Sistani’s role in the protests.
“Sistani let us down, and I don’t believe in him anymore because he did not stand with us,” says Ahmed, an activist from Baghdad.
Um Muhammad, also from Baghdad, has not completely written off the marja, saying she believes he is with them.
But Hayder argues Sistani only started backing the protesters “when he felt threatened and was losing the trust of the people”.
“He got scared and he stood with us,” Hayder says.
“Because his image was ruined and he wanted to make it up,” Ilaf concurs.
If Sistani is only concerned about his position, is the Grand Ayatollah more of a businessman than a religious leader, Abdul-Salam asks the group.
“I will respond without fear,” says Salih, who has been camped out in Tahrir Square since October 26.
“Even if my father sees me in trouble and does not support me, I don’t count him as my father anymore. And so, Sistani does not represent me anymore, since he did not support me in my struggle and protests.”
Sistani, to his credit, has called on the government to meet the demands of the protesters since the unrest began.
However, it took the marja more than a month after the resumption of protests on October 25 and the death of hundreds of young people before he demanded the prime minister’s resignation on November 29.
Protesters ask whether lives could have been spared had Sistani intervened sooner.
We say our goodbyes and move on to another tent where I pose the same question.
Mustafa and Muhammad, both from Baghdad, waste no time thinking through their answer. Sistani is against them, they say.
But Ali, who is sitting with them, is more forgiving of the marja, questioning his understanding of the movement and even his relevance.
“Sistani is neither my friend nor my enemy, but I’m sure he is not with me and my friends,” Ali says.
“I have respect for Sistani, but he has been locked in a house in Najaf for years without coming out. I have respect for his ‘Abaya’, but does he know about our struggles? I don’t think so; he has no idea about our struggle.”
Qusai agrees, saying Sistani has no clue how the poor live because he has never had to struggle himself.
“Sistani has no idea how poor we are and what our struggles are, because he has never witnessed my struggles, even though they say he is living in a rented house, but I think it is not true,” he says.
Mustafa, a 19-year-old protester whose leg was injured in clashes in Khilani Square last month, disagrees.
“He knows about our struggles, but his interests block him from supporting us or helping us,” he says.
My companion Abdul-Salam neatly sums up the mood of the room.
“Sistani is an imaginary character,” he says.
For many of the young people protesting in the square, Sistani is part of the same Shiite religious establishment they have grown to detest.
As Ali explains, if Iraqis want to “change the country from an eastern style state into a western style”, then the power of men like Sistani is bound to be rolled back.
“We want to isolate the religion from the politics,” he says.
Comments
Rudaw moderates all comments submitted on our website. We welcome comments which are relevant to the article and encourage further discussion about the issues that matter to you. We also welcome constructive criticism about Rudaw.
To be approved for publication, however, your comments must meet our community guidelines.
We will not tolerate the following: profanity, threats, personal attacks, vulgarity, abuse (such as sexism, racism, homophobia or xenophobia), or commercial or personal promotion.
Comments that do not meet our guidelines will be rejected. Comments are not edited – they are either approved or rejected.
Post a comment