As Iraqis Protest against State, Tribes Make a Comeback

Iraq's tribes have once again become one of the most powerful actors in the rural and oil-rich south. (AFP)
Iraq's tribes have once again become one of the most powerful actors in the rural and oil-rich south. (AFP)
TT
20

As Iraqis Protest against State, Tribes Make a Comeback

Iraq's tribes have once again become one of the most powerful actors in the rural and oil-rich south. (AFP)
Iraq's tribes have once again become one of the most powerful actors in the rural and oil-rich south. (AFP)

Iraqi protesters have clashed with police and torched government offices, a premier has resigned and precious blood spilt. As modern institutions collapse, a centuries-old force is making a comeback: Iraq's tribes.

With their own hierarchies, moral and justice codes, not to mention huge arms caches, tribes have once again become among the most powerful actors in Iraq's rural and oil-rich south.

They have a history of revolt, turning against the British colonizing forces in a major boost to the 1920 uprising that led to the country's independence.

A century later, revolution has hit Iraq again.

Baghdad and the Shiite-majority region have been rocked by two months of the worst unrest since the 2003 US-led invasion that toppled Saddam Hussein.

Anti-regime protesters have burned state headquarters and party offices in outrage at corruption, poor public services and Iran's perceived political interference.

It has been the perfect storm in which Iraq's tribes could reassert their leadership, said Phillip Smyth of the Washington Institute for Near East Policy.

In recent years, many Shiites had "become more urbanized and have loosened up their identity when it comes to being tribal," he said.

Youth, which make up 60 percent of Iraq's 40 million people, were particularly prone to look outward and shed their tribal identities.

"But the reason the tribes have a lot more strength now is that you have a very weak central government and an outside power -- the Iranians -- that is viewed as being complicit with this government," Smyth told AFP.

"These guys are looking at this and saying, let's revert back to sources of power that we know," he added.

Trusting the tribes

Nasiriyah in southern Iraq is a prime example.

Authorities dispatched commander Jamil al-Shammary late last month to snuff out widespread rallies in the city.

But tribal fighters then came out in force, cutting off roads to prevent troops from reaching Nasiriyah.

They negotiated a halt to the bloodshed, which had already cost 97 lives since protests erupted in October.

"It was the tribes that found a solution to the crisis while the politicians did nothing," said Qaysar al-Husseinawi, a leading figure in Nasiriyah's Husseinat tribe.

Their role did not stop there: the clans are also seeking justice for around 100 families pursuing legal cases against Shammary, himself a member of a powerful tribe.

Shammary's clan has excommunicated him over the crackdown.

Tribal tradition dictates that "blood money" must be paid to the victims' families -- otherwise they have the right to seek equally violent vengeance.

Tribal law

Influential clan structures have so far intervened to end bloodshed but if they choose to take up arms, many in the south expect full-blown conflict.

One police officer told AFP he'd rather desert than fight them.

"The state could never protect its own men against tribal law," he said.

Indeed, tribal tradition often trumps state law in Iraq, with accused criminals being released after tribal talks and even marital disputes resolved by mediators.

The tribes blend modern life and centuries-old tradition, with sheikhs juggling two iPhones while ordering wave after wave of sugary tea be served to their guests.

In the southernmost province of Basra, armed tribe members have often shut the streets outside national or even international oil companies to demand well-paid jobs there.

"The social bargain of any tribe is that the sheikh is a river to his people," providing them with work, justice and stability, said Nicholas Heras of the Center for a New American Security, a think-tank in Washington.

So naturally, the widespread upheaval in recent weeks over unemployment and poor services touched tribes, too.

"Tribal anger is directed at leaders in Baghdad that are viewed as having not kept their part of the social bargain," Heras told AFP.

'Bridges burned'

The British colonizing forces had a tribal revolt on their hands in the early 1900s after they arrested a tribal sheikh over a tax issue.

Nearly a century later, tribal support for the anti-government movement can also be linked to a push-back against central government authority in distant Baghdad.

But resolving the dispute won't be so simple.

"A lot of bridges have been burned," said Smyth.

"If you have people fundamentally angry at how institutions are corrupt, mismanaged and just bad, you won't just get bought off with a job," he added.

The government may seek to appease tribes with offers of more jobs or services, but there is no guarantee they could keep their support for long.

"You can never buy tribal groupings," said Smyth, pointing to their often shifting tactical allegiances.

"They're for rent."



Syria’s Al-Qusayr Celebrates Eid al-Fitr without Hezbollah for First Time in Years

People perform Eid Al-Fitr prayers in Al-Qusayr. (Sami Volunteer Team)
People perform Eid Al-Fitr prayers in Al-Qusayr. (Sami Volunteer Team)
TT
20

Syria’s Al-Qusayr Celebrates Eid al-Fitr without Hezbollah for First Time in Years

People perform Eid Al-Fitr prayers in Al-Qusayr. (Sami Volunteer Team)
People perform Eid Al-Fitr prayers in Al-Qusayr. (Sami Volunteer Team)

Amid the devastation, thousands of residents of Syria’s Al-Qusayr performed Eid Al-Fitr prayers in the northern district square—the site where the city’s first protest against President Bashar al-Assad’s rule erupted in 2011.

For the first time in Al-Qusayr’s history, Eid prayers were held in a public square. It was also the first mass gathering of residents in an open space in 13 years, following a war that destroyed 70% of the city, displaced its people, and led to its capture by Lebanon’s Hezbollah and Syrian regime forces.

Al-Qusayr, a region located near the Lebanese border, was once Hezbollah’s most significant stronghold in Syria. The group withdrew after the fall of the Syrian regime in December, but its loyalists and affiliated locals remained, along with residents of several border villages that have seen sporadic clashes in recent months.

The most intense fighting occurred in February, when Syrian forces launched a military operation that pushed them into Lebanese territory and deployed troops to seal off illegal border crossings.

Tensions flared again two weeks ago after Syrian soldiers were killed in the border region, triggering an exchange of artillery fire between the two sides.

The clashes left casualties on both ends and forced the displacement of border village residents before a ceasefire was reached with the Lebanese army.

The agreement included the closure of four illegal crossings in an effort to curb the smuggling of weapons and drugs, a trade that has flourished over the past decade under the former regime.

As soon as the regime fell, refugees from Al-Qusayr living in Lebanese camps began returning to their hometown. Hundreds arrived to find their homes completely destroyed, forcing them to set up tents beside the ruins while they rebuilt or searched for alternative housing.

The residents of Al-Qusayr resumed their communal Eid traditions after Ramadan. (Sami Volunteer Team)

The large turnout for Eid prayers underscored the scale of the return.

Journalist Ahmed al-Qasir, who recently came back, estimated that about 65% of those displaced have now returned. Before the uprising, Al-Qusayr had a population of around 150,000, he told Asharq Al-Awsat.

Shahin, 30, who returned in 2018, described the city as a wasteland at the time, despite some 20,000 people having already come back.

“Hezbollah, regime militias, and smugglers controlled the area. There were no real markets, just small shops. Everything was in ruins—schools, clinics, hospitals,” he said.

Residents had to travel 30 kilometers to Homs for basic necessities, enduring regime checkpoints that extorted money along the way.

With the fall of Assad’s regime and Hezbollah’s withdrawal, life in Al-Qusayr has slowly begun to return to normal. Since the start of Ramadan, markets have reopened despite widespread destruction, poverty, and hardship.

On the eve of Eid, the city’s streets buzzed with late-night shopping, Shahin noted.

“Al-Qusayr is finally regaining its role as the region’s commercial hub,” he said.

According to a survey by the Sami Volunteer Team, more than 30,000 refugees returned to Al-Qusayr and its countryside within the first month of the regime’s collapse.

That number is believed to have doubled over the past four months, and team organizers expect it to rise further once the school year ends.

Zaid Harba, a member of the 40-person volunteer group, said most returnees came from refugee camps in Lebanon, while fewer arrived from displacement camps in northern Syria.

Many families there are waiting for the academic year to conclude before arranging their return.