Since April 9, 2003, Iraq has undergone one crisis after another. They all have one thing in common. Crises used to be managed with the intention of finding a way out; today, however, they are managed with the intention of survival amid the chaos in our region. This difference between yesterday and today explains the continuous decline of the state and its institutions.
This conclusion is drawn from experience, not from the outside, from the perspective of a man who understands how decisions are made and obstructed. The goal is not to take a position but to say that this state of affairs is no longer sustainable. Iraq’s dilemma has never been obscure. It is painfully clear. However, the country suffers from a chronic inability to make decisions; this is a crisis of will.
Unfortunately, political elites have failed to answer a seemingly simple question with profound consequences. What do we want? Do we want to build a state, or to sustain power? A state, here, means a monopoly on arms, the rule of law, and institutions that are not reduced to individuals. It also means a serious effort to fight corruption, which must be treated as a “red line” that must not be crossed. Instead, we have a system of fragile balances in which mistakes are exploited rather than corrected.
One clear example tells us all we need to know: corruption. In any regime, corruption is supposed to be rejected. In our country, however, it has become a tool of the regime. It is used to secure alliances, buy loyalties, and maintain influence. It is even carefully managed to avoid the collapse of the balances upon which power rests. After 23 years of “democracy” in Iraq, corruption has become structural.
We cannot speak of a real state as non-state actors continue to operate in Iraq. This issue (especially in light of current events) must be addressed through a comprehensive and genuine reassessment. Instead, it is often approached through evasion justified by religious discourse that is framed in ideological terms and is sometimes adorned with nationalist dimensions. When values become tools of justification, they are emptied of meaning and turned into an element of the conflict. In short, parallel armed forces are a weapon against the state regardless of intention.
Moreover, decisive slogans have become justification for postponement. Promises of change have turned into narratives excusing failure. The result is clear for all to see: rising unemployment and illiteracy despite constant talk of opportunities and investments; basic services still below minimum standards in a country with resources sufficient to build several states; unstable electricity despite repeated promises. These are not technical failures. In many cases, it does not even seem to be a result of incapacity. Rather, these problems are the result of the exploitation of crises, deliberate efforts to perpetuate the problem because it justifies the survival of the “formula.”
Despite all measures and promises, we see growing social tensions: chronic unemployment, deteriorating basic services, and a disconnect between state and society lead citizens to feel that their sovereignty and rights are persistently violated. These social strains and collective psychological pressures could easily trigger an implosion.
At this stage, delaying decisions will only accelerate this implosion. When it happens, the recycled justifications of past years will become untenable. No distinction will be made between those who erred and those who did not, nor between those directly or indirectly responsible. This explosion will not be a fleeting emotional reaction but the natural result of the absence of effective institutions, decision-making failures, and the accumulation of tangible frustrations on the ground.
When religious discourse is invoked in politics, the first obligation it imposes is commitment, not justification:
“Indeed, God does not change the condition of a people until they change themselves.”
This verse is not merely moral guidance. It is a vision, a strategy, and a framework for action. It is not tenable to demand that society change without decisions. Real change begins at the center of decision-making. Yet the political elite repeatedly delays it. As Ali al-Wardi wrote in “The Preachers of the Sultans”: “If this statement were true, the preacher should tell the ruler: change people’s conditions, and then their morals will change.”
This quotation presents the issue plainly: real change begins at the top, not on the street. Any talk of social change or calls on society to change become meaningless if those in power are unable or unwilling to make the right decisions, or if they kick the can down the road to preserve their interests and gains above all else. Frankly, we do not have the option to recycle the crisis, the rhetoric, or the justifications. Yes, it is already late. Even so, correcting our course remains less costly than continuing along the path of slow decline, followed by a massive explosion.
What is the solution? The optimal political and social path out of this impasse remains serious and constructive national dialogue, not negotiations over interests or power. Such dialogue is not a luxury or a waste of time. It is the only foundation upon which the country can be built: the interests of Iraq and its people must come above all else. History has shown that all wars and conflicts, no matter how bitter, ultimately end at the negotiating table. So why should we, as Iraqis, not begin our path where others have ended?
The required dialogue must be among rational actors who believe that the supreme national interest can only be achieved through conscious political will. Real decisions that transcend narrow interests are needed, as is a firm commitment to transform the state from a collection of personal interests into real, sovereign, and effective institutions.
We stand at a decisive historical turning point: either the state becomes a reality governed by one law, one army, and one decision, or it remains an unrealized idea for the future, being bled dry in the name of “balances,” eventually losing all meaning. In such moments, the value of elites is not measured by what they say but by what they dare to do. The real test is no longer in characterizing the crisis but breaking the cycle that has turned corruption into a regime, created parallel armed forces, and rendered postponement a policy in itself.
The required national dialogue is not merely a mechanism for negotiation. It is an existential test for the very notion of statehood: is it still possible in Iraq? And is there genuine will to turn what is a nominal framework into a real, unifying authority? The answer will not be determined by statements or intentions. Only long-awaited difficult decisions can make a difference. Only then can it be said that Iraq is no longer caught in perpetual crisis and has finally begun to emerge on the other side.
