First Session of New Parliament a Time of Hope and Discord

For Jamal Faris, the 36-year-old head of a Sunni Arab tribe, it was “a good day.”

The newly elected lawmaker had safely made the journey from Nasiriya in southern Iraq for the opening session of the new parliament, buoyed by a belief that Iraqis can work together to quell the sectarian violence and other daunting problems confronting their nation.

“Iraqis are good people,” said Faris, dressed in flowing robes. “Their points of view will come together.”

Still, some of his colleagues were doubtful. Alaa Sadoon, a Sunni accountant from Baghdad wearing a traditional veil, said she was not sure the gap between Sunni Arabs, Shiites and ethnic Kurds could be bridged. But they must try. “We must put hope ahead of us,” she said. Otherwise, “there will be civil war.”

Iraqi leaders and American diplomats hope that increased Sunni participation in the new government can help prevent a full-scale civil war. Sunni Arabs largely boycotted the first assembly election early last year, and there were only 17 Sunnis in the interim assembly; December’s parliamentary vote, on the other hand, has yielded more than three times as many Sunni lawmakers.

Although it was a day of hope and energy, it was also one in which ominous signs continued to abound. Even for fractured Iraq, the day held unusually incongruous moments.

Assembly members arrived at the Baghdad convention center in the fortified Green Zone like celebrities on a red carpet, alighting from SUVs, Mercedeses and large American cars with tinted windows, nodding or waving at the crowd of onlookers.

At the same time, security had been ratcheted up so tightly in the wake of recent violence that the streets around the Green Zone were devoid of traffic.

To get into the convention center, reporters had to pass through four checkpoints within a distance of less than 100 yards and were searched each time.

Moreover, the short session was marked by discord. One member protested that the opening statement, with references to the sectarian tension, was inappropriately political. Another complained that two words in the swearing-in oath had been dropped, making it pro-Sunni.

It was hastily adjourned without the naming of a speaker or a new government. Three months after the parliamentary election, party leaders are still trying to reach an agreement on a president, prime minister and Cabinet members.

Still, legislators expressed confidence that they would eventually be able to agree on a new government and get the nation moving.

Mohammed Iraidi, a 41-year-old grain farmer from Amarah in southern Iraq, pointed to his own family as an example of how different sects can come together.

“My mother is a Sunni and my father is a Shiite,” he said.

Tanya Gilly, another first-time legislator, a Kurd from Kirkuk, was so excited that she had purchased a sparkly blue dress for the occasion. To Kurds, the opening of parliament was important for another reason. The session coincided with the anniversary of the massacre of thousands of Kurdish civilians in Halabja in 1988, allegedly on the orders of Saddam Hussein.

Gilly lived in Kuwait, Canada and the U.S. during Hussein’s rule, returning only after he was ousted in 2003.

“I’m excited and scared because of the situation,” she said. “We’ve been waiting for this for so long.”

Despite the new circumstances fostered by the U.S.-led invasion, several of the legislators were critical of the United States, with some saying that Sunnis and Shiites got along well before the Americans came.

Faris, the Sunni tribal chief, said many of the killings had been mercenary rather than sectarian in nature. The economy has been so disrupted that people are driven by poverty to do desperate things, he said.

“For money, a Sunni can kill a Sunni or a Shiite,” he said.

But Sadoon, the Sunni accountant, spoke of the differences between the two sects. She bridled at the idea that Sunni Arabs, who dominated Iraq during Hussein’s regime, are a minority in Iraq -- despite the fact that Shiites make up the majority of the population and won far more parliamentary seats than Sunnis.

“Shiites call us a minority because they do not want to give us our rights,” she said. “They started this lie from the beginning until people from the outside believe it.”

She also complained that some in the Shiite-run Interior Ministry were operating death squads that have tortured and killed Sunnis in Baghdad and elsewhere. “What we see makes us believe that,” she said.

Still, a celebratory spirit was evident at the convention center.

“Today is a historic day,” said Ridha Taqi, 50, a Shiite chemical engineer who returned from Britain after the U.S.-led invasion. “Terrorists wanted to interrupt it, but we held on.”

Two mortar rounds did land inside the Green Zone on Thursday, but no incidents were reported at the convention center.

Taqi, who is with the Supreme Council for Islamic Revolution in Iraq, was not troubled even by the problems at the swearing-in ceremony.

“We’re tasting democracy,” said Taqi, a dapper man in a Western suit.

“In each stage is a different taste. Today all Iraqis are looking on with tears in their eyes because of this session.”

Maybe not all. Gilly said she had some business to take care of.

“Now I can actually go out and have business cards printed,” she said.