Charles Tripp is senior lecturer in the department of political studies at the School of Oriental and African Studies, University of London. His most recent work is A History of Iraq (Cambridge University Press, 2002, 2nd edition).
By Charles Tripp
Charles Tripp is senior lecturer in the department of political studies at the School of Oriental and African Studies, University of London. His most recent work is A History of Iraq(Cambridge University Press, 2002, 2nd edition).
At the present moment, Iraqi history appears to be bracketed by two momentous, externally generated events. The first, some ninety years ago, occurred when the British Mesopotamian Expeditionary Force landed at al-Faw and began the process which led to the creation of the new state of Iraq. The second event, which may not happen, but which seems increasingly likely to take place in the coming months, would be the US-led invasion and military occupation of the whole of Iraq. In both cases, the course of Iraqi history has been and may be shaped in part by the pursuit of the narrowly defined strategic interests of these powers, but also in part by their understanding of Iraq’s trajectory as a state. This is underpinned by the views held of the Iraqis as social actors, the recognition accorded to various forms of collective identification in Iraq and the weight given to certain narratives in the formation of Iraqi history.
Of course, this is not a disinterested exercise. Decisions taken and policies pursued by Great Britain then and possibly by the US in the near future on the basis of such forms of recognition have important material consequences. Furthermore, they interact with the ways in which Iraqis have seen and continue to see themselves. Whilst the social ontology of Iraq which informs outsiders’ actions in Iraq may be based upon the self-understanding of the outsiders themselves, as well as on analogy and comparative example, it will also be heavily influenced by the self-representation of various groups of Iraqis. These powerful interpretations by Iraqis themselves will be conditioned by dominant narratives in their history which they are seeking to preserve or to challenge, but they will also be affected by strategic calculations about the new order that appears to be unfolding and the opportunities and dangers ahead.1
The argument to be developed here is that dominant forms of power, both external and internal to the territories of Iraq, have the capacity, through recognition and all that flows from it, selectively to reinforce existing formations and imaginings. In addition, they are capable of calling into being identities and organisations that might have played a minor or marginal part under a previous dispensation of power, but which now begin to shape an emerging narrative of Iraqi history, placing them in centre stage. The intention is thus to argue for the contingency of much that has been taken for granted about Iraqi society, not to deny its reality, but rather to deny the impression conveyed—often through collusive discourse—that there is something ineluctable about the categories most often used to think about Iraq as a social and political entity.
Contingency in this sense is not simply arbitrary, but is often linked to a particular notion of instrumentality. Administrative knowledge is, in its intention at least, predictive knowledge. Whether under the British, under Iraqi governments including that of Saddam Husain, or under a possible future US military occupation, the determination to mobilise, to extract resources from or simply to preserve social order amongst the population assumes a set of beliefs about how people will behave as social actors. At one level, this provides grounds for a debate about whether people act as individuals or as members of larger collectivities. At another level, the question revolves around the nature of those collectivities, how they cohere, move and change. These are the presuppositions upon which are founded government policies intended to encourage some forms of behaviour and suppress others.
When the British occupied Mesopotamia during the First World War and created the new state of Iraq thereafter, they brought with them varying ideas about who the Iraqis were and the potential of different social groupings to lend themselves to the project of state-building which the British government had in mind. Some of these ideas were grounded in comparative imperial experience, often of a contrasting nature. Officials with experience of British India were highly influential, seeing in the landscape of Iraq, whether in the Arab or Kurdish areas, tribes and tribal hierarchies which they assumed would behave much as those they had encountered in the North West Frontier Province of India. They were responsible for introducing the ‘Tribal Civil and Criminal Disputes Regulation’ which gave recognised tribal shaikhs the authority to settle all disputes in their ‘tribal areas’, independent of the judicial apparatus of the Iraqi state. However, these officials’ views about the importance of the tribal elements of Iraqi society were challenged or at least modified from two directions.
Those concerned about the connection between state-building, societal development and land holding drew upon British imperial experience in Egypt since 1882 and sought to implement policies which focused on the peasant as a social actor, emphasising his potential for individual development and pursuit of self-interest. These officials questioned the allegedly enduring nature of ‘the tribes’, as well as the administrative utility of using shaikhs as intermediaries. Instead, they looked to the individual peasant proprietor as the best way of furthering economic development and of rooting the new state in a solid social base. For other British officials, nationalism and specifically Arab nationalism was to be the language of engagement with modernity. This led to the cultivation of former Ottoman administrative elites—the ‘effendis’ so despised by the enthusiasts of tribal hierarchy—at the expense of both the religious hierarchies of the Shi`a and of the Kurds’ Sufi tribal leaders. Contradictory as these views were, many were taken up and incorporated into British and subsequently Iraqi state policy, helping to shape government policy and to give social reality to certain kinds of actors associated with the state that was emerging in Iraq.2
Precisely because questions of identity and the recognition of particular identities by the state touch on rights, claims and resources, differences about these categories and their appropriateness for the classification of Iraqi society have been a constant theme of Iraqi political debate. Surfacing with particular vehemence at times of perceived change and new possibility—understandably, in view of the historical contingency of the categories themselves—the arguments about the rights and the future role of ethnic groupings, of religious communities, of tribal hierarchies, as well as of functional classes and class fractions have preoccupied Iraqis throughout their history.3
Nowhere was this more apparent in public discourse in Iraq than in the years following the 1958 revolution which overthrew the Iraqi monarchy. There were those who saw this as a defining moment which would allow the recognition of new forms and forces of collective action, escaping the social categories associated with the monarchical state. In theory, the vertical bonds which had tied sections of Iraqi society together—the affinities of tribal association, of sectarian alignment and of ethnic identification—would give way to horizontal, functional groupings, bringing to the fore groups and thus collective action based on class identities, on gender solidarities and on common generational aspirations.
The events of 1959 in Kirkuk and Mosul—when ideological and class antagonisms became intertwined with ethnic and sectarian hatreds to produce severe intercommunal violence—showed how difficult it was to separate one form of identification from another in a society where the state had long recognised certain forms of affective identification as the basis of hierarchies of privilege.4 Furthermore, the actions of the governments of Abd al-Karim Qasim and of the `Arif brothers during the first half of the 1960s showed how persuasive the ethnic, tribal and sectarian categories were in the imagination of those who ran the Iraqi state.5 Despite some attempts at radical programmes of social reform, it was clear that ‘seeing like a state’ in Iraq still involved recognition of collective identities which had more to do with the vertical categories of ethnic, sectarian and tribal ascriptive identity than with horizontal coalitions of like-minded citizens.6 This, in turn, reinforced a dominant narrative which justified the authoritarian, central state with reference to the claimed ethnic and sectarian fracture lines of Iraqi society.
It was in part disillusionment with what some saw as a stalled modernity in Iraq which led to their qualified support for the Ba`thist coup d’état of 1968 which brought Ahmad Hasan al-Bakr and his kinsman Saddam Husain to power. Many Ba`thists, as well as non-Ba`thists, had reservations about the methods used to consolidate power, and about the identity and inclinations of those who had taken over the leadership of the party. However, both within the Ba`th and beyond there were many Iraqis who felt that the new regime would create space for solidarities based on the ‘progressive’ social forces of national self-determination and developing class consciousness.7 The early recognition by the new regime in Baghdad of the two nationalities—Arab and Kurdish—which co-existed in the Iraqi state, was seen as promising in two ways: it seemed to recognise a single Kurdish nationality which, in theory at least, would iron out the feudal, tribal and sectarian particularities of the actually existing Kurdish populations of Iraq; it also seemed to link Iraq firmly to the movement of Arab national liberation, the various anti-colonial manifestations of which could be seen from Algeria to Palestine and from Libya to Yemen.8 At the same time, the close relationship of the Ba`thist regime with the Iraqi Communist Party in the National Patriotic Front of the early 1970s suggested that political recognition for workers, peasants, women and students as political actors would be a mark of the new era, realising the disappointed expectations of 1958/9.
These hopes were to be dashed by the late 1970s with great violence both inside and outside the Ba`th party. The purges and persecutions of 1978/9 signalled and paved the way for the emergence of Saddam Husain as supreme leader of the party and of the country. It was to be his vision and his methods which thereafter shaped the narrative of Iraqi politics. In this respect, the state that emerged under Hasan al-Bakr and then under Saddam Husain has displayed a characteristic duality as far as the recognition and use of social categories are concerned. On one level, whilst Arabism and the recognition of the Arab national identity of most of the Iraqis has been a prominent part of the public discourse of the regime two things have become clear: in practice, Iraqi national identity has been promoted more assiduously as a unifying theme for all Iraqis, Arab or otherwise; secondly, adherence to Arab or indeed Iraqi identity has never been regarded by Saddam Husain as a sufficiently reliable indicator of individuals’ political inclination.
For this reason, behind the façade of the public state, there has long existed in Iraq a ‘shadow state’. This is centred on rather different forms of recognition and thrives on the patronage which keeps much of Iraqi society dependent on the particular solidarities at the heart of power. A key part of this solidarity is the recognition by Saddam Husain of the importance of kinship and clan affiliation. In their various forms, whether constituting the immediate family of Saddam Husain and closely affiliated clans, or historically linked sub-groupings within the al-Bu Nasir and in the tribal groupings associated with it, these collectivities have been recognised as more likely than not to incline their members to serve his cause. As the numbers of those who have fallen victim to Saddam Husain’s suspicions will testify, membership does not confer immunity and he himself has never trusted these people unconditionally. Nevertheless, they have enjoyed greater access to the privileges dispensed by the regime than most other social groupings in Iraq, and it is they to whom Saddam Husain has consistently looked for the security of the networks of the ‘shadow state’ throughout the most sensitive—and potentially dangerous—organs of the public state.
It has been pointed out that during the past decade, in particular, Saddam Husain has also sought to extend this kind of recognition to the tribal structures of Iraq more generally.9 Seeing in them some of the virtues which he claims to see in his own tribal background, he has sought to make of the ‘tribes’ of Iraq a key element in the maintenance of social order and in the elaboration of a narrative of Iraqi history that accords more closely with his own statecraft. Saddam Husain has lavished resources on tribal shaikhs and incorporated them and those they claim to lead into his political order in a bid both to give them a stake in the maintenance of his regime and to assign them a distinctive and privileged role in Iraqi history. Not only has this meant the return of the recognition by the state of the authority of tribal shaikhs to settle disputes, it has also led to some curious transformations in the ways in which many ordinary Iraqis have reacted to these changes.
On the one hand, it is noticeable that many of the shaikhs preside over considerable urban constituencies and are no longer the remote figures of rural authority that they once were. On the other hand, possibly as a result of this process and certainly as a result of the mediating power which the recent recognition has granted to them, significant numbers of urban, often professional Iraqis, sometimes several generations removed from a collective existence where their tribal identity meant anything, are known to have sworn allegiance to ‘their’ shaikh in order to be (re-)admitted to ‘their’ tribe. Bizarre and pointless as such behaviour would have seemed only twenty years ago, it has been imbued with significance, even if only of a purely instrumental kind, by a state in which such forms of recognition have material results for people’s life-chances.
As far as Saddam Husain is concerned, there is clearly also an instrumentality to this kind of recognition: he wants a certain kind of social order and, from his own experience of this and of the alternatives, tribal structures can be used to perform such a role. They also—together with other forms of vertical division in society—stand in opposition to association based on horizontal solidarities, such as class identity. Precisely because the language of class politics is also a language of categorical entitlement and the assertion of claims based upon the division of labour, it is antagonistic to the principles of patrimonialism upon which much of Saddam Husain’s power is based. The existence of such solidarities is recognised by the public state in Iraq, as the plethora of state sponsored professional, workers and peasant organisations will testify, presenting a familiar corporatist face to the world.
However, in the ‘shadow state’, such association counts for nothing. Here a different scale of values, and the recognition of more particular identities form the basis of the favour, access and conditional privilege which underpin Saddam Husain’s regime. People have responded to this state of affairs pragmatically, as suggested above. Common economic interests and professional solidarities certainly exist, but they are easily subverted by a regime which chooses to recognise tribal, sectarian and ethnic communities as the channels for its patronage and favour. The key question here is the context in which particular forms of identity are being asserted as the bases for collective action. Hitherto, the context created by the regime of power that is the Iraq of Saddam Husain has overwhelmingly favoured those forms of identity which imply a hierarchical relationship between a chosen few communal representatives and a mass of subordinate supplicants.
It is also possible that, given Saddam Husain’s background and his modus operandi closer to the heart of power, a tribal idiom makes a certain amount of moral, not simply pragmatic sense. Whether he thinks it could exist in this way independent of his own patronage of it, is another matter. In many respects, his other techniques for ensuring non-accountable, vertically structured lines of favour and sanction would suggest that the recognition of tribal identities may be important, but it may only be one among a number of forms of social recognition by which he seeks to maintain his kind of order in Iraq. He thereby helps to sustain a narrative in which once again the fractiousness of Iraqi society appears to demand the ‘leader necessity’ who will exercise strong leadership and prevent social chaos.
In this way, Saddam Husain’s recognition of distinctive Shi`i identities in Iraq through selective patronage of certain Shi`i communal leaders and of personalities and factions within the predominantly Shi`i cities of the south, goes hand in hand with denunciation of Shi`i sectarianism and persecution of distinctively Shi`i organisations, such as al-Da`wa or the Supreme Council for Islamic Revolution in Iraq (SCIRI). This is not, of course, the recognition of the Shi`a as a political actor. On the contrary, it corresponds to an understanding of the many trends and currents which have shaped the political loyalties and inclinations of the Shi`a. Where these have lent themselves to incorporation into the networks of the patrimonial, authoritarian state over which he presides, Saddam Husain has been content to coopt elements from among the Shi`a, as he has done with other sections of the Iraqi population. For instance, in his relations with the Christian and Mandaean minorities in Iraq, Saddam Husain has been willing to grant them recognition, in return for their assumption of responsibility for their communities—regardless of whether all the members of those communities see their political situations in this way.
One could make a similar argument for the nature of Saddam Husain’s long and troubled relations with the Kurdish populations of Iraq. It was he who advocated recognition of the legitimacy of Kurdish nationalism in the 1970s—and spent the ensuing years trying to ensure that those who spoke in its name would in turn recognise his authority and that of the central government in Iraq. Increasingly disappointed with the attitudes of the Kurdish Democratic Party (KDP) and of the Popular Union of Kurdistan (PUK), he turned instead to elements of the Kurdish population who may have felt no less distinctively Kurdish, but who had their own reasons for disputing the leadership claims of the two major parties.
The significance of these patterns of recognition, identification and patronage at this moment of Iraqi political history is twofold. In the first place, it means that many of the individuals and parties operating within the broad field of Iraqi politics (whether this is within the parts of the country controlled by Baghdad, within the Kurdish Autonomous Region, or in the ranks of the exiled opposition movements) are operating within imaginative frameworks which antedate Saddam Husain’s rule, but which may have been recognised and encouraged by him—and incorporated into his regime of power. This element of collusion with a conception of the state which is not far removed from that implemented by Saddam Husain (and by many of his predecessors) has added to the fractious nature of the Iraqi opposition forces in exile. The notoriously divided and antagonistic relations between the dozens of organisations which have sprung up in the past decade or so to give voice to different visions of Iraq’s future are in part the result of the powerless condition of exile.
However, they are also to some degree a response to the different ways of being Shi`i, Sunni, Arab, Kurdish, Yazidi, Assyrian, Turkmen or indeed Iraqi, once these terms have been given currency and recognition. For example, the proliferation of organisations with various ethnic and sectarian labels in the Kurdish Autonomous Region during the past decade or so has been due to a number of factors. First of all, despite the fact that the region is divided effectively between the KDP and the PUK, there is space both geographically and politically for other forms of association to find expression. This has created a necessary but not a sufficient condition for such parties to emerge. Equally important has been the fact that the dominant narrative in this political world is that of Kurdish nationalism, defined by distinct ideas of Kurdish ethnicity. It is scarcely surprising, in response, that other groups, such as the Turkmen or the Assyrians, seek recognition of their distinctive identities and thus the political claims of their own ethnic grouping. Also important for the emergence of the Islamist groups among the Kurds has been the simultaneous dispute about what it means to be Kurdish and the place of Islam—and of Sufism—within that identification. At the same time, the close interest and intervention in the region by the Turkish and the Iranian governments during this period have helped to bestow a useful form of recognition on some of the Turkmen and the Islamist groups, respectively. Many Iraqis, of course, reject these labels altogether. They claim to speak instead for an idea of citizenship and for a liberal conception of the state, where the individual confronts the state not as a member born into some ascriptive group, but as a member of a civic association. Precisely because this is antagonistic both to the Iraqi state centred on Baghdad and to the proto-state in the Kurdish region, it is a trend that has untested appeal within Iraq, but which has gained prominent recognition in the United States and in Western Europe.
This feature raises the second significant aspect of this pattern—namely, the imminent threat of the military occupation of Iraq by the United States. This has made many of the groupings which claim to speak for the Iraqis and which oppose Saddam Husain determined to achieve a form of recognition by the United States, even if it makes others uneasy. The coming together in December 2002 in London of the multitude of Iraqi opposition groups highlighted problems in this search for recognition. In the first place, there was general support for the idea of a ‘federal’ as well as a democratic Iraq, but there were differences about the criteria which would win recognition under a federal system. In some versions, federalism was being advanced as a form of cantonisation, geared to creating a framework of cooperation and minimal trust in a multi-ethnic and multi-sectarian society. In others, it was being championed by those who rejected such labels as a means of simply decentralising the powers of the Iraqi state. Furthermore, the formation at the conference of a 65 person ‘follow-up committee’ which was gradually expanded to unwieldy proportions as other names were added, other political actors recognised, said something about the problems of mutual recognition amongst those who claim to speak for the Iraqis.10
There was also another factor at play. The conference had been convened in part to convince the United States of the capacity of the Iraqi exiled opposition to work together and thus implicitly to cooperate with US plans for state reconstruction in Iraq. This was aimed at deflecting the US administration from recognising the Iraqi military as the only realistic guarantors of social order in Iraq in the aftermath of the collapse of the present regime—a fear kept alive by the remarks made by US officials about the future role of the Iraqi army.11 As the behaviour of the Iraqi National Congress (INC) delegation indicated, there is also an urgent ambition to be recognised by the US as the chief interlocutor in the future dispensation of power in Iraq. The reaction of other delegates showed how contentious this could be, reviving the sensitive question about the fine line dividing recognition from cooption in a way reminiscent of similar debates concerning relationships with the government of Saddam Husain.
This seems to be a harbinger of the period when the US might become the supreme arbiter in Iraq. The obvious striving by various associations for recognition by the dominant power is and will remain a prominent feature. Under present circumstances, some will seek such recognition through the language and practices of collusion, echoing the preoccupations of influential allies in the US administration in the hope of having the favour of delegated power bestowed upon them. Should the regime of Saddam Husain be overthrown, others will seek recognition by demonstrating their capacity to mobilise significant sections of Iraqi society under their identifying banners. Whether collaborating with or opposing the US occupying power, the claim will be that their social weight demands their recognition.
Whilst this is taking place, with all the unforeseeable turns that fate may bring, the second feature of this process of recognition will no doubt begin to show itself. Just as with the British occupying power some eighty five years ago, the possibility of acting within Iraq may bring out very different views in the US administration about the potential of Iraqi society. Considerable differences will probably develop regarding the way to proceed and the appropriate Iraqi actors through which divergent plans for the Iraqi state can best be implemented. On one level, this may revolve around perceptions within the US administration about the reliability, venality and authority of the leaders of particular groupings. Such doubts and differences clearly already exist regarding the leaders of the INC, the Kurdish parties and others.
On another level, however—and this goes to the heart of the argument being presented here—there will be profound differences within the US administration about the nature of existing Iraqi society, about its potential and about the trajectories open to it if certain kinds of change are encouraged. To a large degree, these will hinge on the recognition bestowed upon different Iraqi social actors as legitimate and effective collaborators in the project of state reconstruction. The outlines of at least three of these positions are already discernible. Should the US invade and occupy Iraq, others will no doubt emerge, but these three will undoubtedly remain in some form. The first of these could be called the ‘narrative of the Necessary Leader’—a view of Iraq which largely subscribes to the authoritarian vision of Saddam Husain and his predecessors, in which the many divisions of Iraqi society are taken to be so deep and antagonistic that preventing a slide into chaos becomes the priority. Under this heading, recognition is accorded to those who can exercise effective command over the security and administrative apparatus of the state, even if this means implicit recognition of a ‘shadow state’ to get things done.
Another view apparent in Washington and likely to be influential, places more reliance on the communal leaders of Iraqi society and could be called the ‘Lebanese solution’. Here, recognition would be given to those who can plausibly claim authority over various sections of Iraqi society, conforming to the primordial view of ethnicity, sect and tribe which has been so much in evidence in public debates about Iraq. It would be a recipe for the ‘communalisation’ of the Iraqis and would revolve around trying to work out a framework whereby these supposed ‘communities’ could cooperate in the state project. A third view, which could be called the ‘Liberal future’ would bestow recognition on those Iraqis who claim to champion individual rights, the breaking of state monopolies in the economy and the representation of people as individual citizens, not as members of prescribed communities. This is a well articulated aspiration of a significant number of Iraqi intellectuals in exile and clearly appeals to the liberal imagination in the US. However, it is far more radical in its implications for the refounding of Iraqi political society and will have to contend with entrenched internal opposition, and with opposing visions which might cause less immediate disruption. It would also be faced with some of the internal contradictions of the liberal individualist view of the world in which, for instance, the emergence of a distinctively Islamist politics may cause problems.
Of course, none of these problems is insuperable. The question of which version of an Iraqi reality will be brought into being by external intervention and recognition will depend upon a variety of unforeseen factors, including the stamina and resources which the US and its allies might bring to the task. Short-term commitment and criteria of success which simply require the removal of Saddam Husain from power will clearly favour the first option, leaving unrecognised and unacknowledged the many voices of Iraq that exist beyond the monotone of its central state apparatus. A longer-term commitment, if it is sought, will raise more interesting questions about the balance of communal recognition versus individual recognition as the basis for the polity. Here the possibility of a radically new departure for Iraq does exist. These differences are already visible in the ways in which various branches of the US administration talk about and act towards Iraq. They will become even sharper should the US find itself in the position of administering Iraq itself. It is then that there will come to the fore questions of which social formations become recognised by the US and identified as significant political actors in the shaping of the country’s future. The question of political recognition of their social reality will thus become crucial for the Iraqis—a matter of opportunity and disappointment for some, but for others a matter of life and death. - January 2003
1 Nowhere is this better captured than in the works of the Iraqi social historian `Ali al-Wardi, especially in Parts 5 and 6 of his six part work Lamahat Ijtima`iyya min Ta’rikh al-`Iraq al-Hadith [Social aspects the modern history of Iraq] (Baghdad: Matba`a al-Adib al-Baghdadiyya, 1969-1978).
2 P. Sluglett, Britain in Iraq 1914-1932 (London: Ithaca Press, 1976); B.T. Dodge, Social Perception and State Formation: The British in Iraq (Unpublished PhD Dissertation, University of London, 2002); E. Dowson, An Inquiry into Land Tenure and Related Questions (Letchworth: HMSO, 1931).
3 S. Zubaida, ‘Community, Class and Minorities in Iraqi Politics’, pp. 197-210, in R. A. Fernea and W. R. Louis (eds.) The Iraqi Revolution of 1958 (London: IB Tauris, 1991); S. Zubaida, ‘The Fragments Imagine the Nation: The case of Iraq’, International Journal of Middle East Studies 34 (2002), pp. 205-215.
4 H. Batatu, The Old Social Classes and the Revolutionary Movements of Iraq (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1978), pp. 866-889, 912-921.
5 Qasim (1958-1963) relied increasingly on his limited circle of kinsmen and had effectively undermined the secular, ideological, coalition-based parties of the National Democrats and the Iraqi Communists, whilst granting recognition to parties based on Islamic and on Kurdish identities. The `Arif brothers (1963-1968) relied even more heavily on their fellow tribesmen of the al-Jumailah from the Ramadi area, recruiting them to the units of the Republican Guard which had the principal duty of guarding the regime.
6 C. Tripp, A History of Iraq (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2002), pp. 148-167, 175-192.
7 Hani al-Fakaiki, Awkar al-Hazima: tajribati fi Hizb al-Ba`th al-`Iraqi [Dens of defeat: my experience in the Iraqi Ba`th Party] (London: Riad El-Rayyis Books, 1993); `Aziz al-Hajj, Dhakirat al-Nakhil [The memory of the palm tree] (Beirut: Al-Mu’assasa al-`Arabiyya li-l-Dirasat wa-l-Nashr, 1993).
8 D. McDowall, A Modern History of the Kurds (London: IB Tauris, 1996), pp. 324-332.
9 A. Baram, ‘Neo-Tribalism in Iraq: Saddam Hussein’s tribal policies 1991-96’, International Journal of Middle East Studies 29 (1997), pp. 1-31.
10 Craig S. Smith, ‘Groups Outline Plans for Governing a Post-Hussein Iraq’, New York Times, 18 December 2002.
11 ‘The Long Road to Democracy’, The Guardian, 16 December 2002; Cameron Barr, ‘Iraqi exiles want US in—and then out’, Christian Science Monitor, 16 December 2002.