Iraq’s Sadr and communist sickle join forces for election

Iraq's powerful Shiite cleric Moqtada al-Sadr addresses the media. (AFP)
Updated 11 March 2018
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Iraq’s Sadr and communist sickle join forces for election

BAGHDAD: Supporters of a black-turbaned Shiite cleric are seeing red in the runup to Iraq’s May elections thanks to an unprecedented alliance with the once-powerful communist party.
Populist preacher Moqtada Sadr has defied his clerical rivals and opted to campaign for the May 12 poll alongside former enemies, Marxists who demand a secular state.
“This alliance is a first in Iraq,” said Ibrahim Al-Jaberi, a Sadrist official.
“It’s a revolution by Iraqis who want reforms — both secularists, like the communists, and by moderate Islamists.”
Jaberi, a 34-year-old cleric who sports a red beard along with his black turban and gown, heads every Friday to central Baghdad’s Tahrir Square to address hundreds of anti-government protesters.
“This alliance is no surprise because for more than two years we’ve been fighting together in every province against sectarianism,” he said.
Civil society activists launched the protest movement in July 2015, demanding reforms, better public services and an end to corruption.
They were later joined by followers of Sadr, the populist scion of a dynasty of religious elders.
“The demands weren’t at all sectarian — they were for the rule of law and for a civil state for the citizen,” said Raed Fahmi, secretary of the Iraqi Communist Party and an ex-science and technology minister.
“The important thing is that it allowed people from the Islamist movement and secularists to work together,” he said.
Communists dominated Iraqi politics in the 1950s, but were crushed and marginalized under dictator Saddam Hussein’s Baath Party. Today, the party has just one member of parliament.
Shiite religious parties have come to play a greater role in the years since the US-led 2003 invasion of Iraq that toppled Saddam.
Fahmi said the protest movement had given rise to cooperation “between people who, in principle, have nothing in common ideologically.”
“That then evolved into a political alliance,” he said.
His office was adorned with a red flag bearing the hammer and sickle alongside the Iraqi flag with the inscription: “God is Greatest.”
The alliance, dubbed “Marching toward Reform,” is made up of six mostly non-Islamist groups, including the communists, and a Sadr-backed technocratic party called Istiqama (“Integrity“).
Sadr has withdrawn his Ahrar bloc from parliament and urged its 33 MPs not to stand in the May poll, in order to make way for the joint list.
On Tahrir Square, women in black chador smiled but didn’t talk to their unveiled counterparts.
Nadia Nasser, a 43-year-old teacher in chador, said their goal was “to change the horrible leaders that have governed us for 14 years.”
“I’m sick of corruption. I’m in favor of this alliance because I want to see new faces,” she said.
Qassem Mozan, a 42-year-old day laborer, said the alliance was natural.
“The Sadrist movement is open to all parties and confessions,” he said “For me, we’re one people with a single flag.”
Yet 44-year-old populist Moqtada Sadr was not so ecumenical during the years following the 2003 invasion.
His militia, the Mahdi Army, was accused of setting up death squads targeting Sunni Muslims. Sadr himself was accused of ordering the 2003 murder of rival Abdelmajid Al-Khoei.
Sadrist militiamen also attacked bars and beat homosexuals until he ordered them to stop in 2016.
Jassem Al-Hilfi, a smiling, greying 58-year-old communist who helps organize the protests, said he remembered his first meeting with Sadr, in 2015 in the Shiite holy city of Najaf.
“We presented him with our plans to fight corruption and create a civilian state through the ballot box. He listened to us and said he was willing and ready to cooperate,” he said.
Hilfi and Sadr have met every two weeks since.
Jaberi said some say “it’s impossible” for secularists and the religious to work together.
But “it’s not an ideological alliance,” he said. “Everyone has their convictions.”
That hasn’t shielded the coalition from heavy criticism by other powerful Shiite religious parties.
“They launched a war against our list and attack us on their TV channels,” Jaberi said, smiling. “That shows how weak the corrupt are and how strong we are.”


Palestinians in the West Bank struggle to get by as Israel severely limits work permits

Updated 6 sec ago
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Palestinians in the West Bank struggle to get by as Israel severely limits work permits

  • Many Palestinians in the occupied West Bank are struggling to get by after losing their permits to work inside Israel
  • Israel revoked around 100,000 permits after Hamas’ Oct. 7, 2023, attack ignited the war in the Gaza Strip
TULKAREM, West Bank: Hanadi Abu Zant hasn’t been able to pay rent on her apartment in the occupied West Bank for nearly a year after losing her permit to work inside Israel. When her landlord calls the police on her, she hides in a mosque.
“My biggest fear is being kicked out of my home. Where will we sleep, on the street?” she said, wiping tears from her cheeks.
She is among some 100,000 Palestinians whose work permits were revoked after Hamas’ Oct. 7, 2023, attack ignited the war in the Gaza Strip. Confined to the occupied territory, where jobs are scarce and wages far lower, they face dwindling and dangerous options as the economic crisis deepens.
Some have sold their belongings or gone into debt as they try to pay for food, electricity and school expenses for their children. Others have paid steep fees for black-market permits or tried to sneak into Israel, risking arrest or worse if they are mistaken for militants.
Israel, which has controlled the West Bank for nearly six decades, says it is under no obligation to allow Palestinians to enter for work and makes such decisions based on security considerations. Thousands of Palestinians are still allowed to work in scores of Jewish settlements across the West Bank, built on land they want for a future state.
Risk of collapse
The World Bank has warned that the West Bank economy is at risk of collapse because of Israel’s restrictions. By the end of last year, unemployment had surged to nearly 30 percent compared with around 12 percent before the war, according to the Palestinian Central Bureau of Statistics.
Before the war, tens of thousands of Palestinians worked inside Israel, mainly in construction and service jobs. Wages can be more than double those in the landlocked West Bank, where decades of Israeli checkpoints, land seizures and other restrictions have weighed heavily on the economy. Palestinians also blame the Palestinian Authority, which exercises limited self-rule in parts of the territory, for not doing enough to create jobs.
About 100,000 Palestinians had work permits that were revoked after the outbreak of the war. Israel has since reinstated fewer than 10,000, according to Gisha, an Israeli group advocating for Palestinian freedom of movement.
Wages earned in Israel injected some $4 billion into the Palestinian economy in 2022, according to the Institute for National Security Studies, an Israeli think tank. That’s equivalent to about two-thirds of the Palestinian Authority’s budget that year.
An Israeli official said Palestinians do not have an inherent right to enter Israel, and that permits are subject to security considerations. The official spoke on condition of anonymity in line with regulations.
Israel seized the West Bank, Gaza and east Jerusalem in the 1967 Mideast war, territories the Palestinians want for a future state. Some 3 million Palestinians live in the West Bank, along with over 500,000 Israeli settlers who can come and go freely.
The war in Gaza has brought a spike in Palestinian attacks on Israelis as well as settler violence. Military operations that Israel says are aimed at dismantling militant groups have caused heavy damage in the West Bank and displaced tens of thousands of Palestinians.
‘My refrigerator, it’s empty’
After her husband left her five years ago, Abu Zant secured a job at a food-packing plant in Israel that paid around $1,400 a month, enough to support her four children. When the war erupted, she thought the ban would only last a few months. She baked pastries for friends to scrape by.
Hasan Joma, who ran a business in Tulkarem before the war helping people find work in Israel, said Palestinian brokers are charging more than triple the price for a permit.
While there are no definite figures, tens of thousands of Palestinians are believed to be working illegally in Israel, according to Esteban Klor, professor of economics at Israel’s Hebrew University and a senior researcher at the INSS. Some risk their lives trying to cross Israel’s separation barrier, which consists of 9-meter high (30-foot) concrete walls, fences and closed military roads.
Shuhrat Barghouthi’s husband has spent five months in prison for trying to climb the barrier to enter Israel for work, she said. Before the war, the couple worked in Israel earning a combined $5,700 a month. Now they are both unemployed and around $14,000 in debt.
“Come and see my refrigerator, it’s empty, there’s nothing to feed my children,” she said. She can’t afford to heat her apartment, where she hasn’t paid rent in two years. She says her children are often sick and frequently go to bed hungry.
Sometimes she returns home to see her belongings strewn in the street by the landlord, who has been trying to evict them.
Forced to work in settlements
Of the roughly 48,000 Palestinians who worked in Israeli settlements before the war, more than 65 percent have kept their permits, according to Gisha. The Palestinians and most of the international community view the settlements, which have rapidly expanded in recent years, as illegal.
Israeli officials did not respond to questions about why more Palestinians are permitted to work in the settlements.
Palestinians employed in the settlements, speaking on condition of anonymity for fear of retribution, say their employers have beefed up security since the start of the war and are far more willing to fire anyone stepping out of line, knowing there are plenty more desperate for work.
Two Palestinians working in the Mishor Adumim settlement said security guards look through workers’ phones and revoke their permits arbitrarily.
Israelis have turned to foreign workers to fill jobs held by Palestinians, but some say it’s a poor substitute because they cost more and do not know the language. Palestinians speak Arabic, but those who work in Israel are often fluent in Hebrew.
Raphael Dadush, an Israeli developer, said the permit crackdown has resulted in costly delays.
Before the war, Palestinians made up more than half his workforce. He’s tried to replace them with Chinese workers but says it’s not exactly the same. He understands the government’s decision, but says it’s time to find a way for Palestinians to return that ensures Israel’s security.
Assaf Adiv, the executive director of an Israeli group advocating for Palestinian labor rights, says there has to be some economic integration or there will be “chaos.”
“The alternative to work in Israel is starvation and desperation,” he said.