A Vote for Hope

By Bobby Ghosh/Baghdad

Kids in the street. Of all the improbable images from Iraq's historic election day, none captured the mood of the nation better than the sight of children flying out into the open. There have been times since the fall of Saddam Hussein when Iraq's cities have seemed childless, as parents have tried to shield their kids from kidnappers, gun battles and car bombs. And yet on Jan. 30, widely predicted to be the most dangerous day since the end of the war--so dangerous that the government banned vehicular traffic--the streets seemed to be overrun by children: playing soccer in the shadow of U.S. Abrams tanks, chasing other kids in impromptu games of catch, accompanying their parents to polling booths, decked out in their newest clothes. "It's a big day, and I wanted my girls to experience it," said Amina Hussein, a Baghdad housewife, as she and her husband tried to subdue three giggling preteen daughters at a voting booth in the downtown Karrada district. "When they are older, God willing, they will vote in many elections. But this is the one they will never forget."

Given the chaos of Iraq's recent past and the uncertainty of what lies ahead, it was understandable that so many wanted to make this one hopeful moment last. Days after the vote, Iraqis were still waving index fingers stained with the dark ink that proved they had taken part. In solidarity, members of the U.S. Congress showed up at the State of the Union address with their own digits dyed purple. On election day President Bush woke at 5 a.m. to watch news reports of how the vote was going. After his advisers told him that early indications showed higher-than-expected turnout, Bush stayed glued to the results. "For millions of Iraqis, it was an act of personal courage," he said, "and they have earned the respect of us all." Even the insurgents appeared taken aback by the outburst of people power: there were no major attacks anywhere in Iraq in the two days after the election.

It couldn't last, of course. Extremist groups resumed their campaign of attacks, mainly against Iraqi security forces, killing 12 in an ambush in Kirkuk. Even so, the vote jump-started a first chapter in democracy: before the ballots were even counted, politicians in Baghdad were already engaging in the ancient art of dealmaking. Early trends suggest that the so-called Sistani List--a slate of religious Shi'ites and secular parties that has the backing of Grand Ayatullah Ali Husaini Sistani--has won a majority in the 275-member Transitional National Assembly. Vying for second place are a unified Kurdish list and the secular list of interim Prime Minister Iyad Allawi, Washington's preferred candidate.

The strong showing of the Shi'ite religious parties was particularly unsettling to the country's Sunni minority, which saw its historical dominance of Iraqi politics come to a crashing end. "There can be no more denying that there is a split among the Iraqis," says Wamidh Nadhmi, a Baghdad political scientist and moderate Sunni leader. "Now there's an Us and a Them--and They are in power." The Sunnis themselves never got the opportunity to choose, since most of their leaders boycotted the elections. Moderate politicians remained caught between the desire to join the political process and the fear of being tarred as traitors by the extremists and the clerics. Ammar Zain Alabideen, spokesman for the Iraqi Islamic Party, the largest Sunni political grouping, said party officials received "thousands of calls" on election day from Sunnis who wished they could join their Shi'ite and Kurdish neighbors at the polls. "They kept asking us why [we boycotted the election]," says Alabideen. "They said, 'If you hadn't, we could have voted for you.'" Alabideen himself felt conflicted on that Sunday morning. "I was satisfied with our decision to stay out, but I was also sad," he says. "I felt we missed a chance to give something to our people."

Estimates put Sunni participation at 25% or lower. Reaching across the chasm will require statesmanship from the Shi'ite leadership as well as the Sunnis. The Association of Muslim Scholars, an influential Sunni clerical body, declared the vote illegitimate but also said it might be willing to work with the new government. The biggest test: bringing Sunnis into the process of drafting a new constitution, which will be voted on in a fall referendum. If the constitution is ratified, elections for a permanent government will be held by the end of the year. In the meantime, many Iraqis who voted on Sunday have their sights on narrower but no less sensitive goals. The high turnout in the north--perhaps as high as 90%--will probably allow the Kurds to punch above their weight in the Assembly, so expect the perennially thorny issue of Kurdish independence to rise quickly to the top of the parliamentary agenda. Anecdotal evidence suggests that Iraq's women voted in large numbers; with 25% of seats in the Assembly reserved for them, Iraqi women will wield political clout unknown elsewhere in the Middle East. "If anybody thinks we're just going to be ornaments in the Assembly," says Raja al-Khuzai, one of the country's leading women politicians, "they're fooling themselves."

No one knows yet whether the giddiness that accompanied the election will itself prove a trick, an illusory respite from the daily jolts of bombs, mortar rounds and kidnappings. The Pentagon announced that 15,000 troops would leave Iraq, but few believe the Iraqis are yet ready to defend themselves. Joint Chiefs of Staff Chairman General Richard Myers admitted last week that of the 136,000 Iraqi security forces that have so far been trained, only 40,000 are fully combat ready, able to "go anywhere in the country and take on any threat." In Washington, an e-mail making the rounds reminded those U.S. officials heartened by voter turnout in Iraq that in 1967, U.S. officials were heartened by voter turnout in South Vietnam too. Even in Baghdad, the defiant spirit of election day was no match for common sense: the morning after the vote, the kids were off the streets. --With reporting by Matthew Cooper and Elaine Shannon/ Washington

With reporting by Matthew Cooper; Elaine Shannon/ Washington