IRAQ: Whether or not to support the new government is preoccupying Iraqis, writes Lara Marlowe
Nawar, a mechanical engineer, and his sweetheart, Enas, a college student, were officially engaged to be married on Friday night.
However, the ritual at the home of the bride-to-be was almost derailed by a family row over the question tearing Iraq apart.
Is it time to make jihad against US forces, or should Iraqis co-operate with the new government that will take over from the occupation authority on Wednesday? The terms of an Iraqi marriage contract depend on the balance of power, so the groom's family shows up in force at the bride's home. Details to be settled include where the couple will live, how much the groom will pay for the wedding, and the financial settlement in the event of divorce.
Nawar's relatives had a decided advantage. The groom-to-be mustered 10 male relatives, including the source who recounted this story to The Irish Times. They looked down on the shabby neighbourhood with unpaved roads where the bride's family lives, near the highway to Baghdad airport. Enas's father Mohamed has fallen on hard times. His former job as a rocket and missile specialist in Saddam's army no longer exists. To make matters worse for the bride, only three of her male relatives could be there to defend her interests. The extended family is from Baquba, 66 km northeast of Baghdad, and the road is cut because of fighting between US troops and insurgents.
Politics can be an ice-breaker, so a guest started out with a joke about the "transfer of sovereignty" on Wednesday. "The bad people are asking [the Iraqi interim President Ghazi] Yawar for one week to loot," said Abu Hussein. The family are Sunni Muslims, and Abu Hussein's humour targeted the poor Shia who ravaged Baghdad after the regime fell.
"Yes, Moqtada's followers want to loot!" said Abu Mohamed, a cousin of the groom and like him a mechanical engineer. "The Americans have made such a mess of things! "They're doing the bombings and blaming the Muslims," another guest added. "Now is the time for jihad!" Abu Mohamed declared.
"You don't start a jihad like that," his brother Abu Omar protested. "Jihad has rules and regulations. It has to be ordered by an important sheikh."
The bride's father Mohamed joined in. "Abu Hodeifi has ordered a jihad," he said, referring to his own brother-in-law, a Sunni sheikh so radical that he refused to allow his wife, the bride's aunt, to attend the engagement party. For guests who didn't know Abu Hodeifi, Mohamed described the tall, thin, bearded cleric who wears a khamis (white shirt) that falls only to mid-calf, not the ankles, in the style of the fundamentalist Wahabis.
"The shorter the khamis, the more important the sheikh," the former missile man continued. "You know that Abu Hodeifi asked me to give explosives training to the resistance?" The guests waited in silent anticipation, but the bride's father evaded the obvious question. "After five minutes listening to Abu Hodeifi, you're ready to run out in the street and fire an RPG [rocket propelled grenade] at the Americans!" he said with a laugh.
"How can we rebuild this country if Iraqis keep attacking foreigners and policemen?" asked Abu Nawar, the groom's father. "It's giving us a bad name. And besides, beheading hostages is a crime in Islam." He had a point there, the guests agreed. But, they also concurred, the Americans won't leave unless you scare them.
Abu Omar resumed his argument in favour of reconstruction and against jihad. "The Russians left [after electrical engineers were briefly kidnapped in April]. Who will repair our electricity system now? The Americans aren't ready to die to do it."
"People who say they want to rebuild the country instead of making jihad just want to make money off the Americans," Abu Mohamed said, scowling at his brother, Abu Omar. The groom's family shifted uneasily on their chairs. Abu Omar, an engineer, worked on a building contract for the occupation authority until the company's owner was murdered a few weeks ago.
An awkward silence fell over the gathering, at the spectacle of brothers arguing over the appropriate response to occupation, and the realisation that no one had mentioned the betrothed couple.
Nawar's grandfather finally found the requisite words: his family would be honoured to make Enas one of theirs. "And we are honoured to join your family. We have known you for 30 years," her father Mohamed replied. He recited the opening words of the Koran.
One man went to tell the women. Nawar rose to shake hands with his soon-to-be father-in-law and kissed him on both cheeks. The men drank juice and ate sweets. None of them saw the bride, but since she hadn't figured in their conversation, perhaps it didn't matter.