Manaf al-Rawi giving an interview after his arrest

Perhaps the most puzzling figures in Islamic State history is Manaf al-Rawi. He was part of the movement from its earliest days in Iraq, having joined the Rawah Camp early on and trained alongside its founders and its ~100 recruits. During this time, he was in close proximity to Abu Musab al-Zarqawi’s inner circle, which he would eventually join outright. He later fought in the First Battle of Fallujah. While in Fallujah, Manaf was among the five men who beheaded Nick Berg. He is the figure second from the left. Later in the video of the execution, he is even the one who holds up Berg’s severed head.

Image credit to Daniele Raineri

Manaf was eventually arrested in Fallujah and sentenced to prison in mid-2004. In his first prison sentence, he was a senior figure for the Zarqawists and worked to ensure their dominance over other prison factions. After his release in 2007, he became the wali, or governor, of Baghdad, where he led a devastating campaign of mass-casualty strikes, oftentimes killing and wounding several hundred people at once. In 2010, he was again arrested, but this time, he betrayed IS and supplied the intelligence that led to the deaths of Abu Umar al-Baghdadi and Abu Hamza al-Muhajir, the two co-leaders of IS at the time. The exact reason for his betrayal–after many years of fanatical service to the jihadists–is still unclear.

Strangely, Manaf remains highly celebrated in IS history. In a recent biography of IS’s third “caliph,” Abu al-Hassan, Manaf is respectfully called “Shaykh,” and Abu al-Hassan’s proximity to him–first in Rawah, then in Fallujah, and lastly in Camp Bucca–is stated as a credit to Abu al-Hassan’s prestige. Another example of Manaf’s lasting “celebrity” within IS is the first source below. It is a memoir of Manaf written by his friend, Abu Abdullah al-Sunni al-Kurdi (a Kurdish jihadist). The memoir focuses on the two individuals’ shared time in prison during Manaf’s first sentence (2004-07), and it reveals a great deal about IS activities behind bars in general and Manaf’s ideological fanaticism in particular.

Abu Abdullah reports several notable incidents. First, Manaf led a prison riot that began in protest of US camp guards ripping up the Quran. The guards shot down the rioting prisoners, killing and wounding over a dozen, and Manaf himself fought for an hour under gunfire. He was later involved in fierce prison rivalries with other factions, especially one non-jihadist group, contemptuously called the Murji’ah. Abu Abdullah recounts that Manaf brutally attacked one member of this group for his “insolence” against the jihadists. Manaf also threatened a supposedly “pro-Shiite” rival, Mahdi al-Sumayda’i, against preaching in their shared compound, successfully halting his political activities. However, the most interesting incident is an attempted prison break. Manaf and several other prisoners secretly dug a tunnel underneath the prison to eventually escape. The diggers were Sunni Arab Iraqis, but the plan–as laid out by Manaf and the others–was for the Kurdish and foreign Arab jihadists to escape first, then for the diggers to escape. The plan failed, but Abu Abdullah was eventually released from prison before Manaf, and the two would never see each other again. Manaf would be released some time later and became the wali of Baghdad, leading a brutal campaign during 2008-10 before his final arrest and prison sentence.

It was during this second sentence that Manaf would be interviewed by Iraqi and international media, one of which (with al-Iraqiya news) is the second source below. Something immediately apparent in the interview is Manaf’s lack of repentance for his actions. In the first question, he is asked whether he thinks about his victims while watching footage of his attacks on television, and he retorts that he “does not watch television.” In the last question, he is asked whether he feels regret, and he answers that his “regret would not be of much use now.” In the same candid spirit, he reveals many details about the inner workings of IS at the time of his arrest–and even more interesting, about the early history of the movement, which we will unpack.

At the time of the Baath’s collapse, Manaf was in the Zayuna neighborhood in Baghdad. The ensuing Coalition occupation inspired militant youth to take arms–taken from the abandoned stockpiles of the defunct Fidayin Saddam–and prepare for war. Manaf met an individual–seemingly a jihadist recruiter–through his relatives in Zayuna, and the two began discussing fighting the Americans. This individual was originally from Rawah and he told Manaf about the jihadist camp at Rawah, officially called Sahl al-Amir (سحل الامير), a name that Manaf reveals here for the first time. The Rawah Camp had already reached roughly 100 members by the time Manaf was invited to it. The invitation itself is quite revealing of jihadist networking at the time, as Baghdad is quite far from Rawah. The vast majority of those 100 fighters were foreigners, while the Iraqis among them seemed to focus on recruiting other Iraqis like Manaf to their cause. That he met this recruiter through the recruiter’s family seems to suggest that a part of jihadist networking in this period relied on familial circles. This is also suggested by Zarqawi’s presence among a network of sympathetic Palestinian-Iraqi families in the Baladiyat neighborhood of Baghdad before the war.

The exact timeline of Manaf’s recruitment and the bombing of the Rawah Camp is unclear. He reports that the Camp was bombed in June 2003, killing 86 jihadists, which matches Abu Muhammad al-Salmani’s narrative. Among the survivors was a man called Ghassan al-Rawi. Manaf spoke with a “Muhammad Abu Azzam” about fighting the Coalition, then expressed his interest in joining the network. He next went to Rawah, where he met Ghassan and Abu Muhammad al-Lubnani. At this stage, Manaf reports that their number was around twenty, suggesting that it was after the bombing of Sahl al-Amir. This would mean that the Camp continued to be used after the bombing, or another one in Rawah was formed soon after. He cryptically adds that Lubnani was from “outside the [Rawah] camp,” seemingly implying Lubnani’s involvement in camps elsewhere in Iraq. Once recruited, Manaf partook in an operation against US forces between Rawah and Anah, though there was still no declared organization at this time.

Over time, Manaf grew closer to Abu Muhammad al-Lubnani–other reports indicate that he was initially Lubnani’s driver–so he joined the latter’s inner circle. Speaking still of 2003, Manaf reports that Lubnani frequently visited Fallujah to meet Zarqawi and Abu Anas al-Shami. In late 2003, they announced the formation of Jama’at al-Tawhid wal-Jihad (JTJ). The exact timeline of events here is also unclear. The Distinguished Martyrs series and other highly reliable narratives all report that JTJ was formed by the twelve jihadist cofounders at the Rawah Camp before its destruction. This might suggest that the announcement of JTJ’s existence went through phases: first, it was secretly formed in mid-2003; then it was announced locally in Iraq in late 2003; and then it was declared globally in spring 2004. Manaf reports that Zarqawi and Shami were located in Fallujah, while Lubnani was elsewhere. He claims to have met Zarqawi only once in 2004 to discuss events in Fallujah. This was deceptive, as we know Manaf was with Zarqawi and the others to behead Nick Berg. This grisly event took place in the Julan neighborhood of Fallujah in May 2004. The rest of Manaf’s interview describes the nature of ISI operations in Baghdad.

“The Lofty Mountain, Manaf al-Rawi–may God have mercy on him”

In the name of God, the Most Gracious, the Most Merciful

Praise be to God, and prayers and peace be upon the Messenger of God, and upon his family, his companions, and those who follow him.

To proceed [wa ba’ad]:

Long ago, I heard from others that the friendship formed between brothers within the confines of prison walls is unlike any other friendship. It was not until I saw it with my own eyes and suffered the ordeal of captivity that I became fully convinced of the truth of the saying–conveyed to us by our beloved Messenger (may my father and mother be sacrificed for him, peace and blessings be upon him): “Hearing about a matter is not like witnessing it firsthand” [Lit. “The news is not like the direct witness”] (narrated by Ahmad, authenticated by Ibn Hibban and al-Hakim). I spent days and months in Camp Bucca, near Basra, alongside people whom I will never forget for as long as I live–or until I attain martyrdom, by the permission of God Almighty. Among these noble souls was my brother and beloved friend in God, my companion on the journey through Camp Bucca–Abu Abdullah Manaf al-Rawi (may God have mercy on him). I wish to pen a few lines recounting my memories of him.

Before we fell into captivity, God had brought us together in the proud city of Fallujah–in the home of a relative of Shaykh Umar Hadid–in the year 1425 AH [2004 CE]. He [Manaf] was captured months before me, and I was captured after him in Fallujah. After we were transferred from Abu Ghraib to Camp Bucca, God bestowed a great favor upon me by placing me in Compound Five, where the finest of the imprisoned brothers were held. Among them were Shaykh Abu Hammam al-Sa’idi, Hajj Ghazwan al-Tarmiya, our brother Manaf (may God Almighty have mercy on them all), and the virtuous brother Abu Bara al-Dhuluwiya (may God release him from captivity). My relationship with them quickly deepened, especially with the noble Shaykh Abu Hamam al-Sa'idi and the gallant lion Manaf al-Rawi.

I witnessed in our brother Manaf immense courage, zeal, chivalry, and a steadfast defense of the faith, the creed of Ahlus-Sunnah wal-Jama’ah [i.e., Sunni Islam], and the path of truth. I recall the day the Americans tore up the Book of God in our compound–may God Almighty tear them apart!! The prisoners rose as one man to defend the Book of our Lord, the Mighty and Majestic. Four of our finest brothers were martyred, and fifteen others were wounded after the guards opened fire on us. I saw our brother Manaf at the forefront of the brothers, repeatedly crying out “Allahu Akbar.” He remained steadfast for an hour after the shooting began. I witnessed the brothers attaining martyrdom while facing the Crusaders–a small band of brothers chanting, “Allahu Akbar, Allahu Akbar, Allahu Akbar.” I observed in him determination, seriousness in action, and severity towards innovators.

We were held in detention alongside a number of lackeys belonging to the extremist Murji’ah–individuals harboring malice toward the monotheist mujahidin of Ahlus-Sunnah. The brothers used to label them al-Inbitahiyah [loosely, “Submissive Ones”]. I viewed them as khawarij1 toward us yet Murji’ah toward the disbelievers and apostates–to the point where I heard one of them weeping upon seeing a picture of the tyrant Saddam!

I vividly recall one night when our brother Manaf beat one of them severely, drawing blood, to punish him for his insolence toward the muwahidin. He had told a fellow prisoner that the Rawafidh [sectarian slur for Shiites – Rob] in Block Three were better off than the so-called khawarij in this block (referring to the monotheist brothers). I will never forget that stance taken by our brother Manaf, who harshly disciplined that Jahmi.2 Some time after the beating, our brother Manaf told me that the man he had beaten, came to him and said, “You and I are on the same path!” And so this incident transpired so that no one would dare to favor the Rawafidh–people of polytheism and absurd superstitions–over the pure muwahidin, who are the best nation ever brought forth for mankind.

He was a high-spirited brother who deeply loved his fellow believers. I recall that the brothers in Camp Five dug a tunnel to escape the prison. Our brother Manaf was among those who would venture deep into the tunnel to dig. Entering and working in that tunnel was a mission akin to a martyrdom [istishhadi] operation–a form of plunging into the jaws of death–because the soil in Basra is soft and sandy. Every day, a large tanker truck would pass over the tunnel twice to refuel the generators for the disbelievers, while the brothers worked in the tunnel directly beneath it. A group of the Iraqi brothers, Sunni Arabs, would go deep into the tunnel to work. They decided that once they finished digging the tunnel, the first to escape would be the [foreign] Arab muhajirin and the Kurdish brothers, as their plight was more difficult. Only then would the Iraqi brothers–those who actually did the work–would exit. May God reward them greatly among the brothers! And one of those who truly embodied the meaning of nusra [“support”] and brotherhood was our brother Manaf, may God have abundant mercy on him.

Our brother was the spearhead against the disbelievers and apostates in the prison. I remember that after we were transferred from Compound Six (the punishment compound) to Compound Ten, a group of prisoners had been admitted before us, among whom was Mahdi al-Sumayda’i, the head of disbelief and the apostate agent of the Rawafidh. He had appointed himself the leader of the compound and sought to sow havoc and spread corruption–just as he had done at Abu Ghraib Detention Center, where he had fought against the muwahid brothers and sided with a notorious Rafidhi criminal. When we arrived at the compound, as we were thinking about how best to cultivate a generation of monotheist mujahidin within the prison, we decided to tell him that he must relinquish control of the camp and had no right to interfere in any matter. We agreed to send our brother Manaf to convey this message. He went to him and said, “Stay in your caravan and leave this matter.” And thus, God extinguished the sedition of the apostate Sumayda’i through our brother Manaf. Praise be to God!

My last moments with our brother Manaf occurred before God blessed me with release and freedom from prison. I was released before him, and I recall that when my name was called for release, he told me–overcome by the intense sorrow of parting–that he could not bring himself to bid me farewell. He did not even accompany me to the compound’s exit gate but sat in his place.

And so I wished to briefly share some memories of that lion during our time in captivity. As for his courage, boldness, and success in managing the affairs of Wilayah Baghdad [Baghdad Province], these need no elaboration, for the bloody days in Baghdad bear witness to his efforts. Who among us has not heard of Bloody Tuesday, Bloody Wednesday, Blood Thursday, etc? Indeed, his shrewd wit and intelligence in dismantling the Ministries of Polytheism and Apostasy–and dealing with the apostates therein–bear witness that our departed knight truly made the polytheist Rawafidh taste tides of devastating torment!

After our brother Manaf was captured for the second time, the tyrants sentenced him to death. He was subsequently executed–killed in captivity. As recorded in a hadith classified as sound: “A killing in captivity wipes away every sin it touches.”3 May God have mercy on him–a brother, a friend, and a companion–and peace be upon his soul among the eternal. I ask God Almighty to accept our brother Manaf–and all those slain on this path–into the ranks of the martyrs, and to join us with them as martyrs who advance and do not retreat. For those who wish to read more about the virtues of Abu Abdullah Manaf and see how the eyes of men wept for him, let them read what was written by Imam Shaykh Abu Musab al-Zarqawi–may God have mercy on him–in an article titled “When Men Weep” [‘Indima Yabki al-Rijal].

Written by:
Abu Abdullah al-Sunni al-Kurdi

“The suicide bombers were Arabs, and the bombings of the Ministries of Foreign and Finance cost $150,000.”

Interview Introduction

The al-Iraqiya channel conducted an extensive interview with Manaf al-Rawi–the terrorist of the Wahhabi Al Qaida organization who was given the title “Wali [Governor] of Baghdad”–in which he confessed to joining the terrorist organization, personally carrying out a number of criminal operations, or issuing orders for their execution.

Rawi confessed that he planned the bombings of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and the Ministry of Finance, saying: “The explosive materials used in the operation came from Mosul, and even the suicide bombers–most of them [foreign] Arabs–come from Syria via Mosul. For any operation entrusted to me for execution, I study it, determine its costs, and send a request for the necessary funds to carry it out, and indeed the money arrives via regular mail in dollars. The operation on the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and the Ministry of Finance cost a total of $150,000.”

Below is some of what was contained in the confessions of the terrorist Manaf al-Rawi:

I was born in Moscow in 1975. My father was an officer and was studying engineering before he was martyred in the Iran war in 1980. I returned to Iraq after that, and my mother took charge of my affairs along with five of my siblings, two of whom are older than me. I lived in the Zayuna area and reached the sixth preparatory class in my studies, but I was weak in English. I served in the military on secondment, and after that I was appointed to the Ministry of Industry and Minerals, working as a clerk in the Northern State Fertilizer Company until the fall of the regime in 2003. I was living a normal life and had no problems whatsoever. In 2000, we left the Zayuna area to take advantage of renting out our house, and we moved to the Dura area in the Health Quarter. I was unmarried at the time, then I got married in 2004 and have one child who is a year and a half old.

Interview

While carrying out a bombing operation, do you think about the children of martyrs who fall as a result of these acts, and do you watch the aftermath of explosions on television screens?

I don’t often watch television.

In the Zayuna area where you used to live, a mix of Sunnis and Shiites, did anyone harass you because of your sectarian affiliation?

No.

And when you moved to the al-Sahah Quarter, how was it?

I was arrested by the Americans in 2004 in connection to the events of Fallujah, where I participated, and I remained in prison for three and a half years, transferred between the prisons of Abu Ghraib, Bucca, and the Airport.

How did you get to Fallujah?

Many people were involved with the Fallujah events at that time, and I knew a person there from the Rawah area, whom I met after the fall of the regime. He suggested that I fight against the Americans. My grew closer to him, and I would visit him from time to time.

When the regime fell, where were you?

I was in the Zayuna area in Baghdad, where I live, while my family was in Anbar. The Americans subsequently entered Iraq, and I wanted to fight the Americans, an impulse that existed among many young people, even in the mosque where I used to pray.

As young people, did you talk about fighting the Americans? Was there a specific organization you were affiliated with, and where did you get weapons?

No, we had no organization. There was a shelter with many weapons left behind by the Fedayeen Saddam, which they abandoned, and the young people seized them.

What happened after you seized the weapons?

Nothing happened in the area, and I met, as I mentioned to you earlier, a person from Rawah.

Where did you meet him?

Through his relatives in Zayuna in 2003. We talked about fighting the Americans, and he told me about the existence of a fighters’ camp in Rawah called Sahl al-Amir, which had 100 [foreign] Arab fighters and a few Iraqis. The site was bombed by the Americans in the sixth month [i.e., June] of 2003, and approximately 86 people died, while a portion of them survived, including a person named Ghassan al-Rawi. “Muhammad Abu Azzam” put to me the matter of fighting the Americans, and after we met at my friend’s house in Zayuna, I expressed my interest and went to Rawah, where I met Ghassan and another [foreign] Arab named Abu Muhammad al-Lubnani.

Who is this Abu Muhammad al-Lubnani?

He is from outside the camp that was bombed. During that period, there was nothing declared, no declared organization.

Was Abu Muhammad al-Lubnani connected to an organization outside Iraq?

I found out later that he had been in Afghanistan.

What happened after you met Abu Muhammad al-Lubnani and Ghassan al-Rawi, and how many were you?

Approximately twenty people. After that, I participated in an operation against the Americans between Rawah and Anah.

How did you find out that there was something called Al Qaida in Iraq?

After my relationship with Abu Muhammad al-Lubnani strengthened, I became very close to him. He used to frequent Fallujah and meet with Abu Musab al-Zarqawi and another person named Abu Anas [al-Shami]. During that period (the end of 2003), they announced a new organization by the name of Jama’at al-Tawhid wal-Jihad.

Where were Abu Anas, Abu Musab, and Abu Muhammad?

Abu Anas al-Shami and Abu Musab were present in Fallujah, while Abu Muhammad was outside the city.

The American forces besieged Fallujah. Were Abu Anas al-Shami and Abu Musab al-Zarqawi there in the city?

The Americans could not enter the city, so the matter turned to negotiations.

Was the negotiating delegation actually conducting the negotiations, or did they contact Abu Musab and Abu Anas?

The negotiating delegation was from another party, and they had no contact with Abu Musab and Abu Anas.

Who was directing you in battle?

Each person managed an area and its fighters, and each area had a responsible person.

After the battle ended, where did you go?

I returned to Baghdad because the battle was over.

Where did your meetings take place?

Most of them in Fallujah.

Do you know how the Americans identified you?

There was a house in Fallujah where a person was arrested who confessed during interrogation to my participation with him in operations. He was being watched by the Americans via aircraft. I had gone to this house, and when I left heading for Baghdad, an American force arrested me.

Did they charge you with carrying out operations against them and participating in the Battle of Fallujah, and when did they release you?

No, they did not have information about my relationship with Abu Muhammad al-Lubnani. I was imprisoned for three and a half years and was released in November 2007. I went to my uncle’s house in al-Ghazaliya, and after that I met my family and rented a house for us in the al-Khadra quarter.

Did you have the money to rent a house?

Yes, I was employed, and my salaries were waiting for me at the department.

How did you contact Al Qaida after your release from prison, and how did these operations develop?

I contacted the organization through a person named Abu Muadh. I had kept his phone number, knowing that he was in contact with those groups there. I called him, and he connected me to the responsible persons. There was a person responsible for Baghdad called Hajji Abdul-Wahid. I met him in the Mansur District in his private car (a Corona). He had an appointment with Abu Muadh, and indeed we met and stayed in the car. I asked him to introduce me to Shaykh Abu Hamza after I came out of the detention center. He said to me, “I will write to the group.” After a few days, an appointment was set, and I met him two weeks later. I received from him a letter from Abu Hamza, whose position was Minister of War–in the terrorist organization, that is–in the year 2007, and I met him.

Do you know Abu Hamza?

Yes, I met Abu Hamza. He had two kunyas: Abu Ayyub and Abu Hamza. After that, I met a person in Samarra named “Abu al-Bashir.” Throughout the meeting, he spoke with me about the nature of the situation. I learned then that he was the coordinator for the entire country. He said to me, “Stay with Hajji Abdul-Wahid until you get to know the situation, because you have just come out of prison.” I stayed with Hajji Abdul-Wahid until mid-2008. Then Abu Hamza appointed me as deputy to Hajji via mail. They had fixed appointments every week to deliver and receive mail, and that appointment was on Saturday.

I did not participate, until I was appointed in place of Abdul-Wahid, as he was an elderly man who had encountered problems in Baghdad with members of the organization, such as Abu As’ad. Then I became “Emir of Baghdad” or “Wali of Baghdad.”

How was the city of Baghdad divided, and what is the identity of the fighters in your organization?

Baghdad was divided into three sections. The first was overseen by Abu As’ad, who was killed by the Americans in the al-Adhamiya district. The second section was South Karkh, which included the Dura, Saydiya, Bayya, and Airport districts, as well as all areas to the left of the airport. This was under the responsibility of a man called Abu Yassin, who is currently detained. As for the areas to the right of the airport–Amiriyah, University Quarter, Yarmouk, Mansur–they are called North Karkh, and the person responsible for them is Abu Ibrahim.

How do you manage the work?

I held meetings. I would set the appointment with the members of the group. During that period, there was no military commander in Baghdad. Then Hatim al-Askari came to me from Anbar in 2008, and we began carrying out operations.

From where are suicide bombers brought to Baghdad?

From Mosul. There was a man named Abu Ja’far who transported the suicide bombers.

How did you target the churches?

Using improvised explosive devices. We targeted six churches in one day. The plan was for every two persons to target three churches, with North Karkh and South Karkh targeting two churches each.

What are the mechanisms for carrying out operations?

We targeted the Husayniyas in New Baghdad and al-Zafaraniya, and after that, we struck the ministries. The first were the Ministries of Foreign Affairs and Finance. The operation was planned to be carried out using four cars, but two of them were seized, so it was executed with two cars. The plan was to target the Ministries of Finance, Foreign Affairs, Justice, and the Baghdad Governorate all on the same day. However, for the stated reason, the bombings of the Ministry of Justice, the Governorate building, courthouse building in al-Zawra, and the Judicial Institute were postponed. One of the cars was heading to the media network headquarters, but it was discovered by personnel at a checkpoint. After that, hotels were targeted before I was arrested after the elections.

How are targets determined?

The orders come from Abu Hamza to target specific objectives. It is not my duty to determine those targets, nor is it Baghdadi’s. My role lies in execution. If I am unable to do so, I write to them informing them of my inability to execute. Regarding the operation to bomb embassies, I knew about it, and they asked me to carry out two operations against the Jordanian and Chinese embassies, but I could not execute them, and I informed them of that.

What is the reason for choosing certain embassies over others?

This relates to specific matters based on a particular vision. For example, targeting the Jordanian embassy is based on the apparent hostility and Jordan’s positions against Al Qaida.

Why were those operations not stopped after your arrest?

Because the execution and supervision of operations are not solely entrusted to me, so when I was arrested, those operations continued against the planned targets. There is a person named Hatim who has managed them after me.

Where and how are the suicide bombers equipped with car bombs and explosive belts?

In Baghdad, there are houses rented for this purpose–no more than three or five–where cars bought from markets or dealerships are rigged with explosives, and suicide belts are prepared. These houses were located in the Mansur, Husayn, Jihad, University, and Khadra Districts, but they have now been exposed by security forces. Whenever their use is discovered, we abandon them and rent others.

What are the material costs of carrying out a terrorist operation? Take, for example, the operation on the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. How was the car purchased and rigged?

The Ministry of Foreign Affairs operation alone cost $35,000, and I funded it. The barrels placed in the car were purchased from the market, and the explosives used in the operation came from Mosul. Even the suicide bombers–most of them [foreign[ Arabs–came from Syria via Mosul, especially given the difficulty of entering and infiltrating through the Anbar border. Generally, for any operation I'm assigned to carry out, I study it, determine its costs, and send a request for the necessary funds. The money then arrives via regular mail in dollars. The Ministry of Foreign Affairs and Finance operation together cost a total of $150,000.

What type of explosive materials enter from Syria?

There is no ready-made explosive material prepared for detonation that comes from Syria. Rather, agricultural urea is sent from Syria, and then we mix it with other explosive materials to make it ready with a very high explosive power.

How many assassination and slaughter operations did you personally carry out?

I didn't carry out any beheadings or assassinations, as those were the responsibility of the organization's sub-branches.

What are the reasons for bombing churches, mosques, and Husayniyas [Shiite temples]?

The reason for bombing churches is the ban on Muslims from building minarets in Western Christian countries. Just as they prevented mosques, we prevent them from practicing their rituals and ceremonies. The target here is not Iraqi Christians as individuals, but rather the religion, its rituals, and its buildings. As for targeting Husayniyas, it is because they are Shiite. The reason for targeting Harith al-Ubaydi is that he declared his hostility to Al Qaida on more than one occasion.

Who are the members of the Al Qaida organization? And how are the salaries of its members secured?

The members are from multiple categories, all of them unemployed. If I have money available, I distribute salaries to them based on the number of their family members. For example, I would give an amount of $200 to someone with a family of five children.

Did you have connections with people working in the security agencies or state departments?

There were no such connection during the period I was working.

How is a suicide bomber who enters the country prepared and delivered to the sites to be bombed?

Hatim is the person responsible for preparing this individual, bringing him from Mosul to Baghdad or any other area. He is responsible for surveying the location and gathering sufficient information about it, along with the suicide bomber, to form a complete picture of what he will do. He also forges an identification card for him to facilitate his movement between regions and cities.

Are there any distinctive, high-profile operations that you carried out?

Yes, the Airport operation. I planned it for a month and executed it completely. I stopped two American vehicles and killed those inside them, numbering seven people. I was supposed to capture them, but they were killed during the operation.

Did you kill journalists?

We did not do that during the period I was working.

Did you plan to carry out operations in the near future?

Yes, it was planned. Over the next six months, among the orders we planned to carry out was the targeting of two predominantly Shiite areas in response to the statements made against Caliph Abu Bakr al-Siddiq, as well as an operation against the preacher of the Kadhimiya shrine. However, my arrest halted these operations.

Do you think that your arrest and the killing of Abu Ayyub al-Masri and Abu Umar al-Baghdadi negatively affected the organization’s activity?

Yes, for they had a significant impact on the organization.

Do you think the organization will continue to operate inside Iraq, and do you see the Iraqi people accepting your actions?

The fact that no one accepts our actions is irrelevant to whether we continue our work or live inside Iraq. There are no Iraqi tribes or regions that want our presence among them or want to support us. It is true that this was the case in the past, but now it is not the case for several reasons.

Which leaders of Al Qaida did you meet?

I met Abu Musab al-Zarqawi once in 2004. The occasion was the events in Fallujah and how they were being managed. I also met Abu Muhammad al-Lubnani, Abu Anas al-Shami, and Umar Hadid. All of them were killed. As for Baghdadi, I never met him.

Are there connections of the organization outside Iraq?

I don’t know.

Did you consider the consequences of the terrorist operations and decide to stop out of regret, conscience, or the injustice done to innocent people?

I don’t think my regret would be of any use now

Below is every part of Adnan Absi’s memoirs of the Iraqi Insurgency, beginning with his entry into Iraq under Ba’athist auspices to his final exit during the 2005 Battle of Al Qaim. We learn a great deal about the circumstances of the Fall of Baghdad, the jihadist logistics networks operating between Iraq and Syria, and the influence of native jihadism among Sunni Iraqis. Adnan originally wrote the memoirs across twenty-eight entries (plus one temporary poll in the middle of the series) on social media. I have grouped the entries into sets of four to five for each part below. The sub-headings for the parts are my own, meant only to summarize the content.

– Rob

NOTE – 26 June, 2026: In the formatted book of his memoirs–which was released after this post–Adnan Absi included a brief introduction to his story. This introduction has now been included below.

Adnan’s Introduction

Images of the American aircraft carrier dominated global media, while George W. Bush brazenly and arrogantly announced his campaign against Muslims, uttering words our own rulers would have been too ashamed to speak: “This is a Crusade.”

It was a provocation to every person of zeal within this vast ummah of over a billion believers. I was among those whose hearts was set ablaze as they watched tyranny poised to shatter the dignity of this land–the Land of Two Rivers, the seat of the Islamic Caliphate and the cradle of human civilization–in the very heart of Arabs and Muslims alike.

Time hastened, and with it hastened my steps towards Baghdad. Accompanied by tens of thousands of volunteers, the spirit of resistance was struggling against the hands of the Rafidhi treason and the agents of the Crusader enemy. There was Saddam Husayn and his Fidayin. Everything was in turmoil and the end was drawing near–a scene from an old chapter repeating itself across time: the Rafidhi Ibn al-‘Alqami and the Abbasid Caliph, with a million souls perishing in the Land of Two Rivers.1 And today I see charred corpses in the streets of Baghdad as if the million is becoming a new reality.

This is my story, born of the new Crusade fought across the streets of Baghdad, Fallujah, and Al Qaim. In it, I recount the occupation of Baghdad, the liberation of Fallujah, and the emergence of the nucleus of the Islamic Caliphate. History holds a lesson for those who heed it, and by it, the wayfarer finds guidance.

– Adnan Absi

Table of Contents

1. Part 1: Betrayal of the Foreign Volunteers

2. Part 2: Baghdad’s Collapse and Jihadist Smuggling Routes

3. Part 3: Early Jihadist Presence in Fallujah

4. Part 4: First Battle of Fallujah and Its Aftermath

5. Part 5: Vignettes from Fallujah and Another Escape to Syria

6. Part 6: Battle of Al Qaim and a final goodbye to Iraq

Coalition map of Al Qaim area in western Anbar

In the final part of Adnan Absi’s Iraq memoirs, we learn a great deal about Al Qaida in Iraq’s (AQI) presence and workings in Al Qaim in 2005 after the Second Battle of Fallujah. Absi missed this Battle because he was medically recovering in Syria, but he reveals that even if he was able to go, AQI had suspended entry for all foreign fighters. Only suicide bombers were permitted. Even for some time after th Second Battle of Fallujah, AQI refused to accept any new foreign recruits, which complicated Absi’s re-entry. Here, we learn about how AQI’s relations with affiliate groups functioned. Adnan used his previous ties to a tribal group, which was affiliated to AQI, to again enter Iraq and resume fighting. This group was initially nationalist inclined in ideology–particularly to the 1920 Revolution Brigades–but came under jihadist influence and aligned itself with Zarqawi.

This is best shown by their operations against Yezidis and Coalition forces, in which Adnan took part. In one of these raids, a few Iraqi fighters were killed. In coordination with their respective tribes and families, AQI then held funeral processions in Al Qaim, reflecting the large extent to which they had integrated into the city and area. Interestingly, Absi reports that the AQI emir for Al Qaim was initially an Algerian foreign fighter, who seemed well-respected by locals. In a case where an AQI fighter mistakenly killed a local, the Algerian emir was able to negotiate a simple blood money payment. His successor, an Iraqi jihadist, is said to have been much more abusive, which toxified AQI’s relations with Al Qaim tribes. This flips the usual narrative that AQI’s foreign fighters were its most resented. This would highlight the extent to which AQI became a vehicle for local Iraqi jihadists. Indeed, this Iraqi emir even jeopardized the loyalty pledge, or bay’ah, from the tribal group that hosted Adnan to AQI. This was likely during the bloodletting of Summer 2005, when AQI suppressed the Albu Mahal rebellion.

During this period, the Coalition turned its sights onto the Al Qaim, and AQI’s integration into the city caused significant problems. Adnan reports that Coalition forces ordered Al Qaim residents to expel the foreign fighters or face a similar fate as Fallujah. Adnan approached others and suggested that they leave for Syria to spare the local population. Some agreed, while AQI as an organization did not. They stayed and fought, with great consequences for the city and eventual defeat for AQI. Adnan and his fellow cohort of foreigners fled to Aleppo (again highlighting the ease of jihadist travel between Iraq and Syria). This was the final time Adnan ever set foot in Iraq.

Entry #26

25 January, 2026

The Second Fallujah
Fighting the Devil-Worshippers

While I was in Syria [al-Sham] receiving treatment, the Second Battle of Fallujah took place, but I didn’t witness it. The battle intensified, the borders were closed, and security was tightened. Entering Iraq was no longer easy and became costly for the brothers in terms of both effort and money. Only suicide bombers were allowed to cross. During that period, we were forced to stay in Syria, so I couldn’t return to Iraq until three months later, after the battle had ended and the borders had reopened.

After the end of the Second Battle of Fallujah, the organization [al-tanzim, euphemistically referring to Al Qaida in Iraq – Rob] stopped accepting new recruits for a while. I wanted to enter Iraq, so I contacted some brothers from another group and told them of my desire to return to Iraq through them. I asked my emir in Syria for permission to join this group, knowing that the loyalty pledge [bay’ah] to the organization was a minor pledge, meaning a pledge to fight. According to what I learned from the shaykhs, it is permissible to transfer from one fighting group to another when there is coordination between the two groups. So I did that after my emir approved my joining the tribal group in Al Qaim. After that, I made the necessary arrangements and entered Iraq.

My relationship with this group began when I entered Iraq after the occupation, my first entry into Iraq as a mujahid under the banner of monotheism. My relationship with them remained good, and they helped me rejoin the ranks. My arrival in the city of Al Qaim coincided with the brothers planning an attack on border fortifications belonging to the Crusader enemy and their Yezidi (devil-worshipper) agents. This tribal group had only two muhajirin from the Peninsula of Muhammad (peace be upon him), so I was the third muhajir. The operation was prepared within a few days.

About two days before our move, one of the leaders in Al Qaida (who knew me previously) sent me a message disapproving my membership in this group. He said that they were fighting for nationalism through their alliance with the “Twentieth Brigades” [that is, the 1920 Revolution Brigades – Rob] and that their emir didn’t fight the police because he didn’t see them as infidels. In one of his battles with the border police, this emir found a soldier praying during their attack on the border post, so he let him go because he was afraid of killing someone at prayer. Thus, news spread that this tribal group was ideologically confused.

I took his words seriously and went to inquire about what I had been told. I learned that this group had indeed been like that, but they abandoned their alliance with the nationalist brigades and were now on their own, following Zarqawi’s directives and wishing they could pledge loyalty to him. Their emir told me that the attack we were about to launch targeted only apostates–that is, worshippers of Satan. Then, before we entered battle, the group published a statement clarifying their position on nationalism and patriotism, declaring unequivocally that they were on the true creed.

That afternoon, the messenger brought the news that everything was ready. The enemy numbered no more than twenty men, and the plan was carefully devised. We set out at midnight. Before the end of the road, the convoy of five cars fully equipped with weapons stopped. The emir addressed us, reminding us of God, and His victory and sincerity, and we should not be deceived by our numbers, which exceeded theirs, for we were twenty-nine fully armed men. After his stirring words, we were left to rest for a while before the dawn attack.

We prayed Fajr and then set off. Our camp was near the border post. The enemy position was only five kilometers from the Syrian border, overlooking a large hill. As soon as we saw the enemy stronghold, bullets and shells rained down on us. But the emir continued on his way, and the car stopped at the wall of the post. Three of our best men ran with him, storming the barbed wire fence. We took cover, and a battle ensued between us and them, lasting roughly three hours. I was boiling with rage at what they were shouting: “Go back! Reinforcements are coming! The Americans are on their way!” The battle raged fiercely until we heard the sound of a warplane, and then they started shelling us.

Entry #27

29 January, 2026

The Scent of Perfume
Changing Concepts

When the battle began, fog covered everything, and the sun had not yet risen. The fighting intensified. Two hours passed, then the sound of gunfire from inside the headquarters suddenly fell silent. Then we heard their voices shouting “Allahu Akbar!” For a moment, I thought they were our brothers who had stormed the building, but I looked to my right and saw smoke rising into the sky. Then, shots began coming from the direction of that smoke. They continued shouting, “The Americans are coming! Here’s the reinforcements! Run! Run!” That’s what they kept telling us.

Our military vehicles were on the hilltop, and the brothers inside were shouting at us, “Withdraw! Withdraw!” But we could not hear anything, so we did not respond or heed them. They thought we had been killed, so the vehicles withdrew, while we, unaware, looked at one another, wondering who would take command. Then suddenly, one of us decided to be the emir. He shouted, “Withdraw! Orders are to withdraw!” So we withdrew to the hilltop. The fog was thick, so no one could see us. The gunfire was random. We were nineteen men, among us one wounded in the foot. When we arrived, we couldn’t find the vehicles, so we took our weapons and tried to bury the DShK heavy machine gun. Then we headed towards the Syrian border, which was only five kilometers away, and which couldn’t be crossed by the Americans.

There are checkpoints between the Syrian and Iraqi borders guarded by Syrian army special forces. It was easier for us to go towards them because going back the other way would have meant a confrontation between nineteen men with medium and light weapons and reinforcements equipped with all kinds of weapons.

The shelling continued in our direction, and mortar rounds were falling by the roadside until we crossed the border, when everything stopped. We started walking towards the city of Albukamal, which was more than one hundred kilometers away. We contacted our brothers and told them what had happened, and we agreed on a specific meeting point. They came to it, traveling from sixty kilometers away.

When we crossed the Syrian border, after about ten kilometers, a Syrian army patrol stopped us. They said to us, “You’re the ones who were in the battle!” The sounds had reached them, and they had seen the American aircraft flying close to the border. One of them said, “We stand with you, but don’t bring any foreigners here. Do you have any foreigners with you?” The brothers had warned me not to speak, because no matter what my accent was, it wasn’t one that could hold up in a long conversation. Then the Syrian army would know for sure that I wasn’t Iraqi. They told me not to talk too much, because the more I talked, the more it would reveal my identity. The soldier looked at me closely and then asked, “Do you have any foreigners with you?” We told him, “No, we’re all Iraqis.” Then I said, “Yes, we’re all Iraqis.” He said, “Fine, go.”

We went to the meeting point with the brothers. They took us, and we were exhausted. We left, carrying our grief from the loss of those four martyrs and the loss of prisoners. During the withdrawal, one of the lion-like youths [al-shibl, meaning “lion cub,” a popular term in jihadist vernacular – Rob] decided to go back in a final attempt not to leave his brother behind–who was killed as a martyr, as we believe–and this youth was captured. Later, Iraqi television presented him as one of the criminals arrested at the border after the Iraqi police targeted bandits. They forced him to say that we were highwaymen preying on the Iraqi people and that there were foreigners among us. They made up a story to glorify their police!

When we arrived in the city of Al Qaim, the tribal shaykh was there to greet us. A great many of the city’s notables gathered and declared they would not abandon the bodies of the four brothers, for they were all sons of the city, all from the ansar [native Iraqis]. They sent requests through the tribe to the tribes of Nineveh, where the brothers had been taken along with the American army. Several days later, news arrived of what had happened, and word of our attack spread. We learned that the losses of those devils were fifty dead. The one who informed them of our approach was a Bedouin spy working for them in the desert along the road. He sent them a satellite phone message about camouflaged cars moving towards them, carrying masked men.

Thirteen days later, the bearer of good news [al-Bashir] arrived with the bodies of the four brothers. The handover took place after the tribe threatened the government and the Americans that they would block the highway and declare open war if their sons were not handed over for burial in their city. The father of one of these martyred young men did not believe that this path led to Paradise and huris, and he refused to let his son go out for jihad, keeping a close watch on him. However, the brother would occasionally slip away from his father, who was one of the city’s wealthiest men and had ten children. His father was devastated by his son’s death until the day his body arrived at the outskirts of the neighborhood, with people walking behind the funeral procession–when suddenly a scent emanated from it, indescribable, except that its perfume-like fragrance extended for nearly 500 meters.

So his father then led a magnificent procession through the Husaybah area of ​​Al Qaim. The corpses were gathered from their families’ homes with processions from everywhere. Voices from the minarets rose with takbirs and weeping, alongside Quranic recitation. They reached the city’s cemetery at the foot of a small mountain. I was on the mountain with the tribal shaykh and the rest of the muhajirin, awaiting the processions’ arrival. By Him besides Whom there is no other god, I smelled that perfume while I was above the cemetery, and they were at the bottom of the mountain. I heard the takbir rising, and the people drew near to me with the corpses until I almost fainted from the anguish of not sharing with them the honor that I witnessed. The tribal shaykh had ordered that those who had participated in the battle should be the first to open the coffins in which they (the martyrs) had been brought.

My share was a young man of twenty years, with his eyes open as if he were looking at me. I placed my hand over his eyes and closed them. I touched his body, and it was fresh, as if he had just come out of a bath, with the scent of perfume emanating from him, while the people cried out takbir so that nothing was heard except “Allahu Akbar.” My voice rose in tears as I tried to embrace him, saying, “If only I had died with you!” His older brother pulled me away and said, “Who will tell Ubaykan–that enemy of God–of what we see? He claims that there is no jihad!”1 And he began to curse the evil scholars.

Entry #28

4 February, 2026

Lion of the DShK
The Scholar or the Mujahid

The father of the martyr–we believe him to be so–Abu Abdul-Rahman al-Ansari invited us to a special feast for ourselves. He requested attendance from everyone who participated in the battle in which his son was killed. He was a man from the nobles of his tribe, possessing wealth and standing among the people. When we arrived, he and his sons warmly welcomed us. This event had far-reaching consequences, as it led young men to begin flocking to join the jihadist groups in the city. It also allowed us to move among the people, visiting this one, checking in on that one, and offering condolences to another. In all of these meetings, we would conclude by inviting them to join the jihad for the sake of God and to follow in the footsteps of those marching ahead.

The brothers in one of the groups decided to launch an assault on the Crusader base situated at the Al Qaim customs post, a facility that was fully fortified. It was protected to the west by the customs post of the Syrian city of Albukamal, to the south by a flat, open area, to the north by the Euphrates River running between it and the border mountains, and to the east by the highway that cuts through the city and ends inside the customs area where the barbarians were stationed. Along the sides of the road are houses and residential neighborhoods, where people lived in constant anxiety. None dared to pass on the highway after sunset, nor even to go within sight of the base’s guards, for doing so meant certain death.

We did not know about this operation, as our group had only ever bombarded the base with Grad or Katyusha rockets, but never stormed those fortifications. Then we received news that the residents of the area surrounding the base had thwarted an attack by the organization due to their fear of the consequences. A man would come out of his house if he saw the brothers and throw stones at them without being seen, just to make them leave his home. The mission seemed nearly impossible, given this fear on the part of those around the area. But the next day, the most wonderful news arrived as the whole city heard the sound of explosions. Three cars, one after another, smashed everything in the heart of the base. Their own vehicles had been turned back against them, filled with explosives. Inside were heroes who knew no fear except of God–we believe them to be so and God is their Judge.

How did they manage to deceive those barbarians until they made them taste the torment of hellfire? The entry of the cars was accompanied by diversionary maneuvers on the sides of the base and the guard towers. Despite all the difficulties, the result was that the foundations of the occupier were shaken: 200 dead.

Helicopters moved from east of the base to the site of the attack to rescue the wounded. With extreme caution, they circled over the city with along the edges of the mountain range to avoid the devastating SAM-7 missile. Little did they know that a lion was lurking somewhere above with his DShK machine gun, waiting for his prey. The helicopters came and went several times, carrying their wounds and pain. Then, at the moment God permitted, he unleashed his fire, shattering their idol atop the mountain.

They went stark, raving mad. The DShK machine gun was a rare commodity at that time. The brothers didn’t possess it because it was very difficult to move around due to the many aircraft and the presence of spies on the ground. The usual method for kidnapping and assassinating wanted individuals was insertion by Apache helicopters. A reconnaissance plane began circling the city all day, searching for the vehicle carrying the DShK. We all knew this. While we were basking in the euphoria of these victories–which were shared by all the groups, as there was nothing between them but camaraderie, cooperation, and mutual support–around midnight, during my rest period after a guard duty, I heard the takbir and the brother on guard duty shouting loudly, “Insertion! Insertion!”

Everyone was jumping out of the headquarters, weapons in hand. Bullets filled the city’s sky from every direction. I saw it, no more than twenty meters away, as the black Apache helicopter took off before landing in the pitch black of night. It rose, carrying its soldiers, none of whom disembarked. It had a terrifying sound, like a muffled roar, causing children to scream in their homes. Twelve military helicopters were landing simultaneously in different parts of the city–a retaliatory attack.

None of the helicopters succeeded in landing except for one near the DShK machine gun. Everyone was ready, and hails of bullets forced them to take off before reaching the ground. It was a terrifying air-to-ground battle, complete with the sounds they had played from inside the Apaches to frighten people. The ground fighting was confined to the area near the DShK machine gun, close to the tribal shaykh’s house. While some of my brothers and I moved between the houses, taking cover during the fighting, a homeowner came out and begged us not to fire near his house because his children were screaming in terror. I reassured him, and we stopped. Then he did something remarkable that I will never forget: He went into his house and brought three cups of tea, one for each of us, and said, “Warm yourselves.” The sound of gunfire had by then subsided.

Suddenly, an F-16 launched a missile that landed on a house with only seven women inside. No shots had come from it, as the women had gathered together in it out of fear. Everything fell silent for a while after the missile strike... I learned it was intended to protect the Apache helicopters that had landed to evacuate the soldiers who had landed earlier, along with their wounded and dead. All the helicopters had left, and that was the end of it. They hadn’t even captured the DShK machine gun. Our martyrs that night were only four brothers and seven women from the ansar.

I sat before dawn remembering the words of that shaykh who had once been my friend, when I told him about going to Iraq. He said to me, “You are incapable of a sharia education [‘ilm al-shari’i], so you’ve gone down the easy path”–meaning that jihad was easier than studying sharia. When he said those words to me, I wanted to reply to him, for his words offended me, but out of politeness I restrained myself. I remembered him at that moment and said to myself, “By God, all his lifelong effort in seeking knowledge, spent in ease and comfort, does not equal the fear of this night and its intensity–so how could this be the easy path?!”

Entry #29

16 February, 2026

The Case of the Common Folk
The End of the Journey

The emir of the organization in Al Qaim was Algerian, and I witnessed a meeting he held with tribal leaders regarding the blood money for a man killed by one of the organization’s soldiers on suspicion of espionage. He told the victim’s family, “Blood money or retribution [al-qisas]–the choice is yours. The soldier was mistaken and exercised his own judgment, but we hope you will accept the blood money and forgo retribution.” The people agreed.

After this emir came a young Iraqi man from the ansar, who assumed leadership of the organization in Al Qaim. However, he was harsh on the ansar and spoiled the loyalty pledge of one of the tribes to Shaykh Zarqawi (may God have mercy on him). He frequently criticized me for remaining with these tribal forces and leaving the organization, even though I had explained to him that our bay’ah was not to a supreme imamate [that is, a Caliphate – Rob] but rather one of support and fight, so my transfer was permissible. This was especially so since they (the tribal group) had issued a statement disavowing pre-Islamic nationalism. They were the ones who brought me into Iraq, so supporting them was especially dear to me.

When we returned from our last battle against the Yezidis, and the tribe gained fame [or infamy, depending on one’s perspective – Rob], the tribal shaykh wanted to pledge loyalty to Zarqawi and join his forces to the organization (Al Qaida). However, the organization’s emir in Al Qaim demanded things that no one would agree to except those in dire need of help, not people like these. So they said, “We will not pledge loyalty except in the presence of the Shaykh himself.” And so the matter stalled. This was the scene when the Americans decided to enter the Iraqi city of Al Qaim. They sent their usual intermediary messenger, asking the tribal shaykhs to expel the muhajirin from the city before their assault, or else it would be burned like Fallujah.

This matter weighed heavily on the common folk, causing confusion and fear among some for their families. Asaib al-Iraq held a show of force, as they were the most heavily armed and numerous faction in the city. The muhajirin were engaged in behind-the-scenes discussions to determine the right course of action. I went to speak with the military emir of Asaib al-Iraq and said to him something I had heard since my departure from Fallujah, spoken by one of the Ansar due to certain events–words I have never forgotten: “Some of the general public dislike the muhajirin because they came here to die, whereas the ansar can fight with endurance. They go to work in the morning and return, taking up their weapons at night without anyone noticing. They wear down their enemy without rushing to achieve results, as they are at home with their families. But the muhajir has come seeking martyrdom, so he cannot tolerate patience or delays, and he might not even be able to bear a withdrawal one day.”

I mentioned this hadith to him and said, based on my experience, “I think we should leave for Syria and let you manage your affairs, reorganizing your ranks and returning to guerrilla warfare. For they (the Americans) might do to you as they did to Fallujah, using napalm bombs without any condemnation from the entire world, and the common people would come to hate us, perhaps some would even become infidels. So it would be better to negotiate without pressure, as we could temporarily relocate to other places.” He told me, “I was embarrassed to tell you this. It would be best if we all left–even we who are wanted–and let the tribal shaykhs enter into a truce without fighting. Then we could begin a new phase in the war of attrition.”

Not everyone agreed on one opinion; there were many factions, and in some of them, the muhajirin were the majority. Arrangements were made for me and some of the other muhajirin to leave for Aleppo, as the other option was Baghdad, which I couldn’t bear to even mention after being forced to escape it from betrayal, unable to distinguish Sunni from Rafidhi. Some decided to go to the desert, while others refused to leave.

When I crossed the border at night, news reached me of the people behind me. The shaykhs and notables of the city had gone to the emirs and told them, “Expel the migrants, or we will expel them ourselves. People will die, women will be raped, and so on because of these people.” This was what I had feared. I continued my journey to Aleppo. Some brothers called me to say they were on the road behind me. And God decreed what He willed, and He did what He wished.

A week passed, and after the organization and some factions refused to expel the muhajirin, the Battle of Al Qaim ensued. I couldn’t identify any of the brothers in the city–most of them had ascended to God as martyrs. The Crusader forces entered Al Qaim, beginning a new phase in the war of attrition. I wished that I had been with those who had gone to their Lord–this, when I lived on after them and saw the turning of the times and the weakening of faith. Perhaps we were right, or perhaps we were wrong, but our love for God and His Messenger (peace and blessings be upon him) continues to drive the march forward. And so I bid farewell to the land of Iraq, never to return from that moment on, as my weak heart filled with love for the ansar. For they are the people of war and peace, generosity and chivalry. As for what the common people did, one could find this anywhere on the earth [Lit. “no place on earth is free from it”].

If I were to speak about it again, it would be about stances and lessons from which we can learn why, in my humble opinion, the Awakenings [Sahawat] arose; and why the groups succeeded in forming the State [Dawla]; and the impact of jihadist media in the long war; and finally, why haven’t we achieved what we seek!

Foreign fighters from JTJ in a safehouse in Fallujah

The next five entries of Adnan Absi’s narrative provide a “slice of life” look into insurgent-controlled Fallujah. Several details stand out in the vignettes. Several Saudi foreign fighters surrendered to the Saudi government due to a mass amnesty for repentant jihadists. Amnesties had been a key tactic in the Saudi government’s campaign against the AQBH insurgency, as had been the “export” of Saudi jihadists to Iraq. It seems that Saudi authorities were worried by any potential knowledge transfer to Iraq from Arabian jihadists and wanted to limit the pool of talent where possible.

Among the more interesting details is Absi’s account of Umar Hadid’s hostility to Ba’athists in Fallujah. He reports that Ba’athists wanted to organize a rally against the occupation, which Hadid sought to subdue by organizing a jihadist counter-rally that denounced by Ba’athism and the occupation. Hadid successfully deterred the Ba’athists, who kept indoors. On the one hand, this shows the lingering appeal of Ba’athism in Fallujah, but on the other hand, it shows how quickly the ideology was being supplanted by jihadism.

Absi also reports that the spat of abductions and executions of foreigners in Iraq during the summer of 2004 was a concerted jihadist campaign to weaken the Coalition and expel various powers from Iraq. This supposedly led to the withdrawal of Japan, South Korea, and a Latin American country–though there were no withdrawals from Iraq in 2004. This coincided with weapons development within Fallujah, which Absi claims even led to the construction of a poison gas bomb. Absi himself joined an explosives training course, led by a Levantine (likely Syrian) jihadist, called Abu Ja’far al-Shami. The explosive material for IEDs and other bombs was partially obtained from unexploded ordinance dropped on Fallujah and partially from within Coalition camps. In the latter case, a native Iraqi jihadist entered the camps as contractor and secretly collected material.

At some point during Adnan’s life in Fallujah, he is accidentally shot by a misfire from his comrade. This forces him to leave Fallujah for treatment in Syria. He reports that he left Fallujah for Al Qaim on a government train, which he was able to board due to “connections” from an Iraqi jihadist. At Al Qaim, Adnan and others were received by local operatives, who then facilitated their entry into Syria and passage to Aleppo on smuggling routes. In a sidebar, Adnan claims that a Saudi foreign fighter, Abu al-Bara al-Makki, killed a “Korean general” in an operation in Al Qaim. It’s unclear to what exactly he is referring, as the only Korean death in Iraq that year was the execution of Kim Sun-Il in Fallujah. This section seems to include significant combat embellishments. Either way, in Aleppo, Adnan received medical treatment for several months. Upon hearing the news of the Second Battle of Fallujah, Absi and the others attempt to go but are ordered by Zarqawi to stay in Syria until their return after the Battle. His escape from Iraq, his sojourn in Syria, and eventual return are further evidence of a sophisticated jihadist logistics network operating in the two countries.

Entry #21

12 January, 2026

Steadfastness or the Abyss
Models for Reflection

Several days before the final battle, there was a meeting of some group leaders at a secure site. The location was surrounded by some brothers acting as guards, but there seemed to be nothing going on. The leaders began arriving, each with one guard. Suddenly, we heard the booming sound of an explosion, and everyone rushed to locate it. We had known nothing of the meeting. We arrived like everyone else and found that a missile had fallen on the guard’s room in that location, killing the guard and his son, may God have mercy on them.

The leaders were unharmed, as they were in another room. The place consisted of several rooms within a large enclosure. Abu Walid al-Jazrawi was the guard of our emir, and when he returned to our location, we felt that he was rattled and was incessantly rambling about the missile. He said, “O brothers, pray for me to remain steadfast. I saw the missile falling on the room. It was terrifying. It fell, and I knew that the man and his son were inside the room. I wasn’t hurt, but I can’t forget that sight, brothers. Pray for me to remain steadfast, for I’m afraid for myself.”

I was amazed by him on the day of the battle. We were in the military district, exchanging fire with the enemy. Between the streets, one of us would go out to fire an RPG or a PK machine gun and then retreat in a swift movement known to every fighter. Between the streets, if your head came up, it might not come back down because of the barbarian snipers, who were firing at us from 3km away without us seeing them. Suddenly, I saw a brother running quickly ahead of us in the street, within range of the snipers, carrying a PK machine gun and shouting, “Brothers! Brothers! I need a PK machine gun belt!” He passed us by heading to the supply point. Who was this lion, standing at the head of the road in a building, with nothing but the highway shielding him from the tanks? I was amazed by his demeanor, utterly composed. Abu Walid, is this you, the one who often said, “Pray for me to be steadfast, for I’m afraid for myself…”? Perhaps God answered his prayer…

As the fighting intensified, a tank shell hit the building where I and three other brothers were taking cover. It struck the top floor, and the place shook. We were in a good position near the wall, but the muhajir brother next to me fainted. I tried to reassure him that if they shelled the building again, it was just random shelling, as that’s what they do. He wouldn’t calm down. I later learned that he had arrived only a few days earlier and it was the first time in his life he had heard such sounds. He hadn’t expected to be in a battle so quickly. A few days later, he disappeared from our headquarters, and when I asked about him, they said, “He went off on some business.”

After the battle, we were celebrating our victory in one of the houses. Inside, there was a vehicle full of ammunition and weapons, hidden under a concrete canopy so it wouldn’t be seen by warplanes. I and some others were on the upper floor, while the rest were on the downstairs. Suddenly, we heard the loud boom of an explosion and the glass shattered. The brothers jumped, some from the upper floor to the ground, some took cover, and some climbed onto the neighbors’ walls. We thought it was an airstrike, as their promises were as reliable as a spider’s web. But to our surprise, it was an explosion inside the house. One of the leaders, while talking to another, accidentally pressed the RPG launcher button while it was aimed at the concrete roof above the military vehicle, and so what happened, happened. The worst of the injuries were to the leader and those near him.

After treating the wounded, Shaykh Abu Yassir scolded that leader, and they began an angry argument. I had never seen this before from our emir, as he was usually a calm and easygoing man, but when it came to decisive moments, he was almost unrecognizable. That leader also disappeared a few days after this incident, and I heard he had gone on a mission. However, about two months later, when I went to Syria [al-Sham] for treatment of a wound, the brothers at the muhajirin headquarters informed me that the young man from the Peninsula [al-Jazrawi, meaning from the Jazira (Peninsula) – Rob] and the leader–both of whom had gone missing–had surrendered to the Saudi government after a royal amnesty was issued for every Saudi who laid down their arms and returned to the embrace of the homeland. And as they say: O God, grant us peace, peace!

Entry #22

14 January, 2026

This post was a survey and was deleted after its expiration. Continue directly from Entry #23. Apologies for the confusion. – Adnan Absi

Entry #23

15 January, 2026

Umar Hadid
South Korea’s Withdrawal

When Shaykh Umar Hadid heard that members of the Ba’ath Party had decided to hold demonstrations against the occupation, he agreed with Shaykh Abdullah al-Janabi to rally a large number of brothers and to go out in a show of force by the mujahidin in the city, so that the Ba’ath Party would know it had no place among us. The group set out after the afternoon prayer on a hot day, but our enthusiasm and pride made us forget our fatigue. None of us wanted the people and the media to attribute the resistance movements and the jihad in the city to a secular nationalist party, lest our efforts be wasted and the fruits of our labor be used for something other than the Law of God.

We paraded through the city in a magnificent procession, and none of the [Ba’ath] party members dared to come out. It was the first time I had marched under the command of Shaykh Umar.

One of the brothers and I entered the headquarters of an Iraqi group of ansar. They were coordinating with our group–exchanging information, training, and everything else–and our task that day was to obtain some equipment from them. They had a daring man in his forties who would go to the camps of the occupying enemy in his pickup truck, posing as a debris removal worker. Inside the camps, he would collect unexploded shells and anything else of value. What he obtained was a secret known only to a few of us. Later, I learned that many of the camps bombed by the occupying forces still contained explosive devices and rockets that could be used in car bombs and IEDs.

While I was with this group, an elderly man entered. He greeted us, then sat down. He began speaking to us, and among his remarks was, “Umar Hadid doesn’t love the Messenger of God (peace and blessings be upon him).” I was shocked by his words and couldn’t compose myself, so I shot back, “How can you say that, Shaykh?! The man is a mujahid with a long and distinguished history!” He angrily replied, “Umar Hadid forcibly forbids prayers upon the Messenger of God (peace and blessings be upon him).” After a discussion–which I tried to keep calm, but to no avail–I finally understood from him that they say certain words after the call to prayer and invoke blessings upon the Prophet (peace and blessings be upon him). When Umar Hadid forbade them, saying it was an innovation, this elderly man began making this claim. By the grace of God, this man was won over my explanation, for those folk held the muhajirun in great respect.

A campaign of kidnapping and assassinating began against citizens of countries allied with the American forces, as well as against American soldiers. This resulted in the withdrawal of Japanese, South Korean, and one Latin American country’s forces, as well as the withdrawal of many companies cooperating with the occupation, particularly Turkish ones. The brothers would kidnap soldiers and employees of these armies or companies and film them pleading with their governments to withdraw their forces from the Coalition or to comply with other demands. This campaign had a profound impact on the course of the battles.

One day, our group, along with several smaller factions, intercepted a train belonging to the occupying forces. The spoils came as an unpleasant surprise to everyone: Adult diapers from an American company! On that day, we learned that soldiers used them during battles. Previously, one of them would defecate in his clothes the moment he was captured. This was witnessed by many residents of the Fallujah bridge area during ambushes before the liberation of the city.

Entry #24

17 January, 2026

Piety of the Assembly
The Poet Mujahid

During quieter days, we were allowed to visit other groups. I was close to one of the Iraqi cadres from the Albu Issa tribe. He was an inventive young man. When the special training courses for the larger groups began, I learned that he was working on modifying the SPG-9 launcher. This was welcome news to me, so I hurried to our emir, Shaykh Abu Yassir al-Najdi, to ask his permission to join that workshop and the subsequent work on the SPG-9, as I was inexperienced. My wish was granted.

The workshop was in the house of a man from the ansar who had dedicated his home to this work. After joining the workshop, I began to learn about other achievements and discovered that the C-5K anti-armor shell was originally an air-to-ground missile launched from a military helicopter, but the brothers modified the launch method so that it became one of our most important weapons in battle. The ansar were a beacon of creativity. Many of them had not been religious before the occupation, and perhaps some had even been Ba’athist nationalists.

In the salon of one of the city’s merchants, I met a famous poet, one of Saddam Husayn’s court poets. I didn’t know him, but during our conversation that night, he told me his story with Saddam and about a poem that nearly cost him his life when he recited it at an event. The audience and the president applauded him, but then Saddam sent someone to bring him in. The poet told me that he had manipulated the words of the poem, intending to criticize while ostensibly giving praise. Saddam told him, “I know your intention, and nothing will save you except that you write out the Quran for me in my blood.” He said, “So I started to work on it, but God didn’t allow it to finish. After the occupation, I saw the truth [al-haqq] with the help of my relatives, whom I visit today and some of whom are [jihadist] leaders. I resolved to contribute to the jihad with my wealth because I am getting old.” And so he told me his story, which his family corroborated.

Abu Ja’far al-Shami knocked on the door, and I was the brother closest to it. I opened the door, not recognizing this leader. I noticed he only had three fingers on his hand. He greeted me, asked about the homeowner, and introduced himself. He was the emir of explosives training for the organization. When I learned this, I was immediately interested in it. He told me, “The course will begin soon, so don’t miss it.” And so, day by day, the training began to bear fruit.

Developing weapons was no easy matter. We went to test the C-5K rocket in a suitable area, but the launch’s recoil was so strong that it dislocated the shoulder of the brother who took up the task. Everyone returned to work anew with the same determination, and after a short while, the brother’s workshop became a key workshop.

Some of the brothers were able to manufacture a shell carrying poison gas to retaliate against the occupying forces, who were still trying to enter the city from time to time. This required the permission of the Shura Council, as this was a new, special type of weapon. After explaining the shell’s mechanism and the expected results, the emir of the Council rejected the idea. The reason for the rejection was that the winds were unpredictable, the enemy was on the outskirts of the city, and there was a possibility of harming some residents in the city’s vicinity, so it was not permissible. Such was the verdict. However, it could be used in an attack on any base isolated from cities.

When the sun rose, I was accustomed to a cup of tea. While I and one of the brothers were preparing it, some of the ansar knocked on the door. They came in and we treated them with hospitality. My companion and I were always on high alert, our personal weapons always ready for any attack. We weren’t used to visits, so the pistol was on the sofa while I was busy preparing the tea. The door to the room was opposite the street door in our house, and I was sitting facing both of them. The brothers were on a sofa and a bed, all drinking tea. As I raised my hand with the cup, I felt an electric shock. The cup and my arm both fell. I cried out “Allahu Akbar” as I heard the sound of the gunshot. I thought it was an attack from the direction of the door, but I found all the brothers around me, reciting al-Hawqala.1 One of them was crying, “Forgive me! Forgive me!” I finally understood–it was a shot from my pistol, accidentally fired by the brother who was examining the weapon out of curiosity.

Entry #25

22 January, 2026

Departure and Return
The Tribes of Al Qaim, Iraq

Everyone started going out everyday to frontline posts [ribat], while I and some of the wounded remained at home. This forced some of the brothers to guard us and attend to our needs. After several days of this, the emir suggested we go for treatment. But arranging the departure was difficult, so one of the ansar was tasked with preparing the travel arrangements. After consultations, this brother decided that we should leave Fallujah by train to Al Qaim, then head to Aleppo, where we would wait until we recovered and could return.

I hesitated greatly about leaving Fallujah because there might be a battle at any moment, for the enemy never keeps to any agreement. How many times had they tried to enter the city? I knew that my treatment would require three months before I could return to action. The day of departure was a sad day, as I was bidding farewell to Fallujah, never to return.

Traveling by train was only possible through connections, as this train was used by the government and its employees. You couldn’t travel on it as a muhajir since there were no guards or weapons onboard. But after careful planning, I traveled with some brothers, and God protected us until we reached the city of Al Qaim, where two of the Ansar were waiting to receive us. The signs of the occupation were not apparent in the city streets. Rather, the movement of American forces was only at the city entrances and inside the American base at the onion factory east of the city, with the larger forces at the new base at the Al Qaim border crossing with Albukamal in Syria.

I was received by the Asaib al-Iraq [Tribes of Iraq] group, which was coordinating with some tribes in Fallujah. The brother smuggler who arranged our escape was from that tribe. When I arrived in Al Qaim city, Asaib al-Iraq was fighting for nationalism through an alliance with an Iraqi nationalist group. They did not fight the police, nor did they declare them apostates, as most of the police officers in the city were members of the Anbari tribes. They justified joining the police force by arguing that they were protecting their own people. However, American forces never moved without police escorts, especially during raids to arrest mujahidin.

A few days before our arrival, a major operation was carried out by Asaib al-Iraq, resulting in the death of the commander of the Korean forces in western Iraq. This operation was conducted by a special group led by Abu al-Bara al-Makki, a young man trained in leadership and handling explosives. He devised a new trick unknown to the enemy, which resulted in a well-executed ambush and the death of a high-ranking general in the Korean forces allied with the occupiers. This operation led Asaib al-Iraq to not permit Abu al-Bara al-Makki to travel to Fallujah, where he planned to go. He remained in Al Qaim only waiting for arrangements, then God granted him this success in assassinating the Korean general.

I left Al Qaim for Syria [al-Sham], to the city of Aleppo, via smuggling routes. There I met some brothers, and then arrangements were made for my treatment, which required me to wait three months [until recovery].

Al Qaim was a beautiful city, split by the river into two sections. The northern section was called Husaybah.

When the Second Battle of Fallujah began, I was still recovering. I and dozens of other brothers tried to enter Iraq, but Shaykh Abu Musab, who had become the emir of the organization, sent a message ordering us to wait. The battle had turned into one of annihilation by chemical weapons… So I remained in Syria, learning as much as I needed from every field of knowledge until I returned after four months to find new things that brought joy to the hearts of monotheists [muwahidin].

Fallujah, an insurgent at his post

The next five entries in Adnan Absi’s narrative discuss the First Battle of Fallujah and its aftermath. The narrative primarily focuses on battlefield heroics, many by foreign fighters (muhajirin). A notable detail is the predominance of Arabians among the foreigners. One fighter, Abu al-Bara al-Makki, is reported to have commanded a squad of suicide bombers sent from Fallujah to Baghdad and elsewhere. Another fighter, Abu Yassir al-Najdi, is described as leading an ultimately failed attempt at raiding Abu Ghraib prison. Absi reports that a Coalition airstrike foiled the plan by targeting a foreign fighter safehouse, killing half of the fighters who would go on the raid. This may have been in the same set of airstrikes that killed Abu Muhammad al-Lubnani and Abu Anas al-Shami. A newspaper bulletin from the time summarizes Jama’at al-Tawhid wal-Jihad’s statement on Lubnani’s and Shami’s deaths:

Dubai (AFP) – Jama’at al-Tawhid wal-Jihad, led by Abu Musab al-Zarqawi, confirmed the death of one of its commanders in Iraq, Abu Anas al-Shami, in a statement published on an Islamist website.

Abu Anas al-Shami, an aide to Abu Musab al-Zarqawi, was killed last week in a US attack in Iraq, according to his family in Amman. Regarding Shami’s death near Abu Ghraib prison, the Islamist website stated that “a group of our brothers, about thirty, met their Lord while they were on their way to carry out one of the noblest and most obligatory operations according to Islamic law. They were on their way to rescue our Muslim male and female prisoners in Abu Ghraib prison.” The statement added that another commander, Abu Muhammad al-Lubnani, was the leader of one of the groups and was not the emir of the operation, as had been claimed. It further stated that Abu Muhammad “was not killed in Fallujah in his house, but outside the city shortly before the operation.” The statement, which could not be independently verified, clarified that “Abu Anas and Abu Muhammad were not the right-hand men of Emir Abu Musab al-Zarqawi, as some have claimed, since the second-in-command in Iraq is an Iraqi from the ansar.” It confirmed that “Abu Anas was the sharia jurist,” adding that “the leadership decided not to name the figure that has replaced Shaykh Abu Anas at the moment because mentioning the name may harm the brother in terms of security, so the group’s publications will be in the name of the Sharia Committee.”1

The second-in-command was likely Abu Azzam al-Iraqi, who was as important to JTJ as Abu Anas al-Shami. This accords with Absi’s narrative, which consistently highlights the importance of Iraqis to JTJ even in these early stages.

Entry #16

25 December, 2025

The First Battle of Fallujah

That morning, while I was sitting with the tribal shaykh, I asked him how the jihad began in Fallujah. He told me:

Personally, I wasn’t thinking about fighting. But one day, I went out to the industrial district to get my car repaired. On the way, I saw an American tank parked on one of the roads. I thought for a long time, “Why don’t I get an RPG and try it out on this tank?” So I went back home, got my weapon, and quickly returned. I sat in a place where no one could see me and fired the RPG at the tank, hitting it. I shouted “Allahu Akbar!” and returned without anyone seeing me. I spent the day thinking, “Just like that, I hit it. Why can’t I do that every day?” From that day on, I started forming groups and instilling the spirit of jihad among the youth. It’s not difficult, it’s just a matter of taking action–and God is the One who ultimately decides.

This tribal shaykh, a devout and generous man, was brimming with youthful energy, easily moved to tears when the Prophet (peace be upon him) was mentioned. That’s how I knew him. I saw various types of weapons, none of which I understood at all. My knowledge of weapons was weak at the time, as I hadn’t completed my mandatory military service in my country and had evaded the training drills in the so-called “Popular Defense” program, which was compulsory during the rule of the Islamic Movement in the country. I learned then the importance of training, for a strong believer is better and more beloved in the sight of God than a weak one. I asked my commander to have someone train me, but it was a very difficult matter then, as the city was under occupation and movements were clandestine and covert. Then came the incident of the immolation of the Mossad agents in the streets of Fallujah, and the war erupted in all its ugliness.

The city was a center for the mujahidin despite being under the administrative control of the puppet Iraqi government and the frequent movements of the American army through it accompanied by police vehicles. The killing of the four contractors led the American forces to impose a complete siege on the city, aiming to subdue it, as it represented a major obstacle to the occupation’s control of Anbar. There were initial negotiations with the goal of handing over those responsible for the incident to whitewash America’s image, but the negotiations failed. The American army and its allies then besieged the city with a force of 25,000 fully equipped and supported by air cover from all types of aircraft (Chinook, Apache, F-16, and reconnaissance).

On 5 April, 2004, the American offensive began with massive artillery and air bombardment. The attackers expected to easily seize the city within hours or days. However, the American forces were surprised by fierce and unexpected resistance (their statements had suggested a complete victory). The exodus from the city began, and panic among the civilian population reached its peak, but God strengthened a small group of monotheists [muwahidin], no more than 5,000 as far as I know. The city had tribal ties outside its borders, so it did not fight alone. The ansar were the building blocks of the community, and the muhajirin were the fuel for the fire of war, which suddenly consumed eighty enemy troops in the industrial district.

The fighting intensified, and the brothers had only light and medium weapons. Even the DShK machine gun was unsuitable because the brothers lacked military vehicles. Airstrikes made moving in vehicles equipped with anti-aircraft guns extremely difficult. They had mortars of various sizes and modified rockets such as the SPG-9 and C-5K. The battles were unequal by worldly standards, but God’s victory was assured.

Rare footage of takbir chants broadcasted from mosques in Fallujah during combat. Courtesy of DrVergilSparda on Twitter.

In Fallujah, the brothers would broadcast Quranic recitations and jihadi nasheeds through mosque loudspeakers, which irritated the American forces, so they used their own loudspeakers and played Western music to drown out the Quran. The American forces used their entire arsenal to bombard the city. But then came the surprise: A well-executed ambush and the capture of thirty enemy soldiers. This forced the enemy to request a ceasefire, under any conditions whatsoever, in exchange for the release of the prisoners. The American people exert immense pressure on their leadership whenever any defeat or loss of their sons looms over the horizon, as their leaders constantly assure them that they are an “invincible” force.

After a torrent of blood was paid for this victory, the commander of the American forces met with the negotiating delegation from the city, headed by two respected shaykhs. The following terms were dictated:

1. American forces must withdraw from the city.

2. Compensation must be paid for destroyed homes and facilities.

3. The city’s security forces must be formed from its residents, and the city will be governed by the resistance–that is, the mujahidin–with the central government paying their salaries.

4. Prisoners must be released.

5. The resistance (the mujahidin) will not participate in any operations against American forces outside the city.

“Glory belongs to God, His Messenger, and the Believers, but the hypocrites do not know.” This agreement was documented with video and audio recordings, but the weakness of the media at the time prevented this matter from gaining widespread recognition. When I watched this recording, I remembered how the Prophet (peace and blessings be upon him) and his Companions lived in the glory of Islam.

Entry #17

29 December, 2025

Muhajirin and Ansar

The cinema in Fallujah was the headquarters of the Islamic Party (the Muslim Brotherhood in Iraq). This cinema was burned down by the people of Fallujah in protest against its presence among them. The city was generally conservative in its religious practices. Such was the honor of the City of Mosques! The Islamic Party initially vacillated with regard to the occupation, and its role became apparent in the negotiations of the First Battle of Fallujah. There was no way to stop the fighting between the brothers and the occupying army except through a mediator from within the city.

The enemy rushed to request negotiations through the mediator on the day when a number of barbarians were completely surrounded deep within the industrial district, facing the choice of being captured or killed. There was no escape. Either they would all be incinerated with precision weapons or spared through negotiations. The emir told me that the delegation of notables who brokered the truce first confirmed the mere acceptance of a ceasefire through communications with the mujahidin shura council. Everything was accomplished under wise and judicious leadership, as we believe, and the city breathed the air of submission to God.

The markets reopened, life returned, compensation arrived, and the hisbah [religious police] spread throughout the city, calling to good, guiding, and assisting the needy. Then the true preparation of the mujahidin began, coming from every corner of the world. Fallujah became a haven for muhajirin. The muhajir was a cherished figure among the city’s inhabitants. I fondly remember those days. Whenever I entered a shop to buy something, those around me would rush to pay, thanking us for our steadfastness. After God, we feared only the hypocrites among the city’s people.

I moved to a new residence near the mosque of Shaykh Abdullah al-Janabi. In that guesthouse, I lived with nine muhajir brothers from various lands of God: France, Spain, Egypt, Syria, the Arabian Peninsula, and others. Our lives were indescribably pleasant and filled with the beauty of brotherhood. By night, there was prayer and worship, and by day, training and study. The shaykhs would visit us periodically during their rounds with the groups. By the grace of God, I found everything I had hoped for. I came to know the true essence of Islam among them. I will mention two incidents that had a profound impact on my life and thought.

First, Shaykh Abu Muhammad al-Jazrawi, a scholar from the Hijaz, came to us. God had blessed him with hijra, and he reached the city of Al Qaim without shaving his beard, which was quite rare. He came to us after spending some time in Al Qaim, calling to God in its mosques, participating in the fighting, and combating the grave-worshippers [Sufis] until the residents of the Husaybah area demolished a dome where people used to bring their sick folk. It was a victory upon victory. The niqab spread among the women, and the number joining the ranks of the mujahidin increased. This venerable shaykh visited us at the guesthouse, and after we had hosted him, he said, his face beaming with joy, “By God, today is one of the happiest days of my life, for I have visited your brothers on frontline duty [ribat] on the edge of the city’s industrial district. There, I sat upon a rock that they had made into a seat for me. What a blessed gathering!” Yes, I know this wonderful feeling, for it is the feeling of every muhajir in radiant Fallujah.

The second incident involved one of the young men from among the ansar whom we met at one of the headquarters. While we were on guard duty, he told me how he had come from the far northwest of Iraq to witness the Battle of Fallujah, though he had no money, and how difficult the road had been. He explained that he came from a village whose inhabitants were collaborators with the barbarians, concerned only with prolonging their worldly life. When he found no one to fight alongside him, nor train or help him, he decided to migrate to Fallujah to fight, gain strength, and return to his village with weapons and men to lead the jihad there. He possessed the spirit of a lion and the soul of a free man who saw martyrdom as a prize. May God reward him! A wondrous verse would moved him to tears until I felt pity for him. He would often say, “I cannot control myself when I hear it”–the saying of the Exalted: {But as for me: He is God, my Lord, and I will never associate anyone with my Lord.} [Quran 18:38]

Entry #18

2 January, 2026

Breaking of the Pact & War of the Spies

Naturally, the occupying army did not abide by the pact, and there were routine violations of this truce through aerial bombardment of some locations using GPS devices placed by spies in the headquarters of the mujahidin. These spy networks were comprised of Iraqis themselves, some of whom were recruited to work on these malicious tasks. After the mujahidin consolidated control in the city, the phase of preparations began. The city became a vital center sheltering every oppressed person and everyone who wished to train. Camps were set up everywhere, though not in open areas, where most of the brothers who carried out lone wolf operations were trained. Study circles [halaqat al-‘ilm] were held in most mosques.

One day, Shaykh Abu Yassir al-Najdi gathered us and told us he wanted to carry out an important raid and that everyone should prepare for it. We had two important safehouses. In one of them there were some twenty-odd brothers, and in the other, we did not number more than twenty The mission was entrusted to us at these two safehouses, and the arrangements for the operation began. On the morning of the day we had decided to set out, while the brothers were studying the Quran, an airstrike occurred, and the city awoke to the sounds of explosions. Three missiles from an F-16 hit one of the safehouses. No one survived. As for our safehouse, the missile missed its target and landed near the outer wall. The city was mobilized, and everyone rushed towards the sound of the explosions. When we arrived, we found everything destroyed and the brothers buried under the rubble.

We began removing the rubble to rescue the brothers, while security forces cordoned off the area to search for the spy. The method of the traitors had become well-known: A spy would arrive and throw the device that captures coordinates, signaling the aircraft control room. Then the jet would come and bomb in the device location. The spy would then be asked to go and report from the ground detailing who was killed, how many, and all the specifics. This mission could cost the spy his life, but every spy hoped to survive and receive the $100, which, as the spies would tell us, they received in payment for this treachery.

So the brothers cordoned off the area, and by the grace of God Almighty, the spy was arrested. She was a Shiite woman working for a network led by an Iraqi police officer residing in Ramadi, who commanded a network of spies operating in the cities of Anbar. When this woman was interrogated, she said that while she was going around the neighborhood searching for the brothers’ safehouses, she learned that this house had foreigners [ghuraba] inside. She opened the door and was surprised to find a young man under a car repairing it. He looked up and saw her, but quickly lowered his head when he realized she was a woman. She said she quickly threw the device onto some rubble near the door and hurried out, closing the door behind her. After her confession, she was executed by firing squad.

As for our martyred brothers–we consider them martyrs, and God is their Judge–we learned that they were in a gathering of dhikr when we lifted the rubble and retrieved some of the bodies intact. Some of them had pages from the Book of God in their hands, and they were all in one place. People gathered there, reciting takbir as they carried them. For by Him who raised the heavens without pillars, a scent emanated from the pages of the Quran stained with their blood, a perfume unlike any I had ever smelled before, so fragrant that even the ignorant ones–who tried to seek blessings from them–prevented us from obtaining these pages.

Our postponed raid, aimed at Abu Ghraib prison, was intended to free our captive brothers and sisters in response to the cry for help of a Muslim woman who had suffered the torments of torture and rape at the hands of the Rawafidh and the barbarians. Our emir swore that he would not rest until they were freed, even if we all perished. And so, as God’s wisdom decreed: “None perish but in the light of truth, and none live but in the light of truth.” [Lit. “He who perishes does so upon clear proof, and he who lives does so upon clear proof.”]

Entry #19

4 January, 2026

Who among us can compare to them?

I used to go to prayer at the mosque of Shaykh Abdullah al-Janabi. One day, while I was going to pray, I passed two young men from the ansar. One of them said to me, “Won’t you come with us?” I asked him where to, and the other quickly replied, “Do you know how to use Katyusha rockets?” I answered no. After a brief conversation, I found myself riding with them in a car on the highway. Suddenly, the driver turned off the road into the middle of the farms on a route he seemed to know well. I was sitting in the back of the car at the time.

I called out to warn him because, as we descended the road, I saw an American military balloon in the mountains near Ain al-Asad Air Base near Ramadi. The brother, who was the emir of the operation, told me to pay no heed, that they would proceed with the missile launches. And indeed, we proceeded, and within a short time, we returned by the same route. Although the sound of the launches was clear, no one from the direction of the barbarian base responded. The brother began explaining to me the methods of these barbarian occupiers: “If you launch a missile at his brother and don’t ask him, then he won’t ask you either. That’s how they operate.” This brother had lost his right arm at the elbow during Saddam Husayn’s time, and now he was wanted by the infidels despite his prosthetic limb. I marveled at the fortitude of these ansar.

I witnessed something else remarkable about one of the muhajirin from the Arabian Peninsula. He was Abu al-Hur, a student of sharia who called people to God and fought in His Cause. He had a well-known program where he would visit the homes of the ansar to console the families of martyrs and the wounded, and to encourage others to join the ranks of jihad. His nickname was originally Abu Khadija, but because of the many dreams he had of being with the huris in Paradise, he became known among us as Abu al-Hur. During one of the American army’s attempts to storm the city, breaking the agreement, a fierce battle ensued, to the point that we only found a few hours of rest each day, alternating turns.

While Shaykh Abu Yassir was directing the brothers, Abu al-Hur–whom we consider a martyr–slipped from his grasp as he plunged into the enemy, shouting, “The huri! The huri!! By God, I see her!” Abu Yassir cried out to stop his advance as he went off alone, but a sniper’s bullet struck his head and another his chest, and Abu al-Hur departed from our world.

By Him in whose hand is my soul, I carried him with my brothers after the battle, and his blood was still dripping. It hadn’t clotted, nor had his body grown cold like the dead. What a death it was!

These are examples of those upon whose skulls the Islamic State of Iraq was built, after years of steadfastness.

I used to see handsome faces in the city streets, their beards and white robes concealing their beauty. If you approached them, a fragrance would emanate from them, and their faces would be serene and dignified. One day, as I looked at one of them, I said, “How beautiful is the demeanor of Ahlus-Sunnah!” My companion replied, “These are the hypocrites who do not fight and say to us, ‘Be patient, for fighting contains strife.’”

Fallujah was the land of hijra, preparation, and ribat [frontline defense]. I remember the brother Abu al-Bara al-Makki, who went out with twelve explosive-laden lions [suicide bombers] in a single day, and with their fire set Baghdad and other places ablaze. He used to say to me, “I love you for the sake of God, my brother, but we did not come here to meet one another. Rather, we came so that a bullet might come from here and exit here”–and he pointed to his neck. May God reward you! And how black has the night become after you left!

Entry #20

7 January, 2026

Fallujah: A Failed Attempt

The city of Fallujah enjoyed several months of security and freedom under the rule the Law of God after the April 2004 agreement. The occupying American army made numerous attempts to enter the city, constantly monitoring its outskirts in search of weaknesses. This continued every month until the infamous battle of November 2004, in which the British and the puppet Iraqi army, appointed by the occupiers, participated. The largest attempt by the American army to enter the city one day occurred when two Humvees tried to enter the city’s outskirts from the direction of the industrial district. They quickly withdrew without encountering resistance, as if they were searching for a breach. Much commotion arose in the area, and people soon spread rumors.

On that day, an F-16 fighter jet bombed one of the safehouses. The brothers were sleeping around the garden, and when they woke up, they sat on its edges. A missile came and landed in the middle of the garden but didn’t explode, leaving its tip lodged in the mud. There was a tremor from the missile’s impact, but no one in the house was harmed. This was the reason for our move to a new safehouse in the city center. After the missile fell, people gathered near the house and learned that there were muhajirin there. We were afraid of spies, so I decided to leave the house and go to the headquarters of Emir Shaykh Abu Yassir to inform him of the danger of our presence there, as his instructions were not to move from that house. I was in charge of the house at the time.

When I arrived at the command center, the orders came to prepare, for a battle was at the gates. Enemy tanks had gathered on the outskirts of the city, and the brothers learned that there was an attempt to storm the city. Everyone mobilized, and skirmishes began on the edges of the military district. The brothers were divided into groups to guard and defend sectors. Our assignment was the defenses of the military district. The assault was an attempt to enter the city from the east. When we reached the defensive positions, we found everything prepared. The emirs were ready for this. They understood the situation very well.

All the contact zones and fighting areas had been evacuated of civilians. Everyone went to the city center, and the mosques began broadcasting the Quran through loudspeakers. It was an awe-inspiring sight. We were divided into two groups: one to fight while the other rested inside the city, then the rotation would take place, with one group going and the other returning.

The fighting continued for three consecutive days, with each group’s share being twelve hours, after which they would rotate. The fighting continued with intermittent pauses. The American army began to despair and, as usual, sent negotiators who arrived bearing “sedatives” [that is, terms to end the conflict – Rob], as always. They requested a ceasefire to negotiate, so everything stopped. A calm descended upon the entire city until a new truce agreement was signed.

The heat was intense in the afternoon on the day of the agreement. While we were checking on our wounded and sharing the Muslims’ joy at defeating the enemy, I suddenly saw a delivery truck stop in front of our safehouse. An Iraqi man got out, shouting “Allahu Akbar” and saying, “May God reward you with good! This is ice cream to help you cool down.” The man, who owned a well-known shop in the city, drove around among the brothers. Then the gifts continued to pour in from merchants and restaurant owners, until we were sated with chicken that day.

That day was difficult for some, for it was an epic event that shook the hearts of those who fought for the first time. So, then what, did any of them leave the arena and return to his country?

Iraqi insurgents on the streets of Fallujah

The next five entries of Adnan Absi’s narrative describe his earliest experiences in the Iraqi jihadist movement, right up to the First Battle of Fallujah. He begins with his perilous journey from Al Qaim on the Iraqi-Syrian border to Fallujah. Upon arrival, Adnan and his fellow foreign fighters went to the mosque (said to be a jihadist hotspot) of Abdullah al-Janabi, who appears prominently here. Janabi and other tribal leaders gave a warm welcome to the fighters, who were then taken in by the shaykh of the city’s largest tribe. Local shaykhs then circulated posters with the religious ruling on collaborating with the Coalition, describing it as apostasy punishable by death. This was no idle talk, as a local truck driver has been executed by a native jihadist, said to be an emir of a group. This all points to a surprisingly strong pro-jihadist political environment in Fallujah. Local local notables pushed an insurgent-aligned message and accommodated foreign fighters, who were, in turn, absorbed by ideologically jihadist groups already formed by local fighters.

Adnan and other jihadists began going out on regular night raids and ambushes on nearby highways and farmlands, something also reported in multiple entries of the Biographies of the Distinguished Martyrs. In one raid, an emir ominously says that the fate of spies is already known to the local public, deterring people from collaborating with the Coalition. The insurgents were already subverting the occupation. Adnan also mentions an Arabian jihadist called Abu Tariq, possibly Abu Tariq al-Yemeni, a co-founder of the Rawah Camp. His biography reports that after the Rawah Camp’s destruction, he went to another camp for special training–perhaps the one in Fallujah? The Abu Tariq from Adnan’s story is given special emphasis, but Adnan does not say whether he was the Yemeni figure. In any case, Adnan reports that he and other fighters were housed by a local Iraqi jihadist, whose tribe in general was highly supportive of foreign fighters.

Lastly, Adnan reveals a fascinating detail about the slaying of the four Blackwater contractors right before the First Battle of Fallujah. He reports that a jihadist had infiltrated an American base near Fallujah, acting as an apparent Iraqi collaborator working for the Coalition. The infiltrator shared details of the Blackwater patrol routes, leading to the mercenaries to be intercepted and executed. I believe that this is the first time that this information has ever been disclosed. It wasn’t mentioned even in Abu Anas al-Shami’s diary. This would suggest a remarkable degree of operational sophistication among Iraqi jihadists.

Entry #11

6 December, 2025

Fallujah, the City of Glory

We set off at dawn from the city of Al Qaim. There were five of us in an ordinary sedan. The brother in charge of the trip spoke to us, saying, “I always carry this bomb with me since I’m wanted, and the driver carries one too. As for you, pray fervently that we face no trouble on the road.” Words that made me take this new reality deadly seriously from its first moment. I understood that this was a road that doesn’t ask if you’re ready. From the moment you set out for the sake of God, be prepared for the journey to end right then and there. If you don’t expect that, don’t even begin until you’re ready for it. All these thoughts raced through my mind, and then I turned to prayer.

We entered the town of Baghdadi through one of the most difficult places I’ve ever seen in Iraq. The mountain was on your right, the river on your left, and the road was incredibly narrow with no other passage. Suddenly, the first American tank appeared on the side of the road, and soldiers were everywhere. The passage was only wide enough for one car. Everyone was being searched: each car would stop, they would look inside it, question every person, and so on… Humvees, two tanks, soldiers–as if it were the End.

Holding my breath, I was amazed at the calm of the brother in charge. The situation was incredibly difficult for the likes of us three muhajirin. When the search of the car in front us ended, suddenly the soldier stepped back, another raised the barrier, and everything changed. The shift had ended! They signaled to us to pass. By God, I couldn’t believe it. The soldier didn’t even look at the brother, he just signaled everyone to go.

We continued onward, praising and glorifying God, until we reached the city of glory and dignity, Fallujah. The first place we went was the mosque of Shaykh Janabi, which served as the headquarters for the mujahidin in the city. The Shaykh and his companions received us with the warmest welcome, with a hospitality and generosity I cannot describe lest I fail to give it its due.

The Shaykh asked those present, “Who will take these young men?” The men vied for the honor, and we were chosen by the shaykh of the largest tribe there (I apologize for not mentioning its name, but God knows who they are). I would sometimes tell my mother, may God have mercy on her, that among these people, I almost forgot I was Sudanese and married. I often forgot my family in the midst of the joy and peace that I felt. My life took on another flavor. We would go out at night to set up ambushes and return after sunrise to study Islamic jurisprudence and seek out anything that would increase our knowledge of the sciences of warfare.

The city was still under the rule of the puppet government and the guard of the occupiers. Therefore, no muhajir could leave without a mask, and so it was a war of advance and retreat. Yet, despite the difficulty, you found a spirit of community, of sacrifice and charity, from young and old alike.

Some shaykhs, may God reward them well, issued a printed fatwa, which they posted on every wall and in every place, regarding the ruling on those who cooperate with the occupiers. I recall from it: “Whoever transports so much as dust for them, or guides them to a path, or does so-and-so... has apostatized from the religion by allying with them against the Muslims.” They also cited the words of Shaykh Ahmad Shakir (may God have mercy on him), regarding the ruling on cooperating with the occupation during the time of French and British colonialism. After this fatwa and its widespread circulation, no collaborator had a solid argument in front of the common people.

We woke up early one day and found the young men in our designated headquarters talking about the killing of a truck driver who was transporting soil to the American camp. People didn’t know who killed him. They only said that a car appeared behind the truck, overtook it, and then someone shot the driver, causing the truck to overturn and instantly killing the driver.

One of the ansar [Iraqi] brothers told us that he knew who killed him–his own nephew, the emir of one of the groups. He said, “He killed him so that the brothers would know that we do not compromise on the religion of God.” This event was a profound lesson for people like me because we were raised in the school of Irja [loosely, “deferral”]1 that controls my country. For me, putting words into action took great effort.

Entry #12

10 December, 2025

An Unforgettable Night

Shaykh Abu Ali al-Ansari began explaining the plan: “We will leave in the evening, and we will set up the ambush tonight against the occupation forces in that quiet neighborhood on the highway. The car is ready.” This was the first time in my life that I would participate, alongside the brothers of tawhid, in an act that every mujahid dreams of. Then, after the plan was explained, I wondered how exactly we would reach the place in just one car!

When the time came to set off, I stood among the trees in that profound darkness, looking at the sky as if I saw a ceaseless movement–some angels descending and others ascending, carrying souls to wherever God willed. My imagination soared, and I felt as if I were ascending with them as a martyr. Moments that I will never forget, as if I had been transformed into something else, longing for the first rank of companions around the Messenger of God, peace and blessings be upon him. I thought it was the last night of my earthly life. Suddenly, I was awakened from my dreaming, which I had mistaken for reality, by the voice of the emir saying to me, “Abu Musab, come, let’s go.”

Carrying the weapons, our car moved, preceded by a group of young men on just bicycles. The city was fast asleep, with no movement until we reached our destination and were deployed to our positions. I asked our emir, “Could one of the residents come out and report us to the barbarians or the Iraqi police?” He answered, “No, for the people here are either with you or silent, because the punishment for a spy, if discovered, is well known.” The city was under occupation control, but it was run by Iraqi agents from Ahlus-Sunnah and the Iraqi police were responsible for protecting the occupation army and managing security. However, Iraqi soldiers generally did not fight alone. This was before the First Battle of Fallujah.

My job that day was small: To protect the backs of the brothers in one of the streets. An incident occurred that I will never forget. I had believed that those belonging to the Iraqi police were apostates for reasons clear in the sharia, the greatest of which was that they fought against anyone fighting the despicable occupier. This constituted an act of disbelief, in addition to the fact that they were soldiers in a government that did not rule by God’s law. This was a ruling I learned from the Quran and Sunnah after my previous return from Baghdad. The shaykhs of the jihad never ceased writing to clarify the doctrine of monotheism due to the severity of the battle. But I never expected that I would hesitate to apply these rulings to reality.

The Iraqi police came from the direction I was supposed to be protecting. When I saw the soldiers, I was torn apart by my own conscience: “How can you kill Sunni Iraqis? They have committed an act of disbelief for money, not out of love for the occupier. Perhaps they are excused?…” The situation couldn’t bear such hesitation. But glory be to God, the police car drove off without seeing me. Had they entered the street, I would have had to stop their advance toward the ambush by a ruse, as per the leadership’s instructions, and failing that, I would have had to use the weapon. After this situation passed peacefully, we waited until the break of dawn, but the convoy didn’t come. So we returned to headquarters without a fight.

That day, I realized I needed more knowledge to firmly establish the rulings in my heart with complete certainty. Then I would apply what I had learned. The influence of Irja and secularism that I had been raised on still lingered within me.

Entry #13

14 December, 2025

The SAM-7

Abu Tariq was a young man in the prime of his life from the Arabian Peninsula who had emigrated with his wealth and his life. I met him at the muhajirin camp. He was kind-hearted, humorous, and well-liked by everyone. He told me his strange story, and I never saw him lie during our time together. In fact, I believed him to be a good man. He had bought an anti-aircraft missile, known as a SAM-7, with his own money, and God granted the shooter success in destroying an aircraft carrying 200 infidels. It was an event that shook the enemy, brought joy to the city’s inhabitants, and solace to the hearts of the believers. So I recall his story in the Anbar desert, where he told me:

We were in a tent, keeping our weapons and mortars outside, training in the desert. There were no more than five of us. We heard the sound of a helicopter in the distance, so we went back inside the tent and covered the mortars so the aircraft wouldn’t spot them. The emir then ordered us to remain silent and still, each of us taking hold of our weapons. We held our breaths as the sound drew closer. Then we heard the sound of gunfire directed at us. I saw nothing but dust around me, and I suddenly closed my eyes. It was as if something had settled in my heart–a profound peace and tranquility. Then, equally suddenly, I woke up to find the brothers around me, the tent shredded, and all of us in a deep sleep–with the mortar in its place. Everything was shattered and torn apart except for our bodies.

Glory be to God, nothing had happened to us. We marveled, our voices rising, “There is no god but God alone, without partner” [la illaha illallah wahda la sharika la]–as if it were a dream. In our amazed shock, we did not speak to one another, and each of us thanked our Lord for what He had revealed to us. We knew it was only God’s protection and hardening of our conviction, for there is no explanation for what had happened except that nothing can thwart God; and had your Lord willed, He alone could have vanquished them, but He only wants us to act.

This was a lesson for them and for me, as I was just beginning my journey. Praise be to God who bestowed His favor upon me, for I later saw things that strengthened my conviction in the truth of my path to God.

Our headquarters where we resided were part of the house of one of the ansar [Iraqi] brothers. It was a large hall with an attached bathroom, its doors opening onto farmland. The area was steps away from the river. All the houses here belonged to one tribe, and they were of one heart. The brother’s wife prepared everything for us: food, tea, laundry, and hot water. She was a model of hospitality in its most beautiful form. Beyond this, she longed for martyrdom, as her husband would often tell us, so we prayed for her to achieve it.

One day, the occupying army was ambushed near our area on the main road. Seven military vehicles were destroyed. It was just an IED. The explosives went off and destroyed everything in moments. The occupying forces then swept the area, entering houses one by one, and so the brother took us to a palm grove with some unfinished houses to hide us until the search was over. A direct confrontation in that location would have been a mistake. The right thing to do at that time was to remain hidden, as urban warfare has its own tactics.

After the Crusader army withdrew, we returned to our headquarters, and our host returned to his wife to reassure troubled spirits. She noticed a trace of gypsum on his clothes and asked him, “What is this?” He told her that he had taken us to such-and-such place. She then rebuked us all, saying, “The barbarians came to you themselves! How could you leave without making them taste death at your hands?!” May God have mercy on her, she wanted nothing more than for us to confront them, come what may. And perhaps she was sincere with God, so God was sincere with her, for she was killed–and we consider her a martyr–in the explosion of her house during the First Battle of Fallujah. May God accept her and reward her on behalf of the muhajirin with the best of rewards. Who among us can find someone like her today?

Entry #14

17 December, 2025

Infiltrating the Enemy

The movement of the muhajirin and the ansar at night was conducted in complete secrecy. Wearing masks was necessary to avoid being recognized during our operations. This was due to the presence of spies and the widespread deployment of the treacherous Iraqi police checkpoints. Many of the ansar brothers went about their lives normally during the day. There was an American base to the east of the city, and another one on the road to Ramadi to the west. The Iraqi government was the right-hand of the occupier, acting on its orders and sometimes even more brutal than the occupier itself, as it was completely under the control of the Rawafidh.

An Iraqi brother told me that they used to live a normal life with the Shiites, only privately rejecting their superstitions, such as the rituals of burying the dead and reciting the names of the Ahlul-Bayt after burial, under the pretext that the deceased would be questioned about it in their grave. However, after the occupation, many were shocked by the true face of the Rawafidh. Shiite areas from Basra to Baghdad handed over their stockpiles of chemical weapons and other armaments, even ordinary Kalashnikovs, all in exchange for money from the occupying army. They were strong allies of the occupiers. Then collaboration began to spread among Ahlus-Sunnah, driven by a scramble for wealth following the starvation of the Iraqi people caused by the sanctions and the war.

One day, I went with one of the ansar to his house to talk to his brother, who had joined the Iraqi police force, claiming that he was deceiving them, taking the salary but not joining any combat. The young man, not yet even twenty, told me how he had frustrated the American trainer and the Iraqi translator as they explained how to disable landmines, making them think that he didn’t understand so he would be assigned to regular patrols instead of special operations. He said he’d taken the money and done whatever he wanted with it, and so on and so forth… It was a difficult conversation with him, as he hadn’t grasped the gravity of the matter. But by the grace of God, after several hours, God opened his heart to the truth and to understand the sharia ruling on his situation and the danger it posed to his life. He decided to work with his brother and leave the police force.

Some might have thought it better for him to continue serving as a mole for the brothers, but there are conditions for those who infiltrates the occupation army on behalf of the brothers. The most important condition is that he possesses strong creed and knowledge so as not to fall into doubt or an act that nullifies his faith–unless compelled to do so–and that he has expertise in the task assigned to him.

The operation that precipitated the First Battle of Fallujah in April 2004 was a well-executed ambush by the brothers at a major intersection in the city leading to the Ramadi road. Four American contractors (said to be Mossad) were killed and their bodies dragged through the streets. The success of this operation was due, after God’s grace, to a brother working deep within the ranks of the forces inside the American base east of the city. He provided crucial information about the contractors’ movements, their route, and the timing of their departure. They were wearing civilian clothes and using a civilian vehicle as a disguise on their route to Ramadi.

After the ambush succeeded and the contractors were killed, the citizens dragged their bodies through the streets and burned them in jubilation and to express their hatred for the occupiers. These were ordinary people who did this after the brothers withdrew from the ambush, leaving the bodies in the road. This prompted the American forces to launch a large-scale attack aimed at taking revenge on the mujahidin and the entire city’s population, as the operation had been a disaster for them.

The brother was killed before he could withdraw from the base, as he was discovered near the base’s gate. May God accept him as a martyr.

Entry #15

22 December, 2025

Some Context

When America invaded Iraq, there were two Shiite factions vying for leadership of the Shiite community: one Arab and the other Persian (Iranian). The first was led by the Arab Muqtada al-Sadr, and the second by the Iranian-born Ali al-Sistani, who succeeded as head of the hawza [seminary] the Shiite leader Muhammad Baqir al-Hakim, who was assassinated in a bombing in Najaf by the mujahidin just four months after the invasion,

On the one hand, the Sadrist current called for resistance against the occupation (through the army they called the Mahdi Army), which led to confrontations between them and the American army and its agents in Sadr City and Najaf. After pressure, they turned to politics, occasionally resorting to military action. On the other hand, the Sistani current cooperated with the occupation for political reasons and to gain power, enjoying popular support and backing from Iran.

The conflict between Shiite factions was confined to Shiite areas, namely southern Iraq, Baghdad and its belts–Rawafidh constituted 40% of Baghdad’s population on the day that the occupation began its assault. Ahlus-Sunnah were later expelled from Basra and Baghdad under threat of death and forced displacement, so these cities became predominantly Shiite–and God is the one whose help is sought.

The operations of the mujahidin were few and sometimes almost nonexistent in the cities south of Baghdad (Basra, Najaf, Kufa, Karbala, Hilla, and others). These cities were 100% Rafidhi, except for Basra at the time, but now it too has reached this proportion due to sectarian displacement. The assassination of the supreme Shiite religious authority, Muhammad Baqir al-Hakim, was a major blow to the Rafidhi establishment and a significant breakthrough. It was one of the most difficult operations to complete.

Northern Iraq was under the control of Iraqi Kurds who sought independence from the Iraqi state. Therefore, they did not engage in conflict with the occupying forces but rather saw them as a savior representing a step forward. Although these Kurdish politicians and military figures are entirely secular, they do not represent the entire population of the north, as there are Kurds who follow the way of Ahlus-Sunnah wal-Jam’ah [Sunni Islam]. The capital of these important secular Kurdish parties is Erbil, which has housed bases for the Jews and the Americans since the beginning of the occupation until now.

So this is Iraq, with its quarrels and complex environment, and its capital, Baghdad, the largest capital in the Arab world. Let no one think that the occupation united the entire people [against it], making jihad easy in the Land of Two Rivers!

26 March, 2003: Iraqi militiaman on patrol in the streets of Baghdad during a sandstorm

The next five entries in Adnan Absi’s narrative recount Baghdad’s fall into betrayal and chaos, his desperate attempts to escape Iraq for Syria, and finally his return back to Iraq to join the jihadist movement proper. The account is highly revealing.

We learn of the Ba’athist authorities’ abdication of its role to defend Iraq or its citizens. Adnan reports that their priority was the evacuation of party members from Iraq, while the country itself lost all control. The apparent purpose of welcoming the foreign fighters was to use them as human shields while Ba’athist officials made their escape. As for Adnan and his comrades, they were left to somehow survive in a strange environment, amidst great treachery. Here Adnan’s sectarian agenda is quite apparent, as he blames the worst perfidy on Iraqi Shiites, contemptuously called “Rafidah” throughout the entries. It’s very unlikely that they were as treacherous as Adnan claims, but it’s suggestive that such sectarian views were already being expressed by Iraqis themselves. Adnan recounts an incident where a kindly old man who assists him bemoans the supposed treachery of Shiites. Similarly, Shiite political forces were roundly hostile to the Ba’ath and largely receptive to the Coalition forces–this was particularly the case with the Da’wa Party and SCIRI. It was these tensions that Zarqawi and other Salafi Jihadists in Iraq saw as the perfect fuel for their project.

In any case, Adnan managed to escape Baghdad through embassy-facilitated evacuations to Syria. There, he and other volunteers were temporarily detained in the infamous Palestine Branch prison of Damascus before being received by their respective embassies. After their release, Adnan and other foreign fighters remained in Damascus for some time, although this is not explicitly stated. One day, one of his comrades (another foreign fighter, as indicated by the epithet “al-Muhajir”) chided him for abandoning the jihadist cause, urging him to again fight in Iraq. Adnan agrees because he had heard of the “events in Rawah,” a fascinating allusion to the Rawah Camp where Jama’at al-Tawhid wal-Jihad (JTJ) was founded. This means that news of the camp was rapidly being circulated through jihadist networks in Syria and elsewhere in the region–a blip of the Salafist International.

Another blip comes in Adnan’s account of his re-entry into Iraq. Unlike his first entry, when the Syrian government openly sent bus convoys to the border, the fighters now had to rely on smuggling routes. Adnan adds that their entry was coordinated by an Iraqi jihadist operating in Syria. The Assad regime was extremely hostile to jihadist smuggling networks. The sharp division between the regime’s routes and jihadist routes confirms information I received several months ago. I believe Adnan’s narrative is the first to publicly reveal this division. Jihadist networks never trusted the regime, which, in turn, monitored everyone who went over the fence into Iraq. This is apparent in Abu Muhammad al-Salmani’s narrative, particularly his account of the Syrian spy Abu Mu’adh, who was sent to infiltrate the Rawah Camp. Upon entering Iraq, Adnan and his comrades were welcomed by a sympathetic family, who briefly sheltered and fed them. This corresponds with Salmani’s claim that the Rawah-based network had friendly relations with local villagers.

The fighters were then taken to Husaybah, where a local Iraqi emir–belonging to one of several “small groups”–met them to either recruit them into the Husaybah-based jihadist network or facilitate their journey onward to Fallujah. Adnan’s Iraqi comrade from earlier had referred him to this emir, which again points to a wider regional jihadist information network. It’s telling that this emir was not only part of a local jihadist network, but was in close contact with other networks, as in Fallujah. This would accord with my previous analysis (Part 1, Part 2) that the Iraqi jihadist underground had Iraq-wide information networks, which were themselves tied to international networks. The emir added that Fallujah was where “most muhajirin went,” meaning that this route was already well-established and well-known. The driver who would take Adnan and his comrades was himself a seasoned jihadist, having killed four spies and seized their gear. It’s unclear how closely linked all these networks were to the Rawah Camp, but the emphasis Adnan puts on the “events in Rawah” seems to suggest that they were all under one general umbrella.

Entry #6

10 October, 2025

Six of us young volunteers gathered on the third floor of the hospital to discuss our dilemma. What were we to do now that Baghdad airport had fallen into the hands of the foreign barbarians,1 with helicopters circling above the hospital and in the skies over Baghdad?

My Syrian friend and I went to central Baghdad to look for a taxi to reach the camp and warn the rest of the guys that treachery was now a reality and we had to protect ourselves. The taxi driver demanded an extreme fee, as the place we wanted to go had become terrifying, filled with corpses and rubble, and defined by frightening darkness. We went to the camp and found chaos, with only the young men present. They recounted the most astonishing events. The weapons that we had celebrated on the day of betrayal had in fact been stripped of their firing pins. How many young men were killed facing a tank or a Humvee with a weapon that was nothing more than useless piece of metal!

We returned to the hospital and began to think of a way to escape Baghdad because we didn’t trust anyone around us. We knew that the Rawafidh were waiting for Baghdad to fall, as their animosity towards Saddam and the Sunnis was longstanding, dating back to Saddam’s execution of a prominent Shiite figure, the father of Muqtada al-Sadr, and his ban on the Ashura commemorations and the mourning rituals that the Rawafidh perform.

Here are several incidents that I record for history, so that we may know who was treacherous…

The first incident: Inside the hospital, some Iraqis began cursing us and demanding we leave their country because we had come to fight alongside Saddam and destroy their country. They were waiting for the American army to save them. I understood from some people that these were Shiites, as Iraqis know who is Sunni and who is Shiite, though I don’t know how... Perhaps by their features or general appearance?

The second incident: An Iraqi man came to us inside the hospital, warning that the Americans were paying money, dollars, to anyone who could identify the foreign volunteers. He said the price for each of us depended on our nationality–Saudis were the most expensive–and that several had been captured inside a hospital, which he named. He then described a way out through a tunnel inside Adnan Khayrallah Hospital, and he himself escaped through it. However, we were suspicious of him.

The third incident: I was looking from the thirteenth floor at the bridge over the river in front of the hospital when I saw something astonishing. People were walking across the bridge, and there were two tanks on the other side, opposite the hospital. Whenever someone approached them, they opened fire, and the people turned back. An old woman and some other women crossed–but the barbarians have no mercy. They opened fire, and the old woman fell, while the rest fled. A car tried to rescue her on the bridge, but they fired at it. It was a heartbreaking scene. We couldn’t do anything. Even those who raised white clothes as a sign of surrender were not spared by the bullets. And the strangest thing that I saw was the Iraqi tank next to the hospital. It hadn’t fired a single shot since it arrived, nor had anyone climbed into it….

The fourth incident: The situation intensified, and all eyes were on us as if waiting for the moment to pounce on their prey. We gathered near one of the Iraqi soldiers in our room (the ward). We asked him his opinion on the situation, but he began to cry, saying, “My leg has been amputated! I can’t believe that the Republican Guard deceived us and that it’s all over. Where are the aircraft? There must be a plan, as all the planes are underground. They will come out, and Saddam and the Amal will triumph.” The man seemed to have gone mad, raving and crying, unable to believe that the Apache helicopters he heard around the hospital were flying with complete freedom.

The final incident: I went down with the Tunisian brothers, three of them, and an Egyptian brother (the Syrian brother had left us, as he found an easier escape). We were looking for a car to get us out of Baghdad, unaware that the Americans were everywhere and approaching our district with no resistance. We found a small passenger van that stopped near us and the driver asked, “Do you want a taxi?” I said, “Yes.” He said, “For a small sum, $100, I can get you out safely to the outskirts of Baghdad.” The brothers rejoiced and agreed.

The “conductor” took out a paper with dozens of names and told me, “We got all of these people out safely, so hurry and get your things.” The van stopped at the hospital entrance, waiting for us. My heart was pounding, telling me, “These are traitors.” At the very last moment, as I was going to get our things, I noticed the van’s license plate: Karbala. My suspicion intensified, and I rushed to the brothers, saying, “We will not leave with him!” I told them he was likely Rafidhi and that we would be offered up as a sacrifice.

The brothers refused my decision and went against my wishes, telling me not to stay behind and that they would wait for me in the van. There was a wounded driver lying in a room near us. He was from my country [Sudan], so I went to him quickly to consult him and told him what had happened. He told me, “Don’t go. Anyone who tells you they can get you out of Baghdad now is a liar.” And he told me that he had been a truck driver for over ten years and knew Baghdad very well, and that he was driving in central Baghdad when a cluster bomb blast amputated his leg. He knew the city was now completely surrounded.

I made my decision and left my brothers, bidding them farewell as they insisted on leaving, with tears in our eyes during our goodbye. I was utterly certain they wouldn’t escape, but there was nothing I could do. I went back to the hospital to look for another way out…

Entry #7

11 October, 2025

On the morning of 12 April, military vehicles began patrolling some of Baghdad’s streets. I was shuttling between hospital rooms, searching for someone to help me safely escape. Those were agonizing moments. My will to fight had died, and I was suspicious of everyone around me. I reflected on my life and asked myself why these people were doing all this to their country, while we had left our homes so that the barbarians wouldn’t defile their land and turn them into slaves after their former glory. I learned the truth later–in those days, I still knew nothing about Iraq, Saddam, or the Ba’ath Party. And as they say, “The land punishes those who don’t know it.”

I found one of the wounded, a man from my country, in one of the rooms, and with him were the family of his Iraqi wife. After asking permission, I went in and told the man everything, explaining that I wanted to leave before they sold me to the Americans. He was an honorable man, and he asked his relative to take me in his car to the Embassy District. There, a friend of his worked as a guard at an embassy and had a basement where I could stay until I found a safe way out of Baghdad.

Fate, in its kindness and its mercy, was on my side. Our car pulled out onto one side of the road, while Humvees and troop carriers entered the same street from the other side. I looked, my heart breaking with sorrow. “O Baghdad, they betrayed you just as they betrayed us!” We went on until I reached that kind guard, and he welcomed me warmly, saying, “Don’t worry, you’ll be safe.”

That night, as darkness enveloped everything, I heard the rumble of tanks above us, sweeping the streets. The intermittent sound of shelling indicated that there was still resistance. I went out from the basement in the morning, hungry, but there was no food. I found only a small piece of hardened bread, about the size of three fingers. I asked the guard if I could eat it, and he allowed me, as if it were a pastry from the finest restaurants. Hunger drove many into the streets of Baghdad. I saw people in the Embassy District, breaking into shops to steal food.

One of them, passing by me, gestured, “Hey man, there’s everything in there, go before it runs out,” pointing to a supermarket packed with people. Despite my intense hunger, I refused to take anything because I didn’t know the ruling on eating that food. Then God provided for me in another way. A car driven by an elderly man passed by. I stopped him, and it was clear I was a foreigner and a fighter. They had learned how to distinguish us from others. He asked me, “Where are you from, my son?” Praise be to God, he was Sunni. We talked for a moment, and then he wept, his sobs intensifying as he said, “These people aren’t like us, they’re stealing everything–Iraq is lost!” Then the man offered to take me to my country’s embassy. I said, “Yes, take me. Perhaps I’ll find someone who understands and can help me.”

I arrived at the embassy and found women, children, and men waiting for something. As I entered the gate, no one even looked at me, as everyone was busy with their own issues. I felt like I was one of the locals. None of the staff were present except for some soldiers and an embassy officer who hadn’t left their posts to ensure the safe evacuation of expatriate citizens in Baghdad. They were members of the Arab Socialist Ba’ath Party, and they felt that it was their cause. The ambassador and the staff had left Baghdad after the very first shot, as reported to me by those who had been in the embassy. I made up a story for them: “I’m a student at Baghdad University, and all my papers were burned by a missile that hit my dorm.” One of them laughed and said, “We know everyone here, who is studying and who isn’t. I think you’re a fighter, but it’s alright, you will leave with the families, and we will forge a passport for you.” Relief washed over me.

I told him, “I have a bag that I forgot at Adnan Khayrallah Hospital.” The officer, confident in himself, said, “I’ll take you there to get it.” I realized that this officer didn’t understand these barbarians, nor the nature of the situation at the time.

I thought to myself, “Let’s go, since he’s so sure of himself.” We left immediately in the embassy car, and the officer placed his weapon beside him, telling me, “This is a diplomatic vehicle, they won’t bother us.” At the hospital entrance, we found a checkpoint with several Humvees and a tank. They signaled us to pull over. I was afraid that one of the Iraqis would recognize me, but the bag was very important, as it contained a will from my friend to his family. The barbarian soldiers approached our car and spotted the weapon. He sprang back and shouted, “Out! Out! Out!” Then all the soldiers surrounded us, shouting hysterically. We got out of the car and raised our hands, and that’s when they tried to handcuff us. The officer was angered and fought back, saying, “I’m an officer in the army, attached to the embassy. You won’t handcuff me.” I thought then, “They’re going to kill him!”

But, glory be to God, an Iraqi collaborator who was among them came and spoke to him in Arabic, saying, “Calm down!” Then he explained, “A short while ago, an American soldier went into the hospital bathrooms, and one of them stabbed him and fled. So the soldiers are scared, and they saw your weapon in the car. We apologize to you.” I let out a deep breath. The event passed safely, and we went and got the bag from inside the hospital where I had hidden it in the ceiling of the room.

Entry #8

12 October, 2025

Chaos reigned in all of Baghdad’s military camps. No leaders, no soldiers, no guards at the gates, and the Arab volunteers were without care, support, or weapons sufficient to repel the Crusader advance in the streets of Baghdad. Meanwhile, the Iraqi army had vanished, treacherous agents emerged, and hostile faces appeared everywhere, searching for us. In one of the neighborhoods, near Jaffa Street, eleven young men were sneaking around behind dark buildings, carrying out quick ambushes despite their limited equipment. They then returned to their small hideout, an abandoned bakery. An Iraqi resident noticed them and approached them, offering food, drink, and verbal support–“You and you!”–encouraging and supporting them.

The young men felt reassured, so they did not fear or change locations. And so, that night was the end of their heroism, for they were betrayed by that Shiite man–I later learned from his neighbors that he was a Rafidhi. He informed the barbarians about them, and a tank shell struck the bakery at midnight, destroying everything and burning the place with everyone in it. I came to the bakery to bear witness for history that they stood firm and were killed by the Rafidah’s treachery, whose stench filled the skies of Baghdad.

I searched the rooms and offices of the embassy for any passport that I could forge by placing my picture on it–passports at that time were primitive and easy to counterfeit. I couldn’t find any useful document. That officer from earlier came to me and said,

We will take you to the Yemeni embassy. There is an employee, a very brave man who defied his government’s orders to withdraw from Iraq. He stayed alone in the embassy to help the young volunteers. After news of the treachery spread, this Yemeni would take the embassy car and drive it through the streets and neighborhoods, gathering the young men who had lost everything, even food and drink, and shelter them inside the embassy building. Then he would procure for them Yemeni papers, as if they were Yemeni students and civilian nationals. And finally, he would hire a bus to take them to the border of Syria.

He kept repeating the same thing until we went to the Yemeni that night. It was pitch black, and the place was like something out of a horror film. We approached the Yemeni embassy, ​​and the officer who had brought me called out in a low voice, “So-and-so,” calling him by name. A young man in his thirties came out to us, looking left and right, and told him, “Get in quickly, the tanks might come soon, like last night.” They started talking, and my companion told him my story and that I wanted to escape. He apologized to us and said, “All the embassy paperwork has run out, but there are still dozens of young men inside. I don’t know what to do with them.”

And yet his final words were, “I will do my best, and after that, let Ali Abdullah Salih (the president of Yemen at the time) execute me.” A new day began in the tragedy of Baghdad. At dawn, I went out wandering with some expatriates from my country in the neighborhoods of Baghdad, as if I were a citizen. We went to Bab al-Sharqi, near the Green Zone, where the streets were teeming with Iraqis carrying looted goods from Saddam’s palace, ministry headquarters, and shops. I was waiting all this time for just one piece of news–that the buses departing in front of the embassy, carrying the families, had arrived.

The Arab Socialist Ba’ath Party was evacuating its members via the buses carrying expatriate families, claiming that they were nationals of countries unrelated to the war. The Crusaders allowed the families and their companions to leave on the buses only through coordination with their specific embassies. That is why, most of those who escaped did so, as far as I know, through my country’s embassy, ​​as well as through the Yemeni and Mauritanian embassies. And so I left, bidding Baghdad farewell with profound sorrow and conflicted joy–a feeling of one who has tasted the sweetness of fighting his enemy and the bitterness of his companion’s treachery. But such is life, the great school. I bid farewell to Baghdad with its burned streets, decomposing bodies, and shattered buildings. The curses of the Earth surround the Rafidah and traitors, for Baghdad has grown accustomed to the cunning of the Rawafidh and the naiveté of Baghdad’s rulers.

Entry #9

13 October, 2025

I was looking through the window at the ruins. Whenever I passed a city, I would ask those with me on the bus about it: Amiriyah, Fallujah, Ramadi, Baghdadi, Haditha, Hit, Al Qaim. There we stopped. There was a huge gathering of people–men, women, and children, thousands perhaps–from all nationalities, lying on the ground waiting for the border crossing between Al Qaim in Iraq and Albukamal in Syria to open. It was very difficult to distinguish the fighters from others. Some young men were trying to cross the border on foot, moving north from the city because the border here is just barbed wire between the two countries. Then, the farther north you went, the distance increased, becoming a gap that could reach a depth of three kilometers between the Iraqi barrier and the Syrian barrier. This is a free area with no guards.

Some young men succeeded in crossing, but it was difficult. I kept telling those around me that I was a student at the University of Baghdad, but after several hours I understood that these families were waiting for embassy officials from Damascus to come and complete their entry procedures into Syria. Some had been waiting here for several days to cross the border. Some Syrian soldiers were going around among the young men, enticing them with promises of easier passage if they had volunteered in the war. This, they said, was on the president’s orders. “The volunteers are heroes Syria needs,” they told the young men. That’s when I decided, along with some other young men, about nine of us, to tell them the truth and cross the border.

As we crossed, everyone hailed us like heroes. Then we passed through a narrow road outside the border crossing, and there we met a surprise: A troop transport vehicle filled with soldiers and their weapons. A new act of treachery unfolded, with everyone shouting in a way that made you feel your end was near: “Get in quickly! Get in quickly!” It was a trick to identify the fighters. The vehicle filled up with young men and moved towards the detention center.

I didn’t grasp what had happened until I found myself in a special prison housing only volunteers in the city of Dayr al-Zawr. There, they told us they would take us to a hotel and treat us with respect, as per the President’s instructions. A contradiction between words and deeds… We entered Damascus, and our fate there was an underground prison where Bashar’s regime had gathered all the Arab and non-Arab nationalities who had fought the barbarians and then left after the occupation. This is how they round up young men. It was the first time in my life I entered prison, but it was an experience that completely changed my perspective. They transferred us to the “Palestine Branch” prison–that’s what they call that desolate place. There, I met the young Pakistani man who had been with me at the beginning of the war and with whom I had parted ways on the day they separated us at al-Sadir Hotel in Baghdad.

He told me, with deep sorrow, what they had done to them. “We were used as human shields,” he said, “even the young Frenchman. They put him in the electricity building. God saved me until I reached the border.” I found a number of those who were with me on the day we entered Baghdad, and we shared stories. Then, suddenly, just two hours after I entered the Palestine Branch prison, I heard someone say, “Where are the so-and-so...?”–referring to our nationalities. We replied, “We are here.” There were four young men with me, also of my nationality. Later, I understood that each nationality contacted their embassy to come and take them, and then they were transferred to their country in a manner chosen by their respective embassies.

My country’s embassy was the quickest to arrive, or so the other detainees told me as I bid them farewell. We were handed over and then taken out in an embassy car, as there were only a handful of us. And so began a new chapter in my journey on the path of jihad.

Entry #10

3 December, 2025

The Hijra

Someone knocked on the apartment door. It was the sincere and high-spirited brother, Abu Ubaydah al-Muhajir. He sat before me, cross-legged on the floor, reminding me of God and pointing that the Herald [al-munadi] had raised his cry. So how, then, could I accept such a lowly and humiliating life? He kept at it until I answered him, driven by a yearning for Paradise and a fear of having to answer to God about my duty to support His Religion.

We agreed on a date for the hijra, and in coordination with one of the Iraqi brothers, we arranged everything. It was to be my first emigration in the path of God, far removed from the prying eyes of governments. This decision came after I had realized that, both according to sharia and through bitter experience, it was impermissible for me to fight alongside anyone who failed to uphold God’s sharia or who allied themselves with disbelievers. Indeed, my experience in Baghdad had nearly shattered my convictions and extinguished my resolve. And yet God sent me a glimmer of hope. Upon hearing of the events in the Iraqi town of Rawah, I realized that others had already preceded me on this path, one that stretched far ahead. “Come, O servant of God, to a Paradise as vast as the heavens and the earth, and shake off the dust of humiliation!”

This journey was fraught with danger. Syrian security forces deployed spies and exerted great effort to combat the hijra, but the smuggler was a man who knew what he was doing. We reached the border at dawn, the frozen dew covering the grass. A small, simple family awaited us three muhajirin, strangers at a crucial moment in our lives–the transition from a life of ease and comfort to the realm of manhood and dignity, a transition that made the heart pound with anticipation of what the coming hours held.

We ate a warm meal, and the motorcycles carried us deeper into Husaybah. We were met by the emir of one of the small groups, to whom we had been referred on the recommendation of the Iraqi brother I mentioned earlier. He gave us the choice of staying with them or going to Fallujah, where most muhajirin went. We chose Fallujah.

He told me that day that the man who would take us to Fallujah in his car was a brother wanted by the occupation forces, as he had caused them a major defeat. He had single-handedly killed four spies working for the occupation and seized their weapons and identification papers, which I saw myself on the day we went to him. I was overcome with a fear that I had never felt before. I had always expected training and preparation before any confrontation. Yet there was no other way, as any muhajir traveling this route had to pass through the town of Baghdadi, the “Iraqi Tel Aviv,” as the brothers called it. It was a place where the occupying army moved with complete impunity thanks to the cooperation of most of its inhabitants. This was no less dangerous than the days we had spent in Baghdad, but, placing our trust in God, we resolved to go.

“Shock and awe” in Baghdad on 19 March, 2003.

Despite its contributions to jihadism, Sudan doesn’t feature prominently in popular imagination of jihad. Most would name Afghanistan and perhaps Syria as the two major hubs, but Sudan has been a critical node of the global jihadist movement–indeed, of the Salafist International–for almost forty years. For instance, few know that the Umar al-Bashir regime (largely due to Hassan al-Turabi) officially hosted Usama bin Ladin and nascent Al Qaida as state guests for five years, during 1991-96. Even fewer know that there were Sudanese commanders and fighters in the two Battles of Fallujah, let alone throughout the Iraqi insurgency.

Consider the Sudanese jihadist, Hassan Abdul-Rahman, who joined the Zarqawists in Iraq.1 He was a regular poster on the Muntada al-Ansar jihadist forum, where he became a well-known fixture of the community. One day in November 2004, he disappeared. Then, in March 2005, another Sudanese user of the forum reported that Hassan had died in a suicide bombing in Iraq. In Hassan’s final moments:

Twelve minutes before the operation in Ba`quba, he called his family and explained his intentions. He told them that, in 15 minutes, news of his death would be delivered to them–and then he vanished in the cause of Allah… Twenty minutes later, another brother called his father to inform him of his son’s departure to meet the virgins of paradise.

In border villages in Pakistan, I’ve met several families whose sons “vanished” like Hassan. Most disappeared in Afghanistan and one in Kashmir. Hassan Abdul-Rahman was one of many Sudanese foreign fighters in Iraq, a surprising number of whom survived the entire insurgency to go on to fight in other jihadist theaters. One such case is Adnan Absi, the author of the present narrative.

Adnan Absi seems to have first appeared online some time last year but reached relative prominence in the fall, when he began to serialize his memoirs of the jihad in Iraq (the subject of this narrative) and later in Nigeria, under Boko Haram and then ISWAP (the subject of another narrative, also to be published in English here). Adnan’s relative openness with his past makes his claims somewhat suspicious–IS is notoriously paranoid about “leaks,” real or otherwise–but the precise details suggest he is telling the truth. I asked several veteran jihadist sources for their opinion of the narrative, and all told me that it is highly plausible. I’m also told that Adnan is not the only Sudanese jihadist who fought in both Iraq and Nigeria. There are even cohorts of (perhaps still living) veterans from Sudan who have had far more illustrious jihadist careers. But let’s return to Iraq.

Adnan Absi’s narrative has several fascinating details about the entry and welcome of foreign fighters into Iraq immediately prior to the war and during its earliest days. Inspired by jihadist propaganda, he took a flight from Sudan to Damascus in Syria, where he and other fighters then boarded a night bus to Baghdad. He mentions that Ansar al-Islam in Kurdistan was his intended destination at first. The Syrian buses had been departing for Iraq every day for a week prior to Adnan’s arrival in Syria. At the Iraq-Syria border post, the volunteers’ papers were stamped, each getting a number. Adnan’s number was in the 25,000 range, which he says was the number of foreign fighters who had entered Iraq via this route in the preceding weeks. Upon arriving in Baghdad, the volunteers were given rooms in the city’s largest hotel. The following morning, an Iraqi Army officer ordered non-Arab volunteers to go to the Palestine Hotel, while the Arab volunteers (like Adnan) stayed at the larger hotel. The fighters were given one last chance to leave Baghdad back for Damascus before they then began their training under Army auspices.

The whole account shows that there was a joint Iraqi-Syrian effort to invite and welcome foreign fighters on state-approved routes. Adnan expresses his shock at seeing buses full of fighters openly leave Damascus, driving on major highways and passing through the official border, where they were all welcomed. Incidentally, we know that Ahmad al-Shara’ (aka Abu Muhammad al-Julani) first entered Iraq on one of these buses. That the buses theoretically carried volunteers too scared to fight back to Damascus meant that it was two-way traffic, implying close coordination between the Iraqi and Syrian Ba’ath. It is even more notable that the buses stopped off at large hotels, which were expecting the volunteers, and that the Iraqi Army had established training facilities for them–or so it appeared.

In the main camp, Adnan met a Yemeni volunteer who raised the dilemma of fighting for the Ba’athist Army, thus potentially saving Saddam’s regime, or not fighting, thus letting the Coalition conquer Iraq. This question was being debated by jihadists all across Iraq, whether foreign fighters like the “Group of Knights”, or native Iraqis, like Abu Muhammad al-Salmani. Meanwhile, the Ba’athist Army viewed the volunteers as mere cannon fodder, as shown by multiple incidents where the Army abandoned foreign fighters to be attacked by Coalition forces. In Adnan’s case, he and a group of fighters were taken by bus from their camp to the Radwaniyah neighborhood of Baghdad, where the Army left them as bait for the Coalition. With several wounded, the group made their narrow escape then broke off to find their way back to the main camp. At one point, Adnan and another fighter were picked up by traffic police. During the lengthy ride, the officers tested both of them by playing a tape of Shiite chants to offend their jihadist sensibilities. The Army’s multi-sectarian character repeatedly clashed with the jihadists’ sectarian politics–Adnan’s disdain for Shiites is clear throughout. One gets a sense of precisely why the jihadists and the Ba’athists hated one another.

NOTE: Absi wrote the narrative over twenty-eight entries across many weeks. I have kept the original entry format, each with the original date of publication. The entries are lightly edited for clarity.

Entry #1

3 October, 2025

When I first heard the fatwas of Shaykh Usama (may God have mercy on him) and some of the scholars–may God free the imprisoned among them and have mercy on the slain–I had very little knowledge, so I took their words to mean that I should go and participate in repelling the Crusader aggressor alongside the Iraqi Army or others. At that time, I did not know the ruling regarding these armies.

In mid-March 2003, I set out from my country [Sudan] to Baghdad, passing through Syria, where I landed at Damascus Airport. No one knew me then. The group Ansar al-Islam was my goal and destination. However, one of my neighbors was Iraqi and knew me because I had consulted him about some matters. He wanted to help me, so unbeknownst to me, he informed his relative, who worked at the Iraqi embassy at the time, and gave him my full name and my flight time.

While in the airport hall, I was surprised to see a man wearing a suit calling my name. I thought not to respond, but there was no choice except to say, “I am here.” He welcomed me and said, “Come with me.” I followed him until we reached the desk of the official responsible for entry stamps. He took my passport, stamped it, returned it to me, and said, “Welcome, O fidayi! An official from the Iraqi embassy is with you. So-and-so informed us about you so we could receive you.” I do not know this so-and-so, but later I learned that he was the uncle of our Iraqi neighbor.

He took me in his car to the Iraqi embassy headquarters in Damascus. The surprise was that in front of me were three buses filled with young men [al-shabab] that would depart at midnight to Baghdad openly, just like that. Yes, everyone could see us.

They told me that these trips had been running daily for more than a week. At first, I was afraid because things weren’t going according to my plan, but later, when I saw young men from all nationalities and tongues, my enthusiasm and determination increased. I became eager to reach Baghdad, filled with resolve to fight the invading Crusaders.

The buses departed from Damascus, passing through Dayr al-Zawr and Albukamal. There, our entry was stamped and names were registered. I found myself carrying the number twenty-five thousand and some hundreds. This was the number of volunteers who had entered through this crossing before me. Glory be to God, my entry was twenty-one days before the occupation of Baghdad. Thus, we passed through the cities of Al Qaim, Hit, and Ramadi until we entered Baghdad at midnight on 20 March, 2003.

Our accommodation was a hotel, the largest hotel in Baghdad, which had become a guesthouse for volunteers. They called us “the Arab volunteers,” despite the presence of non-Arabs among us. Unfortunately, in this hotel the Arabs were separated, and the non-Arabs were taken to the Palestine Hotel on their own. The reason will be explained in the next article.

I deliberately chose to recount this beginning, for history repeats itself, and its lessons must be documented.

Entry #2

5 October, 2025

We were waiting for dinner after a long journey from Damascus to Baghdad. There were nearly three thousand of us in the al-Sadir Hotel. Suddenly, an American cruise missile struck nearby, the glass of the ground-floor halls of the hotel shattered, and chaos and panic broke out, with people fleeing in all directions. I think no one remained in the hall except a handful. Then I heard an Iraqi army officer shouting at us in front of the hotel gate, to which we had run in panic: “Where are you fleeing? And why did you even come here?” So we all stepped back and returned inside the hotel halls in embarrassment, and everyone began to understand that is a real war. A war of annihilation: terrifying missiles, cluster bombs, and spies on the ground.

The next morning, an officer with the rank of Major in the Iraqi army called out, “Everyone who does not belong to an Arab country, come here.” Some guys [al-shabab] of different nationalities gathered: Afghans, Pakistanis, Chechens, and one young man of French origin and nationality. (I had befriended him on the way because he found no one who spoke French besides me. This young man had converted to Islam two years ago, as he told me, and came here out of zeal for the lands of the Muslims.) The officer told them after they gathered that they would be transferred to the Palestine Hotel, as the foreigners’ headquarters was located there. Everyone was saddened by this decision, and we tried to talk to the officer, but he said this is an order from higher authorities.

When the war intensified, these young men were placed in sensitive areas as human shields so that a confrontation would occur between the Americans and their countries, considering them to be targeted as foreign nationals. One of the Pakistanis who was with us that night told me this when we met after the Fall of Baghdad.

The Crusader Coalition army was fighting on the ground in the town of Umm Qasr for more than ten days. Due to the ferocity of the resistance, it was unable to pass the area towards the borders of Basra. Notably, and contrary to expectations, Arab volunteer commanders distinguished themselves in these battles, despite operating under conditions of only limited operational freedom.

When we entered the training camp, they halted us in a very large courtyard. The crowd was massive, and lined up alongside the courtyard were buses just like the ones we had arrived in from Damascus. A man among us shouted over a loudspeaker, “We are about to begin. However, before we do, anyone who wishes to return to Damascus–anyone who feels they are not ready to continue this journey–should proceed to those buses. We won’t blame you, and you will simply return from where you came.” I was astonished to see hundreds of people heading toward the buses. Standing beside me was a friend with whom I had arrived. He placed his hand over my eyes and said to me, “Don’t look! Stand firm, for this is a test, so have no fear.” Indeed, I was left utterly bewildered as I watched the vast majority of those who had come with us turn back.

Entry #3

6 October, 2025

Training began with the digging of trenches, and with each passing day, I began to grasp the true nature of warfare. The army of the Crusader Coalition was attempting to enter Iraq through the border town of Umm Qasr, located on the border with Kuwait. It was a violent ground offensive, accompanied by intense air support and missile strikes launched from battleships. It was a war waged across land, sea, and air. On the surface, the plan appeared to be a sweeping ground advance aimed at reaching Baghdad, but in reality, it was a full-fledged conspiracy orchestrated by the Shiites and treacherous collaborators.

When we entered the camp housing, they gathered us and said, “The army command had previously agreed with the Arab volunteers that their leadership would come from among them. Every fifty people will have a leader they choose from among themselves based on experience, so form your groups and choose your leaders so that you can be sent to the front lines.”

We formed the groups, and in my group there was a student of Islamic law from Yemen who had studied at al-Iman University. He would often sit with me and say, “If Saddam triumphs, these Iraqis will worship him, but if America triumphs, the Crusaders will rule our lands. We have fallen into a true mess: Should we fight?” His words made me notice things I had not seen until then–statues of Saddam everywhere, his sayings and aphorisms written in the streets, schools, and hospitals, on every wall.

Cluster bombs fell on people’s heads without mercy whenever B52s bombed a camp. Our situation in Baghdad in those days was nothing but bombardment and the realm of death. News spread about the arrest of a spy who collaborated with the Coalition in the bombing. Betrayal was everywhere, the Shiites were utterly euphoric, but within the army’s ranks, one could not distinguish a Sunni from a Shiite. There were no ground battles in Baghdad, as the Coalition was still far from it–until the day of the great betrayal came and the true plan of the Crusaders was revealed.

A flanking maneuver was executed against the defenses, and troop carriers, tanks, and other vehicles deployed west of Baghdad, along the route leading to the area known as Radwaniyah. All the defenses were withdrawn, and [Ba’athist] soldiers took off their army uniforms and left the tanks behind with no one there, allowing entry into Baghdad Airport and the seizure of control. There was no one at the entrances of the bridges except the special Republican Guard and the Saddam Fedayeen, young men no older than twenty.

My friend and I used to lecture the guys at the camp about the threat posed by the Shiites, not realizing that the majority of the very army we served alongside was, in fact, Shiite. Then came that day, one that I will never forget. A military vehicle rushed into the camp’s courtyard (the camp was a school at the time), and the officer began shouting, “We need volunteers for reconnaissance! There’s news of the Americans arriving at al-Muthanna Bridge!”

My friend, who often warned us about the Shiites, and I along with others, stood up. They told us only three were needed, as these were the new instructions replacing the old group formations. Each vehicle now carried three [foreign] Arabs and seven from the Iraqi Army. They took my friend, who was well-trained, along with a Syrian and a Tunisian for reconnaissance. This was the first act of betrayal against our camp.

The military vehicle went to al-Muthanna Bridge, and on the way, the soldiers argued with my friend, saying, “You slander Shiites at night, and now we will kill you before the Americans do!” This is what the Syrian brother, who survived death that day, later told me.

Entry #4

6 October, 2025

The cold was so intense that some of the guys and I performed Tayammum for the Fajr prayer. On the day of betrayal, after Fajr, weapons were distributed, and the warehouse was filled with weapons: PKMs, Kalashnikovs, and RPG-7s. Joy and a feeling of strength overcame us, as we longed to fight the invaders, thinking we were descendants of the Companions, just waiting for the encounter!!

Kadhim al-Sahir’s songs were playing from the soldiers’ cars, increasing their enthusiasm. At the time, I did not know that Kadhim al-Sahir, the Iraqi artist, was Rafidhi [derogatory for Shiite]. Some of the guys and I were uncomfortable hearing these songs and advised them that it was time for repentance and the Quran. We dreamed of a jihad that would restore the glory of Islam to Iraq–restore Baghdad al-Rashid.

On the day of betrayal, the officer came speaking with great enthusiasm and reminding us of martyrdom and victory. In my confusion, I remembered the words of my father, may God have mercy on him, “My son, I will not stand between you and God, but you must have knowledge to understand the truth.” So I said to him, “Father, I want martyrdom.”

I return to that fateful afternoon when my companion bid me farewell, along with the Syrian and the Tunisian. Their car left the camp while the officer reassured us: “They will return soon with good news.”

After Maghrib, a call led us to gather, then we were divided into two groups. I was in the group that went to the Radwaniyah area (they did not inform us of our route) on special buses. The buses stopped at a place we did not know, and they ordered us to walk on the sidewalks. After about five hours, we arrived at an intersection with burned trees. They told us: “You will be a rear defense line here, and the orders are not to fire a bullet without instructions, no matter what happens.”

During our walk on foot, I saw a cannon aimed at the sky at an angle, with a mattress next to it and no one stood there. I asked the person in charge nearby, “Why is there no one here using it?” He replied calmly, “Do not worry, someone will come.” This scene was repeated: cannons in firing position, with those manning them having seemingly deserted.

After Fajr, I found near one of the cannons water, dates, and a very large amount of ammunition. I asked about this gun, and they told me it was anti-aircraft. At that time, I did not know how to use any weapon except the Kalashnikov in a very basic way, but it was my inner self that was truly fighting. We then reached an intersection of two streets, and we did not know the terrain of the area until the sun rose. Then we discovered that we had crossed a bridge over the Euphrates River, and that of all of us young fighter–no more than forty in total–not one was Iraqi. The officers placed us here and withdrew in the darkness.

Before we could understand what happened, we suddenly heard a humming, like something from the depths of the Earth, perhaps an earthquake or a volcano. Then one of us shouted, “Look to the west!” There was dense dust, you couldn’t see past it. The sound settled for a moment, then the dust cleared, and we saw military vehicles stretching as far as the eye could see, the most prominent being tanks. We then began arguing among ourselves–some said this was the Iraqi army, and another said, “Brothers, they are the Crusader infidels!” And so we argued and looked for the Iraqi Major, the commander of the mobile unit, but found no trace of him around us.

At that moment, I felt true terror. “What is this?” It felt like a dream. Could it be that they had placed us as bait for the Americans!?

The vehicles advanced while we watched, hoping our eyes were deceiving us. But the symbol of the Cross on the front of the tank became clear, and that meant only one thing: treachery and betrayal. The vehicles were heading directly towards us, as we were in their path to the bridge to enter Baghdad from the western side. One of the guys, who was Libyan, shouted, “Fire at them!” But a shell from one of the tanks struck toward us first. Our gunfire did not stop until all our ammunition was exhausted. Silence filled the place, and the tanks, Humvees, and troop carriers stopped for about half an hour. At that time, we tried to withdraw, and among us were four wounded. If we climbed the bridge, we would be under their fire, and they knew we were still alive. We tried to cross the river, but we quickly returned, all of us surrendering to fate beneath the bridge, as none of us knew how to swim.

Radwaniyah is one of the neighborhoods of Baghdad, located on the side of al-Karkh, west of Baghdad. It includes one of the palaces of the former Iraqi President Saddam Husayn under the name of al-Raya Palace and was considered the main headquarters for the residence of Saddam and his family. The neighborhood is considered one of the closest areas to Baghdad International Airport. Due to its location, it is also among the first neighborhoods entered by American forces during the invasion of Iraq in 2003.

Clarifications
These are matters I need to discuss so that the facts are clear to those who did not witness that great event or perhaps were not interested in the events at the time:

• The Crusader assault–by land, sea, and air–involved many Arab countries (Kuwait, Saudi Arabia, Jordan, Qatar, and Bahrain), which together facilitated the mission of the Coalition forces.

• Saddam Husayn’s deputy was a Christian, and the Ministers of Defense, Interior, and Information were Rawafidh [plural of Rafidhi].

• Allegiance was to the Arab Socialist Ba’ath Party.

• Like all Arab governments during times of crisis, religious slogans were announced. Saddam’s speeches began to cite the Sunnah and the Quran to claim that everyone killed is a martyr.

• Due to the absence of a nearby special airbase, the Crusader Coalition had to use the costly B52 aircraft, so sorties were few and violent, dropping cluster bombs. Now aircraft take off freely from Qatar.

• Syria stood officially beside the Iraqi army and opened its borders to anyone who wanted to fight, but it did not participate with its own army.

• Jordan used to receive free Iraqi oil before the war, yet the largest incursion into Iraq was through the Jordanian border.

• Many Iraqi brothers told me that it is rare for a young man over the age of eighteen to not know how to use weapons. It’s fair to say that most Iraqi youth were militarily ready to fight.

• The proportions of Sunnis to Shiites in Iraq, as the people of Anbar said at that time, are as follows:

  • Baghdad: 60% Sunni

  • Basra: 50% Sunni

  • Anbar: 100% Sunni

  • Karbala and Najaf: 100% Shiite

  • The Kurds are counted among the Sunnis, as they are an ethnicity, not a creed

• Iraqi warplanes were not used in the war.

Entry #5

8 October, 2025

Military vehicles arrived within just a few meters of us and stopped at the intersection of the bridge with the road to Radwaniyah. Everyone stopped moving, there was nothing but silence... The infidels thought we were dead and did not search for our bodies, as their target was more important than some small group that they likely didn’t even know about. Their target was Baghdad Airport to the north, so they passed the bridge. We waited until the vehicles were far enough away from us, then we snuck up with our wounded and crossed the bridge towards Baghdad.

When crossing the bridge, I caught a glimpse of soldiers from the Iraqi Army behind the trees across the river. I thought about firing at them for their naked and shameless treachery. But I hesitated for a bit, and then each of us haphazardly went his way. Some entered the trees, others returned to the army, and I, along with one of the guys, walked along the side of the main paved road. Then I spotted a civilian pickup truck coming from the middle of Baghdad towards the bridge. Then the driver realized what was happening, so he turned around in a daring manner to head back. I ran and jumped into the back of the truck, as did the one right beside me. Glory be to God, the driver paid no attention to us and sped away from the area. One of those who rode with me began shouting, “O Ali, O Husayn,” so I punched him and told him, “Say, ‘O God!’”

We entered central Baghdad, and no one knew anything about me. We were not wearing military uniforms because we had refused to wear army attire, so our clothes were our own personal outfits. We usually didn’t leave the camps, but that day I was walking through the streets of Baghdad. The foreign Arab young man and I wanted to return to the camp, as we were exhausted from wandering and did not know anyone or where to go, with helicopters everywhere. Panic and fear spread among the people due to the news of American forces entering the Radwaniyah area.

I approached a traffic police car and asked the policeman to direct me to the camp I had been in. He asked me about the area, and I told him I did not know its name. Three soldiers gathered and whispered among themselves, then one of them came and said to me, “Get in this car.” We got in, and I could hardly hide my fear of them. The police car was driving us through the streets while I described the landmarks of the camp and some surrounding areas to him. The soldier recognized the place but deliberately did something strange–he turned on the tape player, and the voice of a chanter began, saying, “How astonishing [‘ajiban], on Ali, on the Greatest [‘ala Ali, ‘ala Akbar]...” and polytheist words that made Ali (may God be pleased with him) a deity alongside God–Exalted is God above what they say.

I looked at my companion and we remained silent as if we heard nothing. The driver kept driving us around in the car for more than an hour, then he took us to the camp. Then I was absolutely certain that he wanted to test us regarding what we had heard, because the camp was in fact only fifteen minutes away from where we had set off.

We entered the camp, and there were only a handful of guys there. Where were the rest?! The brothers gathered, and each told of betrayal. Sixty were killed treacherously by unknown fire from the rooftops on Haifa Street before they could confront the invaders. Four survived and brought the news. I found one of the soldiers in a room talking about their heroism in the Radwaniyah area, saying, “And we repelled the enemy,” but when he saw me, he fell silent. He then came toward me, took me outside the room and said, “Do not tell them what happened. These are orders.” It was a clear threat.

At that moment, my companion collapsed and began to vomit. Within an hour his condition worsened, so they allowed us to leave for the hospital. I accompanied him, as otherwise leaving was forbidden.

Upon entering the Adnan Khayrallah Hospital overlooking the Tigris River, I found a surprise at the elevator door: the Syrian brother who went with my friend to al-Muthanna Bridge for reconnaissance on the night of the betrayal.

When our eyes met, he embraced me and began to weep bitterly, telling me, “Your friend so-and-so was killed, and the Tunisian is in an operation now, he was critically wounded. They betrayed us! They betrayed us!!”

After the Gulf War, during the mid-1990s, the Iraqi Ba’athist government launched the “Faith Campaign,” an ideological and political movement meant to co-opt and control growing religious fervor and Islamist leanings among Iraqis of all sects and ethnicities. In an attempt to link the Ba’ath with Islamic State, some falsely claim that the Faith Campaign sponsored or protected Wahhabism. In reality, the ideology of the campaign was a very bizarre ecumenical version of Islam that fused Sunni and Shiite theology to sanctify the Iraqi Ba’ath and especially Saddam Husayn. To any reasonably devout or religious informed Muslim (of either sect), the Campaign would come off as heresy at best and apostasy at worst. Its function was to shore up the legitimacy of the state.1

During this period, the Ba’athist intelligence services created a new division dedicated to monitoring and suppressing Wahhabis despite their fringe presence in Iraqi society. This involved close surveillance on all individuals of note among Sunni Iraqis. Such surveillance naturally created many documents, and one of those documents is preserved in the archived version of Imara wa Tijara, Nibras Kazimi’s Arabic blog. The document is plainly titled, “Tribal Shaykhs, Clan Leaders, Social Figures, and Religious Figures in Anbar Province.” It runs nearly 100 pages long and is a very comprehensive list of every individual in the stated categories. The document is divided by settlement in Anbar (e.g., Hit or Fallujah). It begins with a lengthy list of tribal authorities, then eventually (on page 56 of the pdf) pivots to brief profiles of notable figures. The profiles capture the individual’s key biographical information, social standing, and opinion of the Ba’athist regime. For instance, the first entry on page 57 reads:

Abdul-Malik Abdul-Rahman As’ad al-Sa’adi

• Imam and preacher of the Grand Mosque of Ramadi, Doctorate in Islamic Law.

• In 1963, he was arrested by the National Guard in Fallujah and released. In 1979, he was arrested by the National Guard (Case No. 32) and released due to insufficient evidence against him. Information indicates that he is affiliated with the Muslim Brotherhood. He is influential in social and religious circles.

• His stance towards the party and the revolution is favorable.

• He was honored by a meeting with and recognition from the President and Leader (may God protect and preserve him)2 on 22 May, 1991.

Due to time constraints, the document will not be translated into English. Still, for those who can read Arabic (or are willing to read it through auto-translate), the document is a fascinating look into both Anbari tribal society and Ba’athist intelligence during the 1990s.

Anbarnotables

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Below is a non-exhaustive list of resources that I have found most useful in understanding the Iraqi Insurgency. I have included my own investigations into this subject. I will continue to expand on this list as I find more resources, especially primary sources, and as I write more pieces on Iraq. As of writing on 28 February, we still have to examine the Sunni insurgency in 2007–and we have yet to study the Shiite insurgency.

Professional Research

The Sunni Insurgency

In 2007, the US Military commissioned an internal study of the Sunni Iraqi insurgency, particularly in Anbar, where the insurgency was most intense. This study focused on the 2003-07 period. It remains the best in-depth analysis of the Islamic State movement (aka the Zarqawists) ever written. I return to this reference time and again, and am always amazed by nuggets of informations strewn throughout, as recently when I realized the Study identified the Salafist International. The chapters are linked from the official CENTCOM archive of declassified Iraq files.

The Study of the Insurgency in Anbar Province, Iraq - CENTCOM (2007)

• Introduction & Ch. 1: “Background: Rise of Modern Iraq: Pre-1929 to 1991”

• Ch. 2: “Iraq and Anbar Between the Wars: Desert Shield to OIF (1990-2003)”

• Ch. 3: “Anbar Insurgency: The Seeds are Planted – The Formation and Motivating Factors (2003)”

• Ch. 4: “The Insurgency Grows and Fights Pitched Battles (2004)”

• Ch. 5: “Anbar: Insurgency Grows, Strengthens, Elections (2005)”

• Ch. 6: “AQI Dominates the Insurgency (2006)”

• Ch. 7: “Rise of the Anbar Salvation Front (2007)”

• Appendices

• “Insurgent Groups in al-Anbar”

The Shiite Insurgency

In 2007, the leader of the IRGC-backed “special groups,” Qays al-Khazali, was arrested by British troops. Khazali would be interrogated by Coalition forces over the next three years until his release in 2010. During that time, his interrogations were compiled into over 80 different “tactical interrogation reports,” which together provide a fascinating look deep inside the Shiite insurgency. In 2018, the reports were declassified and published in full by American Enterprise Institute. Khazali’s interrogations are the bedrock reference for any serious analysis of Shiite militancy during the Iraq War. Such an analysis will be my next major writing project once I complete my study of the Sunni Insurgency.

The Qays al-Khazali Papers

The Sahawat

In September 2006, a tribal shaykh named Sattar Abu Risha announced the “Awakening,” or Sahwa, of Sunni tribes in Ramadi, thus commencing what would transform into a pan-Sunni Iraqi tribal rebellion against the Zarqawists. The Sahawat nearly extinguished the jihadist insurgency in Iraq and acted as perhaps the most effective pro-Coalition force within Iraqi politics. It is worth studying for these reasons alone, but there is another. The Sahawat represents a particularly strategy of American counter-insurgency, whereby gangster or warlordist elements (often insurgents themselves) are patronized by American militarism to undermine the insurgency. Each of these warlords are individually too weak to fight the insurgents–precisely because of their warlord character–but together they pose an existential threat because they tap into the insurgent social base. The Sahawat functions by carrot and stick. The carrot is the opportunity for personal enrichment and petty fiefdoms. The stick is the might of American military power as informed by local intelligence. Herein lay its existential weakness: Each member of the Sahawat can be picked off without alarming the broader movement, which is too narrowly focused on their own patronage networks. Thus, clever insurgents can steadily erode the Sahawat–as the Zarqawists, in fact, did during the 2009-13 period–until a point that it can be swept away with little effort, as occurred in 2014. This strategy has been used all over the Muslim world, from the so-called Alliance for the Restoration of Peace and Counter-Terrorism in Somalia to the Arbaki in Afghanistan and now the Abu Shabab gang in Gaza.

1. Malkasian:

   1. Illusions of Victory: The Anbar Awakening and the Rise of the Islamic State Carter - Malkasian

   2. “A Thin Blue Line in the Sand: Iraqization is a dead-end strategy,” Democracy Journal, Summer 2007

2. Austin Long, “The Anbar Awakening,” Survival: Global Politics and Strategy 50 no. 2, March 2008

3. Patricio Asfura-Heim, “No Security Without Us: Tribes and Tribalism in Al Anbar Province, Iraq,” DTIC, June 2014

4. “The Civil Wars of Iraq’s Sunni Tribes: Fault Lines within 8 Sunni tribes and Sub-tribes, 2003-2016,” 1001 Iraqi Thoughts, March 2016

My Research

The Story of the Iraqi Insurgency

A chronological history of the insurgency from its beginning until its near-defeat in the late 2000s. Currently, we have just reached the end of 2006 in the insurgency, but we will continue the story soon. My research is published in shorter pieces on this page before being compiled, revised, and published on Cosmonaut Magazine. The pieces below were initially posted here but underwent considerable revision and refinement. The Cosmonaut versions are, therefore, the best (though the first part requires additional revision). To my knowledge, this is the first Marxist history of the Iraqi Insurgency and perhaps of any jihadist movement. I won’t take too much credit because this research is based heavily on CENTCOM’s Study of the Insurgency in Anbar Province listed above. I therefore consider it a companion to that study.

1. Monotheism and Struggle (2003-04)

2. Black Banners on the Two Rivers (2005)

3. The Cradle of Civilization on Fire (Jan-May 2006)

4. Incapable of Military Defeat (May-August 2006)

5. Anbar Awakes (August-September 2006)

6. The State Is Declared (October-December 2006)

7. Final Tranche (2007): Forthcoming

Primary Sources and Meta-Analysis

A number of essential Islamic State primary sources, particularly biographies of key figures and narratives of key events. Each source has an introduction where I analyze what I consider to be the most important points. I urge readers to go in with a critical eye and watch out for threads that I may have missed or misunderstood.

1. From the Biographies of the Distinguished Martyrs

2. Battle of the Confederates Under Siege

3. The Crusader Invasion of Iraq

4. “Lions of the Ansar in the Land of Two Rivers,” Part 1

5. “Lions of the Ansar in the Land of Two Rivers,” Part 2

6. Forthcoming:

   1. Biography of Abu Hamza al-Muhajir

   2. Memoirs of a Mujahid by Abu Hafs al-Iraqi

   3. Selections: Hidden Important Figures of Iraq

A comprehensive two-part analysis that ties together key threads revealed in the above sources.

1. “Social Networks of the Early Iraqi Jihad,” Part 1

2. “Social Networks of the Early Iraqi Jihad,” Part 2

Miscellaneous material.

1. “Cables from Anbar, c. 2006-07”

2. “Iraqis Fleeing Samarra Say Extremists Control City by Haidar Najem”

3. “Umar Baziyani: An Early Zarqawist Turncoat”

Islamic State of Iraq fighters conduct heavy weapons training in the countryside of Diyala

Western Anbar Awakes

On 26 November, Shaykh Hikmat Jubayir al-Gaoud was nominated by tribal leadership as the mayor of Hit, thus restoring municipal government for the first time since August 2006. This marked the Sahawat’s expansion into the western regions of Anbar. Shaykh Hikmat belonged to the Albu Nimr tribe, which was among the original five founding tribes of the Sahawat and was distinguished by its not being native to the Ramadi area. His mayorship facilitated the Albu Nimr’s coordination with Iraqi security forces against ISI. The Sahwa movement made significant advances throughout that week:

The Anbar Revolutionaries also expanded its anti-AQI activities to encompass Husaybah, Sharqiyah, Amariyah, and Ferris Town. Forming an alliance with the pro-Coalition subtribes of the Albu Issa, the Anbar Revolutionaries sought to resolve local tribal disputes in order to prevent AQI from gaining a foothold in the area. This led to the November 24 decision by the pro-Coalition Albu Issa subtribes (Albu Harimat, al-Manasir, Albu Dahir, Albu Ghrati, and Albu Jassim) to join the SAA, though anti-Coalition Albu Issa subtribes such as the Fuhaylats continued to support AQI. (222)

Amariyah was particularly receptive to the Sahawat due to its deep hostility to the Zarqawists, who had waged a brutal campaign of terror in the town for months. This campaign had heavily suppressed the local Iraqi Islamic Party (IIP) branch. The Sahawat provided sorely needed relief:

The pro-Coalition Albu Issa subtribes in the area were supported by a small force of civilian guards who were members of the IIP militia (see Chapter 6b) and supported by local IIP leader Ali Farhan Ramadan. By paying 500,000-750,000 dinars ($330-500) a month to members of the IIP militia, Ali Farhan was able to dissuade them from joining AQI and convince them to carry out joint operations with the local Iraqi police. Using additional money funneled by the IIP to the Albu Issa subtribes, Ali Farhan was able to coordinate with Iraqi police in Amariyah and Ferris Town in order to provide a greater degree of security to the area. (222)

The Albu Issa’s support for the Sahawat was cemented by Shaykh Khamis Hasnawi’s new membership in Sahwaji leadership. His aim was to expand the Sahawat’s presence beyond the Ramadi-Saqlawiyah corridor. This effort began with the formation of two tribal militias in Amariyah and Ferris Town to support the local police and IIP militias. Interestingly, one could observe class differences in tribal support or opposition to the Sahawat: “Yet it was primarily the wealthier subtribes in Amariyah and Ferris Town that supported Sheikh Kamis and the Revolutionary Council; many of poorer rural subtribes such as the Fuhaylats and Owesats remained hotbeds of support for AQI.” (223) Wealthier tribes could more easily integrate into the post-2003 political order on favorable terms than their poorer counterparts. The latter therefore had little material incentive to recognize the legitimacy of the new Iraq. For similar reasons, opportunistic elements of ISI, such as prominent ex-officers like Major General Khaddam Muhammed Farris al-Fahdawi, were beginning to consider defecting to the Sahawat. The relatively more plebeian character of the jihadists was another sign that they had taken over the Iraqi national liberation movement.

The Jihadists Take Initiative

ISI’s Reorganization Efforts

On 14 November, ISI co-leader Abu Hamza al-Muhajir (redacted in the Study) went to Ramadi to meet with the emirs of Ramadi and Salahuddin to strategize a comprehensive new response to the Sahawat. He “made the destruction of the SAA and any other organization that opposed AQI as the group's top priority in Anbar, ordering [REDACTED] to send fighters and suicide bombers from Salahaddin to Anbar and to increase the number of attacks against the Coalition in Salahaddin to draw their attention away from Anbar.” (224) This meeting prompted leadership meetings across Anbar, beginning in Ramadi.

Here, the local emir sent personal messages to Albu Soda tribal leaders, threatening them to abandon their checkpoints in the Sufia districts or face assassinations and even chemical and biological weapons attacks. The outlandishness of this latter threat hardened the Albu Soda’s resolve, encouraging them to reinforce their checkpoints. The severe depletion of veteran leadership in Ramadi led ISI to promote individual cell leaders to emir positions to fill the gaps. Meanwhile, in Fallujah, the local ISI leadership met at the highly fortified La’min Laboratory to discuss new operations, with debate specifically over the quality of ongoing attacks on Coalition forces. ISI provincial and national leadership also met in Haditha and Rawah, where they emphasized the need for precision in attacks to avoid civilian casualties, thus reducing popular animosity to the jihadists. The “State” also reshuffled leadership positions:

A major element of AQI reorganization was the internal rotating of amirs. For instance, in early November 2006, Sheikh Abu Dawud, who had finally emerged as the amir of the Fallujah-Khalidiyah-Saddamiyah corridor was rotated to Habbaniyah and replaced by [REDACTED] due to the fact that he had become too well-known in Fallujah. As the leader of the force of up to 300 fighters, Sheikh Abu Dawud's position was highly sought after within AQI. (225)

Around this time, ISI revised its recruitment methods to be more rigorous. Professional recruiters targeted impoverished young men who would be susceptible to material incentives. Unlike before, recruitment now avoided any coercion or threats of violence to ensure that recruits would be actively loyal to ISI. Individual fighters also recruited their friends. Then:

After prospective recruits had pledged to join AQI and sworn bayat, they were invited to their recruiter's home, shown video propaganda, and told that they would be given $1,000 for every successful videotaped attack. The recruiter stressed the financial incentives for working for AQI. After that, the recruit was taken to a safe house or training camp and tutored in the construction of IEDs starting with most basic (command-detonated artillery rounds) and working up to the most complex (base station IEDs). Accompanying the IED training was an intense ideological indoctrination that the Iraqi police were the greatest threat to AQI because they were able to identify the insurgency in a way that the Coalition could not. During this tutoring process, recruits were screened for intelligence and loyalty to the organization, with the top 4-5 recruits taken into the desert to be trained as snipers. (225)

As part of its “hearts and minds” campaign, ISI redeployed foreign fighters from Fallujah to the Zaidon area. This was precipitated by the elimination of nineteen ISI operatives and a threat issued by city residents that fighters had to renounce the “State” or be killed. The foreign fighters had been particularly active in ISI’s campaign against the local 1920 Revolution Brigades, making their presence an object of special resentment. ISI leadership hoped that their absence would relieve tensions. In the Zaidon area itself, ISI capitalized on the local unpopularity of the Sahawat by doubling recruitment and propaganda efforts. The ISI emir in charge was an especially fanatical jihadist, who had eagerly sought to implement sharia since the declaration of the “State.” Thus: “Residents who smoked cigarettes had their fingers cut off, while those that wore improper clothing or beards were killed.” (226) Unsurprisingly, ISI demoted this leader and ordered him to strictly focus on recruitment. The “State” soon established a robust base of operations in Zaidon:

Ta'alia village also served as an AQI node, deliberately cordoned off by more than 150 fighters so that it could serve as a broadcast site for al-Zawraa satellite television (see below). Al-Anaz village, by contrast, served as the headquarters of [REDACTED] and was referred to [REDACTED] as by residents, in reference to the large numbers of foreign fighters in the area. Because the Coalition was absent from the Zaidon area, AQI and its allies had a protected zone from which to conduct attacks against Coalition forces in Fallujah and then fall back to regroup. In Saqlawiyah, local AQI leaders [REDACTED] began actively pooling their efforts to coordinate attacks in Saqlawiyah in general, and along the Japanese Bridge northeast of Habbaniyah in particular. As the primary means of AQI access in and out of the Albu Shijil tribal area, the Japanese Bridge was a center of AQI activity, as its fighters killed Iraqi police officers and threw their bodies from the Bridge into the Thar Thar Canal. (226)

In late November, the local Albu Alwan tribe became the main target of jihadist operations. This was precipitated by the establishment of the al-Warar police station, which had provided key local support to Coalition operations earlier that month. ISI therefore had two aims in targeting the Albu Alwan: first, to exact revenge for its pro-police station; and second, to halt its growing alignment with the Sahawat. ISI was joined in this effort by Ansar al-Sunnah, which had a somewhat personal stake in the conflict. Ansar’s Ramadi membership was overwhelmingly comprised of Albu Alwan tribesmen, so the tribe’s allegiance to the Sahawat directly threatened the group’s recruitment pool. They soon threatened to kill the Albu Alwan leadership if the al-Warar station was not closed. When it wasn’t, Ansar al-Sunnah began to attack these leaders and their family members.

Ansar al-Sunnah’s Reorganization Efforts

Ansar’s participation in the anti-Albu Alwan campaign came amidst its own province-wide reorganization efforts. In early December, following the arrests of major leaders, Ansar al-Sunnah reshuffled its leadership structure to create a more decentralized organization. The fighters were divided into several battalions, each commanded by an emir, who answered to the “emir of the brigades,” who in turn answered only to supreme leader. Previously, Ansar was a “multi-tiered pyramidal organization with each element of the group answerable directly to the senior leadership.” (228) It was no small task to reorganize the movement’s operational structure and chain of command, especially amidst the brutal insurgency against the Coalition. The combined weight of this work temporarily weakened Ansar al-Sunnah’s operational footprint in the Ramadi-Haditha corridor. The group also suffered confused relations with ISI:

In Anbar, many Ansar al-Sunna cells regularly shared resources such as weapons caches and VBIED factories with their AQI counterparts, particularly in Ramadi, Haditha, and Hit areas. While this cooperation benefited both organizations, it now represented a vulnerability for Ansar al-Sunna as multiple cells operating absent a strong leadership found themselves open to AQI recruiting, leading to an expansion of AQI's influence in cities and towns where the Coalition had degraded Ansar al-Sunna. Moreover, since the Ansar al-Sunna cell leaders often maintained financial and facilitation connections, individual cells had difficulty maintaining cohesion following the loss of their local leader.

Ansar al-Sunna was also at something a crossroads due to the fact that its members were increasingly divided into pro- and anti-AQI as well as Arab and Kurdish factions, leading to a rift between AQI and Ansar al-Sunna in Salahaddin. In Anbar by contrast, AQI and Ansar al-Sunna coordinated their activities, relied on the same weapons smugglers and foreign fighter facilitators, and shared the same enemies in the form of the SAA. As a result, the internal restructuring of Ansar al-Sunna at the national level did little to diminish the group's threat to the Coalition in Anbar. (228)

This odd love-hate relationship with the Zarqawists is perhaps the defining trait of the Ansar movement. It is rooted in the ideological proximity between the two, leading both to occupy the same political terrain of representing Iraqi Sunnidom, with either a more Arab flavor (the Zarqawists) or more Kurdish flavor (Ansar). Every iteration of Ansar has suffered defections to the Zarqawists: so much of the original Ansar al-Islam joined JTJ that the remnants renamed to Ansar al-Sunnah; when this happened against to Ansar al-Sunnah during the “State” (and later “Caliphate”) period, it renamed itself back to Ansar al-Islam.1

Al-Zawraa TV

One of the most interesting jihadist tactics during this period was the infiltration of major Iraqi and even broader Arab media stations. Al-Zawraa TV was one such case, and it played a key role in jihadist efforts to regain the initiative. Founded in October 2005 with embezzled government funds, it began broadcasting in September 2006. Its viciously anti-Shiite and pro-insurgent message led Baghdad to order Al-Zawraa be shut down. It resumed broadcasting in November from an unknown location. Its founder, the Sunni Iraqi MP Mishan al-Jaburi, was an unrepentant Ba’athist who detested the Coalition, the post-2003 Iraqi political order, and Shiites in general. As early as February 2004, Jaburi had waged a media war against the Coalition, at that time as an editor of the anti-Coalition newspaper al-Itijah al-Akhbar. His work bore fruit for the insurgency:

Despite his track record, [Jaburi] was able to use al-Zawraa as a very effective propaganda tool for the insurgency, constantly reporting massive Coalition defeats that resulted in no insurgent losses. The station was popular among Iraqi police in Ferris Town as well as some residents of Fallujah who perceived it to be credible as an "Iraqi" news station that was not government-controlled. AQI appears to have actively supported the station, with the group's strongholds in the Zobai tribal area serving as broadcast sites for al-Zawraa. While [Jaburi] lacked the personal appeal of [REDACTED], his station was a major success due to its ability to paint the Coalition as enemies of the Sunnis. Lincoln Group surveys between August and September 2006 indicated that a majority of Anbaris continued to support attacks on Coalition forces. While this figure declined somewhat with the rise of the SAA, the continued reception of al-Zawraa indicated that anti-Coalition sentiment remained prevalent in the province. (229)

Although not stated in the Study, ISI and other jihadists also began filtering rumors and misinformation into Arab media to confuse the Coalition. The most infamous rumor was that ISI leader Abu Umar al-Baghdadi was a fictitious persona played by one or perhaps more individuals. The rumor functioned as psyop against Coalition intelligence in two ways. First, it created confusion around the identity of Abu Umar, weakening Coalition intelligence frameworks and diverting their energy from potential insurgent candidates who may fit Abu Umar’s profile. Second, it bolstered the Coalition’s incorrect perception of ISI as a mere front or disguise for AQI, which the Study itself endorses, as seen throughout the numerous quotations above.

This perception wrongly diminished the radicalism and threat profile of ISI, placing it beneath global AQ. This meant that the Coalition would search for and target AQ operatives who were supposedly more senior than Abu Umar, thus diverting attraction from Abu Umar himself and ISI leadership in general. More importantly, this rumor led the Coalition to fundamentally misapprehend the nature of ISI, thus harming the nature of counter-jihadist operations. Had the Coalition understood that ISI was a real entity–that it was a “State” or even Caliphate in the jihadist mind–then it would devote all resources to its destruction. While Usama bin Ladin and AQ Central had the utmost jihadist prestige, their role was essentially as charismatic leaders. They had little, if any, operational impact on the events of Iraq. For this reason, the Coalition failed for many years to understand the true ideology of the Iraqi jihadists. However, with all that said, the Coalition continued to achieve major successes at lower levels, as on 1 December, when an air strike killed Abu Abdallah of ISI’s “Ajjamiyah Network.” This network ran all operations–attacks, logistics, foreign fighter smuggling, etc–in the Rawah-Anah corridor and Al Qaim areas, and Abu Abdallah’s death significantly weakened it.

Profiling the Insurgency at Year End

Parts of the non-ISI insurgency resumed attempts at negotiations in December 2006. A mid-level leader from Jaysh al-Fatihin traveled to Baghdad to meet with a prominent IIP official. The aim was to strengthen ties with the IIP and to arrange talks with Vice President Tariq al-Hashimi. Jaysh’s relationship with the IIP revealed an opportunistic streak in its strategy:

The relationship between Jaysh al-Fatihin and the IIP was an interesting one. During the December 2005 elections, Jaysh al-Fatihin (then Islamic Army of Iraq) members had supported the Tawafuq Front coalition of which both their political leader and then-IIP secretary general Tariq Hashimi were members. Members of the Islamic Army of Iraq apparently believed that Hashimi would give them jobs in the Iraqi government after he became vice president, but Hashimi apparently reneged on any agreement that existed between the two. (232)

This opportunism contributed to the Islamic Army of Iraq’s mass defections to the Zarqawists, who were more ideologically consistent. By late 2006, some Jaysh al-Fatihin units in Anbar had begun joining the Sahawat, although the national leadership was still suspicious. Shaykh Sattar Abu Risha entered talks with Jaysh’s top leadership to persuade them to join the Sahawat as a whole. Meanwhile, the remnants of the 1920 Revolution Brigades had almost entirely flipped to the Sahawat. In late December, parts of the Brigades even offered to directly join Iraqi Army and police units. The Sahawat had more trouble with convincing other insurgents to flip because “the criteria set by the SAA for former insurgents to join their group involved pledging allegiance to the Iraqi national government, making a public denunciation of AQI, and agreeing not to carry out any attacks against the Coalition.” (233) Such criteria revealed the Sahawat’s essentially pro-Coalition stance.

All considered, the Sahwa movement had made significant advances in just a few months:

By the beginning of December 2006, the SAA had expanded from its original core of five tribes centered in the Ramadi area to more than twenty spread throughout Anbar. While Sheikh Abdul Sattar was the organization's undisputed leader and tribal leaders from the original five tribes dominated the group's leadership positions, all major decisions were determined by consensus. The group's agencies included political, military, and media committees, and by December 2006 it had created an 11-point platform addressing everything from the question of local governance to de-Ba'athification to terrorism to economic recovery. While the SAA lacked the resources to attend to this diverse range of issues, they helped to organize the group at the grassroots level and garnered the interest of national politicians. (233)

The Sahawat had become the independent body of Sunni civil society. For the first time since the fall of the Ba’athist government, Sunni Arab Iraqis had a competent bloc to represent them within the new Iraqi political order, rather than in defiance to it. Still, the Sahwaji armed wing, the Anbar Revolutionaries, remained very organizationally immature, especially compared to the jihadists:

The Anbar Revolutionaries, by contrast, were a loose confederation of off-duty police, tribal fighters, and former SAR insurgents that by December 2006 had established chapters in Ramadi, Khalidiyah, Habbaniyah, Rutbah, Saqlawiyah, Karmah, Amariyah, and Ferris Town. These chapters did not coordinate their actions but instead served as something of a common banner for residents willing to expel AQI from their area. In many cases, local chapters of the Anbar Revolutionaries were made up of friends and relatives of AQI's victims wearing black masks, armed with AK-47s, and driving privately owned vehicles at night in search of their quarries. Despite the Anbar Revolutionaries' expansion however, the group's widespread cells had no defined regional leadership and were only as effective as their own local logistical capabilities and resources allowed them to be. (233)

Interestingly, by far the biggest success during this period was the restoration and maturation of the Iraqi police. Provincial police chief General Hamid Hamad al-Shawqa had successfully established three Emergency Response Battalions, together comprising 2,250 fighters. The “Sahwafied” Iraqi police would ultimately be the heart of the Coalition’s victory over the insurgency.2 For this same reason, its destruction (at the hands of ISI) and betrayal (at the hands of Nuri al-Maliki and Shiite sectarian forces) would pave the way for the 2014 Islamic State sweep.

City Survey, December 2006

Despite the jihadists’ major losses in Ramadi, they still maintained a significance presence in the city and its environs:

The Hay al-Dhubat Thanya district (2nd Officers' District) of Ramadi was the nerve center of AQI in Ramadi as well as the stronghold of AQI Ramadi amir Thamir Hamad Nahar. Despite the proliferation of COPs and extensive Coalition patrols, AQI retained a significant presence in the district. The group set up safe houses, arms caches, propaganda centers, and command and control nodes at Muhayim High School, Muhayim Elementary School, and the Abd al-Qadir Mosque. The Qatana district was also a center of AQI and Ansar al-Sunna activity in Ramadi, though much of this activity was concentrated in the eastern part of the district due to the establishment of the al-Warar police station. (234)

Meanwhile, in Khalidiyah, the Sahawat had made so many advances that ISI considered operations in the town simply untenable and maintained only a light logistical presence. Police patrols operated well and the identities of ISI members were posted in public forums such as mosques. This was also the case in Amariyah, where the IIP had regained control with the help of the Sahawat. Interestingly, an education ministry employee in Khalidiyah continued to act as an ISI mole, providing jobs to local fighters in education services, supplementing their own insurgent incomes.

The situation in Julaybah was much more dire, as ISI had a tight grip on the town:

AQI maintained an extremely strong influence in the Albu Bali and Albu Hizam tribal areas of Julaybah, with many residents too frightened by AQI to even speak with Coalition officials. This influence was due to the fact that both tribes' leading sheikhs were weak individuals who were unable to check AQI influence. Sheikh Sarhan Fadhil Marayi and Sheikh Sattar Muhammad Abd alFadhil of the Albu Bali tribe both fled to for fear of AQI, while Sheikh Ayad Muhammad Diwan of the Albu Hazim tribe fled with his family to the Jazira area north of the Euphrates River. In the absence of their leadership, AQI was able to maintain a strong presence in both tribal areas, holding parades in support of the Islamic Amirate of Iraq between the Albu Bali tribal area and Sijaria. (235)

This was likewise the case in Saqlawiyah, where fighters openly patrolled streets to enforce control over the population. The plight of residents in Karmah, a village outside Fallujah, was even worse as several villagers were evicted by ISI to create a base of operations. ISI’s control over Hit was especially grim, as the local city government had been completely defunct since August 2005 and many members of the city establishment were forced into supporting the jihadists. The group maintained a large facility for IED manufacturing, detention, and interrogation, which held twenty Albu Nimr members who had been abducted to secure the release of an arrested ISI operative. Furthermore, losses in Ramadi intensified ISI’s reliance on Hit, thus worsened its reign:

With the loss of both Ramadi General Hospital and the Women and Children's Hospital as AQI strongholds, the group's cells in Ramadi were forced to either rely on smaller, local clinics or to take their injured to other hospitals outside the Ramadi area. In addition to Kirkuk and Fallujah, Hit was a particularly attractive destination for injured AQI fighters because the same smuggling networks that the group used to transport fighters, weapons, and equipment from Ramadi to the Sijariya and Jazira areas could be used to transport injured fighters to Hit. (237)

In the final days of 2006, on 30 December, Saddam Husayn was executed in court. Although most Sunni Arabs preferred the Ba’athist government to the post-2003 regime, few mourned Husayn, whom they despised as a failed tyrant. Yet none would dare celebrate Husayn’s execution, as this represented the culmination of Shiite identitarian politics and its triumph in the new Iraq. For this reason, the only popular Sunni reaction was outrage, viewing it as the latest offense in a long list of Coalition and Shiite perfidy. Some had hoped that Husayn’s death would finally sate the revanchism of Shiite identitarianism in Iraq. In reality, it marked the beginning of a new stage.

Summary

The last four months of 2006 saw the formation of the Sahawat and ISI, two twin phenomenon emerging from within Sunni Iraqi political society. ISI represented the final stage of the Iraqi jihadist project–the establishment of a proto-Caliphate–which had begun after the Coalition. This move cemented its role as the vanguard of the global jihadist movement and formally superseded the authority of AQ Central, including Usama bin Ladin. Similarly, reading the jihadists as the hideous bearers of Iraqi national liberation, ISI represented the final stage of the movement, as it formed a self-declared parallel government to the Coalition-constructed government in Baghdad. This parallel government could claim grassroots support–but it also saw rapidly growing grassroots opposition in the Sahawat.

The Sahwa movement mirrored ISI, as it was the bearer of Sunni political interests in the new regime. It had been Sunni Iraqis’ great misfortune that the Zarqawists were leading Iraqi national liberation. While there was much to detest about the Green Zone Regime, the jihadists were no better, frequently slaughtering members of their own base, not to mention countless Shiite Iraqis. The Sahawat created breathing room, but its essential weakness was that it was a collaborator movement for the Coalition. The US had been desperate to form a pro-US Sunni civil society movement, and the Sahawat had become precisely that movement. Sunni Iraqis were therefore trapped. On the one hand, they could continue the terrible fight for national liberation–and suffer the depravity of jihadist rule–and on the other hand, they could gain much-needed security and peace but sacrifice any hope of dislodging US control over Iraq. This unhappy country has finally achieved a measure of prosperity and peace, but it suffered dearly in the twenty years since the events described above. Sadly, the jihadists were not fully defeated by the Sahawat.

Islamic State of Iraq fighters sing before going out on a raid

Brief Recap

We previously analyzed the October 2006 declaration of the Islamic State of Iraq (ISI), which had grown out of and subsumed the Mujahidin Shura Council (MSC) and several other jihadist groups.1 This move officially dissolved AQI and by extension the Al Qaida project in Iraq. From that point on, operational relations between ISI and AQ Central were forever severed, though the two maintained political ties for eight more years. Just prior to ISI’s emergence, in September, the undercurrent of Sunni tribal resistance to the Zarqawists finally cohered into the Sahwa movement, colloquially called the Sahawat, or “Awakenings.”

The “State” and the “Awakening” were essentially twin phenomenon. ISI represented the height of jihadist power, but this height reflected the many enemies that the Zarqawists had created, especially within Sunni Iraqi society. While ISI could justifiably claim the support of most tribal youth, this directly antagonized many tribal authorities, whose power it directly undermined. These authorities stomached this challenge because they could not pose a durable challenge to the jihadists. The Sahawat under the leadership of Shaykh Sattar Abu Risha was exactly the challenge they had sought for so long. Slowly but surely, many tribal leaders joined Abu Risha’s movement, which even inspired anti-AQI insurgents to follow suit, though this carried its own tensions.

Sahwaji Insurgents

The anti-AQI wing of the insurgency had been largely marginalized by the Zarqawists. This wing began to fragment in 2005, a process which rapidly accelerated in 2006. Throughout the year, various non-AQI groups splintered with many members allying with or outright defecting to MSC. This was a function of multiple factors. First was MSC’s immense power and prestige. As brutal as the organization was, it had genuine appeal because of its unassailable combat credentials against the Coalition and Shiites. Second was MSC’s ruthless targeting of rivals that did not subordinate themselves to the jihadist project. For rank-and-file fighters, it was better to join MSC (and later ISI) to continue the struggle than to risk death in intra-insurgent battles. Third was confusion and disorganization in non-jihadist ranks, which lacked MSC’s iron discipline and fanatical ideology:

While the leadership of the SAR [Sunni Arab Resistance] insurgent groups detested AQI, each group had different goals, methodologies, and patrons from the street level to the senior leadership. As a result, funding and weapons from AQI often outweighed the intangible benefits of unity against them, preventing a consensus from emerging among the remaining SAR groups. Even so, many SARs opted to join the SAA as well as the legitimate Iraqi army and police forces. Sheikh Abdul Sattar hoped to use [REDACTED]’s influence to strengthen his position to convince other SAR leaders and more importantly their street level fighters to join the Iraqi security forces. (201)

One such group was the 1920 Revolution Brigades. Like other non-AQI groups, this organization had splintered throughout 2006, suffering huge losses to the Zarqawists. The remnants of the Brigades were primarily localized to Ramadi, which encouraged its leader Harith Dhahir Khamis al-Dhari (not to be confused with his uncle, also named Harith al-Dhari) to ally with Sattar Abu Risha and the Sahawat. The two quickly formed a good working relationship. Harith Dhahir hoped that his alliance with the Sahawat would lead to an amnesty for himself and his fighters, alongside their favorable integration into the new Iraqi political order. The internal dysfunction of the Brigades meant Dhari had little influence beyond Ramadi, so he had to rely on local allies. In Fallujah, one such ally convinced fighters of the local 1920 Revolution Brigades to fight ISI, but could not halt their attacks on Coalition forces.

This portended a major meeting at the end of October, where the Sahawat agreed not to arrest or attack SAR fighters on the condition that they had not previously spilled Iraqi blood, whether it be National Guard, police, or civilians. Sattar Abu Risha then began to lobby for the release of detained SAR fighters who had fought the Coalition but not attacked fellow Iraqis. A key tactic was to couple insurgent amnesties with the enlistment in Sahwa militias: “Before the release occurred, SAR fighters had to agree to join the ‘honorable insurgency’ of the SAA and help it to defeat the ‘outsiders’ and ‘Takfiris.’” (201) The Sahawat thus escalated its propaganda against ISI, portraying them as foreign terrorists who oppressed Iraqis, and themselves as patriots defending Iraqi society. Note the irony here: The objectively quisling Sahawat called the anti-Coalition ISI foreign usurpers. Although the Sahawat’s motivations were sympathetic and understandable, their role was to solidify the US occupation of Iraq and shore up the fragile post-2003 political order. This specific line built on a much older Coalition psyop against the Sunni insurgency, and it is worth tracing the lineage of this particular line as it dates to even before the war.

In the run up to the invasion, the US began falsely portraying Iraq as a safe-haven for foreign jihadist networks under the leadership of Zarqawi. These claims went together with the lies that the Ba’athist government was seeking weapons of mass destruction. Both were central in Colin Powell’s infamous speech to the UN on 5 February, 2003, where he made the case for war against Iraq. This was the “preemptive” argument, while the “affirmative” argument was that the Iraqi people wanted to be liberated by the US from the Ba’ath Party’s tyranny. Come 9 April of that year, Saddam Husayn’s regime had been toppled and Husayn himself was a fugitive on the run. The ease of the invasion and the relative calm of the immediate aftermath led the American government and media to boost its claims that the Iraqi people welcomed Coalition forces as liberators. Then came early stirrings of Iraqi resistance, first sporadic then slowly taking shape across the country, especially the Sunni Arab regions.

The Coalition portrayed this as the work of the jihadists it had identified prior to the invasion. Such claims were seemingly bolstered by the spate of suicide bombings that commenced in the summer of 2003, beginning with the Jordanian Embassy attack on 7 August. Although Zarqawi’s network was indeed responsible for such strikes, the truth was that he had already integrated several Iraqi jihadist groups and began recruiting Iraqis into his ranks. It is extremely unlikely that they would have had such a permissive environment had the Saddam Husayn regime remained in place–something that Iraqi JTJ founders like Abu Muhammad al-Salmani later openly admitted. As the Sunni insurgency matured in late 2003 and escalated in early 2004, the Coalition doubled down on its claims that all insurgent activities in Iraq were the work of “foreigners”–a highly questionable label when we take the term literally. Were Coalition troops not foreign to Iraq? Zarqawi himself commented on the irony: “Who is the foreigner, O cross-worshippers?! You are the ones who came to a land of Muslims from your distant corrupt land!” The Coalition continued to repeat this psyop, but it lost its effectiveness as the Iraqi insurgency became more and more undeniable as a widespread movement in Iraqi society.

Somewhere along the way, this psyop was picked up by insurgent rivals to the jihadists, which had taken leadership of the insurgency after the First Battle of Fallujah. Although initially muted, this line gained more and more currency as Zarqawist dominance became clear. It gained a major boost when JTJ transformed into AQI, thus becoming the Iraqi branch of the Khorasan-based AQ Central. The foreign fighters in the movement–although insignificant in absolute terms (likely ~5% at any given moment)–were the grain of truth in the accusation. Their presence in leadership positions earned them the spotlight and thus gave the accusation its potency.2 However, this potency dwindled over time as the native Iraqi appeal and character of the Zarqawist movement became undeniable. Indeed, it was native Iraqi jihadism from before the war that most defined Zarqawism, which sidelined or subsumed nearly all militant networks in Iraq. The losers in this process (such as the SAR) found their salvation in the Sahawat, and they brought back the anti-AQI psyop in force. The line came full circle. It was first coined by the Coalition and it reached its height with the Coalition’s most effective Sunni quisling force.

Returning to the Sahawat’s rapprochement with anti-ISI insurgents, this was central to the restoration of policing capabilities and general security forces in Anbar. Recall that the Iraqi police in Anbar and elsewhere had been objects of extreme persecution by the jihadists since the beginning of the war. Restoring their mere presence was a significant advance. Sattar Abu Risha and his close ally, provincial police chief Hamid Hamad al-Shawqa, began forming a 750-strong police strike force (composed of three battalions) to fight ISI. This was planned to be in coordination with the Iraqi Army. Such a plan was warmly welcomed by the Army and the Iraqi Defense Ministry, which ordered Army divisions to support the Sahawat upon Abu Risha’s request. In return, Abu Risha agreed to recruit 2,000 Sunni troops in the Army. The Sahawat even gained the support of the notoriously sectarian Interior Ministry and Nuri al-Maliki, who agreed to directly arm and equip Sahwa militias from government stockpiles. Abu Risha also made it a point to work within Iraqi government structures to affirm its legitimacy instead of operating as a paramilitary.

These plans proved immediately successful, as provincial chief Shawqa not only quickly built the 750-strong strike force, but even recruited an additional 2,000 volunteers to support the strike force. They were distributed across Anbar to restore or support police forces that had been under severe pressure for several years. Shawqa’s effective coordination with the Sahawat came down to the fact that Shawqa himself was a Sahwaji and was personally close with Abu Risha. He was the second highest-ranking Sahawat leader and acted as Abu Risha’s top deputy in office. In effect, the Sahawat was both a tribal militia movement and as the Anbari security forces. This allowed the Sahawat to soon build strong relations with the provincial government, with which it had previously experiences major tensions. Sattar Abu Risha’s respect for the law and willingness to work within the constitutional order also greatly ingratiated him with Baghdad and the Coalition. Coupled with his personal prestige, this gave the new Iraqi political order a sorely-needed boost in legitimacy among Sunnis.

Troubles in the State

By late October, popular resistance to and internal troubles of ISI began to seriously alarm the organization’s leadership. For instance, citizens of the border town ar-Rabit expelled the local ISI leader, informing him they would no longer tolerate the smuggling of foreign fighters–something unthinkable mere months before. Meanwhile, ISI’s top logistics emir was under legal pressure within ISI due to credible suspicions that he had embezzled millions during his tenure. He then concentrated his efforts in Al Qaim to regain the city for ISI and hopefully re-enter the leadership council’s good graces. This coincided with the Coalition arrest of Mullah Humaydi, ISI’s fourth-in-command, chief war counsel, and top advisor for all operations in Anbar; and the killing of Rafa Abdul-Salam, who was a key commander operating throughout the Ramadi area.

Such losses led some key Iraqi ISI leader to begin expressing dissent over the state of the movement. They blamed the large number of killed or arrested senior field commanders on poor leadership by Abu Umar al-Baghdadi and Abu Hamza al-Muhajir, whom they accused of being out of touch with field needs. The depletion of ISI’s field leadership weakened its operational vision and its ability to give direction. The replacement field commanders tended to be weaker leaders than their predecessors when it came to combat expertise, social prestige, and financial connections. Thus, ISI’s vast resources were being wasted in an especially critical time for the movement. The dissenting ISI leaders also resented Muhajir’s ties to AQ Central, which they viewed as diluting the power of native Iraqi jihadists. Further:

Dissent was also driven in part by the evolving situation on the ground in Anbar and other parts of Iraq. The sectarian violence so desired by Zarqawi had plunged the Sunni inhabitants of Baghdad into an existential struggle for survival against Shi'a militias, making AQI's agenda for global jihad and restoration of the caliphate irrelevant to many Iraqi Sunnis in comparison with the need for day-to-day security. The relationship between AQI and its former SAR allies remained fluid, with rifts between the two now a common phenomenon in Anbar and other Sunni areas of Iraq. As far as the dissenters within the AQI leadership were concerned, there was now an increasing grassroots Sunni opposition to overcome in addition to their daily combat against the Coalition and Shi'a militias. As a result of the establishment of the SAA, AQI was on the defensive in Ramadi, a situation that some AQI leaders believed would never have occurred under Zarqawi. (204)

ISI’s brutality also began to backfire. No longer would ordinary Sunnis simply stomach these abuses, as the ambient opposition could now be channeled into the Sahawat, which posed an existential threat to ISI. Likewise, ISI’s onslaught against the police had finally lose its effectiveness. A growing number of police units refused to back down and now fought to the end, stretching ISI’s resources thin. A new policy was required but its effectiveness was undermined:

In an effort to provide a greater degree of strategic direction to his followers, in late November 2006, [REDACTED] reportedly delivered a major policy speech to AQI leaders at the al-Risala Mosque in the Albu Fahd tribal area. During the speech, [REDACTED] declared Ramadi a "city of jihad" similar to Kirkuk, Mosul, Samarra, and Baghdad and stated that all Islam would be in jeopardy and the Arab nation weakened if the Coalition and the current Iraqi government defeated AQI. In response, [REDACTED] announced the formation of a ministry of war and a ministry of information for the Islamic Amirate of Iraq to oversee more coherent policies for the new state.

[REDACTED] also attempted to build popular support, but the loss of [REDACTED] meant that the effort was clumsy and often contradictory, and had little chance of winning over large numbers of Anbaris to the cause of global jihad. Even as AQI leaders marked down fuel prices for supporters or forced taxi drivers to give cheap rides to the poor, its fighters pillaged medical supplies, intimidated hospital employees, closed down local schools, and beheaded suspected collaborators in the street. also had to mount an aggressive military response to the SAA or risk being severely degraded by the Ramadi area tribes. As a result, many Anbaris were not swayed by AQI's new “hearts and minds” campaign, though they were willing to exploit it when it suited them to do so. (205)

The Zarqawist movement’s long list of sins was finally catching up to them.

Tribal War Again

One illustrative case was the sudden warfare between the Albu Issa and Albu Alwan tribes, which revealed just how enmeshed the jihadists had become in parochial tribal conflicts and how much worse they made them.

Following the murder of Ramadi police captain Jabr Albu Alwan by AQI, the Albu Alwan tribal leadership requested permission to join the SAA to exercise tha'r. As a result, factions and subtribes within the Albu Issa loyal to AQI and their Islamic Amirate of Iraq [referring to ISI – Rob] began setting up checkpoints in an effort to kill any Albu Alwan tribesmen who were members of the IIP [Iraqi Islamic Party]. The pro-AQI Albu Issa tribesmen also planned to use car bombs to destroy the Usama bin Zayd Mosque that served as the primary mosque for the Albu Alwan tribal area. (206)

Thus, ISI was at war with the Albu Alwan tribe in Ramadi. This pushed the tribe into the arms of the Sahawat when previously it had been suspicious of Abu Risha’s movement. On 12 November, Albu Alwan tribal leadership opened a new police station with Coalition support in a Ramadi neighborhood. Furthermore, the tribes began rigorously patrolling its areas in a campaign to evict ISI. This was a remarkable development given the Albu Alwan’s historical suspicion and even hostility towards the Coalition. Note that the Coalition and ISI’s respective relations with the tribes mirrored one another. The line between ISI and Albu Issa blurred, and it was unclear how much of this conflict was strictly tribal warfare as opposed to jihadist insurgency,

The primary architect of the AQI campaign against the Albu Alwan was Arkan Fayyad Muslih, the leader of an AQI IED cell that operated in the Halabsa tribal area with the support of pro-AQI members of the Albu Issa tribe. These pro-AQI Albu Issa tribesmen told Arkan which areas he was allowed to carry out attacks, acting as an intermediary between the tribe and AQI fighters operating in East al-Nasaf and Amariyah. Arkan's efforts were financed by Shakir Ahmed Mujbal, who stole cars from the Saqlawiyah area and resold them in Baghdad. (2006)

Yet, despite such close relations with ISI, the broader Albu Issa tribe was still bitterly divided over the jihadists. Pro- and anti-ISI sub-tribes were at war with one another amidst the broader war, which led to strange intra-tribal development. After the attack on the Albu Alwan, the Fuhaylat sub-tribe of the Albu Issa agreed to pay substantial blood money for the killing of police officers in Amariyah and Ferris Town. This ended sub-tribal warfare in those particular settlements, giving much needed relief to the local police forces. Note the conspicuous absence of anti-Coalition activities during this entire episode. A significant amount of resources was devoted to strictly intra-Sunni tribal bloodshed, which could only weaken the insurgency. This was a direct consequence of ISI’s total intransigence against any potential rival forces, especially tribal authorities.

Security Developments

In parallel, during early and mid-November, the collaboration between the Sahawat and the Iraqi government was restoring some semblance of security in Ramadi. This was a major advance to mere months earlier, when much of Ramadi was a jihadist emirate. In coordination with the Sahawat and Iraqi Army, Iraqi police force units entered Ramadi to arrest ISI operatives. Placing police units at the heart of the strategy finally overcame the inherent sectarian disputes over the Iraqi Army, which most Sunnis perceived to be a Shiite sectarian institution. In contrast, the police were well-embedded in local communities and had a long history of representing ordinary Sunni interests. This created much-needed popular goodwill, which facilitated policing activities.

While it would be a mistake to state that AQI's position was diminished in Ramadi at this stage [early November – Rob], the group's freedom of movement had been reduced. Outside the Qatana district, the establishment of the 17th Street security station prevented fighters from moving freely in that district. Aggressive operations by the Coalition, Iraqi police, and the Anbar Revolutionaries continued to attrite the group's leaders and fighters in the city, while the discovery of the group's weapons caches at Anbar University and the Jazira hindered AQI's ability to reconstitute its operations. The Albu Alwan and Albu Soda were now openly anti-AQI, and both tribes conducted patrols and worked with the Coalition to prevent AQI from entering their territory. On November 16, the Coalition and Iraqi police carried out Operation TINIAN, which removed AQI's command and control node at the Women and Children's Hospital. (208)

One key police tactic was to bring detained insurgents for meetings with tribal leaders, where they would be informed that ISI operatives were no longer welcome in Ramadi. In some cases, Sattar Abu Risha himself met with the detainees, telling them that ex-ISI members were welcome to join the Sahawat. This was another powerful political move, as it granted the option of amnesty to jihadist fighters. This option gave them an incentive to give up the jihad instead of fighting to the bitter end. The Coalition also continued to achieve successes against ISI, killing or arresting key commanders, further weakening ISI’s field command structure. The Sahawat’s biggest achievement yet came in a meeting later in November, where eleven tribes formally agreed to join the Sahawat, which encouraged even more tribes beyond Ramadi to follow suit. The Sahawat had now expanded across Anbar, meaning it could not be dismissed as a purely local phenomenon.

Troubles Among ISI’s Insurgent Opponents

Jaysh al-Fatihin

This organization was the renamed Islamic Army of Iraq, or rather the remnants that had not defected to or openly allied with the Zarqawists, as occurred throughout 2005-06. Although the Sahawat focused on ISI, its activities also weakened Jaysh al-Fatihin (JaF). The restored police presence and overwhelmingly pro-Sahwa opinions in Zangora (as it was the home of the Albu Risha tribe) virtually eliminated JaF’s presence in the settlement. The group’s decentralized nature and its relative weakness forced it to rely on criminal activities for financing. Locals greatly resented this, which weakened JaF’s ability to replenish its ranks. The organization’s leadership was also divided on several matters. The JaF security chief for Anbar favored a ceasefire with the Coalition, but all other leaders opposed any such move. Even during prospective talks for a ceasefire, these other leaders continued to orchestrate attacks on Coalition forces. These attacks were often blamed on ISI to shift responsibility. However, the element of truth in this claim was that much of JaF’s ranks still worked or even sympathized with ISI. This dynamic was reflective of the broader Sunni insurgency even when accounting for the growing “Sahwaji insurgent” phenomenon. It is worth quoting the Study at length:

While this cooperation was taking place, limited cooperation between Jaysh al-Fatihin and AQI also occurred on a local level in Ramadi due to the personal relationships between the local leaders of both organizations. It is worth recalling that many local AQI leaders in Ramadi were themselves former members of the Islamic Army of Iraq that had joined AQI and thus retained their personal ties to their former comrades. Although the Jaysh al-Fatihin national leadership identified AQI as their primary threat, many local cells in Anbar were unable to resist AQI's influence. Such cells continued to carry out attacks against the Coalition as their raison d'etre, often with support from their counterparts in AQI.

Meanwhile, Jaysh al-Fatihin found itself cut out of major sources of funding by AQI's dominance of Anbar's black market fuel smuggling and heavy involvement in kidnapping rackets. This forced many Jaysh al-Fatihin cells to become dependent on AQI for funding, which, combined with AQI's recruitment of detained Jaysh al-Fatihin fighters at Coalition facilities, enabled AQI to build up its own operational capabilities at Jaysh al-Fatihin's expense by siphoning away its most experienced operatives. Despite propaganda claims that Jaysh al-Fatihin numbered between 6-46,000 members, as of late 2005 the group's size had in fact numbered closer to 1,050 core members in contrast to Ansar al-Sunna with 2,950 core members and AQI with 5,495 core members. This gave the group a robust capability to conduct IED, SAF, and IDF attacks against Coalition forces, but also meant that it was only one fifth the size of AQI.

As a result, Jaysh al-Fatihin cell leaders in Anbar were unable to follow the directives of their central leadership absent a substantial amount of support for fear that their fighters would defect en masse and join AQI. This situation, along with successful targeting by the Coalition and Iraqi security forces, led to the organization's slow decline in Ramadi, making the group unable to operate without substantial support from AQI. Recognizing this situation, the national leadership of Jaysh al-Fatihin began reducing its efforts in Anbar to refocus on Samarra, Tikrit, and Mosul. (209-10)

Re-deployment for “greener pastures” in other regions would also soon characterize ISI’s activities, as Anbar increasingly became a hostile environment.

Jaysh Muhammad and Ba’athists

The continued existence of Jaysh Muhammad (JM) came down to financial support from Saddam Husayn’s daughter Raghad. JM’s operational peak was in mid-2004, and the organization’s power declined precipitously after the Second Battle of Fallujah due to leadership losses and rank-and-file defections to other, more powerful rivals (mostly the Zarqawists). By this point in the insurgency, JM represented the idiotic hopes of Ba’athists who viewed it as a potential vehicle for restoring the Ba’ath Party’s relevance. This effort was stillborn. Many Sunni Iraqis held the Ba’ath in utter contempt and had no wish to see it return to power even if they may have detested the new Iraqi political order.

In general, the remnants of the Iraqi Ba’ath Party continued to live in a world of delusions. They initiated several harebrained schemes to restore any measure of political relevance in the insurgency in particular and Iraqi politics in general. One such scheme began with the reestablishment of the General Security Directorate (GSD), a prewar security service aimed at eliminating internal dissent. The GSD would supposedly facilitate Ba’athist resurgence throughout Iraq. Under the “leadership” of General Sadun Sabri Jamal, the GSD was based in Aleppo, where it sought to recruit and fundraise from the Iraqi expatriate population in the city–who unsurprisingly wanted nothing to do with the Ba’athists.

Another scheme was to meet with various exiled SAR leaders in Jordan to cobble together these fragmented groups into one new organization. This organization would act as the vehicle for the Iraqi Ba’ath Party’s return through negotiations with the Coalition. The drafters of this scheme strangely mistook the Coalition’s alliance with the Sahawat as an opportunity to restore Ba’athist rule. Equally strange, they were unaware of how deeply despised the Ba’ath Party was by the Sunni Iraqi population as a whole and especially the insurgency. They also did not comprehend that all Sunni members of the new Iraqi order were themselves former exiled opponents of the Ba’athist government. The Ba’ath lacked any potential, let alone actual, constituency in Sunni Iraq. Thus, as was the case in previous years, Ba’athist influence in Iraqi politics was limited to financing various actors who were either politically impotent or viciously anti-Ba’athist (such as the jihadists) and viewed them as useful idiots.3

ISI Strikes Back

By late November, the Sahawat’s operations had taken its toll on ISI in Ramadi, so the group planned to eliminate the Albu Soda tribe and the police force in the Sufia district. The jihadists singled out the Albu Soda because it was the weakest link of teh Sahawat. So degraded had ISI become that it was forced to rely on support from Ansar al-Sunnah for the operation. This allowed Ansar to expand its presence in Ramadi proper, which had previously been ISI’s domain. Thus, 200-300 fighters were mobilized from ISI and Ansar, plus volunteers from far beyond Anbar, such as Samarra in Salahuddin. Sahwaji intelligence networks discovered the plan in advance, so the Sahawat succeeded in fighting back the jihadists in the ensuing “Battle of Sufia” in Ramadi. Jihadist fighters attacked the district in successive waves, killing at least 55 Sahwa fighters, including the brothers of the local Sahwa leader Shaykh Jassim Muhammad Salih. They also destroyed Shaykh Jassim’s home and committed numerous atrocities in the district. Although repelled, the jihadists were not defeated, so they regrouped to neighboring Julaybah to plan their next assault.

Despite losses in Ramadi, the “State” was as strong as ever in the Haditha Triad, where it formally established a jihadist emirate (similar efforts were underway elsewhere in Iraq, such as Samarra). Any semblance of the municipal government and tribal authority had been destroyed and replaced with rigid Wahhabi theocracy. Interestingly, many of ISI’s “sharia jurists” in charge of the Triad lacked significant knowledge of sharia, so they “often issued their judgements by the plaintiffs’ degree of agreement and cooperation with AQI [sic] rather than on the merits of the case itself.” (215) Political power took priority over theological purity. This was best seen in a curious favor to ex-soldiers: “among the acts undertaken by the shari’ah court was the assignment of plots of land to all former Iraqi soldiers in fulfillment of a promise that Saddam Hussein had made to them in 2000.” (215) This was despite ISI’s fervent animosity towards Ba’athism, as Abu Umar al-Baghdadi required all former Ba’athists to undergo rigorous ideological vetting to ensure they “recognized the tyranny and infidelity of Ba’athism.” On an everyday level, smoking was forbidden and women were required to wear the niqab at all times. The “State’s” grip was all-encompassing:

According to captured AQI documents and thumb drives, AQI leaders implemented shari’ah and other aspects of their totalitarian theocracy on the basis of directions received from the uppermost echelons of the organization. In keeping with standards that may well have been inherited from the tradecraft of the Ba'athist secret police, AQI maintained extremely meticulous records on the activities of the Haditha areas inhabitants at least as far north as Kubaysah. (215)

This grip was particularly the case in Coalition prison camps, most infamous of which was Camp Bucca.

Jihadism in Prison Camps

Yet, despite its infamy, Camp Bucca was only one camp of several that served as pressure cookers for ISI. Prisoners in the camps were not segregated by their former insurgent membership or even nationality, allowing ISI operatives (both foreign and Iraqi) to indoctrinate other detainees with their version of Salafi Jihadism. One major legacy of the Ba’athist government is that most Sunnis lacked any serious religious education, making them highly susceptible to the ideological proselytizing of ISI. Indeed: “one tribal sheikh estimated in October 2006 that as many as 30% of those who entered Coalition detention facilities as secular Sunnis left as adherents of AQI’s version of Islam.” (215) The situation in Camp Cropper was illustrative:

At Camp Cropper, AQI members formed a group called the Sharayeen that taught courses in Islamic law to detainees, claiming that they wanted them to learn more about shari’ah, the Qu'ran, and being good Muslims. Those who disagreed with the Sharayeen's interpretation of Islam were threatened. The Camp Cropper AQI detainees also formed a shari’ah committee that encouraged members of the group to conduct daily physical exercises to keep themselves in shape, offered guidance on counter-interrogation techniques, and practiced excellent OPSEC to avoid detection by the Coalition. The shari’ah committees at Camp Cropper and other detention facilities indoctrinated prospective AQI members through a five-class curriculum intended to educate detainees into becoming SREs, educating ten detainees at a time. Once a detainee decided to join AQI, they were forced to pledge bayat to UBL [Usama bin Ladin] and recite a daily pledge of allegiance to AQI and their own willingness to die for UBL and [Abu Umar al-Baghdad]. As a result of this recruiting program, AQI was able to successfully recruit from other insurgent groups even while its members were held in Coalition detention facilities. (2015-16)

Recruits were also taught to resist interrogation with tactics likely originating in the Manchester Manual, a jihadist document captured by British police during a raid in May 2000. The Manual had detailed instructions for detainees (216):

• Develop a cover story

• Refuse to answer repeat questions

• Answer questions as vaguely as possible

• Provide names of dead colleagues and name them as leadership figures

• Never divulge information about your true mission

• Provide support to and strengthen fellow inmates

• Recite the Qur’an during questioning

• Avoid looking into the eyes of the interrogator

• Deny anything mistakenly divulged during earlier interrogations; x Claim torture to invalidate information provided

• If necessary, self-inflict wounds to provide the appearance of torture

• Never trust the interrogator—never forget he is your enemy

• Refuse to confirm or deny anything

• Confronting the interrogator and defeating him is part of your jihad

• It is better to die a martyr than provide information to the interrogator.

Challenges to the Sahawat

ISI escalated its campaign against the Sahawat by internationalizing the conflict. On 4 November, ISI operatives attempted to assassinate a 1920 Revolution Brigade leader in Zabadani, Syria. In 2005, AQI had expressed its intent to murder this individual, but due to his growing operational irrelevance, his assassination was deprioritized. His rapprochement with the Sahawat made ISI reprioritize, leading to the attempted assassination despite the risk of kinetic operations in Syria.

At the same time, since the rise of the reformed Anbar Revolutionaries and other anti-AQI groups in August 2006, AQI had made an intensive effort to identify and track the movements of SAR insurgent leaders who were active in [Syria]. Even so, the group was reluctant to target them directly for fear of incurring the wrath of the [Syrian] security services. While elements of the [Syrian] government were willing to a degree to harbor and facilitate AQI attacks in Iraq, major attacks against SAR leaders in [Syria] would indicate an absence of [Syrian] control over its own territory. (217)

The Assad regime’s patronage of the Zarqawists evidently led to blowback. Back in Iraq, ISI resorted to false flag operations to discredit the Sahawat.

As part of their counter-offensive against SAA, AQI leader began kidnapping and murdering Iraqi police officers near the Abra Bridge in Saqlawiyah while posing as a member of the Anbar Revolutionaries. AQI also began distributing black propaganda, committing atrocities while posing as Anbar Revolutionaries, and attempting to infiltrate the organization and undermine it from within. (217)

But this was not the only challenge to the Sahawat, as a new one emerged from Harith al-Dhari’s Association of Muslim Scholars (AMS), which had been involved in the insurgency from the beginning. It began on 10 November, when the secretary-general of the AMS told al-Arabiyah TV that: “A group of outlaws does not like the resistance, which opposes its crimes and diminishes its ambitions. Therefore, the government, or certain parties in it, has begun to use this group to counter the resistance.” (217) The AMS had always considered the Zarqawists as members of the “resistance,” and since Zarqawi’s death in June 2006, the two forces had grown closer. Two days later, on 12 November, Sattar Abu Risha responded on al-Iraqiyah TV:

The al-Anbar Tribes Awakening Conference [i.e. the SAA (Sahawat)] would like to respond to the claims made by Harith al-Dhari, agent of the Persians and the European Union through the French Ambassador, with whom he held meetings. We say to you that you know bandits better, as you have a long experience in this regard... Who are you to make such statements, which show your defeat on the battlefield? You are visiting countries to beg for donations for the Takfiris and hired killers. Decent resistance washes its hands of you and your actions. The sons of tribes stand up today, wearing the uniform which you can see on television screens, to say to you that you represent only yourself and the hired Takfiris who follow you. (218)

When it comes to the substance of their claims, the AMS was closer to the truth. Many Sahwaji shaykhs had been quite marginal in the prewar Sunni tribal order and used the Sahawat to boost their standing, in doing so, forming criminal patronage networks of their own. This was the case with Abu Risha himself. In general, the Sahawat functioned as an enormous tribal syndicate, financed by the Coalition, whose forces often arrived with literal truckloads of money to bribe shaykhs. At the same time, the AMS’s allies were indeed “takfiris” who had taken on a highly criminal character in their own right. For many tribes, the question was ultimately over which project–the jihadist or the American–would best serve this character. As the Study puts it: “The animosity between Harith al-Dhari and Sheikh Abdul Sattar was due to the fact that the two men represented different sides of the same Sunni coin, with Sheikh Abdul Sattar attempting to demonstrate to Sunnis that working with the Iraqi government could pay off and Harith al-Dhari fearing that his anti-government message was now being countered.” (218) Ample American money and genuine anti-jihadist successes had bolstered Abu Risha’s credibility while the intensifying suffering of ordinary Sunnis hurt Harith al-Dhari’s.

Baghdad seemed unaware of this trend, and undermined it on 16 November by issuing an arrest warrant for Dhari, charging him of “inciting terrorism and violence among the Iraqi people.”4 This suspended rivalries within the AMS and force it to close ranks around Dhari. In turn, this led AMS-aligned insurgents to halt negotiations with Baghdad (but tellingly, not with the Coalition). The arrest warrant inadvertently highlighted the highly sectarian nature of the new Iraqi political order:

While Harith al-Dhari was a supporter of the Sunni insurgency, his arrest warrant was criticized on the grounds that the Shi'a still had a standing warrant out for the arrest of Muqtada al-Sadr for the 2003 murder of Shi'a religious leader Sayid Abdul Majid al-Khoei. Thus, Sunni leaders believed that Harith al-Dhari was being persecuted because he was a Sunni while Muqtada al-Sadr, a Shi'a, was allowed to remain free. Moreover, even though al-Sadr was seen as the greater threat to the Iraqi government it was seen as acceptable for more than thirty MPs to be affiliated with his office. As a result, the SAA [aka Sahawat] was forced to make tentative statements of opposition to the arrest warrant for Harith al-Dhari even as it retained an amicable relationship with the Shi'a Iraqi army units in Ramadi. (219)

This complicated the Sahawat’s relationship with Baghdad, as this incident showed it to be an agent of the hated post-2003 regime. Their self-image as righteous Sunni tribal patriots was credibly undermined, though it certainly did not halt their advance in the long term.

Abu Risha continued his campaign against the AMS with a number of provocative statements. He began by urging for Dhari’s replacement by Shaykh Ahmad Abdul-Ghafur al-Samarra'i on 18 November. Shaykh Ahmad supported this move, as he had previously worked with the Coalition to limit AMS influence while it was under Dhari’s leadership. Abu Risha then threatened Dhari’s tribe, the Albu Zobai, ordering them to halt their support for Dhari or face attacks from the Sahawat. The Albu Zobai had been hardline supported of the insurgency from the beginning, but this was due to reasons much bigger than Dhari–namely, the tribe’s cultural isolation, its severe poverty, and its historical affinities with Wahhabism. In this sense, Dhari merely represented, rather than created, the Albu Zobai’s insurgent politics. Finally, Abu Risha requested the return of two Sunni Iraqi clerics from the UAE to provide “better” spiritual guidance to the Sunni tribes. Both of these clerics had previously supported the non-Zarqawist insurgency, especially in 2004 and to an extent in 2005, but had changed sides for one reason or another. Although the details are unclear, their defection was very likely motivated by mercenary reasons. One cleric’s “moderation was displayed in a September 2006 interview, in which he denied that President Bush, the United States, or Israel had declared war on Islam and stated that those now using the slogan of a ‘war against Islam’ were themselves not true Muslims.” (220) The Sahawat’s more sinister, imperialist-aligned character was coming into view.

To be continued

Coalition mugshot of Ibrahim Abdul-Karim Abdulaziz Zangana aka Umar Baziyani

NOTE: My warm thanks to Owen McKenna for first alerting me to Baziyani’s significance. He shared with me the Washington Institute report cited here, alongside a CENTCOM PowerPoint deck about JTJ, from which Baziyani’s mugshot was extracted.

Kurdish Jihadist History

A very obscure but important figure early on in the Zarqawist movement is the Iraqi Kurdish jihadist Umar Baziyani. He was an original member of Jama’at al-Tawhid wal-Jihad (JTJ), particularly its shura council, but he has largely been ignored in the movement’s own records. He mainly appears in (now quite difficult to find) documents from Ansar al-Islam, which identify him as a veteran of the Iraqi Kurdish jihadist movement. In one narrative, Umar Baziyani first comes to prominence amidst the fragmentation of the Kurdistan Islamic Movement (founded in 1987) during the 1990s. Some currents became mainstream Muslim Brotherhood-style Islamists while others held to the militant path. Over the next few years, these militant currents would undergo a somewhat convoluted process of merger and recomposition. One of them was the Path of Ibrahim group, which was headed by Baziyani, but soon went a series of mergers that eventually resulted in the formation of Jund al-Islam. Baziyani was the leader of one of three constituent groups that comprised Jund.

This organization was “the first Salafi jihadi group in Kurdistan comprehensively organized: and it had a military and Shari'i leadersip.” Its ranks included Arabs, and it even began receiving foreign fighters. Jund al-Islam publicly announced its existence in the final months of 1999 and established itself in the rural mountain countryside of Kurdistan. The only other Kurdish Islamist group at this time was the Qutbist-inclined Reform Association headed by Mullah Krekar. In 2001, both organizations merged to form Ansar al-Islam, which was publicly announced in December of that year. For the first time, there was now a single Kurdish Salafi Jihadist organization operating in Iraq. Aside from Kurds, its ranks included Iraqi Arabs from Baghdad and foreign Arabs from the Levant, Arabia, and veterans from Afghanistan. Umar Baziyani was one of Ansar’s commanders.

After the US invasion in March 2003, Ansar al-Islam began expanding into Arab regions of Iraq, which brought with it new Iraqi Arab recruits in its ranks. The group soon changed its name to Ansar al-Sunnah with many of the same old commanders, alongside new ones, who were primarily Arab foreign fighters. Among these was Abu Hamza al-Muhajir, who is identified in the narrative as Abu Abdul-Rahman al-Iraqi.1 Ansar al-Sunnah continued to spread in the northern and western Sunni Arab regions, but this expansion was undercut by the formation of Jama’at al-Tawhid wal-Jihad (JTJ) under Zarqawi’s leadership sometime in mid-2003. Many key Ansar commanders defected to JTJ. Baziyani was one of them and he became an original member of the JTJ shura council. Indeed, the narrative portrays Baziyani as one of JTJ’s founders, alongside Zarqawi and Abu Anas al-Shami. He was soon appointed as the emir of the Baghdad region, leading operations in the city and its belts until his arrest in May 2004, just one month after JTJ’s public announcement of its existence. Umar Baziyani was ultimately found guilty of “crimes against the internal security of the state” and was sentenced to death in late 2004.

Baziyani’s Revelations

During his detention, Baziyani revealed highly significant information about JTJ to his Coalition captors (although it is unclear why exactly he did this).2 First was that the Coalition interception and arrest of international Al Qaida operative Hassan Ghul in January 2004 broke JTJ’s connection to AQ Central. Strictly speaking, this was not true, as Zarqawi’s representative in Khorasan (Abu Ja’far al-Iraqi) met with Al Qaida leader Abu al-Faraj al-Libi to advocate formal merger.3 However, from Baziyani’s perspective, relations were severed. This did not disrupt JTJ’s operational capabilities, which were dispersed across nine regional emirs.

Translation of Daniele Raineri’s organization chart of JTJ c. 2004-05 – Daniele’s original chart is pasted at the end of this post.

The organization’s center was Fallujah, where Baziyani’s deputy was based. By the time of Baziyani’s arrest, the “Islamic Emirate of Fallujah” had already emerged.4 According to Abu Ja’far al-Iraqi’s report: “In Fallujah, where al-Tawhid wa-l-Jihad had established its headquarters, the jihadis enjoyed such power that they were the ones patrolling the city at night, allowing Iraqi police officers and soldiers to patrol during the day though these were accompanied by ‘the mujahidin.’”5

Baziyani himself was emir of Baghdad, and this position had already been filled in his absence. This replacement was likely Abu Muhammad al-Lubnani. Baziyani also identifies three regional emirs by name: Husayn Salim for Kurdistan, Abdullah Abu Azzam for Anbar, and Abu Talha for Mosul. Salim’s identity is unclear, but the other two emirs are clearly Abu Azzam al-Iraqi and Abu Talha al-Mosuli. The latter was one of the Ansar al-Sunnah commanders who defected to JTJ. He had originally been Ansar’s emir of Mosul, a position he kept in JTJ. Another major Ansar defector from Mosul was Abu Ala al-‘Afri aka Abu Ali al-Anbari, who was the sharia chief in Mosul and later the emir of the northern sector, particularly Ninawa and Kirkuk. Thus, by mid-2004, JTJ had a presence in all major arenas of Iraq, allowing it to orchestrate large attacks.

Baziyani identified the following operations as committed by JTJ: the bombing of the Jordanian embassy in Baghdad; the suicide boat bombing of the Basra oil terminal (implicitly confirming that it had been orchestrated in coordination with AQBH in Saudi Arabia, as revealed in Abu Anas al-Shami’s diary); bombings against Peshmerga in the north and against Iraqi police everywhere; and lastly the beheading of Nick Berg. He did not disclose the location of Berg’s beheading during his interrogation. This was later revealed to be in the Julan neighborhood of Fallujah. However, Baziyani did disclose that JTJ had its own special media wing, headed by a “Hassan Ibrahim,” supported by “Khadi Hassan” and “Adil.” These latter two individuals filmed and published the beheading of Nick Berg. Hassan Ibrahim seems to have been Abu Maysara al-Iraqi, whose biography identifies him as the leader of JTJ’s media. Either Khadi Hassan or Adil may have been Aqil al-Masri, identified as a key JTJ media operative.

Regarding JTJ’s command structure, Baziyani reported that Zarqawi commanded seven military leaders, who together led ~1,400 fighters throughout Iraq. Most were concentrated in Fallujah (500) and Mosul (400). The Fallujah emir was a leader called “Abu Nawas al-Falluji.” This may have been another name for Umar Hadid. JTJ was present elsewhere in Iraq, with 60 fighters in Anbar, 40 in Baghdad, and 80 in Diyala. Most fighters were native Iraqis and Kurds, not foreigners as commonly believed. Baziyani added that US operations in Fallujah in mid-2004 had forced JTJ leadership to disperse from the city. We know this from several different accounts, such as Abu Azzam al-Iraqi’s biography, which revealed that he sent regular reports to Zarqawi, who was outside the city (likely in Al Qaim). The dispersal led JTJ to establish and strengthen its presence elsewhere in Iraq.

According to Baziyani, one particularly important new hub was Samarra, which had become a major base of JTJ’s operations. US intelligence dismissed this as false or deceptive information from Baziyani, but it was in fact true. Iraqi intelligence services observed signs of “command and control in the Samarra area.” Further: “Abu Ja‘far told al-Libi that they had ‘complete control’ over Fallujah, Samarra, Baqubah and large parts of Ramadi.”6 This is also corroborated by Abu Azzam and Abu Anas al-Shami’s biographies, which revealed that both went across Sunni regions of Iraq to recruit local Iraqi groups and establish JTJ’s presence in various cities. Samarra is identified as an especially receptive city, as all local Iraqi groups reportedly joined JTJ.

In light of this, Baziyani’s tally of 1,400 fighters was likely deceptive. It seemed to exclude the membership of JTJ’s allied and affiliate groups, such as the Secret Islamic Army, which linked it to a reportedly 3,000-strong Iraqi jihadist organization called “Salafi Jihad.” Per AQ Central’s own information:

[Abu al-Faraj al-Libi] added that “most of the mujahid groups there have joined Abu Mus‘ab”, that these newcomers were bound by “a legal oath to wage jihad”, and that the number of these groups was increasing. “During the meeting I counted with [Abu Ja‘far] the number of members of the groups, which reached thousands, not including the supporters from other countries, and these figures are not exhaustive”, wrote al-Libi.7

Baziyani was thus understating the true extent JTJ’s footprint in Iraq. I personally estimate JTJ’s manpower in mid-2004 at ~3,500 – 4,000 operatives.

However, there is a caveat to JTJ’s reported manpower in Anbar, as it was not merely 60 fighters. Baziyani revealed that JTJ maintained a stronghold in Al Qaim with 150 fighters in the area. With the alleged personal support of Zarqawi himself, Al Qaim was a major station for armaments, money, and manpower sent by JTJ’s international supporters, who mainly operated on the ground in Syria. This country acted as JTJ’s rearguard and strategic depth. For instance, the military emir of Baghdad in mid-2004 entered Iraq through Syria. This individual is identified by Baziyani as “Abu Muhammad,” a Lebanese-Danish national, who was none other Abu Muhammad al-Lubnani. Many fighters in JTJ’s ranks were Syrian, including much of Zarqawi’s own entourage. Indeed, his deputy Abu Ja’far al-Iraqi boasted to AQ Central:

The Iraqi theater was also promising owing to the ease of access for volunteers from neighboring Arab countries. “The roads are open from Syria, Saudi Arabia, Kuwait and Jordan”, Abu Ja‘far explained, and large numbers of foreign volunteers were pouring in, so many “that the brothers were beginning to stop their influx” and send some back to their home countries.8

This highlights JTJ’s significant international connections from the Salafist International. Baziyani identifies support from jihadist networks in Iran as especially important. A JTJ operative identified as “Uthman” trafficked jihadist fighters to and from Iran and Baghdad after the invasion. Allegedly, Iran permitted Ansar al-Islam fighters to escape Iraq during the invasion itself and permitted their entry back into Iraq once the invasion was complete. This would highlight the Salafist International’s presence in Iran. Those same networks transported Zarqawi, Abu Hamza al-Muhajir, and many other major jihadists into Iraq from Iran.

Daniele Raineri’s Chart

Daniele made a minor written error here. Under Baziyani, he wrote “al-Janani” ( الجناني ) instead of “al-Lubnani” ( اللبناني ). Original posts:

The Abu Dulaf Mosque in Samarra, constructed by Abbasid Caliph al-Mutawakkil in 859 CE. Not to be confused with the Great Mosque of Samarra.

Analysis

On 26 February, 2007, Asharq al-Awsat published a piece by Iraqi journalist Haidar Najem1 reporting the disturbing extent of jihadist control of Samarra in Salahuddin Province. Despite its brevity, the report has many interesting details about the structure and operations of the Islamic State of Iraq (ISI) in the area. The Zarqawists officially declared the city an “Islamic Emirate,” one of several that together comprised ISI. Implicitly, this showed ISI’s caliphal ambitions, as the structure of the Caliphate has historically been local regions ruled by emirates that owe loyalty to the Caliph. This structure also subtly responded to jihadist criticisms that ISI should have been an “emirate” rather than a “state.” The Zarqawists evidently felt that the label of “emirate” suited only their local projects, as in Samarra.

Interestingly, locals distinguished between the jihadist forces operating in Samarra and ISI itself. They reported that citizens must pledge allegiance to either the jihadist groups or the “State,” suggesting some distinction between the two. This is an important data point but it requires contextualization. We know that the Zarqawist movement frequently worked with affiliate- or front-groups through its various iterations (JTJ, AQI, MSC). One notable case was the Secret Islamic Army, which, in 2004, was led by none other than Abu Muhammad al-Adnani (identified by name in US intelligence reports).2 This group functioned as an umbrella organization to facilitate cooperation between AQI and a powerful Iraqi Salafist Jihadist militia, pooling together thousands of fighters and international financing.3 It operated well into 2006, by that point under the leadership of Muhammad Hila Hammad al-Ubaydi (aka Abu Ayman), who operated in northern Babil Province and was arrested in mid-2006.

Abu Ayman

Another telling case is the village of Zaidon in early 2006. US intelligence found that the Zaidon insurgency was primarily led by three AQI associate groups–Jama’at Ali, Jama’at Abu Umar, and Jama’at Ajami–which were all controlled by “one of the top AQI facilitators in central Iraq.”4 Jumping ahead to 2010, one primary source confirmed the use of secret oaths between local groups and ISI. “A similar dynamic played out in April 2010 when a faction of Jaysh Abi Bakr as-Siddiq—a Salafi-Jihadist group with close links to Political Salafi groups—joined ISI. Controversy over the ISI claim led to an acknowledgement by the former that there had been negotiations with the recently deceased Abu Umar, and some members had secretly pledged allegiance to ISI.”5 The Samarra witness reports therefore bridges the time-gap between these other cases, suggesting that the use of front groups was still a regular tactic during the ISI period.

Something the Jaysh Abi Bakr as-Siddiq case reveals–and what is absent in the Samarra report–is the requirement for a specific loyalty oath. A key difference after the ISI declaration was that groups in its orbit were required to officially pledge loyalty (or bay’ah). Previously, this step was not necessary, especially if the groups had already been effectively subordinate through membership overlaps. In Samarra, ISI operatives must have viewed a pledge to local jihadist forces as equivalent to a direct pledge to ISI, as these forces were themselves pledged to the “State.” Such operational distinctions are obscured by the political alignment of the “Islamic Emirate of Samarra” to ISI.

Witness also reported that the jihadists arrived in force sometime in 2005 (one and a half years before 2007, as reported by a local). The date of their arrival conflicts with other reports–such as the biographies of Abu Azzam al-Iraqi or Abu Anas al-Shami–which state that the Zarqawists established their presence in Samarra in mid-2004. This is corroborated by detainee interrogations of Umar Baziyani, one of JTJ’s original members.6 Most of the leadership in 2007 allegedly consisted of Arab foreign fighters–Syria, Algeria, Egypt, and Yemen are identified by name. The rank-and-file in Samarra were said to be ex-regime and ex-Ba’ath Party elements. Interestingly, locals reported that the foreign fighters were received by “Iraqi tribesmen,” suggesting alliances with local tribal authorities. These tribes gave the jihadists several houses and large farmlands around the city to use as training camps, which in some cases were allegedly supervised by Arab veterans of Afghanistan. It seems that the rural belts of the city were under especially tight jihadist control.

That local tribesmen gave these properties to ISI–rather than ISI outright seizing them by force–shows a remarkable degree of ISI’s sway and appeal in society in Samarra. However, there was almost certainly some level of coercion involved, as witnesses reported that the jihadists took protection money from local businesses and professionals on threat of confiscation, alongside expulsion of the families. One witness reported that the jihadists even involved themselves in personal marital relations between husbands and wives. As one would expect, ISI imposed harsh restrictions on women, but surprisingly, they had even recruited local women to propagandize jihadist beliefs among other women and families.

Given all this, it is unsurprising that the security situation in Samarra was especially bleak. Local police reported that they and their families were threatened with murder if they did not resign from this positions. Entire neighborhoods were reportedly off-limits to Coalition forces for fear of intense ambushes and attacks. Although the Sahawat was growing at this stage, the Zarqawists were far from deterred, let alone defeated.

Iraqis Fleeing Samarra Say Extremists Control City

Baghdad, Asharq al-Awsat – A number of families have fled the city of Samarra, north of Baghdad, saying that if the government does not intervene, their city will end up like Kabul during the Taliban era.

The fleeing families say that extremists have renamed the city “the Islamic Emirate of Samarra,” which is one of the emirates of the Islamic State of Iraq, declared by Al-Qaeda in the Land of Two Rivers last year.

Abdul-Karim Sadi, 46, said: “We and our families have gradually fled our city leaving behind our possessions except for some money that will sustain us for a few months. The situation in Samarra and its suburbs has become intolerable because extremist groups have begun interfering in people’s private lives to the point of interfering in private relationships between husbands and wives.”

He pointed out that these groups “began arriving in Samarra specifically a year and a half ago. Most of their leaders hold [foreign] Arab citizenships, including Syrians, Algerians, Egyptians, and Yemenis, along with some Iraqi tribesmen who assist them and offer them facilities. These groups have been given houses and farms to turn them into training camps. They will train the sons of the city who refuse to join them so that they will force them to join them in the future by threatening to kill their families if they refuse.”

Muhannad al-Samarra’i, 31, a policeman in Samarra, said he received direct threats from these extremist groups to quit work for the police force in the city; otherwise, he will be killed along with his family if he continued to work with the government, which they described as collaborator. He added: “These groups are tightening their grip on the city and its people in the absence of government security establishments, which have weak presence, and only in the center of the city.” He said that “US forces look on what is happening in the city and on what those groups are doing without really intervening to eliminate them. US forces sometimes let these groups do what they want in the city and its helpless people.”

Muhannad al-Samarra’i’s wife, a mother of two, said: “These extremist groups have imposed particular conditions on women, such as wearing veil and robes.” The wife, who was born in Samarra in the 1970s, added: “These groups have recruited some women to propagate extremist ideas and beliefs among other women of the city. They employ these women to spread takfiri ideas against anyone who does not get affiliated with the Islamic State of Iraq and the Islamic Emirate.”

Muhannad al-Samarra’i stressed that the mujahidin organizations and the Islamic Army, which are linked to Al-Qaeda in the Land of the Two Rivers, “have extended their control throughout the city and its suburbs. There are large areas in the city where US forces cannot enter or even pass through after having been exposed to repeated assaults that inflicted big losses in lives and equipment.”

Raed al-Samarra’i, 33, Muhannad al-Samarra'i’s eldest brother, said that members of the security and intelligence services of the former Iraqi regime and of the Ba’ath Party have joined these extremist groups and work closely with them under a leader of an [foreign] Arab nationality. He added: “Families that do not declare their allegiance to the Islamic State of Iraq or to these groups and to those working with them face death, eviction, or the confiscation of their properties and estates.” He noted that these groups impose “protection money on shop owners and professionals on the pretext of aiding resistance attacks against US and Iraqi security forces. They attack even citizens who refuse to declare allegiance to the Islamic Emirate.”

Muhannad said that large areas of the farms around Samarra have been transformed into camps like those of Al-Qaeda and Taliban in Afghanistan. Arab fighters, who were trained in Afghanistan many years ago, supervise the new camps in Samarra. Other interlocuters agreed with Muhannad that the city of Samarra “is becoming like the Afghan cities of Qandahar and Kabul in the era of Taliban.” They said that “these groups will rule the city publicly unless the Iraqi government intervenes strongly and ends the existence of these groups and their shelters and eliminates any person or party that offers them support.”

Nuri al-Maliki, the leader of Shiite chauvinism in Iraq

By virtue of this page’s focus on Sunni jihadism, I primarily analyze Sunni sectarian and identitarian politics. Coming from a Sunni background, I consider it necessary to understand and combat malevolent political forces emerging from Sunni communities. However, this focus should not be interpreted as meaning that Shiite sectarianism is any less odious than its Sunni counterpart. These are twin forces that together rip apart the Middle East and elsewhere. Where the symbol of Sunni sectarianism is a car bomb blowing up a densely-packed shrine or market, the symbol of Shiite sectarianism may be the sectarian cleansing of Baghdad. Where the icon of Sunni identitarianism may be Abu Musab al-Zarqawi, the icon of Shiite identitarianism may be Nuri al-Maliki.

It is no exaggeration to say that Maliki has caused as much damage to Iraq and the region as did Zarqawi. Perhaps more than anyone else–save for Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi–this despicable creature of the post-2003 order is responsible for the Islamic State territorial sweep in 2014. He did so by leading and fanning the flames of what, in this excellent 2012 essay, Nibras Kazimi termed Shiite revanchist chauvinism. Despite his Atlanticist ideology, Kazimi correctly predicted that Maliki’s agenda would only bring Iraq to the nightmare of sectarian civil war, killing countless Iraqis, especially Shiites. In fact, he even predicted that the next round of sectarian conflict would make the 2006-08 period–commonly called the Iraqi sectarian civil war–pale in comparison. I was always puzzled why that period earned the title of “civil war” but not the Islamic State sweep of Iraq in 2014, when entire territories left Baghdad’s hands and two formal armies fought each other to the death. That earlier period seems “moderate” in this light. With that said, what Kazimi does not mention is that he himself also contributed to the growth of Shiite revanchist chauvinism in its earlier phases during the peak of the original Iraqi insurgency (2003-08). But leave that aside…

Despite its age, this piece is sadly still relevant today for two reasons. First is the lasting power of sectarianism in the Middle East. A Sunni sectarian government has taken power in Syria. Its majoritarian agenda is informed by the bitter sectarian warfare that killed many (primarily Sunni Arab) Syrians in the last fourteen years, and it is now settling scores against minorities. The presence of Sunni sectarianism invites Shiite sectarianism, and vice versa, with both creating vital air for the other. The mode of politics and the form of regime that Maliki created over a decade ago still persists in Iraq, although fortunately not to such a murderous extent anymore. This brings us to the second reason: Nuri al-Maliki’s ominous return to center-stage of Iraqi national politics. This sinister figure has once again been selected as the Prime Minister of Iraq, and it is necessary to understand what he did the last time that he occupied this position.

I want to express my warmest thanks to Iraqi_Footy on Twitter who kindly reached out to me to share his archive of Nibras Kazimi’s Arabic-language blog imarawatijara.com, from which this essay is extracted and translated. All footnotes below are my own insertions. Lastly, Kazimi wrote an equally insightful follow-up essay to this piece in 2016, which can be read here.

– Rob

Introduction

“Support the Mukhtar [Chosen One] of Our Time.”

This was proclaimed by one of the banners raised during the Arba’in pilgrimage to Karbala last January. The banner also featured a picture of Iraqi Prime Minister Nuri al-Maliki, referring to him as “the Mukhtar of Our Time,” alongside a picture of Iranian actor Fariborz Arbinia, who portrayed Mukhtar ibn Abi Ubaydah al-Thaqafi in a 40-episode series that premiered on Iranian state television in 2010.

Mukhtar al-Thaqafi, in the Shiite view, led the Tawwabin Revolt in 686 CE to avenge the death of Husayn ibn Ali. Mukhtar’s soldiers killed several of those who fought against Husayn at the Battle of Karbala, including Shimr ibn Dhi al-Jawshan, considered by Shiites to be the second most hated figure in history after Yazid ibn Muawiyah. Mukhtar supported Muhammad ibn al-Hanafiyya and claimed him as his Imam. Ibn al-Hanafiyya was the son of Imam Ali, but not of Fatimah, as his name indicates. However, there are indications in both Shiite and Sunni sources that Mukhtar was not welcomed by either Ibn al-Hanafiyya or Imam Ali Zayn al-Abidin. These historical details, however, are beyond the scope of this discussion.

I do not know if this banner was raised in Iraq or in one of the diaspora communities, as it is attributed to the residents of Zurbatiyah, a town southeast of Baghdad with a predominantly Feyli population. The Feyli Kurds, who are Shiite, suffered double discrimination–both ethnic and sectarian–during the Ba’ath Party’s rule, which deported hundreds of thousands of them to Iran under the pretext of their Persian affiliation, and disappeared tens of thousands of their young men in prisons, detention centers, and mass graves.

What message did the procession of the people of Zurbatiyah, whether they were in Iraq or abroad, want to convey with this banner?

The choice of the title “Chosen One of Our Time” to describe Nuri al-Maliki by his supporters, while his official media prefers to call him “Leader of the Stage,” prompts us to question the nature of this “time” or the features of this “stage” that require a new “Mukhtar,” or “Chosen One,” to lead it.

When retrieving figures and symbols from the Shiite past and introducing them into the current political lexicon, why was the figure of Mukhtar specifically chosen?

Iraq is witnessing a new political phenomenon: An emergent Shiite chauvinism. The banner above, with its slogan “Support the Chosen One of Our Time,” encapsulates many of the phenomenon’s early signs: Its leader and patron is Nuri al-Maliki, its aim is revenge against the enemies of Shiism, and its emergence coincided with the withdrawal of American forces and the Tariq al-Hashimi affair.1 One of its most prominent features is the revival of historical Shiite symbols, as if this phenomenon seeks to settle scores not only with Hashimi but with the enemies of Shiism throughout history. Its features are beginning to crystallize, some of which have blended with nationalist chauvinism to target the Kurds in addition to the Sunnis. Another feature is its interaction with the surrounding region as if there were a regional conspiracy against the Shiites, which Iraqi Shiites must confront militarily. It also contains within it a postponed intra-Shiite conflict, dividing Shiites themselves along regional and class lines.

This chauvinism, I believe, will tear Iraq apart after a brutal and devastating war between sects and ethnicities, leaving the Shiites isolated in a new country formed from the remnants of Iraq, managing their own affairs without regard for Sunni or Kurdish partners. Ultimately, this phenomenon will distort the essence of Shiism, turning the faith into a tool in a power struggle for influence and wealth, rather than a moral and ethical struggle against injustice and tyranny, especially after the Shiites themselves become the oppressors.

The Difference between Radicalism and Chauvinism

Why did I call it an “emergent Shiite chauvinism”? Chauvinism is a political term that has become synonymous with radicalism and fanaticism in belief and identity. However, Shiite history is replete with radicalism, and therefore we must distinguish between the traditional radicalism inherent in Shiism and chauvinism.

Throughout history, Shiite radicalism has always stemmed from the revolutionary spirit of the Shiites, a fundamentally political revolution directed against a ruling clique that was oppressive, tyrannical, and usurped power and wealth. However, this revolutionary tendency required rapid popular mobilization, and its proponents found that bestowing an excessive aura of sanctity and miracles upon Shiite saints and the elite of the sect would encourage the downtrodden to overcome their understandable fears when rising up against a powerful and tyrannical ruler. If the leaders of the revolution were considered divinely favored, this divine favor would compensate for the revolutionaries’ military and material weakness in confronting the state’s authority, and would bolster their ranks with legions of angels fighting under the banner of the revolution.

At a certain stage of this radical tendency, this revolutionary spirit merged with messianic, mystical, and esoteric beliefs, giving rise to numerous extremist sects within Shiism, such as the Kaysaniyya, the Ismailis (and all their diverse offshoots, including the Fatimid movement, Hassan al-Sabbah’s movement, the Qarmatians, and the Druze), and the Nusayris [sic].2 It then blended with the beliefs of other, non-Arab ethnicities, producing groups like the Khurramiyya, the Qizilbash, and the Kakai, among others. As a testament to the intensity of this radicalism, many of these sects have managed to survive and maintain their existence to this day, even after their banners were broken and they were subjected to repression and extermination at the hands of their enemies, both within and outside the Shiite sphere.

However, Twelver Shiism, which today enjoys numerical dominance over other Shiite sects, was formed and crystallized after the Safavids (a Kurdish Sufi and extremist dynasty, supported by their Turkish soldiers) seized power in Iran and established a ruling dynasty with expansionist and imperial ambitions. The Safavids consolidated their power by suppressing the revolutionary and messianic spirit within Shiism internally, while continuing to utilize it externally to expand their state and conquer the kingdoms of their enemies. Shiite revolutionary fervor poses a threat to the Shiite ruler, yet he still needs its capacity to mobilize the masses for his expansionist wars and to eliminate his rivals. In this endeavor, Shah Abbas I suppressed the extremist Nuqtawi movement, which had become a threat to his authority. His successors then “imported” scholars from Jabal Amil, followed by Allamah Majlisi, who continued their efforts to refine and purify Shiism, removing its extreme mystical elements, while simultaneously domesticating and neutralizing the Mahdist doctrine as a source of anxiety or threat against the Safavid Shiite ruler.

The inevitable result, centuries later, during the subsequent Qajar period–when Twelver Shiism regained its strength after the Safavids’ decline and the subsequent attempts to revive Sunni Islam in Iran–was the suppression of the Akhbari school, the containment of the Babi movement (the last major Mahdist movement), and the consolidation of the ruler’s power and influence. The ruler, in coordination with leading Twelver Shiite jurists, became the political representative of the Imam Mahdi during his occultation.

This means that the Twelver Shiites became the sect closest to Shiite authority, and when they assumed power, they distanced themselves from revolutionary, doctrinal, and mystical excesses, seeking instead to utilize and manipulate the doctrine–with its emotions, symbols, and fervor–for political, authoritarian, and strategic ends, particularly when the ruler was Shiite. This implies that the fusion of radical Shiism with politics produces an extreme Shiite chauvinism, distinct from the traditional, more socially radical aspects of Shiism.

If the ruler was Shiite, the principle of preserving and defending the faith was invoked to justify his cruelty and harshness. He was portrayed as being appointed by the Imam Mahdi to protect Shiism from both internal and external enemies of the faith. However, the inevitable result of such justifications is that they equate the enemies of the ruling Shah with the enemies of the faith itself, reducing the faith to the ruler. For the Safavid chauvinists, the external enemy was the expansionist Ottoman Empire, while the internal enemy consisted of extremist and unsettling Shiite movements (such as the Ismailis in Iran), as well as the resilient Sunni enclaves within the state. The Safavids, and the Qajars after them, pursued a policy aimed at containing internal enemies, sometimes through repression, and other times by forcibly converting them to Twelver Shiism. This policy did not only affect the extremist Shiites and Sunnis, but extended to other religions and sects, which, for example, led the Zoroastrians to migrate to India. In another example, this chauvinism was directed at the Jewish community in the city of Mashhad, especially since it is an “impure” community in the Shiite concept, while it lives in one of the holiest cities in Iran. Therefore, a royal decree was issued forcing them all to embrace the Islamic religion, with its Shiite sect, in 1839.

This indicates that Shiite chauvinism, harnessed to serve the Shiite ruler, will not hesitate to oppress a weak party under its authority in order to achieve the interests of the sect and the interests of the ruler, simultaneously, according to these historical precedents.

“Revanchism” or the Tendency towards Revenge in Politics

In political science, there is another term, “Revanchism,” which describes the vengeful tendencies of a political faction specifically mobilized to achieve this revenge. Revanchism is synonymous with chauvinism, and even reinforces it. It is also linked to a specific situation: The acquisition of some form of power and its use in the political struggle between competing identities vying for authority. The powerful have the option of forgiving when they have the power to do so, pardoning those who wronged them in the past. Or they have the option of revenge, which strengthens their power, because political revenge provides political mobilization, and its success will clear the field of rivals.

Shiite Mahdism has a vengeful dimension at the core of its doctrine. It has mobilized Shiites throughout the ages to revolt against the enemies of Shiism. When a Shiite calls out, “O Qaim, come to our aid,” he is looking forward to the appearance of the Mahdi to support him against those who oppress him and to avenge him, so that he may “fill the Earth with justice and equity after it has been filled with injustice and oppression.”

In the Shiite context, revanchism is Mahdism in its vengeful dimension but without the need for the Mahdi to appear. Thus, the responsibility for revenge falls on those who claim to be his agents, and on those of the Shiite elite who are ruling and powerful. The representatives of this privilege and status have changed much in the past five centuries, namely: the Safavids, then the Qajars, then the Velayat e Faqih with Khomeini’s “heresy,” and now the banner has passed to the Shiite leaders in the seat of power in Iraq.

Revanchism was the dominant political feature in the Iraqi political debate, starting with the collective Sunni hysteria that imagined that the Shiites (and the Kurds as well) had triumphed on 9 April, 2003 [referring to the collapse of the Ba’athist government – Rob], in order to launch an era of revenge against the Sunnis, despite the many reassuring messages from the Shiite and Kurdish political parties, and from the American sponsoring party, that the post-Saddam era would not be an era of revenge, but rather an era that witnessed many attempts to involve the Sunnis in the political process and in the new Iraq.

But recently, after the Sunnis overcame their hysteria and genuinely engaged in the political process since 2009, abandoning the tools of rebellion and insurrection in response to the events of 9 April, we are witnessing today a powerful and extremist Shiite phenomenon demanding revenge against the Sunnis (and the Kurds as well), and even authorizing the “Mukhtar of Our Time,” Mr. Maliki, to carry out this revenge. How did this happen?

How Did We Reach This Point?

Determining the historical and moral responsibility of those who brought us to this point is not the aim of this article. Who threw the first stone at whom, who unleashed the cycle of reciprocal action, and who bears the burden of the initial transgression, thus justifying the present with the concept of “the aggressor is the more unjust”–all these are diagnoses that will fall within the domain of future historians as they strive to unravel the mysteries of the past. Perhaps my recent dialogue with Dr. Dhafir al-Ani, often referred to as a “theorist of Sunni Islam,” which took place on Facebook (and was republished on this blog), serves as a first draft attempting to answer our question above: “How did we reach this point?”

Quoting from the end of the dialogue, which lasted for eight consecutive days, I find that the most important event that unleashed the newly formed Shiite chauvinism, with its revanchist vengeful tendencies, was the case of Mr. Vice President of the Republic, Tariq al-Hashimi.

The case of al-Hashimi, with its details, circumstances, and objectives, is not our topic here either, but we will pause to consider its impact on Shiite public opinion and how it caused this vengeful chauvinism to be unleashed among Shiites in general.

The question that concerns us here is, “Why this particular time?”

Why didn’t we witness its launch in the years 2003 (in August, when the Shiite political symbol Muhammad Baqir al-Hakim was assassinated in the Imam Ali Shrine), or 2004 (in March, when the Ashura bombings took place, one of them inside the holy shrine in Kadhimiya), or 2005 (in August, the al-A’immah Bridge incident), or 2006 (in February, when the al-Askari shrine in Samarra was razed to the ground)?

Yes, something of the Shiite revanchism emerged after the Samarra incident, represented by giving the Mahdi Army free rein to target Sunni civilians in Baghdad, Hilla and Diyala, even though the policy of the supreme religious authority, represented by Sayyid Ali al-Sistani, has always called for restraint and not being drawn into the vengeful tendency in the face of every provocative and major event, which would have threatened to ignite a comprehensive civil war between Sunnis and Shiites.

But even this revanchism in 2006 was curtailed after a while, and the Iraqi state, led by Nuri al-Maliki, suppressed it in Operation Charge of the Knights in March 2008, after the Mahdi Army had become a burden on the Shiite political and social body, and after the battle of Baghdad against Sunni extremists had been decided in 2007. This was accompanied by a new American policy aimed at increasing the number of its combat forces in Iraq, and creating buffer zones between Shiites and Sunnis in Baghdad and other areas behind concrete barriers.3

Perhaps the killing of Abu Musab al-Zarqawi by the Americans in June 2006, in the town of Hibhib, was an important factor that helped to quench some of the Shiite thirst for revenge.

Here we are faced with a question that is not easy to answer: Was the revenge postponed until the American deterrent was removed? Was this the reason behind Maliki’s withholding of information he had concerning Tariq al-Hashimi’s alleged “crimes” for three years, as he stated?

The Hashimi case, from the general Shiite perspective, hammered the final nail into the coffin of the idea of ​​coexistence between Sunnis and Shiites in Iraq, as it stripped the political process of its fig leaf in the collective Shiite mind and refuted the idea of ​​the existence of a “moderate and acceptable Sunni partner,” even if it was accepted reluctantly.

Of course, there are Sunnis who are acceptable to Shiites, but these were not chosen by Sunni voters. For example, Mr. Mithal al-Alusi, a moderate and liberal Sunni who advocates for Iraqi identity and the Iraqi “nation,” and who has a clear stance against the Ba’ath Party and against terrorism–a stance for which he paid a painful price with the death of his two sons–is the ideal Sunni partner in the eyes of the Shiites, who liked him. However, ultimately, he did not have a large number of Sunni votes and could not speak on behalf of the Sunnis, while Hashimi–whom the Shiites dislike for his fiery statements against them–alone garnered a quarter of a million votes in Baghdad Governorate in the last elections.

At least, from a Shiite perspective, Hashimi was easier and better than the other Sunni options and symbols, if compared to a person hated by Shiites, such as Dr. Salih al-Mutlaq, and the latter’s provocative chants in support of the Baath and whitewashing the Baath’s past, even though Mutlaq was married to a Shiite, and his spokesman, Sayyid Haydar al-Mulla, was also a Shiite.

Hashimi emerged from a Sunni political environment untainted by Ba’athism (the Muslim Brotherhood), and as a key figure in the Islamic Party, he had been involved in the political process since the days of the Governing Council. He is a descendant of a prominent Sunni family from Baghdad that has contributed many leading figures to the history of modern Iraq.

But if it was made to appear to them–that is, to the Shiite public opinion–through the official media, and through the accusations launched by Maliki and the judiciary behind him, that even this relatively acceptable Sunni leader, Tariq al-Hashimi, was killing, assassinating, and planting bombs, with purely sectarian motives, then that was a great shock to the Shiites, and it is difficult to overcome it, as it has eliminated the solution represented by working and agreeing with the “Sunni partner” for the sake of a “common Iraqi future.”

Meanwhile, the legend of Uthman al-Ubaydi, who drowned while trying to rescue Shiite victims in the Tigris River during the al-A’immah Bridge incident in 2004, somewhat soothed feelings at the time, especially with the official media focusing on his self-sacrifice for the sake of coexistence; and the legend of Nazhan al-Jaburi, who embraced the suicide bomber determined to target Shiite visitors in al-Bathaa during the last Arba’in–the same Arba’in when the banner “Support the Mukhtar of the Age” was raised–did not have the same impact in bringing the Revanchist genie back into its bottle, even temporarily.

Indeed, Shiite public opinion–stimulated and directed by official and partisan media–has come to view Tariq al-Hashimi as a figure who embodies all the enemies of the Shiites throughout history, from Umar ibn al-Khattab to Muawiyah to Yazid to Abu Ja’far al-Mansur to Salahuddin al-Ayyubi (who supposedly “killed the Shiites in their mothers’ wombs,” according to the Shiite view), to Sultan Yavuz Selim the Ottoman to Sati’ al-Husri to Saddam Husayn and to Abu Musab al-Zarqawi!

The cry, “O Avengers of Husayn,” has come to mean, “Bring us the head of Tariq al-Hashimi!”

Shiite Historical Revival in the Revanchist Endeavor

Here we must pause to consider this populist Shiite view of history, which views the past 1400 years as a long, uninterrupted series reflecting the oppression of the Shiites, which was summarized by the Sadrist MP Bahaa al-Araji in his statement: “The Shiites have been oppressed from the days of Abu Bakr al-Siddiq to Ahmad Hassan al-Bakr.”

Those who call for revenge for Husayn forget, or pretend to forget, that Mukhtar al-Thaqafi was permitted to behead a large number of those who killed Husayn. Those who call for vengeance also overlook the stance of Yazid’s son and his heir, Muawiyah II ibn Yazid, who abdicated out of regret and shame for what his father had done to the family of the Prophet. Likewise, it is forgotten that Umayyad rule lasted only one hundred years, ending with a revolution led by the descendants of Ibn Abbas. The result of this revolution was the desecration of Umayyad graves in Damascus and the Levant by the victors (except for the graves of Muawiyah II, mentioned earlier, and Caliph Umar ibn Abdul-Aziz, who put an end to the Umayyad policy of cursing Ali ibn Abi Talib from the pulpits), and the mutilation of their remains.

Those who call for revenge forget that the Abbasid Caliph al-Ma’mun intended to appoint Imam Ali ibn Musa al-Rida as his successor, and that coins were even minted in his name. They also forget that some Shiites became prominent and influential figures during the Abbasid era, beginning with the Barmakids and then the Buyids (who were the de facto military rulers during their reign), or that Ibn al-Alqami, the last vizier–the second most powerful figure in the state–under the last Abbasid caliph, was a Shiite. And can we forget the Abbasid Caliph al-Nassiruddin Allah–who revived the Abbasid state in its decline–whom both his own people and his enemies considered a Shiite due to his frequent favors towards them?

Where are we, when history has recorded the rise of many Shiite states? Where are we in relation to the Hamdanid state in Mosul and Aleppo, and the Banu Ammar state on the Levant coast, for example? Where are we in relation to the history of the Fatimid state in Egypt and North Africa?

And should we forget that the Ismaili movement was able to reach, twice, with its daggers, the one who ended the Fatimid state, Salahuddin al-Ayyubi, and left him, the second time, wounded?

Where do we stand from the Sunni perspective, which saw the attack of Timur and his Tatar army on Sunni cities, and the pyramids of skulls he left behind after conquering them, as “Shiite” revenge and anger?

And what about the rise of the Safavid state? Should we forget that too? Wasn’t that an act of revenge at a time when Sunnis constituted the majority of the population of Persia?

Where did this newly emerging Shiite perspective come from, which was expressed to me at the time by a Lebanese Shiite liberal, that 9 April, 2003 was the first historical response to what happened in Saqifa Bani Sa’ida?

Is there no upper limit to the “revenge” of Saqifa? Or will it last without end?

One of the leading Shiite thinkers in the 1970s coined the phrase, “Every day is Ashura, and every land is Karbala.” Those who repeat this saying today seem to misunderstand his meaning, as if all the events of the universe were reduced to that single battle. Was that day in 1928, when the Scottish scientist Alexander Fleming invented penicillin, considered an “Ashura”? Was that spot on the moon, where the American astronaut Neil Armstrong took his first steps, an extension of the land of “Karbala”?

Until when must this go on?

How do we understand this historical recollection that selects what suits it from history and its symbols, forgetting most of it, as if we are still in that first moment, when Imam Ali was wronged and his priority, in the Shiite perspective, was lost to him in ruling?

How do we understand the recent Shiite collective frenzy when Shaykh Ahmad al-Kubaysi (a Sunni) condemned Muawiyah ibn Abi Sufyan? The Shiite public’s response to this condemnation resembled a kind of rhetorical euphoria, akin to the proverb “a witness from among his own people testified,” or even gloating over the Sunnis’ misfortune, as if condemning Muawiyah were tantamount to condemning the entirety of Sunni history. What is the point of revisiting a period of history in this manner, as when Muawiyah emerged claiming vengeance for the blood of his murdered relative, Uthman ibn Affan, and demanding that Imam Ali hand over Uthman’s killers, who had sought refuge with him and were among his own followers? Is this an analysis of history, politics, and the power struggles of that time, or is it a revival of the past to settle present-day scores? Whose interests are served by summoning these spirits to judge and flog them? Is this all we are to understand from history? That “so-and-so was wrong and so-and-so was right, and therefore, after 1400 years, I am right and you are wrong”...? And then what? Will Kubaysi testify against Muawiyah at the International Criminal Court in The Hague? Will Interpol issue an arrest warrant for the Umayyads who are fugitives from justice?

Of course, the Sunnis have their own historical recollections, with a reductionism and selectivity similar to the Shiite selectivity, which has fueled their hysteria in understanding the present. They did not comprehend what happened on 9 April, 2003, except by linking the scene to the alleged betrayal of Ibn al-Alqami and his handing over (according to a weak and unconvincing narrative) the keys of Baghdad in 1258 to the Mongol leader Hulagu, which led to the last Abbasid Caliph being put in a sack and kicked to death, thus ending five centuries of the Abbasid Sultanate; or they [Sunnis] imagine that the Shiites who came to power were nothing but an extension of the Safavids, whose last ruler died three centuries ago.

Shiite Chauvinism: Between Maliki’s Political Goals, the American Withdrawal, and the Iranian Position

The Shiites responded politically to the events of 9 April, 2003, by closing ranks along sectarian lines, fearing two things: The feeling that the Shiites lacked self-confidence after decades of political marginalization and acquiescence to the status quo, and also that the Sunni side would not be satisfied with sharing power on the basis of population representation with them or with the Kurds, due to the arrogance of the Sunni political heritage and their belief in their right to rule.

From these two starting points, the characteristics of the Shiite political figures aligned with the great mobilization power of the religious authority in Najaf, and they came up with political frameworks such as the “Shiite House” to coordinate the Shiite negotiating position on complex matters such as the drafting of the transitional law, and then to run in the elections with large “Shiite” lists, to ensure the strength of the position, and to enhance self-confidence, when dealing with more complex matters such as the drafting of the constitution, or restoring the balance of sectarian representation in the executive state circles so that it would be commensurate with the numerical and electoral power of the Shiites.

This is normal in any transitional phase following a conflict framed by sectarian, religious and national identities, as was the case with the Iraqi political conflict since the establishment of the Iraqi state in 1921.

However, at a certain point, this apprehension shifted from a lack of trust to its opposite: An arrogance on the part of Shiite political forces. This led them to seize all the reins of power without regard for the Sunnis’ right to partnership. This approach was justified by the Sunnis’ initial refusal to participate in the political process and their subsequent continued rebellion against the New Iraq. Even after the Sunni political position matured and they realized they could not turn back the clock to the situation of April 8, 2003, Sunni leaders found no genuine intention among Shiite leaders to include them in the state. This time, the reason was not Shiite unity, but rather the tendency of a particular Shiite faction to monopolize power at the expense of other Shiite partners, as well as Sunnis and Kurds alike.

After the departure of the American patron and deterrent, Mr. Nuri al-Maliki attempted to seize control of all his partners to ensure that he and his party had the final say in managing the country and its resources. The writer Sarmad al-Ta’i likened this situation to Maliki closing the door and locking it, putting the key in his pocket, turning on the inhabitants with threats and warnings, and unbuckling his belt, ready to beat and whip them.

His overconfidence stemmed from the fact that the most powerful figure–the American guest–had left, leaving Maliki alone. At that moment, he held all military and security reins in his hands, becoming the most powerful man in Iraq. Thus, a combination of revanchism, military might, and an autocratic, singular desire for power converged, intoxicating him with power and the arrogance of victory. He used this victory to threaten anyone who stood in his way. By accusing his peer, Hashimi, Maliki unleashed a new wave of Shiite chauvinism. His media strategy for this accusation portrayed it as a final judgment in itself, even before the judiciary had examined the case. Maliki thereby strengthened his political position within the Shiite community by presenting himself–not his other Shiite partners–as the one who would deliver justice to the Shiites and avenge their enemies. He presented himself as the sole leader of the stage and the Chosen One [Mukhtar] of the age.

The irony lies in the fact that this “victory” was not achieved by Shiites themselves, nor was it based on a victory that they had wrested with their own hands.4 Rather, their circumstances changed due to the tanks of George W. Bush, even though some Shiite figures, like Ahmad Chalabi, played a pivotal role in instigating the war against Saddam Husayn. Instead of strengthening their ties with America, the superpower, the Shiites turned to Iran–the most powerful Shiite-majority country–as their ally and strong support, despite Iran’s power being insufficient to remove Saddam Husayn or the Taliban regime in Afghanistan in support of the Shiites. Furthermore, Iran disappointed the Shiites of Saudi Arabia and the Gulf after promising them, at the outset of the Iranian Revolution, that it was coming to liberate them.

What is surprising is that Iran does not derive its power from economics, science, or a military arsenal. Rather, its strength is built on intelligence, and its implicit threat is that it can mobilize cells and organizations across the Middle East to support it should it be threatened. In other words, Iran’s strategic power, and what makes it a significant regional player, is based on its continuous security networks with those who can carry out bombings, assassinations, or ignite conflicts anywhere in the region at its behest. However, even in this intelligence arena, Iran did not employ its intelligence capabilities to protect Iraqi Shiites from Al Qaida and other terrorists. Instead, it harnessed its security and sabotage capabilities to attack Americans in Iraq, thus disrupting those who were trying to bolster the already shaky Shiite political presence. At the same time, it sought to empower certain Shiite factions loyal to it at the expense of others, while the Shiite political situation demanded unity–a unity that Iran actively sought to fracture. Moreover, it did not seek to deter the Syrian regime, its ally and partner, from enabling terrorists in their war against the Shiites of Iraq.

So where was Iran when the Americans fought the First and Second Battles of Fallujah, and when they killed Zarqawi, and after him Abu Umar al-Baghdadi? Why didn’t any of the Shiite elites utter a word of thanks to America, while we see an Iraqi minister kissing the hand of the Iranian Supreme Leader?

Perhaps this lack of self-confidence is what led the ruling Shiite elite in Iraq to turn to Shiite Iran, rather than America, which had brought them to power. Those with such shaky confidence cannot ally themselves with the powerful “other,” but only find comfort in those who share their beliefs and origins.

The Americans left, and Iranian influence remained with the Shiite elite. But can we imagine that this newly emerged Shiite chauvinism is in Iran’s interest? Is what is happening part of an Iranian plan for a post-American Iraq?

Maliki deluded himself into thinking that he had Abrams tanks and Humvees left for him by the Americans. In the euphoria and arrogance of the moment of victory, he thought that it was time to settle the score with the others after the last “external” obstacles had been removed with the withdrawal of the last American soldier–the soldier who was originally responsible for saving the Shiites from the hegemony of the others.

In fact, Maliki went even further, trying to erase the American role of 9 April, firstly by canceling this date as an official holiday, and secondly by withdrawing the symbolism of this day from the scene of the tyrant’s statue being toppled in Firdaws Square by an American armored vehicle, to the symbolism of celebrating the day of the martyrdom of Mr. Muhammad Baqir al-Sadr, the founder of Maliki’s party, as an indication that 9 April, 2003, came as divine revenge for Saddam Husayn’s regime executing al-Sadr on the same day in 1979, thus reducing all the struggle–and the victory too–against Saddam to his party.

In my view, this newly emerged Shiite chauvinism, which Maliki is riding like a raging dragon, poses a fundamental threat to Iranian strategic policy, because it pits the world’s Shiites against the Sunnis globally, this time under Iraqi leadership and influence. This suggests that Iran may be losing control over Maliki and his intentions, indicating that the two countries have reached a crossroads in their strategic orientations.

The Islamic Revolution in Iran did not overthrow a Sunni ruler. In fact, the Shah of Iran, whom the revolution deposed, had borrowed Shiite symbolism to bolster his political legitimacy. His memoirs, published in the 1970s while he was still in power, are replete with Shiite mysticism, such as his claims of seeing Imam Ali and Abbas in his dreams, who, according to him, expressed their and the Ahlul-Bayt’s approval of him and his rule. In his style of governance, the Shah was extremely accommodating to the demands of the traditional Shiite religious establishment, particularly in its efforts to suppress the Baha’is and limit the spread of their faith. Even his wife, Farah Diba, exaggerated her veneration of Shiite shrines in Iran and Iraq.

Khomeini intended his revolution against the Shah to be Islamic, not Shiite, in order to appeal to the political sentiments of all sects. When he needed an enemy for himself and his revolution, he did not frame it within a purely Shiite view of history, but rather chose the West and its “arrogance” as his enemy, not Sunnis or Sunnism.

The Iranians continued their strategic project in this manner, and they harnessed the Lebanese Hizbullah organization–their most important regional creation–to ostensibly [sic] annoy Israel and not to fight the Sunnis of Lebanon. They supported it, just as they supported Sunni Palestinian Islamic organizations, in order to portray themselves to Muslims in the East and West as not being sectarian, in response to the media of Saddam’s regime and its allies in the Gulf, who portrayed Khomeini’s revolutionary endeavors as a revival of Persian imperialism, or a desire by the Magi to take revenge for the Arab Islamic conquest centuries ago. They accused Iran of seeking–through the establishment of Hizbullah, the support of the Shiites of the Gulf, and the support of the sectarian Alawite regime in Syria–to form a Shiite Crescent, which was completed, decades later, and by American action, with the collapse of Saddam Husayn’s regime, which was metaphorically considered “Sunni.”

There is a big difference between an Islamic Shiite revolution against a secular Shiite ruler close to the West, as happened in Iran three decades ago, and a reversal of the sectarian balance between Shiites and Sunnis, as happened in Iraq nine years ago.

The change that has occurred in Iraq has placed the Iranian leadership in a difficult position, as it is the strongest Shiite state, and has placed it before a great challenge: Can it reduce its ideological message and strategic existence to leading the Shiites of the world, and what this may entail in terms of a clash with the Sunni world? Or is it above sectarian considerations, and seeks to lead the entire Islamic world, as Khomeini wanted it to?

In my view, Iran is neither willing nor able to engage in a Shiite-Sunni conflict at this stage. It understands that Shiite aggression against Sunnis in Iraq would mobilize regional Sunni states, including Turkey–a powerful nation both economically and militarily, and one that is also making a strong return to the Middle East arena–against it. Iran is currently in a precarious economic position, facing a fragile domestic political situation and international isolation. Its allies in Syria and Hizbullah are also suffering from domestic isolation, and its entire strategy in the Levant could potentially collapse as a result. The situation cannot tolerate Maliki beating the drums of a retaliatory war, which would ignite a conflagration stretching from Baghdad east to west, and south to north.

The question remains: Can Iran, which is the influential party among the Shiites of Iraq, curb this newly emerging Shiite chauvinism, especially given the popular support this chauvinism enjoys among the Shiites of Iraq at this crucial moment in their history, and with Maliki wanting to invest this surging energy to perpetuate his rule and strengthen his authority and popularity?

Can she put this vengeful chauvinist genie back in its bottle?

The Three Features of the Newly Emergent Shiite Chauvinism

Three frameworks of newly formed Shiite chauvinism emerged, resulting from the mixing of victimhood with panic (from the Sunni rebellion) and then the introduction of a spirit of revenge mixed with the euphoria of power and authority:

- Absolute Shiite chauvinism against Sunnis, both within Iraq and its surrounding region: This chauvinism negates the legacy of Sunni moderation in general, which was peaceful, or at least conciliatory, towards Shiism at various periods in history (Sufism, Shafi’i, Hanafi, early Salafism, etc.). It views all Sunnis as Nawasib, meaning they harbor enmity towards the Ahl al-Bayt (the Prophet’s family), despite the immense cultural and civilizational output of Sunnis expressing love and praise for the Ahl al-Bayt, especially within powerful Sufi orders in Iraq such as the Qadiriyya order, or the Hanafi and Shafi’i schools of thought, to which most Iraqi Sunnis belong. Even the Ottoman state, which clashed with the Safavids and persecuted extremist Shiites, had extremist Shiite roots among its Ottoman founders. This cultural and religious legacy remained strongly present in the Bektashi Sufi order, which excessively venerated Imam Ali and the Twelve Imams, and to which the Janissaries, the most important Ottoman military corps, belonged.

This chauvinistic mindset views our world today as a conspiracy centered on Saudi Arabia and Qatar, failing to understand the actions of their rulers who seek to protect their own interests and those of their regimes. Instead, it sees their war against the Shiites in the new Iraq as stemming from a deep-seated ideological and sectarian hatred that can never be reconciled through the pursuit of common interests. Those who hold such a view see themselves as the embodiment of absolute good and the enemy as absolute evil. Consequently, the enemy is constantly conspiring against them, without any logical justification, because evil, in their view, needs no rational explanation to unleash its wickedness.

This pattern of thinking has another dimension: the neglect of the achievements and legacies of coexistence, during its peaceful periods, between Shiites and Sunnis in Iraq. This includes historical tribal intermingling and more recent family ties (since the 1950s), as well as shared commercial activities throughout history, joint political experience in liberal and leftist parties since the monarchy, and even friendships forged through interaction between Shiites and Sunnis in military service, academic pursuits, government jobs, or simply living in religiously mixed neighborhoods and towns. Indeed, many Shiites forget that their ancestors, until two centuries ago, were predominantly Sunni Muslims before converting to Shiism. Some even go so far as to ignore the fact that Saddam Husayn’s regime had many Shiite supporters, and that “Sunni” terrorism after 2003 had many victims among Sunnis, especially after 2007, that is, after the Sunni elite decided to participate in the political process and gradually move away from political violence.

Shiite chauvinism mixed with Arab nationalism

This is a form of discrimination that the Shiites have borrowed from the Arab nationalist chauvinism that Sunni sectarianism has adopted over many decades. Sunni sectarianism attempts to justify its own sectarianism by questioning the Arab identity of the Shiites, reducing their existence to Persian origins, or claiming they were brought from India in the first Islamic century. Now, this chauvinism has been reversed, and the Shiites are questioning the Arab identity of Tariq al-Hashimi, referring to him as Circassian or Turkish. They are also questioning the Arab identity of Sunni Iraqis in general, taunting them with non-Arab lineage that remains in Iraq after the Seljuk, Mamluk, and Ottoman armies passed through its land.

Finally, this kind of chauvinism was turned against the Kurds, the traditional allies of the Shiites against the Ba’ath regime. It even included a wish for the Kurds to secede from Iraq, so that the Shiites could have complete control over the country’s resources without sharing them with the Kurds. Overnight, fueled by accumulated Shiite resentment towards the Kurds for their success in developing their regions while Shiite areas remained neglected (and even their shared experience of being victims of Saddam), and as a result of Hashimi’s escape and refuge with the Kurds–whom he had also recently attacked–and for Maliki’s political and centralist aims, decades of mutual trust and shared struggle between the Shiites and Kurds were shattered. These bonds had been laid in the 1960s when the highest Shiite religious authority at the time, Sayyid Muhsin al-Hakim, forbade Shiites from fighting in the ranks of the Iraqi army against Kurdish rebels. This is evidence of the strength and impetus of the newly emerging Shiite chauvinism, which has turned a former ally into an enemy in just a few months. This has led to chauvinistic calls from some obscure politicians seeking to ride this wave of extremism, such as Mr. Abbas al-Muhammadawi, who recently threatened the Kurds living in Baghdad (some of whom have lived there for hundreds of years, and many of whom are Feyli Kurds, who are both Kurdish and Shiite), vowing to target them unless they leave the capital.

Regional and class-based chauvinism

This chauvinism is directed by some Shiites against other Shiites, reflecting an intra-Shiite clash that pits the Shiites of Baghdad, Hilla, Najaf, Karbala, Diwaniyah, and Basra (and the rural areas surrounding these cities) against the Shiites of Amarah, Nasiriyah, and Kut. It is a power struggle over money and influence, some aspects of which are now visible, while others are postponed until the battle with the Sunnis and Kurds is resolved. Even from what has become apparent in this conflict, it seems that the upper hand has already gone to those affiliated with Amarah, Nasiriyah, and Kut, with the highest executive and security positions in the state now bearing their tribal names (al-Saadi, al-Bahadli, al-Asadi, al-Sudani, etc.).

One manifestation of this regional chauvinism is the adoption by those originating from Amarah, Nasiriyah, and Kut of the terms “Ma’idi,” “Ma’dan,” or “Shrugi” [all akin to “hillbilly” or “hick” – Rob], using them with pride after they had previously carried negative connotations. Some have even gone so far as to fabricate Sumerian origins for themselves, attempting to link the Sumerian cultural heritage solely to the “Ma’dan,” despite the absence or even contradiction of historical evidence. It is as if their status as the original and oldest ethnic group in the country grants them priority in assuming power, at the expense of other Shiite groups of different origins.

This is similar to how Black people in America transformed the offensive slur “nigger”5 into a badge of pride and defiance, using it amongst themselves to signify shared oppression and experience. Some have even linked themselves to Pharaonic civilization, while others have claimed that Jesus was a Black man, just as the term “Ma’dan” has been transformed and Sumerian history rewritten to suit their desires. But woe to anyone who is not Black or of African descent and uses the term “nigger,” for in doing so, they are expressing their racism. The same applies to anyone who uses the term “Ma’dan” when they are not one of them. The irony is that Black people began this experience–the experience of reconstructing their identity after the throes of slavery and racial oppression–in the 1960s. This led, fifty years later, to the election of a Black American president, despite Black people constituting less than 9 percent of the American population.

However, the “Ma’dan” identity emerged with great fervor after the fall of Saddam Husayn’s regime. Within eight years, they held considerable power, leading to an identity crisis. They still speak with the pain of their perceived oppression, but their situation is now, compared to other Iraqis, much better. Many who consider themselves “Ma’dan” are now middle class, and neither they, nor their fathers, nor their grandfathers ever wielded a sickle. Many of them hold university degrees and government jobs.

Thus, the class distinction between them and the Shiite “other,” whom they see as complicit with the Sunnis in their oppression, became a distant memory, leaving only regional distinctions. Even the old class distinction, from the perspective of the “Ma’dan”–that their ancestors were downtrodden and exploited peasants by the bourgeois ancestors of the Shiite “other”–is a distorted distinction. There are “Ma’dan” whose ancestors were shaykhs, village chiefs, or Sayyids, and there are “others” whose ancestors were grocers, sweepers, laborers, or even peasants. But the “Ma’dan” sees his rising prominence as “revenge” against the other Shiites, whom he believes have historically harmed him.

What Are the Consequences and Results of this Newly Emergent Shiite Chauvinism?

The newly emergent Shiite chauvinism, with its central weapon and its sense of power and authority, will inevitably lead the country to fragmentation. This turmoil will only bring rivers of blood to the heart of Iraq. It is too late to address this chauvinism, as it has permeated the very core of the newly formed identity of Iraq’s Shiites. They compensated for their traditional lack of self-confidence with an excessive, and therefore extreme, confidence after the withdrawal of American forces–a confidence that is internally unstable and incapable of trusting any allies, whether temporary or permanent. This chauvinism sees only enemies in the world, and there is no room for compromise or reconciliation with others, because, in its view, the only available path is revenge, and swift revenge at that. This chauvinism, this poison, has entered the Shiite psyche, and such ideological and fanatical constructs do not leave the fabric of a people except after repeated defeats, a mountain of skulls, and the dissipation of the intoxication of delusion and arrogance. This means we are facing fifteen to twenty years of this wave, which Nuri al-Maliki ignited, unleashed, and exploited for his own political ends, now limited to clinging to power. Neither the Sunnis will submit to this tyranny, nor will the Kurds accept it. They have other options, in addition to their undeniable fighting capacity.

In the future [as during the IS sweep two years later – Rob], we will speak of the battles of Samarra, the battles of Khanaqin, the battles of Diyala, the battles west of Baghdad, and other sacrifices of young men marching–always marching–to achieve the glory of the leaders of sects and factions. After the separation between Sunnis, Shiites, and Kurds is complete, and after the tens of thousands who find themselves on the front lines and in the mingling of these groups perish, and after the lives of hundreds of thousands who are displaced or forced to emigrate are altered, the Shiites will sense significant internal contradictions among themselves, culminating in the triumph of a particular class and regional identity at the expense of all others. This is what I foresee.

Yes, it is a bleak and pessimistic view, but in my opinion, it is a logical conclusion given the ongoing crisis we are witnessing due to unwise and incompetent leadership in power. And who knows, perhaps this very scenario is what Maliki and his inner circle aspire to, because chauvinism is a hallmark of political shallowness, resorted to by failures, since mobilizing people based on their grudges is far easier than calling them to tolerance and reconstruction. But if the Sunni and Kurdish “deterrents” are removed, the arena will be left open to whoever wants to install himself as sultan over a smaller area of ​​this country, which he may call “Iraq of Husayn,” and he will find those who will cheer for his victory and leadership.

We stand at a crossroads in the fate of our country, Iraq, a crossroads that will determine its very existence. But I believe that extremism from all sides, and especially, and more recently, from the powerful Shiite extremists, armed with state funds and equipment, will have the final say in pursuing this bloody “solution.”

Political wisdom and shrewdness do not lie in instigating successive crises and distractions, but rather in managing contradictions, both new and old, especially those related to identity, in order to raise the overall standard of living and promote the common good. The issue is not as complex as we imagine–Iraq was on the path to stability and toward finding solutions to address these contradictions. However, the stumbling block in this path came from those who wanted to nullify all previous agreements and impose a single opinion as a solution to the country’s problems.

The conflicting identities at this stage cannot be attributed to the Kurds or the Sunnis. Most Sunnis chose to abandon the insurgency and the fight against the new reality in 2009 and came to the negotiating table–reluctantly, to be sure, but ultimately they did. The Kurds had historically preceded them in accepting the idea of ​​voluntary, equitable unity–that is, decentralized federalism–as a consolation prize for their failure to achieve the desired independence for which tens of thousands of their martyrs had fallen. They, too, reluctantly accepted this, but ultimately, they acquiesced and made concessions. The problem today lies with Nuri al-Maliki and the tendencies toward exclusivity, extremism, revenge, and centralism that he unleashes and promotes. I believe that the majority of Shiites have accepted and followed this path, as if the solution will come through the subjugation, submission, and humiliation of the Sunnis and Kurds.

In the tangible political reality, we see that Maliki’s popularity has become overwhelmingly Shiite, tipping the scales in his favor. This Shiite chauvinism has made the Prime Minister a far greater force in Shiite public opinion than the religious establishment or the moderate Shiite political parties. Maliki, his inner circle, and those whose political fates are intertwined with his are well aware of this. Their political objective has become to inflame these sentiments, which guarantees them political capital despite their administrative and security failures and the pervasive stench of corruption emanating from them. And they have succeeded in their endeavor.

Dictatorships typically arise when a political faction presents itself as strong and just, capable of ending chaos and anarchy. This faction usually arms itself with the legitimacy of the law, claiming that its sole aim is the strict application of the law. Thus, when the Italian dictator Benito Mussolini defined his new ideology, he called it the dictatorship of the law. The people supported him, believing he would achieve justice, avenge those responsible for the rampant political chaos in Italy at the time, and restore their country’s glory. Using the same deception, Maliki and his “State of Law” coalition present their new ideology–Shiite chauvinism–as one that seeks retribution, through law and the judiciary, against those who “killed Shiites,” avenges all who harmed them, and restores their rights and past glory. However, in return, the Shiites must grant Maliki the necessary power and authority and remove any obstacles hindering him from achieving this goal.

Some might argue that this rampant phenomenon is merely a passing fad, destined to subside politically, after which this chauvinism will fade. However, I disagree with this assessment of the scale of this phenomenon. I believe that if Maliki is removed from power, someone else will emerge to ride this wave in his place. I don’t imagine that things will simply return to calm once Maliki leaves office. A solid foundation for this extremism has been established, a breeding ground for thorns and bitterness, which Maliki and others will exploit for electoral gain, to instigate and revive crises, and to beat the drums of war. Because sectarian tensions are at this level, and sectarian mobilization is on this scale, it will be extremely difficult to defuse these combative charges peacefully, and it will inevitably lead to bloodshed and a descent into the abyss of a horrific civil war.

Here we must note two instances of inaction in addressing this phenomenon and the missed opportunity to contain it from its inception. The first instance of inaction in this crisis is attributed to Sayyid Ali al-Sistani, who previously guided the Shiites with his wisdom, steering them away from revenge and leading them to safety in the darkest of times. However, he was unable to prevent them from being dragged into the recklessness of politicians who exploited the specter of Shiite vengeance and sought to monopolize power. Yes, he expressed his displeasure with them by closing his door to them for over a year, but he failed to anticipate that a politician like Maliki had amassed such power and authority that he was neither afraid nor ashamed of the displeasure of a pillar of the new Iraq like Sayyid al-Sistani’s religious authority. This was a miscalculation of the new balance of power, and it was not accompanied by an attempt to correct the course. Now, it is too late.

The second shortcoming lies with the Shiite intellectual, who merely claimed to transcend sectarianism, openly refusing to discuss the debates surrounding sectarian identities, and paying no heed to the gravity of this conflict unfolding on the ground. He addressed it only by indulging in nostalgia for the past, recalling examples of coexistence, believing that in doing so he had fulfilled his duty and established his argument. Then he pulled the covers over himself and retreated into a world of dreams, while Al Qaida and the Mahdi Army were slaughtering people based on their identity. He failed to undertake the necessary and essential review of his reality and the recent past, which is his fundamental role when confronted with such a momentous event. With the exception of a few individuals, the typical Shiite intellectual shied away from the truth, speaking in generalities and avoiding calling things by their names, driven often by a legitimate fear of assassinations or bombs, or by a fear of losing his livelihood. However, this remains a historical failure for which he bears some responsibility for the consequences.6

Shiism, where to?

Perhaps what pains me most, as I witness this newly emerging phenomenon of Shiite chauvinism, is the moral damage this rampant and expanding phenomenon inflicts on the very essence and spirit of Shiism. For I understand the essence of Shiism, as I learned it from my forefathers, those who sacrificed everything to defend the faith and bore the burden of this civilizational and cultural legacy, this historical and political mission. The core of Shiism, its fundamental emotional value, lies in confronting injustice, cruelty, and tyranny. For them, Shiism was not a power struggle between families and clans over wealth and spoils. Rather, the Shiism they cherished was a struggle between the values ​​of supporting the oppressed and those whose shallow and opportunistic values ​​justified siding with the oppressor. For them, Shiism made the oppressed their brother, regardless of their religion, color, or title, and made the oppressor their enemy, even if the oppressor was truly their own brother. So how can we now explain to them that the requirements of preserving the doctrine necessitate our support for the oppressive, sectarian Ba’athist regime of Bashar al-Assad, simply because he belongs to one of the Shiite sects?

How did we lose sight of the essence of Shiism, so that supporting the sect became a reflection of our struggle for power and money?

Can we call ourselves Shiites if we are involved in injustice?

When we become oppressors, we lose the right to claim victimhood. And in this vengeful chauvinism lies great injustice, unfairness, and oppression against the other whom we believe has wronged us.

Perhaps democracy is the closest modern and universal model to the essence of Shiism, as I understand it. If Iraq were democratic, it could spread its influence by uniting its Shiites, Kurds, and Sunnis to liberate its surroundings from oppressors, and open capitals like Damascus, Tehran, and Riyadh in the name of democracy,7 and support the Shiites of Bahrain, the Kurds of Turkey, and the Sunnis of Syria all at once.

But this dream seems to have vanished, and today we stand before a nightmare of conflict and oppression that may last a long time. For this, unfortunately, is the era of the Leader of the Stage, the Chosen One [Mukhtar] of the Age.

My only remaining hope is that I am wrong in my pessimism, but my obsession with what is becoming increasingly inevitable has grown immense.8

Below is every part of Battle of the Confederates Under Siege by Abu Anas al-Shami. The diary tells the story of the First Battle of Fallujah from beginning to end. Much of the narrative discusses colorful battlefield heroics, but there are a number of key passages regarding Jama’at al-Tawhid wal-Jihad’s ideology (as expressed by Abu Anas), the leadership structure of JTJ in Fallujah, and the role the battle played in boosting JTJ’s ranks. The sub-headings below are my own, meant only to broadly summarize the content of the part in question.

1. Part 1: Introduction

2. Part 2: Apology for Immolation and the Battle Begins

3. Part 3: Zarqawi’s Cameo

4. Part 4: The Battle Continues

5. Part 5: Sufism vs. Salafism

6. Part 6: Origins of Salafism in Iraq

7. Part 7: King Abraha and Salafism

8. Part 8: A Strike in Basra and the Battle Ends

Mujahidin Shura Council fighters parade through the streets of Ramadi to celebrate the declaration of the Islamic State of Iraq

MSC’s Weaknesses

Amidst all the sign of AQI’s power in Anbar (and therefore Iraq), other signs indicated deeper problems in the organization. One was the continued absence of a top sharia official, which began with the death of Shaykh Abdul-Rahman on 7 June.

The absence of spiritual leadership may have hindered AQI’s decision-making process. Like Soviet commissars, religious leaders within groups like AQI ensured ideological purity and unity, and their absence could create at least temporary confusion over motivation and ultimate goals. In this particular instance, the result of no religious leadership within AQI was to prevent a reconciliation of AQI’s tactics with the global objectives of AQSL. (180)

This absence worsened the already significant ideological and strategic gaps between MSC and AQ Central. Since the beginning, AQC had urged the Iraqi jihadists to set aside sectarian warfare and create a popular movement against the Coalition. In contrast, the Iraqi jihadists had commenced the sectarian bloodletting from the very beginning, operating on strategically accelerationist logic. The absence also muddled the ideological response to the Sahawat, leading to confusion on how best to argue against this deeply threatening phenomenon while it was still nascent. The Study reports that MSC request AQC to send top sharia leaders to fill the gaps, but I am skeptical, as this would suggest that AQC was privy to the discussions leading up to the declaration of the Islamic State of Iraq (ISI). The evidence instead points to the opposite conclusion: That AQC had no knowledge of these discussions and found out about ISI on the same day that the whole world did. This will be discussed at great length below.

Another sign of MSC’s troubles was the recruitment of female fighters, particularly in Al Qaim and far western Anbar. Al Qaim had witnessed the first female suicide bombers, but this recent step was a significant escalation. Now, women were recruited as street-level combatants, such as in Anah, where a female branch fought in early October.

The decision to incorporate females into AQI was made by Zarqawi prior to his death, a decision that [REDACTED] supported and sought to exploit in order to use females as fighters, suicide bombers, and smuggling facilitators. AQI’s major limitation regarding its use of female operatives, however, lay in its ability to recruit them. While the use of female operatives by AQI remained relatively uncommon for this reason, they continued to be employed by the group as couriers and suicide bombers. (181)

Islamic law and Arab customs prohibit women from partaking in warfare as combatants, so this move would suggest that AQI was growing desperate in its recruitment. The lack of male recruits would have encouraged local leadership to expand the recruit pool to women. It would also reflect a growing ultra-extremism in the organization, further alienating it from its Sunni base.

Yet perhaps the most disturbing indication of MSC’s internal troubles was the use of child soldiers. Since early 2006, MSC and other insurgent groups had recruited children for minor tasks, such as planting IEDs. By October 2006, this had escalated into regular visits by AQI to high schools throughout Anbar to recruit teenagers as insurgents. The jihadists targeted impoverished youth who would be most susceptible to financial incentives.

AQI recruiting efforts for these teenagers included paying them a lump sum of $27 per operation with the option of earning a monthly salary of up to $400. This recruitment may have been motivated by the belief that the Coalition would not suspect that teenagers would be assisting AQI, but it may also have been another indication of weakness, since recruiting children for operations is typically a sign of poor recruitment of military aged males within an insurgency. To ensure the compliance of the recruits, AQI operatives intimidated and coerced members of their family if they did not comply with their assigned tasks. For instance, AQI coerced the student body and faculty of a Ramadi high school into leaving the school in order to create a greater pool of teenagers from which to recruit. (181)

Teenagers were typically assigned to minor tasks, such as lookout, surveillance, or IED planting. It is worth treating the Study’s narrative with caution, as the author almost certainly seeks to preemptively justify incidents of Coalition soldiers murdering children with the pretext that these children were used by the insurgency. At the same time, MSC’s ideological extremism had reached profoundly depraved heights. In the most hideous cases, AQI deceived or coerced teenagers to become suicide bombers. There are reports of youths from Fallujah or Ramadi being sent as bombers to Mosul and Baghdad. “Some Iraqi AQI members were even radicalized enough to recruit their own children to use as suicide bombers. While the examples of the latter occurring were rare and extreme cases, they underscored the level of religious extremism that was now dominant within the membership of AQI.” (181-82) One can see why many Sunnis in Anbar were growing to view AQI as the greatest threat to their lives.

It is notable that two years later, in 2008, Islamic State co-leader Abu Hamza al-Muhajir gave an interview, in which he categorically denied any use of female or child soldiers.1 His answer is quite revealing:

This is a blatant lie. As for children, it is impossible for us to accept into the ranks of our army someone who has not reached the age of puberty. As for women, the ruling on female jihad in defensive jihad is well-known. Nevertheless, the Commander of the Faithful has declared over and over again that it is not permissible for a woman to carry out a martyrdom operation, except in circumstances where men are unable to, provided that her faith is sound and her honor is safe from the slightest harm, taking exaggerated precautions necessary to ensure this is secured.

That Muhajir felt it necessary to deny the use of child soldiers highlights his glaring insecurity on this point, suggesting there was some truth to it. Equally telling is that he admits to using women as fighters, with the added admission that this only took place where the organization failed to recruit enough men. Although the interview was two years after the events described above, it retroactively reveals a great deal about the group.

Developments in the Sahawat

In early October, the Anbar Emergency Council renamed itself the Sahwa al-Anbar (SAA) or “the Anbar Awakening.” From this point onward, the movement would be officially called the Sahawat, though we have used this label from the start of the movement as such. The Sahawat continued their efforts to gain official support from the Iraqi national government, but Prime Minister Nuri al-Maliki continued to rebuff them.

He and other top government officials attempted to form another tribal council from the Iraqi Islamic Party (IIP), which was much easier to control from Baghdad. The Sahawat expressed their displeasure with Maliki in a letter, stating they did not seek to link with the IIP or to partake in politics in general. Their only stated goal was to fight MSC. Yet this was not exactly true, as they (not unjustly) saw “Governor Mamoun and the Anbar provincial government as only slightly less of a menace to Anbari society as that posed by AQI.” (182) When Maliki finally met with Sahwa representatives, he astonishingly claimed that security forces were winning across Anbar, Ramadi’s public services were functioning, and AQI was being steadily expelled from the city. None of this was remotely true, but it reflected the extent to which Maliki preferred to live in a world of delusions than deal with Sunni political forces that were not to his liking. The whole episode portended Maliki’s constant sabotaging and eventual betrayal of the Sahawat, leading to the 2014 Islamic State sweep.2

Despite such tensions, the Coalition facilitated rapprochement between the Sahawat and the Iraqi national government on the basis of their shared interest in MSC’s defeat. On 10 October, there was a meeting where Shaykh Sattar Abu Risha (head of the Sahawat) and Anbar Governor Mamoun (representing the Iraqi government) publicly reconciled and formed an agreement to cooperate on reconstruction and security efforts. This encouraged the police forces, many of whom had feared an imminent political split that may lead police officers to side with the Sahawat over the government. In parallel to negotiations, the Sahawat continued to deal blows to AQI. On the same day as the meeting, Sahwa fighters killed several AQI operatives, seized an arms cache, and gave it to the Coalition. Two days later, on 12 October, Sahwa fighters successfully attacked an AQI patrol on Ramadi highway, capturing thirteen operatives and eight stolen trucks.

These successes inspired tribes in other provinces to “Awaken,” either forming their own anti-AQI militias or outright joining the Sahawat. Several of these militias had formed from the police, which was slowly transforming into a robust counter-insurgent force, while the Iraqi Army continued to be inept. Many tribes began flocking to the Sahawat of their own initiative. This was the case near the Walid border crossing, where three prominent local tribes said that “they were willing to do everything in their power” to fight AQI. (184) Accordingly, the Sahawat formed a branch in Rutbah and issued threats to local AQI members in a startling contrast to prior years. The “Awakening” soon reached the highest levels of Anbari police, with senior Sahwa leader Brigadier General Hamid Hamad al-Shawqa being appointed Anbar provincial police chief in early October. Although the appointment was only provisional, this was a significant political victory for the movement, as it represented both their further legitimization and true representation in the post-2003 Anbari government.

The Sahawat wasted no time in consolidating this growing support. It again reached out to the Anbar Central Council, and the two agreed to meet in early November for further negotiations. In a clever move, the Sahawat also began facilitating surrenders of AQI fighters:

With one of their leaders now in charge of Anbar police, the Anbar Revolutionaries began setting up a mechanism under which AQI members could surrender to authorities by turning themselves in at the Jazira police station, giving up their weapons, and returning to their homes with the understanding that they would not be given a second chance to surrender if they were encountered again on the battlefield. The Jazira police personnel were all drawn from the Albu Assaf, Albu Ali Jassim, and Albu Dhiab tribes, all of which were represented in the SAA. (185)

The official integration of the tribes into the police gave it much-needed popular legitimacy and standing. Sahwa fighters soon began operating as auxiliary police, in one case threatening to kill anyone who moved Coalition checkpoints. They encouraged Ramadi residents to collaborate with the Coalition. On the one hand, this would assist the Coalition’s war on MSC, and on the other hand, it would ingratiate the Sahawat as valuable partners to the Coalition. To further contrast itself from AQI, the Sahawat arrested and handed over AQI operatives, instead of killing them on sight. This gave it the aura of a legitimate police authority rather than a rival insurgent paramilitary. MSC’s long list of abuses and usurpation of tribal authority was finally having consequences.

Another sign of MSC’s waning fortunes was Ansar al-Sunnah’s renewed distance from the organization. This was precipitated by two events in Haditha. First was the theft of Ansar al-Sunnah arms, ammunition, and money by AQI operatives. Second was a meeting between Ansar and AQI local leadership, where the AQI representatives behaved extremely arrogantly, alienating their Ansar counterparts. By early October, several top Ansar leaders wrote a letter denouncing AQI as ultra-extremists, leading to loss of public support. Most shockingly, several Ansar leaders attempted to open negotiations with the Coalition, whom they now saw as a lesser evil compared to Iran. One of these leaders was a known AQI opponent, having produced a “formal study as far back as 2004 intended to document the evils of working with AQI.” (187) Relations between AQI and Ansar al-Sunnah were effectively destroyed in the Haditha area.

MSC’s Cross-Province Ties

And yet, despite all the signs indicating MSC’s weaknesses, the organization continued to operate at will not only across Anbar but throughout Sunni Iraq and even Shiite regions in the South. The campaign was most intense in the north of the country, particularly Salahuddin Province:

There were strong ties between the AQI organizations in Anbar and Salahaddin province. Much the profit made off of oil smuggled from the Bayji refinery and sold on the Anbar black market was used to finance VBIED attacks in both Anbar and Salahaddin. AQI senior leader [REDACTED]’s network spanned all the way from al-Qaim into Haditha, Bayji, and Kirkuk. The AQI presence in Kirkuk was supported by AQI networks in Anbar that extended into [Syria], Salahaddin, and al-Tamim. AQI leader [REDACTED] also continued to maintain his network of contacts with other cell leaders in Salahaddin.

The AQI network based in Anbar stretched across Salahaddin, al-Tamim, and Nineveh provinces. This network enabled fighters to transit rapidly from one area to another with little difficulty. For instance, in response to Operation RIVERGATE AQI shifted from Hit to Bayji and the small villages north of Lake Thar Thar in order to escape Coalition pressure. AQI leaders were also able to transit rapidly between Rutbah, Ramadi, Haditha and Bayji. After Coalition pressure was reduced, the AQI fighters generally returned to their point of origin. Following the Askariyya bombing, AQI fighters traveled to Baghdad province in an effort to support other AQI and other Sunni elements fighting against Muqtada al-Sadr’s Mahdi Army. (188)

During this time, the Mahdi Army was also waging an offensive in Salahuddin, alarming AQI leadership in Baghdad. They feared that their supply lines would be cut off and the Baghdad branch would be encircled. To preempt this, AQI deployed hardened fighters from Anbar and Ninawa to fight the Mahdi Army in Salahuddin. The brutal sectarian persecution of Sunnis in southern Iraq also created communities amenable to AQI:

AQI also relied on smugglers from the Shurayfat and Zagharid tribes to bring weapons into the province from An Najaf and Karbala through Rahaliyah. From Rahaliyah, the weapons were smuggled by boat across Lake Razzazah (Bahr al-Milh) to Ramadi. AQI’s reliance on smugglers in southern Iraq was due to the fact that the group’s traditional smuggling routes in western Anbar were becoming increasingly problematic for its networks in eastern Anbar and western Baghdad, forcing them to rely instead on the northern route through Nineveh province. As a result, AQI cells in Fallujah and Ramadi were forced to supplement their operational support using smuggled supplies and fighters from Najaf and Karbala provinces. (188)

Almost a decade later, southern fighters would be well-represented in Islamic State ranks, reflecting the lingering effects of sectarian violence in this region.

The State Is Declared

Celebration
However, nothing better symbolized MSC’s belief in its absolute victory than the declaration of the Islamic State of Iraq (ISI) on 15 October, 2006. This was preceded by the announcement of the Hilf al-Mutayyibin (“Alliance of the Perfumed Ones”) on 12 October, which politically united MSC, Jund al-Sahaba, Saraya Ansar al-Tawhid wal-Sunnah, and six Sunni tribes. Upon the declaration of the “State,” the tribes were integrated through the newly-created Central Tribal Council, by which ISI gained the official bay’ah, or loyalty pledge, of tribal authorities. Of the six pledged tribes, the most important were the Albu ‘Ubayd, Albu Fahd, and Albu Farraj. The inclusion of the Albu Fahd was most troubling, as prominent members of this tribe had been key supporters of the Sahawat and the political process, which was now undermined. In addition to these tribes, ISI had the loyalty of many individual tribal leaders throughout Anbar, Ninawa, and other predominantly Sunni regions. All were motivated out of fear of ISI or the belief that they would gain ISI’s financial and material support, reflecting ISI’s alarmingly deep influence in Sunni Iraqi society.

The public ceremonies celebrating ISI’s establishment are extremely revealing of this “State’s” authority in many parts of Anbar:

On October 18, to celebrate the creation of the Amirate [sic], AQI fighters and supporters dressed in white held rallies throughout Ramadi, hosting demonstrations at a number of mosques and at Anbar University. […] AQI also organized demonstrations in support of the new Amirate in Haditha, Haqlaniyah, Bani Dahir, Rawah, and Rutbah, with additional demonstrations planned for Fallujah and Amariyah. In Rutbah, the AQI demonstration was particularly geared towards responding to a threat from the Anbar Revolutionaries that AQI fighters should leave the town or they would be killed. At every demonstration a statement from the Mujahideen Shura Council was read, demanding that the Coalition withdraw from Iraq immediately. (190)

In the spirit of “celebration,” ISI issued public statements to its enemies, urging them to “repent.” A flyer recovered from Baghdadi read:

To those who joined the police and sold their religion and faith for petty drachmas, and are content to be bound to serve the Americans, who killed our Muslim brothers. To whoever has become a shield for them against the mujahedin, to the traitors and renegades, to those who joined the Islamic Party, to all who accept contracts against them, we warn you in the precious month (Ramadan) to turn to God and ask forgiveness and penitence, turning to the mujahedin’s amir, Sheikh Abu Hamza al-Muhajir, for whom we ask victory from God. Your penitence is more interesting to us than killing you. (191)

ISI demonstration in the western regions of Anbar were especially concerning:

For Haditha residents, the declaration of the Islamic Amirate of Iraq was announced on local television and radio stations followed by celebratory gunfire. In the days that followed the announcement, AQI fighters armed with AK-47s distributed chocolates and bottles of Pepsi-Cola to residents in Bani Dahir, telling them to celebrate the formation of a Sunni Islamic state.

All the AQI parades and demonstrations in Ramadi, Haditha, Haqlaniyah, Bani Dahir, Rawah, and Rutbah encountered no resistance from the Iraqi police, the Coalition, or the general population. Not only did this further intimidate the general population, but it also increased the confidence of AQI fighters by showing the group’s ability to organize demonstrations even in areas where police or other anti-AQI groups were known to be active. (191)

In Ramadi on October 18-22, further parades were held, which each lasted for several hours. In the areas under its influence, ISI had already established, or was in the process of establishing, sharia courts to legally administer its territories as a “state” would. One regional sharia court in Haqlaniyah was representative. It is worth quoting the Study at length:

All its documents were written in an official and legalistic tone in an effort to establish the court’s legitimacy as a sanctioned body within the Islamic Amirate of Iraq. Information gathered by AQI’s internal security wing on alleged apostates, police, and others who gained employment with the Coalition were presented to a qadi (religious judge) who then determined the proper hadd punishment. Sentences in the recovered documents range from intimidation to kidnapping to assassination. The shari’ah court was primarily concerned with “traitors,” i.e. those working for the Coalition or who were believed to be giving information on AQI activity to the Coalition. Of secondary concern to the court was the issue of apostasy: those who did not conform to the qadis’ views of how Muslims should act under shari’ah. One result of this concern was that women in Barwanah began to wear the niqab like their counterparts in Haditha and Haqlaniyah.

Among those who were considered apostates were individuals who acted in the name of jihad either as a cover for criminal activity or without proper authorization from AQI. The courts concerned themselves too with political parties that it believed held objectionable ideologies. Non-Salafist political parties had the potential to rally public opinion and as such had to be monitored by AQI’s internal security wing. Not surprisingly, this shari’ah regime resulted in an increase in assassinations against the Haditha police force. Twenty-nine officers were killed between September 23 and October 7 even before the declaration of the Islamic Amirate of Iraq. All these efforts were intended to set the stage for the creation of a totalitarian Salafist theocracy as soon as the Coalition withdrew from Iraq. (192-93)

Indeed, ISI leadership had far more radical ambitions than a mere theocracy in Iraq. They intended to restore the caliphate; and the newly-formed polity that had been celebrated in the streets of Ramadi, Haditha, and so many other cities was precisely this reborn caliphate.

Revolution
Politically, the formation of ISI was a profoundly revolutionary step in the global jihadist movement.3 In the Study, the author mistakenly calls it an “amirate,” or Imarah, which downplays the significance of the declaration. In reality, this was a “state,” or Dawlah, which carried caliphal connotations.

The creators of the Islamic State of Iraq understood it as the most ambitious jihadist venture to date. They could, they believed, lay claim to the leadership of the global jihadist movement, since they had surpassed in scope, purpose, and martial triumph the generation of jihadists that came before them, including bin Laden. Among other things, they believed that their state would elevate the Islamic struggle against the West to a new level of confrontation: rather than have disparate groups of jihadists retaliating against Western targets by terrorist means, the Islamic State of Iraq would confront its foes as would an emerging empire—and in the same fashion as the early Islamic conquests. Moreover, defeating the United States, the world’s mightiest military and economic power, on the battlefield of Iraq was to be the harbinger of even greater victories for Islam.4

It is notable that the first leader of this “State,” Abu Umar al-Baghdadi (real name Hamid Dawud al-Zawi), was awarded the title of amir al-muminin (“commander of the faithful”) while Usama bin Ladin was subtly demoted with the title of shaykh al-mujahidin (“leader of the mujahidin”). By declaring the “State,” the jihadists in Iraq made two steps in one. First, they had quietly usurped Al Qaida Central as the vanguard of the global jihadist movement. Second, and even more provocatively, they had radically broken with established Sunni precedent regarding the caliphate. ISI preemptively responded to critics in a publication, titled ‘Alam al-Anam bi Milad al-Dawlat al-Islam (Informing the People about the Birth of the Islamic State), wherein the anonymous jihadist author made the case for restoring the caliphate. This case was in dialogue with established Islamist discourse on the caliphate.

In historical Sunni jurisprudence, the selection of the caliph is the task of the ahlul-hal wal-‘aqd (“those who loose and bind”), a committee of the global Muslim community’s, or Ummah’s, most influential leaders. To over-simplify, approval from the majority of the ahlul-hal wal-‘aqd suffices to appoint a caliph. However, since the abolition of the Ottoman Caliphate in 1924, the Muslim world has been politically divided regions, which are either subject to imperialist aggression (e.g., Iraq, Afghanistan, or Palestine) or aligned to a Western great power (e.g., Saudi Arabia). In light of this, none of the established methods for selecting the caliph are practical. It was here that most historical Islamists halted their quest for the caliphate. For who would comprise the ahlul-hal wal-‘aqd and who would be the caliph? These Islamists realized that any answer to these questions–and therefore any attempt at the caliphate–would be far too politically controversial and fractious. They, therefore, opted to defer restoring the caliphate until a later point when the Muslim world was sufficiently powerful.

However, author of ‘Alam al-Anam took another, much more striking path: He devised an entirely new logic of selection. Alongside traditional methods of selecting the caliph, he first added another dimension:

The starting point that the mujahidin employed in their declaration of [the Islamic State of Iraq] was a compounded mixture of religious facts derived from the [Quran] and the sunna [together] with realistic and political outlooks borne out by experience and practice.5

As Nibras Kazimi rightly observes, this emphasis on practical necessity and political realism was a revolutionary departure by ISI from Sunni juridical precedent. The author of ‘Alam al-Anam then went further and arrogated to the jihadists the title of ahlul-hal wal-‘aqd, thus evading the awkward debate entirely and declaring his movement the unequivocal vanguard. He did so on the basis that the jihadists were fighting for the cosmic victory of Islam and were therefore the leaders of the Ummah. In doing so, the jihadist author formally demotes Sunni clerics, subordinating them to jihadist fighters, whose authority is derived from and justified by their battlefield prowess. He inherited this position from Abu Musab al-Zarqawi and Abu Anas al-Shami, who both forcefully argued that the validity of doctrine was tested in combat, not theological arguments.6

Having established the “caliphate,” the author of ‘Alam al-Anam lists its key duties. The most basic and essential is establishing sharia, proselytizing Islam by word and by sword, fight for Muslims wherever they are under (perceived) attack, collect taxes, and other administrative tasks. The author boasts that the jihadists in Iraq had already accomplished all of this, making the Sunni regions of Iraq the “most monotheistic” in the world due to the “blessed rule of sharia.” But this raises as question, as aptly observed by Kazimi:

Yet if Islam was being promoted by the jihadists even before their declaration of the Islamic State, one wonders about their motivation for forging ahead with the caliphate venture any way. In a sense, the jihadists in Iraq had turned things around: the empowerment of Islam was the means to the state. The decades-long quest for the caliphate had turned the idea of the state, rather than its function, into something of a jihadist fetish, a longing that the jihadists were overeager to gratify.

Kazimi mistakenly downplays an even more important dimension: The drive to lead global jihadism as such. Despite both being jihadists, the Zarqawists were profoundly different from AQ Central. As discussed elsewhere, they emerged from and belonged to entirely separate jihadist traditions. Several figures among the Zarqawists had always chafed under AQ. The “State,” therefore, permitted them to supersede this authority, though they continued to disagree with the manner by which relations between ISI and AQC were continued. This ambiguity led many within and outside of the jihadist movement to wrongly assume ISI was merely a new face for the AQ project in Iraq.

For this reason, it was unclear for several years whether the declaration of ISI originated in AQ Central or in AQI.7 The author of the Study argues the former on the grounds that the formation of ISI fulfilled two goals: (1) it fully “Iraqified” AQ’s local branch; and (2) it formalized AQI’s major advances, setting the ground for AQ’s territorial takeover in the Middle East. In 2011, Brian Fishman argued similarly.8 In contrast, in 2008, Nibras Kazimi argued that the move was entirely local and presented the global jihadist movement, including AQ Central, with a fait accompli: the Caliphate-in-Making. “They thereby captured the imagination of a new generation of jihadists who were already enthralled by the alleged victories of the Zarqawists in Iraq.”9 I agree with Kazimi’s interpretation due to the distinctly caliphal ambitions of ISI, which AQ Central almost certainly would have noticed and found alarming.

Indeed, the formation of ISI complicated AQ Central’s formal allegiance to the Taliban, or the Islamic Emirate of Afghanistan (IEA). In a later interview, Ayman al-Zawahiri stated that the two emirates (ISI and IEA) held higher authority than Al Qaida itself, but did not fully explain how the two related to each other or to AQ individually. Both Mullah Omar and Abu Umar al-Baghdadi bore the title amir al-muminin (“commander of the faithful”), which seemingly placed them on equal ground. However, Baghdadi’s supposed Qurayshite and Hashemite ancestry, in addition to this title, posed him as an obvious caliph, which would grant him higher authority than Mullah Omar, therefore placing ISI above IEA. Ever the watchful strategist, AQGC leader Atiyatullah al-Libi immediately pointed this out:

It probably would have been better to call him “Emir” without adding “of the Faithful” so that the evident reference would be to “Emir” of this “State,” because the term “Commander of the Faithful” gives the illusion that he is the Grand Imam, and gives the impression that our brothers may consider him so! And it has been accepted as a tradition among Muslims from the time of our master Umar bin al-Khattab, may Allah regard him well, that the title is synonymous with the “Grand Imam” who is also the Caliph. And if it were added to that that he—may Allah preserve and aid him—is a Qurayshite and a Husaynite, then the illusion is strengthened.10

Atiya raised even harsher concerns in private. Something extremely strange was taking place in the jihadist movement. Later in 2010, as revealed by the Abbottabad Letters, another AQGC leader, Adam Gadahn, wrote a document, in which he urged AQGC to formally dissociate from ISI: “The relations between al-­Qaeda and the [Islamic State of Iraq] have been practically cut off for a number of years. The decision to declare the State was taken without consultation from al-­Qaeda leadership. Their improvised decision has caused a split in the Mujahidin ranks and their supporters inside and outside Iraq.” The key split thus took place in October 2006.

As the clear vanguard, IS sought to lead the global jihadist movement. This led to recurring behind-the-scenes tensions with AQ Central, but both organizations passed over these. There was no reason to directly address them. The longstanding ideological differences between the two could be overlooked for pragmatic reasons, but the later feud in Syria over Jabhat al-Nusra resurfaced these tensions and brought into question AQ’s and IS’s roles in the global jihadist movement. AQ attempted to assert its authority over IS, while IS attempted to buck its parent organization and assert its own authority. This meant that IS’s leadership of global jihadism was no longer possible within the AQ sphere–so IS had to make its own. The 2006 State declaration was the necessary condition for this. IS could unilaterally solve its problem with AQ by declaring a caliphate–which was always implicit–and thus create its own jihadist umbrella.

However, this came at the cost of splitting global jihadism, which, by 2014, was deemed acceptable by IS. All of the questions raised by the 2006 State declaration were answered by the fateful split, beginning in February 2014 when IS broke from AQ and culminating in June of that year when IS declared the caliphate. The fight between AQ and IS is therefore political, rather than ideological, although it is often framed in the latter terms. Once the final split transpired, those inclined to Wahhabism (or Najdi Dawah) joined IS, while those inclined to Qutbist Muslim Brotherhood populism remained in AQ. In this respect, both organizations changed, even if neither Baghdadi nor Zawahiri suddenly transformed on that eventful day.11

The State Regroups

Let us return to the insurgency. The Sahawat’s advances in Ramadi should not be conflated with the disruption of ISI operations in Ramadi. The “State” remained a serious force in the city, now physically represented by robust checkpoints in several major districts. At each checkpoint stood twenty heavily-armed fighters who regularly fought Coalition or Iraqi security forces in pitched street battles. On a day during Ramadan, ISI initiated a citywide operation that reflected an alarmingly complex and well-coordinated network throughout the city. ISI fighters simultaneously attacked every Coalition position in Ramadi at specific time intervals, typically fighting until the death or until ammunition had run out. The attacks revealed that the Sahawat-inflicted leadership losses in ISI had not disrupted the organization’s military capabilities. Indeed:

The AQI fighters were personally commanded by AQI Ramadi amir [REDACTED] from a vehicle with his signature mounted Dimitrov gun. The planning for this attack may have been organized in the Hay al-Dhubat Thanya district, where safe houses for AQI’s foreign fighters, as well as a VBIED factory, were located on B Street in Al Andalus. (194)

The Study continues to refer to ISI as “AQI” due to the mistaken belief that ISI was simply a rebrand of AQI. As established above, ISI had dissolved AQI, and in doing so, politically superseded AQ Central itself. The author’s mistake here is common of most analysts from the period, who simply did not comprehend just how extreme Iraqi jihadism had become and thus where its ambitions would take it next.

In any case, the “State” expanded its recruiting and began vetting all potential recruits, a marked contrast from prior years. ISI recruiters were sent to local markets to identify young men (age 15-25) who would be susceptible to recruitment, usually out of poverty, isolation, or social disgruntlement. Upon identification, recruiters monitored the daily lives of potential recruits for up to a week to see if the individual collaborated with the Coalition. When a potential recruit was deemed “safe,” the recruiter approached them with an offer to join ISI’s ranks.

Once the recruit agreed to join AQI, the recruiters met with their families, photographed them, and collected information on their place of employment and the location of any relatives in the city. This information was used both to locate other potential recruits and to retain control over the recruits should they be tempted to collaborate with the Coalition. (194)

In so doing, ISI could effectively spy on large parts of the population, thereby exerting control. Recruits were subjected to media-intensive indoctrination, primarily consisting in videos and written works carrying hardline Salafi Jihadist themes.

An interesting development during this period was collaboration between ISI and Ba’athists. This was not out of any shared ideological or political affinity but convenience, though much moreso for ISI than the Ba’athists, who were patently deluded. The collaboration primarily consisted in funds sent to ISI:

Former regime financiers also continued to assist AQI. Since 2004, Sheikh Abdul Kareem Abdul Razzaq al-Tikriti had financed AQI cells in Ramadi, Fallujah, and Baghdad as well as Ba’athist cells in Kirkuk using money obtained from Saddam Hussein’s daughters Rana and Raghad. In addition, Sheikh Razzaq’s financial network acted as a means through which AQI supporters in [Syria, Turkey] and [the Gulf]12 the could send money to the organization on a regular basis. While not all this support went to AQI (the 1920 Revolution Brigade in Haditha was also a beneficiary of [REDACTED] financiers), the group received more than enough in addition to its already self-sufficient funding to support its operations. (195)

The Ba’athists thought that this would ingratiate them with ISI. In reality, ISI utterly despised them, owing to many ISI leaders’ (including Abu Umar himself) years of militant opposition to the Ba’ath even before the war. Indeed, in a recovered arms cache, the Coalition discovered that ISI labeled the Ba’ath Party as “Spies and Traitors”–the exact same category as the Da’wa Party and the Badr Brigades, both of which ISI ferociously hated.

The Sahawat’s Growing Pains

The Sahawat struggled to unite the various non-ISI insurgent groups into a cohesive entity aligned to the Coalition. Many of these groups simply rejected the concept of a ceasefire with the Coalition, which they (rightly) still saw an occupying invader. This severely hindered Sahwa efforts to secure ceasefires and prioritize the fight against ISI. The Iraqi national government continued its attempts to bring non-ISI insurgents into the political process. For instance, in late October, Vice President Tariq Hashimi met with the spiritual leader of the 1920 Revolution Brigades. This individual “wanted to depose Harith al-Dhari as AMS secretary-general with support from IIP or to break with AMS altogether and form a new clerical organization.” (199) Naturally, Dhari was outraged and accused this figure of betraying the Sunni resistance, leading to further fragmentation among non-ISI insurgents. More disturbing was the second thoughts of some Sahawat-aligned tribal leaders:

Some tribal leaders who were members of the SAA now began to reconsider their anti-AQI stance. With the establishment of the Islamic Amirate of Iraq and the Central Tribal Council, the AQI leadership in Ramadi began to negotiate a cease-fire with tribes in the SAA, arguing that an AQI victory would pose no threat to the tribal leaders or their authority. By uniting with AQI, the Ramadi tribes could become part of the Islamic Amirate of Iraq once the Coalition had been defeated. This adoption of a more pragmatic view of its opposition by AQI was due to the guidance of AQSL members [REDACTED], both of whom relayed orders directly from UBL for the AQI leadership to begin brokering deals with tribal leaders. (199)

In parallel, ISI doubled down on its already extensive murder and intimidation campaign in Haditha, hoping to preempt any “Awakening” in the city. This was primarily due to Haditha’s strategic location, serving as a key ISI node for Ramadi, Bayji, Mosul, and Kirkuk.

Despite these troubles, the Sahawat continued to grow in stature and authority in late October and November. Shaykh Sattar Abu Risha’s charm offensive with several top Iraqi officials bore fruit. The Interior Minister informed the press: “If the chieftains and the people of al-Anbar ask for the help of the national police, then we are ready to be the first to offer it after an official decision is issued by the prime minister. The national police will be at the disposal of al-Anbar’s people.” (200) The Ministry of Interior then appointed Sattar as director of counter-terrorism in Anbar and made Hamid Hamad al-Shawqa’s role as provincial police chief permanent. Sattar also announced that every member-tribe of the Sahawat had each supplied 200-300 volunteers as fighters. Slowly but surely, the tribes were beginning to “awake.”

To be continued

Fighters from Jaysh Ahlus-Sunnah wal-Jama’a prepare for a night raid

Sitrep Across Anbar

Despite leadership losses, MSC still retained significant power in Ramadi, particularly in the black market. For instance, in the Tamim and 5 Kilo districts, local contractors could not operate without AQI’s permission and were required to pay 50% of the profit. Extortion of government contracts was routine throughout Anbar and Ramadi was no different. A new “innovation” in AQI’s extortion methods was to form protection rackets, demanding payment in exchange for guarantees that no insurgent attacks would take place in contract areas. Previously, AQI would not even grant this concession to contractors. Its most important racket, however, remained the illicit oil trade, through which it obtained resources, reaped profits, and controlled the population. To quote at length from the Study:

The Jazira Propane Factory continued to be used as meeting site, arms cache, hostage holding area, and IED factory by AQI fighters loyal to AQI amir [REDACTED]. While multiple Coalition raids on the factory failed to produce any significant findings, this was because the guards at the factory gave AQI fighters advance notice of Coalition movements in the area, just as the guards had done at Ramadi General Hospital during the summer of 2006.

Anbar oil distribution director-general [REDACTED] continued to both support and facilitate AQI’s black market fuel activities in Ramadi by supplying AQI with both money and gasoline that was then sold on the black market. AQI leader [REDACTED] continued to serve as primary contact with AQI and together the two men earned $50,000 and $40,000 a day in black market fuel sales. Because [REDACTED] had held his position as director-general for oil distribution in Anbar under Saddam Hussein, he was able to apply his complex knowledge of the situation to help AQI control gasoline distribution in Ramadi. Working with [REDACTED], AQI fighters were placed in control of Ramadi gas stations and paid $300 a day with money provided by the Iraqi government.

By virtue of his connections with [REDACTED], AQI amir [REDACTED] was able to maintain AQI’s control over Ramadi gas stations and both the price and distribution of gasoline for local generators. Owners of private generators were only able to receive fuel with the verified permission of the local AQI leader in charge of the fuel distribution center. This enabled AQI to finance its operations inside Ramadi while influencing the population through a means that was far less direct but just as effective as the group’s regular murder and intimidation campaign. (160-61)

The educational system remained completely compromised by MSC as well. This process had begun early in 2006 with the insurgency first enforcing sharia in schools and the university, but had now dramatically escalated:

AQI stepped up its campaign against schools in the Tamim and Hay al-Dhubat districts of Ramadi, threatening to kill any student seen attending an education facility and warning that there would be no academic year for anyone in the city unless the Coalition removed its checkpoints. The goal of this intimidation was to force the population into pressuring the Coalition to remove the checkpoints that inhibited AQI’s access to its safe houses, recruiting centers, and weapons caches. It was also a reaction to the Anbar Revolutionaries’ assassination of Ahmad Frayh Ahmad al-Faraji, the AQI amir charged with overseeing Anbar University in order to preserve the institution as an AQI enclave by intimidating the students and faculty. (162)

Faraji’s assassination did not loosen AQI’s grip on Anbar University, which continued to be a stronghold. This was in large part due to three faculty members who recruited and propagandized for the organization. Of the three, one also doubled as a Salafi imam at a local mosque and key ideologue in Salafi organizations in Baghdad. Yet, despite all this, the Coalition and the Sahawat were able to kill multiple key mid-level MSC leaders, leaving insurgent leadership and administration to seven veteran leaders. These seven were, in fact, the original members of Jama’at al-Tawhid wal-Jihad (JTJ) in Ramadi. To restore leadership ranks, AQI began deploying commanders from the rest of Anbar and other regions in Iraq to Ramadi. For instance, leaders from Rutbah were smuggled into Ramadi while disguised as construction workers. Meanwhile, the senior bomb-maker in Mosul leveraged his ties to Bayji fertilizer plant to ship explosives and vehicles to Ramadi.

AQI also doubled operations in Lake Thar Thar region, where it had suffered leadership losses due to Coalition and Sahwa efforts. It set up checkpoints and attacked cargo and tanker trucks, alongside the regular murder and intimidation efforts. Coalition operations discovered firing ranges and hideouts. More disturbingly, they found an “AQI torture house with bloodstained walls that contained Iraqi police uniforms, handwritten notes by torture victims and a log book with interrogation notes. The bodies of Iraqi police officers were also recovered in the Thar Thar Canal near Japanese Bridge, further confirming that AQI used the Saddamiyah-Lake Thar Thar area to interrogate and then murder police.” (163)

This was part of AQI’s renewed campaign to suppress and destroy Iraqi police, which was especially severe in Khalidiyah. The organization assassinated several top security officials, such as the Anbar intelligence director and key supporters of the electoral process. Several others were beheaded. Any and all residents who opposed AQI were tortured and executing, greatly deterring collaboration with the Coalition. The ever-present threats also coerced many young men to join AQI. The campaign effectively disbanded 1920 Revolution Brigades in the city, forcing its fighters to either join AQI, flee, or retire.

Amidst this brutal offensive, a bizarre and morbidly humorous episode took place north of Khalidiyah. One AQI commander, Khalid Mukhlif Daham of Habbaniyah, disagreed with another, Ali Siyagha of Jazira, on the issue of murdering Iraqi army and police members. Daham opposed it, while Siyagha supported it. This was due to their respective backgrounds. Daham was originally a member of the nationalist-inclined Islamic Army of Iraq, which frowned upon attacking fellow Sunni Iraqis. Although he later joined AQI, Daham never adopted its ideology. In contrast, Siyagha had been an enthusiastic AQI member for several years, gaining prominence shortly after the Second Battle of Fallujah. When Daham publicly denounced killing Sunni army and police members, Siyagha ordered his assassination–which led Daham’s fighters to kill Siyagha in revenge, thus eliminating two key AQI leaders.

MSC’s leadership problems did not impede its operations everywhere, as in the Greater Fallujah area, where it continued to relentlessly target police. In the outer village of Karmah, AQI had infiltrated the police, with two moles working to convince other police officers to formally surrender to AQI in exchange for amnesty. This policy spread throughout the Fallujah area to great success, which soon led to police officers outright defecting to AQI. Within Fallujah proper, AQI still lacked an overall city-level emir but remained combat effective, especially when it came to attacking police forces. The tribal civil war also worsened, with 500 pro-AQI Albu Issa tribal fighters establishing checkpoints in their area to identify pro-Coalition members of the Albu Issa and Albu Alwan tribes. The authorities’ beleaguered efforts in Fallujah were further undermined by severe corruption, as when a local brigade general distorted records, embezzled funds, and stole fuel (among other things) for profit. The situation was especially grim in neighboring Amariyah:

The attacks on the Iraqi police and their supporters in Amariyah and Ferris Town were now far more complex than they had ever been before, with 200 AQI fighters arrayed against them from their base in the Fuhaylat village and more than 500 in the Zobai tribal area. These AQI fighters were armed with heavy weapons, anti-aircraft artillery, and PKCs and had successfully augmented their numbers by recruiting from local criminal elements. (169)

Further to the east, in Zaidon, information simply stopped being leaked to the Coalition, reflecting how deeply it had fallen under AQI’s influence. The Coalition’s successes in Fallujah had been completely undone.

Towards the west of Anbar, MSC’s operations centered on supporting its campaign in the Haditha-Barwanah-Haqlaniyah Triad. For instance, in Hit–which was on the road from Ramadi to Haditha–MSC maintained a tight grip on the fuel trade, though it faced local resistance:

AQI continued to effectively control fuel distribution at Hit gas stations, with fighters keeping customers orderly in line and distributing a portion of the fuel to residents while saving the remainder for sale on the black market. Because fuel was only delivered sporadically to Hit, residents were desperate to obtain fuel, enabling AQI to sell it at up 700% higher than market value. The Kutayshat subtribe opposed AQI and the two fought several battles for control over of fuel distribution in southern Hit in late August 2006 that resulted in the death of a locally-feared Algerian AQI fighter. (171)

In the area between the Haditha Triad and Lake Thar Thar, particularly in Senjick and Albu Hyatt, MSC stockpiled significant amounts of weaponry, with the Coalition later discovering over 200 arms caches. AQI also conducted military training at a milling facility in the AQI-aligned villages of Sakran. Many local villagers were fishermen, who moonlighted as smugglers shipping arms, fighters, and supplies up the Euphrates River to Haditha. In this way, AQI could avoid Coalition presence on the highways–where Sakran was known as an insurgent “truck stop”–and resupply its forces undetected.

In the Haditha Triad itself, MSC waged a sustained campaign against the resurgent police forces. In mid-July, the Haditha police forces had reformed, and in early August, arrested sixty-three insurgents. This pushed AQI and Ansar al-Sunnah leadership from Haditha into Sakran, from where the campaign was coordinated:

The local AQI leadership in Haditha was under pressure from its provincial superiors to increase attacks in the area and take any action necessary to prevent the establishment of an Iraqi police force. To emphasize the need for this measure, AQI threatened to cut funding to all its allied groups in the Haditha area if they failed to comply with this directive. This was a particularly effective threat given that the unemployment rate in western Anbar ranged from 70-75% in the first half of 2006, leaving AQI with a large pool of potential recruits that it could use to expand operations or replace lackluster fighters. (172)

By late September, the threat had born some grisly results, particularly with the mass beheading of ten police members, including a nineteen year old cadet. However, a local police chief successfully united several tribes–including the once pro-AQI Jughayfah–against AQI, leading to the graduation of 200 police officers in mid-October. This forced the further evacuation of AQI and Ansar al-Sunnah leadership from the Haditha area, now towards Bayji and areas north of Lake Thar Thar. From Bayji, MSC shipped significant weaponry, usually to be smuggled through the desert into Haditha to avoid local highways. The importance given to the Triad can be seen from the AQI leader responsible for operations:

The coordination of AQI and Ansar al-Sunna activities in Haditha, al-Qaim, and Kirkuk was overseen by [REDACTED] who may have been the head of the Haditha Mujahideen Shura. While [REDACTED] resided in Kirkuk, he also had residences on Huwayji Island near Haditha and in al-Qaim that he traveled to periodically to visit members of his family and local AQI leaders. Through these trips, [REDACTED] was able to issue orders and establish himself as a figure of great prominence within AQI. In addition to having been the mayor of Haditha in 2005, [REDACTED] had also served as Zarqawi’s “war counsel” prior to his death and advised the late AQI leader on virtually all AQI operations in Anbar. He apparently retained this role under [REDACTED], rising to the rank of fourth-in-command for AQI. (173)

It is unclear who exactly this individual was. That he was in charge of Al Qaim and Kirkuk reflected significant authority within MSC as a whole. His position as a top advisor to Zarqawi suggests he was an old guard veteran of the organization, likely during the earlier days of JTJ. Note that this individual had been mayor of Haditha in 2005, reflecting AQI’s penetration of the civilian government.

Insurgent financing in the Haditha Triad was especially revealing of local political dynamics. Opting against criminal or commercial operations, Ansar al-Sunnah leaned into shepherd networks, reflecting affinity with local bedouin families: “The group received some of its finances from donors via the sheep smuggler [REDACTED], allowing the group a regular shipment of $50-60,000 every 4-5 months.” (172) One AQI commander’s finances were more in keeping with the organization’s preferred methods. In addition to extortion and theft, this individual collected payroll for supposed oil protection for the T1 Company and the K3 oil refinery. Naturally, no services were rendered. Earlier that year, in February 2006, AQI had successfully extorted the local mayor, Imad Jawad Hamza, out of a portion of an $8m reconstruction contract. Imad was personally not a Salafi Jihadist, but he supported the insurgency. In November 2005, he mediated an agreement between AQI and other insurgents to evict the Coalition from Haditha. However, this agreement gradually dissolved as AQI become increasingly hegemonic, which threatened Imad’s own position:

Imad continued to walk a fine line during his tenure as mayor, allowing AQI access to power and influence in the Haditha area in return for the group’s protection and support. In October 2006, however, Imad left Haditha and hid in Bani Dahir, essentially dissolving the local government in Iraq’s third largest city. The catalyst for Imad’s flight was that the strengthening of the Iraqi police in Haditha had blunted AQI’s original plan to infiltrate the police from within. This left Imad in something of a quandary, since he was so closely associated with the Haditha police, even though he had no real control over their campaign against AQI. As a result, AQI murdered several of Imad’s assistants and threatened to kill him unless he agreed to rein in the Haditha police. (174)

The situation in the other two towns of the Triad–that is, Haqlaniyah and Barwanah–was even worse than in Haditha, as both towns were deeply infiltrated by MSC. In Haqlaniyah, the Coalition arrested a former city council member who had been an insurgent operative since June 2003, perhaps even earlier. He had become an AQI member by 2005, focusing on propaganda and intelligence work. Meanwhile, in Barwanah, the municipal government had simply ceased to exist, leading criminal activity to skyrocket. As with so many other cities, the fuel trade was under complete insurgent control:

The Barwanah gas station continued to be run by AQI and Ansar al-Sunna members, who determined who was allowed to purchase gasoline in the city. While the two groups had formerly been involved in a dispute with one another over control of the gas station, by September 2006 they had reached an agreement to divide the profits in half in order to fund their respective activities in Barwanah. By mutually supporting one another, AQI and Ansar al-Sunna were able to make both of their operations more effective in Barwanah. AQI used the gasoline in part to pay local fishermen who helped them to transport fighters and supplies along the Euphrates River. (174)

South of the town, AQI maintained an informal medical facility (with capacity of 15-20) at a local home, using medical supplies stolen from local truckers. This reflected a significant degree of organizational sophistication.

However, perhaps the most acutely severe campaign against police forces was in the town of Baghdadi (not to be confused with Baghdad). The police in Baghdadi had proven remarkably resilient to AQI’s brutal attacks. In one extreme incident, the insurgents abducted, tortured, and executed three of the police chief’s cousins. When this did not deter the police, the local AQI emir resorted to a diabolical scheme to break the public: Placing the town under siege. He ordered merchants in Haditha to halt all shipments to Baghdadi on pain of death. This cut the town off from the north. To enforce the blockade from the south, AQI set up several lines of checkpoints between Baghdadi and Hit.

The AQI fighters who ran these checkpoints stopped all vehicles and cross-referenced the occupants’ ID cards with a list of “collaborators” from the ‘Ubaydi and Jubbah tribes. If an occupant was determined to be a “collaborator,” they were taken prisoner, interrogated, tortured, and eventually murdered. (175)

Food and other key supplies were blocked from Baghdadi, placing the population under severe pressure. A state of terror reigned throughout the town.

Local merchants were so intimidated by AQI that they would not do business with the police while they were in uniform. Baghdadi also continued to be plagued by fuel shortages since the only gas station in the town was not operating. Fuel shipments to Baghdadi were intercepted by AQI or stolen from residents by the group. (176)

With the population suffocating under blockade, AQI was now in a position to regain influence. It did so by negotiating with a prominent local tribal leader, Basim Abdullah Hamad Mirhij al-‘Ubaydi, whom it had strongly opposed just months earlier. Basim was a key supporter of the police in Baghdadi–for which AQI had attempted to assassinate him in May 2006–so he possessed considerable leverage.

AQI’s desire to explore alternative ways to address the group’s problem with the largely successful Baghdadi police was due in part to the ability of the group’s checkpoints to affect trade in Baghdadi and Jubbah, allowing [REDACTED] and his followers to exert influence over the population. As a result, [REDACTED] believed that he was in a strong enough position to try and forge a beneficial relationship with Sheikh Basim that would allow him to provide residents with fresh produce (improving both the quality of life and Sheikh Basim’s standing within the Albu ‘Ubayd tribe) in return for Sheikh Basim agreeing to renounce the Baghdadi police. By establishing economic ties with a successful community leader, the Baghdadi AQI leadership sought to regain the ground that the group had lost in the area with the establishment of the police. (176)

AQI exerted pressure on Basim, which, in turn, exerted pressure on the police forces. MSC’s willingness to use such extreme tactics reflected the growing resistance of the Iraqi police–and therefore AQI’s steadily eroding authority among Sunni Anbaris.

The situation in the far west of Anbar was extremely severe, reflecting an alarming resurgence in jihadist activities after a long period of suppression. One such case was Rawah, where it had all began. Here, AQI’s organizational capabilities had become highly sophisticated. It is worth quoting the Study at great length:

According to documents recovered from a Salafist arms cache near the Euphrates River, AQI displayed an increasing level of sophistication in Rawah, making payments to members of the organization classified as full or part-time fighters, martyrs, and those detained by the Coalition. The primary AQI units in Rawah were 1st through 5th ‘Ubaydi Battalions, with full-time members of the 4th and 5th ‘Ubaydi Battalions being paid regular salaries, with martyrs and those detained by the Coalition being paid more. The salary of individual AQI members was adjusted to compensate for the longevity of service in the organization as well as the number of dependents. All the pay rosters used abbreviated names or aliases to allow members of AQI to conceal their identities.

These ‘Ubaydi Battalions apparently formed part of the AQI command and control center known as the Ajjamiyah network. The network, which had its headquarters in Rawah, directed AQI operations in Anah, Bayji, and Ramadi and existed as far back as July 2006. The network cooperated with AQI leader [REDACTED]’s network to facilitate the smuggling of foreign fighters from the [Iraq-Syria] border to the villages of Samsiyah, Husayniyah, Aumriyah, Ajjamiyah, Mahdyah, and Safrah near Rawah.

AQI leader [REDACTED] who had formerly been based in Ramadi, was the head of the Ajjamiyah network. [REDACTED] was the group’s operational leader and [REDACTED] was its operations chief. Through these individuals, the network was able to coordinate the actions of AQI cells in Ramadi, Anah, and Bayji through lieutenants active in each city. For security purposes, each cell within the network was unaware of the existence of the others. To preserve the network as well as to adhere to [REDACTED]’s new philosophy of building popular support, AQI operatives in the Rawah-Anah corridor were instructed to provide local business owners with advance warning of attacks and ensure that attacks were carried out in open areas to mitigate the risk of civilian casualties. (177)

The situation in Anah was similarly bleak. Under pressure from the insurgency, the provincial government ordered the Anah city council head to disband the municipal government, leaving AQI as the only remaining authority. Earlier in September, fighters from Ramadi had re-based to Anah to avoid Coalition operations. Most fighters were resided in the milling areas of Anah, while command centers operated in nearby villages. During this time (as discussed in previous parts), AQI systematically eliminated the Iraqi Islamic Party (IIP) in Anah, killing dozens of members and eventually forcing it to disband. IIP members hoped that this would cease the onslaught, but they were bitterly mistaken. AQI fighters openly patrolled the town and continued killing IIP members to prevent any reforming of the party.

AQI even began restoring its influence in Al Qaim, from which it had been evicted in 2005 by the Albu Mahal tribe. The war with the Albu Mahal remained the dominant feature of violence in Al Qaim. Bizarrely, one AQI leader attempted to negotiate with Shaykh Sabah of the Albu Mahal, hoping to gain permission for AQI’s use of Husaybah as an organizational hub. This reflected its weakness with regard to tribal authorities, as previously AQI would have simply exercised force. Unsurprisingly, Shaykh Sabah rebuffed the insurgents, but they were not deterred and leverage key operatives in the area. One AQI leader was the “chief representative for all of western Anbar and responsible for transporting weapons and foreign fighters from al-Qaim to the Haditha area.” (179) This leader’s direct superior had rebased to Kirkuk, so his essential role was to facilitate his activities back in Haditha, Bayji, and Kirkuk itself, reflecting a great deal of operational leeway. In Al Qaim itself, the local council economic advisor was an intelligence asset for AQI, passing on information to a key local AQI operative who ran smuggling for the organization in Husaybah. Several gas station owners in Husaybah financially supported AQI. The police chief of neighboring Karabilah was an AQI operative as well, permitting the group to use his home as a safe-house and urging his officers to listen to AQI propaganda on shift. His son also led an IED unit. To conceal his insurgent sympathies, the police chief periodically arrested low-level AQI fighters.

To be continued