
The busy, shop-lined streets in the up-market neighbourhood of Mansour look friendly enough, but step inside the narrow doorway of any liquor store and the mood darkens. Talk turns to the threats, and sometimes the grenades, being hurled at owners of such stores, who find themselves on the wrong side of hard-core Islamists revelling in the post-Saddam Hussein power vacuum. It is an irony of the dictator’s fall that the new freedoms unleashed are spawning new forms of repression.
Nowhere is that more evident than at the everyday level of small stores selling alcohol and cinemas showing racy movies, which have been targeted
Recently neighbours pounded frantically on Muhard Muyeed’s door. ‘‘They said some people had thrown a bomb into my store,’’ Muyeed said as he swept rubble from the inside of his shattered liquor shop. A deep hole marked the spot where the grenade had landed, and shrapnel holes pocked the walls. From the outside, the store looks as if it has shut down. A defiant Muyeed, though, is quietly selling beer out of what used to be the bathroom of his business, keeping the cans cool in a bathtub and handing them to customers through a small window.
‘‘Of course I am afraid,’’ said Muyeed, who reported the incident to US military police in the neighbourhood. ‘‘They promised to provide protection for me, but so far, nothing.’’ Other liquor sellers tell of being threatened with death or bombing attacks if they do not close, as do cinema operators. The threats have arrived in various forms — some delivered by fearsome-looking men, others contained in sternly worded fliers posted on doors. All claim to represent the interests of Shia Muslims, and the written warnings in particular carry the name of one of Baghdad’s most vociferously anti-Western clerics, Sheik Md al-Fartusi, who in May called for the closing of alcohol distilleries, liquor stores and theatres showing films that pass here for risque: Rambo, old Elvis flicks, Titanic.
In short, anything showing female skin, which means just about everything except religious and educational material. ‘‘I only ordered what God has already ordered,’’ said Fartusi, whose edict coincided with the looting of several distilleries around Baghdad, and the flood of threats. Though Fartusi is not seen as a major player among Shia leaders vying for influence in Iraq, his ability — and that of other hard-liners — to bully speaks to the appeal of their radical words. Despite being in the majority in Iraq, Shia Muslims were repressed for decades by Saddam, a Sunni Muslim. Shia uprisings against Saddam were met with widespread massacres, whose horrors are becoming clear as mass graves are unearthed across the country. Under Saddam, Iraq was largely secular, with alcohol sales permitted and Western-style entertainment common, an affront to Shia conservatism.
US officials, struggling to curb common crimes such as car theft and looting, say these religious-based attacks are yet another symptom of a society gone temporarily wild with new freedoms. ‘‘It’s a whole unfortunately new experience right at this moment,’’ said Marine Major Dave Andersen. Andersen is the spokesman for former New York City Police Commissioner Bernard Kerik, the virtual police chief for Iraq during its transition from coalition to self-rule.
‘‘These people have been seriously oppressed for 30 years, and now suddenly everything is lifted off of them, and they’re being given new freedoms and choices that must just blow their minds.’’ But while Erik and other coalition officials express confidence that such problems will iron themselves out in time, those on the receiving end of the Shia threats aren’t so sure. In many cases, their survival tactics undermine the very principles of free expression and security.
One cinema owner on Baghdad’s bustling Saddoun Street said he was keeping a machine gun and pistol in his desk, a violation of US weapons policies. Some liquor store owners have resorted to painting over their shop signs to disguise their businesses. All have slashed their hours, at great economic loss, and they tense up noticeably when customers walk in, unsure if they’re coming to buy booze or carry out threats. Some simply are caving in and closing.
The inevitable result, already evident among the targeted businessmen, is more resentment toward the occupying forces for not solving the problem, and deeper divisions among Iraq’s Sunnis, Shia and Christians. ‘‘We have replaced Saddam Hussein with Saddam Fartusi,’’ cracked Hadial Zubaidi as he took cash from a steady stream of customers at the Al-Nasser cinema. He was ordered to stop showing ‘‘sexy’’ films weeks ago or ‘‘face the consequences.’’ The cinema closed for two days. Zubaidi, for one, says he is not afraid of reprisals. ‘‘These are empty threats,’’ he said, but he added that he kept weapons behind the counter. ‘‘Just in case.’’ (LAT-WP)


