From the Los Angeles Times
Iraqi Strife Seeping Into Saudi Kingdom
By Megan K. Stack
Times Staff Writer
April 26, 2006
QATIF, Saudi Arabia — The conflict in Iraq has begun to spill over onto
this hardscrabble, sunburned swath of coast, breathing new life into
the ancient rivalry between the country's powerful Sunni Muslim
majority and the long-oppressed Shiite minority in one of the most
oil-rich areas of the world.
"Saudi
Sunnis are defending Iraqi Sunnis, and Saudi Shiites are defending
Iraqi Shiites," said Hassan Saffar, Saudi Arabia's most influential
Shiite cleric. "There's a fear that it will cause a struggle here."
At
first, the U.S.-led invasion of Iraq gave optimism to Shiites here
along Saudi Arabia's eastern coast. Unlike infuriated Sunnis, many
Shiites felt a surge of quiet hope when the U.S. arrived in Iraq three
years ago. Emboldened by their Iraqi brethren's escape from the
oppressive rule of Saddam Hussein, Shiites here and in other
Sunni-ruled nations began to demand — and win — freedoms of their own.
Bit
by bit, old rules have fallen away in recent years: Saudi Shiites won
the right to publish and read sectarian literature. They can now work
as journalists, build mosques and open Shiite schools to educate their
sons.
But today, the power shift that seemed to be opening doors
for the sect is beginning to look more like a dangerous
destabilization. Some Shiite clerics here have received death threats
in recent months, community leaders say. Shiites have also been accused
of harboring links to Iran, a longtime nemesis of the Saudi government.
Sunni and Shiite clerics across the region have begun to warn against a
fitna, a severe term that refers to a civil war or division
within the Islamic faith.
"Now
there's a psychological war against the Shia," said Mohammed Mahfoodh,
a Shiite author here. "They criticize the Shia, accuse them of being
loyal to an outside party, attack their religious beliefs and say they
don't have interest in the stability of their countries."
Saudi
Shiites have lived for centuries among the banana and date palm groves
where the kingdom tapers off into the Persian Gulf, pushed literally
and figuratively to the margins of Saudi Arabia. Unwittingly, they
settled directly on top of the fossils that became the source of Saudi
opulence: vast oil reserves that spread out beneath their villages.
Far
from the skyscrapers glinting in the sun in Riyadh and Jidda, this is a
very different Saudi Arabia, a place where villagers still live in
mud-brick huts, where pictures of Hezbollah chief Sheik Hassan
Nasrallah and Iraq's Grand Ayatollah Ali Sistani are plastered on
walls, where roads go unpaved and old wells pock the desert.
There
are times when you can literally smell the gas, sitting like a vapor
over the sands. The people of Qatif sometimes joke that the cow is
here, but the milk goes elsewhere.
"Look at all the treasures in
this area, look at the oil. Qatif should be rich," said Aliya Fareed, a
Shiite and member of the fledgling National Society for Human Rights.
"But we can't see Qatif as a rich area," Fareed said. "Look at our
schools, look at our homes.
"Our young people don't have jobs," she said, and in the 21st century
"we're living in houses of mud."
Shiites
have a long list of grievances in Qatif. They need roads and job
opportunities. They remain underrepresented on the governing councils,
which are handpicked by the royal family, and are excluded from
military and diplomatic positions. Sunnis commute from out of town to
run offices as mundane as that of traffic police.
"We don't feel like we're full partners in the nation," Mahfoodh said.
In
a land where the seeds of centuries-old discord were first sown among
the followers of the prophet Muhammad, animosities between Sunni and
Shiite Muslims are never far from the surface.
Today, the
Shiites of the east are mounting an unprecedented push for civil rights
and equality, even as they find themselves increasingly tarred as
traitors more loyal to Iran than to the kingdom they call home.
Egyptian
President Hosni Mubarak angered the region's Shiites this month when he
told a reporter from the satellite news channel Al Arabiya that Shiites
throughout the Arab world had deeper loyalties to Iran than to their
home countries.
Mubarak was broadcasting a belief that is
widely held among Sunni Arabs. Here in Saudi Arabia, many Sunnis say
privately that Mubarak was correct about Shiite loyalty — but that he
probably shouldn't have said it publicly.
"Everybody believes
that Shiite Muslims are loyal to Iran more than to their own countries,
but you don't say it," said Turki Hamad, a liberal Sunni Saudi. "I'd
say 90% of the people in Saudi Arabia don't trust the Shiites. You
can't just shake a magic stick and get rid of it."
The question
of loyalty is a blurry one. A long legacy of shoddy treatment has left
many Shiites nursing quiet grudges against their governments. Shiite
political leaders generally know better than to advertise
anti-government sentiments at a time when they're pushing for equality,
but the animosity often lurks just below the surface.
"I was
born in Qatif and I hope to die in Qatif — it's my land," said Ali
Maidani, 33, a Shiite. He paused, then corrected himself. "All of Saudi
Arabia is my land, but the government doesn't treat me like a citizen.
So sometimes I feel that only Qatif is my land.
"It's not good for the government," he said. "That's why people start
to follow other regimes."
Some
of the accusations of disloyalty involve the Shiite religious
hierarchy. Shiite worshipers follow the guidance of a clerical
"source." Most of the Arab world's Shiites, including those in Saudi
Arabia, look to Sistani as their spiritual leader; others look to
Ayatollah Ali Khamenei in Iran.
Shiites point out that this is a
religious allegiance and often say angrily that it has nothing to do
with politics. But the dividing line is not firm; religion and politics
often meld.
For example, in neighboring Bahrain, a restive
Shiite majority is pushing to have marriage, divorce and custody laws
approved not by parliament but by Sistani. Sunnis are outraged at the
idea; they regard it as an insult to national sovereignty.
Shiites
"want the power in their hands and only their hands," said Adel Mawda,
a Sunni legislator in Bahrain's parliament. "How can a country put in
its constitution that we send our law to another country?"
Shiites
in Bahrain and here have eagerly latched on to any democratic opening.
In Bahrain, Shiite-led groups have staged some of the largest street
demonstrations in the Arab world, shutting down highways and chanting
protests against the government, which is controlled by Sunnis.
As
for Qatif, its long-marginalized province voted more heavily than the
rest of the country last year when Saudi men were allowed to cast
ballots in limited municipal elections.
About 43% of eligible voters went to the polls here — more than in any
other district in the country.
"The
society felt like this was their opportunity to express their
existence," said Jaafar Shayeb, a Shiite leader and onetime political
exile who was elected to the municipal council in Qatif. "Now you feel
they're ready and willing to participate at any opportunity."
Sunni-Shiite
understanding has been deepened in recent years by the "national
dialogue" — the royal family's project of arranging face-to-face
conferences of Saudis of different backgrounds. The talks have drawn
Shiite and Sunni clerics from around the country to discuss its future.
"It
used to be a closed, black box. They didn't know what are the Shia,
what do they want," Shayeb said. "We don't want to overthrow the
government. We want equality as citizens."
Copyright 2006 Los Angeles Times