Water Wars? Lessons from the Middle East & North Africa
Water Wars? Lessons from the Middle East & North Africa
A Way Out of the Iraqi Impasse
A Way Out of the Iraqi Impasse
Royal Engineers Boat Group patrols the Shatt Al Arab waterway in Basra, Iraq, in October 2006. FLICKR/David Axe
The Royal Engineers Boat Group, a British military unit, patrols the Shatt al-Arab waterway between Iran and Iraq in October 2006. FLICKR/David Axe

Water Wars? Lessons from the Middle East & North Africa

In a keynote speech for the World Water Week in Stockholm on 28 August 2016, our MENA Program Director Joost Hiltermann assesses the role of water in Middle East conflicts – even, potentially, when used in the cultivation of Yemen’s beloved stimulant, qat.

I want to thank the organisers – AGWA, the Rockefeller Foundation, SIWI and UNESCO-IHP – for inviting me to speak here today, and in particular Anders Jägerskog of SIDA at the Swedish Embassy in Amman for his support.

I head the Middle East & North Africa Program at the International Crisis Group, an independent organisation working through field-based analysis and high-level advocacy to prevent and resolve deadly conflict. In that capacity I have asked myself at times: Why haven’t we worked on water and conflict in the region I cover? Aren’t there plenty of reasons to do so? Indeed, conflict over water was practically invented in the Middle East. I’m going to do something now that I don’t often do: I’m going to quote from the Bible. It’s Sunday, after all.

This is from Genesis:

“Isaac’s servants also dug in the Gerar Valley and discovered a well of fresh water. But then the shepherds from Gerar came and claimed the spring. ‘This is our water’, they said, and they argued over it with Isaac’s herdsmen. So Isaac named the well Esek (which means ‘argument’). Isaac’s men then dug another well, but again there was a dispute over it. So Isaac named it Sitnah (which means ‘hostility’). Abandoning that one, Isaac moved on and dug another well. This time there was no dispute over it, so Isaac named the place Rehoboth (which means ‘open space’), for he said, ‘At last the Lord has created enough space for us to prosper in this land’”.

Well, dream on, I say! There appear to be no open spaces left in the Middle East, and “argument” and “hostility” have become the name of the game.

Instead of a sermon, though, I’m going to say a few things about how water relates to the potential for conflict. As an organisation, we have focused on the drivers of, and actors in, “hot” conflict, of which we have plenty in the region right now: Syria, Iraq, Yemen, Libya, always Palestine/Israel, and others. This distracts from the important underlying, longer-term issues that require attention, such as pressures on water resources. One can find examples of disputes over water triggering a “hot” war, but not many, at least not in recent times. The obvious one that comes to mind is the Iran-Iraq war in the 1980s and the fight over access to the Shatt al-Arab, the waterway that is the confluence of the Tigris and Euphrates as they flow toward the …eh… Persian Gulf? Arab Gulf? You see, there is another problem right there. Let’s just say “the Gulf,” and agree that we all know what we’re talking about.

But other than that war (about which more in a minute), I can’t cite any recent examples. Yet once we take a closer look at the water question, we find interesting things. There is a very good piece in a recent issue of Middle East Report that discusses developments in a place called Wadi Barada in Syria and how these relate to the 2011 popular uprising against the rule of Bashar al-Assad. It turns out that the fact that the river that runs through Wadi Barada dried up in the mid-1990s was a key contributing factor to why that area of the country joined the uprising. It’s clear from this example that any student or activist interested in the relationship between water and conflict would do well to pay close attention to developments such as these well before they lead to violent conflict. More about Wadi Barada in a moment.

What I have learned from my little research before this conference is that, broadly speaking, there are three categories of water and conflict: conflicts over access to water, conflicts over the allocation of water, and the use of water as a weapon in conflict. I will give examples of each, but let me first give some general characteristics about these three categories: (1) issues of access, allocation, and use as weapon can occur in internal and in cross-border situations (the term “transboundary” can denote both internal and cross-border); (2) they can be a cause, a contributing factor, or a pretext for armed conflict; and (3) they can be aggravated by weak governance resulting in poor water management. The question of state policy is important in all cases.

First, access. Conflicts over access usually concern a body of water or a water basin, and are made worse if they have a transboundary dimension. Let’s take another look at the example of the Shatt al-Arab. Access to this waterway has long been a matter of dispute between Iran and Iraq. To Iraq, the river provides critical access to the Gulf; it’s almost existential. To Iran, which has a long coast line on the Gulf, the matter is different, but because it has cities with major oil facilities on the Shatt it needs the river for transportation. Iraq had exclusive access to the Shatt in the early 1970s when Iran, for a number of reasons – of which access to the Shatt was one – began supporting Kurdish rebels in northern Iraq in order to press the Iraqi government to make concessions. Which it did: in 1975 the Shah and Saddam Hussein signed the Algiers Agreement, in which they undertook to share the Shatt by dividing it along the thalweg, the line connecting the river’s lowest points.

In 1980, Iraqi forces invaded Iran by crossing the Shatt into Khuzestan. Saddam wanted to take advantage of post-revolution disarray in Tehran to deal the regime a setback or even bring it to collapse. The issue of the Shatt was merely one of a number of grievances Iraq had vis-à-vis Iran, but Saddam mentioned it as the primary casus belli. It was clearly a pretext for the invasion, not the main reason. (During the war, the Shatt was unnavigable; afterward it was again shared, if uneasily, between the two protagonists.)

So the Iran-Iraq war example offers the following: a conflict at least partly over access to a vital waterway; a combination of cause, contributing factor, and pretext, but arguably mainly the latter; a transboundary/international conflict; and instead of weak governance the actions of two autocratic governments that had little political will and limited capacity to establish mechanisms for resolving disputes.

Second, allocation. Here I go back to the example of the Wadi Barada, which is located between Damascus and the border with Lebanon. Because of the exponential growth of the capital in recent decades, including in the direction of Lebanon in the form of large housing estates for army officers and Alawite and Druze elites, water was diverted from the spring that fed the river flowing through the Wadi Barada in order to provide drinking water for the expanding population, and by the mid-1990s the river had dried up. Perhaps no surprise, therefore, that when protests broke out in southern Syria in the spring of 2011, the people of Wadi Barada quickly joined in, giving voice to their own specific grievances. Their main demands on the government were: (1) restore the river; (2) give access to clean drinking water; and (3) provide fair compensation for the agricultural lands expropriated in the 1970s and 1980s.

The plight of these locals was the direct result of state policies: discriminatory water allocation by an autocratic state and land expropriation, without redress (in the absence of an independent judiciary). After government negotiators met with representatives of the area, they made certain promises, but then nothing happened, the protests continued, and soon government forces came to suppress them. The result was an active and violent revolt, in tune with what was going on elsewhere in Syria, but in the case of Wadi Barada specifically because of what had happened earlier with the land expropriations and water diversion. Discriminatory water allocation therefore was an important contributing factor to the uprising in that part of Syria.

Third, as weapon. I’m not about to throw this bottle of water at you, but … the threat to unleash water collected behind a dam on a city can be quite powerful. The Iraqi regime feared Iran might be planning something along these lines when the latter invaded northern Iraq in the last year of the war, in 1988, aiming for the Darbandikhan dam that sits on the Diyala river; opening it could have flooded Baghdad downstream. Likewise, the Mosul dam became a strategic asset in 2014 after the Islamic State overran Iraqi government positions and captured Mosul and surroundings in June 2014. The risk of waters being unleashed and submerging Mosul threatened to turn a river into a weapon of war. (There has also been a risk of the dam’s collapse as a result of structural faults and lack of maintenance.)

So what is to be done? It is clear that those involved in conflict prevention need to take a closer look at the predictors of deadly conflict when it concerns water disputes:

Firstly, look more closely at disputes over access to water, water allocation, and the potential use of water as a weapon, and assess how they are being managed, by what mechanisms, by what degree of governance, what the recourse is, and so on.

Secondly, analyse the strength and adaptability of institutions and processes of transboundary water management and dispute resolution between riparian governments: how robust are these? Could they break down? How and when?

Thirdly, in times of conflict and crisis: Determine how to achieve water management despite such adverse conditions, and include it as an essential element of a peace settlement and post-conflict peace building.

That’s the agenda we face. Now I’ll end with a short anecdote. Some years ago, I was in Sanaa, and one of the meetings we had was with the minister of water, a very smart and engaging man, who for an hour related to us the difficulties of stamping out the culture of qat chewing, with qat being the kind of rather useless agricultural product whose cultivation was nevertheless consuming inordinate amounts of water. It was getting to be close to 2pm, however, and so rather late in the ministry’s working day, and the minister made it clear that the meeting was over, and it was time for him to hasten home … and preside over his afternoon qat chew.

Cultural habits are deeply ingrained. The misallocation of water for qat production in Yemen is going to run up against more pressing needs for water, and will trigger conflict sooner or later. The current war is not over water, but when it is ended – and let’s hope that moment will come soon – it will be incumbent on policymakers to tackle the knotty qat question, lest Yemen find itself in a Wadi Barada-type of situation sometime down the line.

Thank you.

Supporters of Shiite cleric Moqtada al-Sadr continue a sit-in protest against Mohammed Shia' al-Sudani’s appointment after storming the Iraqi parliament building for the second time in a week in Baghdad, Iraq on July 31, 2022. Murtadha Al-Sudani / Anadolu Agency via AFP

A Way Out of the Iraqi Impasse

Demonstrators are occupying parliament in Baghdad, with Iraq’s main political camps deeply divided. The standoff need not turn violent, if the country’s leaders can shift to dialogue with support from foreign partners.

It has been ten months since Iraqis went to the polls, for the fifth general election in the post-Saddam era, and the new parliament has yet to form a government. Drawn-out periods of government formation are nothing new in post-2003 Iraq, but this time around the implications may be more serious than usual. Tensions among the Shiite parties, which together hold the most total parliamentary seats, run so deep, and the rest of the political field is so fragmented, that politicians may be unable to agree on a compromise solution. With populist protesters occupying parliament since late July, observers are even concerned that Iraq may slide back into civil strife. This time, it would be intra-sectarian, unlike the bloody sectarian war that ravaged the country from 2005 to 2008. There are several factors, however, that militate against such an outcome, including that outside powers could re-engage to help Iraqi leaders find a way out of the impasse.

A Break with Tradition

The escalation of late July was the result of several compounding incidents. In mid-June, populist Shiite cleric Muqtada al-Sadr decided to withdraw his 74 parliamentarians after having failed to form a government despite winning the largest number of seats in the October 2021 polls. Sadr had forged an electoral coalition with the largest Kurdish grouping, the Kurdistan Democratic Party, and the largest Sunni Arab bloc, the Sovereignty Alliance. After the elections, he tried to parlay this coalition into a government. In doing so, he broke with nearly two decades of tradition, by which government formation has rested on an elite pact comprising the main parties in the assembly. Sadr has long cast his movement as one of outsiders, and indeed he rose to prominence after the 2003 U.S. invasion largely because his Mahdi Army militia was battling the occupying soldiers when other Shiite armed groups had merged themselves into the U.S.-backed interim Iraqi government’s security forces. Yet the Sadrists have been party to the elite pact since the 2005 elections, the first under U.S. occupation, with some of them winning parliamentary seats as part of the Shiite Islamist conglomeration of the time. They became central to the pact from 2010 onward, as their strength in parliament grew.

In his departure from past practice, Sadr aimed to sideline his main Shiite rival, former Prime Minister Nuri al-Maliki, who in turn is aligned with other Shiite parties, including pro-Iran factions. To Maliki and his allies, Sadr’s move was unacceptable, according to the logic that Shiites, as the majority sect in Iraq, should also be a majority in government, with the prerogative to appoint the prime minister. Maliki had tried a similar manoeuvre himself following the 2010 elections, when he wished to stop his chief opponent, Ayad Allawi, from forming a government. Back then, Maliki seemed to have succeeded when the Federal Supreme Court issued a ruling interpreting the term “largest bloc in parliament” in his favour. Nonetheless, in the end, because the elite pact had sunk its roots so deep, the various blocs distributed cabinet seats according to consensus, with Maliki taking key posts but also conceding ministries to his rivals, including Allawi. Sadr’s gambit, had it worked, would thus have set a precedent.

The umbrella of Shiite parties opposing Sadr organised under the name the Shiite Coordination Framework. They exerted pressure on the judiciary to offer an interpretation of the constitution – which requires that parliament have a two-thirds quorum to elect a president, who in turn nominates the prime minister – that would stop Sadr from forming a government. Sadr and his partners hoped to vote to convene the presidential election session by simple majority, confident that they could muster the necessary quorum during the session. In a February ruling, however, the Federal Supreme Court established that parliament needs a two-thirds quorum simply to convene the presidential election session. In this way, the Framework parties were able to thwart Sadr’s plans, forming what they called a protective third (Sadr and his allies dubbed it a blocking third) in this session.

Sadr’s followers stormed the parliament building ... as their leader plays on Iraqis’ general disillusionment with decision-making institutions captured by venal elites.

But neither have the Framework parties been able to meet the threshold despite Sadr withdrawing his MPs in June. They attempted to sway Sadr’s Kurdish and Sunni Arab partners to join them in forming a government, without the Sadrist deputies, but failed. At that point, they decided to act as if the Sadrists had forfeited any say in the process. They went so far as to nominate their own candidate for the premiership, Mohammed Shiyaa al-Sudani, who, though he claims to be independent, is close to Maliki. Angered at the attempt to shunt him aside, Sadr called his supporters into the streets to demonstrate against what he called corrupt leadership and, later, in favour of snap elections. On 30 July, Sadr’s followers stormed the parliament building, occupying it since then, as their leader plays on Iraqis’ general disillusionment with decision-making institutions captured by venal elites.

But Sadr’s motive for breaking with the elite pact has less to do with his concerns about corruption than with excluding Maliki from government and thus being able to forge his own state apparatus, which his rival had two terms as prime minister (2006-2014) to build. Sadr has even been open to including other Framework parties – all of them, in fact, except Maliki’s State of Law Alliance – in a government his movement leads. The other parties rejected this option, however, for fear of leaving a Shiite party out of the equation and in deference to the wishes of their patron, Iran, that does not want to see the Shiite house divided.

Sadr vs. Maliki

The demonstrations are thus less a people’s revolution than an intra-elite fight, mainly pitting Sadr and his political backers against Maliki and his. A trigger for Sadr’s escalation was a series of leaked audio tapes in mid-July, which allegedly exposed Maliki’s intent to stop Sadr by force. In one recording, a man said to be Maliki says he has armed tribes in southern provinces and is prepared to move on Najaf, where Sadr resides, to put an end to the populist cleric’s aspirations. (Maliki claims the recording is fabricated, though experts widely view it as authentic.) News of the tape rocked the political scene, but Maliki’s sentiments about Sadr can hardly be a surprise. Their bitter rivalry dates back to the early days of the sectarian war, which ended in 2008 with Operation Charge of the Knights, when Maliki, as prime minister, moved state forces against the Mahdi Army.

Worries about renewed civil strife notwithstanding, there is little appetite for war at this juncture, in contrast to the mid-2000s. The primary reason is that all sides would stand to lose, as none is strong enough to eliminate its rivals. High oil prices are another disincentive, as all want to benefit from the revenue streaming into state coffers. Nor are regional powers that once wanted an unstable Iraq interested in that goal now. Iran has meddled to varying degrees in Iraq’s internal affairs since the U.S. invasion, if less overtly since the U.S. killed Qods Force commander Qassem Soleimani and allied Iraqi paramilitary leader Abu Mahdi al-Muhandis in January 2020. Amid the present tensions, however, Tehran has communicated a red line to all Shiite factions, threatening to sever links with whichever one first pulls the trigger. Lastly, Operation Charge of the Knights notwithstanding, there is a longstanding taboo against violence within the Shiite camp.

Indeed, how past tensions have been overcome offers evidence of rival Shiite factions’ ability to settle their differences through politics, even if accompanied by intimidation or threats of violence. In 2016, for instance, Sadr called on his supporters to protest the appointments in former Prime Minister Haider al-Abadi’s cabinet. His followers occupied parliament, as they are doing now, until Abadi conceded to Sadr’s demands and replaced several ministers. In a more recent intra-Shiite showdown, current Prime Minister Mustafa al-Kadhimi sought to curb the power of pro-Iran paramilitary groups (and their affiliated political parties) by arresting their high-level commanders following the 2019 Tishreen protests. One such arrest provoked a scuffle inside the Green Zone, the fortified district of Baghdad where most vital government buildings are located, with the paramilitaries’ supporters threatening to overthrow the government. Authorities released the commander.

The standoff in the heart of the capital ... exposed once more the fragility of Iraq’s post-2003 political system.

Still, the standoff in the heart of the capital is reason for concern on several levels. It has exposed once more the fragility of Iraq’s post-2003 political system. While the oligarchical elites have come together after each previous election to divvy up shares of the government pie, they seem no longer able to do so. Their core interests remain the same, namely, to grab as much state revenue as they can, so as to extend the patronage networks they need to get re-elected. Sadr’s opponents among the elites see his attempt to exclude them from government – and stop them from dipping into the pot of oil money – as an existential challenge.

Likewise, Sadr felt threatened by his rivals’ attempt to form a government without him. He likely did not worry about losing the ministries his movement has dominated for the last decade, such as health and electricity, as his opponents would be foolhardy to cut him out of the patronage game completely. Even if they were to do so, Sadr has proven in the past that he can stand outside government and remain poised to make a political comeback. In 2007, he ordered six ministers to vacate their cabinet seats, and despite winning the most seats in the 2021 elections he was unafraid to withdraw his MPs, knowing that he still holds tools for vetoing any government of which he disapproves. Commanding his supporters to occupy parliament is one such tool. He is, however, loath to concede executive power to Maliki, who would be able to refresh the bureaucratic clout he fashioned during his two terms as premier.

Between Maliki and Sadr stand the other Shiite leaders, a diverse group, some of whom head pro-Iran parties with paramilitary wings. All of them have called for dialogue following the late July events, which showed them that once again they had underestimated Sadr’s ability to escalate by resorting to street politics. Yet most realise that neither Sadr nor Maliki is likely to walk back his position far enough that Iraq’s political forces can reach a consensus government. With an impossible parliamentary equation, in which neither Sadr nor Maliki can attain a two-thirds majority by himself, few other options remain.

For his part, Sadr continues to demand parliament’s dissolution and new elections. Some of his opponents within the Framework, such as Hadi al-Ameri, leader of the Badr Organisation, and Faleh al-Fayadh, head of the Hashd Commission, have cautiously welcomed this option. Yet many of the Framework parties are unlikely to accept it under the current electoral system, which Sadr played a decisive role in designing to suit his own needs and which they still partly blame for their 2021 defeat. Should the parties agree in principle to holding new elections, another year may pass as the elites jostle to find an electoral system they can all accept. Another outstanding issue is the status of Kadhimi’s caretaker government. Most Framework parties, especially the Iran-aligned factions, reject the notion of Kadhimi staying at the helm until new elections can take place.

Toward an Exit

Some of the difficulty Iraqi elites face in reaching a new political understanding stems from the apparent disengagement of external actors. The elites acquired their power in the years of U.S. occupation from 2003 to 2011, during which Washington nudged Iraqi politicians to compromise. Behind the scenes, Tehran did so as well in order to counter U.S. influence. Neither actor is playing such a role today, so Iraqi leaders stand alone in trying to resolve their differences. This development is necessary for the long-term welfare of Iraq’s political system, but it carries the short-term risk of violence when leaders run out of peaceful means of governing together.

Both regional and Western countries should echo the encouraging calls for dialogue coming from various Iraqi leaders. As a new consensus government is probably impossible, talks should focus on staging new elections. Fresh polls hold out the prospect of resolving the stalemate because the parties will likely change the electoral system or at least redraw district boundaries to produce a smaller gap between the Sadrist and Framework tallies. Plus, one bloc or both may lose voters, as some Iraqis may want to express disapproval of either camp over the past year. In the long run, external actors will need to help Iraq institute a constitutional review, a frequently discussed scenario since the Tishreen uprising. More and more politicians are airing possible amendments, including even moving from a parliamentary to a presidential system, against the backdrop of political paralysis. But the ground would need to be prepared before any major change to Iraq’s political system can be considered, likely in the form of a comprehensive national dialogue that includes all the country’s communities, rather than one restricted to its dominant sect or beholden to the current competitors for power.

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