Polls And Peril
Iraq stands once again at the edge of a defining moment, preparing for its seventh parliamentary election since the fall of Saddam Hussein in 2003. Yet this is not a routine exercise in democracy. It is an election freighted with regional tension, domestic fatigue, and a silent struggle over Iraq’s identity and alliances. The vote comes amid mounting fears of another Israel–Iran conflict and the possibility of retaliatory strikes that could drag Iraq’s soil back into confrontation. Baghdad’s fragile effort to maintain equilibrium between Tehran and Washington is increasingly strained, and the outcome of this election could either reinforce that delicate balance or shatter it. The polls will begin with members of the security forces and displaced citizens, followed by the general vote. Prime Minister Mohammed Shia al-Sudani’s prospects for a second term will largely depend on how the fractured blocs of Iraq’s sectarian mosaic negotiate power after the results. Since no single coalition has been able to command a stable majority in post-Saddam Iraq, the question is not simply who wins, but who can form and hold a government together in an atmosphere of distrust, economic grievance, and simmering external pressure. For the ordinary Iraqi, however, this election is not about grand geopolitics. It is about electricity that doesn’t last through the day, taps that run dry, and jobs that never materialise despite oil wealth. The fatigue of unfulfilled promises has translated into cynicism — turnout has fallen steadily, from 44 per cent in 2018 to 41 per cent in 2021. With only 21.4 million of 32 million eligible voters updating their information this year, the pattern of disillusionment persists. Iraq’s post-war democracy, once heralded as a model for the region, is slowly losing the faith of its own people.
The field is as crowded as ever: more than 7,700 candidates, representing everything from sectarian power blocs to independents and protest movements. The absence of Muqtada al-Sadr’s movement — which dominated the last election — leaves a gaping hole in the Shia landscape. His boycott, framed as a rejection of a corrupt system, has left Sadr City, home to millions, unusually quiet this campaign season. That silence carries weight. Without Sadr’s populist energy, turnout among poorer urban Shias may further collapse, benefiting entrenched parties tied to militias and old patronage networks. The proliferation of Iran-linked factions remains a defining feature of Iraqi politics. Groups like Kataib Hezbollah and Asaib Ahl al-Haq are contesting the vote under political banners, but their muscle lies outside Parliament — in the militias that command men, money, and influence. Their growing political legitimacy deepens the hold of Tehran-aligned interests within Iraq’s state apparatus. Al-Sudani, though initially backed by such factions, has sought to project himself as a technocratic pragmatist, improving services while balancing foreign relations. Yet his room for manoeuvre is narrow. The United States continues to press him to rein in the militias, while hardliners within the Shiite Coordination Framework warn against any move perceived as weakness toward Washington.
The country’s ethnic and sectarian power-sharing arrangement — a Kurdish president, a Shiite prime minister, a Sunni speaker — was meant to preserve stability. Instead, it has ossified political life, reducing governance to bargaining among elites while the public grows more alienated. The killing of a Sunni candidate, Safaa al-Mashhadani, in a car bombing last month is a grim reminder that Iraqi politics, even after years of relative calm, can still turn lethal. Violence may no longer define everyday life, but it continues to stalk its politics. The regional backdrop adds to the volatility. Iran’s influence in Iraq has never been purely political; it is logistical, economic, and ideological. Iraqi territory hosts several Iran-backed groups that the US considers legitimate targets if hostilities escalate in the wider Middle East. Any confrontation between Washington and Tehran could quickly transform Iraq from mediator to battlefield. Al-Sudani’s government, despite its rhetoric of neutrality, would face impossible choices.
Iraq’s democratic machinery still shows signs of institutional maturity — gender quotas, reserved seats for minorities, and incremental improvements in electoral procedure. But democracy is more than procedure; it requires participation and belief. The absence of overseas voting this year, the shrinking voter registry, and the persistence of corruption allegations all point to a polity that risks hollowing out from within. The next Iraqi government, whoever leads it, will inherit contradictions that cannot be postponed much longer: the need to diversify beyond oil, to deliver services that match public expectations, and to assert sovereignty without alienating powerful patrons. Whether Mohammed Shia al-Sudani secures another term or not, his tenure will be judged less by ideology and more by his ability to keep the state functioning amid turbulence. 20 years after its first democratic election, Iraq remains both fragile and formidable — a country that has survived war, sectarian collapse, and external manipulation but still struggles to turn endurance into progress. As Iraqis head to the polls, their choice is not just between candidates, but between continuity and disillusionment. The world watches, uncertain if this election will mark another rotation in Iraq’s cycle of compromise, or the first step toward a more self-reliant and accountable republic.
