FEBRUARY/MARCH 2006

iraq news
DEATH SENTENCES MAY SURGE IN IRAQ SINCE RE-INSTATED BY NEW GOVERNMENT
Iraq hangs 13 for insurgency role

The Iraqi authorities have hanged 13 people accused of taking part in the insurgency, the first execution of militants since the US-led invasion.

"The competent authorities have today carried out the death sentences of 13 terrorists," a cabinet statement said.

The name of only one of those executed was released. Shuqair Farid, a former policeman, allegedly confessed he had enlisted Iraqis to carry out attacks.

Three convicted murderers were hanged last September.

The US-led coalition abolished the death penalty in Iraq after the overthrow of Saddam Hussein, but it was re-instated during the handover to Iraqi control in June 2004.

The Iraqi government wanted to give itself the option of executing the former president, who is currently on trial with seven others for the killing of 148 Shias from the village of Dujail in 1982.

New law

In October, the Iraqi Transitional National Assembly passed a new law which extended the use of the death penalty to include "those who commit... terror acts" and for "those who provoke, plan, finance and all those who enable terrorists to commit these crimes".

The assembly also approved a sentence of life imprisonment to "whoever intentionally conceals terrorist activity or gives shelter to a terrorist for the purpose of hiding him".

Iraqi President Jalal Talabani is opposed to capital punishment and refused to sign the death warrants of those executed in September, instead authorising his deputies to do so.

The BBC's Andrew North in Baghdad says that, with more than 14,000 people currently in US coalition detention, it raises the possibility that there could be many more executions.

Tobji, A suburb of Baghdad
by Jon Brain,BBCWorld News

Before the Samarra bomb, when it was safe to travel, I had gone to see for myself how the residents of Tobji were doing their bit to combat sectarian violence with people of both faiths working together.

Falah was a genial, rotund man in his early fifties and I found him at the local council offices barking orders into the walkie-talkie which seemed clamped permanently to his ear.

In the gaps between delivering his instructions, he told me how the area had always been peaceful until three months ago.

Then the killings had started.

First a Sunni, then a Shia, then another Sunni and so on. All shot dead by unknown men who arrived at night by car.

Special guard

But, rather than allow the murders to divide the community, Falah and his neighbours decided to act.

They formed a special guard deliberately made up of both Shias and Sunnis and sealed their neighbourhood off from the outside world.

''And now all the killings have stopped,'' Falah told me, breaking into a huge grin.

"God willing, we are safe again.''

There is not really much to see in Tobji.

It sits rather meekly in the shadow of an ugly flyover, a passive recipient of the noise and pollution pumped out from the constant traffic thundering past.

Its main feature is its busy high street crammed with shops and outdoor market stalls.

Today it was alive with activity.

Barricaded streets

Falah showed me how every single side street had been barricaded off leaving just the main road open.

At each end were two checkpoints each manned by a group of earnest looking young men.

They were watching intently as each car approached.

Another group was patrolling the high street.

''Look, Shia and Sunni working together,'' Falah said proudly.

"And have you seen their badges?'' he asked.

Each of the guards had a piece of yellow card pinned to his chest.

''Our loyalty is to god and country,'' the card read. ''We don't belong to any party. We are the eyes for the people's safety.''

The young men believed they were helping their community stand up to outsiders trying to create divisions between them.

'Iraqis and Muslims'

''Terrorists, they want to make a war between us," said Mohammed, a slender man in his early twenties with a rifle slung over his shoulder.

But we don't care who's Sunni or who's Shia. We are Iraqis and Muslims."

His friend Ali agreed: ''We all live together here. I'm Shia but my sister is married to a Sunni. It's normal."

In the marketplace most people spoke positively of the security that Falah's checkpoints and patrols had brought about.

But one woman, who was clearly in mourning, was not so sure.

"I'm still frightened,'' she told me. ''People here are suspicious of each other these days. I'm frightened that more bad things will happen in Iraq.''

And then, of course, came the bomb attack on the shrine at Samarra.

I wanted to know if Tobji's bold initiative had survived the sectarian violence now tearing much of Iraq apart.

Because, if they had failed to pull through there, the prospects for the rest of the country were not good at all.

My Iraqi translator was told spies had been found operating in Tobji and there had been some sort of trouble.

I have not been able to reach Falah to ask him if his guards are still providing a blueprint for harmony or whether the killings have started again.