On 3 December 2024, when the armed Syrian opposition, led by Hayat Tahrir al-Sham (HTS), which had already taken Aleppo, was preparing to storm Hama, Iraqi Prime Minister, Mohammed Shia’ al-Sudani, made a phone call to Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan, generally regarded as close to HTS, with a warning: “Iraq will not be a passive spectator of the serious repercussions of events in Syria.” Two weeks later, when the Syrian regime had collapsed and Bashar al-Assad was in exile, it seems however that Baghdad has indeed remained a spectator of this major regional upheaval, leaving to its fate one of the founding members of the “Axis of Resistance”. Apart from geopolitical considerations, this cautious wait-and-see policy may also be explained by the dynamics of Iraq’s own political scene which reveal the precariousness of the strategic alliance centred on Iran.
Hot and cold relations
There is nothing structurally determinant about solidarity between Baghdad and Damascus. In fact the contemporary history of relations between the two countries is marked by rivalry when it is not one of outright hostility. In 2003, the overthrow of Saddam Hussein put an end to the warming of diplomatic ties initiated by a young Bashar Assad when he came to power three years earlier. From then on, the latter would facilitate the transit via Syria of jihadists bound for Iraq to fight the US occupation. But relations between the two countries were not normalised until 2006.
Yet in the meantime, Baghdad continued to share certain concerns with Damascus and was frankly supportive when it came to dealing with dangers common to both. The 2011 revolutionary episode in Syria made the Iraqi power structure nervous, worried as it was by the dissident movements in governorates with a Sunni majority. And especially by the rise of the “terrorist” threat, which culminated in the founding of the Islamic State (ISIS) in 2014. The war that followed sealed the two neighbours’ common destiny, since it was on the border between them that the ideology and activities of the jihadi group were incubated and propagated.
At that time Baghdad became one of the rare Arab capitals to maintain its embassy in Damascus, to vote against Syria’s suspension from the Arab League and to reject the imposition of sanctions. But apart from these diplomatic aspects, their relations were still strained. It was not until July 2023, when the Syrian dictator had been taken back into the Arab League, that Mohammed Shia’ al-Sudani went to Damascus, for the first time since the start of the revolution in 2011. And he invited the other Arab countries to end Syria’s isolation, especially in the name of security cooperation and the fight against “terrorism” and drug-trafficking1.
Iraq’s inclusion in the “Axis of Resistance” is less to be explained by the attitude of its government, which confined itself to diplomatic support without entering the war itself, than by a parallel dynamic, led by another type of actor: Iraqi para-military groups, sent into Syrian territory in 2012-2013, with strong backing from Iran. Reinforcing the Syrian army on the pretext of protecting the sacred sites of Shiite Islam, such as the Sayyida Zaynab shrine complex south of Damascus, many Iraqi Shiite armed groups joined the conflict in Syria alongside the Iranian Revolutionary Guards and the Lebanese Hezbollah. These factions, all committed to the Iranian ideological model, either existed already - like the Badr organisation or the Kataeb Hezbollah for example – or they were formed for the occasion like Liwa’ Abu al-Fadhal al-Abbas, or were the result of splits from other groups. Several, such as Kataib al-Imam Ali and Asa’ib Ahl al-Haqq, resulted from a split with the movement of the Shiite leader Moqtada al-Sadr.
Grass-roots mobilisation against the Islamic State
In 2014, the fall of Mosul came as a shock to Iraq, and these groups partly returned to their home ground, while maintaining a presence in Syria. Responding to the religious authorities’ appeal to come to the defence of the nation, they enlisted tens of thousands of volunteers and were gradually institutionalised under the label of the Popular Mobilisation Forces. Its legalisation as a regular armed force in 2016 gave it unprecedented access to the material and symbolic resources of the State. As this absorption into the state moved forward, a distinction was drawn, at least formally, between the “brigades”, registered under the Mobilisation and placed under the orders of the Prime Minister, and the “factions”, operating outside this framework, even when brigades and factions belonged to the same armed group.
Little by little, and especially after the assassination by a US drone, in January 2020, of Abu Mehdi al-Muhandis, founder of the Kateb Hezbollah and operations chief of the Mobilisation, the armed groups played on that distinction to disclaim responsibility for certain operations, particularly in Syria. Indeed such actions could meet with the disapproval of a part of the Iraqi political class and of the population at large - all the more so as this cross-border armed involvement was disputed, including by the highest Shiite clerical authorities in Iraq. Thus a number of “straw” factions were created, claiming responsibility for attacks which were devoid of any clearly established paternity though the perpetrators declared themselves members of the Popular Mobilisation which assured their wages and official status. Hence the Mobilisation as such has not been officially deployed outside of Iraq; the fighters belonging to the factions stationed in Syria are there as members of the “Resistance”. Some of these groups regularly launch attacks from Iraq or Syria against US or Israeli interests in the name of the “Islamic Resistance in Iraq,” especially in the context of Israel’s war in Gaza and Lebanon. Such actions do not amount to a serious threat.
Hawkish declarations and the waiting game
On the eve of the rebel offensive against Aleppo at the end of November 2024, the Iraqi factions were still present on Syrian soil, particularly in the eastern governorate of Deir al-Zor. While the fall of Damascus seemed imminent, the factions were still supporting the regime by mobilising the fighters already on the ground, reinforced by several hundred more men from Iraq and a number of recruitment drives. They also wanted the Iraqi government to send regular troops. But these were not forthcoming. While voicing his concern, the Prime Minister refused to comply, explaining before Parliament that he had no intention of dragging the Iraqi population into another war. The head of the Popular Mobilisation also excluded any involvement. Meanwhile, border security with Syria was conspicuously reinforced.
The fall of Damascus and the flight of Baathist regime officials settled it for the Iraqi Resistance factions; even before the regime actually collapsed, they began sending their fighters home. And as early as 7 December, more than 2,000 Syrian soldiers had crossed the border and found refuge in the Iraqi governorate of al-Anbar. Mohammad al-Jolani, HTS commander, recorded a video addressed to the Iraqi Premier in which he assured him of his intention to establish renewed political and economic ties with Iraq and his determination not to allow events in Syria to destabilise that country. While videos showing humiliations or even crimes inflicted on “Resistance” members in Syria circulated on social media, the promise not to harm the Shiite sanctuaries seems to have been kept. At the same time, Tehran has opened a channel of communication with HTS. Certain Iraqi factions cited their membership of the Popular Mobilisation to justify having abandoned the struggle.
Everything does seem to indicate that in the days preceding the fall of the Syrian regime, the Iraqi Premier chose not to commit the regular army and to leave the support of Bashar to the Resistance factions. But these also balked, probably for fear of Israeli air-strikes. Were these decisions taken by the actual players on the ground? Did the Iraqi Prime Minister withstand Iranian pressures? Or, on the contrary, was his stance in tune with Tehran’s own analysis, the Iranians having perhaps decided, even before the Aleppo offensive, to abandon their Syrian ally, useless in his own country, non-existent in the war against Israel and increasingly disloyal? We will perhaps know the answer when we learn the actual contents of the negotiations between the various regional powers, especially in Baghdad and in Doha. Until then, we can attempt to analyse the shifts in the balance of power between political forces in Baghdad.
Changes in Baghdad
Mohammed Shia’ al-Sudani, a product of the Shiite Islamist party al-Daawa, has no electoral base. As a disciple of former prime minister Nouri al-Maliki, it was mainly because he was thought to be a yes-man that he was appointed in 2022 to extricate the country from a political stalemate, his former mentor hoping to benefit from his time in office to prepare a comeback himself. Contrary to all expectations, al-Sudani became popular. The first Iraqi Premier in recent times not to have dual nationality, to have grown up and studied in Iraq, he had focused his efforts on the development of major public works, marginalising groups beholden to Iran and negotiating the departure of the last US troops present in the country. He is now cherishing the hope of regaining office after the coming parliamentary election, planned for autumn 2025.
To achieve this, he has two options. Either he establishes himself as the candidate of the alliance that put him in place, the Shiite Coordination Framework, which includes, in particular, the political wings of the groups forming the Popular Mobilisation and the armed Resistance factions. Or else he puts together a new coalition. The first option appears compromised, especially by the scandal in which al-Sudani has been entangled since the summer of 2023. It involves the phone-tapping of several leaders of the Coordination Framework and members of their families, clearly orchestrated, at the very least, by very close collaborators of the Prime Minister. Which leaves the second option involving an alliance with Moqtada al-Sadr, one of the few Shiite dignitaries to have supported what he considered from the very beginning to be an authentic revolutionary movement in Syria.
In this respect, events in Syria seem to have provided a political opportunity for al-Sudani. They enable him to assert the sovereignty of Iraq, to avoid dragging the country into war and to maintain a posture of neutrality which could prove useful with the advent of a new administration in Washington. Moreover, they allow him to demonstrate the Popular Mobilisation’s loyalty to the state, to oblige the factions to follow his lead and to safeguard Turkish-Iraqi relations, now rapidly developing. Internal manoeuvres within the Shiite Coordination Framework to replace him, notably conducted by Nouri al-Maliki, have floundered accordingly.
A defunct alliance ?
Whether these negotiations will give birth to a new political course in Iraq or, as is more likely, to a pursuance of the partisan games to which the country is only too accustomed and which have never challenged the deep structures of the state’s dysfunction, it is undeniable that something new is afoot. After the damage done to the Lebanese Hezbollah, the Iraqi factions constitute the only substantial armed actors, ideologically aligned with the Islamic Republic of Iran, to have retained a capacity for action. There is also Ansar Allah (the Houthis) in Yemen, but they remain a marginal actor with their own system of political and religious legitimation.
The ease with which the Prime Minister has reasserted a position of non-intervention and the reluctance of many fighters in the Resistance factions to go to the rescue of the Syrian regime attest to this change. Moreover, the rapidity with which the majority of the Shiite political class ultimately espoused the Prime Minister’s position, show that as an Axis stronghold, Iraq had already in fact stepped aside some time before.
This change has no doubt been determined by external constraints and first of all by the assassination in 2020 of Qasem Soleimani, head of external operations for the Iranian Revolutionary Guards, and of Abu Mehdi al-Muhandis. However, it would be a mistake to overlook the social, political and economic evolution of the different components of the Axis. In Iraq, society longs for an end to the non-stop violence, many cadres from the armed groups have gone into politics and achieved notability, and the reference to a nation-state has become more prominent in public debate and within the factions themselves - all of which has certainly contributed, as has Tehran’s exasperation with the ousted Syrian president, to the transformation of the “Axis of Resistance”. Yesterday’s dream of an ideological front has been reduced to a mere tactical alliance, which, if not actually defunct, has at least been rendered irrelevant by the fate of its creators.
Translated by Noël Burch.
1Editor’s note: Syria under Assad was considered a narco-state. Locally-produced Captagon represented an essential resource, bringing in an estimated $5bn (€4.8bn) for the ruling clan.