Sunnis vs. Shi'ites

Last night I read the cover story from the March 5 issue of TIME magazine entitled "Why They Hate Each Other." Written by Bobby Ghosh, it covers the chasm that has developed between Sunnis and Shi'ites in Iraq, and which is now spreading throughout the region. It probably wasn't the best thing to read before trying to go to sleep, but I found it fascinating.

If you haven't given much attention to or don't fully understand the sectarian violence ripping apart Iraq, this article is a helpful primer. I've read other articles about the history of tension between the two sects, but what this article highlights is how quickly the situation has deteriorated. There's always been animosity, but there was a semblance of civility and cooperation—even neighborliness—as little as 18 months ago. But now that's all but been swept away.

The introduction of the article powerfully illustrates the situation:

It has come to this: the hatred between Iraq's warring sects is now so toxic, it contaminates even the memory of a shining moment of goodwill. On Aug. 31, 2005, a stampede among Shi'ite pilgrims on a bridge over the Tigris River in Baghdad led to hundreds jumping into the water in panic. Several young men in Adhamiya, the Sunni neighborhood on the eastern bank, dived in to help. One of them, Othman al-Obeidi, 25, rescued six people before his limbs gave out from exhaustion and he himself drowned. Nearly 1,000 pilgrims died that afternoon, but community leaders in the Shi'ite district of Khadamiya, on the western bank, lauded the "martyrdom" of al-Obeidi and the bravery of his friends. Adhamiya residents, for their part, held up al-Obeidi's sacrifice as proof that Sunnis bore no ill will toward their Shi'ite neighbors across the river.

Eighteen months on, one of the men who jumped into the river to help the Shi'ites says al-Obeidi "wasted his life for those animals." Hamza Muslawi refuses to talk about how many he himself saved, saying it fills him with shame. "If I see a Shi'ite child about to drown in the Tigris now," says the carpenter, "I will not reach my hand out to save him." In Khadamiya, too, the narrative about Aug. 31 has changed. Karrar Hussein, 28, was crossing the bridge when the stampede began. Ask him about al-Obeidi, and his cheerful demeanor quickly turns sour. "That is a myth," hisses the cell-phone salesman. "That person never existed at all. He was invented by the Sunnis to make them look good." Rather than jumping in to help, he claims, the people of Adhamiya laughed and cheered as Shi'ites drowned.

The bridge connecting the two neighborhoods is now closed for security reasons—just as well, since the chasm between them is too wide for any man-made span.

I encourage you to read the full article for yourself. It is sobering, and yet another reminder of our world's desperate need for Jesus. The many chasms that divide humanity and fuel hatred and war and prejudice are truly "too wide for any man-made span." Let's pray for the kingdom of the Prince of Peace to come.