Sadr's Disciples Rise Again To Play Pivotal Role in Iraq

Added Kurdi, the militiaman: "It depends on them, whether they got a lesson or not."

An Ardent Believer

A few days before the clash in Najaf, a call went out from Sadr: The time for the government to deliver electricity, water, fuel and other necessities was up. The next step, he said, was protests. If those failed, he promised, more would follow.

One of those who answered the call was Hamid Abdel-Hussein, a slight, 22-year-old psychology student with 13 brothers and sisters. He showed up early at the outdoor prayers in Sadr City on Friday, passing the time by reading devotional prayers to a Shiite saint.

In the Sadr movement, Abdel-Hussein is what might be termed a target for its message. He studies at Baghdad's Mustansiriya University, but he said he has no hope of a job. The government, he said, "claimed it was here to serve us, and now it works against us." Sadr stands alone in defending his interests, he said; he made no distinction between the father and the son.

"We were waiting for someone," said Abdel-Hussein, his beard still tentative, as he sat barefoot on a worn red prayer rug. "We were lost and he came to save us. Sayyid Moqtada, all his steps and actions come from God," he added, using an honorific for the cleric.

"Sayyid Moqtada is paving the road ahead for the people," Abdel-Hussein said. "He's surrounded by enemies. You can see. He's the only one who speaks about what's right. He stands alone. His line is sharp, and he never compromises his position."

There are moments in conversations in Iraq when politics transcend the rules the Americans and their allies play by: The questions are not about negotiations, compromises and bargains. Terms like "democracy" and "individual rights" ring hollow. Abdel-Hussein's words were infused with something larger and more mystical. They had an unyielding quality to them, the absolutism of faith.

"God instructs Sayyid Moqtada to do his work," he said.

At 1 p.m., the prayers began. There were 20,000 people, perhaps more. Afterward, the protest began, a silent march as Sadr ordered. At the same time, others took place in at least eight other Iraqi cities, drawing thousands more.

"The country of two rivers is without water, a country of oil is without fuel," one banner read. "Iraq will remain without fuel, water and electricity as long as the occupation remains," another said. A sign behind it declared: "Oh occupier, our oil is for us, not you."

As they tramped the streets, clouds of dust swirled under a relentless sun.

"Apparently words are useless," Abdel-Hussein said, "so silence is better."

He walked past carcasses of vehicles destroyed in last year's fighting, still strewn across the street. Past a mosque where Hussein's forces crushed an uprising by Sadr's followers in 1999. Past a burst water main. Past the slum's ubiquitous green sewage. The protest to Abdel-Hussein was not a call for action; on their own, no one would answer their demands. Their audience, he said, was God.

"He will bring mercy," Abdel-Hussein said, "and force the people who see our protests to accept our demands."

He gazed across the crowds of people, marching ahead. "God," he said, "is the first and the last."

Special correspondents Salih Saif Aldin in Tikrit and Hassan Shammari in Baqubah contributed to this report.