For Iraq's Shiites, a Dream Deferred Breeds Mistrust of U.S.

Suneid, an owlish civil engineer and poet who favors dark, rumpled Western suits, is among the many Shiite former exiles who owe their current positions to the U.S. toppling of Hussein. He now sees Khalilzad trying to engage Sunni insurgents and former Baathists. "I don't mind if the Americans are talking with our enemies," Suneid said. "But they should not change their strategy."

"Who are the secularists?" demanded Adeeb, the Shiite lawmaker, his eyes tightening. "The secularists are the Baath Party."

"It means the base of their thinking is not stable," he continued, referring to the Americans. "They are going to lose the Shiites. And they won't win the Sunnis back, because they attacked them at the beginning. So now both sides will lose confidence in the United States."

Michael McClellan, chief spokesman at the U.S. Embassy in Baghdad, said Khalilzad was aware of the Shiites' concerns but said it had not affected his ability to work with Maliki and other Shiite leaders.

"These issues often require compromises by the parties involved, and sometimes they do not like that," McClellan said in an e-mail. "This is true of both Sunnis and Shiites, but we do not favor one group over another."

Another Turning Point

From his wallet, Baghdad shop owner Abdul Amir Ali pulled out two yellowing black-and-white passport photos of his brothers. In the 1980s, Hussein ordered their executions, along with more than 100 other men from the northern town of Dujail, in retribution for an attempt on his life. One brother was 20, the other 23.

When Hussein was sentenced in November to death by hanging, Ali felt his loyalty to the Maliki government deepen. Like many Shiites, he had rejoiced when U.S.-led forces invaded Iraq -- "I behaved like a crazy man," he recalled. And he knows that without the fall of Hussein, he would have never seen justice for his brothers.

Seated in his shop, in the affluent, mostly Shiite neighborhood of Karrada, Ali and his brother Usama expressed concern that U.S. officials were pushing the government to allow thousands of purged Baathists who did not commit atrocities to resume their old jobs.

"This is a big mistake," said Usama Ali, 30, a stocky, bald man with a scratchy voice. "Saddam's people should not be allowed to participate in the political process."

The U.S. pressures and growing mistrust have emboldened Shiite leaders. They are demanding more autonomy and control over Iraq's mostly Shiite security forces, as well as urging U.S. forces to fight Sunni insurgents instead of Shiite militias, which are forging Shiite enclaves across Baghdad.

That worries Sunni leaders. "The U.S. needs to send a clear message: We will act toward Iraqis in a fair and equal way," said Ayad al-Sammarae, a prominent Sunni politician. "We can't punish one criminal and forgive another."

In October, in the government's strongest assertion of sovereignty yet, Maliki ordered U.S. forces to lift a blockade of Sadr City, the huge Shiite slum in Baghdad. For everyday Shiites, it was another turning point in their relationship with their liberators. "This is the first time he has stood up to the occupiers," Abdul Amir Ali said with pride. "It was like a victory for us when the Americans obeyed Maliki."

Still, Lefta feels "a second betrayal" coming. "The Shiite people dream of democracy, real democracy," he said, as men filed toward the Rahman Mosque's prayer hall. "But what is taking place is exactly the opposite. The Americans want to guarantee the minority at the expense of the majority."

Along the tall wall encircling the mosque compound, posters of Shiite politicians from the most recent U.S.-backed election predominate, save for one lone patch. There, squeezed between the Shiites, are images of two Sunni politicians, their faces obscured, their posters torn.