Religious Conflicts Loom in Iraq

Mohammed Salem Abu Bakr was a devout Sunni Muslim and a seller of religious books, who ran a small business from a rickety stand outside a mosque in Baghdad.

After U.S. troops overran Baghdad in April, Abu Bakr's hatred grew. He once pulled a large knife from a wooden cabinet, ran his fingers along its blade, and said, "Do you think it's sharp enough to slaughter an American?"

When the 35-year-old father of four was killed Aug. 29, however, it was not in a fight with U.S. troops; it was in a gun battle with Shiite Muslims.

While much attention has focused on the zeal of Iraq's Shiite Muslim majority, Abu Bakr's death highlights another side of the picture, and the potential for further violence and score-settling between Shiites and the Sunnis who were dominant as long as Saddam Hussein was in power.

The clash that claimed his life was one of the first of its kind in the Iraqi capital since the collapse of Saddam's regime in April. It came on the day a bomb killed a Shiite cleric and at least 85 other people outside a mosque in the holy city of Najaf. A week later three gunmen fired at worshippers leaving the Sunni Quiba mosque after dawn prayers, wounding three people, according to Walid al-Azari, the mosque's imam. The mosque is only several hundred yards from where Abu Bakr lived in the mainly Shiite Baghdad neighborhood of al-Shaab.

Abu Bakr, who spoke to The Associated Press many times between January and July, had a strict interpretation of Islamic teachings. As an Arab and a Muslim, he was deeply offended to see non-Muslims running his country.

U.S. officials have dismissed those attacking U.S. troops in the "Sunni Triangle" north and west of the capital as remnants of the Saddam regime, but others suspect they represent several different groups, among them Sunnis who oppose the occupation on religious grounds.

"You know why we in Iraq are occupied?" Abu Bakr asked in June, lying on a mattress on his living room floor nursing a leg broken in a fight which he never explained. "It's because we abandoned our religion. I have already spoken to my wife about what she should do when I die. Our dignity and glory are in jihad (holy struggle) and our weakness is in loving life and dreading death. Why should I linger in this world when I can seek martyrdom and meet my maker."

His appearance bore the hallmarks of a devout Muslim — beard, baggy trousers and a dark mark on his forehead which Muslims call a "zibiba" or raisin. It comes from the forehead scraping the carpet during prayer.

Neighbors said Abu Bakr was a Wahabi — a follower of an austere brand of Sunni Islam practiced mostly in Saudi Arabia. When the Americans overran Baghdad in April, his militancy grew, they said.

He spent the final weeks of his life writing a book about his experiences in a government militia along with fighters from Syria, Libya and Morocco who formed a line of defense against approaching U.S. troops.

In the epilogue, he wrote: "We don't wish for any other Muslim nation to experience what we are going through here. We want Islam and nothing else. Yes, for Islam is our lost identity which we must regain."

After Baghdad fell, friends say, his militancy became directed not only against Americans but against Shiites, many of whom felt that Saddam was ousted.

"Lately he was very abusive to Shiites in the area," said Jawad Kazim, 25, a neighbor. "He was fine until Saddam's fall and then he changed completely and began to say that Shiites are `kafara,'" infidels.

Word spread among neighborhood Shiites that Abu Bakr had defaced a poster of a Shiite cleric. A mob, including his old schoolmates with whom he played soccer as a youth, attacked his house in the hours after the Najaf bomb. Neighbors said Abu Bakr had gloated over al-Hakim's death.

After an intense 2 1/2- hour battle, Abu Bakr was dead, probably from a grenade. He was found on the roof of his house clutching a Kalashnikov when U.S. troops stopped the battle. Two of the attackers were also killed.