Chapter 1360
Parliamentary Trends
Chapter 1360 Parliamentary Trends
The news of Barzani's defeat and suicide was like a boulder thrown into a calm lake, creating ripples in Baghdad's power circles far exceeding those of an ordinary military victory.
The next morning, a subtle restlessness permeated the air in the Iligo Parliament building.
In the corridor, the members of parliament gathered in twos and threes, speaking in hushed tones, but their eyes were unusually bright—the instinctive reaction of politicians when they sensed a shift in the power structure.
In the Sunni caucus office on the second floor of Parliament, the heavy oak doors were tightly closed, and soundproofing material blocked out all sounds from inside and outside.
Inside, five core Sunni members of parliament sat around a mahogany conference table that dates back to the Saddam era.
Documents, teacups, and ashtrays were scattered on the table, and smoke rose slowly in the sunlight filtering through the blinds.
"The news is 100% confirmed."
Senator Khadri, who was in charge of security affairs, pushed the intelligence summary in his hand across the table and tapped it with his fingertips.
“I have verified this through three independent channels. Barzani’s body was found yesterday evening on a hill about three kilometers from Nassul Fortress. He had been shot in the temple and had a CZ75—his own sidearm—near him.”
Hashimi took off his rimless glasses and gently wiped the lenses with a velvet cloth.
This action gave him time to think.
He was the de facto leader of the Sunnis in Parliament, 53 years old, lean, always dressed in a well-tailored English suit, and looked more like an Oxford professor than an Iligo politician.
But those who know him know that beneath that scholarly exterior lies a political survival master who has survived unscathed through various events, including the Iran-Iraq War, the Gulf War, the Iligo War, and the Rise of 1515.
"Casualty figures?"
Hashimi put his glasses back on and looked at Khadri through the lenses.
"On the rebel side, approximately two thousand were killed, more than four thousand were wounded, and the majority of the rest were captured."
Kadri read out the numbers.
"The government forces, or rather the allied forces of Song Heping, suffered no more than five hundred deaths."
A collective gasp filled the office.
"A casualty ratio of one to four."
"This number is outrageous," muttered Zaid, a tribal representative from Anbar province.
"It's not just a matter of casualty ratio."
Intelligence committee member Jassim interjected, "The key is the speed at which the will to fight collapsed. From the news of Barzani's suicide to the complete surrender, less than three hours passed. What does this mean? It means..."
He paused, then scanned the crowd: "Song Heping's psychological warfare and encirclement tactics have been completely effective. This guy is a ruthless character."
Hashimi stood up and walked to the window.
Outside the window, the Tigris River gleamed with a murky yellow light under the afternoon sun, and on the opposite bank stood a cluster of buildings destroyed in the 2003 war that has yet to be fully restored.
Those ruins are a metaphor for the country—the war on the surface is over, but the deep wounds have never healed.
"And, most importantly, this."
Kadri pulled a record from the folder.
"Old Massoud, chairman of the Khord Autonomous Region Committee, spoke with Song Heping via encrypted line within two hours of the victory. According to reliable intelligence, Massoud promised to use all the political resources of the Khords in the parliament to fully support the proposal to incorporate the Samir troops into the 10th Border Guard Division of the National Defense Army."
The air in the office seemed to freeze.
“The Kold have sided with that Lord Dong.” Hashimi’s voice was soft as he glanced at the others present. “What does this mean? I don’t need to explain, do I?”
Zaid slammed his fist on the table, making the coffee cup rattle loudly.
"So we're just going to abandon our previous stance? Watch the government form another division, and a military force actually controlled by that Dongda guy? Do you even know where the 10th Border Division will be stationed once it's established? It will be in Anbar, Nineveh, and Salah al-Din provinces, all of which will fall under their control!"
"Calm down, Zaid."
Hashimi turned around, his face expressionless.
"Politics is not about acting out of spite, but about calculating interests."
He walked back to the table, and after a moment of silence, slowly said:
"Let's analyze the situation. First, the proposal to incorporate Samir's forces was exactly what the Shi'a-dominated government wanted. Why did they do this? Because Samir's 'Liberation Forces' are currently the most combat-effective irregular military force in Irigo besides the government army and the Kold forces. They have more than 8,000 men, are relatively well-equipped, have combat experience, and control important transportation lines from Mosul to Kirkuk to Tikrit."
"Secondly, why did we oppose it before? Because if this force were to be incorporated into the government, it would likely be used to suppress us Sunnis—especially in traditional Sunni regions like Anbar and Nineveh. This is a legitimate concern."
Hashimi then changed the subject: "But the situation has changed now. First, the Kolds are fully supporting this bill. Although they only have a 'relatively limited' number of seats in parliament, don't forget that on key issues, their votes often decide the outcome. Second, and most importantly, although the actual controller of this new force is Song Heping, who is hiding behind the scenes, I would like to ask, does he pose a threat to us?"
"As far as I know, Song Heping is a very independent person who is never manipulated by others. His relationship with the Persians is only one of cooperation, never one of subservience."
He looked around at everyone: "Do you really think that Song Heping would let this army, which he has personally supported, become a tool for the Ten-Aye faction to suppress the Sunnis? Personally, I think he has no interest in getting involved in the internal political struggles of Iligo, and even less interest in the struggle between us and the Ten-Aye faction. You should know that the people of Dongda University are all atheists. They do not have our religious and historical concepts, and they have no historical grudges with us."
Kadri frowned: "Why not? He has a good relationship with Nasreddin, the supreme commander of the Persian Revolutionary Guard."
"Having a good relationship doesn't mean he'll become someone else's henchman."
Hashimi interrupted, “I’ve studied this guy from East Asia. He came here in 04 to do small business, and later rose from a small security contractor to the ‘King of the Northwest’ he is today. He didn’t rely on taking sides, but on balancing. He cooperates with everyone, but is not controlled by anyone. Americans, Persians, Kurds, Tena’is, Sunnis. He can do business with them, but he will never completely side with any one side.”
Jassim nodded thoughtfully: "So he needs this new force to maintain a certain degree of independence. Not entirely subservient to Baghdad, nor entirely subservient to Erbil."
“Exactly.” Hashimi sat down again, leaning forward and staring at Kadri. “This is the opportunity we should be looking for. Since the bill’s passage is a foregone conclusion, there’s no point in us opposing it. We might as well change our attitude and take the initiative to support it, and be the first to stand up and express our support.”
Zaid remained unconvinced: "Isn't this tantamount to surrender?"
"This is not surrender, it's a deal."
Hashimi's eyes sharpened.
"We can gain influence in the formation of the new force by supporting the bill. More importantly, we can use this to improve our relationship with Song Heping, or at least avoid offending him. Zaid, what benefits do you think we would gain from offending him?"
He paused, then his tone became even more serious:
"Do you know what the US Embassy is doing right now? My informant told me that Ambassador Stevenson has tried to contact Song Heping three times to invite him to 'lunch.' The Turkish ambassador, the Persian chargé d'affaires, the ambassador from the Camel Kingdom—Song Heping is on everyone's schedule at the top of their list. Even the Russian Trade Representative Office has sent a message wanting to discuss 'security cooperation.'"
"The whole world is reassessing this person's worth."
Hashimi concluded, "As an important political force in Iligigo, if we cling to our original stance at this time, we will be marginalized. What is politics? Politics is standing with the right people at the right time."
There was a full minute of silence in the office.
Finally, Khadri spoke first: "I agree with Hashimi's assessment. By changing our stance now, we can secure the greatest benefit. Waiting until the bill is about to pass before supporting it will only be icing on the cake, not a lifeline."
Jassim nodded in agreement: "Intelligence indicates that Prime Minister Maliki's office is prepared to invite Song Heping to serve as a special advisor to the Ministry of Defense after the bill is passed. If we get there first..."
“Then let’s do it now. We might as well take the lead.” Hashimi picked up the landline on the table.
"Connect me to Song Heping's satellite line. Tell him that you are Ali Hashimi, the leader of the Sunni parliamentary group, and congratulate him on his victory, and that you would like to speak with him when it is convenient for you."
He pressed the speakerphone button, allowing everyone to hear the conversation. The dial tone before the call connected seemed exceptionally long in the quiet office.
At the same time, forty kilometers west of Erbil, a temporary prisoner-of-war camp.
The midday sun shone directly on the Mesopotamian plain, baking the sandy land to a scorching heat, and the heat waves made distant scenery distort and sway.
The temporary prisoner-of-war camp covered approximately twenty hectares and was divided into three areas by barbed wire: officers' quarters, non-commissioned officers' quarters, and soldiers' quarters.
Each area has a watchtower with machine guns mounted on it, but the muzzles are pointed upwards.
This is Song Heping's order.
"Pointing the gun upwards indicates that we are in control of the situation, but our aim is not to cause harm."
He told the officer in charge of guarding the area this.
“Pointing guns downwards is intimidation. What we need is order, not fear.”
At this moment, Song Heping stood in the shadows outside the command tent, looking at the scene of the soldiers' quarters in the distance.
Thousands of prisoners are lining up for lunch.
Simple flatbread, chickpea puree, a touch of olive oil, and pickles.
The column moved slowly but in an orderly fashion. Most of the prisoners kept their heads down, with only a few secretly glancing at the armed soldiers outside the cordon.
My phone vibrated in my pocket.
Song Heping took it out and glanced at it; it was an encrypted number from Baghdad. He moved to a more secluded spot and answered the call.
“General Song? I am Ali Hashimi, a member of the Iligo Parliament.”
The voice on the other end of the phone was polite, with the slickness typical of politicians.
"First of all, please allow me, on behalf of myself and my colleagues, to congratulate you on your brilliant victory. The suppression of the Barzani rebellion is a significant contribution to the unity and stability of Iligo, and we, all who cherish this country, are sincerely grateful for it."
Song Heping's lips curled up slightly.
Hashimi, of course he remembered this person.
Previously, at a parliamentary defense committee hearing on the reorganization of Samir's irregular armed group, this Sunni leader was one of the most vocal opponents.
He delivered a passionate speech on television, accusing the reorganization plan of being "a conspiracy by Prime Minister Maliki to expand the military control of the Ten Aye sect," and even suggesting that it could lead to "a new round of sectarian conflict."
“Thank you, Mr. Congressman.” Song Heping’s voice was calm as still water: “I simply completed the agreed-upon task.”
“You’re too modest.” Hashimi’s obsequiousness could be felt even through the radio waves: “This is not just about fulfilling a contract; it’s about saving thousands of lives and preventing Koldestan from descending into a full-blown civil war. History will remember your achievements today.”
Typical politician flattery.
Like a cloyingly sweet candy.
Song Heping remained silent, waiting for the other party to get to the point.
"In fact, I called to express our full support for your work."
Hashimi, as expected, changed the subject and said:
"In particular, regarding the bill to reorganize General Samir's 'Liberation Forces' into the 10th Border Guard Division of the National Defense Forces, after careful study and discussion, my colleagues and I believe that this is a wise decision that is in the national interest. We will withdraw our previous objections and vote in favor in the parliamentary vote."
Song Heping could almost picture the scene on the other end of the phone:
Hashimi sat at the mahogany conference table, surrounded by his core advisors, all holding their breath and waiting for his reaction.
This transformation was so sudden and so thorough that there is only one explanation.
They counted the votes and knew that opposing was pointless, so they decided to preemptively curry favor and secure future benefits.
“I am very grateful for the support of the congressman.”
Song Heping remained calm: "I believe General Samir would also be pleased to hear this news. He has always hoped that his troops could serve the country in a regular capacity."
“Of course, of course,” Hashimi quickly replied. “General Samir is a patriot, and his troops have made significant contributions to the fight against 1515 and maintaining local stability. Such forces should rightfully be incorporated into the national system.”
He paused, his tone becoming more cordial: "Actually, if possible, I would like to have the opportunity to visit you in person to discuss some possibilities for cooperation. For example, during the formation of the new force, there are many outstanding young people in our Sunni community who are willing to serve the country. They are educated in military academies, have leadership qualities, but simply lack opportunities."
A typical political deal.
Hashimi wanted to place his own people in the new army to expand the influence of the Sunnis, while also building up personal connections with Song Heping.
“I welcome any exchange,” Song Heping replied noncommittally. “However, military affairs are currently very busy, with prisoner resettlement, equipment inventory, and troop reorganization. There are countless things to do. We can arrange a meeting once the situation stabilizes.”
"Completely understand, completely understand."
Hashimi immediately replied, “You go ahead with your business. I’ll have my office keep in touch with your assistant, and we can meet again when it’s convenient for you. Congratulations again on your victory, General Song. You’ve done a great thing for Iligo.”
call ended.
Song Heping put his phone back in his pocket and stood still.
In the distance, a small commotion broke out among the prisoners.
Someone cut in line and was shoved by the other prisoners. The sentry immediately blew his whistle, and two soldiers ran over to maintain order.
Order was quickly restored.
Is this what victory feels like?
Song Heping thought.
It's not just the smoke and blood on the battlefield, but also the eager flattery of politicians over the phone, the realignment of various forces, and the quiet redrawing of the power map.
Abuyu wants to rejoin the military council, Samir wants official status, the Khords want political rewards, and now the Sunnis want a piece of the pie too.
Everyone is calculating and trading.
And he, a foreigner, unintentionally became the central figure in this complex game.
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(End of this chapter)