Shia and Sunni narratives in Bahrain, like in Northern Ireland, remain hard to reconcile – both see themselves as victims

This article is more than 9 years old

This article is more than 9 years old

Midsummer nights are steamy in Manama, and sweat glistened on thousands of faces as Sheikh Abdel-Latif Al Mahmoud boomed out a warning to Bahrain's citizens to stand guard against criminals and conspiracies.

Cries of "Allahu akbar" went up from a sea of red and white national flags and pictures of King Hamad bin Isa al-Khalifa – teenage girls in jeans alongside veiled women and heavily bearded men in dishdashas. "This land will not be sold," they chanted. "In spirit and blood we will redeem you, O Bahrain."

Sheikh Mahmoud, a Sunni religious leader, heads the Tajammu' al-Wahda al-Wataniya (national unity gathering), formed in February when the revolutions in Egypt and Tunisia inspired peaceful anti-government protests in the Arab world's smallest country, triggering a violent backlash whose consequences still reverberate.

Pro-reform demonstrations at Pearl roundabout were followed by marches that paralysed Manama's financial district and one that headed for the royal palaces in al-Rifa'a.

The drama peaked in mid-March when Saudi forces moved across the King Fahd causeway in a show of force that underlined Bahrain's particular fragility in a tough and intolerant neighbourhood.

Five months on, international interest in Bahrain has faded, but emotions here are still running high.

"My country was almost destroyed by political extremists," rages one Sunni businessman. Isa Darwish, a Christian from the city of Muharraq, complained of harassment by Shias from an adjacent village. "For the foreign media the Sunnis simply don't exist – so please tell our side of the story," a banker says.

Bahrain's status quo has been shaken. "Whoever invented the term Arab spring deserves a prize," quipped Sheikh Mahmoud, displaying gory pictures of wounds inflicted on Sunnis as the unrest escalated. "And they called them peaceful protests!"

Shias demanding equal rights are portrayed by Sunnis as fanatics who are cheered on by Iran. The communities' narratives, like in Northern Ireland and Israel/Palestine, are hard to reconcile.

Both see themselves as victims – though the suffering has been one-sided: most of the 33 dead, and the hundreds injured and imprisoned, are Shias and 30 Shia mosques, built without licences, have been demolished.

Ten days ago, on the eve of Ramadan, King Hamad – "a wise and democratic monarch", the media gushed loyally – was pondering the results of a "national dialogue" tasked to make recommendations for political and constitutional reforms, with slick western PR advisers on hand to spin the message.

Al-Wifaq, the main Shia opposition group, did not wait for the end. Its representatives walked out, protesting that their demands were being ignored.

"We met, we quarrelled, we drank tea and coffee and it provided some psychological relief," says, with a laugh, Munira Fakhro of the secular Wa'ad party (the National Democratic Action Society).

"But it was a forum not a dialogue. The barrier is still there." The question, says a worried foreign diplomat, "is what does the king do with it all?"

Expectations are higher for an inquiry into the "events" of February and March. Set up by the king under the American-Egyptian international lawyer Cherif Bassiouni, its English title is the Bahrain Independent Investigation Commission – though tellingly, the local Arabic papers refer to it as the "royal" commission.

Its report, due in October, is likely to name those responsible for unlawful killings and other abuses. Bassiouni, a highly regarded veteran of UN and other inquiries, describes King Hamad as an "enlightened monarch who deserves support" and believes he will act on the recommendations.

Opposition supporters are not so sure – but hope he is right. "Terrible things were happening in Bahrain just a few months ago," says Mansoor al-Jamri, who has just been reinstated as editor of al-Wasat, the country's only independent newspaper, after being forced by the government to step down.

"They've said, 'We've killed who we've killed and now let's move on.' Issuing press releases isn't going to be enough. There has to be substance."

Government officials in Manama are anxious to project a new sense of stability: the next Formula One Grand Prix is to be held in November 2012 and banking confidence is holding up – but restoring calm at home looks hard.

The national dialogue did express support for a "fairer" electoral system but there are no plans to change constituency boundaries or other mechanisms that preserve Sunni control: one Shia constituency has 15 times as many voters as a small Sunni one – classic gerrymandering.

No wonder critics were quick to dismiss the dialogue as a sham. "An exercise in make-believe," is the blunt conclusion of a new report by the International Crisis Group.

And the king, it seems likely, will continue to appoint the prime minister and rely on an unelected upper chamber of parliament to keep MPs in check and his own power untrammelled.

And there is no sign that the government will halt its controversial policy of "political naturalisation" of non-Bahraini Sunnis – imported from Syria, Jordan, Yemen and even Pakistan – to fill the ranks of the security forces (from which Shias are largely excluded) – to tip the demographic balance.

Census figures are not available but independent observers assume that Shias still make up at least 60% of Bahrain's native population. Sunnis dislike discussing this sensitive subject – and are not always consistent when they do.

"The Shia are not the majority," insists Anwar Abdulrahman, outspoken editor of the pro-regime daily Akhbar al-Khaleej. "Or if they are it is only 51% to 48%."

It was Abdulrahman's newspaper that famously called the US president "Mullah Obama" because of Washington's pressure for reforms that many Sunnis fear will empower the Shia and serve Iran's strategic interests.

In this highly charged atmosphere it is easy to forget that before this year's crisis, Bahrain, for all its shortcomings and sectarian divide, was the most liberal country in the Gulf.

Yet prospects for change now look bleak. Salman, the reformist crown prince, has been marginalised. Encouraged by the US and Britain to maintain dialogue with the opposition, he was outmanoeuvred by Sheikh Khalifa, the king's uncle, who holds the record as the world's longest serving prime minister – since 1971.

"An obvious move would have been for the king to sack Khalifa," says an intellectual, who defines himself as a member of the Sunni silent majority.

"But that is harder now because it would be interpreted as sympathetic to Shia demands and would alienate the Sunnis, which he can't afford to do.

"You can use the police and the army to control the Shias but the Sunnis are the police and the army. Personally, I would rather live under a family than a sect."

The curiosity is that Bahrain might not have had its place in the Arab Spring at all.

"If some people had kept their heads it could all have been avoided," suggests a foreign observer, who was in Manama as the government panicked and hardliners on both sides called the shots.

It will not be easy to repair the damage. Sheikh Mahmoud, talking long after the Tajammu rally ended and the shouts of patriotic support had died away, admits the government cannot embrace the reforms sought by the Shias at the same time as maintaining the Sunnis' traditional dominance.

"Our society has been broken in two," he says. "We are still guided by sectarian and tribal principles. Democracy is only a way for people to share in the running of the country when there is civil peace.

"We want the rule of law, but if electoral reform leads to sectarian war in Bahrain should we go through that door? Any regime has to provide services and security for everyone."