Here’s a harrowing must-read article by Steven Vincent at National Review: The Ungovernable Shiites.

As I’ve written here before, during my two trips to Iraq I’ve studied the Shia — praying in their mosques, attending their religious gatherings, interviewing their clerics and, most of all, examining their teachings and iconography. This last aspect particularly startled me: severed heads, amputated hands, Arabic letters dripping blood — and that’s what found in mosques. On the street, you can buy Iranian-made posters which depict Hussein, resembling a bearded 1970s rock star, in a number of pathetic scenes from the Battle of Karbala: Hussein holding his six month-old son Ali Ashgar, an arrow protruding from the baby’s throat; Hussein cradling, Pietá-style, the bloodstained body of his nephew Qasem; Hussein’s own decapitated head, rapt in orgasmic death-ecstasy. It’s as if the Shia conflated the myths of Mary and Christ into a single masculine image of martyrdom and sorrow. (So intent is Shiism on gender-cleansing its mythology that, as one story relates, it wasn’t Fatima who suckled her infant sons Hussein and Hasan, but Mohammad, using saliva from his tongue.)

The Shias’ most holy day is Ashura, which commemorates the Battle of Karbala — a military disaster in which Hussein, leading an entourage of family and supporters, was besieged and massacred by his Damascus-based rivals, the corrupt Umayyad clan. To explain their hero’s defeat, the Shia wove an elaborate web of fable and legend, complete with heroic last stands, valiant speeches, skies that wept blood and, above all, holy martyrdom. Hussein, we are told, knew he would die at Karbala, but went anyway, sacrificing himself — and, somewhat inexplicably, his family and friends — in order to discredit the Ummayads and keep the pure light of Islam alive. Echoes of Gethsemane and Golgotha are obvious, except there is no resurrection, no happy ending for the Shiites-only endless weeping for Hussein and guilt for those ancient Iraqis who failed to help him.

This year’s Ashura was the first that Shias could publicly observe in years, thanks to the Coalition’s overthrown of Shia-hating Saddam Hussein. Days beforehand, Baghdad and points south were festooned with religious banners, painted drops of blood frequently oozing from the beautiful Arabic script. Meanwhile, from seemingly every cab and kabob-stand boomed religious music — lugubrious lamentations for the death of the holy Imam. During this period, in fact, Shiites are not supposed to be happy. Weddings are banned, birthdays are not celebrated (although Muslims don’t go much for birthdays — only death days), while this year, religious extremists forced Christian liquor salesman in Baghdad to close on Fridays — even though it is still legal, for now, to sell booze on the Islamic sabbath.

Ashura itself is an orgy of death imagery. Giant bloody signs spelling out Hussein’s name draped down the facades of Karbala’s two main mosques, while a fountain sprayed geysers of blood-red liquid. Mirrored replicas of Hussein’s bier, decorated with ornate vases and artificial flowers, glittered everywhere, while winding through the crowd were men with blood-soaked bandages wrapped around their head and faces to stanch the bleeding from self-inflicted sword wounds. Meanwhile, cadres of male worshipers marched through the throng, chanting and beating their breasts or flogging themselves with metal chains.

Photos of the Ashura ritual: 1 2 3 4 5