An Afghan having a shave in a barber shop

Following the fall of the Taliban, Afghans started shaving their beards. Following the fall of Saddam Hussein, Iraqis are growing theirs.

The sudden and unmistakable assertion of majority Shiite religious and political identity is the least expected outcome for America of the Iraq war.

The remarkable pilgrimage by about 1 million faithful, including women, to the holy cities of Najaf and Karbala is the first real symbol of post-Saddam Iraq. It is of far more importance than the photo-op toppling of his statue in Baghdad.

What made it even more potent was its anti-American undercurrent.

But its message was no different than the one emerging from the other segments of the diverse Iraqi nation: "Thank you for freeing us from Saddam but now, please, go home."

Can anyone recall a time in history when the liberators of an oppressed people outlived their welcome in so short a period?

Sure, some of the anti-Americanism is the ideological flag of one or the other of the Iraqi factions competing for power. Some may even be the work of the agents or supporters of Iran.

But there is no mistaking the indigenous unease against the foreign occupation.

Long before the bombs fell, Iraqis knew that their country would not have been targeted had it been a major producer of, say, corn rather than oil.

What they have seen since, and like even less, are the early manifestations of the American agenda.

They see sufficient troops and tanks protecting the oil fields of the south and the north, even the oil ministry in Baghdad - a reasonable precaution in itself - but none for the national museum and rare libraries.

They see the Pentagon airlifting the Iraqi exile Ahmed Chalabi, its puppet, as their next ruler. They see American troops guarding him and training his hastily assembled militia of 600; but none for the most basic policing for urban areas.

They see President George W. Bush rule out the United Nations as a neutral referee to usher in the dawn of the promised democracy.

Various groups, not Shiites alone, have therefore been grabbing what turf they can and asserting their political presence.

Some stepped in to provide food and medicine and to restore law and order. The most poignant stories during the days of chaos and confusion came from mosques, where clerics shamed the faithful into returning looted goods and behaving better with fellow human beings - of all faiths.

The mullah of a minority Sunni mosque in Baghdad invited the Shiites for last Friday's communal prayers, a rare ecumenical act. After the service, both groups called for the occupiers to depart. More >>

The Shiites are clearly leading the anti-American charge, for two reasons: It's a branding exercise for some in the power struggle between several factions, and, regardless of group, all saw democracy as their chance at ending decades of discrimination but feel the fix is in against them.

They are being tainted by Americans with the Islamic and Iranian brush.

Islamic most of them are. Secular elements, such as the one represented by Chalabi, are mostly imported. It turns out that Saddam's persecution of Shiites made them more religious.

But penalizing them for their faith is like barring Bush or Stockwell Day from contesting elections.

Shiites are the minority sect of Islam but they form the majority in Iran and Iraq and have a natural affinity for each other. But their differences go beyond geography.

Their most fundamental theological difference is over political activism. Its most fervent advocate was the late Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini, and its opponent is the current leading Iraqi cleric, Grand Ayatollah Ali-Sistani of Najaf.

The latter has been unhappy at how oppressive the Iranian model turned out to be.

Clerics active in politics are themselves divided between hardliners and moderates - as in Iranian supreme religious leader, Ayatollah Syed Khameini vs. President Mohammed Khatami. These differences are reflected in Iraq as well.

Iraqi Shiites are further divided among those who struggled under Saddam's tyranny and those who fled it. Among the exiles, the ones from Iran are more acceptable than those from the West.

Yet America has distanced itself from most religious Shiites.

And Defense Secretary Donald Rumsfeld has lately been complaining of Iranian interference. (If outsiders have a right to influence events in Iraq, shouldn't neighboring Iranians be well ahead of Americans in the line?)

The leading Iraqi Shiite leader most linked to Iran is Ayatollah Mohammed Bakr al-Hakim. He has been living in Tehran for nearly 20 years. As part of the Iraqi National Congress umbrella, he has had contact with the Bush administration. But, lately, he has been shunned.

He responded by boycotting the meetings of potential leaders being orchestrated by the Americans. He also called on pilgrims to Najaf and Karbala to turn the event into a demonstration against America. Many did.

Another leading group is also sitting out the consultative process.

Hakim and other Shiites have signed on to a pluralistic Iraq, with respect for majority religion as well as minority rights for the Sunnis and Kurds. We need to hold their feet to the democratic fire.

Shunting them aside, or letting them conclude that the promised democratic process is a sham, is to push them into active resistance.

Given that five factions - two Shiite, two Kurdish and one pro-American - have militias, a la Afghan warlords, the hope for a peaceful transition fades.

This is no time to be making historic mistakes.

Haroon Siddiqui is The Toronto Star's editorial page editor emeritus.