Why these particular names? And why choose to unearth these scattered memories now? I may not have a definitive reason, but I realize that the Governing Council was a pivotal station in Iraq's history, and in my personal history as well.
Samir Al-Sumaida'i
The name Samir Shakir Mahmoud Al-Sumaida'i was associated with the Iraqi opposition as an independent liberal democratic activist. He is one of the prominent technocratic figures who left a mark on the opposition scene abroad and then in the corridors of power after 2003. He studied electrical engineering in Britain, from which he launched into the world of business and design, becoming a pioneer in using computers in Islamic art. However, what truly distinguished him and endeared him to me was his refined ethics, wide cultural background, and interest in poetry, literature, and art—he is a talented poet before being an ambassador or minister, earning him deep respect among Iraqi intellectuals.
Al-Sumaida'i contributed to the Iraqi Democratic Union with Mohamed Al-Dhahir, Farouk Radha'a, Buland Al-Haidari, Muwaffaq Fotouhi, and others—an organization aiming to gather competencies adopting a democratic civil approach. Despite my participation in the Union and specifically in its administrative body, I felt bitterness toward the fragmentation suffered by the democratic opposition movement. I believed that democrats like Samir belonged in the "Iraqi Democratic Assembly," but the fragmentation afflicting liberal and leftist parties—driven by personal ambitions and differing backgrounds—made the dream of unity impossible.
I recall with sorrow those negative positions that isolated the Assembly and entrenched the approach of blocs and power centers, where self-interests played a role in reinforcing this division. While some administrative body members sought to assert their independence by distancing from leftist forces and inflaming disputes with Communist Party leaders and its organization in Britain, Samir did not appear as part of this conflict—his likeable and gentle personality prevented him from engaging in those enmities.
I held great respect for Samir as a rational and calm voice, but my preoccupation with academic duties at the University of Birmingham, which consumed my time and effort, prevented me from strengthening my personal relationship with him or frequent association with opposition figures at that time.
Thanks to his sobriety and clean hands, his name was proposed as a technocratic choice to represent the "Sunni component" in the Governing Council, but as an independent liberal figure far from Islamic party coloring. In my last meeting with him at his office before leaving the homeland, he received me with kindness and warmth, but I sensed a silent bitterness in his eyes—he was laboring under the weight of "worldly affairs" and the burdens of responsibility weighing on the heart of every person who preferred clean hands in an era of tensions.
Recently, after his retirement, we renewed communication when he expressed a desire to settle in Rabat, preferring it as a cultural center over Marrakech where his brother (Muhi Al-Sumaida'i) lives. He visited me in Rabat more than once, and we searched together for suitable accommodation meeting his conditions, but he seems to have recently reconsidered.
This reconsideration left a pang in my soul and a hidden sorrow—I had hoped for a close friend in Rabat sharing my visions and ideas, to revive together under the shade of friendship the memories of London and the concerns of Iraq in sessions filled with mutual appreciation.
Today, I try to compensate for that absence by traveling in the worlds of his poetry, through his recently published collection (The Path of Life... Collected Poems), which he had gifted me a copy of. I have made this book my constant companion on the desk, close at hand, to draw me occasionally from the dryness of continuous intellectual and writing effort, giving me a charge of literary spirit I need.
Mohamed Bahr Al-Uloom
Amid this mix, Sayyid Dr. Mohamed Bahr Al-Uloom stood out as one of the most respected Islamic figures I approached and admired. He was one of Iraq's most respected Imams, a man overflowing with sobriety, openness, and noble character, earning the respect of democrats for his balanced positions. I remember his constant pride in my science, and his amazement at my ability as an academic to endure the exhausting noise of political meetings, which he sometimes saw as "futile."
Sayyid Bahr Al-Uloom looked at me with pride, as if my presence as a professor at a prestigious British university within opposition ranks gave our movement a touch of sophistication and scientificity he longed to generalize. He would often whisper encouraging words at the end of long sessions, affirming that "science is the most potent weapon for building the coming Iraq." He was keen to present me in international forums not merely as an opposition politician but as an Iraqi scientist raising his country's name in global academic forums. He seemed to find in my personality that bridge connecting the authenticity of Najaf and the urbanity of London, strengthening my confidence in the viability of combining my scientific role and national struggle.
In a moment of clarity during a discussion with Dr. Majid Al-Yasiri—the communist leader and esteemed psychiatrist—Sayyid Bahr Al-Uloom raised his turban and placed his hand on his head saying with great humility: "I consider myself before the communists in Najaf." He did not mean the literal meaning, of course, but was an eloquent expression of his deep appreciation for the communists' struggle and historical sacrifices.
Among the unforgettable memories from the early 1990s was his invitation for me to give a lecture at the "Ahl al-Bayt Center" in London on "Aging and Life Extension," addressing the horizons of genetic engineering. The hall was packed with a large crowd from opposition and expatriate spectrums, led by turbaned religious scholars. It was a gathering where secularists, civil society, Islamists, and communists assembled under the patronage of a dignified religious figure—filling me with pride and adding a nationalist luster to my academic career.
I was amazed then by the flexibility of discussion, as some religious scholars expressed open positive views on contentious issues like "test-tube babies" and transplanting pig organs into humans. One even supported my scientific thesis on the possibility of life extension by citing the Quranic verse about Prophet Noah, who lived among his people "a thousand years save fifty," making religious miracle a support for scientific truth in a striking intellectual paradox. Another religious scholar followed with a jurisprudential analysis permitting the use of pig organs to save human lives.
It can be said that in 2003, I specifically visited Sayyid Bahr Al-Uloom more than I did other Governing Council members. I remember him once confiding his hesitation and deliberation in accepting nomination for council membership—he was not fully convinced of this entity's ability to guarantee full sovereignty transfer to Iraqis.
He was among those who nominated me for a ministerial position in the incoming government, but this nomination did not find its way to implementation. The reason was his nomination of his son 'Ibrahim' for a ministerial portfolio, while the agreement stipulated each member could propose only one candidate. I fully understood his position—he seemed eager for his son Ibrahim to begin his political journey from its widest doors.
Ahmed Chalabi
History records Ahmed Chalabi's name as one of the most prominent figures who left a clear mark on the path of modern Iraq. Chalabi possessed a remarkable ability to navigate the corridors of international politics, but his career also revealed the great challenges of aligning major political ambitions with the complexities of Iraqi reality, especially in an environment dominated by political polarization. Chalabi was a man of ambitions transcending borders, seeing himself as the savior and maestro who would lead Iraq to the shores of security. He thought he was moving chess pieces, while in reality—like others—he was part of a geopolitical game beyond his calculations.
I met Chalabi after the Beirut Conference, specifically in the "Joint Action Committee" in London. Chalabi in that committee would come and go mysteriously, and when present, seemed absent-minded, paying no attention to our discussions—as if his mind was occupied with deals or plans more important than us. At that time, his name was mentioned as overseeing the engineering of the "Iraqi National Congress." In one session, he appeared suddenly to distribute invitations and travel tickets to Vienna. Although my name was among the invitees, I declined to attend—I had developed a conviction that the conference was proceeding under a full American umbrella, and more importantly, I felt slighted that my comrades in the Assembly, led by its secretary Saleh Dakleh, were not invited.
A human position with him reflects the circumstances of that period. After the Second Gulf War, I established the "War Victims Relief Campaign" to help Iraqi children. When I asked him to contribute to covering our advertisement costs in the "Guardian" newspaper, he expressed kind willingness and promised significant financial support. Based on this promise, I paid the costs from my own pocket. However, that contribution did not materialize despite reminders—perhaps his accelerating political preoccupations at that time prevented him from fulfilling that commitment, leaving me questioning his priorities.
During the 1990s, Chalabi preferred individualistic work methods, seeking to create a following around his personal vision rather than building a classic organizational institution. This made working with him difficult for some democratic colleagues who believed in institutionalization. With his political acumen, Chalabi was able to secure the "Iraq Liberation Act" of 1998, which later paved the way for the 2003 events.
The "De-Ba'athification" File
After the change, Ahmed Chalabi's ambition to lead the next phase was clear and accompanied by high self-confidence—confidence that sometimes appeared in his private conversations about his political future. With responsibility came controversial files, including the "De-Ba'athification" file managed according to his political vision. The primary goal was preventing the return of the former dictatorial regime. This file had significant complexities and sensitivities in universities—where I was part of the concerned higher education committee—and selectivity not unnoticed by an academic eye, leading to widespread confusion I wished to avoid. Among its errors was including professors in rare specialties for merely reaching the rank of active member or brigade member—ranks which academics, as I was told, were forced to reach to ensure scientific promotion or obtain academic benefits. Standards were not uniform across universities—what was considered a crime in one university was overlooked in another based on the person's influence or relationships with new political forces. Some professors escaped de-Ba'athification because they joined Islamic parties, leading to unqualified individuals assuming high administrative positions (deans, university presidents), and university leadership elections contributed to their occupying top positions.
In our meetings, there was a kind of rivalry and difference in visions—he recognized my intellectual independence and closeness to the civil and communist currents, while I looked with caution at his political maneuvers. In one session in the Green Zone during the formation of ministries, he mentioned that I was among the best candidates for the Ministry of Higher Education or Education, but my communist coloring would prevent that. When I asked if the decision was his, he answered that my presence would provoke Islamists, especially since communists would be represented by only one minister with no room for their affiliates. He saw, with political pragmatism, that satisfying rising Islamic forces required particular balances—illustrating how quotas sometimes imposed their conditions even on advocates of modernization like him.
Thus was Ahmed Chalabi—a figure rich in intelligence and ambition, living at the heart of political storms, leaving behind a legacy that will remain subject to reading and analysis for years.