Dr Hogr Tarkhani
“…a relational perspective shows that militias’ persistence is not just about their internal cohesion or ideology, but about how they hook into broader social and institutional networks – from local business elites, to clerical establishments, to international financial networks”
Everyday security and the shadow of protection
Walk through many parts of Iraq and the first thing people mention about militias is not ideology or geopolitics, but security: who protects the road, who controls the checkpoint, who will come if there is a problem. Since 2003, the collapse and slow rebuilding of the Iraqi state have left ordinary communities facing a dense network of armed actors, the Popular Mobilisation Forces (PMF), smaller local militias, tribal forces, and criminal networks, all claiming to provide protection.
This is a classic security dilemma, but lived in very concrete ways. Shia neighbourhoods armed because they feared jihadist attacks; Sunni communities tolerated or joined armed groups because they feared collective punishment by state forces; Kurdish areas consolidated their own forces in disputed territories. Each side insists its mobilisation is defensive, yet each new rifle, checkpoint, or convoy looks threatening to someone else.
The Civil War Paths’ Building Bridges series has shown how civil wars are influenced by relations between actors rather than by static “groups”.
Work on rebel groups in Syria, for instance, shows the messy mix of cooperation, rivalry, and conflict management that emerges among armed actors over time.
Iraq is no different. Militias are not simply “outside” the state; they are embedded in family networks, religious institutions, political parties, and business interests. Understanding why they stay requires us to look at these relationships, and at how fear and profit become tightly intertwined.
From self-defence to the business of security
In Iraq, many militias began with clear grievance-based justifications. Shia groups such as Badr and later the PMF framed themselves as protectors of vulnerable communities and holy shrines; smaller groups like the White Flags and Jaysh Ahrar-Sunni emerged in disputed territories where neither Baghdad nor Erbil could guarantee security. Over time, however, some of these actors moved from providing security to owning it.
Research on Iraqi militias shows how access to money, contracts, and territory gradually turns defence into a business model. Once integrated into the security forces in 2016, PMF brigades began receiving salaries, weapons, and logistics from the state while simultaneously inserting “ghost fighters” on payrolls, winning government contracts through front companies, and controlling customs, ports, and scrap and construction markets.
In oil-rich provinces and at key border crossings, armed groups charge unofficial “fees” on lorries, fuel tankers, and everyday trade, sometimes generating hundreds of thousands of dollars a day.
For local communities, this creates conflicted relationships. On the one hand, militias do provide protection, jobs, and access to services in areas where the state is weak. On the other hand, those same groups extort businesses, kidnap for ransom, and control the informal economies of drugs, gambling, and prostitution.
Residents cannot easily “opt out”: refusing to pay a checkpoint fee or challenging a local commander can be life-threatening. The result is a relational trap in which people depend on, fear, and resent the same actors.
The state is similarly locked in. Iraqi governments have tried to fold militias into formal institutions to regain control, only to find that these actors use their official status to expand their economic and political reach. Efforts to disarm or restrict Iran-aligned groups repeatedly run into the risk that they might retaliate, split, or turn their guns on state institutions. Recent interviews with Iraqi officials and militia leaders suggest that even when some militias signal willingness to disarm, it is conditional on guarantees that rivals, including other militias and foreign forces, will not gain the upper hand.
Rethinking security dilemmas as relational and economic
What does this Iraqi story add to relational approaches in civil war studies? First, it pushes us to see the security dilemma not just as an inter-group conflict (Sunni versus Shia, state versus militia), but as a layered set of relationships. Communities fear other communities, but they also fear being abandoned by the state; state officials fear both jihadist resurgence and the backlash of powerful militias; external patrons fear losing influence if their allies stand down. Each actor’s attempt to feel more secure, raising a brigade, signing a new contract, keeping a smuggling route open, changes the incentives and fears of others.
Second, the Iraqi case shows that security dilemmas and war economies are not separate stories. The same checkpoint that protects a village from ISIS also brings in daily cash; the same “shrine protection” narrative that mobilised volunteers now helps control lucrative religious tourism.
As a result, proposals for disarmament or integration are evaluated both in military terms (“will we be safe?”) and also in economic ones (“what happens to our salaries, networks, and leverage?”).
Finally, a relational perspective shows that militias’ persistence is not just about their internal cohesion or ideology, but about how they hook into broader social and institutional networks – from local business elites, to clerical establishments, to international financial networks. Civil War Paths’ focus on relational, processual analysis offers a useful lens here: instead of asking simply “why won’t militias put their guns down?”, we ask how everyday interactions, economic deals, and overlapping roles as state agents and local protectors gradually make armed presence feel normal, necessary, and profitable.
