In the heart of Baghdad’s restless political scene, a single rumor was enough to send tremors through the corridors of power. On Sunday, Iraq’s Popular Mobilization Forces, known widely as the PMF, moved quickly to quash reports that its chairman, Falih Al-Fayyadh, had been nominated for the post of vice president. The denial was firm, almost dismissive, framed as a necessary response to what the organization called “suspicious” social media chatter and misleading news reports. For those who follow Iraqi politics closely, the moment felt familiar: a story emerges from an unnamed source, spreads like wildfire across platforms, and then crashes into an institutional wall of denial. The PMF did more than just reject the claim; it promised legal action against those spreading what it described as false information. Yet the very insistence of the denial left many wondering whether the idea had ever been floated behind closed doors, and if so, why it had surfaced now. In a country where political narratives are often weaponized, the line between fact and fabrication is frequently blurred, and the public has learned to read between the lines of official statements.
The source of the original report was an informed insider who spoke to Shafaq News earlier that same day, claiming that political blocs within the State Administration Coalition had reached a preliminary agreement to revive the long-dormant vice presidency posts. According to that account, two names were put forward: Falih Al-Fayyadh of the PMF and Mohammed Al-Halbousi, the leader of the Taqaddum, or Progress, Party. The proposal was said to be part of a broader power-sharing arrangement, one that would redistribute influence among Iraq’s competing factions. Al-Fayyadh, a figure deeply embedded in the security establishment and a close ally of Iran-backed groups, would represent the Shia political and militia axis, while Al-Halbousi, a Sunni Arab politician and former speaker of parliament, would bring the Sunni component into the executive branch. On paper, the arrangement made sense: Iraq’s informal consociational system allocates top positions among sectarian and ethnic groups, and a revived vice presidency could serve as a symbolic and practical balancing mechanism. But in practice, the idea of resurrecting a constitutional office that had been abolished years ago stirred old tensions and reopened debates about how power should be distributed in a country still struggling to emerge from decades of conflict.
To understand why the vice presidency has become such a delicate issue, one must look back at the recent history of Iraqi governance. The position was not always vacant; in fact, it was once a fixture of the political landscape, with multiple vice presidents representing different communities. But in 2015, then-Prime Minister Haider Al-Abadi abolished the posts as part of a widely publicized reform drive aimed at shrinking the bloated state apparatus and responding to mass protests demanding an end to corruption and inefficiency. At the time, the move was celebrated by many Iraqis who saw it as a step toward leaner government. However, the constitutional legitimacy of the decision was immediately questioned, and in 2016, Iraq’s Federal Supreme Court overturned the abolition, ruling that the Constitution requires at least one vice president. The court’s decision, though legally binding, did not lead to a swift restoration of the office. Instead, the positions remained unfilled, caught in a strange limbo between constitutional mandate and political inertia. Successive governments chose not to appoint vice presidents, treating the office as optional in practice despite the court’s ruling. This gap between law and reality became a quiet symbol of Iraq’s broader governance problems: institutions exist on paper, but their activation depends on the shifting calculations of political elites.
The PMF’s denial of Al-Fayyadh’s nomination is significant not only because of the man at the center of the story, but because of what it reveals about the organization’s current standing. The PMF began as a coalition of mostly Shia militias that mobilized in 2014 to fight the Islamic State after the Iraqi army collapsed in Mosul. Over time, it evolved into a formal state institution, officially placed under the prime minister’s command, yet retaining deep ties to Iran and a powerful independent political and military identity. Al-Fayyadh, a former national security adviser, has served as chairman of the PMF Commission for years, navigating a delicate path between Baghdad, Tehran, and Washington. Any suggestion that he might leave his post for a largely ceremonial vice presidency could be seen as either a promotion or a sidelining, depending on one’s perspective. His supporters might view it as a recognition of his importance; his critics might see it as an attempt to move him away from direct control of armed forces. By issuing a categorical denial and threatening legal action, the PMF sought to end the speculation and reaffirm that Al-Fayyadh remains fully committed to his current role. Yet the very need for such a statement suggests that the rumor touched a nerve, perhaps because it resonated with ongoing discussions about how to restructure Iraq’s executive branch after the formation of a new government.
The political context adds another layer of complexity. On October 15, the Iraqi parliament approved three deputy prime ministers and eleven cabinet nominees under Prime Minister Ali Al-Zaidi, a significant step in the long and painful process of government formation. However, the vote left the Ministry of Migration and Displacement unfilled, a glaring gap in a country that still hosts millions of internally displaced people and refugees from years of war. The incomplete cabinet highlights the difficulty of balancing sectarian quotas, party interests, and personal ambitions. Prime Minister Al-Zaidi, who came to power after months of deadlock, must navigate a fractured political landscape in which no single bloc holds a clear majority. The State Administration Coalition, an umbrella group of major parties, was created precisely to manage such tensions, but its internal negotiations are rarely smooth. The revival of the vice presidency could be seen as another item on this crowded agenda, a way to accommodate powerful figures who demand a share of executive authority without taking on the heavy responsibilities of running a ministry. Yet the PMF’s denial suggests that not everyone is eager to embrace that solution, at least not publicly. In Iraqi politics, the gap between what is proposed in private and what is admitted in public is often vast, and official statements are frequently designed more to manage perceptions than to reveal truth.
For ordinary Iraqis, the entire episode may feel like yet another round of elite musical chairs, a game played far above their daily struggles with electricity cuts, unemployment, corruption, and the lingering threat of violence. The vice presidency, whatever its constitutional status, has little direct impact on the lives of citizens who are more concerned with basic services and security. Yet the debate around it matters because it reflects a deeper unresolved question: how should Iraq be governed? Should power be concentrated in the prime minister’s office, or should it be distributed across multiple executive positions representing different communities? The Constitution offers a framework, but it is ambiguous enough to allow for multiple interpretations, and political actors have learned to exploit that ambiguity for their own benefit. The Federal Supreme Court ruled that at least one vice president is required, but no one has enforced that ruling for years, and the current government seems in no hurry to change the status quo. The rumor about Al-Fayyadh and Al-Halbousi may fade, as rumors often do, but the underlying issues remain. Until Iraq’s leaders find a sustainable balance between legal requirements, political realities, and the needs of the people, the country will continue to lurch from one crisis to the next, with every new appointment or denial becoming another chapter in an unfinished story. For now, the PMF has spoken, the legal threats have been issued, and the political class will move on to the next controversy. But the question of the vice presidency, like so many other institutional puzzles in Iraq, has not been truly settled, and it will likely resurface again whenever factions feel the need to renegotiate their share of power.