Iraq has a new prime minister, but not yet a full government. Ali al-Zaidi was sworn in on Thursday after securing parliamentary approval for only fourteen of his twenty-three ministerial nominees, leaving nine portfolios, including the crucial interior and defence ministries, in abeyance. The 266 votes cast in favour of the truncated cabinet, as reported by state media, ended weeks of political deadlock but underscored the fragility of the coalition underpinning his administration. Viewed from Baghdad, the session was less a vote of confidence than a negotiated pause: several deputies walked out or shouted objections, and the speaker postponed decisions on the remaining posts until after Eid al-Adha.

That pause is the product of competing pressures that have long defined Iraqi governance. Washington, according to sources familiar with the process, demanded that Zaidi submit his full ministerial list to the US embassy for scrutiny before the parliamentary vote. American diplomats, acting on explicit instructions from the Trump administration, vetted each name to prevent any candidate with close ties to Tehran-backed factions from taking office. This intervention, which Zaidi’s team accepted after a late-night meeting with the US diplomatic corps, explains why the interior and defence ministries—both coveted by Iran-aligned groups—were left unfilled. Analysts in London note that the American veto has produced a government that is, in effect, a holding operation: the incomplete cabinet satisfies neither the Iraqi street nor the armed factions that have shaped post-2003 politics.

Zaidi’s public programme offers a clue to the intended direction. In his address to parliament, he vowed to enforce a state monopoly on weapons, a direct challenge to the myriad militias that operate with impunity across the country. The pledge, echoed in official statements, aligns with Washington’s insistence that Iraq curb the influence of Iranian-backed paramilitary networks. Yet from Tehran’s perspective, as commentators in the Iranian press observe, no Iraqi government can ignore the power of the Shia political blocs that the Islamic Republic has cultivated for two decades. Zaidi himself is a relative unknown—he lacks a popular base, a clear electoral history, or the sort of accumulated political capital that previous premiers possessed. His ascent, propelled by backroom deals rather than public mandate, leaves him structurally dependent on the very factions he is meant to restrain.

The immediate consequence is a government that governs provisionally. With nine ministries in limbo, including labour, planning, and culture alongside the security portfolios, Zaidi cannot claim operational control over the state apparatus. The Kurdish region secured the retention of Fuad Hussein as foreign minister, while the oil portfolio went to Basim Mohammed Khudair after intense bargaining. But the core question of who will command Iraq’s security forces remains unresolved. Forward-looking analysis in the region suggests that the delay is deliberate: a means of keeping the most contentious posts off the table until the United States and Iran signal their terms. For the millions of Iraqis who only know their prime minister from the sudden movement of official motorcades in the Green Zone, this government offers more questions than answers. Whether Zaidi can turn a partial cabinet into a durable administration will depend on his ability to navigate between the American veto that installed him and the Iranian-backed networks that could unseat him. The immediate test will come when parliament reconvenes after the holidays and must fill the empty chairs—a decision that will reveal, more than any oath of office, the true balance of power in Baghdad.