[Bluestar]

"If security in Iraq can be provided - and it's a big if - then we have great hope," says a Baghdad economics professor who herself survived an assassination attempt last year (and also asked not to be named). "Three years has been a short time for women to be mainstreamed in the political establishment, but women have had the courage to expose themselves as activists. They have a chance to prove themselves outside of the home, to establish NGOs, to work in parliament and in the private sector." But asked if she believes that security will improve in the long term, her optimism disappears. "No. It is not in the interest of the different groups that make up the government for the security situation to get better. The domination of the religious parties, which is a negative for women, is helped by the insecurity. The ground is emptied for them."

While the new constitution has empowered women in parliament, she fears that what it has to say about the family may have had the opposite effect in the home. A committee reviewing the constitution is due to present its final amendments to parliament by the end of the year, and an alliance of women's organisations has been lobbying for the removal of article 41, under which the old statutory family law will be replaced with a new system where marriage, divorce, custody and inheritance will be determined according to the different religions and sects in Iraq.

Campaigners argue that this would strengthen the control of religious institutions and give "constitutional legitimacy to sectarianism". Most of all they fear an explosion in violence against women as traditional tribal codes take hold.

But only two of the committee's 27 members are women, and many of the women MPs represent the more conservative religious parties. Some are escorted everywhere by their husbands. A cabinet minister in Baghdad tells me: "The Islamisation had already started under Saddam, but now it is much more pronounced. My young son came to me laughing and showed me what he had in his schoolbook. It was a verse from the Koran saying that when a man has a son in his family he will be happy but when a girl is born he will be sad. They had made them learn that."

Many meetings for MPs are now held outside the country. One evening earlier this year I joined a group of women MPs in Amman who were attending a UN gathering on women's rights. During a traditional Jordanian meal of mansaf - lamb cooked in goat yoghurt - one of them, Samira al-Musawi, a member of Iraq's ruling Shia alliance and chair of the women's committee in the Iraqi parliament, said: "We are making progress, because now we are a democracy and we can discuss these issues together." Her faced framed in black, she dismissed the concerns over article 41 and said that "only one or two" members of her committee wanted it changed. Reaching forward for some green salad known locally as zjerzil, she suddenly pulled back. "It is haram - forbidden," explained her companion, and then in an undertone: "It increases sexual desire." I broke off a small corner of the leaf. It was a kind of rocket.

At another table, an Arab Sunni MP in a white headscarf disagreed pointedly over article 41. "We want the old law back, we and the Kurds, but the Shia prevent it. You want to know what the situation of women is? How many widows are there now?" But her bitterest comments were reserved for Iraq's prime minister, Nuri al-Maliki. Earlier that week three members of the interior ministry's public order forces had been accused of raping a Sunni woman, who was admitted to a hospital in the government's fortified green zone compound. Two days later, Al-Maliki publicly rejected the woman's account and instructed that the policemen should be honoured. "They may have done it, or they may not, but how could he just say she was lying before any proper investigation had been done? He has turned them into heroes."

The coordinator of a women's organisation in Baghdad, who asked not to be named, says some groups target women - through kidnapping or sexual assault - "to make a family weak". "A girl was raped and returned to her family but she committed suicide rather than face the shame. Saddam was a dictator but at least then we had the freedom to go out. Then there was only one criminal - Saddam - but now they are everywhere, you do not know who your persecutor is."

Claims of rape being used as a weapon of war to humiliate and terrify communities are now frequently made against all the main parties in the conflict, and not just Iraqi forces. Since 2003 US forces have denied numerous allegations that soldiers have raped and abused female detainees or held them as bargaining chips in the hunt for family members wanted as insurgents. But the Pentagon's Taguba report into abuse at Abu Ghraib prison confirmed that US military police had photographed and videotaped naked women prisoners and referred to a guard "having sex with a female detainee". Earlier this year, four US soldiers were found guilty of the rape and murder of 14-year-old Abeer Qasim Hamza and three members of her family in Mahmoudiya, south of Baghdad, in an attack the US military had at first blamed on Sunni insurgents. Abeer's body had been set on fire, her killers believing that their guilt could be burned away.

Rapes carried out against Shia or Christian women have been justified by insurgent groups as revenge for what was done to women in Abu Ghraib. But the extent to which the abuse of women has become both the vehicle and the justification for sectarian hatred in Iraq was demonstrated most chillingly in the April killing of Du'a Khalil Aswad. A 17-year-old from Nineveh, Du'a was stoned in front of hundreds of men, some of whom videoed what happened on their mobile phones.

Climbing steadily past olive groves north of Mosul, the road into Du'a's home town of Bashiqa is dominated by the conical shrines of the Yezidi sect, an ancient religion that predates both Islam and Christianity. Their veneration of a fallen angel in the form of a blue peacock has led to the common slur in Iraq that the Yezidis are devil-worshippers and the community suffers entrenched discrimination.

After Du'a's death, the international media widely repeated a claim made on a number of Islamic extremist websites that she had been killed because she converted to Islam, but local reports do not concur. Some people tell me she had run away with her Muslim boyfriend and they had been stopped at a checkpoint outside Mosul; others say she had been seen by her father and uncle just talking with the boy in public and, fearing her family's reaction, they had sought protection at the police station. Either way, the police handed Du'a into the custody of a local Yezidi sheikh. One woman tells me that after she was stoned in the town square, Du'a's body was tied behind a car and dragged through the streets.

But the killers' taste for publicity quickly backfired. As the videos circulated around mobile phones in the region, and were even posted on the internet, Islamic extremists called for Yezidis to be killed in revenge. Meanwhile Du'a's body was exhumed and sent to the Medico-Legal Institute in Mosul so that tests could be performed to see whether she had died a virgin.

Just after 3pm on April 22 a bus carrying workers from a textile factory in Mosul back to Bashiqa was stopped at a fake checkpoint. Gunmen ordered the Muslims and Christians off the bus and drove it to the east of the city. They then dragged out the Yezidis. They were lined up, there was a shout of "Allah, curse your devil" and then they were shot. Other Yezidis living in the city started fleeing to the countryside, as an extremist Sunni group claimed responsibility. In all 24 Yezidi men were killed.

Three days later, I was printing out the first local reports of the massacre at a ramshackle business centre in Irbil when the manager approached me. "What do you know about it?" he said, anger breaking his habitual deference, as he dropped my print-outs on the desk. I asked him what he thought about the case. "Look what has happened now because of her," he said, jabbing his finger at the headlines. "She was a very bad girl".