Welcome to the LSE IDEAS Blog

LSE IDEAS is a centre for the study of international affairs, diplomacy and grand strategy at the London School of Economics. This blog features articles, resources, reviews and opinion pieces from academics associated with LSE IDEAS.

Friday 28 May 2010

A Decade for the Israeli Withdrawal from Lebanon: How Much Has Changed?

By Yaniv Voller

Ten years ago, in May 2000, the Israeli Defense Force (IDF) withdrew from Lebanon after almost two decades of military control over South Lebanon and ended direct political interference in Lebanese political affairs.

The IDF’s withdrawal from Lebanon, popularly described as Israel’s Vietnam, was perceived by commentators to bring a radical change to the region’s geopolitics. Some, particularly in Israel and outside of the Middle East, saw the withdrawal as yet another phase in the ongoing peace agreements between Israel and its neighbours and a necessary step toward a comprehensive peace agreement with Lebanon. But those remained a minority amidst sceptics on both the Israeli and the Arab side.

For many in Israel, and particularly those in the military circles and the right wing parties, the withdrawal meant the loss of Israel’s deterrent force vis-à-vis its enemies in the region. The combination of the withdrawals’ hasty and chaotic nature, the fact that it was done overnight and two months before the planned withdrawal date in order to surprise Hezbollah and to avoid Israeli casualties (perhaps the only success of the withdrawal), and the abrupt collapse of Israel’s long-time proxy, the South Lebanese Army, all served to further the beliefs Israelis who viewed the withdrawal as a colossal defeat. Retired senior officers, commentators and MPs predicted that soon Hezbollah, the Palestinians and the Syrians would use the opportunity to attack Israel in its weakness. They also predicted that South Lebanon would soon become a front between Israel and Iran –the state now free to position its armed forces in “Hezbollah-land.” Those who warned against the withdrawal were further vindicated when the Second Intifada erupted in the occupied territories less than four months after the withdrawal, Hezbollah kidnapped three Israeli soldiers and attacked Israel (marking the beginning of the summer 2006 war).

On the other hand, Arab commentators saw the IDF withdrawal as a cosmetic operation which provided an excuse for Israel to use excessive force against its enemies and an opportunity to dodge a peace agreement with Syria and the Palestinians. Indeed, for these commentators as well, the Israeli operations in Lebanon in 2006 and in Gaza in 2008 were perceived as an Israeli effort to regain its deterrent power.

Yet, a brief review of the last decade reveals that, at least in the short term, the withdrawal has had no significant implications on regional geopolitics. In fact, most regional developments perceived as a direct outcome of the withdrawal are better attributed to internal state dynamics rather than changes due to the withdrawal. Firstly, when it comes to deterrent power, Israel still acts as a regional superpower – yet it cannot handle guerrilla fighting and popular uprising, as evidenced by the Palestinian Intifadas or Hezbollah’s guerrilla attacks. In other words, Israel began losing its deterrent power before the withdrawal, when it proved incapable of containing the first Palestinian Intifada or preventing Hezbollah from shelling Israeli border towns. The Second Palestinian Intifada, erupted not because of Israel’s loss of deterrent power – but because the Palestinians realised that Israel could not be defeated militarily or by diplomatic means – as happened in the First Intifada. Hezbollah’s attacks on Israel indicate an improvement in Hezbollah’s capabilities more than they indicate greater boldness from its side. These attacks served those within Israel who argued that the withdrawal would lead to Hezbollah’s strengthening – but such an argument means ignoring the fact that Israel never controlled the whole of Lebanon – and that Hezbollah could obtain and store weapons in other parts of Lebanon. Finally, Israel’s withdrawal indeed brought with it some immediate political gains for Hezbollah including widespread support in Arab public opinion as the first Arab force to defeat Israel. Yet, even this achievement has been eroded as Hezbollah has been increasingly perceived by large segments of the Arab public as an Iranian proxy in an Arab state.

On the other hand, the withdrawal did not change much in Israel’s regional security conception. The IDF may have learned tactical lessons from the withdrawal, but Israel’s defense policies remain the same. Israel’s attacks on Lebanon and the Gaza strip, though devastating, reflect some rational calculation and some consideration of international public opinion, rather than being only a desperate move to regain deterrence power (here it should be clear that albeit being utterly destructive, both offences in Lebanon and Gaza, the IDF did not use its full military capabilities).

Hence, whereas Israel’s invasion of Lebanon in 1982 had a dramatic impact on the geopolitics of the region, its withdrawal from Lebanon seems to have had an effect mainly within Israel and Lebanon. Of course, time may unfold further implications of this action – but at least for now it seems as though it has been overestimated.

Yaniv Voller is a second year PhD student at the London School of Economics and is interested in secessionism, legitimacy and recognition, non-state actors, Iraq, and Turkey. He is also a graduate teaching assistant in the International History department at the LSE.

Shifting Sands is the blog of the Middle East International Affairs Programme at LSE IDEAS, analysing current events in the Middle East and contributing to the ongoing deliberations over policy prescriptions.

Amber Holewinski, Editor

Monday 17 May 2010

On the (supposedly) sensational documents from the Gorbachev Foundation Archives

Some of the readers of this blog may have heard of one Pavel Stroilov. Over the last year or so he has gotten quite a bit of attention from the main stream press. He claims to be sitting on a treasure trove of archival documents from the Gorbachev federation, which he stole by manipulating the computer system there. He claims, further, that these documents have been unavailable to other researchers, and that they reveal a dark side to Gorbachev. His story has gotten another retelling in a recent article in the Spring 2010 issue of City Journal, outlet of the conservative Manhattan Institute.

The article (read it here: http://www.city-journal.org/2010/20_2_soviet-archives.html) is full of factual errors, but this being a blog for Cold War historians, I will just focus on the issue of the documents.

According to the article, Stroilov has 50,000 documents on his computer. He claims that these are unavailable to researchers, a claim that the article repeats. In fact, the vast majority of these documents have been available to researchers for at least the past decade. I worked in the Gorbachev Foundation Archives (GFA) in 2006, 2007, and 2008, and was able to see the available notes taken at Politburo meetings, Chernaiev’s diary, various papers written by Gorbachev aides, and some memorandums of meetings and telephone conversations (memcons) between Gorbachev and foreign leaders. The only time documents were withdrawn was when they were being prepared for publication by the GFA; even then, after explaining that I was working on a PhD thesis and did not want to spend my entire life in grad school, I was given access to the documents. The one exception is some of the memcons of conversations with foreign leaders – for reasons that are not quite clear, many of these were kept from researchers. Even the memcons, though, have been included in the excellent volumes the GFA has been releasing over the past several years, including one on the German question, several editions of the Politburo notes, and a series approaching 15 volumes of what seems to be the GFAs entire collection. Cherniaev’s diary, one of the treasures of the GFA’s collection, has also been published.

Nor is it true that there has been no interest in these documents in the West, a point Ms. Berlinski raises apparently to show that we are all in danger of slipping into communism. On the contrary, many of them have been not only utilized by scholars but translated and published in English, particularly by the Cold War International History Project and the National Security Archive. This includes the supposed shockingly revelatory memcon of Gorbachev’s meeting with Thatcher that the Times acquired from Mr. Stroilov – you can read the NSA’s translation here: http://www.gwu.edu/~nsarchiv/NSAEBB/NSAEBB293/index.htm
The Chernaiev diary is up on the NSA site as well; NSA staff have been translating the entries year by year.

But let’s assume for a moment that Stroilov did steal a batch of fascinating documents otherwise unavailable to researchers. Would this be a reason for historians to celebrate? Absolutely not. Working in Russian archives is challenging and often frustrating; documents are either not made available to researchers; all too often, documents that were once available are withdrawn. One reason is that a truly open archival culture has not taken hold; another is that there is still suspicion of researchers using the materials for embarrassing revelations about the past, which could in turn cause problems for the archivist responsible. On top of that, there is a deep-seeded paranoia about the documents being stolen by researchers who will sell them abroad. And yet an enormous amount has indeed become available, and the fields of Soviet/Russian history and Cold War history have been transformed as a result. Mr. Stroilov’s theft of the documents is not only objectively wrong(it is theft, after all), it plays on all the fears and insecurities of Russian officials and archivists. At a time when Russia has a president who has spoken in favour of archival access, Mr. Stroilov’s act will only serve to support the arguments of those who want to keep the archive closed.

See also the excellent response on http://www.russian-front.com/ and by Ron Radosh at pajamasmedia. Note Radosh’s conclusion: “The only scandal is why City Journal, one of the most important and distinguished journals in the United States, printed such a weak and misleading article that is far below its usual quality.” I would disagree with the part about City Journal being among the most important journals in the United States, but I don't see why any serious publication would print an article whose author clearly did absolutely no background work, and used a story about the theft of archival documents to push an ideological agenda.

On another note, my colleague Svetlana Savranskaya informs me that she and Sergei Radchenko (until recently of the LSE, now at University of Nottingham) wrote a response to the Times back in September; their letter was never published. I will post the letter here later…

Friday 14 May 2010

Presidential Landslide Victory in Milestone Philipine Elections

The May 10th general elections marked a milestone for democracy in the Philippines. Front-runner presidential candidate Benigno ‘Noynoy’ Aquino has won a landslide victory, thus setting the stage for an orderly transition of power from incumbent president Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo. Overall, the successful introduction of a computerised vote-counting system allowed for election results to be reported with unprecedented speed and credibility.

With more than 80,000 candidates contesting some 17,000 elected offices, including the vice-presidency, half the Senate, the entire House or Representatives, and local provincial and municipal positions (governor, vice-governor, board members, mayor, vice mayor, councillors), an estimated 75 percent of registered voters in the Philippines turned out to cast their ballots. (At this writing, the turnout of Filipinos overseas is 23 percent of registered voters, up from 17 percent in the 2007 mid-term elections.) With as many as 40 percent of registered voters aged between 18-35, it is possible that as many as three million were first-time voters, prompting projections of a ‘youth swing vote’ in these elections.

Across the country, Filipino voters persevered through the long queues that formed at many polling stations, awaiting their turn as election officials struggled with malfunctioning machines in places, or as their fellow citizens worked out how to cast their ballots in this first ever automated election. Aquino himself reportedly had to wait for several hours before he could vote in his home province of Tarlac. Undoubtedly, the wait and the heat took its toll, and there were a few more serious incidents of election-related violence in places, notably in parts of Mindanao.

However, the overall process and outcome of the elections is a far cry from the widespread and systematic electoral fraud and violence that some observers had anticipated. Such predictions stemmed in part from the November 2009 massacre in Maguindanao Province and related fears focused on other local allies of the outgoing president who, it was thought, would fight bitterly to avoid defeat at the hands of their respective local rivals. The untested, new automated voting system and its vulnerability to technical problems and massive fraud had also fuelled speculations.

Against such concerns for the integrity of the electoral process and outcome, Philippine democracy instead appears to have passed a milestone with the 2010 elections. First of all, the 2010 general elections have claimed fewer lives due to election-related violence than previous national election years. Second, the successful introduction of an automated voting system allowed for a rapid tabulation of the votes, thus eliminating the concerns for electoral fraud during previous elections when the manual vote count required several days to deliver the final election results. Third, compared to previous elections, the strong correspondence between pre-election voter surveys and the election results lends credibility to the outcome, not least in the case of the front-runner presidential candidate Aquino. Finally, the large margin gained by Aquino vis-à-vis the runner-up in the presidential race, Joseph Estrada, invites an orderly transfer of power from the incumbent Macapagal-Arroyo administration.


This is not to argue that the elections, as successful as they were, spell a radical transformation of Philippine politics. Indeed, Aquino’s rise to the presidency reflects the enduring resonance in Philippine politics of an oligarchy of old political families and established business interests. As a candidate of the Liberal Party, Aquino also enjoyed the backing of this patronage-based coalition of national and local politicians joined by webs of personal allegiance and political convenience.

The continuities are also evident in the evident staying power of entrenched local politicians and political families across the country. In northern Luzon, Imelda Marcos, widow of long-time Philippine president Ferdinand Marcos, won a congressional seat in Marcos’s home province of Ilocos Norte, whilst daughter Imee Marcos has won the governorship of the province. Elsewhere in Luzon, outgoing president Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo won a congressional seat in her home province of Pampanga. The Ampatuan family, which stands accused of the massacre of 57 people in November 2009, appears to have retained a number of key local posts in Maguindanao province in central Mindanao. The Senate has likewise seen (re)election for a handful of established dynasties. This election does not signify dramatic change, but rather the continuation of slow, gradual, and limited shifts in the means of doing politics in the Philippines, rather than the ends.

Eva-Lotta Hedman is Research Fellow of the LSE IDEAS Southeast Asia Programme.

Government and Opposition in Egypt: Authoritarianism, De-politicisation and Stagnation

By Katerina Dalacoura

The Egyptian regime is on the offensive. The BBC reported on 6 May that President Hosni Mubarak, 82, has emerged from months of illness and convalescence with a challenge to Egypt’s opposition: they should reveal specific policy proposals for solving Egypt’s persistent socio-economic and political problems. Coming from a regime which has consistently suppressed political opposition and presided over decades of stagnation in Egypt at home and abroad, this is rather bold.

It is very difficult if not impossible to formulate specific policy proposals for an opposition which remains amorphous and, for the most part, in a gray area between legality and illegality. The Muslim Brotherhood may be a coherent organisation but is still banned and recent developments suggest it may be turning to an apolitical stance. Mohammed El Baradei, former president of the International Atomic Energy Agency (IAEA) and recipient of the Nobel Peace Prize, returned recently to Egypt and may attempt to contest the presidency in the 2011 elections. But his Coalition for Change is still ad hoc and his political future is uncertain. Civil society organisations such as the Kifaya movement continue to pressure the regime but only on the margins. Since 2004, a sporadic but persistent wave of labour protests has brought people onto the streets but they have not coalesced into a coherent movement as yet.

Mubarak’s regime habitually uses the threat of instability to justify the suppression of political opposition and the continuous application (since 1981) of emergency law. ‘In this delicate period there can be no room for those who confuse change with chaos," said Mubarak. Referring to a recent protest, National Democratic Party (NDP) representative Hassan Nash’at el Qassas said that the Interior Ministry must not be lenient with the demonstrators. ‘Instead of using water hoses to disperse them, the police ought to shoot them; they deserve it’, he said. When a law which will give the president power to make arms deals without parliamentary oversight was discussed in the National Assembly, another NDP member, Muhammad Abdel Fatah Omar, stated: ‘Even if Mubarak chooses dictatorship, we must still obey, since he would act as a benevolent dictator.’ The Egyptian president is using such discourses to prepare the ground for the succession by his son, Gamal Mubarak.

Rather than inviting genuine political debate, the government in reality seeks to steer Egyptian society away from political engagement. Its preference is for a de-politicised citizenry and, more importantly, a de-politicised Islamist opposition movement. It favours pious conservative Muslims over politically engaged Islamists and would have been pleased with the marginalisation of pragmatic elements by a conservative leadership in the Muslim Brotherhood in December 2009. The regime has encouraged the wave of religiosity which has enveloped Egypt in the last few years and decades. It is, indeed bold, of Mubarak to demand specific policy proposals from the opposition.

Dr Katerina Dalacoura is Lecturer in International Relations at the London School of Economics and Political Science. She previously worked at the University of Essex and at the International Institute of Strategic Studies. Her main areas of expertise are in: human rights, democracy and democracy promotion, in the Middle East; political Islam; and culture and religion in International Relations. She is author of Islam, Liberalism and Human Rights: Implications for International Relations (London: I. B. Tauris, 2003) and Engagement or Coercion: Weighing Western Human Rights Policies towards Turkey, Iran and Egypt (London: Royal Institute of International Affairs, 2003). She has published in the Review of International Studies, Millennium, International Affairs, Democratization, International Studies Notes and International Relations and has authored a number of chapters in edited books. Her book, Islamist Terrorism and Democracy in the Middle East will be published by Cambridge University Press in 2011.

Shifting Sands is the blog of the Middle East International Affairs Programme at LSE IDEAS, analysing current events in the Middle East and contributing to the ongoing deliberations over policy prescriptions.

Amber Holewinski, Editor

Monday 10 May 2010

Honduras: the international impact of last year's coup

The opposition of several Latin American leaders against the attendance of the Honduran leader, Porfirio Lobo, at the upcoming EU-Latin America summit in Madrid later this month highlights the continuing fallout from the coup in Honduras last year. At the same time the contrasting stances of the Europeans and Latin Americans also arguably reveals deeper fault lines between the two sides concerning the basis of democracy. Like the US, the EU appears inclined to a limited and formal form of democracy, which emphasises representative institutions. Meanwhile, the Latin American governments that have taken a critical stance against Honduras have largely adopted a position that sees democracy as requiring deeper social legitimacy that goes beyond holding elections.

In June last year President Zelaya was bundled out of the country following his proposal to seek constitutional reform. Following widespread condemnation, including from the US and Europe, Honduras was also thrown out of the Organisation of American States (OAS). During the second half of 2009 Zelaya managed to return from exile and seek refuge within the Brazilian embassy. His presence was insufficient to affect his return to power though. The interim government held on, announcing that it would be replaced by a new government formed following the upcoming presidential election in November. That poll was won by Porfirio Lobo, who had also stood against Zelaya at the previous contest in 2005.

The interim government’s apparent commitment to institutional parameters (even claiming that its removal of Zelaya was justified on constitutional grounds) meant that despite international criticism it was not completely isolated. In the long months between Zelaya’s removal and the November election the interim government accepted demands for international mediation, which led to the Tegucigalpa/San José accord between it and Zelaya, the provisions which included a truth commission and a national unity government. However, not only was such a government not set up, but Congress voted against reinstating Zelaya until the end of his term in January 2010.

Having managed to hold onto power in the months after June and then holding the presidential election, the coup plotters may congratulate themselves that they appear to have been largely vindicated through their institutional approach. Domestically, the regime claimed that it was not interested in holding onto power, but to transfer it in a democratic and peaceful manner. As a result, international opposition began to weaken.

This was most apparent in both Washington and Brussels. Following the election, the US State Department for example noted that the fact that the poll had happened was significant and changed the situation. With the transfer of power to Lobo in January Honduras’s rehabilitation looked to have advanced further: with Lobo seemingly committed to a truth commission, Washington seems supportive of Honduras’s readmission to OAS. Meanwhile, the EU noted the failure to implement all of the Tegucigalpa/San José accord, the new foreign policy chief Catherine Ashton responded positively to the new government’s acceptance of a truth commission. At the same time it hoped that Zelaya’s status would be resolved. In addition, Honduras’s drive for greater international respectability has also been helped regionally. Peru and Colombia were among the first within UNASUR to recognise the new Lobo government.

That said, the democratic situation in Honduras is far from complete – and continues to be challenged by many, both inside and outside the country. Internationally, a number of Latin American governments refused to recognise Lobo’s victory, claiming that it had taken place under an illegitimate administration. In the current row the presidents of Argentina, Ecuador, Venezuela, Bolivia, Paraguay and Chile all made their displeasure of Lobo’s presence at the Madrid summit.

Domestically, the wounds from last year have not fully healed. An AmericasBarometer survey of Honduran public opinion by the Latin American Public Opinion Project (Vanderbilt University) in March revealed that although a majority (70%) opposed a constituent assembly and Zelaya’s plan to hold a referendum for a constituent assembly (75%), they were also critical of the way in which the former president was handled: over sixty percent believed that Zelaya’s removal constituted a coup.

At the same time, just as the truth commission began working this month, the worker and peasant groups that make up the National Front for Popular Resistance took to the streets, much as the movement did during the months following the coup. Criticising the truth commission as a way for coup leaders to evade justice, they have reiterated their demands for a new constituent assembly, an investigation into the political crimes committed after June 2009 and Manual Zelaya’s unconditional return to the country. The latter points have particular resonance: the OAS’s Inter-American Commission on Human Rights reports continuing attacks on the former president’s supporters since Lobo’s inauguration and corruption charges brought by the new government against Zelaya (and which he argues are a form of ‘political persecution’).

Yet given the split between formal and socially-rooted democracy, what implications will this have for Honduras and Latin American relations in the long term?

The immediate result was Lobo’s decision not to attend the summit. This may seem like a victory for the regional consensus that has been in place against the coup since last June and for the notion of idealist foreign policy over realpolitik. However, this may well prove to be its highpoint. But this was only a partial result for his critics. Lobo will still go to Madrid but only to the smaller, Central America-oriented event scheduled the day before. In addition to this, a more long-term perspective suggests that developments since the election may well fracture the unity of purpose shown by Latin America or show it to be irrelevant.

Although Honduras remains a regional pariah, most notably remaining outside the OAS membership, it has achieved some degree of international legitimacy. That Lobo will still be able to attend the EU’s event with Central American states is one demonstration of this. More importantly though are the growing acceptance of actors such as the US and both the World Bank and IMF, which restarted financial support last month. The impact of these events may well undermine any Latin American solidarity and ensure that Honduras returns to the international community, with or without the support of its regional neighbours.

Guy Burton is a research associate for the Latin America International Affairs Programme at the LSE Ideas Centre.

Friday 7 May 2010

‘The President is dead, long live the acting President!’


The uncertainty of Nigeria’s leadership is over: President Umaru Yar’Adua died yesterday. Elected in 2007 Yar’Adua was, in what observers claim to have been a flawed and rigged election, elevated to the top post in Nigeria. Already at the time when he assumed office his health was reported to be fragile as he was suffering from heart and kidney problems.

Fragile health is already a handicap for the leader of any country, but especially in a state that is suffering from a festering civil conflict in the oil-rich Niger delta, ethnic tensions between the largely Christian south and the Muslim north as well as an incomplete process of establishing a transparent, effective and accountable government. Yar’Adua, a softly spoken professor of chemistry who had run on a platform of anti-corruption and political reforms, aimed at narrowing the gap between the ‘have’s’ and the ‘have-not’s’ . The 2007 elections, despite the criticism they received, marked the first peaceful transfer of power from one civilian president to another. But Yar’Adua stood for more than this: as the first university educated president of the country, he represented for many Nigerians a symbol for replacing the closely knit public and private network of personal relationships with a more open and just system that would help the growing number of young people to find work based on their skills, rather than their background.

Besides initiating reforms in the financial and regional political sector, Yar’Adua was able to offer an amnesty to the rebels in the Niger delta before falling sick in November last year. His condition turned out to be so critical that he had to leave the country to receive treatment in Saudi-Arabia. Due to what is rumored to be pressure from his family and close supporters, he did not resign or appoint an acting head of state and thus caused what many observers called a ‘power vacuum’. The peace process of the Niger delta got stuck in limbo, ethnic tensions in the borderland between the Christian and Muslim areas flared up occasionally and domestic reforms stalled, especially in the infrastructure and petrol sector but also in education and electoral law.

More than that: during the first period of the former president Olusegun Obasanjo, Nigeria had established itself as one of the countries with the most active foreign policy in Africa. Nigerian peacekeepers were found in Liberia and Sierra Leone; in Togo the pressure coming from Lagos was decisive in weakening the rebels and generally Nigeria’s foreign policy provided stability in a turbulent region. The promise of this stability was also to support the exploitation of the fossil fuel sector of Nigeria itself: not only were the rebels in Niger delta threatening foreign investments necessary for the oil to flow, but also Nigeria lacks its own refineries and has, as a major oil exporter, imported petrol that then disappears in the dark channels of a corrupt network, leaving most Nigerians without reliable access to energy. The absence of a leader that can offer stability and leadership has largely blocked improvements in this sector.

Nigeria’s leadership crisis has reduced its position in Africa and the rest of the world, and has increased the difficulties for the acting president, Goodluck Jonathan. In February 2010, when the Nigerian parliament finally decided to bury its hope for a word from Yar’Adua and declare Jonathan acting president, he was facing an uphill struggle: as a Christian he was endangering the careful balance that rules the presidential office – based on the principle of alternating the office by a Christian and Muslim occupant. Jonathan’s next step will be to announce a Muslim vice-president, hoping that this step will calm the religious tensions that divide the country.

The question now is not only whether Jonathan can start where Yar’Adua had stopped, but also whether he will be able to reenergize the reputation and influence of Nigeria abroad, stabilize the domestic sector in order to attract foreign investment and push ahead with the fight against corruption. The other major obstacle he is facing is related to the office of the president in Africa’s most populous nation. The prolonged absence of a strong man at the helm of the country for the first time since independence has shown many Nigerians that the country can function without a president – especially in regards to use of personal networks and favoritism. This is seen by many as a good sign, but a bad one for Jonathan.

It is also important to bear in mind that he only has only one year to go before the next elections. His vice-president will have the highest chance to become the next president, and so Jonathan’s decision for whom he will choose for the post will contain the deliberation between an influential politician from the north and the risk that this will further weaken his presidency. While he was able to consolidate some of his powers by appointing his own cabinet without major obstacles, the remaining time of Jonathan’s tenure may become infamous of what in the US would be known as a ‘lame duck’ president. It is too early to call, but Nigeria may well find itself in a prolonged political deadlock until the next elections.

Nigeria has a new president, but in political terms he will be short-lived. 

Christian Kramer is Programme Assistant of the LSE IDEAS Africa International Affairs Programme.

Iran: Where The Power Lies

By Kevork Oskanian

Since the days of the Islamic Revolution, and certainly since the death of Ayatollah Khomeini, Iran’s clerical elite has included a variety of factions – broadly classified as reformist, pragmatist, conservative and radical. For a long time, many in the West pinned their hopes for change on a shift in the balance of power in favour of the first two – the reformists and pragmatists. During the presidency of Mohammed Khatami, there was a palpable sense that a shift in emphasis from the theocratic towards the democratic aspects of the institutional structures of the Islamic Republic would be possible. However, any such hopes were soon dashed by the dominance of conservatives and radicals within the regime’s theocratic arm.

The Supreme Leader Khamenei – himself considered a conservative – has over the past few years gradually moved from acting as a supreme arbiter over the different factions, towards openly wielding partisan political power himself, by overtly supporting Ahmadinejad in the aftermath of the 2009 election. With the increasingly brutal suppression of the Green Movement – including arrests of establishment figures and pressures on Rafsanjani, a pragmatic regime insider previously deemed ‘untouchable’ – it seems the limited pluralism that has marked Iran in the past few decades will become even more constrained. This could finally remove any pretence of democratic rule and dramatically reduce any realistic prospect for peaceful – or violent - change. In effect, the Supreme Leader has moved from being a power-broker to being a power-holder. With much of his legitimacy gone (at least in large parts of the urban middle class), he will have to rely much more on the raw power of cooptation and repression to realise his prime objective: the maintenance of the Islamic Republic and, of course, his own position within it.

During the past year, two elements have kept alive the hopes of those who are aiming for an overhaul of the country’s political system. Firstly, there is the loss of legitimacy of the clergy – including Khamenei – among large parts of the urban, middle-class population. Its most blatant expression was, perhaps, the willingness of protestors to use slogans against the Supreme Leader similar to those used against the Shah in the run-up to the 1979 revolution. Secondly, the chairmanship of the pragmatic Rafsanjani on two crucial clerical bodies: the body overseeing the Supreme Leader’s performance – the Assembly of Experts (with a theoretical constitutional authority to remove Khamenei), and the Expediency Council (an advisory body to the Supreme Leader). The hope here was, of course, that Rafsanjani could become the focus for change within the crucial theocratic arm of Khomeini’s republic. Yet, in both cases, such hopes have been misplaced. Yes, the legitimacy of Iran’s political system, which was up to now partially shored up by a democratic façade, seems to be withering away fast. However, rather than heralding the imminent collapse or fundamental transformation of the regime, this means stability will be increasingly based on the Supreme Leader’s control of a modern-day Praetorian Guard – the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC or Pasdaran), and Iran’s de-facto social-security network – the Islamic Foundations or Bonyads.

The loss of legitimacy of the Supreme Leader is partially offset by his (and Ahmadinejad’s) continued authority in the more conservative countryside, and among the urban poor. But more importantly, Khamenei’s authority over the IRGC remains largely unaffected; he has used his powers of appointment and promotion within the Pasdaran to staff its officers’ corps with ‘ideologically reliable’ elements. And the commanders of the IGRC have duly made it clear that they would be prepared to use force to uphold the institutional integrity of the Islamic Republic. As the IRGC also controls strategically important sections of the Iranian economy, appointments within it have also given the Supreme Leader an opportunity for economic cooptation and elite patronage. Khamenei’s economic cooptative power is furthermore enhanced through his control of the all-important Islamic Foundations – the Bonyads – that control up to 20% of the Iranian economy and that have in recent years supplanted the state as the primary purveyors of social security (and social mobility) for the Iranian poor, through a network of clientelism and corruption.

Control over the IRGC and the Bonyads has therefore given Khamenei the crucial sticks and carrots with which to control both the elite and wider society in the absence of more ‘spontaneous’ forms of authority and legitimacy. The recent ‘suspension’ of two major, previously legal opposition groups – the Mujahedin of the Islamic Revolution and the Islamic Iran Participation Front – indicates the regime is indeed moving towards more blatant repression of reformist factions now deemed a threat to national security. Various pressures exerted on Rafsanjani, including the arrest of family members, seem designed to push and/or lure the (wealthy and allegedly corrupt) cleric back into the fold. Further economic sanctions by the outside world will certainly serve to enhance this consolidation of power among the hardliners. In any case, it seems Khamenei has both the ability and the willingness to employ the levers of power at his disposal in order to safeguard the system, and his position within it; the protestors’ menacing chants will merely have served as a reminder of the Shah’s fateful indecisiveness in 1978-79.

Kevork Oskanian is a PhD Candidate at the LSE Department of International Relations.

Shifting Sands is the blog of the Middle East International Affairs Programme at LSE IDEAS, analysing current events in the Middle East and contributing to the ongoing deliberations over policy prescriptions.

Amber Holewinski, Editor

Tuesday 4 May 2010

If 9-11 had Happened in the UK, would Bush have backed Blair?



A really interesting question that has a bearing on the character of the 'special relationship': had '9-11' (which I guess would have been dubbed '11-9' by us or else required elaborate translation for American audiences) happened on British soil and involving just as many casualties, how would the United States have reacted to it? I am not talking about the immediate outpouring of shock and sympathy but what followed - a declaration by the US of a 'global war on terror', the war in Afghanistan and, later, and more controversially, war on Iraq. Would President George W. Bush have backed to the hilt whatever course of action Prime Minister Tony Blair decided upon?

That question was put to me by a 6th form student at a meeting I addressed recently. What a great question to ask - it blew me away! It had never occurred to me to ask it; nor had I ever heard it asked by any academic expert or journalist, let alone a politician. So much for the political apathy of British youth - they are interested in the world around them and do ask questions when given a chance. I just wish that that student's question - her name is Caitlin - had been put to the three party leaders during the second election debate, a 'debate' which failed to address any issues pertaining to Anglo-American relations.

Back to that great question, which has me scratching my head. My immediate response was that the US would NOT have backed Britain to the same extent that Britain backed the United States. Why? Because an attack on Britain, a middle-ranking power, would have been seen as a 'regional' question and not a global one (by the US). Attack America and you attack the world's 'regional' power - the lone superpower, the planet's policeman, and its financial centre. That 'demands' a massive retaliatory response. Attack Britain, and the world order gets a bloody nose but the world order does not go into a tailspin. And the lone superpower would probably play a restraining role so as not to exacerbate the situation.

That was my immediate response. But I did tell Caitlin that I would probably have a better answer a few hours later. But all I could do was think up further arguments to back my initial response. When had Britain been militarily engaged before and what had been the US response? Well, there was the Argentine invasion of the Falkland Islands back in 1982: President Ronald Reagan had had to choose between two US allies and decided to back Britain with intelligence and logistical support but did not commit military support (but was not asked to either). That did not change my initial response to the Big Question.

Then there was the British-French-Israeli attack on Egypt - the Suez 'incident'/crisis - in 1956, when the US forced the aggressors to back down. That also suggested that US support after a British '9-11' would not be automatic. (But id did remind me that the US is happy to take its opportunities to increase its own influence in world affairs when they present themselves).

And then there was WWII - the US did not enter until the Japanese attack at Pearl Harbor in December 1941 - over two years after was was declared. That also backed up my initial response (the US sold arms and equipment to the UK, provided aid too, but also moved swiftly into British overseas markets across the world, especially in Latin America: again, 'natural' opportunism of the type most states would engage in).

But a doubt kept nagging away centring on one thought: that the first response of Bush's National Security Adviser, Condoleeza Rice, to the 9-11 attacks was to ask how the US could use the event to assert American power? And that Tony Blair's liberal interventionism - displayed in the Bosnia/Kosovo conflicts, Sierra Leone, support of greater US interventions and attacks on Iraq and the Sudan in the 1990s- would have been highly persuasive in Washington, DC, given the strength of voices such as Vice President Dick Cheney's, among others, not to mention the neo-cons so close to Bush. The 9-11 attacks gave a clarity of vision to US policymakers as well as their Democratic political opponents because they furnished the world's superpower with a clear and present danger, a plausible enemy, a 'global' threat, with which to replace the Soviet 'threat'.

Would US policymakers have permitted such a political opportunity to pass? Or would they have reacted in the way they actually did after 9-11? There is still the matter that robust US responses to an attack on British soil would need 'selling' to the American public. And also that, as Britain was the victim, it would have to be seen to be calling the shots, as it were, as to what to do and how to go about it. But I cannot imagine that Blair, viewing the US as a 'force for good in the world', would not have urged America to flex its muscles, declare Anglo-America's moral superiority in a world of failing states and terrorist safe havens, and commit to a generations-long war on terror. And Blair's religiosity - there is 'good' and 'evil' in the world and the latter must be vanquished - would have played well in the White House.

Then I got to thinking about the Truman doctrine (1947) when the US president used Britain's inability to intervene in Greece to counter the Soviet 'threat' to declare that America was ready to support and defend 'free peoples' everywhere against 'armed minorities' and communist aggression.

It could well be, then, that had 9-11 been 11-9, the United States would have 'backed' Britain but with a view to re-legitimising and reasserting US global dominance. Maybe history would have turned out pretty much as it did after 9-11 but taking a slightly more circuitous route?

But I am still scratching my head. What a great question!

Inderjeet Parmar is Professor of Government at the University of Manchester and Vice Chair of the British International Studies Association.  This post first appeared at his excellent US Blog