Indigneous party prospects in Peru

The decision by Peru’s indigenous communities to form a political party ahead of next year’s presidential election poses a number of questions. These include the prospects of such a party in Peru specifically and the relationship between social movements and political parties more generally.

The immediate reasons for the decision are clear: according to the Peruvian indigenous leader, Alberto Pizango, the announcement reflects opposition to the current Peruvian president, Alan Garcia and his refusal to sign a law that would allow indigenous people to stop oil and mining projects on their land.

At first glance the creation of an indigenous political party in Peru is an attractive one. Indigenous identity and political activity has been on the rise in Latin American over the past 30 years. Moreover, in several nearby countries with similarly high indigenous populations it has played a key role, bringing to power presidents Evo Morales in Bolivia, Rafael Correa in Ecuador and bolstering support for Hugo Chavez in Venezuela. Why should the same not happen in Peru?

That it will not is down to several reasons. First, at a structural level Maritza Paredes has pointed out that despite various institutional and political changes in Peru over the past century, social discrimination against indigenous identity has persisted. This has had the knock-on effect of discouraging personal association in this regard in favour of other, less ethnic or cultural forms of identity, such as class, religion or occupation. At the same time, the authoritarian nature of the state and the conflict between it and the Shining Path from the 1960s until the 1990s effectively ‘beheaded’ the indigenous leadership.

Second, at the level of agency, Peru has already experienced an indigenous presidential candidate in the form of Ollanta Humala in the 2006 election. Despite winning 31% of the vote in the first round, he lost the second round to Garcia. Two key reasons have been put forward for this: (1) institutional arrangements in the form of the electoral rules and (2) Peruvian voters’ reassurance that a Garcia victory would provide a political alternative without undermining macro-economic stability and growth that was then under way.

Third, the experience of successful indigenous political action may not be as apparent as it seems. Although Paredes presents the fate of Peru’s indigenous population as having been more politically marginalised than those in Ecuador and Bolivia, Francisco Panizza offers a more nuanced perspective in his and George Philip’s forthcoming book, The Return of the Left in Venezuela, Bolivia and Ecuador. Indigenous social movements may well have play a significant role in opposing neo-liberalism and bringing down governments in their respective countries, but Panizza argues that in terms of political action, indigenous Bolivian political movements and leaders have been more successful than in Ecuador.

According to Panizza, the Ecuadorian indigenous Pachakutik political party largely failed in its objectives. This was due to four main reasons: (1) along with its sister indigenous social movement and other social movements, it lacked any basis for unity with other mass organisations beyond the protests that brought them into the street; (2) the uncertainty regarding the broader social movements’ commitment to liberal democracy; (3) their inability to offer an alternative future other than opposition to the present; and (4) the failure of the indigenous community to establish clear lines between its social movement base and as a political party.

By contrast, the Bolivian case may well be the exception than the (Peruvian and Ecuadorian) rule. That it has been more successful than Peru and Ecuador may be due less to a single, powerful indigenous social movement and political party than the fact that the two groups only constituted part of a broader social and political movement. If one looks past the significant (and indigenous) presence of Morales himself, it become apparent that Bolivian indigenous success owed as much to the parallel challenge against the neo-liberal model of the 1980s and 1990s. This was partially captured in the protests against water and gas privatisation during the first half of the last decade. At the same time MAS has never been a single issue party or represented one section of society: it has sought to be a broad church, even if the various ethnic, regional and class cleavages in that country have largely reinforced each other compared to other Andean countries.

The realisation that indigenous politics is only part of a wider phenomenon has been concisely encapsulated by Sofia Donoso, an Oxford University doctoral student. An observer of social movements, she has noted a shift away from a culture as the principal basis for social movement resistance to one that is more concerned with material matters. Although this is a contemporary trend, it has echoes with the past, especially in the period before the decline of import substitution industrialisation (ISI) (1970s-80s) and the rise of structural readjustment measures in the neo-liberal period (1980s-90s). In that earlier period the bulk of social movements were organised along class or occupational lines, which transcended many of the later political identities, such as ethnicity, religion or sexuality. Moreover, the main demands were similarly general: the incorporation of marginalised social groups into the state and welfare systems and incomes that were both decent and secure.

In sum, what does this all suggest? At one level, it means that for indigenous political parties or candidates to do well they have to look beyond their own personal identity. For Pizango and his political party, the cases of Bolivia and Ecuador provide important and instructive experiences. In particular, they highlight the need to link up indigenous grievances with other, broader concerns and alternatives. At the same time, Pizango and others will need to evaluate the impact that another touted Humala campaign in 2011 may have on their own political fortunes. At another level, the scholarly trend captured above poses interesting research questions about the nature and scope of social movements and political parties. Particularly valuable in this regard would be analyses related to the development of political identity and material concerns across such groups and time periods, including before and after the switch from ISI and to neo-liberalism.

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

The US in Costa Rica: the price of Latin American exceptionalism?

By Guy Burton

During the current Venezuela-Colombia spat, one particular comment by the Venezuelan president, Hugo Chavez, was particularly striking – although not necessarily for the reason he gave. During a speech commemorating Venezuela’s founder and his political hero, Simon Bolivar, Chavez highlighted the passage of 46 US warships, 200 helicopters and 7000 marines into Costa Rica since the beginning of July. Along with four bases that Panama has made available to Washington, Chavez portrayed the move as growing military pressure and potential aggression by the US against himself.

Leaving aside Chavez’s rhetoric, which was designed to rally his supporters at home and abroad, the presence of American troops in Costa Rica is significant. First, it heralds an extension of the American counter-narcotics campaign. While Washington’s ‘war on drugs’ has been fought in two main theatres – through its military presence in Colombia and support in kind to the Mexican authorities – the inclusion of Costa Rica reflects the increasing regionalisation of the strategy, enabling Washington to engage directly in the disruption of the drugs’ transit from its source in the Colombian borderlands through Central America to the US.

Second, the surge in Washington’s military presence is notable given Costa Rica’s history. The country is exceptional in Latin America, having abolished its army in 1948 and experienced one of the most sustained periods of democracy since. The army’s removal occurred in the wake of a civil war and ensured that competing factions in Costa Rica’s elite would be unable to settle their differences militarily. Instead of an army the country has a small public security-oriented force which has participated on international peacekeeping missions as well as combating the drug trade.

However, the agreement reached with Washington reflects growing concerns among Costa Rica’s leaders over the potential for greater lawlessness and criminality stemming from the drug trade. Laura Chinchilla’s election as president last February was helped in part by her commitment to take a stronger line on this front. At the same time, opinion within Costa Rica is divided. There has been mounting public opposition by political parties and civil society against the agreement, which has apparently baffled the American ambassador. She argues that there is no change in the nature of US-Costa Rican affairs and that the current agreement echoes those from earlier years.

By contrast the domestic opposition, claim that under the previous 1999 US-Costa Rica Maritime Cooperation Agreement, American coastguard vessels could only enter Costa Rican territory in pursuit of suspects. The recent agreement constitutes a break by dramatically increasing the size of the US presence to one that seems far larger than necessary for the task. Moreover, it has been agreed for a period of five years rather than being subject to renewal every year. The public furore has been such that Costa Rica’s Supreme Court has decided to rule on the agreement.

That the US and Costa Rica have been cooperating militarily for more than a decade raises serious questions about the sustainability and credibility of the ‘Costa Rican’ brand. Its non-military status and democratic credentials have provided it with a measure of independence. Historically, this was evident in two important ways: one, by encouraging it to avoid conflict where possible; and two, by using that approach to play the role of honest broker in the various conflicts in Central America during the 1980s.

By contrast the US-Costa Rican arrangements since the 1990s and their expansion with the current agreement appear to point in a different direction to the image carefully cultivated over past decades. Even if the perceived threat from the drug trade is as great as the Costa Rican leadership assumes it is, by opting to outsource their military operations to Washington will effectively weaken the country’s freedom to manoeuvre internationally. This would not only undermine Costa Rica’s claim to a distinctive foreign policy, but also challenge national sovereignty. More specifically, it would no longer have a monopoly on the use of coercion within its territory – one of the central tenets of statehood.

At the same time Costa Rican democracy could take a battering. Increased criminality associated with the drug trade and non-accountable US military power may challenge both the practice and culture of democracy. The experience of Colombia and Mexico may be relevant in this regard: the collapse of the rule of law and the exercise of power by armed men (whether guerrillas, gang, enforcement agencies or paramilitaries) in the peripheries has effectively marginalised ordinary citizens and undermined democracy and accountability.

All this suggests that the impact of an expanded US military presence in Costa Rica – assuming it gets the go-ahead from the Costa Rican Supreme Court – could have more far-reaching consequences than the country’s leadership anticipates. While Costa Ricans may continue to emphasise their political distinctiveness from other Latin American countries through the absence of an army and a strong democratic tradition, these could eventually turn out to be little more than rhetorical devices that mask a darker reality of dependence on Washington, growing public insecurity and social fragmentation. To forestall such an outcome might the solution for Costa Rica be the paradoxical one? That is, in order to retain its Latin American ‘uniqueness’ of independence, non-intervention and pacifist foreign policy, it may have to change tack and adopt a more ‘normal’ Latin American trajectory (at least historically), by building up its own military capacity.

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

Governments, Aid Organizations Look to Humanitarian Needs of 14 million Pakistani Flood Victims

The humanitarian needs of the victims of the floods are urgent and immediately obvious. Clean drinking water, food, shelter, clothing, and medicine to help maintain the dignity and capabilities of the tens of millions of people affected by the raging floods in the Khyber-Pahktankhwa Province. Unfortunately dense fog and a running forecast of heavier rain has stymied the efforts of numerous governments to provide much needed rescue and relief aid to the victims of this terrible deluge.  Indeed, the inability of public and private actors has a larger political and social consequence: militant organizations are reaching out the desperate people of the Northwest, thereby undercutting international efforts to build long-standing alliances with the more moderate people of the region.

The U.N. updated its estimate of the number affected by this disaster to upwards of 13 million. More than 1 million people have been displaced, while 1,500 or more individuals are dead.   Livestock have been destroyed, farmland submerged in polluted water and detritus.  However, even though fewer than 2000 people are known to have died, the number of people who require public and private assistance is much higher than the combined number of individuals who needed help after the 2005 earthquake in Pakistan and the 2010 earthquake in Haiti. Some estimates suggest 30,000 to 60,000 people remain stranded in far-flung villages.  It is a tall order to get to all these people in record time.  It remains to be seen whether the logistical obstacles that serve to explain the government’s slow response can also serve as excuses to the government’s failure to protects its citizens at its time of most dire need.

Consider that though many tens of thousands have been rescued and many hundreds of thousands meals have been delivered, the need on the ground has far outstripped the resources available to counter the crying demand.  Recent reports suggest that humanitarian groups and charities already on the ground are seen as more effective than government efforts to push into washed-away villages.   The U.S. commitment of $40 million in aid and financial assistance has not registered in barren stomachs; the raging waters have pushed back any attempts to reach victims further down river (all of Pakistan stands to be a river). Indeed, the Pakistani government’s military rescue and relief efforts seems to have stalled for the same reason.  Taking advantage of this opportunity, Islamist groups already present in the region have reached out to the victims of the floods and have bitingly declared that they were on the ground days before the Pakistani military reached the Northwest.

A recent Associated Press report helps lay out the problem from Pakistan’s perspective:

“Pakistani Prime Minister Yousuf Raza Gilani said Monday that the floods were a bigger crisis than the 2005 Kashmir earthquake that killed nearly 80,000 people and the army’s operation against the Taliban in the Swat Valley last spring that drove more than 2 million people from their homes.”

Reuters has reported that Islamic charities with ties to banned terrorist groups have rushed in to fill the gap left behind by the Pakistani government’s slow response.  By reaching out to the victims of the flood, Islamists seem to want to wash away the memory of their harsh crackdown on moderate Muslims in the region. The military’s tardiness thus plays against the government’s assessment of its duties to protect its people against the threat of Islamist co-optation.

Consider that groups like Jamaat-ud-Dawa, run by the leader of founder of Lashkar-e-Taiba, the group held responsible for the 2008 Mumbai attacks have fed and clothed thousands of people long before the government were able to reach the victims of the flood.  These groups are surely placing bets that if their relief efforts pay off, they will gain a ready supply of recruits, who armed with their spiteful disdain for Islamabad, will fight what they perceive to be an ineffective central government and its international allies.

The people affected by the flood have some reason to hold such targeted views. To some extent the government’s explanation cannot excuse its broadly ineffective response to what is surely one of the most urgent public policy crises in Pakistan’s recent history.  That ineffective response undercuts any attempt that the U.S. and British governments might make to broaden their international security strategies to contain the growing threat of the migration of militant Islam throughout Pakistan.

Hence to cut off the militants’ reach and to bolster the claims of the international humanitarian project, it is very important that politically non-aligned groups help reach the frontiers of the flooding as soon as possible. There are aid groups on the ground that can help. The International Rescue Committee is a leading humanitarian organization that has mobilized its settled infrastructure to help all those left behind by the flood.  In country for over 30 years, IRC is singularly able to provide well-arranged, coordinated help in the areas most badly affected by the flood.  It has pledged to help provide clean water, shelter and essential supplies to the refugees of the flood.  

In the meantime millions of people have been evacuated in the South to make way for the devastation to come, without paying mounting costs in human lives. The price of food is sky rocketing and the mass migration of millions of hungry and desperate people into centrally located, shoddily constructed shelters is the perfect recipe for a public health disaster.  The worst is yet to come.  One hopes that the government will be better able to respond to that worsening crisis.

Faheem Haider is the Senior Blogger on Asia for the Foreign Policy Association.  This article originally appeared at pakistan.foreignpolicyblogs.com. 

President Asif Ali Zardari’s Row With David Cameron Meant to Shore Up Support With the Military and Provincial Governors

By now, no doubt, President Asif Ali Zardari and Prime Minister David Cameron have hashed out their differences. And no doubt, both peace and justice now reign supreme in some Kingdom Far, Far Away. I live in a fantastical world, built from the ground up, molded and cast in my hopes and dreams. So, why not this?

A second has passed and I have come out of my reverie. And so I have to deal with the world that is given me. Why is President Zardari risking his standing with his public at this gravely difficult time to pick a fight that he won’t win? I’ll offer some tentative thoughts on that somewhat badly phrased question.

Prime Minister Cameron’s comments in Bangalore that Pakistan had to shoot straight and at only one enemy came at the heels of the recent WikiLeaks document dump, and were surely meant to distance his government from Labour’s perhaps overly credulous investment in time, money and lives in the region. In response, the Pakistani President sent off a volley of recrimination and hedging, though only while sitting comfortable in Paris, away from his secured fortress in Islamabad, away from the not-too opulent, very nearly uncomfortable conference chairs in 10 Downing Street.

His comments to Le Monde only telegraphed the deeply ambiguous views he holds on the ISAF intervention in the region. He declaimed that:

“The international community, to which Pakistan belongs, is losing the war against the Taliban”; that this is “because we have lost the battle to win hearts and minds”; that given the diplomatic and military moves made to try to secure the region “military reinforcements are only a small part of the response”; and that “to win the support of the Afghan people, we must bring them economic development, and prove that we can not only change their lives, but improve them.”

Moreover, as if to tie up loose ends, he said that the Taliban “have no chance of regaining power, though their influence is growing,” but also that, waiting on the wings of the U.S and U.K’s commitment to the region “time is on [the Taliban’s] side.” Though cautionary, these are hardly words of friendship and comity. They stand as warnings of some unfortunate outcome, games striven and forfeited, players shirking their nearly artificial responsibilities. Indeed, Zardari’s comments ring true as a promise that, were the ISAF coalition to back out of the region, the net result will be destabilization of the region, entire. And who knows maybe the Islamists who, so far, have the people’s allegiance through fear and social goods could soon have the nuclear football under their white clad arms.

Zardari’s comments come at the time when Pakistan is suffering through the worst monsoon rains and floods in a century. Already more than 1,500 people are dead; as many as 2 million people are homeless, while more than half the livestock owned by farmers in the region have perished. People are suffering, and those who have been able to get out on the roads to leave the blighted areas have challenged the government to intervene in a helpful and forceful way. So far, claim the affected citizens of Khyber-Pakthtankhwa Province, the government has not done its part in a way that sensible people could support their best hopes for tomorrow.

Plainly President Zardari does not think he needs the support of the people affected by this on-going catastrophe. Plainly he does not think that the U.S. will intervene in Pakistan’s bilateral relations with the U.K. Plainly he thinks talking tough against David Cameron’s strong words has a positive pay-off. That is because his survival in office depends on the military’s backing and the support of Pakistan’s provincial governors. They are, as it were the electorate that counts; in Professor Bruce Bueno de Mesquita’s terminology, they are his selectorate.

Hence, as if trying to patch together countrywide support for his ambivalent opposition to the Taliban in Afghanistan and, the Tehrik-e-Taliban, in Pakistan, he claimed: “The war against terrorism must unite us and not oppose us.” Finally, almost as if it were a promise, made in this case to the military, President Zardari said that he “will explain face to face that it is my country that is paying the highest price in human life for this war." He seems to be saying that he understand the military’s losses and the crosscutting deals in which the provincial governors are complicit. He will fight for their needs, he wants to say and will tell off the diplomats who would have Zardari do otherwise. His posturing is, simply, a shot across the bow.

Still there are other competing explanations for President Zardari’s remonstrations. It is possible that Zardari’s challenge to Cameron has been particularly harsh because the U.K does not help prop up the PPP government as the U.S. does. Indeed, in fact if not in tact, the British Prime Minister made the same demands on the Pakistani government as U.S. Secretary of State Hilary Clinton. Though his comments seemed more forceful, unless rhetorical chicanery can carry the day over substance—which of course it can—Zardari is baldly taking his pot shots and declaring his stamina to stand up for the fight against the Taliban in both Afghanistan and in Pakistan, a fight paid for in part by U.S and U.K aid funding.


Faheem Haider is the Senior Blogger on Asia for the Foreign Policy Association

Understanding Iranian Foreign Policy Behaviour

By Juha Saarinen

Since its inception in 1979, the Islamic Republic of Iran has cut across a wide range of Western security concerns. From supporting terrorism, seeking weapons of mass destruction and more recently, supporting armed non-state actors in Afghanistan and Iraq, its recalcitrant theocracy has been viewed as a threat to regional stability. However, despite the plethora of literature written about Western policies vis-à-vis Iran, Iranian foreign policy remains poorly understood. Instead of clear analysis, there are considerable amounts of sensationalistic coverage about Iran's nuclear ambitions and about “mad mullahs” driven by apocalyptic delusions and a martyr complex. Arguably, understanding Iran's foreign policy is central to crafting sensible and effective policies and requires a closer examination of the historic, domestic, and regional contexts of Iranian foreign policy behaviour transcending Western perspectives and concerns.

Relevance of history

For Iran, the past is always present. On the one hand, ordinary Iranians have a strong connection even with their remote past, repeating ancient poetry, folktales and ceremony, and reaffirming their cultural heritage. Additionally, they take pride in the continuity of their cultural identity over millennia, and in having influenced the Greek, Arab, Mongol, and Turkish civilizations and Western culture through Iranian contributions to Islamic civilization.

At the same time, however, Iranians have a deep-seated scar in their collective psyche emanating from oppression by foreign powers throughout their history. Greeks, Arabs, Mongols, Turks, and most recently Saddam Hussein's forces all invaded Iranian homeland. Likewise, Iranians also remember the British and Russian empires’ economic exploitation, political subjugation, invasion and occupation in both World Wars. Moreover, the impact of the coup d’état against democratically elected Mossadegh in 1953 and the return of the autocratic Shah to the throne, and subsequent perceived American domination of Iran for a quarter century is seared into Iran's collective memory.

This paradoxical combination of historical awareness, cultural pride, and a sense of victimization at the hand of foreign powers, has created a passionate sense of independence and a culture of resistance to domination by any foreign power, as well as a deep desire to re-establish a ‘natural’ Iranian regional hegemony among the Iranian people. The four fundamental principles of Iranian foreign policy - rejection of all forms of external domination, preservation of Iran’s independence and territorial integrity, defence of the rights of all Muslims without allying with hegemonic power, and the maintenance of peaceful relations with all non-belligerent states - are rooted in these widely held sentiments.

Iranian statecraft

Contrary to some Western depictions of Iranian foreign policy as irrational and contradictory, Tehran's foreign policy has its own strategic logic steeped in its particular idiosyncrasies. Formulated not by “mad mullahs” but by calculating Ayatollahs, Iran’s contemporary behaviour is a far cry from its revolutionary zenith in the 1980’s when its main objective was to export the revolution through provocation, agitation, subversion, and terrorism.

In the post-Khomeini era, Tehran’s top priority has been the survival of the Islamic Republic. It views the United States as an existential threat and to counter this threat Iran devised a strategy that rests on both deterrence and competition in the Middle East, and increasingly looks to non-western states for political and economic cooperation. In this context, China, India and Russia emerged as strategically important partners. According to its strategy, Tehran balances between deterring any possible military actions by the United States and its allies – largely by improving its retaliatory capabilities both inside and outside the country – and neutralizing Western attempts to contain it, as well as undermining U.S. interests and increasing its own power in the wider Middle East.

Yet, to many external observers Iran’s behaviour remains fundamentally enigmatic. On the one hand, this can be partly attributed to the ambiguities in the Iranian political system. Far from being a unitary actor, Iran seems like a country of a thousand power centres, with its political networks and affiliations resting upon personal connections rather than an institutional framework, with layers of complexity and contradictions beneath the surface of its political system. Indeed, political factionalism and friction in Iran’s political system emanating from the competition for power between its Islamic and republican institutions, at times, causes oscillation between ideological and pragmatic concerns in its foreign policy.

On the other hand, the imprudence in Ahmadinejad’s rhetoric, especially regarding Israel and the Holocaust, hardly reinforces the image of pragmatic Iran. On the contrary, it invites comparison between Ahmadinejad’s foreign policy and revolutionary Khomeinism of the 1980’s. However, such analogies overestimate the role and influence of the President in Iranian foreign policy. Indeed, while there have been considerable differences in the foreign policies of Rafsanjani, Khatami and Ahmadinejad, Iran’s foreign policy has had considerable continuity through Supreme Leader Khamene’i whose authority supersedes that of the President’s Office. More importantly, however, such analogies grossly underestimate the impact of regional geopolitics.

Geopolitics

A close analysis of Iran's actions in the region shows that in the post-Khomeini era, Iran has shifted its policies to securing the revolution within its borders rather than exporting it. Where its immediate security is concerned, Tehran has come to focus on geopolitical factors over ideological concerns. However, ideology remains an important part of its foreign policy where it has little security implications.

Adjacent to its borders, Iran’s foreign policy has been mainly influenced by strategic concerns. Facing sectarian conflict and fragile states outside its borders, Iran's domestic characteristics, its ethnic politics and cultural-religious identity, and its national security have become inextricably tied to that of the region. The Global War on Terror, the invasions of Afghanistan and Iraq, and the post-invasion landscape have only served to intensify this complex security interdependence.

In Afghanistan, Iran’s strategic goal has remained unchanged for the last nine years. Most importantly it has aimed to prevent Afghanistan from being used as a platform for attacks, concurrently maximizing its own influence. It has included isolating Iran from threats that undermine the Islamic Republic and its domestic stability, and negating potential threats to Iran’s standing as a regional power. Subsequently, Tehran has formed and cultivated relationships with Shi’a Hazara and other Dari/Persian-speaking communities who could keep Iran’s Afghan enemies and their external supporters in check and use them as a counterweight to anti-Iranian, pro-Saudi, and pro-Pakistani elements among Afghan Pashtuns.

Iran's strategic priorities in post-invasion Iraq have been equally continuous. Establishing a friendly, preferably Shiite government with the capacity to impose and maintain order – albeit too weak to challenge Iran’s hegemonic aspirations – has been Tehran’s main objective. It has opposed the Balkanization of Iraq, fearing that such fragmentation would incite secessionism and fragmentation. Additionally, Tehran has actively sought to eliminate, or at least balance pro-Saudi and pro-Pakistani elements operating in Iraq. Similar to Afghanistan, Tehran has sought to achieve its goals through cultivating relations with several factions in Iraq’s Shi’a majority.

However, in the Levant, where there have been less direct security consequences, Iranian behaviour has been more heavily influenced by ideological factors, seeing a partnership forming between local armed non-state actors and Tehran. The strategic rationale behind Tehran’s regional policy vis-à-vis the Levant has been to increase its Islamic credentials, to compete with Saudi Arabia over Lebanon, and to maintain an irregular capacity to challenge Israel and America through supporting Hezbollah, and to a lesser extent, Hamas. Indeed, in the Levant, supporting the armed non-state actors presented Iran with an opportunity to cultivate cooperation with actors who share its foreign policy principles, approach to American influence over the region, and disdain toward the policies of Arab regimes, especially vis-a-vis the Middle East Peace Process. Somewhat ironically, the conflicts that occurred in the region have largely facilitated Iranian regional influence and increased its prestige. Supporting armed non-state actors in the Levant provided invaluable strategic partnerships in a region where Iran and its behaviour are largely met with suspicion and containment, and with little risk of Israeli or American retaliation, Iranian support for these groups has been more robust than in Afghanistan or Iraq.

The Revolutionary Myth

Although the many stereotypes of Iranian foreign policy persist, and are likely to do so for the near future, they should not continue to go unchallenged. There is hardly a ‘one-size-fits-all approach’ when it comes to Iranian foreign policy, which the ‘mad mullah’ paradigm relies upon, nor is Iran a unitary actor run by a cohesive foreign policy elite. Indeed, Tehran’s foreign policy has an undeniable logic that cannot be divorced from Iran’s cultural, political and historical idiosyncrasies, or the impact of regional geopolitical dynamics.

During the Global War on Terror, Tehran has shown itself to be acutely aware of the geopolitical dynamics of the wider Middle East, which has allowed it to increase its stature mainly by reacting to regional events and American misunderstanding of regional dynamics, Iran’s intentions and behaviour largely facilitated Iranian presence. While there has been considerable variation in Iranian foreign policy between ideological and pragmatic elements, it has been the geopolitical context that has mainly determined Iranian behaviour. In Afghanistan and Iraq on the one hand, and the Levant on the other, Iran’s policies have been considerably different simply because they present very different challenges and opportunities to Tehran. Its objectives, strategies and concerns have been somewhat different in each case, leading to different approaches which fit into the fundamental principles in Iran’s foreign policy.

Fundamentally, there is a significant need for Western policy-makers and analysts alike to better understand Iran, especially when facing potential clash over Tehran’s speculated nuclear weapons program. Indeed, Iran’s many idiosyncrasies need to be considered and embedded in the analysis of Tehran's foreign policy behaviour, or the underlying rationale guiding its behaviour will likely go unseen, severely crippling the ability to develop an effective long-term strategy toward Iran.

Juha Saarinen holds a Master of Letters in Middle Eastern and Central Asian Studies from the University of St. Andrews, and he currently studies at LSE for a Master of Science in International Relations, with a research focus on Strategic Studies and Political Violence in the Middle East.

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