The Complexities of Power Sharing in Iraq

By Caelum Moffatt

On 25 November, Iraqi President Jalal Talabani officially invited incumbent Prime Minister Nouri al-Maliki to form a government. According to the Iraqi Constitution, the Shiite leader of the State of Law Coalition (SLC) will now have 30 days to negotiate with the major political blocs and establish an all inclusive cabinet that attempts to break the eight-month political impasse.

In order to render the process as democratic as possible, a points system has been devised whereby available positions within the cabinet are allocated a numerical value depending on their importance. If, as it is speculated, one point is equal to 2.4 parliamentary seats, each political entity will only be permitted to hold positions that its parliamentary share allows. Although every party will be able to nominate candidates for each place, the interior and defence ministries will be reserved for independents and the ‘sovereign ministries’ – oil, finance and foreign affairs – will be divided between the three major blocs. Once nominations have been submitted, al-Maliki will decide who is appointed.

Members of al-Maliki’s inner circle remain optimistic that this method will reap tangible and effective results. However the initiation of the points system does not work to diminish the competition for positions both within and between political blocs as parties assign different meanings to each post.

The sine qua non for success is Iraqiyah, the largest bloc in the Council of Representatives and an alliance that draws most of its support from Iraq’s Sunni population. A notable absentee from al-Maliki’s inauguration ceremony, Iraqiyah’s leader, Iyad Allawi, reiterates that there are three preconditions for compliance: the establishment of a National Council for Strategic Policies (NCSP), chaired by Iraqiyah and awarded executive powers; the recognition of this Council as the centre for promoting national reconciliation; and the exoneration of four Iraqiyah colleagues who were accused by the Accountability and Justice Commission before the elections of being affiliated to Saddam Hussein’s Ba’ath Party.

Iyad Allawi, believing that his coalition has already conceded its constitutional right to form a government, warned that Iraqiyah will not concede on these matters. Despite this explicit threat, al-Maliki, who spent his first term centralising executive powers to his office, publicly opposes bestowing executive authority on the NCSP, insisting that it act purely as an advisory body for foreign, security and domestic affairs.

The implementation of the de-Ba’athification process is also a highly sensitive subject that extends beyond al-Maliki. Iraq may be fraught with sectarian divisions but the Kurdish and Shiite blocs are unanimous in their unequivocal commitment to ensure the removal of remnant Ba’ath loyalists from the political process. Whether links between Iraqiyah and the Ba’ath Party can be substantiated or whether they merely serve as a political expedient to legitimise the marginalisation of Iraqiyah is a discussion that exceeds the remit of this piece. Either way, a political frame that associates Iraqiyah with Saddam Hussein risks damaging the prospects for national reconciliation by widening the chasm between Iraqiyah and the other political blocs, leading to a split that could exacerbate tensions and further destabilise Iraq as disgruntled Sunni militants mobilise in response to this exclusion.

Aside from Iraqiyah, al-Maliki must manage other internal disputes that could undermine any prospective power-sharing agreement and the establishment of a functional government. These include balancing between the dichotomous views of Iraqi nationalists and his Kurdish allies regarding oil and land in the north as well as granting the Sadrists enough influence to satisfy their expectations and reflect the party’s standing without considerably enhancing the public profile of the recalcitrant Muqtada al-Sadr.

The removal of Saddam Hussein unleashed the manifestation of an endemic deficiency of trust that plagues Iraqi politics. As a result, al-Maliki has the unenviable task of reaching a compromise between mutually suspicious sectarian elites that viscerally protect their status and vigorously pursue the interests of their respective constituencies.

In a more evolved democracy, Iraqiyah would inevitably sit in opposition, expose the government’s shortcomings and construct national policies that aim to supersede sectarian narratives. Unfortunately, in the present climate, such a strategy would enable the Shiites and Kurds to monopolise and consolidate the corridors of power. Additionally, the bonds that unite Iraqiyah may erode as Sunnis become alienated and further disenchanted with politics.

For this reason, Iraq is frequently compared to Lebanon’s consociational democracy and predictions foretell the gradual ‘Lebanonisation of Iraq’. For now however, sectarianism in Iraq is not as entrenched or institutionalised as it is in Lebanon. Neutralising the impact of sectarianism requires limiting the channels and contexts through which it can be exploited. Power-sharing is a fundamental step to the development of Iraq’s experiment with democracy in presenting an opportunity for cooperation through the composition of a national agenda that assists in building trust amongst its politicians.


Caelum Moffatt is a PhD candidate in Middle East Politics at Durham University, focusing on the politicisation of armed Islamic social movements.

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.

Silvia L. Peneva, Editor

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

“Little Britain” ~ the New Coalition Government and the Middle East

By Matthew Hinds

With party deal-making and cabinet resignations so far making the headlines, scant attention has been paid to what the future policy of the new Con-Lib coalition government will be in key areas where British diplomatic and military involvement has been so prevalent in recent years: The Middle East, including the Arab-Israeli conflict, Iraq, Iran and Afghanistan. This may be considered a reflection of the fact that the heartbeat of British politics in recent months has been unusually local and insular for British standards, focusing squarely on the drama of the recent election, the continuing expense scandal and the poor shape of the economy. However, domestic concerns will not insulate the coalition government from having to address a number of vital policy questions centred on the Middle East in particular.

Looking at the Middle East from a British perspective, the damaged legacy of the Bush-Blair era is still sharply felt. For ten long years, the Labour Government has grossly overstretched the country’s armed services and weakened its diplomatic standing in the Middle East. This week’s Mavi Marmara flotilla incident has once again turned everyone’s attention to the Middle East at an inopportune moment for the coalition government. The new Foreign Secretary, William Hague, publically stated that the Gaza blockade is “unacceptable”, knowing that Israeli actions have undermined a key British strategic priority - convincing Arab states to support broader sanctions against Iran. With that being said, an intervention by the British military in Iran is almost unthinkable at a time when British forces in Afghanistan are scaling back operations, not because of strategy but due to the lack of crucial military hardware, like the scarcity of Chinook helicopters, which had jeopardized Operation Panther Claw in 2009.

Although it has been announced that there will be no withdrawal date for the 10,000 British military personnel in Afghanistan, the biggest challenge faced by the coalition is financial. Presently, the Ministry of Defence is running a deficit of 36 billion pounds, and the government would eventually like to cut the MoD’s running cost by 25%, thereby putting severe restrictions on Britain’s military capabilities internationally. The fact that Prime Minister David Cameron has already put into place a new US-style National Security Council does not point to Britain returning to the grand stage of international affairs as a world power. Rather, for the time being, it will be a cheerless forum in which the cabinet can discuss the shrinking of British power with the National Security Adviser, FCO mandarin Peter Ricketts and the Chief of Defence Staff, Sir Jock Stirrup. Discussions will include key questions such as whether Britain can afford to be involved in conflict zones like Iraq and Afghanistan, not to mention other fragile states that are considered to pose a threat to international stability - of which Yemen is prime example in the Middle East. To answer these sensitive questions, the coalition government has begun a Strategic Defence and Security Review that will publish a new National Security Strategy shortly.

A note of encouragement for leaders Cameron and Nick Clegg of the Liberal Democrats is that unlike the noted dissonance over the European Union, it is unlikely that the coalition’s Middle East policy will be a deal-breaker. It is indeed true that the Liberal Democrats have been more vocal than the Conservatives in their criticism of Britain’s bloody engagement in Helmand Province in Afghanistan. As recently as this past September, eyebrows were raised at the Liberal Democrat party conference when a motion was tabled stating that Britain should have “tea with the Taliban” in the hope of finding a quick exit out of Afghanistan. Moreover, out of the three major parties in British politics, the Liberal Democrats have been most consistent in their critique of Israel as shown by the party’s support for the Goldstone Report, which censured Israel for committing war crimes in the Gaza War of 2008. Looking farther back, the revival of the Liberal Democrats political fortunes converged with the outset of the Iraq War in 2003 when the party outshined the Conservatives in their denunciation of the Labour Government’s belligerency along with its supine compliance with the Bush Administration.

It could be argued that the Liberal Democrats’ general opposition to the Bush-Blair era was an instructive political lesson for David Cameron. Over the past several years he has sought to recast the Conservative Party’s attitudes towards Britain’s role in the world, particularly pertaining to the Middle East. Speaking to an American audience on September 11, 2006, Cameron outlined his vision of “Liberal Conservatism,” where he stated that supporting the aims of democracy, freedom and humanitarian efforts are imperative, but it is folly not to recognize the limits of the utopian schemes that go with remaking the Middle East. Cameron poignantly stated: "Liberty grows from the ground; it cannot be dropped from the air by an unmanned drone." Simply put, the leader of the Conservative Party’s reflective analysis would go down pretty well at any Liberal Democrat student society.

In some Liberal Democratic circles, there is a fear that the new team of William Hague as Foreign Secretary and Liam Fox as the Minister of Defence constitutes a Thatcherite outpost that is operating at the centre of the coalition. To some extent this may be true. However, it should be noted that when speaking of the former, Hague happily articulates the broad concept of “Liberal Conservatism” more eloquently than the Prime Minister himself, a feat unsurprising when considering that the Foreign Secretary is a keen student of British history having written biographies with equal passion on the liberal Wilberforce and conservative Pitt the Younger.

One political circumstance that will work to the benefit of keeping the Coalition Government together is the stance of the United States under Barack Obama. When the next crisis unfolds in the Middle East, the Liberal Democrats’ traditional skepticism of the Atlantic Alliance as an expression of British policy will be less of an issue given the general consensus that the Obama Administration, in stark contrast to the Blair–Bush era, has little interest in Britain serving as a junior partner to the United States. With the Conservatives dominating foreign policy, it will be the leader of the Liberal Democrats, Nick Clegg’s job to make sure that the leftwing backbenchers of his party do not become an impassable roadblock to the coalition’s efforts in the Middle East.

What Conservatives and Liberal Democrats in the coalition cabinet can firmly agree on is that that Britain’s long-term engagement in the Middle East and the world, hinges principally on the country’s economic recovery. As such, Cameron is right. There will be no room for “utopian schemes”- even with the aid of an ally like the US - because Britain simply cannot afford it. After the blatant mismanagement of the Blair and Brown years, the only choice that the Con-Lib coalition has at the moment is a policy of “temporary retrenchment.” It is the challenge of combating deficits, debts and national insolvency that will be the driving narrative of this coalition, not political or military adventurism in the Middle East.

Matthew Hinds is a PhD candidate at the LSE in the International History Department. His PhD research focuses on Anglo-American Relations and Saudi Arabia. In the department he taught a class on Anglo-American Relations in the Middle East, 1952-1970.

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

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

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

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

What is the current relationship between al Qaeda and the Taliban?

By Juha Saarinen

Recent statements regarding a growing rift between al-Qaeda and Taliban by Omar bin Laden, son of Osama bin Laden, and Brigadier Sultan Amir Tarar, retired Inter-Services Intelligence (ISI) agency officer, have brought into light the fundamental problems facing the relationship of the two Islamist movements.

Emerging rifts

Two important developments occurred recently. First, reports have emerged that Taliban militants in the Pakistani border region are refusing to collaborate with al-Qaeda fighters, by not providing shelter or assistance even in return for payment. As a result, al-Qaeda fighters are being increasingly excluded from local communities near the Afghanistan-Pakistan border which previously functioned as their sanctuary.

Second, there exists an increasing “online rift” between Hanafi “nationalist” Taliban and Salafi “universalist” al-Qaeda, which started when Mullah Omar emphasized the nationalist character of Taliban in a statement for Eid al-Fitr in September 2009, drawing aggressive criticism from Abu Muhammad al-Maqdisi, one of the most influential living Salafi jihadi ideologues. This debate has since set the online jihadi communities ablaze. In late 2006, early 2007, online discord over Iraq “foreshadowed the dramatic split in the Iraqi insurgency in which key insurgency factions flipped to the U.S. side and formed the backbone of the Awakenings/ Sons of Iraq.”

These two occurrences are reflected in a recent interview of Omar bin Laden, who stated “Although Al-Qaeda and the Taliban organizations band together when necessary, they do not love one another.” Indeed, it seems the relationship between al-Qaeda and Taliban, outside the personal bond between Mullah Omar and Osama bin Laden, is largely strategic. However, recent Taliban overtures might well suggest the relationship is strained, and as the strategic importance of the relationship declines, ideological differences are becoming pivotal.

An “ally” on the wane

In its quest to restore its presence in Afghanistan, al-Qaeda has failed to make considerable strides and is on the wane while the Taliban insurgency is gaining momentum. According to U.S. intelligence officials, al-Qaeda has approximately a hundred fighters in Afghanistan, and its financial situation is dire. It seems to have lost the capability to launch large-scale coordinated attacks, and relies on Taliban for operational support. Although it retains contacts with insurgents and insurgency groups, its role in the insurgency is increasingly being questioned.

Indeed, al-Qaeda’s strategic utility to Taliban is diminishing, perhaps even to the point where Mullah Omar is contemplating severing ties with al-Qaeda, as suggested by his former mentor and retired ISI officer Tarar in late January 2010. Although such as split is highly improbable in the short term, there has been a notable shift in Taliban’s strategic communication following Mullah Omar’s statement in September 2009, and it now seeks to distance itself from al-Qaeda. Indeed, Taliban is focusing on moderating its image as part of its campaign to retake power in Afghanistan and its relationship with al-Qaeda presents a potential liability.

External pressure

While al-Qaeda’s presence in Afghanistan is relatively marginal, its presence in Pakistan is considerably larger. As a result of Taliban’s reassessment of its ties with al-Qaeda, it has drawn closer to other militant groups in Pakistan's tribal belt, like the Haqqani Network, and groups trying to overthrow the Pakistani government.

Facing a growing insurgency back home and al-Qaeda’s ambitions in Pakistan, Islamabad drew its own conclusions. At this point, it is uncertain whether the recent arrests of al-Qaeda operatives and senior Taliban leadership in Pakistan are a result of a significant policy reversal. However, it is likely to signal to Taliban that its relationship with al-Qaeda is not viewed positively by Islamabad, and it has its repercussions. Certainly, al-Qaeda’s operations in Pakistan complicate the Taliban’s strategic calculus, and will have repercussions to be mapped out in the coming months.

Differing opinions

Naturally, there are different views on the situation. The Obama administration still underlines the threat al-Qaeda presents in Afghanistan, and some regard the possibility of a split between al-Qaeda and Taliban, as speculated by Tarar, as little more than wishful thinking.

Certainly, there is very little evidence to suggest that Mullah Omar prefers cutting ties with bin Laden and other Al Qaeda leaders. Likewise, a complete rupture remains unlikely, as al-Qaeda militants have formed social connections in the region during their stay, and the Pashtunwali demands unfailing hospitality towards guests. However, even Taliban hospitality has its limits, and the idiosyncratic bond between Mullah Omar and Osama is not beyond reconsideration.

Nevertheless, al-Qaeda has been important to Taliban in the past, and there is little benefit in ostracising them in the current strategic situation. Antagonising al-Qaeda would additionally eschew Taliban’s politico-religious legitimacy, which it can ill afford. However, al-Qaeda needs to continually prove its worth, providing contacts in the Gulf, equipment, funds, bomb expertise and propaganda advice. As long as its benefits are higher than the costs in Taliban’s strategic calculus, there are limits to how far Taliban can distance itself from al-Qaeda.

Prospects

While al-Qaeda and Taliban have a complex relationship that for now seems troubled, a split, at least in the current situation, is highly improbable. While Taliban has made overtures implying the ideological and strategic frictions have taken their toll on the relationship, they still have only little to achieve by ostracizing or antagonising al-Qaeda, and more to lose.

The role of Pakistan however, will be crucial in the coming months, and should the power balance in the region change, Taliban might find itself in a position where strategic interests trump ideological and idiosyncratic bonds. Indeed, common strategic interests, however limited they may be, are a sine qua non for the relationship. Otherwise ideological differences would no doubt prevail, and al-Qaeda could find itself marginalised.

Whether the recent refusal of the Taliban militants to assist al-Qaeda fighters is a result of a policy change in the Taliban leadership or an unsanctioned local development is unclear, but all the same signals troubled times for the relationship.

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.

Next Week: Jordan’s Frustration with the Middle East Peace Process

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

Yemen: Secession Scenarios

Welcome to the Shifting Sands blog at LSE IDEAS. We invite PhD students and academics from throughout the UK and abroad to analyse current events in the Middle East and add to the ongoing deliberations over policy prescriptions. Our next contributor, Christopher Swift, delves into the historical and current basis for the secession movement in Yemen.

We look forward to exploring both regional and topical issues relating to current events.
Amber Holewinski, Editor, LSE IDEAS Middle East International Affairs Programme Blog

Yemen: Secession Scenarios

By Christopher Swift

Three months after the failed bombing of Northwest Flight 253, terrorism has become the dominant theme in Yemen’s foreign policy. On 29 March, Deputy Yemeni Planning Minister Hisham Sharaf Abdullah presented a five-year, $44 billion aid plan to the so-called ‘Friends of Yemen’ group in Abu Dhabi. And earlier that same day, Yemeni Vice President Abd al-Rab Mansur al-Hadi told a U.S. Congressional delegation that additional bilateral assistance would be necessary to confront the threat posed by al-Qaeda in the Arabian Peninsula (AQAP).

The linkage between economic malaise and Islamic militancy is credible. Thirty-four percent of Yemen’s population is unemployed. Forty percent live below the poverty line. And nearly seventy percent is below the age of twenty-four. With water tables receding, oil revenues dwindling, and the population rapidly increasing, conditions are ripe for institutional collapse and popular radicalization. Yet strangely absent from this discourse are the injuries Yemen visited on itself. From endemic corruption to political repression, weak governance also contributes to Yemen’s internal unrest.

These self-inflicted wounds manifest in two distinct insurgencies: a sectarian rebellion in the north, and a secular secessionist movement in the south. The former pits Yemen’s Sunni regime against Houthi militants from the Zaidi Shi’a community. The latter perpetuates tensions lingering since the 1994 Yemen Civil War. Although the two conflicts have little in common from a sociological or even ideological perspective, each undermines the integrity and legitimacy of the Yemeni state.

Against that backdrop, Yemeni President Ali Abdullal Saleh’s recent truce with the Houthi rebels is an encouraging development. That truce is tenuous at best. Since 2004, Sana’a and the Houthi have entered and broken four similar agreements. More significantly, the issues driving the rebellion - religious differences, political disenfranchisement, and economic dislocation - remain unresolved. Yet even a temporary respite from this recurring conflict would free Yemeni security forces for operations against AQAP. And to the extent that the truce quiets sectarian strife, it may also dissuade future interventions from Saudi Arabia and Iran.

Developments in southern Yemen are far less auspicious. Since 2007, the so-called Southern Movement has organized demonstrations and other forms of civil disobedience to protest Sana’s policies toward the six provinces that once comprised the People’s Democratic Republic of Yemen (PDRY). Yet starting in 2008, those protests grew increasingly violent, with government security forces killing and wounding scores of protestors. By 2009, armed factions within the Southern Movement were responding in kind, with sporadic gun battles breaking out in cities and towns across the south. With tensions mounting, a growing number of southern political figures now demand independence.

Those demands stem from three mutually-reinforcing sources of resentment. The first is the Yemeni government’s alleged appropriation and misallocation of the south’s oil wealth. The second is alleged discrimination against southerners with respect to government employment, educational opportunities, and other forms of political patronage. The third is the systematic and sometimes brutal repression of political dissent by the Yemeni security forces - repression that invites apprehension from Western donors and condemnation from prominent human rights organizations. These conditions undermine national unity. According to a poll conducted by the Yemen Centre for Civil Liberties in January 2010, seventy percent of Yemenis living in the former PDRY now favour independence.

History also informs secessionist impulses. Although the 1990 merger between the two Yemen’s was initially amicable, integrating the two political and economic systems quickly proved contentious. By 1994, the Yemen Socialist Party had broken with the coalition government and reasserted independence. The resulting civil war produced unconventional alignments. Wary of Saleh’s support for Iraq during the 1991 Persian Gulf War, Saudi Arabia reversed its support for the more traditional north and intervened on behalf of the socialist South. The North responded by recruiting Yemeni veterans of the Soviet-Afghan War in a bid to crush the rebellion.

Those alignments are now reversed. Wary of Yemen’s potential collapse, the Saudi government has stepped up bilateral cooperation with Saleh’s beleaguered regime. Yemen’s Afghan Arabs, in turn, have seized upon North-South tensions to advance their own agendas. Foremost among them is Tariq al-Fadhli, who broke a 15-year alliance with Saleh in April 2009 to join the secessionist movement. AQAP has also entered the fray, with leader Nasser al-Wahayshi calling for the south’s secession and the creation of an Islamic state in the region in May 2009.

Working from that basis, some pro-government observers now allege collaboration between the Southern Movement and radical Islamist syndicates. Yet a common cause does not necessarily imply a common scheme. For the socialists, secession portends a return to political power. For tribal leaders like al-Fadhli, independence promises greater autonomy. And for AQAP, sustained civil conflict provides a means of radicalizing and recruiting ordinary Yemenis into its ranks. In this sense, the current convergence of interests masks a set of distinct and ultimately diverging agendas.

Those agendas offer some insight into both the character and consequences of civil conflict in Yemen. Although the Southern Movement may dream of an independent state, it lacks the institutional infrastructure and military apparatus possessed by the Yemen Socialist Party in 1994. And while Saleh’s government may wish to preserve national unity, dwindling revenues and mounting resentments undermine the patronage system on which that unity depends. Thus neither the North nor the South is likely to realize its ambitions. And rather than fracturing into two independent polities, the steady erosion of social and political cohesion seems more likely to produce a Yemen that resembles neighboring Somalia.

That scenario may empower tribal leaders. To the extent that national governance becomes intolerable or ineffectual, traditional social and political structures will invariably fill the void. This observation may help explain al-Fadhli’s break with Saleh and subsequent calls for independence. Yet the real beneficiaries are al-Wahayshi and his allies in the Hadhramaut valley. So long as Yemen’s internal conflicts remain unresolved, the state will be unable to address the social and economic hardships that undermine public order. And so long as that order is in disarray, AQAP stands to profit from the discord.

Christopher Swift is an attorney in the Washington, DC office of Baker Botts, LLP and a Ph.D. candidate in the Department of Politics & International Studies at the University of Cambridge. His research examines convergence and divergence in contemporary Islamic militancy, with an emphasis on the relationship between al-Qaeda and indigenous Muslim insurgencies. He has conducted fieldwork in regions including southern Afghanistan and the North Caucasus.

Next Week: RMA: The Revolution in Military Affairs and the changing nature of warfare in the Middle East

Lebanon and Syria: What are the prospects for improved relations?

Welcome to the Shifting Sands blog at LSE IDEAS. We invite PhD students and academics from throughout the UK and abroad to analyse current events in the Middle East and add to the ongoing deliberations over policy prescriptions. Our next contributor, Hannes Baumann, explores the changing dynamics in Lebanese-Syrian relations.

We look forward to exploring both regional and topical issues relating to current events.
Amber Holewinski, Editor, LSE IDEAS Middle East International Affairs Programme Blog

Lebanon and Syria: What are the prospects for improved relations?

By Hannes Baumann

One cliché loved by Western journalists writing about Syria is the “road to Damascus.” A particularly astonishing conversion occurred on the Beirut-Damascus highway on 31 March, when Lebanese-Druze leader Walid Jumblat travelled to the Syrian capital to pay his respects to President Bashar Assad. Having previously called Assad a monkey, snake, crocodile, and murderer, Jumblat recently rediscovered Syria as his “family and home.” Considered the “weathervane” of Lebanese politics (another cliché loved by Western journalists), the Druze leader knows where the wind is blowing. Lebanon’s Sunni Prime Minister Saad Hariri already paid a visit to Damascus in December 2009, the first such trip by a Lebanese head of government since 2005. Damascus, too, has made concessions: For the first time since independence in 1946, the two countries have exchanged ambassadors and there is talk of a final demarcation of the border.

Hariri and Jumblat had been the leaders of Lebanon’s “March 14” coalition, which formed after the assassination of Saad Hariri’s father, former Prime Minister Rafiq Hariri, on 14 February 2005. Some Christian leaders joined Jumblat and Hariri in immediately identifying Damascus as the culprit of the assassination. They found willing allies in US President George W. Bush, French President Jacques Chirac, and the Saudi leadership. The United States withdrew their ambassador from Syria amid clamour for regime change. A UN investigation into the murder promptly – and conveniently – identified the Syrian regime as the prime suspect. Syria was forced to withdraw its troops from Lebanon, stationed there since 1976. Damascus’ allies gathered in the “March 8” coalition, comprising the Shi’i movements Hezbollah and Amal, as well as Christian leader Michel Aoun. The tension between “March 8” and “March 14” intensified after the Israeli war with Lebanon in July 2006. Lebanon reached the brink when Hezbollah and its allies overwhelmed Druze and Sunni militants in violent clashes in May 2008. This was a turning point: with Qatari mediation, Lebanese politicians negotiated a compromise, paving the way for presidential and parliamentary elections and for improved relations with Syria. The Obama administration nominated an ambassador to Damascus to the U.S. Senate in February 2010, Saudi Arabia has resumed financial aid to Syria, and Jumblat and Hariri are reconciling with Assad. Only the two Maronite Christian leaders Samir Geagea and Amin Gemayel still oppose the rapprochement.

Does the demise of “March 14” as an “anti-Syrian” coalition signal a fundamental change in Syrian-Lebanese relations? For an answer, we need to look at the two fundamental factors that shape this relationship. First, Syria and Lebanon have had two very different experiences of state formation. Lebanon’s confessional power-sharing arrangement has fostered a political elite whose members look for outside help against domestic opponents. Since independence in 1946, Lebanon has been an arena for regional conflicts. The same used to be true for post-independence Syria but the Ba’thist coup in 1963 and Hafiz Assad’s takeover in 1970 insulated the military regime from foreign meddling. Syria had moved from being acted upon to being an actor in regional politics – including Lebanon. Syria’s strategy in Lebanon is shaped by its stance in the Arab-Israeli conflict, the second major factor in Syrian-Lebanese relations. Since 1973 it has been Syria’s preferred option to regain the occupied Golan Heights through a negotiated settlement with Israel. However, the Ba’thist regime sought a comprehensive Arab-Israeli settlement from a position of strength, rather than a succession of separate peace treaties by individual Arab states, which would leave the Palestinians out in the cold.

Lebanon has been a major irritant in Syria’s aggressive quest to capture the commanding heights of Arab strategy. Militarily, Syria feared an Israeli invasion via Lebanon’s Bekaa Valley. On the diplomatic level, Syria sought to prevent a separate peace agreement between Lebanon and Israel. These concerns shaped Syrian intervention in the Lebanese civil war 1975-1990. The Taif peace accord of 1989 shaped Lebanon’s post-war political order and legitimised Syrian domination. While Assad was negotiating with Israel from 1991 to 2000, Lebanon had to await a prior Israeli-Syrian settlement. This led to contradictory developments inside Lebanon. The businessman-prime minister and Saudi ally Rafiq Hariri pursued a neoliberal reconstruction programme, which was premised on peace with Israel. While peace remained a prospect, Hariri was happy to accept Syrian domination in Lebanon. Meanwhile, southern Lebanon remained occupied by Israel. The Shi’i Hezbollah movement attacked Israeli troops and, at times, shot rockets at Israeli towns. For Assad, the Syrian alliance with Hezbollah provided a “card” he could play in negotiations with Israel. Despite two major Israeli attacks on Lebanon in 1993 and 1996, this period was marked by relative calm in Lebanese politics. The situation changed dramatically after 2000: Israeli-Syrian negotiations collapsed, Hafiz Assad was succeeded by his son Bashar, and Israel withdrew from southern Lebanon. The contradictions between Hariri’s “reconstruction” and Hezbollah’s “resistance” came to the fore, while US clamour for “regime change” in Syria hastened the political crisis that led to Hariri’s assassination in 2005.

Syria has now reasserted its position. Saudi Arabia, the United States, and most of “March 14” have reconciled with Damascus. Prior to the Gaza war in January 2009, Assad engaged in indirect negotiations with Israel, mediated by Turkey. If the regional thaw persists, Syrian-Lebanese relations will remain cordial. However, the fundamental factors shaping the relationship remain unchanged. Lebanon’s leaders are still relying on foreign allies to bolster their position. A return of Saudi-Syrian tension would spur confrontation between Hariri and Assad. Conversely, a Syrian-Israeli peace deal could break up Hezbollah’s alliance with Damascus. Domestically, Hariri and Jumblat are struggling to convince their following of the need for reconciliation with Syria, which contradicts four years of popular mobilisation against Damascus. Meanwhile, the threshold for Syrian-Israel peace remains high. Israel demands that Syria break with Iran, Hamas and Hezbollah prior to returning the occupied Golan Heights, while Syria rejects any preconditions to the recovery of its territory. For Lebanese-Syrian relations, expect more of the same.

Hannes Baumann is a PhD student at the School of Oriental and African Studies (SOAS) and focuses on Lebanon.

Next Week: Yemen: Secession Scenarios

Egypt: What are the potential internal political affects of the Gaza wall?

Welcome to the Shifting Sands blog at LSE IDEAS. We invite PhD students and academics from throughout the UK and abroad to analyse current events in the Middle East and add to the ongoing deliberations over policy prescriptions. Our next contributor, Guy Burton, explores the political implications of the Gaza wall inside Egypt.

We look forward to exploring both regional and topical issues relating to current events.
Amber Holewinski, Editor, LSE IDEAS Middle East International Affairs Programme Blog

Egypt: What are the potential internal political affects of the Gaza wall?

By Guy Burton

In December foreign protestors travelled to Egypt with the purpose of marking the anniversary of Israel’s Operation Cast Lead in Gaza, which left approximately 1400 Palestinians and thirteen Israelis dead. However, their efforts resulted in a crackdown by the authorities who sought to prevent them from crossing the Sinai Peninsula to the border crossing of Rafah.

Cairo’s response was in line with its Gaza policy. The Egyptian leadership has been active in trying to insulate the situation in Gaza from spilling over domestically. To date it seems that it has largely succeeded, although it is uncertain how sustainable it will be, especially given next year’s presidential election and the likelihood of the current president, Hosni Mubarak, stepping down after 30 years in power.

Under Mubarak, the Egyptian leadership sought a mediating role between Israel and Palestine, a role which is supported by Washington. Egypt’s engagement has cost it regional influence, losing public Arab and Muslim support to the more confrontational Syrian and Iranian leaderships. Yet arguably Cairo’s stance could not be otherwise: Israel’s blockade of the Gaza Strip has put increasing pressure on Rafah as the main point of entry. Unable to meet the demand, Palestinians in Gaza have increasingly resorted to the use of underground tunnels to bring in everyday items. But it was also through these routes that weapons have been brought into Gaza, with which militias have targeted Israeli settlements on the other side.

As a result, Egypt has adopted a two-fold strategy. First, it has been involved in various negotiations between Israel and the dominant Hamas party that gained power in Gaza in 2007. Although not a supporter of Hamas, Mubarak’s government has contributed to the stop-start talks over the captured Israeli soldier, Gilad Shalit, in 2006 and helped broker a ceasefire between the two parties during the first half of 2008. Second, it has responded to pressure from both the Israelis and the US to stop the use of these tunnels. Consequently, over the past three years it has stepped up security measures and surveillance along the border, bringing the level of smuggling down from its peak in 2008.

Even though Egypt has received regional opprobrium for its stance, the policy has yet to compromise the regime domestically. Although there were several attacks in Cairo in the months following the Israel-Gaza conflict, including the bombing of the Khan el-Khalili market which left one foreign tourist dead, they were soon discounted as the harbinger of a more organised campaign against the government.

Although the most visible demonstrations over Gaza have come from the main opposition, the Muslim Brotherhood, its capacity to destabilise the regime remains severely constrained. Not only is its level of support modest, it is unable to project itself sufficiently to challenge the regime. The government’s use of legal constraints prevents the Muslim Brotherhood from organising as a political party, thereby forcing its candidates to stand as independents and excluding it from running for the presidency.

That the regime is so dominant demonstrates the manner in which it has controlled the political process in Egypt. Despite a process of economic and political liberalisation (during which state participation in the economy has declined and the number of civil society organisations has grown), the leadership continues to count on both the support of key actors (i.e. big business, the military, internal security forces and the bureaucracy) and various forms of coercion. This helped maintain a weak opposition in both political and civil society, the Brotherhood excepted. Consequently Mubarak’s successor – if it is not his son, Gamal – will most likely emerge from within the regime.

Similarly, the regime has avoided any fallout from the global financial crisis. With an economy dominated by tourism, exports, and revenues from the Suez Canal, there was concern in late 2008. Figures from the first quarter of 2009 reinforced those fears: GDP fell by 4% and unemployment rose above 9%. Meanwhile, poverty levels increased from 19% to 21%. However, last month the IMF reported that Egypt’s economy had been insulated by its lack of exposure to financial markets and structured products. The Prime Minister, Ahmed Nazif, reported that while the unemployment level remains stable at the current rate, the economy is now projected to grow by 5% this year.

However, that the regime appears securely in control does not mean that a smooth transition of power or policy continuity is assured next year. On one hand, risk may emerge from the presidential election itself, especially if the government candidate beats an independent candidate who has done well enough to arouse suspicion about the result. Like Iran last year and Mexico in 2006 (which like Egypt was dominated by one party until 2000), should this happen, then a ‘stolen election’ could act as an issue around which the domestic opposition could coalesce and grow. On the other hand, Mubarak’s successor will have to contend with Egypt’s declining regional credibility as an international mediator. This may encourage the new president to recalibrate policy strategy in relation to Gaza to conciliate Hamas and its supporters in Egypt.

But for either threat to emerge will depend on the salience of certain issues over the next 18 months. Among these factors will include whether economic recovery proves sustainable and the amount of domestic sympathy towards Gaza. The latter will be especially tested if public opinion increasingly sees the government’s Gaza policy as little different to that of Israel’s. Indeed, matters may not be helped by Egypt’s near completion of a controversial construction of a 10km long, 30m high steel wall on the Gaza border. Although it has been built to discourage smuggling through the tunnels, it may be seen as resembling the Separation Wall that Israel is building between itself and the Palestinians in the West Bank.

Guy Burton is a research associate for the LSE Ideas Centre.

Next Week: Lebanon and Syria: What are the prospects for improved relations?

Saudi Arabia: What are the effects of the global financial crisis on Saudi Arabia's economic prospects?

Welcome to the Shifting Sands blog at LSE IDEAS. We invite PhD students and academics from throughout the UK and abroad to analyse current events in the Middle East and add to the ongoing deliberations over policy prescriptions. Our next contributor, Matthew Hinds, explores the current and possible future effects of the global financial crisis on Saudi Arabia.

We look forward to exploring both regional and topical issues relating to current events.
Amber Holewinski, Editor, LSE IDEAS Middle East International Affairs Programme Blog

Saudi Arabia: What are the effects of the global financial crisis on Saudi Arabia's economic prospects?

By Matthew Hinds

Although Saudi Arabia has to a great extent been insulated from the global downturn, the Kingdom’s economic future is not necessarily boundless and bright. Certainly Saudi Arabia’s excellent cash flow, liquidity, and its windfall of astounding oil profits throughout the decade left the Kingdom in a strong position when the financial crisis began. Financial analysts from Jadwa Investment Company project economic growth to rise to 3.8% in 2010 compared to the static figure of .15% in 2009. Amongst the Riyadh and Jeddah financial insiders, there exists a quiet confidence that the Saudi economy will continue to grow on the back of aggressive government spending, improved conditions in the private sector, and the increasing international demand for oil. Despite the American economy’s recent tailspin, the Saudi Arabian government announced in February that it was in the Kingdom’s future economic interest that the riyal will continue to be pegged to the dollar. One of the direct changes stemming from the financial crisis is that it has cajoled the government and banking authorities to become more diligent with regards to consumer credit and reviewing risk profiles; a weak link in the world of Islamic finance - see Dubai’s recent financial upheaval. Highly publicized episodes like the 2009 “Saad Scandal” implicated Maan Al Sanea and the Algosaibi family - pillars of the Saudi financial community - to a $10 billion Ponzi scheme, proving that even Saudi Arabia was not immune to its own Madoff-type ignominy. But whereas in the UK and USA the financial crisis has been viewed in existential terms, a bellwether moment in which Britons and Americans have questioned the very foundations of their own capitalist models, the Saudi Arabian government responded to the crisis as if it were an aberration, emphasizing the need to tweak rather than overhaul their banking system.

Overall, the lack of urgency shown by Saudi Arabia in response to the financial crisis is understandable. In those dark autumn days of 2008, when the United States’ mortgage system was unraveling, when Lehman Brothers was collapsing, when global capitalism itself was teetering on the brink, Saudi Arabia’s oil wells ignored the chaos and kept pumping. Certainly, Saudi Arabia was adversely affected by the extreme fluctuation in oil prices during the economic downturn, from $147 a barrel on July 2008 to $38 in December 2008. But it should not be overlooked that the Kingdom still holds over 20% of the world’s “proven” oil supplies, and it is rumoured that those with market knowledge estimate that the likely figure is closer to 40%, due to oilfields that have been undeclared. Furthermore, with Saudi Arabia’s current oil capacity so well known, it is easy to overlook that south of Riyadh promising new oilfields are being discovered. These new fields have minimal lifting costs and contain “sweet crude,” high quality oil with even lower refinement costs. In the aftermath of the world financial crisis, as the hopeful promise of the Copenhagen Climate Conference fades away, Saudi Arabian oil will become even more of a necessary entity in the “new normal” global economy. Oil will remain one of the bedrocks of this earthier kind of 21st century capitalism, providing material for many industries, including plastics, metals, paints and fertilizers. Companies like Sabic have not even begun to scratch the surface when it comes to Saudi Arabia’s unrealized potential in petrochemicals, but in the future expect them to dominate.

With this all being said, spotlighting the limited effects of the global financial crisis and the country’s oil paramountcy draws attention away from Saudi Arabia’s most crucial economic challenge: the question of how to integrate the Kingdom’s swelling population into its wider economy. As it stands now, the vast welfare state which Saudi Arabia’s government provides for its subjects was constructed for a different age; the age of Yamani circa 1973, when 5 million inhabitants could easily be taken care of by the quadrupling of oil prices. During this boon period, many Saudis were unwilling to accept low wages in the private sector, hence the country’s overreliance on a large expatriate workforce. For the 28 million Saudi subjects living in the economic downturn of 2010, “Saudization” ( the government’s policy of employing Saudi nationals in the private sector) cannot come fast enough as the current structure is unable to provide the same standard of living of years past. This reality becomes compounded when one factors that sixty percent of the population is under the age of 21. Saudi Arabian unemployment stood at 15% in 2009, but many experts believe that the government is trying to hide the real figure, which is said to hover at 25%.

Since ascending to the throne in 2005, the conservatively perceived King Abdullah has surprised many with his zeal for reform and desire to face up to these demographically rooted economic challenges. His initiatives to create jobs, extend the middle class and invest in education have come in many shapes and sizes, but all have been equally significant. As recently as March 7, 2010, King Abdullah addressed the Shoura Council (Saudi Arabia’s consultation body) calling for the creation of 200,000 jobs in the education sector to help facilitate Saudi Arabia’s ambitious “20 year employment strategy.” This trend toward emphasizing education has been made visible by the establishment of King Abdullah University of Science and Technology (KAUST). Having only opened in September 2009, KAUST is already ranked one of the top research centres in the world. However, what may have the greatest impact in terms of Saudi Arabia future economic output is King Abdullah’s decision to make KAUST the country’s first co-ed university. By promoting the normalization of mix gender working environments, women will be able to make a larger contribution to the country’s indigenous workforce, which will in turn give Saudi Arabia’s overstretched welfare system a needed rest.

Much like his older-half brother King Faisal, Abdullah is a pious reformer seeking to carefully bridge the gap between Saudi Arabia and the rest of the world, without causing the Kingdom to lose grip of its supreme Islamic identity. Though King Abdullah should be applauded for emending broken policies of the past in an effort to save his country’s future, he reminds this writer of Alexander II of Russia, the “Czar liberator”; a fateful notion of too little too late. Still possessing a crushing handshake, the King is nevertheless 85 years old. Therefore, coming out of the financial crisis, Saudi Arabia will continue to be a global economic force as long as it has the will to carry out social and economic reforms after King Abdullah is gone.

Matthew Hinds is a PhD candidate at the LSE in the International History Department. His Phd research focuses on Anglo-American Relations and Saudi Arabia. In the department he taught a class on Anglo-American Relations in the Middle East, 1952-1970.

Next Week: Egypt: What are the potential internal political affects of the Gaza wall?

Iraq: What happens when America pulls out?

Welcome to the Shifting Sands blog at LSE IDEAS. We invite PhD students and academics from throughout the UK and abroad to analyse current events in the Middle East and add to the ongoing deliberations over policy prescriptions. Our next contributor, Yaniv Voller, explores the implications of America’s full withdrawal from Iraq.

We look forward to exploring both regional and topical issues relating to current events.
Amber Holewinski, Editor, LSE IDEAS Middle East International Affairs Programme Blog

Iraq after America Leaves

By Yaniv Voller

Predicting the future is not an easy task. Nevertheless, Iraq’s political history provides some insights which might allow us to assess its post-American occupation future and provide at least one possible scenario.

As gloomy as it may sound, this writer believes that it will get worse – at least for the Iraqi people. It seems as though Nouri al-Maliki is taking the notorious part of the Iraqi dictator, relying on manipulation of sectarian and tribal loyalties, a weak party structure to boost his network of patronage, and a personal paramilitary committed to certain sects/regions. Indeed, it is hard to imagine that Maliki, or anyone else, can be cruel as Saddam Hussein – but the possibility of yet another dictator in Baghdad seems very plausible.

In fact, Iraq’s history offers no other alternative to dictatorship. It is not a matter of culture – but rather the fragile composition of the Iraqi population: sectarianism and tribalism have been played for almost a decade by the different governments in Baghdad and the tradition of patronage is embedded in the Iraqi political system. It is too easy and too tempting for a ruler to succumb to dictatorship, particularly one in the position of Maliki, who is striving to gain more power in the periphery to take advantage of this system.

Indeed, there are some alternatives. One which is espoused by scholars and practitioners, as well the Kurdish leadership in northern Iraq, is a federacy. Nonetheless, a weak Baghdad means that this federacy might end up as a confederacy, where the different components have no loyalty to the idea of an integrated Iraq and to the idea of Iraqi nationality. From confederacy, the road to Iraq’s disintegration is short. Although some may welcome such an event, it would only cause chaos and further resentment in a region already torn apart by the Shiite-Sunni and Arab/Turkish-Kurdish divides.

Another alternative is the Lebanese-style confessional system. According to such a system, every position in the government administration will be allocated according to sectarian affiliation – where the Shiites, for example, have the premiership, Kurds the presidency and Sunnis the Ministry of defence. In fact, the current Iraqi system is a de facto confessional system, with senior positions already allotted based on ethnic and religious lines. The institutionalisation of this system has been advocated fervently since the overthrow of Saddam Hussein, either by those who perceive it as necessary to compensate the Sunnis for their loss of power, or by those who believe that such a system would represent more justly the Shi’a majority. However, if any lesson can be drawn from the Lebanese case, it is that this system does not work: it is too enticing for both internal and external forces to manipulate such a system. The system perpetuates artificial animosities as well as sectarian affiliation – which are the last things that a nation trying to rebuild itself needs. Furthermore, the confessional system is far from meritocratic, as positions are used as means to appease rather than used to build viable state institutions. Functioning state institutions are integral to saving Iraq.

Indeed, a viable federal system, which will compromise Baghdad’s power but will preserve the idea of an Iraqi nation, is a blessed idea. But it requires a brave leader, free of sectarian loyalties and committed to the idea of the Iraqi nation. A leader who knows that by giving up on Kirkuk, for instance, he or she might give the Kurdish people the hope of being safe in their homeland as Iraqi citizens who are proud of their Kurdish heritage; that is aware of the fact that the Sunnis feel threatened by the growing Iranian influence, even if it is only an imagined one; and that the Shiites deserve compensation for years of marginalisation. Nouri al-Maliki has proven to not be this kind of leader.

The nightmarish scenarios, in which either the Ba’th or al-Qaeda overtake Iraq as soon as the Americans leave, seem quite farfetched. Even the threat of growing Iranian influence on Iraq seems less plausible now, though Maliki has proven that Iran is his natural supporter. So we are left with yet another tyrant – and with a torn apart, miserable Iraqi people. It might be good in the short run, at least from a regional perspective – but it is a recipe for instability and disaster in the long term.

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.

Next Week: Saudi Arabia: What are the effects of the global financial crisis on Saudi Arabia's economic prospects?

Turkey: Reengagement with the Middle East?

Welcome to the Middle East International Affairs (MEIA) blog at LSE IDEAS. We invite PhD students and academics from throughout the UK and abroad to analyse current events in the Middle East and add to the ongoing deliberations over policy prescriptions. Our next contributor, Christopher Phillips, explores the reasons Turkey is moving toward greater engagement with its neighbours in the Middle East.

We look forward to exploring both regional and topical issues relating to current events.
Amber Holewinski, Editor, LSE IDEAS Middle East International Affairs Programme Blog

Reengagement is not realignment

By Christopher Phillips

Turkey’s reengagement with the Middle East in recent years has been widely misunderstood. The AKP government’s perceived falling out with long-standing ally Israel, its drawing closer to Syria, Iraq and Iran, and a seemingly less enthusiastic approach to EU accession has led many to conclude that Ankara is shifting Eastwards in its foreign relations priorities. Yet this reorientation should not be over-exaggerated. Far from abandoning old alliances in the West for new friendships in the Muslim world, Turkey is instead settling into a new role as a regional power that was thrust on it after the power vacuum produced by the Iraq war and a decade of economic growth.

To an extent, Turkey’s past disconnection with the Middle East has been exaggerated. Turkey’s longest borders are with Arab states and basic issues such as security and trade have long been discussed between governments. Nevertheless the extent of Ankara’s involvement since 2003 is substantially more than before. Turkey has concluded free-trade and visa-free agreements with Damascus, Baghdad and Tehran, and has invested heavily in each economy. Improved ties with Syria have been particularly fast-paced. President Bashar al-Assad became the first Syrian leader to ever visit Ankara in 2004, after 60 years of relations, yet now trade between the two states has doubled and April 2009 saw the first ever Syria-Turkish joint military exercise.

Parallel to this, Turkey’s older political, economic and military alliance with Israel appears to foundering. Prime Minister Erdogan heavily criticised Tel Aviv’s assault on Gaza in winter 2008-9 and subsequently cancelled joint military exercises. Many see the various diplomatic spats that followed, coupled with the AKP’s Islamist origins, as evidence that the alliance cannot last.

Yet such an analysis is too Middle East focused and ignores the wider changes in Turkey’s foreign policy. Since the Iraq War, the AKP have pursued an increasingly realist foreign policy devised primarily by Foreign Minister Ahmet Davutoglu. He argues for, “zero problems with neighbours,” whatever their past or current misdeeds. This has allowed the regime to put aside its ideological differences and historical disagreements with not just Syria, Iran and Iraq, but also older enemies in Armenia, Greece and Russia. Israel, whilst also a neighbour, had a privileged position in the past and, in effect, Erdogan’s admonishing has simply stripped it back to a place of average importance. Yet there is no chance of the alliance ending completely. Military cooperation in particular is deep and unlikely to end. Moreover, even Turkey’s Arab allies in Syria have voiced their support for a continued Tel Aviv-Ankara alliance, recognizing its ally’s ability to restrain its enemy.

Another reason behind Turkish reengagement south is its desire for new markets. Following an impressive decade of economic growth, Davutoglu advocates increased Turkish ‘strategic depth’ with its neighbours – promoting its cultural, economic and political influence further than in the past. Turkey’s under-developed Middle Eastern neighbours may provide appealing markets, but they will be explored alongside, not instead of the European trade that built Ankara’s strong economy.

Finally, Turkish reengagement is based on military necessity following the collapse of Saddam’s Iraq. Still fighting Kurdish insurgents in its south, Ankara fears instability in the Arab states will provide safe havens for its enemies to rearm and train. This fear was demonstrated in 2007 when Turkey invaded northern Iraq to smoke out Kurdish rebels. A desire to use its economic, political and military clout to co-opt stability in its southern neighbours is therefore driving policy more than any desire to refashion the region around its interests.

Turkey may be reengaging in the Middle East both out of necessity and out of choice, however this does not mean ideological realignment. Far from pursuing an Islam-centric foreign policy, Ankara is displaying the traits of an emerging realist regional power: extending its influence wherever it can, whenever it can.

Christopher Phillips is a PhD student in International Relations at the London School of
Economics and Political Science and Programme Assistant on the IDEAS Middle East International Affairs Programme.

Next Week: Afghanistan: Can the troop surge be effective?