JERUSALEM – Two
things stand out in the Middle East since the Arab
Spring began – one that happened, and one that did not. What happened was that
for the first time in modern Arab history, authoritarian regimes and rulers
were toppled, or seriously challenged, by popular demonstrations, not – as in
the past – through military coups.
Of course, oil money helps to sustain
autocracy, but this is not a factor in Morocco
and Jordan. It
appears that these monarchies enjoy a form of traditional authority that the
region’s secular nationalist rulers never had. Being descendants of the
Prophet, as in Morocco
and Jordan, or
having custodianship of the holy sites of Mecca
and Medina, as in Saudi
Arabia, bestows a legitimacy on the countries’
rulers that is directly linked to Islam.
The only monarchical regime that was
seriously challenged during the Arab Spring was the Sunni ruling family in
Shia-majority Bahrain,
where precisely this sectarian divide seems to have been the crucial ingredient
in the uprising, which was then brutally suppressed with Saudi military help.
Yet, for all of the success epitomized
by the protests in Cairo’s Tahrir Square, bringing down a dictatorship is one
thing – a drama lasting a few weeks – while the transition to a functioning,
consolidated democracy is quite another. Here, a lengthy process is involved,
and its success – exemplified in the post-communist transitions in Eastern
Europe – depends on key preconditions.
Where these conditions exist – for
example, a vibrant and autonomous civil society, as in Poland,
or a strong pre-authoritarian tradition of pluralism, representation, and
tolerance, as in the Czech Republic
– the transition is relatively smooth. Where they are lacking or weak, as in Russia
or Ukraine, the
outcome is much more problematic.
Simply put, a rosy outlook for
countries like Egypt
cannot be assumed on the basis of exhilarating images on CNN or Al Jazeera, or
the fact that masses of young, well-educated, English-speaking men and women
are connected through Facebook and Twitter. The great majority of Egyptians
were not in Tahrir Square,
and many of them lack not only access to online social networks, but also
electricity and safe drinking water. Democracy and free speech are not at the
top of their agenda.
Egypt’s
silent majority also identifies with the authenticity represented by various
Islamic groups, while principles of democracy and civil rights seem to them to
be imported Western abstractions. So the tremendous victory of the Muslim
Brotherhood and the Al-Nour Party in Egypt
– as well as that of Ennahda in Tunisia
– should come as no surprise. A similar scenario could unfold in Syria,
if and when President Bashar al-Assad falls from power, while both post-Qaddafi
Libya and
post-Saleh Yemen
point to the difficulties that these countries face in constructing a coherent
democratic regime.
Looking at Egypt’s
prospects realistically, one should not exclude the possibility that the two
strongest forces in the country – the military and the Muslim Brotherhood –
ultimately will find a way to share power. The Brotherhood’s vision of
democracy is purely majoritarian, not liberal: winning an election, according to
its spokespeople, permits the victor to rule according to his views. Minority
rights, institutional checks on government power, human rights – the liberal
aspects of democracy – are entirely absent.
Another, more fundamental, dimension
to current and future changes in the region may come into view as well. Most
international borders in the Middle East and North Africa were drawn by
imperial powers – Britain, France, and Italy – either after World War I and the
breakup of the Ottoman Empire (the Sykes-Picot agreements), or, as in Libya and
Sudan, earlier. But in no case did these borders correspond with local popular
will, or with ethnic or historical boundaries.
In other words, none of these
countries, except Egypt,
had ever been a discrete political entity. Until recently, their rulers had a
common interest in keeping this Pandora’s Box of borders tightly sealed.
That has changed, and we see the
region’s imperially imposed frontiers being called into question. In Iraq,
the emergence of a de facto Kurdish autonomous region in the north has
put an end to Saddam Hussein’s centralized Arab-controlled state. With South
Sudan’s independence,the rest of Arab-dominated Sudan
could face further division, with Darfur leaving next.
In Libya,
the transitional authorities are finding it extremely challenging to create a
coherent political structure that can unite two very different provinces, Cyrenaica
and Tripolitania, which were held together only by the
Qaddafi regime’s brutality. In Benghazi,
there are already calls for autonomy, if not outright independence.
Similarly, Yemen’s
unity is far from assured. The divisions between its south and north, which had
been two different countries – with totally different histories –until Saleh’s
dictatorship, are resurfacing again.
In a post-Assad Syria,
the ethnic and religious fissures betweenSunnis, Alawites, Druze, Christians,
and Kurdsmight equally threaten the country’s unity. In his brutal way, Assad
may be right that only his iron grip keeps the country together. And
developments in Syria
will undoubtedly have an impact on neighboring Lebanon.
The end of communist autocracies in
the Soviet Union, Yugoslavia,
and even Czechoslovakia
brought about a dramatic wave of state creation. Likewise, no one should be
surprised if democratization in the Arab world, difficult as it might be,
brings in its wake a redrawing of borders. How violent or peaceful this may be
remains to be seen.
Shlomo Avineri, Director-General of Israel's Foreign Ministry in the first
cabinet of Yitzhak Rabin, is Professor of Political Science at Hebrew University.
