So
those who believe that the removal of Egyptian President Mohamed
Morsi’s government was justified have a point. As the Muslim
Brotherhood’s rule became increasingly authoritarian, it trampled on the
ideals and aspirations of the Tahrir Square revolution that toppled
former President Hosni Mubarak in 2011.
Nonetheless,
the support that the military coup received from many Egyptian liberals
is difficult to fathom. Clever word games cannot hide the essence of
what happened: a government that came to power in a fair election was
overthrown by the army.
Some
believe that military interventions can serve as a useful course
correction. US Secretary of State John Kerry said that the Egyptian army
was “restoring democracy.” And the former US ambassador James Jeffrey
drew on Turkey’s experience, and the 1980 coup in particular, to argue
that the military could help in “moderating Islamist movements.”
The
notion that a politically transcendent impartial arbiter can step in to
prevent abuse of power and reinvigorate democracy is an attractive one.
But it is belied by Turkey’s own history. True, the Turkish military
was not interested in governing directly, and handed power back to
civilian governments after its coups. Even so, its repeated
interventions greatly harmed the development of a democratic political
culture.
Ultimately, democracy relies on an implicit quid pro quo
among contending groups, according to which each agrees to protect the
others’ rights in exchange for recognition of its entitlement to govern
should it win an election. Constitutional provisions alone cannot ensure
such an outcome, for those in power can easily override them. Instead,
norms of proper political behavior must become embodied in the polity’s
enduring institutions – its political parties, parliaments, and courts –
in order to prevent abuse of power.
What
sustains these norms is the knowledge that undermining them will have
consequences that are damaging to all. If I do not protect your rights
while in power today, you will have little reason to respect mine when
you come to power tomorrow.
When
an outside force such as the military interrupts this game, either
directly or because one of the parties can rely on its intervention, the
dynamics of political behavior change irrevocably. The loss of
continuity in political parties, parliamentary procedures, and judicial
processes encourages short-term calculation and spawns illiberal
practices. This is exactly the malady of young democracies.
It
is also the problem that plagues Turkish democracy, despite its longer
track record. When Prime Minister Recep Tayyip Erdoğan’s Justice and
Development Party (AKP) came to power in 2002, it not only lacked a
democratic culture, but also had much to fear about how the
secularist-military old guard might react. So it behaved exactly
according to its fear, launching a series of show trials targeting
senior military officials and other perceived opponents. When Erdoğan’s
government eventually lost the support of liberals who had initially
supported it, it cracked down on the media and freedom of expression.
Given
this backdrop of repression and punctuated democracy, the failure of
Islamists in Egypt and Turkey tells us less about Islam’s compatibility
with democracy than we might think. Did Morsi and Erdoğan behave as they
did because of their religious ideologies, or would most political
leaders seeking to retain power have acted in similar ways in their
position? Latin America, where Islam plays no political role, has no
shortage of populist strongmen who routinely violate civil liberties and
political rights.
None
of this is to condone the abuse of power by Islamist leaders. But, just
as the Turkish military’s repeated interventions against a perceived
Islamist threat have impeded democracy, so the Egyptian military’s
toppling of Morsi will not help to restore it. An entity that is
authoritarian and hierarchical in nature cannot be relied on to protect
and promote a democratic transition. A case can be made for military
intervention when a country finds itself on the edge of civil war, as
Turkey was in 1980 (and as Egypt arguably was in July); but one should
not confuse restoring order with restoring democracy.
While
the battle for democracy must be won or lost at home, outsiders do have
a role to play. International actors such as human-rights organizations
can usefully document and publicize rights violations and other abuses
of power.
Democratic
countries – particularly the United States and members of the European
Union – can denounce authoritarian practices with a clear voice and
resist the temptation of cozying up to regional bullies for short-term
strategic advantage. Given economic globalization and global
communications, autocratic rulers derive almost as much strength from
their international standing as they do from their control of domestic
institutions.
What
does not help – and in fact backfires – is for outsiders to view the
political crisis of Middle Eastern societies as the result of an
Islamist-secularist divide. This perspective plays directly into the
hands of authoritarian rulers like Erdoğan, who can leverage the
perceived Islamophobia of foreign powers to mobilize their political
base. Human-rights abuses and violations of the rule of law should be
denounced for what they are – without linking them to culture or
religion.
