Lebanon and Syria seem to share a fatal attraction of the geopolitical kind. Lebanon’s current economic crisis, for example, has driven three-quarters of the population into poverty and seen the Lebanese pound devalued by 90 percent. Eighty-two percent of the population lives in multidimensional poverty, the result of lack of access to social services, such as healthcare and education, in addition to low income. Rampant government corruption under Prime Minister Najib Mikati, who took office in September, is exacerbated by cuts to subsidies on essential goods, such as fuel and medicine. 

Lebanon ranks 149 out of 180 nations in Transparency International’s Corruption Perceptions Index, while Syria ranks 178, above South Sudan and Somalia. 

After a decade of ongoing conflict in Syria, a record-breaking 60 percent, or 12.4 million, of the Syrian population experiences food insecurity. The United Nations underscores the impact of the financial crisis in neighboring Lebanon, the declining value of the Syrian pound, and the long-term effects of COVID-19 as contributors to Syria’s most recent economic crisis which began in tandem with Lebanon’s in October 2019.

Syria in Lebanon

Founding Dean of the School of Global Affairs and Public Policy Nabil Fahmy spoke with panelists in the latest installation of the Tahrir Dialogue webinar series, “Syrian and Lebanese Crises in a Mirror,” about the convergence of the two crises. 

Generally, Syria’s role in Lebanon today is much weaker than during the Syrian government’s presence in the country from 1976 to 2005. Their bilateral relationship, however, is political rather than economic as no trade project was built during this time period, Samir Aita, a Syrian academic and president of the Circle of Arab Economists emphasized. Additionally, Lebanon has witnessed an influx of an estimated 1.5 million Syrian refugees since 2011.

Lebanon in Syria

Syria has always been considered a domestic political issue in Lebanon for historical, sociological, political, and economic reasons, Nassif Hitti, former Lebanese Minister of Foreign Affairs and Emigrants, said. Their mutually dependent economies are linked through entrenched networks of patronage and corruption reliant on informal business connections and family ties. Furthermore, the 1989 Taif Agreement, which ended the fifteen-year Lebanese civil war but instigated conflict between Sunnis and Shiites in the country, appointed Syria as Lebanon’s official powerbroker. 

After the withdrawal of Syrian forces in 2005 and the assassination of Lebanese Prime Minister Rafik Hariri, Sunni-Shiite relations within Lebanon worsened, and further deteriorated after the outbreak of the Syrian civil war in 2011. Thus, “for many [in Lebanon], Syria is an enemy today, was a friend yesterday. And Syria as a friend yesterday was an enemy the day before yesterday,” he said.

Mirror Image

Though both Syria and Lebanon have chosen different trajectories, Aita said, “their bonds remain deep despite the different perspectives and different crises they went through.” Laying out three areas of overlap, Aita highlighted similarities in economic crises, politics, and foreign interventions into both countries. Economically, the exchange rate in Lebanon has plunged, leading to ramifications on the Syrian currency—and not for the first time. The 2020 U.S. Caesar Act sanctions, which targeted external supporters of the Syrian regime, also led to a drop in oil prices and a subsequent dip in the exchange rate of both the Syrian and Lebanese currencies.

While there is less political mirroring, both countries suffer from a divide-to-rule strategy implemented by political authorities, Aita summarized. “They are fragmenting the countries’ forces to a great extent in order to be able to rule,” he said, resulting in an imbalance between the capital and the rest of the country. For example, major geographical disparities exist in housing construction completed during the conflict, Aita wrote in 2019. Furthermore, an inability to criticize the government “is negatively impacting both countries on all levels”. Manipulation of the law, and a parallel inability to address corruption through reforms, continues to spell disaster for a better future.

Both geostrategic countries suffer deep interventions from other states, and their futures hinge on how conflicts between these powers play out. On Lebanon, Hitti said: “We’re the country that’s the least influential in the region in terms of power politics, and the most influenced in the region. We’re extremely vulnerable, and we invite all forms of intervention.” Punctuating his point, he joked: “The Lebanese state is the most neutral state in the world, it doesn’t even interfere in its own domestic affairs.” He argued Lebanon serves as a “mailbox”—an arena for sending war messages by proxy. The country has long hosted microcosms of regional conflicts, including between Iran and Saudi Arabia, Iranian-backed Hezbollah and Israel, and spillover of the Syrian civil war, to name a few.

On Syria, he said, “Actors do change but the kind of attractiveness—fatalistic attractiveness—of Syria’s geopolitical location remains the same.” Throughout its long history as a borderland, Syria has often been dissected by its neighbors, remaining internally fragmented and geographically vulnerable. The Syrian conflict, which began as a domestic rebuke of corruption and brutality, was transformed into a theater for regional and international power struggles, notably the “cold war” between Riyadh and Tehran.

The countries, of course, are not identical. Ramzy Ezzeldin Ramzy, former Assistant Secretary-General of the United Nations and Deputy Envoy for Syria, noted the difference between Syria’s centralized political system and Lebanon’s multifaceted society with a historically weak government. Though after ten years of war, the Syrian state is also weak, Aita added. Moreover, while Lebanon’s melange of sectarian identities is well known, “Syria is also a mosaic but no one talks about it,” he noted. “I always make the joke: somebody from Homs would never marry someone from Hama, and the towns are 43 [kilometers] away.”

A Balancing Act

Lebanon suffers from “a sort of political fatalism” which requires the country to rely on its foreign allies to gain traction in the “emerging regional configuration of power,” Hitti argued. “So there’s always this look outside,” he said. “On the Syrian chessboard, we see different alliances and different points of confrontation,” he continued. Four broad networks operate within the country: pro-government forces, opposition forces, the Islamic State, and the Kurdish People’s Defense Units. As of writing, the northwestern Idlib province is controlled by opposition forces, while the remainder of the country is under the control of President Bashar Al-Assad and government forces.

Amid the possibility of regional realignment, the solution in Syria and Lebanon requires myriad agreements on national, regional, and global levels. While there is a need for action on the part of superpowers, namely the United States, Russia, and China, Arab countries must play the major role, particularly those directly affected, such as Egypt, Jordan, and Iraq, Aita said. “There is a dis-arabization of any attempt at playing a role to move Syria into the Arab fold and to help Syria in getting out of the situation as well as Lebanon,” Hitti added. Fahmy agreed. “Unless Arabs re-engage on their issues, they will only have themselves to blame…because the regional players, or the global ones, are not taking them seriously,” he said.

This Arab role must not only be present, but energized. “Without an Arab role, I find it very difficult for the non-Arab regional powers, or for the United States and Russia, to give enough interest and enough will to find a settlement,” Ramzy said. Current international efforts to reach an agreement in Syria, now stalled, revolve around UN Resolution 2254 which provides a roadmap to a political settlement. All panelists agreed that there must be an understanding among the external powers involved in both countries, as exampled in the trilateral Astana process between Iran, Russia, and Turkey.

Looking Forward

The third and thirty-fourth ranked most fragile states in the world are spiraling in parallel. Both countries need a new social contract to reformulate, or rephrase, the relationship between the ruling power and the people, Aita argued. Secondly, they both need to undergo an all-encompassing reconstruction process that tackles the economic, financial, and political crises at hand. “Lebanon’s financial monetary crisis is a reflection of an economic crisis—a model that’s not functioning as it should function—which is in turn a reflection of a deep political crisis. We need to revisit the whole system,” Hitti said.

Is Syria the solution key?

There was debate over whether Syria could serve as a “key” to regional dialogue or if it will have to wait until other regional conflicts are resolved. “The importance of Syria—it remains in the heart of the conflict of the region because of its geostrategic location, for the nth time,” Hitti said, but it does not have to wait until other conflicts in the region are settled to begin reforms. He argued for an external compromise modeled after the Taif Agreement aimed at establishing an understanding among intervening forces. This could unlock dialogue between a wider, more inclusive group of power holders in Syria, and not only non-Arab forces, Hitti finished. “I think that the major role has to be taken by the Arab countries that are the most interested in the solution in Syria and Lebanon, which are precisely Egypt, Jordan, and Iraq, supported by other Arab countries who wanted to play the role to support this,” Aita argued. That way, a systemic approach to Syria can make progress on a solution to the Lebanese crisis and the rest of the region.

Looking ahead, overtures to Syria, exemplified by a recent visit from the United Arab Emirates’ top diplomat, could spark rapprochement between the country and other Arab nations. In Lebanon, upcoming elections are scheduled for March 2022, although they are unlikely to “make the expected change,” Hitti said. Above all, there is danger of complete collapse in both countries, Aita stressed. “In the long-run, things could only get worse, both in Syria and Lebanon.”

Public International Law (PIL), specifically the kind that attempts to make ethical standards for states to follow in both their domestic and foreign policies, is widely understood as difficult territory. While many laws are observed by states the world over–such as those governing maritime trade, borders, and financial agreements–many are not enforced, nor even agreed upon by the legal community. These include especially humanitarian and human rights laws. 

The defense often given, when unenforceability comes up, is that at minimum PIL provides a framework for what states should do, and gives credibility to efforts that sanction or marginalize states who don’t comply with ethical international norms. Sometimes these laws make headway, particularly when they serve the interests of big power players. But often they do not. So often in fact, that AUC Law Professor Jason Beckett is building a theory of why international law, perhaps uniquely as a field, is under so little pressure to do better. 

In a November webinar titled “The Fragmentation of International Lawyers,” Beckett presented the case for why international law is fraught with foundational problems it cannot seem to solve. Foremost among these is why so many claims made in the name of ethical international law have yielded so little justice in the world. “We do not live in a tolerably just world,” Beckett began. “We live in a world where 70 percent of the global population lives on less than ten dollars a day, while 15 percent of the world consumes 85 percent of its resources”.

In a global order where laws made to protect human rights seem impossible to enforce, Beckett sees a system shaping the community of people who practice PIL, a system thoroughly invested in keeping most of the world in a state of poverty and repression. Within that system, he locates an observable, ongoing fragmentation of lawyers into insular groups, where their work is increasingly siloed. What follows is a summary of his lecture, where Beckett described this state of fragmentation, before grounding it within his larger theory.

This talk was critiqued by Geoff Gordon, Senior Researcher at the T.M.C. Asser Institute Centre for International and European Law, in a discussion moderated by Nora Salem, Head of the Public International Law Department at the German University in Cairo.     

The Fragmentation of International Lawyers

What does it mean to say that international lawyers are fragmented? Beckett makes several observations. First, lawyers working in the realm of PIL are divided by specialty (human rights, humanitarian, environmental, trade, etc.), methodology, and the texts and traditions they learn from in their training. They form groups along these lines, and within these groups new laws and legal opinions proliferate. “There is too much law,” Beckett says, because there is no overarching legal body in the international system to adjudicate which legal arguments are valid, or enforce those decisions. Thus, all arguments are equally valid, and for him, equally unnecessary.

Second, he argues that as a result of this “radical indeterminacy” of law, the only place that international lawyers can utilize their training, or engage in a process with internal legitimacy, is within these communities, where they regard the same texts and methods as starting points. Beckett calls these “communities of practice” and argues that given the systemic restraints, the work they engage in is basically just producing legal discourse. Its real-world impact is exceedingly limited. Lawyers in the field are pressured to accept this at the outset of their careers, and have oriented themselves toward doing “law” for an audience of their peers. 

This, Beckett says, is an enormous problem, not only because these veins of international law produce so few effects, but also because they distract from the realities of global injustice, and in distracting, so contribute.

To explain how we got here, Beckett points to the history of international law, and how it evolved primarily as a tool to govern and justify colonization. At the beginning of the colonial period, around 1550, Spain created laws to manage its extraction of resources in the Americas, and relations with Indigenous groups. Other European countries followed suit, and our first framework for modern international law was born. With the end of formal colonialism in the 1950s, international law underwent a conceptual split into two forms: ethical and material (or what Beckett calls “actualized” law). Ethical law—which evolved first to justify colonial abuses—now attempts to right the wrongs of colonialism and make the world a just place for all. Material law is what is actually enforced and acted upon by states and institutions. For Beckett (and other observers), however, it merely perpetuates the colonial project under a new guise.

How Neoliberal Institutions Perpetuate the Neocolonial Project

How does material law perpetuate the Global North’s ongoing and abusive extraction of resources from the Global South (to the tune of $5.5 trillion per year)? Primarily through institutions that promote neoliberal agendas, like the World Bank and International Monetary Fund (IMF). By creating and holding developing countries to legal arrangements that make them enact neoliberal policies (cutting subsidies, for example), these institutions accomplish two things. One, they allow the continued extraction of resources from these countries. Two, they entrench conditions of immiseration in their populations, leading to poverty and unrest. When states then act to repress their society’s protests, ethical international lawyers condemn them. “We focus on how PIL fails to rescue people from harm, but not on its role in putting those people [in unsafe conditions] in the first place,” Beckett says. In this way, ethical international law clouds the debate, shifting focus away from the root causes of neocolonial injustice.

He draws on legal scholar Susan Marks’ concept of the “false contingency” to illustrate how this distraction process works. In a July article for Critical Legal Thinking, Beckett writes “A contingency is a possibility, something that may or may not happen. It remains contingent until it is either realised or precluded. A false contingency is an apparent possibility that is already precluded by systemic factors. Most claims made in the name of ethical PIL are false contingencies. They demand progressive changes that are, in a sense, possibilities—people could for example have access to food, water, shelter, and healthcare—but they cannot currently be realised. Presenting them as fundamental rights does not alter the fact that they are denied to many. It also evades the question of why people are denied access to food and water, shelter and healthcare.”

Questions and Critique

While Beckett draws on the observations of numerous scholars engaged in critiquing international law, his overall conception of how these pieces fit together into a self-perpetuating cycle is novel. When asked what he would like to see change, Beckett said that international lawyers should start by asking themselves why they’re doing what they’re doing? Why is it common practice to brush past the impotency of the laws and legal opinions they generate?

This was met with general agreement from Gordon and the audience. Gordon pressed Beckett to identify the nodes in this system he describes, where international lawyers could begin to take the fight. Other attendees asked him to look more seriously at what countries in the developing world could be doing to push back, and Beckett acknowledged that he might be missing sources of agency and change that exist in those societies.

Finally, Beckett said that international lawyers should engage deeply with the critique of neoliberalism that is gaining steam in other fields, although he doubts that the radical changes needed are likely to start or end with the legal community. “What is needed are more progressive people, willing to do the hard, granular work, getting back into institutions like the IMF and World Bank.” And the biggest constraint? Redistributing the planet’s resources to meet the needs of all people will require the West cutting back on its own consumption—way back. In this, as in international law, the first step will be getting comfortable with the hard truths.  

The Middle East and North Africa (MENA) will be the most severely affected by climate change. A report by the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change forecasts that this region will inevitably experience shorter and warmer winters, hotter and drier summers, and more extreme weather events. Combined, these changes will decrease domestic water resources. In a region already plagued by severe freshwater shortages, any decrease or variability in supplies is likely to intensify an escalating water crisis. Consequently, the region is considered one of the most vulnerable places in the world to the impact of climate change on domestic water resources.

The MENA region is also the world’s driest region. While it contains less than 2 percent of global renewable freshwater resources, it is home to around 6 percent of the world’s population. Twelve of the world’s most water-scarce states are located here, including Algeria, Bahrain, Kuwait, Jordan, Libya, Oman, the Palestinian Territories, Saudi Arabia, Tunisia, the United Arab Emirates (UAE), and Yemen.  

With the exception of Iraq, Lebanon, Syria, and Oman, water availability in the region is well below 1,000 cubic meters per person per year, which is much less than the qualifying threshold for individual water security. In terms of consumption of water, there is great variance; the Arab Gulf countries use more water per capita than the global average, while the poorer states, such as Jordan and Yemen, have some of the lowest consumption rates in the world.  

Due to its impact on water resources, climate change will challenge the capacity of states across the MENA region to meet their domestic water and food security needs. As a result, domestic and regional tensions will surface, worsened by social and economic losses across the region. These will weaken the ability of the region’s states to respond to these challenges and effectively adapt to climate change, including managing their water resources. Not to mention the hard fact that the region has already surpassed most predictions and thresholds surrounding the impact of climate change. 

Climatic Change Predictions Have Already Come to Pass 

Climate change predictions indicate that temperatures in the region will increase between 3 to 6°C from 2070 to 2100, depending on greenhouse gas emission rates. What is worrying is that analysis of the region’s temperatures indicates that this warming trend has already begun. From 1961 until 1990, the region experienced a 0.6°C increase in its temperatures, and is now warming at an even faster rate. Other research has revealed an increase in the number of warm days, a decrease in the number of cold days, and an increase in overall temperatures from 1950 to 2003. This warming trend, in an already hot and arid environment, will have a negative impact on human health, tourism, farming, water supplies, and ultimately, the regional economy.

Decreased Rainfall

Climate change models also suggest that the majority of the MENA countries will experience a decrease in the precipitation rates anywhere between 10 and 40 percent from 2070 and 2100; the evaporation rate is set to increase from 47 percent to 54 percent. The only exception from this trend is Yemen and Oman, which models indicate could become wetter. The World Bank predicts that the majority of the MENA region will experience a 20 percent reduction in its annual rainfall coupled with higher evaporation. Seasonally, the precipitation rate is expected to increase in the autumn season and decrease in the spring. The potential decrease in precipitation during the spring season is expected to harm rain-fed agriculture, while increased rainfall during the autumn harvesting season can challenge crop yield. This change in precipitation and the negative impact on crop yield and agricultural productivity can endanger the region’s food security. Due to the decrease in crop yield, states such as Egypt and Sudan will be challenged to meet the individual and national food security needs of rural areas dependent on rain-fed agriculture.   

According to the World Bank, precipitation data across the region revealed that much of the aforementioned trend has already started. In Jordan, for example, the past forty-five years have exhibited a decrease in annual precipitation between 5 and 20 percent, a decrease in the number of rainy days, and warming. When comparing rain patterns in the 2000s with the 1960s, data revealed a 23 percent reduction in precipitation in Iraq, 15 percent in Lebanon, and 16 percent in Syria. The intra-seasonal variability in precipitation patterns appears to have already occurred across several states in the region.  

Extreme weather conditions 

Climate change predictions also anticipate an increase in the occurrence of extreme weather events, such as flash floods and droughts, in the Middle East. Flash floods represent a significant challenge for the management of regional water sources—one whose hydrological infrastructure was designed and constructed for an arid environment and is not well adapted for flash or regular flooding. An increase in flash flooding is expected to challenge states’ capacities to fill reservoirs and may even jeopardize the integrity of the reservoirs themselves.  

According to several climate change models, sea levels in the Mediterranean Sea and the Persian Gulf are also expected to rise between 0.1 to 0.9 millimeters per year by 2100 because of climate change. Research indicates that since the 1990s, there has been sea level rise, beginning gradually and now more rapidly. One of the many impacts of a rise in sea level is saltwater intrusion into coastal aquifers, which can contaminate and diminish their utility. 

Throughout the region, droughts and floods have already plagued states in recent decades. Droughts challenge the capacity of states to meet their domestic demand for water, and inflict substantial economic losses, especially on rain-fed agriculture in Syria, Jordan, and Iraq. Such droughts are not only occurring more often across the region, but have also lasted longer than in the past. Water resource management is challenged during protracted droughts and the resulting collapse of the agricultural sector has contributed to waves of migration from rural to urban centers. These trends were particularly pronounced in Syria prior to its civil war—which led some to argue that the combined impact of the prolonged drought on the agricultural sector and the government’s failure to respond effectively was a contributing factor to the country’s subsequent unrest.

Water Demand, Crop Failure, and Conflict

Climate change is expected to reduce the available renewable surface and groundwater resources across the region. While the exact quantity of decrease varies depending on unfolding climate scenarios, studies do indicate that the decrease in water availability could be greater than 15 percent if the region’s temperature increases by 2o C, and a staggering 45 percent if the temperature increases by 4o C. Given the anticipated impact of climate change on water resources, studies have indicated that the available water for irrigation in the Middle East will decline between 13 to 28 percent, and in North Africa it could decline between 9 to 25 percent by 2050. The expected increase in droughts and floods is likely to compound the decrease in water supply available for the municipal and agricultural sectors in the region.

Agriculture is an important source of national and individual food security along with income for farmers in the Nile, Euphrates and Tigris Basins, and the Mediterranean Coast. However, approximately 70 percent of the region’s agriculture is rain-fed, making this sector highly vulnerable to climate change. The decreased precipitation and increased evaporation expected from climate change will decrease soil moisture, which is likely to heighten the vulnerability and unpredictability of agricultural productivity. Variability in the timing and intensity of precipitation in Jordan has already had a negative impact on farmers, and heavy rains are contributing to crop failures. Climate change models show that the region will experience significant reduction in crop yields, especially major grains, in the future. A 1.5 to 2°C warming can result in a 30 percent decline in crop yields in Jordan, Egypt, and Libya, and a 3 to 4°C warming may lead to a 60 percent decline in wheat production in Syria.  

Crop failure contributes to significant direct and indirect losses because it challenges a state’s ability to meet domestic food security needs, alongside directly impacting rural livelihoods and individual food security. According to the World Bank, climate change’s impact on reducing water resources and the agricultural sector’s production has the potential to reduce gross domestic product (GDP). Iran, for example, may experience a reduction of 7.2 percent in GDP, while Jordan may experience a 6.8 percent reduction.

Additionally, with few exceptions, states across the region confront some of the highest population growth rates. Bahrain’s population growth rate is 3.68 percent, the second-highest population growth rate in the world. Annually, Syria and Iraq’s populations grow at 2.52 and 2.32 percent respectively. By 2050, the region’s population is expected to double, placing increased pressures on its domestic water resources and food security.

Other resources that may be affected by climate change are transboundary water systems, such as rivers, aquifers, or lakes shared by two or more countries. About 60 percent of the MENA’s water supply flows through transboundary rivers that cross the border of one or more nations, such as the Euphrates and Tigris, Nile, and Jordan Rivers. These rivers are critical sources of water for many states in the region. Over 96 percent of Egypt’s and Bahrain’s water resources originate outside of their borders, while 72 percent of Syria’s and 60 percent of Iraq’s water comes from neighboring states. This represents the highest percentage of dependence on transboundary freshwater resources in the world. Climate change models expect a decrease in the runoff of the transboundary rivers in the area. A 4°C warming is likely to result in a decrease between 25 percent to 55 percent in the Euphrates and Tigris Rivers’ runoff, while the daily runoff of the Jordan River is expected to decrease by 17 percent.  

A decrease in the runoff of transboundary water resources has the potential to increase tension between riparian states. For basins with agreements governing the use of shared water resources, climate change can impact the ability of riparian states to continue to comply with existing treaties, protocols, or agreements. Tension is also likely to arise in areas not governed by agreements. A decrease in the region’s water supply can mean that upstream states increase their consumption of transboundary water resources, thus decreasing the supply available to midstream and downstream nations, leading to regional tension. For example, as Ethiopia continues to increase its consumption of the Nile River, Egypt’s ability to meet its domestic water needs will be challenged, in turn contributing to political strain between the riparian states. Historically, Syria and Iraq have suffered water shortages as Turkey increased its use and control of the Euphrates River, which has led to periodic tension between the states.  

Managing Water Resources in the Middle East

In general, states across the MENA region have not embraced more efficient management of existing water supplies. Instead, they have opted to invest in constructing hydrological infrastructure, such as dams and desalination plants, to augment existing supplies. This hydrological infrastructure is not only expensive compared with using existing supplies of water, but is not a viable long-term solution and therefore an inefficient means to meet their ever-growing water demand.  Construction of hydrological infrastructure results in extensive negative ecological consequences on the region’s environment, such as emissions of greenhouse gases and the need to discharge large quantities of brine from desalination plants into either the sea or the desert. Construction of dams is expensive and environmentally unsustainable as they have a limited life span and often have significant negative environmental impact on the ecosystem.  While the cost of water desalination is decreasing, energy-poor states, such as Syria, Egypt, and Jordan, must incur the added high energy costs, expensive capital investment, and the transportation cost for delivering treated water in pipes from the sea coast to inland cities to meet their growing demand. Depending on the water’s salinity level and type of technology used, desalinization alone can cost anywhere between $0.60 to $2.86 per cubic meter, which will certainly have to be subsidized since many of the region’s consumers cannot afford to pay the full price. 

Increasing efficient use of domestic water resources is an economically cheaper option for the MENA’s energy-poor states and a more environmentally sustainable solution to meet growing water demand.  But embracing more efficient demand management policies could mean making and enforcing politically sensitive policies for many leaders across the region. Examples of these policies include cutting water subsidies and limiting the quantity of water used in irrigation.

 Increasing the cost of irrigation water by cutting subsidies or limiting the quantity of water used for the agricultural sector, which consumes anywhere between 65 to 85 percent of the region’s domestic water budget, is an economically sound method of saving water in the region. Due to the nature of the social contract between the state and society, many countries find it politically costly to cut subsidies on water for fear of upsetting powerful constituents and contributing to popular protests, such as those which occurred during the 2010–11 Arab uprisings. In another example, attempts by the Jordanian monarchy to cut subsidies immediately resulted in popular protests by powerful tribes in 1989, 1996, and 2010. Consequently, governments across the MENA tend to avoid increasing the cost of water for the agricultural and municipal sectors. 

Moreover, some nations such as Jordan, Saudi Arabia, Syria, and Egypt have overexploited their renewable and nonrenewable surface and groundwater by over-extracting these resources beyond their safe range.  In fifty years, the UAE is expected to deplete all its natural freshwater resources due to its over-extraction of water. Two states in particular, Jordan and Syria, have over-pumped and over-exploited their domestic water resources beyond sustainable capacity and are confronting a significant water crisis. The Amman-Zarqa and Azraq aquifers in Jordan are mined by 176 percent and 215 percent beyond their safe yield.  Economically wealthier energy-rich countries, such as the Gulf states and Saudi Arabia, have relied on extensive desalination to meet domestic water needs, but their water subsidies present a significant financial burden on domestic budgets. 

Yet, due to the impending impacts of climate change, effective management of domestic water resources across the region is a necessity and, according to the World Bank, is expected to require more effort and adjustment leaps for the MENA than any other region in the world. 

Without building their adaptive capacities to manage the impending impact of climate change on the region’s water resources, many states across the region are expected to confront challenges in securing access to sufficient water to meet their domestic water and food security needs. As a result, these states will face direct and indirect losses along with an increased potential for domestic and regional tension over access to water resources. 

Currently, there is great variability in the MENA’s adaptive capacity and vulnerability to climate change because of the economic diversity within the region between the Arab Gulf states, the poorer conflict-torn states, such as Yemen, Iraq, and Syria, and other states, such as Jordan and Egypt. 

In building their adaptive capacity, states need to build better institutions to govern domestic and transboundary water resources, increase water prices for high-consuming elites, and increase the efficiency in irrigation water use. Historically, regional institutions for governing transboundary rivers tended to be weak and lacked the capacity to address the tensions between riparian states.  The region’s river basin commissions need to be empowered with conflict-resolution mechanisms that can help guide states to address disputes over transboundary water resources as they arise. One such example that requires revival are strengthened conflict-resolution mechanisms such as the Joint Technical Committee established between Turkey, Syria, and Iraq, which covered the Euphrates and Tigris basin and met regularly from 1983 until 1993. This commission is very weak and lacks the capacity to address the riparian states’ water disputes. There has already been political wrangling over water supply between the three countries.

Adapting to Climate Change in the Water Sector 

Oftentimes, wealthy elites are the ones benefiting from cheap water pricing along with foreign nationals and expats. Governments across the region can use persuasion to renegotiate their social contract with elites and increase the price of water for the wealthy along with foreign nationals.  

Irrigated agriculture is the predominant consumer of the MENA’s water resources, taking up in Iran 92 percent, in Iraq 79 percent, and in Syria 88 percent, of the domestic water resources. However, the level of agricultural productivity in the region is very low, and its share in the states’ GDP is equally low. Despite this minor contribution, agriculture is still an important source of employment in many MENA countries, especially in urban areas. Directly diverting water from the agricultural sector to the municipal sector is not a viable solution. Since many poor farmers are heavily dependent on cheap water, a direct diversion of water can challenge their livelihoods and contribute to unemployment and food insecurity.  However, water-saving techniques can help improve irrigation water use. For instance, making improvements in irrigation techniques such growing less water-intensive crops, using treated wastewater, and other agricultural management practices can help to conserve water in the agricultural sector and help  states build adaptive capacity to minimize the impact of climate change.  

In the meantime, conflict-torn countries, such as Yemen, Syria, Libya, and Iraq, lack the effective institutional capacity to adapt to climate change, which can leave their populations vulnerable. Once these states enter the post-conflict reconstruction process, the donor community needs to take into consideration the need to build adaptive capacity in the water sector and guid these states through the construction of effective, resilient, and strong water management institutions. 

In general, climate change models and recent hydrological trends point to a hotter and drier MENA region in the near future.  States, such as Jordan, Egypt, and Iraq, which are already confronting a significant water crisis, are set to experience increasing aridity and further decreases in their water supplies. Given these impending effects, it can’t be stated enough that states must sooner than later begin to build adaptive capacities to minimize the social, economic, and political losses they will likely confront.

Across the region, states need to consider negotiating with farmers to improve their irrigation techniques by embracing water-saving technologies. Domestic overconsumption of scarce water needs to be addressed for the region to assure its future national and individual water security. And finally, regional transboundary institutions need to be strengthened to address increasing tensions between riparian states in order to maintain peace and security.  

   

In a crisis, some always lose out more than others, and in the case of the COVID-19 pandemic, existing inequalities are widening. Women are disproportionately affected by the social and economic burden of the pandemic. Some 17.4 percent of the world population live in Africa, yet less than 3 percent of COVID-19 vaccine doses have been administered on the continent. As of September, schools have remained fully or partially closed in 27 percent of countries worldwide, leading to, in some cases, increased exposure to abuse and violence, drop outs, and child labor and marriage.

To successfully build resilience to these crises, rigorous data is critical to generate valuable information for real-time decision-making. Currently, however, the state of descriptive data is dismal; for example, only 46 percent of countries tracked by The Sex, Gender, and COVID-19 Project reported sex-disaggregated data for cases and/or deaths in the month of October.

Data was the buzzword of the Abdul Latif Jameel Poverty Action Lab Middle East and North Africa (J-PAL MENA) “Towards an Evidence-informed Development Agenda for Egypt” seminar. Held in partnership with UNICEF Egypt, the roundtable and panel collectively aimed to highlight policy priorities and knowledge gaps in Egypt where evidence can help strengthen the decision-making process. A part of the Egypt Spotlight Seminar Series, established in 2019, the dialogue aims to promote the use of evidence to design and implement effective solutions in the areas of social protection, gender, youth unemployment, education, health, and climate change. The discussion featured representatives from government ministries, non-governmental organizations (NGOs), and academica, all at the forefront of setting and implementing development policy in Egypt.

Prove It: Evidence-based Policymaking 

Evidence-based policymaking—a three-step process involving conducting research, policy outreach activities, and capacity building—aims to set, and then achieve, government policy priorities. As times evolve rapidly, evidence, and the policy it informs, must develop alongside it, Jeremy Hopkins, UNICEF representative in Egypt, noted.

This evidence comes in the form of data—and lots of it. “If you ask me as an economist, what is the thing that I love and adore and hope we have more of, it’s data. It’s the basic, principle tool that we operate with,” Dr. Samer Atallah, Associate Dean of the AUC School of Business, said.

Minister of Social Solidarity, H.E. Dr. Nevine El-Kabbag, holds evidence-based policymaking “close to her heart”. The Ministry of Social Solidarity incorporates evidence into many aspects of policy making, from agenda setting to formulation to implementation, she said. There is a special emphasis on impact evaluation “to measure exactly the real changes that happen in the lives of people.” One such evaluation has already been conducted on the national food program. 

Amid the COVID-19 pandemic, which has widened existing inequalities, comprehensive data collection and use has never been more important. Good data is disaggregated, useful, and accessible. Dr. El-Kabbag suggested a unique development strategy on data and statistics for Egypt, with an emphasis on disaggregation.

Disaggregated data groups raw data into explanatory categories based on identifying characteristics, such as gender, income, geographical location, and age. Successful disaggregation of data exposes hidden trends and enables the identification of at-risk groups, improving their visibility in the eyes of policymakers. Data disaggregation by sex, age, ethnicity and race, disability, and wealth is vital to understanding the differential impacts of shocks, like a pandemic.

Use It or Lose It

To be useful, data must be focused, cost-effective, and at the heart of policy needs. 

At the Heart of Policy Needs

The key to determining what kind of data is needed and the corresponding methodology is partnerships, said keynote speaker Rema Hanna, Jeffrey Cheah Professor of Southeast Asia Studies at Harvard University. To pinpoint research priorities, studies need to be responsive to what governments need; this is why close collaboration is important “in order to optimally use the pieces of research that are produced to reach the policymakers, as much as to achieve the results expected,” Dr. El-Kabbag emphasized.

“It is very key that these partnerships are done with governments. If you want to do things at scale, governments are covering entire countries; governments have the resources and the power to run these kinds of programs,” Hanna added.

Focused

Once priorities are established, collaborators can decide between two types of evaluations: a new evaluation specific to a given context, program, or policy or one which draws knowledge from existing evidence. Hanna emphasized the ability of focused research, as a product of partnership, in producing optimal policy. “It shows the power of doing research to understand what can work and what cannot,” she said. Evaluations—often in the form of randomized control trials—can mark the difference between “parachute” project visualization and the reality on the ground, providing policymakers with a broader set of policy tools that are more effective at reaching people in need. 

Cost-effective

However, programmers and policymakers often do not regard research as a priority; it’s a luxury, noted Nahla Abdel-Tawab, director of the Population Council’s Egypt office, adding that a randomized control trial can often cost over $1 million. Policymakers will skip research in favor of immediate implementation, requiring each approved evaluation to be as cost-effective as possible. Researchers also have a responsibility to develop rapid evaluation procedures, as policymakers often cannot wait for extensive research, especially when responding to shocks, Abdel-Tawab added.

Applying data to as many projects as possible can increase cost-effectiveness, Praveen Agrawal, Country Director Egypt at the World Food Programme, added. “One element, when we’re collecting data, is not to lose sight of the interdependence of data…we’re looking at the interdependence and the coherence of the data that’s being collected so that it can serve multiple purposes and address and build the linkages that are required,” he said.

Good data, however, is always useful. “If we’re looking at human capital development, then we’re looking at an investment, and that’s not short-term. That’s long-term,” Agrawal argued.

Logging In: Data Accessibility

Numerous factors determine data accessibility, namely: the digital divide, stakeholder participation, and the research environment.

Conquering the Divide

The digital divide separates the internet haves from the have nots, occurring when individuals suffer a lack of access to high-speed internet and/or access to reliable devices. According to the United Nations, 3.7 billion people—a majority of them women in developing countries—are still offline. Egypt’s data needs to be faster and more agile so more people can work with it, Agrawal argued. “[Digitalization] needs to have a user at the end of the day,” he added. It is critical that we ensure we are not leaving the poorest behind in the digital divide, Hopkins emphasized. Digitization might also offer a potential opportunity to change the nature of work for women in Egypt, Atallah added.

Stakeholder participation

A divide also emerges between the well-educated youth and older generations. “We need to bridge the gap also between us and them,” Dr. El-Kabbag stated. With Egypt on the verge of a demographic dividend—when a country’s working age population outpaces the non-working population, driving substantial economic growth—Hopkins also noted the importance of youth engagement, especially on climate change.

Stakeholders must be included in data collection to ensure accurate results. “Electronic data is not enough, we need to have some sort of field evidence, so I think collaboration between the electronic and the field and cross-checking, including communities with us in cross-checking the data is very important,” Dr. El-Kabbag added.

Research Environment

While research environments are multifaceted and can be unpredictable, freedom, transparency, and timeliness should take precedence.

Freedom of research is critical to effective policy outcomes. Egypt faces a lack of expertise when working with impact evaluations, Reham Rizk, the head of the Modeling and Forecasting unit at the Ministry of Planning and Economic Development stated. However, a representative from Save the Children International argued that the challenge was not a lack of expertise but a lack of an enabling environment in which to conduct research. Unimpeded research is also, by necessity, transparent and timely.

At Home and Abroad

At a “vital moment” for revisualizing social protection in Egypt, rigorous data is essential in implementing effective policy and measuring the success of policy already underway. “Egypt still has a lot to learn from other countries,” Hanna said. However, the country has a wealth of knowledge to share to help other countries design their own programs, she added. Sharing this knowledge, in the pursuit of more comprehensive data, is the first step to better policy.

With 98 months to halve global emissions by 2030, COP26, the world’s “last best hope” was—at best—disappointing.

The Cairo Review’s assistant editor, Ariana Bennett, spoke with journalist Dahr Jamail about the outcome of COP26, the death trap of fossil-fuel capitalism, and the uncertain future of our planet. Jamail has covered the climate crisis for Truthout and is the author of the book The End of Ice: Bearing Witness and Finding Meaning in the Path of Climate Disruption.

The 26th UN Climate Change Conference produced an outcome document that Jamail deemed a failure. While the outcome text made an unprecedented reference to the role of fossil fuels in global warming, progress was clouded by a last-minute change to phase “down” instead of phasing “out” coal, the largest source of carbon dioxide emissions, due to pressure from India and China. 

Given the agreements included in the Glasgow Climate Pact, experts estimate warming will reach 1.8 to 2.4 degrees Celsius by 2100. Limiting warming to 1.5 degrees Celsius is a pipe dream, Jamail said. To remain in compliance with this target set by the 2015 Paris Agreement, the world needs to wean itself off fossil fuels and the resultant dependent economy. The world needs to reduce emissions by 45 percent to reach carbon neutrality by 2050. However, emissions are expected to rise 14 percent in the next nine years.

Parties will reconvene before the end of 2022 at COP27, set to be held in Sharm El-Sheikh, Egypt, to revisit their Paris Agreement commitments.

Cairo Review: Are these Conferences of the Parties (COPs) generally effective?

Dahr Jamail: “In general, I would say definitely not, as far as engaging or enforcing policies internationally that would actually bring carbon dioxide emissions down. In short, there is nothing binding in these agreements that cause them to be enacted in a physical way, which has to happen.”

Specifically pertaining to the Glasgow Climate Pact, he said, “[parties] admit that emissions must fall by nearly 50 percent from 2010 levels by 2030 for global warming to be kept at 1.5 degrees Celsius above pre-industrial baseline levels. And yet, under the existing emissions reduction pledges, emissions will be nearly 14 percent higher by 2030 than they were in 2010.”

Additionally, rich countries consistently avoid financial responsibility for their disproportionate share in causing the climate crisis, he said. The Glasgow Climate Pact commits developed countries to doubling climate financing within the 2021-2025 $100 billion annual target; however these same countries were unable to meet a similar goal set for 2020 in 2009. 

These broken promises foster distrust among developing nations in COP summits. Countries can make pledges all day long but until binding commitments are agreed to, with penalties incurred if conditions are not met, pledges do not carry any substance, Jamail said.

CR: Given the disappointment following COP26, what made COP3 (Kyoto Protocol) and COP21 (Paris Agreement) successful?

DJ: “Define success…I would define success only as rich countries taking full responsibility for the havoc that they’ve caused to the planet, footing the entire bill for poor countries, and immediately bringing carbon dioxide emissions down, like the example we saw during the pandemic. Nothing short of that kind of global reaction is worth anything at this stage of the game.”

CR: Would you call the outcome of COP26 successful?

DJ: “I think it was a dismal failure, and I’m not using that adjective lightly. It couldn’t even get countries to pledge to phase out coal or reduce subsidies to the fossil fuel industry or to protect forests…I’ve heard it referred to as the COP-out 26, and I think that’s very applicable.”

CR: What are your thoughts on the media coverage surrounding COP26?

DJ: “Context is everything, and by and large the context of the coverage of COP26 is completely lacking the context of the scale of the emergency and how far along in the crisis we are.” Calling 1.5 degree warming a “fantasy,” Jamail said, “we’re still locked in to catastrophic changes by 2100. There’s nothing to indicate, with what’s on the table, that global temperature rise is going to be kept anywhere below 5 degrees Celsius…Everything we’re witnessing today is just from 1.2 degrees warming.”

The severity of the crisis is unparalleled. According to a 2019 study, humans are injecting carbon dioxide into the atmosphere at a rate ten times higher than it was during the paleocene eocene thermal maximum (PETM), a global warming event 56 million years ago to which there is no modern geologic equivalent. It is likely to be repeated within the next few hundred years, Jamail said.

“Three months after that study was published we hit 415 parts per million (ppm) of carbon dioxide in the atmosphere, and less than two weeks after that, the International Energy Agency announced global carbon emissions set a record in 2018, 2 percent higher than the previous year. Things are unravelling at a rate that is alarming, and coverage should be alarmist. In my opinion, it doesn’t go nearly far enough when you look at what’s actually happening to the planet.”

CR: What are some agreements you would have liked to see come out of the conference, from both developing and developed nations?

DJ: “I think developed countries have to foot more of the bill, if not the entire bill, of the costs developing countries are incurring from climate crisis-caused disasters. The developing countries are emitting almost negligible amounts of carbon dioxide compared to countries like the United States, India, China, and Russia, yet they are the ones paying disproportionate amounts of money to rebuild and keep themselves afloat as the disaster commences.”

He also highlighted the importance of putting an end to fossil fuel subsidies. At the conference, there were more than 500 lobbyists representing over one hundred fossil fuel companies—representation greater than any single country. In fact, despite claims of safety and inclusivity, COP26 campaigners warned the event would be the whitest and most privileged conference to date as attendees faced lack of access to vaccines and changing travel rules.

UN Secretary General Antonio Guterres acknowledged the plight of women, youth, indigenous communities, and those on the frontlines of the climate crisis, recognizing their disappointment in the face of insufficient commitments from national governments.

“I would imagine that the groups of people he issued that apology towards probably don’t want it,” Jamail said. “Talk is cheap.” Immediate action and compensation are what nations—who are literally going under water—desperately need, he emphasized.

CR: How do the discordant actions of policy leaders, such as taking a private jet to a climate conference, affect public perception of the climate crisis?

DJ: “It only breeds more cynicism and, I think, hopelessness when you see people continuing along the lines of business as usual while the planet literally burns.” The message sent to young people and activists is disheartening, he added. While Greta Thunberg opted to take a train to the conference, Jamail asked, “Could you imagine Joe Biden taking a boat, for example? I think it’s a pretty sad state of affairs when we have to rely on a Scandinavian schoolgirl to exhibit appropriate behavior during a crisis.”

CR: There’s been a larger emphasis recently on climate adaptation as opposed to merely mitigation, in light of the severe climate events of the past year. What do you think of this transition and how can countries implement both in tandem?

DJ: “I think the only thing left to do is move towards adaptation. That does mean taking radical steps, like abandoning the idea of the perpetual growth economy, and that means everything has to become a lot more local. Shipping goods around the globe is a dinosaur system. It’s going to go away whether we like it or not. The more actively countries can start adapting to that now, as opposed to being forced to, the easier that transition will be.” Increased local production, with the help of advanced manufacturing and automation, can help reduce maritime transport, which accounts for 2.5 percent of global greenhouse gas emissions.

Capitalism’s perpetual growth, driven by the fossil-fuel economy, is incompatible with emissions reductions targets, and euphemisms like “green capitalism” are merely “psychological protection,” Jamail argued. “The idea of perpetual growth is ridiculous; it’s impossible, and it’s insane,” he said. “Deep sacrifices have to be made, especially in developed countries.” Sacrifices, Jamail said, like those made during pandemic lockdowns, which proved that when necessity and government preferences align, changes can be made rapidly. 

“Bottom line, there is no way we can maintain the global economy and lifestyles in developed countries that we have today. Full stop.”

CR: While adapting to climate change how will countries tackle the predicted influx of climate refugees?

DJ: “That is one of the biggest issues that governments face going forward, even in the United States. The Pentagon noted in their annual report that [climate refugees] are one of the biggest security threats going forward not just in the United States, but globally. We know, from studies that have come out, that the number of climate refugees every year is going to increase into the hundreds of millions going forward…We’re going to see displaced people in numbers we’ve never seen from any war or anything else before.”

CR: Was there a significant emphasis on the Middle East and North Africa region during COP26?

DJ: “The short answer is no, absolutely not….There was not nearly enough attention brought to the climate havoc that’s already being wrought upon countries in Africa and the Middle East.” 

Poor countries and developing countries, who emit negligible amounts of carbon dioxide, bear the brunt of higher temperatures, droughts, wildfires, and infrastructure loss from climate disasters, he said.

CR: Saudi Arabia is praised for its fight against climate change in the region, yet wants to remain a leader in global energy markets while phasing out hydrocarbons. What do you think?

DJ: “How is that possible? Talk about speaking out of both sides of your mouth. You can’t have one without the other. If you are going to be serious about transitioning and getting off oil and gas and reducing your carbon dioxide emissions, you have to abandon the fossil fuel economy. Period.”

CR: Yet, Western countries also have a hand in perpetuating oil dependence in the region…

DJ: “Because all of our economies are fossil fuel-based. Without that deep, deep, deep collaboration, the global economy is not going to continue to function. The United States has a deep stake in the perpetuation of dictatorships and regimes in oil-rich countries so the United States maintains access to that oil and gas.”

A COP26 funeral was held on the conference’s last day by the international environmental activist movement, Extinction Rebellion, mourning the “failed process” of COP26—a harsh reminder of the hard work left to do. Jamail encourages people to start behaving according to the crisis we are in, where today is better than tomorrow. “It’s only going to keep intensifying,” he warned.

Many of my students have climate or eco-anxiety. It is a condition that results from the “chronic fear of environmental doom”, as the American Psychological Association defines it. Their climate anxiety is both an immediate experience of climate change’s effects in their own lives and a concern about their perceived unfolding of planetary demise. The threats are up-close and personal, and they’re distant and dispersed. The scale and intensity are overwhelming, especially when you start to learn that powerful stakeholders and decisionmakers are not doing enough to fix them. It was because of my students that I turned to studying the role of emotions in climate action. I even wrote a book on climate anxiety in 2020 titled A Field Guide to Climate Anxiety: How to Keep Your Cool on a Warming Planet. Since then, climate anxiety has only been on the rise.

Yet, a debate has emerged among climate emotion experts about whether climate anxiety is only for the privileged: those who may never have experienced other forms of existential threat, and who will be the last to feel the effects of climate change. The climate-anxious, according to this view, are worried about an unknown future, and so their dread is a testament to how isolated they have been thus far.

Climate journalist Mary Annaïse Heglar describes the privileged view as “existential exceptionalism”. According to Heglar, while the climate movement claims that climate change is the “greatest existential threat of our time”, it ignores the myriad historic and current threats to existence faced by more vulnerable communities. The “our” belies all the other struggles that have defined life for black and brown people, from slavery and colonialism to systemic racism and abuse. In this critique, frontline communities may worry about environmental problems, such as lead in the water or the siting of an incinerator, but the problems they worry about aren’t “the sixth extinction” or “the Anthropocene”: arguably more privileged framings of climate change.

Yet, in a stunning recent study that focused on climate anxiety among youth, climate anxiety is global phenomenon that cuts across categories of privilege, geography, and race. As that study suggests, youths from countries most impacted by climate change are the most likely to report feeling climate anxiety. Over 50 percent reported feeling sad, anxious, angry, powerless, helpless, and guilty, and over 45 percent said their feelings about climate change hindered their daily life and functioning. Similarly, in the United States, communities of color are more worried about climate change than their white counterparts. It makes sense that people experiencing climate change the most would feel the most anxiety about it. It also makes sense that youths around the world are feeling the most dread about how climate change will unfold, especially in their lifetimes.

The reality is that most of the world’s population has faced the prospect of an unlivable future. Climate-related traumas have been happening around the globe for a long time, and climate change compounds myriad other forms of insecurity. But this puts into question the very existence of climate anxiety as a phenomenon. In this logic, people worrying about starvation do not experience “climate anxiety” directly as much as they experience a suite of emotions that might better be defined as “trauma”. This is why climate change is often seen as a separate issue, and can even eclipse more local, pressing problems, which go by other names even if they are caused or exacerbated by climate change.

How can we reconcile this seeming contradiction: that some people on the frontlines of climate change feel climate anxiety, while others dismiss the concept as an affect of the privileged? Even those affected by climate change may perceive it as less of a threat. One answer is that culture and racial politics play an important role in shaping our anxieties toward the climate.

The Invisible Contours of Climate Anxiety

Climate anxiety often conjures a future problem. By its very definition, climate change cannot be perceived; the temporal scale for climate change does not match the scale of a person’s lifetime. Climate anxiety, then, is about a fear of some amorphous suffering that will manifest in some unknown future; the element of uncertainty is what makes it “anxiety”. Because “anxiety” is understood as having no explicit object of distress, it may not be the best word, then, for current experiences of climate change. Some theorists have tried to capture this element of futurity in climate emotions with new modifiers: “anticipatory grief”, “pre-traumatic stress syndrome”, or “global dread”.

Alternatively, experts have suggested other objects, such as “worry”. “Worry” has an object; it is visible to us; it has contours and is a physical manifestation, be it water in our living room, lead in our pipes, a fire raging through our town, a pandemic, or lung cancer. While all of these can be scientifically linked to climate change, they are easier to perceive as threats than climate change itself. Some people have also offered “climate distress” and “climate trauma” to capture the immediacy of frontline experiences and distinguish them from climate anxiety, which is then reserved for those whose present lives are fairly stable.

How the concept of time factors into these various climate emotions is one key to understanding the racial and cultural politics of climate emotions. Relatedly, temporality shapes risk perception. If something is an immediate threat, such as a pandemic, it is likely to be perceived as a greater threat than if it is a long-term problem. Indeed, climate change ticks almost none of the boxes risk perception experts say a threat needs to exhibit in order to be perceived at a degree proportional to the real scale of the threat. According to those experts, just because something is likely to be a threat doesn’t mean people will perceive it as such. And whether people perceive something to be a threat has little to do with the probability of it actually materializing. Climate change is a vapid enemy, which is why Greta Thunberg had to reframe it by urging us to respond to it “like your house is on fire”. It is difficult to narrate the threat of climate change in a way that gets people’s hair to stand on end. But of course, climate change will burn our houses down—it already is—and so why aren’t we mobilizing appropriately?

Cognitive dissonance—the sense of disconnect between knowing that your house is on fire but not acting like it—isn’t the only explanation. Environmental philosopher Timothy Morton’s theory that global warming is a “hyperobject”—something that is “massively distributed in time and space relative to humans”—helps explain climate change’s risk perception problem. Hyperobjects are “entities of such vast temporal and spatial dimensions … that makes them impossible to see as a whole”. Climate change fails to make us act like our house is on fire because it is such an elusive concept to grasp. It manifests like a whack-a-mole in so many interrelated but distinct phenomena across space and time.

In other words, our direct experiences of climate change will always be experiences of its proxies. In support of Morton’s point: hyperobjects are only detectable in the relationships they have among other things. So, climate change and anxiety can be spoken about in the concrete, immediate terms of “fire anxiety”, “hurricane distress”, “pandemic fatigue”, or “disaster mental health” and are clustered under an umbrella category of “environmental traumas” rather than “climate anxiety”. What is the value in recognizing that anxiety about any of these individual things is really anxiety about climate change? On the one hand, a unifying sentiment enables better coalition-building between different movements, but on the other, it erases nuance. Finding common ground between disparate problems is the way social movements and any kind of political organizing work, though, and so we should use it strategically.

Making Climate Change Perceptible to Humans  

The rise of the idea of climate anxiety can be an opportunity for a multi-issue climate movement, even if it goes against the tendency to keep these arenas of concern separate. To make it less of a hyperobject, climate change must be linked to threats that can be perceived at a human scale and on human time. Experiences of climate change depend on where people live and their relative access to power; depending on that, they may not articulate their experiences of climate change as such.

Like the parable of the blind men all touching different parts of an elephant and each guessing incorrectly what the elephant is, it is possible that climate change will manifest in people’s lives in very different ways. For example, if it’s true that alleviating poverty will help mitigate climate change’s worst effects, people’s experiences of climate change may be that of worsening poverty, not melting ice caps. Someone in one place might be experiencing sea-level rise displacement, while the climate trauma in another place may be in the form of decreased access to traditional foodways. And a person with more resources may experience increased heat and extreme weather events; even Prince Charles is worried that his grandkids will experience thirty-six times more heat waves than he did in his lifetime. My students are fleeing wildfires. These are distinct experiences of climate change; the experience of time and factor of vulnerability afforded by wealth and race shapes how different people will experience climate change’s effects. But the affective tone is similar: fear, dread, anger, anxiety.

In another example of race, climate anxiety as a concept fails to resonate among communities of color, even those most impacted by climate change. This is in part because of these racial politics of risk perception. In the United States, race is the greatest factor determining one’s exposure to environmental risk. Climate change will only amplify this, just as the COVID-19 pandemic exposed how race shapes health disparities and access. Yet, for these communities, being abandoned by support systems and the government—the legacy of slavery, colonialism, and white supremacy—is the defining experience of systemic racism. The enemy here isn’t exactly climate change, and one emotion about these legacies may be anxiety, but it’s also a lot of other things—anger, determination, fear, or betrayal—better captured perhaps by the term “intergenerational trauma”.

In other words, what a person perceives as an existential threat depends on their relative vulnerability, their position within hierarchies of disposability, their sense of themselves and their community within an arc of history, as well as the stories they believe about their proximity to a threat. These are the contexts that risk perception experts analyze to figure out why people fear some things but not others.

Climate Anxiety Is Shaping Culture and Politics

 But perhaps another way to approach the seeming paradox that those who experience climate change don’t always feel climate anxiety is that emotions are formed by culture; they are not pre-determined or universal. Affect theorist Sara Ahmed’s work, especially the Cultural Politics of Emotion, and neuroscientist Lisa Feldman Barrett’s research in How Emotions Are Made, show that people don’t feel emotions in a vacuum; their cultural backgrounds, conditionings, and life experiences shape the meaning they give to their experiences, which in turn determines how they feel about them. In other words, the stories they tell about what an experience means happens prior to having feelings about it. The story determines the feelings.

Put another way, how we make sense of our experience is determined by our context. Affect scholars have contextualized emotions like anger in this way: anger means different things to different people depending on cultural and family context, gender, race, and other conditions of power. Race theorists explicate the emotion of guilt similarly; guilt can act as an aversive emotion, prompting fragility and rarely activating change. Thus, discussion around any emotion, whether it’s distress or worry or anxiety, ought to consider different cultural contexts, identity, power, and language. Positionality, or one’s relative access to social and political power, shapes which emotions are permissible or likely. Emotions are situated.

Therefore, we should be nuanced in how we talk about climate emotions cross-culturally, even within our own neighborhoods, families, schools, and places of worship. Attentiveness to the way emotions are situated is necessary if we are to address both climate change and the mental health dimensions of climate change in all of these different spaces.

Thus, both “climate” and “anxiety” are relative; they mean different things to different people. Any feeling, from love to grief, cannot be assumed to be culturally universal. We can’t assume that these emotions mean the same things in different communities, that they are caused by the same things across communities, or that they will result in the same responses. A simple example of this is the phenomenon of wildfires in California. Cultural meanings of the fires vary immensely. To some, a fire conjures great fear, a sign of the climate apocalypse. To indigenous cultural burners and others, it is a solution to climate change, while the suppression of fire is both a cause and effect of colonialism, not just climate change.

Why does this matter for climate anxiety? Because while we may all be experiencing climate change—in all its myriad, dispersed manifestations—we may not all necessarily respond to these experiences in the same ways. It also matters because, if we are to mobilize resources to address climate anxiety—both in supporting mental health and in stemming climate change itself—it is imperative that we do so in a way that makes sense from the experience of others.

Seeing the Elephant and De-Privileging Climate Anxiety  

The potential in organizing around climate justice will happen only after connecting the dots and in seeing the parts related to the whole (the hyperobject, or elephant). As we start to see all parts of the elephant as a whole, we can see that the problems different communities experience can be tied to climate change. Moreover, this view helps us see climate change as part of a larger system that touches people’s lives in so many ways: from biodiversity, access to resources, and subsistence to policing, health justice, and migration.

Furthermore, the assumption that only privileged people can care about global warming reinforces troubling assumptions and can result in a greater silencing of the voices of people most impacted. Climate anxiety can be felt by anybody who is cognizant of how their own wellbeing is tied to the wellbeing of the earth’s affected ecosystems. For example, many indigenous scholars argue that indigenous communities are in the best position to be thinking about futurity; they cast their net of ethical care far more widely than Western cultures do, thinking not just about the moral injury that environmental destruction does to species and people far away from the source of harm, but far away in time. This is why indigenous communities advocate for a “seven generations” ethical commitment—how will our actions now be realized in the lives of our posterity seven generations hence?

Moreover, to assume that people of color don’t care about the planet’s future pigeonholes them as unenlightened about the climate and incapable of the scale of care required in this moment; in many cases, they model traditions of care that the rest of us need to cultivate. It also justifies their exclusion from the table where conversations about the planet’s future with its so-called stakeholders are happening. Just because they aren’t suffering from climate anxiety as it is currently defined doesn’t mean they aren’t deeply attuned to what is happening to the world.

Just like my students, it is possible to feel climate anxiety even if climate change isn’t the first or worst existential threat of our lives. It is possible that people can feel immense care for the planet and its inhabitants, and not feel anxiety at all; anxiety isn’t a prerequisite for care or action. It is possible to have big feelings about other threats that may happen in relation to climate change without ever using the words “climate change”. Other feelings might arise in relation to addressing climate change: resilience, compassion, love, and the thing that happens when we experience a sense of purpose and meaning despite and amid our suffering: eudaimonia.

Tending to these cultural politics of climate anxiety is not about shaming privileged people for their legitimate distress about planetary health and their (perhaps new) awareness of their own vulnerability. Likewise, we shouldn’t shame people who don’t feel climate anxiety, for example, or assume that just because they’re not using the words “climate” or “anxiety” that they aren’t deeply worried about the viability of life on this planet.

The variety of experiences here is important to recognize if we are going to bring the full powers of emotional intelligence to climate work. But most importantly, we should approach the emotional landscape of climate change with a robust awareness of the cultural politics of emotion: how they shape power relations and change culture, and how culture and power mediate emotions. This is just as true for environmentally-related emotions like climate anxiety; it isn’t just a feeling people have that we need to learn to cope with. It also shapes culture and politics. Ignoring the cultural politics of climate anxiety renders us far less able to address climate change together.

The consequences of climate change threaten the survival of the planet, with people in poorer countries being the first and worst affected. For some, however, climate change is yet another opportunity to make money. With new wars and internal armed conflicts a projected consequence of the increased scarcity of arable land and fresh water, continued competition over fossil fuels, the development of a new market of “green” arms, and border militarization to inhibit climate refugees, the arms industry is bound to profit from the climate crisis. The exclusion of the military from international emission reduction targets and growing global military spending further accelerates this process.

The continued dependence of Western militaries on fossil fuels makes the Middle East an important customer of Western arms companies. Aiming to control vital fossil fuel stores, Western militaries transfer weapons in an effort to outsource regional control and bolster the military capacity of recipient states. Arms trade to allies such as Egypt or Saudi Arabia continues to be huge, accounting for 35 percent of total global arms imports between 2015 and 2019. This trade, however, is not in line with the UN Arms Trade Treaty and the EU Common Position on military exports. These countries, as regional powers who control both fossil fuel sources and sea lines of transport, fulfill a crucial military role that overrides any peace or human rights scruples arms exporting governments might have.

Although militaries are well aware of climate change and have to deal with its consequences, NATO prioritizes its deterrence and defense posture over emission reduction. Military infrastructure is made more energy independent, but experiments with sustainable propulsion fuel, one of the largest sources of military emissions, are met with technical, financial, and environmental constraints. The most realistic way to reduce military emissions is to reduce the military itself. In a world where the biggest threats come from global problems, such as pandemics and climate change, international cooperation will provide more security than military competition.

The Inextricable Link Between the Arms Trade and Fossil Fuels

The international arms trade and oil are inextricably linked. The clearest examples of this are literal arms-for-oil deals. The most well-known is the Al Yamamah series of arms deals between the UK and Saudi Arabia—Britain’s largest arms deal ever. The deals, the first of which was concluded in 1985 and the most recent of which encompasses the 2008 sale of Eurofighter Typhoon fighter jets, has earned prime contractor BAE Systems tens of billions of pounds. Saudi Arabia paid the UK by delivering up to 600,000 barrels of crude oil per day. The deals have been surrounded by allegations of corruption; an investigation by the British Serious Fraud Office was aborted in 2006 under pressure from the Saudi and British governments.

More generally, fossil fuels have been a major driver of many recent wars and military interventions. Fuel is essential for the mass consumption-based economies of Western countries. As formulated in the NATO Strategic Concept: “All countries are increasingly reliant on the vital communication, transport, and transit routes on which international trade, energy security, and prosperity depend.” Not only are fossil fuels essential for economies, they are also a precondition for military action; they are as essential as bombs and ammunition. There is no military superiority without energy, and fossil fuels are the primary source. Uninterrupted access to energy—energy security—is a precondition to winning a war. “Energy security should be a constant item to be monitored, assessed, and consulted among Allies,” writes the high-level NATO Reflection Group in a 2020 paper preparing a new NATO strategy.

While military infrastructure is well on its way to becoming more energy independent, it is much harder to update military transport and mobility fuel sources, which is where most climate pollution takes place. A shift to sustainable propulsion fuel is not expected soon, and the military will therefore continue to be a huge fossil fuel consumer. For that reason, control of fuel-rich areas and sea lines essential for supply will stay on top of the military’s priority list, to not only secure one’s own access to fossil fuels but also to have the ability to deny access to major competitors, notably China.

If nothing changes, control of fuel resources and supply lines will remain a top priority for Western militaries for years to come due to fossil fuel lock-in caused by ever-increasing military investment coupled with the long life-cycles of existing military technology. This is a driving force for military power projection outside Western territory. In particular, the Middle East is paying a high price for the struggle for control over fossil fuel. For example, the official reason for the 2003 military invasion of Iraq by the United States and allies was the claim, later proven false, by U.S. intelligence services that Iraq possessed weapons of mass destruction. While the arms industry and private military companies profited considerably, the Iraqis paid a high price. At least 185,930 civilians have lost their lives in the violence since the overthrow of the Saddam Hussein regime. Then, in 2004, former U.S. Vice President Dick Cheney was honest about the cause of war: “Oil is unique because it is so strategic. We are not talking about soap powder or fashion here. Energy is really fundamental to the global economy. The Gulf War was a reflection of that reality.” In short, the war in Iraq was waged to guarantee the free flow of oil.

Allies in the Middle East play a central role in securing Western fuel supplies. Arms exports are used as an instrument of foreign policy and by transferring weapons, either for profit or as a gift, countries seek to improve the military capacity of recipient states. By a kind of “outsourcing” of regional control, allies are provided with military equipment, including weapons, and training. The aim to control fossil fuels leads to extensive and uninterrupted arms transfers to strategically located countries, such as Egypt, Saudi Arabia, and Israel. Arms imports into the Middle East increased by 61 percent between 2010 and 2019 and accounted for 35 percent of total global arms imports between 2015 and 2019. The majority of these arms are provided by the United States and European nations, who are also major buyers of Middle Eastern fossil fuels. Thus, arms-exporting countries experience an additional advantage when fossil fuel revenues earned in the Middle East are “recycled” into their economies. In addition, the amount of arms imported has a direct correlation with the amount of oil exported to the arms supplier. Oil-dependent countries tend to export more arms to oil-rich states, on the premise that it will help guarantee stability in these countries and prevent price increases.

Many of the top clients for the EU arms industry are authoritarian regimes and/or are guilty of internal human rights violations. Treaties and policies to control arms trade, such as the UN Arms Trade Treaty and the EU Common Position on arms exports, include criteria that should prevent weapons from arriving in countries where rights are violated or which are involved in war. However, these criteria are formulated in deliberately vague terms, specifically to leave space for military and strategic interests to overrule peace and human rights. A reviewof EU arms exports in 2018 alone shows exports to eleven countries involved in armed conflicts, including in Algeria, Egypt, Libya, Israel, and Turkey. The EU’s intention to “set high common standards which shall be regarded as the minimum for the management of, and restraint in, transfers of military technology and equipment by all Member States (…and) to prevent the export of military technology and equipment which might be used for internal repression or international aggression or contribute to regional instability” does not seem to work in all situations. Economic and military interests override peace and human rights considerations.

The same is true for U.S. arms exports. Although U.S. President Joe Biden is preparing an overhaul of arms export policy to increase the emphasis on human rights, he made his priorities very clear when his government announced major arms sales to the Al-Sisi regime in Egypt in February. A government press release argued that the sale would “support the foreign policy and national security of the United States by helping to improve the security of a Major Non-NATO Ally country that continues to be an important strategic partner in the Middle East… The proposed sale will support the Egyptian Navy’s Fast Missile Craft ships and provide significantly enhanced area defense capabilities over Egypt’s coastal areas and approaches to the Suez Canal.”

Oil a Priority, Despite Conflict

In a world facing a climate disaster one would expect defense organizations to become less focused on fossil fuels. This is not the case. Militaries are adapting to climate change by integrating climate risks into security assessments, not by reducing fossil fuel consumption and emissions. It’s not that they are not aware of the severe consequences climate change might have. Troop readiness might become hampered by heatwaves; weapon systems might suffer from extreme temperatures; installations, notably naval bases, are vulnerable to impacts such as melting ice, crumbling coastlines, and extreme weather conditions. In 2019, the U.S. Congressional Research Service identified more than 1,700 global military installations on coastlines that could prove vulnerable to rises in sea levels. Additionally, a 2019 survey of the U.S. Department of Defense (DoD) involving 79 installations warned that about two-thirds are vulnerable to recurrent flooding and another one-half are under threat by drought or wildfires. Armed forces are busy adapting their infrastructure, gear, and weapons to extreme weather conditions instead of investing in renewable alternatives.

The consequences of climate change will increase the risk of conflict. Diminishing resources, scarcity, drought, floods, and extreme weather fuel tensions and will add to other inflammatory factors, making violence more likely. Until now climate change has not been a primary contributor to armed conflict, but experts predict it will become a major driver if countries fail to reduce emissions and climate change continues.

NATO consents that climate change will make it harder for militaries to carry out their tasks and has potentially disastrous consequences. The NATO Climate Change and Security Action Plan states: “The implications of climate change include drought, soil erosion and marine environmental degradation. These can lead to famine, floods, loss of land and livelihood, and have a disproportionate impact on women and girls as well as on poor, vulnerable or marginalized populations, as well as potentially exacerbate state fragility, fuel conflicts, and lead to displacement, migration, and human mobility, creating conditions that can be exploited by state and non-state actors that threaten or challenge the Alliance.”

For the victims of climate change—the poor, vulnerable, or marginalized populations that will be forced to migrate—Western countries are preparing a harsh welcome. In response to the increasing number of refugees and migrants, borders are militarized and then legitimized by depicting migrants and refugees as security threats. Yet, for the arms and security industry, this offers business opportunities. The global market for border technology was estimated to be worth approximately €17.5 billion in 2018, with an expected annual growth rate of at least 8 percent in the coming years. Big arms companies, such as Airbus, Thales, Leonardo, Lockheed Martin, General Dynamics, Northrop Grumman, and L3 Technologies, are among the biggest profiteers of this market. The dramatic consequences of the border technology market can be seen in the Mediterranean, where hardly seaworthy boats are intercepted by European and North African navies and coast guards, forcing desperate people to take even more dangerous migration routes.

Estimating and Eliminating Carbon Emissions

Under the 1997 Kyoto Protocol, military forces are excluded from greenhouse gas emission reduction targets. This compromise, the result of military influence on the U.S. negotiation team, should have helped garner U.S. support for the protocol. Unfortunately, the United States never ratified the agreement, and the military exemption continued. Now, under the 2015 Paris Climate Agreement, signatory nations are free to choose whether or not to include military carbon emissions in their reduction targets. This decision is left to individual countries, a policy increasingly criticized by civil society organizations and climate activists. Both Scope 1 emissions, (direct emissions from systems and operations) and Scope 2 emissions (emissions from military infrastructure) do not have reporting or reduction obligations. For a complete calculation of military emissions, indirect emissions from the military supply chain (Scope 3) should be included, although arms production is not singled out from national industry emission figures.

The full extent of military carbon emissions is not known—since there is no reduction requirement under the Paris Agreement there is no obligation to report either—but researchers have deduced figures from other sources. Based on U.S. Department of Defense energy consumption, it is estimated that, from 2001–18, U.S. military forces emitted 1.267 million metric tons of carbon dioxide equivalent (tCO2e), a standard to convert all greenhouse gasses into CO2 equivalents for comparison. The war-related portion of those emissions—including for the major war zones of Afghanistan, Pakistan, Iraq, and Syria—is estimated to be more than 440 tCO2e. The U.S. military alone creates more planet-warming greenhouse gas emissions through its defense operations than entire industrialized countries such as Sweden and Portugal. For the EU, the carbon footprint of military expenditure of member states in 2019 was approximately 24.8 million tCO2e, with the arms production by military industry responsible for 1.7 to 2.3 million tCO2e. Large European arms companies such as Airbus, Leonardo and Thales are among the largest emitters in this sector.

The real challenge lies in reducing Scope 1 emissions from ships, aircraft, and combat vehicles, which are significantly greater than infrastructure emissions. Just as in the civil sector, propulsion fuel forms a bottleneck in the transition to sustainable operation of the military sector. Replacement of fossil-based propulsion fuel with sustainable alternatives so far has not taken off. Transport and mobility of modern Western armies account for about 70 percent of their energy consumption, the majority of which is consumed in the form of jet and diesel fuel. Although land and sea forces use considerable amounts, the air force is the largest consumer of petroleum jet fuel of all the branches of the armed services.

Reducing emissions by enhancing energy efficiency and introducing sustainable energy in infrastructure is relatively easy and already in progress. Solar panels and bio waste installations increasingly contribute to the energy supply of military installations, improving the endurance of military forces during conflict. Their strategic value is undisputed; fuel supply lines are very vulnerable, especially during deployment. Energy independence for military bases and installations will save human lives. For example, fuel convoys supplying military compounds in Afghanistan encountered notorious attacks along a thousands-of-kilometers-long road through rough Pakistani mountains. For the military industry, it creates a new market of mobile green power products to replace traditional generators. Easily transportable, easy to handle, and quick to set up power systems are already advertised as “combat proven,” meaning their merit has been demonstrated on the battlefield which is the ultimate recommendation for military products. Renewable energy can also be used for modest purposes such as heating or cooling barracks or powering small electric vehicles.

Using sustainable energy sources instead of fossil fuels also has a substantial financial advantage as fossil fuel consumption claims a huge fraction of the military budget. This advantage might dissolve, however, when futuristic plans permeate military budgets. One such ambitious plan involves beaming solar power directly from the sun to military outposts in remote locations. A constellation of satellite-mounted solar panels would collect energy on orbit and transfer it to mobile equipment on Earth. U.S. Air Force engineers are developing serious plans, and the world’s fourth-largest military company, Northrop Grumman, is the primary contractor, receiving a $100 million award to further develop the technology. While making military infrastructure more energy efficient and introducing renewable or sustainable energy for strategic and financial purposes, greenhouse gas emission reduction becomes almost a given by-product.

Slow Technology Development

Aircraft manufacturers, many of whom produce for the civilian as well as for the military market, make an effort to let the world believe they are on the brink of developing low, or even zero, carbon planes. Independent research, however, points out that this is overoptimistic despite options being tested, such as mixing biofuel with fossil-based fuel. Unfortunately, a large-scale use of biofuel can hardly be called sustainable, considering that biomass plantations will inevitably operate at the cost of food production. Producing biofuel crops such as palm oil, corn, sugar cane, or soybeans competes with food production for water and land resources and might increase food costs, especially in developing countries. Additionally, land grabbed and trees deforested to grow profitable biofuel crops forces people from their land and destroys their livelihoods. Furthermore, replacing forests withsingle crop plantations causes a further deterioration of biodiversity. The other biofuel alternative, waste-based biofuel, suffers from a finite quantity of usable waste.

The UK Ministry of Defence predicts it will soon introduce 50 percent Sustainable Aviation Fuel (SAF) for the Royal Air Force including for fuel intensive F-35 and Typhoon fighter jets. In 2020, UK Defence Secretary Wallace said: “The UK is leading the way in sustainability and by refining our aviation fuel standards we are taking simple yet effective steps to reduce the environmental footprint of defence. … As we strive to meet this government’s Net Zero carbon emissions target by 2050, it is right that we step up to spearhead these positive changes across both military and civilian sectors.” But this optimistic promotion of a fossil-free air force smells like green wash— creating a false “green” perception to delude a concerned public—instead of drawing the inevitable, but politically unpopular, conclusion that a green military is unlikely to happen in tandem with Paris Agreement targets. Technology, so far, does not support the minister’s claim.

Considering the long time that weapon development takes from first design to final product, the end of fossil fuel- based military systems is far away. Armed forces are locked-in fossil fuel technology. All new fossil fuel-based weapon systems now developed and commissioned will serve for many years to come, contributing to future military emissions. The NATO Summit 2021 communiqué shows the reality of the military’s approach to low-emission warfare. NATO has agreed “to significantly reduce greenhouse gas emissions from military activities and installations without impairing personnel safety, operational effectiveness, and our deterrence and defence posture. We invite the Secretary General to formulate a realistic, ambitious and concrete target for the reduction of greenhouse gas emissions by the NATO political and military structures and facilities and assess the feasibility of reaching net zero emissions by 2050.” NATO is asking for a feasibility assessment in which effectiveness, deterrence, and defense come first. Reducing greenhouse gas emissions is not the priority.

In the civil sector, aircraft builders such as Airbus boast they will produce a zero-emission hydrogen plane ready for service around 2035. Rolls-Royce promises net zero by 2050. It will most likely take many years—if ever—to develop zero-emission planes for civilian transport, let alone to replace supersonic fighter jets or aircraft carriers. However, the climate is running out of time, and 2050 is too late if we want the planet to stay under a 1.5 degree Celsius temperature increase.

Toward a New Security

 Armed forces are serious contributors to climate change, and therefore it is high time to give them emission reduction targets. There are several calls from civil society organizations in support of these targets, such as the Conflict and Environment Observatory which asks governments to use COP26—the 2021 United Nations climate change conference—as a platform for taking action. However, with sustainable fuel alternatives lacking, reducing military emissions might require alternative approaches; for example, it is possible to make greater use of simulated environments to reduce training emissions. Additionally, some emission reduction can be gained from improving the energy efficiency of military vehicles and from a shift towards more fuel-efficient systems such as drones which, by virtue of having no crew aboard, are lighter and emit less than their inhabited equivalents. This, however, only makes sense when fighter jets are replaced by drones, not by adding drones to traditional air fleets, as is now planned with Europe’s Future Combat Air System. Moreover, the use of drones raises many ethical problems that are yet unsolved, including the possibility of lowering the threshold of violence by removing the political costs of deploying manned military operations.

Realistically, the best way to reduce military carbon emissions is to reduce the size of the military itself. In both the military and the civil sector, limiting emissions requires a change from more and bigger to less and smaller. Recent reductions in U.S. military carbon emissions can be expected from the reduction in large-scale overseas operations, such as the decision to withdraw from Afghanistan. On the other hand, rising defense budgets, such as the 2.7 percent increase in NATO members military spending in 2020, will inevitably lead to higher emissions. While larger military budgets are warmly welcomed—and lobbied for—by the arms industry, they are disastrous for the future of our planet, leading us further down the path of growing international tensions, increasing violence, and a worsening climate crisis.

The key to shrinking the military is reducing military tensions. Rather than looking for new, lower-carbon ways to fight wars, governments should be prioritizing measures such as diplomacy, international disarmament treaties, addressing the root causes of conflict such as unfair distribution of wealth, and, of course, reductions in carbon emissions across the economy to prevent further climate destabilization. Idealistic as this may sound, these measures are more realistic than increasing military and economic competition in a world where a global pandemic and climate change are the outstanding threats, both of which can only be solved if countries cooperate. We must change the way in which we strive for security—from competition to cooperation—and we have to do it soon. Because, as protesting youngsters in the streets are desperately screaming at us, we are running out of time.

 

Climate change is no longer a ticking time bomb. It is already exploding. Across Africa, temperatures have risen by more than one degree Celsius since the last century. The rise in average temperatures in Africa is projected to be more than that of the global average, making Africa the hardest-hit continent. In places like South Sudan, the newest internationally recognized country in the world, the climate crisis is anticipated to manifest in the worst ways.

Ranked among the top ten most vulnerable countries to climate change on the African continent, South Sudan is a microcosm of how extreme climate change can affect a country, its people, and an entire continent. Already, the consequences of climate change are causing immense suffering there. With the rise in temperatures, droughts, floods, and erratic season rainfalls have caused substantial damage to livelihoods, infrastructure, and development in South Sudan and across the continent. Yet while industrialized Western nations and big economies have caused unprecedented emissions of greenhouse gases, which have led to rise in temperatures, the least developed nations in Africa and elsewhere are the ones that are bearing the brunt of the climate crisis.

Climate Change Hazards in Africa and South Sudan

In many parts of Africa, rainfalls are projected to increase, which will worsen flood conditions across the continent, increasing fears of more frequent and severe droughts. In South Sudan, the incidences of floods and droughts have been on the rise. For example, the number of floods in South Sudan over the past thirty years has come close to the total number of flood incidents in the sixty years preceding that; twenty-six incidents of floods were recorded between 1991 and 2021 compared to eighteen incidents between 1961 and 1991 and eleven incidents from 1930 to 1960.  This coincides with an increase in the country’s temperatures, which have risen by more than one degree Celsius since the mid-1970s.

In South Sudan, seasonal rainfalls have become unpredictable and early rainfalls have consistently gotten delayed. As in 2021, droughts have been occurring mostly earlier in the season from April to June and flooding later in the season from July to October. Floods are caused by heavy rainfall that is triggered by the excessive evaporation generated by high temperatures while the frequency of droughts is the result of high temperatures that have been drying up the land, leading to long and frequent dry spells.

Most of South Sudan lies within the Nile Basin and the flood plains and is therefore vulnerable to floods. Floods mostly originate from the Ethiopian Highlands through the Sobat River, which joins the Nile at Malakal in South Sudan, from Uganda through the White Nile River, from the Central African Republic (CAR) and Congo through the Bhar Ghazal River and its tributaries, and from the runoffs of local torrents. Rise in the water levels of Lake Victoria has been the single most devastating climate phenomenon facing South Sudan and countries downstream of the White Nile. The current flooding episode in the Nile Basin countries was caused by heavy rainfalls leading to the rising water levels in Lake Victoria, which were caused by an unprecedented increase in the sea surface temperatures of the India Ocean.

South Sudan’s vulnerability to climate change impacts is made worse by reliance on natural resources, which are susceptible to climate change shocks; political instability, as the country has been experiencing civil war since 2013 and has gone through a devastating war of independence for more than two decades prior to independence; and existing communal conflicts that have torn the social fabric. In addition, lack of access to water in high grounds causes people to live close to rivers, which exposes them to flood risks.

Impacts of Climate Change: Food Insecurity, Displacements, and Conflicts

Across Africa, floods have affected millions of people almost every year. For example, in October 2020, a total of six million people were affected by floods in East Africa, a fivefold increase from 1.1 million people in 2016. The severity of climate change impacts has also differed across the continent, with the more vulnerable countries like South Sudan being hit harder than the rest. For example, of the six million people affected by floods in 2020 in East Africa, about a million of them were from South Sudan. Climate disasters, which have been on the rise, have caused widespread and chronic food insecurity, displaced people, and caused or exacerbated deadly conflicts.

Food insecurity

Due to destruction of livelihoods, people have been left food insecure. For example, according to Save the Children, about 7.2 million South Sudanese have been on the brink of famine in 2021 due to a combination of climate shocks, violent conflicts, the COVID-19 pandemic, high prices, and inadequate access to humanitarian services. This is a 50 percent increase in the number of those exposed to famine compared to ten years ago, which seems to correspond to the rise in the frequency and severity of climate shocks, which act in synergy with other stressors.

This mirrors the same situation of food insecurity across Africa, where about more than 250 million people have faced acute food shortage in 2019, according to the Food and Agriculture Organization. Of these, about thirty-seven million were food insecure due to conflict and twenty-six million as a result of climate shocks. Since some of the conflicts were triggered by climate change, addressing climate shocks is also another way to address conflicts.

Climate shocks’ impacts on food security in South Sudan in particular and in Africa in general include destruction of crops, death of livestock, and shortage of food supply, among others. Shortages in food supply have often led to an increase in prices, making it hard for people to access and buy food. Because much of transport infrastructure has also been destroyed by the floods, this has curtailed the ability to transport food to flood-affected areas. For example, in South Sudan, roads and airstrips have been swept away by the floods and people have been trapped in flood-prone areas without access to food in the last three years of consecutive extreme flood.

Displacements and migration

The first report of the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) stated that the single greatest impact of climate change will be on human migration. Already across Africa, millions of people have been displaced by climate-related shocks, some migrating within their countries and others beyond their internal borders and out of the continent. About twenty-seven million people were displaced yearly between 2012 and 2017 by climate hazards. This will get worst in the years to come. According to the World Bank, about eighty-six million Africans will be at risk of being uprooted from their homes and displaced within their countries by climate change by 2050. It is estimated that by the year 2050, about 150 million people are highly likely to be displaced on an annual basis by water scarcity, storms, floods, and other climate-related disasters.

In South Sudan alone, of the one million affected by the flood between May and December 2020, more than half were displaced internally. Displacement has caused homelessness, with people—mostly the elderly, children, and women—sleeping in the cold without shelter and cover and exposed to mosquitoes and other disease vectors. Some of the displaced have succumbed to water-borne and climate-related diseases such as malaria, typhoid, and cholera. Others have suffered from hunger due to loss of livelihoods and due to constraints of the international humanitarian response to destruction of infrastructure, insecurity, and inadequate availability of food.

Conflicts

Climate change shocks, particularly high temperatures, droughts, and floods, have strong co-relations with violent conflicts, which have threatened peace and security in many places on the African continent in general and in Nile Basin countries in particular. While these shocks do not lead to major violent conflicts in developed nations, countries in Africa with weak institutions and rule of law, and that rely on rain-fed agriculture and natural resources, are highly susceptible to climate-shock-induced conflicts. Due to the state’s weak capacity in responding to the climate crisis, climate change exacerbates conflicts or causes them in two main ways: tension over access to resources and the raiding of cattle as a way to compensate for loss of assets to climate shocks.

In South Sudan, societies that traditionally conduct raids on neighbors are highly likely to raid neighbors when a drought or flood destroys their livelihood assets such as cattle. In more settled agrarian communities, such shocks do not often lead to raiding. Even so, these communities are still threatened when pastoralist communities are forced to migrate into their areas in search of better pastures following a flood or drought. For example, there has been chronic tension that has often led to bloodshed between Dinka pastoralists that have left their original lands in the Jonglei State due to frequent flood and settled within the agrarian communities of central Equatoria State.

In the Jonglei State in South Sudan, the Dinka, Murle, and Nuer people have often raided each other following an extreme climate event. For example, the floods of 2019 and 2020 were followed by heavy raiding involving thousands of men. According to Douglas Johnson, an expert on the history of Sudan and South Sudan, fighting between these communities, particularly between Dinka and Nuer, has often been influenced by climate disasters. Four major floods in the nineteenth century in the Upper Nile region were all associated with conflicts between the Dinka and Nuer. Interviews I have conducted with the communities in the greater Bahr Al-Ghazal region in South Sudan revealed that communities clash over pastures, water points, fishing grounds, and lands, among others, following a climate disaster that make these resources scarce.

Restoring Justice: Adaptation and Resilience Actions

Africa must adapt to climate change, and it must do so with a sense of urgency. As climate change is not of Africa’s making, it requires external support to amend the injustice that has been inflicted on Africa by the Global North, which has been responsible for most emissions of greenhouse gases and the subsequent rise in temperatures.

To amend climate injustice, Africa must be supported financially to implement adaptation measures. African people and their governments must own the projects and supplement whatever funds donated by the Western countries with African resources, as the continent cannot entirely rely on the handouts for climate finance. This requires putting the climate agenda on top of African governments’ priority lists. Donor countries must fulfil the promises made twelve years ago at the United Nations Climate Change Conference in Copenhagen to contribute $100 billion dollars annually to enable developing countries to adapt to climate change. This will go a long way in amending the climate injustice inflicted on Africa and other developing nations.

More practically, Africa should invest in climate-smart agriculture and irrigation systems; build seeds systems that are resilient to drought and floods; and develop climate change adaptation policies in the form of diversification of income and assets. It should also build flood defenses such as dykes and dams; pursue flood-prevention solutions such as dredging and remodeling of the rivers and tributaries; and enhance the capacities of the vulnerable groups such as women. Some of these solutions will be demonstrated briefly below in the case of South Sudan.

South Sudan’s climate change response

In South Sudan the main climate shocks have been droughts and floods, which have been wreaking havoc to livelihoods and food security; peace and security; and sustainable development. Droughts require a number of prevention measures, including building irrigation systems, climate-smart agriculture, and usage of crops that can do well in both water-scarce and water-logged conditions. For both droughts and floods there is a need to build the capacities of communities, including diversifying their livelihoods and assets; integrating adaptation and mitigation measures into policies and institutions; and cultivating political will so that the country becomes sustainably resilient to these extreme climate events. Political will is defined by political scientists as determination or a commitment by a political leader or a political party or policymaker to make changes happen. In this sense, it can be collective or individual. In our case, the political will to prioritize addressing climate disasters can be cultivated by engaging political actors through evidence-based advocacy as well as through political processes such as raising these issues during elections, where citizens can choose those who are willing and committed to implement such an agenda.

At the moment, in South Sudan, the political establishment is through the Revitalized Agreement on the Resolution of the Conflict in the Republic of South Sudan (RARCSS), signed in 2018 to end the 2013 civil war. Therefore, actors in this arrangement should be engaged to prioritize addressing climate disasters as part of addressing conflicts, as both interact to create shocks and consequences. This will entail engaging these stakeholders, creating awareness, establishing a climate change policy unit within the highest office in the land (particularly in the presidency to provide necessary technical backstopping and to raise the profile of the climate change issues, allocating considerable budget), and engaging and asking donor community to contribute. Relevant government institutions, academia, civil society, private sector, individual change agents, and political actors have a role to play and should get in forefront of realizing this climate adaptation and mitigation agenda.

Flood threats come from Lake Victoria in Uganda, the Ethiopian Highlands, the CAR, the Congo, and from local torrents as a result of heavy rainfalls as mentioned previously. To control these flood threats, South Sudan should design solutions that reduce the river flow into flood-prone areas during the floods; increase the river flow out of those areas; control the flood using levees and dykes; and/or relocate the population away from flood prone areas.

Increasing the volume of flow and use of excess water

The reason a flood happens is due to the river’s inability to accommodate an excess volume of water during years of heavy rainfall upstream, which causes flood in the low-lying areas. Therefore, one of the solutions is to increase the carrying capacity of rivers and streams so that excess water can stay in the channels. This can be achieved by dredging (removing silt and other material from the bottom of bodies of water) and straightening channels of the White Nile and other Nile tributaries in South Sudan. Experiences show that several channels of the Nile and its tributaries have accumulated sands, and that a dredging will go a long way in increasing the channel’s capacity. Other channels meander too much, which slows the speed of the river and creates accumulation of excess water and spillover. In this case, straightening channels within the Sudd wetlands can help. However, the magnitude that dredging and straightening may help in mitigating the flood impact is not yet known; therefore, this will require studies to establish what volume of water can be contained in the rivers through this method.

The other approach is to divert and channel excess water to water-scarce areas by creating diversion canals and reservoirs to store and manage water for irrigation and other purposes. Such canals and reservoirs can be connected to irrigation schemes particularly located in water-scarce areas. Like the method of dredging and straightening of river channels, this method can help divert excess water and minimize flood levels, and will put the excess water into use instead of it causing damage to livelihoods and getting lost through evaporation. While it can help, the extent to which this can be effective is not yet known, and therefore, it would have to be subjected to feasibility studies and environmental and social impacts assessment.

Defending communities and cities

To defend cities and communities against floods, South Sudan should build flood defenses in the form of dykes. These can be helpful only if they are well-studied, well-designed, and are constructed using the right materials and correct alignment. Currently, some of the dykes in South Sudan are made with earth mounds and are easily eroded by the menacing floods. The problem is that dykes are not sustainable if not well-designed and can block rain water from draining into water bodies alongside other devastating ecological consequences. One of the ways to build dykes in the proper way is to set them back a considerable distance from the edges of the wetlands as well as from the River Nile and its tributaries. Besides, they require materials that cannot be eroded or penetrated easily by water, and the slopes must be made gentle and planted with trees to strengthen them and withstand the forces of erosion. Credible feasibility studies and environmental and social impacts assessments must be conducted to inform the design of the dykes. Other components that should be included when studying and designing dykes include flood boxes, flood gates, and pumping stations at streams and other depressions to control flooding and ensure drainage.

Relocation of populations to areas with less flood risks

The majority of human settlements in Africa are close to rivers, where they are exposed to flooding. In South Sudan, part of the reason people live near rivers and wetlands is because of conflict as well as a lack of water in areas less prone to floods. Therefore, the government should relocate populations away from rivers and wetlands to areas within their territories that are less prone to floods. It requires political will or commitment and determination from the government to see this happen. The government should identify areas of resettlement and provide security as part of this adaptation because it will allow the population to stay in relocated areas and minimize communal conflicts. Relocation will also require resources, and this requires members of Parliament to raise relocation as a motion to be passed into law or an executive order from the president. This will involve awareness creation among the population as well as among the policymakers. This should be a collaborative effort that should also involve development partners to help in financing, and the parliament in allocating a considerable amount of money to relocation and provision of security.

Reducing the excessive river flow to flood-prone areas

To control floods, we must cut or control the excessive flood water from flowing to flood-prone areas using dams. This stands the highest chance of effectively controlling floods. South Sudan is the only country in the Nile Basin that does not have a dam on its Nile. Dam construction as part of flood control was first proposed by the British in the twentieth century as part of the Equatorial Nile Project, which was a hydrological plan intended to store and manage water and control flooding in the Nile Basin, particularly in the White Nile in South Sudan. This project included a series of dams or reservoirs in Uganda and South Sudan. Uganda completed the Owen Falls Dam in the 1950s as a result, but the rest of the dams were not constructed.

Some of the proposed dams were supposed to be built at Lakes Kyoga and Albert in Uganda, and Nimule and Bedden in South Sudan. Lake Albert and Nimule sites are some of the best for controlling the flood downstream in South Sudan. South Sudan and Uganda should initiate the building of a reservoir at Lake Albert for both flood control in northern Uganda and in South Sudan and for power generation for regional consumption. Other torrent-balancing dams in Nimule, Bedden, and Lake Kyoga should be explored as proposed originally in the Equatorial Nile Project. Lake Albert has steep banks which make it a natural place to store water, and has sufficient rainfall to balance water loss through evaporation. If well-studied and designed, these dams can hold back excess water and only the quantity that is safe can be released downstream. Reviving the Equatorial Nile Project along with the dredging of the Nile can lead to a considerable control of flood in South Sudan and northern Uganda.

In addition, South Sudan should explore and develop a flood management project on the Bahr Al-Ghazal River, which originates from an area with considerable amount of rainfall and ends up spreading over the flood plains and causing floods. Building a dam upstream on the Jur River, the Lol, or other tributaries, along with diversion canals, and dredging may help in minimizing flood impacts and water loss in the Bahr al Ghazal Basin. Another dam should be studied and constructed on the Baro River in Ethiopia to control flooding in the eastern parts of the country. Key stakeholders in these projects include the states of Ethiopia, South Sudan, and Uganda. Ethiopia, South Sudan, and Uganda can benefit from power generation and flood control. The private sector, which can invest in the building of dams and communities, is another important stakeholder to engage. Egypt and Sudan, which are downstream and have interest in having constant flow of water, should be engaged diplomatically.

As Africa is most affected by the effects of climate change, it alone cannot take measures to combat them. Developed and industrialized nations who have caused this peril must take the lead in financing adaptation in Africa, and vulnerable nations like South Sudan must of course follow their lead and prioritize climate change on its agenda. The most important tool required is commitment from leadership: leadership from the global North, leadership from Africa, and leadership from South Sudan. Commitment from leaders is required because combating climate change crises requires political will to mobilize technical expertise, build capacities where necessary, and mobilize and channel resources for adaptation and mitigation priorities. With the 26^th Conference of the Parties underway in Glasgow, global leadership is required to cut greenhouse gases to below 1.5 degrees Celsius and provide the much-needed $100 billion dollars annually to finance climate adaptation and mitigation efforts in developing nations, where South Sudan should strategically position itself to benefit and fence off the menacing threats of climate change.

Over the next decade, the world is on track to break through the 1.5°C global warming threshold, which will mark the difference between survival and life-threatening conditions in many regions. In its Sixth Assessment Report, released this year, the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) reports that the world has already warmed 1.1°C from pre-industrial levels, signaling a “code red for humanity”.

For most parts of the Global North, the consequences of climate change are still in the early stages. In the Global South, on the other hand, climate change-linked environmental destruction has been impacting lives and livelihoods for decades. The irony of this, of course, is that the countries of the Global South have contributed the least to this crisis and the destruction of the planet.

The crises around the world are a result of relentless exploitation of natural resources by the Global North’s countries and multinational corporations over the past few centuries. As of 2015, the United States has been responsible for 40 percent of excess global CO2 emissions, followed by the European Union at 29 percent. Overall, the Global North has historically been responsible for 92 percent of the world’s excess CO2 emissions. Meanwhile, countries in the Global South, including those in the Middle East and North Africa, have been suffering for years from environmental degradation and will be hardest hit as climate change intensifies.

Already, countries in the MENA region are warming at double the global rate, and breaking historical records. In 2021, countries such as Kuwait, Oman, Iraq, the United Arab Emirates, and Iran reached temperatures above 50°C (122°F). Children growing up in the Middle East today are exposed to more heatwaves, droughts, and crop failures than anywhere else in the world. Youth born in the region in 2020 are over seven times more likely to be exposed to extreme heatwaves over their lifespan, compared to adults born in the 1960s. Continued warming beyond 1.5°C will have life-threatening consequences.

Meeting these challenges and preventing the worst requires systemic changes in the world, from making deep cuts in greenhouse gas emissions and addressing historical global injustices, to preparing communities for severe climate, socioeconomic, and health impacts.

 Warming and Conflict

While climate change may not directly cause conflict, it can exacerbate existing divisions and grievances in societies where historical animosities exist, where socioeconomic inequality is prevalent, where people’s livelihoods are negatively affected by environmental degradation, and where institutions are weak. In these settings, climate change shocks will be extreme risk and threat multipliers, intensifying competition over scarce resources, and exacerbating existing societal fractures.

Climate change-linked natural disasters are expected to amplify and worsen inequality and poverty in fragile societies. This is likely to stoke divisions and lead to confrontations among vulnerable and desperate communities. The result of this in many fragile settings, according to the research by Halvard Buhaug and Nina von Uexkull, will be a “vicious circle, locking affected societies in a trap of violence, vulnerability, and climate change impacts”.

In Syria, for instance, unprecedented drought and agricultural failures between 2006 and 2009, which scientists have attributed to climate change, resulted in loss of income, impoverishment of rural areas, mass migration to urban centers, and intergroup disputes. The consequences of this drought are seen as some of the main factors that led to the 2011 uprising against the government of Bashar Al-Assad, which resulted in a brutal and protracted war.

In an address to the UN Security Council’s session on climate and security risks in April 2020, International Crisis Group President and CEO Robert Malley highlighted that around the world, “climate change is already shaping and will continue to shape the future of conflict”. This extends beyond state borders, with tensions already rising between governments, as in the case of Egypt and Ethiopia over the River Nile waters. Countries in the MENA region are the most water-stressed in the world and share many of their sources including aquifers, rivers, lakes, and seas. At the same time, the region’s institutions often lack the capacity to manage these resources sustainably, and this is exacerbating the risk of dispute.

Climate change is already aggravating water shortages and land degradation in the region, negatively impacting agriculture, livestock farming, and people’s livelihoods. In North Africa, protests over access and quality of water, linked to climate change, urbanization, population growth, increased demand, and limited supplies, have been taking place for years. In Syria and Iraq, more than 12 million people have lost or are in the process of losing access to water and are considered water insecure—a remnant of failing governments and years of conflict. On top of the historical trauma, water insecurity is a chronic psychological stressor that results in serious psychological consequences, such as depression, a sense of hopelessness, and even suicide.

In some cases, access to basic necessities such as water is used as a tool of suppression. The Occupied Palestinian Territories, for example, have for years faced a water crisis owing to Israel’s repression of the Palestinian people. Hundreds of thousands of Palestinians in the West Bank have limited access to clean drinking water, while only 10 percent of the population in Gaza can access it at all. In Gaza, 12 percent of childhood deaths are linked to intestinal infections that are related to clean water shortages.

As problems like these intensify, people will increasingly be forced to leave their homes, leading to another major outcome of climate change in the region.

Forced Displacement

Forced displacement due to climate change will be one of the biggest humanitarian challenges facing the world in the twenty-first century. Intensification of environmental degradation and natural disasters in the years to come will displace millions of people around the world. Some will be displaced in their countries, while others will be forced to become environmental migrants or refugees. Climate change-related displacement will negatively impact the Global South the most, including the MENA region, as most countries are not ready to deal with internal displacement or the inward movement of people from other countries.

Available data shows that displacement due to climate change is already on the rise globally. In 2020, there were over 7 million displaced people in more than 100 countries due to disasters that took place in 2018 and 2019. Since 2020, disasters such as floods, storms, droughts, wildfires, and other hazards have disrupted the lives of over 130 million people, forcing more than 30 million people to flee their homes and communities.

The World Bank estimates that by 2050 climate change will displace more than 216 million people around the globe, including 19 million people in North Africa. This will lead to enormous human suffering and, unless managed effectively, cause new disputes and possibly even armed conflict between the displaced and hosts. This displacement will also lead to trauma and mental health challenges of enormous proportions.

Mental Health Impacts

Climate change and environmental degradation that are intertwined with conflict, political violence, and oppression can in some cases unravel quickly and devastate societies, as in the case of Syria. The mental health impacts of the Syrian war and ongoing human rights abuses have been profound.

In other instances, the “slow violence”—a combination of gradually unfolding environmental catastrophes and related vulnerabilities and stresses—negatively impacts societies and communities over the years and decades. Slow violence evades boundaries and stretches across time, insidiously subjecting people to daily struggles and added traumas.

Over a lifespan, people living in conflict-affected areas can be exposed to multiple psychological adversities that are either directly experienced, witnessed, or anticipated as the climate crisis deepens. Around one in five people in conflict zones struggle with mental health challenges, such as depression, anxiety and post-traumatic stress. Children living in conflict areas in the Middle East are particularly vulnerable, reporting significantly higher levels of traumatic stress. As climate change progresses, it is likely that those living in the MENA region will be exposed to even greater hardships.

A combination of environmental degradation, violence, physical destruction, displacement, and mental health challenges and traumas in conflict zones and other fragile settings will reduce the ability of many people and communities to adapt to climate change, cope, and survive. Expanding access to mental health care services is essential. It is important to remember, however, that global climate injustices are psychologically, socially, and politically harmful, and these unjust social arrangements require practicable socioeconomic and political solutions.

Communities, countries, regions and the world as a whole must act urgently. Any meaningful solutions must include structural and systemic changes if they are to have an impact for the vulnerable people and communities in the MENA region and elsewhere in the Global South.

 A Call for Systemic and Structural Change

There is considerable agency in fragile and conflict-affected areas where communities resist ongoing violence and seek to sustain and restore a sense of self and cultural identity. Yet, as forms of structural violence, global climate injustices continue to undermine the future of much of the world.

Systemic and structural changes that are needed on the global level are not only about the way forward regarding renewables, cutting down emissions, and slowing down global warming. Changes are also needed when it comes to capitalist exploitation and extractivism, geopolitical machinations by powerful countries, and climate justice and reparations. This will require the dismantling of coloniality and Euro-American global hegemony, and genuine socioeconomic, political, and epistemic decolonization around the world.

Climate change scholar Farhana Sultana highlights that “climate justice is about systems change and addressing structural inequities and power systems that uphold those inequities”. Anything less will maintain the unjust and destructive status quo.

The geopolitical and economic interests of powerful countries are likely to continue to shape and impact life and politics in the MENA region and elsewhere in the Global South. Ideological and geopolitical interests and pressures will complicate the already complex political and security relations in the region and the ability of countries to prioritize and manage climate change risks.

Western interests, extractivism, and neocolonial hegemony are interlinked with the Euro-American hegemony in knowledge production and education, often complementing each other. Research byCarbon Brief shows that climate science continues to be overwhelmingly dominated by scientists from the Global North. This is creating significant “blind spots around the needs of some of the most vulnerable people to climate change, particularly women and communities in the Global South”.

We should be wary of the solutions designed and proposed by the scientific elites from the Global North, based on Euro-American dominant discourses, interests, and provincial worldviews. Communities and scientists on the frontlines of the climate crisis in the Global South must shape solutions for their own societies and regions. Solutions and actions must be based on the lived experiences, needs, and interests of those affected, with meaningful considerations placed on socio-historical factors.

Conflict-affected and war-torn countries are the most vulnerable to climate change and natural disasters, as instability undermines their capacity to respond. This is why conflict management, peace-building, and post-conflict reconstruction are key, not only for ending violence and rebuilding societies, but also for creating capacity and institutions to address and manage climate change.

As time passes, the prevention and mitigation of new conflicts will be as important as the responses to climate change itself. Governments, leaders and conflict management experts will have to work with communities to mediate and resolve disputes and find ways to collaborate in order to come up with solutions for the challenges and realities brought forward by climate change.

At the United Nations Security Council, the engagements and negotiations on a climate security resolution are ongoing. A formal resolution would be the first of its kind, recognizing climate-linked instability, conflict, and security risks and providing a platform for regular engagement and recommendations on how to tackle and minimize them.

Dealing with climate change must become a priority for leaders in the MENA region and beyond. ​​This will require changes in the way oil-rich MENA countries deal with extractivism driven by the Global North. The rich Gulf countries will also need to decide whether they want to work in collaboration with other countries in the region to mitigate and adapt to climate change, or whether they will act in self-interest only, developing local solutions and building walls to prevent climate and conflict refugees from coming in, as the Global North is already doing.

 While global climate financing for the transition to renewables is slowly trickling in, there is a lack of meaningful investment that takes into account the historical injustices that make the Global South vulnerable today. Climate reparations present an option to ensure that those who have benefited from colonial and neocolonial exploitation and who continue to contribute to the climate crisis are held responsible for their actions.

Climate reparations may include negotiated settlements between governments of the United States, the European Union, and the United Kingdom, who have benefited the most from fossil fuels and are overwhelmingly responsible for the global climate crisis, and countries that have been disproportionately affected by extractivism and climate breakdown. Financial reparations can be used to build capacity, infrastructure, and health and social programs needed to adapt to the shocks of climate change. Climate reparations can also include litigation for the losses and damages, including psychological trauma, that have resulted from the harm done by Western governments and multinational corporations.

Climate reparations are part of climate justice. But the issue of reparations is easier said than done. The list for Global North reparations is long, including slavery, colonial oppression, and looting, and this is not going anywhere. Thus, climate reparations may never happen, and the countries in the Global South may need to consider alternatives.

Easy or straightforward solutions to get us out of the upcoming crises do not exist. While we will not be able to prevent climate breakdown, countries and communities around the world—and particularly the vulnerable and fragile countries in the Global South—will have to continue with engagements, preparations, and adaptation.

The 26th UN Climate Change Conference of the Parties (COP26), a follow-up to the 2015 Paris Climate Change Conference, was seen as a make or break event where systemic and structural changes needed to be made. However, due to the lack of political will to make fundamental changes, the negotiations in Glasgow did not lead to the agreements necessary to bring greenhouse gas emissions under control. According to the Climate Action Tracker, the world is still heading for catastrophic warming of 2.4°C this century.

Extractive industries and multinationals had an overwhelming presence at COP26, protecting their own interests and influencing the outcomes of the negotiations. The United States and the European Union, most responsible for global climate destruction historically, have undermined the creation of a funding mechanism for rich countries that have benefited from the exploitation of the Global South to pay for climate damages they have caused.

Critical engagement on the Global North’s historical and current role in pillaging the Global South, and whether the needed changes can come under capitalism, was wholly absent. The world’s militaries, which are some of the largest emitters, continue to be exempted from the negotiations about the planet’s future.

Climate security and the links between climate change, instability, and conflict were not on the COP26 agenda. Nor were human rights and reparations. All this, and much more, will have to be on the agenda of COP27—which will take place in Egypt in November 2022—if we are to survive in this century.

Investment arbitration is the process by which disputes between parties are resolved, in private, without the use of a national court of law. Laws governing investment arbitration are meant to incentivize and provide security to foreign investors, protecting them from expropriation—when a state seizes a foreign investor’s property—and unfair treatment. Currently, Egypt is governed by pro-investment laws passed from 1968 to, most recently, Investment Law No. 72 in 2017. 

The Middle East and North Africa region accounts for just 11 percent of the caseload of the International Center for Settlement of Investment Disputes (ICSID), an international dispute-settlement institution which provides voluntary arbitration services. Notably, the number of arbitration cases filed against Egypt before ICSID is the largest among both Arab and African countries. By the end of 2017, thirty arbitration cases had been filed against Egypt, twenty-two of which have been resolved.

A Brief History of Development

“I believe that the context in which investment arbitration takes place is one of neocolonial imposition of neoliberal economic and political policies on the underdeveloped states, including Egypt,” Jason Beckett, Assistant Professor in the Department of Law, said, opening the “Legal Challenges and Opportunities with a Focus on Egypt” webinar hosted by the School of Global Affairs and Public Policy.

Beckett argued that both the pre- and post-World War II global paradigms were ones of colonialism and empire, despite popular assertions that the post-World War II order shifted in favor of international law and relations. Following a period of colonial struggles in the 1950s-70s, formerly-colonized countries “embarked on successful developmentalist policies that boosted both their economies and the living standards of their people,” Beckett said. Then, from 1981-83, the global financial crisis nearly bankrupted most developing states, who were forced to refinance their loans through the International Monetary Fund (IMF), and then the World Bank.

These loans imposed conditions far beyond repayment. Known as structural adjustment programs (SAPs), these conditions, imposed under duress, required a restructuring of macroeconomic policy. “What we saw at that moment was the beginnings of a new colonial movement to reduce the policy space of underdeveloped states…under the particular pursuit of neoliberal economic and political restructuring,” Beckett asserted. Neoliberalism is, in fact, not a failure, but a development project “sham” meant to maintain and disguise the neocolonial economic order, which benefits the overdeveloped world at the expense of the underdeveloped world.

Arbitration in Egypt

Ramy Bassily, a lawyer specializing in investment and commercial international arbitration and an AUC alum, draws a connection between the formation of the European Union, an economic-cooperation-turned-political-union, which today encompasses twenty-seven nations following World War II, and Egyptian policies following the January 25 uprising. Financially, the impact of the uprising manifested as an increase in investment-related arbitrations brought by foreign investors under bilateral investment treaties (BITs); the majority of the cases brought against Egypt have occurred since 2011. 

“Here, [Egypt] starts to make the link between politics and economics,” he said. The country was unstable politically, which negatively affected the economy, and thus, Egypt began work to restore political stability. Turning to the IMF, Egypt was awarded a three-year extended arrangement under the Extended Fund Facility (EFF) in 2016 worth approximately $2.75 billion. Despite the conditionalities mentioned above, the Egyptian government invested in projects, such as infrastructure, accruing money indirectly through salaries, tax revenues, and investment opportunities. “It was a kind of a marketing for foreign investors to come and invest in Egypt, saying that ‘Ok, Egypt is to be an investment hub in the region,’” Bassily said. The 2017 Investment Law No. 72 was also passed to help Egypt meet obligations agreed to under the IMF loan.

Apart from investment laws, Egypt is party to around one hundred bilateral investment treaties, seventy of which are enforced. Under these treaties, the state pledges to protect foreign investors against violations, namely illegal expropriation and unjust treatment. Egypt faces two dilemmas, Bassily said: attracting new investors with the new laws adopted and managing existing investors who were negatively affected by the laws. When investment laws change, previous investment analysis is rendered useless as expected returns are no longer the same, which can frustrate existing and deter future investors. Additionally, sometimes regulations are not implemented in proper accordance with the law, he stated.

If investors find their rights, as stipulated under investment legislation, violated, they may object and seek arbitration as a means to resolve the dispute. Founding Dean of the School of Global Affairs and Public Policy, Nabil Fahmy agreed that experience with international investment arbitration would have benefitted Egypt and likely would have prevented mistakes in the drafting of investment treaties. However, “to the favor of the government, it made a mistake, and it made up for the mistake,” he said. “But a contract is what binds two sides, so lack of expertise is not an excuse.” While most investment arbitration proceedings brought against Egypt are oriented towards a BIT and/or an investment law, other challenges to Egypt’s investment environment include: political instability, bureaucracy, incompetence, and corruption.

Reforms?

Bassily finds reforming bilateral investment treaties politically challenging. For example, “[the U.S.] will say ‘take or leave it, that is what we offer’ and you need those bilateral investment treaties because those American investors, who think about investing in Egypt, will reconsider their decision if they are not protected by an investment treaty,” Fahmy argued. 

To obtain feasible reforms, Bassily recommends having specialized experts review the treaties before they are concluded and easing the transition between changes in investment laws. Specifically, new Egyptian laws could include a ten-year transition period in implementing new regulations in an effort to accommodate existing investors, he said.

Additionally, the cultural context of arbitration matters. The private sector client is not likely to want to be party to an arbitration solely in the context of the local project country, Fahmy noted. “The culture and the context tends to be distorted,” he said. Fahmy suggested a regional arbitration with a MENA or African court bringing a greater understanding of the region’s complexity. Further emphasizing cultural context, Fahmy highlighted a comparison with the United States Supreme Court. “If you look today at the debate in the American Supreme Court, between the conservatives and the more progressive, it’s the same law,” he said. “There’s clearly a tendency to interpret the law in a conservative fashion by some and a more progessive fashion by others. The issue of interpretation is as important as the law itself.” Worldwide, cultural context affects the implementation of legislation.

The International Centre for Settlement of Investment Disputes (ICSID), an arm of the World Bank established by the Washington Convention in 1965, is the “most important” institution managing investment cases, according to Bassily. It is “the world’s leading institution devoted to international investment dispute settlement”, according to the center’s website. However, a 2015 book argues the legitimacy of the ICSID is challenged by a need to diversify its panel of arbitrators, a lack of accessibility to underdeveloped nations, and a lack of cooperation with member states in enforcing resolutions. Twenty ICSID cases against Egypt have been finalized—eight have been discontinued and settled with the investor and twelve have been decided; of these twelve, eight ICSID cases have concluded in favor of the state and four have favored the investor.

There have been scattered attempts at alternative institutions, but they were unsuccessful on the ground. “There are many bilateral investment treaties that are already enforced. Why would an investor go to a new institution or entity when they already have something that is constructed in terms of institutions?” Bassily answered.

Looking Forward

During COP26, the United Nations 2021 climate conference, international attention was focused on the leaders gathered in Glasgow and updates to nationally determined contributions (NDCs) established by the 2015 Paris Agreement. If, in the aftermath of the conference, countries wanted to increase environmental regulation, by closing coal-fired power plants or imposing extra costs for environmental damage, they would potentially be able to launch a claim for indirect expropriation—when a state takes effective control of an investment, depreciating its economic value. While the possibility is there, the state is not assured legal victory, Bassily said.

International investment arbitration is largely unknown, but it is important for people to know it exists, Beckett said. “It has a really material impact on states, especially in the developing world, and I’d say, at times, they have been chronically unprepared for that impact,” he argued. Investment, and corresponding dispute resolution measures, can affect development pace and equity, and by extension, the livelihoods of citizens across the developing world. “This is a topic that should be on university syllabi, should be the subject of advanced study and research, especially [in Egypt] and in other underdeveloped states,” Beckett finished.

As first lady of Egypt, Jehan Sadat championed social justice and women’s rights in Egypt and around the world, spearheading efforts to reform unfair divorce and custody laws, empower women economically, and advocate for women’s parliamentary representation. Her gentle leadership was distinct from the prowess of her husband, Anwar Sadat, who was president of Egypt from 1970 until his assassination in 1981.

Mrs. Sadat passed on July 9, 2021 at the age of 87 after battling cancer. The most valuable tribute to someone who passed away is not grief, but in fact, gratitude, said Motaz Zahran, the Egyptian ambassador to the United States, at the University of Maryland’s “Remembering Jehan Sadat” webinar. “We will always be grateful, appreciative, and  forever indebted to Mrs. Sadat for being such an illustrious personality of stellar and splendid qualities.”

Early Life, Marriage

Born in Cairo in 1933, young Mrs. Sadat was encouraged at school to pursue domestic interests such as sewing and cooking rather than academics. However, encouraged by her parents, she would go exploring the streets of her Al-Manial neighborhood. This would mark the start of her defiance and the unique trajectory she would take in her life.  

At the age of fifteen, she met her future husband, a divorced revolutionary man twice her age who had been recently jailed for resisting British occupation in Egypt. Enamored upon first meeting him, she said, in a 1987 interview with the Washington Post, that “to me Anwar was like a hero in a book.” While her parents did not initially approve, he proposed two months after they first met at her cousin’s home; they were married in May 1949 up until his death and had four children together.

“Even before she met him, she was half in love with him already,” her daughter, Noha El-Sadat, said. “And then she met him, and when she did, she said ‘this is the man I’m going to marry.’ She was sure that it was him.”

The First First Lady

One of her first dream projects, Talla Society, a cooperative she  began in the late 1960s with twenty-five sewing machines in an abandoned building, taught local women skills in order to encourage economic independence from their husbands. “She realized that if women were economically empowered, then they would also be politically empowered,” University of Maryland president Darryll Pines said.

Her husband held a series of senior positions in the government before being elected president in 1970 upon the death of his predecessor, Gamal Abdel-Nasser, and Jehan became the first president’s wife to take the title of first lady.

In 1972, Mrs. Sadat established the Wafa’ Wal Amal (Faith and Hope) Society, a fully integrated city for handicapped veterans and civilians. “She did not let any day pass without doing something good for the country,” former Minister of Insurance and Social Affairs Mervat Tellawy said when speaking about the society. The rehabilitation center is the first and largest of its kind in the Middle East, boasting clinics, national training programs, and recreation areas. She also worked closely with the Egyptian Blood Bank and the Egyptian Society for Cancer Patients.

Although she had begun her advocacy for women’s rights before becoming first lady, condemning female genital mutilation and helping local women become economically independent from their husbands, she began to assume a more public role after the 1973 October War, which granted Sadat increased legitimacy.

Mrs. Sadat’s advocacy of women’s rights and social justice was her personal credo, which she would defend privately to her husband. “Over half our population are women, Anwar,” she recorded telling her husband in her autobiography, A Woman of Egypt. “Egypt will not be a democracy until women are as free as men.” In 1975, she led the Egyptian delegation to the United Nations International Women’s Conference in Mexico City and again, in 1980, to the conference in Copenhagen. In what eventually became known as “Jehan’s laws”, her husband passed a series of decrees in summer of 1979,  improving women’s divorce status and setting aside a quota of thirty seats in parliament for women. These laws were later passed in parliament. 

She assumed an active role alongside her husband while he was president, an action which alienated people who were unaccustomed to this, but showed their strength in the face of criticism, Shibley Telhami, the Anwar Sadat Professor for Peace and Development, said. She also defended Sadat’s decision to sign the Camp David Peace Accords with Israel in 1979 after nearly three decades of war.  Against most expectations, the Camp David summit managed to bring about the Egyptian–Israeli peace treaty that was signed six months later. However, signing the treaty was a divisive moment in Egyptian history and politics. 

Tellawy remembers Mrs. Sadat defended “the peace agreement better than any politician or analyst worldwide” even after President Sadat’s death.

In a statement written for the event, former U.S. president Jimmy Carter stated: “She made it clear to us that Sadat had given his life for Middle East peace that he, Menachem Begin, and I had consummated, and that she and Mubarak were ready to give their lives for the same goal.”

“Peace…is the defining theme of my life,” she wrote in a 2009 op-ed for the Wall Street Journal, reflecting on the thirtieth anniversary of the controversial agreement. She remained enthusiastic and hopeful, stating: “In conditions like these, how could anyone hope for peace? But I do!”

In 1981, Anwar Sadat was shot by opponents of the peace plan during a parade commemorating the eighth anniversary of Operation Badr, the codename for the Egyptian military operation that took back a small portion of the Sinai Peninsula from Israel in 1973. He was airlifted to Maadi Military Hospital where he died two hours later.

“Every day?” she said in 1987. “No, I would say every minute I miss him. Every second.”

Education and Public Life After Sadat’s Death 

After a period of grief following Mr. Sadat’s death the next year, she returned to public life, moving to the United States, holding positions at Radford University and University of South Carolina, as well as giving lectures across the country.

Her charisma was electrifying to an extent that when she spoke, Egyptologist  Zahi Hawass remembered,the audience would be so silent you could hear a pin drop, he said.

Despite her husband’s death and her constant leadership on women’s issues, she was not satisfied without getting more education, Telhami remarked. At 41, Jehan Sadat enrolled in Cairo University, attending university at the same time as three of her children, and went on to earn her doctorate in Arabic Literature. She defended her master’s thesis (“The Influence of P.B. Shelley on Arabic Poetry in Egypt”) on television in 1980.

Her insistence on defending this thesis live was met with protest, remembered former president of University of Maryland, William Kirwan, to which Mrs. Sadat responded: “I want my defense on national television because I want the women of Egypt to see a man asking a woman a question and a woman giving the answer.”

For over a quarter century, Dr. Sadat was a fellow at the College of Behavioral and Social Sciences at the University of Maryland, where the Anwar Sadat Chair for Development and Peace was endowed in 1997 to honor her husband’s legacy. The chair was established to commemorate and protect the “progress that people have sacrificed their lives trying to defend,” Pines said. 

“She threw herself into the effort to create this chair, to help with all of the fundraising that would be necessary,” Kirwan remembered. It was the easiest fundraising assignment he had undertaken as “attendance was assured” when the event involved Mrs. Sadat. “People could not say no to her. That was just the universal love for her,” he said.

A Lasting Legacy: A First Lady Until the End

It is the details of one’s life that distinguishes one person from another, Zahran said. “Mrs. Sadat has lived like a candle in the wind, and certainly, thousands or even millions of candles can be lit from a single candle. That’s why millions of Egyptian women have been inspired by Mrs. Sadat and will always mourn her departure but cherish her legacy.”

She was awarded a posthumous national medal and a military funeral—the first of its kind for a woman—and was laid to rest next to her husband at the Unknown Soldier Memorial in Nasr City.

“I was very, very proud that she was the first woman in Egypt to have a military funeral and to be buried next to president Sadat, according to her wishes,” Tallawy said. “This is something to be written in history.”

Mrs. Sadat is survived by her children and eleven grandchildren, two of which spoke at the event. “She was a grandmother in every sense of the word,” Sherif Marei, her eldest grandson, said. “Her impact has transcended generations,” he added.

Mrs. Sadat remained, in some ways, a first lady of Egypt until the end.

“And what is in her heart? The love of Egypt. The love of her country. The love of the people of Egypt,” Hawass proclaimed. “Her name will be written in gold in the history of Egypt.”

COVID-19 has created both a challenge and a reckoning for contemporary photojournalists to find creative and conceptual methods to continue narrative storytelling. Nearly two years since the onset of the pandemic, photojournalists, whose jobs were once focused on documenting world events as they happened, are caught between continuing that style of work or adapting to the new conditions.  

This month’s dual exhibition at The Photographic Gallery, housed in AUC’s School of Global Affairs and Public Policy’s department of Journalism and Mass Communication,  “tells the story of the year 2020 but in a conceptual and creative way,” the gallery’s curator, Dina ElDeeb said. The exhibit is currently displaying the works of two emerging Egyptian photographers, Ali Zaraay and Ahmed Gaber. “They reveal two opposite sides that complete each other.”

Gaber’s work documents the Black Lives Matter (BLM) protests in New York in 2020, while Zaraay’s dream-like images depict the isolation, estrangement, and loneliness of the pandemic from Hanover, Germany. The exhibition juxtaposes a classic photojournalistic style with an emerging artistic one reflective of the universal condition experienced by everyone during the past two years, namely “pandemic life,” said guest speaker and Photo Director of The New Republic Stephanie Heimann. “No matter who is looking at these pictures, we are all sharing that experience,” Heimann stated. “Our global lockdown is a traumatic experience that we all shared as global citizens…Is there anything else that really compares in our lifetimes?”

Photojournalism and COVID-19

It was, and sometimes remains, difficult to send photographers to take traditional portraits as unprecedented questions arise. Heimann rattled off a list, including whether or not both parties were vaccinated, immunocompromised, or if the subjects had children in the house. While some political events have increased the safety risks for photojournalists—the BLM protests (two of her photographers were hit in the eye with rubber bullets) and the January 6 insurrection at the Capitol building in Washington, D.C. being but a few examples—at the end of the day, the threat  of contracting COVID is always present, Heimann said. She emphasized that photojournalists must remember that regardless of genre and style, they are the ones required to be on the frontlines.

Heimann sees that every photographer’s goal should be to affect policy change on frontline issues. This requires that they make personal sacrifices in pursuit of their craft. Citing the example of photographers whose images helped convict war criminals following the Balkan conflicts in the 1990s, she argued that while concrete policy change may not be the result,  photojournalism “is doing something to help move the world”. As “witnesses to history” U.S. photographers Ron Haviv and Christopher Morris who covered the conflicts across former Yugoslavia, captured the death and destruction of the conflict, which was later used as evidence in trials against war criminal suspects.

(Re)Defining the Medium

Zaraay’s work opens up a discussion on what to expect from photojournalists. While Gaber’s work follows a more traditional example of photojournalism, Zaraay combines artistic and reportage elements to shatter the traditional expectations of how the “decisive moment”—the action moment traditional photojournalism aims to capture—looks like. 

Both exhibits are full of information and communication, Heimann said; however, “the stories themselves are not always visual by nature.” While the BLM images are visual, with evident violence, fear, and conflict captured in moments of protest, Zaraay’s imagery is an introspective form of communication through a different genre of photography that many photojournalists were forced into during the pandemic, she added. 

This complication extends to gallery curators such as ElDeeb as well, who posed the question: “How do you tell the story about a deadly pandemic and an invisible subject, apart from showing masks, or people in masks?” The answer was in presenting two bodies of work that reflected the opposite experiences of lockdown. They complement each other, with Zaraay’s work being more personal and introspective and Gaber’s work relying on observational or documentary techniques of outside events.

For example, Gaber’s high-contrast work depicts action scenes soaked in shadows with heightened emotion evident throughout. Precarious angles, showing protesters from above or below at a diagonal, find gallery-goers tilting their heads left and right to interact with the motion of the photographs. Featuring several portraits of protesters chanting, with their hands raised or tears in their eyes, viewers confront the violence and fear of the protests and the BLM movement, preserved in a split second.

Heimann also introduced the concept of visual vocabulary, using an example of a photo essay by photojournalist Chris de Bode which depicts famine by documenting the amount of food families ate in a single day. “There’s a challenge in trying to find a new way for people to look at an image, especially if it’s something you’re expecting,” Heimann said. In serious contexts such as war, famine, or grief, being bombarded with the same types of images can lead viewers to become exhausted with them. “There’s a lot of resonance and power to telling stories in the non-traditional way,” she emphasized.

In Zaraay’s photographs, he presents a creative, internal representation of lockdown life. Due to pandemic restrictions, photojournalists have a renewed focus on still life, the representation of family members through technology, or nature, Heimann said, all of which are present in Zaraay’s work. His use of double exposure and multilayering seems to fracture reality, presenting an array of aesthetic manifestations, Ronnie Close, an associate professor in the Department of Journalism and Mass Communication who attended the event, said. 

Zaraay’s pieces depict wanderings through nature, video calls with loved ones, and everyday scenery. Four portraits of unnamed young adults are prominently featured, intimately posing in red, green, and natural light. They personify the emotions of the pandemic—shades of love, anxiety, and separation, Heimann said. Artistry became a necessity during the pandemic. “It was like asking everyone to become art photographers,” Heimann explained.

Defining the style of photography—documentary photography versus lens-based photography versus photojournalism—can be a complex and subjective process. Because of the ongoing interplay between art and photojournalism, which is accelerated by the pandemic, a new style is emerging that the industry may not even have a name for, Heimann noted. Consequently, the photographs in the exhibit are displayed without context or captions, only a brief description in the gallery guide.

The Importance of Perspective

In September, The World Press Photo Foundation, an organization which holds annual press photography contests, announced a new competition model for 2022. The organization will aim to increase the level of representation from regions that have been historically underrepresented in their contests. This initiative may help democratize the field, allowing more space for imagery collected on phone cameras or other accessible technologies as opposed to high-end equipment, which poses prohibitive cost barriers.

 “It would make it easier for citizens to tell their own stories,” Heimann argued. She added that the updated model may also help combat parachute journalism—a phenomenon where reporters “drop in” to a country for a short period of time, file stories without adequate knowledge of the political or cultural landscape, then leave.

If these channels are able to be opened by initiatives such as these, Heimann said, “we’ll have a better chance at people around the world telling their perspective of their stories.”

With the birth of podcasting in the 2000s, the medium has seen slow growth globally. According to a 2019 Edison Research study in South Africa, 22 percent of the country’s population had heard of podcasting, which was considerably lower than the 77 percent who were aware of podcasting in the United States for the same year. The same report noted that 19 percent of South Africans had listened to a podcast in comparison to 51 percent of Americans who had. Although podcasting is growing in Africa, radio, a close cousin that has been around since the days of colonization, remains prevalent.

Who Are African Podcasters

The largest podcasting markets in Africa include Nigeria, South Africa, and Kenya. When it comes to content, African podcasters do whatever they want using a variety of techniques and formats with a thumbprint that showcases their heritage, place, language, and style, like Sound Africa, a podcast organization which aims to amplify regional voices. While Africa is the second most populated continent in the world, when it comes to conversations about the state of podcasting, Africa is rarely featured prominently.

Listeners can access podcasts globally from any mobile device, however, a lot of people hardly get to see and hear African stories unless they explicitly use an international lens. The media companies which focus on and/or produce global stories tend to gain popularity. For example, non-fiction podcasts about African news appear to be a growing segment, such as the BBC’s The Comb. However, almost none of the major podcast production companies have shows about African podcasting. Without the seemingly bottomless budgets a few new African podcasts have received to go big, to have an African podcast heard far from the continent is rare. Additionally, the African podcasts that get exposure typically sound familiar with commercial appeal in terms of format, content, and tone. This is why opportunities to center podcasting in Africa through gatherings like PodFest Cairo and Africa Podfest exist—to celebrate and support the growth of African podcasters. PodFest Cairo is Egypt and Africa’s first podcasting conference, bringing podcasters and podcast listeners together to share experiences. Africa Podfest is a Kenyan, woman-led company which founded Africa Podcast Day (February 12) and whose primary objective is to cultivate the African podcasting community through networking and sharing resources. 

Audiences in Africa

Potential audiences in Africa are similar to those of podcasts in any other part of the world: who knows about podcasting, is interested in them, and knows how to find them.

As podcasters in Africa look to grow their listener base, the numerous African languages present a challenge. Elsewhere, generally speaking, the majority of available podcasts are currently in English, whereas in Africa, podcasts are produced in many of the native languages, including Arabic, and thus reach audiences that are otherwise ignored by podcasters who reside outside of the Global South.

African podcasters are unique in their ability to engage counterpublics by recognizing that they are not centered in the international podcast habitats. Also, globally, including in Africa, traditional radio is tethered to governments in terms of regulation and licensing and thus subject to various levels of censorship. On the other hand, podcasting is more rogue, with niche non-standard formats and topics. As a result, there is an exciting variety of podcasts, including emerging podcasts in true crime, wellness, history, and identity and culture. There is also a reciprocal relationship between the content podcasters are creating and what podcast listeners are interested in; meaning there is a focus on audience engagement. Buoyed by the growth in African podcasts that speak to the African experience, African podcast listenership has expanded.

Challenges Faced

The challenges and barriers to podcasting in Africa are both technological and educational. Weak mobile and internet penetration, though increasing, stifles the ability of the industry to flourish since internet strength is not as robust as it could be. Even with mobile and internet access, the large amount of data consumed by podcast listening presents a problem as the field attempts to develop as an emerging media. Though many popular podcasts on Apple Podcasts and Spotify*—media platforms where many listeners consume podcasts—are in English, in Africa, where it’s estimated that there are at least 1500 languages, podcasts are produced in many languages. This substantially limits potential listenership expansion.

Though the word podcasting may sound familiar to many, the inability to effectively educate potential listeners about what podcasts are and how to access them is another foregrounded obstacle. The former could be tackled with a public facing campaign through a podcast collective, such as PodFest Cairo or Africa Podfest, or by individual podcasters. Once potential listeners have the knowledge to find podcasts, we return to the topic of access, which brings to mind the issue of mobile penetration in Africa as well as the high costs of data consumption. Will the listener have to incur an expense in order to listen to a podcast? If so, Aaisha Dadi Patel, a writer and journalist at the Wall Street Journal Africa bureau, says audiences are more likely to listen to the radio as opposed to undertaking the added burden of trying to find, download, and then listen to a podcast, not to mention the exorbitant cost for data. Also, the cost of accessing podcasts using streaming services is prohibitive.

Along with the data expenses, many of the challenges facing podcasters in Africa are technological and steeped in the digital divide. Many Western podcasters have the luxury of technology infrastructure in podcast creation spaces in addition to access to production equipment. African podcasters produce their podcasts through a variety of approaches, basing their production decision on access to equipment and technology. Some have access to audio studios or utilize smartphones to produce their podcasts, and many do have proper podcasting equipment, such as microphones and computers, to record and produce their podcasts. However, in 2020, the Africa Podcasters Roll Call, a collaboration with PodFest Cairo and African Podfest, revealed that a lot of African podcasters have a do-it-yourself setup for production, and, as a result, their ability to produce high quality audio is hampered. Those succeeding in podcast production also have access to knowledge of advanced audio production and/or can afford studio time.

Finally, the economics of African podcasting are directly affected by market factors, including the internet and access to electricity. Often there is uneven access to electricity with more than a few countries experiencing frequent blackouts and needing to rely on generators.

Podcasting Research in Africa

Just as the podcast medium’s presence is increasing in Africa, so too is research in the field. South African podcasters have seen their community grow and firms, like Edison Research, have taken notice by collecting data on the region, releasing their first report on South Africa in 2019. Scholarly research has also increased. Though the method of data collection was not outlined, in 2020, Nigeria-based Tony Doe Media published data about the podcasting scene with some basic demographic statistics. The study found that the majority of podcast listeners, 70 percent, are male and all listeners listen to podcasts on a mobile device. From an academic perspective, one article, “Podcasts and new orality in the African mediascape” by Reginold A. Royston, was published earlier this year and documents the rise of the medium on the continent.

However, research on African podcasting remains in the early stages. How can African podcasters thrive if they do not know who they are podcasting for, and what their listeners and potential audiences want to hear? As mentioned previously, academic researchers have begun to examine African podcasting in greater depth. Simultaneously podcast organizations, like Africa Podfest, have also collected and disseminated early surveys on podcasting in Africa. By creating a baseline for knowledge on who African podcast listeners are, these efforts will assist in building a  profile of African podcast pioneers, expanding understanding on the business of podcasting in Africa, and beginning to paint a picture of what African podcasting by Africans everywhere could look like. 

The Future of Podcasting in Africa

According to Statista, Africa is the continent with the youngest population worldwide, with around 40 percent of the population aged 15 and under compared to the global average of 26 percent. With such a large youth population, podcasting has the potential to explode in the coming years. Moreover, barriers to entry are lessening due to knowledge sharing and improvements in technological infrastructures.

Monetization has been the buzzword in podcasting over the past few years, with many potential podcasters seriously inquiring as to how they can make a profit from podcasting. U.S.-based podcasters have widely benefited from inserting brief advertisements, such as live reads, into podcasts, but that proves viable depending on audience size, which is measured by companies like Edison Research and Nielsen as well as some podcast platforms, like Apple.

The ability for African podcasters to disrupt the current podcasting ecosystem is foreseeable despite the challenges they face. One example of this kind of schism came from podcaster and journalist Paul McNally. He was part of the team that utilized WhatsApp to distribute the podcast “What’s Crap on WhatsApp?” about misinformation on WhatsApp and created a community to thwart its spread.

The technological issues for podcast listeners, like data consumption, could unearth unique potential for podcasting on the continent as producers and audiences look for ways to navigate the podcasting ecosystem in a way that is convenient for this part of the world. That could mean developing a podcast distribution method that either uses less data consumption and/or distributing audio content via pre-established platforms like messaging apps.

Africa Podfest reports dating back to 2018 indicate that the types of podcasts released in Africa are consistently hyperlocal to Africa and may vary in language, context, and other features, such as distribution. Additionally, across our mostly Android continent (nearly 84 percent according to Statista’s 2021 data), the average podcaster is young.

For the African podcast ecosystem to continue to grow, it will take investment in the skills and knowledge of young podcasters who are excluded from traditional media networks. They are the drivers of growth for African podcasting and despite the hurdles, one thing is certain: if we do nothing to support African podcasting, few others will.

*For many years Spotify was not available in Africa, but then was introduced to South Africa in March 2018. It became available in Egypt and other parts of Africa in late 2019, however, only for music. The company does not always make announcements about updates or provide details, but podcasts polls are now available via the Spotify app possibly from September 30, 2021.

On September 21, 2021, members of the Sudanese military attempted to overthrow the government of Prime Minister Abdalla Hamdok in a failed coup d’etat. The attempt was allegedly the product of soldiers and civilian politicians previously linked to former strongman Omar al-Bashir. Al-Bashir was deposed in a coup amid mass protests in April 2019, ending his 30-year regime which was itself initiated by a coup in 1989. Hamdok, who has presided over the country’s transition as the head of a joint civil-military government, detailed the coupists’ attempt to seize the television and radio station in Khartoum, but assured the public that the attempt was quickly nipped and the plotters arrested. The failed attempt, according to Hamdok, was one of many recent events aimed at destabilizing the country. 

Naturally this latest event has quickly raised questions about the transition’s durability (here, here, here, here). After all, similar democratic experiments in Sudan’s history have fallen victim to coups – such as the 1989 coup by Omar al-Bashir and Hassan al-Turabi against the government of Sadiq al-Mahdi. In addition, observers have questioned the cohesion of the transitional government, pointing to an uneasy tension between its civilian body, composed of activists and technocrats, and its military body, composed of security actors who defected and removed al-Bashir in 2019. Despite this troubling possibility, failed coups are often a part of the democratization story – even amongst successful efforts. 

While many observers have treated coups as an afterthought in recent years (here, here, here, here, here), 2021 has seen a bit of a revival of these events.  A failed coup occurred in Niger on March 31, when an air force unit attempted to seize power two days before the inauguration of President-elect Mohamed Bazoum. The military usurped the constitutional succession process after the death of Chadian president Idriss Deby on April 20. Mali experienced its second coup in nine months when on May 24, Colonel Assimi Goita supplanted Bah Ndaw, who himself had taken power in a coup in September 2020. Most recently, Guinean President Alpha Condé was ousted by a special forces unit in early September. 

Various commentaries have sought to link these events given their proximity in time and space. For example, many observers blamed the resurgence of coups on a perceived lack of response from the international community, especially regional actors such as the African Union. It is natural to try to interpret these events through the same general coup framework. However, whatever commonalities these countries might have, they are separated by a wide range of domestic political situations. Conde’s removal in Guinea occurred after circumventing prior restrictions on term limits, a fate previously seen in the region by leaders such as Mamadou Tandja and—almost—Pierre Nkurunziza. Mali has seen itself fall victim to the coup trap after a 2012 coup derailed its 20-year experience with democracy. In contrast, Chad’s coup, which saw the ascendance of Deby’s son as the new head of state, can at least in part be interpreted as an effort to preserve a regime rather than change it.

So how does Sudan fit into these dynamics? After the 2019 coup against Omar al-Bashir, Sudan has seen various coup plots aimed at avoiding any sort of a transition. Whether it is coups that come about in the midst of executive aggrandizement, or coups that seek to return or preserve privileges of other elites,  a common theme throughout all of these events is the illegitimate effort to preserve authority. Thus far, Sudan has thus far avoided following Mali into the coup trap or Guinea into more explicit military rule. As it slowly moves toward assumed permanent civilian rule it is natural to compare the most recent coup attempt to Africa’s other recent coups. However,  a more hopeful comparison can be found in the more distant past.

Chris Fomunyoh has aptly described the region’s transitions as “democratization in fits and starts” and attempts to veto or reverse transitions from the armed forces are quite common. Even in the more successful cases. Following the 2014 removal of Blaise Compaore by mass protests against the leader’s attempt to extend his tenure, Burkina Faso saw elements loyal to the deposed leader attempt a coup just prior to its 2015 election. However, rather than successfully preserving regime holdovers, the plotters faced pronounced opposition from civilians, both at the elite and mass level, causing the coup to unravel within a week and the conspirators to be charged. Transitional president Michael Kafando was reinstated  and Roch Marc Christian Kabore would go on to win the subsequent poll in November 2015. Kabore was the first president in nearly 50 years without any ties to the armed forces. 

Mali’s infamous transition—set in motion by Amadou Toumani Touré’s coup against longtime dictator Moussa Traoré in 1991—was far from smooth. Similar to Burkina Faso’s transition, an attempted coup by Lamine Diabira sought to derail Mali’s liberalization. Diabira allegedly refused to hand power back over to civilians, placing him at odds with the rest of the transitional junta. However, his effort was squashed by forces loyal to Touré,  and following support from pro-democracy demonstrators Alpha Oumar Konaré emerged as Mali’s first democratically-elected president. 

In perhaps the most famous example of post-coup democratic transitions, Portugal saw the removal of Europe’s oldest dictatorship at the hands of its armed forces in 1974. Though celebrated for initiating the country’s transition to stable democratic rule, the path from coup to democratization was far from smooth or stable. Factions across the political spectrum tried to derail the transition and seize power for themselves. An attempted counter-coup in March 1975 by a far-right faction within the military sought to derail the transition but was thwarted. Similarly, leftist officers sought to establish a communist regime in November 1975 but were quickly subverted by forces loyal to General António Ramalho Eanes and the transitional government. Despite these veto attempts, the country’s democratic system was able to consolidate and remains robust to this day. 

Failed coups have acted as harbingers of future coups, have sparked civil wars, repression, and mass killings. And though unlikely to be associated with democratization at first glance, recent evidence has suggested that “perhaps counterintuitively, failed coups that target transitioning regimes may play a role in helping those regimes consolidate” by outing opponents, rallying support for the regime, and justifying various elements of security sector reform. Hamdok has already claimed that this latest event demonstrates the need for genuine efforts at reforming the military. Any potential future coup leaders could also face significant pushback from the domestic population, as seen in 1991 Mali and 2015 Burkina Faso.  

Rather than harbingers of continued praetorianism, these events have sometimes acted as signposts on the road to lasting civilian rule. Hopefully—years from now—we will be able to look back at Sudan’s recent coup conspiracies not through the lens of coups, but rather through the lens of a successful democratic transition.

In Part 1 we focused on the domestic drivers of the Syrian conflict. We also discussed the background of the various foreign military interventions and the motivations prompting external players to intervene militarily in Syria, thereby transforming it into a full-fledged conflict and a proxy war among regional and international rivals.

In this part we will explore how to generate an internal dynamic able to create a domestic critical mass in support of orderly change in Syria as well as an external dynamic able to tackle the issue of foreign military interventions. The interaction between these two dynamics should enhance the prospects of reaching a political settlement. 

As the United States has repeatedly stated, regime change in Damascus is no longer on the table. The issue, rather, is Syria’s domestic and foreign policies. In other words, if the behavior of the government in Damascus changes there is a possibility of reaching a political accommodation. Ultimately, the Syrian people should decide the kind of regime they wish to live under through free and fair elections meticulously prepared according to the highest international standards of transparency and accountability as called for in UN resolution 2254.

UN Security Council resolution 2254 contains a road map for a political settlement which includes new governance arrangements, constitutional reform, and elections held under UN supervision. These would take place in an enabling environment which would include efforts to combat terrorism, release prisoners and abductees, return refugees, provide humanitarian aid to all Syrians, and assist reconstruction.

In anticipation of such elections, the focus should be on how to bring about the requisite change in the behavior of Damascus. Towards this end, a number of considerations pertaining to the internal situation in Syria need to be taken into account.

The Unsustainable Present Situation

One such consideration—sanctions—has not been effective in regime change nor in substantively modifying behavior. History is replete with examples, but the most relevant is close to home: Iraq under Saddam Hussein. In that case they were UN Security Council Sanctions; in the case of Syria, there were no such sanctions. While the U.S. and EU sanctions have had a considerable impact on Syria, the most harmful effects have been felt by the hapless population, not the political elite. Just as Saddam Hussein was able to manipulate the Oil-for-Food Programme—whereby Iraq was allowed to sell oil to buy food under a scheme approved by the United Nations Security Council—Damascus, facing fewer restrictions and possessing allies willing to help, has been able to maneuver in the grey areas of international trade. There is no doubt that the crisis in Lebanon has impaired Damascus’ ability to deal with an already difficult situation, but one should not underestimate the creativity of the Syrians. They have survived partition, foreign occupation, famine, boycotts, civil strife, and wars over many centuries, always adapting but determined to safeguard the multi-ethnic and multi-religious character of Syria.

Moreover, despite waves of migration throughout the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, Syrians are strongly attached to their country. They want a better future for themselves and their children. After ten years of internal strife, the vast majority of Syrians have now reached the conclusion that the continuation of the present situation is not only unsustainable, but could very much be the end of Syria as a nation state. Their homeland would be no more.

Obstacles to UN Resolution 2254 

In spite of UN efforts, there has been scant progress in implementing resolution 2254. This is not surprising given the regional rivalries, disagreement among the permanent members of the UN Security Council, the unrealistic positions adopted by the Syrian opposition, and the reticence of the government in Damascus as outlined in Part 1. There was also no serious effort to directly address the following three issues that will ultimately determine the settlement. First, the specific political reforms required for the full implementation of resolution 2254 and how they can be linked to reconstruction. Second, the need to agree on what constitutes “political transition”, given that regime change is no longer an option. Third, the matter of foreign military interventions—Israeli, Iranian, Turkish, Russian, or U.S./NATO—in Syria must be addressed.

Since 2019, I have argued that the best way to bring about a settlement in Syria, and at the same time check and reverse Iranian and Turkish interventions in the region, is an Arab initiative on Syria based on implementing UN Security Council resolution 2254 in a package deal enacted on a step-by-step basis. This process would link the reconstruction and reintegration of Syria into the Arab and international community with concrete steps to be taken by Damascus in the implementation of the resolution. 

Needless to say, this process needs to be carefully calibrated in a manner that incentivizes the government in Damascus to cooperate in the full implementation of resolution 2254. A phased and incremental approach toward reconstruction based on positive incentives—the progressive lifting of sanctions, a gradual normalization of relations, and a staggered disbursement of reconstruction funds—is crucial. In return, the government would undertake specific economic and political reforms (Article in Al Sharq Al Awsat, December 19, 2019). 

The range of activities that comprise the progression from stabilization, recovery, and rehabilitation to reconstruction should be carefully calibrated with political and economic reforms in Syria. An innovative local, bottom-up funding approach was proposed by Omar Abelazziz Hallaj in a recent paper published by the Geneva Center for Security Studies, whereby aid mechanisms would focus on gradually formalizing local governance as a means to distribute services. Such a package is best presented by the UN while backed by the prospective major donors, especially the Arab Gulf and the European Union, who stand to lose the most from an unstable Syria. The purpose of such an initiative for a political settlement should be to create an internal dynamic that produces a critical mass in support of orderly change in Syria. This is only possible if the process is inclusive, encompassing the elements of Syrian society that are committed to a non-sectarian national state.

Syrians are divided on the nature and pace of reforms as well as on the fate of the regime. While some are unable to accept a regime that, in their view, is solely responsible for the tragic fate that has befallen Syria, others, particularly the Alawites, remain convinced that the present regime is their sole guarantee against acts of revenge. The Alawites and others who have benefited from the regime will require iron-clad guarantees concerning their safety and security.

Throughout this process, the special nature of Syria must be taken into consideration. It has always been a country of diverse religious and ethnic groups. Yet more than any other country in the region, these groups have been able to live together in relative harmony. It is the culmination of centuries of historical developments. While the conflict has undoubtedly left deep scars on every Syrian, the history and tolerant culture of the society will help in the healing process. Even the Kurds, who make up 10 percent of the population, do not seek an independent state. They aspire to express their Kurdish identity and culture within a unified Syrian state. They understand that this is the best way to preserve their identity or otherwise face Turkish domination.

Additionally, no one has been able to rule Syria, regardless of the ideological orientation of the regime, without the support of the merchant class in the major cities, particularly Damascus, Aleppo, Homs, and Latakia. This economic class, which maintains deep historical relations with Arab countries, has been marginalized during the war and is waiting for the opportunity to resume its traditional position in Syrian society. Conversely, the new business elite created by the conflict has shallow roots in society.

President Assad has repeatedly declared that one cannot turn the clock back on Syria, implying he is open to change. However, what kind of change, and at what pace, is the question. A question that can only be answered when Damascus is continually put to the test.

Dissecting Foreign Intervention in Syria

In the first part we discussed the background of the foreign military interventions that together define the external context of the Syrian conflict. We now need to dissect the nature of each of these interventions so we may be able to determine how to best deal with each one.

The multiple foreign military interventions take different forms. The most concerning and destabilizing are those led by Israel, Iran, and Turkey. However, Iranian intervention captures the most attention because of its strategic implications and its impingement on the interests of the greatest number of parties—not only the Gulf Arabs, Europeans, and Israelis but also Russia and the United States. It is also the most complicated to manage. 

The Syrian-Iranian Relationship

In order to appreciate the hurdles involved in dealing with the Iranian presence in Syria, one needs to unpack the Syrian-Iranian relationship, cultivated decades ago by the late President Hafez Assad as a counterweight to his Ba’ath rivals in Baghdad. In other words, its genesis as well as its underlying motivation was political not ideological.

Iran has no natural constituency in Syria. In Lebanon, for example, it has an ideological and religious kin in Hezbollah. Whereas the Alawites, who have dominated the ruling elite in Syria since 1970 and are considered an off-shoot of Shiism, are actually amongst the most secular segments of Syrian society. Their attachment to Iran is not based on ideological or religious affinity but rather on political expediency. In short, it is a tactical alliance.

Moreover, the increasing influence of Iran in Syria—and for that matter the region—did not result from deliberate calculations by Tehran, but rather as the result of three events. First, the United States invaded Iraq in 2003 without adequate preparation for the days after and, therefore, effectively handed the country to Iran on a silver platter. Second, Lebanese Prime Minister Rafik Hariri was assassinated in 2005 resulting in the subsequent withdrawal of the Syrian army and the beginning of the process by which Saudi Arabia aimed to ostracize Damascus, creating a political vacuum that Tehran quickly filled. Third, the conflict in Syria, which started in 2011, resulted in Damascus’ increased dependence on Tehran, not only militarily but also economically. It is worth noting that it was not until the U.S. invasion of Iraq and the downfall of the Saddam Hussein regime that Tehran was able to make serious inroads in the region. The sole exception was the case of Bahrain where there is a Shiite majority, and yet Tehran remains unable to install a friendly regime.

Ironically, one of the unintended consequences of the Syrian withdrawal from Lebanon was increased Iranian influence in Damascus. During Syria’s presence in Lebanon, Damascus exercised considerable control over Hezbollah. Once removed, Iran was able to exercise unchallenged direct influence over Hezbollah. The nature of the triangular relationship shifted in favor of both Hezbollah and Tehran. Instead of Damascus playing the role of the influential power broker, it was caught between an ascendant Hezbollah and its patron in Tehran. It has always been in Syria’s national interest to act as the balancing factor in Lebanon’s confessional political system. However, that does not necessarily fully coincide with the interests of either Tehran or Hezbollah.

Iranian influence in Syria also increased as the result of sanctions imposed by the United States and the EU. This created an economic dependency on Iran, supported by a new business elite which did not exist before the conflict.

In addition, Iran managed to enhance its influence in Syria by exploiting the vacuum created by the Arab retreat in 2012. This was possible through providing military and economic assistance to the government, investing in the economy, establishing a small network of businessmen, and nourishing members in the security services who cooperated with Iran for tactical reasons. Iran’s influence in the Syrian army is checked by Russia. 

Iran has also been able to make inroads into Syrian society through proselytizing its brand of Shiism, buying properties, and establishing religious schools. This has been particularly effective amongst the most economically vulnerable groups. If such vulnerabilities can be addressed, this process can be reversed.

Last but not least, despite Iran’s increasing presence and influence prior to 2011, Gulf countries had an important economic interest in Syria, and they still see the economic opportunities that a stable Syria can offer. There is also a significant Syrian diaspora in the Gulf that continues to maintain close familial and economic ties with their home country.

Israel

On the other hand, the military actions taken by Israel since 2011 can be viewed as a reaction to the expanded Iranian military presence. Therefore, it can be assumed that once a formula is found to address Iran’s enhanced presence, the Syrian-Israeli situation could very well revert to the one that existed between the 1974 Disengagement agreement and 2011, when the Syrian-Israeli front was largely calm. While reverting to such a situation does not resolve the matter of occupied territories, and therefore cannot be a not a long-term solution, it will assist in creating better conditions for establishing a regional security system.

United States

The small U.S. military presence was never going to be permanent. Once a political settlement is found, it is expected that the United States will remove the little assets it has on the ground. This will likely take place in the context of a wider regional arrangement involving Damascus, Tehran, Ankara, and Moscow and would be in line with the U.S. strategy to reduce its military presence and commitments in the region. Given the recent developments in Afghanistan, the United States may now be more eager to find an arrangement that would expedite its departure.

Russia

Russia is different. Now that Moscow has fulfilled its centuries-long dream of establishing a military presence in the warm waters of the Mediterranean, it is not expected to pack up and leave. After all, its presence is at the request of the Syrian government. Neither the present government, nor any future one, will be in a position to request Russia’s departure. Meanwhile, it appears neither Washington, Tel Aviv, nor for that matter, the Arabs have major problems with the Russians remaining in Syria, if only to check Iranian influence.

Turkey and Iran

Iranian and Turkish presence and influence are the most pressing issues. Three conclusions come to mind. First, although Iranian influence in Syria is evident, it is also exaggerated. There is a lack of popular empathy for Iran that is not confined to the general population; it has resonance elsewhere. In addition to this, Iranian influence is also kept in check by Russia. Second, the Iranian-Syrian relationship took some forty years to reach its current point. The challenge is to bring it back to where it was in 2011. Once this is accomplished, matters should be able to take care of themselves. Third, although Turkey’s presence is of a much shorter duration than Iran’s, it has long-term implications for the sovereignty and territorial integrity of Syria. Unlike Tehran, which largely depends on the Syrian government to spread its influence, Ankara, with the help of local proxies, exercises political and administrative control over the territories in which it maintains a military presence.

What is clear, however, is that the longer the present situation prevails, the more entrenched both Iran and Turkey will become in Syria. And as a consequence, Iranian and Turkish encroachment in Iraq will be more difficult to address.

Iran’s and Turkey’s regional behaviors will remain a matter of concern until threats to the territorial integrity of both Syria and Iraq are comprehensively and effectively addressed. Once this is achieved, any threats to other countries in the region will be reduced to a manageable level.

Regional Security System 

Ultimately, the best way to address the security concerns of the Middle Eastern countries is an agreement to establish a regional security system where all sides can balance their interests and security concerns. In this regard, a revived Iranian nuclear deal (JCPOA) may be the first concrete step.

Long-term

Agreement means different things for each party involved. For the Arabs, Iran and Turkey must cease intervention in their domestic affairs, and Iran can never possess nuclear weapons. Immediately, this introduces the concerns over Israeli nuclear capabilities. For Iran, regime change in Tehran, as a policy pursued by its foreign adversaries, must be discarded once and for all. Turkey would require an arrangement to secure its southern border.

The best means to arrive at such a result is through an Organization for Security and Cooperation in Europe (OSCE)-inspired process, but one that takes into account the two basic differences between Europe and the Middle East. First, unlike Europe, there is an occupied people—the Palestinians—and occupied territories in the West Bank, Gaza, the Syrian Golan Heights, and the Shebaa farms in Lebanon. Second, there is a “non-declared” nuclear weapon state and another trying to acquire the capability to produce nuclear weapons.

Building a regional security architecture is a complex and time-consuming process. Ultimately, a zone free of weapons of mass destruction should be established. Until then, security in the Middle East will remain fragile. A well structured, step-by-step approach is required, with the clear objective of establishing a zone of security and cooperation free of weapons of mass destruction. In this context, a viable Palestinian state would be created in line with the two-state solution, and Israel would withdraw from the remaining occupied Arab territories.

Short- and medium-term

While establishing a regional security system is a long-term objective in ensuring the stability of the Middle East, dealing with the concerns surrounding both Iranian and Turkish behavior and the reform process in Syria should be short- and medium-term objectives that can be realized. Meanwhile, both Tehran and Ankara must be made to understand that any further encroachment—any destabilizing actions—on their part will come at a price.

Iran will need a combination of incentives and disincentives to concede its advantageous position in Syria. Tehran will likely consider the matter from a regional security perspective. Incentives are offered by a regional security arrangement: a revived JCPOA followed by regional dialogue on the security concerns of both Arabs and Iranians. A number of proposals are on the table—Arab, Iranian, Russian and American. The recognition of at least some of Iran’s economic interests would be another incentive. In the event of significant Arab reconstruction assistance and investments, Iran’s economic influence will be greatly reduced. As for disincentives, the internal dynamics of reconstruction and reform would erode its newly created constituencies that underpin its influence in Syria.

Ankara, after pursuing a policy of regime change in Damascus, has scaled back its ambitions in protecting itself against what it considers a Kurdish threat to its national security. Therefore, a mutually beneficial arrangement with the Syrian government can be achieved on the precedent of the 1998 Adana Agreement by which Syria expelled the Kurdistan Workers’ Party (PKK) and Turkey was accorded the right of hot pursuit into Syrian territory. An updated Adana Agreement—given the infiltration of fighters from Turkey into Syria over the past ten years—should balance the security rights and obligations of both countries. This time around Syria will need guarantees to protect its northern border. This will require a dialogue between Ankara and Damascus possibly with the help of Russian mediation but preferably under U.S.-Russian auspices. President Erdogan has proven to be a pragmatist when it suits him. He has reversed course with Egypt and Saudi Arabia. He may well do the same with Damascus if it serves his interests. Unless Ankara is prepared to maintain a long-term presence in northern Syria—with its implied economic costs and international scorn—the only long-term and sustainable arrangement to secure Turkey’s southern border requires the cooperation of the government in Damascus. This is also probably the best arrangement for the Kurds in Syria to ensure their distinct identity within the Syrian state. Additionally, Ankara has extensive economic interests in the Arab world. It will have to understand that it cannot expand these interests if it continues to pursue its unrealistic Neo-Ottoman political ambitions.

In short, we need to move along two tracks to bring about a political settlement in Syria. First, a package of incentives and disincentives to entice Damascus to cooperate in the full implementation of resolution 2254 must be created. This would ultimately lead to free and fair elections, and in the process, peel away the constituencies that comprise Iran’s support network by establishing economic and financial dependency on Arab interests. Second, a process to reduce foreign interventions, primarily in Syria and subsequently in Iraq, must be initiated that would open the door to a regional security system.

Looking ahead

The prevailing argument amongst those who follow Syria is that the situation is extremely complicated, and therefore it does not, at this stage, lend itself to a political settlement. Therefore efforts should be confined to humanitarian assistance, in the hope that more propitious conditions will prevail in the future, for example, regime change. As a counter argument, I have long maintained the opposite. A settlement in Syria may well enhance the prospects of resolving other conflicts in the Middle East. Syria is the one conflict where most of the underlying causes behind the multiple conflicts intersect primarily: efficient and effective governance that meets the aspirations of the populations and foreign, regional, and international interventions and occupation.

As complicated as the situation may seem, one should not give up hope. Lately, after an extended period of stagnation, there have been indications that positive movement might be possible. The summit between presidents Biden and Putin may have, once again, opened the door to serious discussions on a Syrian settlement. Russia and the United States have, in the past under both the Obama and Trump administrations, held exploratory bilateral talks in this regard. Lately, on July 9, 2021, Washington and Moscow reached a compromise which made the adoption of resolution 2585 by the UN Security Council possible. This agreement on the delivery of cross-boundary humanitarian assistance is a further indication that both capitals are serious about re-engaging on a political settlement. The recent meeting in Geneva on September 13, between National Security Council (NSC) Middle East coordinator Brett McGurk and Russian Presidential Advisor Lavrentiev and Deputy Foreign Minister Vershinin appears to indicate an interest by both countries to resume discussions about Syria that have been taking place on and off since 2015.

Meanwhile the Biden administration, while yet to articulate a new policy on Syria, appears to be showing interest in exploring the prospects of finding political settlements to the conflicts that have for so long afflicted the Middle East. If anything, the debacle in Afghanistan should serve as an incentive for Washington to shore up its credibility in the region. It is not sufficient to dispatch the Secretaries of Defense and State to the region to express appreciation for the assistance it received in the withdrawal from Afghanistan. Washington needs to demonstrate, with action, that it appreciates the security concerns of not only the Gulf countries, but also Egypt, Jordan, and Iraq. This would entail serious engagement in resolving the festering conflicts in the region.

What happens in the Middle East does not stay in the region. In the mid-1970’s the United States sponsored a peace process between the Arabs and Israelis to prove that it was not a declining power after Vietnam.While it is true that the strategic priorities of the United States have since shifted, an unstable Middle East will impair Washington’s ability to concentrate its efforts on how to best deal with an ascendant China.

Moscow, on the other hand, has long been maneuvering to transform its military successes in Syria into political gains. It understands that this can only be achieved through an internationally sanctioned political settlement offered by resolution 2254. For that, it needs the active engagement of the United States.

This would not be the first instance Moscow and Washington cooperated on Syria. In 2012 they produced the Geneva Communique, even if they had different interpretations of the document, and in 2013, they were able to agree on the removal of chemical weapons. In 2016, they produced resolution 2254. In fact, between 2015 and 2017, the extensive contact between then-U.S. Secretary of State John Kerry and Russian Foreign Minister Sergey Lavrov, as well as their respective militaries, held the promise of reaching an understanding that could have opened the door to a political settlement. Unfortunately, in the waning months of the Obama administration, Russian-American relations suffered a downward spiral. The U.S. air force attacked the Syrian Army in September 2016, which the United States admitted was a mistake. A few days later, a humanitarian convoy was attacked in Aleppo province. As is expected in such circumstances, no one claimed responsibility, but the blame was laid squarely at the feet of the Syrian government and Russia. To complicate matters, Washington accused Moscow of interfering in the 2016 U.S. elections. As a consequence, prospects for an agreement between Moscow and Washington on a Syrian settlement came to an abrupt end.

Subsequent contact between Russia and the United States during the Trump administration did not bring about tangible progress, largely due to conflicting signals from the United States and apparent lack of urgency from Russia. By that stage it appeared Moscow’s strategy was to help Damascus regain the major cities and strategic highways, as well as establish Deescalation Zones to reduce the lines of confrontation between the Syrian government and the opposition, thereby allowing the government to gradually expand its control over Syria’s entire territory.

Regional Realignment

Another hopeful sign has surfaced lately: a regional realignment is taking place. It seems that the Gulf countries (with the exception of Qatar which is delaying the announcement of its policy shift until it coordinates with its ally, Ankara) have realized their past policies on both Syria and Iraq have allowed both Iran and Turkey to expand their influence in the region. In particular, these Gulf countries are reconsidering their policies vis-a-vis Syria and Iraq. Preliminary contact has been established between various Gulf capitals and Damascus and resuming diplomatic relations is being considered. There is also a heightened interest in returning Iraq to its natural place in the Arab fold. Economic relations are expanding between Baghdad and the Gulf countries and among Iraq, Jordan, and Egypt, in what is called the “New Sham” (New Levant), a new arrangement designed to enhance economic and political ties between the three countries. As part of this new orientation, Arab countries appear to be more open to mending their relations with both Tehran and Ankara.

A possible side effect of regional realignment may be the creation of a more realistic opposition that can act as a more effective interlocutor to the government in Damascus.

With the United States looking to reduce its military commitments in the region as exemplified by the withdrawal from Afghanistan, the Gulf states must consider alternative arrangements to address the security concerns that Iran poses. They have the choice between confrontation or containment. Confrontation will result in uncontrolled escalation which the Gulf countries have no means to control, particularly with reduced American interest. Containment is the more plausible option. It includes cooperation on issues of mutual interest and confrontation when absolutely necessary. But more importantly, it requires taking Arab security cooperation to a different level, buttressed with support from the United States and the EU. It is not inconceivable that Russia, in one form or another, may participate in such a scheme. Moreover, better security cooperation between the Arab countries will help them articulate a common position that will enhance their negotiating power vis-a-vis Israel, Turkey, and Iran in the process of establishing a new security architecture in the Middle East.

Meanwhile, given the turmoil witnessed since the U.S. invasion, Iraqis seem to have realized that sectarian politics is detrimental to their long-term interests, as evidenced by the 2019 popular uprising. Furthermore, Arab nationalism appears to be making a comeback. Arab countries are also eagerly welcoming Iraq back in their midst.

Meanwhile, the Biden administration has taken a more pragmatic and realistic position regarding the region. It is trying to revive JCPOA in the hope of influencing Tehran’s future behavior. The administration is also trying to revive the prospects of the two-state solution and declared in a statement by Secretary of State Antony Blinken that Palestinians and Israelis “should enjoy equal measures of freedom, security, prosperity and democracy”. More recently, President Biden, in his address before the UN General Assembly on September 21, affirmed the U.S. commitment to a two-state solution. Furthermore, the administration is energetically pursuing a political settlement in Yemen, is more engaged in Libya, and appears open to serious discussions with Moscow on Syria.

While a U.S.-Russian understanding is a necessary condition, it is not sufficient. The Arab countries, particularly those who have a direct stake in the stability of Syria—Egypt, Iraq, and Jordan—need to move on two tracks. First, they must present an initiative for political settlement in Syria that would capture the attention of both Moscow and Washington, propelling the Syrian conflict to prominence among the many issues they are discussing. Second, they must ensure that Iranian and Turkish presence and influence in Syria and Iraq is addressed as part of the ongoing discussions to improve relations between the Arab countries and between Tehran and Ankara. Serious discussions between the Arab countries and Damascus linked to the issue of reconstruction are also necessary. A door may have opened with the recent deal providing Egyptian gas to Lebanon through Jordan, and more importantly Syria; this required the acquiescence of Washington. This development together with Washington’s acceptance of early recovery assistance for Syria incorporated in UNSC resolution 2585 may help reinforce the internal dynamic of reform and reconstruction.   

Moving Forward 

It is urgent to capitalize on these developments and move forward rapidly with the efforts to reach a political settlement in Syria. In addition to accelerating the work of the Syrian Constitutional Committee—a UN-facilitated mechanism created to aid Syrian constitutional reform—there is a need to move ahead in a creative manner with the full implementation of resolution 2254 as outlined above. In parallel it is necessary to address the matter of foreign military interventions in Syria, starting with the regional ones. This in turn will facilitate the process of establishing a regional security system in the Middle East.

Failure to do so would result in a failed state in Syria divided into zones of influence, with Idlib and parts of northern Syria under Turkish domination and the land east of the Euphrates controlled by the Syrian Democratic Forces (SDF) with U.S. support. However, the majority of the territory and population, which would include most of “useful Syria” from the Mediterranean to the Euphrates river will be governed by Damascus. Yet, no leader in Damascus can survive if he contents himself with such an arrangement. This is not a formula for long-term stability; it is a recipe for chaos in the region.

If Syria collapses, the entire region will be further destabilized. The nation-state system in the Levant may come to an end. There will be no prospect of stability in Lebanon. Centrifugal forces in Iraq will foreclose the possibility of a unified country. Fragile Jordan will come under increasing threat. With an unstable northern tier, it will only be a matter of time before Saudi Arabia and the rest of the Gulf is under strain. Non-contagious Egypt will also come under severe stress. Even Israel will not be spared. And the world will be sucked in, once again, to contain the ramifications of an even more unstable Middle East, thereby initiating a new, vicious circle of instability, foreign interventions, and dashed aspirations—and the people of the region will pay the highest price.

In February, UN Secretary General Antonio Guterres called 2021 a “make-or-break year to confront the global climate emergency”. Yet, according to Robert Pollin, professor of Economics and co-director of the Political Economy Research Institute at the University of Massachusetts-Amherst, global ambition has not been sufficient enough to mark this year as a turning point. Without firm commitments to reduce carbon dioxide emissions, reduction goals will likely not be realized and global temperatures will increase past acceptable levels, Pollin said.

To achieve anything close to these goals, however, Pollin argued countries should collectively adopt what he has spent the past few years advocating: a Global Green New Deal (GGND) ambitiously aimed at achieving a zero emissions global economy. The term “Global Green New Deal” is meant to evoke Franklin Delano Roosevelt’s progressive and experimental New Deal policies of 1930s America, which aimed to provide economic relief, stabilization, and reform through federal programs and agencies. However this time, the project must embrace an ecological agenda and operate globally, on par with the scale of the crisis itself, Pollin said.

The GGND was commissioned in 2009 by the United Nations Environment Programme in response to the global food, fuel, and financial crises of 2008. It aimed to provide economic recovery, eradicate poverty, and reduce carbon emissions and environmental degradation. Pollin, and co-author Noam Chomsky, detail an updated version of the GGND in their 2020 book Climate Crisis and the Global Green New Deal. More than ten years since its inception, this project continues to advocate for “greening” the global economy to comprehensively combat climate change, providing a blueprint for net-zero carbon emissions with provisions for employment expansion and improving living conditions and public health.

Pollin’s plan, which he presented in a September webinar hosted by AUC’s John D. Gerhart Center for Philanthropy, Civic Engagement and Responsible Business, incorporates rigorous preventative action on the largest contributors to increasing global temperatures: fossil fuels and agriculture. It also includes protective measures for workers and communities dependent on the global fossil fuel infrastructure.

Citing his own research, Pollin estimated that 160 million jobs will be created per year through clean energy investments; currently, the energy sector employs around 58 million according to the International Renewable Energy Agency (IRENA). In his 2015 book, Greening the Global Economy, Pollin finds that, in six large-scale fossil fuel producing countries, investing in clean energy generated more jobs, per one million dollars spent, than investments in the existing fossil fuel infrastructure. These investments will also reap public health benefits by reducing outdoor air pollution and creating opportunities for alternative forms of ownership in the energy sector  such as encouraging the rise of smaller-scale energy systems.

Simultaneously, a just transition must be provided for the workers and communities dependent on the fossil fuel industry around the world, Pollin maintained. Workers, as needed, would be provided with pensions, new job guarantees and placements, relocation, and training, while communities would benefit from the cleaning and repurposing of damaged land used for mining coal and pumping oil and gas.

Where Are We: Breaching  Global Mean Temperature Targets

Evidence is mounting that the impacts of climate change are becoming increasingly severe. Droughts, heat extremes, heavy precipitation, sea level rise, and biodiversity loss are but a few examples, Pollin said. The Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC), a research body representing a broad scientific consensus on climate change, published a report in August which stated that by 2100, the increase in average global mean temperatures needs to be limited to1.5 degrees Celsius above pre-industrial levels (1850-1900). This is significant, Pollin explained, because prior to 2018, the IPCC accepted a 2 degree increase, but facing worsening environmental and lifestyle impacts, the target has been revised. The use of the pre-industrial levels establishes a baseline to measure the extent of human-induced warming.

Already, average temperatures stand at 1 to 1.1 degrees Celsius above pre-industrial levels. “In the last twenty years only, we have gone from a half degree above the global mean temperature to one full degree. So, if this trajectory were to continue, we will breach the 1.5 degree threshold in a mere 20 years,” he warned. “That’s where we are.”

To limit warming to 1.5 degree, the IPCC recommends two solutions; carbon dioxide emissions must be reduced by 50 percent by 2030 and eliminated entirely by 2050. However, 2030 is only eight years away, and sustained warming is recent and has occurred rapidly—it was not until 1980 that the world began to experience a persistent increase in global temperatures. “It is going to get worse,” Pollin added, “The question is how much worse and whether we have the capacity…to stabilize.”

Transitioning Out of Fossil Fuels, Industrial Agriculture

Burning fossil fuels to produce energy is responsible for roughly 70 percent of all greenhouse gas emissions and could be even higher according to the recent IPCC report.

Pollin proposed two primary alternatives to the global fossil fuel infrastructure: increased energy efficiency and the use of renewable energy sources. Increasing energy efficiency entails greater reliance on efficient public transport and electric vehicles, electric heat pumps to regulate building temperatures, LED lights, and the use of combined heat and power systems in industrial production.

“Raising energy efficiency standards can get us to the point where we will be able to stabilize our demand for energy even as the global economy grows,” Pollin argued.

To eliminate fossil fuel use by 2050, the necessary reductions in spending would result in an estimated 3.3 percent contraction per year in the global economy—if cuts were to begin now. Starting early is critical, Pollin stressed; every year cuts are postponed necessitates larger cuts in subsequent years. As for expanding the use of renewables—primarily wind and solar power but also geothermal and small-scale hydroelectric power—Pollin estimated that around 2.5 percent of global gross domestic product (GDP), or 4.5 trillion dollars annually, would need to be spent to achieve zero carbon emissions by 2050. This target would require a five-fold increase in spending as, currently, around 0.5 percent of global GDP is allocated to investments in renewables. It’s a large number, Pollin said, but it is manageable.

While this $4.5 trillion annual commitment applies to both advanced and developing countries alike, Pollin proposed advanced economies finance the project almost entirely themselves. “The advanced economies are responsible for having created climate change, for creating the crisis,” said Pollin. “We bear the responsibility to deliver the financing.”

From a business perspective, renewables just make sense, Pollin argued; 62 percent of newly installed renewables for power generation are cheaper than the cheapest fossil fuel alternative.

“The simplest answer is: these are efficient technologies; they are available right now; they are cheap, and they work. They’re safe,” Pollin said. Nuclear energy is not cheap, Pollin argued, and carbon capture has not yet been proven on an industrial scale. Moreover, solar, wind, and geothermal energy are roughly half the cost of both nuclear energy and burning coal with carbon capture. “I don’t see there being any choice if we take climate science seriously. Therefore, we have to transition out of fossil fuels,” Pollin said. “We have to do it now.”

Agriculture, meanwhile, accounts for close to the remaining 30 percent of greenhouse gas emissions. Deforestation releases carbon dioxide into the atmosphere, and then leaves forests without their previous absorption capacity for forty to fifty years until trees regrow. Dominant industrial agricultural practices, heavily reliant on nitrogen fertilizer, leave the soil devoid of its natural carbon dioxide absorption capacity. A focus on reforestation and organic agriculture will increase natural carbon capture, Pollin asserted.

Benefits of Adopting the Global Green New Deal

Adopting the Global Green New Deal is not a choice if we take climate science seriously, Pollin stressed. We cannot use problems with renewable alternatives as an excuse to avoid the transition out of fossil fuels. The costs of clean energy are low, and the technologies are available and will create jobs, Pollin stressed.

In the short term, investing will create jobs that will help mitigate the global recession caused by the COVID-19 pandemic. In the long term, Pollin stated, the Global Green New Deal is a climate stabilization project which will create decent work opportunities and contribute to fighting poverty and raising mass living standards.

“It’s the way to go,” Pollin stressed. “The Green New Deal is available to us right now.” But adequate commitments from the global community are lacking. However, if implemented, the GGND would address the stark reality of the climate crisis, which is severe, global, and occurring rapidly. It would provide realistic and safe alternatives to supplant the dominant carbon-emitting economy, Pollin said, and the sooner countries pursue it, the better.

The global pandemic has led to more than 217 million cases of COVID-19 and roughly 4.5 million deaths. 

Thanks to the widespread distribution of vaccines in some countries this spring, there was a moment when the virus seemed poised to be checked, or even largely brought under control. By mid-June, for example, the United States reached its lowest case numbers since March of 2020. Sadly this moment has passed, and is now a blip against the backdrop of a worsening global situation. 

Without widespread access to vaccines, vast swaths of the globe remain unvaccinated, and the virus is spreading freely. At the time of this writing, countries that are experiencing massive spikes in new cases and deaths include India, Indonesia, Malaysia, and Vietnam, along with many regions of South America (per capita, Peru has the highest COVID-19 mortality rate in the world). Africa—which as a continent has the world’s highest death rate of patients critically ill with COVID-19 due to limited intensive care facilities and inadequate reserves of critical  supplies like oxygen—is also experiencing a surge in infections.

The world is at a critical point in the pandemic, and the alarms are ringing.

Variants “Could Be Catastrophic”

“If world leaders don’t act now, the end of the Covid pandemic may come in a horrible form of herd immunity, as more transmissible variants that are taking hold around the world kill millions,” wrote sociologist Zeynep Tufekci in a May article for the New York Times. With the Delta variant now wreaking havoc among the unvaccinated worldwide, that prediction grows close to bearing out. Meanwhile, as quickly as new variants emerge, so too does misinformation about the virus, vaccines, and the politics of it all. Reliable data, and sound recommendations from governments and public health organizations simply aren’t keeping up.  

Fast forward to early August, Tufekci writes “The C.D.C. is still mired in the fog of pandemic, with too little data, collected too slowly, leaving it chasing epidemic waves and trying to make sense of information from other countries. Epidemics spread exponentially, so delayed responses make problems much worse. If the response to a crisis comes after many people are already aware of it brewing, it leaves them confused and fearful if they look to the C.D.C. for guidance, and vulnerable to misinformation if they do not.”

That confusion and misinformation has left about 30 percent of eligible Americans unvaccinated, while much of the world struggles even to access vaccines. What this means is that instead of the pandemic ending by way of mass vaccinations, the odds are rising that it will end by way of enough people becoming immune via infection.

Even in countries where there is widespread vaccine availability, like the United States, if even a quarter of the population refuses to get vaccinated, that leaves tens of millions of people as a pool for the virus to infect and use as hosts to create new variants. Epidemiologists warn that if there is a large enough pool of unvaccinated people, eventually the virus could mutate into a variant that our current vaccines will not provide immunity to. Hence, the idea that with enough time countries will be able to eventually vaccinate enough people is simply not going to work.

One sign the world is heading in this direction is one of the most recent variants of concern—the Delta—which came out of the catastrophic situation in India. Due to governmental leadership in India not taking the virus seriously enough, from mid-May to late June that country experienced an utter disaster. As businesses and activities were kept open amid a surge of new cases, hospitals promptly became overwhelmed, and there were so many bodies that enough wood could not be sourced to cremate them. During this time the Delta variant arose, which worsened the situation exponentially. India has now become one of the worst countries on the planet for cases and casualties, with more than 30 million cases and over 400,000 deaths.

Britain, which has had one of the most successful responses to the virus in recent months, is now seeing an increase in cases and hospitalizations. Unlike the United States, Britain re-imposed national restrictions late last year to reduce the spread, and chose to vaccinate as many people as possible with a first round of shots (delaying second shots for many) in order to more rapidly reduce the number of cases. The virus retreated rapidly, but now cases are again increasing, and the primary cause appears to be the Delta variant. Adding to this was the UK’s decision to reopen society too quickly. 

In the United States, particularly in the South where vaccination rates have lagged, the picture is darkening. The country reached a daily average of 100,000 covid hospitalizations on August 28—a threshold not seen since the height of the winter surge, when vaccines were not yet widely available. With variants, this suggests, come greater severity and transmissibility.  

Tufekci points out how increased transmissibility is truly an exponential threat. “If a virus that could previously infect three people on average can now infect four, it looks like a small increase,” she wrote in a recent post on her blog. “Yet if you start with just two infected people in both scenarios, just 10 iterations later, the former will have caused about 40,000 cases while the latter will be more than 524,000, a nearly 13-fold difference.”

Whether this scenario plays out on a local, national or global level it will likely mean that most deaths in those locations will happen after the vaccines become available there, unless their distribution is rapid and widespread enough to reach herd immunity first. 

Dr. Kees Kolff, an epidemiologist and public health specialist in Washington State (which was hit heavily with Covid in early 2020, but has since had one of the most effective responses in the United States) discussed the dangers of allowing the virus more time to mutate: 

“The race at this point is to keep the virus from mutating too much and creating more dangerous variants,” Dr. Kolff explained. “The more people it has an opportunity to infect, the more chances one of the mutations will become more dangerous and more infectious and thus a deadlier virus. There are new variants coming out all the time, and we haven’t seen the end of it, because the majority of people in the world are not immunized.”

He, too, pointed to places like Africa, much of Asia, and most of South America as examples of this, saying that these places “are nowhere near having enough people vaccinated, and it’s a race against the mutations”. While Kolff wasn’t surprised at the rapidity with which a vaccine was produced, given how closely we have been studying coronaviruses for over a decade, he expressed grave concern about the variants. 

“People who were watching coronaviruses were not surprised when this thing came out,” Dr. Kolff said. “But the danger with a pandemic is that  instead of just having millions of people exposed [in whom] the virus can mutate and look for more strategies to enter humans…you now have billions of people…so the virus is having a heyday.”

Most of the mutations of the virus will “die out,” according to Kolff. “There have probably been thousands of mutations we have never even known about. Since they didn’t propagate and spread to other people, we didn’t have a chance to identify them.” 

Dylan Morris, a postdoctoral researcher at the University of California, Los Angeles, studies how the evolution of RNA viruses is shaped by ecological processes within and between hosts.

In an essay titled “Novelty means Severity” penned May 18, he noted that unless the virus is eradicated, which is not likely in the short term, most people will ultimately encounter it. Those who have been vaccinated will most likely not get sick, or if they do it will be mild in comparison to the full-blown disease. Hence, Morris emphasizes, the faster vaccinations are rolled out, the more lives will be saved. 

But the lack of a rapid and comprehensive worldwide rollout of vaccinations is precisely the problem. 

The United States, for example, spent the taxpayer money necessary to have domestic companies develop and patent vaccines, and has rolled them out fairly quickly. Despite this, the government was unwilling at first to do all it could to share excess vaccines with the rest of the world, particularly in places where it is most needed. Thus, the disparity of vaccination availability remains glaring, resulting in needless excess deaths. 

Ignoring a Life and Death Crisis

On June 5, three countries reached 60 percent or more of their total populations with their first vaccination dose. They were the UK, Israel, and Canada. As of this writing, the UAE leads the world with 87 percent of its population having received the first dose. Meanwhile, the United States is in a unique situation where it has become an example of both what to do, and what not to do. 

On the one hand, largely due to the changing of administrations, the United States went from being a basket case in terms of its mishandling of the pandemic, to a country with vaccines to spare, and 52 percent of the country fully vaccinated. 

Yet, the rate of people getting vaccinated has slowed to a crawl, notwithstanding some uptick in August as Delta spread and vaccine mandates began to be implemented in some places.

Epidemiologists, doctors, and public health officers around the United States have pointed out that there appears to be three main groups of people in the country. One group wants the vaccine, a second group is still questioning whether they should get vaccinated and remains undecided, and a third group will never get vaccinated, for either religious, political, or ideological reasons. 

This means that, between the second two groups, there will be roughly 25-35 percent of the U.S. population (between 8,250,000 and 11,550,000 people) that will never get vaccinated. This leaves an extraordinarily large pool of people within which the virus will spread to create increasingly contagious and deadly variants. 

Dr. Kolff suspects that many people don’t really understand how dangerous COVID-19 is. It is not not only a respiratory disease, he says, but also a vascular one, which has been shown to carry numerous long-term consequences in studies confirmed by the National Institute of Health and the Center for Disease Control.

There are those living with “Long Covid” with symptoms like fatigue, headache, brain fog, depression and chest pain that can last for many months. In fact, any organ of the body including the brain, heart, kidneys, and lungs can be damaged by resulting inflammation of the blood vessels, and we don’t know how long these problems will last. Dr. Kolff cited mental health issues including depression and psychosis, which scientists are only beginning to understand. 

“In children it has caused something similar to Kawasaki disease, an inflammatory blood vessel disease that includes skin rashes, large lymph nodes and potentially serious heart disease if left untreated,” he notes.

The worst outbreaks in the world have taken place in India, the United States, and Brazil, in that order, all due to failed national leadership.

At the time of this writing, the United States, despite widespread vaccine availability, still has the highest number of cases and deaths (some 39,573,050 and 643,865 respectively, according to Johns Hopkins University’s Coronavirus Resource Center due largely to the negligence of the Trump Administration during the early months of the pandemic. India follows with 32,903,289 cases and 439,895 deaths, and Brazil with 20,830,495 cases and 581,914 deaths. 

Tufekci has been equally critical of the situation in the United States regarding those who refuse to get vaccinated: 

“Those countries which lack both widespread prior immunity from previous outbreaks (like us!) [the United States] and widespread vaccination (also like us!) are sitting ducks. Something like the Delta variant can burn through such populations like a firestorm.” she wrote in May—another forecast sadly realized.

The United States has meanwhile come under criticism for not doing enough to share its excess vaccines with countries in need where the virus is exploding.The Biden administration has begun to assist these hotspots, delivering 110 million doses abroad by early August. However, critics argue that Washington could send far more doses, and should have done so sooner, given the new variants and the deaths increasing in various places. 

As the Delta variant appears poised to begin working its way through the United States in the coming weeks, it underscores the fact that as long as the virus remains uncontrolled in one part of the world, it will inevitably make its way back into other places where it was thought to be on the way out. 

“In fact, after this coronavirus or a relative thereof has forced enough people to become relatively immune by death, disease or vaccination, it will likely become endemic in much of the world,” Dr. Kolff concluded. “It’s not through with us yet and we will surely need additional vaccines and public health measures in the future. Measures that we know can save lives.”

At the time of this writing, the World Health Organization has reported 4.4 million new cases and 2.6 million new cases and just over 67,000 new deaths for the last week of August. These numbers track with the week prior, and overall show a steady increase throughout the past two months.. 

The virus has now led to millions of deaths and counting, with untold further damage to livelihoods and economies. Given that it is poised to become endemic in most countries—due largely to either abject failure of government leadership or lack of vaccine availability—these numbers are guaranteed to grow, and substantially at that. 

There is an uncanny similarity between the events of Kabul this month and the United States’ departure from Saigon in 1975.  Images of U.S. personnel and Vietnamese allies climbing a ladder to the top of the American embassy to catch military helicopters were strikingly similar to the videos of American planes taking off from Kabul airport with passengers clinging on its wings. Only the first took place in Vietnam half a century ago.

Those shocked by the U.S. departure from Afghanistan should not be, even while observing the lack of planning and chaos with which U.S. citizens were evacuated as well as the callous treatment that its Afghan allies encountered in the face of a dire future. Some ask why the United States left Afghanistan after spending more than $1 trillion in defense and losing thousands of its own soldiers there. And how was Washington able to reach an agreement with the Taliban, despite the fact that all what they represent as a political group and movement contradicts so sharply with the principles that the United States and the West claim to uphold.

The American decision to withdraw from Afghanistan comes with its increased pivot toward Asia and from confronting China as a rapidly rising political and economic power. This provides some context, but more definitive and pressing political considerations have shaped U.S. decisions and policies over the past decades, regardless of the partisan affiliation of the country’s president or the elected majority in Congress. These considerations have persisted, largely unchanged, since America’s emergence as a world power in the aftermath of World War II.

The first involves assessing the expected gains or losses in making any political decision. In essence, American foreign policy is guided by the same principles that underpin U.S. economic policy, which is calculating profits and risk and prioritizing markets over people. Yet others ask, how then has Washington abandoned all its investments in Afghanistan? The answer lies in the short cycle of elections embedded in its political system. The national presidential election recurs every four years, with term limits capped at eight years. In Congress, some elections occur at even closer time intervals, every two years. This is also the case in state elections.

The recurrent and frequent elections drive politicians to consider most issues and consequences of their decisions in the short term, discounting the events and decisions of the past. President Biden, a Democrat, decided to withdraw from Afghanistan in order not to accrue more material expenses or suffer more human losses. In doing so he was looking forward not encumbered by the decision to intervene in Afghanistan or not in the first place—a decision Republican President George W. Bush made years ago. Biden in short applied the material, economic logic of not wasting more money on a failed project, or as is said in market parlor “throwing good money after bad money”. With the potential of gaining profits in Afghanistan farfetched, his goal was simply to reduce future costs, which is precisely what the Republican president Gerald Ford did in Vietnam.

Needless to say, the chaos and disorder that accompanied the withdrawal process in Kabul has left a bad impression on the image of the United States and the performance of the current administration; both with respect to the hasty departure of American and foreign diplomats often without Afghan supporters, as well as the surrender of the country to the Taliban, some of whose leaders were once locked away in Guantanamo Bay. President Biden nevertheless came out to affirm with conviction that he stood “squarely behind” the decision to exit Afghanistan as a commitment to America’s interests. He clearly sensed how psychologically exhausted the American people are from the United States’ extended military confrontations in foreign counties, especially given the difficulty in justifying continued U.S. presence in Afghanistan in the absence of a direct threat or strategic partnership.

Biden also expressed that the United States would prevail over the short-term tarnishing of its image and that the international community will not be able to shun or dispense with America. Former Secretary of State Madeleine Albright also once described her country as indispensable. Noteworthy as well however are Henry Kissinger’s assertions that recent events clearly illustrate that U.S. power, wealth, and endurance has its limits, and that its mistakes are highly costly and consequential.

There is no doubt about the power and wealth of the United States, and this fact will make many countries continue to seek close ties with Washington despite recent Afghanistan developments. And there have been and will continue to be benefits for many countries in having constructive relations with America. However, America’s actions and priorities have always been and will continue to be its short-term national interests and material gains of today and tomorrow.

The more important question that should be asked, and which surprisingly is not being posited, is why American friends and allies continue to have unrealistic expectations about the United States. We should rather question the consistency of American positions—their limitations and costs and benefits—in order to optimally manage our reactions in light of the irrationality of being over-dependent on the United States.

In all candidness, if choices have to be made, America will not hesitate to make decisions at the expense of even friends and allies. Therefore, while cooperation with America is necessary, exaggerated reliance on it is a grave mistake. I believe for most countries, national and regional engagement is the best path forward in the medium and long terms; countries can share capabilities and ambitions and engage with each other in ways that directly respond to their realities on the ground.

Moreover, after the invasion of Iraq and Afghanistan, and other costly and unsuccessful military entanglements, the United States should finally appreciate that great-power conflict in a strategic paradigm is one thing, and that addressing local and regional issues as well as altering the social composition of other countries is another thing entirely.

The United States must also learn from its mistakes, especially with regards to delusions of power and arrogance associated with material abundance. It must understand the national and regional theaters of the countries it wishes to involve itself with before entangling itself in foreign conflicts and reckless military ventures that will lead to great loss and devastation. The United States must also examine and appraise the multi-faceted means available to achieve its goals in different situations. To prevail in a military campaign does not necessarily mean victory in war; nor does military action resolve every issue or achieve every objective. In most cases, force is not the best option especially given many other available incentives that are mutually beneficial to all involved parties, particularly if the United States is truly promoting and cultivating a centrist stable global community.

The 32^nd Olympic games in Tokyo began one year after they were initially scheduled due to the COVID-19 pandemic and the complications it posed. For the most part, the past tournaments have convened regularly; the only exceptions were in 1916, 1940, and 1944 when they coincided with the two World Wars. At other times, the Olympics was held under difficult political circumstances. In the 1936 Berlin Olympics, for example, Hitler used the games as a platform to showcase the superiority of the German-Aryan race. This greatly clashed with both ascendent notions of social solidarity at the time and liberation movements struggling against European colonialism. In 1980, the Moscow games took place while the Soviet-Afghan war was in full force, which the United States boycotted in protest.

Pierre de Coubertin established the modern Olympics as an organization for international sports competition, far removed from politics. Although Coubertin’s ambitions and dreams have been largely realized, the Olympics has not always fully succeeded in isolating itself from politics. In 1933 for example, the German leadership was reluctant to attend the gold medal ceremony of Jesse Owens, the famed African American runner, on account of his race, despite being treated with respect and sportsmanship by his German competitor and silver medalist, Carl Ludwig “Luz” Long. At times, individual action has transcended the political situation. In 1968, during the medal ceremony, the two American runners Tommie Smith and John Carlos, raised their fists in a black-power salute, protesting the abuse and racism rampant in their country. Over the years, regional rivalries have also played out on the Olympic arena, particularly between the Arabs and Israelis.

It is naïve to expect sports and social events of this size and magnitude to remain isolated from the conditions that impact countries, communities, peoples, and individuals at a specific place and time. Politics, the economy, and social and security issues affect one another, and increasingly so in the age of globalization. The Tokyo games highlighted how connected and inter-dependent the world really is. The issues of our era are truly global in nature, so much so that any attempt to separate states from each other, however large the barriers, is futile. The fact that the tournament was postponed and then convened without spectators and crowds is evidence that contemporary issues raised by the pandemic affect everyone. Solutions to these issues require collective and comprehensive engagement, particularly in matters of the environment, health, natural resources, and desertification, which are not confined to borders and exercise no restraint in the scale of damage they can cause.

There are other useful lessons to learn from the Tokyo games. As athletes must adhere to tenet of honorable, friendly competition, so too must those same principles become embedded in the relations of states with each other. Athletes agree to accept the outcome of competition, whether that is a win or a loss. They agree to respect the game’s rules, such as staying inside set boundaries like lanes in swimming or accepting penalties in soccer—these constitute the shared, agreed-upon rules and rights of their sport. Similarly, the international system itself requires rules such as state sovereignty in order to function properly. As of late, China’s ascendancy to the second largest economy in the world at the expense of Japan was a test of that system. However, Beijing’s economic competition with the United States is a fiercer, more contentious issue because it brings to the fore concepts of American exceptionalism, which runs counter to multilateralism.

Every system is liable to adjustment. Even the International Olympic Committee, for example, has added new sports to the roster of permitted games. So does the international governance system renew its laws and rulers and has set forth individual human, social, and economic rights, despite its establishment as a system that regulates relations between nation states. This system should be further adjusted to achieve a fairer balance among countries—one example would be to modify how membership is established within the U.N. Security Council—and between individual and social rights to guarantee that stability is preserved. The striking imbalance in the distribution of COVID-19 vaccines internationally, most especially in Africa, is an example of inequitable international conduct at the detriment of earnest efforts to create a sound and stable international order.

With regards to the athletes present this year at the Olympics, there have been two issues. First, the participation of Palestinian and Syrian athletes on the Refugee Olympic Team reminds us once again of contested regional conflicts. They represent some of the largest and oldest refugee diasporas globally. It is time for real efforts to address the plight of these two Arab populations.  Second, more and more athletes are afflicted by mental health issues. World gymnastics champion, Simone Biles, withdrew from the Olympics to focus on her mental health. The Japanese tennis champion Naomi Osaka withdrew from the French Open, citing depression.

When mental health issues translate on a larger, political scale, it demands our attention. The upheavals in Eastern Europe of the 1990s, the Arab world in the 2010s, as well as anti-police brutality protests in the United States last year, reflect a general societal unease about governance. The psychological and mental wellbeing of citizens can be realized through looking after their interests and striving for justice. This must not be ignored, no matter how powerful or rich societies become. One pathway is efficient and rational political rule that is in tune with the people and their needs.

Athletes from the island of Bermuda and San Marino who clinched bronze and silver medals—even as representatives of the smallest countries in the Olympics—embody a story of hope and optimism. For individuals and small countries facing large ones, this victory shows that seemingly unattainable dreams can be realized through determination and a disciplined work regime. One can learn from East Asian communities, who have proved themselves in the fields of technology and science, both in their home countries and the diaspora working in the major industrial countries. Their success is a testament to their personal discipline and commitment. The remarkable economic success and social integration of the small peninsula of Singapore is another case from which to learn.

The international community faces a long marathon of challenges and obstacles before it can achieve in international relations what de Coubertin achieved for the Olympics. Yet, perhaps we can emerge from this Olympic moment—held with protective measures, social distancing, and a few spectators—with the deep-rooted conviction that many of the dangers our world is facing are shared and that dealing with them requires work, cooperation, and sincere competition, all in the pursuit of a balance between the interests of the individual, the nation, and the global community.

Ten years of war has brought about untold suffering to the Syrian people; more than 500,000 have died and, according to the World Bank, more than half the country’s population has either immigrated or is internally displaced. 60 percent of its pre-2011 gross domestic product (GDP) has been lost, and today, more than 80 percent of the population is living below the poverty line compared to only 10 percent in 2011. The World Food Programme (WFP) estimates that 14.2 million out of the 16 million that remain in the country are considered food deficient. The United Nations Children’s Fund (UNICEF) reports that 2.4 million children have no formal education compared to 2011, when primary school enrollment was at 97 percent. Since 2011, 40 percent of the education infrastructure has been destroyed. To summarize the extent of the calamity in a single figure, it is estimated that the economic cost of the Syrian civil war exceeds $1 trillion. 

The conflict in Syria did not just happen—it was waiting to happen. Underlying factors were brewing for some time. Both internal problems as well as regional dynamics converged to bring about this tragic fate to the Syrian people, and the Arab Spring was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

To end this tragic conflict, first we need to clearly identify the internal and external factors that caused, and later exacerbated the Syrian conflict, and second, we need to find a means to generate mutually reinforcing internal and external dynamics that allow for positive movement on a political settlement.

While internal factors, or grievances, were the principal causes of the uprising of the Syrian people in 2011, it was the external factors, manifested in foreign interventions, which transformed it into a full-fledged conflict and proxy war. Therefore, a political settlement is now possible only if all forms of foreign interventions are squarely addressed. Only then will it be feasible to reach a political settlement among Syrians.

In this first part of two installments, I will tackle both the domestic and external factors that have exacerbated the situation. The second part will explore how to generate an internal dynamic that produces a domestic critical mass in support of orderly change in Syria as well as an external dynamic that best deals with foreign interventions. The interaction of both dynamics should accelerate a political settlement.

Domestic Disturbances

Foremost among the domestic factors that caused the conflict to erupt is the nature of the political system that has been ruling Syria for decades. It is a system caught in a time warp, which refuses to exhibit the flexibility and imagination required to deal with the grievances and aspirations of its people and is unable to navigate the treacherous, and sometimes conflicting, currents and forces shaping the unfolding international order which has been in transition since the abrupt fall of the Berlin Wall in 1989. In the past three decades, the world has witnessed globalization and insular nationalism; liberal economic policies and increased state intervention; open, and free trade and increased protectionism; increased movement of peoples across borders and erection of barriers, both physical and institutional, to stop the flow; free flow of information and the malicious manipulation of such information; unprecedented wealth coupled with what could be possibly be the most skewed income distribution in history; uncertainty from the wanton use of force, whether through endless conflicts or and terrorism; economic and political marginalization, environmental degradation, and now, pandemics. 

A single political party, the Baath party, has dominated the scene for over fifty years, thus stifling any opportunity to channel the mounting grievances. Without these channels, the population found solace in communities—ethnic, religious, or tribal—thereby undermining the very fabric of the cohesive yet multi-dimensional character that has characterized Syria over centuries. When the conflict broke out, this dangerous trend accelerated.

The failures of the system were compounded by adverse economic factors. Prior to 2011, Syria was a case of uneven development, where the government pursued policies designed to achieve high rates of growth without undertaking complementary political reforms required to sustain such policies. Without the necessary transparency and adequate distributive measures, corruption and the creation of crony capitalists—who exploit the economic reforms to further their narrow interests—become the dominant features of the system. As a result, popular grievances multiply. Moreover, a prolonged drought from 2007-2010 accelerated migration into already crowded cities, inflaming the resentment of the rural poor toward wealthier urbanites. A widening gap between the rich and poor, triggered by the liberal economic policies pursued by the government, created social tensions that the sclerotic political system could not address.

To avoid making the necessary political reforms, the government also brandished its revolutionary credentials by emphasizing resistance to Israel and espousing anti-Western policies to divert the attention of its domestic base away from demands for reforms. 

Taking its cue from a policy adopted by Nasserist Egypt, Damascus divided the population into Ahl Al Thiqa (the Trustworthy) and Ahl Al Khibra (the Experienced, i.e. professionals) thereby emphasizing loyalty over competence in an environment of an oversized public sector and lack of sufficient numbers of subject matter experts among the loyalists. This was probably the beginning of the regime’s reliance on the Alawites—a historically under-privileged off-shoot sect of Shiism to which President Hafez Assad belongs and which constitutes around 12 percent of the Syrian population. Gradually, the Alawites took control of the levers of political power—army, security services, and government bureaucracy—and to a lesser extent economic power, leaving the rest of the population playing an increasingly marginal role.

A growing resentment toward the Alawites resulted. This was seized upon by the Muslim Brotherhood (MB), which had been waiting to take its revenge since the brutal suppression of the Islamist campaign of violence which culminated in the 1982 uprising in the northern Syrian city of Hama in which up to forty thousand are estimated to have been killed. 

A profound schism in society, borne of the role of religion in the Syrian state, is a further complicating factor. The overwhelming majority of Syrians appreciate that the role of religion is to manage the relationship between the individual and God, but not the individual and the state. However, a small vocal and activist minority are intent on establishing an Islamic state. 

The lack of a coherent and credible opposition further complicated matters. Except for the short- lived Damascus spring in the period 2000-2001, no effective internal opposition was allowed to emerge. In these circumstances, once the uprising erupted, an opposition emerged abroad. However, the majority of this external opposition quickly became subject to the influence of its regional and international backers. Thus, it was unable to articulate a clear and realistic national agenda that could find domestic resonance. Regrettably, the more realistic segments of such opposition failed to gain adequate regional and international support.

Regional and International Dynamics

If domestic drivers led to the 2011 uprising, it was foreign interventions which exacerbated the situation, transforming it into a full-fledged conflict and proxy war among regional and global rivals. There is a need, therefore, to analyze the factors that have caused these foreign interventions.

Syria is at the center of a region already replete with conflicts fueled by external interventions. It is also part of an Arab World which, regrettably, possesses no coherent vision of its common interests and, at the same time, lacks an effective regional mechanism for conflict resolution. This is primarily the result of a lack of leadership, largely arising from the dispersal of the sources of power—economic, political, military and ideological—among different countries.

Under these conditions, the Gulf states were persuaded that the primary threat to their security was Iran and that regime change in Syria—Iran’s main ally in the region—was the best means to address this threat.

Meanwhile, the one Arab country that could have taken the initiative in finding a political solution—Egypt—was distracted by putting its house in order after the tumultuous events of the period 2011-2013. 

Additionally, at this time, Turkey believed that dominating Syria was key to expanding its regional influence. This became all the more important when the Muslim Brotherhood, one of Turkey’s its main instruments used to spread influence in the region, was removed from power in Egypt in 2013. It therefore became imperative for Ankara to expand its influence to another key Arab country: Syria—chosen because Iraq was in chaos and Saudi Arabia was beyond reach because of its special relationship with Washington. Ankara initially reached out to Assad in an effort to convince him to cooperate in bringing about the change that would have propelled the Turkish client, the Muslim Brotherhood, into the circles of power in Damascus. However, Turkey quickly reversed course when it became obvious that Muslim Brotherhood rule in Egypt was coming to an end. A friendly regime in Damascus became all the more essential to furthering Turkey’s interests in the region as a means to enhance its international standing within the unfolding international order.

On the other hand, Israel, while facing no real direct threat from Syria since the 1974 Disengagement Agreement which stabilized the military situation on the Syrian Golan Heights after the 1973 War, was wary of the mounting influence of Tehran on its northern neighbor. Israel did not, however, view this as enough of a threat to warrant military action on its part. Once the conflict erupted, Israel was content that a Syria distracted by a protracted but contained internal conflict would further reduce a potentially critical threat to its security. No doubt the resulting increased Iranian military presence was a source of concern. But as the past few years have demonstrated, it was a threat that could be managed through selective aerial targeting of Iranian and Hezbollah military assets in Syria together with providing support to opposition armed groups across the border in the Golan Heights.

Iran also believed that threats to its security were more effectively addressed by confronting them outside its borders. This forward defense policy explains its expansionist and destabilizing regional policies. These policies were reflected in Iran’s work to ensure a friendly regime would rule in Damascus to protect its lifeline to Hezbollah, a key deterrent against its main adversary—Israel. In fact, Iran exploited vacuums resulting from mistakes committed by others, be that in Iraq, Syria, or Yemen, to further its regional agenda.

At the international level, the United States, having never considered Syria a priority, viewed the country from the dual perspectives of Israel’s security and the need to confront Iran. It was therefore satisfied to let its regional allies and friends—namely Israel, Turkey, and the Arab countries in the Gulf—to do its bidding. Initially, the U.S. military’s role was limited to providing arms and training to some groups of the Syrian armed opposition—a venture that proved to be only marginally effective, if not counterproductive, in some cases. Later on, U.S. involvement escalated to the occasional missile strike and rare air attack, paired with an extremely limited presence on the ground to protect the oil fields, and some patrols undertaken in loose coordination with the Russians to prevent confrontation between the Syrian and Turkish armies and the Kurdish-dominated Syrian Democratic Forces (SDF). However, the overwhelming majority of U.S. military activities concentrated on providing intelligence, military operational planning, and logistical support to the SDF east of the Euphrates and maintaining a presence in the remote area of Tanf in southeastern Syria to block one of the supply lines used by Iran which runs from Iraq to western Syria. With this “at-an-arm’s length policy”, Washington forfeited any possibility to exercise serious influence over the evolution of the conflict.

It is also clear that, in 2011, both the European Union and the United States were convinced that Syria was the place to check and diminish Iranian influence in the Middle East. They reasoned that if one could find a way to peel Damascus away from Tehran then Iran’s influence in the Middle East would be largely reversed, or at least contained. Both the Europeans and the Americans concluded that this was only possible through regime change in Damascus, which they were convinced would take place in short order.

Meanwhile, Russia—which successfully utilized the conflict to further its global stature and regional interests—did not have the necessary instruments or regional and international influence to bring about a settlement. Initially aware of the nature of the Syrian regime and skeptical of the Arab Spring, Moscow was confident that Damascus would be able to handle the uprising, always reserving the option of military intervention to prevent the regime’s collapse. It was content to provide Damascus with the necessary military assistance and diplomatic cover in the UN Security Council. However, once the military situation appeared to turn against the government, Russia found the military intervention of Hezbollah and Iran a convenient arrangement that would spare it direct military action. Yet, in September 2015, when it appeared the Syrian regime was under serious threat, Moscow decided to intervene militarily. It was an intervention designed to minimize Russian fatalities and was therefore confined to air support, military operational planning, logistics, special operations, and intelligence. Actual combat was left to the Syrian army and its local militias with the support of Hezbollah and Iran and its militias. 

To better understand Russia’s underlying motivations, one needs to take a few steps back to gain perspective. With the departure of Russian military advisors from Egypt in 1973, Moscow had lost its most important ally in the region. Since then, it has been trying to regain at least part of its influence. Additionally, with the demise of the Saddam Hussein regime in Iraq in 1993, losing Syria to an unfriendly government would have dealt Moscow a major strategic setback. The conflict in Syria, therefore, provided an opportunity that could not be missed. Syria was Moscow’s last ally in the region. Unlike the United States, it would not abandon its friends, thereby enhancing its credibility as a reliable friend and ally. 

There was a need to prove that the Russian military had overcome its “Afghanistan Syndrome.” Moscow had not had direct military experience beyond its borders since its woeful experience in Afghanistan some thirty years earlier. The only other serious military experiences it had was the internal conflict in Chechnya from 1999-2009 and Transnistria (1992) and Georgia (2008), both of which took place just across the border. Syria also offered a rare opportunity to test new weapons as well as military techniques. 

Additionally, Russia could not accept another Islamist regime close to its southern border in the Caucuses—Moscow’s soft underbelly with a Muslim majority susceptible to extremist influences from Damascus if it were to fall to Islamists. The presence of war hardened veterans from the Chechnya conflict, and other regions of Russia, and the former Soviet Union in Central Asia made the problem more urgent. Moscow’s strategy was to defeat them outside its border. 

Moreover, the history of Russia’s relationship with both Turkey and Iran has been extremely complicated, and Syria acted as an arena to manage its complex relationships with both countries. Given the nature of these relationships, Syria offered Moscow additional leverage. 

Neither Moscow nor Washington nor, for that matter, the EU, were prepared to “dirty their hands”. The United States and the EU allowed their friends and allies in the region to manage the situation on the ground. They then carefully escalated their intervention to meet the evolving situation, but always minimized direct military presence in the areas of operations. This was also true, to some extent, for the Russians who were content to leave Iran and its militias to do the actual combat.

In short, there were a host of regional and international players who seized the opportunity to enter the Syrian theatre to further their national interests. The uprising in 2011 and the brutal reaction of the government provided external actors an excuse to arm and fund armed groups opposed to the government (many of which turned out to be extremists or even terrorists) for “regime change”. It also provided the opportunity for the supporters of Damascus in Moscow and Tehran to increase their military presence and political influence in Syria. 

Diplomatic Intervention and Progress

In such circumstances and with no agreement among local, regional, and international players on how to end the conflict, it was not surprising that the UN was unable to make progress toward a political settlement. 

Member states, in particular members of the UN Security Council, already at odds with each other over the outcome of the Council’s decisions in Libya, were disappointing in their support of UN efforts. While they supported the UN-LAS joint envoy Kofi Anna’s proposals for de-escalation, after years of impasse over the interpretation of the 2012 Geneva Communiqué—which introduced transitional governance, review of the constitutional order, elections, and accountability—and the adoption of the 2015 Security Council Resolution 2254—which contains a road map for a political settlement—they have done little else in terms of pushing the Syrian protagonists to reach a settlement.

Successive UN Special Envoys could only depend on vague verbal support from the Security Council devoid of without specific guidance or concrete ideas. The Security Council, particularly after adopting Resolution 2254, was paralyzed by the lack of agreement among its members. However, the UN Special Envoys were able to produce ideas and initiatives as well as documents that have kept the political process alive—particularly 2017’s “Twelve Living Principles”. First introduced in 2016 and evolved until adopted by the Congress of the Syrian National Dialogue, in Sochi in January 2018, these principles define the principles upon which a future Syria could be based. 

To set the record straight, Russia produced a number of initiatives, including a non-paper in the fall of 2015 on preliminary elements for a political settlement to coincide with the inception of the International Syria Support Group (ISSG). In 2017, through the Astana process, Iran, Russia and Turkey, together with the Syrian government and representatives of some of the Syrian opposition armed groups, created De-escalation Zones thereby helping to reduce the intensity of fighting. The Congress of the Syrian National Dialogue, held in Sochi in January 2018, ultimately produced the Syrian Constitutional Committee (SCC) in 2019 and adopted the “Twelve Living Principles”. Iran, on the other hand, proposed in October 2012 the “Six Point Plan” containing interesting ideas such as a transitional government to oversee presidential and parliamentary elections. Whether or not the purpose of these initiatives was merely to buy time in order to save the regime in Damascus and consolidate Moscow’s and Tehran’s military presence and political influence is a matter of debate.

China also made a number of proposals: two in 2012 and one, it appears, during its foreign minister’s July 2021 visit to Damascus. All three proposals, however, generally only contain uncontroversial principles for a settlement.

On the other hand, the United States did not independently initiate any ideas to advance the political settlement. It supported the initiatives proposed by both the Arab League, which ended with the withdrawal of Arab observers in January 2012, and the UN, which remain ongoing. U.S. cooperation with Russian produced the 2012 Geneva Communiqué and UN Security Council Resolutions 2254 (2015) and 2118 (2013)—on the removal of chemical weapons from Syria—all major landmarks in the political process. Likewise, the UK and France were content to in supporting Arab League and UN initiatives. Had these three countries generated new ideas, the prospects for a political settlement may have been greatly enhanced.

A standstill in the political process resulted. The only aspect of Resolution 2254 that gained traction was the creation of the Syrian Constitutional Committee in the fall of 2019. The SCC could have been created at least nine months earlier, at the end of 2018, however, due to disagreements between the United States, U.S. allies, and Russia, this was not the case. Interestingly, the United States fiercely resisted the creation of the SCC until December 2018, but reversed its position by the end of January 2019, likely to provide cover for President Trump’s December 2018 announcement which to withdrew U.S. troops from Syria. U.S. military disengagement needed to be justified by increased activity in the political process. At the time, the aspect of a this process that held the most promise was the Syrian Constitutional Committee.

Turkey’s position requires separate treatment. Caught between cooperating with Russia in the Astana process and its desire to influence the outcome of the political settlement separately, Ankara supported the creation of the SCC and, at the same time, undermined it. It supported the principle to appease Moscow, but at the same time, as the main sponsor of the opposition, interfered with its composition to ensure its allies in the opposition dominated the opposition delegation, and that the third delegation of neutrals, who represented civil society, did not harbor positions inimical to Turkish interests. To be fair, Damascus did the same. A composition far from ideal resulted, with an emphasis on political orientation rather than competence. It also delayed the inauguration of the SCC by at least nine months, resulting in a meeting held under less favorable conditions.

The situation persists to this day. The political process remains confined to the Syrian Constitutional Committee, which has made little headway since September 2019. On the one hand, the issues discussed are extremely complicated, and the SCC is being asked to resolve political issues which could not be resolved at negotiation held in the past eight years. On the other hand, half-hearted support, at best, from the United States and its allies for the UN’s facilitation of the SCC translated to lukewarm UN engagement in the process, appearing to some, at times, that every smallest disagreement or challenge is used to stall the work of the Committee. 

In the meantime, the government in Damascus continues to operate according to the present constitution. Presidential elections were held in May, and in July, President Assad was sworn in for a fourth term. The external opposition remains beholden to the illusion that the regime in Damascus will be removed. Regional and international players are still unable to agree on how to bring about a settlement. Thus, the Syrian people continue to pay an increasingly heavy price.

Throughout the last eight years, Turkish–Egyptian relations have been at historic lows. Many people have pointed to Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan’s Islamist ideology and personal affinity with the Muslim Brotherhood (MB) as the root cause of the tension. However, at a time when Erdogan has accelerated his Islamist kulturkampf (conflict between religious and civil authorities) at home, he now also pursues a rapprochement with Egypt abroad. 

This might be surprising for those who assume that Turkey has a consistently-applied and ideologically-driven foreign policy. On the contrary, Turkish foreign policy in general—and toward the Middle East in particular—has been shaped by interest-driven pragmatism and domestic political considerations. Thus, both Turkey’s tensions with Egypt and its recent attempts at rapprochement have more to do with Erdogan’s domestic political calculations and regional ambitions than his personal ideological leanings.

Turkey’s involvement with the Middle East has steadily increased since the Justice and Development Party (AKP) came to power in 2002. Contrary to the most common assumptions, the early attempts by the AKP government to increase Turkish presence in the Middle East did not have a revisionist agenda. 

In fact, in the first decade of the 2000s, Erdogan’s foreign policy stayed in line with Turkey’s traditional foreign policy approach. That is, Ankara maintained a role of neutrality in the Middle East and a close alliance with North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO) member states.

This mantra of “zero problems with the neighbors”, made popular by former-AKP Foreign Minister Ahmet Davutoglu, was in fact a declaration of the Turkish intention to uphold the status quo. This policy pointed to Turkey’s willingness to cooperate with a diverse range of actors who had different and often conflicting ideologies, agendas, and political orientations. Relations with these actors were mostly driven by trade and a mutual need for economic cooperation. 

All of these general tendencies in foreign affairs were in line with the AKP’s domestic agenda, in which the party emphasised economic development rather than identity politics. The main domestic ally of the AKP during this period was Western-leaning Islamists and political liberals, who were also supportive of Turkey’s trade-based “zero problems” approach to foreign affairs.

In line with this overall regional policy, Turkey had good relations with the Mubarak regime in the early 2000s. During this time, ideological tensions remained between the AKP and the MB, as the latter found the former too moderate. Moreover, the fact that the AKP was formed as a splinter party from Erdogan’s political mentor (and later opponent) Necmettin Erbakan’s National Vision tradition—the Turkish equivalent of the MB—created additional hostility for the MB leadership, recalling unpleasant memories for the MB of the 1996 splinter of the Wasat party.

Uprisings Across the Mediterranean

Since the Arab Uprisings first started in Tunisia in 2010–2011, the AKP’s approach to the Middle East has radically changed. At home, Erdogan was at the apex of his power following his third consecutive electoral victory in 2011. He started to backtrack from his alliance with the liberals, as he no longer felt he needed their support, and preferred instead to concentrate power in his own hands in an increasingly personalistic style of governance. 

The AKP leadership was convinced they had to seize the “historic moment” and declare Turkey to be the regional hegemon which would transform the Middle East and North Africa in its mold. Claiming that Turkey—with its successful blend of Islam, democracy, and market economics—was the model for the Arab world, Erdogan embraced the uprisings. From that point on, much more cordial relations were established between the MB and AKP elites, and Turkey began to support the MB and its offshoots in Turkish regional politics.

It was the AKP leadership who convinced the MB to field a candidate in the 2012 Egyptian presidential elections, although the MB had earlier pledged not to do so. When Mohammad Morsi was elected the Egyptian president, the relations between the two countries reached historic highs. Erdogan and Davutoglu expected that an emerging Turkish–Egyptian axis would dominate the region. 

2013: The Year that Changed Everything

This picture once again shifted in 2013, when Morsi was ousted. The removal of Morsi from the government was certainly a shock to Turkey’s foreign policy strategy, as it was a major reaction to new power arrangements following the events of early 2011.

More significantly, Morsi’s ousting took place in the summer of 2013, when the AKP also witnessed its most serious domestic challenge since coming to power in 2002.

Growing public unrest among the Turkish secular middle classes with Erdogan’s increasingly personalized and authoritarian ruling style led to an eruption of mass protests when Erdogan declared his intention to transform a small park in central Istanbul into a luxurious shopping mall. 

Known as the Gezi Park Protests, the demonstrations unexpectedly spread overnight on May 28, 2013 to the entire country. Furthermore, in the first weeks of the protests Erdogan had difficulty mobilizing conservative masses in his favor; even his own party heavyweights disagreed with his harsh reaction against the Gezi Park movement. 

While the protests continued across the country well into the late summer and autumn of that year, Erdogan gradually managed to mobilize his base by claiming that the Gezi Protests were internationally orchestrated events aimed at toppling his government in the way that the MB had been removed in Egypt. When Erdogan and his Gulenist allies—an Islamic congregation with clear pro-Western policy orientation—fell out in late 2013, once again posing a threat to Erdogan’s power, his discourse of an international conspiracy against his Islamic-leaning government became even more instrumental.

Throughout 2013, Erdogan saw an opportunity in the plight of the MB members in Egypt. Knowing he needed to create a parallel between the events in Egypt and Turkey in order to mobilize his own conservative masses, Erdogan threw in with the MB and allowed many dissenting, MB-supporting Egyptians to stay in Turkey. 

His main message to his conservative constituency was—if they do not want to meet the same demise as the MB in Egypt—they should stand by Erdogan and the AKP. Any petty grievances between his supporters could be buried in the face of the existential threat the AKP and he, their leader, was facing. 

In a way, the more the MB suffered, the clearer the message of Erdogan became. As a matter of course, he opted to allow Turkish relations with Egypt to deteriorate rather than mediate between the new regime and the MB. 

From that point on, support for the MB became an issue of domestic politics, as Erdogan increasingly utilized the rhetoric of safeguarding the oppressed Muslim Brotherhood members and appropriated the four-finger Rabia symbol for his own political propaganda. 

Verbal attacks on Egypt’s new President, Abdel Fattah El-Sisi, became one of Erdogan’s favourite speech topics, and he created parallels between domestic Turkish opposition and the Egyptian president by arguing that both were pawns of a global conspiracy against Sunni Muslim political movements.

In the years that followed, tensions deepened as the two countries stood on opposing sides of various regional conflicts. In Libya, the eastern Mediterranean, and the Qatar crises, El-Sisi and Erdogan have been in opposition. 

Moreover, the Turkish military presence in Somalia and Syria, Ankara’s attempts to get a foothold on the Red Sea through a ninety-nine year old rent of the Suakin Island from Sudan, and Turkey’s cordial relations with Ethiopia were further actions that raised eyebrows in Cairo.

A Lopsided Rapprochement

In recent months, this picture has begun to change as several signs of a rapprochement between Turkey and Egypt have emerged. 

Following behind-the-door contacts between diplomatic and intelligence personnel, the first official bilateral meeting in years took place on May 5 in Cairo. While such a rapprochement might be to the benefit of both countries, it is clear that Turkey is more interested in mending the fences with Egypt than the other way around. Egypt, on the other hand, has put several conditions on the table without entirely closing the door. 

There are two factors that led to the Turkish push toward rapprochement with Egypt. First, Turkish efforts toward rapprochement with Egypt are part of a larger foreign policy adjustment triggered by Turkey’s increased isolation in regional politics. 

Turkey  has especially felt its isolation in the eastern Mediterranean conflict. Ankara has, for a long time, had maritime border issues with Athens, which have been further exacerbated by Turkish-Cyprus tensions. 

Turkey does not recognize the Republic of Cyprus as one entity and instead claims that the island is composed of two countries: a Greek state in the south and a Turkish state in the north. The latter has been recognized only by Turkey following its 1974 invasion of the island. These decades-old problems with Greece and Cyprus worsened when large gas fields were discovered starting in 2009 in the eastern Mediterranean. The maritime borders suddenly became economically important, as they would decide the possessor of the newly discovered natural gas. 

Moreover, as a result of its informal alliance with MB networks, Turkey now has bad relations with almost all of the littoral eastern Mediterranean states—Egypt, Israel, Syria, and partially Lebanon—and was excluded from the East Mediterranean Gas Forum headquartered in Cairo despite the fact that Turkey has the longest coastline in the eastern Mediterranean.

In an attempt to break its isolation, Turkey has signed a maritime border agreement with the United Nations (UN)-recognized Government of National Accord (GNA) in Libya, in which it claimed an expanded exclusive economic zone in exchange for military support to the GNA. However, in doing so, it denied the exclusive economic zones of Greek Islands such as Rhodes and Crete, which violates the International Law of the Sea, and also intersected with the Egyptian–Greek maritime border agreement.

In the context of this agreement, Turkey deployed unmanned aerial vehicles (i.e. drones), armored vehicles, and military personnel and intelligence officials in training and advisory roles to Libya. Turkey also established at least one military training base in Libya and brought in mercenaries from Syria. Although there is no official count of mercenaries transferred, estimates range wildly from three thousand to sixteen thousand. These interventions changed the course of the civil war in Libya and enabled the GNA to protect itself and expand its area of control.

Moreover, the agreement interfered with a proposed pipeline that would transfer eastern Mediterranean natural gas to Europe. In the summer of 2020, Turkey started its own gas explorations in its claimed maritime borders and deployed its navy to protect the exploration ships. Thus, Turkey significantly raised tensions in the eastern Mediterranean. Further explorations conducted by Greece and Cyprus were temporarily halted and falling gas prices have proved the pipeline project to be unviable. 

However, Turkey is still keen on entering the ranks of the EastMed Gas Forum, and that requires improving relations with the coastal countries. Turkish rapprochement with Egypt has been paired with similar attempts with Israel.

In addition to its isolation on the Mediterranean, Turkey has become diplomatically cut off from much of the Arab world. The Turkish policy of leveraging MB networks during the Arab Uprisings led to the creation of two opposing blocs in the Middle East in addition to the traditionally Iranian-led bloc. 

On the one hand, there were coalesced Arab regimes that considered both Iran and the MB as regional threats. This first group, called the Arab Quartet, consisted of Egypt, Saudi Arabia, Bahrain, and the UAE. Another group, led by Turkey and Qatar with MB network support, opposed the Arab Quartet. Tensions between these two blocs reached a boiling point in 2017 when the Arab Quartet countries imposed an embargo on Qatar. Turkey sided with Qatar, consolidating their alliance.

This regional polarization began to soften with the recent Al-Ula agreement between Qatar and the Arab Quartet that ended the four Arab nations’ blockade on Qatar. This rapprochement created further incentives for Turkey to mend its relations with the Quartet countries. As such, Turkey’s attempts at a rapprochement with Egypt are part of a larger process where Turkey aims to better relations with Saudi Arabia and the UAE and end a period of intense regional rivalry. 

As a sign of this desire, Ibrahim Kalin, the presidential spokesperson and chief advisor to Erdogan on foreign affairs, recently declared that Turkey respects the Saudi court decision with regard to the Khashoggi murder trial. This represents a major reversal, as it was Ankara which leaked the evidence that linked the Khashoggi murder to the Saudi crown prince Mohammad bin Salman (MBS). Kalin’s statement is an attempt to appease the Saudi leadership; however, it seems that the Saudis have stipulated a Turkish–Egyptian rapprochement as a prerequisite for a larger rapprochement with Saudi Arabia and the UAE.

While this regional context seems to have prompted a cost-benefit analysis of sustaining tensions with Egypt, these calculations are also further boosted by domestic and global developments, as seen from Ankara. 

Domestically, a new coalition has emerged in Turkey, wherein Erdogan is ruling alongside the conservative-nationalist Nationalist Action Party (MHP) and Avrasyacilar, or the Eurasianists. The Eurasianists—secular ultra-nationalists with a strong focus on anti-Westernism—are considered to be the architects of Turkey’s expansionist “Blue Homeland Doctrine”. This doctrine argues that Turkey’s claimed continental shelf, which stretches from the Black Sea across the Aegean to the Eastern Mediterranean, constitutes a maritime sphere of influence that must be protected. In line with this doctrine, Eurasianists are also major supporters of Turkey’s maritime agreement with Libya. They prioritize the eastern Mediterranean conflict and consider Greece and Cyprus Turkey’s primary rivals. This prioritization requires Turkey to mend fences with other eastern Mediterranean countries, namely Egypt and Israel.

The Eurasianists’ main political platform, the Patriotic Party (VP), consistently gets less than 1 percent in elections. However, in Turkish politics not everything is about electoral representation. Groups coalesce within the security and bureaucratic apparatuses of the government and oftentimes hold a huge sway of influence over ruling administrations and sitting heads of state. In the Eurasianists’ case they are overly represented in the security apparatuses, particularly within the Turkish navy. Historically, there have always been a small group of Eurasianist officers within the military. Their influence has increased in the wake of the failed July 15 coup and the subsequent purges within the military that have mostly targeted the NATO-serving Turkish officers.

While it is important not to exaggerate the power of the Eurasianists in designing today’s Turkish foreign and security policy, they propagate a political discourse on foreign affairs that is equally beneficial for the AKP’s domestic political agenda. This narrative is based on conspiratorial anti-Westernism and is in line with Erdogan’s claim that all the political and economic crises that Turkey is undergoing is due to a worldwide (i.e Western) conspiracy to prevent the rise of Turkish power.

At the global level, the Biden administration is creating tumultuous change in the Middle East, with significant effects on Turkish foreign policy. First of all, Erdogan will no longer be able to rely on the free card he received from Trump. Relying on his personal bond with Trump, Erdogan managed to avoid American reaction to Turkey’s aggressive and militarized foreign policy moves.

The Biden administration is keen on exerting pressure on Erdogan in an attempt to subdue Turkey’s recent aggression in foreign affairs. Both of these facts hold true for other leaders in the region, including Sisi and MBS. Biden will accelerate the long-awaited American withdrawal from the region, pushing regional actors to readjust their foreign policy positions. Such a global context provides incentives to all parties for a settlement of the region’s main problems. 

Challenges to Reconciliation

While Turkey is intent on mending bilateral relations and there is a mutual benefit for Egypt, the road to a better future for Egypt and Turkey is filled with several obstacles. Three issues are on the table: Turkey’s ongoing patronage of the MB and its offshoots; conflicting approaches to the Egyptian–Greek alliance in the eastern Mediterranean; and Turkish intervention in Libya as an extension of the eastern Mediterranean problem.

Solving the Mulism Brotherhood Conflict

Those who perceive ideology as key to Erdogan’s decision making mistakenly consider the MB as the main obstacle to rapprochement. It is not. 

Erdogan’s foreign policy has shown reckless pragmatism on various fronts, and he can easily backtrack if he sees the benefit. Yet, it is true that both countries stand at polar opposite positions in their treatment of the MB.

For Turkey, the MB is a respected Islamic organization with which Turkey has cordial relations, while in contrast, Egypt defines the MB as a terrorist group and demands that Turkey extradite its members. In the framework of upcoming negotiations, Erdogan and his government will not be able to meet such a maximalist demand. Rather, he should push for a centrist solution that could potentially be more appealing to the Egyptian government.

Accordingly, senior MB leaders living as Erdogan’s guests would have to leave Turkey for a third country, if they have not already done so. The remaining MB rank and file, which amounts to at least ten thousand people, could remain in Turkey, keeping a low profile. 

Turkey has already taken steps to curtail the media activities of the MB in Istanbul as a sign of goodwill. Given their desperate situation, the MB members will have to abide by Turkish demands. Ironically, this would mean that Sisi would delegate the burden of keeping the MB’s activities in Turkey under control to Erdogan. Such a midway solution would also enable Erdogan’s Islamist constituency to swallow the bitter pill of abandoning the MB. It might even trigger a domestic rapprochement within Egypt between the regime and the MB.

Solving the Libya Conflict

Libya, on the other hand, constitutes a much more difficult challenge in the way of rapprochement, but it also provides certain opportunities. Both sides have realized that they are not able to solely shape the course of events in Libya. 

Egypt has recently backtracked from supporting Haftar and instead thrown support behind the UN process. Turkey, likewise, recognized its limitations when Turkish-backed forces stopped in advance of the Sirte–Jufra line. National unity and stability in Libya are now in the interest of both countries; however, this point is more important to Egypt, which shares a 693-mile border with Libya. 

Therefore, one of Egypt’s top demands is ending the Turkish presence in the civil war-plagued North African country. Once again, mending relations with Egypt is shaped by and limited for Ankara by its own domestic political considerations and regional power balances. While Turkey intervened in Libya, attempting to break out of its isolation in the eastern Mediterranean, Turkey’s actions in the Libyan conflict also enabled Erdogan to appeal to nationalist and chauvinist tendencies at home by demonstrating the military might of Turkey and its advanced drone technology.

Were Ankara to retreat from this belligerent stance, there might be personal political costs at home for Erdogan. In order to minimize such costs, the Turkish president will try to postpone withdrawal from Libya as long as he can. At the moment, the Turkish position seems to be playing the Syrian mercenary card as a bargaining chip—as Ankara could possibly agree to withdrawing its Syrian mercenaries from Libya in exchange for the preservation of Turkish military presence there. 

However, Turkey might eventually have to withdraw entirely; in that case, Erdogan would have to frame the withdrawal not as a retreat, but instead as a victory. This is not an easy task, even for a seasoned politician like Erdogan.

Both in Libya and in relations with the MB, it is Turkey who has to make concessions. This shows that, during the rapprochement process, Turkey is negotiating from a point of weakness due to its current isolation among the regional community. Its ability to make progress in these contentious areas will depend on Ankara’s flexibility to find midway solutions to Cairo’s maximalist demands. 

Solving the EastMed Conflict

The conflict in the eastern Mediterranean is deeply linked to the Libyan crisis. The eastern Mediterranean conflict has two related, but separate, dimensions: economic and political. The economic dimension is related to the discovery of natural gas, including its drilling and transportation. The political-legal dimension refers to the delimitation of maritime borders and hence touches upon the sensitive topic of state sovereignty.

In the summer of 2020, Greece and Turkey came to the verge of military conflict due to their opposing positions in the eastern Mediterranean. Both Greece and Turkey are pushing for maximalist demands when it comes to their exclusive economic zone declarations. 

In the midst of their rivalry, Turkey conducted maritime border limitation agreements with Libya and Greece did so with Egypt. Egypt’s maritime borders had by and large been determined by a similar agreement with Cyprus. Turkey’s claims, however, are based on a shaky agreement with Libya that has yet to be ratified by the Libyan parliament. Moreover, as already mentioned, the Turkish-Libyan agreement intersects with the Greek-Egyptian agreement. Yet, this intersection takes place in the Greek economic zone, and Egypt is not necessarily harmed by the Turkish-Libyan agreement. 

Furthermore, Turkey argues that Egypt would have a larger exclusive economic zone if it had signed the maritime border agreement with Turkey instead of Greece. Meanwhile, Egypt is trying to position itself as the transportation hub of the discovered natural gas. Through its liquefied natural gas facilities, Egypt wants to process eastern Mediterranean gas and transport it to Europe. This appears more economically viable than the previously proposed pipeline projects. 

All of this means that Egypt has no interest in alienating other members of the Eastern Mediterranean Gas Forum, and any Turkish expectation that Egypt will switch to the Turkish side seems rather unlikely. The best Turkey can hope for is to carry Egypt from a pro-Greek position to a more neutral position and get Egyptian support for an observer status at the East Med Gas Forum.

Possible Future Scenarios

Turkey might have to make concessions without gaining much more than breaking its current isolation. Yet, the state of regional and global politics dictates that Turkey strives for reconciliation with its rivals, and better relations with Egypt is of the utmost priority among these rivals. 

However, given the mounting challenges ahead, the real question is whether or not Turkey has the will and the strategic capacity to pursue a long-term rapprochement. More specifically, after formulating foreign policy for domestic consumption for many years, is Erdogan ready to pay the price at home for apparent capitulations?

Taking into account the interplay between the regional developments and Turkey’s own domestic politics, we can expect three different scenarios with regard to the evolution of the rapprochement process. 

In the most optimistic scenario, Turkey manages to meet Egypt at a halfway point with regards to the MB and Turkish military presence in Libya, as outlined above. In this case, Erdogan could face some domestic costs because he will need to sell (or attempt to sell) the move as a necessary and tactical retreat to his base. Perhaps Erdogan will be able to do this by arguing that softening Turkey’s isolation in the eastern Mediterranean will ultimately help Turkey’s economic future. 

Egypt would benefit from such a rapprochement as well. While Egypt demands the extradition of thousands of MB members, this demand is not viable in practice and might raise latent tensions at home. Instead, Erdogan guaranteeing that MB will not pose a threat to Sisi’s rule might even be more preferable than Turkey’s extraditing MB members. 

A joint understanding and cooperation in Libya might help bring stability to the North African region, which is of high priority to Cairo as Libya has been unstable for over ten years. With regard to the eastern Mediterranean, Egypt and Israel are comparatively less committed to an anti-Turkish position compared to Greece and Cyprus. Egypt might then take a more neutral position in the Turkish-Greek rivalry.

In more pessimistic scenarios, Egypt could insist on a more maximalist position. Such a position would include extradition of all MB members from Turkey and the removal of all Turkish or Turkish-allied military forces from Libya without providing Turkey compensation in the East Med. Ankara would respond to such a stubborn position from Cairo with only two options: submit or resist. 

In the case of submission to all Egyptian demands, Erdogan would likely incur enormous domestic political costs. This would be the least likely outcome as Erdogan’s room to maneuver has become quite limited in domestic politics due to his declining popularity. Shows of strength in global politics and a seemingly powerful Turkey are the few remaining selling points for the AKP at home.

In the final scenario, Erdogan rejects Egypt’s maximalist demands and the rapprochement process fails without producing any tangible outcomes. In this case, Erdogan would accelerate anti-Western rhetoric at home and stick with his confrontational policy abroad not only against Egypt but against other pro-Western regimes in the region such as Saudi Arabia and Israel. 

Taking all scenarios together, we can expect a mixed outcome. Both countries have gains to make from a rapprochement and normalization of relations. Yet, a grand bargain that would bring Turkey and Egypt to the same line on all fronts seems unlikely at the moment as the problems are plenty, inextricably intertwined, and come with domestic ramifications. It would be more realistic to expect the normalization of relations and a limited rapprochement between the two countries. The extent of this limited rapprochement will be shaped by Erdogan’s domestic calculations as well as regional power balances.

Midnight in Cairo: The Divas of Egypt’s Roaring ’20s. By Raphael Cormack. W. W. Norton & Company, New York, 2021. 384 pp.

Raphael Cormack’s newest book combines serious historiography and solid, extensive archival research with an approachable, engaging style. The result is a work that is at once instructive and entertaining—that opens new ground yet does so without the impenetrable terminology and abstract theoretical positioning characteristic of some contemporary scholarship. 

Midnight in Cairo: The Divas of Egypt’s Roaring ’20s follows a timeline roughly delineated by the revolutions of 1919 and 1952. The book sheds light on a group of historical characters—only a few of whom are well known in Egypt for their artistic accomplishments or unusual lives—and shows that they were powerful agents of historical change. This may be Midnight in Cairo’s most significant contribution: to tell “an overlooked story of theatre, song, and dance that shows the modern Middle East from a different angle—not one dominated by wars, ‘intellectuals’, ‘great men’, or high politics, but by late nights in cabarets, wild music, and women calling for change.”

Cormack tells a fascinating story, and does so in a witty and understated tone. He eschews the salacious accounts, racist jabs, and arch tone of some historical fiction on Egypt. Yet it would be faint praise to focus only on Cormack’s efforts as a writer of accessible and entertaining history. He weaves a complex and rich social history, tracing connections between the evolution of social and political power dynamics, the appearance and transformation of institutions like the music hall, the spread of new technologies like the 78 phonograph record, and the diffusion of genres like the taqtuqa, light romantic songs that were popular at weddings and then gained prominence in the nightclubs of early twentieth-century Cairo.

While Midnight in Cairo is a fast-paced and easy read, Cormack does not give in to facile generalizations about his topic or the geopolitical context. Readers of Ottoman or Egyptian history may be unsurprised by erudite archive-based scholarship that nevertheless espouses orientalist tropes or leaves racist notions unquestioned; especially at the current moment, when some academics are casting fondly nostalgic glances back at the colonial period, it is heartening that Cormack manages to make accurate points about the real brutality of the British occupation of Egypt. Thus, he notes that “British accounts of the events of 1919 reveal noticeable gaps. They do not include the stories of soldiers opening fire on protestors, villages being burned to the ground, and the looting or sexual assault committed by soldiers who said they were trying to bring the country under control”.

Socially, Cormack documents all manner of transgressive behavior that would shock or at least astonish those who believe that Egyptian society was more narrowly conservative and morally straitlaced in the past than it is today. Clothing and behavior that flouted gender norms, sexually emancipated women entrepreneurs, political activism that called for the egalitarian redistribution of resources. Cormack offers his readers food for thought at every page. Nor does he paint an idealized picture of Ezbekiya, the hub of cultural and social effervescence as stated on page 57: “The dance halls and cabarets in turn-of-the-century Cairo … were obviously predicated on the commodification and exploitation of female bodies … but certain women … ended up with considerable control over their own lives and influence over others”.

Midnight in Cairo depicts widespread drug and alcohol use, women’s freedom to choose their sexual partners, a proliferation of new venues, artistic genres, and political ideas. One of Cormack’s talents lies in showing how the elements contributing to this effervescence reinforced each other and created an atmosphere of openness and possibility, even under the oppressive constraints imposed by colonial rule. 

We meet renowned characters such as Shafiqa al-Qibtiyya, the dancing and singing “queen of [the] music hall stages in the 1890s,” whose “reputation for lavish spending was as famous as her colourful lifestyle … In [an] apparent dig at the Egyptian upper class, who overwhelmingly relied on Sudanese and Nubian domestic labour, she hired a staff of Italians and dressed them in the finest tailored suits. She is also remembered for her wild generosity with money … If people could not afford to pay for her to dance at their wedding, she would do so for free, and give them enough money to pay for a luxurious honeymoon”.

Another prominent figure is Mounira al-Mahdiyya, who “would appear onstage as a man,” playing roles that “almost always had the best songs. However, theatregoers regarded one of Egypt’s most famous cabaret singers’ decision to appear onstage as a man as unusual. They were used to men dressing as women to play female parts, but not the opposite. Notices in newspapers for the performances would often entice the audiences by announcing that ‘Mounira al-Mahdiyya is appearing in men’s clothes’”.

Perhaps less familiar even to those who know the main events of this period are characters such as Ibrahim al-Gharbi, “a Nubian brothel owner [who] went through the streets of Cairo dressed as a woman, wearing a white veil on his head, makeup on his face, and jewellery on his head, arms, neck, and fingers”.

These individuals, and many others like them, add depth and texture to Cormack’s nuanced and lively account. It is difficult to imagine that anyone would fail to enjoy it—from students to established academics, from amateur historians to those interested in cultural change and social movements. This book is that rare beast: a work of serious scholarship, written with wit and sensitivity by an author with a passion for his subject, so steeped in his archival material that he can bring it to graceful, enchanting life. 

The paragraphs where Cormack describes the top singers’ fan clubs, for example, are particularly revelatory for those who imagined that only Um Kulthoum commanded fanatical loyalty in her audiences. “Although some Egyptians viewed these liberated women who were making their way into the entertainment industry at that time as corrupters of the country’s morals, many others idolised them.” 

Cormack’s observations and anecdotes are situated within broader themes of social change, class relations, and women’s rights. The shift in political atmosphere in the post-World War II period is palpable, and Cormack chooses figures such as Tahia Carioca, dancer, actress, and political activist, to illustrate the ways in which the entertainment world adapted and contributed to this transformation. 

As Egypt moved through the 1950s and into the 1960s, Cormack writes, the old world of interwar Ezbekiyya changed radically along with the rest of society. Cinema, radio, and television marginalized the cabarets in the city’s cultural life.

Midnight in Cairo leaves  readers with a sense of awe at the optimism that prevailed in the interwar period; it seems impossible today to imagine that such hope once prevailed. 

On July 8, the United Nations Security Council convened in response to a call by Tunisia, its Arab non-permanent member, to discuss Egyptian and Sudanese objections to Ethiopia’s unilateral launch of the second phase in the filling of the mega-dam reservoir—the Grand Ethiopian Renaissance Dam (GERD)—before reaching an agreement between the three riparian states.

The Council had two positions before it: the first being Ethiopia’s, which had informed Egypt and Sudan in official communication that the second stage of filling had commenced in time with the start of summer rainfall. The 18.4 billion cubic meter reservoir would take two years to fill, during which 6.9 billion cubic meters are intended to be stored in July and 6.6 billion in August 2021. This unilateral announcement came with an invitation to share information and an offer to arrive at an acceptable solution for the hydroelectric dam’s operation through progressive negotiating stages under the auspices of African Union president, Felix-Antoine Tshisekedi. Ethiopia also asserted that the right to operate the dam is an internal and technical matter and declared that negotiations should occur at the African level and no other.

The second position—the Arab one—was pushed by Egypt and Sudan and conveyed in Tunisia’ draft resolution. It called for all parties to refrain from unilateral measures and appeal negotiations to a wider framework, at the joint invitation of the African Union president and Secretary of the UN and with the presence of active observers, to reach a binding agreement surrounding the dam’s operation in six months and to enable Ethiopia to generate electricity without harming downstream countries. The resolution urged the three Nile Basin states to refrain from making any statements, or taking any action, that may jeopardize the negotiation process and called on Ethiopia to stop the second stage filling of the GERD reservoir. It also invited  the Secretary General to present reports to the Security Council on the implementation of the resolution.

Egypt and Sudan anticipated  the Security Council meeting with extensive communications with member states and UN officials. French Ambassador Nicolas de Riviere, the Council’s president for July, issued a statement that the Council does not have sufficient expertise to deal with the issue. Other statements from the UN and the United States cautioned against unilateral actions, saying that the filling complicates the progress of negotiations.

Throughout their session, Council member states called for Egypt, Sudan, and Ethiopia’s cooperation in arriving at a solution within an African framework, independent from the UN Security Council. The Norwegian delegate was the most blunt and straightforward on this point. Speakers avoided direct demands for Ethiopia to cease its unilateral activity and sufficed to call on the three riparian states to avoid actions or rhetoric that would complicate the talks. The Russian delegate, who completely avoided touching upon Ethiopian conduct, was the strongest in voicing opposition to any threat of the use of force. The U.S. ambassador pointed to the Declaration of Principles in 2015, but deliberately overlooked a draft agreement in 2020 forged under the care of the previous U.S. administration, which Ethiopia did not sign. All parties avoided discussion of the ideal goals of negotiation as well as its timeline.

Egypt issued a strong statement at the Council, and Sudan explained its position in precise and frank terms, even with regard to the somewhat different perspectives between the two. That said, both countries showed a high degree of flexibility and agreement even before the start of official discussions .They had decided to ask that negotiations be held in a broader, four-way setting given that the African talks have so far gone nowhere. However, the two countries , in the draft resolution submitted , accepted  continuing talks in the African framework, supported by the United Nations and other active observers.

Egypt and Sudan succeeded in casting light on the delicate and potentially dangerous ramifications of the GERD on their water supply, especially Ethiopia’s wish to exercise unilateral decisions on the course of the Blue Nile. But the Council deliberations in the first meeting  did not end in a proposal to change the framework of the negotiations or their present sponsor, the African Union. Neither did the Council move to support the presence of auxiliary parties to the talks, such as the United Nations or active observers. The council did not include, in its deliberations or in the statements of its members, a call to reach a binding agreement about the water release by a defined time period. All of these are elements proposed by the Tunisian resolution.

It is thus quite difficult to imagine that Egypt and Sudan were satisfied with the results of the meetings, especially since they were the ones who requested the council address this issue. Even if we observe in the coming days some international effort, whether inside the Security Council or out, to protect such as through supporting the role of observers in the negotiations or defining a timeline—there will be little cause for celebration so long as the main points of contention remain unresolved. Of chief importance is that there be joint, trilateral decisions surrounding the water release according to legally binding rules for all, complete with a mechanism to settle disputes.

In fact, a political reading of member state positions in the Security Council and the international arena indicates how difficult it is to expect binding decisions from the Council that fulfill the requests of the draft resolution. This is more apparent in light of the quotidian disputes of member states. The options available to Egypt and Sudan for recourse are dwindling , whether that means taking harsher measures or changing their tactics to facilitate and move negotiations forward. This strategy however holds great risks, for it means accepting, even implicitly, Ethiopia’s fait accompli. Consequently, sooner or later confrontation seems inevitable, unless we see a sudden and unexpected change in Ethiopia’s position.

Africa, the oldest inhabited continent on the planet, is often regarded as a monolith by the global North. But, it is far from homogenous. With a population of over 1.37 billion—over 17 percent of the world population—Africa is the second most populous continent, after Asia. It hosts forty-eight mainland countries and six island nations, comprising 20 percent of the Earth’s total land area.

An estimated two thousand languages are spoken among the fifty-four total countries. Nigeria alone boasts two hundred and fifty languages, one of the greatest concentrations of linguistic diversity in the world. Kinshasa, the capital of the Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC), is the second-largest French speaking city in the world, after Paris, France.

Spanning around 18.87 million square miles, the United States could fit comfortably three times over within the continent. However, the popular Mercator map projection, the common world map found in Western classrooms, distorts the size of land masses near the poles, leaving Africa shrunken and Canada, the United States, Russia, and Europe enlarged. 

With the mainland broken into five regions—north, central, south, east, and west—Africa is the only continent to span all four hemispheres, as both the Equator and the Prime Meridian intersect the continent.

Every region has its calling card, though they also share certain commonalities. North Africa accounts for one-third of Africa’s gross domestic product (GDP), owing largely to oil production. The region intersects sub-Saharan Africa and the Middle East and was the center of the Arab uprisings of 2011. West Africa is the most populous region, with an estimated 350 million people as of 2015. Nigeria accounts for more than half of the region’s population and is projected to be the third most populous country in the world by 2050. The West African region has a long history of post-colonial civil wars which presented obstacles to economic development. Central Africa contains the Congo Basin, which is home to the second largest rainforest in the world. East Africa is the world’s second-fastest growing region behind East Asia, with growth expected to continue for the next several years. Southern Africa is rich in mineral deposits, though eighteenth-century colonial mining enterprises triggered violent conflict throughout the continent. South Africa—the birthplace of Nobel laureate Nelson Mandela—in particular was notorious for the apartheid system that the colonial stewardship of its gold and diamonds produced. Apartheid finally ended in 1994 with the establishment of an inclusive process which saw Mandela become South Africa’s first democratically elected president.

In 2003, some social scientists began to recognize a sixth region—the African diaspora—to encourage the participation and engagement of people of African origin living outside the continent with their home countries. The five countries with the largest African diaspora population are Brazil (55.9 million), the United States (46.4 million), Haiti (10.1 million), the Dominican Republic (9.2 million), and Colombia (4.9 million).

In 2020, Africa was home to six of the world’s ten fastest growing economies—South Sudan, Egypt, Benin, Rwanda, Ethiopia, and Tanzania—according to the International Monetary Fund (IMF). Nigeria, Ethiopia, and Egypt are the most populous countries, and the continent as a whole is projected to undergo impressive population growth in the twenty-first century, nearly reaching the population of Asia by 2100. Some 60 percent of Africa’s population is under the age of twenty-five, making it the youngest continent. However, if the continent is unable to address its burgeoning youth population, it risks high youth unemployment which can lead to conflict, economic underperformance, and brain drain. According to the UN Development Programme, the success of African governments to address this population burst will be the single most important factor determining the continent’s future prospects. While presenting a policy hurdle, the African Union’s Youth Charter argues Africa’s young population is the continent’s biggest resource, offering enormous potential. This ‘youth bulge’ could provide an emerging labor force to drive domestic market creation and development, helping to meet the increasingly competitive demands of modern global markets. 

Egypt, aiming to become a vaccination manufacturing hub in Africa, is the first country on the continent to locally produce COVID-19 vaccines after starting production of the Sinovac-Vacsera vaccine, with South Africa quickly following suit.

Natural Resources

Africa has much to offer on the global stage. The continent contains around 30 percent of the world’s mineral reserves, and it is estimated that around 65 percent of the world’s diamonds are mined in Africa. The world continuously profits from Africa’s natural wealth, leading it to become a net creditor of $41.3 billion to the rest of the world in 2015. 

Aside from mineral wealth, Africa boasts numerous natural resources in need of protection. In length, the Nile River bests the Amazon by just 132 miles, for the title of longest river in the world. The Sahara Desert, the largest hot desert in the world, spans 8.6 million square kilometers, about 25 percent of the continent. 

The island of Madagascar is the world’s fourth-largest island and second-largest island country, spanning over 587,000 square kilometers. Mount Kilimanjaro is the tallest peak on the continent, standing at 5,895 meters above sea level.

At the gateway to the Sahara lies Morocco’s Noor Power Plant, the largest concentrated solar farm in the world. The plant spans 3,000 hectares, produces enough electricity to power a city the size of Prague, and provides 2 million Moroccans with a clean energy source.

Morocco’s neighbor, Algeria, is the largest country in Africa. However, only 12 percent of the country is inhabited due to the heat of the Sahara. It is also the largest exporter of liquefied natural gas on the continent, with an export volume of 16.6 billion cubic meters in 2019. Neighboring Libya is the richest African country in oil as of 2020, with 48.36 billion barrels of reserves. 

The continent is also home to the largest land migration in the world. Between one and two million wildebeest and zebras make the round trip each year from the Serengeti plains of Tanzania to Kenya, across the Mara River. Additionally, Botswana has the world’s largest elephant population, at over 130,000.

However, Africa is the continent most vulnerable to climate change and will be directly and adversely affected—food insecurity, population displacement and stress on water resources—more than others despite accounting for just two percent of world coal demand and historically negligible carbon emissions, according to The Brookings Institution. Differences in infrastructure, investment, and development today are the result of the legacies of colonialism, which play a defining role in climate vulnerabilities. 

Pop Culture & Famous Faces

Conversations surrounding the African continent often center on its economic and developmental potential. However, the continent is rich in the arts and sports which illuminate its vibrant and multifaceted culture.

Nigeria’s film industry is the second largest, in terms of output, in the world, producing around 2,500 films per year. It is the country’s largest employer after agriculture, comprising 5 percent of GDP.

Egypt hosts a unique film industry as well, earning it the moniker “Hollywood of the Middle East.” On the list of 100 best Arab films compiled by the Dubai International Film Festival in 2013, 38 are Egyptian, and 35 of those date to the golden age of Egyptian cinema, between the 1940s and 60s. The Mummy, the 1969 film by Egyptian director Chadi Abdel Salem, topped the list at number one.

No mention of the Egyptian art scene would be complete without Umm Kulthum, often referred to as “the star of the East” and “Egypt’s fourth pyramid.” A Western counterpart does not exist to compare with her sixty-year career, complete with around three hundred songs. Her voice, a contralto—the lowest type for a female—inspired some of the West’s greatest singers, such as Led Zeppelin’s Robert Plant and Bob Dylan. She drew energy from her audience. Never singing a line the same way twice, her songs could last anywhere from forty-five to ninety minutes as she indulged calls for improvisation and line repetition.

Lupita Nyong’o, a Kenyan-Mexican actress and filmmaker, began acting in her teens in Kenya and won renown for her role, and accompanying Academy Award for Best Supporting Actress, as Patsey in 12 Years a Slave. She is also well known for her role as Nakia in the Marvel film, Black Panther. Trevor Noah, a South-African born comedian, became one of the top comedians in South Africa, going on to tour in the United States and internationally. He is currently the host of The Daily Show, a popular late-night American television talk show, and author of Born a Crime, which details Noah’s experience growing up directly after apartheid.

In 2010, the FIFA World Cup was hosted by South Africa, a first for the continent. The tournament could soon return to the continent as Morocco has a confirmed bid for the 2030 Cup. This is the country’s sixth bid for hosting rights after denial in 1994, 1998, 2006, 2010, and 2026.

Egyptian football star Mohamed Salah is poised—as captain of Egypt’s national team—to lead the Pharaohs to qualify for the 2022 World Cup in Qatar. A two-time African Footballer of the Year, Salah is one of the most prolific forwards in European football with 125 goals in 203 appearances for Premier League club Liverpool.

The famous footballer, George Weah, who was named African, European, and World Player of the Year in 1995—an unprecedented achievement, became the president of Liberia in 2018.

The continent has yet to host an Olympic Games, but Dakar, Senegal will hold the postponed 2022 Youth Olympic Games in 2026, which could signal the possibility of future Olympic games being hosted in Africa.

The continent is not without its quirks. Ethiopia uses its own twelve-hour clock with two daily cycles—from dawn to dusk and another from dusk until dawn—and a thirteen month calendar system.

Africa is also home to the restaurant with the most varieties of milkshakes commercially available. Gibson’s Gourmet Burgers & Ribs in Cape Town, South Africa offers 207 varieties in all, according to the Guiness Book of World Records.

Diversity reigns on the African continent, from natural resources to sports to pop culture, leaving much to be discovered beyond the assumptions made about the continent around the world.

It is July in the second year of the Coronavirus, and suddenly Africa feels like Europe and the United States in the first months of the pandemic. Reports of infections burning through populations—and hospitals nearly buckling under pressure—are making news headlines from Johannesburg, Lusaka, and Kinshasa sound like they are being beamed in from Lombardy, New York, and London circa April and May 2020. The intensity of transmission that African states tried to avoid through early and somewhat regular lockdowns in 2020 has finally arrived. 

The irony, of course, is that this was avoidable—vaccines are available and with them COVID-19 deaths have also become avoidable. In the global North, the narrative is that the impossible has been done—vaccines for COVID-19 have been developed in under a year through massive public investment in research and development (R&D), and almost half of the populations of the United States and United Kingdom have been vaccinated. 

And then, too, for much of the rest of the world, the narrative is that the impossible cannot be done. While the coronavirus has billions in India, Brazil and Peru gasping for breath, the dominant narrative remains that it is too complicated and too cumbersome to transfer newly developed COVID-19 technologies to the south. The EU has argued, for example, that dose-sharing is a more efficient response to the COVID-19 pandemic in the global South than a proposed COVID-19 TRIPS waiver tabled by India and South Africa at the World Trade Organization (WTO) in October 2020, which aims at building local manufacturing capabilities. The waiver would exempt global South countries from intellectual property (IP) rights which have been protected since the introduction of the Trade-Related Aspects of Intellectual Property Rights (TRIPS) agreement in 1995.

On this basis, many countries in the global North have stringently opposed the TRIPS waiver, though some within this block have shifted their position in recent months as evidenced by the newly announced mRNA technology transfer hub France will be launching in South Africa to locally manufacture vaccines. It remains that a more equitable distribution of existing doses is a necessary step in addressing the pandemic of vaccine hoarding that has exploded since effective vaccines have been authorized for use. But it should not be used as legitimate grounds for blocking vital technology transfers that could help secure what Cameroonian philosopher Achille Mbembe has described as “the universal right to breathe”.

One wonders, given the speed with which mRNA technologies were developed, whether the issue is one of complexity. Perhaps a more accurate word would be sacrilege? This sentiment is captured by the words of Pfizer CEO Albert Bourla, who described C-TAP, the COVID-19 patent pooling mechanism, as “dangerous” and “nonsense” —presumably in light of the fact that it would disrupt the sacred status attributed to intellectual property rights by the 1995 TRIPS agreement. Here, it is vital to state that this status is misplaced in the context of the pandemic. As the UN’s Committee on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights (CESCR) has correctly pointed out, “intellectual property is not a human right, but a social product, having a social function”. This means that member states of the International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights (ICESCR), who have a duty to interpret TRIPS in a manner that protects public health, should consider supporting the TRIPS waiver.

These states have a legal obligation to ensure that multinational corporations domiciled in their territories do not violate the rights protected by the covenant abroad. In the time since the pandemic first hit, we have lost many lives—and have gained more infectious viral variants—while debating the “impossibilities” of technology transfer.

Vaccine Apartheid 

Two words have been become commonplace in our conversations about the management of the COVID-19 pandemic: apartheid and solidarity. The second seems to offer hope; the first, despair. Apartheid is of course frequently used to describe the unequal distribution of access to vaccines globally.

Vaccine apartheid is a now-familiar shorthand used to highlight that as of June 23, 2021 more than 2 billion COVID-19 vaccine doses had been distributed globally, with the lion’s share of 85 percent administered in high-income countries (HICs) and by contrast only 0.3% administered in low- and middle-income countries (LMICs). Vaccine apartheid is a predictable consequence of the unequal power relations between states, particularly LMICs and pharmaceutical corporations, that was brought into being with the TRIPS regimen. This imbalance in power relations was highlighted in the work of Susan K Sell, a Professor of Political Science and International Affairs at George Washington University, who has written extensively on intellectual property and international development. In the early 2000s, she vividly illustrated the importance of the human rights obligations of global pharmaceutical companies to allow the sick access to antiretroviral medications.

Mirroring the racial apartheid of the South African regime prior to 1994, access to COVID-19 vaccines has been extremely limited in those parts of the world that historian Vijay Prashad has referred to as the “darker nations”—those African and Asian countries which newly liberated themselves from colonialism and declared their vision for remaking the world anew at the Bandung Conference of 1955. This vision of Third World internationalism shared at Bandung centered on economic cooperation aimed at securing human welfare, anti-racism, and political solidarity. The interdependent nature of these important principles was echoed in two other declarations that anchored the Third World political project: 1974’s the Declaration on a New International Economic Order (NEIO) and the Alma Ata Declaration (1978). 

The close connections drawn between racial domination, technological progress and political independence are particularly striking in the NIEO, which was adopted at the Sixth Special Session of the UN General Assembly on May 1, 1974. The preamble of the NIEO declares that the international community wishes to “work urgently” to “make it possible to eliminate the widening gap between the developed and the developing countries and ensure steadily accelerating economic and social development and peace and justice for present and future generations”.

Its opening paragraph frames technological progress as something that can ensure the welfare of “the community of free peoples”, but that this potential is undermined in the context of “the remaining vestiges of alien and colonial domination, foreign occupation, racial discrimination, apartheid and neo-colonialism in all its forms” perpetuated by a “system which was established at a time when most of the developing countries did not even exist as independent States and which perpetuates inequality”.  

The solution to this, the Declaration argues, is not simply more aid and greater technology transfer, but a fundamental restructuring of political power within global governance structures. It calls for “active, full and equal participation of the developing countries in the formulation and application of all decisions that concern the international community”. 

Like the NIEO, 1978’s Alma Ata Declaration explicitly argues that the value of technological progress and the global economy lies, first and foremost, in the ability to promote human welfare. Furthermore, it argues that promoting human welfare is unlikely to occur unless both technological progress and the global economy are subject to political oversight, and in particular, democratic decision-making procedures at the global governance level that include meaningful participation by the global South. Focusing on the right to health in particular, the Alma Ata Declaration emphatically maintains that “The people have the right and duty to participate individually and collectively in the planning and implementation of their health care”.

These formulations are striking in their efforts to frame solidarity as a multi-dimensional and relational process that transforms everyone involved in it. Former President of Mozambique Samora Machel said solidarity is “not an act of charity, but mutual aid between forces fighting for the same objective” and involves both “political tasks and material support”.

His words are striking because in the context of vaccine apartheid, solidarity is more often framed as an act of giving by those who have to those who don’t, rather than a process. The ailing COVID-19 Vaccines Global Access (COVAX) initiative is perhaps the most striking example of this approach to overcoming vaccine apartheid. It is explicitly described as a “global solidarity initiative” and prioritizes providing material support to LMICs by subsidizing the price of vaccines for eligible countries and attempting to pool procurement. This objective has been undermined by the rapacious behavior of countries in the global North that have bypassed COVAX by using bilateral deals to purchase excessive amounts of vaccines in proportion to their population size—effectively monopolizing access to the already-limited global supply of vaccines.

This focus on material aid to countries that have been priced out of the market for vaccines effectively reduced COVAX to a charity mechanism. Moreover, the marginal role of the World Health Organization (WHO)—and its member states—in its decision-making structures ignores the “political tasks” that are necessary to enact solidarity. COVAX does not aim to dismantle the IP thickets that impede access to vaccines, and which have contributed to an official global death toll that has currently surpassed 4 million people. It certainly does not aim to dismantle the injustice created by the unequal control of money, power and resources that has intensified since the 1990s, and that reflects a longstanding extractivist orientation established in the colonial period, These have led to COVID-19 disproportionately damaging the livelihoods and taking the lives of racial and ethnic minorities, women, migrants, indigenous peoples, and the poor. As the extracts from the declarations above show, a commitment to this political work was encoded in the forms of internationalism that led to, and were endorsed in the Bandung Declaration, NIEO, and the Alma Ata Declaration. 

Social Vaccines

The challenge then becomes how to address Third World concerns whether another more equitable mechanism is possible. Endorsing the TRIPS waiver request submitted to the WTO by South Africa and India in October 2020 is one necessary approach. The waiver has been challenged on the grounds that it will not make a meaningful difference in increasing access to vaccine supply in the short-term, given that it will take some time for countries in the global south to build up local manufacturing capacity. A second argument is that we don’t need the waiver, as existing TRIPS flexibilities are sufficient for addressing supply shortages. These arguments miss the political and normative significance of the TRIPS waiver. 

The power of the waiver is that it sets a legal precedent in favor of prioritizing public good over profiteering, and it affirms this principle as non-negotiable and unambiguous in the context of international trade, R&D, and manufacturing practices. To borrow from Austro-Hungarian economist Karl Polanyi, it re-embeds the market in society, thereby introducing a significant normative shift in light of the neoliberal discourse that’s become hegemonic in recent years. The waiver, much like the important recommendations of the UN High Level Panel on Access to Medicines released in 2016 (and since systematically erased from initiatives to reform the global R&D landscape for essential medicines), affirms that the market works to promote collective wellbeing. It also creates legal certainty—something that currently doesn’t exist when countries in the global South attempt to use TRIPS flexibilities. This is worth implementing because the space created by discounting the threat of retaliation (on the grounds of alleged copyright infringement) can create forms of collective action and collaboration that are currently not possible in the context of the existing legal and political landscape.

From a technical point of view, patents might thus seem to be a small impediment to accessing vaccines. However, from a political and normative point of view, an IP waiver on the copyrights, industrial designs, patents and undisclosed information relevant to COVID-19 diagnostics, therapeutics, and vaccines is potentially revolutionary, as it reasserts political control over the market. This aspect of the waiver and the precedent it sets is perhaps why it is being resisted at all costs by big pharma and some powerful countries in the global North. Law functions as an important mechanism for regulating the interplay of public health and for-profit or private interest. The historical declarations cited above demonstrate that while legal reforms are a necessary component of addressing this crisis, they are insufficient. As argued by Australian social scientist Fran Baum, in addition to these reforms, an investment in “social vaccines” is needed:

“A social vaccine is a process of social and political mobilization which leads to increased government and other institutions’ willingness to intervene with interventions, applied to populations rather than individuals, aimed at mitigating the structural social and economic conditions that make people and communities vulnerable to disease, illness and trauma. While medical vaccines help develop immunity against disease, social vaccines develop the ability of communities to resist and change social and economic structures and processes that have a negative impact on health and force governments to intervene and regulate in the interests of community health.”

The vaccine apartheid has legalized racially based discrimination. Today, the TRIPS regime is implemented in a manner that means people suffer pain, discomfort, death and permanent disability because they do not have the money to pay for patented medicines, and because their governments cannot easily manufacture or import these medicines or their generic equivalents. The hoarding of vaccines in the global North, their “gifting” to the global South, and the profound hesitancy to support local manufacturing of a life-saving technology in these countries, are all part of a long and disturbing history of global capitalism, which has allowed a small group of elites the power “to foster life or disallow it to the point of death,” in the words of French philosopher Michel Foucault. It is exactly this necropolitics—this undemocratic concentration of power which dictates how people live and die—that was supposed to be challenged by the multilateral system born out of World War II and that the liberated nations of the Third World aimed to reshape. 

The TRIPS waiver offers an entry point for reversing this tide and must be supported as a matter of urgency. In tandem, we need transparent, multilateral mechanisms that allocate vaccines based on medical need—not purchasing power—and that allow governments of the global south meaningful participation in decisions about collective procurement and allocation of global vaccines supplies.

The narrative has been around for a little more than a decade: Africa is rising—and is still rising. The second-largest continent has some of the fastest-growing economies, a trend which began—and continues—long before the global financial crisis hit major economies. 

Africa weathered the storm of the 2008/09 global financial crisis, which debilitated even the most powerful economies. In 2011, two years after the crisis, figures showed six of the world’s ten fastest-growing economies were in Sub-Saharan Africa, with Angola leading the pack. China (in second position), Myanmar, Kazakhstan and Cambodia were the non-African countries on the list. All six Sub-Saharan countries had posted growth rates of around 8% over 10 years. At the time, forecasts from the International Monetary Fund (IMF) suggested Sub-Saharan Africa would grab seven of the top 10 places between 2011 and 2015.

That came to pass, and as recently as 2019, Sub-Saharan Africa still had the fastest-growing economies in the world. The coronavirus pandemic, which struck in December 2019 and is still wreaking havoc, will see growth slowing down, but statistics still suggest Sub-Saharan economies will continue to grow at an impressive rate. Though still battered by the pandemic—some countries are being bailed out by the IMF and the World Bank—the star performers remain Benin, Burkina Faso, Côte d’Ivoire, Ethiopia, Kenya, Mozambique, Niger, Rwanda, Senegal, South Sudan and Uganda. 

African economies can continue to outpace their non-African counterparts, and they have done so for years, which is why some people are saying that Africa is rising. But then you have conflict, poverty (which the fastest-growing economies have done little to eradicate), poor infrastructure, etc. These are the broken rungs on the prosperity ladder, which Africa is trying to climb.

The Natural Resources Advantage

The region’s impressive economic growth is coupled with tremendous potential. Sub-Saharan Africa is home to more than 30% of the world’s mineral reserves. The Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC) alone is estimated to possess $24 trillion of mineral resources. That is 10 times more than the GDP of Sub-Saharan countries combined. 

From Uganda to Nigeria to Angola to South Sudan, the geological lottery called oil has been won. Oil exports have provided billions of dollars in revenue for at least seven countries, although some are choking on debt to China, a key buyer of African oil, and multilateral lending institutions.

Then there is the demographic dividend. Africa is the youngest continent in the world. By 2040, says the IMF, it is projected to have the largest labour force—1 billion workers strong—more than China and India combined. The 1 billion-plus people, half of whom will be under 25 years old by 2050, according to the World Bank, speak to a diverse continent capable of providing the human and natural resources required to foster inclusive growth and eradicate poverty.

Free Trade Area

On January 1, 2021, Africa unveiled the African Continental Free Trade Area (AfCFTA), the continent’s most ambitious integration initiative and the blueprint for intra-Africa trade. 

An integral part of Agenda 2063, the African Union’s master plan for transforming Africa, the AfCFTA will not only set the stage for a market for goods and services but will also foster free movement of people and investments. 

It has been signed by 54 nations and ratified by 31—and promises to create one of the world’s biggest free-trade areas with a 1.2-billion-person market. 

The potential benefits will be amazing. Consider this: Nigeria imports flowers from Europe yet the leading flower exporter in Africa is Kenya. A functioning AfCFTA would see Nigeria buying flowers from Kenya and spending less as it seeks to eliminate tariffs and non-tariff barriers. Tariffs on 90% of goods will have to go within 10 years. More for the remaining 10% will be eliminated, but the phased implementation means real benefits will not be seen until 2035.

What is more, consumers will see prices reducing significantly. Tariffs have kept prices for a range of commodities much higher than they should be. A South African farmer, for example, exporting oranges to Kenya pays a 25% tariff, according to the African Trade Observatory. If Kenya removes the tariff, the price of those oranges can go down.

Democratic Rule

Away from trade, there has been commendable progress in governance where, for decades, Sub-Saharan Africa was the laughing stock, often falling victim to coup d’etats and other violent and unconstitutional changes of government. Sub-Saharan Africa has seen its number of democracies increase significantly over the years. 

In 2019, South Africa held its sixth election since 1994. In the same year, Malawi also held its sixth presidential election since it became a multiparty democracy in 1994. In Southern Africa, 15 of the 16 countries that form the regional bloc Southern African Development Community (SADC) hold regular elections and have changed leaders. (The exception is Swaziland, an absolute monarchy which changed its name to eSwatini in 2018.) 

Elections do not necessarily mean good governance, but many countries have set their governance on a firm democratic footing.

Central, East and West Africa are not any different. Out of 44 countries in Sub-Saharan Africa, only Eritrea, South Sudan and Sudan have not held proper elections.

The Challenge of Conflict and Political Instability

Some independent observers say that now is the take-off stage for the continent. It has got its feet firmly on the bottom rungs of the prosperity ladder and has started to climb. Sadly, there are still major challenges. In fact, sceptics would say that some rungs of the prosperity ladder are broken. Are they right?

To see how the road to prosperity is littered with hurdles, one must take a long and deep look at conflict in Africa. In East Africa and the Horn of Africa, for example, several countries are mired in conflict and have strained relations with each other. The DRC, despite its vast potential, has not seen peace since the overthrow of Mobutu Sese Seko, who seized power in 1965 and presided over a kleptocracy until his ouster in 1997. 

For decades, the country’s east has been a flashpoint, with a myriad of armed groups, some with foreign fighters, operating in South and North Kivu provinces, all vying for power and control of natural resources. Civilians have borne the brunt of the violence. But sometimes the victims are individuals working for foreign governments or international organisations.

In February 2020, the Italian ambassador to the DRC, Luca Attanasio, was shot dead by armed groups in the east. UN peacekeepers have also been killed, including experts investigating violence and sources of weapons used by groups involved in the conflict. The DRC is home to the United Nations’ largest peacekeeping operation, which began life in 1998, but the mission has not succeeded in restoring peace and security in the country. Africa accounts for the largest proportion of UN peacekeeping operations.

In the late 1990s, the conflict sucked in armies of six African countries, namely Angola, Burundi, Namibia, Rwanda, Uganda and Zimbabwe. Although troops from all six countries left decades ago, the DRC, 89 times bigger than Rwanda, is still being used as a base by armed groups seeking to attack neighbouring countries, such as Rwanda and Uganda.

Rwanda, the victim of the 1994 genocide, which saw the majority Hutus butchering the minority Tutsis, killing up to 800,000 people, has had to enter the DRC to flush out remnants of the FDLR, the Hutu militia it blames for the genocide. But the UN has also accused Rwanda of backing some of the rebel groups operating in the east. Rwanda has also battled armed groups in the DRC with links to Rwandan dissidents. 

A 2018 report by the UN Group of Experts on the DRC confirmed the presence of an armed group in the eastern Fizi and Uvira territories linked to Rwandan dissidents. It added that Burundi, Rwanda’s neighbour to the south, was arming the group named P5, also linked to Rwandan dissidents. Consequently, relations between Rwanda and Burundi, currently under EU sanctions over the 2015 deadly crackdown on protests, have been frosty.

Although efforts have been made to mend ties, Rwanda still provides sanctuary to individuals who tried to overthrow the Burundian government in 2015 and has been reluctant to hand them over to Burundi, insisting they should be relocated to foreign countries.

Rwanda is also at loggerheads with its northern neighbour, Uganda, which it accuses of arming groups bent on destabilising it. The border between the two countries, both members of the East African Community, a regional bloc, remains closed. And Paul Kagame, the Rwandan president, was the only head of state in East Africa who did not attend his Ugandan counterpart Yoweri Museveni’s inauguration in May.

Regional political instability has seen Uganda becoming home to more than 1.4 million refugees, mainly from South Sudan, which erupted in violence in 2013 and remains unstable; Burundi, which was rocked by violence in 2015 when former President Pierre Nkurunziza sidestepped term limits to extend his rule, sparking deadly riots; and the DRC, a playground of (foreign) armed groups.

 The DRC shares a border with the Central African Republic (CAR), which is grappling with a major conflict and has troops from the UN and its former colonial master, France, on its soil trying to restore peace and security with limited success.

To the CAR’s east is South Sudan, which has been trying, in a series of talks, to end the conflict to no avail. A power-sharing deal was signed in 2018, but insecurity in the south has persisted and has seen Ugandans getting killed by South Sudanese soldiers.

In November 2020, Ethiopia, South Sudan’s neighbour to the east, launched an offensive on the Tigray People’s Liberation Front (TPLF) in the country’s north, sparking a conflict that has not only killed thousands but has also sucked in neighbouring Eritrea and led to the imposition of sanctions by the US. The conflict started when Ethiopia’s Prime Minister, Abiy Ahmed, was already embroiled in a high-profile standoff with Sudan and Egypt over a hydro power dam his country is building on the Blue Nile.

Turn to Somalia, Ethiopia’s eastern neighbour, and you will see a country still far from being peaceful even though Burundi, Ethiopia, Kenya, Djibouti and Uganda have provided peacekeeping troops for the African Union Mission in Somalia (AMISOM), which has been working since 2007 to rein in the militant group Al-Shabab and restore peace and security.

To the north of the CAR lies Chad, which along with Niger, Mali, Mauritania and Burkina Faso (all share borders), forms a part of Africa called the Sahel—currently a by-word for an Islamist insurgency that has stymied a multinational effort to stamp it out. There has been deadly violence in Burkina Faso and Mali, which has seen at least three coups since 2012, two of which in the past nine months. French President Emmanuel Macroni has threatened to withdraw his country’s 5100-strong force if the coup plotters gang up with the Islamic State and al-Qaeda.

Given the seriousness of conflict and political instability, it is hard to see how the AfCFTA will come to fruition. Countries such as Burkina Faso, Ethiopia and South Sudan may have some of the fastest-growing economies, but how can they make the most of this trade deal when they and their neighbours are reeling from violence?

Poverty and Infrastructure 

Sub-Saharan African nations have additional daunting challenges. The most pressing challenge here is that poverty is still rampant. Thirty-three out of 48 least developed countries are found in Africa. By 2030, the World Bank says, nearly nine of every 10 people in extreme poverty will be living in Sub-Saharan Africa. Seven of the 10 most unequal countries in the world, the bank says, are in Africa, most of them in Southern Africa.

Infrastructure remains woefully inadequate. According to the IMF, over the past three decades, per capita output of electricity in Sub-Saharan Africa remained virtually flat. In cities such as Kampala, Lagos (the commercial capital of Africa’s largest economy, Nigeria) and Nairobi (the capital of East Africa’s largest economy, Kenya), power outages lasting for hours are common. Only 16% of all roads in Sub-Saharan Africa are paved, compared with 58% in South Asia. These shortfalls, says the IMF, represent huge costs to businesses—and to people.

For Africa to fix these problems—and increase, for example, its proportion of global trade from the dismal 2.6% to something decent—it is going to need to work tremendously hard. The optimism and narrative that it is rising (among Africans themselves) will continue, but Africa needs to put an end to conflict and political instability to pave the way for the AfCFTA initiative to succeed.

The year 2020 has been the worst on record for global travel tourism, the United Nations World Tourism Organisation (UNWTO) said in a report published earlier this year. The UNWTO says that one billion fewer international tourists travelled globally in 2020, with Africa suffering a 75% fall in international tourist numbers. While many countries had not yet imposed travel restrictions in the first quarter of 2020, the world welcomed 180 million fewer international arrivals in the first quarter (January to March) of 2021 compared with a year earlier.

The number of international tourists to Africa plummeted by 81% in that same period.

As a result, Africa remains high as a priority region for the UNWTO Secretary-General Zurab Pololikashvili. In a bid to focus on tourism to the continent, Africa will this year celebrate two major UNWTO events; namely, the official celebrations of the World Tourism Day in Côte d’Ivoire on September 27, and the 24th UNWTO General Assembly in Morocco a few weeks later. 

At a UNWTO Brand Africa Summit in Windhoek, Namibia on June 17, African ministers agreed in a communique—known as the Windhoek Pledge—to work together to reinvigorate the tourism industry on the continent.

“African destinations must take the lead in celebrating and promoting the continent’s vibrant culture, youthful energy and entrepreneur spirit, and its rich gastronomy,” Pololikashvili said.  

Member States unanimously endorsed the Windhoek Pledge on Advocating Brand Africa: “UNWTO and its members will also work with the African Union and the private sector to promote the continent to new global audiences globally positive, people-centered storytelling and effective branding,” the UNWTO said in the communique.

This is expected to strengthen partnerships with the media as a priority so that African tourism stories could be showcased to the world, thus reaching new and diverse tourism markets.

New Mutations Threaten Recovery

But as the different mutations of the Covid-19 virus have now taken on characters in a Greek tragedy (they’re receiving Greek letters as nomenclature), tourism operators say Delta is currently disrupting their plans to re-open and move further along the long road of recovery. And this also threatens recovery in Africa.

Some countries, such as Australia and Malaysia have reinforced lockdowns in major cities, while Israel, which has a very high vaccination rate, shows the hurdles the industry faces as it announced on June 23 that people indoors must wear masks and that it would modify its reopening travel schedule. 

Vaccinated tourists were originally supposed to be allowed into the country starting July 1. This was announced in a tourism recovery plan that now looks to be on hold.

The decision by Israeli authorities may trigger a similar response in other tourism destinations around the world. It may increase restrictions for arriving tourists, despite the assumption that vaccination is the golden key for the travel and tourism industry.

On June 24, popular tourist destination Portugal said that 70% of its new infections were due to the Delta variant, and announced shutting down the capital Lisbon just a month after opening up for tourism travel. The authorities said that they would impose stricter restrictions in Lisbon and popular tourism destination Albufeira fearing a blow to tourism recovery.

The good news is that there are baby steps being taken currently in terms of the global tourism industry as people are keen to get out and explore, but these are still very tentative. Initially, this will mostly be domestic tourism, but that will ensure that many tourism establishments survive to welcome international travellers once the new variants are brought under control. 

In Africa, one challenge that will need to be overcome to boost continental tourism is that travellers will require easier issuing of travel visas.

While significant visa facilitation improvements have taken place over the past decade, visa facilitation still needs to be a priority for African countries. This is particularly important to promote regional travel as the recovery of international tourism will be a long road. This means member countries should implement the Continental Free Trade Area (AfCFTA) for free movement of goods and services, which includes the acceptance of the African Union passport. 

This would entail more collaborative efforts to address the lack of harmonised health and travel protocols across the continent and beyond, especially during and post-pandemic crises to reassure tourists and build traveller confidence.

France, South Africa and the World Health Organization signed an agreement on technology transfer last month to create Africa’s first independent COVID-19 vaccine production hubs.

This comes on the heels of data which shows that Africa has only vaccinated 3 percent of the continent’s population, compared with 67 percent in North America and 31 percent in Asia. Meanwhile, the European Union (EU) is holding enough stock to provide almost seven vaccines per person, the UK eight and the United States five. The lack of access to these vaccinations in Africa is not due to lack of trying, however. When African governments tried to procure vaccines on the open market, they found themselves at the back of the line as stronger economies bought more than they needed.

Bringing African Tourism Sectors Together

Destinations all over the world will be vying for tourists as countries emerge from the lockdowns imposed by the Covid-19 pandemic. In that respect, Africa may have an advantage, as the post-lockdown travel trends could include the desire for outdoor trips, uncrowded destinations and personal travel bubbles with a focus on physical and mental health and wellness, including for instance quiet spaces where the sounds of nature can be heard again – such as the lion’s roar, the chirping of birds and insects, or the sound of antelopes walking through elephant grass.

But the collapse in international tourism has meant that African tourism had to switch to promoting domestic tourism. 

In the case of Namibia, for example, domestic tourists accounted for two-thirds of the hospitality sector’s occupancy rates in the first quarter of 2021 compared with only one-third in the same period a year earlier. Given the small size of its domestic population of only 2.5 million, however, this meant that the total number of beds sold in Namibia dropped by 53% compared with the first quarter of 2020. 

The latest data from Namibia’s hospitality association showed that bed occupancy in the first quarter of 2021 barely reached 17% compared with 27.2% in the first quarter of 2020. On a seasonal basis, the first quarter tends to be muted with respect to international travel and tourism. Room and bed occupancy rates during this time are often associated with people travelling for business or work conferences. However, even for business travellers, bed occupancy rates are down to 13% in the first quarter of 2021 as more people work from home and practice social distancing compared with 17% in the same period in 2020. 

To fill up empty rooms, tourism establishments are discounting their rack rates and Toshari Lodge, which is close to the Etosha National Park in Namibia, for instance, has dropped their rack of N$ 1,099 ($75) per person sharing for a standard room to only N$ 600 ($40) for the high season period of July 1 to November 20. This is not an isolated instance as many establishments are offering half price specials so that they can survive until international tourism recovers. 

But is there light at the end of the tunnel?

Alain St.Ange, President of the African Tourism Board and former Tourism Minister of the Seychelles, says that Africa—with all the possibilities and an array of ‘Unique Selling Points’—is seen as the next success story in attracting tourists to the continent. But it does have many obstacles to overcome; some are from beyond the borders of the continent and others are man-made by ourselves and for ourselves.

“[The] Covid-19 pandemic brought reality to the continent as it did for the whole wide world. Vaccines were introduced and Africa struggled to get an adequate supply to ensure that Africans were better prepared to protect itself and in order to play its part to stop the continued propagation of the pandemic through mutations and new variants which in turn will only extend the Covid-19 pandemic across the world,” he told The Cairo Review.

He pointed out that Africa was unprepared for such a pandemic which would cripple its tourism industry. Many of the 54 nations that make up the continent were cash-strapped and could not fight for their fair share of the needed vaccines. Africa was lucky to be resilient as many of its leaders and professionals rallied to offer assistance through the HOPE Project of its African Tourism Board, which is a roadmap for economic growth and a tourism recovery for those countries which depend on the industry for revenue. The project was created to bring African tourism sectors together to face the crisis as one. and to empower local solutions according to each country’s specific needs.

This included the involvement of Dr. Taleb Rifai, the former Secretary-General of the World Tourism Organization, who joined the HOPE project as the Patron of the Organisation.

The HOPE Project also saw many sitting ministers, former tourism ministers and industry leaders working together to guide and to be prepared for Africa to start doing the one needed thing—rewrite its own narrative. 

“Friends from around the world rallied as well and press personalities were seen to be by the side of Africa at a time when Africa needed its children to be together working for their motherland,” St.Ange added.

He warned, however, that it would be a long road to recovery and there would be occasions when the continent would take two steps forward and then have to take one step back. 

Like most of the world, the situation on the ground is seeing a light at the end of the tunnel with many countries announcing an end to lockdowns and their readiness to accept foreign tourists.

But that optimism disappears the next day as a new surge of Covid is seen to be creating havoc in country after country. The new Delta variant has now spread to 92 countries, for example.

“It is clear that the world must come together and tackle Covid as one. The richest countries and leaders need to take care of their own, but see at the same time that one new Covid variant mutating on our continent or elsewhere will prologue to the disruption of the last two years,” St.Ange says.

The slow vaccine rollout in Africa and the hesitancy of international tourists to venture outside their own country lest they be subjected to quarantine restrictions on their return as has happened to UK tourists, will mean that it will be a long road to recovery for African tourism. There is no magic silver bullet such as an international vaccine passport that can shorten this process.

In the meantime, Africa must look inward for homegrown solutions. It must call on its very own to rally forces and “to put square pegs in square holes and round pegs in round holes”. 

“The time is now and yes it can be done,” he says. 

Many communities and individuals are forced to leave their place of origin because of conflict, violence, political persecution, and natural disaster. ‘Some remain within the borders of their countries, also known as internally displaced persons (IDPs), while others flee their country to seek asylum elsewhere.’ A person who seeks the protection of another country is known as an asylum seeker. If they submit an asylum application and the application is successful, they become a recognized refugee.

According to the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR), the total number of forcibly displaced people at the end of 2020 was 82.4 million. Among them are 26.4 million recognized refugees, 48 million IDPs, and 4.1 million asylum seekers. The remaining 3.9 million are those displaced as a result of the economic situation in Venezuela. From among the 78.5 million (not including Venezuela), the majority are displaced from ten countries: Syria, Afghanistan, Myanmar, South Sudan, Sudan, Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC), Somalia, Central African Republic (CAR), Eritrea, and Burundi. As such, seven of the ten largest populations of forcibly displaced people are found in countries in Africa. Aside from North Africa, displacement from the four other regions—Central Africa and the Great Lakes, Southern Africa, East and the Horn of Africa, and West Africa—accounts for 32 percent of the global displacement. 

Africa also witnessed new displacement in 2020. In the Sahel region, three quarters of a million people were newly displaced, more than 54,000 fled the Tigray region of Ethiopia into eastern Sudan, and in northern Mozambique, hundreds of thousands were forced to flee the massacre initiated by militant groups. More importantly, the features that characterize population displacement in Africa have implications on both the proposed solutions for the displacement crisis as well as on the overall development of the continent. 

First,  the number of displaced peoples from the overall population is the highest in Africa. Apart from Syria, which currently has the highest percentage of displaced people in proportion to the overall population (76 percent of the Syrian population is now displaced), all other countries that have been exhibiting such features over a long period of time are in Africa. The African country with the highest percentage of displaced people is South Sudan where 35 percent of the population is displaced, followed by CAR (27 percent), Somalia (21 percent), and Eritrea (16 percent).

Second, the vast majority of those displaced remain in their own countries. Over 50 percent of the forcibly displaced populations from Sudan, Somalia, DRC, and CAR are internally displaced. According to the Internal Displacement Monitoring Center (IDMC) 2019 report, the vast majority of displacement from 2009 to 2018, with the exception of 2012, was due to ethnic and sectarian conflicts. Remaining within the borders of a country from which they fled personal persecution based on ethnicity and/or religion leaves a large segment of the displaced population in serious danger.  

Furthermore, the vast majority of those seeking international protection and asylum remain within the continent. The highest number of African asylum seekers and refugees are hosted by other African countries. For example, Kenya hosts 272,490 Somalis as compared to Germany, which hosts 34,640. Uganda hosts 889,054 South Sudanese refugees, and Kenya hosts 123,968 while the UK and France together host only 35,483. 

Uniquely, African countries producing asylum seekers are themselves also hosting asylum seekers from other countries in Africa. For example, South Sudan, one of the most critical countries from which people are displaced, hosts 291,263 Sudanese (from its northern neighbor). For its part, Sudan has since November 2020 has been hosting more than 61,000 people fleeing violence in Tigray, Ethiopia. This compounds existing economic challenges for Sudan as 36 percent of its population are living in poverty, 25 percent of which are living in extreme poverty. 

In such a scenario where the host country itself is facing such levels of poverty, hosting additional groups of displaced persons means that both the displaced population as well as the host population suffer. Reports suggest that those displaced from Tigray are facing hunger and inadequate shelter in Sudan. Such conditions are not confined to Sudan and South Sudan but are also the case for many other struggling African countries which are hosting displaced populations from other African countries.  

One of the most disturbing features of the above statistics is that a majority of those displaced are women and children. The percentage of displaced children under 18 in Africa is higher than all other regions. The estimated proportion of children among refugees hosted in Africa is above 50 percent as compared to 38 percent of the refugees in Europe and 24 percent in the Americas. The percentage of women among displaced populations in Africa is also high. In the East and Horn of Africa, 51 percent of those displaced are women (27 percent adult women and 24 percent young girls). In southern Africa, 49 percent (23 percent adult women and 26 percent girls) and in West and Central Africa the percentage is 54 (26 percent adult women and 28 percent young girls). Women and children are at a higher risk of suffering from different types of abuse including trafficking for the purpose of prostitution, forced labor, and domestic servitude. Research suggests that children and women refugees suffer from trafficking, sexual exploitation, and forced labor more than men. Research also highlights that women’s health is disproportionately affected by extreme climate conditions compared to men.

When Drivers of Displacement Converge

The factors leading to displacement in Africa are complex and intertwined. In addition to ethnic and religious conflicts, other economic and environmental reasons induce displacement including underdevelopment, poverty, inequality, unemployment, corruption, environmental degradation, climate change, and natural disasters. Although most displacement on the continent occurred as a result of conflict, substantial displacement was also witnessed as a result of natural disasters. For example, in 2012, massive floods led to displacements from Nigeria and other West African countries. As such, it is important to understand the aggregate effect of both the drivers and impacts of conflict and disasters. Disaster induced displacement can amplify preexisting conflicts or lead to new ones thus inducing additional displacement.

Impact on UNHCR and Host States

The large numbers of IDPs and displaced populations in neighboring countries combined with the large population exodus Africa has been witnessing since the 1960s has impacted the solutions put forward by both UNHCR and host states.. The immediate response to large scale displacement is how and where to host the displaced. There are two ways to host displaced populations: either to accommodate them in camps or to allow them to self-settle.

Refugee camps are temporary settlements built by host governments or international organizations to offer protection and provide refugees and IDPs with their basic needs. In protracted situations—situations in which at least 25,000 refugees from the same country have been living in exile for more than five consecutive years—the services provided in camps are usually extended to include educational and employment opportunities. While camps are able to easily assist refugees and IDPs, the disadvantage is that they isolate and restrict the movements of their residents. Self-settlement offers displaced populations more freedom of movement and allows them to be self-reliant; most self-settled urban refugees are confined to slums and underdeveloped areas.

Following the first Sudanese civil war of 1955-1972 and the Nigerian Civil war of 1967, rural refugee camps were established to host the displaced populations. The ‘camps’ solution continued to be the preferred approach by African host states for three decades because of the continuous large-scale displacement exacerbated by the displaced populations which remain on the continent in neighboring countries. Camps allowed host governments to isolate refugees and IDPs who were perceived as a ‘problem’ and to oblige the international community to take part in sharing the responsibility. It was only with the issuing of UNHCR’s 1997 Comprehensive strategy on Urban refugees that the rate of building camps in Africa slowed. It is worth adding that nine out of the current twelve largest refugee camps in the world are in Africa. 

Realizing that camps were turning into de facto prisons, the UNHCR continued to advocate against them and to promote the integration of refugees and IDPs in urban areas. In 2009, a UNHCR policy paper on urban refugees highlighted that cities are and should be the appropriate place for refugees. In 2014, UNHCR began phasing out of the camp solution and treated camps as the exception rather than the norm. As a result of this shift in policy, the vast majority of refugees today are self-settled in urban areas. According to the 2018 Refugee Council report, 60 percent of all refugees and 80 percent of all IDPs live in urban areas.

A Long Way to Go

With the exception of a few African countries where refugees are able to find economic opportunities in the informal sector, self-settled urban refugees in most African countries are unable to achieve self-reliance and remain dependent on UNHCR financial aid. If they cannot find accommodation with friends and families, they end up homeless. Even in countries where they are able to find economic opportunities, for example Egypt, Kenya, and South Africa, they are confined to the informal sector, are underpaid, and suffer from xenophobic attacks. Urban policy and the shift away from ‘camps’ as a solution did not entail a comprehensive strategy for local integration and the provision of livelihood opportunities for refugees and IDPs. The decision by African countries, like Kenya, to close down refugee camps was not for the purpose of integrating them in the local societies but for the ultimate hope that they either be repatriated or resettled. Other countries, such as Egypt and South Africa, are against encampment but do not recognize ‘local integration’ as a durable solution.   

Displacement for both IDPs and refugees should be temporary. IDPs should either return to their original place or become integrated into the new communities. 

According to the Inter-Agency Standing Committee’s report on durable solutions for internally displaced persons, “Whatever the cause of internal displacement, or the option chosen by IDPs for their durable solution, IDPs will commonly continue to have residual needs and human rights concerns linked to their displacement”. 

The report published by the Brookings Institution and the University of Bern Project on Internal Displacement in 2010 also says that “IDPs who have physically returned to their place of origin may find that they are unable to rebuild destroyed houses or reclaim their land, because the disaster that displaced them has made the land unsafe for habitation or the land is now occupied by others”.

To assuage the situation, the UNHCR has put forward three durable solutions: repatriation to the country of origin, local integration in the host country, and resettlement to a third country. All African countries are against local integration because of the large-scale displacement in Africa—the burden of which is borne by neighboring countries—and the fragile economic and social infrastructure that does not allow them to fully integrate the displaced populations. In Egypt, for example, the Memorandum of Understanding (MoU) between the Egyptian government and UNHCR specifies only two solutions to the refugee situation: resettlement and repatriation.

Resettlement was the preferred solution for countries in the Northern Hemisphere following World War II from the 1950s to 1980s. War-ravaged countries were in need of labor to meet the demands of postwar construction requirements, economic expansion, and the loss of labor force. Moreover, the politics of the Cold War encouraged many Western countries adopting the capitalist model to provide resettlement opportunities to those fleeing communist regimes. For example, refugees fleeing communist regimes in Vietnam, Cambodia, and Laos in 1975 were resettled to the United States, Canada, Europe, and Australia. The end of the Cold War in 1991 reduced the political will of capitalist countries to provide amnesty to refugees from the Global South. Moreover, African refugees were characterized as culturally and ethnically different and were not welcomed in the North. As such, as of the 1980s, repatriation became the preferred solution.

Repatriation was encouraged and promoted by both UNHCR and the host governments in Africa. This was facilitated by the variation in the political conflicts in the continent. For example, thousands of civilians started to flee Sudan in large numbers during the first Sudanese Civil War in the 1960s. After the Addis Ababa Accord ended hostilities in 1972, the conflict subsided for a while encouraging African host countries to promote repatriation. In fact, many Sudanese were repatriated. 

However, instability emerged again with the imposition of Islamic laws in 1983 forcing many non-Muslims—including those who were previously repatriated—to flee Sudan.  With the signing of the peace agreement between the government of Sudan and the People’s Liberation Army (SPLA) based in the country’s south in 2005, repatriation was promoted not only by host countries but also by UNHCR. A large-scale repatriation process of southern Sudanese civilians started to take place. The process was further expanded following the creation of the new state of South Sudan in 2011. However, many of those repatriated were displaced again in 2013 as South Sudan was rocked by a civil war of its own. By the time that civil conflict was brought to an end in 2018, four million people had again been displaced.  

The same is true of the conflict between Eritrea and Ethiopia; both countries alternated between periods of conflict and relative stability. The war which began in 1998 was interrupted by a number of ceasefires but the violence didn’t really fully end until 2018. During periods of conflict, many civilians fled their homes and when hostilities subsided, they were repatriated only to be displaced again with the eruption of a new cycle of violence.

Repatriation in Africa, as such, was promoted without carefully assessing the situation in the countries of origin. Moreover, though the UNHCR’s mandate of refugee repatriation stresses the voluntary character of refugee repatriation. Such character is questioned by many scholars who ask to what extent are refugees provided with the needed information to make an informed decision.

To what extent is the exile experience carefully assessed in terms of its impact on refugees and their ability to return ‘home’, and what does ‘home’ mean for them? These and other questions were usually overlooked when implementing repatriation programs in Africa.

Ending Repeated Cycles

Even though forced displacement is a global phenomenon, repeated violence in Africa has meant that repatriated civilians often find themselves forced to abandon their homes again.

Seven out of the ten countries from which most displacement is taking place worldwide are in Africa, accounting for more than 32 percent of the total global displaced persons, and the highest number of displaced people in proportion to the overall population are found in African countries. The factors leading to displacement are numerous and complex, ranging from ethnic and religious conflicts to economic and environmental reasons. Even though women and children constitute the majority among all displaced populations, the highest percentage is among African countries. Like displacement in other parts of the world, most of those displaced are either accommodated internally or in other countries on the continent. This, however, has more serious implications in Africa as the continent struggles with poverty, economic stagnation, population growth, poor governance, corruption, and unemployment. These features have forced the governments of the continent to resort to strategies that are harmful to both the displaced populations and the host countries. For example, most of those displaced before the 1990s were accommodated in camps that segregated the refugees and IDPs from the local communities, exacerbated the ethnic and religious tensions between those displaced and intensified acts of gender based violence against women. Violence was the trademark of refugee camps in Africa. Repatriation became the most favorable durable solution implemented without careful assessment. Those repatriated were in many cases displaced again either because of the eruption of new conflicts or their inability to reintegrate in their countries of origin.

International cooperation and responsibility-sharing are needed to effectively deal with displacement in Africa. Countries of the North should revisit their resettlement quotas, and resettlement and humanitarian provisions should not only be tied to political interests. African governments should come together to put an end to both their local and regional conflicts. The recent conflict in Tigray is an example of how Displacement will never end unless ethnic struggles in each country and between countries come to an end. Relatively stable governments of the continent together with UNHCR should implement local integration policies that would allow proper integration of refugees and asylum seekers. UNHCR’ repatriation policy should be based on careful assessment ensuring its voluntary character. Last, but not least, it should be remembered that displacement and development are related. Well designed development initiatives could reduce displacement and allow the return of displaced people. Without such a global approach, displacement in Africa will continue.  

Mango farmers in Malawi, who have always considered the fruit to be a source of revenue when food is scarce, have declared war on the Bactrocera dorsalis fly which threatens their crops and livelihood.

The mango is one of the most important fruits in Malawi, and is a source of income and nutrition for many smallholders—vulnerable farmers holding small plots of land used to produce an export commodity as a main source of income. Women and youth are among the main beneficiaries as they are involved in the harvesting, and sale, of fresh mangoes from their homes, by the roadsides and at small markets, thereby improving household income.

However, in recent years, many farmers have seen an increase in rotten mangoes and lost revenue due to what scientifically is called Bactrocera dorsalis, more commonly known as the fruit fly. According to the Centre for Agriculture Biosciences International (CABI), this is a highly invasive species native to Asia that is now found in at least sixty-five countries, including parts of America and Oceania, and most sub-Saharan African countries. 

The potential risk of their introduction to a new area is caused by increasing international tourism and trade, and is influenced by changes in climate and land use. 

The fruit fly introduction may also happen as a result of movements of people from one country to another, as may happen with refugees and other migrants, and is sometimes caused by cross-border trade. In terms of land use, certain human actions such as forest degradation that clears large areas of land can lead to certain species of pests to begin attacking trees that are left out for fruit consumption such as mango.

After introduction, fruit flies can easily disperse as they have a high reproductive potential, high biotic potential (short life cycle, up to ten generations of offspring per year depending on temperature), a rapid dispersal ability and a broad host range. 

This means that they reproduce quickly and then easily spread to colonize new areas where they begin the cycle anew, often laying eggs ten times a year depending on the area temperature.

The project is implementing all possible measures holistically to contain the spread of what is now an invasive species. The use of integrated measures is one way of containing the high reproductive potential of the fruit flies.

The fruit flies lay eggs in the mangoes, which hatch into maggots that burrow inside the fruit causing rotting. In some cases the fruit may not fall on the ground but it may simply be infested with maggots as a live fruit. This makes the fruit inedible when plucked from the tree for consumption, and it is no longer a viable commodity for export. The damaged fruit then becomes unmarketable, resulting in loss of both food and income at the household level and along the supply chain. 

The direct damage and the resulting quarantine restrictions (such as a ban on products originating from areas where the fruit species are infected by the flies) on rotting mangoes imposed by importing countries, such as Italy, India, South Africa, Tanzania and the United Arab Emirates (to name a few) are estimated to have cost Malawi and other African exporters more than $2 billion in annual foreign currency earnings. The economic impact results primarily from the loss of export markets and the costly implementation of quarantine restrictions and pest eradication measures. Restrictions come in the form of a ban on exports that are believed to contain products with infected plant disease.

In a bid to address the threat posed by fruit flies, researchers in Malawi, Mozambique, Zambia, and Zimbabwe are implementing the Alien invasive fruit flies in southern Africa project which calls for the implementation of a sustainable Integrated Pest Management (IPM) program to combat their spread.

The project has received funding of C$ 2.8 ($2.2) million from the Canadian International Development Research Centre and the Australian International Food Security Research Centre, for the wide scale adoption of IPM interventions including combating fruit fly infestations.

The project kicked off in 2019 and will wrap up in September 2022.

Source of Income, Nutrition and Export 

According to a 2019 Michigan State University report on the mango value chain, smallholder farmers make gross margins (total sales revenue after subtracting incurred production costs) of 300,000 Malawian Kwacha—approximately $375—per farmed hectare. They earn a 78 percent profit margin, making mango farming profitable.

In addition to the presence of wild mangoes that are managed by Malawian subsistence farmers, the demand for both fresh and dried mangoes in global markets helped create the right market conditions for the establishment of  the first commercial mango farming company—Malawi Mangoes—in 2009. This is Malawi’s largest mango farming company and is based in the Lakeshore district of Salima about 110 kilometers east from the capital Lilongwe.

The company has set up the first large scale fruit processing facility in Malawi. Its proximity to Lake Malawi, Africa’s third largest lake, has helped the company to grow prefered grafted species of mangoes using technologies such as drip irrigation as part of the Green Belt Initiative, a government project to boost self-sustenance in food security.   

Charles Leaper, Malawi Mangoes Chief Executive Officer, told The Cairo Review by phone that they now have 230 hectares of land using drip irrigation technology—an approach which conserves water and minimizes water waste. So far, they are exporting 100 tonnes of fresh mangoes and 240 tonnes of dried mangoes to the United Kingdom and the European Union. 

“We have close to 5,000 farmers who are on contract farming with us. Our plan is to increase our area under cultivation to 350 hectares of land. As such, the combined harvests of our farmers who sell to us plus our own harvest will lead to us producing close to 800 tonnes of finished dried mangoes product for export,” Leaper said.

With such tonnage, his company hopes to export to India and Singapore, as well as to penetrate new markets in North America and Canada. Leaper said they are aware of the prevalence of fruit flies as a major threat to the mango business. However, with a fully-fledged agronomy unit, a branch of agriculture that grows crops, they have put stringent controls, such as nets, to trap the flies. 

Another local Malawian entrepreneur that processes ripped Mangoes in Lilongwe the capital is Thanthwe Farm located on the outskirts west of Lilongwe. George Mavuto is the Farm’s  agronomist.

“Yes, indeed as Thanthwe Farm, we process dried mangoes and package them as part of value addition. As a farm, we grow mango on a small scale around 2 hectares,” said Mavuto in an interview.

“To empower the communities around the farm economically, we encourage them to grow mango fruits. We move around and provide technical advice on how they can maximize yields. Then we buy all the mangoes from them,” he explained. The bulk of our quantity for our annual requirements come from them.” Mavuto acknowledges that the major challenge is the incidence of pests—fruit flies being one of them. He adds that yield is affected as the fruit flies compromise quality. All infested fruits are graded out soon after harvesting as they are of poor quality.

“As a result of fruit flies, instead of meeting the demand, we supply below the requirement due to this pest,” he said.

Continental strategy on the culprit: Fruit flies

In a bid to address the widespread mango losses as a result of fruit flies, Malawi’s Department of Agriculture Research Services at Bvumbwe Station based in the southern district of Thyolo—with support from the International Centre of Insect Physiology and Ecology (ICIPE) a regional think tank on entomology research based in Nairobi, Kenya, —is working with farmers in Ntcheu and Lilongwe districts to contain the devastating effects of these pests. 

The two districts are where wild mango trees are produced in large quantities. This is being done in hopes that extension staff can replicate these IPM interventions in other districts throughout the country.

The package includes various components of interventions such as baiting techniques, male annihilation, biopesticide application, orchard sanitation, and biological control using wasps called parasitoids, which attack fruit fly eggs and maggots.

Researchers have also extended a regional approach to the fruit fly Integrated Pest Management package, which has been adapted and promoted in the project’s target countries of Mozambique, Zambia and Zimbabwe which are close neighbours of Malawi.

Experts hope the proximity of these countries which share common borders and were once under a single federation (in the case of Malawi, Zimbabwe and Zambia) will help address the fruit fly challenge from a regional perspective. 

They are also of the view that tackling the challenge in one country alone will only make the problem a challenge in another country as fruit flies do not respect international borders and territories.  

Suppressing native fruit flies with pheromones

Pheromones, known as Host Marking Pheromones (HMP), are used by insects to mark ‘hosts’ (usually a fruit), where they have already laid their eggs. These were evaluated in Kenya for their application and efficacy in deterring fruit flies of the same or different species from laying their eggs on host fruits, such as mango and guava. The results, which are applicable to the target countries, indicate a seven to nine fold decrease in fruit infestation by three types of indigenous fruit flies in plots treated with HMP compared to controls. This information not only contributes to knowledge on the chemical ecology of fruit flies but indicates the potential for these pheromones to be incorporated within IPM fruit sprays. HMP thus widens the options for fruit fly management through integrated pest management. 

Mass rearing of parasitoids

Colonies of two parasitoid species have been boosted by the ICIPE based in Nairobi, Kenya—the third largest exporter of mangoes in Africa. The laboratory has a capacity to produce approximately 25,000 wasps per month—sufficient to supply all target countries. However, Zambia has yet to upgrade its national laboratories in order to rear and multiply the wasp species and still needs to obtain an import permit to receive the parasitoid shipments from ICIPE. Malawi and Mozambique have upgraded their facilities in readiness of receiving the parasitoids and are now awaiting processing of the import permits and required phytosanitary certificates. Parasitoids have already been shipped to Zimbabwe where project staff have started rearing insects at a small scale but aim to be able to supply farmers with 1,500 wasps per hectare.

Male Annihilation

One other technique is male annihilation. This is the mass killing of male fruit flies in an area. The males are killed in mass by setting traps containing a parapheromone which attracts the fruit flies but also contains a killing agent which exterminates them when trapped. The technique works in a way that when many male fruit flies are killed in the environment, many females lay eggs which are not fertile and consequently the population of the pests reduces over time. 

Since mango is important in these countries and fruit flies are constraining its production and utilization, the combined use of all these techniques as part of fruit fly management will enhance the incomes and nutrition of farmers, entrepreneurs and commercial growers through increased production and consumption.

What Comes Next

When asked about the possibility for extension after 2022, ICIPE postdoctoral fellow Shepard Ndlela explained that, like any other donor-funded project, the Alien invasive fruit flies project in southern Africa will come to an end next September. The governments of Malawi, Zambia, Zimbabwe, Mozambique are expected to extend activities beyond the project implementation phase.

Hundreds of extension officers have been trained in fruit fly IPM, model farmers have also trained to be a source of information including Masters and PhD students. Thousands of women also trained through gender transformative actions, he added.

“We are building the capacity of these countries so that extension officers can incorporate what has been learned into their day to day activities with farmers,” Ndlela told The Cairo Review from Nairobi. “We have made great strides in the other countries where thousands are now using the fruit fly IPM package.” 

In recent years, African leaders have come together to promote initiatives that can manage, protect, and more equitably distribute the continent’s water resources. In keeping with the Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs) adopted by the United Nations in 2015, and particularly SDG6 (which calls for universal access to water services), bodies like the African Development Bank (AFDB) and the African Union (AU) have put forward plans that aim to enhance access to water services for all Africans by investing in dams, irrigation systems, pipelines, and wastewater treatment plants. They include the AFDB’s Africa Water Vision 2025, as well as the Continental Africa Water Investment Programme adopted by the AU in February 2021. These initiatives share a common objective: to support the continent’s economic growth and development.

These African-led strategies complement existing international projects, such as the United States’ Government’s Global Waters Strategy, and Germany’s funding measure, Water as a Global Resource (GroW). For several years, these projects have supported research and capacity-building efforts in Africa that lead to diversified water supply sources, higher standards in water quality, and the adoption of more efficient irrigation technologies, among others. 

Despite such efforts, limited access to water and sanitation services remains a critical impediment to economic and social development across the continent. More than 300 million Africans lack access to clean water services and 700 million lack access to decent sanitation. If greater investments are not made in the coming years to support regional initiatives that tackle these challenges—particularly in the rural communities that host most of the growing populations—the situation will only get worse. Around 5 percent of Africa’s GDP is lost every year due to water scarcity. Key sectors that employ millions, such as agriculture and mining, are severely affected by drought. 

To turn the tide on these issues, efficient domestic institutions in African states are essential. Policy structures articulated around solid and representative institutions would strengthen local support for policies that change how water resources are allocated. For example, while institutional arrangements that promote public-private partnerships (PPPs) have been introduced throughout the continent (in part to help with cost recovery for building water infrastructure in urban centers), they hardly take into consideration the local issues that many communities face. These include high inequality, poor maintenance of existing infrastructures, and growing urban populations. It is important therefore to increase institutional sensitivity to local needs—when setting prices for water services, for example.

The Current Water Paradigm

Africa is not water scarce, per se, if one considers its resources as a whole. The continent has more than sixty-two transboundary rivers which cover 64 percent of its total land area. 

The Nile River, which is the longest on the continent and the second-longest river in the world, links the economic and social futures of eleven riparian countries (Burundi, the Democratic Republic of the Congo, Egypt, Eritrea, Ethiopia, Kenya, Rwanda, South Sudan, Sudan, Tanzania, Uganda). Other major river basins include the Congo, Zambezi, Okavango, Limpopo, Volta, Niger, Senegal, Orange, Komati, and Gambia, along with the basins of Lakes Victoria and Chad, which together supply water to millions of Africans. 

However, the difficult economic conditions experienced by most countries make it challenging and expensive for governments to capitalize on those resources and promote inter and intra-basin water transfer arrangements from water-rich to water-scarce regions. Optimal allocation and management of both surface and groundwater sources requires sustained financial investment. Ongoing investment is also needed to enhance the wastewater infrastructure for water recycling, desalination, and greywater treatment. Many wastewater treatment plants are not operating at full capacity and their revitalization requires sustained public and private investment efforts. Even in South Africa, the most industrialized country on the continent, 60 percent of wastewater treatment plants do not meet discharge requirements. The current level of investment in the water sector, which hovers around $9 billion per year, is far below the $23 billion needed to support the continent’s SDG-6 goals (which include all aspects of water and sanitation access). Meanwhile, the African Development Bank estimates that $64 billion is needed annually to meet the 2025 Africa Water Vision of water security for all. 

Additionally, more competition for water between different sectors (agriculture, industry, and residential) raises the price of water, which leaves many communities—often the poorest and most vulnerable—in a situation whereby women and children must walk long distances to collect water to satisfy their basic needs. In countries where true water scarcity is not an issue because there are enough rivers and lakes, difficult economic and social conditions make it hard to use and value the resources at their disposal. This is because the infrastructure and institutions needed to extract, allocate, manage, and treat water are either missing or poorly managed, which leads to a situation of economic water scarcity. Such scarcity is characterized by a state of nature where water is available but not usable due to financial, technological, human capacity, and institutional constraints. Competition over water by several sectors is then exacerbated by both climate change and population growth.

More people will require greater food production, processing, transport, and distribution. This increases the water footprint of the agricultural value chain and makes water use efficiency a prerequisite for sustainable water management. For instance, if the middle class continues to grow as it has been in recent decades, only a system that uses water efficiently will be able to meet rising demand. Projections show that, by 2030, the demand for water in Africa will quadruple, and that most of that increase is driven by population growth and the development of the agricultural, industrial, and commercial sectors. 

At the same time, climate change reduces the frequency of rainfall and leads either to drought or flood, the costs of which have been steep for several African states. Previous episodes of drought, flooding, and changing rainfall patterns and temperatures have drastically increased vulnerability across various African regions. For instance, the 2005-2006 drought in Botswana damaged nearly 73,000 hectares of cultivated cropland, resulting in tremendous economic losses and social suffering. 

An earlier drought in 1991-1992 affected more than 80,000 people, of whom  20,000 faced a serious risk of starvation. In South Africa, more recent estimates show that the agricultural sector shed 31,000 jobs in provinces severely affected by drought and temperature change in 2018 and lost approximately 7 billion rand of turnover due to weather variability. Meanwhile, drought in Zambia in 2017-2018 sent more than 2.3 million people into poverty. 

Taken together, these issues paint a complex picture of the state of water usage in Africa. It comes as no surprise, then, that tensions surrounding its use often run high. One high-profile example, which has escalated to the point of crisis in recent years, is the conflict between Egypt, Sudan, and Ethiopia over construction of the Grand Ethiopian Renaissance Dam (GERD). 

The Grand Ethiopian Renaissance Dam

According to Ethiopian government officials, the GERD (located on the Blue Nile—a tributary of the Nile River—on Ethiopia’s western border) was built to help address the country’s problems with energy production and socio-economic development. It is expected to help reduce poverty and promote a massive youth employment program. Today, the country relies heavily on biomass energy sources and more than 60 million people lack access to electricity. The hydroelectric power expected from the GERD project should help the country reach its long-term development and structural transformation goals. The GERD is planned to become the largest hydropower project in Africa, and its cost, estimated at $5-6 billion, is financed by government bonds and private donations. Officials from downstream neighboring countries, namely Egypt and Sudan, however, are deeply skeptical of the project.  

More than 90 percent of the freshwater consumed in Egypt comes from the Nile river. According to Egyptian officials, the GERD represents an existential threat, as it could affect not only the amount of water the country has to draw upon, but also the output of the 2.1 GW High Aswan Dam, which provides electricity to many sectors in the country. Egypt’s economy and social stability would also be put at risk if less water becomes available to its farmers and the hydroelectricity sector once flows are controlled from the GERD.

Egypt claims that the dam’s construction does not abide by previous agreements which guaranteed Egypt the right to 55.5 billion cubic meters (bcm) of Nile water per year and Sudan 18.5 bcm per year (agreements which were signed, however, without Ethiopia’s participation). Similar concerns are expressed by Sudan regarding the potential impact of the GERD on the efficiency of its 280 MW Roseries Dam. Although Sudan initially supported the GERD project, the change in the country’s political landscape with the military coup of Al-Bashir has modified Sudanese discourse toward the GERD.  

Interventions in January led by former U.S Treasury Secretary Steven Mnuchin failed to produce an agreement. Meanwhile, concerns expressed by Egypt and Sudan have been exacerbated by Ethiopia’s recent decision to begin a second year of filling the GERD reservoir in July and August 2021. President Biden’s administration said in February that it would review policy on the GERD and look to renew U.S. efforts to mediate the long-running dispute. 

As of this writing, the countries are set to bring their negotiations before the UN Security Council. However, the council has expressed doubts that there is much it can do other than encourage the parties to keep negotiating. In truth, there are now monitoring technologies available that could address many of the problems raised by the riparian states (such as the management of flow during droughts). According to the UN’s Under Secretary General for Political and Peacebuilding Affairs, Rosemary A. DiCarlo, the remaining issues should be surmountable. 

This case study shows that in Africa, as anywhere else in the world, water issues cannot be addressed in isolation. Water is linked to many other natural resources, such as energy, land, forestry, and mining, which all affect human livelihoods and support economic development, peace and security. This means that any action taken in the water sector will subsequently affect other non-water sectors and produce some positive or negative external effects. 

These effects can be direct and indirect, short-term or even long-term. Even absent the kind of international implications seen in the GERD case, the decision to build new dams will affect the energy sector, and help regulate the volume of water needed for irrigation purposes and other water-dependent productive sectors. Nonetheless, it may negatively affect the livelihoods of local populations and the ecosystem. Thus, investment options that aim at addressing water scarcity and water planning and management must take into consideration these external effects. 

A More Comprehensive, Inclusive, and Transparent Water Agenda

To cope with this complexity, policymakers must hone in on the specificities of each situation as they address it, bearing in mind the spatial and socio-economic differences between Africa’s regions. What works in West Africa might not necessarily work in East or Southern Africa. The institutional features, governance structures and geopolitical situations of each region should be taken into consideration when drafting water policies. 

One way to do this and address a number of problems at once is to seek local participation and buy-in from the populations affected by water problems and policies. For example, one set of problems associated with water scarcity is the nexus between water, health, and poverty. Poor people tend to consume less water because they live in remote, often rural areas. Bringing piped water to these communities is often costly because of the low density of the population, which in turn tends to affect water prices and infrastructure planning. Poor cost recovery makes it even harder to expand the water service coverage to remote areas. 

As a result, most rural dwellers end up exclusively using untreated underground water sources. This exposes those resources to depletion because little control is applied to usage and no one knows exactly how the extracted underground water is being utilized (so it is hard to regulate). The little amount of piped water available to rural dwellers is often also not of good quality. This exposes rural populations to water-borne diseases and higher mortality rates. The most affected are often children and women since they are, unfortunately, the most vulnerable. This is because, in rural areas, women have limited economic opportunities, given their low level of education and income, which in turn affects their children’s livelihoods. 

One way to address this is by promoting inclusive and decentralized water management approaches, which involve the local communities and several stakeholders in the planning and design of water policies. The resulting implications of such a comprehensive and inclusive water management approach allow policy-makers to establish trust and spur ownership of policies within the communities they serve. This helps build transparency in how public policies are implemented and supports initiatives that aim at strengthening local expertise. 

Such an approach creates communities that know how to maintain their own water infrastructures. This bottom-up management approach not only ensures better resource management and planning (because the people who know their own needs best are involved), but also helps mitigate any potential tensions associated with water allocation that might emerge between communities. Finally, it promotes a holistic view and concerted effort across sectors and institutions.

A Way Forward 

Despite all of the challenges highlighted above, the African continent has most of what is needed to plan and manage its waters efficiently and cost-effectively. However, it requires a paradigm shift wherein water policies are designed inclusively and transparently, involving various stakeholders operating in the water allocation chain.

The shared vision of creating an Africa where there is an equitable and sustainable use and management of water resources, socio-economic development, and regional cooperation—as highlighted in the Africa Water Vision for 2025—can only be truly realized if new methods are implemented by regional and continental organizations. This requires, however, regional collaborations in the water sector where national agendas are supplemented by regional ones, given the transboundary nature of this resource. More financial support could be given to institutions such as the Southern and the Western Africa Technical Advisory Teams, to enable them to develop regional water management visions. This is exactly what the Africa Water Vision is about: leveraging Africa’s internal expertise to promote sustainable water resources management. 

The objective of such African-led water management initiatives is the creation of a water governance system that is holistic, representative of  African realities, and takes into consideration the constraints and opportunities present on the ground. The integrated water resources management approach—often advocated by international institutions—should be reinvigorated to avoid a one-size-fits-all policy agenda that is imported and implemented without taking into consideration the domestic socio-economic, environmental and institutional context.  

For instance, more emphasis should be given to policies that promote demand-side management (DSM) and diversification of the water supply and that are gender-sensitive and more oriented toward rural and peri-urban centers where most of the African population lives. Investment  in new irrigation technologies and adjustment of water taxes are good examples of such DSM, especially given the rising challenges of climate change and population growth. 

From the supply side, widespread dissemination of low-cost and easy-to-maintain technologies can help to optimize the use of groundwater and promote recycling of wastewater for non-drinking purposes. With such an approach, we can expect Africa to leave behind inefficiency, and achieve a true paradigm shift in the way water resources are managed on the continent.

Though it lasted a mere eleven days, the battle in Gaza and across Palestine managed to dislodge an iceberg worth of support Israel had built up in the preceding decades. We are witnessing a transition that has radically shifted Israel’s relations in the region and beyond.

Not only did the world watch in horror as the highrises of Gaza fell and thousands of civilians lost their homes while hundreds more died; but relations between Israel and its Palestinian citizens suffered an irreparable fracture. The inter-ethnic violence raged in a way never before seen. The Gaza battle also renewed a sense of solidarity between Israeli Palestinians and their brothers and sisters in the West Bank and Gaza.

Relations between Israel and the United States have also begun a fundamental realignment. Despite the power of the U.S. Israel Lobby to control the domestic debate and promote a pro-Israel narrative, new voices of opposition have become emboldened. In fact, the progressive Democratic caucus played a critical role in rallying opposition to the Israeli assault. A short, but critical meeting between U.S. president Joseph Biden and Muslim-American House member Rashida Tlaib on an airport tarmac moved Biden to demand that Israel agree to a ceasefire. Not since the days of the first George Bush administration has a president been willing to force Israel’s hand in this manner.

Unlike in past Israeli-Palestinian conflicts, in which both parties shared blame, this time the fault clearly lay with Israel. It provoked the incidents that eventualy built up to full-scale combat by harassing and then violently assaulting Muslim worshippers at the holy Al Aqsa mosque during the month of Ramadan.

Saving Bibi

The Israeli government’s assault was motivated by purely cynical political reasons: to save Netanyahu’s career. The day after his political rivals had sealed an agreement to form a new government which would have excluded him, Netanyahu commenced the bombing. He knew the anti-Netanyahu coalition, containing factions from the far-right to the left, could not remain united in face of war. He was right. The key far-right leader, Naftali Bennett, announced he could not join in the midst of hostilities. In addition, the Islamist Party, Raam, which would have joined the coalition for the first time in Israeli history, also could not do so as long as there were anti-Palestinian pogroms on the streets of Israeli towns. 

Moreover, Netanyahu is also in the midst of a major corruption trial. If he is found guilty, he would go to prison and forfeit his role as prime minister. He knew that no court would convict him as long as the country was at war. As long as he remained the country’s leader, his apparent logic was that he might devise a legislative or legal stratagem to avoid punishment.

Thus, this war had no strategic or defensive purpose. It was a war to protect Netanyahu’s personal interests and political power. The cynicism of this charade has  not been lost on the world nor  even on Israelis themselves.

Before the bombing began in Gaza, Netanyahu had tried and failed to form a new coalition which he planned to lead. The mandate had then fallen to his rival, Yair Lapid. The only way to frustrate Lapid’s attempt, which almost succeeded at that time, was to provoke the attack.

Though Netanyhau’s tactic worked in the short term, it ultimately failed. In the weeks since the ceasefire, Lapid has cobbled together a new government. Lapid’s coalition will remove the longest-serving prime minister in Israel’s history. So, the soon-to-be ex-prime minister’s war on Gaza was a corrupt, ultimately failed effort to maintain power; at the expense of 265 Palestinian lives, among them 67 children. 

The world saw this stratagem for the deal with the devil that it was. As a result, Israel lost whatever moral high ground it had ever enjoyed and was left exposed as a nation engaged in war crimes against an essentially defenseless civilian population.

The War at Home

For the first time in Israel’s history of Palestinian conflict, the hostilities began not with events in Gaza, but with domestic turmoil at home. As a result of the naked assault by Israeli Border Police on Haram al Sharif, Israeli Palestinian communities throughout the country rose up in anger. They rioted, assaulted Israeli Jews, burned a Lod synagogue, and trashed Jewish businesses.

In response, Jewish vigilantes led by extremist settlers flooded into these towns to confront the Israeli Palestinians. These vigilante groups hunted Palestinians down, looted Palestinian businesses, threw firebombs into family homes, and beat victims senseless in the streets as police stood by. In one incident, they even beat a man they believed to be Palestinian with poles draped in Israeli flags. This pole attack was made darkly ironic when the media later learned that the victim was a Mizrahi Jew. 

In these Arab-majority quarters, the residents retreated to their homes, locked their doors, and tried to wait out the terror that ensued. 

Not since the Nakba had Palestinian citizens of Israel feared for  their lives from the onslaught of their Jewish neighbors. Of course, they had suffered their second class status within the majority-Jewish state largely in silence. During previous Israeli invasions of Gaza, they maintained a studied neutrality. They dared not express their feelings of solidarity publicly, if they had them, for fear of disturbing the tenuous inter-ethnic compact that permitted them to exist as a tolerated minority.

But the thuggish police attack on the Muslim holy site was one bridge too far for Israeli Palestinians. The young people especially chafed at the compromises their elders had endured. The Israeli Palestinian community decided enough was enough and the only way to assert their rights was to take matters into their own hands. That’s what drove them into the streets, where they struck a fatal blow to the internal Jewish-Palestinian social compact.

Palestinian Solidarity

For the first time, Hamas determined to act in solidarity with its Palestinian brothers and sisters under attack inside Israel. When Hamas supporters saw Israeli police invade and defile Al Aqsa, they could not stand back and watch. Hamas demanded that Israel withdraw from the Haram al Sharif. When the Israeli government ignored the warning, the militant group began firing missiles into Israel.

The volleys of Hamas rockets then brought a fearsome Israeli response. But unlike in the past, when Gaza fought Israel virtually alone, this time Palestinians on the West Bank rallied to support them. Israeli troops responded with live ammunition across the West Bank and nearly 30 Palestinians died there as a result.

Jordanians too rallied at the Allenby Bridge crossing into the West Bank to support their Palestinian brothers. Rockets were even fired from southern Lebanon and Syria, though they did little damage. All this offers a sobering reminder to Israel that in the future it may have to fight wars on multiple fronts.

Hamas came out of the fight victorious both among Palestinians and the world at large. The Palestinian Authority, headed by Mahmoud Abbas, stood by as a distant spectator. It was politically irrelevant. A neutered bystander.

Though Netanyahu and Israel’s supporters—including initially US President Biden—attempted to paint the Israeli assault as “defending Israel” from Hamas missiles, no one was buying it. Hundreds of thousands protested (150,000 in a single event in London) in major cities throughout the globe. There were similar demonstrations in many American cities. Nor were these ordinary events with a handful of Palestinian supporters. The rallies brought outraged citizens in their thousands who’d had enough of the slaughter they were watching nightly on TV news and social media. 

The Shift: America’s Unprecedented Response

In the beginning, President Biden dutifully sided with Israel. He and his secretary of state expressed solidarity with Israelis cowering in bomb shelters. They barely mentioned Palestinians and were silent on the havoc wrought on Gaza. 

Yet, the toppling of the media office tower, housing 20 foreign media outlets, was a turning point. It was something like the 9/11 moment of this war. After this, nothing was the same. The world could no longer avert its eyes. 

As the tide of US public opinion turned, the progressive wing of the Democratic Party awakened. 

It began to demand a ceasefire. But still the president remained passive. As a result, the Democrats intensified their campaign by calling for restriction on U.S. aid to Israel. It was an unprecedented break from previous domestic politics, by which American military aid was sacrosanct. Anyone calling for such a radical approach was labeled an enemy of Israel and considered a political persona non grata. 

This is the setting for the fateful meeting Biden held for a brief eight minutes on the airport tarmac in Detroit, where he’d flown to showcase the new Ford electric pickup truck. In that short time, Palestinian-American Rep. Rashida Tlaib and her colleague Debbie Dingell impressed upon the president the urgency of the disaster facing Gaza. 

Within a day Biden had shifted his position. He announced that he expected a marked de-escalation of fighting within two days. Behind the scenes, Biden and Secretary of State Blinken exerted enormous pressure on a reluctant Netanyahu to call a halt to the fighting. By the end of the two days, Israel had agreed to the Ceasefire. On the Palestinian side, Egyptian mediators had secured a similar commitment from Hamas—though in truth, the Palestinians had offered such a deal within the first few days of fighting which Israel had earlier turned down. 

The Changing American View of the Conflict

As a result of successfully lobbying Biden, the Democratic left has found its voice. Though the US Israel Lobby remains powerful in American politics, the progressive wing of the Democratic Party now understands that it has power that cannot be denied. Support for Israel in public opinion polls has declined dramatically; while support for Palestine has increased. 

No longer can the Lobby cow dissenting voices into submission. An example of this is Muslim-American Rep. Ilhan Omar’s tough questioning of Secretary Blinken before the House Foreign Affairs Committee. She pointedly asked the secretary if the United States refuses to accept the jurisdiction of the International Criminal Court (ICC) to adjudicate Israeli-Palestinian war crimes, where could Palestinians look for justice.  He replied lamely, that they could look to Israel.

In fact, the ICC has opened a war crimes investigation of Israel and Hamas for the events of Operation Protective Edge and the Great March of Return. This could lead to charges being filed and a trial of Israeli and Palestinian military and political leaders for their culpability. 

In response to Blinken’s response, Omar countered, “We must have the same level of accountability and justice for all victims of crimes against humanity. We have seen unthinkable atrocities committed by the U.S., Hamas, Israel, Afghanistan, and the Taliban.” 

Democratic Jewish House members, prompted by Aipac, immediately pounced, claiming Omar had likened “democratic Israel” to “terror groups” like Hamas. They further insinuated that her statement was anti-Semitic. The stage was set for yet another assault on progressive Democrats for their sympathy toward Palestinian human rights. Yet, that’s not what happened. Omar’s fellow left Democrats came to her defense and cast scorn on the claims of the Pro-Israel wing of the Democratic Party. 

Fifty progressive groups released a statement of support for Omar, which ridiculed the claims against her and warned Omar’s opponents that their attacks threatened to split and weaken the Party. 

Instead of holding an emergency caucus meeting and demanding that Omar renounce her views, Speaker Pelosi made do with a statement of concern. The Democrats who had attacked Omar beat a retreat of sorts by accepting her “clarification” of her remarks. And they all returned to the job they were elected to do; that is, to bring the economy out of the COVID pandemic. 

America’s Flawed Gaza Response

President Biden determined early in his term that he could not solve the Israeli-Palestinian issue. As vice-president in the Obama administration, he saw the intensive efforts both President Barack Obama and Obama’s secretary of State, John Kerry, exerted to achieve a peace deal. Years of effort ended in failure due to Netanyahu’s refusal to concede a Palestinian state.

As President, Biden knew there was little he could do to overcome Israeli intransigence. Thus, he resolved to put the Israeli/Palestinian conflict on the back burner and deal with more pressing American foreign policy issues like Russia and China.

The Gaza attack upset this calculation. So once he’d succeeded in securing a ceasefire, Biden felt he had to show good faith by offering a helping hand to the devastated enclave. However, the path he has chosen shows that the president remains mired in the tired approach of the past.

The US-Egyptian-brokered ceasefire has not resolved any of the outstanding issues between the Palestinians and the Israelis. Israel continues to refuse to lift its siege of Gaza. It refuses to recognize Hamas as a legitimate partner for negotiation. It demands the release of the bodies of two Israeli soldiers killed in 2014, without offering to release Palestinian prisoners held by Israel.

Knowing this, Biden appears to have determined, as had Bush II and Trump before him, to address the conflict as a humanitarian, rather than political crisis. 

In the weeks following the Ceasefire, he has promised billions in aid to rebuild the thousands of homes destroyed by Israeli bombs. But he has not dealt with the critical issue, which is granting Palestinians political power to control their own lives. 

Unfortunately, Biden has not determined a mechanism by which the U.S. aid will reach Gaza. Since the United States has designated Hamas as a terror organization, the United States cannot transfer aid directly to the enclave. So, the US government has decided that the proper intermediary is the Palestinian Authority (PA). However, the PA can’t even speak to Hamas without having Egypt act as an interlocutor. 

Relations are so bad between the PA and Hamas that Abbas cancelled the first election since 2006 because he was guaranteed to lose. It remains hard to see how US aid will get to Gaza given this level of dysfunction from the Palestinian side. 

Furthermore, all aid will have to pass through Israeli checkpoints, which serve as bottlenecks preventing Palestinians from leaving the enclave and aid from entering. Most of the time these checkpoints are closed. The few times they are open, Israel exercises oversight, and unilaterally determines which items may enter and which are prohibited. This seems to be a recipe for failure of any large-scale program of reconstruction.

When Secretary Blinken traveled to the region for meetings in Palestine, Jordan and Egypt, he didn’t bother to travel to Gaza, since the United States considers Hamas a terror group. Instead, he confined his visit to the PA’s headquarters in Ramallah which, during the attacks of May, never suffered from a single Israel missile strike.

The War on Social Media and in the American Mainstream Media

While the political battle over how the United States addresses Gaza and the greater Palestinian-Israeli conflict continues the play out, the battle for hearts and minds has been writ large on social media platforms. 

As recently as 2016, Israel held the upper hand there as well. Executives from Facebook and Google met with Israeli ministers who boasted that the companies had agreed to censor anti-Israel content. 

Though the executives responded by rejecting the Israeli characterization of the meetings, the effect was clear in the censorship of pro-Palestine content, and deletion of accounts of Palestinian journalists and media outlets. The platforms also generally acceded to demands from the official Israeli cyber-agency to take down content offensive to Israel.

However, during the war, the overwhelming tone of posts on Instagram, Facebook, and Twitter was harshly critical of Israel. Israelis, who usually responded with vigorous defense of their country, were hard to find.

In May, over 50 human rights groups launched a “Facebook: We Need to Talk” campaign decrying its censorship of Palestinian content during the war. In a separate effort, thousands of employees of Amazon, Google and Apple urged their chief executives to stand with Palestine. Some of the employee groups were explicitly formed by Jews aghast at the carnage. Never before have these executives faced this sort of lobbying from within their own companies.

The impact of the Black Lives Matter movement on public opinion in the  United States has also played a critical role in promoting solidarity with Palestine. It has forced Americans to examine assumptions they had long held concerning white privilege and anti-Black racism, and has also increased sensitivity to human rights, which in turn has elicited sympathy for Palestinians.

Last month, 500 Biden staff and campaign alumni released a statement urging the president to hold Israel accountable and lift the siege of Gaza. Biden has never been associated with the progressive wing of the Party and thus, the mainstream credentials of the signers show that support for Palestine has become normalized among Democrats.

Meanwhile in legacy media sources proceeding the Gaza assault, journalists obeyed rigid but largely unspoken rules in its coverage. 

Reporters for major media outlets like the Canadian Broadcasting Company and Associated Press could not use the term “Palestine” in their coverage. The vast majority of op-eds in mainstream media were penned either by Israelis or think tank analysts like the Washington Institute for Near East Policy (WINEP) friendly to the Lobby. 

In all the New York Times’ op-eds on Israel-Palestine over a twenty-year period, only 2% percent were written by Palestinians. It generally buried the perspective of Palestinians in its pages. Last month, the AP also fired a young Jewish reporter because she had been a member of Jewish Voice for Peace and Students for Justice in Palestine during her student days.

When Israel bombed the AP offices in Gaza, it blew up this previous consensus. Editors are now managing to find Palestinian voices in their reports and op-ed section. Use of the terms “racism,” “war crimes,” “apartheid” and “Jewish supremacy” in Israel-Palestine reporting has become normalized. 

Jewish Voice for Peace announced a campaign for media platforms to adopt fair, transparent, unbiased editorial standards for covering Palestine. Another extraordinary shift involved both Haaretz and the New York Times featuring images of the 67 Palestinian children Israel killed on their front pages. Never before has Palestinian suffering been so prominently acknowledged.

The Battlefield of Language

Both sides in the conflict have expended a great deal of energy over many years defining words and terms to shape a favorable narrative. For example, Israel laid claim to being a western country that was both a “Jewish and democratic state.” The Israeli narrative has proclaimed that its wars are always defensive, fought to protect its citizens sheltering in air raid shelters, and its enemies were Islamist terrorists seeking global domination. Hamas was, as the narrative went, a terrorist group using civilians as human shields, as it fired rockets at a civilian population.

There were also words used to decribe Israel which the Israeli narrative held to be taboo like apartheid, genocide and phrases like from the river to the sea (i.e. from the Jordan River to the Mediterranean). Israel’s supporters claimed that terms which likened Israel to Nazi Germany were anti-Semitic. However, now this consensus among Israel supporters too has deteriorated.

In recent months, Human Rights Watch and B’Tselem issued scathing reports labeling Israel as an apartheid state. They marked a watershed, because previously Israeli human rights groups focused on the Occupation, something external to Israel, as its primary violation of international law. These new findings determined that the Israeli state itself, along with its Occupation of the West Bank and Gaza, was racist and founded on Jewish supremacy. The human rights NGOs cite 50 Israeli laws which discriminate against Israeli Palestinians citizens, along with recent legislation like the Nation State Law, as proof that the regime of apartheid extends throughout the Occupied Territories and within the State itself.

 Though likening Israeli mass attacks on Palestinians to genocide remains controversial, increasingly activists are arguing that Israel’s indiscriminate attacks on civilians; mass arrests of children; the criminalization of Palestinian arts, culture and media; and the ongoing theft of Palestinian lands, meets the legal definition of genocide as determined by the UN charter.

In the early years of the Palestinian national movement, it coined the term “from the river to the sea” to indicate its goal of a single Palestinian state in all of “occupied Palestine,” including Israel itself. Israelis perceived such maximalist slogans to mean Palestinians sought to eradicate Israel and expel its Jewish citizens.

But the recent worldwide protests against the violence in Gaza offered the same slogan, but in a different context. Most Palestinians no longer use the term to indicate the elimination of Israel or its Jewish population. Instead, it has come to embrace a vision of a single democratic state of Jews and Palestinians.

Another phrase has long been an Israeli mantra: it is a “Jewish and democratic” state, as portrayed in its 1948 Declaration of Independence. However, this is hopelessly tarnished by the country’s increasing turn toward racism, fascism and Jewish supremacy. 

The Nation State law passed by the Knesset in 2018, declared that Judaism was the only official religion. The state was by and for Jews. Non-Jewish citizens were tolerated, but not officially recognized. Also, Israel’s increasing turn to religious extremism reinforced the notion that Israel was no longer a democracy, but rather a theocracy.

The tragic events of May’s Gaza conflict have accelerated a process of decline of Israel’s moral-political standing in the world. They have also aroused unprecedented opposition within US political circles. These developments will, in the long term, lead toward a more just one-state solution offering Israeli Jews and Palestinians a democratic state for all its citizens. 

With the WHO classifying the coronavirus variant identified in India as a global “variant of concern,” the importance of global vaccine equity has received a renewed focus. The variant, officially identified as B.1.617.2, has recently been labeled as “Delta” to aid public discussion of the policies around it . Given the lack of robust data on infected individuals, conservative estimates suggest that as many as 400 million people may be affected in India. Since vaccines are one of the most effective methods to stop the transmission of the virus, these developments underscore the importance of distributing the vaccine to as many people as quickly as possible. Now, with the US supporting the IP waiver on COVID supplies, there is a possibility that more countries might be able to manufacture vaccines. 

Even if some countries take the lead in manufacturing COVID vaccines, there needs to be an implementation strategy for their equitable distribution among different countries. With varying health care and financial resources, different countries have already engaged in “vaccine nationalism” — a scenario where countries that developed the vaccine are unfairly prioritizing their own populations at the expense of developing nations who may not have the resources but require the vaccine more urgently (such as the current need in India). 

In addition to the healthcare consequences, there are global ramifications for not containing the spread of coronavirus variants (including Delta). To begin with, the variant can prolong international travel restrictions, demonstrated by the impact these variants are having in places such as Hong Kong and the United Kingdom, which could further derail opportunities for business initiatives and education for international students. India, for example, is also one of the largest manufacturers of medications, especially vaccines, and as long as the crisis persists, the global vaccine supply chains could be severely impacted. Recently, the United States Chamber of Commerce has also underscored how the ongoing surge in infections can jeopardize the recovery of large parts of the global economy, especially since much of the back-office operations for numerous global companies are based in India. 

The moral case for global vaccine equity has been clear from the beginning of the pandemic. We have already witnessed how the impact of the pandemic has been disproportionately felt by racial minorities in developed nations and the economically disadvantaged in developing ones. Internationally, the pandemic has also upended the progress of ongoing efforts in global health care delivery, on diseases that consume millions of lives per year, including tuberculosis and malaria. 

From an economic perspective, a recent analysis from the National Bureau of Economic Research (NBER) demonstrated that if low- and middle-income countries are not able to vaccinate more than half of their populations, the loss to the global economy would amount to approximately $4 trillion. The loss increases to $9 trillion if these countries are unable to vaccinate their populations at all. The research also reveals that this economic burden will fall on the United States, Japan, and countries in Europe. Much of this loss is already evident, not only at the macro level, such as the economic trajectory of different countries, but also on the micro-level, with the curtailment of educational opportunities in schools and universities. 

In addition, with targeted vaccine delivery strategies lacking, variants of the virus are spreading unabatedly, which further complicates the opportunities to control the pandemic. This impact will not be limited to countries in South Asia. Worryingly, given the similarities in healthcare infrastructure and demographics (young populations, large rural distribution of people) between South Asia and Africa, policymakers in African countries need to play a proactive role. The Delta variant was first observed in Uganda and has already spread to eight other African countries. Given the highly transmissible nature of this variant and its tendency to affect young people, healthcare policymakers in African countries also need to develop implementation strategies that can help vaccinate vulnerable groups as quickly and effectively as possible.  

In African countries, in addition to promoting non-pharmaceutical interventions (masks, physical distance, hygiene), policymakers also need to invest resources in developing consistent and evidence-based messaging, as complacency was one of the driving factors behind the unmitigated spread in India. Additionally, with only 2 percent of the population vaccinated in Africa, government and public health leaders must develop protocols that address gaps in vaccine awareness, prioritization, and delivery methods. 

Last fall, more than 150 countries committed to joining the COVAX Facility, a global initiative that aims to ensure equitable distribution of COVID vaccines by contributing towards a purchasing pool organized by WHO and other non-governmental organizations. As a first step, WHO has recommended that countries initially obtain vaccine doses proportional to their populations, until all countries attain vaccine rates of 20 percent. The next step in the WHO plan is to enable the expansion of vaccination coverage, depending on a country’s vulnerability to COVID. However, health policy and bioethics researchers from more than a dozen global universities disagree with this approach. Instead, they have proposed a novel framework for global vaccine distribution, called the “Fair Priority Model,” which is based on moral concerns and the current needs of different countries. 

With more dangerous variants (Delta and Gamma) spreading to numerous countries, this framework can inform developing country-specific guidelines. The distribution framework is based on three ethical principles: benefiting people and limiting harm, prioritizing the disadvantaged, and promoting equal moral concern. These principles are guided by the belief that any allocation of the COVID vaccine will require alleviation of the impact of the pandemic in the future. 

This model can be implemented in three phases. The first phase focuses on reducing foreseeable premature deaths, the second phase on reducing economic or social harm, and the last phase on reducing the transmission of coronavirus within a community. 

For phase one implementation of the model, policymakers should use population metrics, such as Standard Expected Years of Life Lost (SEYLL) averted per dose of vaccine, especially for calculating unnecessary deaths. SEYLL is defined as “a person’s life expectancy at each age as estimated on the basis of the lowest observed age-specific mortality rates anywhere in the world.” Using this metric presents a more equitable, and morally defensible metric, for COVID vaccine distribution. 

For the next phase of implementation, vaccine distribution plans should use overall economic improvement in the country and likelihood of falling into poverty for individuals, to evaluate the socio-economic impact of the distribution. In the last phase, the model recommends prioritizing nations that suffer from increased rates of coronavirus transmission (such as India right now), with the ultimate goal of allocating vaccines until virus transmission is impeded, which could require up to 70 percent of the population to be immunized. 

While the tragedy in India is ongoing, the impact of not vaccinating enough people is being felt in numerous countries around the world. This is why it is necessary that global policymakers get the distribution and prioritization of the vaccine right. Vaccination campaigns offer one of the most effective ways to break the chain of viral transmission and reduce the burden on vulnerable health systems in developing economies. The distribution of the COVID vaccine is a significant moral challenge for governments around the world, but as long as they incorporate equity in their delivery programs, they can ensure the safety of their populations.  

There were hardly any tenth anniversary celebrations of the uprising which saw the ouster of former President Zine El Abidine Ben Ali and the establishment of a reformed state. Foreign journalists visiting Tunisia in December 2020 had difficulties finding suitable photos to take or any specific gathering to cover. 

Yet, the uprising’s most telling marker is found in the freedom of expression that every Tunisian enjoys and has used daily since 2011. This freedom to choose what one says oftentimes materializes in unconventional and powerful ways. 

For example, in 2014, sex workers led a delegation to the parliament demanding their right to work and the female Islamist Deputy Speaker, Meherzia Labidi, showed solidary and support for the sex workers’ employment rights. In 2016, police calling for an increase in their salaries staged a demonstration in front of the presidential palace and no group broke up their protest. In 2017, a popular TV prank impersonated the sitting president of the Republic, and no lawsuit ensued. In 2020, a protest resulted in the shutting down of a major oil production site and authorities opted for negotiation instead of repression. 

Such freedom of expression is unheard of in much of the Middle East and North Africa (MENA) region and was virtually unimaginable in Tunisia only a decade ago. 

Challenges at Home, Challenges Abroad

The vibrant political discourse and the atmosphere of freedom is somewhat chaotic and the economy is suffering as a consequence. Ten years after the fall of President Ben Ali, the atmosphere in Tunisia is at times bleak and there is much to worry about. Investors refuse to invest for fear of socio-political instability, and a number of foreign companies have decided to leave the country, often for Morocco, where the authoritarian system provides some stability.

Furthermore, the scarcity in jobs and the increase in commodity prices are challenging for those struggling to make ends meet at the end of the month. Authoritarian tendencies have also worryingly begun to re-establish themselves, both in the practices of state institutions and among politicians and their supporters.

What is more, many of Tunisia’s political parties and NGOs are empty shells that are occasionally bought by rich individuals to fulfil their personal goals and interests. For instance, scandals surrounding the purchase of parliamentarians’ votes have become a constant part of Tunisia’s political scene. Consequently, no one can deny the uncertain future that Tunisia faces. 

Observing from the capital, Tunis, one sees a never-ending political crisis, an economic situation that does not seem to improve, a dysfunctional bureaucracy, a troubled neighborhood, ongoing security threats, social problems and, since the end of 2020, an uncontrolled pandemic. 

Yet, two points should be taken into consideration when assessing the present state of affairs in Tunisia and how Tunisia relates with the world.

The first point is tied to domestic politics. The country’s degree of freedom gives Tunisians and foreigners alike the ability to express their thoughts without coercion. Most foreigners can visit Tunisia freely or on tourist visas and engage in unrestricted discussions with young Tunisians in coffeeshops without being harassed by the secret police. Tunisian citizens are therefore free to posit their opinion about the country’s state of affairs, which is usually negative. 

Parallel to this, the Tunisian state does not have any functioning propaganda machine to embellish its image. There is no official narrative that controls the picture. Prior to 2011, there used to be the Tunisian External Communication Agency (Agence Tunisienne de Communication Extérieure or ATCE). The ATCE agents used to spy on Tunisian dissidents and disturb their meetings abroad, and would decide which foreign correspondents could enter the country. This agency vanished in 2011. 

The lack of a strong official propaganda machine, coupled with the freedom of expression that now characterizes the country, creates a situation that is almost unequalled in the MENA region. This has placed Tunisia at the forefront of young democracies, but disadvantaged it in front of countries in the region where the official government narrative is able to craft an image of stability and prosperity minimizing structural problems and other deficiencies.

The second point, when looking at Tunisia today, is that the country (as all nations are) is impacted by the international context. The issues Tunisia faces are the same, if not worse, in almost every neighboring country. Moreover, across the MENA region, many of these issues are amplified by civil war, state collapse or repression. 

One issue of concern for economists and sociologists alike is the youth bulge. Tunisia, like other North African nations, has a growing youth population but fewer and fewer jobs. Also, climate change and water scarcity signal the beginning of a new era of drought and flooding in northern Africa and eastern Asia. Moreover, democratic regimes such as Tunisia’s are in crisis globally, as they see their legitimacy eroded by populist currents, interconnected netizens, and non-state actors of all kinds, from major corporations to terrorist groups. 

Finally, the pandemic has exacerbated tensions everywhere, destabilizing an already-shaken global order and inflicting a dual depression, both economic and psychological. Many of the challenges presently facing Tunisia are therefore connected to regional and global crises and not unique to its democratic transition.

The Blooming Tunisian Citizen

Over the last decade then, Tunisia has morphed from being an unadaptable dictatorship into a vibrant democracy where everything is debated and any public official can be criticized. The country has seen the advent of democracy and the birth of a Tunisian citizen, as opposed to the pre-2011 Tunisian subject. 

Pre-2010, Ben Ali’s dictatorship was among the most repressive in the world and the police state that he established was so efficient that self-censorship became the norm. 

Tunisia before 2011 was a closed-off country where clusters of protests sprung up but were either crushed or isolated. Proponents of Political Islam, who now form the country’s most organized group, were a marginal political force between the early 1990s and the year 2011. The Tunisian Human Rights League (Ligue  Tunisienne des Droits de l’Homme, LTDH), co-winner of the 2015 Nobel Peace Prize and often described as “the Arab world’s oldest independent human rights organization” was nothing but a small group of intellectuals besieged by hundreds of police officers. 

Some observers would point to the existence of civic rights before 2011, notably because of Tunisia’s advanced social regulations (such as the place of women in society), the early spread of literacy and the large number of legal civic society organizations. However, many of Tunisia’s pre-2011 democratic aspects were a mere façade, exemplified by the hundreds of government-organized and controlled non-governmental organizations (GONGOs). 

Although living in the country, most Tunisians did not participate in its public life. They were subjects: that is, they were in a politically vegetative state, citizens only in name. After 2011, the façade was lifted and, as bottom-up actions became prevalent, independent associations and political movements emerged. The citizens who gathered to protest against Ben Ali’s dictatorship, in growing and widespread masses during the first two weeks of 2011, quickly assembled as ad hoc night watchers who protected their neighborhoods between the day of the President’s departure and the reestablishment of order, a few weeks later. These citizens also started meeting to discuss the future of their country, in houses, coffee shops and other public places. That sense of citizenship was innate and new. 

The end of January 2011 is hence remembered in the Tunisian collective psyche as an idyllic period of cohabitation and civic awareness. It marks the foundation stone of the transition to democracy, when Tunisians became citizens of their own state, no longer passive subjects of an alien regime.

What Came Next is the New Tunisia…

In the heady days of 2011, media outlets started debating democracy, dictatorship, secularism, privatization and really anything and everything under the sun. Meanwhile, the president, parliament speaker, and any senior official became daily targets of the media. 

As time went by, more culturally sensitive topics, such as homosexuality or atheism, began to make their way into mainstream media discourse. Nowadays, Tunisians openly discuss politics without worrying about the listening ears of a Big Brother state. This freedom comes with onslaughts of fake news that have spread divisions and damaged reputations, yet this general openness also allows for the emergence of counterarguments and open debates. 

Thanks to their secured freedoms, Tunisians can focus on politics and participate in their country’s civic life, even if this participation is sometimes limited to Facebook engagement. Therefore, while they do feel unrepresented, Tunisians have their voices heard. 

It is now common for governmental ministers to resign after citizens stage online campaigns against them. It is also usual to encounter online testimonies of people who were extorted by police officers or asked to pay a bribe to public officials. This transparency, in turn, often leads to investigations or public shaming against these officials. 

Free elections have become a regular feature of Tunisian politics. There are almost as many political parties as members of parliament, and thousands of local and foreign NGOs operate in the country. Anti-government demonstrations are frequent and affect all sectors, from the phosphate mines to the Ministry of Interior. 

Moreover, a number of organizations and associations have emerged and thrived, gaining credibility in the eyes of the public at large and taking on an influential role of creating checks and balances in the political system. 

One of them is the state’s anti-corruption agency (Instance Nationale de Lutte Contre la Corruption, INLUCC) which receives anonymous complaints and leads its own investigations. Another is I-Watch, an independent NGO that also looks at corruption cases and hands them to the authorities while naming and shaming perpetrators and putting pressure on public prosecutors to investigate. And many other examples exist.

While traditional investors are rightly worried about the situation today, the emergence of free and strong anti-corruption bodies may build a robust platform for future investment and economic growth.

It should be considered quite an achievement then that such a national transformation was able to take place without large-scale violence or major setbacks and that the state did not fragment. 

Total Freedom for Tunisia?

Nevertheless, many young people in Tunisia dream of leaving the country as a result of the economic problems and the oppression they feel they still face. Unemployment is high, standing at approximately 16.5 percent, and prospects are not positive for the young. Restrictions for entrepreneurs and thinkers continue to obstruct dreams. Laws remain repressive and, every now and then, new waves of Tunisians are sent to jail on moral grounds such as drug consumption or homosexuality.

As a result, thousands of Tunisia’s brightest young adults have emigrated in the last decade, informally by sea for the less skilled, or with visas for the wealthier and better educated. Meanwhile, school dropouts are increasing year after year, leading to a possible lost generation. 

Multiple forces are working against improvements in Tunisia. Structurally, many ministries are still led by men and women who benefited from the Ben Ali regime and whose training happened under the former system. These bureaucrats are resistant to change. Young people, on the other hand, are not interested in getting into low-paid, low-regarded government jobs. Consequently, public institutions are now in a decrepit state. All of this means that an older generation along with the least innovative elements of society are controlling the future of the younger and better educated population. 

Those who have won the post-2011 elections have proven themselves either unwilling or unable to improve the situation. Some members of the newly elected parties have been part of major corruption scandals. This has contributed to the rise of populist actors who call for a more authoritarian state to emerge and who keep attacking political parties and disparaging the parliament.

Nonetheless, the last decade witnessed the rise of a generation that has not known what life was like under the Ben Ali dictatorship. This new generation has been socialized into an environment of total freedom. They were in elementary school when Ben Ali was toppled and saw their parents, or role models, fighting against the system. They saw that their elders were not jailed for being dissidents. They learned firsthand that police can be brutal, but that they can also decry their brutality on social media and put the uniformed wrongdoers on trial. The young have seen that they have avenues to gain their rights and dignity, and that campaigning together can achieve results. 

The transformation of the Tunisian citizen has happened in a period of global democratic recession and economic and political upheavals. The democratization of Tunisia was not part of a democracy wave but it succeeded, so far, against several waves of authoritarianism in the region. 

Tunisia’s neighbors are either hybrid or authoritarian regimes, and the global promoters of democracy (mainly the European Union and the United States) have priorities other than the tiny North African country.  Despite all odds, Tunisia has become the leading model of democracy in the MENA region. 

The Paved Path Toward a Long Lasting Democracy

Nothing is permanent of course. Setbacks to this democratic transition exist and could intensify. The Tunisian democracy could continue to develop for decades but this new system could also collapse in a matter of days. Examples of established democracies that have reverted to authoritarianism are numerous: Germany before the rise of Nazism or, closer to our times, Hungary and Poland, which have tilted dangerously into right-wing populism. 

As frustration with democracy and its institutions grow, more and more Tunisians long for the era of authoritarianism. Such a situation could be exploited by the security and military apparatuses. Citizens are so distrustful of the current political class that its removal might be welcomed. Another possible scenario is the election of a populist demagogue who would adopt the model of a Roman dictator and derail the democratic process, in the name of the common good.

But what is certain is that, ten years after the fall of Ben Ali, Tunisians live in an unprecedented democratic environment. This new and shared experience will undoubtedly shape the country’s future. 

The young generation will not accept being subjugated even if the authoritarian tide in the nation strengthens. Discussions around the political system that Tunisia needs should happen between the country’s young men and women in the coming years. The emergence of new economic structures to move the nation forward will rest on the youth’s shoulders. 

This current moment of malaise, crises and hope might be a junction point between a dying old system and one that is yet to blossom. Until time crushes the constraints of older bureaucrats and politicians, and until the expected global economic recovery begins its ascent, Tunisians have a tortuous path to cross. But at least, over the past ten years, it has become a paved path. 

The war in Yemen will come to an end.

Yet, its conclusion will not resolve the initial reasons that plunged the country into conflict, and led communities to raise arms against one another. It is likely that many of the underlying issues will continue to exist in the near future, compounded by new complications born of the war, paving the way to continued conflict. 

While peace may benefit some, it can fuel feelings of anger and resentment in others. One challenge for peace-makers is to ensure that those costs and feelings are below a certain threshold and will not be a cause of conflict. 

A peace process, due to its inherent exclusionary nature and limitations of its scope of priorities, is the first step in the fundamental reshaping of the balance of power and re-distribution of resources in a conflict-riven society. This reshaping can lead to a sustainable peace or can lay the groundwork for another conflict.

There are three risks in Yemen’s peace-making process that can create additional reasons for prolonged conflict. These three risks of possible conflict may not be as pronounced as the current crisis, yet they may result in further suffering for millions. 

The Historic Persistence of Conflict

Over the last sixty years, Yemen has witnessed many civil wars and social strife with varying degrees of violence, human cost, and destruction. 

Among these are: the North Yemen Civil War (1962-1970); two wars and multiple skirmishes in the 1970s and 1980s between the North (Yemen Arab Republic) and South Yemen (People’s Democratic Republic of Yemen); the South Yemen Civil War in 1986 that claimed up to ten thousand lives despite lasing less than two weeks; the Yemeni Civil War in 1994 between Separatists in the South Yemen and Unionists from both the North and South; the six-year Sa’ada wars between 2004 to 2010; the wars between the Yemeni government and Al-Qaeda in the Arabian Peninsula (AQAP), or in most cases between local communities and AQAP; and the civil unrest following the Arab uprisings (2011 – 2013).

All of the aforementioned conflicts have taken place in the context of corrupt oligarchic regimes, weak central state authority, ongoing small, impactful wars between the government and Yemen’s rural communities (tribes), and international interventions. 

In each of those conflicts, no healing process ever took place, and there was no institutional reform. The oligarchy’s structure remained intact and the pattern of the relationship between the ruling class and the ruled persisted with the “winners” paying little attention to the plight of the “losers” or to the collateral societal damage. 

All of this happened in tandem with the active marginalization, ostracization and targeting of some of the losers through arrests, stereotyping, land confiscations, lack of access to opportunities, and in some cases, assassinations. In that light, society was already broken before 2014 and the onset of the present Yemeni Civil War.

Causes of Conflict: Past, Present, and Future

The current conflict which began in 2014 is far more challenging than the previous ones. 

In addition to its horrific human and economic costs, this civil war tore up what was left of Yemen’s social fabric, solidified existing negative narratives and generated new ones. 

The war fundamentally reshuffled power, creating a new set of power brokers and a new set of losers. Everyone in power before 2015 has been either exiled, killed, marginalized or weakened. The old oligarchy—made up mainly of the late president Ali Saleh (d. 2017), the Ahmar family, and their allies—disintegrated, and with it, a wide network of patronage collapsed, and many benefits to the old regime’s social base vanished. 

As in any conflict, this one has multiple causes such as the imbalance of power sharing, unfairness in distribution of resources, exclusion, marginalization, and grievances; all in the context of a weak state and mistrust in its institutions. It is difficult to determine what the most impactful, or root causes were of the civil war. Nor is it possible to accurately determine the factors that could sustain a peace, or at least a future of non-violent conflict. 

Looking into the history of Yemen may give insight on the causes of conflict and factors of peace, but we should avoid overusing history to understand the present conflict. Yemen’s past and more recent history showcases important elements when discussing the current situation, but it has its limits in providing a causal analysis of the current conflict, or potential future causes. Considering that the ongoing conflict exacerbated the causes that lead to them, and created new ones, it may be more useful to take a synchronic approach by analyzing the situation, using case studies from contemporary conflicts in other countries, instead of reading into Yemen’s history. 

In thinking about those possible causes both for the present conflict and possible future conflicts, it is important for policymakers to consider the risks embedded in the process of peacemaking in Yemen. These risks could lead to peace generated causes which could transform the situation from an outright war to a protracted conflict. 

Peace brokers need to think carefully on the following challenges/risks to a real peace in Yemen: inclusion; transitional justice; and overlooking dehumanization. The first two are directly generated by peace mechanisms, and the third is due to the limitations of any peace process. 

The Risk of Inclusion

Much of the rhetoric on securing a lasting peace in Yemen is faction focused and inclusion based. The premise is that without the buy-in of all the existing military, social, and political factions—including tribal groups, local authorities, political parties, women’s and youth groups and other civil society actors— in a negotiated settlement and in subsequent power-sharing arrangements, it will not be possible to reach or sustain a political settlement, let alone create a lasting peace. 

Inclusivity is definitely a key facilitator for peace. However, if done wrong, it could also be a cause for stalling the peace process, delegitimizing the peace when established, and being a harbinger for future conflict by legitimating—and institutionalising—existing fault lines and conflict constructed identities. 

The experience, challenges and learnings from the Yemen National Dialogue Conference (NDC), a UN sponsored transitional dialogue between 2013-2014, should be a lesson. It took the NDC almost a year before it settled on the issue of representation, and even then, many Yemenis believed that it was not inclusive. The forum’s size was too large for effective discussions on complex issues and the key decisions being taken ended up in the hands of a few. Civil society activists and women who had international visibility but lacked broad grassroots support were placed in positions of power at the expense of other activists or women with wider social representation.

The result was that many of those who mattered were excluded, and many of those who did not matter were included and the old guard overtook the process. The NDC still succeeded in many ways, but mainly due to the influence of its international sponsors and that it was taking place under the umbrella of Yemen’s, albeit weak, government.

In post-war scenarios, the situation will be more complex than prior to the war when meetings like the NDC were held. Similar mistakes can happen again and have serious implications on the possibilities of a sustainable peace. 

A key matter to consider in the inclusion process is the risk of legitimating and institutionalizing the existing fault lines and identities. Post conflict, the current fault lines and identities are not necessarily representative of Yemen’s social fabric and cultural mosaic, nor are they expressive of its sophisticated multilayered social dynamics. 

War necessitates inflexible social and political categorization and specific forms of networks, which Yemen resists as we have witnessed in the relative fluidity of identities and loyalties during the war. Yet, a peace process that is formed under pressure to bring results, may actually cement conflict-generated categories by treating the current factions of the war as if they were a reflection of Yemen’s society and culture. A peace process could end up creating a new, unnatural conflict-prone social dynamic. 

The Risk of Transitional Justice

Transitional justice, a multifaceted process to address past grievances and abuses, has come to be a key prerequisite for sustainable peace in post conflict societies. The widespread peace narrative considers that not addressing the human rights abuses perpetrated during the course of the war, and even before, will undermine the peace. 

However, this overlooks the many global failures of transitional justice, including its failure in Yemen in the aftermath of the Arab uprisings. The same reasons leading to those failures—international intervention, elite obstructionism, and a long history of violence and grievances—persist and new reasons for failure are now in existence. 

Giving primacy to transitional justice during peacetime also overlooks the fact that the abuses and grievances have multiplied and changed during the war. As such it will be more-or-less impossible to prosecute transitional justice in Yemen after the war. 

There are now more elites who are targeted for Human Rights abuses and these elites are more powerful than they were before the war. Moreover, if inclusion is a condition for peace, then transitional justice is impossible. This is because, by design, inclusion brings in the actors who perpetuated human rights abuses in a power sharing arrangement. 

Transitional justice in Yemen may potentially add to the existing frustrations and disappointments. While some consider it an opportunity to create a political field of contestation for victims, it could create a field for contentious politics amongst the powerful and become an incubator for new forms of militant expressions of grievances. 

The issue here is not that of the “peace versus justice” dilemma, rather a “peace versus peace” dilemma. Transitional justice and inclusion are conditions for peace, and if both are to be sought together, then both have to be designed in a way that is in sync, depending on the conditions of the country, and thus far calling for transitional justice does not seem to consider this necessity to link transitional justice and inclusion 

The United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights (OHCHR) Michelle Bachelet stated that “to rebuild lives without fear of recurrence— and for society to move forward—suffering needs to be acknowledged, confidence in State institutions restored and justice done”. Acknowledging the suffering and doing justice are indeed noble aims to aspire to, but they are not necessarily a precondition for living without the fear that violence can occur again.

At this point, we should consider if Yemen is structurally ready for a transitional justice process. Peacemakers may want to consider avoiding international frameworks and delegating the task of achieving justice to Yemenis through their own traditional means, without international sponsorship as it hinders those traditions and creates unnecessary competition between Yemeni actors vying for recognition. 

While I am not an expert in peace-making, I think that as there are merchants of war benefiting from suffering and destruction, there are also merchants of peace for whom peace is an opportunity to secure a place in the future politics of Yemen. 

Peace is inherently political. 

It creates winners and losers, and there is no way to avoid that. The question of “who and what makes peace?” will always benefit some at the expense of others. Inclusion for inclusion’s sake could be counterproductive in a peace process whose purpose is to guarantee that state institutions are functioning effectively and are legitimized by the population, while minimizing the impact on the losers and maximizing the restraints on the winners. 

The Risk of Overlooking Dehumanization

The destabilizing impact of systemic hate and dehumanization, mediated and amplified through social media, is a risk factor that is not given enough attention. 

“Reactionaries”, “racists”, “boors”, “infidels”, “puppets”, “mercenaries”, “traitors”, “terrorists”, are but a few of the key labels—used by officials and influencers on all sides—that exemplify the narratives between the warring sides. This is something that will play a major role in derailing peace efforts and accentuate the potential for conflict. This dehumanization, amplified during the current conflict, may be cemented during peace, mainly due to the way Yemenis decide how to remember the war. 

Yemenis will disagree on how to characterize and remember the war. There are the rare and few who consider this war as an unnecessary evil that could have been avoided had there been less misinformation, more communication, and mutual compromise. 

Instead, the prevailing narrative is that this war was a necessary evil forced upon respective actors due to the behaviors of others. For whoever wins in the war, small or large, this war itself will actually be viewed as “good”, its praises in re-ordering political and economic structures and liberating people from unjust oppression will be sung.

Take for example the Houthi and Southern separatists’ perspectives on the positive aspects of war, and then take the perspectives of smaller players who came out better off after this tragedy. Then take the losers and of those who feel they came off badly at the end of hostilities.

The war will be remembered in a way which will most likely sustain the dehumanization narratives. For the winners, the losers and all those in between, narratives and memories of the war will transform from being a utility to serve propaganda needs, to a vital source of national and group meaning, and a means to legitimize the tragic losses. Those who died in the battlefronts will either be remembered as martyrs, traitors or casualties of an evil enemy. 

Each side needs to hold their fallen as martyrs, and that will demand celebrating the reasons for which they died. The Houthis will celebrate September 21, the date of their takeover of Sanaa, as their day of liberation from the oppression of the corrupt elite. They will commemorate March 26, when the Arab Coalition intervened, as the start of a war of liberation from foreign rule. 

Meanwhile, other Yemenis will mourn September 21 as a day of infamy and the republic’s downfall, and the end of the war will likely be remembered as a day of defeat as they fell victims to the Houthis. Southern separatists’ will see this as either the war that brought independence to the South or, if secession is not achieved, as a missed opportunity and a new form of Northern colonization.

Dehumanization, especially when coupled with religious righteousness and essentialization, encourages aggression and decreases moral inhibitions to perpetrate violence on dehumanized victims. Alone it may not be a direct cause for violent conflict, but with exclusion and marginalization, dehumanization leads to deep communal mistrust which creates a sort of security dilemma between the power brokers of Yemen threatening the volatile transition from war to peace. 

The relationship between Yemeni actors will continue to be riven with fear of the “other” alongside persistent mutual perceptions of threat, creating an ongoing downwards spiral. At best, a political settlement will lead to institutional and formal power sharing at the level of the government, but the historical experience witnessed by Yemenis has made them realize that formal power-sharing does not necessarily reflect the actual power balance between actors. As such, no amount of negotiations between parties will lead to relinquishing power, disarmament, demobilization, or breaking off from foreign allies. 

This creates a vicious circle of uncertainty about the future intentions of the “other” and fuels the quest to acquire more power for protection. Institutions born out of the political settlement will be paralyzed by mistrust, uncertainty and fear. Everyone will be expecting the other side to take over and exclude or eliminate. 

This collective perception of threat will generate collective pessimism, nurture negative memories and narratives, drive an unbridgeable wedge among the actors of any future government and poison the social environment with fear and hate. Dehumanization could be Yemen’s path to failure, and so, combatting it must be at the center of a Yemeni peace process moving forward. 

The Silencing of Guns

There is consensus that the termination of the war is not equated to peace, and that the conflict will likely continue, albeit by other means, until the basic needs of individuals and groups are achieved, or at least the acquisition of those needs is not perceived to be under threat from opposing groups. 

Peacemakers would help Yemenis by being critical of previous frameworks, models and best practices, and by eliciting creative solutions and being transparent about the limitations of a peace process. 

Peacemaking is complicated and rarely, if ever, uncontroversial.  Writing about these challenges in the comfort of a place far away from those that are suffering, is easy, and no criticism is meant towards those on-ground doing their best despite the fog of peace and the pressure of the high stakes involved. 

Yemenis deserve peace and stability, and a way out of the conflict. They need a peace process that does not undermine the durability of peace, and is creative in its solutions while ensuring transparency about what can and cannot be achieved.

Established by the Fatimid dynasty in the 900s, Historic Cairo was shaped by succeeding rulers and regimes over the centuries. The area’s unique wealth of archeological sites gives it a place among the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization’s (UNESCO) World Heritage List. Modern day residents and initiatives continue to alter and add onto this heritage; but contemporary developments in the area are bound by a complex web of legal regulations. 

The simple act of defining the legal boundaries of Historic Cairo was a decades-long process. The area has figured on the UNESCO World Heritage List since 1979; and when it was first nominated for the title, the heritage site was known as Islamic Cairo. The map accompanying its candidacy dated back to 1948 and outlined five main areas of distinguished historical significance: Al-Fustat, the Ibn Tulun mosque and its surroundings, the Citadel and Mamluk fortresses, Fatimid Cairo, and the historic cemeteries of Cairo’s City of the Dead. 

Speaking at a webinar held by the American University in Cairo’s Law and Society Research Unit, Architect and Conservation Specialist Ahmed Mansour described the 1948 map as “more of a sketch than an actual map,” as the document only defined the broad outlines of the area.  

Up until 2007, legal maps of Historic Cairo failed to include many of its archeological sites. In addition, these maps made no mention of the Salah Salem tunnel and the Ring Road, both infrastructural developments that have widely shaped and facilitated access to the area. In light of these unmentioned landmarks and developments, questions lingered surrounding the exact delineations of the heritage site. 

It was not until 2010, when UNESCO launched the Urban Regeneration Project for Historic Cairo (URHC), that a clear delineation was established. Carried out in collaboration with the Egyptian government, the project aimed to implement measures for the protection of Historic Cairo, encompassing not only heritage preservation but also socio-economic and environmental regulations for the area’s development. 

UNESCO describes the project as being “based on the assumption that the tangible heritage of the World Heritage Site can only be preserved if life is kept in it;” but revitalising the area as an urban tourist hub while upholding the needs and interests of its inhabitants has proven no easy task. 

Laws and Institutions Regulating Developments in Historic Cairo

In April of this year, the Egyptian government ordered a revamp of the Al-Fustat neighborhood, which falls into the broader project of rehabilitating Historic Cairo into a prime tourist destination with integrated services; but conservation and development efforts of this nature are bound by a multitude of often conflicting requirements. Such projects must work toward structural improvement while also preserving the area’s historical and architectural singularity. They must also attend to the interests of various stakeholders including the state, the tourism sector, and the densely populated area’s residents. 

For this reason, developments in Historic Cairo are subject to a complex legal framework. Overarching these regulations is Law 119/2008 on Unified Building. The law is primarily aimed at consolidating Egyptian planning and building regulations into one comprehensive legislation, and is divided into five sections concerned respectively with urban planning, urban harmony, licensing regulations, tenant unions, and penalties. The second and third sections rely on certain foundations and standards approved by the Supreme Council for Planning and Urban Development, and meticulously outline regulations from the maximum height of a building, to room surface areas, and air duct dimensions. 

Further guidelines for the preservation of historic landmarks are specified in Law 117/1983 on the Protection of Antiquities, which sets the legal definition of antiquities and places them under the Ministry of Tourism and Antiquities’ jurisdiction. Meanwhile, Law 144/2006 and its Executive Regulations set out further protective measures for inventoried buildings, and demolition procedures for ordinary buildings. 

Other legislation pertains more specifically to local governance and environmental preservation. Law 43/1979 establishes the election of local government units from governorate to district authorities, to enhance the efficiency of urban management at the micro level. Law 38/1967 on General Public Cleaning governs the management of solid waste -an especially prominent issue in Cairo, where 15,000 tons of solid waste are produced everyday, according to the World Bank. 

Assisting the efforts of legislative bodies and governmental institutions are a number of conservation initiatives working to ensure that development projects are carried out in a way that serves local communities and encourages their socio economic empowerment. One such organization is the participatory conservation initiative, Al Athar Lina (The Monument is Ours), which focuses on heritage preservation in the Al Khalifa neighborhood of Historic Cairo. 

Al Athar Lina was founded in 2012 and is run jointly by the NGO Built Environment Collective and the architectural firm Megawra. The initiative’s work focuses on three parts of Al Khalifa neighborhood, namely Al Khalifa street, the Hattaba area of the Citadel, and the Southern end of the neighborhood, which encompasses the Al Sayeda Nafisa Shrine and other historic cemeteries. All of its projects are carried out in cooperation with the Ministry of Tourism and Antiquities, as well as other government bodies like the Cairo Governorate authority, and center on the implementation of community-based conservation conservation efforts founded on participatory research. 

The reason for this emphasis on participatory research is that “when heritage is seen as a community resource, community members can see the value in its preservation,” said May Ibrashy, conservation and heritage management specialist, and founder and chair of Megawra.

Al Athar Lina’s work spans three main objectives, outlined on their website: identifying heritage nodes to conserve and rehabilitate for communal use; organizing heritage awareness activities primarily aimed at local children; and linking heritage to socio economic empowerment through the upgrading of public spaces, the promotion of tourism, and capacity building.

Since its inception, the initiative has completed the restoration of five heritage sites and two historical buildings. Their latest project, said Ibrashy, will work on the renovation of Qubbat Al Imam Al-Shafi’i, a carved wooden dome which was imported from India in the thirteenth century and placed over the Imam’s grave. 

The initiative has also launched a number of development projects in collaboration with governmental bodies and residents of Al Khalifa neighborhood, including the Athar Lina School for Art and Heritage, the al-Khalifa Community Center, and the capacity building program Khalifa Exchange, which encourages artistic collaborations between local artisans and designers for the creation of products inspired by the neighborhood’s heritage and craftsmanship tradition. 

Latest among these efforts is the Citizen Participation in Historic Cairo applied research project, the aim of which is to study three types of neighborhoods in the area which embody different aspects and challenges of heritage conservation. 

The first is traditional Historic Qasabas, like Al Khalifa neighborhood, which is home to many archeological sites and therefore rich in opportunities for tourism. The neighborhood is used as a case study for the development of a heritage conservation and management plan, working towards both architectural preservation and sustainable development. The second is modern pockets of urbanism within the historic city, like the Zaynhum public housing project. The project focused on the improvement of Zayhum’s open spaces and its integration into the surrounding area. 

The third focal point of the research was Historic Cairo’s dilapidated core, exemplified in areas like the Hattaba neighborhood, which is listed as an informal settlement. This classification creates a conflict between the laws that govern the neighborhood as a heritage site and those which govern it as an informal settlement.

The latter issue is a prominent one in several parts of Historic Cairo, including the Fustat area, where structural neglect and poverty have led to the construction of several illegal buildings over the years. Government demolitions in the area have been carried out since 2016, and increased in advance of Egypt’s historical transfer of twenty-two royal mummies to the new National Museum of Egyptian Civilization, in the world-acclaimed Pharaohs’ Golden Parade. In light of the demolitions, 771 families were resettled after the removal of over 1400 informal housing facilities; but many were forced to search for alternative housing due to lack of documentation and administrative complications, leading to strong contention among locals. 

Persisting Challenges

Despite the ample work carried out by legislative bodies, governmental institutions, and conservation initiatives, a number of structural challenges continue to hinder development efforts in Historic Cairo. Chief among these issues is the implementation of existing legislation. 

In Ibrachy’s view, “There are great laws in place for the protection and conservation of heritage in Historic Cairo, but there are some serious issues with their implementation.” 

One notable example is the notion of “Haram Al-Athar,” a key legal area concerned with the immediate surroundings of a heritage site. Law 117/1983 permits the Supreme Council of Antiquities to define curtilage areas around monuments and archeological sites, where any form of intervention is forbidden without explicit permission from the Ministry of Tourism and Antiquities. 

Common practice, however, has been to forbid interventions indiscriminately, even if permission is sought from the Ministry. This canonical policy derives from the commonly held belief that listed buildings should stand apart from their urban context -one which constitutes an ahistorical approach to urban planning, as historical mosques and places of worship, for example, have historically been vibrant community centers. 

Besides its historical inaccuracy, the prohibition also hinders development efforts in dilapidated areas, like the Hattaba neighborhood. The area is home to 500 families, who have been strictly forbidden from making renovations to their homes since the 1970s. The prohibition, intended as a conservation measure for the area’s historical and architectural heritage, has had unintended but nefarious impacts on inhabitants’ quality of life. Structural deficiencies were further exacerbated in the wake of the 1992 earthquake, which wrought severe damages to Al Khalifa district and Historic Cairo at large. 

Implementing legislation in a way that benefits local communities in Historic Cairo requires, plainly, more vocal participation from community members in decision-making processes. As previously mentioned, the fourth section of Law 119/2008 concerns tenant unions, while Law 43/1979 stipulates the establishment of elected municipal councils, meant to serve as a medium between residents and local authorities. Yet, as Mansour duly noted, these laws are scarcely implemented in Historic Cairo or other parts of the city. 

Due to the relative scarcity of citizen involvement in urban planning, many development projects are launched without consulting local communities or having the necessary, transparent conversations about these projects’ timelines and objectives – because the mechanisms needed to carry out these conversations are largely absent. In parts of Historic Cairo, development projects may have the unwanted effect of gentrifying working class areas, a form of displacement which does not necessitate demolitions, but naturally arises when residents’ economic statuses do not rise to meet the growing cost of living. 

The exclusion of community members from decision-making processes is a disservice both to community members and to heritage conservation at large. As Al Athar Lina’s work aims to show, tenants and local residents have more vested interest than anyone else in preserving historical sites in their neighborhoods. 

“Managing the city is about regulating change, and this is a complicated affair,” said Ibrashy. “We need greater community inclusion in drafting laws that regulate developments in Historic Cairo. We need to include residents and community members in decision-making processes, and take their interests into account when carrying out heritage preservation or development projects,” she concluded.

As the dust settles following the ceasefire brokered by Egypt and the United States, the sheer enormity of the Israeli onslaught on the besieged Gaza Strip and the rest of the Occupied Palestinian Territory, including East Jerusalem, becomes shockingly apparent. 

The human toll—the wholesale trauma to 2 million people packed in one of the most densely populated cities in the world, half of whom are children—and the extensive damage to infrastructure are all unbearable. So is part of the political discourse, which continues to disregard the very humanity of Palestinians and ignore the reality of a colonial occupation that imposes a daily reality of violence and injustice on the captive Palestinian people. 

Israel has instituted and entrenched a repressive and racist colonial regime that disconnects East Jerusalem from the rest of the occupied West Bank, expands colonial settlements at the expense of Palestinian rights, resources, and property; and lays an illegal siege to the Gaza Strip’s battered population. In parallel, it has instituted a series of racist and discriminatory laws that specifically target the Palestinian citizens of Israel while encouraging and colluding with far-right settler groups set up to overtake Palestinian towns and neighborhoods, especially in major cities like Lydd, Haifa, and others. 

The daily reality for all Palestinians within and beyond the Green Line, even without this latest round of aggression, is one of dispossession, structural violence, discrimination and denial of basic rights. The latest Israeli aggression, just like the previous ones, is about maintaining this unacceptable status quo. 

So, while a ceasefire is now in effect, reverting to the tried-tested-and-failed political formulas will only guarantee its failure. Without a clear and credible vision of how to end the Israeli colonial occupation, this ceasefire will be futile. Focusing political efforts on returning to the status quo ante would be equally counterproductive. These are tried and failed formulas that have outlived their utility. 

Ending the Business of Occupation

Instead, focus must be on countering Israel’s impunity as well as putting an end to the profitable occupation enterprise, politically and economically. Providing Israel with a free pass to crush and destroy at will in order to maintain its grip on Palestine while demanding that Palestinians acquiesce in silence must become a feature of an embarrassing past. The narrative and mindset that equates the oppressed with the  oppressor must also be rejected, as was recently the case in the U.S. Congress and in cities across the United States and around the world. 

Policymakers must look at the situation with both eyes wide open. They can no longer ignore the daily Israeli incitement against Palestinian rights or the lynch mobs that attacked Palestinian citizens of Israel chanting “death to the Arabs”.  They must recognize and reject Israel’s policies against the Palestinian people, which are based on the denial and attempted erasure of Palestinian national existence and identity; whether by calling Palestinian citizens of Israel “Arabs”, using terms such as “Gazans” and “West Bank Palestinians”, or through racist laws that legitimate discrimination against and dispossession of Palestinians. They have to accept that this dismal reality is at the very least partly a product of their own policies and actions, including the unconditional financial and military support provided to Israel in addition to protecting Israel from any form of accountability or criticism.  

The European Union, Israel’s largest trading partner, cannot continue waiting for the U.S. to act or accept to be hijacked by rightwing governments like that of Hungary in the name of maintaining consensus. At a minimum, Europe must use the leverage it has to compel Israel to respect EU laws, not just Palestinian rights.  

The Biden administration must also come to terms with shifting policy grounds at the popular level, especially among Democrats. Positive developments like the opening of the U.S. Consulate in Jerusalem are a drop in a bottomless bucket. Much more can and should be done for the Biden administration to mend the fences Donald Trump crushed with his destructive policies. That would also require a new approach from Washington that abandons the obsession with managing the conflict and promoting an endless, and futile, political process. 

The latest onslaught has also exposed the morally and politically defunct normalization accords with some Arab countries, which must be recognized for what they are: a failed attempt to sidestep the Palestinian people and their cause for freedom. Normalizing the colonial occupation will not bring peace to the region, much less stop Israeli aggression against our people in Jerusalem, Gaza, or anywhere else in the Occupied Palestinian Territory. It will not change the racist nature of Israel’s laws that, by design, discriminate against Palestinian citizens and ensure their permanent subjugation.   

System Worthy of Palestinians

Despite ongoing Palestinian political division, the past few weeks have shown an extraordinary degree of worldwide mobilization for justice in Palestine. New generations of Palestinians have affirmed that they will not settle for anything less than what is rightfully theirs. They will not yield to attempts at fragmentation, erasure, or censorship; and they have built bridges and bonds across all imaginable divides. 

And while the ceasefire in Gaza has allowed  Palestinians in the besieged territory to rebuild and regroup, the daily reality of Palestinians is far from “quiet” or “peaceful.” The occupation and its brutality continues, as does the Palestinian struggle against its many manifestations. In the absence of a united political Palestinian front, the challenge facing Palestinian activists and emerging political players will be to maintain the momentum and keep eyes and hearts on Palestine. 

But such inspiring dignity and perseverance at the popular level requires a Palestinian system worthy of the Palestinian people. 

A renewal of all Palestinian governing bodies is urgently needed. Following the obstruction of Palestine Legislative Council elections by the PLO leadership in April, a strong push for inclusive dialogue is not a luxury but a national responsibility. It is incumbent upon all Palestinian political and civil society actors to deny Fatah and Hamas the right to maintain efforts to end the current split and achieve unity hostage to their bilateral dialogue. Instead, all effective actors, traditional and emerging ones, must be part of an inclusive and participatory national dialogue that secures a return to elections within the Palestinian National Authority and the Palestine Liberation Organization; and the reformulation of the Palestinian polity in a manner that reflects the aspirations of the Palestinian people and allows their impressive energies to thrive in service of the national cause. 

A new Palestinian direction is required, one that leads to deep and wide change and produces an accountable, representative, and dignified leadership. The current situation of deadlock and undemocratic governance is simply indefensible.

The Israeli campaign against Gaza poses a serious challenge to almost all concerned parties. As always, the main Israeli rhetoric is that the current atrocities started with Hamas bombarding Israel, and that Israel responded in “self-defense.”

However, this narrative could not be farther from reality.

Israel has always succeeded in subverting the truth and feeding its distorted discourse to the international community, constantly pointing the finger of blame at the Palestinians.

But let’s talk about the facts.

First are the prolonged Israeli military occupation, Israeli settler colonialism, Israel’s denial of Palestinians’ basic human rights (including the right to self-determination and national independence), the systematic oppression and abuse of Palestinian civilians, and the continuous siege and blockade of Gaza. 

These are the everyday realities of the Palestinian people.

Secondly, we must address the recent events, which began when Israel invaded and violated the sanctity of Al-Aqsa Mosque during the most sacred ten days of the holy month of Ramadan. Palestinian worshippers and citizens of Jerusalem were subjected to excessive, disproportionate, and indiscriminate use of force. This included beatings, the use of rubber bullets, tear gas and the so-called “Skunk Water,” arbitrary detention and other forms of aggression. 

At the same time, Israel’s relentless attempt to uproot Palestinians, once again, from their homes in the Sheikh Jarrah neighborhood of Occupied Jerusalem escalated. Simultaneously, Israeli settlers organized, for all intents, an armed militia, which was given the green light by Israeli authorities to terrorize and perpetrate all forms of aggression against Palestinian residents. 

Only after these aggressive actions did Hamas send its rockets against Israel. And the Israeli occupying power acted as it usually does, that is, unleashing massive, indiscriminate, and disproportionate violence, using its cache of the newest American fighter jets and armaments against targets in Gaza.

The Conflict’s Carnage and the New Ceasefire

These actions by Israel have resulted in approximately 248 deaths, including 66 children, and more than 1,900 wounded. There is unparalleled destruction of almost everything in Gaza. Yet, during much of the conflict, most world leaders watched silently and gave their usual pass to Israel to continue without accountability. 

The international community’s impassivity during the first days of conflict, which began on May 6, and its reluctance to seriously confront all of this carnage was an abrogation of the responsibilities of regional and global leaders. 

Nonetheless, on May 21, 2021, both the Israeli government and Hamas agreed to a mutual, simultaneous, and unconditional ceasefire brokered by Egypt. 

The Egyptian authorities, American, Qataris, Europeans, and others took the step to push the situation toward a ceasefire. Subsequently, a broad and growing demand among the international community has been that the suffering and bloodshed must stop and the call for a ceasefire became ubiquitous.

The most difficult tasks have followed the ceasefire: ensuring adherence to the cessation of hostilities, the reconstruction of Gaza, and securing the necessary financial support as well as administrative structure needed to deal with the broader picture and push for a political solution. The goal will be to prevent yet another return to the same kind of conflict in a few years. 

Israel’s Ultimate Goal:  Disempower Hamas

Despite the current ceasefire, the recent 11 days of conflict in Gaza have been a result of the Israeli far-right leadership’s attempt to weaken Hamas while nonetheless keeping it in power in Gaza to maintain the division in the Palestinian national movement. 

In recent years, Hamas has been unusually assertive. This was evident when Hamas linked the forced uprooting of Palestinian families in Sheikh Jarrah and other Palestinian neighborhoods in Jerusalem, as well as the provocative assaults at Al-Aqsa Mosque Compound, to actions the organization would take from Gaza. 

In addition, Hamas developed surprising new military capabilities that exceeded the expectations of the Israeli intelligence services. Consequently, the Benjamin Netanyahu-led attacks are part of the Israeli state’s plan to degrade Hamas’ military capabilities so that conditions in the Gaza Strip can be significantly reversed.

In this way, the political assertiveness of Palestinians in Gaza will be mitigated, while maintaining the overall policy of keeping Hamas in control of the Strip to guarantee the continuity of the division in the Palestinian National Movement and Palestinian Territory. 

Achieving this criminal and contradictory status quo is not an easy task, which explains Israel’s insistence in protracting its massive military assault.

The Next Steps for All Palestinians

Palestinian efforts have been mobilized to resist, contain, and stop this assault. However, serious thinking and planning is needed to address what comes next now that the smoke has cleared. 

Change within the internal National Movement and the Palestinian Authority that would finally enable better and more effective performance on both the internal front and the Israeli/Palestinian conflict is urgently needed. Palestinians must also be prepared for reconstruction and meeting the needs of the most affected segment, especially in Gaza.

If anything, the futile Israeli aggression proves beyond a shadow of a doubt the dismal failure of the overall Israeli policy adopted by its extreme right and the successive Netanyahu governments. This policy claims all the land of mandated Palestine, negates the Palestinian national existence and Palestinian national rights, including the right to their State of Palestine. This Israeli policy has unleashed full-scale settler colonialism and extremely oppressive measures. 

Israel is facing not only a dilemma in Gaza but also a volatile situation in Jerusalem, the West Bank, and perhaps even more painfully, intercommunal unrest between Palestinians and Israelis in Israel itself. All of this raises red flags for Israel and requires a thorough review and change of Israel’s policy. In the coming months, we will see whether this will be the case from the Israeli side.

There is no alternative to recognizing the national rights of the Palestinian people, including their right to their national independence in their State, Palestine, and the fulfillment of the rights of Palestine refugees, including their right to return, compensation, and ownership of their properties. 

Only when these conditions are met can peace prevail in the Middle East. Attempts to circumvent the question of Palestine and instead pursue normalization with some Arab countries will never succeed. 

As the world enters its final decade leading up to the 2030 United Nations Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs), many countries are often set between staying stuck in their economic ways, or transforming to embrace a sustainable future based on sustainable development. 

The United Nations explains that development is key to achieving a better quality of life. However, economic and social development, and environmental protection must work hand in hand to ensure sustainable development. However, the world is far from the ideal development standards. According to the UN, 3 in 10 people do not have access to safe drinking water and 6 in 10 people do not have safe sanitation facilities. In terms of food security, the World Food Programme (WFP) said that 135 million people suffer from acute hunger that is due to man-made conflict, such as climate change and economic crises. 

And let’s not forget the elephant in the room—the COVID-19 pandemic—  and its debilitating effect on unprepared economies and those which weren’t designed to be flexible for such crises.

While much of economics is centered around the concept of endless growth, “Doughnut Economics”, which the World Economic Forum (WEF) refers to as the compass for creating “a safe and just 21st century”,  puts social, economic and environmental principles at the center of decision-making and public policy enactment. 

An internationally best-selling book, “Doughnut Economics: Seven Ways to Think Like a 21st-Century Economist” written by Kate Raworth, an economist and co-founder of Doughnut Economics Action Lab at Oxford University’s Environmental Change Institute, and a professor at Amsterdam University of Applied Science, details Doughnut Economics in terms of how this economic theory can be used to meet the needs of the human race; all aligned with the sustainable distribution of resources. 

As Doughnut Economics aims to accelerate economic development on the social and economic fronts, Raworth’s book attempts to encompass social foundations with environmental, sustainability, and economic growth. The previously mentioned WEF article details one of her suggestions via the concept of inclusive growth, and early last month, Raworth was featured in the American University in Cairo (AUC)’s Gerhart Center Webinar Series.

In this given time, countries are expected to not only commit to sustainable development, but also to accelerate their progress. According to the Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD), the “successful implementation of the SDGs will require striking a balance between socio-economic progress, sustaining the planet’s resources and ecosystems, and combating climate change.”

The Problem with Economic Growth as an Ideal

During her talk at AUC, Raworth related that much of twentieth century economics centers on the notion of the “rational economic man”. The rational economic man is a stereotypical male figure who, she explained,  stands alone over the world with, “ego in his heart, a calculator in his mind, and nature at his feet… He hates work, he loves luxury and he knows the price of everything.” This male character is the image of twentieth century growth-focused economics and it is a rather dangerous vision, because the more this concept is studied, the more economists begin to value self-interest and market competition over collaboration and development. 

Raworth explained that, when she was a student in the 1990s, she was frustrated by the traditional twentieth century economic model which gave primacy to growth of the economy over everything else.  

“When I ask students ‘what do you remember as the first diagram you learned in economics?’ The answer is the same wherever I go. It is the supply and demand of the market. This is as if to say that the economy is the market, and that puts price at the center of our vision. Anything that falls outside of price is called an externality”.

Even though the United Kingdom (where Raworth calls home) is one of the richest nations on the planet, politicians and economic advisors there still believe that the answer to all their problems is more economic growth. 

“The goal of twentieth century economics is never drawn or made visible, but it underpins every political speech, every economic advice, every journal in newspapers, and it is (about) growth. This is not specifically growth for low income countries that need it, but it is growth for whatever level of development a nation is at; no matter how rich a nation already is,” explained Raworth.

A 21st Century Doughnut Economy

Sustainable development is at the core of Doughnut Economics, in the sense that this school of thought works to create an economic system that goes beyond supply and demand. Raworth explained that the private sector and civil society actors need to put sustainable development at the forefront of public policy, or the repercussions for the world and humanity may be unfixable.

“These ideas of ‘markets first’, rational selfish humanity and endless growth, have profoundly underpinned the situation we find ourselves in. The twenty-first century has multiple crises; a financial meltdown in 2008, climate and ecological breakdowns, and the COVID-19 lockdown that we are all enduring,” she stated. 

Raworth stressed that the growth/development-first twentieth century economic theory does not serve current economic conditions or lifestyles. The WEF’s website states that while countries consider growth to be a target, the pandemic has proved that the concept of growth can be reimagined so that employment, basic needs, and sustainability are new economic goals of nations and international organizations. 

The COVID-19 pandemic also shows how humanity is interconnected and this interconnection encompasses the sharp inequalities of gender and of race, of wealth and power, of the global north and the global south. 

Raworth stressed that the current global crises have emerged due to the systems of endless expansion. Present systems all depend on expansion models across various sectors such as financial systems, energy and industrial systems, all of which consume the Earth’s resources. Coupled with loss of biodiversity and environmental degradation, the growth-first economic system has created the ideal environment for worldwide medical pandemics.

“The Only Doughnut That is Any Good For Us”

Raworth proposed solutions for twenty-first century economics, stating that her concept of an economic donut is meant to be understood as a visual representation of the distribution of resources. 

As per the diagram above, the central circle has the 12 social dimensions that cover all of the UN’s Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs). These are the 17 goals that 193 countries adopted at the UN’s Sustainable Development Summit. The goal is for no one to fall short in the middle of the donut in the empty hole. The hole in the middle is where people do not have the resources they need for food, healthcare, housing, education, transportation, political voice and income. 

“At the same time, do not overshoot the outer ring, because that is where we overuse the Earth’s resources in a way that we break down the life-supporting systems of this planet. We cause climate breakdowns, we acidify the oceans, and we break down the web of life, so we need to stay between the boundaries,” she stressed.

“The goal of the donut is to meet the needs of all people within the means of the living planet. I believe all economics should begin here, by setting out our vision and goals. If we do not have a goal, how will we know what success looks like? How will we know what a good policy is?” asked Raworth.

While the image above showcases an ideal global scenario, the reality is that humanity has already “overshot multiple planetary boundaries on climate change, on land conversion, and on biodiversity loss” and many around the world are living in poverty, she said.

All Countries as Developing Countries

Despite the fact that the doughnut figure above represents the globe, most policymaking and government decisions take place within smaller circles, namely the leadership of separate countries. Raworth explained that researchers at the University of Leeds created smaller circles for 150 nations. 

While Norway is considered to be at the top of the development index and is arguably also viewed as one of the best places to live in the world, the northern European nation is still overshooting planetary boundaries, as is the case for most high-income nations. On the other hand, Egypt has some shortfalls and some overshoots on planetary boundaries. As per the 2020 Circularity Report, Egypt is considered a “grow country,” which means that the best way to navigate development is through sustainability across all areas, such as infrastructure and transportation.

As the world is categorized into low, middle and high income countries, each of the three sets have different impacts on the environment. Raworth explained that low income nations face the challenge of meeting people’s needs for the first time without overshooting planetary boundaries. Meanwhile, middle income nations need to meet people’s needs fully without overshooting planetary boundaries. In comparison, high income countries must meet everyone’s needs because they can afford to; however, they need to exist within planetary boundaries. 

“There is nothing advanced or developed about destroying the life supporting systems of the planet. We are all developing countries because we are all in a process of transformation,” Raworth said. 

Intertwining Economics With Ourselves 

Raworth explained that the COVID-19 pandemic has taught us that when marketplaces have to physically shut down, people realize the importance of things beyond economic growth, such as households, the government and community workers.

During the pandemic, people have become more aware that they weave in and out of identities everyday. She stated, “We may be public servants, residents, voters, teachers, or protestors. These are all crucial roles to play in relation to the state. We are also parents, children or partners, where we do unpaid caring work, usually ‘women’s work’.”

In bringing Doughnut Economics to life, Raworth concluded that, “We have to recognize that the economy is a social construct; it is embedded in society. Society itself is embedded in the living world.” 

It is truly shocking what the Palestinian people have again encountered in Jerusalem and Gaza lately. Peaceful worshipers at the Al-Aqsa Mosque in Jerusalem have been prevented from fulfilling their religious obligations during the holy month of Ramadan. The Sheikh Jarrah neighborhood of East Jerusalem has endured systematic attacks to expel Palestinians from their homes all for the gain of Israeli settlers. Such developments provide definitive evidence that Israel is an occupying power which flouts international and humanitarian law. Defining moments such as these compel states and their leaders to adopt clear positions on the issue, make impactful decisions, and undertake effective actions to uphold a global order of international law. Such is the duty of states committed to the rule of law, not the rule of power. 

The recent events in Jerusalem are shameful and appalling, yet remain altogether quite common in the history of Israeli occupation, now more than seventy years old. It is no longer suitable to merely analyze the situation, and rhetorical condemnations do not suffice. Therefore, I will limit my remarks to specific demands, recognizing from the outset that such proposals pale in comparison to the scale of the crimes we have witnessed. Rather, these are minimum demands—steps to start holding the Israeli aggressor accountable. Even though the Gaza Strip—with its entrances and exits tightly controlled—effectively lives under the weight of the Israeli occupation as well, I limit my observations to Jerusalem and its surrounding area in order to circumvent unconscionable arguments based on false equivalences and shoddy justifications about the use of force in self-defense. These arguments, in essence, recognize only the right of the occupying power to defend itself and deprive the Palestinian people under occupation of that same right.

First, it is a mistake to imagine that statements from Arab states condemning Israeli practices will resonate internationally or even among Arab countries. Besides, the Israeli government is completely ignoring such vacuous declarations. One would also be mistaken to conclude that the rhetorical focus of Arab League resolutions on conventional diplomatic efforts is credible or appropriate for the horrific events of recent days. No, quite the opposite; it is no longer sufficient to demand that the international community take a clear stance without concrete steps from the Arab side as well. Rather, Arab states can do the following:

• Present direct demands to the UN Security Council, General Assembly, and international legal institutions to discuss and adopt specific actions to affirm the illegitimacy and illegality of Israeli actions and the violation of humanitarian law. Suggest punitive action against the occupying power if these actions continue or are not redressed.
• Summon Arab ambassadors based in Israel back to their respective capitals for consultations, not in order to sever diplomatic relations but to convey to Israel a rejection of its latest actions in Jerusalem. This  would also constitute a signal that pursuing this course will carry costly consequences for Israel and strongly affect its long-term relations with Arab states. This move does not renounce Arab-Israeli peace, but does serve as an Arab denunciation of Israel interpreting such peace as a blanket license for universally-condemned action against the Palestinians.
• Take decisive measures on the national level against the occupying power. All Arab states with normalized ties with Israel should announce that access to the delegates of the occupying state will be limited to sub-ministerial contacts in their capitals.
• Stop issuing entrance visas to Israeli citizens, and do not sign any new commercial agreements between Arab states and Israel until such policies are stopped. 

What Biden Should Do

It is absurd for the Biden administration to present itself as the champion of human rights and democracy while sufficing itself with vapid statements calling both Palestinians and Israelis to equal self-restraint. Such declarations presume that what we’re witnessing now in Israeli policy is somehow new—an ephemeral, unique, and wholly unsystematic phenomenon. Enough hypocrisy! Rather, the most basic demands from the United States to affirm the rule of law are as follows:

• Recognize that East Jerusalem is occupied territory and the capital of the Palestinian state according to the two-state solution and based on the June 5, 1967 borders.
• Condition U.S. aid to Israel on the cessation of its illegitimate and inhumane policies in the occupied territory. Do not allocate future assistance to Israel until the Department of State has presented a yearly report to Congress on whether (and to what extent) its preeminent ally in the region has explicitly halted illegal practices against the Palestinian people.

As for the other states who are permanent members of the UN Security Council—Russia, China, the United Kingdom, and France—passive resolutions which fail to deter the aggressor are no longer satisfactory. Neither are statements that do not represent the tragic reality on the ground. I wonder if such states have relegated their role as a friend and supporter of Palestinian rights to the mere expression of concern. Is their responsibility in the UN Security Council limited to simply raising issues that only concern themselves? 

Such a view assumes that the Council serves their narrow interests, rather than assuming that their distinctive role as permanent members reflects their unique responsibility, as entrusted by contemporary international frameworks, to safeguard the peace and security of all countries according to the charter of the United Nations. This is not acceptable. The UN Security Council must convene and adopt binding resolutions that end the Israeli farce and deter the state from more unjust action.

I call on Islamic states, Africans, Asians and Latin Americans to stand up against Israeli practices which jeopardize the national and human rights of our brothers and sisters in Palestine and which constitute an egregious offense of our religious customs during the blessed month of Ramadan. I ask from these friends:

• Summon Israeli ambassadors within their respective countries to the foreign ministries and demand that Israel immediately cease its discriminatory practices toward the Palestinians.
•  Support the proposals of Arab states made in international forums to stop Israeli action and hold Israel to account for its transgressions.

I ask European states which pride themselves on upholding human rights, the rule of law, and humanitarian principles: are you truly committed to human rights? Or are such obligations limited to the rights of the individual now and then, as influenced by local interest groups? If so, you are ignoring the crimes against humanity committed against the Palestinian individual and people. I ask of you:

• Recognize East Jerusalem as occupied territory and the capital of the Palestinian state on the basis of the 1967 borders.
• Take the initiative in proposing measures within international legal and humanitarian settings to hold Israel to account for its transgressions of Palestinian rights and deter it from repeating those crimes.

Enough with words. It is time for decisive and concrete action.

Nabil Fahmy

Communication Strategies in Turkey: Erdoğan, the AKP and Political Messaging. By Taner Dogan, 2020, 240 pp.

Research on political communication is a burgeoning field, preoccupied primarily with the roles played by media in political systems; especially the transmission of information between political agents and stakeholders, state, media, and the wider public, which shapes global politics today. Equipped with refreshing empirical material based on an extensive understanding of political communication literature as well as theories on branding and Americanization, Taner Doğan’s recent book, Communication Strategies in Turkey: Erdoğan, the AKP and Political Messaging, undertakes a timely cross-sectional analysis of Turkish president Erdoğan’s and the AKP’s (Justice and Development Party, 2002-present) political communication practices in the last two decades. 

The book scrutinizes how Erdoğan and his political party have used political communication in favour of Erdoğan’s populist Islamist ideology to transform the image of Muslims and religious conservatives in Turkey and abroad, as well as building a legacy that provides the foundation for a ‘New Turkey’. The book is a valuable contribution to existing studies in global political communication, examining the crucial case study of Turkey at a time when the AKP government has attempted a regime change. 

With a nuanced analysis, the book captures changes in the AKP’s political communication over time. The book benefits from a diversity of empirical material, from Erdoğan’s political rallies to election campaigns, in order to account for the style of as well as the transformation in his political communication strategies. 

In Chapter 2, Doğan reviews the existing literature on political communication and political public relations focusing on the Americanization of political communication; particularly personalization, image-making, and charisma. The third chapter scrutinizes the historical development of modern Turkey from the Ottoman Empire to the current rise of political Islam. While the book has evidently benefited from Doğan’s deep knowledge of the intellectual heritage of political Islam in Turkey, it fast-forwards other movements and intellectual heritages in Turkey, such as the status quoist Kemalist tradition and the Kurdish identity and resistance against the establishment. 

The book fails in this part to situate its arguments on political communication in Turkey by referring to any media scholars’ work on different aspects of political communication during the AKP regime, such as Erkan Saka, Bilge Yeşil, Mine Genel Bek, Murat Akser, just to name a few. The lack of engagement with critical studies on the media capture and censorship of the AKP governments over the years leads to inevitable omissions in the analysis of political communication of the AKP governments. 

Although the book mentions that the AKP government controls 85 percent of mainstream media in Turkey, it fails to discuss the closing down of alternative newspapers and media platforms through governmental decrees and the government’s subsequent designation of these outlets and their employees as ‘terrorists’. The book also does not mention how the public broadcaster Turkish Radio and Television Corporation (TRT) has become the ultimate political tool of the regime. It is surprising that a book on political communication patterns and strategies of the AKP government only mentions TRT once and in a positive light, to show how the AKP enabled minority rights for Kurds during the peace process through the introduction of TRT Kurdi.

In the fourth chapter, Doğan examines the AKP’s code of identity by highlighting the relevance of Erdoğan’s personality as the main asset of AKP’s self-branding. In the fifth chapter, the author identifies religion as a critical component of AKP’s political communication and points to how ‘one-to-one communication’ is Erdoğan’s preferred communication pattern in addressing supporters at outdoor rallies. In the same chapter, Doğan also covers Erdoğan’s shifting fashion and style over the years, which is an original addition and methodological perspective to conventional studies in political communication. Doğan observes that while the wearing of an “almond moustache” (badem bıyık) has permanently marked the image of Erdoğan and other party members, Erdoğan has also tweaked his style to meet the demands of perceived political change. For example, Doğan shows how Erdoğan started to wear green ties after the Gezi Park protests. 

In addition to the use of more traditional techniques such as communication with gestures, Doğan throws extensive light on some of the most unique communication patterns by Erdoğan, such as his reciting of poems in order to appeal to his supporters and the wider public. The book also showcases the strategic and pragmatic digital communication strategies of Erdoğan and the AKP. For example, Doğan accounts for how the AKP party members use ‘up-to-date’ techniques and tools such as selfies and Instagram to reach the members of generation Z, while mentioning more repressive techniques used by the government such as political trolls, who are paid Internet trolls that advance certain political ideologies, agendas and topics in favor of political organizations and/or governments.

Chapter 6 analyses Erdoğan’s speeches from 2002 to 2019 to discuss the evolution of political messaging in terms of human rights, freedom of speech, anti-establishment discourse, and cultural dialogue. Chapter 7 presents a perspective of Erdoğan’s communication through an analysis of Doğan’s interviews, ethnographic observations, and Erdoğan’s speeches. The last chapter is an attempt at predicting the future of post-Erdoğan Turkey by summarizing opportunities and challenges for the ruling AKP. This issue is addressed through a discussion of how the AKP is currently facing an identity crisis regarding secularism versus conservatism and individualism versus collectivism.

The book presents a thorough conceptualization of the Americanization and personalisation of political communication by situating the communicative strategies of the AKP. Yet it is not entirely apparent how theories on social movements have helped the author make his claims on political Islam and political communication of the AKP. Furthermore, the short note at the beginning of the book introduces readers to the qualitative and quantitative research methods used throughout the book. This note reveals that Doğan examined the evolution of the AKP’s communication strategies through non-participant observations, in-depth and informal interviews, and quantitative content analysis. 

The book posits the ‘I’ of the author all throughout, from Doğan’s witnessing of various political events and campaigns, to his interviews with high ranking AKP members; but the readers do not gain a sense of how these interviews were conducted and how Doğan’s non-participant observation was feasible amongst this political circle. The methodology does not reveal how Doğan was able to gain access to the headquarters of the AKP and the VIP lounges where he interviewed high profile government members such as Erdoğan’s senior advisors. 

Overall, the book embraces a critical perspective of Erdoğan’s regime, and especially of the second part of the AKP’s reign in Turkey, by showcasing the vast political powers Erdoğan has acquired after taking possession of the judiciary, military and the police from 2009 onwards. However, it also ascribes to the liberal myth of ‘positive developments’ and ‘polyphonic voices’ in the early days of the AKP government in the 2000s. Indeed, in its early days, the AKP received a carte blanche from both national and international liberals and mainstream intellectuals, leading the way to its authoritarian turn in the 2010s. 

Nonetheless, despite these shortcomings, the book throws a dynamic light on how the AKP uses public relations and political messaging opportunities to influence their target audience. Doğan’s work then makes a valuable contribution to the study of global political communication, which is an otherwise Western-centric field.

In a span of less than fifty years, the United Arab Emirates (UAE) has transformed itself from being a small rentier state ruled by the United Kingdom into a modern society running a highly diversified economy and a key regional power with a vast network of global friends and partners. 

 As the country prepares to celebrate its fiftieth year of independence on December 2, 2021, the once disunited and marginal state is now recognized as a rising middle power and the second biggest Arab economy. 

Political analysts call a middle power a state with sufficient ability to shape regional and global events. This is certainly true in the UAE’s case.

The nation has a formidable military which is strong enough to give the Gulf country the moniker the “Sparta of the Arab world”. According to Bloomberg, the UAE, which now manufactures and exports its own arms, has confirmed its first sale of air defense missiles to German security contractor Rheinmetall AG.

Yet lately, some observers of Arab Gulf affairs have noticed that the UAE may be reassessing its active regional role, scaling down its foreign military footprint, withdrawing its forces from Yemen, halting aid to the Libyan National Army, and dismantling its air and naval base in Assab, Eritrea. These same observers assume that the Emiratis have come to the conclusion that the era of the UAE’s rise as an influential player in regional power politics is coming to an end.

However, it is important not to be too hasty to eulogize the UAE’s role in the world, especially in the Middle East’s two main hotspots, Libya and Yemen. In Yemen, the UAE remains a major political power both in the north and the south of that Arabian Peninsula nation. Meanwhile in Libya, the UAE has been engaged and yet moderate in its activities.

Even if the UAE is scaling down its military footprint in Yemen, Libya, and in other hotspots, it remains determined to implement its vision for a stable and tolerant future for the Middle East and North Africa (MENA) region.

This means more, not less, bold foreign policy. Indeed, nothing fundamental has changed recently in regard to the rise of the UAE as a middle power. As it has done over the past decade, the UAE will continue to establish itself as a force for moderation throughout a turbulent Arab World and greater Middle East. What we are seeing instead of a drawdown is a pivot toward new directions and new initiatives. 

Specifically, the UAE is expecting to go from power projection to power protection, from direct regional involvement to an over-the-horizon leadership role with more emphasis on soft power rather than hard power in a post Covid-19 world. 

The COVID-19 Impact 

The Covid-19 pandemic has been a decisive moment for the UAE on all levels, including its foreign policy priorities. The pandemic has set in motion a grand rethinking of the UAE’s domestic, regional and global agenda with an urgent emphasis on domestic needs. This re-evaluation has coincided with a growing awareness of the danger of regional overreach. 

The country is sensitive to being associated with conflicts, especially in places like Yemen, which the United Nations has called the world’s largest humanitarian crisis. According to Yousef Al Otaiba, the UAE’s ambassador to the United States, “the UAE will become increasingly focused on its economic reforms over the next year, with the economy playing an important role in its foreign policy and relations”.

However, the ongoing COVID-19 pandemic has led the UAE to tactically make short-term changes in its foreign and domestic public policies. 

The long term strategic thinking of the UAE remains intact as Emirati leaders are not abandoning the decisive and proactive foreign policy of the past decade. The UAE’s momentum, both domestically and regionally, is noticeably moving forward. The country is determined to stay engaged regionally, showcase its soft power credentials and upgrade its hard power, as evidenced by the country’s weapons purchase of $23 billion from the United States, which includes advanced 50 F-35 combat aircraft, armed drones and other military hardware. 

No Scaling Down, Going Global Instead

The F-35 combat aircraft deal is meant to protect and supplement the Gulf nation’s soft power projections in the post-COVID-19 era, which will feature vaccine diplomacy and more generous medical investment. By March 2021, the country had provided 1814 tons of medical aid to 129 countries around the world, making it one of the top providers of COVID-19 aid. 

In addition to these soft power approaches, this new era is certain to emphasize financial investments, a space program, a pivot to Asia, and connections with new global powers such as China and regional partners such as Israel.

Furthermore, the country is slowly but steadily carving a role for itself as an international peace-maker. For instance, in February and March of this year, it worked to broker negotiations between Pakistan and India to de-escalate border tension, secure a ceasefire and resolve a long standing border conflict, including the resolution of the seventy year old Kashmir dispute. Recently, the UAE was asked to mediate between Sudan and Ethiopia in the two east African nations’ dispute over the Grand Ethiopian Renaissance Dam. 

This peace-brokering between India and Pakistan, and between Sudan and Ethiopia, indicates that the UAE is developing a new role on the global stage and stepping up its credentials as being a middle powerhouse.

As the UAE’s former Minister of State for Foreign Affairs and current Diplomatic Adviser to the president, Anwar Gargash, said, “We want to be a global player. We want to break barriers and we need to take some strategic risks to break these barriers.”

As such, going from a local-centric state to a regional power and now to a global player has been the UAE’s trajectory over the past 50 years. For a country that only gained independence in 1971, this progress constitutes an impressive Arab success story. 

Naturally, this success raises the question of what dynamo drives the UAE momentum and how sustainable it will be in the Arab Gulf. 

What challenges and strategic risks will the UAE face as it prepares for the next 50 years? Here are four drivers of the rise of the UAE as the Middle East powerhouse: Confidence, Concern, Cooperation and the Crown Prince. They are the 4 Cs of UAE Momentum. 

The Confidence Factor 

The UAE’s regional engagements and global ambitions are primarily driven by a deep sense of national confidence, which has been the hallmark of the twenty-first century UAE. The leaders, government officials, ordinary citizens as well as the expats of the country have never been as confident as they are now about the UAE’s resources, capabilities and potential for long-term success. The national belief is that nothing is impossible for the UAE. 

This national confidence is the culmination of tangible successes over the course of its fifty-year history. The new UAE is a modern, cosmopolitan and global society, sustained by an economy which has gone from a peripheral $37 billion GDP in 1985 to $450 billion in 2021.

Politically, the UAE has established itself among the 34 middle powers of the world. The country ranks 22 in U.S. News’ 2021’s best countries ranking. This year, the UAE is considered the first in the Middle East region and 17th worldwide in the Global Soft Power Index 2021. It is also regularly listed among the top best performers in 100 vital indicators of the U.S. News; World Report’s Knowledge; and Development Index. 

The Concern Pillar 

The UAE enjoys a global status as a stable, moderate and prosperous oasis in an insecure Gulf region and, as such, is concerned about the stability of nearby state and non-state actors. 

The Gulf can be a dangerous neighborhood with many flashpoints of conflict. Consequently, no matter how confident the UAE feels, the country has, since its inception, been concerned about the rising non-state actors, mostly Islamist extremists. These actors have become more dangerous and emboldened in their activities and recruitment drives in the aftermath of the chaos and turmoil created by the Arab uprisings, which have resulted in neverending conflicts and regime change in many parts of the Middle East and North Africa. 

One way for the UAE to deal with its tough neighborhood is to constantly upgrade its security and defensive capabilities and protect itself with the best weapons money can buy. 

As a result, the UAE has had to be proactive in its response to aggressive states and non-state organizations. The newly signed Abraham peace accord is one way to stay proactive. The accord, which was signed in September 2020, is seen by the UAE as a strategic asset that boosts its global and regional outreach. This U.S.-sponsored peace treaty has the potential to create a tripolar U.S./Israel axis with the UAE. 

These security concerns will keep the UAE fully engaged in regional affairs for years to come. 

The Cooperation Drive

In its 50 years since independence, the UAE has built a solid reputation as a team player—a country committed to cooperation and coordination between itself and other nations. The UAE is not a loner, certainly not a maverick like next door neighbor Qatar. Forging a solid network of friends and allies throughout the region has been a cornerstone of UAE foreign policy since its early years.

This commitment to political cooperation in the realm of foreign policy is consistent with the internal construction of the nation. The UAE itself is a result of political cooperation as it is a federation of seven semi-independent Emirates. 

The lesson learned over these past 50 years is that, in order to survive and thrive in such a challenging region as the Gulf and the greater Middle East, the country must build a durable network of regional allies and global strategic partners. 

The current rise of the UAE to middle power status has been possible because of the close coordination between the country and its key global allies such as the United States, Britain, France, and regional partners; especially Saudi Arabia, Egypt and the other Gulf Cooperation Council states. 

Its most pressing foreign policy challenge is the realization that neither the UAE nor Saudi Arabia alone can manage the growing power of Iran, which is widely considered the primary danger to Gulf security and regional stability. 

Consequently, coordination with Riyadh has been a strategic necessity in the post Arab Spring era. The Yemeni Civil War is the most recent case of the highest level of strategic cooperation between Riyadh and Abu Dhabi.

The Role of the Crown Prince 

Much of the recent growth of the UAE has been the work of the Crown Prince of Abu Dhabi, Sheik Mohammad Bin Zayed (widely known in the Western media as M.B.Z.), and his young and capable foreign policy and security team. 

David Kirkpatrick of the New York Times describes the 60-year-old Crown Prince of Abu Dhabi and de facto ruler of the United Arab Emirates as “arguably the most powerful leader in the Arab world. He is also among the most influential foreign voices in Washington”. 

Crown Prince M.B.Z. is solely behind the recent energy foreign policy coming from Abu Dhabi and is the real force behind the UAE’s regional and global prominence. He has built the UAE as a leading regional military power. Moreover, he has expanded the UAE network of friends, partners, and allies.

For nearly two decades, M.B.Z. has deployed the UAE’s forces in places such as Kosovo, Afghanistan, Kuwait, Somalia, Lebanon, Bahrain, Yemen and Libya. Consequently, the Crown Prince will be remembered for his lasting contribution not just to making the UAE a modern middle power but also a prosperous and stable fortress. 

Challenges facing the UAE

While the future looks bright for the UAE, the nation does have its share of challenges. 

While it has not yet reached the point of over using its considerable financial, political, military and diplomatic resources, excessive over-reach is a growing concern. 

Historically, one reason why great powers fail and fall is because they overstretch their capacities. As a newly rising middle power, the UAE is far from going beyond its capacities. 

However, the country might be shouldering too many regional responsibilities. For example, confronting Iran’s destabilizing role in the region, opposing Turkey’s aggressive regional expansionism and containing the Muslim Brotherhood’s influence after the Arab Spring were among the many responsibilities the UAE took upon itself in the past 10 years. 

Thankfully, the leadership in Abu Dhabi appears to realize the need not to overstretch itself and to de-escalate regional tensions. The leaders in Abu Dhabi understand they should not overreach, as evidenced by recent events; namely, the end of the Qatar boycott, a developing dialogue with Iran, and a possible détente with Turkey. 

Overconfidence can also be a problem for leaders of any country. Certainly, research shows that people tend to listen to and trust those who project confidence and sound in control of things. Confidence then is a cornerstone of leadership and it is good for nations as well as leaders to be confident … but not too confident. 

Time and again overconfident leaders succumb to the illusion of being invincible and then make tragic mistakes with even more tragic consequences for the whole nation. 

The closest the UAE came to this sort of hubris was during the Yemeni Civil War. Luckily, leaders in Abu Dhabi were smart enough to start to draw down Emirati troops in Yemen beginning in July 2019.

Emerati leaders also pulled away from the abyss with Iran when in July 2019—following tanker attacks in the Strait of Hormuz—the UAE sent a delegation from its coast guard to Tehran to hold maritime security talks with Iranian officials, emphasising diplomacy over confrontation. 

Finally, some of the time the UAE can over-rely on its global partners and friends. It goes without saying that building allies and strategic partners is part and parcel of international relations and the more allies a nation has, oftentimes the more power and influence the country can display on the world stage. 

To this end, the UAE has been a role model in forging a vast network of regional and global partners. For example, the UAE’s presence in the Horn of Africa region continues to be vast as it has underwritten the recent Eritrean-Ethiopian peace. The UAE maintains a $442 million commercial port in Berber, Somaliland and plans to expand its state and private investment in infrastructure, agribusiness and tourism throughout the region. As a result of these connections, Sudan, Ethiopia, Eritrea, and Somaliland are all key UAE allies in the Horn of Africa. 

European partners, meanwhile, are allied to the UAE; but the EU foreign policy regarding the UAE seems to be more unilaterally confined to individual European countries such as France, Britain, and Germany. 

As for Arab partners, most need the UAE more than the UAE needs them. So, Emerati leaders are well advised to lower their expectations of their Arab allies and instead invest in self-reliance and connections with states outside of the Arab world.

Despite all of these important connections, there still may be too much over-reliance on the UAE’s special relationship with the United States. Presently, the UAE needs the power of the United States to support it. The present situation with the United States is politically beneficial to Abu Dhabi. Nonetheless, the United States is becoming increasingly less reliable as a long term partner.

This leaves China as a possible global power with which the UAE could ally. The UAE has worked to develop a dialogue with China yet China, for its part, does not yet appear ready to be a credible ally for the Emiratis. At this early stage of its emergence as a potential global superpower, China is certainly a credible business partner for the UAE but not yet a security ally. 

Ultimately, security guarantees are what the UAE and other Arab Gulf States need most and so China does not presently compare to the United States as a security partner.

Despite all the risks, the ambitious drive forward will continue both domestically and regionally. The country is full of confidence and optimistic about its present and future. It acknowledges its humble beginnings in 1971 and is aware of where it is heading. Emiratis know what they want their nation to become. In 2024 they want to land on the moon and, by 2030, the Emiratis want the UAE to make it to the top 10 best country list. They also have a clear vision for where they want their country to be in 2071.

The US-Saudi partnership that began in the 1940s today bears all the hallmarks of a barely functional and unhappy, but essential marriage of convenience. The same basic interests that drove the two parties together in the first place have maintained the partnership through decades of tension, upheaval, and difference; and they are likely to allow it to persist in the present era, despite virtually unprecedented levels of distrust that have festered in recent years. 

Grave historic rifts occurred during the 1973 oil embargo, which gave rise to the highly unflattering cliché of the Arab “oil sheik” in US popular culture; the 9/11 attacks, which produced a great deal of resentment on both sides, particularly in the United States; and the 2003 U.S. invasion of Iraq, which Saudi Arabia strongly opposed and most Americans have come to deeply regret.

But resentments reached a new crescendo on both sides during Barack Obama’s second presidential term and the one-term presidency of Donald Trump.

During Obama’s second term, the Saudis and other U.S. partners in the Middle East, including Israel, were unnerved by nuclear negotiations with Iran and the 2015 Joint Comprehensive Plan of Action (JCPOA) agreement between Tehran and the P5 +1 international consortium, most notably the United States. The Saudis feared that, at its least, the agreement would greatly strengthen Iran at their expense, having been crafted without their input or best interests in mind. At worst, it signaled a long-term intention on the part of some or all of the Obama administration to try to develop a long-term understanding that would effectively create an Iranian-American security regime in the Gulf region. This was nightmarish and catastrophic from the Saudi point of view. In any event, that never materialized and Iran even proved unwilling to discuss anything beyond the nuclear agreement. But Saudi Arabia was shaken by the prospect they suspected was all-too-real.

Saudi disappointment with Washington was, if anything, outdone by the anger many Americans, especially Democrats in Congress—but also some key internationalist Republicans—developed toward Riyadh during the Trump administration. The strong identification between Trump and his family—particularly presidential son-in-law Jared Kushner—with the Saudi government—particularly Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman—fed a narrative among Democrats that recast much of the U.S.-Saudi partnership as a dubious Republican policy orientation, and, indeed, a Trumpian error, rather than a decades-long bipartisan position. 

These concerns took hold in the early days of the Trump administration when the new president’s first overseas trip was a pomp and circumstance-filled trip to Saudi Arabia. Added to that were increasing concerns about the human costs of, and the use of U.S. weapons in, the poorly-understood Yemen war. Almost all Democrats and many congressional Republicans were outraged at the murder of Saudi journalist Jamal Khashoggi at the Saudi consulate in Istanbul. Perceptions that Trump was effectively covering up for Prince Mohammed reinforced the impression of an unhealthy partnership and heightened disdain for the Saudi leadership. Human rights concerns, including the jailing of women’s and human rights activists; a widespread crackdown on political dissent in the kingdom; and accusations that Saudi diplomats had helped Saudi citizens evade trial on serious criminal charges in the United States all made matters worse.

Fears of a U.S. Exit

Meanwhile, doubts among the Saudis continued to grow. For all his friendliness, Trump had not allayed their fears that the United States is slowly withdrawing from the Middle East, and has been an unreliable and unwise ally. The Saudis also were concerned that the Democrats may well favor Iran and Islamists like the Muslim Brotherhood. Virtually all U.S. partners in the Middle East have been engaging in a concerted effort at strategic diversification, hedging against the relative decline in American power, global and regional influence, by seeking to increase their options and further develop independent assets. That has included Gulf Arab and Israeli outreach to new global partners like Russia and China; and to each other, as in the case of the United Arab Emirates (UAE), Bahrain and Israel. 

The days of simply relying on the United States to jump in and rescue Arab states from Middle East crises are plainly over. And going as far back as the George W. Bush administration, Washington has also been demanding more “burden-sharing” by its partners around the world, particularly in the Middle East.

In short, when Joe Biden was inaugurated in January 2021, he inherited a U.S.-Saudi partnership that was arguably in the worst condition, at least between governments, since it began almost 80 years ago. Yet, the relationship remains essential to both parties.

Despite achieving relative energy independence, if the United States wishes to continue to play a global balancing role, maintaining a dominant position in the Gulf region, which is still the beating heart of the global economy (particularly in East and South Asia), is essential. A “pivot to Asia” and a new emphasis on “great power competition” with China does not eliminate the importance of the Gulf region to the United States. On the contrary, because of the centrality of Gulf energy supplies to the economies of East and South Asia, it actually reinforces it.

Saudi reliance on the United States is even more fundamental, since Riyadh requires an international partner to help ensure its basic national security and, despite Saudi doubts about Washington, it’s obvious that no other state is currently either able or willing to fulfill this role. And, certainly, Saudi Arabia is in no position to guarantee its own security, as a failed war in Yemen and disturbingly successful Iranian drone and missile attacks against Saudi Aramco facilities in 2019 clearly demonstrate.

So, even if this is an unhappy marriage, divorce is not an option for either side – assuming Washington does not want to actually embrace a neo-isolationist policy (for which there is, thankfully, little support in Washington).

Relationship Reset

Yet, a reset was obviously required, both politically and strategically. Between them, the Biden administration and the Saudi government have taken a number of important steps to repair the relationship or create the political and diplomatic conditions that will allow the partnership to continue despite the accumulation of mutual doubts and grievances outlined above.

The main onus is on the Saudi government to show that it understands that repairs, if not amends, need to be made, and that business as usual under Trump could not continue without adjustment under Biden.

The first dramatic step came in the final days of the Trump presidency with the ending of the embargo of Qatar imposed by Saudi Arabia, the UAE, Bahrain, and Egypt—known as the Quartet. While this embargo, which began in 2018, was initially supported by Trump, at least rhetorically, neither the State Department nor especially the Pentagon approved. The US military, in particular, strongly opposed the boycott that threatened to complicate easy interoperability and communications between key military hosting sites in Qatar, Bahrain and the UAE. Eventually, this perspective won, and although the Trump administration pressed for an end to the embargo, it didn’t prioritize the issue. Biden, however, made it clear he did not wish to inherit this difficulty, and Saudi Arabia, evidently realizing that there was little more to be gained by extending the boycott, agreed to end it. The UAE initially declined to sign on, but when they realized they could not stop a bilateral Saudi-Qatari arrangement, the UAE convinced Saudi Arabia to delay the process slightly and ended the boycott by the whole Quartet.

In addition, Saudi Arabia released several key prisoners, including the famed women’s rights activist Loujain al-Hatloul, several Saudi-American dual nationals awaiting trial, and others. It commuted harsh sentences against young Shiite activists and quietly reassured members of Congress that its diplomats would not be helping Saudi nationals evade trial in the United States. The Saudis also tried to draw attention to the dramatic and impressive social and cultural reforms, especially on culture, arts and gender, that really have been taking place in Saudi Arabia in the past few years. Finally, and crucially, Saudi Arabia proposed a cease-fire in Yemen and managed to begin to recast the war in that country not simply as a reckless and cruel gamble by Prince Mohammed, but as an actual conflict with a very dangerous and fanatical Iranian-allied militia group on the other side. Most importantly, perhaps, it has made a lot of headway in demonstrating the extent to which the Houthi rebels are the main obstacle to a peace agreement in Yemen and, above all, the orderly withdrawal of Saudi Arabia from that conflict.

Essential to U.S. Interests

Meanwhile, the Biden administration has begun carefully and systematically making the case to Democrats in Congress and beyond that maintaining the relationship with Saudi Arabia is essential to U.S. foreign policy. The administration, after all, has identified two key priorities in the Middle East, both of which most Americans would find reasonable: 1) ending the war in Yemen; and 2) revising nuclear diplomacy and the JCPOA with Iran. Both of those goals require Saudi cooperation. In Yemen, Saudi Arabia is one of the main parties directly involved. With regard to nuclear diplomacy with Iran, Saudi Arabia is a crucial secondary player. It won’t be at the table, but the dangers of lacking Saudi, Emirati and, above all, Israeli buy-in for an agreement was amply demonstrated by the collapse of the JCPOA under Trump and the strong international and domestic support for his withdrawal from the agreement.

Most importantly, Biden has been attempting to effectively  move past the Khashoggi murder and convince Democrats that what can be done has been done and that the issue is, in effect, resolved as a bilateral matter at the highest level between Washington and Riyadh. He released the unclassified version of the intelligence summary on the killing, which, predictably, added virtually nothing that was not already known about the crime. The circumstantial case, particularly based on logical inference, against Prince Mohammed was neither strengthened nor weakened by the information, and even the Prince has acknowledged that as the key official, he bears responsibility. Biden also imposed travel bans and other sanctions on 76 Saudi officials and instituted a new kind of visa restriction, which it called the “Khashoggi ban”, against officials credibly accused of persecuting dissidents and journalists around the world.

It’s likely that by withholding the release of unclassified intelligence summary—which is required by law—Trump kept the Khashoggi murder alive as a controversy. This assured much more political and media attention on the issue would continue, and in turn intensified the damage it was doing to U.S.-Saudi relations. With the report unreleased, there was no way of putting the issue to rest. By releasing it and imposing various penalties and sanctions, although not enough for many critics of Saudi Arabia and Prince Mohammed, Biden was essentially seeking to send a series of messages: we take the issue seriously; we are not pretending not to know what happened or who was responsible as Trump did; we are taking some actions that are meaningful; but we are not going to sacrifice this key bilateral relationship because of a single assassination. The intention is clearly to put the issue to rest between the governments, and it may well have succeeded. Yet, more work will be needed before Prince Mohammed, who is almost certain to become king sooner rather than later, can anticipate a courteous welcome in the United States.

Continued congressional opposition to U.S. weapons sales not only to Saudi Arabia but even to the UAE suggests that the bilateral relationship remains in considerable difficulty in Congress. Meanwhile, Saudi doubts persist about Washington’s will and ability to act decisively to help its partners and friends in the region. These doubts may have even deepened when Trump took no action in response to the Iranian attack on Saudi Aramco’s oil facilities. The spectacle of the Biden administration returning to the nuclear negotiating table with Iran also revives bitter memories of the Obama era, so mutual skepticism remains a serious issue.

Arab Interests at the Table

Traditional U.S. Middle East allies like Saudi Arabia, and even Israel, discovered in 2015 that, as one would expect, they have no veto on US actions or bilateral and multilateral decisions regarding Iran. Their doubts did nothing to prevent Washington from entering into the agreement. However, the biggest problem from the Saudi perspective was not the nuclear agreement itself or even the benefits Iran derived from sanctions relief and enhanced international legitimacy as a result of the JCPOA. Instead, it was uncertainty about underlying U.S. intentions and attitudes regarding Iran and Saudi Arabia. In brief, the Saudis feared being abandoned either in favor of Iran or at the behest of Iran.

It’s imperative that U.S. leaders learn from these mistakes. While Saudi Arabia and other traditional partners will not be at the negotiating table with Iran and the rest of the P5 +1, it’s important for Washington to have a parallel dialogue with Riyadh, to make sure that Saudi Arabia experiences no sudden surprises from the negotiation and is reassured that any agreement will not come at the expense of their fundamental national security. That shouldn’t be too difficult because Saudi Arabia has an obvious interest, too, in Iran not becoming a nuclear power. If Riyadh is reassured that this is really what Washington is trying to achieve, and nothing more or less than that, anxiety should be greatly assuaged.

But Saudi Arabia, too, needs to reassure Washington about its intentions and conduct. In particular, ending the war in Yemen is essential. Furthermore, if Saudi Arabia is really trapped in Yemen by Houthi intransigence, this challenge could be demonstrated to an engaged and focused United States. But it is imperative for Riyadh to effectively demonstrate that Saudi Arabia wants to end the war and leave Yemen. And while the Khashoggi murder indicates that Washington is not going to fundamentally rethink the core partnership because of specific human rights abuses, every egregious case harms the relationship and makes it harder to move toward the day that not only is the US-Saudi relationship restored to its former glories, but that senior leaders like Prince Mohammed will be once again be welcomed in the United States.

For more than four decades the United States and the Islamic Republic of Iran have seen each other as archenemies. Washington accuses Tehran of sponsoring terrorism, violating human rights, intervening in its neighbors’ domestic affairs and seeking to acquire nuclear weapons. On the other hand, Iranian leaders categorically deny all these accusations and claim that the United States has never accepted their revolution. 

Since the early 1990s the nuclear issue has dominated relations between the two nations. By signing the Joint Comprehensive Plan of Action (JCPOA)/nuclear deal in 2015, President Obama thought to stall Tehran’s nuclear advances and use the agreement to build trust in order to tackle the other urgent challenges in the contentious relationship between Washington and Tehran.

Convinced that the deal did not go far enough, President Trump withdrew from the JCPOA in 2018 and adopted a “maximum pressure” strategy. Based on this policy Washington imposed unprecedented economic sanctions on Iran. The goal was to force its leaders to capitulate and make more concessions and/or facilitate a regime change. Tehran responded by its own “maximum resistance” strategy and despite severe economic pain, the Islamic Republic has refused to re-negotiate a modified nuclear deal.

Before taking office, then-candidate Joe Biden pledged that if elected he would rejoin the JCPOA. The expectations were that his administration would immediately lift all economic sanctions imposed by his predecessor and, in return, Iran would return to its commitments under the 2015 nuclear pact. These expectations, however, have been proven to be too optimistic. 

Instead, a consensus has emerged that a complicated diplomatic process is needed to restore confidence and keep the nuclear deal alive. To break this stalemate, the Europeans have engaged in diplomatic efforts aimed at bringing both Washington and Tehran back to the negotiating table. These efforts to revive the JCPOA raise several key questions: What are the main hurdles preventing the revival of the nuclear deal? How effective is Iran’s asymmetric warfare doctrine in challenging U.S. military and technological superiority? And how likely is the slow progress in negotiation to impact regional security in the broader Middle East?     

Setting the Stage: Washington, Tehran and the Nuclear Deal

On Inauguration Day, President Biden inherited daunting domestic and foreign policy challenges. Most importantly, COVID-19 has killed hundreds of thousands of Americans and millions more have been infected. Containing the virus and addressing its devastating economic impact have been, by far, the administration’s main priority. Other urgent domestic priorities include promoting racial and gender justice, protecting voting rights and reversing climate change.      

Given this complicated political map, understandably, domestic affairs have dominated the first few months of Biden’s tenure in the Whitehouse. The President signed a $1.9 trillion Coronavirus relief bill into law and unveiled a $2.3 trillion infrastructure plan centered on fixing roads and bridges, expanding broadband internet access and boosted funding for research and development. This is the first part of a two-fold plan that includes investing in healthcare and education, one of the most expensive in U.S. history.

Given the challenges he faces, President Biden has had to decide where to spend his political capital. As is often the case, leaders are compelled by their citizenry to focus first on the domestic challenges. Yet, in foreign policy the Biden administration has to deal with powerful adversaries such as China and Russia, restore ties with European allies and negotiate a peace agreement with the Taliban to end the war in Afghanistan, and strive to reach a new deal with Tehran. 

To further complicate Biden’s agenda, he needs the approval of a divided Congress. Democrats enjoy a slim majority in both the House and Senate. Senior figures in the Democratic Party like Senate majority leader Chuck Schumer and Chairman of Senate Foreign Relations Committee Robert Menendez strongly oppose the nuclear deal with Iran. Many senior members in both the Democratic and Republican parties have urged the Biden administration to use the sanctions imposed by President Trump as leverage to force Iran to make concessions.      

On the Iranian side, Supreme Leader Ayatollah Khamenei, who has the final word in Iran, has never trusted the United States. In 2013, Khamenei reluctantly green lit the negotiations that led to the signing of the JCPOA two years later. The Trump administration’s withdrawal from the deal in 2018 has deepened Khamenei’s mistrust and suspicion of Washington’s policies and intentions.      

The Iranians believe that since 2015 they have fulfilled their obligations under the nuclear deal and accuse Washington of violating the agreement. They argue that the United States government signed the JCPOA and the change from Obama to Trump presidency did not give Washington the legal or the moral right to withdraw from the agreement. Based on this perception, Iranian leaders have called on lifting all sanctions before any negotiations take place. They also reject re-negotiating a modified agreement that would address their missile program and regional policy.

Khamenei has the final word in the Islamic Republic but not the only one. Other centers of power in Tehran have significant impact on the nation’s policy. President Hassan Rouhani and the moderate side of the political establishment have largely been discredited. Rouhani and his Foreign Minister Mohammad Javad Zarif have invested all their political capital in the nuclear deal and the economic benefits that they anticipated would come from signing it. As a result of their failure, the hardliners in Iran won the majority of seats in the February 2020 parliamentary election and are widely expected to win the presidency in June 2021.

The assassination of major members in the political/security establishment in Tehran has further hardened the anti-US sentiments. In January 2020 Qasem Soleimani, Commander of Quds Force, was assassinated and 11 months later in November 2020, Mohsen Fakhrizadeh, the nation’s top nuclear scientist was mysteriously killed. Within this context, in December 2020 the Iranian Parliament passed a new law “Strategic Counteractive Plan for Lifting Sanctions and Safeguarding Iranian People’s Rights.”      

The legislation requires Iran to take significant steps to ratchet up its nuclear activities if certain sanctions relief measures are not met. It requires the Atomic Energy Organization of Iran (AEOI) to cease voluntary implementation of the Additional Protocol to its Safeguards Agreement if specific  sanctions on banking and oil are not lifted. The law requires the AEOI to produce more 20 percent-enriched uranium and store it inside the country and return the Arak heavy water reactor to its pre-JCPOA condition. The implementation of some of these steps has already started and will continue as long as the stalemate with Washington persists. 

Importantly, despite daunting economic and health challenges, there is a sense in Tehran that the nation is back on the right track. Stated differently, the “maximum pressure” policy, as painful as it has been, has not triggered a collapse of the political system or caused an economic collapse. The nation has successfully managed to survive Trump’s tenure. 

Iran has been the epicenter of the COVID-19 crisis in the Middle East. Last year, Iranian authorities struggled to contain the epidemic and came under extensive scrutiny at home and abroad for their delayed response and lack of transparency. The crisis highlighted the devastating humanitarian consequences of U.S. sanctions on Iran, which impeded the flow of urgently needed medical equipment and humanitarian goods into the country.      

Currently, the Islamic Republic, like other countries, is still struggling to contain the virus; however, the efforts to import and domestically produce vaccines are underway and massive inoculation has started in some parts of the country. Furthermore, since 2018, the economy has been in recession, but starting in late 2020, oil exports have increased and there are growing signs of an economic recovery. The World Bank and International Monetary Fund project economic growth for 2021. 

In foreign policy, after several years of negotiations, Iran signed a sweeping economic and security agreement with China in late March 2021. The details of this agreement have not been made public, but it has been reported that Beijing is set to invest $400 billion over 25 years in exchange for a steady supply of oil. These Chinese investments will be made in dozens of fields, including banking, telecommunications, ports, railways, health care and information technology. Similarly, Tehran and Moscow are negotiating a long-term comprehensive strategic agreement to boost bilateral relations. The benefits of these agreements may, or may not, materialize, but they send a clear message: the Islamic Republic is not isolated and does have alternatives to the United States and Europe.      

Finally, in defense policy, the authorities in Tehran seem confident in the nation’s military capabilities to defend the homeland, deter potential aggressors and project power.       

The Asymmetric Warfare Doctrine  

Since the 1979 revolution, Iran has been under different sanctions– regimes and barred from access to advanced Western weapons. Like their counterparts around the world, Iranian strategists study and try to learn from recent military conflicts. At the end of the Iran-Iraq war (1980-88), there were a number of confrontations between the Iranian and American navies. These confrontations proved that Iran’s military capabilities could not match America’s superiority. Similarly, in the 1991 war to liberate Kuwait, the U.S. military used its technological capabilities and massive firepower to defeat Iraq’s army in just a few weeks. Based on the experience learned from these two conflicts, Iranian strategists have articulated and developed an asymmetric warfare doctrine. 

The U.S. Department of Defense defines such warfare as “the application of dissimilar strategies, tactics, capabilities and methods to circumvent or negate an opponent’s strengths while exploiting his weaknesses.” The essence of this doctrine is to avoid direct confrontation with the more powerful and technological advanced opponent. Rather, the strategy seeks to focus more on political battles and less on military ones. By presenting any future confrontation as a long and costly one, Tehran seeks to convince American leaders not to start a war against the Islamic Republic. The pillars of this strategy include naval forces, ballistic missiles, drones and cyber capabilities.

For millennia (particularly since the beginning of the twentieth century) Iranian leaders have perceived strong naval forces as crucial to securing foreign trade and cementing the nation’s position in the strategic waterways of the Persian Gulf.      

Since the early 1980s, Iran has maintained two naval forces: the regular navy—the Islamic Republic of Iran Navy (IRIN)—and the Islamic Republic Guard Corps Navy (IRGCN). For decades small high-speed boats have been the key weapon system used by the IRGCN. It uses a tactic widely known as swarming to overwhelm an adversary through sheer numbers, surprising and isolating enemy forces and preventing reinforcement or resupply.      

U.S. officials repeatedly express confidence that the IRGCN would be defeated if hostilities broke out. Meanwhile, Iranian military leaders claim that their naval forces would inflict enough casualties and damage to raise the price of a victory to an unacceptably high cost for U.S. naval forces.

The roots of Iran’s missile program go back to the 1980-88 war with Iraq. The significant weakening of Tehran’s air force, in combination with Iraq’s intense use of missiles against Iranian military targets and civilian population, were the major drivers of the nation’s missile program. Initially, most of the missiles were imported from the Soviet Union, China, and North Korea, but over the years Iran has developed an indigenous missile industry.      

In the last few decades, Iran has imported, manufactured, and tested a variety of short and medium range as well as liquid and solid propellant ballistic missiles. Several European countries and the United States have expressed opposition to Iran’s growing missile capabilities and called on including the program in future sanctions relief and nuclear reduction negotiations. 

In the last few decades, several Middle Eastern states and non-state actors have acquired drones or unmanned aerial vehicles (UAVs). In the Middle East (and elsewhere) drones are widely employed in intelligence gathering, surveillance, reconnaissance and lethal operations in contemporary conflicts. This growing use of drones is due to the fact that they provide a significant enhancement in aerial awareness at a relatively low price and low risk.      

During the war with Iraq, Iran started investing in developing indigenous capabilities to manufacture drones. Reverse engineering has also played a major role in expanding these capabilities. Iranian engineers have used the technology they learned from foreign drones to further enhance their domestic production. As a result, Tehran has one of the most comprehensive and advanced drone programs in the Middle East.      

The cyber domain is one arena in which Tehran can challenge perceived adversaries without taxing its relatively limited resources. Indeed, cyber warfare is one of several toolkits in the nation’s asymmetrical warfare arsenal. In March 2012, Ayatollah Khamenei issued a directive establishing a centralized agency responsible for managing Iran’s cyber policies – the Supreme Council of Cyberspace. Other government entities involved in cyber warfare include the Islamic Republic Guard Corps Electronic Warfare and Cyber Defense Organization Basij Cyber Council, National Passive Defense Organization and Cyber Defense Command.      

It is hard to provide an accurate assessment of Iran’s cyber capabilities. The country has been accused of being behind several cyberattacks and has also been attacked by its adversaries, particularly the United States and Israel. These claims of cyberattacks and counterattacks cannot be confirmed. Neither side has ever claimed credit for the alleged attacks and, understandably, no evidence has ever been made public. Still, these allegations suggest that Iran and its adversaries will continue to build cyber capabilities and employ them against each other in the coming years. 

The Way Forward

In mid-April 2021 Iranian officials said an attack on the Natanz nuclear site damaged centrifuges and caused a fire and blackout at the facility. Israel neither confirmed nor denied that it had played a role. Tehran responded by increasing its uranium enrichment levels, in what is widely seen as a retaliation for the suspected Israeli attack. The announcement brought Iran closer to being able to enrich uranium to weapons-grade levels. These tit-for-tat steps underscore the urgent need for constructive diplomacy to resolve the Iranian nuclear issue and the threat of nuclear weapons proliferation in the Middle East.

The on-going efforts to revive the JCPOA and the broad economic, diplomatic and military confrontations between Washington and Tehran raise important questions: What are the strategic impacts of the on-going negotiation on the nuclear program between Iran and global powers? And, how should Arab countries respond? A close look at the recent developments suggests four conclusions.

First, global powers (mainly the United States, Europe, Russia and China) have always been active players in the broad Middle East and are almost certain to remain so in the coming years. Simply stated, the region is too important to be left alone. 

The world economy still runs on fossil fuels and the region holds the world’s largest oil and natural gas reserves. The recent accidental blockade of the Suez Canal in March of this year underscored the significance of this waterway and by extension the Middle East region to global trade. Furthermore, the global war on terrorism and efforts to slow climate change will not succeed without a strong partnership with Middle Eastern powers.      

Unlike the rest of the world, the Middle East lacks a treaty and a mechanism to address nuclear weapons proliferation. Global power competition provides both opportunities and challenges to Middle Eastern countries and each state, based on its unique historical, geo-economic and geo-political circumstances, should seek to take advantage of the opportunities and overcome the challenges posed by relationships with the United States, the European Union, Russia, China and to a lesser extent India.

Iran has multi-dimensional and complicated relations with all these powers. Given geographical proximity and traditional historical ties, Europe has been heavily involved in Iran (and other Middle Eastern countries). European Union and individual member states have been Iran’s major trade partners. Unlike the Trump Administration, the EU, Britain, France and Germany (along with China and Russia) did not withdraw from the nuclear deal and sought to keep it alive. They also get credit for the on-going negotiations in Vienna to bring both Washington and Tehran to full compliance with the terms of the JCPOA. However, Iranian leaders have been frustrated with Europe’s inability or unwillingness to take an independent role from the United States and maintain trade and investment relations. Similarly, Russia has been seen as Iran’s important strategic ally. However, as the recent leaked comments by Zarif suggest, some Iranian leaders are suspicious of Moscow’s policy and acceptance of a rapprochement between Tehran and the West. Finally, and despite having good relations with both China and Pakistan, Iran has managed to maintain warm ties with India. Indeed, New Delhi is a main partner and developer of Chabahar, a major port in Iran’s southeastern coast along the Gulf of Oman  

Second, the frequency and intensity of inter-state wars (wars between two professional armies) are declining. In the last few decades the majority of military conflicts have been between opposing militias and/or a state against a militia supported by another state. The conflicts in Libya, Yemen and the skirmishes between Israel and Hezbollah and Hamas are examples of this global change. All these conflicts have seen increasing utilization of “non-conventional” weapons such as missiles, drones, cyber and naval warfare.      

This growing trend of surrogate warfare has certainly animated the confrontation between Iran and the United States in recent years. Currently, there are no binding international treaties regulating and banning the use of these weapon systems. So far, international efforts at the United Nations and other forums to regulate the use of missiles, drones and cyber warfare have not succeeded. Given the threat to the region and the world, Middle Eastern countries need to work side-by-side with other global leaders to regulate the use of these weapons both regionally and internationally.

Third, one approach to address Iran’s nuclear program is to establish a nuclear weapons free zone in the Middle East (NWFZ). The decades-long efforts to establish this zone have yet to succeed. In 1974 Egypt and Iran called for the denuclearization of the entire Middle East. The proposal was adopted by the UN General Assembly Resolution 3263 in 1974. The UN called on Middle Eastern states not to develop, produce, test, or otherwise acquire nuclear weapons or permit the stationing on their territories of nuclear devices.      

Frustrated with the lack of progress, in 1990 Egypt introduced a new initiative to broaden the concept of NWFZ to a zone free of all kinds of weapons of mass destruction (WMDFZ). Israel is widely believed to be the only nuclear power in the Middle East and has never joined the 1968 Nonproliferation Treaty. As long as Israel continues to possess nuclear weapons, it is hard and indeed unrealistic to convince other regional powers to accept this strategic imbalance.

Fourth, for centuries Arabs, Iranians, Israelis, Turks, Muslims, Christians and Jews have all lived side-by-side in the broader Middle East and they will continue to do so. Like all neighbors, their historic and present relations have been a mix of both cooperation and conflict.      

The growing transnational threats from terrorism, proliferation of weapons of mass destruction and climate change create incentives for regional cooperation. COVID-19 with its devastating impact on both human life and economic development is another major incentive. The peoples of the region and their representative governments need to accept each other’s legitimate security concerns and engage in a strategic dialogue to reconstruct a new regional security architecture. Neighbors will always disagree with each other, but there is a need to denounce a zero-sum mentality in which one side’s gains are the other side’s losses. The goal then is to establish norms, rules and institutions in the Middle East to manage disagreements and promote political stability and economic prosperity.

The opinions expressed in this piece are the author’s alone and do not represent the views of the U.S. government or the policies of the Department of Defense.

The Gulf Cooperation Council (GCC) countries are known for having an abundance of migrant workers who constitute well over half of the labor force. Among the millions of expatriates in the GCC, skilled workers have played an especially important role in the growth of GCC family businesses during the latter half of the twentieth century. The guest worker visa system used to employ and manage these upper-echelon workers has much in common with the system used by the Ottoman Empire to recruit and administer elite infantry units, known as Janissaries. Specifically, both systems provide the recruits with special privileges to secure their loyalties while hamstringing their abilities to forge their own independent power bases. Consequently, the expatriate accountants, consultants, lawyers, and other assorted professionals plying their trade in GCC family companies from 1960–2010 can be seen as modern corporate Janissaries.

Moreover, the contemporary corporate Janissaries of the GCC have—just like their Ottoman antecedents during the eighteenth century—entered their twilight years, as a variety of economic and institutional developments have undermined their effectiveness. In particular, the economic visions that are seeking to transform the Gulf economies from oil-dependence to knowledge-based economies require far-sighted businesses willing to invest in homegrown research and development, and this goal is difficult to reconcile with the highly short-term outlook engendered by relying on skilled migrant workers. As a result, the time has come for GCC family companies to adopt more sophisticated forms of corporate governance.

The Principal–Agent Problem

To understand how these systems emerged and how they operate, we first need to understand what economists refer to as the “principal–agent problem”. The leader (principal) of an organization has neither the time nor ability to perform all of the organization’s work and so they must delegate tasks to assistants (agents). Think of CEOs delegating to senior executives, and ministers delegating to undersecretaries.

The leader’s quandary is: how to ensure that the employed agents function according to their interests? How do leaders guarantee that these agents do not pursue their own goals, especially when they aren’t available to monitor every decision? There is always a risk that the agent will deviate from the issued instructions in an attempt to serve their own agenda.

The Tribal Solution

The oldest and most primitive solution is for leaders to employ their kin, especially their children. Family members are genetically predisposed to having affection for one another and for having shared interests. Further, in the event of a crisis, they are much more likely to loyally stick around than are “mercenaries” from outside the family.

The appeal of hiring kin as agents is reflected in basic forms of political organization, namely the tribal structures that have dominated the Middle East for millennia. The chieftain will appoint their brothers and, when old enough, their offspring to important positions due to their relative trustworthiness. In contrast, those with weak blood ties to the leader are excluded from consideration due to a fear that they might pursue their own interests contrary to those of the leader, and, in extreme cases, mount a coup.

Family companies in the Gulf, which have been the backbone of the private sector since the twentieth century, have also favored this strategy. A founder will most likely employ siblings, offspring, and cousins, especially in positions that require trust, such as the executive team and board of directors. Analogously, family businesses have traditionally been reluctant to hire competent compatriots from outside the family circle for important positions because they cannot be trusted to serve the leader’s interests.

Institutionalized nepotism is a temporary fix, but eventually breaks down when the leader’s employed relatives start forming their own families and the organizational chart expands, creating conflicts of interest among siblings and cousins and undermining the trust advantage that tribal structures enjoy in both political and corporate domains. Moreover, restricting hiring to the leader’s kin creates a very shallow talent pool and prevents merit-based norms from entering the organization. Competitors that are able to mobilize talent from beyond the family will threaten organizations that insist on close kinship.

This is why, historically, tribal political units are only able to control limited land areas and population sizes and are easily conquered by states that have military and bureaucratic structures that are both impersonal and merit-based.

Similarly, family companies in the GCC often dissolve or splinter when ownership transfers to the second generation, and especially when it transfers to the third generation. The inability to reconcile the owners’ incongruent visions regarding how the company should be run as well as limitations to hiring new blood frequently prove fatal.

Impersonal Alternatives to Tribalism

Is it possible to have an alternative political/corporate structure where the leader can impersonally hire talented agents, and where those agents are loyal to the leader? The basic formula that leaders have relied upon throughout human history is giving their agents some sort of elite privileges that make their responsibilities highly lucrative, and then engineering the situation so that those agents don’t pursue any outside interests.

There are two broad strategies for realizing this latter goal. The first is stopping agents from having children, which can be done physically, as in the case of the court eunuchs that frequently served medieval kings, or legislatively, as in the case of the Catholic Church banning its priests from marriage and procreation. In both cases, the elite privileges play an important role, because the risk of losing those exclusive privileges and falling to the rank of a “common person” motivates the agent to remain loyal.

The second strategy, which was developed by the Egyptian Mamluks and subsequently refined and perfected by the Ottoman Turks, is to physically separate the agents from the rest of society, and to legally prevent them from passing their elite privileges on to their offspring. These are the basic elements of the Janissary system.

In particular, the Ottoman Turks—who were Muslim—used to capture and enslave non-Muslim children from Eastern Europe and Central Asia who had above-average levels of height and strength. They would be separated from their families and be raised in closed, monastic enclaves, where they would receive special training in military combat and other disciplines. Upon graduating, they would become elite units of soldiers serving the Sultan, and unlike conventional slaves, they would earn high salaries and other perks.

Janissaries were not allowed to get married until the age of forty, and even after forming their own families, the most important benefits of being a Janissary were not transferrable to their offspring: the children of Janissaries were initially banned from being Janissaries themselves, a rule reinforced by the fact that Janissaries were forced to convert to Islam, meaning that their children were Muslim by birth (while Islam permits slavery, the children of a Muslim cannot be slaves).

Janissaries were highly effective combat units that allowed the Ottoman Empire to aggressively expand its territory. Unlike tribal military units, advancement within the ranks of Janissaries was impersonal and merit-based. Moreover, the talent pool was several orders of magnitude higher than in any tribal structure. Crucially, none of this came at the expense of loyalty to the Sultan, because Janissaries were cut off from the general public and therefore unable to forge their own power bases via their own offspring or otherwise. Moreover, the threat of being excommunicated and hence losing their privileges in the event of disloyalty acted as an additional motivator.

The Kafala System in the GCC

Fast forward to the twentieth century, and the Kafala system used in the GCC has led to the genesis of modern, corporate Janissaries. Prior to the discovery of hydrocarbons in the GCC, the indigenous populations in this region were extremely small due to the arid climate. The difficulty of eking out a living meant that there were significant nomadic elements in the population, further contributing to the low levels of population growth. Moreover, the educational systems were very limited in size and scope, with higher education institutions such as universities only arising in the latter half of the twentieth century.

As a result, while the hydrocarbon reserves discovered and developed by the GCC countries gave them the capital they needed to grow, they still lacked the requisite labor. This was true both in terms of volume—the many hands needed to build infrastructure—and quality, as specialties such as doctors, lawyers, and engineers were not available locally in sufficient numbers.

A quick solution to plugging the gap in labor markets was to bring in expatriates in large numbers, and the Kafala system was designed to facilitate just that. In particular, under the Kafala system, a local citizen or corporate entity (known as the kafīl) would sponsor expatriate laborers. Sponsorship meant employing the expatriate and being responsible for them financially and legally.

Unlike Western immigration systems, the process of hiring migrant workers under the Kafala system is fast and contains minimal administrative and financial hurdles. Moreover, there are few limitations on the number of expatriates that an individual or company can sponsor. Consequently, millions of migrant workers of all skill levels have worked (and continue to work) in the GCC during the last fifty years, and they have become the dominant component of the labor force (averaging over 75 percent).

It is also important to note that, prior to 2010, the power relationship between GCC sponsor and migrant worker was quite asymmetric; with the exception of certain highly-skilled workers, the migrant workers would not have been able to change jobs during their stays without their sponsors’ approval, and their residence permits were also tied to their jobs. Further, their families could not typically accompany them. Unlike the immigration systems operated by advanced economies such as the United Kingdom and United States, the migrant workers had no path to permanent residency or naturalized citizenship, making their livelihood extremely dependent upon their sponsors.

High-Skilled Expatriates as Modern Corporate Janissaries

When analyzing the Kafala system, researchers have tended to focus on its impact on low-skilled workers. However, in terms of the Kafala system as a novel solution to the principal–agent problem, and its similarities to the Janissary system, the focus is on the skilled professionals, such as the accountants, the lawyers, the executives, the developers, the consultants, and so on.

Like Ottoman Janissaries, these workers are highly dependent on the principal. It is important to note that in general, migrant workers in the GCC—unlike Ottoman Janissaries—do not satisfy any definition of slavery, since, for the most part, they come of their own volition and are free to quit their jobs at any time (trafficking does occur, but it is not the typical case). However, under the Kafala system, even skilled professionals used to face considerable constraints on their abilities to change jobs, and their immigration statuses were tied to their sponsors, creating significant dependence similar to that of Ottoman Janissaries.

While migrant workers in the GCC almost always earn considerably more than they would doing the same job in their home country (otherwise, they would just go home), the pay gap is especially large for those with higher skill levels. For example, Western professionals have historically found working in the GCC particularly attractive due to the absence of income taxes, let alone the eye-catching fringe benefits (lodging, children’s private school tuition, business class tickets for the family to travel home annually, and so on). These are loosely analogous to the elite privileges enjoyed by Janissaries during the middle ages, and they helped ensure the loyalty of the expatriate workers to their GCC employers.

Both Ottoman Janissaries and skilled migrant workers in the GCC are agents who have weak ties to the local population and who find it difficult to carve out any influence or independence from their principal. In the case of migrant workers in the GCC, the fact that they are of a visibly different ethnicity to locals and the frequent absence of their families reinforce their sense of separation from the local population, much like the Janissaries, who used to reside in their own enclaves and who were ethnically distinct from locals.

Finally, both systems imply a large expansion in the size of the talent pool available to principals looking to hire agents. In light of these similarities, the modern corporate Janissaries of the GCC have—like their Ottoman antecedents—facilitated a higher level of performance than was possible under a tribal structure by allowing for a more impersonal and merit-based system of recruitment and advancement.

As the GCC economies grew rapidly during the 1970–2010 period, relying on brothers and offspring within family businesses started to become a significant impediment to growth, and hence to taking advantage of enticing commercial opportunities. Moreover, the rapid pace of globalization meant that improving corporate performance was not just a luxury: it was a necessity lest the family businesses be marginalized by aggressive multinationals.

As a result, during the latter half of the twentieth century, GCC family companies began to hire these corporate Janissaries in significant numbers, giving them important positions in the business, such as chief financial officer, elite advisory roles, and sometimes even chief executive officers. These were positions that were traditionally occupied by family members, with all of their shortcomings. It remained rare, however, to see nationals from outside the family occupying an important position, as they—unlike corporate Janissaries —were likely to push back against the owners, or look to advance their own agenda.

The Demise of the Janissary

While Janissaries are more effective than primitive tribal structures in both political and corporate domains, they also have deep flaws that limit their long-term viability. In the case of the original Ottoman Janissaries, the hiring system was inhumane and was gradually becoming less tolerable over time as the Enlightenment unfolded. Moreover, an important contributing factor to the system’s demise was the Janissaries’ irresistible desire to have their own families.

In fact, in the late fifteenth century, the Ottoman Sultan eventually capitulated to the Janissaries’ demands, allowing their children to enter the elite corps after three hundred years of exclusion. Thereafter, the Janissaries slowly tribalized, and the system devolved and began to exhibit the very weaknesses it was designed to overcome: factionalism, personalized recruitment, and nepotistic advancement. 

Although these weaknesses are not relevant to understanding the demise of the modern corporate Janissaries of the GCC, there is an additional weakness that does play a role. When Janissaries operated within the parameters of the original design (when children were excluded), Janissary corps were quite short-sighted, as they had little to gain from theoretically pursuing any long-term investment or other projects that would survive beyond their lifetimes, since their heirs will be excluded from bearing the fruits of their labor.

That is one reason why Ottoman Janissaries were largely fixated on imperial aggrandizement, as these efforts yielded immediate, material returns that were transferable to their children. This in turn is why an eventual major source of internal pressure in the Ottoman Janissary system was the drying up of opportunities for conquest.

The ills of fixating on short-term goals are equally apparent among the corporate Janissaries of the twentieth century GCC family companies. While government oil revenues were rising—either due to rising prices or high production—as they were for much of the pre-2014 era, the economic pie was also increasing, and so companies could become more profitable simply by scaling up their operations.

However, when economic pressures arose due to falling hydrocarbon revenues and rising populations, businesses needed to innovate in order to compete: and in the modern economy, innovation is a fundamentally long-term activity. Under these circumstances, the weaknesses of corporate Janissaries were clearly exposed. They were ill-equipped for innovation for two reasons.

First, the prospects of contributing to innovation-centric projects were unlikely as those were generally long-term ventures. GCC work visas for migrant workers are capped at two years, meaning that the risk of non-renewal and having to start afresh is salient in the minds of a corporate Janissary. Thus, buying expensive machines on which returns would take a few years to materialize, or paying for the education and training of apprentices, are all unattractive options despite their importance to technological progress within the organization.

Second, from the 1990s onwards, GCC governments have gradually been imposing nationalization policies on the private sector: or, in other words, implementing quotas to facilitate the hiring of GCC citizens. These regulations made migrant workers fearful that competent citizens could replace them. For this reason, knowledge transfer from high-skilled workers to the rest of the company—a critical element of innovation—was actively impeded by migrant workers. This can be as simple as ostensibly doing a bad job at training colleagues in skills that make the migrant worker distinctive and hence valuable.

Any organization with narrow knowledge silos is almost certainly doomed to low levels of innovation. This, along with short-term thinking, combined to generate poor innovation performance in the GCC private sector, regardless of the indicator (percentage of gross domestic product allocated to research and development, numbers of engineers and scientists per capita, scientific papers published per capita, patents per capita, and so on).

In tandem with these developments, GCC governments have also been gradually addressing the power asymmetry between GCC employers and migrant workers. Policies include the ability of the latter to change sponsors unilaterally and with minimal notice, and in the case of Bahrain, workers are even able to self-sponsor. Saudi Arabia and the UAE offer talented migrant workers the opportunity to apply for permanent residency, while the latter has opened the path to naturalized citizenship, both of which make it easier for a migrant worker to bring their family with them and to plan a long-term future. As a result, the corporate Janissary system is slowly becoming untenable.

What Will Follow Corporate Janissaries?

In the wake of COVID-19, hiring corporate Janissaries has become harder in 2021. The outlook for oil prices is grim, accentuating the need for a new organizational setup that delivers innovation. GCC governments continue to make it administratively and financially more difficult to hire migrant workers, with the scope of nationalization policies continually expanding. International travel has become inconvenient at best and literally impossible in many situations.

As a result, GCC family companies seeking to grow and innovate must start hiring citizens, and giving them important positions. The competitive landscape means that the traditional option of a small business featuring only family members is becoming decreasing viable. Companies have to work out how to hire compatriots from outside the family circle and create an environment of mutual trust.

Fortunately, GCC family businesses do not need to make any earth-shattering discoveries in corporate governance. Companies in advanced economies have readymade blueprints based on five centuries of gradual advancement in the science of business administration. Naturally, part of the traditional affinity for employing kinspeople is due to weaknesses in the legal system, but GCC governments have been aggressively reforming commercial and labor laws to support the emergence of Western-style corporate entities.

What the family businesses do need to work on without government support is their culture. They need to let go of the patriarchal mindset that sees the business managed as an extension of the household, where authority ultimately resides in one person. The government is not responsible for—nor is it capable of—explaining to businesses why it is important to have sound oversight in business, why there need to be checks and balances, why flat hierarchies can engender teamwork, why employee performance improves when management behaves in a transparent manner, and so on. These are lessons that family businesses need to work out for themselves to break out of the cycle of low productivity and growth that they have been locked in for decades.

Ultimately, these transformations will be positive. The Janissary systems—both the political/military variant and the corporate one—are primitive and exploitative. They are better than the family and friends model of running an organization, but worse than virtually every alternative that has evolved over the last three centuries and since the start of the industrial revolution. GCC businesses must heed the words of the American architect Buckminster Fuller: “You never change things by fighting the existing reality. To change something, build a new model that makes the existing model obsolete.”

The Arab countries of the Gulf are navigating a historic transition as they strive to reduce their dependence on oil and natural gas and diversify their economies. The six Gulf countries—Bahrain, Kuwait, Oman, Qatar, Saudi Arabia and the United Arab Emirates (UAE)—are at different stages of this transition, largely depending on the amount of hydrocarbon reserves each has left. Leading the way is arguably the emirate of Dubai, one of seven emirates that form the UAE. Dubai has diversified successfully into logistics, finance, and tourism and serves as a regional hub for multinational corporations. In terms of national efforts, Bahrain and Oman, under pressure from low hydrocarbon reserves, are arguably furthest along, followed by Saudi Arabia, then Kuwait, Qatar and the rest of the UAE.

While the Gulf region as a whole still has decades of hydrocarbon reserves, the global demand is expected to decline within the near future as renewable energy becomes cheaper, energy efficiency increases, and the technology to store and transfer energy improves. As a result, the prices of, and revenues from, oil and natural gas are set to fall. Gulf states must diversify their economies and get their public finances in shape soon in order to successfully transition to a post-hydrocarbon future.

Time is not on their side. There is still a window of opportunity for Gulf states to act decisively, leveraging their hydrocarbon wealth and savings accumulated in sovereign wealth funds to implement a smooth transition. However, this window is closing fast. Unless substantive policy changes are made soon, the International Monetary Fund projects that Gulf countries could exhaust their wealth within a few years, beginning with Bahrain in five years, Oman in 10 years, and Saudi Arabia within 15 years. Even these alarming projections are generous, given that they were made before the coronavirus pandemic upended Gulf economies and finances. If Gulf states continue to delay necessary reforms, they risk having to make more painful choices later.

This is not to say that progress has not been made. Gulf countries have been trying to diversify and transform their economies for decades. Every iteration has moved the needle a bit further in a positive direction. However, as we discuss below, previous efforts to expand and diversify their economies also created institutions or introduced incentives that, over time, have become embedded in the state’s political economy, maintained through bureaucratic inertia, and defended by vested interests. Subsequent reform efforts have had to push further while pulling along the deadweight of legacy policies. For Gulf states to unlock the true potential of their economies, they must redouble their diversification efforts, while mitigating the adverse consequences of past policy decisions.

Initial conditions and the birth of the modern Gulf state

During the 1960s and 1970s, Gulf states used revenues from oil production (natural gas liquefaction began in the 1990s) to build state institutions and grow their economies. However, as we argue below, these investments also created institutions, vested interests, and cost centers that now stand in the way of further economic development. Large state bureaucracies and some large public enterprises continue to rely on revenues from oil and natural gas to sustain them. However, true economic diversification requires the development of firms and industries that are economically sustainable and independent of revenues from oil and natural gas. 

In the public sector, Gulf bureaucracies grew to become quite large, employing most of the national workforce. Citizens were attracted to better wages, benefits, and working conditions than they could find in the private sector. Over time, the large public sector wage bill became an albatross, siphoning resources away from other priorities. Gulf states are loath to fire citizens and thus must wait for them to leave or retire on their own to reduce their numbers. In the meantime, young Gulf citizens are seeking the education credentials needed to secure government jobs, instead of developing productive skills demanded in the private sector. Thus, many Gulf citizens are now unable to find good work in the private sector without the support of either government wage subsidies or quotas that require private firms to hire certain numbers of them.

Private sector development in the Gulf was also government-led, spearheaded through national public enterprises across sectors as diverse as energy, banking, insurance, construction, transportation, telecommunications, and health care. While these large public enterprises initially spurred innovation and growth, they eventually came to dominate their respective industries and even to serve as de facto regulators, preventing smaller private sector competitors from growing and disrupting the industry. Many public enterprises and state-led initiatives relied on revenues from oil and natural gas to sustain them. Such large state-led initiatives continue today, exemplified by flagship construction projects like Saudi Arabia’s new mega-project, Neom, and path-breaking education and research initiatives, such as those launched through the Qatar Foundation. 

While Gulf countries like to point to these projects as signs of the advances they have achieved, such initiatives are more likely to draw on increasingly scarce hydrocarbon revenues than to promote true economic diversification or sustainable development. Despite genuine intentions to diversify their economies, most state-led diversification efforts in the Gulf have been illusory.      

In particular, Gulf states tend to invest in construction projects, whose economic returns are temporary. Long-term economic development comes from the human activity and innovation that takes place within these offices, business parks, and commercial structures after construction is completed. Real economic diversification requires Gulf states to establish sectors, industries, firms, and initiatives that can survive and thrive on their own, without relying directly or indirectly on revenues from oil and natural gas. Gulf states must nurture firms and industries that can generate enough profits to support public finances and enough export revenues to replace hydrocarbon exports. 

Incremental improvements, but new problems too

Thus, while revenues from oil and natural gas have allowed Gulf states to build public institutions and to galvanize economic development, their large public bureaucracies and national public enterprises have introduced cost centers, vested interests, and incentive structures into each state’s political economy that are not easily reversed. However, rather than reforming these institutions, Gulf countries have largely tried to work around them, but reform efforts have resulted in their own problems and have further hindered diversification. 

As a first step, Gulf states attempted to limit the size of their bureaucracies. Rather than laying off citizens or reducing their wages, they chose to reduce the numbers of foreign workers in the public sector and limit the hiring of nationals. This decision not only failed to address the issue at hand—the presence of highly paid bureaucracies—but also increased unemployment among young nationals wanting to access government jobs. Unemployed rates reached 27% among young Kuwaitis in 2017, for example, and 35% among young Saudis in 2019, as compared to a global average of 13% in 2018.

As a second step, Gulf states tried to compensate by introducing mandates and incentives for private sector firms to hire nationals. Mandates, in the form of nationalization policies (Emiratization, Saudization, etc.) added to the financial burdens of private firms, limiting their ability to grow, create jobs, and support long-term diversification objectives. For example, in Saudi Arabia, Saudization programs resulted in firms hiring ghost workers on the books to meet their quotas. More recently, financial incentives, such as wage subsidies and subsidized on-the-job training, have been tried in Bahrain and Saudi Arabia. These have added to the budget obligations of countries, without a clear indication that the jobs will persist after the subsidies end. 

As a third step, Gulf states tried to support private sector development. However, rather than limiting the scope and influence of public enterprises, they supported small and medium enterprises (SMEs) directly through financing, subsidies, and government contracts. While these policies may help, it is not clear that they will lead to the development and growth of competitive, sustainable businesses that can compete internationally on their own. The cost of subsidies (financial, energy, etc,) provided to these firms can outweigh the government fiscal revenues they generate. Gulf states have also made impressive progress in reducing unnecessary regulations, at least on paper. However, many regulations have persisted in an informal manner and large public enterprises often continue to regulate industries behind the scenes, creating delays and uncertainties for new businesses. 

Most recently, Gulf states have attempted to jumpstart economic diversification by creating free zones and special economic zones that aim to bypass burdensome local regulations and attract local and foreign investors. Examples include the Dubai International Financial Centre, Qatar Financial Center, and Bahrain International Investment Park, among others. While these zones have contributed to improved private sector economic activity, they have also led to the creation of segmented markets and delayed needed reforms in the primary economy. Still, the hope is that these efforts will provide a necessary space for local administrators to experiment and learn, thereby paving the way for countrywide expansion. 

Addressing mistakes of past reforms

While creating space for economic activity to take place in free zones and special economic zones is a promising first step toward real economic diversification, Gulf governments must ultimately address the problems created by past diversification efforts in order to forge a new path forward. 

First, governments need to limit the ability of their large public enterprises to regulate business activity and restrict competition in their sectors. Instead, one of the performance criteria for public enterprises should be the extent to which they provide an enabling environment for SME development, growth, and innovation in their respective industries. This is the opposite of what currently takes place. For this shift to happen, how public enterprises see themselves must change from national champions that dominate their space to national enablers that nurture and develop their space. Regulatory authority must also fully reside with relevant government agencies and a firewall should exist between public enterprises and the government authorities that regulate them. 

Second, Gulf governments need to apply the concept of free zones and special economic zones to mainstream economic activity. This can be done at a sectoral level by identifying growth sectors that are not dependent, either directly or indirectly, on government subsidies or revenues from oil and natural gas. Gulf states should then allow these sectors to drive non-hydrocarbon economic growth. To an extent, this is what Dubai has done. The state identified growth sectors that were not dependent on oil revenues and then created the necessary regulatory and physical infrastructure to support them. Dubai then encouraged private sector development and foreign direct investment in these sectors.

Third, Gulf states need to reduce the size and scope of their public sectors. Large government wage bills drain resources away from private sector investment, and large bureaucracies naturally interfere with business activity. The difficulty here is the wage differential between citizens working in the public and private sectors. As we discussed above, subsidies are costly, while quotas create market inefficiencies and sabotage efforts to create a globally competitive private sector. An alternative would be for states to introduce either a universal basic income (UBI) scheme for their citizens or a supplementary social wage that applies to both the public and private sectors. Either policy would allow states to align public and private sector wages without financially harming citizens. 

Finally, it is important to note that regardless of the policies that Gulf states eventually pursue, financial constraints from lower hydrocarbon revenues and lower disbursements from sovereign wealth funds will eventually be reflected in lower wealth disbursements to citizens. Gulf states need to have an honest conversation with their citizens about financial constraints and the need to move away from lifelong high-wage public sector employment. As we discussed above, this has already led to  high rates of unemployment among young nationals. It will also be reflected in lower public sector wages and benefits or, if enacted, lower transfers through the UBI or social wage. 

Decisive action is needed now

Gulf economies face the prospect of lower global demand for hydrocarbons within the coming two decades. While some policymakers dismiss the warnings of peak oil demand as something they have heard before, the trends are real and Gulf countries will have to scramble to deal with the financial fallout when a tipping point is eventually reached. Yet, despite all the warning signs that a financial pinch is coming, real economic reforms have so far only taken place when Gulf countries have had no other choice. 

The poster child for diversification in the region is the Emirate of Dubai, where oil production peaked in 1991. Dubai developed its infrastructure and institutions and was able to establish itself as one of the most diverse and dynamic economies of the region. It has become a global hub for logistics, travel, finance, and tourism. Today, oil production accounts for only around 1 percent of its gross domestic product (GDP). 

It’s neighbor Bahrain has also nearly exhausted its oil reserves. Out of necessity, it has also made substantial progress, reforming its labor laws and opening up to foreign investment. Bahrain now allows full foreign ownership of businesses in several sectors including real estate, communication, and administrative services—sectors that had previously been restricted to investment by nationals.  

However, both Dubai and Bahrain continue to benefit indirectly from oil and natural gas revenues. A large share of their income comes from providing services to their neighbours. Dubai serves as a regional hub for global corporations and provides them with logistics, transportation, tourism, and financial services; Bahrain also provides tourism and financial services. In addition, both have been financially bailed out by their wealthier neighbours, Dubai in 2009 by Abu Dhabi during the global financial crisis and Bahrain in 2018 by Kuwait, Saudi Arabia and the UAE when oil production fell. This suggests that Oman, Saudi Arabia, Kuwait and the UAE need to undertake real economic reforms now in order to manage their own transitions. Within a decade, there might be no excess wealth left in the region to support their transitions or bail them out. Saudi Arabia appears to be taking this threat seriously and moving ahead with reforms at a rapid pace.

In the end, Gulf states must galvanize economic growth that is not dependent on government subsidies or revenues from oil and natural gas. In the past, reform efforts have been watered down by legacy policies and the vested interests that have emerged to protect them. There is early evidence to suggest that the most recent reform efforts are different. But these efforts continue to avoid undertaking major structural changes to deal with the influence of large public enterprises, expensive government bureaucracies, and an addiction to mega construction projects. Time is now of the essence. To move ahead, Gulf states will need to have open and honest discussions with their political bases and citizens about the constraints that they face in order to forge a new path forward. 

Mired in turmoil from the Levant to the Persian Gulf, on the surface, the Middle East’s future has rarely looked this bleak. There is, however, an inherent value in hitting rock bottom, and that is the prospect of remaking it all from scratch. But to do so, there needs to be a unique constellation of actors, incentives, alliances, and opportunity. Today, that critical mix exists in the region; the only question is when and where it will give shape to the Mideast’s new direction.

While the war-torn and economically-crippled Levant draws all eyes, it is in the Persian Gulf where the seeds of a changed future will be planted. Simply put, the confrontations throughout the region since the start of the Arab uprisings have largely been driven by actors in the Persian Gulf, and hence that is where the settlements will be reached. 

The recent conflicts in Syria, Iraq, Yemen, and now Lebanon are all connected to the decades-long standoff between the United States and Islamic Republic of Iran, which has split the region into two poles. Some parties view this fight as a zero-sum game, while others believe a win-win solution still exists within the region. The latter is possible and there have been a number of initiatives—from Iran, Kuwait, and Oman in the main—that have thus far proven unsuccessful, largely because many parties, both inside and outside the region, are still attempting to gain leverage on the ground in various battlefields and confrontations.

Using the counter revolutions of the 2011 Arab uprisings, Iran’s Persian Gulf adversaries sought to buoy waning U.S. hegemony by weakening Iran’s allies in the Levant and elsewhere. These actions backfired by strengthening bonds between Iranian allies who began to work from joint command centers, sharpen their battle experience, and score unprecedented victories in every military theater.

Importantly, as a direct result of the instability caused by these conflicts, the Iranian pole began to garner the attention, support, and intervention of major powers Russia and China, who stepped forward to act as intermediaries: further supplanting the traditional U.S. role in the region. 

China, Russia, and their Growing Significance 

“Iran is the new great power of the Middle East, and the United States is the old,” Adel Jubeir—then the Saudi ambassador in Washington, later Saudi’s foreign minister—told his superiors in Riyadh. This was in 2013, in the aftermath of a chemical attack in Ghouta, when then-U.S. President Barack Obama famously backed down from his “red line” warning of a military strike against Syria. 

If history could point to a moment when the United States’ allies in the Persian Gulf ceased to bank on American might, this would be it. Over the following years, that trust would waver further. Gulf Cooperation Council (GCC) foes of Iran watched in mortified silence as the Iranians shot down a $200 million U.S. drone in their airspace and fired a dozen ballistic missiles into two U.S. military bases in Iraq in retaliation for the U.S. assassination of a top Iranian general. When Yemen’s Houthis targeted ARAMCO with precision weapons—and refineries, ports, ships, military sites, and infrastructure came under sophisticated fire in Abha, Jizan, Najran, Fujairah, Al-Shuqaiq, Damam, Abqaiq, Riyadh, Jeddah, and countless other sites in retaliation for the Saudi–UAE-led war against Yemen—the United States did nothing.

Despite intensifying U.S. threats against Iran and its allies during the Trump administration, the Pentagon was disinclined to follow through with actual military confrontation, further diminishing America’s credibility as a reliable ally. Persian Gulf states began to hedge their bets and seek other intermediaries and partners to shore their interests, primarily Russia and China.

Since 2013, when Chinese President Xi Jinping launched the biggest global investment project since the Marshall Plan, Beijing’s Belt and Road Initiative (BRI) has been cutting a swathe across Asia, with an active focus on the Persian Gulf, the vital energy hub fueling China’s growth engine.

China has now inked comprehensive strategic partnerships with Iran, Saudi Arabia, the UAE, and strategic partnerships with Qatar, Oman, Kuwait, and Iraq, which include investments in the range of hundreds of billions of dollars: resources that Washington could never hope to match. 

While China brings financial resources to the table, the Russians have marched onto the Middle East stage with unusually effective diplomatic finesse and military resolve, dazzling even the most pro-American Gulf monarchies.

Arab emirs have, one by one, made their way to Moscow for help and assurances on the most taxing regional issues of the day. Overnight, the Russians turned the tide in the Syrian war by introducing critical air support in 2015 to Syria and its allies fighting North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO) and GCC-backed militias on the ground. And, it did so while maintaining—and even consolidating—relations with those adversaries, from Turkey and Qatar to Saudi Arabia and the UAE.

For the Chinese and Russians, Syria became their entrée into a region that had not been a priority for either in decades. Syria became a red line and turning point for them for various reasons: it was where they intended to halt U.S. regime change interventions lest those end up in Moscow or Beijing; they would squash the U.S. program of using radicalized Islamic extremists to fight dirty wars across the globe; they would stabilize the near Mideast, which had become the premier global security emergency. 

For China’s BRI plans, energy needs, and fears of Uighur separatism, West Asia and the Persian Gulf had suddenly become foreign policy priorities. For Russians who missed the old proactive Soviet Union, it was time to play a global role again, securing their interests and protecting their borders.

These two major powers, in a sense, “discovered” Iran during the Syrian war. Here was a civilizational regional state that had realized its potential; maintained secure borders; supported the international principles of nonintervention, sovereignty, territorial integrity; fiercely combatted jihadi extremism; preferred soft power to hard power; prioritized domestic economic development; and shared their interest in thwarting U.S. military and economic aggression. 

These are important points to remember: despite deepening Chinese and Russian relationships with other major regional states, Iran is by far the most constitutionally similar to both in its global outlook and political values.

This March, China and Iran inked a sweeping twenty-five-year comprehensive strategic partnership that covered all domains: economic, military, agriculture, transportation, energy, innovation, technology, and culture, to say the least. The pact is short on specifics, giving rise to questions about its ultimate utility, but here’s the rub: China just put its back behind Iran, pulling it out of isolation induced by the U.S. “maximum pressure campaign” and providing the Islamic Republic with a new range of options and flexibility. 

The clout of this major power will also do one more thing for Iran: it will put on the map the long-term Iranian goal of advancing regional security arrangements in the Persian Gulf. Unsurprisingly, this is also a stated Chinese policy objective. That same month, Chinese Foreign Minister Wang Yi paid an official visit to Saudi Arabia where he highlighted, among other bilateral goals, regional peace and stability. 

In an Arab News editorial, China’s Ambassador to Riyadh Chen Weiqing writes that China and Saudi Arabia reached important consensus on several issues, among them “a five-point initiative to achieve peace and stability in the Middle East, calling on countries in the region to respect each other, uphold equity and justice, achieve nuclear non-proliferation, jointly foster collective security and accelerate development cooperation. China is willing to play its due role in promoting long-term peace and stability in the Middle East.” 

The Chinese visit followed a surprise four-day tour of Saudi Arabia, the UAE, and Qatar by Russian Foreign Minister Sergey Lavrov, where he plugged Moscow’s own security vision for the Persian Gulf.

Undoubtedly, the Russians are seeking to exploit the American vacuum felt by Saudi Arabia and the UAE since the changing of the guard at the White House this year. However, the Russian resolve to push for regional security should not be underestimated, given the material evidence we have seen from its Syria commitment.

The United States as a Barrier to Regional Dialogue

Both the Chinese and Russians will be well aware that it is Iran that has most heavily promoted regional Persian Gulf security, and that it is Iran that will most benefit from a halt to conflict.

Since Iranian President Hassan Rouhani’s 2013 election, Tehran has promoted regional dialogue at every opportunity, in every available forum. In 2019, at the United Nations, Rouhani proposed HOPE—the Hormuz Peace Endeavor—as a plan of action to convene all eight littoral states of the Persian Gulf (including Iraq) to address and resolve the vital issues of cooperation, security, and freedom of navigation, from which further mutual interests can be addressed.

Premised upon and heavily dependent on the concepts of goodwill and neighborliness, Rouhani warned about the plan’s biggest potential impediment: U.S. hegemonic ambition.

“The peace, security and independence of our neighbours are the peace, security and independence of us. America is not our neighbour. It is the Islamic Republic of Iran that neighbours you, and we have been long taught that the neighbour comes first, then the house. In the event of an incident, you and we shall remain alone. We are neighbours with each other, and not with the United States.”

HOPE clearly didn’t take off. The problem lay partly in the fact that several pro-U.S. Persian Gulf Arab states are still heavily oriented toward their U.S. ally, and partly because these states remain committed to building leverage and gaining the upper hand in the various confrontations still underway in the region. 

These are the “zero-sum” crowd: the hardline states that still believe they can defeat Iran and its allies despite all evidence pointing otherwise in Syria, Iraq, Yemen, and Lebanon, with no prospect of victory remotely in sight.

Iran, Oman, Kuwait, Iraq, and possibly Qatar, on the other hand, are more inclined to believe there is a “win-win” scenario that can be salvaged amidst the destruction: wherein confrontation can be halted, cooperation begun, and mutual security, development, and prosperity dotting the horizon.

But, before any of that can happen, the United States needs to be edged out of the equation.  

In an interview in March, Iranian Foreign Minister Javad Zarif sounded fed up. Arguing that Iran’s Persian Gulf neighbors have always sought to “buy security” from malign actors like the United States, and now Israel, Zarif expounded:  “We believe that tension in the region is caused by the presence of foreign forces and they are not the cure; they are the malady.” He expressed a willingness to work with Iran’s neighbors, optimistic that the United Nations can provide an “international umbrella” over the Persian Gulf: an international umbrella that does not include the United States. 

Since the assassination of Iran’s top general Qasem Soleimani in January 2020, Iran has vowed to eliminate all U.S. forces and military bases from the region. The Americans can not be a party to rapprochement; they are a direct adversary of a principal participant. The Chinese and Russians, however, have no such impediment. Furthermore, they enjoy good relations with all parties and have spent the past few years enhancing those bilateral relationships without prejudice or favoritism.

To be fair, the Americans fundamentally recognize that they bring nothing to the table. In a rare candid moment for a politician, Obama famously said that Saudi Arabia will just have to learn to share the region with Iran: “Our friends as well as…the Iranians…need to find an effective way to share the neighborhood.” 

The implication, of course, was that the United States wasn’t interested in enabling its allies’ confrontational posture any longer, calling them “freeloaders.” Notably, U.S. President Joe Biden, Obama’s former vice president, has jumpstarted his tenure by delisting the Houthis from the United States’ terrorist list, challenging arms sales to Riyadh, and releasing a damning Central Intelligence Agency report attributing blame for Saudi journalist Jamal Khashoggi’s brutal murder to the Kingdom’s crown prince.

In fact, Biden’s opening gambit on the Mideast—slamming his allies and trying hard to restart the nuclear deal with Iran—provides a unique opportunity for hardline Gulf states to shed their zero-sum outlook and hammer out a comprehensive peace and security agenda with their longtime foe, Iran

Why? Take a hard look at some uncomfortable realities: these hardline states are constitutionally unable to prevent Iran’s regional ascension and, if anything, have aggressively contributed to it. Iran is “efficient”—i.e. it has the means and focus to realize any policy objective it sets for itself—while its adversaries are inefficient. Iran has rock-solid alliances that seek common objectives based on shared values. Iran’s foes today are in opportunistic alliances that can diverge dramatically because their values are power, hegemony, and wealth accumulation. Iran has won the support and cooperation of the world’s two growing powers; its foes have been unable to secure reliable commitment from their one major ally, the United States, and are now seeking support from a much weaker, regionally reviled state, Israel. Iran’s economy remains relatively stable despite punishing sanctions; it hits development milestones lauded by the United Nation; and has made genuine strides in diversifying its economy. Its adversaries, meanwhile, have been bleeding wealth on multiple conflict zones, on unprecedented weapons purchases, and on ego investments that serve no national purpose.

The point here is not to denigrate Iran’s foes or to praise Iran, but to honestly assess the state of one versus the other in context of a rapidly changing world where the future is uncertain.

Iran’s elections are in two months, and the anticipation is that Iranians will elect themselves a less conciliatory president who is likely to take a tougher stand against Iran’s enemies, particularly the United States. 

Common Ground in the Persian Gulf

This is perhaps the time to remember the common histories, peoples, resources, and religion that bind the Persian Gulf region together. 

There are around five to six hundred thousand Iranians in the United Arab Emirates, fifty thousand in Kuwait, and thirty thousand in Qatar, with smaller amounts in Bahrain, Saudi Arabia, Lebanon, Iraq, and Oman. Included in this number are Iranian Arabs too. Anwar Gargash, who until two months ago was the UAE’s foreign minister, is a Huwala, or an Iranian Arab who originated from the Arabian Peninsula, like so many others. The vast majority of Kuwaiti Shia are of Iranian ancestry, though many Iranian-origin Kuwaitis are Sunni. According to the 1997 census, approximately 9 percent of Iran’s population of 82 million are Sunni Muslims; of those five million Sunnis, an estimated one million of them live in Tehran. There are 10,344 Sunni mosques in Iran. Over 1.6 million, or 2–3 percent of Iranian citizens, are Arabs. 

In short, Persian Gulf populations share so much recent and ancient history, and centuries of intermarriage have consolidated those ties. Today, with the exception of Saudi Arabia and Bahrain, Iran enjoys diplomatic relations with all other Persian Gulf littoral states, and in some cases, deep economic interests. Despite being on opposing sides of various regional conflicts, the UAE just became Iran’s second biggest trading partner in the world, with an annual value of $14.3 billion.

Establishing a regional security architecture won’t only benefit Iran and the GCC. Intra-GCC tensions and border conflicts have also plagued the organization since its inception. All eight littoral states have much to gain from embracing mechanisms that can guarantee freedom of navigation; deescalating conflict; bolstering oil prices; regulating the regional arms race; pooling resources to fight terrorism; and creating and training joint forces to patrol their waters.

These issues remain vital to the wellbeing of all parties. As military, economic, and pandemic-related fatigue kicks in and the United States’ role shrinks dramatically in the region, Iran and the GCC states have a choice to make: ignore changing realities, stay mired in conflict, and become failed states, or collectively become the joint energy hub of the world and the primary economic gateway connecting Asia, Europe, and even Africa. A shift toward the latter priorities even has the ability to resolve conflict and stabilize North Africa, which has also been torn apart by Arab rivalries in the Persian Gulf.

Iran can tough this out. But for hardliners in the Persian Gulf, only a dramatic pivot toward reconciliation can offer a face-saving exit from a decade of miscalculations.

The cultural scene in the United Arab Emirates (UAE) has witnessed a dramatic shift over the past few decades, marked by rapid development of art initiatives, institutions, auction houses, galleries, and creative hubs. The country’s annual art fair, biennale, and a number of large-scale international partnerships have also garnered it global recognition. However, amidst this very fast progress, an important question arises in regards to the art scene’s connection to local communities and audiences, and its critical acknowledgement and representation of earlier artistic histories within the Emirates and the region. Have some of these art initiatives developed in relative isolation from the public and bypassed their needs and realities, catering instead to a select smaller audience? It is also important to consider, in the context of these rapid and ongoing developments, the longer histories of artistic practices in the region and cultivate a study and recognition of possible continuities, rather than only focus on building anew. This presentation will question the trajectory of the UAE’s cultural development, and address possible tactics of making its art sector more accessible and inclusive.

The cultural landscape of  the Arab Gulf States has undertaken a seismic shift over the past two decades. Countries that were erroneously regarded as cultural backwaters are now not only prime destinations for art and culture, but are also shaping the cultural scene in the wider region through their funding and acquisition programs. While Qatar, Bahrain and Kuwait have had notable successes with their national museums and exhibitions—and Saudi Arabia’s vision 2030 promises to reengineer the cultural scene of the region—it is perhaps the art scene of the United Arab Emirates that has overall made the most strident leaps from local to regional to global scales within one generation. The UAE’s unique federal political system has benefited the cultural scene, as individual semi-autonomous cities vie for cultural leadership status, in parallel with efforts by the federal Ministry of Culture to position the UAE as a leading country in that field. 

The earliest iteration of a museum in what is present-day UAE, Al Ain Museum, was launched upon the initiative of the late Sheikh Zayed bin Sultan Al Nahyan (1919-2004) in 1969—predating the federal union by two years. The museum, established in the Abu Dhabi emirate, included notable gifts to the then ruler of Abu Dhabi as well as archeological finds in the emirate. It was, by any measure, a modest museum in size. Nevertheless, it constituted a considerable step forward, an indicator and a bellwether of bigger things to come. Almost 50 years later, the emirate—now capital of the UAE—inaugurated the Louvre Abu Dhabi. 

In 1971, the year of the UAE’s federation, another entity of a similar nature opened in the country. The Dubai Museum, located in an 18th century fort, became the first to  offer  a look into the traditional way of life in the UAE as a museum experience. By the 1980s, a number of other major steps were taken, including the founding of the UAE’s Fine Arts Society in Sharjah in 1980, the Sharjah Art Biennale in 1993 and the Sharjah Art Museum in 1995. The 2000s were an especially busy time in the UAE as a number of art galleries opened along with the advent of auction houses and art collecting initiatives. Today, the UAE is arguably one of the region’s preeminent destinations for art and culture. However, as successful as the country has been over the past two decades, it has and continues to meet a number of challenges.

Challenges

Many commercial galleries in the UAE continue to face financial challenges as rising costs eat into their already tight  profit margins. In fact, a number of art galleries had already shuttered, even before the global pandemic. The lack of rent control and varying government fees made financial planning a difficult task. For instance, Majlis Gallery, which opened its doors in 1989 and operated for over 30 years, had to close down in 2020. Salary costs, which are tied to the rising cost of living, and the dearth of corporate buyers also contribute to the difficulty of running gallery spaces in the country. Most UAE corporations, while benefiting from the country’s lack of tax burdens, are unwilling to invest in culture. The burden of responsibility has therefore largely fallen on state-related institutions and on a small number of private collectors. The stringent UAE import and export regulations also mean that loaning works to international institutions can become burdensome when exhibitions extend beyond the six-month window within which exported items can be shipped back into the country without incurring further import fees. Furthermore, tensions associated with the Arab Spring have reverberated across the region, and caused some countries to pause their investment in culture, while galleries, fairs and art exhibitions had to take down works that were now seen as excessively political. The same has occurred in the UAE over the past two decades with fairs taking down political works, although regulations are no longer as strict when it comes to the display of nudity. 

The collapse of Abraaj and loss of collections

The 2018 collapse of the financial monolith Abraaj Capital, left a void in the UAE’s cultural economy that has yet to be filled. Abraaj was an unusual financial entity in that it was also a major art collector that funded an annual $100,000 art prize for an entire decade between 2008 and 2018. Additionally, its art collection was also noteworthy in that it concentrated on collecting art from the region rather than from global art producers. Abraaj was keen on investing in culture from what it touted as the MENASA region that spans from North Africa to South Asia. In 2018, only three months after the institution’s collapse, a significant part of its collection sold for $6.5 million at auction. Although the collection was auctioned publicly and is now scattered all over the world, the 29 commissioned works that were granted the Abraaj Group Art Prize between 2008 and 2018 were all acquired by Saudi Arabia’s Art Jameel, thereby remaining in a regional collection (by comparison, Deutsche Bank holds around 55,000 artworks in its collection).

The sale of the UAE Abraaj collection—partly through a public auction, and partly in a private sale to a Saudi entity—demonstrates the oversight on the part of the UAE corporate institutions to step in and take advantage of this rare opportunity to safeguard an important collection of art, and retain it in the country. This was not the only such instance. A few years earlier, for example, a major collector of South Asian art shipped their entire collection of 1,000 artworks from the UAE to the UK and, in September 2020, offered 80 of these works for sale through an auction. Today, there are two other major collections whose founders are seeking to sell them in a bulk sale, and whose export would surely be a loss to the UAE art sector at large. By contrast, it is worth noting that in 2002 Qatar acquired the entire collection of 400 Islamic art objects from the renowned Kuwaiti scholar and collector Jassim Yousef Al Homaizi (1939-2004) for $140 million. Al Homaizi was considered an important pillar of culture in Kuwait, and Al Qabas newspaper called the sale بالفعل خسارة ثقافية لا تقدر بثمن للكويت or “an actual priceless cultural loss for Kuwait.” Another example was Sheikh Hassan Al Thani’s donation in 2004 of a sizable part of his collection of modern Arab art, which he began in 1984, to what would later become the Mathaf: Arab Museum of Modern Art. 

Geopolitics as a cultural barrier

As much as the UAE has benefited from its geographic location, both culturally and economically, recent geopolitical shifts have also palpably impacted the cultural scene, and not always in a positive way. For instance, as sanctions tightened on Iran over the past decade, less and less Iranians were able to travel to the UAE, and the shipment of art across the Gulf became both more challenging and expensive. The market of Iranian art, which included auctions such as Magic of Persia that were held periodically in Dubai, was negatively impacted as well. An example of the success of this market can be traced back to April 2008, when Iranian Parviz Tanavoli’s “The Wall (Oh Persepolis)” was auctioned in Dubai’s Emirates Towers with an estimate of  USD 400,000 – USD 600,000, but was actually sold for USD 2,841,000—over 4.5 times higher than its top estimate. Other geopolitical factors affecting the cultural scene include the ongoing Syrian Civil War, the 2017-2021 Gulf Crisis, the underlying political tensions with Turkey, and the 2020 collapse of the currency and economy in Lebanon, historically an important conduit for art production that is ultimately sold in the UAE.

Embrace of Western art

While the UAE is geographically and culturally firmly situated in South West Asia, at the intersection of Africa, the Indian Ocean and the East Mediteranean in what is known as the Arabian Peninsula, the collecting practices of some of its major institutions continue to reflect the mindset of a traditional Western institution. Although data on the collecting practices of many of the UAE’s institutions is not easily available, surmising from public announcements of acquisitions, much of what is collected fits within the category of Western art. In one instance back in 2016, for example, I was asked by staff working for a major collecting museum in the region, to speak with their senior leader and explain to them the merits of—I am quoting here—“turn around his formula of two thirds Western art, to one third Eastern.” Other large museums continue to invest staggering figures into the purchase of European art, when equivalent funds could be used to establish entire collections of regional art—as proved by the sum values of all Middle Eastern works auctioned by both Sotheby’s and Christie’s in 2020. On one hand, the display of influential Western art in Eastern museums offers a valuable opportunity to those who are unable to travel to experience this art. On the other hand, however, this investment also comes at an opportunity cost of developing a more regional focus and a regional art collection. 

Absent histories

Another opportunity often overlooked in the UAE art scene are exhibitions catering to the large South Asian community which constitutes around 60 percent of the country. Over the past two decades, the majority of the UAE’s exhibitions were geared towards either the Western or the Emirati community, oftentimes neglecting the country’s largest demographic. An notable exception to this oversight was Sharjah Art Museum’s exhibition Trajectories: 19th–21st Century Printmaking from India & Pakistan, held in September 2014, which was billed “first printmaking exhibition from the subcontinent to be held in the Middle East.” Curated by two South Asian scholars, Camilla H. Chaudhary and Dr Paula Sengupta, the exhibition presented a  selection of 157 rare prints from the subcontinent. Furthermore, the exhibition went beyond the aesthetic, examining the era of British colonialism in printmaking styles as well as the era of independence and post independence. The importance of this exhibition is emphasized  by the fact that curators were not able to meet in their respective countries due to visa restrictions resulting from tense political relations. Therefore, the UAE became a stage and platform for collaboration between these two strategically important regional countries. This mirrored a historic 1981 event, in which the UAE played host to a joint Indian-Pakistani cricket game that could not have been held in South Asia. Arguably, such exhibitions are more impactful and consequential than yet another display of Western art that can be seen elsewhere. 

Major successes

An important milestone for the UAE came in March 2012 when the retrospective Ibrahim El-Salahi: A Visionary Modernist opened at the Sharjah Art Museum to celebrate the career of the acclaimed Sudanese artist. A Visionary Modernist was later shown at London’s Tate Modern, becoming the first exhibition conceived in a modern Arab art institution to travel to a Westrn art museum. Such initiatives allow the UAE to position itself on par with top global institutions, while delivering enriching content about the region’s art histories. They also enable us to “expand our understanding of modernity itself” in the words of Iranian scholar Shiva Balaghi in his article Iranian Visual Arts in ‘The Century of Machinery, Speed, and the Atom’: Rethinking Modernity.  Another recent important development is the founding of the Arab Center for the Study of Art at NYU Abu Dhabi, which will finally offer an opportunity to study the regional art scene within a relevant context.

Culture as a Priority

In summary, the UAE art scene, although vibrant and pioneering in many of its initiatives, is in much need of reassessment in order to maintain its leading position in the region and beyond. Certain areas, such as legislation, audience awareness, and collecting strategies, would benefit from regular review and continuous adjustment, in order to meet with the ever-shifting regional and global circumstances. This must be spearheaded by both individuals, as well as organisations. The country’s Minister of Culture and Youth, for instance, has already started offering support to struggling galleries and artists, and launching initiatives to collect art. The UAE’s goals going forward should focus on encouraging corporate art collections, facilitating the remaining of important art collections, reducing fees and simplifying bureaucratic procedures. UAE cultural institutions should reconsider their exhibition programs, and make them relevant to a wider audience. Sustainability and longevity of a thriving cultural sector must be treated as a priority, which is why long-term planning is essential in order to ensure the ability of the art field to meet with both current and future challenges. With such adjustments, the UAE art scene can continue to be a leader not only in the region but also globally. Culture, after all, is the beacon of human intellectual achievement, and a means to better understand one another, and should therefore be prized at all levels.

At this time last year, I wrote that Libya may become an arena for regional  conflict if Turkey continued its military intervention there. But after Egyptian President Abdel Fattah al-Sisi drew a red line warning Turkey to back off, the potential for regional escalation declined and diplomatic and political efforts were quickly revived .Conflict exhausted domestic constituencies and others  weary of expanded regional conflicts accepted a United Nations roadmap focused on building effective institutions for a new Libyan state. These are a positive and welcome developments, even if it’s too early to rest assured and presume a desirable outcome to the Libyan crisis is easily within grasp. 

This year we find ourselves again looking at the summer season with concern and anxiety  given the escalating tensions in East Africa surrounding the Grand Ethiopian Renaissance Dam (GERD). The tone of political rhetoric between the Egyptian, Sudanese, and Ethiopian leaderships has become strenuous. With the imminent summer rains, Addis Ababa remains stubborn in its determination  to begin the second-stage filling of the dam reservoir without a binding legal agreement between the three riparian countries regarding matters of water administration and the reservoir filling schedule.

Egyptian President Sisi has repeatedly warned about the “careless misuse” of  river waters by some states and reiterated that Egypt’s water rights are inviolable and “cannot be touched”. He cautioned those who may doubt her resolve in defending its water rights are making an egregious mistake. Sudanese warnings adopt the same tone, promising that “all options” to protect Sudan’s security will be considered. This rhetoric follows Ethiopia’s recalcitrant position in talks about the mega-dam and its   determination  to commence the second-stage, much-larger filling of dam reservoir this summer without regard to the extent of progress in negotiations. Addis Abba has also emphasized Ethiopia’s capacity to protect itself from any danger or threat. 

All signs indicate that Ethiopia’s stalling and intransigence has been a long-standing rule. It had declined to cooperate with the International Panel of Experts, whose 2013 report documented numerous concerns about the dam’s transboundary impact. In 2015—even after the three Nile Basin states signed the “Declaration of Principles” in Sudan—Ethiopia continued to stall and delay attempts to reach a binding agreement. It has persisted in saying that any agreement would be a guidance document that reserves Ethiopia’s discretion to make independent and unilateral decisions about the dam, its operation, and the flow rate under a variety of climatological conditions, whether rains, floods, or multi-year drought. It has continued to drag its feet at the latest meetings in Congo, offering only perfunctory schemes to notify downstream parties of the measures it has unilaterally adopted.

A Crossroads 

We now shortly arrive at a highly sensitive juncture where existing alternatives and options do not inspire confidence. It is clear that the current tripartite talks under the auspices of the African Union will not lead to a desired outcome. Space for negotiations and time for political maneuvers no longer exist, as the scheduled filling of the reservoir rapidly approaches. Even were abundant rains to marginally reduce the damage inflicted on Egypt and Sudan, the danger of this next stage is that it prolongs the status quo and implicitly sets a precedent that sensitive decisions about the dam are for  Ethiopia unilaterally without consulting the other two parties.

Dialogue is always a more preferable route to resolving conflict provided political will exists. Even if negotiations stall and the situation deteriorates, it is always better to work within the framework of the practical negotiating process. However, the gravity of the current situation reflects Ethiopia’s attempts to impose a principle of unilateral decision-making that flouts any meaningful, potential accord. Despite Emirati endeavors to mediate the dispute and Saudi Arabia’s stated intention to host a summit for the three parties, I do not believe there’s a clear path forward while Ethiopia continues to act as a unilateral decision-maker. Rather, moving negotiations from the auspices of the African Union to that of the Saudi kingdom or in other forums may open the door for more posturing and stall tactics from Addis Abba.

Egypt and Sudan have the right to resort to a variety of international institutions such as the UN and African Union to gather broad-based support for their position. This is a right and obligation for the two states. However, I do not believe that Ethiopia will respond to calls and resolutions of an international nature particularly that the prevailing discord in the international community does not augur well for reliable enforced compliance. 

Would Russian or American mediation be useful?

One wonders if Russian and/or American intervention presents an exit from the dilemma, in light of Russian Foreign Minister Sergei Lavrov’s visit to Egypt this past April and the new American administration sending Senator Chris Coons, a visiting delegate in Sudan, to Egypt  a few weeks ago followed this week by Jeffrey Feltman the special envoy to the Horn of Africa , I certainly hope these developments inject new political will into resolving the issue. But I am not optimistic. For one, Russia’s cards to pressure Ethiopia are few, and the statements from the U.S. Department of State appear to lean toward Ethiopia in their support for a proposed, voluntary exchange of information about the dam reservoir. Such proposals enshrine a principle of unilateral decision-making.

For all these reasons, I fear that we have arrived at a perilous juncture, where all options are difficult, and delays on the diplomatic front leave us with an untenable status quo. The potential for collision carries with it great regional and international repercussions. In a tough situation, tough decisions are made. A strong state is one that has the wisdom to resolve conflict through peaceful means and dialogue, considering all potentialities and implications. Strong states are also however those which make decisive, timely decisions when necessary and those which are able to translate the forceful decisions made under difficult circumstances into concrete results.

So, will this summer witness a destabilizing escalation for which all will pay a high price? Or will a miraculous breakthrough save us from needless risks—surprising us with a burst of political will at the last moment? Suffice to say, summer 2021 will leave an indelible mark on the interests of the three Nile Basin states and on the future of East Africa. 

Joe Biden began his presidency on the steps of a heavily guarded Capitol, encircled by miles of austere barbed wire. There, he delivered an appeal to end America’s “uncivil war” to a public still reeling from the events of January 6, when a violent mob inspired by outgoing President Donald Trump descended on the U.S. Capitol, leading to five deaths.

In the wake of the attack, observers took to debating the appropriate language to describe the political significance of what happened. Was it a coup attempt, or wasn’t it? A putsch? An uprising?

Much of this early debate centered on what makes a coup a coup, and distinct from, say, a violent riot. Coups d’état – the term conjures the image of a military leading the violent overthrow of government. We picture, perhaps, the Chilean coup of September 1973, when military forces under General Augusto Pinochet ousted the elected President Salvador Allende. Or, perhaps, we picture the power grab in Myanmar, in February of this year, that led to sweeping detentions of top civilian leaders. Surely, we ask, the United States was nowhere close to this fate?

To some, this may seem like an obscure intellectual exercise. But it raises a broader issue: there are high normative and political stakes to how we portray, and talk about, political violence.

More than a quarter of post-World War II breakdowns of democracy around the world have been through “self-coups” that do not involve an armed rebellion, where a democratically elected government itself initiates a return to authoritarian practices. Importantly, the first warning signs of a self-defeating democracy are often the use of political rhetoric that fans the flames of extremism. From this viewpoint, although the Capitol attack was only loosely organized and the worst outcomes for democracy unrealized, its broader context should be a rude awakening for the United States that the probability of a self-coup is never zero. 

The Larger Pattern around Political Violence

Indeed, January 6 is in many ways the consummation of an American, home-grown problem. The link between extremist antidemocratic views and violence is itself not new: such views animated Timothy McVeigh, whose 1995 bombing of a federal building in Oklahoma City killed 168; or the Unabomber Ted Kaczynski, whose mail-bomb attacks killed three and injured two dozen others. 

What is significant about more recent acts of political violence is that high-ranking political leaders—notably the former President—are increasingly the sources of legitimating narratives around this violence.

After the 2017 white supremacist rally in Charlottesville, Virginia, descended into chaos, President Trump asserted that there were “very fine people on both sides,” seemingly legitimizing racists. 

On these Charlottesville demonstrators, some of whom were chanting racist and anti-Semitic slogans, Trump noted, “You had a lot of people in that group that were there to innocently protest” and expressed sympathy for their actions in defending their “heritage.”

On Kyle H. Rittenhouse, who attended a Trump rally, showed up at a demonstration in Kenosha wielding a military-style rifle, and was later charged with homicide after two protestors were fatally shot, Trump cast the 17-year-old’s actions as self-defense: “I guess he was in very big trouble. He probably would have been killed.” 

And when Trump was pressed to condemn white supremacy at a debate last year, he instead instructed the Proud Boys, a group with a history of violence, to “stand back and stand by.” These words thrilled extremists online who viewed them as vindication.

This handful of examples illustrates a larger pattern in the United States of how political narratives have been used to portray, and even legitimate, acts of violence, beyond the immediate lead-up to January 6. 

Political rhetoric around violence can be direct—a politician using explicit racial slurs or calling for particular groups or individuals to be locked up or shot. However, more often than not, the discourse around political violence is implicit. It draws on a moral vocabulary, rich in metaphor, that paints targeted groups as a disease threatening a healthy body politic, as animals, as enemies that threaten the “nation-ness” of a state. 

Consider the poem, “The Snake,” that Trump appropriated and repeatedly used in his 2016 and 2020 campaigns as an allegory of the threats posed by immigrants and refugees. The poem describes the story of a snake who convinces a woman to take him into her house for shelter from the cold. 

After the woman (the naïve character symbolizing the United States, in Trump’s interpretation) nurses the snake (the stand-in for immigrants and refugees) back to health on “honey and some milk,” the snake delivers a fatal bite. Trump’s recitation of the final lines—“‘Oh, shut up, silly woman!’ said the reptile with a grin. ‘You knew damn well I was a snake before you took me in’”—typically invites a raucous cheer from the crowd. 

Violence-Legitimating Rhetoric

Moral and normative language is similarly deployed to elevate the behavior of those on the violent extreme-right as rightful protectors and gatekeepers of the nation. Throughout the day on January 6, Trump continued to falsely claim that the election was stolen, firing up some supporters to “take the country back.” Trump’s “law and order” pitch, too, is well-known. 

This pattern goes back further. In August 2015, two Boston brothers assaulted a Mexican American homeless man and told police they were inspired by Trump to do something about how, “All of these illegals need to be deported.” 

Trump responded to this 2015 assault by casting the brothers’ behavior as symptoms of brimming patriotism. “The people that are following me are very passionate. They love this country. They want this country to be great again,” he told reporters. 

By April 30, 2020, when protesters stormed the state Capitol in Michigan to protest measures aimed at limiting the spread of the coronavirus, such moralizing language had become commonplace in political communication, even banal. In the leadup, Trump had used social media to call on people to “LIBERATE MICHIGAN” and other states, invoking the language of a righteous revolution. 

To be sure, this is not simply about Trump the individual. Often, what is not said by a broader group of political elites is as consequential as what is. In the wake of the Capitol attack, several politicians from both sides of the aisle expressed shock at the apparent “latinamericanization” of the United States into a “banana republic”. 

Beyond being a shallow and misguided comparison, such characterizations betrayed a deep-seated belief in American exceptionalism. The moral language of “this is not who we are” was shared by a cross-cutting group in the United States, from hardcore liberals to centrist legislators, to veterans who attended the rally on January 6 but did not participate in the mob. 

Yet, this is beside the point. Superficial gestures to an exotic “banana republic” or “Beer Hall Putsch” take the attention of an already news-weary public away from domestic warning signs and risk culturally priming political actors to view events like those of January 6 as an anomaly, a one-off random error.

The failure to talk about, and critically analyze, political violence for what it is sends a signal to the public that such acts are either idiosyncrasies – “this is not who we are” – and therefore do not require rigorous problem-solving, or, worse, that such acts are socially tolerated. 

The fact that extremists often parrot elites’ language of morality politics speaks to this point. According to a 2019 report, counties that hosted a 2016 rally with Trump headlining experienced a 226 percent increase in hate crimes. This suggests  that the use of violence-legitimating rhetoric is simultaneously an indicator and purveyor of the state of polarization and political violence in the United States.

Pushing back against the Language of Violence

Then, what can be done? 

Here is what we know: individuals’ beliefs—in particular, intergroup or political prejudices—are tough to change, even as people take cues from political elites quite readily. That is, violent political narratives do not necessarily persuade otherwise peaceful people to adopt violent views. But these narratives may well embolden a small subset of the population to feel that their private extremist, racist, or antidemocratic beliefs are more socially acceptable to express publicly—and, furthermore, that it is not only acceptable to act on them, but a duty to do so.

Combating misinformation in portrayals of political violence is a crucial step, but not a cure-all. It remains important to explicitly call out political messaging that seems to romanticize and legitimate violent behavior. This is the kind of behavior which equates violent claims to morally justifiable ones, or else brushes them away as problems imported from proverbial “banana republics.” 

Similarly, when politicians and pundits marshal language with rhetorical flair like “civil war” or the United States’ “next insurgency” to describe the country’s current situation, it threatens to play into or even vindicate fringe extremist narratives about “the deep state,” instead of dismantling them.

Countering antidemocratic extremism in a meaningful way will therefore require recognizing and calling out violence-legitimating rhetoric, but also avoiding this kind of casual rhetoric in the first place.

This will require equipping people with the ability to themselves recognize problematic narratives in political and public discourse. Online sources are a key conduit through which ordinary citizens encounter narratives, violent or otherwise. Thus, investments in programs that improve digital literacy with a focus on clear-eyed, critical consumption of information are crucial. But this activity needs to happen online and off. The government could support such programs through schools as well as credible civil society organizations in local communities. Ideally, such programs would build on existing federal or local initiatives on digital literacy.

This kind of educational approach would be resource-intensive and its payoffs may not be immediate. But it would fill a critical gap. Many governments, including that of the United States, often take a reactive approach by pressuring private firms, especially social media companies, to flag or remove user-generated content that could incite violent behavior. Yet, narratives live everywhere—not only on social media but also in blogs and internet forums. The sheer volume of content online suggests that the reactive approach is limited in its efficacy. The educational approach would build on where the reactive approach falls short. It is, in essence, a “teach a man to fish” method.

In the short- and medium-term, the framing of the January 6 attack will determine how accountability is to be achieved. But the way the violence on January 6 is remembered, recorded, and reflected in public discourse will likely have deep consequences for generating—or mitigating—political violence in the long-term as well.  

Words matter. This is arguably one of the most important and enduring lessons from the Trump administration’s four years. Words incite and mobilize, enrage, and inspire. The language we use to name and talk about the violence on January 6 will shape this trajectory of the United States for years to come.

Since the onset of the COVID-19 pandemic, some African countries have recorded relatively low rates of infections and related deaths. With a population of over one billion, the continent has registered 4.5 million cases of the virus, amounting to 3.08 percent of global infections. The number of recorded deaths stands at roughly 120,000; compared with 1 million in Europe; 506,000 in Asia; and 1.6 million in the Americas, making the African case-fatality ratio (CFR) significantly lower than the global CFR. 

This contrast can be attributed both to the international community’s lack of cooperation in the face of the global health crisis, and to the African Union’s prompt show of initiative and multilateral response. 

Challenges to multilateral cooperation

For years now, a number of ongoing challenges have hindered multilateral cooperation in the international sphere. Chief among these apocalyptic threats to the international community, as outlined by UN Secretary-General Antonio Guterres, are growing geopolitical tensions among global powers, climate change, growing inequality within and among states; and the downsides of technological innovation, epitomized in automated weapons and warfare. The reverberations of these challenges were strongly felt in the wake of the COVID-19 crisis, when the lack of cohesion between different bodies of international governance led to a belated and arguably insufficient response. 

Speaking at the 2021 Aswan Forum Strategic Dialogue, Former Egyptian Minister of Foreign Affairs and member of the African Union Panel of the Wise Amre Moussa denounced the United Nations’ inaction in the early stages of the pandemic, saying, “In the initial months, the United Nations seemed to be unable to act or to react”. 

Indeed, while the World Health Organization (WHO) declared the COVID-19 outbreak a pandemic on March 11, 2020; it was not until July 1 that the UN Security Council took action in the form  of UNSC resolution 2532, calling for a global ceasefire to direct attention to combatting the deadly virus. By then, the global number of confirmed cases had reached 10.3 million, and projections for global economic growth had fallen 6.5 percentage points below the pre-covid projections of January 2020. 

Brazilian ambassador to Egypt Antonio Patriota also touched upon these issues at the Strategic Dialogue. Echoing Moussa’s remarks, he denounced the global trend towards isolationism and called for a stronger and more inclusive multilateralism, saying “I believe that no country, no region, can single-handedly deal with the dimension of the public health and economic crisis we are facing; that in itself is an incentive for a renewed, reinvigorated multilateralism, or networked multilateralism”.

Yet, as he soundly noted, the UN Security Council may not be the institution best equipped to deal with the present crisis. The UNSC is charged with authorizing peacekeeping operations; but more prominently serves as the primary body for authorizing coercive action in the form of sanctions or military intervention -neither of which are of use in the face of a global pandemic. As such, the international community may look to other bodies of governance to take the lead in shaping the path towards recovery. 

African leadership

While international mechanisms may have fallen short of expectations, since the onset of the pandemic, African states at large have demonstrated exceptional crisis-management ability and regional cooperation. The African Union was among the first regional organizations to take action in the advent of the novel coronavirus. As early as February 24, 2020, representatives of member states met in Addis Ababa to devise a continent-wide strategy to curb the spread of infections and recover African economies from the virus’ ramifications. 

This exceptional show of initiative and leadership reflects Africa’s growing role on the global stage. Since the United Nations’ inception, African states have largely been relegated to the margins of the international system: there are no permanent African members in the UNSC composition, and the continent has historically stood on the fringes of global financial institutions. That said, the tide has slowly begun to shift in Africa’s favor, with African citizens increasingly taking on leadership positions within these institutions; these include but are not limited to the World Trade Organization, the International Finance Corporation, and the UN Office on Drugs and Crime. 

Most recently, under the leadership of the Ethiopian Dr. Tedros Adhanom, the World Health Organization has worked to provide more equitable vaccine distribution to the world’s less affluent regions through the COVID-19 Vaccines Global Access Facility (COVAX). In Moussa’s view, these efforts could be further strengthened by the establishment of an African Health Organization, “not as a challenge to, or separate from the World Health Organization, but in cooperation with that organization and with other bodies of the African Union.” 

What these various successes have shown is that, in Patriota’s words, there can be a future “where Africa will not be resigned to a diminished role in shaping a reinvigorated, more networked and hopefully more efficient multilateralism.”

Paving the way forward

Strong initiatives and multilateral cooperation have served to spare African nations from the staggering rates of COVID-19 infections and related deaths witnessed in other parts of the world. Nonetheless, the virus has deeply exacerbated pre-existing socio economic challenges and hindered ongoing peacekeeping and development efforts across the continent. Travel restrictions have placed significant strain on global supply chains and the tourism sector, launching the Sub-Saharan region into its first recession in over twenty-five years. Meanwhile, North African countries have been especially hard-hit by fluctuations in oil prices, according to the Cairo International Center for Conflict Resolution, Peacekeeping and Peacebuilding (CCCPA). 

Rebuilding African economies and setting the continent back on its developmental track, in line with the African Union’s Agenda 2063, will be no easy feat. But as the various panels of the Aswan Forum for Sustainable Peace and Development have demonstrated, there are concrete steps to be taken towards a more united and equitable African future. 

First among these steps is granting African bodies of governance greater emphasis in international decision-making processes. Over the past decade, the AU Peace and Security Council and its sub-regional organizations have made important strides in conflict prevention, management, resolution and post-conflict reconstruction across the continent. 

Building on these achievements, Moussa suggested greater and more even-handed cooperation between the UN Security council and its African counterpart, saying, “we need to elevate the AU Peace and Security Council into a truly relevant council; one not only focused on African affairs but on international affairs.” 

A second issue of pivotal importance in the African and international spheres is climate change, which has only recently come to be recognized as a leading environmental and humanitarian issue. Across the African continent, global warming has been among the lead causes of water scarcity, food insecurity, and lack of access to sanitation; and has had devastating socio-economic and health impacts on marginalized communities. In light of these growing challenges, the Aswan Forum dedicated a panel to the subject of Climate, Security, and Development; with a focus on how policymakers can more effectively assess and respond to climate-security risks. 

A key step forward, noted Moussa, is devising a continent-wide response to the challenges wrought by global warming. “As I suggested an African Health Organization, I do suggest that we have to meet in a Pan-African conference on the issue of climate change,” he proposed. 

A third developmental objective which figures at the forefront of the Agenda 2063 is the empowerment of women. Across the African continent, a number of national and international mechanisms have been established in recent years to promote gender-inclusive policy. A notable example would be the Network of African Women in Conflict Prevention and Mediation, or FemWise-Africa, which is a subsidiary of the AU Panel of the Wise, established in 2017 to strengthen the role of women in conflict prevention and resolution. 

This year’s edition of the Aswan Forum brought light to the disproportionate impact of the pandemic on African women living in conflict zones. In light of the twentieth anniversary of UNSC Resolution 1325 on Women, Peace and Security, one panel invited policy makers and civil society representatives to reflect on persisting challenges to the resolution’s implementation, and what national leaders can do to devise gender-inclusive policy in both conflict and post-conflict settings. 

A fourth pillar of the Agenda 2063 is strengthening Africa’s engagement with the rest of the world and positioning the continent as a dominant player in the global arena. This objective figures at the forefront of the Aswan Forum Strategic Dialogue, during which Patriota applauded Egypt’s Chairmanship of the UN Peacebuilding Commission, noting that “[the commission] already tries to implement something that the Aswan Forum has been highlighting: the continuum between peace and development and the emphasis on prevention.”

Patriota further spoke of the historical and ever-growing ties between Brazil and the African continent as a notable example of Africa’s engagement in the multilateral system. “Brazil feels very close to Africa for historic reasons. It is the country with the largest diaspora of Africans in the world and the Latin American country with the largest number of embassies in Africa,” he said, adding that “there is a scope for Brazil to engage more actively, bilaterally, with the African Union and through African institutions.”

The Mercosur Free Trade Area’s free trade agreement with Egypt, he noted, is a testament to the strength of diplomatic relations between the two regions, and could serve as a blueprint for closer ties between Latin America and the newly enforced Continental Free Trade Area in Africa (CFTA). 

In Moussa’s view, one way to enhance Africa’s vocal participation in the multilateral system is to hold more intranational dialogues like those allowed by the Aswan Forum. “I hope that we should not have to wait for the same month next year to see the activities of the Aswan Forum,” he said. To this end, he suggested a monthly meeting of experts and diplomats to discuss policy solutions and strategies to deal with the ever-changing dynamics of African and global geopolitics. 

Patriota reinforced this point, before restating the importance of multilateral cooperation in an increasingly complex international system. 

“One vision for the future that we could have is a multiple world that is post-hegemonic, where we cooperate internationally, across regions to enhance the frameworks that we have for improving the lives of our societies; without falling into big power tensions or rivalries for hegemonic control of resources, nations, or the future of different parts of the world. This is my final thought: a post-hegemonic, multipolar world of enhanced cooperation,” he concluded.