A decade later, governments in the Middle East and North Africa still fall short of the people’s revolutionary expectations.

This piece was originally published on the USIP website https://www.usip.org/

Ten years ago, a wave of unprecedented unrest ignited the Middle East and North Africa (MENA) region as citizens took a stand against regimes with a long history of authoritarianism and fraying socioeconomic stability. Ever since, there has been an abundance of analysis surrounding the impact of the Arab uprisings on MENA countries. But one critical element of a thorough reflection is missing: Why have the post-2011 governments—transitional and elected—been unsuccessful in fulfilling the expectations of their people? 

Surely, there is plenty of evidence to assert that the answers to the abovementioned question would vary, often radically, from country to country, and thus “one-size-fits-all” answers are not helpful. However, the 10th anniversary offers an opportunity to reflect on three main, cross-cutting factors that influenced the outcomes of the 2011 uprisings.

Caught Up on Technicalities

The international community and many local politicians, civil society leaders, and others overemphasized the importance of technicalities in a political transition. The focus remained largely on aspects like elections, capacity-building of legislative bodies, a strengthened civil society, or security sector reform, among other things. In post-Qaddafi Libya, for example, the international community was eager to execute elections, but the social fabric of the country was so weak that such a push actually led to a total division between the east and the west regions of the country in 2014. 

Elections and other technicalities are undoubtedly necessary elements of a successful political transition. But in the absence of a new and enshrined social contract between the state and the people, one that confers enough legitimacy to emerging governance structures, these technical measures are laid upon a shaky foundation. While these structures are necessary, a lack of faith renders them virtually useless.

A new social contract would guide the exchanges between, and expectations of, the individual and the state. The individual transfers his or her authority to a representative in exchange for a guarantee that their rights will be protected. Such a relationship requires trust and legitimacy. States in the region are experiencing humiliating deficits in both.

It is not surprising, then, that most of the countries that witnessed the uprisings of 2011 have been devastated by protracted violent conflicts. The rest are undergoing a different type of existential crisis—either political, economic, or social in nature.

Root Causes Still Fueling Grievances

The 2011 uprisings were, ultimately, largely anti-climactic because the root causes of most grievances fueling the unrest went unaddressed. Unfortunately, the endemic issues that plague the region, such as corruption, inequality, human rights violations, and the inability to properly manage and accommodate diverse populations, were left untouched by regime change alone.

So, despite political transitions, these underlying factors created a wide and disappointing gap between people’s expectations for prosperity and its actual attainability. In hindsight, the link between democracy and prosperity was misperceived or overstated. Ten years ago, most of the driving forces behind the uprisings were socio-economic in nature—more so than cries for freedom and political rights—making the post-2011 deterioration of public service provision and economic hardship even more demoralizing.

Hurting their own cases, those in elected or transitional positions today are unable to answer pressing questions about unfulfilled promises. Instead, most resort to empty political rhetoric and cosmetic mitigation measures to buy time.

For example, in Tunisia—which is often deemed as the single, shining star of the 2011 uprisings—unrest often flares in the resource-rich area of Kamour. Residents rightfully demand that the revenue of the resources extracted from the area be reinvested in development projects for the marginalized southern city and protests often become extremely tense and violent. Instead of offering a realistic development plan that considers both the demands of residents and the financial constraints of the country, successive ministers have visited the area delivering lofty, over-promising speeches to appease the population.

In other cases, when confronted with generalized popular dismay, emerging rulers and their international backers have pushed blame onto others. Secularists have accused Islamists and vice versa—and both continue to assign blame to previous regimes or regional and international powers. Year after year in Syria, Bashar al-Assad has recited the same lines blaming the United States and its allies for the length and brutality of the war.

This frustration has slowly given way to mounting nostalgia for the pre-2011 era, and political figures closely associated with the ousted regimes are now suddenly deemed worthy of power. In many cases, some people have gone as far as overtly calling for the previously toppled regime to rise from the ashes. In Libya, there is growing political popularity for Saif al-Islam Qaddafi, son of the deposed Libyan dictator. And to some in Syria, the reality of an Assad regime doesn’t seem as bleak as a never-ending bloody conflict. In Tunisia, political figures like Abir Moussi—the head of the Free Destourian Party who is often accused of trying to resuscitate the pre-2011 political order—are appealing to a surprisingly wide swath of the population.

Underestimating the Hard Work of Democracy

In the wake of the uprisings, many citizens underestimated the personal responsibility and sacrifice required for successful political, social, and economic transformation. The majority of people in the region failed to understand that a better future is not only about toppling a villain or attracting international support—a better future must be pulled out from within as well. In a political transformation, especially one that was hard-fought and bloody, much of the global focus tends to be on political and economic reforms. However, in parallel, there is work to be done on the deeper level of social values to heal toxic pathologies of exclusionary political tactics that lead to cyclical violence.

In Iraq, Syria, Libya, Yemen, Lebanon, and other countries in the region, victims of oppressive regimes—including emerging protest movements or minority groups—have embraced the exact same political and social practices that they complained about, including political violence in some cases. The same citizen who complains of corrupt practices in one place would accept being offered privileges—in kind or in cash—in his or her private practice or, in the case of civil servants, when carrying out their own work. So, the paradigms of inclusion, transparency, compliance, and effective performance works only in one way for a majority of people in the region.

A more peaceful future requires that, on an individual level, citizens commit to the same principles and practices they are preaching and reject the widespread but shortsighted belief in the region that it is acceptable to pursue political, economic, social, and security interests through unorthodox means—including exclusionary and sometimes violent agendas.

Where to Go from Here

The gist of the 2011 uprisings’ essential failure is that although there were some technical political transitions, none were accompanied by reimagined social contracts between states and citizenries, thus leading to a crisis of legitimacy for the emerging governments. This has left the region today experiencing weaker social cohesion, deteriorating living conditions, worsened political instability, and more overall mayhem than before 2011.

And there’s a high risk that these issues could be exacerbated in the near future. A recent Oxfam report states that 45 million more people in the region could be pushed to poverty as a result of the pandemic, and around 1.7 million will lose their job in the next couple of years. As millions will have less access to resources, there is an increased risk of social unrest and significant obstacles to conducting much-needed economic reforms. The prosperity that many in the region continue to seek seems to be getting pushed further out of reach.

In this context of extreme fragility, a response ought to go beyond the traditional financial or technical assistance. For a social contract to confer legitimacy to state authority, it should reflect the general will of a people, serve their collective interests, and ensure their general welfare.

Even though the last decade was disenchanting, the existing chaos does not need to be the region’s destiny. In fact, the second wave of uprisings that swept across the region last year, from Beirut to Baghdad to Algiers, indicates that there is still some level of buy-in to the power of mass mobilization. Prior to December 2010, even the thought of challenging those in power was simply not seen as an option that could generate any positive outcome. The Arab uprisings proved that not to be true. Now, the region faces another herculean, yet possible, challenge: building the foundations for legitimate governance.

If the current paradigm does not evolve, the region will continue to witness destruction, violence, and despair.

This piece was originally published on the thearabweekly website https://thearabweekly.com/

Ill-defined “sectarianism” is often mentioned in the Middle East and North Africa (MENA) region as the reason for its population’s misfortunes. For decades, the international community and most of the region’s elite have tried vainly to impose Western-style secular nation-state models. The outcome has been either civil wars, failing states or dictatorships. Looking ahead, it is necessary to first acknowledge the reality of identity-based politics in this part of the world and second to generate a new governance encompassing an overlap between national identity and the multiple subnational ones.

“Sectarianism” (or “confessionalism”) in countries like Iraq, Syria, Lebanon and Yemen, is often blamed for being the main driver of violence. In other places such as Libya, “regionalism” and “tribalism” get a similar bad rap. In the broader MENA region, power sharing (aka “al-mouhassassa”) is usually incriminated as the root of all evil. The concepts of “civil state “and “secularism” are also used interchangeably in political discussions and analysis. More recently, terminology like “subsidiary identities” (in reference to sub-national identities), as opposed to “national identity,” have emerged in the same discussions. What is the region’s predicament exactly?

The first aspect of the problem is that a combination of political illiteracy and the manipulation of the political discourse by the elite has created misleading narratives using ill-defined terms such as “sectarianism,” “secularism,” “civil state,” “quota system” and others.

For the last few centuries, political constituencies in the region have formed primarily around religious, ethnic, tribal, regional or other subnational identities rather than around political ideologies or projects. There is a host of reasons leading to this situation; reasons that are misunderstood – or worse, ignored — by local, national and international decision makers.

— Deeply rooted realities —

While not exclusive to the MENA region, this reality is deeply rooted in a long social and political history dating back to the occupation of the region by the Ottomans. For more than five centuries — until the end of the first world war — the region was ruled by the “Sultan” who happened to be at the same time the “Caliph.” Beyond this amalgamation at the top of the hierarchy between state and religious affairs, the Ottomans found fertile territory to exercise the infamous “divide et impera” in the region’s diverse religious, ethnic and tribal populations like any other occupier would have undoubtedly done.

As the Ottoman Empire was dismantled, the region found itself under the control of two colonial powers – Britain and France- who had to delineate their respective zones of influence in territories populated by communities with little or no national identity. In some cases, like that of the Maronites and Druze in Mount Lebanon, communities organised themselves around their shared identities to attain a degree of autonomy from the empire. This granted them a special status which is still seen as a win in these communities. In their case, the sub-national identity was the why and wherefore of walking off with an autonomy of sorts from the Sublime Ottoman State.

Moreover, France and Britain attempted the impossible mission of setting up governance models where the requirements of a Western style “nation state” would be in harmony with the reality of an all-time low national identity. The region ended up with a short period of relative but artificial stability (mostly the 1930s and 1940s) under the colonial powers leading to a troubled post-independence era (late 1950s onwards) characterised by successive coups d’état, authoritarian and corrupt monarchies, dictatorships and police states or chaos in the form of civil wars. During this same period, two main ideologies emerged in the region to fill the legacy vacuum of the Ottomans: Pan-Arab nationalism and the political Islam project owned by the Muslim Brotherhood.

Although some political groups mimicked other ideologies (communism, liberalism, socialism…), the political space remained dominated by the clash between a romantic, staunchly secular but authoritarian pan-Arabism and a faith-based, often violent project of political Islam. The proponents of both models embraced exclusionary approaches in the sense that the first camp attempted to annihilate any reference to religion (often even in the private personal space) while the second esteemed the religious identity as the end-all be-all. Several communities who still identified with their religious, ethnic, tribal or other affiliation found themselves under attack and resorted in a reflex of self-defense to further entrenchment.

The second half of the 20th century reveals some important elements about the viability of a secular political project – i.e. the Lockesian model of separation between religion and state — in a region mired in an identity crisis. Two main examples are quite conspicuous in this context: Turkey-Tunisia on one hand and Syria-Iraq on the other hand.

In the first case, both countries went through a transformation towards a secular political system under the leadership of a charismatic political figure (Mustafa Kemal Ataturk and Habib Bourguiba respectively). Despite their authoritarian style, both leaders ended up building European-like state institutions and imposed secular political practices and a modernistic lifestyle that lasted for decades. But what was bred in the bone came out in the flesh and in the last decade or so, both countries reversed their progress towards secularism. In Turkey, the process was challenged first by the transition to a multiparty system in the 1950s, then economic liberalisation in the 1980s. It was challenged further by the rise to power of the Justice and Development party (AKP), which has won all elections since 2002, promoted a heavy Islamic political agenda in the region and relentlessly pursued its strategic depth doctrine that includes weakening the nationalist pan-Arab identity while strengthening the Islamic identity.

Tunisia post-2011 has seen the revival of a suppressed religious identity and a resilient political constituency for Islamist parties ranging from 25% to 35% of voters, as visible in successive elections since the fall of the regime of former President Zine el-Abidine Ben Ali.

— Secularism models — 

The outcome of forced secularisation in Syria and Iraq is completely different as it led to the creation of one party dictatorships followed by civil wars centred around religious and sectarian identities. In a nutshell, none of the secularisation models tested in the region worked well. This historical overview clearly indicates that collective identities in the region are more political constructs than faith related. As a matter of fact, the various violent conflicts in the region involved people vehemently fighting for a religion while ignoring its most important precepts. These political constructs flourished in the wake of underperforming state institutions, leaving the space for non-state actors (religious, ethnic, or otherwise) to fill in the vacuum.

Unlike the transition to secularism in many parts of Europe, the concept in the MENA region was never an organic process caused by socio-economic developments and supported by intellectuals, but rather an imported model imposed by force. It was essentially modelled around the French anticlerical system and became a symbol of colonialism and equivalent to “fighting” religion.

This fake and ill-adapted form of secularism is not viable in the MENA. Therefore, the region is in dire need of an innovative governance model and a change in how identity is defined and whether it is used to undermine or strengthen state building processes.

The constitutions of both Lebanon and Iraq are built around sectarian based power sharing and quota systems, and given that both are closer to failed states than anything else, analysts and think-tanks are quick to diagnose this power sharing model as the reason for their falls. However, this conclusion ignores the myriad of other underlying and systemic issues plaguing the region’s failed states, (i.e. corruption, exclusion, and harmful social practices). It is distressing to see many thought leaders underestimating or even dismissing power sharing arrangements as valuable and advocating for traditional nation-state models in countries like Syria, Yemen and Libya that totally disregard the fears and interests of local populations.

It is true that in both Lebanon and Iraq, the concept of “power sharing” has been manipulated to serve the interests of a politico-business oligarchy and that this same system distorted the practice of democracy, impeded the accountability of public and corporate entities and figures and contributed significantly to endemic corruption and profuse violence that subvert societies in both countries. What is not clear though is whether any other political system would have yielded a different result. The answer to this question comes from other countries in the MENA (Egypt, Algeria, Syria…) that never embraced power sharing but continue to struggle nevertheless with political exclusion, violence, corruption, lack of accountability, inefficiency and social disparity. This article’s vocation is not to explore the root causes of the common trends of fragility in the region. However, the problem clearly does not lie in the nature of the regime itself. Many other countries in the world have used similar models and did not end up becoming failed states. So far, beyond the anecdotal realm, there is no solid evidence about the causality between these types of systems and the region’s disasters.

Concretely, many cite the electoral laws and government formation process in either Lebanon or Iraq as an incarnation of how the quota system undermines democratic practices. But in any other country, including the most advanced democracies, the ruling parties legislate for the elections and the winning political parties negotiate respective shares in the to-be government. The problem in this case is not the quota system (also dubbed “mouhassassa”) as much as the fact that political constituencies in the MENA are mostly shaped by religious, ethnic or other subsidiary identities. Furthermore, the electoral behavior of most voters is anchored in their anxiety to protect their identity and access material services. Until these fears are addressed and people have easy and equal access to services, any political system, whether power sharing or not, will be manipulated to serve the pernicious goals of a perverted political establishment.

In 2014, F. Gregory Gause rightly made the case that the main drivers of the MENA conflicts are not sectarian. However, most of the actors mentioned in the report are identity based. Furthermore, a study (2018) about the barriers to return for ethno-religious minorities in Iraq states that in the case of the Yazidis, identity based politics is “at the core of intra-communal divisions” and that the main split among Christians in Iraq is “between political and religious stakeholders.” Furthermore, the author proves through multiple data points and examples that the “obstacles preventing the return of ethno-religious groups to their areas of origins in the liberated areas of Northern Iraq is not lack of infrastructure or jobs”as it is often insinuated but rather“protection concerns and general sense of instability.” This same study goes further to suggest that even the administrative units’ boundaries in Nineveh Plain (Northern Iraq) should be modeled to address the issue of identities and assuage concerns about representation of ethno-religious groups in local councils, local police and other elements of the local government.

Surprisingly enough, a poll of Lebanese youth on politics and sectarianism (2020) highlights the changes –away from sectarianism — that have occurred among Lebanese youth. However, several figures in the poll reflect a lack of understanding – by the respondents — of some essential concepts, vague definitions and a political dilemma of sorts that is weighing on the political debate in Lebanon. Of the total sample, 58% of respondents claimed to be “religious,: While 90% said that religion does not affect their “judgement or relation to the other,” 31% did say that religion affects their “daily life and convictions”; and 53% said that religious affiliation somehow affects their political views.

— Overlapping notions– 

On another set of questions about separation between state and religion, some of the results are also confusing. While 48% said they support such a separation, 83% said they support the establishment of a “civil state” and only 13% support “secularism.” Knowing the overlap between the three concepts, the answers are indicative of ambiguous definitions and a lack of political awareness. On the other hand, the overwhelming majority (87%) who want to abolish the sectarian quota is not consistent with those who support a non-sectarian parliament (64%). If the sectarian quota is not abolished in parliament, where else is it relevant to abolish it?

As per the same poll, another overwhelming majority claim that the sectarian system failed to protect Lebanon, is behind corruption and lack of accountability (90%) and causes crisis (81%). But 69% nevertheless believe that the sectarian system protects the sects (though it discriminates against minorities), and 25% would still approve of“protecting the sectarian character” of their region.

In a recent report by the Lebanese Center for Policy Studies, three findings contradict a prevailing assumption that sectarianism is legal and political rather than social. The report analyses the results of independent secular – aka non confessional — candidates in the 2018 elections in Lebanon. The report found that “higher turnouts harmed independent lists’ results.” Given that the traditional political parties in Lebanon stem from a single specific religious – or even sectarian — constituency, the fact that independent secular candidates were not able to successfully compete with the “establishment” candidates in smaller electoral districts is by itself indicative of how pervasive identity based politics is in the society.

Despite the growing anger from Lebanon’s mainstream politicians, the waste management crisis, the 2015 massive demonstrations and other disappointments, most voters reverted to their identity-based groups rather than voting for emergent maverick candidates. The report further states that “independent candidates were more popular among their co-sectarian voters” and that even when voters had the opportunity to vote for someone from a different sect, 65% nevertheless chose a co-sectarian candidate. The report concludes that the independent candidates faced sectarianism on two levels: the state and the voters, and that the latter factor shaped to a large extent the outcome of the 2018 elections despite an all-time record of independent secular candidates.

These few examples corroborate the premise that the current plight in the region unfolds a lingering reality about persistent communal fears and collective identities.By just changing electoral laws or political systems, this problem will not be fixed. Worse, by “forcing” people — whether through violence as Saddam Hussein, Bashar Assad, Muammar Gadhafi and others did, or by “moral pressure” (i.e. making people feel bad about their own identity( – these collective identities will be pushed to further entrenchment rather than the much needed hybridisation.

Addressing the above-mentioned fears while changing the paradigms of political constructs from being identity based to cause based could be achieved through the fostering of an inclusive national identity and by providing constitutional guarantees.

Kristina Kausch, a senior resident fellow at the German Marshal Fund, rightly points out that in “reducing the potential of political instrumentalization of communal affiliations, the policy challenge is to reinforce the constituent dimension of identity, build inclusive identity narratives, and use identity politics not as a disruptor but as glue between communities.” The process of fostering an inclusive national identity should not lead to asking people to renounce their other identities. One can be a Kurd or Yazidi or Turkmen or Christian… and a loyal Iraqi or a loyal Lebanese citizen at the same time. The two (or more) identities are not- and should not be portrayed as- mutually exclusive, but rather complementary.

Constitutional guarantees are cursed by many “secularophiles” as anti-democratic, encouraging discrimination…etc. As much as this theory looks “convenient” and astounding for some elitist activists and international analysts, there are many examples in the world (Switzerland, Canada, Belgium, Romania…) where these kinds of guarantees were used to address communal concerns but did not go so far as to undermine democratic practices. Therefore, a reasonable compromise between both requirements is possible. Constitutional and legal checks and balances can ensure that a power sharing system does not get in the way of healthy democratic practices and effective functioning of the administration/access to services.

All in all, and despite what some analysts may assert, the region is in dire need of a new governance model that lets go of the romanticisation of the “nation state” and instead leans into accommodating all of the MENA’s vast array of subnational identities and their coexistence with inclusive national identities. If the current paradigm does not evolve, the region will continue to witness destruction, violence, and despair.