Friday, June 17, 2011

Op-Eds/Articles / Arab Politics

Democracy Uprisings Should Herald a New Dawn of Education Reform

Muhammad Faour Los Angeles Times, June 10, 2011
Muhammad FaourAs the popular uprisings in Egypt, Tunisia, and other Arab countries achieve their primary goal of changing the political regime, they will soon face the urgent need to reform the education system as well as the economy.
Consolidation of political democracy and economic liberalization requires citizens who have appropriate knowledge, skills and values. As states democratize, good governance will promote quality education, an objective that most Arab education systems have failed to achieve.
Despite the rapid expansion in primary and secondary education, Arab schools continue to have high dropout and repetition rates, with graduates lacking the required skills and knowledge to compete successfully in the global job market or to pursue quality higher education.
Curriculum in most Arab states tends to be didactic, teacher-directed, and does little to foster critical thinking skills and creativity.
Shortages of qualified teachers, low levels of learning achievement as demonstrated by test scores, weaknesses in national learning assessments, and a lack of public accountability also plague many Arab education systems.
Students' academic performance is generally low, as demonstrated by the results of international tests. Students in the fourth and eighth grades who participated in the TIMSS international tests in mathematics and science in 2003 and 2007 scored, on average, significantly below average.
Fourth-graders who participated in the PISA test on reading, mathematics, and science in 2003 and 2009 performed at a similar level. Fifteen-year-old students from the Arab states who took the PIRLS international test on reading achievement in 2006 also scored well below average.
Arab states currently undergoing popular unrest have shown a weak political commitment to produce independent, creative, responsible students, as such citizens may be more likely to challenge authority — be it political, religious, or traditional. Such education systems are generally unwilling to promote social values that flourish in democratic societies. As a result, teachers do not give voice to diverse opinions, dulling attempts at informed debate and limiting citizens’ capacity to reform their governments.
Political reform in the emerging Arab democracies needs citizens who have mastered 21st century skills in their ways of thinking (innovation, critical thinking, problem-solving, decision-making, and life-long learning); ways of working (communication and collaboration); tools for working (information literacy and information and communication technology, or ICT literacy); and ways of living in the world (local and global citizenship, and personal and social responsibility, including cultural awareness). The concepts of citizenship, empowerment, and community engagement are emerging as educational priorities for democracies.
Education for citizenship is an essential component of education reform. It encompasses knowledge and understanding of civics and the opportunities for participation in civil society, as well as ways in which the citizen may interact with and shape his or her own community and society. A responsible citizen may be defined as one who knows his or her legal rights and duties and how to contribute to the common good, and who can apply this knowledge to evaluate or justify the government’s policies and practices. Responsible citizenship, along with other civic values and attitudes, is first taught by parents, then by schools, starting in preschool or in primary grades.
Educating young Arabs for citizenship requires much more fundamental reform than what has so far been undertaken in education reform plans. It requires getting past several serious shortcomings in the Arab education and political systems.
These shortcomings begin at the individual student level, including low learning achievement; lack of creative, independent, and critical thinking; and lack of problem-solving skills. They also include the home or family level, which is often guided by authoritarianism, obedience to authority figures, limited freedom of expression, and dependence on a family network for prospective employment.
The shortcomings extend to the school level, where students are hindered by a lack of school autonomy, ineffective and traditional management, teacher-directed curriculum, a focus on knowledge of facts and concepts rather than analysis and critical thinking, a shortage of qualified teachers and learning resources, the absence of open discussions in classrooms, and limited opportunities for participation in governance processes.
More broadly, education challenges exist in the local community, with the dominance of authoritarian values, limited opportunities for participation in governance processes and decision making, constraints on freedom of speech and belief, and strong loyalty to one’s ethnic and/or religious group. Finally, at the national level, problems include poor governance in the ministries of education, nondemocratic regimes, a prevalence of corruption and lack of public accountability, constraints on freedom of speech and belief, fear of repression, substantial percentages of public workers who depend on the state for their livelihoods, and high rates of illiteracy and school dropouts in several countries.
To overcome those shortcomings, new democracies in the Arab world should be committed to comprehensive education reform, but particularly to citizenship education. Their governments should work with highly motivated educational practitioners from these countries and elicit support from community stakeholders at the school, local, and district levels, and from society at large.
Source: http://carnegie-mec.org/publications/?fa=44555

Thursday, June 16, 2011

How new is Egypt’s “new” foreign policy?

Editor's Note: Barak Barfi is a research fellow at the New America Foundation.  You can read more from Barak Barfi at Project Syndicate and be sure to check it out on Facebook and Twitter.
By Barak Barfi
CAIRO – In the months since Egyptian President Hosni Mubarak’s resignation, his successors have signaled a shift in foreign policy by reaching out to former adversaries.
Egypt’s government has welcomed Iranian diplomats and embraced the Palestinian group Hamas. Many interpret such moves as clear evidence of Egypt’s desire for a diplomacy that is not subordinate to American interests.
But Mubarak never entirely fit his detractors’ portrayal of him as an American lackey. In fact, Mubarak’s need to please his Saudi Arabian benefactors, not the United States, was paramount in his thinking. Although he sometimes supported American policies, Mubarak frequently rebuffed the U.S. when its positions did not align with his own.
Since the end of the October 1973 war, Arab-Israeli peace has been a cornerstone of America’s Middle East agenda. The U.S. often looked to Egypt, the most important and influential Arab country, to play a leading role in promoting this goal. And, when it suited him, Mubarak played his part. When the late Palestinian leader Yasser Arafat humiliated Mubarak before the U.S. Secretary of State and the international media by refusing to sign an annex to an Israeli-Palestinian accord brokered in Cairo, Mubarak told him, “Sign it, you son of a dog!”
On the other hand, when Arab public opinion opposed Palestinian concessions, Mubarak remained aloof from U.S. peace initiatives. For example, in 1996, he declined President Bill Clinton’s invitation to come to Washington, along with Arafat and the leaders of Israel and Jordan, to settle a bout of Palestinian violence. And when Clinton asked Mubarak to pressure Arafat to facilitate an Israeli-Palestinian peace deal during negotiations at Camp David in 2000, he refused.
Mubarak had a rocky relationship with Israel, and held America’s closest Middle East ally at arm’s length throughout his presidency.
For almost ten of his 30 years in office, Egypt had no ambassador in Tel Aviv. Mubarak never made an official state visit to Israel, and he frequently refused Israeli prime ministers’ requests to come to Cairo.
When the U.S. sought to extend the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty in 1994, Mubarak mobilized the Arab world against the initiative, because Israel refused to sign the NPT.
Instead, Mubarak’s relationship with the Saudis usually determined his foreign policy. When Iraq invaded Kuwait in 1990 and threatened to attack Saudi Arabia, Mubarak quickly dispatched troops to defend the kingdom. He was keen to support the Saudis and their Persian Gulf allies, who provided him with a steady flow of aid and an outlet for surplus Egyptian labor.
Though Mubarak’s opposition to the Iraqi invasion of Kuwait in 1991 happened to align with U.S. policy, he was unwilling to back other American campaigns against Arab leaders.
When President Ronald Reagan’s deputy national security adviser, John Poindexter, asked Mubarak to launch a joint U.S.-Egyptian attack against Libya in 1985, the Egyptian president scolded his visitor, saying, “Look, Admiral, when we decide to attack Libya, it will be our decision and on our timetable.”
Mubarak again refused to acquiesce in U.S. plans to isolate Libya in the 1990’s for its involvement in the downing of Pan Am flight 103 over Lockerbie, Scotland. Instead of ostracizing Libyan leader Col. Moammar Gadhafi, Mubarak welcomed him to Cairo.
After the United Nations imposed an international flight ban against Libya in 1992, its land crossings with Egypt proved crucial to Libya’s economy (and possibly Gadhafi's political survival). Libya withstood the sanctions in part by importing food and oil infrastructure supplies via Egypt, and by exporting petroleum and steel with Mubarak’s help.
In fact, Mubarak’s Libya policy was driven largely by economic and security concerns, and rarely took U.S. interests into consideration. More than one million Egyptians worked in Libya, which was also a large export market. And Gadhafi was eager to help Mubarak subdue Islamist threats to the Egyptian regime. Unlike neighboring Sudan, which harbored Egyptian radicals, like Al Qaeda leader Ayman al-Zawahiri, who were bent on destabilizing the country, Libya turned them over to Mubarak.
While Gadhafi delivered terrorists to Mubarak, the Egyptian president declined American requests to do the same. After Palestinians in 1985 hijacked the Italian ship Achille Lauro, killed an American, and berthed in Egypt, the U.S. asked Mubarak to extradite them. But Mubarak refused, saying that Secretary of State George Shultz was “crazy” if he believed that Egypt would betray the Palestinian cause.
Egypt’s new leaders have inherited Mubarak’s dilemma – how to realize the country’s aspiration to lead the Arab world without angering its Saudi benefactors.
For this reason, the Egyptian-Iranian rapprochement will yield more photo opportunities than tangible results.
On opposite sides of religious and ethnic divides, a close bilateral relationship would seem unlikely under even the best circumstances. And, with Egypt in need of massive financial aid to offset the economic losses caused by its February revolution, its leaders can ill afford to alienate the Saudis, who view Iran, not Israel, as the gravest threat to regional stability.
Egypt is entering a new era. But the radical policy upheavals predicted by analysts will prove to be small tremors. Saudi interests will continue to weigh heavily on Egyptian foreign policy. And that, above all, means preserving the status quo.
The views expressed in this article are solely those of Barak Barfi. Copyright: Project Syndicate, 2011. For more from Barak Barfi, visit Project Syndicate.

Sunday, June 5, 2011

The nuclear dilemmas of South Asia


An accelerating nuclear arms race between a fragile Pakistani government aiming at a strategic balance with India and an Indian state that ignores its neighbor's security concerns is on the verge of spiraling out of control, says Yogesh Joshi
About the author
Yogesh Joshi is a research scholar at the Center for International Politics, Organisation and Disarmament [6], School of International Studies, Jawaharlal Nehru University, New Delhi, India
The first five months of the year 2011 do not augur well for the nuclear situation on the Indian sub-continent. During a meeting [7] of the Conference on Disarmament (CD) earlier this year, Pakistan - again - categorically rejected the proposed Fissile Material Cut-off Treaty, the bone of contention being the imbalance between India and Pakistan in terms of fissile material. Without a guarantee that India will not use its stocks for the production of nuclear weapons in future, Pakistan feels compelled to continue its production of nuclear material as well as nuclear weapons to catch up with India and maintain the fragile balance in the region.
India on the other hand, disregarding Pakistani sensitivities, continued testing its [8] Ballistic Missile Defence (BMD) system, claiming that BMD has now been sufficiently developed to be fully integrated into its air defence framework by 2014. Pakistan reacted by test-firing a [9] short-range nuclear ballistic missile in April. The introduction of these missiles into the arsenal of Pakistan's military forces would turn South Asia into a host of tactical nuclear weapons – miniaturised nuclear weapons intended for frequent use against conventional armies, thereby lowering the threshold for the use of nuclear weapons in a conventional conflict and hence increasing the threat of a nuclear fiasco.
The arms race contributes to the security dilemma in the region that is on the verge of spiraling out of control. The situation is bound to deteriorate further due to the complete neglect of the other party's security concerns on both sides. Against the background of the prevalence of terrorism in the region and the danger of nuclear weapons falling into the hands of terrorist groups the need to stop this arms race and mutual negligence is imperative.

Who’s dilemma?

It is true that India's continued production [10] of fissile material, successful testing of the BMD, establishment of an aggressive military doctrine [11] termed 'Cold Start', and avoidance of serious negotiations on Kashmir have made Pakistan extremely nervous. India's fissile material inventories are huge, totalling more than 600kg of weapons grade plutonium and 1300kg of reactor grade plutonium. Even after IAEA safeguards were put in place, thanks to the Indo-US nuclear deal, India’s fissile material production continues unabated. All heavy water reactors which produce reactor grade plutonium are not under IAEA's supervision. Moreover, the Fast Breeder Reactor (FBR) programme - with a capability to produce large quantities of weapons grade plutonium - is entirely out of reach for inspections. Therefore, theoretically India could divert its fissile material to weapons production whenever it wishes to do so.
India also follows a strategy denying Pakistan any strategic space in the region. The BMD is directly motivated by the desire to blunt Pakistan's nuclear capability vis-a-vis India. The desire to emasculate Pakistan is also evident in the Indian Cold Start doctrine. Cold Start seeks to deliver a conventional punitive blow against Pakistan while avoiding a nuclear war. The fear in Pakistan is further aggravated by India's growing stocks of conventional weapons.
Pakistan, on the other hand, clearly focusses on the nuclear option. The integration of nuclear weapons into the basic security structure of Pakistan is on-going while nuclear red lines - thresholds under which a nuclear strike against the primary adversary India would be initiated - have been drastically reduced. Pakistan's national security discourse is mainly motivated by the revision of its borders with India and competition for regional supremacy. Therefore, nuclear weapons for Pakistan are not means to attain relative stability but a medium to challenge the status quo. As Shaun Gregory [12] suggests, Pakistan's preference is for a 'managed nuclear instability' in order to keep the pot of Kashmir and more broadly South Asia boiling for years to come. To this end, Pakistan has made nuclear weapons its primary asset. Today, the country claims the world's fourth largest nuclear arsenal and is striving hard to increase the numbers even further. The process of rapid nuclear expansion in a state already torn apart by fundamentalism and economic destitution portends extreme danger.

Neglecting the other

India seeks to isolate itself from the dilemmas faced by Pakistan. It claims that its fissile material inventories are meant for energy purposes; that BMD is defensive in nature; that Cold Start has never been officially recognised; and finally that Kashmir can be brought to the negotiating table once Pakistan makes good on its promises to stop terrorism.
However, remaining in such a state of denial cannot satisfy Pakistan. On the contrary, it signals a serious lack of intent on India’s part to even understand the difficult situation Pakistan is in. The current state of negotiations on strategic matters suggest that Pakistan hardly figures in India's nuclear thinking. Whereas Pakistan is most active in international forums incriminating its neighbour, India on the other hand seems to play the role of a deaf elephant.
Three arguments can account for India's indifference. First, India's emergence at the global stage and Pakistan's concomitant slump into a vortex of political instability and economic chaos has created an impression in India that Pakistan is no worthy adversary any longer. With India's growing economic and political room to manoeuvre, the role of Pakistan in its external security dynamics is waning except when it comes to the issue of terrorism. Moreover, India considers the nuclearisation of the subcontinent to have settled the border dispute once and for all. Therefore, Pakistan's role as a negotiator in territorial conflicts is further diminished.
Second, the tenor of India's nuclear programme has always been influenced by the prestige-seeking nature of its scientific community. If testing a nuclear device was the overall objective of Indian scientists in the last century, both the FBR programmes as well as BMD have become the symbols of the 21st century. Control over such strategic technologies and their association with national security provide the scientific community with an unprecedented access to political power. Arms control therefore does not augur well with India's scientific community.
Lastly, unlike during times when Prime Minister Atal Bihari Vajpayee undertook the 'leap of faith' during the Lahore summit in 1999, today both India and Pakistan lack the leadership which could jump start a serious process of arms control in the region. While Prime Minister Manmohan Singh has shown some exemplary courage in starting a dialogue with Pakistan recently, the rapidly unfolding story of Pakistan's 'hand in glove' approach with international terrorism, evident in the killing of Osama bin Laden and the on-going trial of David Headley in connection with the 2008 Mumbai terrorist attacks, has created a lot of skepticism [13] in India over the viability of a dialogue with Pakistan. On the other hand, in the case of Pakistan, it has often been futile to talk to the civilian government since the real seat of power and influence rests not in Islamabad but in the military garrisons of Rawalpindi. The civilian leadership barely exists and the true leaders of the country – the army generals - hardly want to talk to India.

Time for unilateral gestures

India needs to start acknowledging the unfolding security dilemma in South Asia. Pakistan’s growing nuclear arsenal along with fundamentalism on the rise poses a grave threat to India and the region as a whole, the resolution of which requires empathy with the other side's concerns and a building of trust.
Unilateral gestures can play a crucial role. First, the Indian government should disavow the Cold Start doctrine, which is even questioned by the Indian army itself: Whereas many high level army officers have supported the doctrine in the past, the current chief of the Indian Army has called it a figment [14] of India's think tank community. Moreover, there is a lack of coherence between the three defence services when it comes to fighting a limited war in the region. Both Navy and Air force blow their own, antagonistic trumpets: the former for air superiority and the latter for naval dominance. Cold Start has become a liability for the Indian government and has been used by Pakistan as an alibi for nuclear expansion.
Second, India’s objective in the region should be to maintain the offence-defence balance so that Pakistan is not prompted to increase its nuclear weapons arsenal drastically. Successful deployment of BMD in the region would pose an existential threat to Pakistan. Though India has a no first use policy, Pakistan has never accepted India's doctrine seriously. To stop Pakistan from unnecessary vertical proliferation, India must stop any further development of BMD. Such a move would send clear signals to Pakistan and the world that India is serious about maintaining the strategic balance in the region and does not seek to emasculate Pakistan. This would also embolden the civilian government vis-à-vis the military in Pakistan and motivate it to seek peace in the region.
Third, without understanding that Pakistan is a major stakeholder in the Kashmir conflict, India’s efforts to resolve the issue will remain futile. With growing unrest [15] in the Kashmir valley, the timely resolution of the issue has become an imperative. It is important to start serious talks on Kashmir also in order to provide an amicable environment to discuss the lingering nuclear question in South Asia.
India needs to realise that even though Pakistan may be a troublesome neighbour it is there to stay and has to be engaged. A 'blind leap of faith' in uncharted territories is at times a better strategy than conscious brinksmanship.

The author would like to thank Prof. Nicholas Wheeler, Dr. Meenakshi Gopinath and Seema Kakran for organising a workshop on Trust Building in Nuclear Worlds. This article is inspired by the ideas shared during the workshop.

Wednesday, June 1, 2011

Turkey as a model of democracy and Islam

Democracies are about more than elections and majorities: they require genuine separation of powers, autonomous institutions and associations, all regulated by the rule of law. The current Turkish situation is the product of social and institutional patterns, now in question, in which multiple centres of institutional power confronted and checked one another, unlike the centralised and personalised regimes of much of the Arab world.
About the author
Sami Zubaida is emeritus professor [7] of politics and sociology at Birkbeck College, London.
In the diverse discourses on the ‘Arab spring’, Turkey often comes up as a positive model of democracy, and one which is harmonious with Islam. In that model Islam is friendly to democracy and distant from militant jihadism. The system is favourable to enterprise and open to world markets, and has achieved enviable economic growth and a degree of generalised prosperity. It is reassuring to the west: a friendly and capitalist Islamic democracy, at peace with its neighbours, and indeed a force for stability and problem-solving [8] in the Middle East.
The main demands and slogans of the oppositional and revolutionary movements in the Arab countries are to do with liberty, democracy, jobs and livelihood and an end to corruption. Islam does not appear to be an issue. But, of course, there are diverse Islamic elements in the field, notably the Muslim Brotherhood in Egypt and Syria, and al-Nahda in Tunisia, those chiming in with the main thrust of the movement emphasising liberty and democracy. They are opposed by Salafi conservatives [9] for whom Islamic observances and disciplines are paramount, to be enforced by just government, and who reject alien and infidel models of society. This confrontation is now raging in Egypt. In these ideological fields, Turkey is regularly cited as a model of co-existence of Islam with democracy and pluralism, as well as a healthy capitalist economy.
I should like to discuss two issues: the present condition of Turkey is the result of historical trajectories of politics and society which are very different from those of the Arab states; and, is the rosy image of Turkish Islam and democracy accurate? The two are related.

Present conditions and past influences           

Turkey developed from the aftermath of World War 2 as an authoritarian state with electoral democracy. Elections and political parties actually functioned and there was alternation of government subject to election results. But the process was under strict monitoring and control by a powerful army upholding the principles of the Kemalist foundation [10], emphasising national unity, and therefore suppression of any regional or ethnic claims, mainly the Kurdish, and the principles of secularism. This latter did not actually banish religion from state functions, but subordinated it to state controls. The Religious Affairs Directorate, controlling mosques, schools and ritual functions and insuring political compliance, became one of the largest and best financed arms of government. Within this arrangement, Islam was Sunni Islam, and the considerable Alevi population [11] was marginalised, an issue which has acquired renewed significance in the present situation.
Turkish electoral democracy was subject to periodic disruption by the military, whenever the high command feared challenges to the Kemalist model of statist control and ‘secularism’, and the intensification of social conflict and violence. Military coups occurred in 1960, 71 and 80, and most recently in 1997 when a warning from the military members of the National Security Council (a body of government ministers and military commanders, and an instrument of military control) regarding the government coalition which included the pro-Islamic Refah Party [12], led to its resignation. It is important to note that this military guardianship enjoyed wide popular support. Turkish nationalism, always acute and often xenophobic and paranoid, was firmly supportive of the military, and opinion polls  regularly revealed this support. During the 1970s and 80s, Islamic political groups were close or convergent with extreme nationalists against the leftist movements, the Kurds and the Alevis, leading to escalating and violent confrontations and disorders, which were part of the pretext for the military coup of 1980.

The Ozal opening

The restoration of electoral democracy in 1983, after the 1980 coup, brought to power Turgut Ozal [13], a modern and modernising conservative, a former functionary at the World Bank, with personal Islamic roots and affiliations. His policies chimed in with global neo-liberalism and the pressures on Turkey to open up its economy, institute structural reforms, including privatisation of what has been a highly state- and military-controlled economy. Unlike most Arab countries, notably Egypt, Turkey has always had an independent business bourgeoisie, though restricted by state enterprise and regulation. Ozal’s reforms strengthened and expanded this bourgeoisie, especially in the provincial centres of Anatolia [14], a conservative and mostly religious bourgeoisie, distinct from and resentful of the cosmopolitan and secular bourgeoisie of Istanbul and Ankara. Ozal’s regime was much more tolerant of religious manifestations: Ozal himself had been affiliated to Naqshabandi Sufi [15] groups, strictly suppressed by Ataturk, but functioning in private networks and incubating many of the Islamic social and religious movements that were to come to prominence from the 1970s. Ozal also broke many of the Kemalist cultural taboos, most notably in patronising so-called Arabesque music and associating with its prominent singers. This genre had been excluded from the official canon and from state broadcasting, qualifying as ‘oriental’ music banned by the Kemalist functionaries. The Istanbul bourgeoisie of that era, worried about the Anatolian ‘invasion’ of their city, concocted the stereotype of the Anatolian nouveau riche frequenting Lahmacun saloons [16] (named after an Anatolian/Armenian/Arab dough crust topped with spiced meat, now dubbed ‘Turkish pizza’ in European cities), drinking whiskey and enjoying Arabesque songs.
The Ozal reforms initiated the opening up of the Turkish economy to world markets, a development which has proved highly beneficial to Turkish capitalism, offering opportunities for companies and entrepreneurs in trade and contracts in the Middle East, Central Asia and parts of Europe. Small businesses in provincial centres were among the main beneficiaries of these developments, many growing to considerable importance, and now dubbed the ‘Anatolian tigers [17]’. This is also the milieu for the cultivation of conservative Islam, with some Sufi connections. They became the main constituency for the Islamic political parties, favouring stability and social disciplines, quite distinct from and antithetical to the jihadist Islam feared by the west: hence the benign consideration of Turkish Islamic democracy. This is especially the case after the defeat of the more ideological and strident politics of Necmettin Erbakan [18], the first charismatic leader of the Islamic parties of the 1970s to 90s and frequent partner in coalition governments of the period. Recep Tayyip Erdoğan [19] and Abdullah Gul [20] and their Justice and Development Party [21] (AKP) emerged as the modern, reformist, capitalist face of pro-Islamic politics, often preferring to characterise themselves as a conservative party than as Islamic. Their rule, with repeated electoral successes since 2002, is credited with radical democratisation of Turkish state and society through legal and constitutional as well as institutional reforms. These reforms were aided by the process of negotiating accession to the European Union.

The European Union

There was an odd alliance between the AKP and the European Union. The Kemalist establishment and institutions, primarily the army command and its representation in the National Security Council, but also the judiciary and the media, were the main antagonist of the Islamists and the AKP. The authoritarian and repressive controls of this establishment restricted the range of legitimate expression and association. Vague legal formulations of offences such as undermining or insulting Turkishness or threatening national unity or abrogating the laicity of the state, were all used to prosecute Kurdish activists, human rights campaigners, those pursuing discussions of the Armenian massacres of the early twentieth century, as well as disapproved religious manifestations and parties, including veiled women in public institutions. The aspirations for EU accession were widely shared in both the secularist establishment and the Islamic party. The conditions imposed by the EU regarding democratisation, the so-called ‘Copenhagen criteria [22]’ exerted pressures for legal and institutional liberalisation which favoured the AKP. Military interference and the threat of coups diminished, and the range of options for military commands were severely restricted. This opened the way for reforms.

Multiple power centres: checks and balances

Here we come to a crucial characteristic of the Turkish political field post 1983 which makes comparisons with Arab states (though not necessarily Iran) inappropriate. The Kemalist establishment of the army, the judiciary, much of the press and the secular bourgeoisie, remained powerful and vociferous. But their dominance was being eroded with the increasing prominence of Islamic parties, institutions, media, education and public spaces, aided by electoral successes and the EU-influenced liberalisation. Electoral success was brought about through meticulous grass roots organisation, aided by social welfare networks at neighbourhood level and community organisation, a feature of all Muslim forces in the region. This contrasted with the complacent and fragmentary efforts of the traditional secular parties. Limited liberalisation opened up spaces for Kurdish activism. The net result was a situation in which there were multiple centres of power and influence, confronting and checking one another. None of those centres was liberal or unambiguously ‘democratic’, and the repressive and vaguely formulated laws continued to operate. Yet, the fact that none of those centres was totally dominant introduced measures of liberty and latitude, which allowed diverse forces, including human rights and Kurdish advocacy to function, and to challenge the draconian nationalist impositions. Judicial persecution of liberal intellectuals and human rights activists, as well as of religious manifestations, faced increasing and sometimes successful challenges, aided by European institutions and public opinion. Extreme nationalists resorted to violence, notably in the assassination in 2007 of the Armenian journalist Hrant Dink [23] in the middle of Istanbul. Nationalist violence continued to feature in relation to Kurdish [24] issues and regions. A crucial element in this field is the rise and increasing power of the Anatolian business elite, socially conservative and economically liberal, aided by the opening up of the Turkish economy to international markets, and the business opportunities in neighbouring countries. The ‘Anatolian tigers’ are part of the power base of the AKP party and of Islamic communal and conservative associations.
None of the Arab states, except Lebanon in a very different pattern, featured any elements which could remotely approach this pluralism of centres of power. Iran, especially after the Iraq war and the death of Khomeini in 1989, exhibited elements of this plurality and contention of power centres, notably during the Khatami presidency [25] (1997-2005), but in a very different political system. This plurality was considerably curtailed with the subsequent rise to dominance of a security state coalition under Ahamadinejad. The Turkish model, then, is quite inappropriate for the Arab countries in which the ruling regime holds dominant control over all centres, and bypasses state and economic institutions in personalistic networks of family, clan, patronage and cronyism. The removal of the heads of those regimes in Egypt and Tunisia has, so far, left much of the regime and its rickety institutions in place. Whatever government is brought in by elections, free or not, will inherit the opportunities and constraints of this situation. Reform remains an uphill struggle, especially under adverse economic, demographic and social conditions.

Authoritarian creep?

The entrenchment of the AKP in power after repeated, and probably continuing, electoral success, is now seriously encroaching on the plurality of power centres checking one another. In policy and legislation which seem to be steps in greater democratisation, the AKP is acquiring greater powers for the executive (itself) at the cost of the other centres. The extensive powers of the army command have been considerably curtailed. Constitutional amendments and legal reforms have given the government and the President powers over the appointment and management of the judiciary. The government has also been able to slot its appointees into the important institutions and bureaucracies of government, notably education and higher education. All past governments in Turkey, and the components of their coalitions had engaged in infiltrating their appointees into bureaucracy, police and education. The AKP, ruling alone without coalition, and ruling continuously since 2002, has been able to fill important posts consistently and cumulatively.
Backing the AKP is the Gulen movement [26], a conservative religious organisation with extensive wealth and power, extending its educational and charitable activity far and wide in Turkey and beyond. Its superior educational institutions, at all levels, have been producing graduates with qualifications for a wide variety of government service as well as business and the professions. It is widely believed that these constitute networks of influence favouring the AKP and social conservatism. A book by a journalist, Ahmet Sik [27],  documenting the Gulen network in the security services was recently confiscated by police and the author arrested. He was one of several journalists arrested on the accusation of being associated with a 2007 military conspiracy to overturn the government, the so-called Ergenekon conspiracy [28]. This has been used as a pretext for arrest of many public figures, detained without trial. In this respect the AKP in government is showing itself as a worthy heir of the Kemalist establishment. Critics of the government and its personnel in the media have been harassed and intimidated, sometimes sending in the tax inspectors to assess crippling sums in supposedly unpaid dues. Commentators have noted parallels with Russia and Putin in these respects.
These authoritarian developments are, in themselves, unrelated to the Islamic roots of the AKP: as the comparisons with Russia indicate, they are features of electoral authoritarian regimes, using electoral popularity as a mandate for executive control. Democracy is about more than elections and majorities: they require genuine separation of powers, autonomous institutions and associations, all regulated by the rule of law. There are, however, other aspects of authoritarianism which are related to religion.
Religious conservative groups, whether Muslim or Christian or other, have always sought to impose moralistic controls on family, sexuality and personal conduct. They also seek to control and censor cultural productions in conformity with religious doctrine and ‘respect for religion’. Legislation to those effects is difficult in Turkey, being under the watch of European institutions. Still, in 2004, the AKP parliamentary majority, supported by Erdogan, introduced legislation criminalising adultery. Erdogan backed down in the face European objections and widespread protests. By 2005 it became clear that EU accession would be unlikely in the foreseeable future, which lowered the pressure on the AKP to conform to European sentiment. Will this make it more likely for future moralistic legislation? Apart from the law, however, there are local, municipal and communal pressures towards moralistic conformity. Alcohol consumption has always been an emblematic target for Islamists everywhere. After the success of the then Refah Party in the 1994 municipal elections in Istanbul, the mayor of Beyoglu [29], the prime cosmopolitan entertainment district of Istanbul, tried to restrict the visibility of drinking by requiring establishments to hide drinkers behind curtains. This was greeted by outrage, demonstrations, and threats by the military, which forced a speedy withdrawal. That was a different age. Now, there are many reports of bans and restrictions on bars and liquor shops in many provinces, though obviously not in the main urban centres. The taxes on alcohol, however, have been raised in recent years.
Two conclusions can be drawn from the foregoing: the connection of Islam to democracy in Turkey is unique to the particular history and institutional pluralism of the country, and not applicable to any of the Arab neighbours; and that pluralism is now threatened by the repeated electoral successes of the AKP, establishing, in effect, the bases for a majoritarian authoritarianism [30], at both the institutional and the communal levels. The Muslim Brotherhood in Egypt has championed democracy and pluralism in its proclamations over the past years and to the present. But what do they understand by ‘democracy’? They are ambiguous and contradictory over issues of women and Christians, and over questions of cultural production, freedom of expression and ‘respect for religion’, all harbingers of authoritarian moralism. ‘Democracy’ then becomes majoritarian authoritarianism.