By Niaz Murtaza | 11/16/2011 12:00:00 AM
AKBAR Zaidi rightly argued in this paper recently that Pakistan`s governance problems under elected governments reflect failures of particular regimes rather than democracy, since Pakistan is yet to experience genuine democracy.
What is genuine democracy? Democracy is the government of the people by the people for the people. `Of and by the people` means that state power must be attained democratically through elections. `For the people` means that power is subsequently exercised democratically. Real democracy exists only when state power is attained and exercised democratically.
The concepts of democratic transition and consolidation help in unpacking the black box of democracy further.
Democratic transition represents the first move towards democracy. i.e. a country`s first free elections with near universal suffrage, competition and acceptance. Thus, it refers to how state power is attained.
Pakistan`s democratic transition started with the `Pakistani Spring`of March 1969 which overthrew Ayub and subsequently fostered free elections with near-universal suffrage and competition. Unfortunately, the transition was imperfect as the elections results were not universally accepted and caused Pakistan`s bifurcation.
Democratic consolidation consists of democratic stability and quality.
Democratic stability occurs when democracy is accepted as the only game in town, and free elections with near-universal suffrage, competition and acceptance are held regularly. Pakistan`s post-transition history poignantly reflects its struggles with democratic stability. Half of those 40 years have been spent under military rule. The seven elections held since then have all fallen short of global standards. Democracy is still not seen as the only game in town by the military and militants. It is not clear whether this government will complete its term and whether the next government will emerge democratically.
Finally, democratic quality means that power is exercised democratically after elections. It consists of six sub-dimensions. First, the elected government`s power must not be unconstitutionally fettered, functionally or geographically.
Functionally, Pakistan`s security policy always resides with the military while donors often exercise undue influence on economic policy. Geographically, parts of Pakistan often become `no-go` for governments while many rural elites maintain their own mini-kingdoms.
Second, the flip side of power not being fettered unconstitutionally is that it should be fettered constitutionally through its distribution. Horizontally, it must be distributed across the executive, legislature, judiciary and political parties.
Vertically, it should be devolved provincially and locally. Shore of considerable power unconstitutionally, Pakistani central executives become reluctant to share further power constitutionally. While the judiciary has succeeded in wresting some constitutional power, other horizontal institutions remain powerless. The 18th Amendment represents the first salvo in achieving provincial autonomy. However, local governments, toothless even earlier, are in limbo presently.
The third requirement is the rule of law, with clear, non-discriminatory laws and an efficient justice system to apply them to public and public officials.
Pakistan still uses many anachronistic British-era laws and has added other laws which discriminate against women and minorities. While the Supreme Court has breathed fire (two-pronged) into the judicial system, lower courts do not provide efficient justice while the police are notoriously corrupt. Finally, public officials escape justice because of NAB`s dis empowerment.
Fourth, elected governments should guarantee civic liberty and equality.
Beyond discriminatory laws, large sections of Pakistan`s population, especially women and minorities, have lost these rights to non-state actors, e.g. militants and landlords. Even elected governments exhibit neither the capacity nor the willingness to redress these usurped rights.
Fifth, real democracy requires policies which enhance economic equity, i.e.
equality of opportunities for all and safety nets for the vulnerable. Beyond populist rhetoric and makeshift programmes, economic policies even under elected Pakistani governments remain elitist, with little attempt to tax the rich adequately and implement socio-economic programmes.
Sixth, real democracy requires vigorous feedback loops from the electorate to the elected in between elections. These loops include electoral mechanisms and civil society activities. Pakistani media has definitely become vigorous lately though not necessarily mature. CNN transformed news from what had hap-pened in the past to what is happening presently through on-time ground coverage. Going one step further, certain Pakistani media outlets have miraculously transformed news into what will happen in the future, through armchair analysis. Consequently, much of their news consists of predictions, e.g., about when the government will fall.
So, it seems strange to blame democracy when Pakistan has never experienced it. Clearly, high democratic quality, as defined above, could help Pakistan resolve many knotty problems, e.g. corruption and poverty. Why has Pakistan struggled to attain real democracy? Some would argue, partly validly, that the frequent interruptions of democracy have undermined its quality.
However, more crucial is the absence of certain societal characteristics, i.e.
high education, incomes, urbanisation and meritocracy. These characteristics foster democratic quality by strengthenine the feedback loops unleashed by civilsociety activities.
These factors, in turn, are facilitated by increasing economic opportunities for common people. While poor governance hampers such opportunities in Pakistan, industrious Pakistanisescape this vicious circle of stagnation by migrating abroad and subsequently sending remittances, which create further opportunities. The process will be slow but such improvised opportunities represent Pakistan`s best chance of attaining real democracy and good governance.
Any mention of the fact that Pakistan`s societal characteristics may not be immediately suitable for real democracy provides fodder to imaginative minds looking forever for alternatives. Martial law has lost charm because of its repeated failures, but a controlled form of presidential democracy where the vast majority is disqualified from not only competing but even voting seems to be the current favourite. This option seems suspiciously similar to Ayub Khan`s failed experiments.
Another favourite in some circles is the `khilafat` option. In Muslim history, righteous khilafat lasted merely a few decades. Which is more likely to emerge in today`s Pakistan? Some people never learn from history it seems. To paraphrase Thatcher`s comment about capitalism, there is no alternative to democracy. While this slogan is certainly not true about capitalism, applied to democracy, there is no escaping from this simple truth. • The writer is a political economist at the University of California, Berkeley.
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
Friday, November 4, 2011
Higher education, lower incomes G DR PERVEZ TAHIR
The world's financial crisis and macroeconomic dif ficulties have adversely affected funding for education in most countries. Much like in Pakistan, while students are protesting, university spokespersons fear loss of competitive edge in knowledge-driven economies. In the process, some interesting analyses have emerged. Here in Cambridge this week, Haroon Chowdry of the Institute of Fiscal Studies in London made an interesting presentation on the funding crisis in the UK. Proposals like a graduate tax have been mooted.
Escalating costs have raised concerns about the impact on lower income groups. These groups are already underrepresented in universities, something that is very much in evidence in Pakistan. It should be obvious that higher costs would restrict access to higher education for students hailing from low-income groups. However, the presentation found a weak relationship between income and participation rates. Access to higher education is determined by the quality of pre-university education. In other words, if the poor go to bad schools, their grades will be no different.
Our own Higher Education Commission (HEC) lists quality, access and relevance -in that order -as the challenges it must face. While quality and relevance have not moved beyond rhetoric, the focus has been on access. This is not surprising as access is quantitatively defined and is related by the HEC to the physical expansion of universities, which itself is a function of government funding. As physical expansion slows down following deep budgetary cuts by a government repeatedly failing to keep its fiscal deficit within manageable limits, the HEC fears that the present lamentably low access is likely to stagnate or even fall. Access to university education is estimated at 5.1 per cent of the relevant age group. Education Policy 2009 fixes this target at 10 per cent for 2015.
But this policy also wants expenditure on education to go up to 7 per cent of GDP by 2015. If the future is guided by the present, 7 per cent of GDP looks more like the tax-to-GDP ratio of 2015! On average, public expenditure on higher education in countries that are part of the Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development is one per cent of GDP. The UK is below this average at 0.6 per cent. Poor Pakistan has been spending about half of it.
But whose access is the concern of the HEC? One has not seen any serious analysis. There is a casual mention in the mission statement that the “HEC will improve equitable access through establishing campuses and universities in backward areas, in providing financial assistance to needy students and in introducing soft disciplines, such as social sciences, media and journalism, and fine arts to cater more to the female population so gender parity is further reduced.“ As can be seen, the HEC would achieve equitable access through physical expansion, albeit in backward areas. Physical access is the idea, no matter how backward the university. Interestingly, the HEC wants to improve gender equity by reducing `gender parity'. If this were inattention to detail, calling social sciences, media and fine arts “soft disciplines“ meant for women reminds one of the long discarded `sewing machine' view of gender justice, which stereotypes them, even as it seeks to empower them. The writer, a former chief economist of the Planning Commission, is at present based at Cambridge pervez.tahir@tribune.com.pk
Escalating costs have raised concerns about the impact on lower income groups. These groups are already underrepresented in universities, something that is very much in evidence in Pakistan. It should be obvious that higher costs would restrict access to higher education for students hailing from low-income groups. However, the presentation found a weak relationship between income and participation rates. Access to higher education is determined by the quality of pre-university education. In other words, if the poor go to bad schools, their grades will be no different.
Our own Higher Education Commission (HEC) lists quality, access and relevance -in that order -as the challenges it must face. While quality and relevance have not moved beyond rhetoric, the focus has been on access. This is not surprising as access is quantitatively defined and is related by the HEC to the physical expansion of universities, which itself is a function of government funding. As physical expansion slows down following deep budgetary cuts by a government repeatedly failing to keep its fiscal deficit within manageable limits, the HEC fears that the present lamentably low access is likely to stagnate or even fall. Access to university education is estimated at 5.1 per cent of the relevant age group. Education Policy 2009 fixes this target at 10 per cent for 2015.
But this policy also wants expenditure on education to go up to 7 per cent of GDP by 2015. If the future is guided by the present, 7 per cent of GDP looks more like the tax-to-GDP ratio of 2015! On average, public expenditure on higher education in countries that are part of the Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development is one per cent of GDP. The UK is below this average at 0.6 per cent. Poor Pakistan has been spending about half of it.
But whose access is the concern of the HEC? One has not seen any serious analysis. There is a casual mention in the mission statement that the “HEC will improve equitable access through establishing campuses and universities in backward areas, in providing financial assistance to needy students and in introducing soft disciplines, such as social sciences, media and journalism, and fine arts to cater more to the female population so gender parity is further reduced.“ As can be seen, the HEC would achieve equitable access through physical expansion, albeit in backward areas. Physical access is the idea, no matter how backward the university. Interestingly, the HEC wants to improve gender equity by reducing `gender parity'. If this were inattention to detail, calling social sciences, media and fine arts “soft disciplines“ meant for women reminds one of the long discarded `sewing machine' view of gender justice, which stereotypes them, even as it seeks to empower them. The writer, a former chief economist of the Planning Commission, is at present based at Cambridge pervez.tahir@tribune.com.pk
Sunday, October 9, 2011
Rotten fruits of democracy
By Jalees Hazir | Published: October 9, 2011‘National Interest’ is the magic term employed by political leadership of all hues to explain away their unexplainable somersaults and marriages of convenience. Take the case of PML-Q for instance. Senior leaders and parliamentarians from the party bitterly criticised the unpopular government and questioned the political wisdom of being a part of it. The ministers belonging to the party were not happy for another reason; they felt that they did not enjoy the power to run their ministries the way they would have liked to and that they were being denied the instruments of power and patronage that being in government brings with it. So what were the assurances that President Zardari gave to Chaudhry Shujaat that convinced him to shelve the reservations of his party and jump back into the government's lap? Was he told that the PML-Q ministers would be given the power, privileges and patronage possibilities that they were complaining about? Or did the President enlighten him about secret rabbits in his magic hat, policies that would make the PPP-led government popular and hence not such a bad thing to be a part of?
For all we know, the discussion could have been about completely different matters. The PPP critics would say that their conversation on the telephone had nothing to do with either of the two issues, but revolved around Moonis Elahi and his troubles, and what the government would do to alleviate them. On the other hand, PPP jiyalas would swear by the reconciliation charm of their big boss and talk about saving the system and democracy from undemocratic forces. Reporters hobnobbing with those in the power circle and armed with unnamed, but reliable sources would come up with inside information and tell us a juicier story. Since the main characters of the story don't feel accountable to the people they represent, and do not feel that they owe the nation some explanation, the people of Pakistan would be left to themselves to draw their own conclusions.
The contents of the dialogue between the PPP and MQM, and the dynamics of their on-again, off-again cooperation is similarly left to the imagination of shocked citizens, carefully decided in meetings between ace negotiators conducted behind closed doors and clouded by a smokescreen of statements that mean nothing. There is no word about Dr Zulfiqar Mirza's serious allegations, no attempt by the MQM to clear itself of specific charges he levelled against the party and no desire on part of the PPP to probe Rehman Malik whose dubious role in the Karachi crisis was boldly challenged by the former Sindh Home Minister. The two parties have obviously come to some understanding about sharing power, but they would not like us to know about the terms of that understanding. As they play their power games, they would like an uninformed electorate to have trust in them and play along.
Meanwhile, the opposition parties are divided due to their own petty partisan interests and are unable or unwilling to agree on a national agenda that addresses the problems of governance. There is a readiness on their part to raise issues of public importance, but there is no effort to enter into a dialogue with each other to create a consensus on the way out of the impossible situation that the citizens find themselves in. They raise a hue and cry about excessive loadshedding when the desperate citizens can't take it anymore and come out on the streets of our cities in violent protests against the insensitivity of the government. They shed tears about the plight of people displaced by floods. They make loud noises about the government selling out to the US interests. But they wouldn't cooperate on developing a strategy to put pressure on the government to address these issues or to throw it out.
So the democracy circus continues, as the problems confronting the nation mount. The political leadership continues in its power games that have lost all relevance to the public and its issues. The political bosses are deaf, even to the conscientious objectors within their parties, who bring their attention to their responsibility to the people and the dangerous outcome of the games they play. And when other, more democratically evolved institutions like the Supreme Court and the independent media manage to bring a perspective informed by the national interest into focus, they scuttle the possibility of acting in the direction by drowning out these voices of sanity in their loud partisan squabbles that are only aimed at point-scoring and furthering their petty political objectives. Interestingly, they would like the citizens to swear by democracy as an article of faith. Why would they?
The argument that our democracy has problems because it has been interrupted too often does not hold. We need to look deeper into the malaise of a system that is supposed to represent the interests of the people, but ends up bolstering the fortunes of the political elite and its privileged sponsors. After all, the system of democracy has had a smooth sailing in the US. Yet, the Occupy-Wall-Street initiative has unleashed an angry movement in that country against a system that the American citizens feel doesn't represent them. The students, labour unions, the unemployed, and the underprivileged and even conscientious citizens, who have not suffered directly due to the pro-rich and pro-war policies of their democratic government, are out on the streets to challenge a system that benefits a small minority at the expense of the vast majority. It is unlikely that they could be convinced that a few more elections would make things fall in their right democratic place.
The writer is an independent columnist.
Email: hazirjalees@hotmail.com
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Pakistan – the way forward
| Atta-ur-Rahman |
| We live in an age in which natural resources have diminishing importance. Knowledge has become the single most important factor for socio-economic development. Countries that have realised that their real wealth lies in their children and invested massively in education, science, engineering and innovation have surged forward, leaving others behind. Just one company of Finland (Nokia), a country with a population about one-fourth of Karachi, has exports that are double the entire exports of Pakistan! Singapore, also with a similarly small population, has exports of $351 billion, almost 18 times those of Pakistan. South Korea revamped its educational system, laying emphasis on higher education, science and technology, and increased its university enrolment from five percent of the age group in 1960 to 92 percent of the same age group in 2010. The result was an astonishing increase in its exports, from $32 billion in 1960 to $466 billion by 2010. (Pakistan’s exports stagnate at about $20 billion.) What went wrong in Pakistan? Since its formation in 1947 Pakistan has been facing one crisis after another. It is oscillating between successive democratic and military regimes. Regular military interventions were necessitated by corrupt governments which looted and plundered at will whenever they got an opportunity to do so, putting to shame the vision of Quaid-e-Azam Mohammed Ali Jinnah of a progressive, modern Pakistan. The military governments failed to punish those criminal politicians and bureaucrats who amassed vast fortunes abroad. In contrast, India brought in genuine land reforms and, guided by the vision of Jawaharlal Nehru, gave the highest emphasis to education, science and technology. In contrast, Pakistan – where a robust middle class did not emerge because of the absence of land reforms – has developed one of the worst school systems in the world. The powerfully entrenched feudals, who have a stranglehold on the cabinets and parliaments, gave education the lowest importance, with Pakistan spending only 1.2 percent of its GDP, which makes it comparable to Bhutan, Nepal or Togo. We are now ranked among the bottom 10 countries of the world in terms of investments in education, a shameful fact about a nuclear power. The result has been an illiterate and lawless nation, drowning in foreign loans while the powerful loot and plunder. What, then, is the way forward? Clearly, the British parliamentary system of democracy has been an abject failure. Military rule is also not an answer. Learning from bitter experiences, we need to adopt a system of governance which will root out and prevent corruption and promote the development of a strong knowledge economy. The following key proposals are made in this connection: 1. Governance Reforms: We need to bring in constitutional and governance reforms by abolishing the present parliamentary form of democracy (which is bringing up largely corrupt politicians – 51 were found to have forged degrees and the degrees of another 250 are suspect) and replace it with a presidential form of democracy. The cabinet ministers, who should be eminent experts in their respective fields, could then be appointed directly on merit by the president (who will be the chief executive), from outside parliament. The Constitution will need to be changed to make this happen. The revised Constitution should also ensure that parliamentarians are highly educated, as their primary job is lawmaking. Government secretaries should all be persons of international repute in the fields in which they are holding secretarial positions, and be selected on merit after open competition. The above measures will ensure that there will always be a competent government of technocrats. The positions of president, secretaries and parliamentarians should be screened by an Eminent Citizens Committee to be appointed by judges of the Supreme Court for “suitability” prior to their election/appointment. Persons judged by this committee as having “doubtful reputation” should not be allowed to contest any elections or hold any key positions in government or in government-controlled institutions. The heads and members of the boards of governors of public-sector organisations (PIA, the Steel Mills, etc.), as well as of such organisations as the Federal Board of Revenue, the FIA, the NAB, should be appointed by their respective boards of governors on merit after screening by the Eminent Citizens Committee, and not by the government. They should work as completely autonomous organisations reporting to their own eminent boards of governors and not to any government ministry or official. It is notable that the former federal minister of finance, Mr Shaukat Tareen, estimated corruption of Rs500 billion annually in the FBR alone! 2. Education: If we are to rid ourselves of the crushing poverty and the huge national debt, we must develop a robust knowledge economy. This is only possible if we make necessary amendments to our Constitution to force our decision-makers to give education the highest national priority. Malaysia has been investing 30 percent of its budget for the last 30 years – we must by a constitutional requirement do the same. The only way out for Pakistan from its myriad difficulties – law and order problems, corruption, non-functional democracy, poverty, industrial stagnation, etc. – is to make quality education the launching pad for a new Pakistan. With about 90 million young people below the age of 19, we have a tremendous potential human resource. This offers a unique opportunity for development. If we empower this huge young workforce with quality education and training, and provide opportunities for jobs in key economic sectors, then a wonderful future lies ahead. If we don’t, then this can become a stifling burden that will only lead to massive poverty, frustrations and crime. Massive investments in education at all levels will allow us to develop the knowledge workers that are needed in high-tech industries – engineering goods, pharmaceuticals, biotechnology products, metallurgy, information technology, electronics, high value-added agriculture products, defence goods etc. – so that we can compete in the comity of nations. A national technology policy directed at achievement of national self-reliance needs to be formulated and implemented so that we become a major global exporter of high-tech products. 3. Prompt Access to Justice: We must punish the corrupt and those responsible for terrorism. The normal legal system has failed in this respect, because of the life threats to judges and witnesses by the powerful, the corrupt and terrorists. This has to be initially done under independent military courts until cleanup is achieved and a proper functional police force is established. Those who have amassed vast amounts of national wealth in foreign lands must be forced to return it to the nation and spend the rest of their lives in jails. A major overhaul of the justice system would be needed, including a mandatory requirement that court decisions are made within three months by strengthening the courts. This will need to be accompanied by genuine land reforms and abolition of the patwari system through computerisation of land records, our courts are choked by land disputes. The decision is ours to make as a nation. We have the natural and human resources and creative, hardworking people. The dream of Mohammed Ali Jinnah, the father of our nation, can become a reality if we are courageous and set a new path for ourselves through the above reforms. The writer is former federal minister for science and technology, former chairman of the Higher Education Commission. Email: ibne_sina@ hotmail.com |
Friday, August 12, 2011
August 8, 2011
SNAPSHOT
Turkey's General Dilemma
Democracy and the Reverse Coup
Omer Taspinar
OMER TASPINAR is Professor of National Security at the National War College and a nonresident Senior Fellow at Brookings’ Center on the United States and Europe.The days of military coups in Turkey are officially over. Half of all Turkish admirals and one out of ten active duty generals are currently in jail for plotting against the government, and on July 29 the military's chief of staff resigned over a disagreement with Turkish Prime Minister Recep Tayyip Erdogan about staff promotions. The same day, the heads of the army, navy, and air force requested early retirement. These developments are a paradigm shift for a country that has experienced constant military meddling and three military coups in the last half century.
Perhaps the most surprising aspect of last week's events was that they did not cause any public uproar or panic. Turkey's stock exchange opened to gains last Monday, and the government seems to be going about its business as usual. This is unexpected, as Turkey's armed forces have traditionally been well respected. The military was the first institution of the Ottoman Empire to modernize, adopting Western military strategy, weapons, as well as science and education methods. Almost all modern Turkey's hallowed founding fathers -- the Young Turks and Mustafa Kemal Atatürk -- were military officers determined to westernize and secularize Turkey's government, laws, education system, and even its clothes and alphabet.
Of course, Atatürk's cultural revolution was not universally embraced, especially among the pious rural masses. As a Kemalist slogan from the 1920s put it, the Turkish government ruled "for the people, despite the people." In the 1920s, the military had to suppress more than a dozen Kurdish and religious uprisings. These experiences traumatized the young republic's military leaders and left them suspicious of all things Kurdish and Islamic.
For the officers, then, democracy was a gamble. Kemalism had given the republic a secularist and nationalist political structure. According to the military, this political structure was the "realm of the state" and had to be protected from the "realm of politics." In other words, politics had to be properly monitored to prevent the rise of Islamism or other factions that would not uphold the republic's fundamental principles.
In 1960, 1971, and 1980, Turkey's powerful military launched coups to defend the realm of the state. In 1960, it intervened because it thought the government had become too authoritarian; in 1971 and 1980, it acted to put a stop to rising socialism. And in 1997, the army pushed Prime Minister Necmettin Erbakan out of office in the name of defending secularism. Until recently, the military still routinely interfered in politics through the National Security Council, where the top brass exerted considerable political influence over the civilian cabinet.
The story of the military's fall is also the story of the consolidation of power of Turkey's Justice and Development Party (AKP). Although its roots lay in a banned Islamist party, the AKP was allowed to participate in national elections in 2002. Its victory that year was followed by a tense détente with the military that lasted until 2007. That year, Erdogan nominated Abdullah Gül, a well-respected foreign minister, to the post of president -- a position that, for the military, represented the last inviolable bastion of Kemalist secularism. For the generals, the move crossed a red line. In their eyes, Gül -- a man who once flirted with political Islam and whose wife wears a head scarf -- posed an existential threat to Atatürk's republic.
Soon after Erdogan announced the nomination, Yasar Büyükanit, the Turkish chief of staff, staged what a dumbfounded press dubbed an "e-coup." He posted a warning on the Turkish military's official Web site stating that "if necessary, the Turkish Armed Forces will not hesitate to make their position and stance abundantly clear as the absolute defenders of secularism." His note was a thinly veiled threat that a conventional coup might be in the offing.
Instead of backing off, Erdogan defied the military and called early elections, which he won with a landslide 47 percent of the vote. He appealed to the democratic instincts of the Turkish people and touted his economic record. (Between 2003 and 2007, the AKP government had doubled the country's per capita income, significantly improved its democratic record, and begun accession negotiations with the European Union.) Erdogan quickly swore in Gül as president, and Gül promised to abide by Turkey's secular principles and continue to steer the country toward the European Union. Even so, the top brass refused to salute him during his inaugural visit to parliament and stayed away from his oath-taking ceremony.
Since 2007, the Turkish economy has continued to grow, unemployment is at a record low, and Turkey's global stature has reached new heights. As revolutions shook the Middle East in the spring, reformers in Egypt, Jordan, Morocco, Syria, and Tunisia cited Turkey as a model democracy. Last June, the AKP won its third consecutive electoral victory, this time with 50 percent of the vote.
In a sense, the generals' resignation was the next logical step in Turkey's political maturation; no true democracy can place the military's will above the people's. But troublingly, the country remains deeply polarized, with members of the opposition ever more concerned about creeping authoritarianism and Islamism. They call the government a civilian dictatorship and deplore its use of the judicial system to neuter the military, the opposition media, and rival political parties.
At the heart of the opposition's argument is a court case against Ergenekon, a shadowy organization with possible ties to the military. The judiciary launched the case in 2007, shortly after AKP's second electoral victory, claiming that Ergenekon had planned a coup. The prosecutor of the case accused hundreds of military officials, journalists, and political activists of being involved. According to leaked documents about the case, the Ergenekon network was allegedly behind a number of bombings and assassinations. It planned to use the chaos as a pretext for a coup.
The main problem with the case is that it has yet to reach a verdict despite the arrest of hundreds of suspects. Critics of the AKP argue that the government is using the case to silence its secular opponents, but the AKP responds that it does not control the judiciary and has itself been the court's regular target; in 2008, the constitutional court came close to banning the AKP party and Erdogan from politics for promoting an Islamist agenda.
Two week's ago, after the military's plans were revealed to appoint or promote 250 soldiers and officers who are awaiting hearings as part of the Ergenekon trial, Erdogan announced that he would not allow the military's scheme to go forward. This prompted the spate of military resignations. The fact that the generals chose to bow out rather than fight Erdogan's decision signals just how much power has shifted from the military to civilians. For his part, Erdogan swiftly named General Necdet Ozel acting chief of staff and commander of ground forces.
Supporters of Erdogan and his party, the AKP, argue that the resignation of the commanders is a sign of Turkish democracy's new maturity and its embrace of Western-style civilian supremacy over the military. Detractors, however, express serious concern about the disappearance of checks and balances that they believe have kept civilian governments from becoming authoritarian.
In fact, Turkey is not yet a liberal democracy. But it is certainly moving in the right direction. Those who argue that the military was an essential check on civilian politics should understand that Turkey is now becoming a "normal" democracy, where elections, public opinion, opposition parties, the parliament, the media, and civil society all exert more power. And unlike the military, these institutions have a legitimate role to play in politics.
Meanwhile, in order to prove that Turkey is not becoming more authoritarian, Erdogan must address the critical challenges facing the country -- the Kurdish question, human rights, and freedom of expression -- by creating a more democratic constitution. If he fails, he will have only himself to blame. For the first time in the republic's history, Turkey's performance is totally in the civilians' hands.
Omer Taspinar
OMER TASPINAR is Professor of National Security at the National War College and a nonresident Senior Fellow at Brookings’ Center on the United States and Europe.The days of military coups in Turkey are officially over. Half of all Turkish admirals and one out of ten active duty generals are currently in jail for plotting against the government, and on July 29 the military's chief of staff resigned over a disagreement with Turkish Prime Minister Recep Tayyip Erdogan about staff promotions. The same day, the heads of the army, navy, and air force requested early retirement. These developments are a paradigm shift for a country that has experienced constant military meddling and three military coups in the last half century.
Perhaps the most surprising aspect of last week's events was that they did not cause any public uproar or panic. Turkey's stock exchange opened to gains last Monday, and the government seems to be going about its business as usual. This is unexpected, as Turkey's armed forces have traditionally been well respected. The military was the first institution of the Ottoman Empire to modernize, adopting Western military strategy, weapons, as well as science and education methods. Almost all modern Turkey's hallowed founding fathers -- the Young Turks and Mustafa Kemal Atatürk -- were military officers determined to westernize and secularize Turkey's government, laws, education system, and even its clothes and alphabet.
Of course, Atatürk's cultural revolution was not universally embraced, especially among the pious rural masses. As a Kemalist slogan from the 1920s put it, the Turkish government ruled "for the people, despite the people." In the 1920s, the military had to suppress more than a dozen Kurdish and religious uprisings. These experiences traumatized the young republic's military leaders and left them suspicious of all things Kurdish and Islamic.
For the officers, then, democracy was a gamble. Kemalism had given the republic a secularist and nationalist political structure. According to the military, this political structure was the "realm of the state" and had to be protected from the "realm of politics." In other words, politics had to be properly monitored to prevent the rise of Islamism or other factions that would not uphold the republic's fundamental principles.
In 1960, 1971, and 1980, Turkey's powerful military launched coups to defend the realm of the state. In 1960, it intervened because it thought the government had become too authoritarian; in 1971 and 1980, it acted to put a stop to rising socialism. And in 1997, the army pushed Prime Minister Necmettin Erbakan out of office in the name of defending secularism. Until recently, the military still routinely interfered in politics through the National Security Council, where the top brass exerted considerable political influence over the civilian cabinet.
The story of the military's fall is also the story of the consolidation of power of Turkey's Justice and Development Party (AKP). Although its roots lay in a banned Islamist party, the AKP was allowed to participate in national elections in 2002. Its victory that year was followed by a tense détente with the military that lasted until 2007. That year, Erdogan nominated Abdullah Gül, a well-respected foreign minister, to the post of president -- a position that, for the military, represented the last inviolable bastion of Kemalist secularism. For the generals, the move crossed a red line. In their eyes, Gül -- a man who once flirted with political Islam and whose wife wears a head scarf -- posed an existential threat to Atatürk's republic.
Soon after Erdogan announced the nomination, Yasar Büyükanit, the Turkish chief of staff, staged what a dumbfounded press dubbed an "e-coup." He posted a warning on the Turkish military's official Web site stating that "if necessary, the Turkish Armed Forces will not hesitate to make their position and stance abundantly clear as the absolute defenders of secularism." His note was a thinly veiled threat that a conventional coup might be in the offing.
Instead of backing off, Erdogan defied the military and called early elections, which he won with a landslide 47 percent of the vote. He appealed to the democratic instincts of the Turkish people and touted his economic record. (Between 2003 and 2007, the AKP government had doubled the country's per capita income, significantly improved its democratic record, and begun accession negotiations with the European Union.) Erdogan quickly swore in Gül as president, and Gül promised to abide by Turkey's secular principles and continue to steer the country toward the European Union. Even so, the top brass refused to salute him during his inaugural visit to parliament and stayed away from his oath-taking ceremony.
Since 2007, the Turkish economy has continued to grow, unemployment is at a record low, and Turkey's global stature has reached new heights. As revolutions shook the Middle East in the spring, reformers in Egypt, Jordan, Morocco, Syria, and Tunisia cited Turkey as a model democracy. Last June, the AKP won its third consecutive electoral victory, this time with 50 percent of the vote.
In a sense, the generals' resignation was the next logical step in Turkey's political maturation; no true democracy can place the military's will above the people's. But troublingly, the country remains deeply polarized, with members of the opposition ever more concerned about creeping authoritarianism and Islamism. They call the government a civilian dictatorship and deplore its use of the judicial system to neuter the military, the opposition media, and rival political parties.
At the heart of the opposition's argument is a court case against Ergenekon, a shadowy organization with possible ties to the military. The judiciary launched the case in 2007, shortly after AKP's second electoral victory, claiming that Ergenekon had planned a coup. The prosecutor of the case accused hundreds of military officials, journalists, and political activists of being involved. According to leaked documents about the case, the Ergenekon network was allegedly behind a number of bombings and assassinations. It planned to use the chaos as a pretext for a coup.
The main problem with the case is that it has yet to reach a verdict despite the arrest of hundreds of suspects. Critics of the AKP argue that the government is using the case to silence its secular opponents, but the AKP responds that it does not control the judiciary and has itself been the court's regular target; in 2008, the constitutional court came close to banning the AKP party and Erdogan from politics for promoting an Islamist agenda.
Two week's ago, after the military's plans were revealed to appoint or promote 250 soldiers and officers who are awaiting hearings as part of the Ergenekon trial, Erdogan announced that he would not allow the military's scheme to go forward. This prompted the spate of military resignations. The fact that the generals chose to bow out rather than fight Erdogan's decision signals just how much power has shifted from the military to civilians. For his part, Erdogan swiftly named General Necdet Ozel acting chief of staff and commander of ground forces.
Supporters of Erdogan and his party, the AKP, argue that the resignation of the commanders is a sign of Turkish democracy's new maturity and its embrace of Western-style civilian supremacy over the military. Detractors, however, express serious concern about the disappearance of checks and balances that they believe have kept civilian governments from becoming authoritarian.
In fact, Turkey is not yet a liberal democracy. But it is certainly moving in the right direction. Those who argue that the military was an essential check on civilian politics should understand that Turkey is now becoming a "normal" democracy, where elections, public opinion, opposition parties, the parliament, the media, and civil society all exert more power. And unlike the military, these institutions have a legitimate role to play in politics.
Meanwhile, in order to prove that Turkey is not becoming more authoritarian, Erdogan must address the critical challenges facing the country -- the Kurdish question, human rights, and freedom of expression -- by creating a more democratic constitution. If he fails, he will have only himself to blame. For the first time in the republic's history, Turkey's performance is totally in the civilians' hands.
Sunday, August 7, 2011
Multiculturalism and postmodernity: a challenge to our political structures
Mono-cultural nationalism can no longer provide us with the national identities we need. The formation of multi-cultural civic identities requires a new way of drawing our political maps.
Multiculturalism demands a politics of recognition. It implies that the cultural identity of ethnic and national minorities should be recognized, and that these minority cultures should have specific rights in order to express and maintain their culture. Therefore, politics and culture should not be two separate spheres. In multiculturalism, politics actively interferes in culture. In liberalism, however, culture and politics are seen as separated. The liberal principle of benign neglect means that the State should hold a neutral position when it comes to culture. “Culture” belongs exclusively to private life. Charles Taylor rightly states that this principle is untenable, since both State and politics are always culturally embedded. Politics itself is a cultural practice, in which norms and values play an important role. Therefore culture cannot exclusively belong to private life: culture is also a part of the political arena, there is no line between politics and culture. This is a postmodernist conception of the relationship between such categories as society, arts, science, and politics.Postmodernism problematizes the existence of fixed borders between categories that are traditionally seen as strictly separated. Take, for instance, the sharp distinction between science and politics. Science is always performed through the eyes of individuals who hold certain values and norms, and therefore cannot be unbiased. The categories are no longer separated but have become hybrid.
Max Weber argued that politics is in an isolated world of rational top-down decision-making, which exclusively belongs to the political sector. Through legal procedures within an efficient and effective bureaucracy, policy provides blueprints which are then applied ready-made to a distinct and separate sector: society. But this rational view of the machinery of bureaucracy, the cause and effect of its rules and regulations, no longer works. It is not possible to make blueprints centrally and top-down. Nowadays, in order to win support for your blueprints, for rules and regulations, negotiations are needed within a broad field of interest groups. Several actors who have concerns in a specific policy area will demand to have a place at the negotiating table. Policy measures will only win that support if the actors feel that they can influence the outcome of the policies that affect them. So, the blueprints are being constructed bottom-up as well. In this middle range of meso-politics, the outcome of any given blueprint is no longer a fixed product, but rather changes in the enactment. Political goals are no longer reached through modernist rationality, they are reached through participation. This is a network of actors, who all have their own goals, and who deal and negotiate in order to reach compromises. In this postmodern world we see society and politics as intermixed, just as in our multicultural world we see that culture and politics are intermixed. The politics of multiculturalism requires this network approach.
The concept of postmodernity is part of a normative theory relating to empirical reality. Latour’s ‘we have never been modern’ is a statement that is descriptive as well as prescriptive. Multiculturalism can succeed in states that have postmodern network societies. But it will not work in states that are still stuck with modernist top-down decision-making governments. There is a strong connection between multiculturalism and postmodernism. Both, as practice and as norm, reject totalizing and universal concepts, and instead recognise difference and pluralism. Both reject Platonic absolutism and embrace relativism.
Enlightenment concepts of rationalism, centralism and monoculture have to be replaced by notions of diffusion,negotiation and diversity in order to make multiculturalism work successfully. In modernism, national identity presupposes nationalism and vice versa. Nineteenth century nationalism, as an aspect of modernity, went hand in hand with nation-building and drew on the Enlightenment notion that states can be engineered. In these days, notions of nation-building around a group identity are being replaced by notions of globalisation, individualism and diffusion. In Canada, nationalism and national identity are not the same, because there is no official ethnic or national majority group. This does not mean that there are no majority identity groups within Canada, but that Canadian politics has explicitly opted for not choosing one ethnic group as dominant. This is one example, a model, of how to make multiculturalism work. Canadian nationalism celebrates diversity, minority languages and minority cultures. The Canadian identity is officially multicultural. Multiculturalism in Canada articulates the ideology of a non-nation.
Given that postmodernity is a condition for successful multiculturalism, states that largely rely on party-democracies will have difficulty in adapting to multiculturalism, and fostering a politics of multiculturalism. Party democracies still make a strict modernistic distinction between culture (society) and politics. In the field of decision-making, politics has a monopoly. Policy exclusively belongs in the hands of those who are members of, or who belong to, specific political parties. Societal actors do not participate in politics and are excluded. Decision-making is not understood as taking place within a network of actors; it is imposed from the top down upon society in general, with a political party as the central actor.
Only a strong civic culture within society can break this division between politics and society. A meso-political level is needed in order to create successful multiculturalism: ethnic and many other minorities within a strong civic society can then become actors that take part in the processes of decision-making. In this way, blueprints for society are co-created with support from all the actors within this network, without any cultural group finding themselves completely excluded.
Party democracies, however, rely on the notion that they can engineer societies rationally top down, without letting all identity groups participate. States are becoming more and more diverse through processes of globalisation and immigration, yet party democracies still act according to the principles of the Enlightenment as professed in modernism. With the move away from mono-ethnic nationalism, we must reshape the political system.
Territorial autonomy, or decentralisation, if well designed, is one way to ensure the involvement of minorities in the network of decision-making. Such politics can be adapted to multi-ethnic and multi-national states in which minority groups are geographically concentrated. In case such groups are not geographically concentrated, a system should be designed according to the model of 'grand coalitions', a system of policy-making in which all identity groups have representatives inside government.
Sunday, July 10, 2011
Building stable and peaceful states
Building stable and peaceful states: a new framework for international action?
It is time to reframe the development discourse on conflict and fragility. A set of international objectives is needed that complements the MDGs to lead efforts to reduce conflict and fragility. But that is not enough. Making this happen will put the leadership, credibility and energies both of fragile countries and international actors to the test.
“Goodbye conflict, welcome development” was the slogan that the Timorese splashed all over Dili in 2010 to stimulate and celebrate the increasing stability, quality of governance and prospects of their country. It was not always so. The city saw waves of fighting and rioting as recently as 2006, which could only be resolved by another international intervention. This was four years after independence and seven years after the Timorese war for independence. It was once more made painfully clear that the citizens, leaders and international partners of countries emerging from conflict opr fragility, need to get fundamental issues such as inclusive politics and basic security sorted before they can have much hope of further development.The global challenge
This experience is by no means unique to Timor-Leste. The country rather reflects the more ‘benign’ tip of a proverbial iceberg. Today, about 30-40 countries worldwide find themselves in a situation of fragility and conflict. For instance, over 70% of all countries considered fragile (according to various indices) have experienced conflict since 1989. What is worse, these countries tend to stay fragile. The damage lasts or can recur easily: once conflict has occurred, the chance of relapse is high (estimated around 40-50%). More than 1.5 billion people are caught in conflict and poverty traps. The global cost of violent conflicts in an interdependent world, must be measured not only in the form of human suffering and physical destruction, but also organized crime and illicit financial flows. Fragility and conflict are development in reverse.The 2015 Milennium Development Goals (MDG) are the leading international policy response to underdevelopment. They embody our understanding of a more developed world with less hunger, more opportunities, better health and more knowledge. The trouble is that as a framework for focus and action, according to the World Bank, for instance, not a single Low Income Country that is fragile has realized any one of the MDGs so far.
The leading international policy response to violent insecurity is a range of more or less intrusive interventions (spanning mediation, sanctions and peace enforcement). Although the dramatic increase in the number of peacekeeping and peacemaking initiatives after 1990 has played a major role in reducing conflicts, their success rates are modest while the international community seems much less skilled at peacebuilding and statebuilding efforts, as several recent contributions in this forum have highlighted (for instance: Carpenter [7] on Sudan, Alaaldin [8] on Afghanistan and Muggah [9] on Haiti).
In the light of this widening disparity in security, quality of governance and wealth, conflict and fragility continue to represent a serious problem – impacting on the lives of millions every day. Is it therefore time, as Vernon and Baskh [10] have suggested,“to reframe the development discourse?”.
It is. In fact, for conflict and fragility there are two frames that need to be put in place. One is a set of objectives that complements the MDGs to lead efforts to reduce conflict and fragility, the other is a set of commitments on what needs to change in the way international and national actors currently do business in such settings. Creating these frames will put the leadership, credibility and energies both of fragile countries and international actors to the test.
International peacebuilding objectives
The High Level Forum on Aid Effectiveness in Busan (South-Korea), planned for November 2011, offers an opportunity to take a first step in establishing a set of peacebuilding and statebuilding objectives that can serve as a more effective and more relevant framework to guide (inter)national political focus, action and resources in addressing conflict and fragility.To realize this opportunity, about 150 leaders and representatives of donor organizations, multilaterals and around 15 fragile states (called the g7+, which includes e.g. Afghanistan, the Democratic Republic of the Congo, Nepal, Liberia and Timor-Leste), have recently taken a long and hard look at what matters most in these countries. In June they met in Monrovia to compare notes, at the second meeting of the International Dialogue on Peacebuilding and Statebuilding [11]. On the basis of their combined experiences and evidence, they argue that there are five priorities:
- Legitimate politics: Foster inclusive political settlements and conflict resolution. For instance, the comprehensive peace agreement (CPA) in Sudan and the national reconciliation accord (Taif agreement) in Lebanon once laid the hopeful foundations for a new political order.
- Security: Establish and strengthen citizen security. In places like Burundi and Liberia, ensuring security for citizens was a key factor in consolidating peace after years of war. Only with greater security do trade, farming and investment become worthwhile.
- Economic foundations: Generate employment and improve livelihoods. For instance, investment in economic growth helped Mozambique sustain peace after its conflict.
- Justice: Address injustices and support increasing citizen access to justice. Only because of a strong emphasis on addressing injustices and on reconciliation is Rwanda where it is today.
- Revenues and services: Manage revenues and build capacity for accountable and fair social service delivery.
Changing how we do business
Yet, a new set of international policy goals will not be enough. What is also in need of urgent change are the ways in which international and national partners do business to reduce conflict and fragility. A lot of work has been done recently (including by the World Bank, the International Dialogue on Peacebuilding and Statebuilding and the OECD) to identify key factors in the success or failure of international and national initiatives helping countries emerge from conflict. A challenging set of messages is emerging for aid actors, bilaterals, multilaterals and governments of fragile states alike, pointing as they do to a continuing gap between (inter)national policy and practice. They call for five major changes:First, get to grips with the context. Understanding sources of fragility and conflict, how state and society interact and what interests and incentives look like, is critical. It helps define core challenges, priorities and what sort of change is feasible. Donors in particular often do not have the time, patience or resources to do this. The typical programme assessment on the basis of which amounts in the order of 20 million Euro can be spent, takes about 3 weeks. In Monrovia, leaders endorsed nationally-led assessments of the features and degrees of fragility as a basis for national strategies and plans. Such assessment would need to be endorsed by national and international partners so that sufficient inclusiveness and buy-in can be secured.
Second, focus on what works. International actors need to stop transferring political and institutional models from rich to poor countries. Building a centralized state in Afghanistan after centuries of decentralized governance is, for instance, unlikely to work. National actors need to acknowledge and nurture local forms of governance and service provision where these are legitimate and effective.
Third, prioritize. Objectives must focus on political settlements, security, justice, economic growth and revenue management – and be limited in number. Successful transitions are those that have focused on two or three strategic objectives at any given time. In particular national governments need to increase space, leadership and support for inclusive political dialogue to develop a national vision, manage conflict peacefully and build confidence. Country-level agreements (or compacts) between a government and its international partners can define joint priorities, targets, measures of progress and ways to manage risks
Fourth, international engagement needs to be long-term to contribute meaningfully to results. The World Bank recently demonstrated that it can take a good 20-40 years to move from fragility to resilience. Support must be of equal duration on the basis of a political relationship of trust, negotiation and frank criticism. Donors must stop flicking the on/off switch of aid when the next corruption scandal emerges. A more nuanced approach, and response, are needed. Clearly, partners in fragile states need to help make this possible through the quality of their leadership, policies and implementation.
Fifth, the global dimension of conflict and fragility must be better taken into account. Countries do not develop in isolation but face global opportunities and stresses. Competing objectives between international trade, development and security policies have a price that needs to be acknowledged. Fragile or ungoverned spaces can enable forces that operate with a global and violent agenda.
Implementation
Implementing such responses will require leadership, rigour and courage. Three challenges stand out:To start with, how can donors and multilaterals muster the resolve and leadership to gradually address this change agenda in the face of the current economic downturn and climate of populism in some countries? It will need courageous leaders with resolve to engage in domestic debate with parliaments and internationally with development partners. Fragile states must play their part as long-term commitments cannot come for free or without principles of partnership.
Second, how can g7+ countries build the capacity and vision in their often fragmented societies with fractured institutions? International partners can help with programmes, funds and expertise, but the direction and the drive need to come from within. The challenge (and opportunity) for the g7+ is to demonstrate it can give a common international voice to fragile states, and also support action for implementation.
Finally, practical implementation requires seasoned change agents, managers and leaders that want to work for feasible solutions. Details will matter more than rhetoric. Procurement and financial processes will need to change, new actors need to be involved and difficult, concrete discussions need to take place on risk, results and accountability. Implementation will also need a framework of joint accountability that is detailed, practical and that sets out the consequences of non-adherence.
In short, progress is being made to improve the international response to conflict and fragility. Yet it is only a promising beginning, as in Timor-Leste. With its increased security, stability and employment, it can cautiously start thinking about how to improve education, healthcare and how to further boost its economy and governance. If it is also bravely helping to lead the efforts of this international dialogue, this is to avoid others having to go through similar traumas.
Friday, June 17, 2011
Op-Eds/Articles / Arab Politics
Democracy Uprisings Should Herald a New Dawn of Education Reform
As 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.
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
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.
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.
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