Awakening, Cataclysm, or Just a Series of Events? Reflections on the Current Wave of Protest in the Arab World

Perhaps the best starting point for understanding the current remarkable wave of protest spreading across the Arab world, would be to examine the nomenclature used to describe or frame it.   To some observers it is seen as a ‘cataclysm.’ Others speak of the ‘contagion effect’. Still others might see it as simply a series of (fortunate or unfortunate) events not significantly related to each other. The terminology we use influences the conclusions we draw. We can see this if we juxtapose this Western branding which invokes undesirable images with the terms used by many commentators in the Arab world such as a ‘blossoming’ or ‘renaissance.’   What are these movements: a ‘disease’ or a ‘cure’? Are they monolithic or locally distinct? Is the outbreak of one protest related to, or caused by another? Finally, are the various Arab countries (and must they be only Arab?[1]) equally ‘susceptible’ to the contagion?

What’s In a Name?

As the aftershocks of regime change in Tunisia and Egypt reverberate throughout the Arab world and beyond, political analysts are struggling to define what is going on. They point to the varying degrees of popular protest in almost every Arab country, including Libya, Yemen, Bahrain, Syria, Oman, Mauritania, Morocco, Algeria, Jordan, Sudan, the Palestinian Authority, Iraq, and Saudi Arabia.

Surveying the flood of analysis, one notices that commentators from outside the region are frequently writing about what they call ‘the contagion effect;’ others are asking whether we are seeing an ‘epidemic’ of popular protest and revolution. In the more Realpolitik policy circles some speak of “cataclysm” and forecast grim consequences for the regional and global status quo.  With no disrespect intended to the Japanese who are suffering a human catastrophe, I have heard the Arab upheavals described as a ‘tsunami’. But many commentators of liberal disposition in the Arab world and the west use very different nomenclature: they may speak of ‘a new dawn,’ ‘a blossoming’, even a ‘renaissance’ of democracy, freedom, and good governance.

The terminology we use often influences the conclusions we reach. The dictionary defines a ‘contagion’ as ‘the spreading of a harmful idea or practice.’ An ‘epidemic” is “a sudden, widespread occurrence of a particular undesirable phenomenon.” On the other hand, ‘blossoming’ means “to mature or develop in a promising or healthy way” and ‘renaissance’ in its broad sense refers to “a revival or a renewed interest in something”, and their Arabic equivalents—ba’th and nahda—mean “awakening, renewal, reemergence, rebirth.”

Historical Perspective

In 1938 the Palestinian-British intellectual George Antonius published his famous book The Arab Awakening. It described the nahda—the Arab literary and cultural renaissance of the nineteenth century—and the development of organized groups in an emerging modern and civil society in the early twentieth century. While the term “awakening” to some connotes a kind of benign Orientalism—it took Westernization to rouse these people from their long slumber—one might yet claim that this “awakening” was the emergence of a new national self-consciousness that would lay the groundwork for the populist Arab unity movement that rocked the Arab world in the 1950s and 1960s.

The original nahda was about constructing a collective identity and community. But what is the “awakening” of the present about? I don’t yet have a clear answer. It does appear, however, that the thrust of today’s wave of protest is less about identity than it is about authority. In every case the discourse is challenging the legitimacy of the rulers and/or ruling elites and objecting to their arbitrary, unaccountable, corrupt and often brutal behavior.  And yet is there not something about the powerful “contagion effect” that suggests that some kind of latent identity politics—a tacit understanding that “we are all in the same boat”—is also in play?

The story of how the struggle for Arab national independence and unity was derailed into a system of segmented authoritarianisms is well known. Arab nationalist aspirations were cut short by the colonialist interventions after World War I. The map of the old mostly Ottoman-dominated Arab world was redrawn. Instead of a unified Arab state constructed along liberal and constitutional lines, the pre-existing colonial creations became independent and took on an authoritarian character of their own. The “progressives”, led most famously by Egypt’s Gamal Abdel Nasser and the Ba’th Party pursued the dream of Arab unity, liberation, and socialism (wahda, hurriyya, and ishtirakiyya) through the modalities of a military-dominated single-party “republicanism”. The “conservatives,” mainly traditional monarchies (some of them oil-rich) preferred paternalism, capitalism and protection from the West. Their legitimacy rested on their claims to represent authentic cultural traditions and Islamic rectitude. But they were no less authoritarian than their “republican” counterparts.

This state of affairs has lasted for half a century. Political scientists specializing on the Middle East might be forgiven, then, for focusing on why authoritarianism has been so persistent. They came up with multiple explanations, among them the following:

• The mukhabarat state. Whether republican or patrimonial, Arab regimes were able to build up formidable bureaucracies of control: intelligence agencies, multiple police forces, paramilitary organizations, and of course the military establishment. People obeyed because they were afraid.
• ”Deferential” Arab political culture. Although this argument is almost universally rejected by serious social scientists, it still enjoys wide currency in Western policy circles, public opinion, and even among many people in the Middle East. It holds that authoritarian rule “fits” the political culture because that culture privileges the elites over the masses (the khassa over the ‘amma) and because people are socialized from earliest childhood to defer to patriarchal authority. Islam, it is said, also counsels obedience even to a bad ruler over the worse alternative of fitna or chaos.
• Western domination. By this argument the colonial period put in place the structures and habits of authoritarianism that would outlast the colonial period itself. Moreover, the post-colonial period itself was marked by significant manipulation of local politics by the new global hegemons—the Soviet Union, and then, solely, the United States. Through economic and military assistance, intelligence cooperation, and diplomatic support the United States propped up friendly authoritarian regimes for reasons of Realpolitik and especially because it feared the anti-American tendencies in Arab public opinion. That condition, of course, was due primarily to America’s support for Israel and its occupation of Palestinian territory. To this very day American politicians and officials debate whether the U.S. should support friendly dictators or take its chances with emerging (but possibly unstable) democratic forces.

Prospects for Democratization

Not all social scientists were convinced that persistent authoritarianism would be a permanent condition for the Arab world. Some analysts (and I was one of them) were arguing as long ago as the late 1980s that democratization could occur and, indeed, that it would ease the tensions that the region is known for and advance its prosperity. And indeed there were some indications that the political arenas might be opening up. Scholars noted a significant proliferation of civil society organizations. At the end of the 1980s and early 1990s there were significant—but all too brief—movements for democratization (or at least liberalization) in Algeria, Jordan, Yemen, and Egypt, and for a return to a kind of democracy in Kuwait, and Lebanon.

But these signs proved to be premature.   More “realistic” scholars labeled those who thought democracy was coming to the Arab world as “demo-crazy.”[2] And others observed that the structures supporting authoritarianism were not only deeply rooted but capable of adaptation to modern conditions—thus keeping ahead of the developing societal forces. For example, it was said that while civil society was benefiting from new information technologies regimes could also turn these instruments to their own advantage to enhance their surveillance capabilities.

Today’s Wave of Protest

We now come to the events that began in December 2010. Nobody, to my knowledge, predicted that the self-immolation of Muhammad Bouazzizi would set in motion the wave of upheavals that we are witnessing today. It is not that political scientists were unaware of the theoretical destabilizing effects of mediocre economic growth, increasing income inequality, the demographic “youth bulge,” high unemployment, inadequate educational infrastructure, bureaucratic inefficiency, and—above all—corruption. But most of us assumed that the collective “mind-set” (if you will) of the public in the Arab countries was not attuned to these issues and far from being mobilizable for action to deal with them. It seems we were wrong.

What Antonius and those analysts who came afterwards were describing was what Benedict Anderson would later theorize as an “imagined community.” What would today’s social movement theorists have to say about the Arab protest wave?  They might seek to depict the collective re-“framing” of the Arab political landscape, prioritizing the values of dignity, participation and democracy. What we are seeing is a collective change of mood—away from grudging and passive acceptance of the authoritarian political order and toward an active questioning of its legitimacy. They might help us understand how political opportunity structures made the impossible possible. They might help us conceptualize “movements” and their interactive relationship with repressive states.

The Story So Far

Let us summarize what has happened so far. We begin with Egypt and Tunisia, the only two cases so far in which the protests led to the deposing of the authoritarian head of state. In Tunisia, the self-immolation and death of Muhammad Bouazzizi on 17-18 December led to things never before seen in Ben Ali’s Tunisia: nationwide protest and the occupation of public spaces, which led to the defection of the army, the erosion of Ben Ali’s trusted security forces, and finally the departure of the leader himself.  Death toll estimate: 147.  In Egypt, after a series of massive protest gatherings in Tahrir Square in Cairo and in other Egyptian cities, President Mubarak, who had been defiant to the last minute, stepped down on 11 February, probably at the behest of the Armed Forces command, and Egypt has embarked on a process of constitutional and electoral reform. Over 800 people were killed and over 6,000 wounded.

A second group of countries have and are continuing to experience significant protest and casualties; regimes, though challenged, are still very much in place. They include Libya, where protesters have been waging an inconclusive, see-saw war with the Qadhafi regime since mid-February, with limited air support from the U.S. and NATO. So far there have been an estimated 10,000 deaths; the U.N. estimates that some 335,000 people have fled, including at least 200,000 non-Libyans. In Yemen a series of large mass protests starting on 18 January has continued, gaining momentum up to the present. The protests have turned bloody, with at least 290 demonstrators being killed by government forces as of early May. A series of concessions offered by President Ali Abdallah Salih and a mediation effort by the Gulf Cooperation Council seems not to have stemmed the unrest. *In Bahrain, where I happened to be at the time of the crackdown, the government initially oscillated between conciliatory positions as articulated by the Crown Prince and a hard-line approach which led to the death of seven protesters in the Lulu roundabout on February 14. But then the authorities decided on a policy of total repression. It invited armed forces from Saudi Arabia and the UAE (part of the Gulf Cooperation Council’s “Peninsula Shield” force) to help it crush the ongoing protests, and they did so on March 16. There have been some 36 deaths to date, amid a continuing wave of arrests. Bahrain today remains deeply divided. Much of the population, especially in the Shi’ite villages, remains sullen. And in Syria one of the bloodiest confrontations is still under way: minor demonstration on 26 January were violently dispersed by the mukhabarat (one person was killed), and a number of political activists were arrested. Some thought that nothing more would happen, because President Bashar al-Assad seemed to enjoy some popularity because of Syria’s “nationalist” stands; but this proved not to be the case.  Syria had been relatively untouched by protest, but on 18 March there began a series of large demonstrations in Deraa which were met with deadly force, and protests spread to several other cities including Banias and Homs. By early May there were an estimated 800 or more deaths.

Other Arab countries have also experienced unusual public protests, though not on the scale of the countries just mentioned. To the surprise of many observers, Oman has seen unrest on a limited scale. Starting on 17 January there was an unusual and significant labor protest in the industrial port of Sohar. In that and a subsequent demonstration two protesters were killed by government forces. Sultan Qaboos, although not the target of the demonstrations, moved quickly to dismiss half of his cabinet and offer economic concessions; but demonstrations continue. In Algeria, where protests began on 28 December and have continued sporadically. In Jordan protests have been directed (thus far) to the government and not to the King; but the King has been sufficiently concerned to replace his prime minister and offer minor economic concessions.  In Mauritania on 17 January there was a self-immolation and protests. In Sudan on 17 January there were demonstrations sufficiently strong to persuade President Al-Bashir not to seek another term in 2015. In Iraq there was an outburst of protest in late February against poor government services, though not against the regime itself; 29 peoople died and 300 were detained. Since then regular but smaller demonstrations have continued in several provinces, with particular force in the Kurdish region.  One Iraqi commentator complained that the news media have been ignoring the Iraqi protests compared to the attention given to other Arab countries. Prime Minister Maliki promised to crack down on corruption, firing provincial officials, and also said he would not run for another term. In Kuwait there have been demonstrations by and on behalf of the “bidoons”—people without citizenship.

In Morocco in February thousands of protesters took to the streets demanding constitutional changes but not attacking the monarchy. King Muhammad VI has promised “to continue to make structural reforms” and created an Economic and Social Council to advise him on economic recovery. In Lebanon, a perennially tense standoff between the opposition “March 8” and “March 14” coalitions had led to demonstrations, focusing on the role of Hizballah as an armed militia. These protests do not seem linked to the larger wave of protests in the region; however there was a small demonstration protesting Lebanon’s institutionalized confessionalism, which does seem linked. Similarly, *In the Palestinian territories, like Lebanon, the particularities of the local political environment have largely diverted attention from the demands for good governance sweeping the Arab world. In the UAE, while there have been no public protests, there has been a petition from intellectuals to President Shakyh Khalifa bin Zayed Al-Nahyan for free and democratic elections, including a comprehensive reform of the Federal National Council, free elections with universal suffrage for all citizens, a reform of legislation governing the work of the FNC and necessary constitutional amendments. The UAE authorities have arrested at least one blogger and imposed certain curbs on media expression. Finally, we have the case of Saudi Arabia. While the monarchy seems not to be directly targeted, there has been a series of small but concentrated protest demonstrations in Qatif, and there have been calls on Facebook for further protests. Protesters’ demands include the release of political prisoners. The government has responded harshly, forbidding public demonstrations, and King Abdallah, instead of offering reforms, has announced an enlargement of the security forces and the release of billions of dollars for public assistance.

Some Tentative Conclusions

This survey, which has sought to place the recent events in historical and theoretical context, raises at least five questions about the apparent ripple effect we are seeing across the region:

• First, is it like a “disease” or a “cure?”  Obviously it depends on where you stand. But names do matter. To label a phenomenon in a subjective, let alone pejorative, way invites faulty analysis: one need look no farther than “the war on terror” for a good example. If you are analyzing a “contagion” you are tempted not just to study what it is but to find ways to eradicate it. At the same time it serves little purpose to romanticize the “awakening.” But we are social scientists, not epidemiologists. For better or for worse, the wave suggests to me that political legitimacy has emerged as the fundamental issue—more important than economic grievances, foreign interference, religious agendas or even Israel. This is not to say that these matters do not play an important contributory role in the current upheaval. But the main issue seems to me to be a questioning of the right of ruling establishments to govern. “Why should we obey you?” people are asking. “Because you always have” doesn’t seem any longer to be a satisfactory answer.
• Second, is it a coherent, monolithic “thing”? Is it singular or plural? Is it an organic region-wide movement or just a series of incidents that happened to occur roughly at the same time? Here we have to be careful.   Only a careful study of the message and the composition of the protesters can tell us. But we do see common threads in the message. It seems to be all about governance: a demand for meaningful popular participation, the condemnation of authoritarianism and corruption, the call for better governance, and a demand for social and economic development. There is also a “negative” similarity: we do not hear demands for an Islamic polity, nor, for that matter, for Arab unity. So while protesters focus on particular rulers regimes and local situations, there are these broad similar themes being expressed across the board.
• Third, on the reasonable assumption that these protests are causally linked, how do we account for it?. I would argue that the role of satellite television and social media as a “force multiplier” is crucial. There is plenty of anecdotal evidence that protesters are communicating and collaborating across borders. Al-Jazeera Arabic, with an estimated 40 million-plus viewers, has provided an unprecedented platform for viewing the protest drama. Even if it is beginning to pull its punches on coverage of arenas considered sensitive by the Gulf rulers its effect should not be underestimated. On Facebook and Twitter protesters in Yemen, Bahrain, Libya, Syria, and no doubt in the salons of Saudi Arabia, are saying, “We celebrate and support the protesters of Tunis and Egypt; they have broken “the wall of fear” and we would like to see something similar (but not necessarily identical) happen in our countries.”
• Fourth, are the various Arab countries equally “susceptible” to “infection” by the “virus”? Here the answer is “probably not.” As Gretchen Head has pointed out in the case of Morocco, protesters there are not targeting the king and don’t necessarily want a complete change of political system. Ziad Abu-Rish has made a similar point about Jordan, where the monarch (so far) seems insulated from the anger of the “street.” And, incidentally, we should be careful in assuming that “the Arab street” is a homogenous entity, similar across the Arab world. Again, with due apology for the pejorative metaphor, we might observe that so far the two most effective “vaccines” for the “democratic contagion” are (1) riches (the rentier effect) and (2) legitimacy of the political system as a whole. But with respect to the rentier effect one must note that it has not completely immunized the ruling establishments of the GCC (viz., Bahrain, Oman, Saudi Arabia) . In terms of the legitimacy factor, leaders who enjoy some moral or political authority, based on their perceived heritage or their policies (viz., Morocco, Jordan) may ride out the current epidemic of protest. But for the others, they may not be sleeping so well. They may be reminded of the autobiography of one of the more successful Arab rulers, King Hussein of Jordan: “Uneasy Lies the Head.”
• Fifth, what happens to the “wave” when the protesters meet the tanks? It will soon be a half-year since the first protests broke out. The speedy and decisive outcomes in Tunisia and Egypt have not been replicated elsewhere. Now we have to consider that protests may follow different trajectories and different places. Waves washing up on beaches may quickly erode sand castles, but what of waves crashing against rocks? In Bahrain a swift and relentless crackdown broke the protests, although the story is far from over. In Libya, Yemen and Syria the outcome may ultimately depend on which side has the greater endurance. Mass protests probably cannot be sustained indefinitely without developing mobilization structures and resources. To what extent is this happening in these countries? On the regime side, how long can the ruling elites afford to maintain thousands of security forces and equipment in combat mode? And how long can they maintain their moral cohesion as innocent citizens die?  In some cases the outcome is win or lose. In others, where the momentum of protest is less intense and the regime response more flexible perhaps one can expect a “no victor-no vanquished” trajectory. But rulers who are paranoid about mass political action and followers who are utterly unconvinced that “reform from above” is anything more than a charade will make negotiations very difficult. In such cases, perhaps we should expect the enormous popular energy first manifested in mass peaceful protest to be transformed into armed attacks and low-level guerrilla warfare. Simultaneously the initial democracy discourse might be transformed into more radical ideological formulas. The besieged rulers of Libya, Yemen, Syria, and Bahrain unconvincingly claim that they are a bulwark against religious or sectarian extremists, but as time goes on and conflict smolders it would be alarming if these claims turned into a self-confirming prophecy.

The Challenge to Middle East Analysts

The surprising demise of authoritarian rulers in Tunisia and Egypt and the sustained wave of popular protest that has shaken regimes in Libya, Yemen, Bahrain, and Syria (not to mention the tremors that have occurred in Morocco, Jordan and Oman) requires political scientists and other analysts to reexamine some of the conventional wisdom about Arab and Middle East politics. (1) The “durability of authoritarianism”. How valid now is the argument that mukhabarat states can keep several steps ahead of societal opposition through better access to and use of new technologies of information and repression? (2) Democratization is an inappropriate goal and impossible to achieve in the Arab world. Were the so-called “demo-crazy” analysts really so blinded by their presumed liberal preferences? (3); Populations are passive—anaesthetized by the opium of the rentier state or bowed down by the burdens of daily life or cowed by fear of the mukhabarat. How then to explain the extraordinary massive popular protests? (4) Arab nationalism is dead; people are reverting to their primordial affiliations. But how then to explain the so-called “contagion effect” of the Tunisian and Egyptian upheavals? Facebook alone did not cause them. And (5) the Middle East regional system is essentially stable; states still are the prime units; the regional balance of power is stable; and the system is still encased in American hegemony. But how then to explain the strategic setback suffered by the United States and Washington’s apparent inability to manipulate the new situation.

Quite a lot of analytical attention has been devoted to the instruments of state authoritarianism, but not enough has been paid to the strength and durability of the protest movements. It would seem that a combination of factors--group-think, theoretical tunnel vision, ideological agendas, insufficient attention to the work of Arab intellectuals, and a lack of multidisciplinary approaches —help account for the difficulties. Is it not time for a rethinking of categories such as state (failed or otherwise), regime (rogue or otherwise), nation, society (civil or otherwise) and leadership. And must we not emphasize the importance of new media and information technologies in clarifying (and energizing) the Arab “imagined community?”

Yes, it does matter what we call it—contagion, epidemic, awakening, blossoming, dawning, commencement, renaissance and the like. But what matters even more is what it is.  Shakespeare put it most famously: “What's in a name? that which we call a rose 
By any other name would smell as sweet” .   To my mind the fragrance of jasmine, lotus, and—yes—roses is wafting across the Arab world. 

 

An earlier version of this paper was presented to the UAE Ministry of Foreign Affairs Department of Research and Analysis Monthly Seminar, Abu Dhabi, March 21, 2011. I would like to thank Rana Khoury and Faeza Abdurazak for advice and assistance.