Minorities and the State in the Arab World

Ofra Bengio and Gabriel Ben-Dor (eds.)

Lynne Rienner Publishers, Inc.

1999

10. The State and Minorities Toward the Twenty-first Century: An Overview
Gabriel Ben-Dor and Ofra Bengio

 

The main conclusions to be drawn from the study of minorities in the Arab world revolve around several salient and recurrent themes in the various case studies: democratization, centralization, federalism, leadership, and the search for unifying national themes and motifs.

When assessing majority-minority relations, it is important to note that the concept of a minority is intimately related to one’s definition of a majority. In other words, because there are different kinds of majorities, there are different kinds of minorities. Furthermore, it is evident from the cases analyzed that a complex process of transformation turns a more or less objective social structure into a political concept of majority and minority. The conditions and circumstances of this process differ substantially from country to country, as the various chapters in this volume demonstrate.

In some cases, such as that of the Kurds in Iraq, the minorities are Muslims but not Arabs. In other cases, such as that of the ‘Alawis in Syria, they are Arabs but not Muslims. In the extreme case of the Sudan they are neither Arabs nor Muslims; there, reinforcing cleavages inevitably exacerbate ethnic tensions. These different patterns lead to divergences in the fundamental quest for political orientation.

When the minority is Arab but not Muslim, the natural tendency is to seek themes of Arab nationalism in order to stress the common denominator. When this is not feasible, or when it is not fashionable, themes of one-country patriotism-nationalism come in handy instead; this can be seen in Egypt, which has a large minority of Christian Copts who are unquestionably Egyptians and are as Arab as other Egyptians. This makes for a particular patriotic and nationalistic fervor, which at times denies the uniqueness of the minority; the minority is referred to merely as a group within the society, as a community within the family of the nation.

Things are different when the minority is Muslim but not Arab, as with the Kurds in Iraq and the Berbers in Algeria. In such cases, logic would dictate an appeal to the Islamic character of the state in order to emphasize the factor that holds the people together at the expense of that which separates them. Things are not so simple, however, because those Islamic themes are not always available. In Algeria they are not available because of the massive, violent confrontation between the incumbent regime and militant Islamic movements. They might also be unavailable because of the process of secularization, which has affected broad strata of Algerian society and makes emphasis of Islamic motifs either unappealing or self-destructive. Given this difficult set of constraints, the regime cannot appeal to Islam as the unifying factor in the country. Obviously, Arab nationalism is neither feasible nor available; therefore, an appeal must be made to local Algerian nationalism.

The situation of the Egyptian Copts is somewhat similar to that of the Algerian Berbers. In general, it seems that the Berbers are at a stage of consciousness reminiscent of an earlier stage in the political evolution of the Coptic minority in Egypt. It remains to be seen how long the low level of political assertiveness among the Berbers will remain as calm and passive as it is at present. The answer, of course, depends partly on the political fortunes of the country at large. Clearly, the violence and confrontation of the late 1990s has increased the politicization of all groups in society, while possibly stifling temporarily all cleavages in Algerian society other than the overwhelming one between the secular regime and the Islamic opposition.

The pattern in Lebanon, which pits the Maronite Christians against various Muslim factions and the Druze, is unclear. No group has a clear majority, and for that reason the definition of minorities is always somewhat hazy. All groups are minorities in the sense that they are not numerical majorities at the moment, nor can they hope to be in the foreseeable future. Furthermore, there are no natural or permanent ethnic arrangements in Lebanon that could regulate intergroup relations in a stable manner so as to create an enduring majority in the political as much as the demographic sense of the term. The concept of Muslims, for example, is not strong enough as a unifying factor, because of the complex and ever-changing differences between the Shi‘is, who are the largest group; the Sunnis, who are the more powerful one; and the Druze, who are not strictly Muslims but are traditionally quite hostile to the Maronite Christians. These differences do not allow for the emergence of the secure feeling associated with a stable majority.

In Sudan, we witness the extreme case of a conflict between the clear majority, which is Arab, Muslim, and territorially concentrated in the north, and the non-Arab, non-Muslim south. Not surprisingly, the conflict there—due to these reinforcing cleavages, which are among the most severe in any Arab country—has been particularly violent, involving a bloody civil war that has lasted for many years and is still far from being resolved. The government cannot easily appeal to a unifying set of principles, because the Arab and Islamic themes are nonexistent and others are hard to find. The national Sudanese slogans are not very credible because the ruling regime is so closely identified with Islamic fundamentalism and because the entire concept of a Sudanese nation is unclear. The differences between the groups make Sudan a mere geographic unit, more than a meaningful political center of gravity in the people’s consciousness.

The intra-Islamic pattern seems less intractable but is in fact very difficult to handle in the constraints of the rough and tumble of realpolitik. The case of Bahrain, analyzed in this volume, is a purely Shi‘i-Sunni affair. There is also a Shi‘i-Sunni cleavage of great significance in Iraq (in addition to the formidable Kurdish issue). Such a set of cleavages also exists within the Muslim “majority” in Lebanon, and similar examples can be found elsewhere in the Arab world, where, due to the Iranian revolution and its ramifications, the increasing political consciousness of the Shi‘is is gradually finding concrete political manifestation.

In Bahrain there is a clear Shi‘i majority, yet power is exclusively in the hands of the Sunni elite; this is also the case in Iraq. It is not just a question of who is in power, however; it also has to do with the social bases of that power. Clearly, the intra-Islamic cleavage coincides with a social one. The Shi‘is are the lower classes, the working classes, those elements in society that have less of what there is to have: wealth, education, prestige. As we know from general theory, such situations are bound to be explosive, always containing within them the revolutionary potential of violent and drastic change once the underdog’s consciousness reaches a critical threshold of activism and despair.

The analysis of Bahrain in this volume indicates that the options of the ruling elite are quite limited. The lessons of the past seem to indicate that the old strategies of muddling through and buying off the opposition by making relatively inexpensive and politically insignificant gestures are not likely to work in the future. The choice seems to be reform or revolution: ₁   either there will be structural changes in the system to allow for massive improvement in the Shi‘is’ ability to participate in the political process and thereby to improve their social and economic standing, or there will be a violent explosion that might blow the entire system apart. This is an important conclusion, one that logically derives from the intersection of socioeconomic and ethnic cleavages, even if the latter are strictly intra-Islamic.

In the future, when Iraq returns to a more normal pattern of politics as the international embargo is lifted and some of the more pressing regional animosities are resolved, there may be a similar potential for drastic action in Iraq, too. For the time being, this is not likely to happen, because the Kurdish and international issues divert attention from the main cleavage in the country, while the regime’s stranglehold on political life disguises many of the main currents of potential activism. Yet that, too, may change in the not-too-distant future (such has been the general trend in the region), and when it does, some of the tensions seen in Bahrain might be echoed in the large country to the north.

The Jordanian case is even more difficult to characterize and to fit into any logical typology. The principal cleavage there pits Arab Sunni Muslims against each other, on a basis that is more national than ethnic. The Palestinians and Jordanians in the kingdom have no need to resort to the usual myths and legends of ethnicity, nor to the more complicated anthropological features of cultural differentiation. The differences between them are real enough, and their direct and immediate political implications have been observable in the country’s recent history.

This looks almost like one of the most classic political divides known to the human race, that between two nations inhabiting a single piece of land, ironically not entirely unlike the picture west of the Jordan River. As the analysis in this volume clearly indicates, the solution to the problems of the Palestinians in Jordan may have to do with the fate of the Palestinians in the West Bank and Gaza. Nevertheless, it does not depend entirely on the outcome of that process, nor does an acceptable solution to the problems of the Palestinians elsewhere guarantee a solution to their problems in Jordan. In the past it was expected that the Palestinians would be gradually integrated into the Jordanian mainstream to produce a single nation in the realm. Evidently, this has not yet happened, and the process might take a very long time.

However, the case of Jordan demonstrates the importance of two political processes that are critically important to the future resolution of the problems of minorities in the Arab world: democratization and devolution (or federalism). In the past, numerous proposals were put forth for some form of federal future for Jordan. Initially, these proposals were made while the West Bank was still entirely under Israeli control, with no prospect of a negotiated Israeli-Palestinian settlement in the offing. The proposals came from Jordan as well as from Israel, with the idea of stabilizing the future solution to the problem of the West Bank and integrating it somehow with the larger political unit that is Jordan, while at the same time maintaining its unique Palestinian character.

Indeed, the theory of federalism admits that at times federalism is precisely the art of having one’s cake and eating it, too. ₂   A federal solution can provide a large degree of political satisfaction for the ethnic or national group in question, while tying it to another political entity in a relationship that is less than total independence. Federal arrangements exist with various degrees of symmetry between the subentities involved. There are numerous examples of such federal arrangements around the world, many of them involving complex, delicate, and creative relationships between ethnic and national majorities and minorities.

Some such device seems urgently needed in various parts of the Middle East. Observers of Sudan have pointed time and again to the need for a solution that would link the two rival regions in a federal framework, maintaining a reasonably strong and effective central government while offering a large degree of autonomy to the south, thereby satisfying as many of its demands as possible without blowing apart the national framework of the state. The same rationale has been used to suggest seemingly reasonable solutions to the problems of Iraq and Lebanon, and most frequently and prominently in the Palestinian context. However, none of these has worked so far.

Elsewhere, we have argued that the federal idea has not been popular in the Arab world, and that in fact it has never worked there at all, with the important exception of the United Arab Emirates, which has not played a central role in Arab politics. ₃   In general, federal ideas have worked better in the more developed parts of the world, whereas in the so-called Third World their record has been less impressive, albeit with notable exceptions, such as India.

The reasons why federalism is not popular in Arab politics are not too difficult to comprehend, but what is important is to assess trends for the future and the potential for change. Arab political history has made it logical that Arab political thought should put a premium on unity and the oneness of the nation, which once inhabited a single, large Arab homeland and more recently on unity within the boundaries of each individual Arab country. In any case, the history of struggling against the perceived political, economic, military, and cultural encroachment of an aggressive and dynamic West made it necessary to concentrate resources on the struggle to maintain the independence and integrity of the nation, not on catering to the needs of the constituent parts. Thus, the leading trend in nationalist thought, which carried over to routine politics, was that of unity and not the delegation of authority.

Some of the ideological tension of the struggle against imperialism and Zionism has abated, but much of it still exists. Some of the tension has been carried over into the realm of inter-Arab politics and via that channel into local political systems, at times with ideological claims undermining the legitimacy of ruling regimes and states. ₄   This, too, was more characteristic of earlier periods than it is today, but the fears, suspicions, and apprehensions generated in the process still persist.

An important factor militating against the tolerance and pluralism associated with federal politics has been the nature of most regimes in the Middle East. In the vast majority of cases, Arab regimes have faced serious challenges to their legitimacy because they captured power through the use or threat of force and have used coercion to keep themselves in power, at the expense of such legitimizing processes as free elections with mass participation. Such regimes find it difficult to delegate power to other elements in the country or to share it with them, and sharing power on a regional basis is the very foundation of federalism. True, many of the regimes have been in power for so long that they have managed to increase their legitimacy and to do away with serious challenges to their existence, but this has been a protracted and painful process. The memories and traumas created en route are certainly not conducive to power sharing, without which there cannot be any prospect for federal solutions to political problems.

In the course of the past two generations, a fairly large degree of political stability has finally been achieved. This stability has to do with the ability of ruling regimes to eliminate the opposition and to enhance their rule by developing and refining various governmental technologies. ₅   In this they have been brilliantly successful. However, the stability created in this difficult process is of a formal nature, which means that regimes endure for longer periods of time because they are good at manipulation and coercion, not because the challenges to their legitimacy have disappeared. As long as this is the case, willingness to devolve, delegate, and share power is understandably limited.

During this period of political development, the overwhelming strength of the Arab state has been evident. Elsewhere, we have analyzed in detail the thesis that the state is the most important structure in Middle Eastern politics and that all challenges from the realms of pan-Arab nationalism, socialist ideologies, and Islamic fundamentalism have been beaten back successfully. ₆   According to this thesis, the state has been the most successful import from the West with respect to political ideas and structures. It has struck deep roots in the political soil of the Middle East at a time when other political imports, such as democratic ideals and federal structures, have met with little enthusiasm.

The strength of the Arab state is also evident from the analyses of the cases studied in this volume. The ethnic challenge to the state has been extraordinarily strong, but in no case has the state succumbed. This is true even in the most extreme cases surveyed here. Sudan has been torn apart by a lengthy civil war, yet the Sudanese state has remained intact. Lebanon still exists, despite contending ethnic claims, the lack of a majority, the massive presence of the Syrians, and the Israeli “security zone” in the south. ₇   The Iraqi regime has been challenged significantly not only by the Kurds but also by the emerging threat of a Shi‘i majority and prolonged international sanctions. Yet the Iraqi state seems to be as potent as ever. Thus, the analysis in this volume lends credence to the thesis that there is a combination of domestic political circumstances, regional and international conditions, and considerations of improved governmental technology (such as control of intelligence and security services) that allows states in the Middle East to overcome even the harshest and most blatant challenges.

This fact of political life—the strength of the Arab state—might help control and perhaps even resolve ethnic and minority problems. Scholars have at times failed to notice that power in poorly integrated and institutionalized political systems is not something to be had but something to be created through a good deal of effort. In other words, in highly developed political systems where there are numerous political institutions and where political power is organized according to accepted traditions and structure, it makes sense to speak of devolving power, because power has been there long enough to be recognized by everyone, because it is salient enough not to be questioned, and because it is centralized enough to beg for decentralization. In such cases, federal solutions to the problems of minorities and ethnic groups make sense.

This is not necessarily the case in less developed systems, where power is not always visible, where traditions and legacies of having and exercising power are by no means universally accepted, and where the problem of power in general is that there is too little of it. ₈   This is true notwithstanding all the pomp and display of power by various dictators and juntas that control governments in such countries. They frequently put on shows aimed at impressing their constituencies with their control and power, but they do so precisely because they feel insecure. The show is often but a poor substitute for the real thing, which is the ability to exercise power in an orderly institutional framework, and where the need to resort to the use or threat of force is minimal.

For such juntas and dictators to devolve power to regions and groups would approximate political suicide, because it would fragment the little power that they do have. ₉   However, once such systems have enjoyed a relatively long period of stability and have demonstrated their ability to survive challenges from the opposition, thoughts of giving up some power can be more seriously entertained. ₁₀   In such cases, possible federal solutions begin to make sense.

One major payoff of a comparative analysis should be the ability to come up with lessons to be learned from the various strategies adopted by regimes to deal with the problems of minorities. The analysis presented here may not allow for profound comparison because of the authors’ different perspectives. Even so, it seems worth trying to make a tentative list of strategic choices and decisions that will reflect some of the basic convictions of these regimes regarding the problem of minorities and ethnic groups, as well as their overall posture toward national politics.

First, in the vast majority of cases, Arab regimes seem only to consider minorities and ethnic groups a problem. While one can argue that diversity of groups in a country enriches its culture and society, in practice Arab regimes tend to emphasize themes of national unity, and any tendency that has diversity and variety as its point of departure is suspect at best. This line of thinking is also manifest in the terminology used, as regimes try to speak of communities and groups rather than minorities. This is best demonstrated in the case of Egypt (which is relatively tolerant as far as Arab regimes go), where no effort is spared to prevent the discourse on the Copts from treating them as a minority, that is, as a different group opposed to the mainstream or the majority. The Egyptian regime works instead to build a picture of a society that is basically unified around its fundamental political characteristics, having only a certain diversity in terms of subgroups.

In some countries, however, it is simply not possible to pretend that society has any basic unity; in Lebanon, for instance, ethnicity is by far the most dominant variable in politics. However, Lebanon is no longer free to express this openly because of the Syrian dominance of much of its territory. Interestingly, some observers suggest that one major reason for Syria’s continued involvement in Lebanese affairs is the fear that ethnic disintegration in Lebanon might spill over to neighboring Syria.

The point of departure, therefore, is Arab regimes’ fear of ethnic challenge and the resulting defensive orientation, which often leads to the cultural denial of the rights of minorities and even their very existence. Development of greater self-confidence on the part of these regimes and greater willingness to integrate into some prevailing global norms of recognition of minorities—along with various strategies involving democratization and federalism, as suggested above—may make a decisive difference in the future, but it is bound to take time.

A second major theme is that of co-optation as opposed to exclusion, the two clearest alternatives at opposite ends of the spectrum. It makes sense to include some leading elements of the minorities in the regime if this would make it possible to buy off some of their most important constituents. Such a strategy would be rational in every way, at least to the point at which it starts to curtail the power of the dominant group. Yet in practice few regimes have exercised this strategic option effectively. Regimes that routinely use force to hold onto power do not, as a rule, like to share power unnecessarily. They do so only when they have no choice, at which time the strategy is obviously the product of dire necessity. The strategy of sharing is much more effective when it is done early and has a preventive capacity, namely, when it is a step taken while the group out of power considers it a real concession rather than a desperate measure in a situation beyond control. It appears, though, that the prevailing political culture of the region is not hospitable to giving up any power without a pressing need to do so; ₁₁   this creates a vicious cycle that is difficult to break.

Even when co-optation is an option, it can be confined within limits that are simply too narrow and which, therefore, cannot satisfy the genuine political needs of the minority in question. In Egypt there have been Copts at various levels of political activity; the highly visible example of Boutros Boutros-Ghali, who went on from Egyptian political activity to serve as secretary-general of the United Nations, is a good case in point. However, Copts have never occupied positions of real power and have not been allowed to reach the highest echelons of the political structure. Even Boutros-Ghali was prevented from being foreign minister, having to settle for the position of secretary of state for foreign affairs. In that sense, the minority in Egypt is likely to feel that co-optation is meant only to reassure it without really meeting its needs, and this perspective may make it feel more alienated and offended than reassured.

A somewhat different dilemma faces a minority regime that has to co-opt the majority, as is the case in Syria. Here the situation is very complicated. Obviously, the regime wishes to rid itself of the image of being a minority or an ethnic regime, not only because it would reflect badly on its legitimacy but also because it would be suicidal in a country where the minority is so small and where the majority (Sunni Muslims) is so strong in most neighboring countries. Yet a policy of co-optation must be used carefully in this case as well. It is vital to have visible Sunni Muslim figures in key government posts, and indeed Syria has done this in recent years. The presence of Sunni Muslims is quite salient in the political structure, the formal offices of government, and the most visible positions in the military hierarchy. The problems the regime faces in this situation are the classic ones of co-optation in general, namely, making sure that the persons and forces co-opted do not gain too much power, while trying to keep them from feeling used or slighted. So far, the Syrian regime appears to have had considerable success.

Still, experience around the world shows that sooner or later the co-opted tend to become sufficiently ambitious to try to capture a share of real power. They do so when they are no longer content with figurehead positions or just the semblance of power, and when they owe their positions to the goodwill of the co-opting rulers rather than to their own standing. The rulers seem reasonably well prepared for such an eventuality, as the regimes in the region have generally been sensitive to any challenges to their power. When Middle Eastern regimes—the majority of which captured power by force—really open up their political systems to genuine competition, the entire structure of minority-majority relations is likely to change. This will be particularly true in cases in which the minority now rules and the majority is co-opted.

The logical alternative to co-optation is exclusion, namely, keeping the minorities out of power altogether. This is even more salient where the minority is regionally based and focuses on trying to capture some regional power, as in the case of the Kurds in Iraq. There have been past attempts to co-opt some Kurdish leaders into the echelons of power. At times these were leaders with a genuine power base in Kurdistan; others, as Stephen H. Longrigg put it drily, were “Kurds for ministerial purposes,” that is, politicians in the center who could claim at least genealogical descent from the group in the periphery. ₁₂

Yet once the armed struggle intensified in the Kurdish region itself, the Kurds as such were kept out of the centers of national power. To reach a comprehensive political compromise in the future, it may be necessary to treat the Kurds as more than just a local power and to consider them one of the three main constituents of the national body politic. If this is done, they will naturally be offered some share of power in the center—some form of co-optation at the least, or in the case of substantial political evolution, a real share of the resources at the regime’s disposal. If this happens, it will be an interesting attempt to transform the very nature of a minority problem: to delocalize and nationalize it in order to take away the regional sting—which would force the regime to delegate a great deal of power in the periphery in favor of a national emphasis, allowing them to delegate much less power at the center. Perhaps something along these lines could be contemplated in the Sudan, whether or not a genuine federal solution is adopted. Such attempts would obviously require imagination and a willingness to take risks, but they may appear attractive when nothing better offers itself. Rulers may well contemplate these solutions simply because minority problems are getting worse; in an age of mass communications it will be difficult to bring them under control in any less costly way.

Several other variables may have a particularly strong impact on the future of majority-minority relations in Arab countries. Two that seem particularly relevant, based on the cases analyzed in this volume, are the prospects of regime succession and future developments in Islamic politics with respect to minorities and ethnic groups. We are dealing both with republican regimes that were born, by and large, in revolutions or other means of capturing power by force, and hereditary dynasties, many of which had a similar genesis. Both monarchies and republics have struggled with questions of legitimacy, which have become more acute since the collapse of the Soviet Union and the ensuing trends of democratization around the world. Many of them have taken steps toward greater democratization, as shown in this volume and elsewhere, ₁₃   for reasons that are all too obvious. ₁₄   However, the vast majority of regimes depend on a single person or on a ruling junta, rather than on a mass political force institutionalized in the formal structures of parties and ideological movements. Hence, changes in the person of the ruler or the key members of the junta might make a decisive difference not only in the policies of the center but also in the image it projects and in its associated ability to create and maintain an aura of legitimacy.

In the case of Syria, for example, there is a real question regarding to what extent the vast majority of the citizenry regards the Asad regime as government by a minority. There are many reasons to think of it as such, and there are many reasons for the ruler to project a different image via strategies of co-optation, nationalist propaganda, and the like. As long as Asad remains in power, the full impact of the question is not apparent, not only because he dominates the system personally but also because of his enormous prestige and his success in making Syrian power and prosperity and the stability of his own rule one and the same in political discourse. When his own term ends, the regime might be put to a stiff test.

This test will have to be passed before the regime is successfully institutionalized as a national one and not the property of the ‘Alawi minority. If the transition is to another ‘Alawi personality within the security establishment, the other constituents of the Syrian body politic may reject the entire transaction as transparently keeping power within a single sect. If power is transferred to a Sunni figurehead with real domination by the ‘Alawi officers and security chiefs, the situation will be different. There is also the possibility that a member of Asad’s family will inherit the mantle of formal leadership, while making other, more dramatic, but less visible changes on other levels of power.

Given the nature of the Arab state system, it is easy to appreciate Arab rulers’ fear of outside intervention in the domestic affairs of the countries in the region, ostensibly on behalf of the minorities. ₁₅   One should keep in mind traumatic historical memories of the days when European powers used the Christian minorities in the Middle East as a pretext for rather massive intervention in local politics, at times going so far as to gain extraterritorial rights and build states within states, eventually leading to various forms and degrees of colonization. In light of this historical legacy, the regimes’ genuine fear that minorities will be used as triggers for foreign intervention has to be appreciated. The Kurds in Iraq are a salient case in point. Even now, when the Kurds seem to enjoy a fair degree of protection from annihilation in their areas of concentration in northern Iraq, this momentary success is due not to an increase in their own abilities or resources but to the temporary constellation of interest on the part of the allies, primarily the United States. Kurdish history suggests that if the policies of these powers change, the Kurds’ fate will once again take a turn for the worse.

This fear of foreign intervention makes it more difficult for local elites to appreciate the problems of the minorities for what they really are: namely, a domestic political issue—ethnic competition within the process of state building, something that can be seen all over the world. The strong ideological commitments to large entities, the obsession with protecting the regime, the pressures of legitimacy, and the fear of outside intervention all prompt the leaders to deny the existence of the problem of minorities, rather than deal with it openly and honestly, let alone with a degree of tolerance and creativity. ₁₆

An additional factor that makes regime manipulation easier is widespread factionalism among the minorities themselves. This is now most obvious among the Kurds of Iraq, but the Christians in southern Sudan, the Druze, the Berbers, and others have been plagued by it as well. Several anthropologists argue that it is a feature of Middle Eastern culture and society in general. ₁₇   Be this as it may, the existence of bitter, fratricidal struggles within the minority communities and among their leaders, even at times of acute confrontation with regimes, makes it possible for their enemies to manipulate their politics in ways favorable to the existing regimes. This is something that may be overcome in the future, if social change transforms the structure within the groups concerned. So far, it has led many politicians in the region to concentrate on manipulation, rather than on a genuine effort to build political structures capable of accommodating the needs and demands of the minorities.

A twofold process may be at work here. On the one hand, as the Arab state continues to survive as the strong and overwhelming entity that it has been for the past two generations, it will gain more confidence in dealing with problems that reflect upon the structure of the state, but not necessarily on its very existence. ₁₈   On the other hand, as minorities learn to play the political game within this state, they will adjust to the reality of the territorial state that has not allowed any change in boundaries and has not fallen apart even in the face of the most severe challenges. ₁₉   They may also learn that in order to maximize their prospects of success, they will have to overcome factionalism, or at least keep it within manageable boundaries, which they have generally been unable to do so far. ₂₀

The cases surveyed in this volume underscore the argument of Saad Eddin Ibrahim (Sa‘d al-Din), one of the most prominent Arab analysts of the political sociology of minorities in the region, that the problem of minorities in Arab countries should be considered within a broad, general framework of political evolution, a process that is now unfolding across the region. Ibrahim raises the possibility of a comprehensive solution that would provide for linkage between the needs of the state system and those of the minorities. This would be based on the “triangle of federalism, democracy, and civil society.” ₂₁

The first principle, federalism, would suit certain Arab countries, such as Iraq and Sudan, which have minorities in specific areas within their territory. If adopted in these countries, federal solutions would give the minorities political autonomy, the right to use most of the natural resources located within their territories, and the right to retain and develop their own cultures. They would also have the right to make their own laws. According to Ibrahim, the federal solution, which has been found quite successful by such countries as Switzerland and the United States, could also have been successful in Arab countries where governments have paid lip service to the federal principle without really putting it into practice. ₂₂

Because many minorities are not concentrated in clearly designated territories, their problems must also be addressed within a framework of democracy, which is an ideal formula for multiethnic societies. Democracy allows individuals and groups to participate in deciding their fate, planning their own future, protecting their vital interests, and running their own affairs by administering their own societies. Above all, argues Ibrahim, democracy allows for “peaceful coexistence between the ethnic identity on the one hand, and the national ( wataniyya) one on the other.” Because ethnic identity is authentic and deeply rooted, it cannot be permanently suppressed. ₂₃

The third leg of the triangle is the principle of civil society, ₂₄   a term that refers to “all the non-governmental and non-hereditary organizations which are set up to make up for the common principles and interests of their members.” ₂₅   Such organizations include parties, unions, voluntary associations, and clubs. These institutions are perceived to be the main vehicle for reconciling the principles of self-government for the group with the fears of the central regime. The fears referred to are the government’s apprehensions that concessions to minorities would strengthen their identities at the expense of the national ( watani and qawmi ) identity. In Ibrahim’s view, organizations of civil society that cut across ethnic and primordial loyalties are likely to extricate the ethnic groups from their social, political, and psychological isolation and in a more advanced phase may even give them greater opportunities for voluntary association ( indimaj) within society at large. Ibrahim realizes that these three principles are the most creative ideas not only for solving the problems of the minorities as such but also for enabling “the Arabs as a whole to come out of the alley of history [and join] the quick road of humanity towards the twenty-first century.” ₂₆   As such, his analysis, which seems by far the most sophisticated study of the problem from within the Arab world, reinforces the view that the problems of minorities there in general cannot be understood in isolation from the problems of the societies in which they are situated; in other words, it is impossible to define a minority without also defining the majority. Indeed, it is the relationship between the two that is the linchpin of the problem, and when the majority changes, the entire relationship is, by definition, dramatically transformed.

For the time being, there is not much room for optimism. In the short run, the Arab world is not likely to adopt democracy and federalism as principles of a living reality, and the development of civil society is a lengthy and complex process at best, depending on a plethora of complicated social, economic, political, and cultural factors. But an honest discussion of the issue of minorities, such as the one advanced by Ibrahim, is an important step toward coping with some of the key problems and is itself a sign of dramatically changing times. Within the context of such a process, thoughtful writing about minorities in the Arab world by a range of authors can contribute to the developing dialogue about the direction of political evolution in Arab countries. It is hoped that this volume has made a modest contribution to this dialogue, beyond the obvious need to gain more knowledge about and insight into minorities in general. After all, the problem is not one that affects the Middle East alone; it is found throughout the world in the post–Cold War era.

 

Endnotes

Note 1: For an extremely lucid exposition of the theory of such choices, see Samuel P. Huntington’s classic Political Order in Changing Societies (New Haven, Conn.: Yale University Press, 1968).  Back.

Note 2: The phrase comes from Daniel J. Elazar, a leading theoretician of federalism (oral communication).  Back.

Note 3: Gabriel Ben-Dor, “Federalism in the Arab World,” in Daniel Elazar (eds.), Federalism and Political Integration (Ramat Gan, Israel: Turtledove, 1979).  Back.

Note 4: See the classic exposition of this process in Malcolm H. Kerr, The Arab Cold War, 3d ed. (New York: Oxford University Press, 1972).  Back.

Note 5: This refers to the mechanics of running a governmental apparatus efficiently. The term technology indicates the possibility of imitation and learning, as well as that of divorcing the technique from the ideological principles of the regime in question. See Gabriel Ben-Dor, “Civilianization of Military Regimes in the Arab World,” Armed Forces and Society 1, no. 3 (May 1975), pp. 317–327.  Back.

Note 6: Gabriel Ben-Dor, State and Conflict in the Middle East: Emergence of the Postcolonial State (New York: Praeger, 1983).  Back.

Note 7: Gabriel Ben-Dor, “Stateness and Ideology in Contemporary Middle Eastern Politics,” The Jerusalem Journal of International Relations 9, no. 3 (September 1987), pp. 10–37.  Back.

Note 8: This point was first articulated by Aristide R. Zolberg in Creating Political Order: The Party-States of West Africa (Chicago: Rand McNally, 1966).  Back.

Note 9: This way of thinking is analyzed in detail, with reference to many cases around the world, in the works of Zolberg and Huntington cited in notes 8 and 1, respectively. For the application of these frameworks to specific Arab cases, see Ben-Dor, “Federalism in the Arab World.”  Back.

Note 10: For the time being, whatever political power there is tends to be used up for the twin challenges of meeting external (real or perceived) threats and defending the regime against (real or perceived) challenges.  Back.

Note 11: The political practice of the region has built up a set of habits, customs, symbols, and beliefs that give meaning to the political acts and speech of the participants in the system. These condition the political minds of the actors. By its nature, a political culture is more enduring than a given institution or procedure. See Gabriel Ben-Dor, “Political Culture to Middle East Politics,” International Journal of Middle East Politics 8, no. 1 (January 1977), pp. 43–63.  Back.

Note 12: Longrigg uses this phrase repeatedly in his references to ethnic politics in prerevolutionary Iraq. See Stephen H. Longrigg, Iraq, 1900–1950: A Political, Social and Economic History (New York: Oxford University Press, 1953).  Back.

Note 13: See Rex Brynen, Bahgat Korany, and Paul Noble (eds.), Political Liberalization and Democratization in the Arab World , vol. 1, Theoretical Perspectives (Boulder, Colo.: Lynne Rienner, 1995).  Back.

Note 14: See the analysis in Gabriel Ben-Dor, “Prospects of Democratization in the Arab World: Global Diffusion, Regional Demonstration and Domestic Imperatives,” in Brynen, Korany, and Noble, Political Liberalization , pp. 307–332.  Back.

Note 15: All states fear foreign intervention in their internal affairs. However, the Arab states are particularly sensitive to this for two reasons. The first is the historical legacy of colonialism, when outside powers did in fact utilize the minority issue to legitimize their presence in, and domination of, Middle Eastern countries. The second reason is that the inter-Arab system has made the boundaries between Arab countries more permeable to outside influence (from other Arab countries).  Back.

Note 16: On tolerance, see Saad Eddin Ibrahim, “Crises, Elites and Democratization in the Arab World,” Middle East Journal 47, no. 2 (spring 1993), pp. 292–305. Regarding creativity, see Gabriel Ben-Dor, The Modern State in the Middle East: The Need for a Human Face (Toronto: York University Centre for Strategic and International Studies, Occasional Paper, 1993). This work is an example of the literature that tries to reconcile a structural study of the political sociology of the state with normative concerns for human rights and for group rights for ethnic and other minorities in society.  Back.

Note 17: See, for example, Rafael Patai, “The Middle East as a Culture Area,” Middle East Journal 6, no. 1 (winter 1952), pp. 1–21; and Patai, Golden River to Golden Road, 2d ed. (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1967).  Back.

Note 18: See Elie Kedourie, Democracy and Arab Political Culture (Washington, D.C.: Institute for Near East Policy, 1992).  Back.

Note 19: For a survey of the relevant theories and literature, see Gabriel Ben-Dor, State and Conflict. The strength and dominance of the state, which were often disputed a decade and a half ago, are now virtually beyond dispute.  Back.

Note 20: This is a variation on the theme of learning from the follies of the past, as described in Barbara Tuchman’s famous exposition, The March of Folly: From Troy to Vietnam (New York: Knopf, 1984).  Back.

Note 21: Sa‘d al-Din Ibrahim (Saad Eddin Ibrahim), Ta’ammulat fi mas’alat al-aqalliyyat (Cairo: Ibn Khaldun Center, 1992), pp. 13–21; Al-Milal wal-nihal wal-a‘raq: al-taqrir al-sanawi al-thani (Cairo:Ibn Khaldun Center, 1995), pp. 15–23.  Back.

Note 22: Ibrahim also argues that federal principles in general should be a good formula for achieving Arab unity. Compare this with the analysis in Ben-Dor, “Federalism in the Arab World.” Ibrahim’s argument was made much earlier as part of the discourse on Arab unity and inter-Arab relations in general, but by and large to no avail.  Back.

Note 23: See also the argument in Ben-Dor, “Prospects of Democratization in the Arab World.” See also the special issue of Middle East Journal on democratization in the region, vol. 47, no.2 (spring 1993). For a more general view, see Samuel P. Huntington, “Democracy’s Third Wave,” Journal of Democracy 1, no. 1 (spring 1991), pp. 12–34; and Gudrun Kramer, “Liberalization and Democracy in the Arab World,” Middle East Report 22, no. 1 (January–February 1992), pp. 22–25, 35.  Back.

Note 24: See also Timothy D. Sisk, Islam and Democracy: Religion, Politics and Power in the Middle East (Washington, D.C.: U.S. Institute of Peace, 1992); Elie Kedourie, Politics in the Middle East (New York: Oxford University Press, 1992); Sami Zubaida, “Islam, the State and Democracy: Contrasting Conceptions of Society in Egypt,” Middle East Report 23, no. 6 (November–December 1992), pp. 2–10; Raymond A. Hinnebusch, “State and Civil Society in Syria,” Middle East Journal 47, no. 2 (spring 1993), pp. 243–257; and Augustus Richard Norton, “The Future of Civil Society in the Middle East,” Middle East Journal 47, no. 2 (spring 1993), pp. 205–216.  Back.

Note 25: Compare with the earlier literature on institutionalization and political development, namely, Huntington, Political Order in Changing Societies , and Gabriel Ben-Dor, “Institutionalization and Political Development: A Conceptual and Theoretical Analysis,” Comparative Studies in Society and History 18, no. 3 (July 1975), pp. 309–325.  Back.

Note 26: Ibrahim, Ta’ammulat, pp. 231–246.   Back.