Benjamin MacQueen - An Introduction To Middle East Politics-Sage Publications LTD (2018)

An Introduction to
Middle East
Politics
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An Introduction to
Middle East
Politics
Benjamin MacQueen
Second Edition
SAGE Publications Ltd  Benjamin MacQueen 2018
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For Adele, Jeremiah and Dashiell
Table of Contents
About the Author ix

Preface xi
Acknowledgements xiii
Note on Transliteration xv
About the Online Resources xvii
1 The Ottoman Empire and its Legacy in the Middle East 1

2 The Colonial Period in the Middle East 27
3 The Cold War and the New International Relations of the Middle East 63
4 Nationalism, Islamism and the Politics of Ideology 97
5 Israel, the Palestinians and the Peace Process 139
6 Oil, Economy and Development in the Middle East 169
7 The Military, Security and Politics in the Middle East 197
8 Authoritarianism in the Middle East 233
9 Democratisation and the Arab Uprisings 261
10 US Military Intervention in the Middle East 289
11 The Syrian Conflict and the Syrian Refugee Crisis 333
Index 359
About the Author
Dr Benjamin MacQueen is a Senior Lecturer and Head of the Department of

Politics and International Relations in the School of Social Sciences at Monash
University. His research and teaching focuses on the politics of conflict and issues
around post-conflict reconstruction, with a specific emphasis on the Middle East
and North Africa.
Preface
The Middle East is a region of contradictory trends. Where repeated political crises
appear to threaten regional or global stability, the defining political features of the
region have proven remarkably resilient. Recent events, from the uprisings across
the Arab world since 2010 and the outbreak of war in Syria, Yemen and Libya,
the US-led invasion and occupation of Iraq, technological innovations, the global
financial crisis, and economic and cultural globalisation, have shown that even the
most resilient system is not impervious to change.
This volume is an effort to capture the dynamics of a changing Middle East for
a new generation of students and readers. In particular, this volume presents a new
format of Middle East studies textbook, which captures the importance of issues
such as democratisation, political change, human rights, political economy and the
increased centrality of states such as Iraq, Egypt and those of the Gulf, as well as
recognising the importance of politics in ‘non-core’ areas such as Yemen, Sudan, and
North Africa. In saying this, it certainly does not seek to present a comprehensive
re-writing of the modern political history of the region. The goals are much more
modest: to reframe discussions, debates and themes in a way that make it more suit-
able and adaptable to a changed region in a changed world.
The lessons of the uprisings that have gripped the Arab world since 2010, the
so-called ‘Arab Spring’, are useful here. Whilst these events took both governments
and analysts by surprise, they did not emerge from a vacuum. Indeed, one need only
look at the events during and after October 1988 in Algeria to see how rioting over
food prices, housing shortages, unemployment and general government misman-
agement could push an established authoritarian regime to the brink of collapse
and also result in a long-running civil war. A critical message here is that debates
on democratisation, human rights and economic dependency were already present
but needed to be reinvigorated and given new dimensions with the emergence of
technological change, environmental concerns and the ever-changing pressures of
globalisation.
In an effort to capture this, the second edition of An Introduction to Middle East
Politics provides historical, thematic and case study chapters and sections. The first
three chapters of the book unpack the key periods in regional history leading to the
development of the modern state system in the Middle East, with a particular focus
on the interplay between Ottoman rule, colonial governance and the early years of
xii An Introduction to Middle East Politics
independence. Where this historic background is critical, it is presented in such

a way as to emphasise the political, social and economic legacies of these periods,
particularly in terms of the emergence of the key political ideologies that have pro-
foundly impacted the course of politics in the modern Middle East.
This is reflected in Chapters 4, 6, 7 and 8, where the key themes in the politi-
cal dynamics of the modern Middle East are explored in detail. These chapters are
centred on discussions relating to dominant ideological narratives, authoritarianism
and political repression, economic dependency, with a particular focus on the role
of oil, and key security issues. In exploring these themes, the volume combines sig-
nificant detail of specific events and cases grounded in the key debates to provide
greater understanding of the historic political trajectory of the Middle East. These
debates include the supposed authoritarian exceptionalism of the Middle East and
North Africa, the impacts of economic dependency and rentier-style economies,
and conventional and new security threats such as terrorism and political violence.
Chapter 5, as well as Chapters 9, 10 and 11 focus on four continuing crises that
have continued to define regional political affairs: the Israeli–Palestinian conflict,
US interventionism in the region, democratisation and the Arab uprisings, and
the Syrian civil war and refugee crisis. Where discussion over US interventionism
in the region is dominated by issues relating to both Afghanistan and, previously,
Iraq, the discussion here also examines the controversies around patterns of inter-
vention in Somalia and Yemen, including the controversies related to new security
tactics such as drone strikes. This thematic approach to the crises continues in the
examination of the Israeli–Palestinian conflict, with a focus on the stalled Peace
Process. Whilst this covers key elements of the process, it also explores factors such
as competing norms of self-defence and self-determination. The Arab uprisings are
explored with an emphasis on whether they represent a move toward a new demo-
cratic future for the region. Finally, the Syrian conflict and refugee crisis is discussed
in the context of external intervention and regional power balance, with an effort to
draw out and highlight the human cost of on-going conflict and external intervention,
with the displacement of over 10 million Syrian people since 2011.
With the learning tools contained here and on the companion website, including
key learning objectives, extensive timelines, study questions and suggested further
readings, it is hoped that this volume provides an engaging and thought-provoking
overview of Middle East politics.
Acknowledgements
The production of this book would not have been possible without the support of
the School of Social Sciences at Monash University. I also want to acknowledge
the Australian Research Council for their assistance in funding my research on the
region. Both editions of Introduction to Middle East Politics would not have hap-
pened if not for the support of my colleague, Dr Kylie Baxter, of The University
of Melbourne. Siobhán Lyttle’s assistance in the first edition of this book remains
as invaluable in its second incarnation. I am deeply indebted to the work of the
commissioning, editorial, marketing and production team at Sage. Namely Delayna
Spencer, Natalie Aguilera, James Piper, Sally Ransom, Katie Forsythe and Susheel
Gokarakonda.
Note on Transliteration
There are a number of transliterated terms used in this volume, particularly from
Arabic to English but also from Farsi (Persian), Turkish and Hebrew. As with all
transliteration, emphasis is placed on consistency. Where possible, explanatory
notes will be given with the transliterated text (with the transliterated text in italics).
For the Arabic transliterations, the letter ‫‘( ع‬ayn’) is represented by the figure `, as
in Shià or Quràn. There is no equivalent letter in English, but it is conventionally
understood as a ‘glottal stop’.
About the Online Resources
An Introduction to Middle East Politics 2nd edition is supported by a wealth of online

resources for both students and lecturers to aid study and support teaching, which
are available at https://study.sagepub.com/macqueen2e
For students
•• Chapter summaries taken from the book to reinforce your learning goals.
•• Links to the key historical documents referred to throughout the book.
•• A complete timeline of the key dates and events covered in the book.
•• Read more widely! A selection of free SAGE journal articles supports each
chapter to help deepen your knowledge and reinforce your learning of key
topics. An ideal place to start for assignments.
•• 1 video from the SAGE Video Collection to bring your learning to life.
For lecturers
•• PowerPoint Slides, which can be downloaded and customized for use in your
own presentations.
•• Maps, figures and tables, ready to be downloaded into your own lecture slides.
1
The Ottoman
Empire and its
Legacy in the
Middle East
Learning Objectives
This chapter will enable a greater understanding of:
♦♦ The importance of religion and empire in the pre-Ottoman Middle East.

♦♦ The diversity of ethnic and religious communities in the Middle East.
♦♦ The ruling structures of the Ottoman Empire and their legacies for politics in the
modern Middle East.
♦♦ The impacts of political and economic reforms during the late Ottoman period for
states in the Middle East.
♦♦ The role of the military in politics in the Ottoman Empire and the influence of this
today.
♦♦ The development of colonialism and economic dependency during the late Ottoman
period and how this shaped Middle Eastern interactions with the outside world.
2 An Introduction to Middle East Politics
TIMELINE
70 ce: Roman conquest of the 1517–1923: The Ottoman Caliphate

Jewish kingdom in Palestine (Constantinople)
325 ce: Adoption of the Nicene 1536: First of the Capitulations
Creed as the official Christian Treaties signed between France
profession of faith and the Ottoman Empire
622 ce: The Muslim community 1798: Napoleon’s landing in Egypt
flees Mecca for Medina (hijra)
1805–49: Muhammad Àli’s rule in
630 ce: The Muslim community Egypt
return to Mecca
1834: Introduction of the tanzimat
632–61: The Rashidun Caliphate reforms
(Mecca)
1876: Introduction of the first
661–750: The Umayyad Caliphate Ottoman constitution
(Damascus)
1878: Suspension of the Ottoman
756–1031: The Umayyad Caliphate constitution
in Cordoba
1881: Creation of the Ottoman
750–1258: The Àbbasid Caliphate Public Debt Administration
(Baghdad) (OPDA)
910–1171: The Fatimid Caliphate 1909: Reintroduction of the
(Mahdia to 969, Cairo) Ottoman constitution
1250–1517: The Mamluk Caliphate 1909–13: CUP control of Ottoman
(Baghdad) government
Introduction
The pre-colonial, imperial history of the Middle East is often discounted as simply
a long trajectory of decline that left the Middle East open for colonial exploitation.
In contrast, this period is presented here as leaving profound legacies for the polit-
ical, social and economic landscape of the region, legacies that intertwined with
and often outlasted patterns of colonial rule in the modern Middle East. In par-
ticular, the slow decline of the Ottoman Empire and its efforts to resist territorial
losses, economic decline, cultural malaise and the emergence of new identities and
allegiances had immense impacts on the region. Through a brief overview of the
people, identities and religions of the region this chapter will explore the patterns
of Ottoman rule and its legacies. Understanding the legacies of the imperial era in
the Middle East allows a greater comprehension of the impacts of colonialism and
the formation of the state system in the region.
The Ottoman Empire and its Legacy in the Middle East 3
The Middle East in the Imperial Era

The Ottoman Empire was a multi-ethnic and multi-confessional realm. It reached
its peak between the 17th and 18th centuries, during which time it developed an
elaborate set of policies to manage relations between the many groups it ruled to
ensure their political and economic representation, as well as to prevent challenges
to its character as a Muslim Empire. This was challenging as the Empire ruled over
a domain stretching throughout the Middle East, North Africa and into South-
Eastern Europe. This section will outline and discuss the religious and ethnic
composition of the Ottoman Empire, with a focus on the Middle East and North
African territories under Ottoman rule. It will include a brief discussion of the
Middle East’s religious heritage as the birthplace of the three dominant monothe-
istic faiths of Judaism, Christianity and Islam, the role of religious identity in the
late Ottoman period, and the intersection of this with the emerging ideologies of
ethnically based national identity.
The Middle East’s Religious and Imperial Heritage

The Middle East is the birthplace of the three monotheistic faiths of Judaism,
Christianity and Islam. The common theme of monotheism, or belief in one God,
along with their shared history in the Middle East, has tied these religious traditions
together. They share a number of features outside this central tenet of monothe-
ism, in particular a focus on law, social justice and eschatology (life after death). In
addition, religion and religious identity have been key themes in Middle Eastern
political life to today.
Judaism
The Jewish community traces its heritage to the 2nd millennium bce. According
to Jewish tradition, Abraham, as patriarch of both the Jews and Arabs, was directed
by God (yahweh) to move from Harran in northern Mesopotamia (modern-day
Iraq) to the land of Canaan (present-day Israel/Palestine). Here, the children of
Abraham’s grandson Jacob would establish the 12 tribes of Israel that would form
the basis of the Jewish community before, during and after its exile and return from
Egypt around the mid-13th century bce. Between the 13th and 5th centuries bce,
the Jewish community would develop the core features of the faith, characterised
by a focus on law and the inviolability of the oneness of God (Bayme, 1997: 282).
In addition, the Jewish community would pass through periods of self-rule,
occupation and finally conquest at the hands of the Roman Empire in the year
70 ce, and the imposition of Roman control over the former Jewish kingdom on
the eastern shore of the Mediterranean Sea. From this point, the Jews became a
diaspora community throughout the Middle East, North Africa, Europe, and later
North America, Australia and elsewhere. This dispersal of the community would
lead to the development of a range of different traditions, each of which is referential
to the core tenets of the Jewish faith.
The People of the Book (àhl al-kitab) is an Arabic term, referred to in the Qur ` a n, used
to refer to the believers of the non-Muslim monotheistic faiths (Jews and Christians).
The ‘book’ (kitab) is a reference to the shared tradition of reverence for revealed scrip-
ture contained within a holy text (Torah, Bible, Qur ` a n). It was a concept developed by
successive Islamic empires to show preference for these communities over followers
of polytheistic faiths.
Christianity
In these latter years of independent Jewish rule, Christianity emerged as the second
great monotheistic faith in the Middle East. Christianity was a faith founded by
Jesus of Nazareth, who was acclaimed as anointed by God by his followers as part
of God’s earlier covenants with the prophets Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. The desig-
nation ‘Christ’ is a translation from the Greek khristos or ‘annointed’ and translated
from the Hebrew mashiah. As such, Christianity, or the followers of Jesus Christ,
emerged directly out of Jewish tradition and clashed with both the Jewish religious
hierarchy as well as the Roman state religious doctrine of polytheism.
Here, a key difference between Judaism and Christianity is worth noting in that
the former developed alongside the establishment of a political entity in the first
Jewish kingdom and its successors, whilst the latter developed as a small sectarian
movement with no political authority. Whilst this would change in the 4th century
ce with the adoption of Christianity as the state religion of the Roman Empire
under Emperor Constantine, references to specific prescriptions for political rule in
Christianity are negligible compared to the elaborate legal system contained within
Jewish doctrine. This would be a process formalised later with the various church
councils convened by the Romans from the 4th century ce.
Islam
Indeed, the relationship between religion and politics highlights a closer connec-
tion between Judaism and the other great monotheistic faith to emerge from the
Middle East, Islam. Judaism and Islam both seek to grapple directly with the issue
of temporal political authority and understand the relationship of this to spiritual

authority and faith. Islam was founded by the Prophet Muhammad in the 7th cen-
tury ce in the Hijaz, or the western Arabian Peninsula. After having developed a
well-established trading network in the city of Mecca, Muhammad is said to have
received direct revelation from God (allah) that was documented in the Quràn
(recitation or reading) as the direct word of God. The Quràn developed over a
number of years as Muhammad received more revelations. It is here that the rela-
tionship between Islam and politics began to develop through two distinct phases
(Lapidus, 2002: 18–30).
THE CALIPHATES
♦♦ The Rashidun Caliphate (632–61)

♦♦ The Umayyad Caliphate (661–750)
♦♦ The Umayyad Caliphate in Cordoba (756–1031)
♦♦ The Àbbasid Caliphate (750–1258)
♦♦ The Fatimid Caliphate (910–1171)
♦♦ The Mamluk Caliphate (1250–1517)
♦♦ The Ottoman Caliphate (1517–1923)
In this first phase, Muhammad drew a small group of followers to this new faith, but
also attracted the hostility of the authorities in Mecca, who saw the monotheistic
message as a challenge to the dominant polytheistic practice in the region, and the
themes of social justice as a challenge to their economic dominance of the region.
This led to increasingly direct persecution of the community before it fled to the
city of Medina in the year 622 ce. From here, Muhammad and his community grew,
quickly becoming the dominant force in the city. It was during this second period that
revelation and its documentation in the Quràn began to deal explicitly with political
matters, as it was now the governing authority of a nascent political community.
Selections from the Constitution of Medina

♦♦ They are one community (ummah) to the exclusion of all men.
♦♦ God’s protection is one, the least of them may give protection to a stranger on
their behalf. Believers are friends one to the other to the exclusion of outsiders.
♦♦ Yathrib [Medina] shall be a sanctuary for the people of this document.
(Continued)
(Continued)
♦♦ If any dispute or controversy likely to cause trouble should arise it must be referred
to God and to Muhammad the apostle of God.
♦♦ The Jews of al-Aus, their freed men and themselves have the same standing with
the people of this document in purely loyalty from the people of this document.
Guillarme, Alfred (1967) The Life of Muhammad: A Translation of Ibn Ishaq’s Sirat
Rasul Allah. Oxford: Oxford University Press, p. 231
In addition to the increasingly specific revelations regulating the politics of the

Muslim community, Muhammad also developed the Constitution of Medina
(al-dustur al-madina), an agreement between the leader of the Muslim community
and all the major tribes of the city including all Muslims as well as the significant
Jewish population and the polytheist community. This model sought to replace
tribal ties with membership in the Islamic community (ummah), with concurrent
equal citizenship rights; to ensure religious freedoms within the community, whilst
positioning the head of the Muslim community as the head of the political com-
munity; to install a new taxation system that would alleviate social inequalities; and
to allow for the accession of new groups. As such, this act and the context that it
was articulated in, established a sense of unitary Islamic identity as well as a mode
of Islamic governance that would incorporate a variety of other religions (Lapidus,
2002: 18–30).
Today, it is estimated there are 1.57 billion Muslims globally, the world’s second largest
religion, with the vast majority of the Muslim global community living outside the Middle
East and North Africa (an estimated 75% of Muslims live outside the Middle East). Of
this community, the majority are of the Sunni branch of the faith (85–90%). Iran, Iraq
and Bahrain have Shià majority communities, and there are significant Shià communi-
ties in Lebanon, Yemen, Kuwait and Turkey.
This was not without challenge. Indeed, a number of Jewish tribes in Medina
resisted the new government, leading to an unsuccessful rebellion and their exile
from the city. In addition, the dominant tribes of Mecca, concerned about the
emergence of a new regional centre of authority, engaged in a series of battles with
the new community between 624 and 629 ce. Ultimately, the Muslim community
defeated the Meccan forces and united the tribes of the western Arabian Peninsula
under the banner of Islam by the time of the Prophet’s death in 632 ce.
Islamic Empires
Challenges to the rapid growth of Islam as a religion and empire across the Middle
East were not exclusively external. The contested question of the succession after
Muhammad led to the outbreak of civil war over the method of selecting the leader
of the community. The first three successors to Muhammad, Abu Bakr, Umar and
Uthman, served to balance claims to succession based on political and economic
ascendancy as opposed to lineage and proximity to Muhammad. These tensions
broke open with the appointment of Àli as successor (caliph) in 656 ce, leading
to challenges from members of the formerly dominant quraysh tribe, members
of whom had been appointed to prominent political positions across the grow-
ing Islamic empire. Àli was assassinated in 661 ce, which saw leadership pass to
Muàwiyyah, a member of the quraysh and governor of the Syrian territories con-
quered from the Byzantines. The supporters of Àli (shiàtu àli or Shià) continued
to rebel against this new government and were largely marginalised over the ensu-
ing five centuries, whilst the majority of the community (calling themselves the
àhl us-sunnah wa`l-gamaàh or Sunni) gave their allegiance to Muàwiyyah and the
newly established Umayyad Caliphate.]
The Umayyad Caliphate, built on the conquests of the first Islamic empire and
its immediate successors, had spread its rule from the Arabian Peninsula and the
Levant through North Africa, Andalusia (modern-day Spain) and east to the
borders of India by the mid-8th
century ce. Here, the Middle East,
with the exception of Byzantine-
held Anatolia (modern-day Turkey)
became ruled by a succession of
Islamic empires until the collapse of
the Ottoman Empire at the end of
World War I. This saw the region’s
political practices, symbology, lit-
erature, art and all other fields
heavily imbued with reference to
Islam, even when this was not spe-
cifically referential to religion. The
glories of this period, particularly
the Àbbasid ‘Golden Age’ between
the 8th and 13th centuries ce put Figure 1.1 The expansion of Islamic rule in
the Middle East at the centre of the Middle East and North Africa from the time
technological, artistic and politi- of the Prophet Muhammad to the end of the
cal advancement. Nostalgia for this Umayyad Caliphate in 750 ce
period, and discussions of how the Source: Boston Public Library
Middle East and the Islamic world was challenged and increasingly dominated by
the European colonial powers by the 18th and 19th centuries, is a common refer-
ence point for the emergence of modern political dialogue in the region and still
shapes many discussions today (Donner in Esposito, 1999; Lapidus, 2002: 67–80).
The People of the Ottoman Empire

Of the imperial rulers in the Middle East, it was the Ottomans who arguably left
the most lasting political, economic and social legacy in the region. The Ottoman
Empire, founded in the 14th century ce in Anatolia before the conquest of the
Byzantine capital at Constantinople (renamed Istanbul) in 1453 ce, was based
on the military might of the Turkish population who had migrated from Central
Asia and converted to Islam from the 9th century ce. Between the 14th and 16th
centuries, the Ottoman Empire expanded to control the Fertile Crescent, the Red
Sea coast, the North African coast to modern-day Morocco, all of Anatolia and all
of the Balkan Peninsula, famously advancing as far as Vienna twice, in 1529 and
1683 ce.
The Millet System

Across this vast territory, the Empire ruled over a variety of ethnic groups such as the
Turks, Arabs, Tartars, Kurds, Turkomans, Berbers, Mamluks, Bosnians, Albanians,
Greeks, Bulgarians, Armenians and Georgians, amongst many others. However,
religion was used as the primary tool of personal identification in the Empire. This
was institutionalised in the millet (or miliyet) system.
The millet system established categories for the Greek Orthodox, the Armenian
(including Armenian Catholic, Evangelical and Apostolic), the Syriac Orthodox
and the Jewish communities alongside Muslim ‘citizenship’ of the Empire. Here,
each community would exercise its own personal status law as administered by the
relevant religious authorities. Whilst this was an exercise in promoting a sense of
equality, the millet system contained within it an institutionalisation of preferen-
tial treatment for the Muslim citizens of the Empire until the tanzimat reforms
of the 19th century, discussed below. Up to the tanzimat, all disputes between
non-Muslims (dhimmi) and Muslims were to be administered under Muslim law,
non-Muslims could not officially hold positions within the imperial government
(although many non-Muslims held critical advisory roles throughout the history of
the Empire), and non-Muslims had to pay a tax, the čizya.
Somewhat ironically, for the bulk of its history the Ottoman Empire had a minor-
ity Muslim population. Until the loss of the majority of its European territories in
the 19th century, the population of the Empire peaked at over 70 million inhabitants,
with an estimated 40 million members of the various non-Muslim millets. On the eve
of the collapse of the Ottoman Empire, and after the bulk of its European and North
African territories had been excised by the European powers, the population stood at
an estimated 20 million. Of this, an estimated 15 million, or 75% were Muslim; 1.8
million, or 9% were Greek Orthodox; 1.3 million, or 7% were Armenian; 190,000,
or 1% were Jewish; with the remainder comprising a range of smaller groups, largely
members of Eastern Christian churches (Lapidus, 2002: 265).
The term millet comes from the Arabic millah (community). The enshrinement of reli-
gious identification as the source of personal law has its roots in pre-Ottoman imperial
rule, but was formalised during the tanzimat reform period (1839–76). Until the rise of
‘Ottomanism’ during the 19th century and efforts to formalise equality for all members
of the Empire, the millet system worked to both protect religious identity and enshrine
Muslim predominance.
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The Emergence of National Identities

Ethnic identity was present, in one form or another, throughout the Ottoman
Empire. In particular, language as a vehicle of identity helped define and catego-
rise the many communities within the Empire. However, ethnicity as the primary
form of identity, or what we know commonly today as national identity, only
began to crystallise amongst communities in the Empire during the mid to late-
19th century ce. As with most nationalist doctrines, the emergence of national
identities in the region materialised largely in response to challenges from other
groups, particularly from Europe. In this dynamic, contemporary Turkish and
Arab identity developed together.
Origins of Turkish National Identity

The origins of contemporary Turkish identity grew not from a specific government
policy but from education and economic interactions between the Ottoman Empire
and Europe. Here, the ideas of nationalism as an identity that superseded both reli-
gious and, later, imperial allegiance would take root in the Anatolian Peninsula and,
consequently, across the Middle East. Nationalism can be briefly defined as an ide-
ology that focuses on the unity and equality of all members of an ethnic or cultural
community, with the aim that these communities, or nations, would be represented
by their own nation-state.
This quintessentially modern form of political organisation was born out of the
French Revolution in the late 18th century, and quickly spread through Europe and
North America before finding its way to the Middle East, largely through Turkish
and Arabic scholars and military officers in training who were studying at European
institutions throughout the 19th century. Initially, early ideas of national identity in
the Ottoman Empire sought to preserve the multi-ethnic character of the Empire.
This was articulated through the various strands of the ‘Young Ottoman’ move-
ment, where the central idea was one of allegiance to the Ottoman ‘homeland’,
regardless of religious affiliation (Kayali, 1997: 18).
Whilst this became formalised through the various reform processes during the
19th century, it also led to a sharpening of ethnic divides within the Empire, largely
between the dominant Turkish communities and their representatives in the higher
ranks of the Ottoman military and the Arab community in the south of the Empire.
This saw the idea of Ottoman nationalism, or ‘Ottomanism’, decline through the
19th century to be replaced by an increasingly potent sense of Turkish and Arab iden-
tity. Turkish ethnic identity crystallised with the Young Turk movement, an amalgam
of various protest movements seeking the implementation of a constitutional regime
to temper the power of then-Sultan Abdul Hamid II (1876–1909), which had grown
as a result of the centralisation policies of the tanzimat.
Indeed, Abdul Hamid had dissolved the former Ottoman constitution and parlia-
ment in 1878. Whilst it was made up of a number of groups, both inside and outside
the Empire, the European-educated army officers, largely from the Third Army in
Salonika, formed its driving force. Their pressure on the Sultan led to the revival of
the constitution in 1908. In 1909, counter-protests erupted amongst conscript soldiers
and members of the religious establishment, calling for the constitution to be dissolved
and religious law to be introduced. These protests were also an effort to counter what
was seen as an increasing Europeanisation of the political life of the Empire through
this officer corps. In response, the officers confronted the Sultan, whom they claimed
had stirred this unrest, and forced him from office, replacing him with Mehmet V as a
figurehead for a new military-backed regime (Allen Butler, 2011: 37).
Whilst the protest movement initially also included a range of other voices, the
military leadership through the Committee for Union and Progress (CUP), founded
in 1889, soon took full control of the new government. In their efforts at reforming
the government between 1909 and 1913, the CUP slashed the bureaucracy, target-
ing high-ranking Arab officials in the name of enhancing efficiency. This move saw
the increasing alienation of both the civil service and the Arab political elite from
the imperial authority in the lead-up to World War I.
This fracturing of Ottoman authority was accelerated by a loosening of controls
over press censorship that allowed for both greater criticism of the government and
for the articulation of counter-narratives, particularly through the emergence of
a greater sense of Turkish and Arab nationalism based on linguistic unity around
the key urban areas in Anatolia and the Arab east. This was compounded by the
increasing interference of the British and French in the Ottoman-held Arab ter-
ritories in the Levant and Arabian Peninsula.
In this regard, the CUP and the Young Turk movement more generally were not
part of a nationalist movement as such, at least not initially. They saw their heritage
in line with their predecessor movement in the Young Ottomans, and sought the pro-
motion of a multi-confessional sense of Ottomanism. However, as they oversaw the
steady erosion of Ottoman holdings in the Balkans, the idea of a multi-confessional
identity become increasingly moot as the Empire was reduced to an Anatolian, largely
ethnically Turkish core (encompassing large Armenian, Kurdish and Greek minorities)
with a significant Arab southern flank. Indeed, as ethnic identity became increasingly
salient in South-Eastern Europe, it also began to resonate with the people of the
late Ottoman Empire. Coupled with the articulation of a sense of Turkish identity
within key elements of the CUP leadership, the movement towards rearticulating the
Ottoman Empire as a Turkish domain began to take root (Kayali, 1997: 38).
Origins of Arab National Identity

This struggle between ethnic identity, religious affiliation and regional links is an
issue that reflects many of the issues that underlie the fragility of regional identities
and political affiliations today. This is particularly so in the Arab community where
the growth of a unitary identity, particularly in the Arab east, based primarily on
linguistic unity, has sat in tension with the political division of the region. Whilst
a sharper sense of Arab national identity emerged in reaction to the growth of the
Young Turk movement and its turn to Turkish nationalism, Arab identity began to
establish itself particularly in the literary and intellectual circles of the main cities
of Damascus, Cairo, Baghdad and Beirut, and elsewhere, through the 19th century
(Dawisha, 2003: 14–48).
This notion of Arab identity did not articulate a clear and unified sense of political
identity in terms of whether the Arabs should remain part of the Ottoman Empire,
whether they should form their own renewed Caliphate or republic, or what the ter-
ritorial limits of their community were. However, the revival and dissemination of
literary Arabic in the late 19th century laid the foundations for a cross-confessional
sense of Arab identity that would emerge in a clearer form in response to the early
stages of creeping European colonialism, the final stages of Ottoman decline, and
the imposition of direct forms of colonial rule during the 20th century.
Arab identity has always been a contested term, and one that seeks to identify
elements of unity within a highly culturally and geographically diverse community.
The Arab people populate a vast and varied geographic area, stretching from the
Arabian Peninsula, through the Fertile Crescent, along the Mediterranean coast
from Lebanon through Africa, to the Atlas Mountains of Algeria and Morocco
and the coast of the Atlantic Ocean. They are not the sole community in these
areas, sharing North Africa with the various Berber (Amazigh) communities
and the Levant with other groups, such as the Kurds, a large Armenian diaspora,
Greeks, Turkmen, Assyrians, Jews and others. However, they are the dominant
community in the region and, up to the early 20th century, in the southern tier of
the Ottoman Empire.
Whilst there is religious diversity amongst the Arab people, around 90% of
Arabs are Muslim, with the majority of these being Sunni Muslim. Indeed, Arab
and Muslim histories are inextricably tied together. The Arab people, prior to the
founding of the religion in the 7th century ce, populated the Arabian Peninsula,
with scattered communities further north across the Levant. It was only with the
expansion of the Islamic religion up to the 10th and 11th centuries that the Arab
people became the dominant social group in the Middle East and North Africa.
However, Arab Christians and Arab Jews have been central players in the political
life of the region, including in the development of early nationalist movements.
Emerging Ethnic and Nationalist Tensions

This sense of modern Arab national identity grew at the same time and, indeed, in
competition with the development of the sense of modern Turkish national iden-
tity. It primarily drew on a shared language and history, even though both of these
factors vary for Arabs in Morocco compared to those in Iraq, Lebanon or Oman.
This balance or, as some historians argue, tension between the broader sense of
Arab identity and local identities based around emerging states or tribal/familial
associations is a key characteristic of the Arab community (Barakat, 1993: 32–47).
Early manifestations of Arab national identity largely downplayed this due to
the immediate sense of confrontation with the increasingly unpopular Ottoman
rule. This led to two initial streams of resistance to the Ottomans based on Arab
identity, one expressive of ‘traditional’ allegiances as manifested in the Arab Revolt
during World War I, and another growing out of more secular intellectual groups
and movements in the cities of Damascus, Baghdad and Cairo.
Both Turkish and Arab nationalism would become highly influential in the lat-
ter years of the Ottoman Empire and immediately after its collapse in the wake of
World War I. However, the political trajectory of the region and the allegiances
people adhered to have been deeply influenced by the political systems and prac-
tices of the Ottoman period. Indeed, the legacies of Ottoman rule in the Middle
East continue to be debated by historians, with emergent and recurring patterns in
contemporary Middle Eastern politics reflective of the policies of the Empire and
their political, economic and social consequences.
The Legacy of Ottoman Rule in the Middle East

Whilst the Ottoman legacy in the Middle East was profound, this section will focus
on four areas where patterns of Ottoman rule as well as Ottoman engagement with
Europe left imprints on the future political, social and economic trajectory of the
Middle East. First, the core political institutions of the Empire highlight a tradi-
tion of centralised, bureaucratic rule in the region. Second, the Ottoman response
to European dominance and development led to a series of policy reforms known as
the tanzimat. These reforms led to changes in patterns of rule that have been highly
influential for the forms of rule and statehood that emerged in the Middle East
during the 20th century. Third, the role of the Ottoman military left an important
legacy, not just for the way the institution was organised, but for how it saw its role
in politics and as a vehicle for change, by force if necessary. Fourth, the Ottoman
economic dependency on Europe that emerged in the 19th century has helped to
shape the pattern of contemporary economic relations between the Middle East and
the outside world, as well as fostering particularly sharp resentment of consistent

external interference in the region.
Ottoman Rule in the Middle East

Ottoman rule went through various phases, but maintained core institutional
elements over the seven centuries it dominated the Middle East. Here, three insti-
tutions were central: the Sultan, the Grand Vizier and the Grand Mufti. The Sultan
sat atop the ruling hierarchy in the Ottoman Empire. This was a title inherited from
the Seljuqs to denote the ruler of a Muslim Empire who did not claim the Caliphate,
or succession to the Prophet Muhammad. However, Sultan Selim I (1512–20)
induced the former claimants, the remnants of the Àbbasid dynasty, to cede their
claims to the Ottoman ruler with the Ottoman defeat of the Egyptian-based
Mamluk Empire in 1517 ce, where the former imperial dynasty had sought refuge.
The degree of authority wielded by the Sultan varied during the course of the
Empire; however, the Sultan’s court (saray) and his high officers held considerable
sway over decision-making during the lifespan of the Ottoman Empire. The saray
was the centre of government and also served as a training ground for adminis-
trators and military officers who governed the Empire. The Ottomans sought to
implement an increasingly centralised bureaucracy, particularly during and after the
19th century ce, administered through the saray, with the Grand Vizier at its head.
The day-to-day political affairs of the government were administered by the Grand
Vizier, equivalent to a modern-day Prime Minister (Ágoston and Masters, 2009:
617). Whilst the Vizier wielded considerable power, he (these positions were always
occupied by men) was also vulnerable to being made a scapegoat should there be
outbreaks of public discontent or major government failures. This was an all too
common theme towards the latter decades of the Empire, leading to greater politi-
cal instability and the further vulnerability of the Empire to external and internal
challenges.
The Ottoman government sought to regulate religion, specifically Islam, across
the Empire through the religious establishment, headed by the Grand Mufti (sheikh
al-ùlama). The Empire’s private law code was run according to religious identity in
line with the categories of the millet system. Outside of this, Islamic law (shariàh)
was dominant, administered by religiously educated judges (qadi). The Grand
Mufti had the power to appoint judges as well as the extraordinary power to veto
any other ruling of the government, even one issued by the Sultan, should he deem
it contradictory to the shariàh. However, as the Mufti was appointed by the Sultan
and served at his pleasure, there are no notable instances where the Sultan’s author-
ity was challenged in this way (Ágoston and Masters, 2009: 617).
The Tanzimat Reforms and ‘Modernisation’

It was the last decades of Ottoman rule, and the reforms undertaken during this
time to stem its territorial losses and increasing economic dependency on Europe,
that left the most pronounced legacy on the contemporary Middle East. As the
borders of the Empire contracted, the imperial administration in Istanbul sought to
impose a greater degree of centralised control over the remaining territory. This was
an effort to mirror the centralised bureaucracies of the European powers, an effort
at political modernisation. In particular, the imperial government sought to extend
its control over education, charity and social services, areas that were previously the
almost exclusive domain of local administrations.
The Tanzimat
The centrepiece of this centralisation programme was the tanzimat (reorganisa-
tion). The tanzimat was a series of often disorganised policy programmes designed
to ensure the territorial integrity of the Empire against both external threats and
internal rebellions, as well as to reinvigorate the Ottoman economy and free it from
its increasing dependency on Europe. The mechanisms for achieving this focused
on tax standardisation, the enshrinement of private property rights, a centralisation
of the bureaucracy and the introduction of conscription. In essence, it broadened
the role of the Ottoman state considerably, granting it a presence in many areas
that had previously been delegated to local notables, religious institutions and the
private sphere (Finkel, 2007: 3).
The reforms sought to standardise and centralise the structure of the Empire
through the imposition of new administrative units, the vilayets (provinces). This
effort at standardisation was introduced with the first set of reforms in 1834. In the
areas closest to the Ottoman capital (Anatolia and the Balkans), relatively central-
ised administration could be implemented. However, in the more peripheral vilayets
(notably around Cairo, Baghdad, Algiers, Tunis and even Aleppo and Damascus),
the Ottomans sought to rule through local leaders and administration functioned
around and through these local urban centres. This led to the creation of some
sense of political community based on these areas. In particular, Egypt remained a
distinct cultural and, at times, political entity, drawing particularly on its Mamluk
heritage (Lapidus, 2002: 354–8).
This had many effects across the Empire. In terms of education, many Ottoman
public servants were dispatched to European learning institutions to acquire the
necessary skills for these new tasks. These new public servants, as well as the officer
class, encountered a variety of new political ideologies that would shape regional
political discourse through the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Here, nationalism,
socialism and other ideologies would begin to take root amongst the political elites
across the Middle East. The general increase in the size of the public service in the
late Ottoman Empire saw this sector become the primary avenue for social mobility
(Evered, 2012). This was a critical change for the social patterns of the Middle East,
where social mobility had previously been hindered by the hierarchical nature of the
imperial system. Now, the institutions of state allowed those who had previously
been excluded from access to political and economic advancement the chance for
greater social mobility.
The Reform Process and the Decline of Ottoman Authority

This played into the fraying of Ottoman authority outside the core territories in
Anatolia and the Levant. For instance, in seeking to mitigate the growth of oppo-
sition across its vast territory, the reforms also developed a new system of provincial
administration. This new system was, in varying degrees, later used by the European
powers as a framework for the colonial division of the Arab Middle East. Prior
to the 19th century, the provincial policy focused on building Ottoman author-
ity around pre-existing administrative areas. Here, the Sultan’s sons were allocated
The Ottoman Empire, 1914

Ottoman Empire, 1914
Former Ottoman lands ROMANIA
(with date of loss of control)
SERBIA 1878 ASIA
Border of Ottoman Empire, BULGARIA
1800 BOSNIA 1878 1908
1878
EUROPE
MONTENEGRO Black Sea
1878
ALBANIA
1913 GREECE
1829
ALGERIA Mediterranean CRETE CYPRUS
1830 TUNISIA Sea 1913 1878
1881
LIBYA
1912 EGYPT
1882
Re
dS
N
ea
YEMEN
0 300 600 mi AFRICA 1913
0 300 600 km
Figure 1.3 Decline of the Ottoman Empire, from the 18th to the 20th century
provinces (sančaks) where they acted as governors (beylerbeys) and which they ruled
in conjunction with high-ranking military officers (sančakbeys) (Ágoston and
Masters, 2009: 616).
Regionalism and Centralisation

Despite efforts to maintain links back to the central government, this system tended
to emphasise the role of particular urban areas and the links between these areas
and their immediate hinterlands (i.e. Cairo to Egypt, Damascus to the Levant, and
Baghdad to the Tigris–Euphrates river valley). Control was often divided between
local leaders and Ottoman officials, with Ottoman control greatest in the urban
areas and local autonomy asserting itself most in the rural areas. In the 18th and
19th centuries, despite these efforts at centralisation, Ottoman control over these
areas waned, and the local authorities and elites began to assert themselves over the
local population (Quataert, 2007: 90–110).
This was fostered by the ideological growth of the notion of nationalism
imported from Europe that accompanied the increasing European interventions in
the Empire. However, this notion of national identity was tempered by the strong
presence of family and the region-based allegiances still deeply influential over
social and political organisation across the region. The reform process was further
complicated due to the lack of strong political institutions outside the personalised
rule of the Sultan and the Grand Vizier. Here, efforts were made to construct new
political institutions that would, on one hand, address the growing calls for political
representation and, on the other, reinforce the need for greater centralised rule in
the face of both internal and external challenges. In this regard, efforts were made
to introduce a parliament in the latter stages of the Empire.
The 1876 constitution introduced a two-chamber parliament, guarantees regard-
ing freedom of religion and a gesture towards a formal division of powers. However,
the Sultan retained control over all core political and economic decisions, without the
need to consult with the newly formed parliament. This qualification undermined
the ability of this new institution to serve as a formal mechanism for popular will,
compounded by the deteriorating relations between the central government and the
regions on the periphery of the Empire, who saw little incentive in participating in a
process that might hinder their own chances of greater autonomy or independence.
Therefore, the overarching theme of the late Ottoman period was an effort to
centralise the rule of the imperial government. It was hoped that implementing this
programme as a form of political modernisation would stem the territorial losses
of the Empire, insulate it against further economic and cultural penetration and
preserve it into the future. Whilst this strategy failed, with Ottoman involvement
in World War I leading to the collapse of the Empire, it did leave a legacy for the
successor states across the region.
This can be seen particularly in terms of total, direct rule backed by a large
military and state bureaucracy emerging as a political model. As the late impe-
rial administration pursued a policy of centralisation, tensions arose as established
patterns of social and economic authority were increasingly challenged across the
Middle East. This was especially apparent in the outlying provinces, where the
imperial administration struggled to impose centralised rule without alienating
local elites, fearing their involvement in challenges to an already fragile government
in Istanbul (Palmer, 2011).
The Military and Political Authority

The role of the military as an institution was a central part of the functioning of
the Empire. Indeed, succession to the throne in the Ottoman Empire was a process
deeply embedded in the military institution as well as through the direct use of vio-
lence. Unlike many other empires, the Ottoman throne did not automatically pass
to the eldest son of the monarch. Instead the Sultan’s sons were sent to various parts
of the Empire to act as governors and receive a military and political education.
Upon the death of the Sultan, each of the sons would engage in a contest for the
throne, with the position passing to the victor (Quataert, 2007).
During the reign of Sultan Mehmet II (1451–81), this process took a more
violent turn. After acceding to the throne, Mehmet ordered the execution of all
his brothers as a means to ensure that there would be no direct challenge to his
rule. This act of fratricide became institutionalised through to the 17th century ce
before giving way to succession of the throne to the eldest male in the royal family.
However, whilst the act of fratricide did not continue, all males in the royal fam-
ily were cloistered in the royal palace, away from potential political activity. This
process mirrored the changing nature of the Empire, where militaristic expansion
ceased during the 17th and 18th centuries, and the Sultan assumed a less martial
role in favour of maintaining the political status quo through symbolic power.
The Military and Politics in the Ottoman Empire

With the change away from the use of fratricide came many more challenges,
often successful, to the rule of the Sultan. However, this did not see a collapse of
the system, as challenges all emerged from within the key institution of the royal
household. This highlights continuity to today in terms of the rotation of leadership
in many regional states, particularly during the Cold War, without real changes to
the patterns of rule or systems of governance. In particular, it would be from the
military that most key challenges to the ruling authority would emerge.
The increased power of the military in the latter period of the Ottoman Empire,
particularly the role of the military in sponsoring political and economic reforms,
established a pattern whereby regional militaries have continued to intervene in politics
since independence (Quataert, 2007: 90–110). This has been somewhat of a contradic-
tory pattern whereby the military has seen itself as the champion of modernisation and
Western-style reforms (such as bureaucratisation and industrialisation), whilst at the
20° 30° Konya 40° 50° 60°

1831
1824–’30
Damascus
Alexandria
Cairo
1813
Diriyah
Medina 1818, ‘38

Aswan
Mecca
1820–’22
Khartoum Massawa
Ta’izz
AI Fashir
1874
Barbera
Fashoda
Harar
Lado
Wadelai
Egypt under Muhammad Ali Dynasty
1805–1914
Egypt 1805
Acquisition under Muhammad Ali until 1840 Kismayo
Ruled during Greek campaign
Lost in 1841
Acquisition until 1880
Egypt and Sudan in 1914
Campaign with year
0 (km) 1000
Figure 1.4 Muhammad Àli (1769–1849), ruler of Egypt from 1805 to 1849, led a series
of modernising reforms in Egypt. These reforms continue to define the place of the army
in Egyptian society and its relationship to politics. Àli broke from Ottoman rule in the
early 19th century, conquering the territories of today’s Sudan, Israel/Palestine, Jordan,
Lebanon, western Syria, the western and central Arabian Peninsula and parts of Anatolia,
Cyprus and Greece, before being forced, with British and French backing, to resubmit to
Ottoman authority
same time being an institution that, when taking control of the state, has articulated
a foreign policy hostile to Western powers. In many ways it was this dependency on
the European powers during the latter years of the Ottoman Empire, and the humili-
ation that this brought, that fostered a sense of resentment combined with a desire
for emulation.
Muhammad Àli in Egypt

This dynamic can be seen in the reforms in Egypt under Muhammad Àli in
the early 19th century. War between Britain and Napoleonic France raged across
Europe in the late 18th and early 19th centuries. In 1798, this conflict came to
Egypt in the form of a French expeditionary force that sought to disrupt British
maritime dominance of the Mediterranean and disrupt their links to the growing
colonial holdings in India. The French presence in Egypt ended at the hands of
a joint British–Ottoman action in 1801. Muhammad Àli, an Albanian officer in
the Ottoman forces, quickly emerged as the dominant force and imposed his rule
in the vacuum left by the French withdrawal and the inability of the Ottomans
to subsequently assert their direct authority over the increasingly independent
territory.
Over the next 40 years, Àli, who remained under nominal Ottoman authority,
thoroughly reformed both the military and political institutions in Egypt, intro-
duced programmes of economic development and industrialisation, and even waged
a series of campaigns against the government in Istanbul that saw him gain control
over the Sudan, the Hijaz and the eastern shore of the Mediterranean.
Whilst Àli’s rule did not see the introduction of a pluralist political system,
with Àli preferring to seek the establishment of a dynasty in Egypt, his reforms
of the military and his use of the military as the engine of political, economic and
social reorganisation in Egypt set a trend for others ruling in the peripheries of the
Empire as well as for post-independence rulers in the Middle East. The Ottoman
and Mamluk military establishment that had dominated Egypt prior to the 19th
century was completely dismantled in favour of a new organisation built directly on
the European model.
To facilitate this, officers were sent to Europe for training whilst the government
contributed massive resources to the development of an educational infrastructure
that could support, at first, military training and then broader education in the
future. Here, the military-led model of development established by Àli would be
replicated in the last years of the Ottoman Empire and during the early years of
independence in the 20th century.
The success of Muhammad Àli’s reforms and the strength of the military
as the vehicle for modernisation prompted international intervention in 1841,
when the British, concerned about the growing power of this new regime, coop-
erated with the Ottomans in defeating Àli’s forces in Syria and forced him to
withdraw back to Egypt. The British intervention was based on their concern
over the instability that had been created in the region, potentially undermin-
ing the viability of the increasingly weak Ottoman Empire and raising the
fear of regional instability that would disrupt trade and British links to India
(Cleveland and Bunton, 2009: 64–74). As a result, the British imposed a settle-
ment which not only limited the size of the Egyptian military and placed it back
under Ottoman control, but also forced the Ottoman government to accept a
series of economic reforms that allowed for European control over the Ottoman
economy. The once-great Empire was increasingly living up to its moniker as the
‘sick man of Europe’.
Europe and the Ottoman ‘Sick Man’

As early as 1536 the Ottomans, under Sultan Suleiman I, signed the first of what
would become known as the ‘Capitulations Treaties’ with the European powers. This
treaty, signed with France, created a fifth category in the millet system for French
citizens, largely Catholic, who had taken up residence in the Empire. This group
would be tax exempt and answerable to the French king via the French ambassador.
Whilst this was a reciprocal process, there was little in the way of movement of
Ottomans to Europe, representative of the dominance of the Empire at the time
(Palmer, 2011).
The capitulations (ahdnâmes) were a series of bilateral treaties that granted exemp-
tions from taxes and other liabilities to the subjects of European empires or their
representatives in the Ottoman Empire. Signed between the 16th and 19th centuries,
the treaties bestowed autonomy on these groups, allowing the European powers to gain
control over trade with the Ottoman Empire.
Over the intervening centuries the British, Dutch and others also signed these
treaties with the Empire, seeing the growing expatriate communities take increas-
ing control over the Ottoman export market. This process accelerated through the
18th and 19th centuries whereby the European states began to grant citizenship to
particular non-Muslim groups within the Empire under the auspices of these trea-
ties. This broadened out further as the European powers, as well as Russia, claimed
the right of protection over particular non-Muslim communities throughout the
Empire. As such, the sovereignty of the Sultan over his subjects was steadily eroding
whilst the economy of the Empire became increasingly dependent on governments
in Europe and their protected representatives within the Empire.
In response, the Empire sought to implement economic reforms that would
counter this trend. The logic behind the first foreign loans was two-fold: to finance
immediate war efforts, particularly in the Crimea, and to foster development that
would lead to greater revenues in the future. However, the continuation of hostili-
ties, lack of spending and the intent of foreign powers to gain greater control over
the Ottoman economy led to the failure of these efforts to reform the Ottoman
financial system. This was further hindered by the territorial scope of the Empire,
making it difficult to implement consistent taxation collection, combined with the
increasing economic dependency on European industry and manufactured goods
(Kasaba, 1988).
Economic stagnation saw the Ottomans default on their mounting debts
to Europe, leading to the creation of the Ottoman Public Debt Administration
(OPDA) in 1881. The OPDA was a large organisation, employing over 5000 staff,
which was created and controlled by European financial institutions that would
manage Ottoman state revenues in exchange for the forgiveness of half of the
Ottoman debt and a renegotiation of the remaining liability. The OPDA had enor-
mous powers, including the right to collect tax revenue and distribute this to the
financers of Ottoman debt, as well as funding development projects. It was run
by representatives from Britain, France, the Netherlands, Italy, Austria–Hungary,
Germany and a member from the Ottoman private sector.
The Ottoman government was represented on the council, but did not have
voting rights. Whilst there was some streamlining of the collection of taxes and
spending on development projects, the creation of the OPDA essentially deprived
the Empire of an independent source of revenue, leaving it at the mercy of the
powers that controlled the OPDA leadership committee. This created a cycle of
dependency whereby European states and financial institutions continued to lend
to the Empire, backed by OPDA guarantees, and the Empire was left in greater
debt and with greater reliance on the OPDA and its backers.
This was compounded by the terms of trade between the Empire and Europe
that were heavily weighted in favour of the Europeans as the Ottomans almost
exclusively exported agricultural products and relied on imports of manufactured
items. The Ottoman government and, later, the OPDA did implement some
development projects. However, such was the dominance of Europe economically
that Ottoman industrial development would never have advanced sufficiently to
alter this situation. Indeed, the fact that the Ottoman economy was controlled
by Europe through the OPDA in its latter years effectively prevented this from
happening. As such, the situation of economic dependency of the region on Europe

was established at this time, and was deeply embedded in the political structures
of the region. It also fostered a deep sense of resentment towards the European
powers, coupled with a desire for independent economic advancement across the
Middle East (Kasaba, 1988).
The European powers, informally at first, dealt with the Christian subjects of
the Ottoman Empire in the establishment of trade relationships. In particular, the
use of Ottoman Christian intermediaries greatly enhanced the economic power
of these groups within the Empire. This position was enhanced as they were able
to gain tax exemptions because of their connections to the increasingly powerful
European markets, enabling them to sell their goods at a cheaper rate than Muslim
merchants.
By the late 19th century, a seemingly contradictory political situation prevailed
where the Ottoman Empire itself was highly fragile and dependent on European
support. However, the size of state institutions had expanded significantly as well
as the roles they sought to fulfil. This was particularly so in terms of the army and
intelligence services. This fragile, highly militarised and paranoid form of state rule
would be replicated across the region on independence. These patterns also set and
amplified tensions across the region, particularly in terms of religious identification
and tension between land-owning elites and the peasantry. In terms of religious
identity, the late Ottoman Empire sought to monopolise control over the religious
authorities across the remainder of the Empire during the late 19th and early 20th
centuries. This was a move against the traditional structure of the millet system
where authority was delegated through local religious leaders.
Conclusion
The Ottoman Empire’s legacy is still a point of intense debate. However, the
importance of this period is undeniable. Whilst centralised and bureaucratic rule,
the role of the military in politics, economic dependence on Europe and the antag-
onism this created, cultural influence and consequent resentment, and external
infiltration are not exclusive to the Middle East, the specifics of Ottoman rule and
the intensity of European engagement with the people of the Middle East com-
bined with these factors to give this area a particular form. Indeed, many of the
core issues that continue to shape Middle Eastern politics grew from this period,
and became increasingly salient with the collapse of the Ottoman Empire, the
imposition of colonial rule across the region and the subsequent emergence of the
regional state system.
Study Questions
♦♦ In what ways has the Middle East’s religious heritage impacted on its political
development?
♦♦ What factors have impacted on the formation of identities in the pre-colonial
Middle East?
♦♦ Did the structures of Ottoman rule, particularly that of the Sultan and the Grand
Vizier, create a legacy of personalised rule in the Middle East?
♦♦ In what ways did the tanzimat reforms, particularly administrative centralisation,
ultimately undermine Ottoman authority?
♦♦ How did the role of the military change during the latter years of the Ottoman
Empire and in what ways did this impact on the political trajectory of the Middle
East?
♦♦ How did economic dependency feed into dynamics of resentment and emula-
tion that shaped emerging political ideologies and rhetoric in the Middle East?
Further Reading
Dale, Stephen (2010) The Muslim Empires of the Ottomans, Safavids, and Mughals.
Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
An inclusive and detailed overview of three major Muslim empires who were semi-
nal in shaping the relationship between Islam and politics.
Gerber, Haim (2010) State and Society in the Ottoman Empire. Farnham: Ashgate.
An examination of the interplay between the socioeconomic history of Turkish
society, the tanzimat and the development of Turkish and Arab nationalist identi-
ties in the late Ottoman Empire.
Hanioğlu, M. Şükrü (2008) A Brief History of the Late Ottoman Empire. Princeton,
NJ: Princeton University Press.
Focused on broad themes relating to local trends and the interplay with global
forces, this volume unpacks the emerging trends in the late Ottoman Empire and
its legacies for the modern Middle East.
Kayali, Hasan (1997) Arab and Young Turks: Ottomanism, Arabism, and Islamism in
the Ottoman Empire. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press.
Through exploring the relationship between various communities and central
authority in the Ottoman Empire, this volume provides critical insights into emerg-
ing political forces in the Middle East.
Shaw, Stanford J. (1977) History of the Ottoman Empire and Modern Turkey.
A seminal work on the transition from Ottoman to Republican rule in Turkey

forming the basis of the modern state of Turkey.
Go to https://study.sagepub.com/macqueen2e for further material including free

journal articles and links to other relevant documents.
References
Ágoston, Gábor and Masters, Bruce (2009) Encyclopedia of the Ottoman Empire.
New York: Facts on File.
Allen Butler, Daniel (2011) Shadow of the Sultan’s Realm: The Destruction of the
Ottoman Empire and the Creation of the Modern Middle East. Dulles, VA: Potomac
Books.
Barakat, Halim (1993) The Arab World: Society, Culture, and State. Berkeley, CA:
University of California Press.
Bayme, Steven (1997) Understanding Jewish History: Text and Commentaries. New
York: Ktav Publishing.
Cleveland, William L. and Bunton, Martin (2009) A History of the Modern Middle
East, 4th edn. Boulder, CO: Westview Press.
Dawisha, Adeed (2003) Arab Nationalism in the Twentieth Century: From Triumph
to Despair. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press.
Esposito, John L. (ed.) (1999) The Oxford History of Islam. Oxford: Oxford
University Press.
Evered, Emine (2012) Empire and Education Under the Ottomans: Politics, Reform
and Resistance from the Tanzimat to the Young Turks. London: I.B. Tauris.
Finkel, Caroline (2007) Osman’s Dream: The History of the Ottoman Empire. New
York: Basic Books.
Guillarme, Alfred (1967) The Life of Muhammad: A Translation of Ibn Ishaq’s Sirat
Rasul Allah. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Kasaba, Reşat (1988) The Ottoman Empire and the World Economy: The Nineteenth
Century. Albany, NY: State University of New York Press.
Kayali, Hasan (1997) Arab and Young Turks: Ottomanism, Arabism, and Islamism in
the Ottoman Empire. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press.
Lapidus, Ira M. (2002) A History of Islamic Societies. Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press.
Palmer, Alan (2011) The Decline and Fall of the Ottoman Empire. London: Faber &
Faber.
Quataert, Donald (2007) The Ottoman Empire, 1700–1922. Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press.
2
The Colonial
Period in
the Middle East
Learning Objectives
♦♦ The interplay between the Ottoman and the colonial periods and how they impacted
on the modern Middle East.
♦♦ The origins of the state system of the Middle East, particularly in terms of patterns
of centralised rule, new political institutions and elites and the role of religion in
politics.
♦♦ The formation of political discourse in the Middle East, with particular reference to
its relationship with the outside world.
♦♦ The cultural challenge of colonialism and how this affected political and social life
within the Middle East.
♦♦ The sources of current issues in Middle Eastern politics, with particular emphasis on
the question of dependency and the sources of the Arab–Israeli conflict.
TIMELINE
1 July 1798: Napoleon’s landing in 8 March 1919–22 February 1922:

Egypt The Egyptian Revolution
5 January 1820: The General Treaty 10 June–21 July 1919: The King–
of Peace establishing British Crane Commission
dominance in the Persian Gulf
28 June 1919: Treaty of Versailles
5 July 1830: Establishment of
French rule in Algeria 10 August 1920: Treaty of Sèvres
16 November 1869: The opening of 11 July 1921: Establishment of the

the Suez Canal Emirate of Transjordan
13 June–13 July 1878: Congress 23 August 1921: Establishment

of Berlin of the British Mandate of
Mesopotamia (Iraq)
12 May 1881: Establishment of the
French Protectorate of Tunisia 3 June 1922: The 1922 (Churchill)
White Paper
13 July 1882: Establishment of
British rule in Egypt after the 24 July 1923: Treaty of Lausanne
Battle of Tel el-Kebir 26 September 1923: Establishment
30 March 1912: Establishment of the of the British Mandate of
French Protectorate of Morocco Palestine
18 October 1912: Establishment of 29 September 1923: Establishment

an Italian colony in Libya of the French Mandate of Syria
and the Lebanon
14 July 1915–30 January 1916:
The Hussein–McMahon 29 October 1923: Establishment of
Correspondence the Republic of Turkey
9 May 1916: The Sykes–Picot 15 April 1936–30 September 1939:

Agreement The Arab Revolt in Palestine
2 November 1917: The Balfour 11 November 1936–18 January

Declaration 1937: The Peel Commission
(Palestine Royal Commission)
7 November 1918: The Anglo–
French Declaration 17 May 1939: The 1939 (MacDonald)
White Paper
Introduction
Since we have now seen how the Ottoman period left important legacies for the
political landscape of the region, we can grasp the impacts of the colonial period
on the formation of the modern Middle East. Ottoman legacies intertwined with
The Colonial Period in the Middle East 29
patterns of colonial authority as well as local forms of political organisation in

shaping the modern Middle East. A variety of approaches to colonial rule were
employed, from attempts to formally annex parts of the region into European
states themselves, to the use of proxy local leaders as a vehicle for European dom-
ination, through to a focus on economic control. In sum, patterns of colonial
rule were not uniform, yet centred on enforcing external control on the region.
An examination of the colonial period and the interplay between Ottoman and
colonial legacies will allow us to explore the multifaceted nature of modern state
formation in the Middle East, highlighting factors that contributed to the estab-
lishment of authoritarian governments, patterns of economic dependency and
political tension with Western states, as well as the emergence of specific issues
such as the Arab–Israeli conflict.
The Dawn of European Colonialism in the Middle East

European presence was first felt before the collapse of the Ottoman Empire with
the landing of Napoleon’s army in Egypt in 1798. Whilst this was a short-lived
venture, it showed the ease with which Europe could subvert Ottoman author-
ity, and symbolised the shifting global balance of power towards the Europeans
and away from the Ottomans from the 15th to the 19th century. Through the
Ottoman’s western frontier in the Balkans, European sponsorship assisted Serbian
(1830) and Greek (1832) independence, with the 1878 Congress of Berlin leading
to Romanian (1878), Montenegrin (1878) and Bulgarian (1908) independence, as
well as British control over Cyprus and Austrian control over Bosnia. The Congress
of Berlin also formalised the dependent status of the Ottoman Empire in the eyes
of the Europeans. The rapid loss of territory fed into Ottoman motivations for
supporting Germany in World War I.
However, prior to World War I, the colonial process was well under way. In the
early cases of colonial intervention primarily in the former Ottoman territories in
North Africa, we can see the implementation of distinct forms of colonial rule, each
of which would impact their societies in particular ways. In Algeria, French rule saw
an effort to implement what was termed ‘total colonisation’, including the incor-
poration of Algerian territory into France, widespread displacement of the local
population and the settlement of large numbers of Europeans in Algerian territory.
In Tunisia, a much more limited form of colonialism was implemented, with French
authority focused on ruling through local proxies and extracting resources. Finally,
British rule in Egypt did not seek the official annexation of territory as happened
in Algeria, but presented a different form of deep colonial experience, particularly
in terms of the cultural impacts on the local population.
‘Total Colonisation’ in Algeria

The first colony established by the French in the region came in the North African
territory of Algeria in 1830. The French colony of Algeria would represent a par-
ticular type of colonial process, one that still marks the country today. Between
1830 and 1870, the French limited their authority in Algeria to the urban areas and
operated largely through existing authorities. Whilst colonial authority was limited
to the main urban areas of Oran in the west, Algiers in the centre and Constantine
in the east, the French also implemented a policy of land acquisition in the main
agricultural producing areas of the Tellian (‘Inner’) Atlas Mountains, displacing the
indigenous Arab and Berber (Amazigh) communities to less fertile regions. This
resulted in major food shortages and outbreaks of disease that saw the indigenous
population decline by over one-third from 1830 to 1870 (Sessions, 2011).
French colonialism in Algeria also led to a major rupture in the Algerian social
fabric, including the collapse of the local economy and the education system, and
a systematic dismemberment of local cultural traditions. In addition, the French
sponsored the migration of large numbers of Europeans to Algeria. These migrants
were settled in the lands of dispossessed Algerians. The majority of these migrants
came from the poorer regions of southern France, as well as a smaller number from
Spain and Italy. By the end of the 19th century, this community, known colloquially
as the pieds noirs (‘black feet’), grew to several hundred thousand and dominated all
aspects of Algerian political and economic life, whilst its members were granted full
French citizenship (Evans, 2012).
Beyond Colonisation in Algeria

Whilst the French initially limited their colonial presence in Algeria, early resistance,
such as Àbd al-Qadir’s uprising in the west, combined with changing priorities in
Paris, saw the implementation of what came to be known as a policy of ‘total coloni-
sation’ by 1870. This new approach amplified many of the policies mentioned above,
with the logic being an effort to incorporate Algeria as part of the French metropole.
The French General Raoul Salan encapsulated this notion of Algérie Français when
he declared on the eve of the outbreak of the Algerian War for Independence in
1954 that ‘the Mediterranean runs through France as the Seine runs through Paris’
(cited in Andrew, 1981: 35).
The connection between Algeria and France not only included colonial domi-
nation and the settlement of Europeans in North Africa but also the migration of
large numbers of Algerians, both Arab and Amazigh (Berber), to France. It was
this community, working in large numbers in the French manufacturing industry,
who first began to agitate for Algerian independence. In particular, the service of
many Algerians in the French army during World Wars I and II, the pivotal role
of Algerian migrant workers in French trade unions, and the lack of representation
for Algerians in the French parliament (despite the formal inclusion of Algeria
into France) saw the crystallisation of an Algerian nationalist sentiment largely
distinct from the broader Arab nationalist sentiment that emerged throughout the
early 20th century.
In this regard, the colonial process in Algeria was unique compared to the rest of
the Arab world. This is not to say that the colonial period did not have profound
impacts across the region. However, the specific model employed by the French,
that of seeking to incorporate the very territory of Algeria into France proper, was
distinct from other policies. The symbolism of this would feed directly into the
emergence of the Algerian nationalist opposition in the early 20th century, particu-
larly amongst the working-class Algerian émigrés in France who would act as the
core of the early anti-colonial movement (Silverstein, 2004). In addition to the par-
ticular type of colonial practice in Algeria pursued by the French, the sheer length
of the colonial experience here was unprecedented. Whilst the uprising that over-
threw French rule will be discussed later, French domination of Algeria lasted 132
years, from 1830 to 1962, only to be ended through a bloody revolutionary uprising
that had deep ramifications not only for Algeria but also within France itself.
Economic Domination in Tunisia

The French Protectorate in Tunisia presented a markedly different model of colo-
nialism to that of Algeria. Specifically, it represented an effort to ensure commercial
interests in the Mediterranean whilst maintaining the semblance of Tunisian
autonomy. This autonomy was undermined, however, by effective French control
via the French Resident-General who controlled the Tunisian economy and armed
forces. The French presence in Tunisia began with the 1878 Congress of Berlin
where the French negotiated for control over Tunisia in exchange for British con-
trol over Cyprus. This was initially opposed by various groups in the country, a
resistance that was broken after an incursion of tribal forces into Algeria in 1881.
The French, who considered this a violation of French territorial integrity,
used it as a pretext for the imposition of French control, establishing Tunisia as a
French ‘protectorate’. This came on the back of the pre-existing French presence
in Tunisia as a result of the declaration of bankruptcy in 1869 by the administra-
tion of Muhammad III as-Sadiq. Muhammad III ruled with nominal Ottoman
authority as the bey (governor), but had exercised effective independence since the
mid-19th century. This led to the imposition of a French-controlled international
commission that took charge of the Tunisian economy.
French control was formalised in 1883 with the La Marsa Convention, which
bound the bey to implement policies dictated by Paris. This formalised the role of
the Resident-General, permitting the office holder to issue executive orders inde-
pendent of consultation with the Tunisian authorities that were bound to execute
them. As such, whilst the French left the pre-existing institutions intact, they posi-
tioned them as conduits for French policy priorities. In this process, they were
effective at co-opting local elites to act as proxies for French interests, ensuring they
received income and other benefits. These elites were receptive to this, as the dire
state of the Tunisian economy prior to the arrival of the French had threatened to
upset the established political, social and economic order.
Also, in contrast to the colonial policy in Algeria, the French invested in the
Tunisian education system, encouraging the participation of locals in the acquisi-
tion of French language and other disciplines that would enable them to staff the
French-controlled civil service. This policy only had limited success, leaving the
majority of Tunisians without access to state employment. However, an educated
local elite with an investment in the new administration of the Protectorate did help
mitigate the emergence of popular movements seeking to overthrow French domi-
nation through to World War II. It was only following the end of World War II,
and the consolidation of opposition behind the ‘pragmatic’ leadership of Habib
Bourguiba and the Neo-Destour Party, that Tunisia moved towards independence
by the mid-20th century (Perkins, 1986: 180).
Culture, Politics and British Rule in Egypt

In contrast, initial British colonial intervention in the Middle East was not premised
on control of the region per se, but control of strategic points to facilitate contact
with their vast colonial holdings in India. Central to this was Egypt, particularly
after the completion of the Suez Canal in 1869. Construction of the canal began in
1858 by a French-owned company with the permission of Muhammad Àli’s suc-
cessor Saìd Pasha. Using largely local labour, and working under initial opposition
from the British who saw the French role as a threat to their maritime dominance,
construction was completed in 1868, with the canal opening in November 1869.
Whilst the opening of the canal was hailed as a success, its cost saw the Egyptian
administration accumulate large debts to European banks, debts it sought to service
through Saìd Pasha’s successor, Ismail Pasha, raising taxes on Egypt’s nascent but
growing middle classes (Wright, 2010).
Islamist and liberalist blocs, represented by contemporary forms of the Wafd and the
Muslim Brotherhood, would be the largest groups competing in the 2011 Egyptian
legislative elections, the first after the fall of President Hosni Mubarak in the wake of the
25 January uprising. This will be discussed in Chapter 9.
As Ismail’s government was not able to service the debt, and he was wary of the
effects an increased taxation regime was having on the stability of his government,
he sold the Egyptian government’s share to the British in 1875. This allowed the
British to exercise further control over the canal and, by extension, Egypt itself in
the late 19th century.
Egypt’s ‘New’ Opposition: Liberals and the Wafd

These developments led to the formation of the first ‘modern’ opposition move-
ments in Egypt under Ottoman General Ahmed Urabi. In 1879, Urabi formed
the Egyptian Nationalist Party in opposition to the exclusion of peasants from the
officer corps by Ismail Pasha’s successor, Tewfik Pasha. This was tied to a broader
narrative resisting foreign domination of the Egyptian economy, foreign control
over the Suez Canal and broader patterns of European imperialism. Urabi eventu-
ally gained control over the Egyptian army and launched a rebellion against Tewfik
and the increasingly tight British control over Egypt. This, along with the legacy of
the army as a modernising force under the rule of Muhammad Àli, enshrined this
institution as the vehicle for change, and gave it an esteemed place within Egyptian
political life through to the early 21st century (Cleveland and Bunton, 2009: 74).
Urabi and his supporters began planning for the installation of a new parlia-
ment that would limit the power of the khedive, or viceroy, and install the leader of
the rebellion as Prime Minister. In response, Tewfik called for Ottoman support.
When the Ottomans, who were still the nominal rulers of Egypt, hesitated, the
British and the French took action against the nationalist forces. After an initial
defeat, the British siezed the Suez Canal and, later, Cairo, imposing their author-
ity over Egypt by the end of 1882. The British then reinstalled Tewfik as khedive
under British control.
The de facto nature of British authority in Egypt does not discount the extent
of British colonial policy in Egypt. This was more akin to the policy in India than,
for instance, French colonial activity in Tunisia. After 1882, the British formalised
their influence with the establishment of the position of Consul-General, a repre-
sentative of the British crown who effectively ruled through the khedive. In effect,
the Consul-General wielded ultimate power in Egypt backed up by British mili-
tary might. Through the ‘Organic Law’ (1883–1913), a two-chamber parliament
was established. However, this operated in an advisory capacity only, with ultimate
decision-making left to the British and the Consul-General (Powell, 2003).
In this context, various political trends began to crystallise that mirrored the
development of local political trends across the region. These focused on three
broad themes: secular liberalism, religious revivalism and nationalism. These were
not discrete ideologies; each borrowed ideas, rhetoric and strategy from the other.
Egypt’s liberal movement drew from the political and economic elites, particularly
segments of the land-owning class and urban intellectuals. As such, where the
large landowners had been mixed in their attitudes to the reforms of Muhammad
Àli’s rule, this continued under the British. Here, a core of elite large landowners
supported British rule as a means of retaining their control over Egypt’s critical
agricultural sector, a stance opposed by smaller and some large landowners who
favoured greater autonomy or independence. This group would form the core of
the Wafd (‘Delegation’) Party, a movement that called for the end of the British
occupation and was the most potent force in Egyptian politics from World War I
through to the end of World War II (Deeb, 1979).
The Wafd ’s high point, it may be argued, was during the 1919 Revolution. Hopes
for independence across the region grew during World War I, particularly as many
colonial communities participated in the war effort. Egypt served as a base for
British activity against the Ottomans and hundreds of thousands of Egyptians
served as labourers for the British army. However, the lack of action on Egyptian
independence at the end of the war led to a wave of popular unrest. The Wafd were
central to this process, leading a delegation to the postwar negotiations as well as
organising petitions and other measures in support of independence.
In response, the British arrested Wafd leader Saad Zaghlul, prompting the erup-
tion of civil unrest across Egypt that included a cross-section of Egyptian society.
In response, the British offered qualified independence, in which they would retain
effective control over Egypt’s security and foreign policy. Wafd acceptance of this
would see Zaghlul form the first independent Egyptian government in 1924, but
also undermine the popularity of the party who were increasingly viewed as a front
for continued British domination.
Egypt’s ‘New’ Opposition: The Muslim Brotherhood

The other important source of opposition to the British in Egypt at this time was
the Muslim Brotherhood. Whilst this movement will be dealt with in greater detail
in Chapter 4, their genesis reflects an important part of the Egyptian colonial expe-
rience. The movement was founded in 1928 by schoolteacher Hasan al-Banna in
the city of Ismailia in the Suez Canal region. This area witnessed the most con-
centrated presence of British forces in Egypt. As such, the impacts of British
political, economic and cultural domination were felt sharply. Al-Banna articulated
his opposition to British rule differently from the Wafd Party in calling for the
implementation of shariàh law as a means to subvert British domination. This mes-
sage reflected a particular interpretation of colonial dominance in Egypt, one that
sought to counter the British vision of a superior Western culture bringing a ‘back-
ward’ Islamic culture into the modern era.
This cultural challenge will be discussed in detail below; however, its reso-
nance here is critical for understanding the impacts of this form of colonialism
on political discourse in the Middle East. In particular, where the Wafd and others
sought to achieve independence for Egypt based on a liberal ideology, the Muslim
Brotherhood accused these groups of essentially reinforcing European domination.
This was not merely recourse to religious law as a retreat to some idealised past,
however.
The Muslim Brotherhood established branches across the Middle East and North Africa
after 1928, as well as having offices in a number of states in the West. The Muslim
Brotherhood branch in the Mandate of Palestine and, later, the Occupied Territories,
reformed as the ‘Islamic Resistance Movement’, or Hamas, in 1987.
Instead, al-Banna and his contemporaries used Islamic discourse, such that appealed
to the majority of Egyptians, as a means to criticise the actions of foreign compa-
nies and their government sponsors in the exploitation of Egyptian workers, with
particular reference to their role in the construction and maintenance of the Suez
Canal. The canal was vital to the maintenance of the British commercial empire,
yet relied on what the Brotherhood saw as the sweat and blood of Egyptian work-
ers. This ideology was fused with a range of other ideological messages rooted in
Islamic doctrine, from the importance of charity to socially conservative views on
gender rights (Mitchell, 1993).
Colonialism and Independence in the Gulf

Further east, this diversity of European intervention was also on display, from the
British establishing a formalised colony in South Yemen, around the port city of
Aden, in 1886, to forms of protectorate in the Gulf from the early 19th century,
and resistance to this in the territories that would become Saudi Arabia. In this
regard, the Arabian Peninsula had become largely peripheral to the politics of the
region by the 19th century, despite its religious centrality for Muslims. Here, the
Ottomans served as custodians of the Holy Cities in the Hijaz (Mecca and Medina)
through the authority of local notables, particularly the Hashemite descendants of
the Prophet Muhammad.
However, outside these centres, the peninsula was ruled by tribally-based
confederations tied together through political allegiances and religious affilia-
tion. The most notable of these groups were the al-Saud family who had linked
themselves to the teachings of the 18th-century religious figure Ibn àbd al-
Wahhab. The Wahhabi/Saudi alliance would emerge from the northern portion
of the peninsula to establish itself as the pre-eminent force on the peninsula by
the early 20th century. Here, the links between religion and state were strong
in Oman and the fledgling Saudi state whilst kinship ties dominated in the
Sheikhdoms of the Gulf and Yemen. The political units in the Gulf would form
the basis of the British colonies and subsequent states that would succeed them
in the 20th century. Perhaps only Yemen exhibited tendencies towards a clear
state structure with deep historic roots of independence and a clear territorial
definition, particularly in the north under the Shià Zaydi dynasty, which ruled
from 893 to 1962. However, the growth of modern political ideologies did not
permeate the peninsula until after independence, with political organisation pre-
dominantly based on these more ‘traditional’ forms of organisation up to this
point (Davidson, 2012).
SAUDI ARABIA 1923 0 Kilometres 500
0 Miles 300
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Dependencies 1921–1927
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Ar Rass fH
1916 it o
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192
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Medina
HASA
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Yanbu 9 Al Kharj
−1
18
19
HIJAZ Liwa
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1916 Al Urug al
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EGYPTIAN
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ANGLO-
SUDAN
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At 1924
Ta’if
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Tathlith Rub’ Al Khali
Port Sudan (The Empty Quarter)
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Ibn Saud Territory
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Abha
Faysal’s Army 1916−18 Najran
Sharurah
Husayn’s Army defeat Jizan Salalah
Sa’da
Neutral Zones 1922−70
Independant Idrisi
Btitish Protectorates Sheikdom 1917–23
Desert/Sand sea San’a Gulf of
Saltpan/Sabkha Oman
Al-Hudayda
Figure 2.1 The expansion of Saudi rule during the early 20th century
Source: Universal Mapping Pty Ltd
World War I and Turkey

The British presence in the Levant and in the Arabian Peninsula would be at
the root of some of the most problematic issues facing the modern Middle East.
This centred on the British Mandate in Palestine and the role of the British in the
Arab Revolt during World War I. During the war, the British were active in the
Arabian Peninsula and the Levant in agitating anti-Ottoman sentiment amongst
Arab elites. This agitation was based on appeals to Arab national identity led by
British agent T.E. Lawrence who sought to promote Arab unity under the leader-
ship of the Hashemites, the custodians of the Holy Cities during the latter period
of the Ottoman Empire and descendants of the Prophet Muhammad. However,
the release of details of the 1916 Sykes–Picot Agreement and the 1917 Balfour
Declaration alongside the Hussein–McMahon Correspondence highlighted the
contradictory promises that Britain was pursuing in the region. The subsequent
division of the region into a series of separate states based on their colonial iden-
tities would lie at the root of much of the opposition that would develop in the
Middle East, particularly the Arab Middle East, during the colonial period.
The following section will outline British and French activity in the Levant dur-
ing and after World War I, with a particular focus on how the British and French
began to shift from an effort to maintain a semblance of Ottoman territorial integrity
to planning for a post-Ottoman Middle East that would ensure their own interests.
The British took the lead in developing a set of policies that sought to foster alli-
ances within the Arab world, also with the growing Jewish migrant community in
the territory known as Palestine, as well as acting in their own direct interests. The
contradictory nature of these policies would foster resentments that persist to today.
he Arab Revolt and the Hussein–McMahon

T
Correspondence
As noted in Chapter 1, the growth of an Arab nationalist sentiment had accelerated
throughout the 19th century in opposition to the hardening of Turkish national
identity primarily through the Young Turk movement. Despite this, a nationalist
movement as such is hard to identify outside a number of urban elites and tra-
ditional leaders, many of whom sought greater autonomy within the Ottoman
Empire rather than full independence. This is not to discount the importance of
these figures, who ranged from traditional tribal leaders to urban intellectuals, art-
ists and early trade union figures. However, low literacy rates and the fluctuating
political atmosphere hindered this nationalist sentiment permeating beyond the
elite levels of society.
Text of a letter from Sir Henry McMahon to Sherif Hussein on 24 October 1915:
The districts of Mersin and Alexandretta, and portions of Syria lying to the west
of the districts of Damascus, Homs, Hama and Aleppo, cannot be said to be
purely Arab, and must on that account be excepted from the proposed delimita-
tion. Subject to that modification, and without prejudice to the treaties concluded
between us and certain Arab Chiefs, we accept that delimitation. As for the
regions lying within the proposed frontiers, in which Great Britain is free to act
without detriment to interests of her ally France, I am authorised to give you the
following pledges on behalf of the Government of Great Britain, and to reply as
follows to your note: That subject to the modifications stated above, Great Britain
is prepared to recognise and uphold the independence of the Arabs in all the
regions lying within the frontiers proposed by the Sherif of Mecca.
The Ottoman entry into World War I saw the arrest of many Arab nationalist lead-
ers who were accused of collaboration with the British and French. In response, the
custodian of the Holy Cities of Mecca and Medina, the Hashemite Sherif Hussein
bin Ali, began a correspondence with the then British High Commissioner in
Egypt, Sir Henry McMahon. An exchange of letters from July 1915 to January
1916 between Hussein and McMahon led to an agreement in June 1916 (the
Damascus Protocol) where the British would cooperate with Hussein’s Arab forces
to overthrow Ottoman rule in exchange for British sponsorship of Arab indepen-
dence (Pappé, 2006: 61–70).
Attacks against the Ottoman forces in Mecca and Medina began soon after,
launching the Arab Revolt. The revolt involved coordination with British and French
armed forces, with the close involvement of a number of officers such as Colonel
Cyril Wilson and T.E. Lawrence from the British side and Captain Muhammad
Raho from the French. In addition, the British drew on the local knowledge of
scholars such as Gertrude Bell in establishing contacts across the region. The revolt
continued until the defeat of the Ottomans at the end of World War I, raising
hopes for the fulfilment of the vision outlined by McMahon for British sponsorship
of a large, independent Arab state in the Levant and the western Arabian Peninsula.
However, other factors would emerge to complicate this vision.
Balfour Declaration
In November 1917, British Foreign Secretary Sir Arthur James Balfour issued a
communiqué to Baron Lionel Walter Rothschild, a prominent British financier,
supporting the creation ‘in Palestine of a national home for the Jewish people’.
Issued from the office of the Foreign Secretary, the Balfour Declaration, as it has
come to be known, was viewed as reflective of official British government policy in
support of the cause of Zionism. Whilst Zionism will be discussed in detail below,
it can be broadly understood as the movement for the re-establishment of Jewish
life on a national basis.
This caused great antagonism amongst those involved in the Arab Revolt, as
it appeared to run directly contrary to the sentiments expressed in the Hussein–
McMahon Correspondence and the subsequent Anglo–French Declaration in
1919. Indeed, the issue of Jewish migration to the Ottoman territory of Palestine
had already become one of great controversy for the largely Arab population in this
area. The policy of aliyah, or migration to the territory of Palestine, had been active
since 1882, sponsored by European Zionist organisations. In 1914, an estimated 8%
of the roughly 800,000 residents of the area were Jewish, a proportion that grew to
an estimated 30% of the community by 1941 (Morris, 2009).
Text of the Balfour Declaration (2 November 1917)

Dear Lord Rothschild,
I have much pleasure in conveying to you, on behalf of His Majesty’s Government,

the following declaration of sympathy with Jewish Zionist aspirations which has
been submitted to, and approved by, the Cabinet.
‘His Majesty’s Government view with favour the establishment in Palestine of a

national home for the Jewish people, and will use their best endeavours to facili-
tate the achievement of the object, it being clearly understood that nothing shall
be done which may prejudice the civil and religious rights of existing non-Jewish
communities in Palestine, or the rights and political status enjoyed by Jews in
any other country’.
I should be grateful if you would bring this declaration to the knowledge of the
Zionist Federation.
Yours sincerely,
Arthur James Balfour
Whilst this issue will be explored in detail below, it is important to note the
timing of the declaration and the environment in which it was received, particu-
larly amongst the Arab communities in the Levant. As European domination was
formalised with the end of World War I, there was little clarity as to the intentions
of these powers. This fostered widespread suspicion and overt hostility to this
external influence, a factor that impacted deeply on the political rhetoric of the
time, and became a tool that local political elites would use with great effect both
prior to and after independence.
Sykes–Picot Agreement
Confirming these sentiments, secret negotiations between a British delegation led
by diplomat Sir Mark Sykes and a French delegation led by diplomat François
Georges-Picot, concluded on 16 May 1916, would largely define the political map
of the modern Middle East. This negotiation, that came to be known as the Sykes–
Picot Agreement, formally divided the eastern Arab world into spheres of British
and French influence, contradicting the British position of sponsoring Arab inde-
pendence in this area as outlined in the Hussein–McMahon Correspondence. It
granted the French direct control over the eastern Mediterranean coast, including
all of current-day Lebanon, the coastal region of Syria and a portion of southern
Turkey with the hinterland region, the rest of modern-day Syria, to be under a
French sphere of influence. The British gained ‘direct control’ over the southern
portions of today’s Iraq with a broader sphere of influence that ran from the coastal
areas between Lebanon and Egypt, over the Jordan River, through to Baghdad and
Kirkuk.
Imperial Russia was a party to the original secret negotiations in an effort
to pursue their claims over Ottoman territory around the Black Sea Straits.
However, after the triumph of the Bolshevik Revolution in 1917, the new regime
in Moscow renounced all these claims. In addition, they released the details of
these hitherto secret negotiations in November 1917, causing a wave of anti-
European sentiment across the region. The Anglo–French Declaration released
12 months later would be a formalisation of this, stating that the British and
French sought to ‘assist in the establishment of indigenous Governments and
administrations in Syria and Mesopotamia which have already been liberated
by the Allies’.
The Hussein–McMahon Correspondence, the Balfour Declaration and the
Sykes–Picot Agreement all fed into a growing atmosphere of mistrust leading up
to the end of World War I. Whilst these actions sat at odds with one another, they
also confirmed the growing suspicion that the European powers had little intention
of granting any meaningful form of independence in postwar negotiations, fears
that would be confirmed in 1919.
BLUE ZONE
(direct French control)
‘A’ ZONE
(under French influence)
Damascus Baghdad
Sea Beirut
INTERNATIONAL ‘B’ ZONE

Amman (under British influence) RED ZONE
ZONE (direct British influence)
Jerusalem
Figure 2.2 The Sykes–Picot Agreement
he Versailles Treaty and the League of

T
Nations Mandates
The Versailles Treaty of June 1919 that ended World War I also saw the creation
of the League of Nations, an effort to create an international organisation to help
prevent another global conflict. The League was also given a range of other duties,
including what it called ‘just treatment of native inhabitants’, particularly for terri-
tories previously under control of those states defeated in World War I, including
the Ottoman Empire. Officially, the former Ottoman territories were deemed ‘Class
A Mandates’ at the subsequent San Remo Conference in 1920 where independence
would be supported ‘subject to the rendering of administrative advice and assistance
by a Mandatory until such time as they are able to stand alone’. In other words, the
independence of the Arab territories formally under Ottoman rule would be man-
aged by the European powers victorious in World War I. The arrangement for this
had been worked out previously, in the secret negotiations between Sykes and Picot.
In addition, whilst independence was pushed back further, the division of the
region was also formalised in five new entities. Britain administered the Mandate
of Mesopotamia from 1920 to 1932, before the creation of the Kingdom of Iraq,
as well as the Mandates of Palestine, from 1923 to 1948, and Transjordan, from
1921 to 1946. The relationship between these two Mandates is one of the many
debated issues around the British stance in relation to the independence of Israel,
discussed below. The French, adding to their extensive holdings in North Africa,
administered the Mandate of Syria from 1923 to 1944. This Mandate included the
territory of modern-day Lebanon that became a separate republic upon the end of
the Mandate in 1943.
During negotiations at the Versailles Peace Conference, Sherif Hussein
remained largely deferent in seeking to pursue the interests of Arab unity. It has
been contended that the British had assured Hussein that the promises of the
Hussein–McMahon Correspondence would be upheld, leading him to the conclu-
sion that intervention at these negotiations might have jeopardised promises for
his installation as king of an Arab state centred on the Hijaz and Levant. This cor-
responds with statements by British Prime Minister Lloyd George in 1919 that the
Hussein–McMahon Correspondence was a treaty, therefore the British were bound
to honour it (Tessler, 1994: 146). These statements, however, also worked to offset
pressure on Prince Faisal, Hussein’s son who served as representative of the Arabs
at post-World War I negotiations and was elected leader by the newly formed ‘Pan-
Syrian Congress’ that formed in Damascus in 1918 as a proxy government of the
envisioned new Arab state. The congress sought results from Faisal at the post-
war negotiations on independence as well as with respect to the apparent British
support for the creation of a Jewish state in Palestine. However, divergence over
how direct external authority should be imposed saw the French move to impose
themselves more directly by deposing the short-lived Pan-Syrian Congress and the
authority of Faisal.
The Republic of Turkey

Between 1911 and 1922, the Ottoman Empire was in an almost constant state
of warfare, with only 22 months of peace in this period, facing internal insurrec-
tions and external threats. The final Ottoman defeat came in 1918, leading to the
removal of the Sultan and the installation of the Grand National Assembly that
ruled during the transition to the establishment of the Republic of Turkey in 1923
with Mustafa Kemal ‘Atatürk’ as Head of State. However, this transition was a
tumultuous process, and one that would lay the foundations for the modern Turkish
republic as well as witnessing a number of deeply controversial events.
The 1920 Treaty of Sèvres was the initial postwar settlement dealing with
the Ottoman Empire, in conjunction with the aforementioned 1920 San Remo
Conference. In sum, the treaty sought the full partition of the Ottoman Empire,
including the creation of an Armenian state in the northeast, an autonomous

Kurdish area under joint British and French supervision in the southeast, Italian
influence in southern Anatolia and Greek annexation of a number of territories in
eastern Anatolia and north of Istanbul, with British control over a demilitarised
area around the Black Sea Straits. Whilst the monarchy in Istanbul remained after
the war, and agreed to the terms of the treaty, Atatürk and his supporters under
the Turkish National Movement split from Istanbul and established a separate
authority in Ankara. Over the course of the next two years, Atatürk led a series of
campaigns that rolled back the areas of foreign occupation in the south. In addition,
Atatürk’s forces continued a campaign against the establishment of an independent
Armenian state in the northeast.
This campaign is a point of heated debate, not just amongst historians, but between
governments, with the Armenian community claiming that the Turkish forces
engaged in a campaign of genocide, leading to the death or forcible displacement of
up to 1.5 million Armenians from the future Turkish state. The Turkish government
continues to vehemently oppose this, arguing that the deaths were not part of an
official government policy (Dadrian, 1995). As a result of Atatürk’s campaign across
Anatolia, the new Turkish government signed the Treaty of Lausanne in July 1924.
The new constitution of the Republic officially abolished the Caliphate and the use
of the shariàh as the basis for the legal system. Whilst democracy was enshrined
in the constitution, the new Republic was effectively a one-party state under the
Revolutionary People’s Party (RPP), Atatürk and Prime Minister Ismet Inönü. At
the core of the new constitution were the ‘six principles’ of the new Republic.
The ‘Six Principles’ of the Turkish Republic

1. Republicanism; 2. Secularism; 3. Populism; 4. Nationalism; 5. Statism; 6. Reformism
The Turkish military have traditionally seen themselves as defenders of these ‘Principles
of Kemalism’. This led to military coups in 1960, 1971 and 1980, and the so-called
military memorandum in 1997 that bought down the sitting government of Necmettin
Erbakan. Most often, the military has acted in protection of the principle of secular-
ism. The election of the nominally Islamist Adalet ve Kalkinma Partisi (Justice and
Development Party, or AKP) in 2002 led to renewed debate on this principle.
Thus, Turkey emerged as a different political entity, and one that sought to avoid
involvement in any major military engagement, including opting for neutrality in
World War II. Turkey also avoided colonial rule. However, these campaigns, partic-
ularly the debate over the Armenian genocide, the status of ethnic minorities such
as the Kurds and the relationship of both religion and the military to the demo-
cratic system, in many ways defined Turkish politics throughout the 20th century.
Black Sea
Edirne
Samsun
Istanbul Trabzon
Çanakkale Bursa
Ankara Erzurum
Sivas
Aegean
Izmir Afyon
Sea Van
Konya Diyarbakir
Adana
Antalya
Partitioning of Anatolia
by the Treaty of Sèvres (1920)
International Zone of the Straits
British Zone Armenian Zone
French Zone Greek Zone
Mediterranean Sea Italian Zone
Modern Boundaries of Turkey
Figure 2.3 The allocations of the 1920 Treaty of Sèvres
Colonies, Protectorates and Client States

The most intense period of colonial activity took place between World War I
and World War II, with the division of the former Ottoman Arab territories. It
was here that the political map of the Middle East, the creation of the modern-
day states, was drawn and has remained largely unchanged to this day. In this
regard, the period of European colonialism was relatively short compared to, for
instance, sub-Saharan Africa or the British presence in India. Interestingly, French
Algeria, Italian Libya and Britain in the southern Yemeni city of Aden were the
only ‘official’ colonies. The logic behind this was that the European powers, whilst
easily intervening within the Empire, and occasionally taking portions of territory,
were concerned about the implications for regional stability should the Ottoman
Empire collapse. Therefore, they consciously maintained the territorial integrity of
the core of the Empire whilst at the same time taking control over the economy
of the region. Despite this short period of formalised rule, a particularly virulent
form of domination that permeated the political, social, economic and cultural
discourses of the region marked the colonial period. There was little ambiguity
in the reality of European domination of the region. As such, regardless of the
type of rule, it was the colonial power that dictated the political arrangements
across the region, be they monarchical or republican, centralised or decentralised,
secular or religious. This is not to say that there was no consultation with the local
population, many of whom were active participants in the colonial administration.
However, their participation worked to facilitate continued European political and
economic control.
The Interplay of Ottoman and Colonial Legacies

The most direct manifestation of European control was the territorial definition of
the new political entities, each of which would form the modern-day states of the
Middle East and North Africa. This was not purely artificial, with Ottoman poli-
cies of centralised bureaucracy around major urban areas as well as deeper historical
communities, helping to provide the logic for these new polities. This was notable
with respect to the relationship of Cairo, Damascus, Algiers and Tunis to their hin-
terland regions. Each entity exhibited particularities in its methods of rule, which
fed into specific political dynamics for each state. Amongst the Arab states, this laid
the groundwork for the tension between the broader Arab drive for unity and the
parochialisms of each regime.
In this way, the combination of Ottoman and colonial rule left a vast array of
social, political, cultural and economic legacies for the Middle East. The contem-
porary state system in the region captures many of these legacies. Whilst these
impacts may not be, in and of themselves, unique to the Middle East, their combi-
nation has given the contemporary Middle East a particular dynamic. For instance,
the modern Middle East is a region that is commonly perceived as conflict-prone,
unstable and unpredictable. In addition, it is one that has suffered immense colonial
impact. Whilst this may be true in some respects, the state system in the Middle
East has proven remarkably resilient. Indeed, where the ‘Arab Spring’ uprisings
from late 2010 presented the first real region-wide challenge to the established
political order since the independence era, most of those regimes that faced signifi-
cant uprisings remained in place or, in the case of Egypt, reasserted their authority.
Understanding this dynamic is essential to fully comprehending the environ-
ment in which the modern Middle East emerged. In particular, as Roger Owen
has argued, the creation of these colonial and pseudo-colonial entities rearranged
existing relationships and created new forms of organisation, identities and alle-
giances (Owen, 1992). This had not just political, but also social, cultural and
economical legacies. Specifically, efforts at creating centralised, highly bureaucratic
TURKEY
IRAN
SYRIA
(French)
LEBANON
(French) Damascus
Beirut Baghdad
Sea
PALESTINE IRAQ
(British) Amman
(British)
Jerusalem
TRANSJORDAN
(British)
EGYPT
SAUDI ARABIA
(from 1932)
Figure 2.4 The League of Nations Mandates
states also saw the emergence of largely hollow political institutions where there
was little, if any, separation between the state and the regime. Also, the emergence
of new political elites, often sponsored by European powers, was complemented
with efforts to control the religious institutions in each territory. Finally, economic
dependency and a permeating sense of cultural tension all fed into the political
environment that would emerge with the independence of the Middle Eastern
states in the 20th century.
Centralised Rule
Efforts at establishing centralised rule were a key feature of European activity in
the Middle East, building on the reforms of the late Ottoman period that gave key
urban centres a greater degree of control over their immediate hinterlands. As with
each of these processes, this was not uniform. For instance, more established centres
such as Algiers didn’t require significant administrative modification to form the
French colony and then the state of Algeria in 1964. Alternatively, new entities
were created as an amalgam of former Ottoman provinces, such as the extension of
the authority of Baghdad and Damascus over what would become Iraq in 1932 and
Syria in 1946, or the creation of new entities such as Amman’s administration of

what would become the state of Jordan in 1946 (Owen, 1992: 9). In each of these
entities, European powers sponsored the development of centralised bureaucracies
that often built on the framework of Ottoman rule, with a focus on the establish-
ment of security services and economies. Priority here was on the development of
state security services, primarily the armed forces, with little focus on the develop-
ment of public education systems, health services and the other state functions that
have traditionally been the drivers of integration (Owen, 1992: 10). This, combined
with the emerging narrative that criticised the very existence of these new entities
as artificial European creations, led these entities to increasingly exhibit tendencies
towards basing their rule increasingly on coercive means.
A Focus on Security
The reliance on state coercion would see the development of powerful security
services in many of the new states in the Middle East. It would be from these insti-
tutions that many of the successful challengers to European dominance, whether
the overthrow of direct European rule or the overthrow of proxy regimes, would
emerge in Egypt, Iraq, Syria and elsewhere. As Kamrava contends, the ‘very genesis
of most modern Middle Eastern states is traced back to the armed forces’ (Kamrava,
2000: 68), where this military heritage permeates most, if not all, aspects of the
current character of these states.
The military has ruled a large number of Middle Eastern states since independence.
In addition, it has been active in subverting the fragile political institutions through a
number of military coups, including: Iraq in 1933, 1937, 1949, 1952 and 1958; Syria
in 1949, 1954, 1961, 1963 and 1966; Egypt in 1952, 2011 and 2013; Turkey in 1960,
1971, 1980, 1993 and 1997; Algeria in 1965 and 1992; Libya in 1969; and Sudan in
1989. There have also been a number of unsuccessful coups throughout the region.
This will be discussed in more detail in Chapter 6.
In particular, most current regimes continue to rely, in one way or another, on the
institution of the military to buttress their rule, continuing to exist only through
trade-offs with the military, or serving as proxy regimes for a ‘shadow’ military
administration. Whilst this may be an extreme view of the power of the military in
the Middle East, it does capture the importance of the military in the formation
of the modern Middle East. In addition, existing power dynamics were also exploited
to maintain order. In Egypt and Iraq, the British sought to favour large landowners
through the implementation of favourable land laws and taxation. Whilst this had
the effect of fostering resentment amongst the bulk of the population and shaping
much of the populist discourse of nationalist movements that would emerge prior
to and after World War II, it also set in train a dynamic whereby central authorities
would be viewed as the holders and distributors of power and wealth, a pattern that
would continue after independence.
These were not wholly uniform approaches. Indeed, there were a variety of local
proxies employed by the Europeans as well as new systems of government devel-
oped under their League-of-Nations-authorised tutelage. For instance, the British
relied on monarchical authority in Egypt, Transjordan, Iraq and the Gulf, whilst the
French favoured republican models in Syria and Tunisia. Despite this, centralised
rule was pursued, but through different means: the sponsorship of monarchies saw
some delegation of powers to the monarch where this institution would be subject
to influence from the colonial authority. In republican systems, the colonial power
would seek to exert more direct influence on compliant regimes. In both instances,
local militaries were developed as an extension of this authority.
New Elites and New Institutions

Whilst debate continues over the notion of the artificiality of these states, there is
little disagreement in terms of the recent origin of the new political institutions
in each state. The colonial powers, in essence, sought to create new institutions
within new territorial entities in a relatively short period of time. This was not a
terribly effective process, leading to an over-emphasis on state security services and
an under-development of other areas such as education, health and social services.
Syria captures these themes in a variety of ways. Nazih Ayubi has defined Syria
as a ‘residual state’ (Ayubi, 1999: 114) after the divisions of Sykes–Picot and the
Mandate system. Even where there had been moves towards the centralisation of
authority around the area of Damascus, the territorial scope of this was markedly
different from what had been envisioned by local elites or what was reflected in the
established patterns of local cultural, economic and even familial relations on the
ground. As a result, existing patterns of authority and economy sought to adapt,
whilst new groups pushed to move from positions of marginalisation to take control
of this new environment.
These arrangements saw the emergence of a range of new political elites. For
instance, the reliance on coercive policies saw a continuation of the Ottoman efforts
at exploiting ethnic and religious diversity as a means to maintain authority. In
Syria, the French sponsored the enlistment of large numbers of the Alawite minor-
ity, a group that had previously been on the margins of power in the region, to key
posts within the new military. Combined with an exploitation of class cleavages, the
colonial process both amplified existing antagonisms and created new players in the
political system. The view of historians such as Elie Podeh captures what was an
interplay between a series of pre-existing identities and new allegiances during this
period (Podeh, 1998). This dynamic would in many ways be frozen upon independ-
ence or the overthrow of the many Western-backed governments across the region.
In terms of economic development, the European powers tied the economies of
these territories closely to their own, including the direct management of economies
out of European capitals rather than through the colonial capital. As a result, any
move towards local control or regulation of the local economy was undermined. This
saw the development of new economic elites, a small group who were able to take
advantage of this form of colonial mercantilism. This created tension with existing
economic elites, often large landowners, who tried to shore up their dominant posi-
tion in the rapidly changing political and economic environment. However, even
with independence or revolutionary change, the emerging states in the Middle East
would carry the legacy of the institutions of this time through to today. Centralised
rule based largely on coercive means, a prominent military role in politics, tense class
and ethnic divisions, under-developed education systems and strong yet volatile links
to European powers played a key role in the various forms of populist, autocratic
politics that would emerge in the Middle East after World War II.
Control of the Religious Sphere

Another key part of this process was an effort to control the religious sphere
through a variety of means, such as official secularisation policies and reforms of
religious institutions. As Halliday has pointed out, this was not necessarily an ideo-
logical commitment to the idea of a separation of mosque and state but an effort
to strengthen state or, more specifically, regime, authority (Halliday, 2005). With
some exceptions, religious institutions were a source of authority and legitimacy
that remained largely outside the control of these new regimes. Therefore, install-
ing secularism as a priority of the political process sanctioned efforts to undermine
religious authorities or establish state-sanctioned religious institutions.
This was not a one-way process in terms of external parties or new regimes
simply shaping society, nor was there a uniform trend towards secularisation across
the region. Indeed, the very weakness of these new states required some accom-
modation with popular sentiment. The establishment of state-sanctioned religious
institutions was one means by which new states sought to manipulate popular
religiosity for their own ends. This was a continuation of the Ottoman policy of
seeking to bring the religious establishment under state control, particularly during
the reforms of the 18th and 19th centuries.
Here, colonial authorities continued the practice of putting an official clergy

(ùlama) on the government payroll and administering the real estate holdings of
the various religious establishments through central government (Owen, 1992: 29).
This was complemented with the creation of secular education systems and civil
law codes in areas such as Syria, Jordan, Tunisia and Egypt to mitigate the influence
of religious authorities. This policy also blended the religious and governmental,
with the use of religious edicts, or fatwas, to legitimate government policy and, by
proxy, the very existence of these new governments.
The Cultural Challenge

Perhaps the most subtle, yet controversial impact of this period was not so much in the
reshaping of the political landscape, or the creation of economic dependency on colo-
nial powers, but the cultural challenge to the people of the region. Indeed, the rationale
employed by the European powers for their dominance of the region in many ways
shaped the political discourse of the modern Middle East and laid the foundations for
the particularly volatile relationship between the region and Western states.
Lord Evelyn Baring Cromer, Consul-General in Egypt from 1883 to 1907:
The European is a close reasoner; his statements of fact are devoid of ambiguity;
he is a natural logician; … his trained intelligence works like a piece of mecha-
nism. The mind of the Oriental, on the other hand, like his picturesque streets, is
eminently wanting in symmetry. His reasoning is of the most slipshod description.
Although the ancient Arabs acquired in a somewhat higher degree the sciences
of dialectics, their descendants are singularly deficient in the logical faculty.
This challenge can perhaps best be understood through the notion of the ‘civilising
mission’. Whilst this was a concept predominantly employed by the French, it does
help in understanding the efforts to justify the imposition of European domination
over the Middle East as well as in Africa, South and East Asia and Latin America.
Central to this idea was an understanding of human societies as each on a path of
‘development’, with the European states leading the way towards a more ‘civilised’
future. Overlaid with ideas of social Darwinism and the supposed innate supe-
riority of particular ways of life, the European powers continually justified their
presence in the region in terms of laying the groundwork for development and civil-
isation. Indeed, the very idea behind the Mandate system sponsored by the League
of Nations is built on this principle, whereby the European states would sponsor a
‘backward’ culture in its search for ‘modernity’.
The prejudice of this perspective is clearly evident. However, as Edward Said

has famously contended, this ran deeper than statements justifying immediate
political and economic domination. Said’s Orientalism argued that the very notion
of an uncivilised Orient, or other, was a construction of stereotypes used not to
understand other cultures and peoples, but to claim the idea of ‘modernity’ as an
exclusively Western possession. Indeed, this construct of the ‘Orient’ was used to
‘define Europe’ (Said, 1979: 1) as modern, rational and possessing of a capacity for
reasoned thought, as opposed to the constructed ‘Oriental’.
This discourse permeated almost all aspects of European activity in the Middle
East, and fed into the emergence of new political trends in the region. For instance,
the focus on the supposed superiority of Western culture and Western religious
culture was used as a justification for the attempts to dismantle the religious insti-
tutions in many Middle Eastern societies held as incompatible with modernity.
This debate over religion, particularly Islam, and modernity facilitated the various
discourses around the emergence of Islamic reformist and secularist movements
across the region through the 19th and 20th centuries, with many elements of this
discourse still resonating today.
A sense of dependence was therefore a dominant feature of the relationship
between the Middle East and Europe. Even before the independence of these states,
they had developed in such a way as to leave them at the mercy of events outside
their borders and beyond their control. Even issues directly relevant to the future
of these communities were either removed from their decision-making capacity or
were decided on by local elites who acted in concert with European powers.
Thus, we can see the emergence of patterns of rule at this time that resonated
through the rest of the 20th century whereby Middle Eastern states relied on
a mixture of external support, patronage, wealth distribution, symbology, direct
coercion and indirect or threatened coercion to maintain their rule. This is cer-
tainly not an exceptional dynamic, as these methods of rule are present amongst
most regions across the globe. What is important and perhaps exceptional is the
degree to which these regimes, all of which were characterised by some form of
authoritarianism or autocracy, have been able to survive almost unchallenged since
independence.
Palestine and Israel

Encapsulating these trends, particularly in terms of external interference, the emer-
gence of new political trends and their interplay with pre-existing ideologies, and
the impacts of new political institutions, elites and communities, was the contro-
versy surrounding the British Mandate of Palestine and the early steps towards the
founding of the State of Israel in 1948. Whilst the immediate circumstances and
controversies around the establishment of Israel will be discussed later, this section
will outline the ideological basis for Jewish settlement in the Palestine Mandate and
how this is connected to statehood. In addition, it will explore how the role of the
British worked to amplify the tensions between the Arab and Jewish communities,
leaving the status of the Palestine Mandate in a highly ambiguous state on the eve
of World War II.
Zionism
The philosophical origins of the movement towards the establishment of the state
of Israel in 1948 can be found in the Zionist movement. Broadly, Zionism emerged
amongst Jewish intellectuals in Eastern and Central Europe as an ideology call-
ing for the reconstitution of Jewish life on a national basis; that is, a focus on the
creation of a nation-state to secure the survival and livelihood of the Jewish com-
munity. Whilst there was some debate as to where this new state would be created,
the focus on the Biblical Holy Land, the territory that would become the Palestine
Mandate, was present from early on.
As with other nationalist ideologies of the time, Zionism was a response to
the emergence of European national identities. However, the emergence of these
identities posed a particular threat to Jewish communities who had often existed
in these communities in the face of intense hostility. This hostility, as anti-Semitism,
increased markedly throughout Europe in the 19th century, providing the impe-
tus for the growth in popularity of the Zionist movement. Whilst there was a
uniform focus on the creation of a Jewish state, the Zionist movement displayed
a great deal of diversity, including streams with a more class-based Marxist
focus and others with a more explicitly religious focus. However, it was the lib-
eral stream, most clearly articulated by Theodor Herzl and Leon Pinsker, that
would articulate the dominant Zionist vision through the late 19th and early
20th centuries.
Anti-Semitism in Germany increased through the early decades of the 20th century,
before its climax in the devastation of the Holocaust. Anti-Semitism was not limited to
Germany, but it became part of the Nazi regime’s policy platform when the Jewish com-
munity was stripped of citizenship rights and the state sponsored organised violence
against the community. On the outbreak of World War II, the Nazi regime implemented
a programme of genocide that led to the death of 6 million of Europe’s estimated
9 million Jews.
Debates on how the Zionist vision would be achieved are one of the many intense
controversies surrounding the establishment of Israel, with this debate continu-
ing to shape political debates in contemporary Israel. Here, the central aim of the
Zionist movement, to ‘construct in Palestine a distinct Jewish community’, linked
to the Balfour Declaration’s facilitation of the creation of a ‘Jewish national home’
in Palestine left a range of issues ambiguous. In particular, how would this new
‘home’ be constructed in terms of the existing population of the area? In this regard,
Shima Flapan outlines a range of Zionist goals that centre on the importance of
external sponsorship of Jewish statehood, the creation of a Jewish community dis-
tinct from the Arab community in Palestine, an effort to undermine the emergence
or emphasis on a distinct Palestinian Arab national identity that may compete with
Zionist territorial claims, and the sponsorship of Jewish migration to strengthen
the Zionist claims to the territory (Flapan, 1979).
An important element of this debate in Zionism includes the perspectives of
so-called ‘revisionist’ Zionism. Drawing primarily on the writing of Zeèv Jabotinsky,
revisionist Zionism is a perspective that focused on the establishment of a Jewish
state in the entire original British Mandate, one that included the future Mandate
and the modern-day state of Jordan. Jabotinsky’s ideas were highly influential on
the ideologies of Israel’s right-wing parties, particularly Likud, and their reticence
to negotiate over the partition of any part of the Israeli state in negotiations with
the Palestinians.
The King–Crane Commission

In line with the creation of a Jewish state, the Zionist movement began to finance
the migration (aliyah) of Jews to the Ottoman-held territories in the eastern
Mediterranean, a process that would accelerate after the creation of the Palestine
Mandate in 1923. Indeed, elements of the Balfour Declaration were included in the
British Mandate of Palestine, retaining reference to a ‘national home’ as opposed to
the creation of a Jewish ‘state’. As mentioned previously, this policy saw the Jewish
community in Palestine grow to 60,000, or 8% of the total population in 1914, a
community that held an estimated 10% of the land in the territory.
As the Balfour Declaration fed into the broader controversy over European
interests, the United States launched an investigation into the process by which for-
mer Ottoman territories were being managed after World War I. This commission,
established by US President Woodrow Wilson and headed by Henry Churchill
King and Charles Crane, was guided by Wilson’s stated desire, outlined in the
famous ‘Fourteen Points’ speech of 1918, to allow the non-Turkish communities of
the Ottoman Empire the ‘unmolested opportunity of autonomous development’.
Whilst the findings of the King–Crane Commission in relation to the broader

region argued for the US to replace the British and French in occupying the
region, it famously questioned the viability of the creation of a Jewish state in the
area to become the Palestine Mandate. Indeed, in surveying the largely hostile
attitudes of the Arab community to the growing Jewish presence and, particularly,
the rising popularity of the Zionist movement alongside the nascent, yet growing
Jewish community in the region, the commission concluded that the only means
by which such a state could be established would be through ‘a practically com-
plete dispossession of the present non-Jewish inhabitants of Palestine’. Instead,
the commission argued for the creation of a ‘Greater Syria’, inclusive of the Syrian,
Jordanian and Palestinian Mandates, that would have protection for minorities
enshrined in any future constitution. Despite this, as we have seen, the commission
did not affect the outcome of the post-World War I negotiations, which saw a divi-
sion of the region and an incorporation of the goals of the Balfour Declaration in
the Palestine Mandate. However, it did feed into the growing antagonism between
the communities as each fought to establish the validity of their claims over the
Biblical Holy Land.
The British White Papers and the Arab Revolt

On the eve of the formal establishment of the Palestine Mandate in 1923, and in
the wake of unrest amongst the Arab community in Palestine during 1920 and
1921, British colonial policy became increasingly mired in confusion. In an attempt
to clarify its stance in relation to the question of Palestine, then Colonial Secretary
Winston Churchill and British High Commissioner in Palestine Herbert Samuel
released a White Paper in 1922 to clarify the official British government’s stance.
Whilst the 1922 White Paper reiterated the British government’s support for
the sentiments contained in the Balfour Declaration, it also sought to distance the
British position from the establishment of a separate Jewish state. Here, the White
Paper focused on the use of the phrase ‘national home’ in the document, one that
would involve international guarantees for the protection of Jewish rights. However,
it also sought to counter the claims of those who pointed to the provisions of the
Hussein–McMahon Correspondence, arguing that the area to the west of the River
Jordan was never part of the original discussions. Acting on this, the British subse-
quently moved to formally separate these territories from the Mandate of Jordan,
leading to the creation of the two separate Mandates of Palestine and Transjordan
in 1923.
In an attempt to court relations with both sides, the White Paper also outlined
limits for Jewish migration to the territory whilst also enshrining the right of the
aliyah process. This had little effect on the growth of the Jewish migrant popula-
tion in Palestine or the increasing rate of land transfer from the Arab to the Jewish
community. It also did little to undercut the growing suspicion amongst the Jewish
community that the British were backing away from what they saw as a promise to
support an independent Jewish state, as expressed in the Balfour Declaration. It is
here that we can see how the lack of trust with which external powers are viewed in
relation to this issue was founded. Indeed, it is the very mishandling of the question
by the colonial power and the confused policies that it pursued that helped create
the volatile environment leading up to the creation of the State of Israel in 1948.
The Arab Revolt and the 1937 Peel Commission

The tensions between the two communities, and between both communities and
the British, grew throughout the 1930s. For the Arab Palestinian community, a
severe deterioration of the economic environment, particularly for the poorer rural
communities, combined with the increasing rate of Jewish migration and land
acquisition and a seeming British deference to these issues, led to the outbreak of
conflict in 1936. Initially manifesting as a series of strikes across the Mandate, by
1937 the Arab Revolt had escalated into a full-scale yet highly disorganised insur-
rection that left an estimated 4000–5000 dead (Hughes, 2009: 235).
In the wake of the outbreak of the Arab Revolt, the British government dis-
patched Earl William Peel to Palestine in November 1936 to investigate the
causes of the uprising. The report of the Peel Commission (officially known as the
Palestine Royal Commission) established one of the seminal themes of this conflict,
partition. Specifically, the commission recommended that the Palestine Mandate be
abolished, to be replaced by two new entities, a Jewish state along the central and
northern coast of the Mandate, including the Galilee region, and an Arab state in
the remaining portions of the territory, with an internationally administered area
around Jerusalem through to the coast south of Tel Aviv. Controversially, the report
also recommended a population exchange along the lines that took place in western
Turkey between the Greek and Turkish communities and that would later take
place with the partition of India (cited in Rabinovich and Reinharz, 2008: 44).
Whilst Arab opinion was almost unanimous in its rejection of the proposal,
Zionist opinion was divided, with some arguing that it did not achieve the aims of
Zionism in all of Eretz Israel (Hebrew for the Land of Israel) and others arguing
that it was a critical first step in the realisation of a Jewish state in the territory.
This would be a trend mirrored later when the newly established United Nations
proposed the partition of Palestine in 1947. This notion of partition still reso-
nates in current discussions of a ‘two state solution’ for the Arab–Israeli conflict.
Ultimately, however, the subsequent British-led 1938 Partition Commission,
whilst outlining a series of other parti-
N
Scale
tion recommendations, concluded that
O
20 10 0 20 40 MILES
MILES
population transfers and the financial
N
S
International Boundaries
A
Railways
fragility of these new entities would
B
Roads
make this process too difficult.
Y
E
L
R
L.Huleh
The 1939 (MacDonald) White
I
Safed
Paper
Acre
L.Tiberias
HAIFA Tiberias
A
With the collapse of discussions on par-
Samakh
Nazareth
Megiddo tition, and war looming in Europe, the

Jenin Beisan
British sought to quell the violence in
the region through the convening of a
Tulkaram
Nablus Jerash N
R. Jordan
Tel Aviv conference in 1939 with both Arab and

Jewish leaders. The failure of this confer-
JAFFA
A
Lydda
Ramle Ramallah Amman
Jericho
JERUSALEM ence to reach any meaningful agreement
D
Al Majdal Bethlehem led British Colonial Secretary Malcolm

MacDonald to issue a new White Paper
ea
Gaza Hebron
R
Dead S
Khan Yunis in 1939, one that was framed in the

Beersheba context of courting Arab opinion in
O
the lead-up to World War II. Essentially,

the new British government stance was
S
Auja
to detach itself from any move towards
–
the establishment of a Jewish state,

I
whilst still supporting the idea of Jewish

S
rights enshrined in any post-independence

N
arrangement.
N
Significantly, the 1939 White Paper

A
sought strict limits on Jewish migration

A
and land acquisition. The Jewish com-

R
munity had increased to around 30% of

I
the population by the late 1930s, whilst

T
Gulf of Aqaba
Aqaba
owning between 5% and 7% of the land
Figure 2.5 The map of the Partition in the Mandate. The majority of the
Proposal from the 1937 Peel Commission Arab land was owned by large land-
owners, often absentee, who appeared
increasingly willing to sell large sections of arable land to the new settlers. This act,
particularly the provisions relating to land ownership, did have the effect of mitigat-
ing some of the antagonism behind the Arab Revolt. However, it led to the British
becoming the focus for Zionist agitation.
Thus, on the eve of World War II, the British had overseen a situation in Palestine
that had led to simmering tensions between the two major communities there, as
well as highly strained relations between the colonial authority and these communi-
ties. This in many ways captured the broader themes of this period in terms of the
creation of largely arbitrary borders, an environment of dependency and cultural
antagonism, an ineffective management of local community interests and a con-
fused, self-interested colonial policy.
British Colonialism in Iraq

Whilst the controversies surrounding the Mandate system and external interven-
tion gained considerable attention in Palestine, the British presence in the Mandate
of Mesopotamia was equally consequential. Indeed, the British presence in Iraq
between 1916 and 1932, and then again during the early years of World War II laid
the groundwork for the suspicion and hostility with which successive Iraqi regimes
viewed the UK and later the US.
Lt. Gen. Stanley Maude – proclamation of Baghdad in 1917 – ‘I am charged with absolute
and supreme control of all regions in which British troops operate; but our armies do
not come to your cities and lands as conquerors or enemies, but as liberators.’
As was discussed above, Faisal bin Hussein was active in cooperating with the
British in the Arab revolt against the Ottomans during World War I. Faisal
ruled the short-lived Arab Kingdom of Syria centred on Damascus, a kingdom
that lasted from March to July 1920. However, despite support for the creation
of an independent and unitary Arab state in the King–Crane Commission, the
British and particularly the French pursued the division of the Levant according
to the tenets of the Sykes–Picot Agreement, seeing the end of the short-lived
kingdom.
British authority was established in Iraq in 1920, along with the emergence of
a new territorial entity formed out of the three former Ottoman vilayets of Mosul
in the north, Baghdad in the centre and Basra in the south. This included highly
diverse communities, including Kurdish, Turkmen and Assyrian populations in
the north, a large Arab Sunni community through the centre of the country, and
an Arab Shià population in the south that was the largest single group, as well as
a highly diverse population in the new capital of Baghdad. The borders of the new
state were also controversial in that they limited Iraq to 58 kilometres of coastline
along the Gulf, allocating the remainder to the British-controlled territory of

Kuwait (Cleveland and Bunton, 2009: 204–5). This would be a source of tension
that culminated in the ill-fated 1990 Iraqi invasion of Kuwait and subsequent
US-led military intervention.
The British initially ruled through the Foreign Office; however, this became
untenable with the outbreak of the 1920 Iraqi Revolution, an anti-British revolt
that spanned the country’s Sunni and Shià communities seeking British with-
drawal. It was a critical event in modern Iraqi history, one that some consider as
forming a key narrative in the formation of a modern Iraqi identity, due in large
part to the severity of the British response (Tripp, 2002: 44). In excess of 6000 Iraqis
died during the height of the conflict between July and October 1920, along with
over 500 British soldiers (Tauber, 1995: 15).
With their authority established in Iraq after crushing the 1920 uprising,
the British installed the Hashemite Faisal as king in Baghdad in August 1921.
Whilst the new king had nominal authority, the 1922 Anglo–Iraqi Treaty lim-
ited his powers, with the British maintaining a military presence in the country
and increasing dominance of the new Iraqi oil industry (Cleveland and Bunton,
2009: 208). This close relationship with Britain continued after Iraqi inde-
pendence in 1932, a relationship that also bred a degree of popular resentment,
particularly over the meagre returns from what was increasingly seen as the
country’s vast potential oil wealth. Thus, without the astute leadership of Faisal
I, after his death in 1933, the monarchy under his successors, Ghazi I (1933–9)
and Faisal II (1939–58), was portrayed as leaving Iraq open to continued exploi-
tation and foreign control, a theme that would be prominent in the subsequent
1958 Revolution.
Conclusion
This chapter has sought to outline the interplay between the legacies of the
Ottoman period and the impacts of increasing European dominance. Here, the
foundations for the modern state system were forged, based on a questionable
territorial division of the region as well as trends towards the establishment of
authoritarian regimes. This period also saw the crystallisation of many of the issues
that continue to define the region’s political landscape, including the origins of the
Israeli–Palestinian conflict as well as controversies over the role of foreign powers
in the region. It was from here that, as we shall see in Chapter 3, the region moved
towards independence within the changed international environment of the
Cold War, an era that would see the Middle East increasingly viewed as a region
in crisis.
Study Questions
♦♦ In what ways did Ottoman rule combine with colonial and imperial activity to
shape the modern state system in the Middle East?
♦♦ In what ways were contemporary political ideologies and political rhetoric in
the Middle East shaped by this ‘colonial encounter’?
♦♦ How did colonial patterns differ across the Middle East and what impacts did
this have?
♦♦ What are the controversies surrounding the establishment of the Republic of
Turkey and how do they shape current issues?
♦♦ Was there a significant difference in the relationship between Middle Eastern
states and Western states throughout the 20th and into the 21st century as
there was during the colonial period?
♦♦ What were the impacts of the cultural discourses of colonialism on the rela-
tions between the Middle East and Western states and societies?
♦♦ In what ways did the issues of the Mandate period shape the controversies
surrounding the establishment of the State of Israel?
Further Reading
Choueiri, Youssef (ed.) (2005) A Companion to the History of the Middle East.
New York: Wiley-Blackwell.
A comprehensive volume that covers the key themes that dominated the religious,
social, cultural, economic, political and military origins of the modern Middle East.
Now in its fourth edition, this seminal volume provides a highly detailed account of
the modern political history of the region.
Fromkin, David (2001) A Peace to End All Peace: The Fall of the Ottoman Empire and
the Creation of the Modern Middle East. New York: Owl Books.
A compelling account of the specific events around the collapse of the Ottoman
Empire, providing critical insight into the dynamics that shaped the emergence of
the modern state system in the Middle East.
Khalidi, Rashid (2005) Resurrecting Empire: Western Footprints and America’s Perilous
Path in the Middle East. New York: Beacon Press.
A critical examination of the patterns of Western interventionism in the Middle East,
a trend that has impacted greatly on the rhetoric and ideologies of the region today.
Rubin, Barry (1981) The Great Powers in the Middle East 1941–1947: The Road to
the Cold War. London: Routledge.
Based on extensive archival research, this volume details the machinations
between ‘Great Powers’ during the World War II period and their impacts on the
Middle East.

References
Andrew, Christopher M. (1981) The Climax of French Imperial Expansion: 1914–1924.
Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press.
Ayubi, Nazih (1999) Overstating the Arab State: Politics and Society in the Middle
East. London: I.B. Tauris.
Dadrian, Vahakn N. (1995) The History of the Armenian Genocide: Ethnic Conflict
from the Balkans to Anatolia to the Caucasus. Oxford: Berghahn Books.
Davidson, Christopher (2012) Power and Politics in the Persian Gulf Monarchies.
New York: Columbia University Press
Deeb, Marius (1979) Party Politics in Egypt: The Wafd and its Rivals, 1919–38.
Ithaca, NY: Ithaca Press.
Evans, Martin (2012) Algeria: France’s Undeclared War. Oxford: Oxford University
Press.
Flapan, Shima (1979) Zionism and the Palestinians. London: Croom Helm.
Halliday, Fred (2005) The Middle East in International Relations. Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press.
Hughes, Matthew (2009) ‘A Very British Affair? The Repression of the Arab
Revolt in Palestine, 1936–39 (Part One)’, Journal of the Society for Army Historical
Research, 87(351): 234–55.
Kamrava, Mehran (2000) ‘Military Professionalization and Civil–Military Relations
in the Middle East’, Political Science Quarterly, 115(1): 67–92.
Mitchell, Richard P. (1993) The Society of the Muslim Brothers. Oxford: Oxford
University Press.
Morris, Benny (2009) 1948: A History of the First Arab–Israeli War. New Haven, CT:
Yale University Press.
Owen, Roger (1992) State, Power and Politics and the Making of the Modern Middle
East. London: Routledge.
Pappé, Ilan (2006) A History of Modern Palestine: One Land, Two Peoples. Cambridge:
Perkins, Kenneth A. (1986) Tunisia: Crossroads of the Islamic and European Worlds.
Boulder, CO: Westview Press.
Podeh, Elie (1998) ‘The Emergence of the Arab State System Reconsidered’,
Diplomacy and Statecraft, 9(3): 50–82.
Powell, Eve M. Troutt (2003) A Different Shade of Colonialism: Egypt, Great Britain,
and the Mastery of the Sudan. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press.
Rabinovich, Itamar and Reinharz, Jehuda (2008) Israel in the Middle East: Documents
and Readings on Society, Politics, and Foreign Relations, Pre-1948 to the Present.
Lebanon, NH: Brandeis University Press.
Said, Edward (1979) Orientalism. New York: Penguin.
Sessions, Jennifer E. (2011) By Sword and Plow: France and the Conquest of Algeria.
Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press.
Silverstein, Paul A. (2004) Algeria in France: Transpolitics, Race, and Nation.
Bloomington, IN: Indiana University Press.
Tauber, Eliezer (1995) The Formation of Modern Syria and Iraq. London: Frank
Cass.
Tessler, Mark (1994) A History of the Israeli–Palestinian Conflict. Bloomington, IN:
Indiana University Press.
Tripp, Charles (2002) A History of Iraq. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Wright, William (2010) A Tidy Little War: The British Invasion of Egypt 1882.
Stroud: The History Press.
3
The Cold War
and the New
International
Relations of
the Middle
East
Learning Objectives
♦♦ The impacts of World War II on the Middle East and the emergence of independent
states in the region.
♦♦ The emergence of the State of Israel and the core controversies of the Arab–Israeli
conflict.
♦♦ The decline of colonial influence in the region and the transfer to the Cold War
environment.
♦♦ The impacts of the Cold War, particularly the impacts of superpower foreign policy
on regional political dynamics.
♦♦ How regional events, such as the Yemen Civil War, the Lebanese Civil War and the
Iran–Iraq War, capture the impacts of the Cold War on the Middle East.
TIMELINE
2–31 May 1941: Anglo–Iraqi War 19 June 1961: Kuwaiti independence

25 August 1941: Anglo–Soviet 3 July 1962: Algerian independence
invasion of Iran
1962–1970: Yemen Civil War
22 November 1943: Lebanese 8 February 1963: Baàth Party coup
independence in Iraq
17 April 1946: Syrian independence 30 November 1967: South Yemeni
25 May 1946: Jordanian independence
independence 1 September 1969: Muammar
22 July 1946: King David Hotel Gaddhafi comes to power in
bombing Libya
29 November 1947: UNGA 15 September 1970–5 April 1971:

Resolution 181 Black September clashes in
Jordan
14 May 1948: Israeli independence
12 March 1971: Military coup in
24 December 1951: Libyan Turkey
independence
5 April 1971: PLO moves to
23 July 1952: Free Officers’ Coup Lebanon
in Egypt
15 August 1971: Bahraini
19 August 1953: US-backed independence
overthrow of Mossadeq 3 September 1971: Qatari
government in Iran independence
1 November 1954–19 March 1962: 2 December 1971: UAE
Algerian War of Independence independence
17 November 1954: Nasser 1975–1990: Lebanese Civil War
becomes President of Egypt
10 June 1976: Syrian invasion of
1 January 1956: Sudanese Lebanon
independence
14 March 1978: First Israeli
20 March 1956: Tunisian invasion of Lebanon
independence
16 July 1979: Saddam Hussein
7 April 1956: Moroccan becomes President of Iraq
independence
24 December 1979: Soviet invasion
26 July 1956: Nasser nationalises of Afghanistan
the Suez Canal
12 September 1980: Military coup
29 October–6 November 1956: in Turkey
Suez Crisis
22 September 1980–20 August
14 July 1958: Overthrow of Iraqi 1988: Iran–Iraq War
monarchy
7 June 1981: Israeli attacks on
27 May 1960: Military coup in Turkey Osiraq Facility
The Cold War and the New International Relations of the Middle East 65
6 June 1982: Second Israeli 18 April 1983: US Embassy

invasion of Lebanon bombing in Beirut
14 September 1982: President 23 October 1983: Beirut Marine
Gemayel assassinated Barracks bombings
16–18 September 1982: Sabraand 22 May 1990: Yemeni Unification
Shatila massacre
Introduction
The decades following World War II were critical in setting the main themes,
controversies and political structures of the Middle East. This chapter will explore
the Cold War period in the Middle East, with an emphasis on how global political
dynamics interacted with local issues and forces. Here, a series of regional issues
will be examined, notably the formation of the State of Israel, the Yemen Civil
War, the Lebanese Civil War and the Iran–Iraq War, in order to explore how
global political dynamics have impacted on regional affairs and how events in the
Middle East have shaped global politics. In doing this, a series of assumptions
about this period will be challenged. Specifically, a common theme of this period
has been the efforts by the Cold War superpowers to manipulate the foreign policy
of smaller states.
However, this chapter will outline how the regimes of the Middle East were
able to act with a high degree of autonomy in pursuing their own interests.
These interests were not always aligned with the greater good of the people of
the region, being aimed primarily at perpetuating the rule of those in charge. It
was in this environment that resentment towards external powers amongst the
people of the region became further entrenched, a theme that will be explored in
subsequent chapters.
World War II and the Middle East

In the lead-up to World War II, the European powers exerted more direct con-
trol over various parts of the Middle East. Ironically, this direct form of control
came in the context of the obligations to prepare regional communities for inde-
pendence under the League of Nations Mandate system. With the outbreak of war,
the European powers vied for control of the region because of its strategic location
and oil resources. Local independence movements were largely inactive during this
period, with large numbers of Algerians, Moroccans, Egyptians, Lebanese, Syrians
and others participating in the war effort as part of the British and Free French
forces. The exception to this was the uprising in Iraq in 1942 that led to a British
intervention and occupation.
During the war, the British and Free French troops, along with a number of
Commonwealth forces from Australia, New Zealand and Canada, occupied Egypt,
Lebanon and Syria, whilst British and Soviet forces occupied the south and north
of Iran respectively. This was a last glimpse of colonial might in the Middle East,
with the end of World War II paving the way for a fundamentally new international
system as well as a new regional political order. This new international system came
to be defined as a ‘Cold War’ between the United States and the Soviet Union. The
international environment was now a bipolar system, a cold conflict in that it did not
directly involve a conventional military confrontation between the two superpowers
(Sayigh and Shlaim, 1997: 1).
In terms of the rhetorical and ideological confrontation, this broadly centred
on the economic policies of capitalism and communism and, to a lesser extent, the
political systems of ‘democratic localism and bureaucratic centralism’ (Reynolds,
2000: 21). In other words, two poles of influence emerged – around the US, with
its ideas of capitalism and democracy, and the Soviet Union, with its ideas of com-
munism and state control – with each seen as the natural opposite of the other.
The immediate postwar environment was highly fluid. It was in this context
that many of the key issues that have defined contemporary Middle Eastern poli-
tics were formed. For instance, the controversies surrounding the legitimacy of the
state system and the role of ideologies and the military in politics were issues that
emerged in this period. In addition, the controversy over the status of the British
Mandate in Palestine continued.
The Establishment of Israel

The Jewish Revolt and the End of the Palestine Mandate
The Palestine Mandate was a site of conflict between Axis and Allied powers
during World War II, as well as of simmering tension between the Jewish and
Palestinian Arab communities up to 1945. By the end of the war and with the
emergence of independent states in the region, both communities sought to pursue
their goals of an independent Jewish state, independent Arab state, or some form of
union with one of the neighbouring states. Whilst tensions between Britain and the
Zionist movement grew after the 1939 White Paper, they were mitigated somewhat
with the election of a Labour government under Clement Attlee. However, whilst
Labour had reiterated its support for the establishment of a Jewish state during the
election campaign, it became increasingly clear that they would not abrogate the
White Paper as the basis for British policy in Palestine. The British calculation was
that its postwar reconstruction depended on access to Middle Eastern oil, access
that increasingly relied on good relationships with the independent Arab states
after World War II.
The name ‘Israel’ comes from the Old Testament book of Genesis (32:28) with the story
of Jacob. The word itself means ‘he who has striven with God’. The Hebrew Yi is the
masculine pronoun ‘he’, sra means ‘to strive and save’ and el means ‘God’.
The Truman administration in the US took a different stance. Whilst seeking the
return of displaced Jewish refugees to Europe after the war and the horrors of the
Holocaust, Truman became increasingly sympathetic to the idea of the establish-
ment of a Jewish state in Palestine, petitioning the Attlee government to sponsor
the settlement of 100,000 Jewish refugees in the Mandate, a petition the British
rejected (Fraser, 2008: 29). It was this move that led the Jewish Agency, the peak
body pursuing Jewish statehood in Palestine, to move towards open rebellion
against the British.
The three main Zionist armed groups, the Haganah (the ‘official’ armed
wing of the Jewish Agency), the Irgun and the Lehi (both militias that had bro-
ken from the Haganah before 1945) formed a united command and launched
attacks on British installations and infrastructure from October 1945. The
Jewish community in Palestine rallied in support of these actions, making British
counter-insurgency operations virtually impossible, and seeing the revolt escalate
through to April 1946.
As the Jewish Revolt continued, the British invited US participation to investi-
gate a political settlement, launching the Anglo-American Commission of Inquiry
in late 1945. The Commission’s findings, handed down in May 1946, supported the
settlement of 100,000 Jewish refugees in Palestine but also dismissed the notion of
partition or the creation of ethnically based states, instead calling for an interna-
tional trusteeship over all of the Palestine Mandate. Both the Jewish Agency and
the Arab Higher Committee, who ostensibly represented the Palestinians, rejected
the proposal. Wrangling in both London and Washington also saw this ultimately
rejected by both governments.
With the collapse of this initiative, fighting broke out again between the Jewish
forces and the British, as well as between Jewish and Palestinian communities. In a
sharp escalation, members of the Irgun bombed the British Mandate headquarters
at the King David Hotel in Jerusalem on 22 July 1946, killing 91 people. Whilst
the Haganah officially condemned the attack, stating that the Irgun and its leader
Menachim Begin (who would become Prime Minister of Israel between 1977 and
1983) had acted independently, it led the British to the conclusion that the costs of
maintaining the Mandate were too high and they should implement a settlement
based on partition that would enable them to leave but still access regional oil sup-
plies via the port in Haifa (Clarke, 1981: 26).
This was a seminal moment as the Arab Higher Committee rejected partition in
principle whilst the Jewish Agency shifted their position in support of a partition
plan. This coincided with an announcement by the Truman administration that
they officially supported Jewish statehood with partition as the means to achieve
this (Fraser, 2008: 33). For their part, the British referred the issue to the United
Nations in early 1947 as they prepared to withdraw from the Mandate. This refer-
ral to the UN was important for two reasons. First, it reiterated partition as the
official international position for settlement of the conflict and, second, it also saw
the clarification of the Soviet position, one also supportive of the establishment of a
Jewish state. Therefore, both the US and Soviets supported the creation of an inde-
pendent Jewish state prior to 1948, and would subsequently court the new Israeli
government after its establishment.
The United Nations Special Committee on Palestine (UNSCOP) was charged
with investigating a settlement, issuing findings that the British Mandate be ter-
minated and that, on the basis of mutually exclusive interests, the territory be
partitioned with Jerusalem as an international zone (UN, 1947). Territorially, both
proposed entities would be roughly equal, a situation that favoured the Jewish com-
munity who made up an estimated 30% of the population of Palestine at the time.
Indeed, the prospective Jewish state, by UNSCOP estimates, would have a slight
Arab majority at the time of partition (Fraser, 2008: 37). The Jewish Agency sup-
ported the proposal whilst the Arab Higher Committee, along with the British,
rejected it.
The Arab Higher Committee was established in April 1936 as the political organising
committee for Arabs in the Palestine Mandate. It was formed in conjunction with the
1936 Arab Revolt, and sought to coordinate efforts against the British. It had repre-
sentatives from the religious and tribal establishments, but did exclude some tribal
groups and others including small traders, the small professional class and intellectu-
als. Whilst it was increasingly marginalised after 1945, it was given nominal authority
to speak on behalf of the Palestinian Arab community, such as with the decision on
partition, through to the events of 1948.
The 1947–8 War of Palestine Lebanon Damascus

Independence/al-Nakhba U.N. Partition Plan
(1947)
From this point, the core narratives sur- Syria
rounding the establishment of the State Arab state
of Israel were formed, many of which Jewish state
continue to define the parameters of

the Arab–Israeli conflict, in particu-
lar: the issues of Palestinian statehood Tel Aviv
and territoriality; the use of violence as Jaf fa
a political tool; Palestinian refugees; the Amman
perception of Israel as facing existential Jerusalem

(U.N. admin.)
threats; and the status of Israel vis-à-vis Dead Sea
its neighbours. This period – from the
official recommendation by the UN on Beersheba
29 November 1947 for partition of the

Palestine Mandate along the lines of the Jordan
Egypt
UNSCOP report through to the Israeli
Declaration of Independence on 14 May
1948 – is seen by Israelis as their War
of Independence and by Palestinians (as
well as the broader Arab community) as
al-nakhba, or ‘the disaster’.
At the UN, the General Assembly
passed Resolution 181 in November for
the partition of Palestine. In the wake of
this, the violence that had simmered up to Figure 3.1 The United Nations
Partition Plan for Palestine
this point erupted between the two com-
munities. The Palestinians were highly
disorganised, having no national military and lacking a command structure, par-
ticularly in the wake of the British prosecution of the community’s leaders after
the 1936–9 Arab Revolt. In contrast, the Zionist forces were well organised via the
three main militia groups, as well as drawing on the auxiliaries of other militias. As
with almost all events in this period, intense controversy surrounds the interpreta-
tions of acts of violence against each community. However, the net result of these
last months of 1947 was a spiralling of violence and a complete breakdown of rela-
tions between the two communities, whilst the remaining British forces stood aside.
Perhaps the most controversial issue during this period were allegations that the
Zionist forces implemented a programme of forced removal of Palestinians in areas
under their control. Here, a number of scholars, many of them Israeli revisionist his-
torians, have argued that the Zionist forces either had a plan before the conflict for
the removal of the Palestinian population or a ‘transfer was inevitable and inbuilt
into Zionism – because it sought to transform a land which was Arab into a Jewish
state and a Jewish state could not have arisen without a major displacement of [the]
Arab population’ (Morris, 2004: 60). Alternatively, others, including the official
Israeli government position, argue that the majority of Palestinians left voluntarily.
This led to the creation of the Palestinian refugee population that spread through-
out the Middle East, as well as across the globe, alongside the ‘right of return’ for
these refugees becoming a central part of future negotiations.
The US, Soviet Union and a number of other states immediately recognised
Israel with its declaration of independence on 14 May 1948. At the same time,
armies from Egypt, Iraq, Jordan, Lebanon and Syria, with auxiliaries from Saudi
Arabia and Yemen, invaded Israel. The combined invading Arab armies numbered
roughly 25,000, with the Israeli forces numbering roughly 30,000 (a number that
had increased to over 40,000 by June that year). Despite some early gains by the
Arab armies, it quickly became apparent that they lacked common organisation and
leadership, as well as, with the exception of the Jordanian army, modern weaponry.
As a result, the Israeli forces were able to eventually push the Arab armies back and
claim not only territory allocated under the UN Partition Plan but also Galilee in
West Jerusalem Hizma

Municipal section Beit Hanina 0 5 km
Gr conquered by
ee
nL Anata
ine Israel – 1948
Shu’fat
Lif ta Mount Scopus
Enclave
Deir Yassin Old City
Sheikh
Badr Al-Izzariyya
Silwan Abu Dis
Ein Karim
East Jerusalem Municipal section
Malha
remaining under Arab rule – 1949
Beit
Safafa Sur Baher
Ramat Rachel
Bat tir
Beit Jala Bethlehem Corpus Separatum

Beit Sahur Outline
Figure 3.2 The status of Jerusalem from 1948 to 1967

the north, as well as areas around Jerusalem, including the western half of the city,
and the south that were to be part of the Palestinian state.
By early 1949, Israel had repelled all the intervening Arab armies, with the
exception of the Jordanian annexation of the West Bank of the Jordan River,
including East Jerusalem as well as the Egyptian annexation of the city of Gaza
in the south and its immediate hinterland. Armistices were signed with Egypt in
February, Lebanon in March, Jordan in April and Syria in July, leaving Israel in
control of roughly three-quarters of the Palestine Mandate. Hundreds of thousands
of Palestinians left the new state; however, a number remained (an estimated 10%
of the total population). In addition, the large Jewish communities across the Arab
world came under increased pressure, and often direct government repression and
violence, leading to the arrival of thousands of new Jewish migrants to Israel from
the region as well as from across the world in the immediate aftermath of the war.
The United Nations Relief and Works Agency for Palestine (UNRWA) was created
in 1948 as the main international body providing ‘assistance, protection and advocacy’
for the Palestinian refugee community. UNRWA classifies these refugees as those ‘peo-
ple whose normal place of residence was Palestine between June 1946 and May 1948,
who lost both their homes and means of livelihood as a result of the 1948 Arab–Israeli
conflict’, with descendants also eligible for UNRWA services.
According to UNRWA statistics, the Palestinian refugee population as of 1 January 2011
was 4,966,664. The largest community is in Jordan (1,999,466), then Gaza (1,167,361),
the West Bank (848,494), Syria (495,970) and Lebanon (455,373). In addition, many
Palestinians moved to states further afield in the Middle East, such as Kuwait and Saudi
Arabia, as well as migrating to Europe, the United States, Canada and Australia.
Between 1947 and 1972, up to 900,000 Sephardi and Mizrahi Jews left the Arab
states for Israel. Encouraging Jewish migration to Israel is an official part of the country’s
policy under the aliyah programme. The Jewish communities in the Arab states either
voluntarily migrated or were expelled, particularly in the period from 1948 to 1951.
During this time, both the US and the Soviet Union saw benefits in supporting the
establishment of Israel, providing rhetorical and financial support as well as arms
and intelligence during the conflicts. For the US, the Truman administration had
both an ideological commitment to the establishment of Israel as well as a view of
Israel as a potential bulwark against Soviet expansionism. For the Soviets, Israel’s
confrontation with Britain, as well as the strong socialist roots of the Zionist doc-
trine, were seen as positive developments as well as potential building blocks for a
future partnership. It was later, with the Suez Crisis and the emergence of radical
Arab nationalist doctrine, that the Soviet Union began to shift to a more hostile
position towards Israel. This fluidity was something that benefited both Israel and
Main areas from which Arabs Lebanon

fled, Apr–Dec 1948 14% – 100,000 Iraq
Towns with large Arab 0.6% – 4,000
populations which fled
Percentage of refugees
%
reaching new areas
Safed Syria
Acre
10% – 75,000
Haifa
Tiberius
Beisan
The West Bank

Jaffa 38% – 380,000
Ramle
Trans Jordan
The Gaza Strip 10% – 70,000
26% – 190,000
Beer Sheva
Egypt
1% – 7,000
Figure 3.3 Palestinian refugee movements
its adversaries as they were able to manipulate both US and Soviet interests for
their own benefit, particularly in times of crisis.
The Cold War in the Middle East

The Dawn of the Cold War in the Middle East
The ordering principle of Cold War bipolarity defined global politics from the
mid-1940s to the 1980s. Here, it has been a common view that throughout this
period governments across the world, a number that increased dramatically after
World War II with the waves of decolonisation, were not simply part of a super-
power ‘bloc’, but operated in concert with their superpower patron. The Middle
East is particularly interesting in this regard. The region was a logical site for
Cold War competition for two reasons: first, its strategic location and second, the
presence of two-thirds of the world’s oil supply. As such, both the US and Soviet
Union during the Cold War sought to exert control over the regimes of the region
in a variety of ways.
US presidential advisor and businessman Bernard Baruch coined the term Cold War in
April 1947 to describe the emerging geopolitical environment dominated by the United
States and Soviet Union.
Whilst it is difficult to identify the origins of the term bipolar to describe the global
environment during the Cold War, it became popularised by leading scholars and policy
analysts such as Raymond Aron, who defined it as an environment where ‘two actors
dominate their rivals to such a degree that both become the center of a coalition and
the secondary actors are obliged to situate themselves in relation to the two “blocs”,
thus joining one or another, unless they have the opportunity to abstain’ (1966: 128).
It may be argued that the first manifestation of the Cold War was in the Middle
East in Iran and Turkey, with additional links to the conflict in Greece, reflecting
a history of tension between Russia/the Soviet Union and its southern neighbours.
At the end of World War II, the Soviet Union began to pressure Iran for oil conces-
sions in the northwest, whilst continuing to pressure Turkey over access through the
Black Sea Straits and funnelling direct support to the Greek communist insurgency.
In response, US President Truman announced the Truman Doctrine that called for
the US to support ‘free peoples who are resisting attempted subjugation by armed
minorities or by outside pressures’.
US diplomat George F. Kennan developed the concept of containment, articulated

in his 1947 article ‘The Sources of Soviet Conduct’ for the publication Foreign Affairs.
Writing under the pseudonym ‘X’ to avoid implications for his diplomatic postings,
Kennan argued that the Soviet Union, after World War II, had ‘expansive tendencies’
that must be met with ‘patient but firm and vigilant containment’ through the ‘applica-
tion of counterforce at a series of constantly shifting geographical and political points’.
For Kennan, this was to be achieved through political and economic acts, particularly
alliances, rather than direct military confrontation (1947: 575–6).
In other words, the US would actively assist in the prevention/suppression of com-

munist uprisings and seek to curtail external (Soviet) assistance for these uprisings.
The focus here was to prevent communism spreading, at least initially, into Greece
and Turkey. In relation to Iran, there was tension between the British and Soviets
over the status of minority (Kurdish and Azeri) territories in the northwest, areas
occupied by the Soviets during World War II. However, despite efforts on the
part of the Soviets to pursue autonomy for these communities (that they hoped
would translate into greater Soviet access to potential resources in the Caspian
region), Soviet and pro-communist sympathisers were quickly marginalised by the
pro-Western government in Tehran after the war.
Republics and Monarchies

The influence of the Cold War superpowers, in simple terms, can initially be under-
stood as a general trend towards the emergence of conservative monarchies that
tended to establish close relations with the United States and often ‘radical’ nation-
alist republics that gravitated towards the Soviet Union. Here, the correspondence
between regional regimes and superpower allies took place largely through bilateral
relationships rather than regional multilateral alliance frameworks. It was during
this period, from the mid-1950s through to the late 1970s, that the geopolitical
order of the Middle East appeared to reflect the global bipolar system.
The gravitation of regimes towards either superpower gave the impression of
direct superpower control. For some, the Middle East was ‘deeply and ceaselessly
caught up in Great Power politics’ (Sayigh and Shlaim, 1997: 2). Central to this
idea is the view that the lack of democratic development in the Middle East at this
time was a result of Cold War machinations. This is a crucial point, and one that
continues to frame debate today, particularly on US foreign policy in the Middle
East – namely, that the emergence and survival of military republican regimes in
Egypt, Iraq, Syria, Algeria, South Yemen and Libya alongside closed monarchical
regimes in Saudi Arabia, Oman, the United Arab Emirates (UAE), Bahrain, Qatar,
Kuwait, Jordan and Morocco were facilitated by their alignments with one of the
Cold War superpowers.
The Myth of Superpower Control?

However, the influence of the Cold War, or, more specifically, the influence of
superpowers over so-called client states has been inflated. Recent scholarship on
the Cold War, now with access to previously closed archives, reveals that regimes
were certainly referential to the dominant logic of the Cold War, but they were also
able to operate with a good measure of autonomy, and even able to manipulate the
US and Soviets to their own advantage (Angrist, 2010: 56; Ashton, 2007; Barrett,
2007; Halliday, 2005; Khalidi, 2009; Sayigh and Shlaim, 1997). Therefore, the rela-
tionships between regional regimes and superpowers was one of interaction rather
Table 3.1 Regime types in the Middle East after World War II
State Independence Regime Type
Algeria 1962 Republic (since 1962)

Bahrain 1971 Monarchy (since 1971)
Egypt 1922 Monarchy (1922–52)
Republic (since 1952)
Iran No colonial rule* Monarchy (1925–79)
Islamic Republic (since 1979)
Iraq 1932 Monarchy (1932–58)
Israel 1948 Republic (since 1948)
Jordan 1946 Monarchy (since 1946)
Kuwait 1961 Monarchy (since 1961)
Lebanon 1943 Republic (since 1943)
Libya 1951 Monarchy (1951–69)
Morocco 1956 Monarchy (since 1666**)
Oman No colonial rule Monarchy (since 751)
Palestinian Territories Status to be determined Status to be determined
Qatar 1971 Monarchy (since 1971)
Saudi Arabia 1932 Monarchy (since 1932)
Sudan Republic (since 1956***)
Syria 1946 Republic (since 1946)
Tunisia 1956 Republic (since 1956)
Turkey 1923 Republic (since 1923)
United Arab Emirates 1971 Monarchy (since 1971)
United Arab Republic 1958–61 Republic****
Yemen (North) 1918–90 Monarchy (1918–62)
Republic (1962–90)
Yemen (South) 1967–90 Communist Republic (1967–90)
Yemen 1990 (unification) Republic (since 1990)
*
Iran was occupied by the British and the Soviet Union from 1941 to 1946.
**
The Alaouite dynasty have ruled Morocco under Ottoman and French authority since 1666.
***
The southern regions of Sudan seceded via referendum in July 2011.
****
The United Arab Republic was a union between Egypt and Syria.
than simply direction, where local governments were able to pursue their own policy
priorities, at times manipulating superpowers to their own ends (Halliday, 2005:
98–9; Sluglett in Fawcett, 2009: 52). These policy priorities related primarily to the
security of the state in regional terms as well as the survival of regimes. In addition,
it was not clear, at least until the 1960s, which states were aligned with which super-
powers. Thus, the view of a Middle East replicating a global pattern of superpower
allegiance does not reflect the dynamics of the region, particularly during the early
years of the Cold War.
The Non-Aligned Movement (NAM) was founded in the former Yugoslavia in 1961
as a loose association of states that sought to exert independence within the bipolar
Cold War context. Made up primarily of states that achieved independence after World
War II, the organisation aimed to extend principles of non-intervention and non-military
solutions to conflicts. It was founded by Egypt’s President Nasser along with Yugoslav
President Josip Tito, Indonesian President Sukarno, Indian Prime Minister Jawaharlal
Nehru and Ghana’s President Kwame Nkrumah. Limited in mandate, it currently has 120
member states and was chaired in 2012 by the Chair of the former transitional Supreme
Council for the Armed Forces of Egypt, Mohamed Hussein Tantawi.
Indeed, the interference of external powers in the Middle East was not limited to
the Cold War period. It may be argued that this has increased since the end of the
Cold War. Cold War interference was largely directed towards the maintenance and
stabilisation of existing regimes rather than their overthrow. This was not a uniform
process, of course, but efforts to overthrow regimes were more the exception than
the rule. This has shaped much of the modern discourse on the interests of outside
powers, particularly the US, in the Middle East.
The Suez Crisis

The Suez Crisis is commonly presented as symbolising the transfer of power from the
colonial powers to the new Cold War superpowers in the Middle East. Whilst this
is certainly true, this event also captures how Middle Eastern states were able to use
Cold War dynamics for their own interests. In particular, the contest for control over
the vital waterway enabled a post-revolutionary regime in Egypt to not only challenge
Britain, France and Israel, but to also extend its authority throughout the region.
British control over the Suez Canal Zone had been an issue of great sensitivity in
Egypt as it symbolised colonial domination and control. Even after Egyptian inde-
pendence in 1922, the British remained in control of the canal, in addition to having
Buhayrat al Port Said Mediterranean Sea

Manzilah Bur Fu´ád
Al Matariyah Sabkhat
Al Manzilah Khalij al
al Bardawil
Tinah
Suez
Bi´r al Ábd
Bi´r ar
Rummánah
Al Qanjarah
Abu Kabir
Canal
Faqus
Ismailia Bi´r Hammah
Tur’al all smá’lllyah
Great Bitter Mamarr al Bi´r al Jifjafah

Lake Khutmiyah
Fàíd Gidi Pass
Little Bitter
Lake
E G Y P T Bi´r ath Thamadah
Suez
Suez Canal Mitla Pass
Al Adabiyah Uyun Musá

r
ud
a rr S
Mam
Àyn Sukhnah Sudr
Figure 3.4 The Suez Canal Zone
a large British garrison near the city of Port Said. Despite a pro-British monarchy
under King Farouq, popular sentiment calling for an end to the British presence
grew. This also took root in the Egyptian military. This institution was highly influ-
ential in Egypt, with the middle ranking officer corps staffed by Egyptians from
working-class backgrounds. It was this group that became the most effective and
organised opposition to the British through the late 1940s and early 1950s, pressur-
ing the monarchy into abrogating the 1936 Anglo–Egyptian Treaty in 1951, which
ended the British lease on the Canal Zone. However, continued support for the
British presence by the Egyptian monarch saw the military remove him from power
on 23 July 1952 in a bloodless coup. This became known as the Free Officers’ Coup,
named after the officers who led the change in government under Major-General
Muhammad Neguib and Colonel Gamal abd al-Nasser.
Neguib, Nasser and the Free Officers abolished the monarchy, proclaimed Egypt
a republic and set about implementing a series of reforms aimed at economic cen-
tralisation, development and industrialisation, as well as propagating a vision of Arab
nationalism that questioned the legitimacy of the new state system in the region.
Specifically, they viewed the newly independent Arab states as representing an effort
at colonial divide and rule, and advocated regional political unity. However, divisions
soon emerged between Neguib, who sought a transfer of power to civilian rule and
inclusion of the Muslim Brotherhood in the political system, and Nasser, who advo-
cated direct governance through the military. Nasser managed to wrest control of the
military high command and forced Neguib from power in February 1954.
Nasser championed state-led economic development with the construction of
the Aswan Dam, which was a centrepiece of the new economic policy (Baxter and
Akbarzadeh, 2008: 47). He sought funding from both the US and UK for the
building of the dam, who, in return, demanded a pledge from Nasser that he would
engage in negotiations with Israel. However, the UK remained apprehensive due to
Nasser replacing the pro-British monarchy, with this apprehension leading Nasser
to court the Soviets. By the mid-1950s, the US were increasingly concerned about
a Soviet invasion of the region, but calculated that they lacked the resources to
counter an intervention, and so they sought to entice Nasser into the pro-Western
Baghdad Pact. Nasser remained focused on the British as the source of Egyptian
insecurity, however, and thus did not respond to US overtures regarding the Soviet
threat. Instead, Nasser saw this as an opportunity to play the US and Soviets against
each other, hoping for US arms, as they would be more compatible with the largely
British weaponry the Egyptians possessed. However, the Eisenhower adminis-
tration could not convince the domestic audience to support this due to Egypt’s
increasingly confrontational stance vis-à-vis Israel.
As it emerged that arms from the US would not be forthcoming, Nasser negoti-
ated an arms deal with communist Czechoslovakia in September 1955, the first
substantial pro-Soviet agreement in the Arab world. For their part, the French
were increasingly concerned about Nasser’s support for the conflict in Algeria that
sought to overthrow French rule. The US position was separate from the Anglo–
French–Israeli view of Egypt, as the United States sought to expand their influence
in the Arab world primarily through their growing relationship with the Saudis,
who were opposed to the Hashemite monarchies in Iraq and Jordan.
However, it was the Egyptian recognition of the People’s Republic of China in
May 1956 that saw the US withdraw funding for the Aswan Dam project in July,
effectively ending efforts by the US to court Nasser. As funding for the Aswan
Dam project fell through, Nasser nationalised the Suez Canal on 26 July, seizing the
assets of the Canal Company and blocking the canal as well as closing the Straits
of Tiran and the Gulf of Aqaba to Israeli shipping. In response, Britain, France and
Israel formulated a plan whereby Israel would invade the Sinai Peninsula, and the
UK and France would intervene to ostensibly separate the parties on either side of
the canal. This would effectively give Israel possession of Sinai, with the UK and
France taking control of the Canal Zone.
Here, the use of superpower allegiances by regional regimes to pursue their goals
was clear. Whilst not dictating events, Nasser’s nationalisation of the Suez Canal
saw him elevated to the status of regional hero in confronting the colonial pow-
ers. In addition, this event also symbolised the transfer of power away from the
European states to the Cold War powers as the key players in the region. In this
regard, neither the British, French, nor Israelis consulted with the US on their plans
for invasion, working under the assumption that the US would back them in a fur-
ther push to remove the increasingly pro-Soviet Nasser from power.
This plan was launched with the Israeli invasion (‘Operation Kadesh’) of the
Sinai on 29 October 1956 quickly pushing towards the Canal Zone. The British
and French launched their campaign (‘Operation Musketeer’) on 31 October, shell-
ing the Canal Zone and bombing Egyptian air force installations. The Egyptian
army had pulled out of the Canal Zone by the start of November, with British
paratroopers taking Port Said at the mouth of the Canal by 5 November. However,
whilst the military operation was successful, both the domestic reaction in Britain
and the international response was highly critical.
Republican President Eisenhower and Secretary of State Dulles sought to apply
sanctions to Israel, an action resisted by the Democrat-controlled Congress, particu-
larly Lyndon Johnson who would become President in 1963. This is an important
point to note in the shifting patterns of the US position vis-à-vis the Israeli–Palestinian
conflict. Specifically, whilst the Republican Party has positioned itself as the closest
ally of Israel, up to the 1980s the Democratic Party had been the most vocal in their
support of the Jewish state. This changed under the Reagan administration and the
ascendancy of successive Likud governments in Israel from this point.
The US initiated negotiations in the UN to end the Suez Crisis via a request
from Nasser. However, the Security Council remained deadlocked due to vetoes
from the UK and France. Despite this, the UK and France agreed to withdraw
from the Canal Zone, with British Prime Minister Anthony Eden resigning as a
result. Israel initially refused to negotiate, with Israeli Prime Minister Ben Gurion
announcing that the 1949 armistice with Egypt was now void before retreating
from this position and announcing an Israeli withdrawal by mid-November.
The Suez Crisis represented the transfer of dominant external interests from the
European to the Cold War powers, particularly the US, in the Middle East. This
was already a reality, but was now clearly demonstrated. In addition, it saw the rise
of Nasser as the key player in Arab politics through the 1950s and 1960s. In the
context of decolonisation and the rise of radical nationalist politics, including the
1958 Revolution in Iraq and the emergence of similar regimes in Syria and Algeria,
Nasser’s Egypt would become the most influential Arab state.
For the US, this period saw their increasing focus on the Middle East, symbol-
ised in the 1957 Eisenhower Doctrine that aimed at reassuring US allies in the
region. The doctrine centred on funding for states who asked for assistance ‘against
covert armed aggression from any nation controlled by international communism’.
Whilst the US had supported Nasser during the crisis, the growing regional influ-
ence of his regime alongside the developing friendship between Egypt and the
Soviet Union led them to focus on efforts to counter the potential spread of Soviet
influence through seeking to stem the flow of Soviet arms, advisors and funds to
many states within the region.
An Arab Cold War: Egypt and Saudi Arabia in Yemen

As with the Suez Crisis, the Cold War logic continued to be exploited by regional
states for their own benefit from the 1950s. In particular, from the 1950s to the
1970s, Egypt and Saudi Arabia vied for influence across the region, leveraging their
relationships with the Soviets and US respectively to extend their influence through
the region. This confrontation replicated the logic of the Cold War, not in terms of
Egypt being a communist state and Saudi Arabia championing liberal democracy,
SAUDI ARABIA
YEMEN
International Boundaries
SADAH Governorate Boundaries
Sadah Former North/South Boundary (approx.)
Country Capital AL-MAHRAH
RED AMRAN AL-JAWF
SEA Governorate Capital Al-Ghaydah
HAJJAH Al-Harm
Amran HADRAMAUT
Hajjah
MARIB
Al-Mahwit Sanaa Marib
SANAA
AL-MAHWIT SHABWAH
Al-Hudaydah DHAMAR
AL-HUDAYDAH Al-Mukalla
Dhamar Ataq
AL-BAYDA Socotra
RAYMAH (YEMEN)
Al-Bayda
Hanish Islands IBB Ibb AD DALI
(YEMEN) Ad Dali
Taiz ABJAN
ER TAIZ
LAHIJ
IT
REA
Lahij Zinjibar
Aden
ADAN GULF OF ADEN
Figure 3.5 North and South Yemen

but in terms of two major powers competing for influence whilst exporting this
conflict. The key flashpoint for this came with the eruption of civil war in Yemen in
the 1960s, in which both Egypt and Saudi Arabia would intervene.
Yemen was under Ottoman authority from 1872 to 1913, when control reverted
to the al-Qasimi dynasty under Imam Yahya Muhammad. The borders of the
modern Yemeni state took shape throughout the 19th and 20th centuries in con-
frontation with the emerging state of Saudi Arabia and British control over the
port of Aden. In 1934, the British signed the Treaty of Sanaà with Imam Yahya,
formalising the division between North and South Yemen. Imam Yahya was assas-
sinated in 1948 and succeeded by his son Ahmad bin Yahya Hamidaddin. Ahmad
bin Yahya drew Yemen closer to Egypt and Syria, joining the short-lived United
Arab Republic between 1958 and 1961 as well as forging a close relationship with
the Soviet Union and China. Ahmad’s foreign policy was motivated by a desire to
annex the British holdings in South Yemen. During the latter years of his rule, the
imam survived a number of coup and assassination attempts from within the mili-
tary, whilst increasingly suffering from ill health. As a result, authority was gradually
transferred to Ahmad’s heir Muhammad al-Badr, who formally took the throne on
Ahmad’s death in September 1962.
Al-Badr assumed the throne as the military and tribal forces were developing
a range of challenges to the central government. In addition, Egypt’s President
Nasser saw Yemen as having a key part in his endeavour to spread his authority and
nationalist ideology. As al-Badr took the throne, senior military officer Abdullah
as-Sallal launched a coup that overthrew the monarchy and established a republic.
Nasser backed the coup whilst al-Badr called on the Saudis for assistance. This led
to a rapid escalation in violence between republican and royalist forces, with an
estimated 200,000 tribesmen mobilised against the republican government backed
by Saudi and Jordanian aid. By 1965, Nasser had deployed over 70,000 Egyptian
soldiers in support of Sallal’s regime.
Whilst casualties were primarily on the royalist side, the conflict degenerated
without a clear outcome. In addition, despite numerous negotiations, Nasser and
Saudi King Faisal could not come to an agreement, continuing their assistance
to the warring parties. However, Egypt’s focus on Yemen hindered its ability to
respond to the Israeli attack of 1967, and so, finding himself confronted by an over-
whelming military defeat at the hands of Israel, Nasser agree to withdraw his troops
later in 1967. This coincided with the British announcement that they would aban-
don their colony in the southern Yemeni port of Aden. British administration was
replaced by the only communist government in the Middle East, in South Yemen,
a regime that immediately called for the overthrow of all monarchies in the region,
with a focus on Saudi Arabia. As a result, the Saudis acquiesced to the demands
of the republican government in North Yemen, seeing the civil war slowly wind
down in the last years of the 1960s, as Riyadh turned its attention to countering
the potential spread of challenges from the new South Yemeni government. Egypt,
for its part, would retreat from a regional role after 1967 and particularly after the
death of Nasser in 1970.
Whilst Yemen would reunite under the authority of the government in the north
in 1990, this episode highlights the interconnectedness of regional affairs, particu-
larly in terms of the efforts of larger states to exert their influence over smaller
states. Whilst there was a mirroring of Cold War logic, with a pro-Soviet republican
Egypt under Nasser confronting a pro-Western Saudi monarchy for regional domi-
nance, this was not simply a replication of Soviet or US interests at the regional
level. Cairo and Riyadh were pursuing their own regional ambitions, with ideology
or support for Republican or Monarchical systems a cover for the expansion of
national interests. In this regard, both Riyadh and Cairo exploited their superpower
patrons in pursuit of this. This would be a trend that would be replicated later in the
confrontation between Saudi Arabia and Saddam Hussein’s Iraq throughout the
1980s, and in recent years between Saudi Arabia, in conjunction with increasingly
assertive Gulf states such as Qatar, and the Islamic Republic of Iran in the context
of the post-2003 US invasion of Iraq
The Lebanese Civil War

The conflict that captures the interconnection between internal and external
dynamics, and the opaque nature of external interests and influence in the region
perhaps better than any other is the Lebanese Civil War. From 1975 to 1990, this
small state in the Levant descended into a situation of violent conflict between its
many sectarian communities, with invasions from both Israel and Syria, that led to
over 150,000 deaths and many more displaced.
The Levant refers to the area bordering the eastern Mediterranean and encompassing
modern-day Lebanon, Israel–Palestine, Syria and Jordan.
The Particularity of Lebanese Politics

The Lebanese state is based on a political arrangement forged in the final decades
of Ottoman rule. The Capitulations Treaties led to increasingly direct European
intervention in various parts of the Empire. One example of this was played out in
the area today known as Lebanon, a highly diverse region around Mount Lebanon
on the eastern shore of the Mediterranean. Conflict between the Maronite Catholic
and Druze communities in this area in 1860 led to French intervention on behalf of
the Maronites, and the establishment of an autonomous zone that would form the
nucleus of the modern Lebanese state (Khalifah, 2001).
Ottoman defeat in World War I led to the establishment of the League of
Nations Mandates, with French authority established over an expanded Lebanese
territory. From the 1920s to the 1940s, the French sponsored the development of a
political bargain to allay the concerns of the Maronite and Muslim communities in
this territory. This was formalised in 1926, with confessional identity to serve as the
political organising principle in the country. That is, the Lebanese political system
would be built around a person’s religious identity, as codified in one of 11 different
‘official’ communities.
The Maronites are a Catholic community that was established in the region of Mount
Lebanon in the 5th century ce. It is estimated that there are roughly 1 million Maronites
in Lebanon (25% of the population) with 3–4 million worldwide.
The Druze are a religious community found in Lebanon, Syria, Israel and Jordan. With
roots in Shià Islam, theirs is a unique reformist vision of Islam. There are an estimated
500,000 Druze in Lebanon, predominantly in the Chouf region.
In this respect, the 1932 census, the last official census in Lebanon, claimed to
show a Christian majority of 51.3% of the population. As a result, after indepen-
dence in 1943, the Lebanese political system was organised confessionally, with
political representation allocated according to religious affiliation and based on the
percentages of the census. Political posts were also allocated according to religious
community, with a permanent Maronite President, Sunni Muslim Prime Minister
and Shià Muslim Speaker of the House, and a division of parliamentary seats
according to the ratio six Christian members to five Muslim members. The eleva-
tion of Maronite and broader Christian positions was seen as a trade-off for their
cooperation with the Muslim communities dominant in the north and south of the
country (Traboulsi, 2007).
As a result, Lebanon was a democracy with pre-determined limits of representa-
tion. Moreover, it was, from its beginnings, a state that rested on fragile foundations.
It required the participation of all designated groups, and in many ways the ability
of the state itself to survive was dependent on the leaders of the confessional com-
munities. This led to an early polarisation of Lebanese politics between the broadly
left-wing stances of the various Muslim communities and the more conservative,
right-wing politics espoused by many within the Christian communities.
Lebanon’s ‘official’ confessional communities are: (Christian) Maronite Catholic, Greek

Orthodox, Greek Catholic, Armenian Orthodox, Armenian Catholic, Syrian Orthodox,
Syrian Catholic, Protestant and (Muslim) Sunni, Shià, Druze, Alawi and Ismaili.
Lebanon and the Palestinian Question

Due to its weakness, and efforts by confessional groups to buttress their own
strength via relations with foreign governments, Lebanon has consistently been at
the mercy of regional affairs. This became apparent soon after independence and
the outbreak of the first Arab–Israeli war. Whilst Lebanon participated in the inva-
sion of what would become the State of Israel in 1948, it was the Palestinian refugee
issue that would have immediate and lasting impact.
The Palestinian Liberation Organisation (PLO) had been active in Jordan since the mid-
1960s. Tensions between the PLO and the Jordanian monarchy escalated, reaching their
peak with the clashes of Black September in 1970. After a series of plane hijackings
by the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine (PFLP) through 1970, Jordanian King
Hussein declared martial law and attacked the headquarters of the PLO. After several
thousand deaths, the PLO leadership left Jordan for Lebanon in 1971.
In particular, the arrival of over 100,000 largely Sunni Muslim Palestinian refugees
from its southern neighbour through the late 1940s and early 1950s put immediate
strain on the delicate sectarian balance in the country. As with all other Arab states
with the exception of Jordan, the Lebanese government did not grant citizenship to
the refugee community. This led to the founding of large Palestinian refugee camps
throughout the country that existed largely separately from ‘normal’ political life in
Lebanon (Fisk, 2001).
Whilst this was managed through the 1950s and 1960s, with the exception of a
brief conflict in Lebanon in 1958, the 1967 War with Israel would have an inadvert-
ently dramatic affect on stability in Lebanon. Specifically, with Israel’s invasion and
occupation of the West Bank territories in 1967, the PLO shifted its operations
to Jordan then, after 1970, to Lebanon. From this new base, the PLO launched
operations into Israel from the north. PLO operations in Lebanon were conducted
under the guidelines established in the so-called ‘Cairo Declaration’ of 1969. The
declaration effectively transferred authority within the 16 largest refugee camps in
Lebanon from the Lebanese military to the PLO. In essence, the Cairo Declaration
enabled the establishment of a PLO-controlled state within a state in Lebanon, a
Camp Population Nahr el-Bared

45,000 Tripon
20,000 Beddawi
8,000 NORTH
LEBANON
ea
n S
nea
rra
Wavel
dite
CENTRAL
Dbayeh
LEBANON
Me
BEKAA
Mar Elias
Shatila
Burj el-Barajneh
CAMPS REGISTERED
REFUGEES (1)
Mar Elias 612
SAIDA Burj el-Barajneh 15,484
Ein el-Hilweh Dbayeh 4,002
Mieh Mieh Shatila 8,212
Ein el-Hilweh 45,004
Mieh Mieh 4,473
El-Buss 9,287
TYRE Rashidieh 25,745
El-Buss Burj el-Shemali 18,625
Nahr el-Bared 30,439
N
Burj el-Shemali W E
Beddawi 15,641
Wavel 7,551
Rashidieh S
Order refugees (2) 25,877
0 10 20 KM
Figure 3.6 Palestinian refugee camps and numbers in Lebanon
base from which they would conduct a series of raids against Israel. These raids led
to increasing Israeli reprisals against Lebanon, particularly against the predominantly
Shià communities in the south of the country.
Civil War and External Involvement in Lebanon

The weakness of the Lebanese state and increasing rivalries between the leaders
of the confessional communities, combined with the conflict between the PLO
and Israel that spilled over the southern border, saw Lebanon drawn increasingly
towards conflict. In this atmosphere, resistance to confessionalism became increas-
ingly organised through the late 1960s and early 1970s, particularly amongst Sunni
Muslim and Druze groups. These groups, now under the banner of the Lebanese
National Movement (LNM) led by Druze leader Kamal Jumblatt, called for the
replacement of the 1932 census and a restructuring of the political system to reflect
what they alleged were new political and demographic realities.
The Maronite community saw this as a threat to the National Pact, and therefore
as reneging on the compromise that led to the establishment of the Lebanese state
in 1943. In addition, tensions between the Maronite leadership and the Palestinian
leadership began to escalate as the former saw the latter as emboldening the Muslim
community in Lebanon to threaten to overturn the system that guaranteed them
their privileged political position (Khalifah, 2001). As a result, each community
began to arm its own militias, with both sides drawing on manpower at the expense
of the already weak Lebanese army. Effectively, the state lost control, with sectar-
ian leaders, many backed by external partners such as Syria, threatening conflict.
Remaining antagonistic to the idea of Lebanon being separated from what it saw
as the natural Greater Syria, and hemmed in through the Israeli occupation of the
Golan Heights in 1967, the Baàthist regime of Hafiz al-Assad in Syria began
actively campaigning to unsettle the Lebanese government as a means to extend
its control into Lebanon as well as to gain increasing control over the progressively
more powerful PLO.
Tensions escalated into 1975 before a series of retributive killings between the
Palestinian and Maronite communities in April ignited war between the now well-
armed and organised militias across the country. One of the first manifestations of
the war, and one of its enduring features, was the targeting of civilian populations
by the militia organisations. Civilian identification cards in Lebanon carried the
confessional affiliation of each Lebanese citizen. As the fighting degenerated into
1976, neighbourhoods within Lebanon’s larger cities and towns became strong-
holds for particular militia organisations. Civilians travelling through these areas
were forcibly identified by these cards and removed and even killed when present in
an ‘enemy’ area. In this way, entire districts within Beirut and its surroundings were
ethnically and confessionally cleansed. This was particularly so in Muslim West
Beirut and Christian East Beirut, a division that became marked by the so-called
‘Green Line’ that divided the city in two (Khalaf, 2002).
Syria and Lebanon

It would not take long for external parties to become directly involved. In 1976,
as the LNM and PLO looked likely to impose a total military victory over the
Christian militias operating under the umbrella group the Lebanese Forces (LF),
the Syrians responded to a request from Maronite President Suleiman Franjiyeh
for intervention. Intervention by the Syrians on the side of the Christian mili-
tias, many of whom had sought to develop ties with Israel, appears, on the
surface, counterintuitive. However, Damascus saw this as an opportunity to gain
a foothold in Lebanon with at least the appearance of legality. For the Christian
militias, Syrian intervention prevented their defeat. However, the prevention of
an LNM victory served to perpetuate the conflict, as both sides found them-
selves closer to parity in terms of strength and proceeded to launch repeated
operations against each other, with the civilian population suffering massive
casualties. Fighting continued through the 1970s and 1980s, with confessionally
based alliances breaking down and militias fighting each other one month, then
forming makeshift allegiances the next.
Israel and Lebanon

The war intensified with the first of two Israeli invasions in 1978. The first engage-
ment, ‘Operation Litani’, was limited to the southern portion of the country. Again,
however, developments outside Lebanon would further unsettle the situation. The
Camp David Peace Accords between Egypt and Israel led Syria to fear Israel turning
its full attention on them. Therefore, the continuation of a second front against Israel
through Lebanon became increasingly important. As a result, Syria withdrew from
its already cooling alliance with the Christian militias and began to openly support
the PLO. This enabled an intensification of PLO actions on Israel’s northern border.
As a result, Israeli Prime Minister Menachim Begin and Defence Minister Ariel
Sharon began drawing up a plan for a large-scale ground invasion of Lebanon that
they hoped would destroy the PLO. In addition, the plan also aimed to remove the
Syrian army from Lebanon and sponsor the installation of a friendly Christian
government in Beirut. Whilst the Israeli parliament (Knesset) was increasingly
opposed to the idea, with Begin distancing himself from the plan in early 1982,
Sharon continued with it, leading to the launching of ‘Operation Peace for Galilee’
on 6 June 1982 (Schiff and Yaàri, 1985).
Despite assurances to the Israeli cabinet, this invasion was not limited to the
south as Sharon led a push to Beirut, laying siege to the Muslim western half of the
city to eliminate the PLO leadership stationed there. With the Israeli army besieg-
ing Beirut, fierce fighting took place between the Israelis, the Christian militias, the
PLO and the Syrians. International mediation efforts ensued, with the PLO agree-
ing to withdraw from Beirut under a multinational escort headed by France and the
United States. This was accompanied by the appointment of Bashir Gemayel as the
new President of Lebanon on 23 August. With most of Israel’s objectives appar-
ently achieved, one of the most notorious episodes of the war took place.
Gemayel was assassinated on 14 September, throwing Israel’s and the LF’s plans
into chaos. In response, the Israeli army violated the ceasefire and entered West Beirut
with elements of the Maronite militias. Claiming that those who had committed the
assassination had sought refuge in the Palestinian refugee camps at Sabra and Shatilla
in southern Beirut, the Israeli army barricaded the camps and allowed Phalange
units to enter them. Once inside, the Phalange systematically executed over 1,000
Palestinian civilians, including women and children, with no sign of any remaining
PLO. The massacre shocked the world, including the Israeli public, and led to the
resignations of both Begin and Sharon by 1983 and the complete loss of public sup-
port for the Israeli actions in Lebanon. Israeli forces steadily withdrew from Lebanon
throughout 1983; however, they continued to occupy the southern strip along the
border until 2000.
Iran and Lebanon

The 1982 Israeli invasion would have a side-effect that would change the security
landscape for all the states of the region. After the 1979 Islamic Revolution in Iran,
the new regime found itself in confrontation with the United States, isolated from
the Soviets and in tension with the Arab states, particularly after the outbreak of
war between Iraq and Iran in 1980. As a result, Iran actively looked to expand its
sphere of influence. Its solid relations with Syria proved to be beneficial in this
respect, allowing them access to Lebanon’s large Shià community.
The Shi ` a are the largest single group in Lebanon, constituting an estimated 35–40%
of the population. Historically marginalised, the Shià have become increasingly empow-
ered since the civil war, particularly through their main party, Hezbollah.
Lebanon’s Shià population have traditionally been marginalised, both politically

and economically. This has been exacerbated by the growth of the community
demographically, where they form the single largest confessional community in the
country. Traditionally represented by the Amal Party, Iran sought to sponsor the cre-
ation of a new, more confrontational group that would also enable it to exert greater
influence in the country and to confront Israel and, by extension, the United States.
Hezbollah (Party of God) emerged from the chaotic situation in southern Lebanon
that stemmed from both the 1978 and 1982 Israeli invasions. After its founding, it
used the platform of the Lebanese Civil War to attack high-profile US and French
targets, for example the April 1983 bombing of the heavily fortified US Embassy in
Beirut that killed over 60 people, and the subsequent bombing of the multinational
forces’ barracks in October that year that killed 299 US and French service peo-
ple. The attack on the US–French barracks was the largest single-day death toll for
US troops since the Vietnam War and shocked the US public. The US and France
steadily wound down their operations in Lebanon through the 1980s, despite some
continued involvement in efforts to release US hostages held by Hezbollah in a

bargain with Iran. These negotiations later emerged as the Iran–Contra scandal,
further tarnishing the US reputation in Lebanon.
An End to the War

From the mid-1980s, the conflict in Lebanon degenerated into a series of clashes
and counter-clashes between the various militia organisations, as various attempts
at negotiation and peace failed. Finally, internal fighting within the Christian com-
munity and a series of peace initiatives assisted by the UN led to talks in the Saudi
Arabian city of Taef. This resulted in the Taef Agreement, a document that re-set
Lebanon’s confessional balance with some minor adjustments. The biggest change
was the formalisation of the Syrian military presence in Lebanon, a de facto military
occupation that would last until 2005, as well as the formalisation of Hezbollah’s
status as a sub-state militia in confrontation with Israel. Thus, Lebanon remained a
highly fragile state, dependent on the acquiescence of all confessional leaders. The
war did, however, herald the arrival of an increasingly assertive Shià community, as
well as positioning Lebanon more squarely in the conflict with Israel and allowing
Iran and Syria greater leverage in the region, all of which occurred despite the inter-
ests of the Cold War superpowers (MacQueen, 2009).
The Iran–Iraq War and Cold War Machinations

Perhaps the clearest example of how the Cold War superpowers were able to affect
state behaviour was their involvement in the war between Iran and Iraq from 1980
to 1988. More specifically, the United States sought to balance its tense but func-
tional relationship with Saddam Hussein’s Iraq and its open hostility with the
Islamic Republic of Iran. However, in seeking to pursue the short-term goal of
ensuring Iran was damaged by the war, whilst limiting the potential growing power
of Saddam’s Iraq, the US inadvertently locked itself into a course that would foster
the growth of anti-American sentiment in the Middle East as well as see it engage
in military operations in Iraq through the 1990s, culminating in the 2003 invasion
and occupation of Iraq.
History of Iraq–Iran Tensions and the US Role

Where Iraq was a relatively ‘new’ state, coming to independence in 1932, the Arab
frontier had a tradition of confrontation with its Persian neighbour. Central to spe-
cific disputes between Iran and Iraq has been the issue of territory. The formation
of the Iraqi state was done in such a way as to ensure British control over access
to the Persian Gulf. To do this, the British ceded territory to the future state of
Kuwait that would have given Iraq full access to the Persian Gulf. As the British
remained in control of Kuwait until its independence in 1961, Iraq continued to
be a largely landlocked country, with its only maritime access through the Shatt
al-Arab waterway.
Here, Iraq had consistently agitated for territorial claims against both Kuwait,
a territory it considered to be part of its own claims, and Iran, particularly over
the Shatt al-Arab waterway. The Shatt was traditionally shared between Iran and
Iraq, with treaties in the 18th, 19th and 20th centuries establishing principles of
either joint control or direct Iranian control. However, relations between the two
countries deteriorated throughout the 1970s, with armed clashes over the Shatt in
1971 as well as Iranian military actions in the Gulf and Iraqi support of a Kurdish
insurgency in Iran’s northwest. This led to negotiations between the Iraqi Baàthist
regime and the Iranian pro-Western monarch Shah Reza Pahlavi in Algiers in 1975.
This agreement resulted in, amongst other things, a decision to share the waterway
at its mid-point. Whilst short-term stability resulted from this agreement, subse-
quent events would upset the balance. In particular, the 1979 Islamic Revolution
in Iran, as well as Saddam Hussein formally taking hold of the regime in Baghdad,
dramatically altered the regional order.
The fragile tenets of the Algiers Agreement soon began to buckle under the strain
of renewed tensions between Iran and Iraq after this point. With 60% of Iraq’s popula-
tion Shià, the Shià character of the new Islamic Republic in Iran disturbed Saddam
and his largely Sunni ruling elite. In response, Baghdad increasingly agitated for
action against Iran, seeking financial support particularly from Saudi Arabia, framed
in terms of protecting the Arab world from revolutionary Iranian expansionism. The
Saudis and other Gulf states had their own Shià communities, with Bahrain also
having a Sunni minority government ruling over a disadvantaged Shià majority.
It was at this point that the United States became increasingly involved in the
simmering tension. The new revolutionary government in Tehran and the United
States were in open confrontation. This was based on a number of factors, includ-
ing the US role in toppling the democratically elected government of Mohammad
Mossadeq in 1953 and the intimate relationship between successive US administra-
tions and the Iranian monarchy that was overthrown by the revolution. Mossadeq
had become increasingly worrisome for both the US and Britain after his nation-
alisation of the Anglo-Iranian Oil Company (which would later become British
Petroleum, or BP) in 1951.
As a result, the US drew closer to Saddam’s regime in Baghdad, seeing him as
the most useful ally in confronting Iran. This was a relationship born out of mutual
Al Qurnah
Sh
Al Hammar
a
tt
al
Ar
Khorramshahr
ab

Al Başrah Abadan
AL BAŞRAH
Umm Qaşr
30°
Al Faw
Figure 3.7 The Shatt al-Arab waterway
interests rather than ideological affinity, however, again demonstrating the agency
employed by regional states in their dealings with the Cold War superpowers. This
would influence both US and Iraqi attitudes throughout the war, where the US
sought to keep a measure of distance between themselves and Saddam. Indeed,
as war became increasingly likely, the US saw their best outcome as supporting
Saddam to the point of containing Iran whilst avoiding the possibility of seeing
Iraq emerge as a regional power. The outcome of this, one that fitted with this stra-
tegic aim, was the prolonging of the Iran–Iraq War, seeing it become the longest
conventional war, including both World War I and II, of the 20th century.
The Course of the War

With the support of the Gulf states and the US, Iraq invaded Iran on
22 September 1980. The immediate gains made by the Iraqi army appeared to
vindicate the opinion that the new Iranian regime was vulnerable and would fall
within months. However, despite initial Iraqi gains, as well as billions in funding
from the Gulf states, the invasion appeared to consolidate the Iranian population
behind the Ayatollah Khomeini’s government. Indeed, by 1982, the Iraqi army
had been pushed out of Iranian territory, with the latter advancing into Iraq and
threatening Baghdad itself.
According to the US Energy Information Administration, the Gulf states (Iran, Iraq,
Kuwait, Saudi Arabia, Bahrain, Qatar and the UAE) produce over 25% of the world’s
oil supplies whilst holding over 55% of the world’s oil reserves. Saudi Arabia alone
possesses 20% of the world’s oil reserves.
From 1982 to 1988, the war became stuck in a stalemate, with neither side gaining
the upper hand. Iraq’s superior firepower was countered by the weight of numbers
on the Iranian side. Both sides targeted civilian populations, with rocket attacks on
cities and supply lines. In addition, Iraq deployed chemical weapons against both
Iranian troops and against Kurdish militias who rose in opposition to Saddam in
the north of the country. This latter issue would form a core part of the argument
for the need to ‘forcibly disarm’ Iraq in the lead-up to the 2003 US-led invasion.
US priorities here were articulated early. Prior to his electoral defeat by the
Republican candidate Ronald Reagan, President Jimmy Carter defined his foreign
policy position in 1980 as defined by ongoing instability in the Gulf. Responding to
the Iran–Iraq War, the Iranian Revolution and the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan in
1979, the Carter Doctrine made explicit the centrality of Persian Gulf security and sta-
bility as forming part of US national interests. As a result, ongoing events in this vital
strategic region would see the US drawn into a number of successive conflicts, often
with negative consequences for the way they were perceived across the Middle East.
The Iran–Contra Affair

As the war raged, both the US and the Soviets supported Iraq, seeing Iran as a
destabilising force. However, both superpowers were not averse to the war continu-
ing to sap the strength of both states. Here, the Soviets supplied limited assistance
to the Iraqi army, but tentatively sought to court the regime in Tehran. Their lim-
ited role in the conflict, in retrospect, did highlight their decreasing power, which
would culminate in the collapse of the Soviet Union by the end of the 1980s.
On 7 June 1981, Israel launched ‘Operation Opera’, a surprise air attack on the Osiraq
nuclear facility. Osiraq was built with French assistance. Whilst Iraq maintained that
the facility was for peaceful energy purposes, Israel maintained that it would lead to
Iraq gaining nuclear weapons capacity. The United Nations Security Council passed
Resolution 487 in response, condemning the attack, and allowed Iraq to claim compen-
sation from Israel. In 2009, Iraqi Prime Minister Nouri al-Maliki raised the possibility of
Iraq applying for compensation to begin construction of a new facility.
For the US, the situation became increasingly complicated. The Israeli attacks on
the Iraqi nuclear facility at Osiraq in 1981 highlighted the conflicting interests at
play. In addition, despite their funding for the war, the US allies in the Gulf were
increasingly worried that Iraq would emerge from the war with a powerful mili-
tary and ambitions to achieve greater regional influence. In line with the Carter
Doctrine, US concern centred on stable and reliable access to the Gulf, in terms
of the extraction and transportation of its oil. An emboldened Iraq was seen to
threaten this.
With renewed Cold War tensions, strategic decision-making became increas-
ingly complex for the Reagan Republican administration. In particular, the rise
of socialist regimes in Central and South America concerned the US greatly. The
seizure of power by the socialist Sandinista administration in Nicaragua in 1979
was central to these worries, as Washington feared this may lead to similar devel-
opments in neighbouring states. As a result, the US began to actively support the
overthrow of these regimes through funding insurgent movements, subsequently
articulated under the 1985 Reagan Doctrine.
In Nicaragua, the Reagan administration covertly funded the far-right ‘Contras’,
a group that engaged in guerrilla attacks against the Nicaraguan government as well
as attacks on civilians supportive of the government. Revelation of this led Congress
to pass the Boland Amendments that prohibited funding for the Contras and other
like movements.
In response, the Reagan administration made a decision that, for many, encap-
sulated their view that the continuation of the Iran–Iraq War served US strategic
interests. To raise money, National Security Council advisor Lieutenant Colonel
Oliver North led the planning of a scheme to circumvent the funding ban by sell-
ing arms to Iran and funnelling this money to the Contras. The US did not have
direct contact with the Iranians, however, so he dealt with them through Israel as
the third party, with the trade-off being Iran placing pressure on their Lebanese ally
Hezbollah to release a number of hostages it had taken during the Lebanese Civil
War. Iran was desperate for supplies, and US arms were welcome as the Iranian
army was essentially built by the US under the Shah’s regime.
This plan came undone when a plane carrying weapons for the Contras was shot
down over Nicaragua in November 1986. Later the same month, the Lebanese
newspaper Ash-Shiraà published information detailing the sale of arms to Iran and
the US role in pressuring for the release of hostages. Whilst Reagan managed to
avoid prosecution by denying direct involvement, North was convicted of receiving
illegal funds and destroying documents relevant to the case, along with a number of
other administration officials. In addition, the Nicaraguan government successfully
sued the US government at the International Court of Justice for compensation
that the US has refused to pay.
The Legacy of the War

As the war continued through to 1988, the US became militarily involved after an
Iranian sea mine destroyed the USS Samuel Roberts in April 1988. In response, the
US launched a series of actions against Iranian oil platforms in the Gulf as well as
sinking Iranian naval vessels. This engagement took a more unfortunate turn when
the US shot down Iran Air Flight 655, killing 290 civilians. Whilst the US claimed
this was a result of radar error, it led to a public backlash in the US and globally.
This event, and the sheer scale of destruction from the war, finally saw Iran and
Iraq accept the provisions of United Nations Security Council Resolution 598 in
July 1988. The resolution did not alter the territory of either state, and did not
include a provision for Iraq to pay reparations, a key Iranian demand. The eight-
year war claimed over 1 million Iranian lives and half a million Iraqi lives, as well
as incurring an estimated financial loss of over $500 billion for both states. These
figures touch on the scale of destruction suffered by each country, leaving legacies
that have been felt for decades.
In political terms, the war consolidated support for the Iranian revolutionary
regime and also enabled Saddam’s Iraq to develop one of the world’s largest and
most potent armed forces. However, Iraq remained in billions of dollars of debt
to the Gulf states, particularly the Saudis and Kuwait. This would be an issue
that would cause increasing tensions up to 1990, contributing to Iraq’s invasion of
Kuwait that year. Finally, the perceived double-dealing of the US in this conflict,
combined with their role in the subsequent war against Iraq after their invasion
of Kuwait, would contribute greatly to a simmering sense of anti-American senti-
ment across the region. Indeed, this conflict would feed directly into the rhetoric of
movements such as al-Qaeda, and their focus on the US as manipulating regional
politics for their own benefit.
Conclusion
The Cold War was critical in shaping the political dynamics of the Middle East.
However, as this chapter has sought to highlight, this was not necessarily a dynamic
of direct superpower control over regional allies. Instead, newly independent states
were astute in their manipulation of Cold War dynamics in strengthening their
rule and pursuing their regional interests. Whilst there was a reflection of the Cold
War political dynamic in terms of emerging political issues, as shown by the civil
war in Yemen, this was not always the case, as shown by external involvement in
the Iran–Iraq War. This discussion is expanded in Chapter 4 where the key political
ideologies shaping Middle Eastern politics, nationalism and Islamism, also repre-
sent this blend between the local, regional and global in Middle Eastern politics.
Study Questions
♦♦ How was the Middle East involved in World War II?

♦♦ What are the key controversies surrounding the establishment of the State
of Israel?
♦♦ What was the significance of the 1956 Suez Crisis?
♦♦ What characterised superpower involvement in the Middle East during the
Cold War?
♦♦ What were the major regime ‘types’ that emerged in the region upon
independence?
♦♦ Was there an ‘Arab Cold War’ and what is the significance of the 1962–70
Yemen Civil War in relation to this?
♦♦ In what ways does the Lebanese Civil War highlight connections between local,
regional and global political dynamics in the Middle East?
Further Reading
Karsh, Efraim (2002) The Iran–Iraq War, 1980–1988. London: Osprey.
A comprehensive examination of the longest conventional war of the 20th century,
from an examination of local, regional and global forces.
Morris, Benny (2001) Righteous Victims: A History of the Zionist–Arab Conflict,

1881–1999. New York: Alfred A. Knopf.
A controversial work of revisionist history, this volume re-examines the origins of
the State of Israel and the Israeli–Palestinian conflict to re-evaluate the parameters
of the Peace Process.
Pappé, Ilan (2006) The Israel–Palestine Question. London: Routledge.

A reappraisal of the main parameters of the Arab–Israeli conflict in light of recent
developments in both the Israeli and Palestinian communities.
Salibi, Kamal S. (1990) A House of Many Mansions: The History of Lebanon

Reconsidered. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press.
A seminal account of the cooperation and conflict between Lebanon’s sectarian
communities and how this political system has functioned – or not – since the
1920s.

References
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4
Nationalism,
Islamism and the
Politics of Ideology
Learning Objectives
♦♦ The influence of ideologies on politics in the 20th century, with reference to the
Middle East.
♦♦ The emergence of the ideology of Arab nationalism and its impacts on regional events.
♦♦ The emergence of the ideology of political Islamism and its impacts on regional events.
♦♦ How these ideologies took organisational form as well as being exploited by regional
regimes.
♦♦ The role of these ideologies in perpetuating authoritarian rule and the difficulties
faced by these ideologies in meeting popular expectations in the region.
TIMELINE
1928: Muslim Brotherhood founded 5–10 June 1967: The Six-Day War
in Egypt
17 July 1968: Ba` ath Party comes
22 March 1945: Arab League to power in Iraq
founded
28 September 1970: Gamal abd
7 April 1947: Ba` ath Party founded al-Nasser dies
in Syria
15 October 1970: Anwar Sadat
1951: Iraqi branch of the Baàth appointed President of Egypt
Party founded
13 November 1970: Hafiz al-Assad
15 July–25 October 1958: Civil war comes to power in Syria
in Lebanon
6–25 October 1973: October War
14 July 1958: Overthrow of the
Iraqi monarchy 17 September 1978: Egyptian–
Israeli Peace Treaty signed
22 February 1958: Founding of the
United Arab Republic 1 April 1979: Islamic Republic of
Iran proclaimed
28 September 1961: Dissolution of
the United Arab Republic 16 July 1979: Saddam Hussein
comes to power in Iraq
21–23 February 1966: Ba` ath Party
coup in Syria, leading to the split 6 October 1981: Sadat
between the Syrian and Iraqi assassinated by Islamic Jihad
branches of the Ba` ath Party 14 October 1981: Hosni Mubarak
appointed President of Egypt
Introduction
This chapter explores the influence of ideologies on the modern Middle East. Here,
the focus will be on the ideologies of nationalism, particularly Arab nationalism,
and political Islam. Certainly, many other ideological currents are present in the
Middle East, from liberalism to socialism and beyond. However, these two ideolog-
ical streams have been the dominant discourses in the region since independence,
and have shaped the way regimes have developed their policies and how the states
of the region have engaged with the global community. As such, this chapter will
explore the foundations of these ideologies and their impact on both opposition
movements and regimes. In addition, this chapter will outline how the potency of
ideologies has changed over time, particularly in terms of how the popularity of
Arab nationalism has declined in recent years, ostensibly replaced by political Islam.
However, this common narrative will be presented in terms of how ideologies have
been exploited for strategic legitimacy, often falling short of popular expectations.
Nationalism, Islamism and the Politics of Ideology 99
Ideology and Politics in the Middle East

The notion of ideology refers to a consistent set of ideas, beliefs and visions for
social life held by an individual or a group. These ideas, beliefs and visions reflect
needs or aspirations of the individual or group, and set priorities for how decisions
should be made and what decisions should be of main concern. In this regard,
ideologies have played a key role in political governance. A regime, party, social
movement or other force will coalesce around an ideology as a set of prescriptions
for how society should be governed. Here, ideologies often form all-encompassing
sociopolitical programmes that dictate what a government will pursue as a matter
of priority, what it sees as central to the greater social and political good. That is, a
political ideology sets aspirations or goals for how society should ideally work, as
well as the means or methods for achieving this.
Political ideology is a modern phenomenon. Born out of the French Revolution,
it was employed to understand how the new revolutionary regime articulated and
sought to implement its vision for society. For the revolutionaries, the government
should represent the interests of the national community (la patrie) rather than the
Bourbon monarchy. This touches on an important point about ideologies in that
they are often formed in times of crisis or rapid change. An ideology gives a new
direction for a person or group of people to understand why a crisis has occurred
(i.e. the failure of a previous way of doing things) and how to move beyond this (i.e.
a plan for a ‘correct’ way of doing things in the future).
For instance, economic development programmes implemented at this time,
often in the form of state ownership and ‘nationalisation’ of key industries, were
justified in terms of these notions of collective ownership. Whilst the Cold War’s
impact on the Middle East was not uniform, the links between the Soviet Union
as the global champion of communist ideology and regional allies was evident here.
Whilst this will be discussed in detail below, particularly in relation to the devel-
opment of so-called ‘radical’ Arab nationalist regimes, it is important to reiterate
that the Cold War ideological contest of capitalism versus communism was not
mirrored in the region. Whilst there were contests for influence often defined as
ideological battles, this was heavily overlaid with strategic interests.
Nationalism
Before defining the ideology of nationalism, it will be useful to outline a work-
ing understanding of the concept of the nation. Nations are communities bound
together by some combination of a common language, shared history, culture, eth-
nicity or descent. Whilst broad and fluid, this definition provides an important
starting point. Critically, this idea of a community bound by these forces is modern.
That is, these communities have been constructed, with historical narratives being
redefined, languages standardised and cultural practices homogenised to fit with
the idea of a single, cohesive, standardised community. In this regard, whilst humans
have always been part of communities and social systems, these are not the same
as particular national communities. What sets this form of community apart, and
highlights its contemporary nature, are the links to the ideology of nationalism.
Put simply, nationalism is an ideology which claims that supreme authority rests
with the national community as a whole. As a result, each community, or nation,
should have its own independent political system, or state. Hence the concept of
the nation-state.
From key events in Europe in the 17th century, this idea undermined the authority
of alternative centres of power from religious to imperial authority. Eventually, the
nationalist principle of the right to rule, or sovereignty, resting with the nation-state,
has come to define modern global politics. This has had significant implications.
One of which is the notion of territoriality. That is, as each nation is to rule itself,
and is separate from other nations, there needs to be clear and specific territorial
separation. This resulted in the establishment of highly detailed borders between
states. Within these borders, each state was the supreme authority over its people,
who would belong to the relevant national community.
One useful way of understanding this is the notion of an ‘imagined community’
offered by Benedict Anderson. For Anderson, a nation is a community that exists
in the imagination of its members as it is too large for all its members to meet face-
to-face (Anderson, 1991). Without this personal contact, a national community still
feels bound together through sharing common elements such as language, culture,
history and symbols. The boundaries of these communities were established par-
ticularly through the growth of a print media within a given territory that reiterated
the common symbols and themes which each member, regardless of their physical
position, could identify with.
In addition, the notion of ‘national interest’ emerged as the governing principle
for how politics was organised in these new entities. Whilst this point suggests that
nationalist ideologies tend towards democratic systems (i.e. rule by the people), this
has not always been so. Indeed, many authoritarian systems use nationalist rhetoric
as a means to justify their rule and mobilise support. The call of nationalism, in this
respect, has been particularly useful in consolidating popular opinion against per-
ceived ‘enemies’ to the nation. Inevitably, and often with great violence, nation-states
forcibly sought to undermine or eliminate both alternative claims to sovereignty and
challenges to the prescribed national identity. In states where ethnic identity was a
key part of the national identity, the status of minority groups, including in terms of
language and cultural rights, became a site of heated debate and contest.
Middle Eastern Nationalisms

The idea of the state arrived in the Middle East in controversial circumstances.
The region was not alone in this, with the European powers establishing pseudo-
state institutions across the globe during the period of colonisation. Often, these
new creations established borders where none had previously existed. Across
Africa, Asia, the Americas, as well as the Middle East, new states emerged into
independence with only tentative links to cultural, linguistic or ethnic realities on
the ground.
As a consequence, many of these new states lacked political legitimacy, with
national identities fragile at best. The Middle East was no exception in this regard.
However, there were a variety of tendencies at play. In Iran, for instance, the long
history of Persian imperialism allowed for the development of a relatively cohesive
sense of modern Iranian identity to emerge through the 20th century. However,
the relationship of Iran to its religious identity, particularly Shià Islam, remained
fraught. This framed the uprising that eventually saw the toppling of the Pahlavi
dynasty in 1979 and the establishment of the Islamic Republic.
In Israel, the ideology of Zionism was a conscious re-articulation of Jewish
identity to fit with this idea of nationalism. Zionism was an expression of Jewish
identity in nationalist terms, seeking to join the perceived cultural community with
that of a territory, namely the then British Mandate of Palestine. Apart from the
intense controversies surrounding the establishment of the state itself, there was
also an intense internal struggle within this community as to how the new Israeli
community, one drawn from all over the globe, would articulate its cultural, linguistic
and historic identity, a debate that continues to the present day.
The Armenian genocide controversy is a deeply divisive issue that still rages today. It is
accepted that between 300,000 and 1.5 million Armenians died between 1915 and 1916.
The deaths occurred at a time when the then Ottoman administration deported large
numbers of Armenians from the east of Anatolia to southern Anatolia and northern Syria.
The controversy centres on whether the deaths resulted from an orchestrated or sys-
tematic policy. This relates to the 1948 UN Convention on Genocide that defines genocide
as a systematic programme to ‘destroy, in whole or part, a national, ethnic, racial or
religious group’.
The Turkish government denies any systematic attempt, but the Armenian government,
the Armenian community and many others continue to allege that the Ottomans were
involved in a policy of genocide. The Young Turk movement, in control of the Ottoman
government from 1908, were precursors to the government of the Republic of Turkey.
Kars Armenia
Azerbaijan BAKU
Erzurum
YERE
VAN
Erzurum
Sivas rates
Euph
Turkey
Erzincan
Oezel
Caspian
Erhac Elazig Lake
Oeshlag
Kayseri Mus
Khvoy Sea
Van
Elazig
Malatya Malatya Van Tabrz Ardebd
Diyarbakir Batman
1 Kurdish-inhabited
Urmia
Kahramanmaras
2 Diyarbakir area Lake
Orumiyeh Urmia
Ganziantep Rasht
Adana 3 Sanliurfa Sirsent
Maraygah Zanjan
Tall Karyhur South Mahabad
Iskenderum Khanch
Al Hasakah
Aleppo Bashur
Mosul
Mediterranean
Irbil Bashiqah
As Sulaymaniyah Iran
West As Sulaymaniyah
Sea
KI
Senandaj
Karkuk
Hamah
Syria azDayr
Zawr
Euphrates Tur
Khurmatu Hamadan
Hims 4
Tripoli
Al Da’im Bakhtaran
Lebanon 5 Bakhtaran
BEIRUT
‘Aka´sha´t Iraq Shahabad
highway strip
Borujerd
DAMASCUS BAGHDAD Khorramabad

Al Taqaddum
Israel Area of block diagram
Karbala’ Dezful
Al Hillah
Irbid
AMMAN An Najal Al 'Amarah
Tigris
Jerusalem Ahvaz
Figure 4.1 Areas with a Kurdish majority population
In addition, a conscious programme of articulating and consolidating a new

Turkish identity with the decline of the Ottoman Empire led to the creation of
the Republic of Turkey. However, this was a tumultuous process, with signifi-
cant violence involving the new Turkish state as well as its considerable Kurdish
and Armenian communities, involving allegations of organised violence and
genocide.
Here, the story of Kurdish nationalism, along with that of other groups, has not
resulted in achieving statehood. Fighting the governments of Turkey, Iran and Iraq
as well as various Kurdish factions fighting each other, the large Kurdish commu-
nity has not been able to realise the establishment of a Kurdish state. However, the
2003 US-led invasion and occupation of Iraq has provided for the establishment of
Kurdish autonomy in the north of the country, a degree of freedom that operates as
a virtual state within a state.
Arab Nationalism at a Glance

In relation to Arab identity, language is arguably the central feature. However, if
we take Anderson’s notion of how an imagined community develops, the apparent
linguistic unity of the Arab people hides a great deal of diversity. For instance, in
Arabic Speaking Majorities
Figure 4.2 The Arabic-speaking community in the Middle East and North Africa
relation to the language itself, there are a large number of regional dialects that
differ significantly from one another as well as the use of colloquial forms of Arabic
and literary Arabic (often also referred to as fusha, or Modern Standard Arabic or
MSA) (Versteegh, 2001).
Since the spread of the Arab people and their language from the Arabian
Peninsula in the 7th century ce, the language has taken on a number of different
colloquial forms across the region. As a result, colloquial, dialect or spoken Arabic
differs from Morocco to Egypt, the Arabian Peninsula and the Levant. Traditionally,
there have been five main groups of Arabic dialects: Arabian (Saudi Arabia and the
Gulf ), Mesopotamian (Iraq), Levantine (Syria, Lebanon, Jordan, Israel/Palestine
and southern Turkey), Egyptian (Egypt) and Maghribi (North Africa). In addition,
patterns of external interference have left legacies in the use of European terms,
with strong evidence of this in countries such as Algeria and Lebanon as opposed
to Saudi Arabia, as well as the infusion of other languages, such as Berber/Amazigh,
Persian and Turkish with Arabic.
The Berber or Amazigh people are terms for the indigenous ethnic groups in North
Africa. The Berber/Amazigh communities and their languages have mixed with the Arab
community with the spread of the latter through the region since the 7th century ce.
The name ‘Berber’ comes from Roman references to ‘barbarian’, relating to the
Vandals and their invasions. Recently, the name ‘Amazigh’ (plural: Imazigen), or ‘free
men’ has been adopted as an alternative.
Alternatively, MSA developed through the 19th and 20th centuries to standardise
formal written Arabic. Currently, it is in use across the majority of the Arab world
in the production of newspapers and other formal writing. Thus, whilst language
forms the core of Arab identity, it exists in a dual sense, in both local/dialect form
and formal/standardised form. Turning back to Anderson, the development of print
media in the region occurred at the time of colonialism, when the boundaries of the
current states were established. As a result, identities built around the mechanics of
‘print capitalism’, notably newspapers, were increasingly written in MSA but were
referential to identities built around colonial and, later, state boundaries.
It is difficult to acquire reliable statistics on religious affiliation. Indeed, identification with

a particular religion does not capture other factors, such as levels of observance or the
relationship of an individual to a religious establishment. However, tentative figures on
religious affiliation show the Arab world today (roughly 350 million people) are 91% Muslim
(80% of the total identifying as Sunni Muslim and 11% of the total as Shi ` a Muslim), 6%
Christian (of many denominations) and 3% other religions (Jewish, Bahai` i and others).
There are also strong religious, cultural and historical elements underlying Arab
identity. This is somewhat more problematic, as the Arab community, whilst major-
ity Muslim, has a great variety of religious communities, both between religions
(Islam, Christianity, Judaism, etc.) and within religions (Sunni and Shià Islam,
Catholic and Orthodox Christianity, etc.). However, the links between Arab and
Islamic history make the two almost inseparable in discussions of Arab identity,
in particular, the history of Arab-Islamic empires and the articulation of Islam in
the Arabic language. These links are important to remember when discussing the
emergence of an Arab nationalist ideology in the late 19th and early 20th centuries.
As with almost all aspects under review here, this discussion remains a point of
historic debate today (Barakat, 1993). The following will focus on the broad ten-
sion between the notion of Arab political unity and the consolidation of states that
separated the community, from the Atlantic Ocean to the Gulf.
The Uniqueness of Arab Nationalism

The central tension in Arab nationalist discourse is the ideal of political unifica-
tion for the Arabs and the reality of Arab political life divided amongst 22 states.
In this regard, the doctrine of Arab nationalism is unique in that it challenges not
just the existence of one or two states, but an entire regional state system. The idea
of challenging state borders on the basis of ethnicity and nationalist claims is not
unique. In this regard, irredentist movements have challenged established state
borders across the globe, often through armed conflict.
This has most often come in the form of one state making territorial claims on
another, such as the conflict over the status of Northern Ireland (Ulster), Taiwan,
Kashmir, and many others. In addition, groups have also lobbied for the division
of existing states to create new entities, such as the various Kurdish movements
in relation to Iraq, Turkey, Iran and Syria, or members of the Pashtun population
advocating for an independent state to be carved out of Afghanistan and Pakistan.
However, the idea of Arab political unity is unique in two respects. First, the scale
of the vision of Arab unity is unprecedented, calling for unity of the people from
Morocco to Iraq and Syria to Yemen. A possible comparison is the creation of the
European Union. However, this was a move based on claims of political utility
rather than nationalism and ethnic unity (Choueiri, 2000).
The second aspect relates to the status of the doctrine in relation to existing Arab
regimes. Specifically, almost all Arab regimes give some measure of support to the
idea of Arab political unity. Whilst much of this does not move beyond the rhetorical
level, it is unique in that these regimes support an ideology that directly contradicts
the existence of the states over which they rule. And even at the rhetorical level, it is
an issue that has created a tension for the legitimacy of governments across the region.
The Arab League was founded in Cairo in March 1945 as the peak multilateral body for
Arab cooperation. It has 22 members (Algeria, Bahrain, the Comoros, Djibouti, Egypt, Iraq,
Jordan, Kuwait, Lebanon, Libya, Mauritania, Morocco, Oman, the Palestinian Authority,
Qatar, Saudi Arabia, Somalia, Sudan, Syria, Tunisia, the United Arab Emirates and Yemen).
It engages in a variety of activities, but is often criticised for being able to do very
little to address issues as it represents the interests of existing regimes rather than the
people of the region.
In order to explore this in more detail, it is important to first explore the origins of
the Arab nationalist doctrine. In particular, we shall outline here the early thinkers
and organisations that championed this ideology, before exploring efforts at realis-
ing Arab unity by challenging the emerging state system. What will become evident
is the centrality of Arab nationalist thought through the 20th century. Whilst its
influence has declined since the late 1960s, the resilience of Arab identity continues
to affect regional politics.
The Origins of Arab Nationalism

There were two streams of early nationalist sentiment amongst the Arab popula-
tion. The first was found in sociopolitical elites, particularly the Hashemites who
cooperated with the British against the Ottomans in World War I, and the second
in small groups of urban intellectuals in Damascus, Beirut, Baghdad and Cairo.

The role of the Hashemites, particularly Sherif Hussein, in the Arab Revolt during
World War I was discussed in Chapter 2, particularly the efforts at the establish-
ment of a unitary Arab state in the Levant. This may also be seen in the efforts of
Muhammad Àli in Egypt in the late 19th century.
The Hashemites, or Banu Hashim (the clan of Hashim), are a family tracing their
lineage back to the Prophet Muhammad (via the Prophet’s great grandfather and uncle
Abu Talib). From the 10th century ce, the Hashemites were given custodianship of the
Hijaz and, by extension, the Holy Cities of Mecca and Medina.
After their involvement in the Arab Revolt during World War I, members of the
Hashemite family ruled in various parts of the Arab world (the Kingdom of the Hijaz,
1917–24; the Kingdom of Iraq, 1921–58 and the Kingdom of Jordan, 1946 to the present).
What is critical to reiterate here is the sense of betrayal between the Arab leadership
and Western powers that emerged out of the Arab Revolt and subsequent division
of the region under the League of Nations Mandates. This became a feature of sub-
sequent nationalist discourse in the Arab world, with suspicion of external parties
co-existing with looking to external parties for support. However, the articulation of
Arab nationalism that had the most prominent impact throughout the 20th century
originated amongst urban intellectuals, initially concerned primarily with a revival
of the Arabic language (and involved in the development of MSA). Key figures in
this early movement included Nasif al-Yaziji and Butrus al-Bustani, both Christian
Arabs from ‘present-day’ Lebanon writing in the mid- to late 19th century.
Here, the relationship between Arab nationalism and religion, particularly Islam,
was already evident as many early nationalists were Arab Christians focused on
the linguistic component of Arab identity over that of Islam. Whilst nationalist
sentiment spread amongst the Muslim community, the role of religion was often
controversial. Despite this, a secular, or marginally religious version of Arab nation-
alist identity became the dominant theme throughout the 20th century.
The nationalist movement of the urban intellectuals failed to gain popular sup-
port up to World War I, when many of the key thinkers gave support to the Arab
Revolt. However, the failure of this movement to gain its goals of an independent
Arab state, and the subsequent allocation of new states to Hashemite monarchs, saw
its protagonists become increasingly politicised, and subsequently form new parties
in the Levant and Egypt, often with anti-monarchical and leftist ideological lean-
ings. Here, notions of Arab unity and nationalism oscillated between a variety of
emphases. For instance, some writers focused on more local or parochial loyalties
(wataniyya) whilst others emphasised the notion of broader Arab unity (qawmiyya)
beyond local allegiances. This latter sentiment became dominant in ideological terms;
however, in practice, it was local parochialisms that increasingly asserted themselves.

The history of the Baàth Party is a clear example of this (Barakat, 1993: 4).
The Baàth Party

The Baàth Party was founded in Syria in 1947 by Michel Aflaq and Salah al-Din
al-Bitar. Meaning renaissance or resurrection, the Baàth was the first major Arab
nationalist party. The initial party platform emphasised the secular nature of Arab
identity, with Aflaq from the Greek Orthodox community and al-Bitar from the
Sunni community. In addition, the party also focused on elements of leftist, par-
ticularly socialist, economic policies. However, it consciously distanced itself from
direct identification with Marxism, as the party was in direct competition with the
Syrian Communist Party (SCP) at the time.
It was the split from the SCP in the mid-1940s that led directly to the forma-
tion of the Baàth. Specifically, the SCP supported French policies in the region,
in conjunction with the French communists who were part of the government in
Paris at the time. This helped sharpen the focus of the party to articulate the ide-
als of Arab independence and unity. At the same time, another French-educated
middle-class Syrian, Zaki al-Arsuzi from the Alawi community, established the
Arab Baàth with a similar doctrine. By the mid-1940s, Aflaq and al-Bitar’s move-
ment had started to eclipse that of al-Arsuzi, leading to a merger in 1947 and the
formation of the Arab Baàth Party. Al-Arsuzi was marginalised in these early years
of the party, with Aflaq elected leader of the group and al-Bitar Secretary General
(Devlin, 1976).
The party had two main platforms, that of Arab political union and socialism.
Underlying this was a view that both the Ottomans and later the Europeans had
directly undermined a ‘natural’ Arab unity. The best tool in pursuit of reclaiming
this, for the Baàthists, was the adoption of a socialist doctrine. The redistribution
of wealth from the implementation of socialist policies would undermine tradi-
tional power structures that had facilitated this external dominance and give the
Arabs a greater ability to resist further interference.
The Alawi are a Muslim community concentrated in the Latakia region of northwest-
ern Syria as well as southern Turkey and northern Lebanon and part of the Lebanese
diaspora. The community considers itself part of the Shi ` a branch of Islam; however,
despite many of the core tenets of the faith remaining secret, it is believed that there
are a number of elements incorporated from Christianity.
Historically marginalised in Syria, where they constitute between 10% and 15% of
the population, the Alawi were prominent in the Syrian armed forces. From there, they
became increasingly prevalent in Syrian politics. This culminated with the rise of Hafiz
al-Assad, an Alawi, to the presidency in 1971 under the banner of the Ba` ath Party.
The party grew slowly through the late 1940s and early 1950s, struggling to build
a base within the large peasantry and working class in Syria. This was despite an
official merger with the Arab Socialist Party in 1953 that saw a name change to the
Arab Socialist Baàth Party. However, the rise to power in Egypt of Arab nation-
alist Nasser in 1954 and the success of the 1956 Suez Crisis saw the party’s ranks
swell. Indeed, the party formed a formal alliance with the new Egyptian regime,
helping it become an increasingly powerful force in post-independence Syrian pol-
itics and seeing it win a number of seats during the short-lived reintroduction of
parliamentary democracy in 1954.
Syrian and Iraqi Baàth Party Split

The tension between a regional identity and formal political divisions continued
to undermine the aspirations of Arab nationalism. This was evident in the collapse
of the United Arab Republic (UAR) as well as in the continuing tensions between
the broader Arab community. Indeed, as the 20th century progressed, the strategic
interests of each state became more entrenched, and the hopes of Arab union more
distant. Even ideological similarity could not prevent this from happening. This
was most evident in the split between the Syrian and Iraqi Baàth parties, an issue
that is critical to understanding events up to the 2003 US-led invasion and occu-
pation of Iraq that overthrew the Baàth regime of Saddam Hussein in Baghdad.
The Iraqi branch of the Baàth was founded in the early 1950s, and had limited
support up to the coup in July 1958. The reluctance of the then Iraqi President,
Abd al-Karim Qasim to join the UAR saw the party, and its then leader Saddam
Hussein, attempt to assassinate the President. Whilst this was unsuccessful, the still
nascent Iraqi Baàth finally achieved power in 1963 when Qasim was overthrown
by a group that included prominent Baàthist Ahmed Hassan al-Bakr. The US
actively supported the coup as they saw the Iraqi communists as too close to Qasim,
effectively opening the way for Baàth Party rule in Iraq, an irony of history that
would fully emerge in the 1990s (Devlin, 1976).
However, similar tensions would emerge as occurred in the UAR. Throughout
the 1960s, both the Syrian and Iraqi Baàth parties became embroiled in a series
of factional disputes. In 1966, a faction of the Syrian Baàth led by Salah Jadid and
Hafiz al-Assad took power, leading to both Aflaq and al-Bitar being ostracised
from the Syrian party in 1966. This led to a permanent split between the Syrian and
Iraqi branches of the party, both in power. The enmity between the two parties was
intense, with Syria actively supporting Iran during its war with Iraq in the 1980s
and negotiating a bargain with the US in which Syria would support their military
action against the Iraqi invasion of Kuwait in exchange for tacit US support for the
Syrian occupation of Lebanon with the end of the civil war in 1990.
Nasserism and the United Arab Republic

With the Baàth espousing Arab unity on the basis of dismantling the post-
independence states and implementing socialist policies of state-led economic
development, Nasser moved to put this into practice. However, these first moves
to realise the goal of Arab political unity would quickly run into problems, par-
ticularly over who should rule and how much control the new Arab leadership
should have. The Egyptian President’s vision has been labelled ‘Nasserism’, a set
of ideas based around the ideas of Arab political unity, socialism and confronting
imperialism. Whilst not so much a coherent ideology, Nasserism was considered by
some as an ‘attitude [that] transferred, if only partially, to the Arab world itself, the
center of decisions concerning the future of that world’ (Khalidi cited in Podeh and
Winckler, 2004: 2). That is, the ramifications of the Suez Crisis and the rollback of
colonial rule alongside the emergence of Nasser calling for unity resonated across
the region, and challenged the political status quo. For Nasser, this should include
all means of challenge, including the use of armed force.
The appeal of Nasser’s call for unity, alongside the growing threat of a commu-
nist coup, led the Syrian government of Shukri al-Quwatli, backed by the Baàth
Party, to open negotiations with Egypt for a formal political union. This is impor-
tant to note, as this apparent first step towards the unification of the Arab world
emerged as a result of a political manoeuvre on the part of the Syrian government
to avoid collapse as much as it was an effort to pursue the goal of eventual region-
wide unification; that said, there were high levels of popular support for the idea of
unification.
On 22 February 1958, al-Quwatli and Nasser signed an agreement for formal
unification between Syria and Egypt, creating the United Arab Republic (UAR)
with Nasser as President and Cairo as the capital. Nasser immediately banned all
parties, a move that was aimed at undermining the Syrian communists, but also saw
the official dissolution of the Baàth Party. Whilst the Baàth hoped it would be
able to become the dominant organisation in Syria, Nasser quickly imposed a new
constitution that gave more prominent positions to Egyptians.
Whilst the idea of the UAR resonated in Egypt, it quickly bred resentment in
Syria. In particular, the UAR was increasingly perceived as a vehicle for extend-
ing Nasser’s power to Syria rather than an equal relationship. This led the Baàth
to resign from the UAR government on 24 December 1959. In addition, other
regional governments saw it as a threat to their interests. For its part, Saudi Arabia
was worried about the growing power of Nasser and his calls for the overthrow of
monarchies, along with his claims that their pro-Western allegiances represented
the continuation of imperial rule. Also, opposition to the Jordanian monarchy
found refuge in Syria, agitating for the overthrow of King Hussein.
This instability spread to Iraq, with a military coup overthrowing the Hashemite
King Faisal II on 14 July 1958. This greatly concerned the US, with Iraq being a key
ally and founding member of the pro-Western Baghdad Pact. In Lebanon, Sunni
and Druze advocates of Nasser’s vision in Lebanon challenged the government of
Camille Chamoun. This led to the outbreak of civil war in 1958 (Salibi, 1990).
However, the internal tensions became too great for the union to bear. Whilst
many within the new Iraqi government sought to join the UAR, this was resisted
by the new Iraq President Abd al-Karim Qasim, undermining the momentum for
unification. In this regard, the collapse of the UAR on 28 September 1961 has con-
ventionally been put down to the inability of Nasser to share sufficient authority with
his cohorts in Damascus. Nasser increasingly centralised power in Cairo through
1960 and 1961, marginalising the Baàth and appointing more reliable allies. This
culminated in a military coup and a declaration of Syrian withdrawal from the union.
The 1967 War and its Impacts on Arab Nationalism

The 1956 Suez Crisis is often pinpointed as symbolising both the end of colonial
rule and the high water mark of power for Arab nationalist doctrine and influ-
ence. Here, the 1967 War is viewed as the event that saw the ultimate decline of
LEBANON
SY R I A
Haifa
Nazareth
Mediterranean
Tel Aviv WEST Amman

BA N K
Jerusalem
Bethlehem
Hebron Dead
GA Z A ST R I P sea
ISRAEL
J O R D A N
EGYPT
Elat SAUDI
Gulf
ARABIA
of Aoaba
Figure 4.3 Israel before the 1967 War, with the West Bank under Jordanian control
and the Gaza Strip under Egyption control
Arab nationalism’s influence. As such, whilst the 1967 War is often looked at in
isolation, it is presented here within the context of discussions on nationalism
and ideological influence as it reshaped political dynamics across the region, as
well as fundamentally altering the strategic balance between Israel and its Arab
adversaries.
The origins of the 1967 War itself are subject to intense debate. This centres
around whether the war was an act of Israeli aggression against Egypt, Jordan or
Syria, or, as the Israeli government claims,
an act of ‘pre-emptive defence’. Whilst there Kiryat
Shemona
had not been a major conflict between Israel Nahariya
and the Arab states since 1956, tensions were Safed
high and Nasser in particular regarded Israel Haifa

Tiberias
Lake
Tiberas
Sea
as a key factor hindering the development
ean
of Arab nationalism. In addition, Israel was
n
Afula
iterra
seen as a representative of external influence
Med
and efforts to control the region. In other Netanya
words, the confrontation with Israel was, for
Jordan River
Nasser, a central part of the broader effort Tel Aviv-Yafo
towards the realisation of the goals of Arab

nationalism. Jerusalem
There were many basic strategic cal- Ashkelon
Dead Sea
Kiryat
culations at play here too, such as Israel’s Gat
National Water Carrier (NWC) programme,

which was highly controversial in the Arab
Be’er Sheva
world. This came to a head in the early 1960s
when Israel completed this project, diverting
Yeroham
water from the River Jordan to irrigate agri-
cultural projects and new settlements in the Sde Boker
arid south of the country. This was another NEGEV
in a sequence of events that highlighted the

apparent inability of the Arab states to pre-
vent Israel from pursuing its aims at their Legend
expense (Zeitoun, 2011).

National Water Carrier
Water Pipeline for Domestic
Israel had begun the programme in 1953,

Use and Irrigation
Recycled Water Pipeline,
Ef fluent Water for Irrigation
diverting the river from the demilitarised Water Pipeline Originating

from Paran Wells
zone on the border with Syria. This was a Water Reservoir

City/Town/Settlement
major issue for all parties at the time, lead- Pumping Station
Desalination Plant Ef fluent
0 10 30 km
ing to international mediation through the Eilat
Pumping Station
10 20 miles
UN. Israel suspended diversion operations
throughout the mid-1950s. The Arab states, Figure 4.4 Israel’s National Water
particularly Egypt, argued that the water Carrier programme
UNRWA camp 10 Number of camps per country
UNRWA Camps in Jordan
Irbid
1 Irbid
12 SYRIA
LEBANON 2 Husn
Beirut
12 Souf 3
Damascus
Mediterranean
Sea
4 Jerash
IRAQ JORDAN
OPT* Zarqa 5 6 Baqaa
WEST-BANK 7 Marka
Amman
11 9 Talbieh
10
Amman 8
GAZA 8 SAUDI New Camp
ARABIA
ISRAEL JORDAN 10 Jabal
*OPT Occupied al-Hussein
EGYPT
100 km Palestinian 50 km
Territories
Figure 4.5 UNRWA-administered refugee camps in the Middle East
plan was tied to the broader issue of Palestinian rights, particularly the prospect
for the return of Palestinian refugees and Israeli strategic strength, as the water
plan would enable Israel to absorb large numbers of new refugees from Europe
and Russia, further strengthening Israel demographically and militarily. By 1964,
the Arab states had agreed in principle to their own water diversion programme to
counter Israel’s plan.
Inter-Arab Tensions and Militarisation

As mentioned above, whilst pan-Arab nationalist ideology was dominant at this
time, the leaders of the various Arab states were highly competitive in using this
for their own specific interests, particularly in terms of using their claims to be
a champion of the nationalist cause for domestic political consumption. In this
regard, throughout the 1960s, the rhetoric of confronting Israel became increas-
ingly radicalised, with each leader seeking to outdo the others in being at the
forefront of this struggle (Shemesh, 2004: 5). This led to a great deal of confronta-
tional rhetoric and a severe deterioration in already strained relations between the
Arab states and Israel.
The two principal Arab players here were Jordan and Egypt, who took different
paths. Jordan had formally annexed the West Bank in 1950, granting citizenship to
all Palestinians in its territory with the exception of refugees from the Gaza Strip.
Gaza was administered by Egypt under military authority, with the Egyptians seek-
ing to organise Palestinian political institutions in the country as an alternative
means of both challenging Israel and controlling the policy of the Arab states.
In terms of nationalist doctrine, this was manifested in two trends: first, a group
headed by Nasser that focused on the creation of a formal, pan-Arab state; and
second, a group headed by the Syrian Baàthists that argued for a federal union
which would retain the state structures. Here, relations between Egypt and Syria
deteriorated markedly through the mid-1960s, using Israel, and particularly the
water diversion issue, as the focus of conflict. That is, each claimed the other was
inept at dealing with Israel’s water plan, ergo, inept at dealing with Israel’s growing
strength in general.
The United Arab Command was established in 1964 as an effort to coordinate Arab
military activities through the Arab League. Whilst it represented a level of cooperation
between the Arab states, it did not prove effective in response to Israeli military activity
in Jordan in 1964 or in response to the 1967 War.
The clearest example of internecine Arab conflict was the tension between
Nasser and Jordan’s King Hussein. Egypt funded a number of groups, particularly
Palestinian groups, that sought to topple the monarchy whilst also questioning the
legitimacy of the Jordanian monarchy as well as the Jordanian state, arguing it was
another colonial creation, and a particularly insidious one, which divided the heart
of the Arab world as well as illegally annexing the West Bank of the River Jordan.
Thus, the Arab–Israeli conflict, throughout the 1960s, became increasingly entan-
gled in the ideas of Arab nationalism itself. For the Jordanian government, this
issue therefore become inextricably linked to its own survival. All this fed into the
growing militarisation of all states in the Levant, particularly Israel, Egypt, Syria
and Jordan, as well as the Palestinians, through the increasing military activity of
the PLO. This latter fact was important as it started to transform the conflict to
one not just between existing Arab states and Israel but one between an increasingly
autonomous and organised Palestinian resistance.
In this way, throughout the 1960s, war became seemingly inevitable for Israel,
Egypt and Syria. In terms of the Arab states, they were in sharp disagreement as to
strategy and goals, as well as being unsure of the military capacity of Israel. With
regard to Israel, it was unsure as to the behaviour of the Arab states, caught between
the rhetoric of Cairo and Damascus calling for the destruction of Israel whilst also
noting the divisions between the states. Here, the growing size of the Arab armies,
particularly that of Egypt, was of concern, but this was mitigated by the lack of
unity between the Arab governments.
There was some apparent cooperation between the Arab states, with the
formation of the United Arab Command (UAC) in 1964, the Egyptian–Syrian
mutual defence agreement in 1966, and the Egyptian–Jordanian mutual defence
Beirut agreement in May 1967. In

addition, the Egyptians and
N ON
Damascus
BA
GREATER ISRAEL others continued to supply the
LE
SYRIA
AFTER JUNE 10, 1967
al-Quneitra
Palestinians with aid whilst
Israeli territory 1949-June 10, 1967
Israeli conquests June 5−11, 1967 Haifa L. GAINEE
GOLAN
HEIGHTS
Israel and the PLO engaged in
New Israeli settlements 0
in the Sinai Peninsula
MILES 50
Nazareth
open conflict, including Israeli
incursions into Jordan after
Jordan River
Netania Jenin
Tulkarem PLO attacks in Israel.
MEDITERRANEAN SEA Nablus
Tel Aviv-Jaf fa WEST
BANK Amman
Ashdod
Ashkelon
Jerusalem
Jericho
Bethlehem
The ‘Six-Day’ War
Nachal Nezarim Gaza
Nachal Samiri
In the weeks leading up to
Hebron
DEAD SEA
Port Said
Nachal Morag
Nachal D’kalim
Kfar Darom the war, an estimated 100,000
Beersheba
Egyptian troops were massed
Sador (Rafa) Minyam
al-Arish
Yamit
in the Sinai, followed by a
Nachal yam Nachal Sinai
JORDAN
Abu Agheila NEGEV
Suez Canal
Ismailia
DESERT closing of the Straits of Tiran
Bir Gafgafa (Refidim) on 22 May and an expul-
= GIDI PASS sion of the United Nations
Suez = MITLA PASS al-Quntilla
peacekeeping force in place
SINAI PENINSULA since the 1956 Suez Crisis.
Eilat Aqaba
Alongside the heated rhetoric
E G Y P T of the Egyptian regime, this
Moshav N’viot was portrayed as a clear sign of
QABA
Abu Rudeis
GU
Egypt’s intent to invade Israel.

LF
OF A
OF
MT. SINAI∆ However, others have argued

SU
GULF
Di-ttZahav
SAUDI ARABIA that Egyptian actions were an
EZ
al-Tur
effort at ‘brinkmanship’ against
TIRAN I.
STRAIT OF TIRAN Israel, as well as strengthening
Sharm es.Sheikh (Ophira)
their hand vis-à-vis the other
RED SEA
Arab states. Here, Israeli his-
torian Benny Morris (2001:
Figure 4.6 Lands occupied by Israel after the 301) points to fake Soviet
1967 War intelligence passed to Egypt
that Israeli troops were gath-
ering on the Syrian border. In addition, Moshe Shemesh argues that the
Egyptian troops were deployed in a defensive formation, back from the bor-
der, whilst the top Egyptian generals were left to continue the actions in the
Yemeni Civil War. Shemesh goes on to point out that Israel was involved in
a series of training exercises focused on rapid offensive manoeuvres as well as
gathering intelligence on Egyptian, Syrian and Jordanian troop placements.
Indeed, Israeli intelligence had penetrated the upper levels of the Egyptian
military. This was critical as the Israeli offensive was built around exploiting
specific times when there was minimal security at Arab air bases. Israel had over
a quarter of a million troops, but this number was inflated by a large number of
reservists (Shemesh, 2004: 2–5).
Putting aside the contested interpretation of the lead-up to the conflict, the war
itself broke out on 5 June when Israel launched a strike on Egyptian airfields. In
addition to the destruction of these air fields and air defences, nearly three-quarters
of the entire Egyptian air force was destroyed without leaving the ground, giving
Israel undisputed air control for the rest of the war. By 8 June, the Israelis had taken
control of the entire Sinai Peninsula as well as the Gaza Strip, suffering minimal
casualties whilst routing the Egyptian forces.
The Arab–Israeli war is commonly known as the ‘Six-Day War’ due to the length of the
conflict, from 5 to 10 June.
♦♦ 5 June: Israel launched air strikes against Egyptian, Jordanian and Syrian targets,
destroying their air forces.
♦♦ 6 June: Israel takes the Gaza Strip, the eastern Sinai and territory in the West Bank,
with Egyptian and Jordanian retreats.
♦♦ 7 June: Israeli forces move through the Sinai and secure Jerusalem and the majority
of the West Bank, Jordan accepts a ceasefire, and there is fighting on the Syrian
border.
♦♦ 8 June: Egypt accepts a ceasefire and the rest of the West Bank is taken.
♦♦ 9 June: Israel moves into the Golan Heights.
♦♦ 10 June: Israel takes the Golan Heights and Syria accepts a ceasefire.
News of the 5 June attack on Sinai saw fighting break out between Israel and the
Jordanians around Jerusalem. The Israeli air force conducted operations across
Jordan as well as in western Iraq that knocked out air defences and destroyed air-
craft, extending their air superiority. By 7 June, after heavy fighting around the
centre of Jerusalem, Israel had taken the old city and pushed further into the West
Bank. Soon after, Jordanian troops withdrew to the other side of the Jordan River,
allowing the Israelis to take the territory with minimal resistance.
In a similar dynamic to Jordan, Syria entered the war after the Israeli offensive
of 5 June. Initial Syrian air strikes were repelled with the Israeli air force counter-
attacking and destroying the bulk of the Syrian air force. Syrian ground attacks
were focused on the facilities associated with the Israeli National Water Carrier
programme; however, these were quickly repelled. The Syrians then accepted a
ceasefire early on 9 June; however, Israel pushed ahead with an offensive on the
strategically important Golan Heights, taking it by the next day.
Legacies of the Six-Day War

The immediate impacts of the war are evident. Israel more than tripled its size,
secured key strategic areas and destroyed the military capacity of its adversaries.
There has been an emerging view that Israel’s victory may have been pyrrhic. In
particular, the territory taken by Israel contained large numbers of Palestinian ref-
ugees, dramatically altering the demographics of the country. It also solidified the
permanent state of conflict for Israel, greatly affecting the political culture of the
country through to the 21st century.
In addition, the war had two important symbolic impacts. First, it reiterated the
idea that Israel was militarily unbeatable and, second, it shattered the ideologi-
cal hegemony of Arab nationalism and its claims of achieving regional unity. The
collapse of the ideological potency of Arab nationalism in the wake of the Six-
Day War was not unexpected. As detailed above, the divisions between the Arab
states and the failure of projects to achieve political unity all point to the difficulties
faced by nationalist doctrine. The war merely exposed the inherent dysfunction
of the nationalist vision. The sheer scale of the loss, and the fact that it impacted
most on the two champion states of nationalism, Egypt and Syria, undermined its
mass appeal. This coincided with the development of new forms of Islamic political
doctrine, particularly in the 1960s, that challenged not only the established interna-
tional order, alongside Arab nationalism, but also regional regimes, many of whom
subscribed to the nationalist doctrine.
Political Islam
Here, we shall expand on the relationship between Islam and politics through a
brief outline of the tenets of Islam. This is not intended as an exhaustive overview
of Islam itself, but is designed to sketch out those elements of the faith that are its
defining features and the impacts of these on how ideologies seeking to explicitly
combine Islam and politics have developed in recent years.
The Basic Tenets of Islam

Perhaps the key feature of Islam is its emphasis on the ‘oneness’ (tawhīd ) of God
(allah). The indivisibility of God’s unity and divinity supersedes all other aspects
of the religion. For instance, Islam regards the notion of a Holy Trinity present in
Christianity, particularly the claims to divinity on the part of Jesus Christ, as a dilu-
tion of God’s absolute divinity. As such, at its core Islam is not a complicated religion
in terms of tenets or models of adherence and practice. These revolve around five
‘articles of faith’ for belief and five ‘pillars’ of Islamic practice. The articles of faith, as
outlined in the Muslim Holy Book the Quràn, focus on a belief in God, a belief in
the angels of God, a belief in the Prophets of God (from Adam to Muhammad, the
last prophet), a belief in the divinely revealed Holy Books (the Torah, the Bible, and
the Quràn), and a belief in a Day of Judgement. As such, Islam positions itself as a
continuation of the other two regional monotheistic faiths from the Middle East,
Judaism and Christianity.
In terms of custom or ritual, there are five pillars (arkan ad-din) or duties ( far-
aidh) of Islamic practice. The first of these relates to faith (imān) and belief in
the oneness (tawhīd) of God, and is demonstrated through a profession of faith
(shahadah). This profession is a statement declaring ‘I bear witness that there is no
God but Allah, and Muhammad is His messenger’ (ash hadu an la ilaha illa`llah,
Muhammad ar-rasul Allah). In addition, Muslims are required to perform prayer
(salah) rituals five times daily, give to charity (zakat) through a minimum donation
of 2.5% of one’s net worth, observe fasting (sawm) during the month of Ramadan
on the Islamic calendar (hajj), and all able-bodied Muslims who can afford it should
make a pilgramage to Mecca at least once in their lifetime (Armstrong, 2002).
Quràn and Hadith

For these core tenets, Islam draws from its central holy text, the Quràn, whilst
others are drawn from the stories and accounts of the Prophet’s life, the hadith. As
outlined in Chapter 1, Muslims believe the text of the Quràn itself to have been
revealed to the Prophet Muhammad between 610 and 632 ce. As it was revealed
directly, it is believed to contain the word of God. As with the other holy texts in
Judaism and Christianity, it forms the core of spiritual guidance for Muslims.
There have been many critiques of particular hadith. The central component of these
criticisms revolves around the authenticity of the particular saying or action as well as
the way it has been applied in a legal context.
In particular, and in a criticism that is reminiscent of similar criticisms in relation to
the formalisation of religious laws in Judaism and Christianity, there are charges that
many hadith were developed to further particular political and social aims rather than
being reflective of the actual narrative of the Prophet’s deeds and sayings.
There are also differences between Sunni and Shi ` a on the number of hadith. For the
Sunni, only sayings and deeds attributable to the Prophet Muhammad are valid hadith.
For the Shi ` a, the narrations of Muhammad, his daughter Fatima and the 12 Imams are
all valid hadith.
As hadith are based on selected narratives and interpretations of the Prophet’s

actions, they are not without contest. In particular, in recent years, the interpreta-
tion of particular hadith has been used to justify violence by militant and terrorist
groups. In addition, certain hadith are used to justify blocking the participation
of women in positions of political leadership. Hadith are important supplements
providing guidance for Muslims, particularly Muslim scholars, in areas that are
not covered explicitly in the Quràn. In this regard, the hadith provide details of the
Prophet’s Muhammad’s life (sunnah) that were formally documented in the 8th and
9th centuries ce. Hadith therefore do not carry the same importance as the text of
the Quràn, but do provide important elements informing Islamic law, or shariàh
(Rahman, 1979).
Shariàh
Shariàh is the legal code of Islam. The process of establishing shariàtic principles
varies, but generally revolves around the interpretation of principles in the Quràn,
the hadith and the sunnah by Islamic judges (qadi), religious leaders (imam) and
religious scholars (ùlama) that would reflect the greatest level of consensus (ìjma)
amongst the Muslim community. As is often highlighted, in the modern context,
the application of the shariàh as a state’s legal code is often the goal of Islamist
movements and organisations. This is often true; however, there are also many
instances of movements looking to combine elements of the shariàh with civil
or secular law codes. Despite this, the application of the shariàh in both Muslim
majority states and for Muslim minorities in other states remains a highly contro-
versial issue (Rahman, 1979).
Sunni and Shià Islam

The major division within the Muslim community is between the Sunni and
Shià communities. This division arose over the contest of who should succeed the
Prophet Muhammad after his death in 632 ce. Simply put, the Sunni emerged from
those who favoured popular selection of Muhammad’s successor, whilst the Shià
(the ‘partisans of Àli’, shiàtu Àli) favoured authority passing to Àli, the Prophet’s
son-in-law. Thus Shià have historically been marginalised, with the majority of
Muslims as well as the majority of Islamic empires being Sunni. Alongside numer-
ical differences, there are important doctrinal differences. For instance, whilst the
Sunni do not attribute any divine character to the Prophet, the Shià believe that
the Prophet, his predecessors and successors, possessed a ‘divine light’ (nur-e-elahi)
that enabled them to receive God’s revelation. This is highly controversial for some,
as it potentially dilutes the absolute oneness (tawhīd ) of God.
In line with this, many Shià place special emphasis on the line of rulers (imam)
that succeeded Muhammad and Àli. The divine light that inspired Muhammad
and the other Prophets gave his successors the right to rule the Muslim community
(ummah). Here, there is contestation over the exact line of succession. However, the
majority group are the ‘Twelvers’ (ithna ashari) who believe that the line of succes-
sion continued to Muhammad al-Mahdi, who received ‘occultation’ by God (simply,
was hidden by God), and will return with Jesus Christ (Isa in Islamic tradition) on
the Day of Judgement.
Legal Schools, the Ùlama and Religious Authority

The major division within Islam, as already discussed, is between the Sunni and
Shià communities. However, issues relating to law and the interpretation of
Islamic doctrine give rise to further divisions. Amongst the Sunni, there are four
major schools (madhab) of Islamic jurisprudence (fiqh): the Hanafi, Maliki, Shafiì
and Hanbali.
The Hanafi are the largest of the four groups, and employed a liberal/rationalist
interpretation of Islamic law dominant in both the Àbbasid and Ottoman Empires
and which remains dominant in Egypt and the Levant, Turkey and Central Asia.
The second largest group, the Maliki, are prevalent in North Africa, with smaller
numbers in the Middle East. The Maliki school is notable for the greater emphasis
it places on the role of the hadith as a source for Islamic law than the other madhab.
The Shafiì school, prominent in East Africa and Southeast Asia, is a highly rigor-
ous approach to the sources of Islamic law, focused on the process of interpretation,
or ijtihad, to contextualise Islamic sources. Finally, the Hanbali school, prominent
in the Arabian Peninsula, is focused on a conservative interpretation of Islamic doc-
trine that centres on a literalist interpretation of Islamic sources (Armstrong, 2002).
There is also diversity in terms of approaches to law and legal authority. The
power to interpret and arbitrate shariàh rests with Islamic scholars (ùlama).
Ùlama is a broad term referring to formally trained scholars who focus on all
aspects of Islamic law and jurisprudence. This highlights the highly diverse
nature of religious authority in Islam, with no strict hierarchy amongst ùlama.
As a result, the sheer scope of those claiming the authority of being an Islamic
scholar often leads to a great diversity of opinions, and a great deal of contradiction
and misunderstanding.
Shià Islam does have a more formalised authority structure. Perhaps the most
prominent example of this is the Ayatollah. The Ayatollah is part of a system of
hierarchy amongst religious scholars in Shià Islam based on levels of learning
achieved and position within a Shià religious school (hawza, as opposed to the
Sunni madrassah school system). The Islamic Republic of Iran has formalised this
into their system of governance, the ‘Rule of the Jurist’ (vilayet-e-faqih). However, it
is the diversity of opinion in Islamic doctrine that is its most defining feature. Here,
there has been a constant effort on the part of political authorities to either contain
or control the appeal and influence of Islam. The lack of a formal religious hierarchy
has both facilitated the ability of states to do this as well as promoted a consistent
pattern of dissenting voices. From the mid- to late 20th century, a definitively mod-
ern form of Islamic political doctrine has emerged to challenge established political
authority as well as other ideologies, such as Arab nationalism.
The Origins of Modern Political Islam

The notion of an Islamic political ideology is somewhat tautological, given the
numerous references in Islamic doctrine to the notion of political authority.
However, if we go back to our understanding of ideology outlined above, we can
identify a set of ideologies around Islam and the modern political environment. In
particular, from the late 19th century, there emerged a new set of ideas that sought
to reconcile Islamic doctrine with the emerging reality of European (and, later, US)
global domination, the nation-state system and other factors, such as democracy.
Islam is a term that refers to the religion and its practice whilst Muslim refers to an
individual practitioner or community practising that religion.
An important distinction is between an ‘Islamic state’ and a ‘Muslim state’. An Islamic
state is one that consciously seeks to define its legal and broader political system as
defined by Islamic doctrine, particularly the shari ` ah. Examples of this include Iran and
Saudi Arabia.
A Muslim state is one that, conventionally, has a majority Muslim population, but
has a civil law code or a non-religious political system. This is the far more common
example, including states as diverse as Egypt, Turkey, Uzbekistan and Indonesia.
The emergence of this ‘new’ Islamic thought shall be outlined here. Particular atten-
tion is paid to the foundations of this thought from the late 19th century and how it
changed through the 20th and early 21st centuries. Most recent attention has been
given to militant or terrorist movements who have sought to justify their actions in
the language of Islam. However, these movements account only for a small part of
the broader ‘Islamist’ movement. Instead, the focus here will be on the mass political
movements who consciously and explicitly identify themselves as ‘Islamic’ and who
have participated in regional political issues and systems on this basis.
Contemporary Islamist doctrine formed largely in response to the imposition of
colonial authority. The colonial period presented not just a political challenge in the
form of European strategic domination, but also a cultural challenge, as captured by

Said’s notion of ‘Orientalism’. It was the combination of these factors that shaped
the response from a new generation of Islamic scholars. In this regard, the articula-
tion of contemporary Islamist political discourse was as much about the ‘external’
challenge as it was about the ‘internal’ state of Islamic thought. Simply put, ques-
tions were asked as to how the Muslim world went from the dominant political and
cultural force that it was during the Middle Ages to one that could be so thoroughly
dominated by outside forces in the modern era.
Colonialism and the Reform of Islamic Discourse

It was in the late Ottoman period that key debates that still define the modern
Islamist political discourse emerged. Here, it is important to note that these dis-
cussions, whilst often separate from those of the nationalist debate that emerged
at the same time, also covered many of the same topics and involved some of the
same thinkers. That is, nationalism and Islamism in the Middle East are not mutu-
ally exclusive despite the appearance of confrontation between the two streams
of thought over the 20th century. Indeed, many of these debates were an effort to
reconcile the ideas of nationalism with the place of Islam in the political life of the
Middle East.
Central to these early debates was the tension between tradition and innova-
tion in Islam. In particular, many reformist voices that emerged in the Middle East
and South Asia (particularly the British colonial holdings in India) argued that
the Islamic world had stagnated due to the dominance of religious leaders focused
on taqlid, or emulation, rather than ijtihad, or innovation. Of particular concern
for reformist thinkers were ùlama who argued that the so-called ‘gates of ijtihad ’
were ‘closed’ during the 10th century ce, prohibiting interpretation and adaptation
of Islamic doctrine on the basis that this process would dilute the authority of the
original message. This was criticised by thinkers such as the Iranian-born Jamal
al-Din al-Afghani (1838–97) who argued that this attempt to ‘forbid knowledge
with a view of safeguarding the Islamic religion’ was the source of Islamic decline
(Rahman, 1979).
Al-Afghani’s student, the Egyptian scholar Muhammad Abduh (1849–1905)
took this criticism further, arguing that the ‘supposed superiority of the ancients
was a mere pretext to keep intact the absurdities of the past, and such a pretext of
infallibility must necessarily mean the thwarting of the human intellect’ (for both
of the last two quotes, see Husain, 2003: 109–11). This was a substantial challenge
to the established religious authority in the Muslim world and, by extension, the
colonial authorities who had largely co-opted these authorities. Indeed, many have
argued that these challenges mirror those of the Protestant Reformation within
Christianity.
Reference to ijtihad is found in the Qur ` an as a mode of interpretation over areas where
there is no current source of law.
The second of the ‘Rashidun Caliphs’ (immediate successors to the Prophet
Muhammad), Umar, declared an opening of the ‘gates of ijtihad ’ to clarify the stance
of Islamic law on emerging areas.
During the 10th century ce, a number of Islamic scholars declared the gates of
ijtihad closed in a stated effort to stop Islamic discourse being diluted. This led to an
emphasis on taqlid (emulation or traditionalism) dominating much Islamic scholarship
up to the 19th century ce.
Tensions between Islamist scholars and their secular contemporaries, notably the
nationalists, soon emerged. For instance, Abduh’s student Muhammad Rashid Rida
(1865–1935) articulated the position that the greatest threat to Islamic society was
not those supportive of taqlid over ijtihad, but those proposing secular ideologies
that would more fundamentally marginalise the role of Islam in public life. For
Rashid Rida, priority should be given to a collective effort towards the articulation
of a common shariàh as the best buttress against secularisation.
Salafism and Islamic Reformism

Here, al-Afghani, Abduh and Rashid Rida were part of what was known at the
time as the salafiyya movement. Salafiyya, or as it is commonly known today, salafi,
is a concept that has changed over the 20th century to mean something different
today from its earlier incarnation. The term salafiyya comes from the term as-salaf
as-salih, or ways of the pious/venerable ancestors. The concept was developed in
relation to the reformist thinkers outlined above as they sought to reconcile the core
of the religion (that of the Prophet and his community, the pious ancestors) with
contemporary circumstances (Armstrong, 2002).
The term fundamentalism is often applied to religious movements who reject modern-
ist philosophies and favour an emphasis on literal interpretations and implementation
of religious doctrine.
The phrase originated in relation to Protestant movements in the United States in
the early 20th century, and has since been expanded, often controversially, to include
similar movements in many religions, including Islam.
It is a highly problematic term due to its pejorative use. It is also critiqued for not
distinguishing between people who closely observe religious practice and those who
may engage in acts of violence in pursuit of so-called religious aims.
Therefore, the origins of the salafi movement lie in an effort towards what could be
termed an ‘Islamic revival’ in the face of colonial domination. This revival was, at its
core, a reformist movement. However, in recent years, the connotations of salafism
have changed significantly. In particular, the phrase has come to focus on move-
ments targeted more on the purification element rather than the reformist element.
That is, the term has been reified by observers and commentators on the Middle
East, as well as many movements themselves, as an effort at resisting outside influ-
ences through a return to what may be seen as a mythical, pure, ideal past. It is
here that the term ‘fundamentalism’ has been applied to a number of contemporary
Islamist movements.
Islamist Organisations
Before examining specific movements, it is important to clarify what is meant by an
‘Islamist organisation’ and, by extension, an ‘Islamist’ in the contemporary political
environment. As outlined above, this term is more than simply a Muslim involved
in politics. Instead, these terms refer to an individual or group who seeks the polit-
ical life of a state to reflect Islamic values, in one way or another. The reference to
the state does highlight the modern nature of this ideology, but still leaves a great
deal of ambiguity. In particular, what are ‘Islamic values’ and how should they be
translated into a political system? Is this simply the imposition of the shariàh or
something else? There are no single answers to these questions. As such, the term
remains vague. However, it can be understood in ideological terms as a consciously
identified set of ideals, principles or values held by an individual or group that
shapes their political priorities.
In this regard, there have been a number of movements that have self-identified
as Islamist or Islamically oriented, whose aims revolve around a reorientation of
political life along religious lines. The number of these movements in the Middle
East has grown in recent decades, particularly in the wake of the ideological vacuum
left by the decline of Arab nationalism since the 1960s. As we shall see below, this
occurred at the same time as many regional regimes sought to reorient their own
claims for legitimacy in religious rather than nationalist terms. This has become
a struggle for legitimacy between authoritarian governments and Islamist move-
ments, a key feature of the contemporary politics of the modern Middle East.
The Muslim Brotherhood

Of the innumerable Islamist movements that emerged in the 20th century, the
Muslim Brotherhood (al-ikhwān al-muslimūn) is the most prominent. The movement
was founded in 1928 in Egypt by school teacher Hasan al-Banna in the city of
Ismailia on the Suez Canal. Ismailia was home to a large number of workers on the
canal, as well as being part of the British military garrison system during their rule
in Egypt. The proximity of British rule and the growing resentment amongst the
canal workers towards the British helped shape al-Banna’s ideas of social resistance
through emphasising the need to promote Islamic law and social values. In this
regard, al-Banna drew from the work of al-Afghani, Abduh and Rashid Rida in
highlighting the importance of Islam as a means of opposition and retaining what
they saw as their own cultural heritage.
The organisation initially focused primarily on education and social service, with
the broader view that the modernisation of Egyptian society must be encouraged,
but not at the expense of Egypt’s Islamic identity. Therefore, focusing on efforts
at ensuring the retention of Islamic identity amongst Egypt’s working class was
the best means of seeing the development of an independent, Islamically oriented
Egypt. However, this ‘bottom-up’ approach to Islamist activism soon blended with
more overt challenges to the British-backed government in Cairo. After World War
II, and as tensions with the British were simmering in the context of the conflict
in the last years of the British Mandate in Palestine, the organisation began a pro-
gramme of violence against the government.
The organisation was subsequently banned in late 1948. This led to open
confrontation between Brotherhood members of the government and the then
Egyptian Prime Minister Fahmi an-Nukrashi Pasha, who was assassinated by a
member of the organisation. This was followed in early 1949 with the death of
al-Banna, allegedly at the hands of the government. As a result, through to the Free
Officers’ Coup of 1952 that removed the British-backed monarchy, the organisa-
tion engaged in a series of actions, particularly the burning of government buildings.
Whilst the organisation supported the overthrow of the regime of Faisal II, they
quickly drew the ire of the new regime, particularly after the ascension of Gamal
abd al-Nasser to the presidency in 1954. As a result, the new regime and the organi-
sation, which had grown to several hundred thousand members, became sharply
critical of one another, a legacy that continued through to the end of the regime of
Hosni Mubarak in 2011.
This was not always a policy of direct repression, however. As we shall see
below, the shift of Nasser’s successor, Anwar Sadat, towards an effort to rely
more on the appeal of Islamist than nationalist ideology saw some relaxation in
the activities of the movement. However, they remained formally banned, and
the government’s efforts at reconciliation were aimed more at attempting to har-
ness and exploit the appeal of the widely popular movement than at any form of
genuine reconciliation.
Islam and Political Confrontation

The escalation of oppression by various regimes contributed to the formation of a
new, more confrontationalist form of Islamist ideology. This ideology drew from
earlier articulations of Islamist thought, but diverged in terms of emphasis and
method. Specifically, this new direction both emphasised the taqlid element of
salafi ideology and prescribed the direct challenge of regimes as the best method of
achieving their aims.
Sayyid Qutb’s Ideology

This move towards an articulation of a more confrontationalist Islamist ideology
was most famously captured in the work of Sayyid Qutb. Qutb was a member of the
Muslim Brotherhood and a prolific author. His major work, Milestones (Along the
Way) (maàlim fi al-tariq) is often referred to as one of the most influential works of
modern radical Islamist thought, and is cited by a variety of movements as central
to their ideology.
Selections from Milestones

‘[A]nyone who serves someone other than God … is outside God’s religion, although
he may claim to profess this religion’.
The shari ` ah is ‘of that universal law which governs the entire universe … as
accurate and true as any of the laws known as the “laws of nature” and is the only
guarantee against any kind of discord in life’.
There is a necessity for ‘physical power and jihad for abolishing the organisations
and authorities of the jahili system’.
Qutb’s ideology formed over several periods of his life. One of the most talked about
was the time he spent as a student in the United States in the late 1940s. Here,
Qutb wrote about what he saw as a society that had foregone religion, descending
into indulgence. This propelled Qutb to seek out what he saw as an Islamic answer
to the prospect of this lifestyle spreading to the Middle East.
The core of these new ideas formed around the concept of jahiliyyah (days of
ignorance). This is a term in Islamic scholarship describing the period before Islam
in the Arabian Peninsula. Qutb used this in a pejorative sense to describe the West
(as influenced by his own experiences) and, increasingly, communities in the Middle
East under the rule of secular republican governments or monarchies, the latter
criticised as subservient to Western powers (Khatab, 2006).
By 1954, Qutb had risen to the upper echelons of the Brotherhood’s ranks, and reg-
ularly met with the new President Nasser. However, tension between the two quickly
emerged, with an alleged assassination plot against Nasser in 1954 being pinned
on the movement. This led to the arrest of the group’s leadership, including Qutb.
Consequently, Qutb’s ideology was impacted most directly by his time in prison. It
was here that he wrote the majority of his seminal text, Milestones. In Milestones, Qutb
argued that all attempts by man to impose sovereignty were corrupt, and only God’s
sovereignty (hakamiyyah) was the just and appropriate form of rule. As such, the reali-
sation of a ‘true’ Islamic society was hindered by many obstacles, the most prominent of
which were the various un-Islamic regimes (taghut) across the Middle East.
In this regard, Qutb’s ideology has been interpreted as the full extension of the
salafi ideology, in which Islam forms a complete and inviolable ideology applicable
to all aspects of life. This extends to the question not just of law, with the applica-
tion of the shariàh, but also to questioning the very claims of state sovereignty.
Here, the model for political organisation can be taken from the example of the first
Muslim community, one that should be emulated. As such, Qutb’s writings saw an
effort, counterintuitive as it may seem, to reconcile the previously reformist ideol-
ogy of the early salafis with principles of taqlid, or emulation. However, there was a
reformist element to Qutb’s thought, one that has been influential for many of the
more confrontationalist or radical Islamist movements that have emerged through-
out the late 20th and early 21st centuries. Central to this idea is the reinterpretation
of the concept of jihad (Khatab, 2006).
Jihad
Jihad is the most contested concept of Islamist political discourse, having many dif-
ferent interpretations and applications. The term, loosely translated, means ‘struggle’,
with its most common use in the Quràn meaning to ‘strive in the way of God’ (al-jihad
fi sabil Allah). This use refers to two of the four uses of the term dominant in Sunni
Islam: to struggle against temptation and live as a virtuous Muslim ( jihad of the
heart/jihad bil qalb), and to spread the word of Islam ( jihad of the tongue/jihad bil
lisan). The third usage of the term is in relation to social responsibility, or jihad of the
hand ( jihad bil yad ). This links to the value of charity (zakat), one of the pillars of
Islam, where Muslims are to struggle to build a virtuous society that fulfils the obli-
gations towards social justice for the less fortunate. These first two interpretations
are often referred to as the ‘greater jihad ’, vital parts of living an Islamic life.
The concepts of a greater and lesser jihad developed from a hadith where the Prophet
Muhammad is claimed to have told the Muslim community, upon returning from battle,
that they have come from the lesser to the greater jihad. That is, they have returned
from combat to help build the community.
This distinction is still under debate amongst historians, with some arguing that
there is insufficient evidence in Islamic history to give primacy to the inner/community
struggle over the defensive/armed struggle.
The fourth usage is the most controversial, that of a requirement for the defence of
the Muslim community if it is under threat ( jihad of the sword/jihad bis saif ). The
Quràn contains detailed examinations of the use of force, with a general theme of
only admitting its applicability in defence of the community. Whilst this has not
always been the practice, with many Islamic empires expanding on the back of
military conquest, there has been a relatively consistent effort to attempt to justify
violence in religious terms. For Islamist movements, the use of force as a political
tool emerged in the course of the 20th century with the gradual radicalisation of
parts of Islamist ideology, as we have seen with the writings of Qutb and others. It
is worth looking at Qutb’s use of the term, as it was influential for many subsequent
thinkers and movements (Khatab, 2006).
In particular, Qutb continuously justified the use of force as a defensive measure;
however, his argument for where it should be applied changed in his later writings.
For Qutb, the Muslim world was under threat from the secular nationalist or pro-
Western regional regimes as well as the cultural challenge of Westernisation, the
growth of jahiliyyah. Therefore, the religion needed a vanguard to protect its integ-
rity. This protection needed to be proactive, to directly challenge regional regimes
and their supporters to defend the ‘true’ values of Islam and pursue the implementa-
tion of an Islamic community that would adhere to Qutb’s vision of God’s laws and
God’s sovereignty (hakamiyyah).
In short, the trajectory of Islamist ideology through the 20th century went
from one of social activism by the Muslim Brotherhood before World War II, an
attempt to operate from the bottom-up, to one of more direct political and mili-
tary confrontation to bring about change from the top down. The vast majority of
movements did not adhere to this radical trajectory, but an increasing number of
movements took up this challenge, engaging in armed confrontation with regional
regimes and, later, global powers such as the United States, Russia, the United
Kingdom and others.
I slam as a Political Ideology in the

Contemporary Middle East
Islam and Political Authority
Whilst Islamist opposition movements have been prominent proponents of this
ideology, there was also a critical shift in terms of the use of Islam as a tool for
regime legitimacy. In this regard, one may argue that, more than radical Islamist
movements, the most important impacts of this shift came in the form of regimes
increasingly using Islamic language and ideology and the symbolism of Islam and
Islamism to buttress their rule.
Wahhabism is a religious movement that emerged in the Arabian Peninsula in the 18th
century. Led by conservative Muslim theologian Muhammad ibn’abd al-Wahhab, the
movement emphasises the unity (awhid) of God as well as conforming to prescribed
aspects of religious observance (taqlid).
Wahhab’s followers joined with the Saud family during their conquests of the Arabian
Peninsula in the 18th century, seeing this brand of Islam become the state-sponsored
form of the religion in Saudi Arabia. In this regard, the Saudi state has been active is
sponsoring the development of a similar form of Wahhabist Islam beyond its borders.
The Wahhabist doctrine is often criticised as legitimising the violation of the rights of
women and minorities, particularly the Shi ` a minority, in Saudi Arabia, as well as playing a
role in the emergence of radical movements in Saudi Arabia and across the Muslim world.
This was not a new process, with the Saudi regime employing their own form of
Wahhabi Islam, alongside their custodianship of the Holy Cities of Mecca and
Medina, as key pillars of their claims to rule. In addition, the Hashemite mon-
archies as well as the Alaouite dynasty in Morocco emphasised their links to the
Prophet Muhammad’s family. However, the use of Islamic symbolism by republican,
and often former radical nationalist regimes highlighted the changing ideological
landscape in the Middle East. In addition, this also represented a broader geopolit-
ical shift as conservative monarchies as well as some republics, such as Tunisia and
Egypt from the 1970s, were key allies of the United States, thus also strengthening
their hand in Middle Eastern affairs. Here, the reforms in Egypt under Anwar
Sadat best encapsulate these changes.
Islam and Authority in Sadat’s Egypt

This shift from a focus on Arab nationalism to the use of Islam as a political ide-
ology can be seen starkly in post-Nasser Egypt under the presidency of Anwar
Sadat. Sadat was part of the Free Officers’ movement that came to power in 1952,
later serving as Nasser’s Vice President. Despite being perceived initially as seeking
to continue on Nasser’s path, Sadat quickly broke with established patterns with a
series of reforms to liberalise the Egyptian economy, purging the government and
key agencies of potential rivals, and began planning to change Egypt’s weak strate-
gic position vis-à-vis Israel.
In relation to Israel, Sadat led planning for a war with Israel in 1973. On
6 October that year, the Jewish holy day of Yom Kippur, Egypt and Syria launched
a coordinated attack on Israeli positions in the Sinai and Golan Heights. Israel
maintained its military supremacy; however, Sadat’s plan was more to demonstrate
that Israel was not militarily invincible. This was achieved through the ability of the
Egyptian army to cross the canal and push past the Israeli front line. Whilst the
Israeli army subsequently pushed the Egyptian armed forces back, the early sym-
bolic victory gave Sadat greater flexibility in future peace negotiations with Israel.
This conflict also had significant global ramifications, with the oil-producing states
of the Gulf imposing an oil embargo that threatened to push the global economy
into recession.
This effort at strategic realignment was accompanied by an effort to move
towards a permanent settlement of Egypt’s conflict with Israel. Another part of
this shift of Sadat’s ‘revolution of rectification’ was the infitah, or opening, policy, in
which previously nationalised Egyptian industries were deregulated and privatised.
These reforms will be discussed later. However, it is important to note here that the
eventual peace treaty that emerged from this conflict, signed between Egypt and
Israel in 1978, also saw Egypt reorienting its foreign policy away from the Soviet
Union and towards the United States. This came with the benefit of Egypt becom-
ing the second largest recipient of US aid, behind Israel, a factor that was critical to
Egyptian economic viability in the face of failing economic reforms, although it also
fed into growing discontent with Sadat’s rule, particularly from Islamic organisa-
tions who highlighted this as evidence of Sadat becoming simply another Western
proxy in the Middle East.
This line of criticism was one that cut across both nationalist and Islamist rhet-
oric, drawing on the resentment of foreign interference born from the colonial
period. However, it was Islamist movements that were able to gain traction in their
criticism of the regime. The Muslim Brotherhood benefited from limited political
liberalisation under Sadat, and exploited this restricted room to expand its member-
ship and lead the opposition to the regime.
Opposition also emerged amongst radical Islamist organisations who advocated
a violent overthrow of the regime and the imposition of a strict implementation of
shariàh. In this regard, the efforts by Sadat to shore up his own domestic support
through an ideological reorientation towards an emphasis on Islamic legitimacy
eventually proved too powerful for the regime to handle. With unrest spreading
throughout the general population, key government institutions were increasingly
infiltrated by members of radical organisations. This infiltration was evidenced
most starkly when Sadat was assassinated on 6 October 1981 by members of the
group Islamic Jihad, posing as military officers during an official military parade.
Whilst Sadat was killed by Islamists, the reorientation of Egypt at this time rep-
resented a common trend across the region towards an emphasis on religious over
nationalist ideology and legitimacy. Regimes sought to and often achieved control
over this shift. However, momentous events in Shià Iran provide a different exam-
ple, with revolution and the establishment of the Islamic Republic in 1979.
The Islamic Revolution in Iran

It is difficult to underestimate the importance of the Islamic Revolution in Iran. At an
ideological level, it led to the creation of the first ‘modern’ form of Islamic state under
the Ayatollah Khomeini’s vision of the ‘Governance of the Jurist’ (vilayat-e-faqih).
This was a challenge to republics and monarchies alike, a revolutionary model that
the new government sought to export across the region. It also resonated at the geo-
political level, with the collapse of the Iranian monarchy depriving the US of a key ally
in the region. Indeed, the new Islamic Republic introduced a third pole of influence
in the Middle East outside the traditional dynamic of US-allied conservative monar-
chies and republics and Soviet-allied republics. The viability of the Islamic Republic
has come under increasing question; however, the monumental change brought about
by the revolution was a seminal moment in the history of the Middle East.
Iran, the US and the ‘White Revolution’

The Iranian monarch Reza Shah abdicated his throne in 1941 under pressure from
the British and Soviets, passing authority to his son, Mohammad Reza Shah. After
the end of the war, Iran became a key ally of the United States during the Cold
War. Here, the US assisted in the development of a nascent Iranian nuclear energy
programme, as well as training and arming the large Iranian army. As discussed in
Chapter 3, the US also used clandestine means to support the monarchy through
assisting in the overthrow of the democratically elected government of Mohammad
Mossadeq in 1953.
In the wake of the 1953 coup, the tentative liberalisations implemented by
Mohammad Reza Shah were clawed back. The Shià religious establishment along-
side the new urban middle classes suffered the most from the imposition of these
restrictions, particularly those who supported Mossadeq and his Tudeh Party.
This repression also included the creation of a ruthless internal security organisation,
the SAVAK (sazeman-e ettelaàt va amniyat-e keshvar) in 1957, with support from
the US and Israel (Keddie, 2006).
Opposition crystallised amongst the religious establishment as well as left-
ist intellectuals. These movements raised a series of protests against the regime
through the early 1960s, led by the Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini, focusing on the
corruption and repression of the regime as well as the efforts by the monarchy to
marginalise the religious establishment and downplay the religious heritage of Iran.
It is important to note here the more formal nature of the Shià religious establish-
ment, as outlined above, and the ability of this structure to organise and mobilise
oppositional support.
In response to these protests, the Shah did implement a series of reforms through
his so-called ‘White Revolution’. This involved a series of economic reforms, particu-
larly rural land reform and literacy campaigns. In addition, the Shah also expended
a great deal of state resources on campaigns to emphasise Iran’s pre-Islamic history,
linking the legitimacy of his regime to that of the ancient Persian empires of Cyrus
and Darius. This process was encapsulated by the celebrations of the so-called 2500-
year anniversary of Persian civilisation at the ancient capital of Persepolis in 1971.
Whilst the Iranian economy was struggling, the regime spent $200 million on a lavish
four-day celebration that focused on Iran’s pre-Islamic period and how the monarchy
represented continuity between that period and the present (Keddie, 2006).
The Islamic Revolution and Structure of the Islamic Republic

By the mid-1970s, the monarchy gave the appearance of strength but this masked
growing disillusionment in Iranian society. As is discussed above and in Chapter 6,
the oil price shocks of 1973 that accompanied the Arab–Israeli war of that year saw
a massive influx of funds into state coffers. Whilst some in Iran made massive for-
tunes, this situation set in train a cycle of inflation that impacted on both the lower
and middle classes. At the same time, the regime perceived this as an opportunity
to further restrict political freedoms, which exacerbated tensions fed by the rapidly
changing economic environment.
What emerged was a highly diverse opposition movement united by the com-
mon theme of opposition to the excesses of the monarchy. Representative of this
diversity was perhaps the opposition’s leading intellectual, Àli Shariati. With a long
history of political activism and confrontation with the regime, Shariati articu-
lated an ideology that combined Islamist reformism (particularly in terms of the
role of the Shià political establishment) and revolutionary nationalism that echoed
themes of the Arab nationalists (Keddie, 2006).
Shariati’s ideology proved immensely popular, particularly amongst Iran’s large

young urban population, employing a blend of religious and revolutionary ideol-
ogy. Whilst the details of this ideology were vague, particularly in terms of how a
new government would look, Shariati’s critique of the Shah’s regime helped create
a critical mass of opposition to royal rule. The death of Shariati in 1977, allegedly
at the hands of the SAVAK, added further resentment and opposition momentum.
Despite this, the religious establishment remained divided over their stance towards
the regime. Cleveland and Bunton identify three positions amongst the religious
establishment, with one group seeking to remain outside of politics, a second argu-
ing for a re-establishment of the constitution that was suspended after the 1953
coup, and a third calling for the overthrow of the regime (2009: 426–7).
It was from exile in Iraq and France that the Ayatollah Khomeini took up the
mantle of confronting the regime. Khomeini was able to influence the articulation
of revolutionary sentiment through his writings and speeches, which were smug-
gled into Iran. Apart from the articulation of opposition sentiment, Khomeini’s
most important contribution at this time was the volume Government of the Islamic
Jurist (vilayet-e-faqih: hukomat-e-Islami). In this book, Khomeini not only argued
for the removal of the Iranian regime, but also outlined how an Islamic regime
should be structured and implemented.
The key features of this new arrangement would be rule by Islamic scholars
(faqih) in conjunction with a political system. The applicability of this system to
Islamic principles would be guided by decisions of the religious authorities, who
could veto government decisions and appointments should they deem them to be
contrary to Islamic principles. This was particularly appropriate for Iranian Shià
Islam with the presence of a religious hierarchy. Although this would help this
ideology resonate in Iran, it would limit its spread to the rest of the predominantly
Sunni Middle East.
Whilst opposition sentiment was increasingly articulated in Islamist terms by
Khomeini, anti-regime sentiment still ran the gamut of opinion, through revolu-
tionary Marxist, nationalist and Islamist ideologies. However, the regime focused
on suppressing the religious establishment, with an emphasis on subduing protests
in the religious centre of Qom, leading to the death of a number of protestors.
Combined with Khomeini’s increasingly prominent role, the opposition increas-
ingly articulated its dissent in religious terms through 1978. This movement
reached a critical mass in that year as the Iranian economy stagnated, drawing the
powerful Iranian trade unions onto the streets. Confronted with mass protests, the
lower ranks of the military broke to join the opposition. In January 1979, the Shah
left Iran, ostensibly for medical treatment. The power vacuum allowed for a return
of Khomeini by February, declaring an end to the Iranian monarchy.
The toppling of the monarchy did not provide an immediate answer to the ques-
tion of what would come next. The primary tension was between Khomeini and
his supporters and those who supported the retention of the old constitution with
a President to replace the monarchy. Supporters of the latter position, particularly
the leftist organisations, threw their support behind the post-revolutionary Prime
Minister Mehdi Bazargan. As a result, two branches of government were formed,
one under Bazargan and the other, modelled on Khomeini’s ideas of government
guided by Islamic jurists (vilayat-e-faqih). The dysfunctional relationship between
the two led to Bazargan’s resignation by the end of 1979 and a consolidation of
power by Khomeini and his supporters.
The new regime faced a series of rolling crises, with challenges from groups,
previously part of the revolutionary movement, who now openly challenged the
authority of Khomeini. In addition, the invasion of Iraq in September 1980 and
Iran’s growing international isolation, and particularly the confrontation with their
former ally, the US, led many to conclude that the new regime would not survive.
Confrontation with the US

The confrontation between the Islamic Republic of Iran and the United States has
been a key feature of regional affairs since the late 1970s. This was a tension rooted
in the close relationship between the regime of the Shah and the US, including the
American role in the toppling of the Mossadeq government in 1953 and the role
of US aid and finance in the development of the SAVAK, the Shah’s favoured tool
for repression of the opposition. After the revolution, one of the most dramatic dip-
lomatic stand-offs would solidify this confrontation, one that continues to define
the relationship between Iran and the US. On 4 November 1979, a group of pro-
revolutionary students, backed by elements of the regime, stormed the US Embassy
compound taking 66 American citizens hostage. As embassies are considered part
of the sovereign territory of a country, this was an audacious and provocative move
that was tantamount to the invasion of US sovereign territory.
The hostage crisis helped buttress the new regime’s popular legitimacy, portray-
ing it as willing to follow up its rhetoric with action. For the US, this incident
was critical in undermining domestic support for President Carter, who would be
defeated in the 1980 presidential elections by Republican candidate Ronald Reagan.
In addition, the confrontation would position the US as Iran’s primary enemy, or, in
the words of Khomeini, the ‘Great Satan’. For the US, and particularly the incoming
Republican administration, the inability of the US to rescue the hostages until the
negotiated release in 1981, after 444 days, established Iran as their main antagonist
in the Middle East. Here, the Islamic character of the Iranian regime was marginal
to this antagonism. Instead, it was the loss of a key regional ally, coupled with the
confrontational stance by both the US and the new government in Tehran, that led
to the tension that has characterised their relationship ever since.
The failure of the plan to rescue the US Embassy hostages, ‘Operation Eagle Claw’,
was a disaster for the US. The operation was to involve the landing of US Special Forces
in the embassy via helicopter, the freeing of the hostages and airlifting the hostages out.
However, the plan was aborted after the helicopters had left due to bad weather. The
resulting confusion saw one of the six helicopters collide with a supply aircraft, resulting
in the death of eight US servicemen.
The humiliation of the failed mission is seen by many as a key reason why President
Carter lost the 1980 presidential election to Ronald Reagan.
Structure of the Islamic Republic

The relative success of the hostage crisis for the Iranians did not end the series of
dramatic events that marked the founding of the Islamic Republic. The Iraqi inva-
sion of Iran in 1980 saw Iran become mired in the longest conventional war of the
20th century, with an estimated 1 million Iranian deaths. In addition, various local
insurgencies continued, as well as geopolitical isolation, as the US sought to pressure
their new regional nemesis. Despite this, the new government pushed ahead with the
implementation of its vision of how an ‘Islamic Republic’ should be structured. In this
regard, it was an archetypically Shià version of Islamic governance, with an emphasis
on the role of the religious hierarchy, particularly that of the Ayatollah, and its task of
overseeing temporal governance. This new model of governance was developed pri-
marily by Khomeini, and was known as the ‘Governance of the Jurist’ (vilayat-e-faqih).
The central principle of the vilayat-e-faqih is the notion of governance or guard-
ianship by Islamic jurists. The position of these jurists is enshrined in a number
of key institutions, particularly the Supreme Leader, the Assembly of Experts and
the Guardian Council. Codified in the 1979 Constitution, this system provides for
a measure of civilian rule, but the decisions of a popularly elected parliament and
president, including the selection of candidates running for seats in parliament or
who runs for president, are vetted by the Guardian Council. In turn, the members
of the Guardian Council are selected by the Supreme Leader.
In other words, the system of governance in Iran contains a series of checks and
balances between the jurists and the popularly elected institutions. However, on
balance, the authority of the popularly elected positions is reliant on the support of
the Supreme Leader and, particularly, of the 12-member Guardian Council. The
validity of this system has been brought into question in recent years, particularly
in terms of the role of the Guardian Council in the vetting of candidates for the
parliament and presidency. And so, the ultimate success and viability of the world’s
most visible example of Islamist governance remains in doubt.
GUARDIAN HEAD OF
PARLIAMENT
COUNCIL JUDICIARY
ELECTORATE
PRESIDENT CABINET ARMED FORCES
ASSEMBLY OF SUPREME EXPEDIENCY

EXPERTS LEADER COUNCIL
Directly Elected Appointed or Approved Vets Candidates
Figure 4.7 Structure of the Islamic Republic of Iran
Conclusion
Whilst the ideologies of nationalism and Islamism are often treated as exclusive,
discrete concepts, this chapter has deliberately discussed them together. This is to
highlight the interconnectedness of these ideologies. Although they focus on dif-
ferent priorities and themes, they also display similar trends, primarily through their
origins as responses to external interference in regional affairs. This has resulted
in the formation of regimes across the region as an effort to achieve the goals of
these ideologies, whether this is in the nationalist regimes in the Arab world or
the Islamic Republic of Iran. Finally, whilst the ideology of political Islam came to
dominate that of nationalist discourse, in recent years Islamist ideology has come
under increasing scrutiny for its radicalisation and lack of clarity in terms of how its
political vision is to be implemented.
Study Questions
♦♦ What have been the major ideological influences over the politics of the mod-
ern Middle East?
♦♦ What are the main features of Arab nationalism?
♦♦ What have been the main points of tension between pan-Arab ideology and
local and parochial issues?
♦♦ What is the relationship between nationalism and Islamism?
♦♦ What are the main features of Islamist political discourse and how does this
differ between Sunni and Shi ` a communities?
♦♦ How have these ideologies taken organisational form?
♦♦ What role have they played in both opposition and in assisting authoritarian
regimes to maintain their rule?
Further Reading
Dawisha, Adeed (2003) Arab Nationalism in the Twentieth Century: From Triumph
to Despair. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press.
A comprehensive analysis of the origins, development and declining influence of
Arab nationalist ideology, with a particular emphasis on its organisational manifes-
tations and influence over key Arab regimes.
El Fadl, Khaled Abou (2004) Islam and the Challenge of Democracy. Princeton, NJ:
Princeton University Press.
A short, but highly insightful analysis of the various elements of the debate sur-
rounding Islam and democracy from a reformist perspective.
Esposito, John L. (1991) Islam: The Straight Path. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
A key work in outlining the tenets of Islam with a particular view to how the reli-
gion has developed its relationship with the political sphere.
Kepel, Gilles (2003) Jihad: The Trail of Political Islam. London: I.B. Tauris.
One of the first key works examining the development of radical Islamist discourse
and its links to modern radical Islamist doctrine.

References
Anderson, Benedict (1991) Imagined Communities: Reflections on the Origin and
Spread of Nationalism. London: Verso.
Armstrong, Karen (2002) Islam: A Short History. New York: Modern Library.
Barakat, Halim (1993) The Arab World: Society, Culture, and State. Berkeley, CA:
Choueiri, Youssef (2000) Arab Nationalism: A History – Nation and State in the Arab
World. Oxford: Blackwell.
Devlin, John F. (1976) The Baath Party: A History from its Origins to 1966. New
York: Hoover Institution Press.
Husain, Mir Zohair (2003) Global Islamic Politics. New York: Longman.
Keddie, Nikki R. (2006) Modern Iran: Roots and Results of Revolution. New Haven,
CT: Yale University Press.
Khatab, Sayed (2006) The Power of Sovereignty: The Political and Ideological Philosophy
of Sayyid Qutb. London: Routledge.
Morris, Benny (2001) Righteous Victims: A History of the Zionist–Arab Conflict,
1881–2001. New York: Vintage.
Podeh, Elie and Winckler, Onn Nasserism (2004) Revolution and Historical Memory
in Modern Egypt. Gainesville: University Press of Florida.
Rahman, Fazlur (1979) Islam. Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press.
Salibi, Kamal S. (1990) A House of Many Mansions: The History of Lebanon
Reconsidered. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press.
Shemesh, Moshe (2004) ‘Prelude to the Six Day War: The Arab–Israeli Struggle
Over Water Relations’, Israel Studies, 9(3): 1–45.
Versteegh, Kees (2001) The Arabic Language. New York: Columbia University Press.
Zeitoun, Mark (2011) Power and Water in the Middle East: The Hidden Politics of the
Palestinian–Israeli Water Conflict. London: I.B. Tauris.
5
Israel, the
Palestinians and the
Peace Process
Learning Objectives
♦♦ The dynamics of the Israeli–Palestinian Peace Process.

♦♦ The key controversies surrounding specific issues in the Peace Process and the
various arguments associated with these views.
♦♦ The influence of competing norms, particularly Israeli claims to self-defence and
Palestinian claims to self-determination, over the conflict.
♦♦ The influence of Israeli and Palestinian narratives, particularly those relating to
identity and politics.
♦♦ The impacts of the US–Israeli relationship on the conflict as well as its impacts on
both Israeli and US domestic politics.
TIMELINE
29 November 1947: UNGA 20 August 1993: Signing of the

Resolution 181 Declaration of Principles from
the Oslo Negotiations
11 December 1948: UNGA
Resolution 194 25 February 1994: Settler Baruch
Goldstein kills 29 Palestinians in
22 November 1967: UNSC Hebron
Resolution 242
4 May 1994: Palestinian Authority
15 December 1969: Golda Meir
formed
elected Prime Minister of Israel
(Labour-led coalition) 4 November 1995: Assassination
of Israeli Prime Minister Yitzhak
22 October 1973: UNSC
Rabin by Israeli citizen Yigal
Resolution 338
Amir
3 June 1974: Yitzhak Rabin elected
22 November 1995: Shimon Peres
Prime Minister of Israel (Labour-
appointed Prime Minister of
led coalition)
Israel (Labour-led coalition)
20 June 1977: Menachim Begin
elected Prime Minister of Israel 18 June 1996: Benjamin
(Likud-led coalition) Netanyahu elected Prime
Minister of Israel (Likud-led
10 October 1983: Yitzhak coalition)
Shamir appointed Prime
Minister of Israel (Likud-led 17 January 1997: Signing of the
coalition) Hebron Protocol
13 September 1984: Shimon Peres 23 October 1998: Signing of the

elected Prime Minister of Israel Wye River Memorandum
(Labour-led coalition) 6 July 1999: Ehud Barak elected
20 October 1986: Yitzhak Shamir Prime Minister of Israel (Labour-
elected Prime Minister of Israel led coalition)
(Likud-led coalition) 11–25 July 2000: Camp David
March 1987: Founding of Hamas Negotiations
December 1987–December 1993: 28 September 2000: Ariel Sharon’s

First intifada visit to Haram ash-Sharif
15 November 1988: Palestinian September 2000–May 2005:
Declaration of Independence Second (al-Aqsa) intifada
30 October 1991: Madrid Peace 21–27 January 2001: Taba Peace
Conference Summit
13 July 1992: Yitzhak Rabin 7 March 2001: Ariel Sharon elected
elected Prime Minister of Israel Prime Minister of Israel (Likud-
(Labour-led coalition) led coalition)
Israel, the Palestinians and the Peace Process 141
27 March 2002: Arab League 25 January 2006: Hamas wins

Peace Proposal Palestinian legislative elections
16 June 2002: Construction 12 July–14 August 2006: Israel–
commences on Israeli security Hezbollah war
barrier 15 December 2006–14 June 2007:
24 June 2002: Road Map Peace Fatah–Hamas conflict
Plan announced 14 June 2007: Dissolution of the
11 November 2004: Yasser Arafat Palestinian Unity Government
dies 27 December 2008–18 January
9 January 2005: Mahmoud Abbas 2009: Israeli invasion of Gaza
elected head of the PA (‘Operation Cast Lead’)
31 March 2009: Benjamin
15 August 2005: Gaza withdrawal
Netanyahu elected Prime Minister
23 November 2005: Ariel Sharon of Israel (Likud-led coalition)
forms the Kadima Party 27 April 2011: Fatah–Hamas
4 January 2006: Ehud Olmert rapprochement (Cairo Agreement)
appointed Prime Minister of 24 September 2011: PA submits
Israel (Kadima-led coalition) after request for full membership of
Ariel Sharon suffers a stroke the United Nations
Introduction
This chapter explores the ongoing controversies around the Israeli–Palestinian con-
flict. In particular, discussion here is framed around the key controversies that have
hindered the development of the ‘Peace Process’ since 1991. The process itself will be
outlined in conjunction with a discussion of the issue of Israeli settlements, Palestinian
refugees and the ‘right of return’, and the question of territory and Palestinian state-
hood. In addition to these specific issues, this chapter will also discuss factors that
have framed the conflict, particularly in terms of the competing norms of self-defence
and self-determination, alongside the competing narratives of Israeli and Palestinian
identity. Finally, this chapter will also discuss the influence of the US–Israeli relation-
ship, including the various dynamics that affect the US role in the ongoing conflict.
The Israeli–Palestinian Peace Process

The Israeli–Palestinian Peace Process was initiated in 1991 in Madrid and has con-
tinued with minimal success. The initiation of the process occurred as a result of
the 1987 Palestinian intifada and the PLO support for Iraq during the 1990–1 Gulf
War, which put pressure on both sides to pursue negotiations. It was also facilitated
by the thaw in Cold War tensions by the end of the 1980s.
The Intifada and the Impacts of the Gulf War

On 9 December 1987 a wave of violent protests spread across the Occupied
Territories. Characterised by organic civic unrest against both the Israeli occupation
since 1967 and ineffective leadership amongst the Palestinians, the uprising (inti-
fada) fundamentally changed the dynamics between the Israelis and the Palestinians.
In particular, the ‘rallies, boycotts, and protests’ raised the costs of occupation for
Israel as well as symbolising a challenge to the established Palestinian leadership
(Baxter and Akbarzadeh, 2008: 140). In terms of internal aspects of the intifada,
the PLO leadership, exiled in Tunis since the 1982 Israeli invasion of Lebanon,
tried desperately to gain command over events that were quickly spiralling beyond
control. In terms of external aspects, the conventional military power of the Israeli
army struggled to respond to this form of civil unrest, drawing heavy international
criticism for armed responses to unarmed Palestinian protests. Consequently, the
Likud government of Yitzhak Shamir felt increasingly pressured to engage in a
political process of negotiation with the Palestinians.
As the PLO leadership under Yasser Arafat struggled to respond, in addition
to countering the growing influence of newer Palestinian movements such as
Hamas, they made a strategic miscalculation that would contribute to the drive
towards negotiations. The Iraqi invasion of Kuwait on 2 August 1990 led to UN
Security Council Resolutions 661 and 662 authorising the use of force to expel
Iraqi forces from Kuwait. In response, the Arab League was divided in their
response, with the Syrian regime supporting armed action as leverage for their
position in Lebanon. For their part, the PLO rejected armed action, hoping to
preserve the valuable funding received from Hussein’s regime. Kuwait reacted
strongly to Arafat’s position, labelling him a traitor, calling for a cessation of all
Arab funding to the PLO, and expelling the tens of thousands of Palestinian
workers from the country. This loss of funding and regional support combined
with a lack of control over the intifada led Arafat to also consider the path of
negotiation.
The Peace Process

Despite this momentum, the initial process did not result in direct talks between
Israel and the Palestinians. Instead, this happened through back channels alongside
a new regional initiative for regional peace negotiations. These back channel
negotiations would eventually manifest into the faltering Peace Process that has
become a mainstay of regional affairs.
The Madrid Conference (1991–3)

The Peace Process commenced with the Madrid Conference in October–November
1991. Ostensibly, it was a conference to kick-start negotiations between Israel and
its regional neighbours, with the conference attended by Israel, the Palestinians
and representatives from Syria, Lebanon and Jordan. However, Israel refused to
participate if the PLO served as the Palestinian representatives, resulting in the
Palestinians attending in a joint committee with the Jordanians.
Whilst these negotiations did not result in an official agreement between the
PLO and the then-Likud Shamir government, they did lead to unofficial talks
between the Palestinians and the new Labour government of Yitzhak Rabin after
1992, as well as laying the groundwork for the 1994 Israeli–Jordanian Peace Treaty.
Indeed, it was the symbolism of the negotiations that was the most important
outcome of the Madrid process, allowing both the Israelis and the Palestinians to
outline the parameters they saw as a prerequisite for peace.
The Oslo Process and the Declaration of Principles

These developments would make their most significant progress in the Oslo
Process. These negotiations began in secret between Israeli government rep-
resentative Yossi Beilin, PLO representative Ahmed Qurei and Norwegian
facilitator Terje Rød-Larsen during the Madrid process. This resulted in a series
of meetings between high-ranking officials from both sides in Norway through
1992 and 1993, facilitating an initial agreement on negotiation parameters and,
critically, recognition from both sides of each other as legitimate representatives.
This was important as it established Israeli recognition of the PLO as the legit-
imate representatives of the Palestinians (ergo recognition of the Palestinians as
a community and, arguably, an equal negotiating party) and Palestinian recog-
nition of the State of Israel. The US became an increasingly central part of the
negotiations as they took on a more official tone. By September 1993, both par-
ties had agreed on a Declaration of Principles for future negotiations, codified
in a signing ceremony on the front lawn of the White House, and also leading
to Nobel Peace Prizes in 1994 for Arafat, Prime Minister Rabin and Foreign
Minister Shimon Peres.
The Declaration of Principles laid out aspirational goals including Palestinian
self-government to be achieved through the establishment of a new Palestinian
political authority that would later become the Palestinian Authority (PA).
This new authority would assist in a transfer of governance during a five-year

interim period during which negotiations over key issues would take place. This
would culminate in ‘final status’ negotiations resulting in a peace treaty. This
final status would be full mutual recognition and security assurances, with a
settlement based on the 1967 borders and the principles of Security Council
Resolutions 242 (1967) and 338 (1973). In order for this transfer to take place,
a Palestinian security force would be established and an elected parliament
formed that would extend its authority over the West Bank and the Gaza Strip.
This authority would also be required to take steps to ensure Israeli security
(Milton-Edwards, 2009).
However, the lack of detail in the Declaration of Principles led to the process
faltering almost immediately. Questions over the future of Israeli settlements, the
issue of Palestinian refugees, security assurances, control of territory and many other
issues remained unresolved. As such, the lack of progress through the mid-1990s
saw the Peace Process stall, with a hardening of positions on both sides as they
sought to strengthen their bargaining position.
The Camp David Summit

In addition to the lack of concrete progress, there was an escalation of violence
between the two parties, both in terms of conflict between the Israeli Defence Force
(IDF) and the PA as well as more consequential conflict between various groups
on both sides, from settlers and militant groups, to the broader civilian population.
This was increasingly reflected in the growing influence of right-wing and reli-
gious parties in the Israeli political scene, as well as the increasingly violent tactics
amongst a number of Palestinian groups.
The deterioration of the situation and the ongoing stagnation of progress
over the phased reciprocal negotiation style of the Oslo Process saw a new
initiative launched by the US in 2000. As President Clinton neared the end
of his second term, he proposed a summit between Arafat and Labour Prime
Minister Barak designed to address all the key issues in a single high-level meet-
ing. Convened at Camp David, the same location as the negotiations that led to
the Israeli–Egyptian Peace Treaty, this summit had ambitious aims, and failed
to meet its objectives. This failure was as much about the problematic nature of
the goals of the negotiations as it was about the levels of distrust between the
two parties, particularly in terms of the increasing lack of control Arafat exerted
over the Palestinians as a result of the growing influence of Hamas (Baxter and
Akbarzadeh, 2008: 147). In addition, the Israeli political scene was increasingly
polarised in terms of how to respond to Palestinian violence throughout the
1990s, and the growing radicalism of many religious parties and those in the
settler movement.
From Robert Malley and Hussein Agha (2001) ‘Camp David: The Tragedy of Errors’, The
New York Review of Books, 9 August:
In accounts of what happened at the July 2000 Camp David summit and the
following months of Israeli–Palestinian negotiations, we often hear about Ehud
Barak’s unprecedented offer and Yasser Arafat’s uncompromising no. Israel is said
to have made a historic, generous proposal, which the Palestinians, once again
seizing the opportunity to miss an opportunity, turned down. In short, the failure
to reach a final agreement is attributed, without notable dissent, to Yasser Arafat.
As orthodoxies go, this is a dangerous one. For it has larger ripple effects. Broader
conclusions take hold. That there is no peace partner is one. That there is no possible
end to the conflict under Arafat is another.
For a process of such complexity, the diagnosis is remarkably shallow. It ignores
history, the dynamics of the negotiations and the relationships among the three parties.
In so doing, it fails to capture why what so many viewed as a generous Israeli offer, the
Palestinians viewed as neither generous, nor Israeli, nor, indeed, as an offer. Worse, it acts
as a harmful constraint on American policy by offering up a single, convenient culprit –
Arafat – rather than a more nuanced and realistic analysis.
From Dennis Ross and Gidi Grinstein (2001) ‘Camp David: An Exchange’, The New
York Review of Books, 20 September:
… their [Malley and Agha’s] account of ‘the tragedy of errors’ of Camp David – though
correct in many aspects – is glaring in its omission of Chairman Arafat’s mistakes.
One is left with the impression that only Barak did not fulfill commitments. But that
is both wrong and unfair, particularly given Arafat’s poor record on compliance.
Moreover, while striving to prove that the reality was far more complicated than
Israel offering and Palestinians rejecting, they equate tactical mistakes with strategic
errors. Did Prime Minister Barak make mistakes in his tactics, his negotiating priori-
ties and his treatment of Arafat? Absolutely. Did the American side make mistakes
in its packaging and presentation of ideas? Absolutely. Are Prime Minister Barak
and President Clinton responsible for the failure to conclude a deal? Absolutely not.
On the surface, the failure of the negotiations themselves was put down to a refusal
on the part of Arafat to accept an unprecedented offer on the part of the Israelis.
However, this is hotly contested. For instance, Robert Malley (Special Assistant to
President Clinton for Arab–Israeli Affairs and member of the Camp David nego-
tiating team) and Hussein Agha (Palestinian participant at Camp David) have
argued that this is misleading in that the Israelis never presented a specific plan to
the Palestinians, nor did they address key issues such as the question of Palestinian
refugees (Malley and Agha, 2001).
In response, Bill Clinton’s Middle East envoy Ambassador Dennis Ross has
argued that this view ignores what he calls ‘Arafat’s poor record on compliance’ in
previous negotiations where both the US and the Israelis were prepared to reach
a deal (Ross and Grinstein, 2001). For Ross, these negotiations were to be set in a
broader context of Palestinian intransigence whilst, for Malley and Agha, this was a
moot point as the Palestinians did not have an agreement to consent to.
The failure of these negotiations, and the arguments over responsibility, led to
a significant degeneration of the conflict and polarisation of both sides. This was
symbolised in the outbreak of violence in 2000. On 28 September of that year, the
leader of the Likud Party Ariel Sharon visited the Haram ash-Sharif in Jerusalem’s
Old City, including the al-Aqsa mosque. This visit proved provocative, sparking
protests across the territories, protests that led to organised violence that would
become known as the al-Aqsa intifada.
As violence spiralled out of control again, the provisions of all previous negotiations
were suspended. This sharpening of tensions was fostered by a hardening of attitudes
on both sides, including the furthering of the influence of Hamas, the election of
Sharon’s Likud in February 2001 and the global context influenced by the events of
11 September 2001. These divisions and the general hopelessness of the situation were
also reflected in the back-and-forth allegations over responsibility for the violence.
Arab League Initiatives, the ‘Road Map’ and Unilateral Actions

From this point, the Peace Process became sidelined by the ongoing violence as well
as the global tensions post-9/11 and the subsequent US-led invasions of Afghanistan
in 2001 and Iraq in 2003. In this context, in 2002 the Arab League proposed a broad
settlement that revolved around a full normalisation of relations between Israel and
its neighbours, withdrawal from territories occupied after 1967 (including East
Jerusalem) and a ‘just settlement’ of the refugee issue. The Palestinian Authority fully
supported the plan, whilst it was officially rejected by the Israelis (Quandt, 2005).
Israeli rejection of this occurred alongside their support of the ‘Road Map for
Peace’ proposed by US President George W. Bush with the support of the UN, the
EU and Russia in 2002. In many ways, the Road Map was a return to the phased
negotiations process of Oslo, with a staged transition to a final settlement based
around the establishment of a Palestinian state. Again, the lack of progress on key
issues and reciprocal allegations of violation of the tenets of the agreement saw it
essentially become redundant by the end of Bush’s second term in 2008.
There was one significant change to the political landscape when Prime Minister
Sharon instigated a unilateral withdrawal of settlements from the Gaza Strip, an
area dominated by Hamas, in August 2005. For their part, the growing power of
Hamas was codified in 2006 when they defeated the dominant Fatah faction in the
elections for the Palestinian parliament. Whilst this is detailed below, this has led
to a situation that resembled the pre-Madrid scenario, where key factions on both
sides refused to recognise the other as legitimate.
Indeed, this was reinforced by a successful effort on the part of Sharon and
President Bush to marginalise Arafat, seeing him confined in his compound in
Ramallah after 2002 under allegations of instigating the violence associated with the
al-Aqsa intifada. By late 2004, Arafat had fallen ill, passing away on 11 November of
that year. His old combatant Sharon suffered a stroke in 2006, leaving him incapaci-
tated. Now, even the most basic building blocks of the Peace Process lay in tatters.
The Parameters of Negotiations

From exploring the dynamics of the negotiation process, it is important to now unpack
the key parameters of negotiations. In particular, this section will outline the key ele-
ments that continue to define the conflict between the Israelis and the Palestinians.
These include the issue of Israeli settlements, Palestinian refugees, the occupation, bor-
ders and territory and Palestinian statehood. In addition, competing norms relating to
violence and self-determination and competing narratives relating to the character of
both the Israeli and Palestinian communities remain hotly contested.
Israeli Settlements
Settlement construction and expansion are perhaps the most inflammatory issues
defining this conflict. For many Palestinians, they represent the efforts to control
and divide the territory they hope will be the basis for a future Palestinian state. For
many Israelis, they represent the fulfilment of the goal of Israeli control, ensuring
Israeli security and an expression of the desire for control over the historic areas of
Judea and Samaria.
Under international law, the construction of settlements is considered illegal. For the
United Nations, this is based on an interpretation of the Fourth Protocol of the Geneva
Convention relating to the ‘Protection of Civilian Persons in Time of War’ and enshrined
in Security Council Resolution 465 of 1980. The resolution states, in Article 5, that:
all measures taken by Israel to change the physical character, demographic

composition, institutional structure or status of the Palestinian and other Arab
territories occupied since 1967, including Jerusalem, or any part thereof, have no
legal validity and that Israel’s policy and practices of settling parts of its popula-
tion and new immigrants in those territories constitute a flagrant violation of the
Fourth Geneva Convention relative to the Protection of Civilian Persons in Time of
War and also constitute a serious obstruction to achieving a comprehensive, just
and lasting peace in the Middle East.
Settlements are Jewish districts built on land occupied after the 1967 War, includ-
ing the formerly Jordanian-held territories in the West Bank and East Jerusalem;
Syrian-held territories in the Golan Heights; until 1982, Egyptian-held territories
in the Sinai Peninsula; and, until 2005, Egyptian-held territories in the Gaza Strip.
The construction and growth of these settlements is a critical part of the ongoing
conflict, particularly in terms of the issue of territoriality and the establishment of
a territorially contiguous state.
For the United Nations, and many within the international community, the con-
struction and maintenance of settlements are illegal. For the UN, this stems from
a view that settlements are an effort to change the physical and demographic char-
acter of the Occupied Territories, an act in contravention of the Fourth Geneva
Protocol. The Israeli position counters that this provision in the protocol relates to
their legal status, not physical status, and that the construction of settlements has
not affected final status negotiations.
In addition, there is greater ambiguity around the construction of settlements in
East Jerusalem and the rest of the West Bank. After the 1967 War, Israel extended
the municipal boundaries of East Jerusalem and formally annexed this area. As a
result, Israel considers this to be a separate issue to both the status of settlements as
well as broader negotiations relating to the rest of the West Bank territory.
According to the Israeli Information Centre for Human Rights in the Occupied
Territories (B`Tselem), Israel has constructed 125 ‘official’ settlements in the West
Bank as of 2013, with over 100 more ‘unofficial’ settlements or outposts. In addition,
there are 12 large settler communities in East Jerusalem alongside ‘settler enclaves’
in Palestinian neighbourhoods through East Jerusalem. These settlements, out-
posts, enclaves and other communities house an estimated 547,000 people. Israeli
government statistics put the number at 350,000. However, this does not include
the estimated 200,000 Israelis living in East Jerusalem, a territory annexed by Israel
but considered part of the broader occupied territory under international law. In
addition, the growth rate of the settler population is more than double that of the
non-settler Israeli population. Settlements range in size from around 50,000 people
such as Beitar Illit south of Jerusalem and 20,000 people in Maàle Adumin east
of Jerusalem to smaller communities. Indeed, the majority of the settlements in the
West Bank are small communities. In this regard, it is often argued that it is not the
size of the settlements but their strategic location that is most controversial, in that
they enable Israeli control over strategically important and agriculturally rich areas
of the territory.
The controversy over settlements has moved from one of new settlement con-
struction to the expansion of existing settlements. This relates to the provisions
of the various stages of the Peace Process that have sought to prohibit settlement
construction outside ‘natural growth’. This reflects the ambiguity of the provisions
of the Oslo Accords on this issue where there was no explicit reference to the pro-
hibition of settlement expansion. However, on the other hand, there was reference
to efforts to preserve the ‘integrity’ of the West Bank as a basis for a future, territo-
rially contiguous Palestinian state. Equally important in this regard are the issues
of access and mobility between the settlements and the connections between set-
tlements and pre-1967 Israel. Here, all the major arterial roads are controlled by
the IDF, with the broader infrastructure network throughout the West Bank being
connected to the broader system of IDF-controlled checkpoints.
In this way, Israeli settlements now form an indelible part of the demographic,
geographic and socioeconomic landscape of the West Bank. However, many
Palestinians, and indeed many Israelis, argue that there can be no final resolution to
the ongoing crisis without the withdrawal from some, if not all, of the settlements
across this territory. This has caused a major division within Israeli society. On the
one hand, there are those that argue that the abandonment of support for the settle-
ments puts at risk the security of Israel,
shows weakness in the face of Palestinian Israeli settlements
Areas restricted
aggression, or forfeits a final goal of or inaccessible

to Palestinians
Jenin
establishing permanent and official con-
trol over all of Mandate-era Palestine.
On the other hand, Palestinians argue WEST BANK
that settlements are designed to create Nablus

new ‘facts on the ground’, dispossess-
ing Palestinians of legally held land and
undermining the possibility of a viable
Palestinian state in the future. In addi- ISRAEL
tion, Israeli opponents of the settlements

argue that they also strip the Israeli state Ramallah
of valuable resources and create unneces-

sary tension and conflict. Jerusalem
Palestinian Refugees and the

Bethlehem
Right of Return
Dead
Sea
The issue of Palestinian refugees was Hebron
one of the earliest and most controver-

sial elements surrounding this conflict.
According to the UN Relief and Works
Agency for Palestine (UNRWA), the
main international body assigned to this Figure 5.1 Israeli settlement construction
issue, over 700,000 Palestinians left the in the West Bank up to 2010
Israeli Settlements and Palestinian Neighborhoods in East Jerusalem, 2000

Ramallah
Rafat Kufr
Akab
Kalandia Mukmas
Municipal limits ATAROT Al-Jaba

unilaterally extended (IND.)
Al-Jib
by Israel between Al-Ram
WEST
1967−1993 Bir
Nabala NEVE
BANK
Nabi YAÁCOV
Beit Samwil
Surik Beit Hizma
Hanina
Gre Biddu PISGAT
en RAMOT ZEÉV
Lin
e 194 Beit
9 Iksa Shu´fat
RAMAT Anata
Beit SHU´FAT FRENCH
Nakuba HILL
Kastal Issawiyya
Wadi Arab municipality
Kalunya
Lif ta
West Joz East under Jordanian
Deir Jerusalem At-Tur rule 1950−1967
Yassin Sheikh
Badr Ras
The Al-Amud
Ein Knesset Silwan Al-Izzariyya
Karim Thort
Abu Dis
Malha
ISRAEL TALPIOT Sawahreh
Beit
Safafa
Al-Walaja Sur PASSIA
Har Gilo HAR HOMA Baher
Bat tir GILO

HAR
HOMA Legend
Israeli settlements
0 5 km Bethlehem Palestinian neighborhoods
Figure 5.2 East Jerusalem, including municipal boundaries, settlements and major
population centres
newly created state of Israel between 1947 and 1948. These communities settled
largely in Jordan, as well as the territories to be occupied after 1967 (the West Bank
and the Gaza Strip), and in Syria and Lebanon, as well as across the region and
globally. There are an estimated 5 million descendants of this original community.
The status of this community and their rights continue to be a central feature in the
conflict and negotiations over a settlement.
One aspect of this controversy centres on the causes of the flight of Palestinians
during 1947–8. In simple terms, the Israeli government’s position has been to argue
that, by and large, the Palestinian population left of their own accord after ignoring
offers to stay and accept Israeli citizenship. Those that fled did so in response to
deliberate scare campaigns on the part of invading Arab governments. Alternatively,
the Palestinian position is one where the various Zionist groups of the then new
Israeli state forcibly expelled the Palestinians in line with the broader vision of
‘ethnically cleansing’ the former British Mandate. An alternative view to this is
presented by Israeli revisionist historians, such as Benny Morris, who have not dis-
counted the forced removal of Palestinians during 1947–8, but argue that it was
‘born of war, not by design, Jewish or Arab’ (Morris, 1987: 286). This is a perspective
that is not an echo of the official Arab stance. Indeed, for Morris, the Arab inva-
sions were the primary factor in sparking a broader crisis.
UNRWA has a mandate over ‘people whose normal place of residence was
Palestine between June 1946 and May 1948, who lost both their homes and means
of livelihood as a result of the 1948 Arab–Israeli Conflict’. Here, the activities of
the organisation are guided by United Nations General Assembly Resolution 194
of December 1948, that ‘refugees wishing to return to their homes and live at peace
with their neighbour should be permitted to at the earliest practicable date’ with the
choice of ‘returning to their homes now in Israel … or receiving compensation for
the lost property’. Thus, the controversy surrounding this issue stems not just from
the flight of Palestinians but also from a claimed ‘right of return’ and compensation.
Resolutions passed through the General Assembly that do not relate to the internal
workings of the organisation are considered non-binding on members.
Those passed through the Security Council can be both binding and non-binding
depending on the Chapter that it is issued under. Binding resolutions are passed under
Chapter VII, ‘Action with Respect to Threats to the Peace, Breaches of the Peace, and
Acts of Aggression’.
Chapter VII resolutions can also authorise the use of force against a member state.
Officially, the Israeli government position on the right of return refers back to
the stance of the Jewish Agency during the 1947–8 war and the tenets of United
Nations General Assembly Resolution 181 (the Partition Plan), as well as the Israeli
Declaration of Independence, which state that Arab inhabitants of the proposed
Jewish state would be entitled to full citizenship. However, this is conditioned by
the premise that those who left during the 1947–8 period are not entitled to this
citizenship. Therefore, there is no basis for accepting Palestinian refugees back into
Israel and recognising their claims for citizenship and, hence, evidence of land own-
ership prior to 1947–8 is void. In addition, Israel also discounts the provisions of
General Assembly Resolution 194 as it is a non-binding resolution.
Mahmoud Abbas, head of the Palestinian Authority (15 May 2010): ‘The return of the
Palestinian refugee to his or her home is a constant right that can never be debated
and a solution to the refugees issue would never be fair as long as it doesn’t include
all their historic rights.’
Benjamin Netanyahu, Prime Minister of Israel (28 June 2011): ‘The solution to the
refugee problem, both in a practical sense and in the question of justice has to be
addressed in the Palestinian state and not at the expense of the solitary, the one and
only Jewish state.’
Overlaying this is a view that the return of Palestinian refugees to Israel would destroy
the Jewish character of the state. According to the Israel Central Bureau of Statistics,
the country’s population was roughly 8.3 million at the end of 2014, with a 75%
Jewish population, 21% Arab population and 4% from other groups. With the Arab
community growing slightly faster (2.2% per annum) than the Jewish community
(1.7% per annum), the return of even a portion of the refugee population under the
UNRWA mandate could significantly alter the demographics of the country. In addi-
tion, the demand for compensation is countered by charges that should this be paid,
the Arab states should compen-
sate those Jewish communities
who were expelled across the Arab Land Classification according Oslo Agreement
world during 1947–8 for the loss N
Sea
of their property.
nean
There are a variety of ‘offi-
iterra
cial’ Arab views on this. The Arab
Med
League maintains a stance of
confrontation with Israel that
entails a refusal to grant citi-
zenship to Palestinian refugees
outside the Occupied Territories.
In this regard, Arab states, with
Jordan River
the exception of Jordan after 1950,
have avoided granting citizen-
ship to Palestinian refugees as a
means to keep this issue on the
global agenda, as well as maintain
their confrontational stance vis-à-
vis Israel. This is a position also
rooted in the unique legal posi-
Dead Sea
tion of the Palestinian refugees. Legend
The 1951 Refugee Convention ABC Area
did not include reference to the Area A

Area B
Palestinian refugee community Area C
0 5 10 20Kilometers
as Arab states sought to avoid

‘submerging Palestinian refugees
within the 1951 Convention’ as Figure 5.3 The division of the West Bank into
well as avoiding direct responsi- Areas A, B and C under the Oslo Accords: Area
A (18% of the West Bank) has full PA control;
bility for their welfare (Knudsen, Area B (21%) has PA civil and joint security
2009: 12). Thus, the rights of Pal control; Area C (61%) has Israeli civil and
estinian refugees are not covered security control
by the 1951 Convention, only by the provisions of the UNRWA mandate. Here,
the protections afforded refugees under the Convention do not cover Palestinian ref-
ugee communities, and even then Palestinian refugees must be resident in one of the
areas of operation of the UNRWA mandate (the Occupied Territories, Jordan, Syria
and Lebanon).
This legal ambiguity extends to the official Palestinian position, claiming the
right of return based on Article 13 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights
that states ‘everyone has the right to leave any country including his own, and
to return to his country’ as well as the tenets of Resolution 194. This is also not
without controversy, with the Israeli government claiming that this provision of
the Declaration of Human Rights applies only to those with citizenship of said
‘country’, therefore, the Palestinian communities who left during 1947–8 have no
binding claim.
The Occupation, Borders and Territory

The issue of territory and demographics extends through to the broader question
of territory and control. In particular, the possibility of the creation of a Palestinian
state on some or all of the territory occupied by Israel after 1967 (with the excep-
tion of the Golan Heights) is central here. Alongside the issue of settlements, this
is an issue that deals with Israeli military control, land appropriation, control over
resources (particularly water) and infrastructure, and Palestinian movement.
The ‘Two-State Solution’ is perhaps the central premise of negotiations, based
on the vision of the creation of a Palestinian state in the West Bank and the Gaza
Strip. It is based on the principles of General Assembly Resolution 181 (1947) for
the partition of the former British Mandate of Palestine. Whilst there was rejection
of this proposal by the Arab states, it did establish the principle of two independent
states within the territory as the default international position on the crisis. As with
any state, achievement of de jure independence requires a number of factors. The
two most important of these are recognition by the international community and
control over a clearly defined territory. This control requires clear, demarcated bor-
ders over which a state can extend its sovereignty. This principle was a core part of
the Oslo Negotiations as well as subsequent negotiations. At Oslo, agreement was
reached over a gradual transfer of authority from Israel to the Palestinian authority,
based on three areas (A, B and C).
However, this process received sharp criticism due to the division of the West
Bank into pockets of territory under direct PA authority, divided by areas still
under Israeli control. Here, allegations were made that Israel has a view of a future
Palestinian ‘entity’ that would be disarmed, only semi-independent and without ter-
ritorial contiguity (i.e. territory in contact or viable proximity). Here, Israel would
maintain control of the major arterial roads in the territory, incorporate major set-
tlements into Israel-proper, and prevent the Palestinian state or entity from sharing
a border with its neighbour Jordan. For Israelis supportive of this view, it is nec-
essary to prevent the Palestinian state emerging as a future security threat. For
Palestinians, it is an attempt to create a Palestinian community dependent on Israel
for its economic viability and security.
In addition to the aforementioned issues, there is also no consensus on the status
of East Jerusalem. As was mentioned previously, Israel had expanded the municipal
boundaries of the city and formally annexed the territory after the 1967 War. Here,
Israel claims both the western and eastern portions of the city as its formal capital,
a move not recognised by the majority of states in the international community.
The Palestinian desire is for the establishment of East Jerusalem as the capital of a
future Palestinian state.
In many ways, the struggle for control over East Jerusalem is a microcosm of the
entire conflict. The city holds a significant place for all communities in religious
and historic terms. Here, struggles for territory often come down to control over
residential neighbourhoods, controversies over housing demolitions and the legal
status of land ownership, as well as custodianship over the core of the Old City
of Jerusalem, the Temple Mount/Haram ash-Sharif. Official custodianship over
the Temple Mount/Haram ash-Sharif had been part of an Islamic waq f (religious
endowment) since 1187 ce, after the Muslim re-conquest of the city during the
Crusader period. After 1967, the Israeli government passed the ‘Preservation of the
Holy Places Law’ that preserved the waq f. Here, the IDF controls access to the site,
whilst PA representatives control security inside the site.
Perhaps the most contested piece of territory in Israel/Palestine is what the Israelis
call the Temple Mount (Harha Bayith) and the Palestinians call the Noble Sanctuary
(Haram ash-Sharif). It is a site of critical importance for Judaism and Islam.
In Jewish tradition, it is the site of creation and the historic centre of governance,
including the last remnants of the second Jewish Temple destroyed by the Romans in
70 ce. For Muslims, it is the site of the Prophet Muhammad’s ascension to heaven (Dome
of the Rock) and the al-Aqsa mosque, one of the oldest mosques in the world.
The Palestinian Declaration of Statehood

Along with a range of unilateral actions, including Sharon’s 2005 Gaza withdrawal,
there have been efforts by the Palestinians to circumvent stalled negotiations
through declarations of independence. The first of these came in 1988, with a proc-
lamation that included the designation of East Jerusalem as the capital of the state.
However, whilst this was adopted by the PA after 1993, it remained marginal to the
negotiations process. A new effort at a unilateral declaration of statehood came in

2011 in the wake of these failed negotiations. On 24 September 2011, the head of
the PA, Mahmoud Abbas, submitted a request for UN membership, based on the
1988 declaration with the 1967 borders, including East Jerusalem as its capital. In
response, the General Assembly passed resolution 67/19 in November 2012 that
granted the Palestinians ‘non-member observer state’ status. This allows Palestine,
along with the Vatican (Holy See) as the other non-member observer state, to par-
ticipate in UN committees and other activities. It also serves as a form of de facto
recognition by the General Assembly of statehood for the Palestinians.
By the end of 2015, 136 of the 193 member states of the UN had recognised
Palestine as an independent state. Whilst rejected by Israel as well as the most of
North America, Western Europe (including the UK, France and Germany) and a
number of other states (including Australia, New Zealand, and Japan), this move
had significant implications in that, should Palestine gain full UN membership, it
would redefine the conflict as an inter-state conflict, with potential repurcussions
for Israel in its occupation of territory.
ompeting Norms and Narratives of the

C
Israeli–Palestinian Conflict
Framing these specific issues are broader issues of norms and narratives that have
worked to perpetuate this conflict, hardening attitudes on both sides and ratio-
nalising the use of violence. This section will unpack these broad issues, framed
in terms of the competing concepts of Israeli self-defence versus Palestinian
self-determination as well as the evolving and contested nature of both Israeli and
Palestinian identity.
Whilst the discussion of norms may seem superficial, their influence on efforts
to end the Israeli–Palestinian conflict is important, with real-world impacts. In par-
ticular, the competing norms of self-determination on the part of the Palestinians
and self-defence on the part of the Israelis play a key role in the perpetuation of
violence, instability and mistrust (Rane, 2009: 41). That is, Palestinian claims for
independence and self-determination are used to validate various actions, whether
they be labelled as resistance to occupation, struggles for independence, or terror-
ism. On the other hand, Israeli claims for security and self-defence are also used to
justify actions that are variously understood as necessary protection of a community
from an existential threat, a sovereign right, violation of international law, or state-
sponsored terrorism.
In this way, one may say that these issues of ‘identity and insecurity’ are ‘mutually
reinforcing processes’ (Peleg, 2004: 11; Smith in Fawcett, 2009: 234). This section
will explore the issue of violence through this question of competing norms by
examining the actions of the highly controversial Palestinian organisation Hamas,
and the equally controversial Israeli programmes of the ‘security barrier’ and control
of Palestinian movement in the West Bank.
National Security and Political Violence

Israel’s security policy is, arguably, the central policy platform of successive gov-
ernments of all political persuasions. This revolves around a claim that Israel faces
unique, existential threats that require exceptional behaviour in terms of the main-
tenance of control over the West Bank, Gaza and the Golan Heights. Historically,
this had been focused on external threats, the idea that Israel was surrounded by
enemies seeking its destruction. Peace treaties with Egypt in 1978 and Jordan in
1994 and the collapse of political authority in Syria in 2011 have, to an extent,
undermined this position. The border with Lebanon remains a flash point for con-
frontation between Israel and Hezbollah, and the heated debates over Iran’s nuclear
capacity remain. However, focus since the late 1980s has been primarily on internal
security. Central to this discourse have been the activities of Hamas. Founded in
1987 as a branch of the Muslim Brotherhood, a core tenet of the movement is the
establishment of an Islamic state in all of the Mandate of Palestine. This goal is
enshrined in the 1988 Hamas Charter, a factor highlighted as evidence that this
organisation is focused on the destruction of the State of Israel. Indeed, the move-
ment continues to be classified as a terrorist organisation by Israel as well as the US,
the UK, the EU, Australia and many other states.
The movement rose to prominence during the first intifada before and through
the 1990s on the back of a range of violent activities. From 1993 to 2005, Hamas
instigated a campaign of the suicide bombing of civilian targets within Israel, result-
ing in hundreds of civilian deaths (see Table 5.1). In addition, it continues to carry
out rocket attacks on civilian targets from its stronghold in the Gaza Strip.
The Hamas presence in the Gaza Strip was magnified by two interrelated events.
The first of these was 2005 Gaza withdrawal. Alongside the evacuation of Israeli
settlements from the Strip, the plan also ensured Israel would maintain control over
access in and out of the territory (Levitt and Ross, 2006). Both of these actions
Table 5.1 Israeli–Palestinian casualties (UN/BBC/B` Tselem 2000–14 estimates)
Palestinian casualties* 9173

Israeli casualties 596 (321 IDF casualties, 275 civilian casualties)
*
There are no definitive figures separating Palestinian security forces and members of militant
groups from civilian casualty figures.
prompted dissent amongst the pro-settler lobbyists, who opposed any withdrawal,
and amongst pro-Palestinian lobbyists, who characterised the closure of Gaza’s bor-
ders as a form of mass imprisonment of the estimated 1.8 million people who live
within the 365 square-kilometre territory.
The second decisive event happened in 2006 when Hamas defeated the previ-
ously dominant Fatah faction for control over the Palestinian Legislative Council,
claiming 76 of the 132 seats in the Palestinian parliament. This led to a great deal
of consternation amongst the Palestinians and Israelis as well as within the interna-
tional community, as Hamas, who maintained a confrontational stance with Israel,
had now received a democratic mandate to govern through the PA. As a result, the
US led calls for Hamas to announce adherence to all previous negotiations between
the PA and Israel, including a renunciation of violence and recognition of Israel.
Hamas countered with an offer of a ceasefire coupled with an Israeli withdrawal
to the pre-1967 borders. This led to a stalemate and subsequent freeze on interna-
tional aid to the Palestinian Territories.
Hostilities between Hamas and Fatah erupted into open violence through
2007. The fighting left over 600 Palestinians dead and PA authority in disarray.
By the end of 2007, Palestinian political authority became split, with Fatah loyal-
ists fleeing Gaza and Hamas loyalists fleeing the West Bank, essentially creating
two Palestinian entities. For its part, Israel imposed a blockade of all air, sea and
ground movement into Gaza, maintaining control over the entry of monitored
humanitarian assistance. This led to heated debate both within Israel and inter-
nationally as to the worsening humanitarian situation in Gaza. Officially, Israel
maintained that it was no longer in occupation. However, UN Security Council
Resolution 1860 of January 2009, recalling the Fourth Geneva Convention
(Articles 55, 59 and 60), argued that Israel remained in occupation as it con-
trolled all access to the territory. Further, critics argued that Israel was in breach
of the Fourth Geneva Convention (Article 33) as the blockade of the territory
amounted to collective punishment of civilians.
Isolated within Gaza and split from Fatah, Hamas began a campaign of rocket
attacks into southern Israel, launching an estimated 9500 attacks from 2005 to
2008 leading to 14 Israeli civilian deaths. Alongside maintaining the block-
ade, Israel launched an estimated 14,500 artillery shells into Gaza, killing 59
Palestinian civilians and destroying significant parts of the densely populated area.
An Egyptian-negotiated attempt at a ceasefire in mid-2008 mitigated the violence
until November that year when an IDF incursion into Gaza sparked renewed fight-
ing. On 27 December this culminated in Israel launching ‘Operation Cast Lead’. A
massive air and naval bombardment of Gaza was followed by a ground invasion on
3 January 2009. The fighting lasted 23 days, when both parties agreed to a ceasefire
on 18 January. Hamas remained in control of Gaza, but the territory was devastated.
An estimated 1300 Palestinians were killed and over 5000 injured, with 13 Israeli
deaths and 80 injured. The use of highly combustible white phosphorus by the IDF,
including against the UNRWA headquarters in Gaza, alongside the destruction of
Gaza’s already fragile infrastructure, the high death toll and the ability of Hamas to
remain active in Gaza, led to severe criticisms of the operation.
After the conflict, a UN and Red Cross report stated that the situation in Gaza
represented a humanitarian crisis, with an estimated 80% of the 1.8 million people
in the territory dependant on humanitarian assistance. Health, education, sanita-
tion, food and water facilities were all but destroyed, with no viable safe havens
should conflict break out again. International criticism of Israel mounted, with
Israel’s former ally Turkey seeking to break the blockade in May 2010 when it
sent six civilian ships to the territory carrying humanitarian aid. Israel intercepted
the flotilla, leading to violent confrontations and the death of 10 Turkish activists.
For their part, Hamas and Israel exchanged accusations of war crimes, with Israel
arguing that the destruction in Gaza was a product of Hamas’ use of civilian facili-
ties for the launching of rockets and mortars endangering Israeli civilian lives, as
well as their continuing to use tunnels under Gaza’s border with Egypt to smug-
gle weapons. Despite this, Hamas made overtures to the US for a renewal of the
ceasefire, seeing attacks from Gaza decrease markedly through to 2012.
By 2012 signs of a rapprochement between Hamas and Fatah were evident when
they signed an agreement for a new national unity government, a move that was
coupled with efforts at the UN for an application for international recognition of
the Palestinian unilateral declaration of statehood. Efforts at a Fatah–Hamas rec-
onciliation gained momentum with the signing of an agreement in Gaza in April
2014 that led to the formation of a unity government across all the Palestinian ter-
ritories in June. Whilst the UN, US, EU and others recognised this government,
Israel refused due to the participation of Hamas. However, Hamas withdrew from
the government in November 2014, in the wake of renewed fighting with Israel,
leaving the governance institutions of the PA in a state of flux.
This fighting emanated from early 2014 when two Palestinian teenagers were
killed by the IDF in the West Bank. This was followed by the abduction of three
Israeli teenagers in the West Bank, with Israeli Prime Minister Netanyahu blaming
Hamas specifically, despite Hamas’ denials. The teenagers were later found dead
near the West Bank city of Hebron. By July, reciprocal attacks between the IDF and
Hamas broke the stalemate when Israel launched ‘Operation Protective Edge’ on 8
July. Over the course of the following eight weeks, over 2200 Palestinians (65–70%
civilians) were killed and 10,600 wounded, over 500,000 Palestinians were dis-
placed and in need of emergency assistance, over 7000 homes were destroyed, and
the remaining infrastructure in the territory was in ruins. Sixty-six Israeli soldiers
and six civilians were killed in the fighting with over 450 wounded and an estimated
SYRIA
LEBANON
Erez
JORDAN
Shati Camp BEIT
ISRAEL HANOUN
EGYPT GAZA
Proposed CITY
seaport
Mediterranean Karni
Sea GAZA
DEIR AL
BALAH
ISRAEL
KHAN YOUNIS
0 4 8 Km
Israeli buf fer zone

(up to 1 km deep)
EGYPT
RAFAH Palestinian built-up area
Crossing
Rafah Sufa
Airport (not in use) UN administered
Kerem Shalom refugee camp
Figure 5.4 The Gaza Strip
6000 temporarily displaced in towns adjacent to Gaza. As with the 2008–9 conflict,
Israel and Hamas exchanged accusations of violations of international law. Also, as
with the previous conflict, little changed on the ground, with Hamas still in control
of Gaza, Israel maintaining its blockade of the territory, and the citizens of Gaza
suffering through a new political and humanitarian crisis.
Checkpoints and the ‘Security Barrier’

This trend towards unilateral actions in the wake of the stalled Peace Process
continued in 2002 with the initiation of the construction of the Israeli ‘security
barrier’. The barrier policy was implemented by the Sharon government to guard
against the Palestinian suicide bombings that accompanied the al-Aqsa intifada.
However, the barrier has courted controversy where its construction and planned
route have deviated from the 1967 Green Line. Here, there have been allegations
that the barrier is being used as part of a ‘land grab’ policy, alongside settlements,
to create new facts on the ground in terms of territorial demarcations.
In this regard, the Israeli government frames the construction of the barrier strictly
in terms of the ‘fundamental right of self-defence’ in the protection of citizens inside
the 1967 borders as well as in East Jerusalem and the larger West Bank settlements.
Here, the Israeli government high-
Fragmentation of the West Bank
Barrier constructed by March 2007
lights the sharp decline in suicide
Barrier under construction in March 2007 attacks since the construction of
the wall, from 17 attacks between
Barrier planned route
Areas inaccessible to
April and December 2002 to five

Palestinians or subject
to restrictions
in all of 2003 (Israeli Ministry of

Checkpoints
Tunnel/underpass
Foreign Affairs, 2007). In addition,

WEST BANK the Israeli government has claimed
that the fence is a temporary meas-
ure, not a permanent fixture.
Nablus
For others, the barrier is a clear
example of an effort to concretise
Ariel Israeli territorial gains, particularly
in relation to the hotly contested
issue of East Jerusalem. In total,
JORDAN
roughly 12% of the West Bank

falls on the western, or Israeli, side
of the barrier, a move that includes
Jericho 60 settlements, including roughly
Maale
Adumin 380,000 settlers or 87% of the total
ISRAEL JERUSALEM
settler population,and encompasses
all of East Jerusalem, including the
settlements and Jewish communi-
ties there. In addition, the barrier
Dead Sea directly affects roughly 500,000
Palestinians, with a number of
communities now on the western
side of the barrier or either fully
10 km
or partially surrounded by the bar-
rier, cut off from other Palestinian
Figure 5.5 The ‘security barrier’, checkpoints territories. Consequently, it is also
and areas under IDF control throughout the alleged that the barrier works
West Bank alongside the series of checkpoints
and security stations in the West Bank. For instance, Palestinians on the west of
the barrier require permits to leave their communities, whilst those fully or partially
enclosed by the barrier have to pass through IDF-administered checkpoints.
These checkpoints are another highly controversial element of the occupation,
and again attract differing views. For the Israeli government, they are a key part of
ensuring security to monitor the movement of people in order to guarantee that
no potential attacker may pass into Israel proper or target Israeli settlements. In
contrast, it is argued that these checkpoints are a violation of Palestinian human
rights in terms of freedom of movement and transportation relating to the viability
of the economy in the Occupied Territories. In addition, many have argued that
the checkpoints, along with the security barrier and other features, are designed
for a permanent state of occupation rather than as temporary measures to support
general security.
Identity Politics in Israel

As discussed in Chapter 2, the State of Israel is the culmination of the Zionist
vision of rearticulating Jewish life on a national basis. As such, perhaps the central
premise of the Israeli stance on all elements of the ongoing conflict is the estab-
lishment, maintenance and preservation of Israel as a Jewish state. Here, there is
ambiguity around the relationship between Judaism and Israel in terms of how this
relates to citizenship, inclusion and the attitude towards the ongoing conflict with
the Palestinians.
This notion of Israel as a Jewish state differs from that of, for instance, the nature
of post-revolutionary Iran as an Islamic state. In particular, the structure of the
Israeli political system is one of a unicameral parliamentary democracy similar to
those found in many parts of the world. Unlike Iran, there is no explicit reference
to religion defining how political institutions are structured. However, the role of
Zionism as Israel’s founding principle is focused first and foremost on the role of
Israel as a homeland for the Jewish people. Whilst Israel has no formal constitution,
this position is expressed in the Declaration of Independence that opens with the
statement that ‘The Land of Israel was the birthplace of the Jewish people’ where
‘their spiritual, religious and political identity was shaped’.
Israel has no formal written constitution, but, like Britain and many other states, has
a constitutional framework based on a number of documents. These include the 1948
Declaration of Independence, the 1950 Law of Return and the 1952 World Zionist
Organisation Law.
In addition, this Jewish character would be strengthened with Israel being ‘open
for Jewish immigration’ as well as an ‘appeal to the Jewish people throughout the
diaspora to rally round the Jews of Eretz-Israel in the tasks of immigration and
upbuilding’ (State of Israel, 1948). Finally, the centrality of the Holocaust in the
narrative of the Israeli state is crucial, emphasising the need for a national home to
protect the community after the horrors of World War II.
In broad terms, the Jewish community can be divided between the Ashkenazi and
Sephardi communities. The Ashkenazi are Jewish communities from Europe (excluding
southern Europe), particularly those who migrated from Germany and Eastern Europe
from the 19th century.
The Sephardi are communities from southern Europe (Spain and Portugal), North
Africa and the Middle East. Those from North Africa and the Middle East are sometimes
referred to as Mizrahi Jews.
In Israel today, it is estimated that half of the population are descendants from the
Mizrahi communities and the other from Ashkenazi communities, particularly recent
migrants from Eastern Europe.
Controversies surrounding the relationship between Judaism and Jewish statehood

are reflective of similar tensions in other states in terms of reconciling temporal
or earthly sovereignty with divine sovereignty. Unlike Iran, for instance, where the
political system was shaped around particular conceptions of how religious authority
should be structured (vilayet-e-faqih), Israel has opted for a formal division between
the parliamentary system and areas of civil law where religious law is employed, a
response mirrored in many other societies across the Middle East such as Egypt,
Iraq and Turkey.
Whilst this is a critical question for Israel itself, it has also become a key feature
in negotiations with the Palestinians. Since 2011, Israeli Prime Minister Netanyahu
has focused on explicit recognition of Israel as a ‘Jewish state’ by both Fatah and
Hamas as a prerequisite for further negotiations. This has been criticised as under-
cutting the recognition of the state of Israel, without reference to the religious
element, made by Fatah and the broader PLO during the Oslo Negotiations in
1993. Further, critics argue that this position does not have a basis in any of the ear-
lier documents or positions on the conflict (Shlaim, 2011). For instance, the Balfour
Declaration and the Anglo-American Commission of Inquiry both argued for the
establishment of a Jewish homeland without explicit references to a Jewish state.
In addition, this question of the country’s Jewish character has become an
increasingly central question in Israeli political discourse, reflected in the increas-
ing representation of explicitly religious parties in the Israeli parliament. Since the
1970s, focus on the Jewish identity of Israel was led by the Likud Party, whose vic-
tory in the 1977 general election under Menachim Begin was a key turning point
in Israeli politics, leading to conservative Likud governments from 1977 to 1991,
1996 to 1999, 2001 to 2005 and then again from 2009. From this point, a number
of newer parties have emerged that have sought to frame Israel in terms of religious
identity. This is a problem since the founding documents of the State of Israel do
not classify the country as a religious state. Indeed, should this notion of an explic-
itly Jewish state be followed through, it raises questions over the status of both civil
versus religious law and of non-Jewish citizens in the country, as well as opening the
country to allegations that it is moving towards theocracy.
Moreover, the debate about the place of religion in Israel is unique in that it is
as much about demographics as it is about religious-political doctrine. This is not
to discount these important debates, particularly in terms of religious opinions on
statehood, refugees, the ongoing occupation and other matters. However, the ques-
tion of numbers, and what this means for the future of Israel as a Jewish state, is a
defining feature of the contemporary debate.
As is shown in Table 5.2, the Jewish population is a clear majority within the
pre-1967 borders of Israel. The growth of the Arab–Israeli population outpaces
that of the Jewish Israeli population by 0.5% per year, and is currently more than
20% of the population; this shift is gradual but consequential. In a parliamentary
system such as Israel, this has raised concerns over the growing proportion of Arab
voting power.
In addition, as mentioned above, there are questions over the notion of Jewish
identity in Israel itself. This is a question that often occurs in so-called settler socie-
ties, countries such as the US, Australia, Canada, New Zealand and others where
the majority of the population are migrants from across the globe who have arrived
relatively recently. In Israel, as Table 5.3 highlights, there is great diversity even
amongst the Jewish population. These divergent heritages, including differences
over notions of Jewish identity that relate to differing historic experiences, have
crystallised into political divisions between older and newer communities as well
as communities from different regions on the questions of the Peace Process, the
character of the State of Israel and other issues.
Palestinian Nationalism and Identity

Nationalist ideologies have formed a key part of Arab political discourse from the
20th century onwards. Whilst the influence of nationalist ideologies has waned in
recent decades, it remains a key part of Palestinian discourse. In particular, as out-
lined above, the key normative claim outlined by the Palestinian movement is that
of the right to self-determination.
Table 5.2 Israel and the Palestinian Territories population statistics (World Population
Review, Israel Bureau of Statistics, and Palestinian Central Bureau of Statistics 2014
estimates)
Population Totals
Israel: Total* 8,018,000

Jewish Citizens 6,042,000 (75.3%)
Palestinians (Arab–Israeli Citizens) 1,658,000 (20.7%)
Others 318,000 (4%)
Settlers: Total 771,000
Settlers: East Jerusalem 350,000
Settlers: West Bank 400,000
Settlers: Golan Heights 21,000
Palestinian Territories: Total** 4,875,267
West Bank** 2,862,485
East Jerusalem** 192,800
Gaza Strip** 1,819,982
Total (all territories) 13,664,267
Demographic Changes per Annum
Israel: Total* +1.9%

Jewish population +1.7% (non-Haredi: +1.2%; Haredi: +5%)
Arab population +2.2%
Settler population +4.9%
Palestinian Territories** +2.9%
West Bank (including East Jerusalem) +2.6%
Gaza Strip +3.4%
*
Not including post-1967 territories (West Bank and East Jerusalem, Gaza and the Golan Heights).
**
Not including the Israeli settler population.
Table 5.3 Regions of origin of Jewish migrants to Palestine/Israel 1882–2010
Region of Origin Total
1 Asia (including the Middle East and former Soviet Asian Republics) 3,620,586
2 Europe (including former Soviet European Republics) 2,217,632
3 Africa 540,507
4 Americas 203,073
5 Asia/Pacific 4,991
6 Unknown 5,746
Underlying this, however, is a persistent controversy over the conflicting narrative

of how identity relates to political claims. Specifically, debate rests on Palestinian
normative claims to self-determination in terms of the existence of a discernible
Palestinian national community prior to the establishment of the State of Israel.
However, defenders of Israeli sovereignty have often argued that Palestinian identity,
as separate from broader Arab identity, developed only in response to the founding
of Israel, and, as such, their claims to territory based on the British Mandate and
the notion of self-determination are not valid (Sayegh, 1998).
For Palestinians, this is a deeply controversial claim. All national identities are in
one way or another ‘constructed’. That is, there is nothing organic in one’s national
community; it is a constructed or invented community that requires a constant
re-establishment of how it is defined. This can be seen in the debates over the Jewish
character of the Israeli state outlined above. However, in terms of the Palestinians,
it has a deeper legal significance in that it challenges the very existence of the
community vis-à-vis their political claims.
Conclusion
A discussion of the key themes of the Peace Process helps illuminate the multi-
faceted and seemingly intransigent nature of this conflict. The lack of agreement on key
points of negotiation, from settlements to refugees to questions of territory, continues
to define relations between the parties. However, these positions are further polarised
through divergent norms and priorities, with the Israeli focus on self-defence and the
Palestinian focus on self-determination. In this regard, it is difficult to identify points
where the two parties are able to reach consensus for future negotiations. Here, the role
of the US is vital. Much maligned as the lead negotiator due to the complicated rela-
tions it has with both parties, the US remains indispensable to the settlement of this
dispute as it is the only party who commands the attention of both sides. However, it
remains to be seen how this will eventuate, particularly in light of the ongoing regional
security concerns and the rapidly changing political environment.
Study Questions
♦♦ What factors led to the initiation of the Israeli–Palestinian Peace Process in 1991?
♦♦ What were the different approaches to negotiating peace?
♦♦ What are the main issues under negotiation and how do the parties approach
these issues?
(Continued)
(Continued)
♦♦ What has been the role of external parties, particularly the United States, in
these negotiations?
♦♦ How have the issues surrounding competing norms of self-defence and self-
determination affected these negotiations?
♦♦ What are the bases for allegations and counter-allegations of the use of vio-
lence by both sides?
♦♦ What influence has identity politics had on the conflict?
Further Reading
Morris, Benny (2009) One State, Two Societies: Resolving the Israel/Palestine Conflict.
New Haven, CT: Yale University Press.
One of the two revisionist histories outlined here, perhaps the seminal work from
Morris in his review of the parameters of the Israeli–Palestinian conflict.
Pappé, Ilan (2006) The Israel/Palestine Question. London: Routledge.

The second revisionist account of the Israeli–Palestinian conflict, this volume reap-
praises Pappé’s views of the conflict in the wake of the al-Aqsa intifada.
Rabinovich, Itmar (2004) Waging Peace: Israel and the Arabs, 1948–2003. Princeton,
NJ: Princeton University Press.
This volume, from a former Israeli government negotiator, seeks to outline the
major forces that have affected the trajectory of the Peace Process, both internal and
external to the conflict itself.
Zertal, Idith and Eldar, Akiva (2007) Lords of the Land: The War over Israel’s
Settlements in the Occupied Territories, 1967–2007. New York: Nation Books.
A critical account of one of the key issues that have plagued the Peace Process, the issue
of settlements, allowing for a broader discussion of the controversies of this conflict.

References
Baxter, Kylie and Akbarzadeh, Shahram (2008) US Foreign Policy in the Middle
East: The Roots of Anti-Americanism. London: Routledge.
Fawcett, Louise (ed.) (2009) The International Relations of the Middle East. Oxford:
Israeli Ministry of Foreign Affairs (2007) ‘The Anti-Terrorist Fence vs. Terrorism’,
8 April; http://archive.li/twtYE
Knudsen, Are (2009) ‘Widening the Protection Gap: The “Politics of Citizenship”
for Palestinian Refugees in Lebanon, 1948–2008’, Journal of Refugee Studies,
22(1): 1–23.
Levitt, Matthew and Ross, Dennis (2006) Hamas: Politics, Charity, and Terrorism in
the Service of Jihad. Washington, DC: The Washington Institute for Near East
Policy.
Malley, Robert and Agha, Hussein (2001) ‘Camp David: The Tragedy of Errors’,
The New York Review of Books, 9 August.
Mearsheimer, John J. and Walt, Stephen (2007) The Israel Lobby and U.S. Foreign
Policy. New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux.
Milton-Edwards, Beverly (2009) The Israeli–Palestinian Conflict: A People’s War.
London: Routledge.
Morris, Benny (1987) The Birth of Israel: Myths and Realities. New York: Pantheon.
Peleg, Ilan (2004) ‘Jewish–Palestinian Relations in Israel: From Hegemony to
Equality?’, International Journal of Politics, Culture, and Society, 17(3): 415–37.
Quandt, William (2005) Peace Process: American Diplomacy and the Arab–Israeli
Conflict Since 1967. Washington, DC: Brookings Institution Press.
Rane, Halim (2009) Reconstructing Jihad amid Competing International Norms. New
York: Palgrave Macmillan.
Ross, Dennis and Grinstein, Gidi (2001) ‘Camp David: An Exchange’, The New
York Review of Books, 20 September.
Sayegh, Yezid (1998) Armed Struggle and the Search for State: The Palestinian National
Movement, 1949–1993. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Shlaim, Avi (2011) ‘Reflections on the Israeli–Palestinian Conflict’, Asian Affairs,
42(1): 1–13.
State of Israel (1948) ‘Declaration of Israel’s Independence 1948’, 14 May http://
stateofisrael.com/declaration/
6
Oil, Economy and
Development in the
Middle East
Learning Objectives
♦♦ The key economic dynamics in the Middle East.

♦♦ The relationship of the Middle East to the global economy.
♦♦ The structural weaknesses present within Middle Eastern economies.
♦♦ The role of oil in the economic dynamics of the Middle East.
♦♦ The impacts of economic liberalisation on both economic and political dynamics in
the region.
Introduction
It is impossible to separate political and economic issues in the Middle East. Indeed,
as Halliday has argued, the ‘one pervasive and ultimately “Middle East crisis” [is] in
inter- and intra-state political economy’ with the roots of this crisis lying in ‘the pattern
of incorporation into the world market in regard both to the economies themselves …
and also in the very pattern of formation of these modern states’ (2005: 267). That is,
regardless of the various political crises, all states across the region face critical eco-
nomic issues. These range from the relationship of regional economies with the global
economy to issues specific to each state. Overarching this are the impacts of oil on
regional political dynamics. These issues have had an immense impact on state and
social development. To elaborate on this, this chapter will explore key issues in the
region’s economic landscape. This discussion will outline an economic overview of the
Middle East, including highlighting the so-called structural weaknesses of the region’s
economies, covering both strictly economic measures as well as broader themes of
human development. From here, the discussion will move to a detailed examination of
the role of oil on regional economic dynamics. Finally, this chapter will explore efforts
at regional economic reform, particularly the discourse around economic liberalisation.
An Economic Overview of the Middle East

The economies of the Middle East present a mixed picture. Rapid economic develop-
ment in the Gulf continues alongside persistent economic stagnation in many other
states in the region. Where development based on oil revenues has spurred stunning
growth, there has also been economic development based on a range of service sec-
tors in other states such as Turkey, Tunisia and Israel. Despite this, unemployment,
inflation and corruption continue to undercut the economic potential of the region.
Consequently, where there has been significant economic development in the Middle
East in recent years, this has been combined with continued problems relating to
broader issues of standards of living and human security. This picture requires there-
fore greater detail to shed light on the structural weaknesses of the region’s economies.
These ‘structural weaknesses’ revolve around a number of issues, including the depen-
dency of the region’s economy on oil revenues, the ‘multi-track’ nature of the region’s
economies, and the influence of the informal economy, or black market, in the region.
Structural Weakness and Economies of the Middle East

The notion of structural weakness is contested. The debate centres on what one
focuses upon as signs of economic development, therefore dictating what one sees
Oil, Economy and Development in the Middle East 171
as an economic weakness. One sign of the structural weaknesses of the region’s

economies is the volatility of the Gross Domestic Product (GDP) of the region’s
states. This volatility is tied to the volatility of oil prices on the global market, show-
ing the dependency on oil revenues on the part of the region’s economies. As will
be discussed below, it is important to note here that the reliance on oil revenues, by
both oil-producing and non-oil-producing states, ties the region’s economy to the
volatility of oil price fluctuation. Here, there are myriad forces that affect the price
of oil, from global demand and supply dynamics, to security and geopolitical issues,
technological developments, labour issues, global regulatory mechanisms and envi-
ronmental concerns, amongst others.
It is this volatility that creates uncertainty within regional economies, mak-
ing them unattractive to potential investors. That is, the likelihood of investment
in regional projects is affected by the stability of the local economy and the per-
ceived benefits to be gained. An unstable environment often undercuts investment
momentum, preventing a diversification of regional economies and perpetuating a
cycle of further dependency on oil production over other sectors.
This dependency also has also bred a boom and bust cycle, with periods of rapid
economic growth at times when oil revenues are high (such as in the 1970s or in
the 2000s) and times of austerity when the price of oil drops (such as in the 1980s).
Both the volatility of this cycle and the extremes it produces create problems for
states and societies. In particular, economic planning becomes difficult when there
is no stability of revenue flows. In addition, an influx of funds can lead to states
using this to buttress often non-democratic means of rule, whilst struggling to
manage discontent in times of economic downturn. This volatility has many knock-
on effects within these societies, including in terms of unemployment, bureaucratic
and broader economic efficiency and social mobility.
Table 6.1 Regional population (2017 United Nations Department of Economic and
Social Affairs estimates)
Population* Population Population
1 Egypt 95,215,000 8 Saudi Arabia 32,743,000 15 Libya 6,409,000

2 Iran 80,946,000 9 Yemen 28,120,000 16 Lebanon 6,039,000
3 Turkey 80,418,000 10 Syria 18,907,000 17 Palestine 4,928,000
4 Sudan 42,166,000 11 Tunisia 11,495,000 18 Oman 4,741,000
5 Algeria 41,064,000 12 UAE 9,398,000 19 Kuwait 4,100,000
6 Iraq 38,654,000 13 Israel 8,412,000 20 Qatar 2,338,000
7 Morocco 35,241,000 14 Jordan 7,877,000 21 Bahrain 1,419,000
*
Total regional population (estimate): 560,630,000.
Table 6.2 Largest cities in the Middle East (2017 United Nations World Urbanization
Prospects estimates)
Population Global Ranking
1 Istanbul (Turkey) 14,160,467 7

2 Cairo (Egypt) 9,278,441 19
3 Tehran (Iran) 8,154,051 30
4 Baghdad (Iraq) 7,180,899 36
5 Riyadh (Saudi Arabia) 5,676,621 46
6 Alexandria (Egypt) 4,616,625 54
7 Ankara (Turkey) 4,470,800 56
8 Giza (Egypt) 4,239,988 63
9 Jeddah (Saudi Arabia) 3,456,259 75
10 Casablanca (Morocco) 3,359,818 79
As a result, most economies in the region are structurally weak. In particular,

they are largely import-oriented and service-based, particularly after the privatisa-
tion and subsequent closure of many local industries. This is compounded by the
types of services in many regional states that ‘fall at the low end of the value chain,
contribute little to local knowledge development, and lock countries into inferior
positions in global markets. This trend, which has been at the expense of Arab agri-
culture, manufacturing and industrial production, is therefore of concern’ (AHDR,
2009: 103). The consequence of this has seen Arab states less industrialised in 2007
than they were in 1970. Indeed, the only countries that increased their manufac-
turing sectors between 1970 and 2007 were, with the exceptions of Morocco and
Tunisia, oil-producing states.
Multi-Track Economies
Whilst recognising these broad trends, there are various economic trends across the
region. This can be illustrated by a variety of metrics, including GDP per capita
(Table 6.3), unemployment rates (Table 6.4), inflation rates (Table 6.5) and poverty
rates. Table 6.3 highlights the variation in GDP per capita rates, from a high of
$129,727 in Qatar to a low of $2521 in Yemen. This table also shows a cluster of
oil-producing states with lower populations and Israel at the top of the table fol-
lowed by states with larger populations and fewer or no oil resources.
Unemployment figures roughly correspond to the GDP per capita rankings.
The figures presented here are the ‘official’ rates, and therefore mask higher levels
Table 6.3 GDP per capita (2016 International Monetary Fund estimates, Int $)
GDP Per GDP Per GDP Per

Capita Capita Capita
1 Qatar 129,727 8 Turkey 21,147 15 Tunisia 11,657

2 Kuwait 71,267 9 Lebanon 18,524 16 Jordan 11,125
3 UAE 67,696 10 Iran 18,136 17 Morocco 8,360
4 Saudi 54,078 11 Iraq 16,544 18 Sudan 4,452
Arabia
5 Bahrain 50,303 12 Algeria 14,950 19 Palestine 2,782
6 Oman 43,737 13 Libya 14,236 20 Yemen 2,521
7 Israel 34,834 14 Egypt 12,137 21 Syria No data
Table 6.4 Unemployment rates (2016 International Labour Organization estimates)
Unemployment Unemployment Unemployment
1 Qatar 0.2% 8 Morocco 10.0% 15 Tunisia 14.8%

2 Bahrain 1.3% 9 Turkey 10.3% 16 Iraq 16.0%
3 Kuwait 2.4% 10 Algeria 11.2% 17 Yemen 17.1%
4 UAE 3.7% 11 Iran 11.3% 18 Oman 17.5%
5 Saudi Arabia 5.5% 12 Egypt 12.0% 19 Libya 19.2%
6 Israel 5.6% 13 Jordan 13.2% 20 Palestine 24.9%
7 Lebanon 6.8% 14 Sudan 13.3% 21 Syria No data
of unemployment as well as underemployment. For instance, Bahrain’s declared

unemployment rate of 1.3% in 2016 almost certainly masks a much higher unof-
ficial jobless rate. Similarly, the stated unemployment rate of 6.8% in Lebanon
does not include the over 1 million refugees in the country, all of whom are pre-
vented from official employment. In addition, the correlation with oil-producing
states reflects the ability of these states to use oil revenues to provide employment
for nationals. In this regard, whilst there are low unemployment figures for oil-
producing states, this also reflects a broader issue where the use of oil revenues to
keep nationals employed leads to potential bureaucratic inefficiency.
Inflation is a critical measure of economic stability. When compared with the
above tables, a slightly different picture emerges. Many of the states who were
lower on the GDP per capita ranking in the region have lower levels of infla-
tion. For instance, where Morocco ranks low on the regional GDP score, it is
able to maintain a low level of inflation, helping to offset potential unrest that
often stems from low wages combined with rapidly rising prices on basic goods.
By contrast, higher inflation rates affect oil-producing states such as Kuwait as

well as non-oil-producing states such as Jordan.
Whilst official figures on poverty are also questionable with regard to their
accuracy, they present another mixed picture. According to the World Bank, the
global average of people living on less than US$1.25 per day was 22.4% by 2010,
close to the regional average of 22%. Again, there is a mixed picture in terms of the
economic make-up of the states – large oil producers, such as Kuwait and Qatar,
have negligible poverty rates, and there are also lower poverty rates in non-oil pro-
ducers Tunisia and Syria. In addition, oil producers such as Saudi Arabia, Algeria
and Bahrain have mid-level poverty rates, a factor that can be accounted for by
larger populations in these states.
An additional measure of economic performance is the Global Competitive Index
(GCI) developed by the World Economic Forum. Published since 1979, the GCI
has developed a metric of economic performance based on 12 ‘pillars’: institution,
infrastructure, macroeconomic environment, health and primary education, higher
education and training, goods market efficiency, labour market efficiency, financial
market efficiency, technological readiness, market size, business sophistication, and
innovation. This is an effort to focus on specific economic measures and the ‘ability
of countries to provide high levels of prosperity to their citizens’ (World Economic
Forum, 2011: 9).
Here, there is a clear correlation between oil production and economic perfor-
mance. Qatar, Saudi Arabia, the UAE, Oman, Kuwait and Bahrain are all high on the
GCI, alongside economies with strong service sectors in Israel, Tunisia and Turkey.
In addition, most of the region’s states are in the top half of the world’s rankings,
indicating that the states of the Middle East are in a reasonably strong position in
terms of global economic competitiveness. However, there are a number of states,
particularly those with relatively large populations, who are vulnerable to fluctuations
in the regional and global economy. Indeed, those states who rank low on this list, or
those where data are lacking, have suffered from the global financial crisis since 2007.
Table 6.5 Inflation rates (2016 OECD estimates)
Inflation Inflation Inflation
1 Palestine -1.1% 8 Bahrain 2.3% 15 Iran 9.2%

2 Iraq -1.0% 9 Jordan 2.5% 16 Turkey 9.2%
3 Israel -0.2% 10 UAE 2.6% 17 Yemen 9.5%
4 Saudi Arabia 1.7% 11 Lebanon 3.1% 18 Egypt 28.1%
5 Morocco 1.8% 12 Kuwait 3.5% 19 Libya 29.4%
6 Oman 1.8% 13 Tunisia 4.6% 20 Sudan 30.4%
7 Qatar 1.8% 14 Algeria 6.9% 21 Syria 51.3%
Table 6.6 Global Competitive Index* (2016)
Rank** Score*** Rank Score Rank Score
1 UAE 16 5.3 8 Jordan 63 4.3 15 Egypt 115 3.7

2 Qatar 18 5.2 9 Oman 66 4.3 16 Libya 126 3.48
3 Israel 24 5.2 10 Morocco 70 4.2 17 Yemen 138 2.7
4 Saudi Arabia 29 4.8 11 Iran 76 4.1 18 Iraq n/a n/a
5 Kuwait 38 4.5 12 Algeria 87 4.0 19 Palestine n/a n/a
6 Bahrain 48 4.5 13 Tunisia 95 3.9 20 Sudan n/a n/a
7 Turkey 55 4.4 14 Lebanon 101 3.8 21 Syria n/a n/a
*
The Global Competitive Index is used by the World Economic Forum in their annual Global
Competitiveness Reports. It is a set of rankings for countries measuring institutions, policies
and factors that assess a country’s likelihood for short- and medium-term economic prosperity.
**
Rank: out of 138 states.
***
Score: out of 7, with 1 the least competitive and 7 the most competitive.
These basic figures provide a mixed picture of the economic landscape across the
Middle East. Some consistencies are present, particularly the correlation between
oil production and high GDP. These per capita levels are obviously mitigated by
the size of the population in particular oil-producing countries. In addition, Yemen
and, to a lesser extent, the Palestinian Territories have consistently low scores on
many indicators. However, beyond this there is greater variation in these indicators
where oil revenues, for instance, have not offset high levels of poverty in states such
as Libya and Oman. One factor that may account for this variation is the presence
of conflict.
The links between conflict and economic turmoil are multifaceted. Apart from
the tragedy of death and destruction during war, the ongoing violence and the
destruction of infrastructure are among the many ways war, be it internal or inter-
state, can undermine economic performance. This is borne out by these figures,
where the importance of conflict and stability on economic performance becomes
increasingly apparent. The instability associated with protracted violent conflict as
has occurred in states such as Syria, Iraq, Sudan, Palestine and Yemen in recent
years has undercut confidence in investment and stability in prices for basic food
stuffs, with follow-on issues for economic viability.
The Formal and Informal Economy

The economies of the Middle East share another characteristic with other regions,
that of an informal economy. The informal economy is often referred to in terms of
the ‘black market’; however, this neglects the full picture. The black market focuses
on activity outside government control in terms of taxation and regulation whilst
the informal economy includes this as well as the so-called ‘grey economy’ that
uses government networks and channels outside taxation and regulation. Here, the
informal economy has always been a part of the region’s landscape. The weakness of
state institutions partly explains this, with many states being unable to regulate all
activities within their borders. However, this very weakness also facilitates the use
of these networks by state officials themselves for their own benefit (i.e. through
bribery and corruption).
Informal economies across the Middle East develop due to a range of factors,
such as excessive labour market regulations, a lack of state capacity to manage and
regulate employment, and high taxes on manufactured goods. The informal activi-
ties involved range across areas such as smuggling, trade in illegal goods, bribery and
other criminal activities. However, the vast bulk of activity in this sector revolves
around unregulated employment, the sale of legal goods outside state regulation
and the provision of services. According to the World Bank, the informal sector
may be understood in terms of two types of activities: first, ‘coping strategies’ or ‘sur-
vival activities’ such as casual employment and subsistence agriculture, and second,
‘unofficial earning strategies’ such as tax evasion, avoidance of government regula-
tion and underground and criminal activities.
A critical part of the functioning of many Middle Eastern economies, particularly oil-rich
Gulf States as well as Lebanon and Jordan, are migrant workers. Whilst there is a large
expatriate population in the Gulf, this is regulated through the working visa system in
these states. Outside of this, many regional states operate a sponsorship, or kafala,
system. Here, migrant workers gain access to employment in host states only through
obtaining a sponsor (kafala) who assumes responsibility for these people once they
arrive. Concentrated in the lowest paying jobs, such as domestic work, construction,
sanitation and the like, the kafala system has been the subject of intense criticism as the
equivalent of slave labour in many regional states, particularly in the Gulf Cooperation
Council (GCC) states (Bahrain, Kuwait, Oman, Qatar, Saudi Arabia and the UAE) where
the passports of workers are often confiscated and their movement and other freedoms
are severely curtailed.
The kafala system has been essential to the rapid economic development of these
states, allowing them access to a cheap and controlled workforce. Whilst it is difficult
to obtain an accurate figure, with many employed outside official regulation, it is esti-
mated that those in the kafala system make up around 45% of the total workforce in
these states. This is more concentrated in states such as Qatar and the UAE where it
is estimated that they constitute close to 80% of the total population.
It is estimated that two-thirds of the total worker population are male, largely
employed in construction, factory labour and the commercial service industry, whilst
women are concentrated in domestic service, with a smaller number working in the
commercial service sector. It is also alleged that there has been a sizeable growth in
prostitution in the GCC states, with many undocumented migrant workers.
Estimates of the size of the informal sector vary from country to country across the
Middle East. For instance, according to the International Labour Organization, the
largest informal sectors in the world are in Bolivia (67.3% of the total economy)
and Georgia (65.9% of the total economy). Here, the informal sectors in the states
of the Middle East with the exception of the Palestinian Territories are not as large
as these, or other large informal sectors such as those in Thailand (53.3%), Chad
(48%) or the Philippines (44.8%). Indeed, many of the region’s states are close to the
average of other states such as Vietnam (15.8%), Chile (20.1%) and India (23.9%).
However, this is slightly above the rates in the United States (8.7%), Japan (11.2%)
and Australia (14.7%).
Therefore, the informal sector is a critical part of most, if not all, regional econo-
mies but also one that is not larger, if not lower, than any other comparable regions.
As shall be discussed below, international financial institutions such as the World
Bank and International Monetary Fund (IMF) actively seek to pressure govern-
ments into shutting down the activities of the informal economy, particularly in
terms of its role in depriving the state of tax revenue. However, such pressures con-
front a variety of impediments including the lack of government capacity as well as
the active involvement of governments themselves in the informal sector. In addi-
tion, efforts to regulate the activities of the informal economy can have detrimental
effects for the many citizens who rely on this sector for their livelihood.
Aside from the clear benefits of the informal sector for many across the region,
there are also downsides. In particular, workers within the informal sector operate
outside the regulation and protection offered by legal systems and international
organisations such as the International Labour Organization. In addition, the
measures of the informal sector also include government corruption, a factor that
has been critical in feeding into the ability of regimes to perpetuate undemo-
cratic rule as well as the discontent behind the uprisings that engulfed the region
from 2010.
Transparency International’s Corruption Perceptions Index highlights the trou-
bling trend of corruption in the region (see Table 6.7). Here, 11 of the 21 regional
states are in the top half of states globally, with only four out of 21 regional states
scoring higher than 5 out of 10 on the index. These figures are important to under-
standing how this particular structural weakness, alongside the persistence of
political instability and conflict, as well as regional inequalities, greatly affect the
economic functionality of the region.
Alternative Economic Measurements and the Middle East

Whilst the above picture paints a reasonably clear picture of the regional economy,
there are other ways of measuring economic development. The conventional measures
Table 6.7 Corruption Perceptions Index* (Transparency International 2016 estimates)
1 UAE 24 66 8 Turkey 75 41 15 Lebanon 136 28

2 Israel 28 64 9 Kuwait 75 41 16 Iraq 166 17
3 Qatar 31 61 10 Tunisia 75 41 17 Libya 170 14
4 Jordan 57 48 11 Morocco 90 37 18 Sudan 170 14
5 Saudi 62 46 12 Algeria 108 34 19 Yemen 170 14
Arabia
6 Oman 64 45 13 Egypt 108 34 20 Syria 173 13
7 Bahrain 70 43 14 Iran 131 29 21 Palestine No data No data
*
The index, developed by Transparency International, is based on the perceived corruption
of a country’s public sector.
**
***
Score: out of 100, with 0/100 as most corrupt and 100/100 as least corrupt.
of focusing on factors such as Gross Domestic Product (GDP) and Gross National
Product (GNP) as well as data such as life expectancy, trade figures, income and
other factors can be supplemented by new measures. These new measures have
grown out of criticisms of particular models of development that have been seen as
representative of an imposition of a neoliberal model of development with economic
growth as the central factor. However, more recent understandings of development
seek to focus on the welfare of humans within this system.
The Human Development Index and the Millennium

Development Goals
This has been represented in a shift in focus on the part of international organi-
sations towards alternative models of understanding economic development. The
most prominent examples of this are the Human Development Index (HDI) and
the Millennium Development Goals (MDG). The United Nations have been
central here, particularly the United Nations Development Programme (UNDP),
which produces reports measuring states according to the HDI in their annual
Human Development Reports (HDRs). The HDI and HDRs employ a model of
understanding of development first articulated by Harvard Professor and Nobel
Laureate in Economics, Amartya Sen.
The original 1990 Human Development Report outlined how ‘technical con-
siderations of the means to achieve human development – and the use of statistical
aggregates to measure national income and its growth – have at times obscured
the fact that the primary objective of development is to benefit people’ (UNDP,
1990: 9). As a result, new metrics should seek to include figures on ‘better nutrition
and health, greater access to knowledge, more secure livelihoods, better working
conditions, security against crime and physical violence, satisfying leisure hours,
and a sense of participating in the economic, cultural and political activities of these
communities’ (UNDP, 1990: 9). As such, the HDI was developed to try to meas-
ure the ability of people to make choices and have opportunities in all aspects of
life. This broadens out from measuring income towards other key indicators (what
the UNDP defines as key dimensions) such as life expectancy (health), knowledge
(education) and living standards (income).
This resulted in the development of metrics used by other groups, such as
Freedom House, to measure and quantify standards relating to health, education
and the standard of living to gauge new notions of ‘development’ outside previous
emphases on, for instance, GDP or levels of debt. From this, countries are given a
score of between 0 (lowest) and 1 (highest) on the HDI, then ranked out of 187
states’ measures. As with the statistics outlined in the previous section, there are a
variety of conclusions that can be drawn from the HDI statistics in the Middle East.
For instance, the states of the Middle East sit across the spectrum of rankings,
with a number achieving what the UNDP refers to as ‘very high human develop-
ment’ through to ‘low human development’. The presence of oil revenues is a partial
indicator of development here, with the UAE, Saudi Arabia, Bahrain and Kuwait
Table 6.8 Human Development Index* (UNDP 2016 rankings)
1 Israel 18 0.894 8 Lebanon 67 0.769 15 Palestine 107 0.686

2 Qatar 32 0.850 9 Iran 69 0.766 16 Egypt 108 0.690
3 Saudi 39 0.837 10 Turkey 72 0.761 17 Iraq 121 0.654
Arabia
4 UAE 41 0.835 11 Jordan 80 0.748 18 Morocco 126 0.628
5 Bahrain 45 0.824 12 Algeria 83 0.736 19 Syria 134 0.594
6 Kuwait 48 0.816 13 Libya 94 0.724 20 Yemen 160 0.498
7 Oman 52 0.793 14 Tunisia 96 0.721 21 Sudan 167 0.479
*
The index, developed by the United Nations Development Programme, is based on three
‘dimensions’ (health, education and living standards) and four ‘indicators’ (life expectancy
at birth, mean years of schooling, expected years of schooling and gross national income
per capita).
**
***
Score: out of 1.000, with 1 the highest and 0.000 the lowest.
Table 6.9 Human Development Rankings (2011)
Very High Human High Human Medium Human Low Human

Development Development Development Development
(1.000–0.800) (0.799–0.700) (0.699–0.550) (0.550–0.000)
Israel (18) Oman (56) Palestine (107) Yemen (160)

Qatar (32) Lebanon (66) Egypt (108) Sudan (167)
Saudi Arabia (39) Iran (69) Iraq (121)
UAE (41) Turkey (72) Morocco (126)
Bahrain (45) Jordan (80) Syria (134)
Kuwait (48) Algeria (83)
Libya (94)
Tunisia (96)
scoring ‘very high’ and Libya, Iran, Algeria and Oman scoring ‘high’, there are also
oil-producing states scoring ‘medium’ (Iraq) and as ‘low’ (Sudan). Again, this does
not paint the entire picture, with many regional states clustered at the lower end of
the HDI. In addition, and as outlined below, this also illustrates problems with the
HDI in that regional states towards the top of the list have been able to offset the
lack of democratic freedoms in these states.
The United Nations Millennium

Declaration, 18 September 2000
We consider certain fundamental values to be essential to international relations in
the twenty-first century. These include: freedom …, equality …, solidarity …, toler-
ance …, respect for nature …, shared responsibility …. In order to translate these
shared values into actions, we have identified key objectives to which we assign
special significance: peace, security and disarmament …, development and poverty
eradication …, protecting our common environment …, human rights, democracy
and good governance …, protecting the vulnerable …, meeting the special needs of
Africa …, strengthening the United Nations …
Another attempt to calibrate measures of economic development can be seen in

the Millennium Development Goals (MDGs), delivered by the United Nations
in September 2000. The MDGs were an effort by the UN member states (all of
whom endorsed General Assembly Resolution A/RES/55/2) and 23 international

organisations to codify a set of development goals around eight priority areas to
be achieved by 2015: eradicating extreme poverty and hunger; achieving universal
primary education; promoting gender equality and empowering women; reducing
child mortality rates; improving maternal health; combating HIV/AIDS, malaria
and other diseases; ensuring environmental sustainability; and developing a global
partnership for development.
In terms of regional statistics, the relationship between the MDGs and
the Middle East paints another varied picture (see Table 6.10). For instance,
poverty rates in the region have risen across the region over the past 15 years.
And whilst no update report on progress toward these goals has been published
since 2013, it is highly likely that most states are still far from these targets.
This is a situation that has been compounded by the turmoil associated with
the global financial crisis as well as the ramifications of the volatility associated
with the ‘Arab Spring’. However, this can be contrasted with the progress made
on other indicators, such as efforts to expand primary education as well as the
reduction of child mortality. Here, the region as a whole will come close to the
forecast targets.
What these figures again indicate is a varied regional economic picture. In tra-
ditional economic terms, the region is again going through a period of intense
turmoil, due in part to the fragility of the region’s economic and political structures,
the general fragility of the global economy, and the momentous political changes
that have been sweeping the region since 2010. This varies across the states of the
region, with solid economic growth, for instance, in Turkey and Morocco offset by
the stagnation of economic development in Yemen and Iran. When this under-
standing of development is broadened out to include other factors, the future looks
somewhat brighter, with improvements in the levels of education and health stand-
ards across the region. However, combined with the persistence of closed political
systems and wealth inequality, both within states and across the region, develop-
ment of the economies of the Middle East will continue to be a defining feature in
regional politics for decades to come.
Table 6.10 Selected Millennium Development Goal targets
Goal 1995 level 2010 level 2015 target
Eradicating extreme poverty and hunger 3.5% 4.5% 1.5%

Achieving universal primary education 84.5% 91.0% 100.0%
Reducing child mortality rates 73 per 1000 32 per 1000 28 per 1000
The Politics of Oil

Views of the Middle East are most often seen, rightly or wrongly, in terms of the
most definitive feature of the region’s economic landscape, oil. Either directly or
indirectly, oil is the central element of the economies of the Middle East, whether
this is through a state’s production of oil, the use of oil revenue for economic assis-
tance, or the ramifications of oil price fluctuations for the region’s economy (see
Figure 6.1). In addition, the importance of oil to the global economy is a key factor
shaping the way external powers have engaged with the states of the Middle East.
Consequently, the ‘politics of oil’ is as much about the logistics of extraction and
production as it is about the power dynamics involved in controlling this most valu-
able of resources. Therefore, the politics of oil is a deeply controversial element in
regional affairs. The impacts of oil on the region’s economy are mixed. As stated by
R KAZAKHSTAN
Rostov RUSSIA
Astrakhan
R Krasnodar R
R
R
Black Grozny
Sea
GEORGIA Caspian
Tibiai Sea
AZERBALJAN
ARUENIA
Erivian
Bakru R TURKMENISTAN
Erzurum
TURKEY
R
Latakia Tehran
R SYRIA R R
R IRAQ
Beirut R R
R Damascus Baghdod IRAN
Amman
R
R R R
Jerusalem
JORDAN
All Jawf KUWAIT
Al Agabah R
Tabuk
SAUDI R
R Persian
ARABIA BAHRAIN
Gulf
OMAN
CATAR R R Gulf of
R Riyadh
R Oman
Red Sea
THE OIL CORRIDOR U.A.E Muscat
R Oil or gas field Su
Jiddah
Macca
R Refinery OMAN
Figure 6.1 Major oil fields in the Persian Gulf region

Source: Online Opinion
the 2002 Arab Human Development Report, the Arab world is seen as ‘richer than
it is developed’ (AHDR, 2002: 7), a statement designed to highlight the ‘disjunc-
tion between the region’s material wealth and its real levels of human development’
(AHDR, 2009: 99).
The Establishment of the Oil Economy in the Middle East

Oil was first discovered in Iran in 1908, an event that immediately gained the atten-
tion of the major European powers and culminated in a confrontation between the
British, Germans and Ottomans for control of the new oil pipeline at the outbreak
of World War I (Owen, 2008: 1). This was followed by the discovery of oil in 1927
around the city of Kirkuk in the then British Mandate of Iraq. Production on new
discoveries began in Bahrain in 1932, in Saudi Arabia in 1938 and in the Persian
Gulf by the early 1940s. This saw the Middle East become a focus of the great
powers on the eve of World War II (Halliday, 2005: 270).
The timing of the discovery of oil was important as it came at the same time
as the formation of the state system in the region. As such, there was a ‘symbi-
otic relationship’ between the state system and the oil economy in the region ‘that
makes it virtually impossible to imagine one without the other’ (Owen, 2008: 3).
Therefore, in the oil-producing states, particularly the weaker, smaller states of the
Gulf, domestic politics came to revolve almost exclusively around the generation
and distribution of oil revenues rather than a diversified economy with a reliable
and consistent source of tax revenue (Luciani, 1990: 65).
An estimated 35 million people live in the states of the Gulf Cooperation Council
(Bahrain, Kuwait, Oman, Qatar, Saudi Arabia and the UAE). Of these, around 13 million
(37%) are foreign-born workers and their families.
This is a demographic that varies from state to state in terms of proportions (with
the largest number in the UAE, where an estimated 85% of the population are foreign-
born) as well as origins (a larger proportion of Arab workers, particularly Yemenis and
Palestinians, in Saudi Arabia and Kuwait, as opposed to South Asians in the UAE).
Oil income not only underwrites the economies of oil-producing states, the
follow-on effects have ramifications for the entire region as well as for the global
economy. Oil producers therefore operate within the context of global pressures (i.e.
supply and demand), particularly in terms of meeting global demand with stable
supply. It is within these parameters that oil producers make oil policy. As such, oil
prices are affected by the policies of oil producers but also by global demand, oil
speculation, global stability and other factors.
The ‘Resources Curse’

Whilst the abundance of the world’s most valuable resource would seem like a boon
for any state, there is also a downside, often understood as the ‘resources curse’.
The wealth generated by oil revenues has enabled many states to buttress non-
democratic forms of rule through the rentier state. In addition to the political
impacts of oil revenues, there has also been ‘an uneven and unsatisfactory process
of economic development’ (Owen, 2008: 2). For Mahdavy, the resources curse
essentially revolves around the ability of states to rapidly fund development and
industrialisation; however, this is mitigated by the drive for political reform (1970:
428). In addition, this development is often carried out without proper planning or
in ways that are appropriate to the local context.
There is also an intra-regional dynamic to the resources curse whereby those
in the non-oil-producing states have become increasingly resentful of their rich
regional neighbours. Here, this is illustrated in the stark differences in the GDP
from state to state, a situation that is illustrated clearly in the differences in per
capita GDP (see Table 6.3).
Whilst the resources curse, or more generally the rentier dynamic, is a useful
analytical tool for understanding the dynamics of oil economies, it does mask a level
of complexity. For instance, Abu Dhabi and Dubai, the largest of the two Emirates
in the UAE, have managed to develop reasonably diversified economies since the
1970s, including transport, tourism, investment, real estate and other service sectors
outside oil production. However, the ability of the UAE government to provide
the infrastructure for this diversification was initially provided by oil resources. It
has also led to the UAE government, along with those in Qatar, Saudi Arabia and
elsewhere, to maintain closed political systems as well as exclude the large migrant
worker populations in these states from gaining citizenship.
The West and Middle East Oil

After the British–German–Ottoman confrontation in Iran on the outbreak of
World War I, Britain became the dominant player in the exploitation of oil sup-
plies in the Middle East. The British colonial presence in the Gulf, established as a
security and trade measure vis-à-vis their colonial holdings in India, allowed them
to exploit newly discovered deposits in Iran, then the Gulf. British power was built
on a series of treaties established between 1820 and 1899 and a 1915 security treaty
with the Saudi dynasty, whilst also dictating the formal political borders between
Saudi Arabia, Iraq and Kuwait with the 1922 Treaty of al-Àqeer (Potter, 2008).
Through this treaty, the British enabled the Saudis to extend their authority over
the peninsula by 1927. However, the British presence in the Gulf was not a formal
colonial relationship, but one administered through a series of relationships with
the local tribal leaders, a dynamic that was replicated with the establishment of the
states in the region on their independence.
Unlike the rest of the Gulf and Iran, oil production in Saudi Arabia was linked
to the US from the very beginning. The first oil contract was won by Standard Oil
of California (Socal, now Chevron) in 1933, a concession that would become an
established oil field by 1938 (Bronson, 2006: 15). Standard Oil already had a pres-
ence in the region, running a profitable well in Bahrain since 1932. The relationship
between the US and Middle East oil is perhaps one of the most controversial aspects
of regional politics. It is an issue replete with uncertain intentions and controversial
strategic calculations. However, putting aside more conspiratorial allegations of US
intentions in the Middle East, that the US requires both access to and the stability
of Middle East oil is not a mystery. For instance, the Carter Doctrine of 1980 stated
that ‘an attempt by any outside force to gain control of the Persian Gulf region will
be regarded as an assault on the vital interests of the United States of America’.
In this regard, US concern for control of regional oil, or at least reliable and stable
access and pricing, does not stem from a strict ‘reliance’ on regional oil supplies (see
Figure 6.2). By the 1970s, the US had moved from a net exporter to a net importer
of oil. However, of the total 329,000 barrels per day imported by the US, around
81,000 barrels, or 25%, come from the Middle East. This is not reliance per se.
Rather, underwriting stability and the maintenance of leverage over oil producers is
perhaps more vital to US interests than the purchase of oil.
Price per barrel (US$)

120
100
80
60
40
20
0
1945
1948
1951
1954
1957
1960
1963
1966
1969
1972
1975
1978
1981
1984
1987
1990
1993
1996
1999
2002
2005
2008
2011
2014
Figure 6.2 World oil prices
Oil Companies and Oil Politics

Central to the oil industry are the oil companies. Here, control over oil has often
played itself out in control over these companies, often through the nationalisation
of oil industries. In the Middle East, there were nationalisations in Iran in 1951,
Iraq in 1961 and Egypt in 1962. However, a more common occurrence has been
Table 6.11 Oil production in the Middle East (2016)
Global % Global Global

Rank BPD* Rank BPD Rank BPD
1 Saudi 1 10.625 6 Algeria 17 1.171 11 Sudan 33 0.255

Arabia
2 Iraq 4 4.836 7 Oman 18 1.007 12 Bahrain 50 0.064
3 Iran 6 3.920 8 Qatar 24 0.639 13 Turkey 53 0.061
4 UAE 8 3.188 9 Egypt 25 0.582 14 Tunisia 55 0.059
5 Kuwait 9 3.000 10 Libya 28 0.528 15 Yemen 70 0.022
*
BPD = barrels per day (million, e.g. 8.800 = 8,800,000; 0.681 = 681,000).
government intervention in controlling the distribution of oil leases, at times based

on political rather than economic considerations. This was a feature of the Libyan
oil market under the Gaddhafi regime from 1979 to 2011. Alternatively, govern-
ments have also established holdings in jointly owned oil companies, such as the
Saudi Arabian Oil Company (ARAMCO).
Case Study: ARAMCO

Founded in 1933, soon after the establishment of the Saudi state, ARAMCO holds
the largest proven reserves of crude oil of any company (including Ghawar Field,
the largest proven oil field in the world) as well as the largest ‘downstream’ network
of refining facilities globally. In 2010, ARAMCO made an estimated $182 billion
dollar profit, with the company worth an estimated nearly $800 billion dollars,
making it one of the largest companies in the world.
According to Forbes magazine, oil companies made up nine of the top 20 most valu-
able publicly listed companies in the world in 2012: Exxon Mobil (US, No. 1), Royal Dutch
Shell (Netherlands, No. 4), PetroChina (China, No. 7), Petrobras-Petróleo Brasil (Brazil,
No. 10), BP (UK, No. 11), Chevron (US, No. 12), Gazprom (Russia, No. 15), Total (France,
No. 18) and BNP Paribas (France, No. 20).
In addition, oil companies made up 10 of the top 20 leading companies by revenue:
Exxon Mobil (No. 1), Royal Dutch Shell (No. 2), BP (No. 4), Sinopec (China, No. 6), Chevron
(No. 7), ConocoPhillips (US, No. 8), PetroChina (No. 11), Total (No. 12), ARAMCO (No.
16) and Gazprom (No. 17).
In the early 1930s, Standard Oil of California (Socal) and, later, the Texas Oil
Company (Texaco), Standard Oil of New Jersey (Esso) and Socony Vacuum (Mobil)
were granted concessions in eastern Saudi Arabia, creating the California–Arabian
Standard Oil Company (US ARAMCO). As the oil field became increasingly
profitable through the 1940s, pressure from Saudi King Abdul Aziz ibn Saud saw an
agreement struck where 50% of ARAMCO’s profits would go to the Saudi regime.
As is outlined below, the 1973 oil price crisis saw the Saudi government acquire
a 25% stake in US ARAMCO, taking a 100% stake in the company by 1980. Saudi
ownership of the company was completed in 1988 through changing the name of the
company to Saudi ARAMCO. Whilst the company is officially a privately owned
enterprise, it has no shareholders and is essentially a state-owned oil company.
OPEC
The Organization of Petroleum Exporting Countries (OPEC) emerged out of
efforts by oil producers to coordinate production levels and take control of pricing.
The original members of OPEC (Iran, Iraq, Kuwait, Saudi Arabia and Venezuela)
were later joined by a number of other states, including Qatar, Libya, the UAE and
Algeria. The rationale of the organisation was to ensure greater local control over
production and pricing, and in addition it has enabled OPEC members to not
only affect global oil supplies but also have an impact on global economic stability.
By the late 1960s, OPEC members had become increasingly activist in the face of
sustained low oil prices. Consequently, they began pressuring oil consumers as well
as major oil companies by limiting supply as a means of increasing the price on the
global market.
The 1973 Oil Price Crisis

The 1973 October War involved not just military action by Egypt and Syria
but also a broader coordination with Arab oil-producing states. The Arab oil-
producing states, operating through OPEC and its associated network OAPEC (the
Organization of Arab Petroleum Exporting Countries), imposed an oil embargo on
the US in response to President Nixon’s announcement of his intent to send air
supplies to Israel. This embargo was later extended to the Netherlands as the major
port for oil to Europe.
The Organization of Arab Petroleum Exporting Countries (OAPEC) was founded

in 1968 by Kuwait, Libya and Saudi Arabia, and later joined by Algeria, Libya, Egypt,
Syria and Iraq.
By late October, the price of oil had increased dramatically from $3 to $12 per
barrel, causing oil shortages across the world and both prompting an inflation-
ary spike in prices of related industries and triggering successive global recessions
through the late 1970s and 1980s. More dramatically for the Middle East, the
sharp rise in oil prices saw a massive influx of revenue into the oil-producing states.
This event was also seminal in shaping US engagement with the Middle East.
As oil shortages swept across the country, there were knock-on effects throughout
the US economy, driving it into recession. This convinced many within the US
government, particularly those within the Nixon administration such as then head
of the Office of Economic Opportunity Donald Rumsfeld and his senior staffer
Richard Cheney, both later key members of the Reagan, George H.W. Bush and
George W. Bush administrations, of the need to avoid similar events happening in
the future. Thus, it was control over the supply of regional oil and the stabilisation
of the price of oil rather than reliance on oil supply that have shaped US oil policy
in the Middle East since this time.
Liberalisation and Reform

Framing these dynamics has been the pressure for economic reform in the Middle
East. In particular, these pressures have centred on economic liberalisation, or the
process of removing government regulation and restrictions on private ownership.
The logic for this centres on the argument that ‘public enterprises are less effi-
cient that private ones’ and more vulnerable to corruption (Ayubi, 1999: 329). The
flip-side of this argument is that the private sector is the antithesis of this public
inefficiency and corruption, providing the necessary competition to foster employ-
ment and economic development.
This is an ideological approach accompanied by a ‘neoliberal’ view of the global
economic system. Neoliberal views of development focus on four areas that shape
policy choices and priorities. These are: the centrality of the individual as a rational
actor; an unrestricted global market as the best mechanism for the distribution of
wealth to these individuals; limiting the role of the state’s potential to distort the
logic of the market; and democratic systems that would, ideally, act to limit the
potential for the state to interfere in the market (Dodge, 2009: 275). In simpler
terms, neoliberalism focuses on unhindered individual choice in an unrestricted
marketplace, where the exercise of state power is to be minimised as much as pos-
sible, particularly in relation to economic activity.
Liberalisation and Globalisation

A common theme of globalisation has been the notion of the ‘state in retreat’; that
is, the globalising trends forcing the state to withdraw from previously held roles,
with the privatisation of nationalised industries, for instance, as a key sign of this.
However, for many there is another dynamic at work whereby the processes of
globalisation, particularly the privatisation of state ownership, actually represent

the resilience of the authoritarian state. That is, the state can ‘still maintain its con-
trol over the economy and the accumulation and distribution of wealth through its
informal patronage networks’ (Guazzone and Pioppi, 2009: 6) (see Chapter 8).
Thus:
the restructuring of Arab states in response to neoliberal globalisation is

characterised by the emergence and gradual consolidation of a new model of
authoritarian political regime, in which the state increasingly represents the
sum of the private interests of the members of the regime and is less and less
accountable to its own citizens (i.e. privatisation of the state). This develop-
ment is characterised by a fragmentation of the power structure and by an
increase in informal modes of government (such as neo-patrimonialism and
corruption), with a parallel political and economic marginalisation of large
social sectors. (Guazzone and Pioppi, 2009: 7–8)
The Dynamics of Neoliberal Reforms in the Middle East

Therefore, this is a process of state restructuring along the lines of ‘neoliberal’
principles. From the 1990s, all states across the region implemented reforms
ostensibly in pursuit of the goals that these liberalising reforms offered. This was
in contrast to the expansion of state ownership, or what Nazih Ayubi has referred
to as étatisme, from the 1950s to the 1970s (Ayubi, 1999: 329). These reforms
were framed within the context of ‘opening-up’ (infitah) policies whereby publicly
owned enterprises were privatised. As previously outlined, state-owned industries,
many of which were nationalised after independence, were sold. This occurred
alongside reforms that were designed to remove state regulations over private
ownership.
Where this was a process designed primarily around an economic logic, neolib-
eral doctrine also assumed that the removal of state regulations and diminishing
state ownership of industry would lead to an opening up of the political system –
that is, political liberalisation flowing from economic liberalisation. As such, these
processes of moving control out of the state and into the private sphere also became
a process of diminishing control, ergo diminishing sovereignty.
For authoritarian states, loss of control presents a considerable challenge, as this
process may open up alternative avenues through which challenges to authority can
be presented, whether this be through media and information technologies, profes-
sional exchanges, or a more complex process leading to the broadening of social
awareness. Therefore, it has been a common assumption within both policy circles
and the academy that this dynamic will inevitably lead to a challenge to authoritar-
ian structures such as those that have proven resilient in the Arab world.
However, as recent research has shown, apparent economic reforms across the
Arab world have not only masked a lack of political liberalisation, but also the
ability of states to retain control over sections of the economy. In terms of the per-
sistence of authoritarianism, privatisation processes across the Middle East have
‘represented a chance for ruling elites to reorganise or, better, shift patronage net-
works towards the private sector without undermining the power of the state as
the ultimate source of rent’ (Guazzone and Pioppi, 2009: 5). That is, whilst the
formal mechanics of state control may be diminishing, these states are able to not
only adapt to, but potentially thrive in, a new environment where their control is
outsourced through unofficial channels, the informal economy, whilst taking on the
trappings of economic and political reform.
The Politics of ‘Structural Adjustment’

Despite the persistence of authoritarianism under these reforms, they have guided the
way in which global institutions, such as the World Bank and the IMF, judge eco-
nomic development. These views impact regional economies and livelihoods through
the imposition of structural adjustment programmes (SAPs). SAPs are a set of pol-
icies that states must follow in order to qualify for World Bank and IMF financing.
SAPs are framed in terms of the guiding principles of privatisation and eco-
nomic liberalisation to promote export-led growth, requiring a devaluation of
the local currency, deregulation of import and export restrictions (such as tariffs)
and limits to governmental spending (including state subsidies and welfare pro-
grammes). Compliance with these measures, based on neoliberal views of economic
development that emphasise production and global trade, enable states to qualify
for lower interest rates on IMF loans. These reforms also emphasise the privatisa-
tion of state-owned industries as well as deregulation of government oversight on
the private sector.
Examples of Structural Adjustment

Programmes (SAPs) and Pressures for Neoliberal
Economic Reforms in Egypt, Yemen and Iraq
In the wake of the collapse of the Mubarak regime in 2011, the US Agency for
International Aid and Development (USAID) contracted a $283 million reform project
for the Egyptian agricultural sector. The release of these funds was conditional on the
drafting of new laws to deregulate ownership of agricultural industries as well as the
removal of subsidies for basic foodstuffs. This has fed into a sharp inflationary trend
in basic foodstuffs in the wake of the Tahrir uprising.
In 2007, the World Bank approved a $50 million loan to Yemen for economic reform.
Key conditions of this finance included a new land registration law requiring citizens
to hold legal titles for land ownership. However, many Yemenis did not possess formal
land titles, having possession based on tribal modes of ownership. Thus, these reforms
led to these communities effectively becoming dispossessed.
After the 2003 US-led invasion and occupation of Iraq, the Coalition Provisional
Authority implemented ‘General Order 39’, officially as a response to UN Security
Council Resolution 1483 (2003), which removed government controls and regulation on
the Iraqi private sector, including the oil industry. These reforms facilitated unlimited
foreign ownership of local industries as well as there being no regulation on sending
funds generated by Iraqi industries overseas.
These programmes are deeply controversial. For instance, where currency devalua-
tion is designed to promote spending on domestic goods to prompt greater demand,
therefore greater employment, it also reduces the country’s spending power. As
many of these countries lack the infrastructure to meet local demand, they need to
import either goods or the equipment necessary to produce these goods, necessi-
tating loans that indebt the government even more (as they are paying them off in
their local, devalued, currency). Therefore, there is an inflationary trend, particularly
for basic goods, and thus these policies tend to hurt poorer sections of society.
Spending cuts are the centrepiece of SAPs. With adjustment programmes often
being implemented in countries with significant state spending programmes, they
result in cuts to programmes such as health, education and welfare, and thus, these
cuts tend to hurt poorer citizens. This has been felt particularly in those states that
pursued the largely failed state-led development programmes from the 1950s and
1960s, such as Algeria, Egypt and Syria.
The Washington Consensus was a term coined by British economist John Williamson to
define the bases for the way the IMF and the World Bank understood economic develop-
ment. This revolved around a focus on the avoidance of GDP deficits, a removal of state
subsidies, broadening the tax base, market-based (rather than state-regulated) interest
rates, devaluation of currencies, trade liberalisation, deregulation of foreign direct invest-
ment, privatisation, broader deregulation and legal protection for private property.
Another detrimental effect of these reforms has been the focus on export-led
growth. Here, countries receiving SAP funding are encouraged to export more
goods in order to generate funds to pay off public debt. The increase in the sup-
ply of these goods leads to a decrease in their price, forcing more production to
keep money coming into the economy. As mentioned above, this leads to already
fragile economies becoming more reliant on single commodities and the volatility
associated with this. In addition, many states must take out loans to develop these
industries, putting them further into debt and therefore making them reliant on
SAP guidelines.
The Politics of US Aid in the Middle East

Alongside efforts towards breaking stagnant economic cycles has been direct
state-to-state financial assistance. After the Cold War, this has been an area
dominated by the United States, particularly through the United States Agency
for International Development (USAID) and, more recently, the Middle East
Partnership Initiative (MEPI), the Millennium Challenge Corporation (MCC),
as well as smaller programmes through agencies such as the National Democratic
Institute (NDI) and the International Republican Institute (IRI). Here, there
have been links to the aforementioned pressures towards neoliberal economic
reforms. However, this has also been overlaid with the even more controversial
elements of military aid and its relationship to the broader strategic priorities of
the United States in the Middle East.
The United States is the largest provider of financial assistance to the Middle
East, with Middle Eastern states high on the list of global recipients of US financial
assistance. For instance, of the estimated total of $25 billion of total aid, states of the
region receive around one-third. However, exact figures are hard to verify as finan-
cial assistance can include not only official aid programmes across both economic
and military assistance but also contributions from the private sector.
Here, US aid policy is ostensibly linked to development goals. The most recent
articulation of this was the implementation of the US Global Development
Policy at the 2010 Summit on the UN Millennium Development Goals. Here,
President Obama outlined changes to the US approach to aid in line with those
articulated in the MDG, particularly in terms of capacity building. In this regard,
there has been a noticeable shift, rhetorically at least, from the Washington
Consensus model towards one more oriented around ideas of human security
and related concepts.
However, as Table 6.12 suggests, there are still clear strategic calculations to
US aid. These have to do with the targets of US aid vis-à-vis need. That is, many
of the top recipients of US aid in the Middle East (as well as globally) are not
those in most need of assistance. For instance, the ratio of aid to GDP, as out-
lined in Table 6.3, shows that many states who receive aid already have relatively
strong domestic economies, particularly when compared with the GDPs of other
regional states.
Table 6.12 US aid to Middle Eastern states (2011, US$)
Economic Aid Military Aid Total Ratio of Aid to GDP
1 Israel 0 2,994,000,000 2,994,000,000 0.7%

2 Egypt 349,500,000 1,304,300,000 1,653,800,000 1.3%
3 Jordan 362,300,000 315,900,000 678,200,000 6.6%
4 Palestine 416,600,000 133,500,000 550,100,000 4.3%
5 Iraq 325,400,000 146,400,000 471,800,000 0.4%
6 Saudi Arabia 364,000,000 0 364,000,000 0.1%
7 Sudan 218,300,000 20,300,000 238,600,000 2.2%
8 Lebanon 101,600,000 84,800,000 186,400,000 1.2%
9 Yemen 56,300,000 26,600,000 82,900,000 3.1%
10 Morocco 19,000,000 15,100,000 35,100,000 1.3%
11 Tunisia 5,500,000 20,200,000 25,700,000 1.1%
12 Oman 16,100,000 0 16,100,000 0.2%
13 Algeria 8,200,000 1,600,000 9,800,000 0.3%
14 Libya 5,700,000 0 5,700,000 0.1%
15 Turkey 5,400,000 0 5,400,000 0.1%
In addition, the aid received by these states includes large amounts of military assis-
tance. For instance, the top two recipients of US aid in the Middle East, Israel and
Egypt, receive annually nearly $3 billion and over $1.3 billion worth of military
assistance respectively. This figure is far in excess of the assistance provided for
democracy promotion or civil society support schemes. As such, despite efforts to
shape US aid priorities around altruistic goals such as those in the MDGs, aid
remains a political tool for external players in the Middle East.
Conclusion
This discussion has shown how economic development in the region cannot be cap-
tured in single indicators. Where some states exhibit rapid economic growth, others
continue to stagnate. Where some have highly diversified economies, others draw
their revenue primarily from single sources. However, in many respects, the issue of oil
remains the dominant theme of regional economic development and stability. Indeed,
this is an issue that tempers the way the world engages with the region. Overlaying
this, this chapter has shown how oil has not ensured the economic independence
of the region, but has instituted a pattern of economic instability and dependency –
features that have been entrenched through efforts towards economic reforms and
liberalisation. Indeed, the structural adjustment of regional economies has impacted
disproportionately on the poorer members of regional states, exacerbating wealth
inequalities and standards of living. This has fed into renewed calls for greater social
justice and support for those ideologies and groups who pursue a populist cause.
Study Questions
♦♦ What are the key features of the economies of the Middle East?
♦♦ What do different understandings of economic ‘development’ tell us about the
economies of the region?
♦♦ What are economic structural weaknesses and how are they reflected in the
region?
♦♦ What is the impact of oil on the economies of the Middle East?
♦♦ How have economic liberalisation programmes been implemented in the Middle
East?
♦♦ What are the political issues associated with aid and financial assistance to
the Middle East?
Further Reading
Henry, Clement and Springborg, Robert (2001) Globalization and the Politics of
Development in the Middle East. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
An insightful examination of how both governments and societies in the Middle
East have responded to the pressures of globalisation.
Owen, Roger (1992) The Middle East in the World Economy, 1800–1914. London:
I.B. Tauris.
A seminal study on the foundations of the region’s economies, providing key expla-
nations for the structural weaknesses that now plague them.
Richards, Alan and Waterbury, John (2007) A Political Economy of the Middle East.
Boulder, CO: Westview Press.
Based on key approaches to political economy, this volume provides useful insights
into the economic dynamics of the modern Middle East.
Yergin, Daniel (2009) The Prize: The Epic Quest for Oil, Money and Power. New
York: Free Press.
A compelling account of the history of oil and its impacts on the global economy,
helping provide insight into the vital role it plays in Middle Eastern affairs.

References
AHDR (2002) Arab Human Development Report 2002: Creating Opportunities for
Future Generations. New York: United Nations Development Programme.
AHDR (2009) Arab Human Development Report 2009: Challenges to Human Security
in the Arab Countries. New York: United Nations Development Programme.
Ayubi, Nazih (1999) Over-Stating the Arab State. London: I.B. Tauris.
Bronson, Rachel (2006) Thicker than Oil: America’s Uneasy Partnership with Saudi
Arabia. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Dodge, Toby (2009) ‘Coming Face to Face with Bloody Reality: Liberal Common
Sense and the Ideological Failure of the Bush Doctrine in Iraq’, International
Politics, 46(2–3): 253–75.
Guazzone, Laura and Pioppi, Daniella (eds) (2009) The Arab State and Neo-Liberal
Globalization: The Restructuring of State Power in the Middle East. Ithaca, NY:
Cornell University Press.
Luciani, Giacomo (ed.) (1990) The Arab State. Berkeley, CA: University of California
Press.
Mahdavy, Hussein (1970) ‘The Patterns and Problems of Economic Development
in Rentier States: The Case of Iran’, in M.A. Cook (ed.) Studies in the Economic
History of the Middle East. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Owen, Roger (2008) ‘One Hundred Years of Middle Eastern Oil’, Crown Center
for Middle East Studies (Brandeis University), January.
Potter, Lawrence G. (2008) The Persian Gulf in History. New York: Palgrave
Macmillan.
UNDP (1990) Human Development Report 1990. New York: United Nations
Development Programme.
World Economic Forum (2011) ‘Global Competitiveness’; www.weforum.org/
reports/global-competitiveness-report-2011-2012
7
The Military,
Security and Politics
in the Middle East
Learning Objectives
♦♦ The size and relative power of military forces across the region.
♦♦ The impacts of ongoing territorial disputes in the Middle East and North Africa.
♦♦ The significance of nuclear proliferation and the impacts of Israeli and Iranian
nuclear programmes.
♦♦ The development of sub-state and trans-state terrorism and political violence in the
region and its global impacts.
♦♦ The ramifications of the ‘War on Terror’ in the Middle East and North Africa.
TIMELINE
November 1967: Opening of the 1992: Osama bin Laden and

Tehran Nuclear Research Centre al-Qaeda arrive in Khartoum,
Sudan
1968: Israel achieves nuclear
weapons capacity 1992: Founding of the Armed
Islamic Group (GIA) in Algeria
30 November 1971: Iran takes
out of members of the Islamic
possession of the islands of Abu
Salvation Front (Front Islamique
Musa and Greater and Lesser
du Salut, FIS)
Tunb
August–September 1992: First
10 May 1973: POLISARIO Front
postwar elections in Lebanon
founded
29 December 1992: First ‘official’
31 October 1975: Morocco occupies
al-Qaeda attack targeting US
positions in Western Sahara
servicemen in Yemen
7 June 1981: Israel destroys Iraqi
26 February 1993: Al-Qaeda
nuclear facility at Osiraq
associates bomb the basement
1982: Hezbollah founded of the World Trade Center, New
York City
June 1983: Outbreak of Second
Sudanese Civil War April 1996: Israeli attacks on
Hezbollah targets in Lebanon
1984: ‘Office of Services’
(‘Operation Grapes of Wrath’)
established by Abdullah Azzam
and Osama bin Laden to May 1996: Al-Qaeda expelled from
coordinate foreign Islamist Sudan, move to Taleban-ruled
fighters in Afghanistan Afghanistan
September 1986: Mordechai 25 June 1996: Al-Qaeda bombing
Vananu’s disclosure of Israel’s of the Khobar Towers, Dhahran,
nuclear programme revealed in Saudi Arabia
The Sunday Times
8 June 1998: Bin Laden formally
1989: Al-Qaeda formally indicted by the US for
established in Afghanistan conspiracy to attack US forces
30 June 1990: Omar al-Bashir 7 August 1998: Al-Qaeda bombs
appointed President of Sudan US embassies in Nairobi, Kenya
and Dar-es-Salaam, Tanzania
2 August 1990: Iraq invades Kuwait
20 August 1998: US aerial bombing
8 August 1990: US-led ‘Operation
of al-Shifa pharmaceutical
Desert Shield’ launched
factory in Sudan in response to
17 January 1991: ‘Operation the US Embassy bombings in
Desert Storm’ is launched to Kenya and Tanzania
remove Iraqi forces from Kuwait
1999: Founding of the Salafist
28 February 1991: Iraq Group for Preaching and
unconditionally accepts UN Combat (GSPC) in Algeria out of
resolutions on Kuwait invasion members of the GIA
The Military, Security and Politics in the Middle East 199
7 July 2000: Israel withdraws from 14 February 2005: Former Lebanese

southern Lebanon Prime Minister Rafiq al-Hariri killed
in bomb-blast in central Beirut
12 October 2000: Al-Qaeda attack
on the USS Cole off the coast of 12 July–14 August 2006: July war
Yemen between Israel and Hezbollah
11 September 2001: Al-Qaeda 14 July 2008: International Criminal
attacks on the United States Court (ICC) arrest warrant
issued to Sudanese President
20 January 2002: Machakos Bashir for charges of war crimes
Protocol ends the Second and crimes against humanity
Sudanese Civil War
21 May 2008: Doha Agreement
August 2002: Information revealing giving Hezbollah a veto over all
Iran’s nuclear facilities at Natanz government decision-making in
and Arak Lebanon
2003: Al-Qaeda in Iraq founded January 2009: Al-Qaeda in the
2003: Al-Qaeda in the Islamic Arabian Peninsula founded
Maghreb founded 12 July 2010: ICC arrest warrant
February 2003: Outbreak of issued to Sudanese President
conflict in Darfur Bashir for charges of genocide
15–20 November 2003: Al-Qaeda 9 July 2011: South Sudan formally

bombings in central Istanbul, secedes from Sudan after
Turkey January 2011 referendum
Introduction
The Middle East is often understood as a region in crisis, one gripped by a series
of rolling emergencies and critical security issues. In recent years, this dynamic
has been understood primarily in terms of the danger posed by weapons of mass
destruction or the threat of terrorism. This section will discuss how nuclear prolif-
eration and the increase in sub-state and trans-state terrorism have interacted with
‘conventional’ security concerns. This will be aimed at understanding the changing
security landscape of the region.
The Military and Politics in the Middle East

Whilst issues relating to nuclear proliferation and sub-state and trans-state ter-
rorism are critical, this section explores the ‘conventional’ security landscape of the
Middle East, with a focus on state-based military power. This discussion will out-
line the relative military strengths of each state, as well as touch on key security
issues, notably ongoing territorial disputes across the region with a focus on the
tension between Iran and the UAE over the islands of Abu Musa and Greater and
Lesser Tunb, Morocco’s ongoing occupation of the Western Sahara, as well as the
conflict in Sudan’s Darfur region.
The Military Landscape of the Middle East

The Middle East is a highly militarised region, both in terms of the size and capac-
ity of military forces as well as the role of the military in politics. As was outlined
in previous chapters, the military has been deeply involved in regional politics, both
through direct action, such as military coups, and in acting as agents for ruling
regimes to maintain their authority.
Table 7.1 Military expenditures (2011)
In Dollar (US$) Terms As % of GDP
1 Saudi Arabia 48,531,000,000 1 Saudi Arabia 10.1

2 Turkey 17,871,000,000 2 Oman 8.5
3 Israel 16,446,000,000 3 UAE 6.9
4 UAE 15,749,000,000 4 Israel 6.5
5 Algeria 8,665,000,000 5 Jordan 5.0
6 Iran 7,044,000,000 6 Lebanon 4.2
7 Iraq 5,845,000,000 7 Syria 4.1
8 Kuwait 5,640,000,000 8 Yemen 3.9
9 Qatar 4,468,000,000 9 Algeria 3.6
10 Oman 4,291,000,000 10 Kuwait 3.6
11 Egypt 4,285,000,000 11 Morocco 3.5
12 Morocco 3,342,000,000 12 Sudan 3.4
13 Syria 2,495,000,000 13 Bahrain 3.4
14 Sudan 1,991,000,000 14 Turkey 2.4
15 Lebanon 1,754,000,000 15 Iraq 2.4
16 Jordan 1,368,000,000 16 Qatar 2.4
17 Yemen 1,222,000,000 17 Egypt 2.0
18 Libya 1,100,000,000 18 Iran 1.8
19 Bahrain 878,000,000 19 Tunisia 1.4
20 Tunisia 614,000,000 20 Libya 1.2
In terms of relative military strength, Tables 7.1 and 7.2 highlight some interest-
ing differentials between the relative military powers of each state. For instance,
in terms of military expenditure, Table 7.1 shows large military expenditures by a
number of states. This is particularly pronounced amongst oil-producing states in
terms of military expenditure as a percentage of GDP. Here, Saudi Arabia has by
far the largest expenditure both in dollar terms as well as a proportion of GDP, with
the UAE also scoring highly on both accounts.
In addition, Turkey and Israel also spend heavily on their respective armed forces.
For Israel, as was outlined in Chapter 6 (Table 6.12), their military expenditure is
supplemented by substantial US military aid, including arms and technical assis-
tance. Large US military aid contributions also supplement the military budgets
of Egypt and, to a lesser extent, Jordan. However, US military assistance to Egypt,
an estimated $1.3 billion, has come under increasing scrutiny in Washington, and
remains contingent on particular foreign policy choices, including the mainte-
nance of the peace treaty with Israel as well as refusing support to the activities of
Palestinian Hamas, particularly in the Gaza Strip (see Chapter 5).
However, military expenditures do not necessarily equate to military strength.
Other factors, from the size of military forces, levels of training and expertise, types
of weapons, as well as backing from powerful international players, all impact on
the strategic landscape of the region. Here, Israel’s military, particularly the Israeli
Defence Force (IDF), is considered to be one of the most effective military forces
both in the Middle East and globally due to its military hardware, strategic knowl-
edge and expertise, foreign assistance, battle-readiness and, as is outlined below, the
impact of nuclear weapons. Indeed, the large military budgets of the Arab Gulf
states do not equate to powerful militaries. In terms of sheer numbers, these states
lack the human resources to fill the ranks of large standing armies, such as those
in Egypt, Turkey, Iran, Syria and Algeria. In addition, despite possessing the latest
military equipment, the lack of training or direct military experience leaves these
states largely reliant on support from the US and UK to underwrite their security.
This was seen with the international response to the 1990 Iraqi invasion of Kuwait
(see below) through Operations ‘Desert Shield’ and ‘Desert Storm’.
Regional Security Issues

Confrontations over territory and borders, whether this be between states or a state
facing a separatist or irredentist movement, remain key features of the security
landscape of the Middle East. Here, there is overlap between ‘conventional’ conflict
and other, more damaging forms of conflict that have impacted on civilian popula-
tions. Here, we shall outline a range of these issues, from ‘cold’ confrontations over
territory between Iran and the UAE, and active separatist conflicts with Morocco’s
Table 7.2 The military of the states of the Middle East and North Africa (2011
estimates)
Personnel Conscription Branches
1 Egypt 799,000 Yes Army, Navy, Air Force

2 Turkey 617,000 Yes Army, Navy, Air Force
3 Iran 585,000 Yes Army, Navy, Air Force, Revolutionary Guard,
Basij Force
4 Syria 416,000 Yes Army, Navy, Air Force
5 Algeria 319,000 Yes Army, Navy, Air Force
6 Morocco 251,000 Yes Army, Navy, Air Force
7 Iraq 227,000 Yes Army, Navy, Air Force
8 Saudi Arabia 216,000 No Army, Navy, Air Force, National Guard
9 Israel 176,000 Yes Defence Force, Navy, Air Force
10 Yemen 138,000 Yes Army, Navy, Air Force, Republican Guards
11 Sudan 123,000 Yes Army, Navy, Air Force, Defence Force
12 Jordan 111,000 Suspended Army, Navy, Air Force, Public Security
Directorate
13 Lebanon 85,000 Yes Army, Air Force
14 Libya 76,000 Yes Army, Navy, Air Force
15 UAE 51,000 No Army, Navy, Air Force, National Coast Guard
16 Tunisia 47,000 Yes Army, Navy, Air Force
17 Oman 46,000 No Army, Navy, Air Force
18 Kuwait 23,000 Yes Army, Navy, Air Force, National Guard
19 Bahrain 21,000 No Defence Force, Ground Force, Navy, Air
Force, National Guard
20 Qatar 12,000 No Army, Navy, Air Force
occupation of the Western Sahara, to wholesale military campaigns against civilian

populations with Sudan’s actions in its Darfur province.
Ongoing Territorial Disputes

Unresolved issues of borders are a central dynamic of regional security. Table 7.3
outlines how many regional states are currently involved in disputes over territorial
frontiers with their neighbours. Most of these disputes remain ‘passive’, however,
with claims under diplomatic negotiation or put aside for reasons of expediency,
notably for the continuation of trade and other relations, as well as for reasons of
regional stability and security.
Table 7.3 Active territorial disputes involving the states of the Middle East and
North Africa
Claimants Disputed Territories
Algeria and Libya Algerian–Libyan border

Algeria and Morocco Algerian–Moroccan border
Bahrain and Qatar Fasht ad-Dibal, Qit ` at Jaradeh
Egypt and Sudan Bir Tawil, Hala` ib Triangle, Wadi Halfa
Iran and the UAE Abu Musa, Greater and Lesser Tunb Islands
Iraq and Iran Shatt al-Arab
Israel, Lebanon and Syria Sheba ` a Farms
Israel and Palestinian Authority East Jerusalem, West Bank, Gaza Strip
Israel and Syria Golan Heights
Kuwait and Saudi Arabia Qarooh and Umm al-Maradim
Lebanon and Syria Aasal, al-Qaa, al-Qasr, Deir al-Aashayer, Kfar
Kouq, Tufail
Morocco and Spain Ceuta, Melilla, Peñón de Vélez de la Gomera, Perejil
Island
Oman and Saudi Arabia Omani–Saudi border
Oman and Yemen Khuriya Muriya Islands
Sudan and South Sudan Abyei, Heglig, Kafia Kingi, Kaka
Turkey and Cyprus The Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus
Turkey and Greece Imia, Kardak, Aegean Sea
UAE and Saudi Arabia UAE–Saudi border
Yemen and Saudi Arabia Yemeni–Saudi border
Yemen and Somalia Socotra Archipelago
However, there are also a number of active territorial disputes. For instance, as
Chapter 5 outlines, the Israeli–Palestinian and broader Arab–Israeli conflicts
revolve around contested issues of territoriality, overlaid with debates concern-
ing legitimacy and competing norms and narratives of identity politics. Also,
the secession of South Sudan from Sudan on 9 July 2011 came on the back of
a civil war that had raged since 1983, with an estimated 150,000 civilian deaths
and charges of mass human rights violations. Indeed, the end of the war has not
fully resolved this issue, with the border continually contested and intermit-
tent fighting between the government in Khartoum and the newly independent
government in Juba.
Table 7.4 Active separatist/irredentist disputes involving the states of the Middle
East and North Africa
Movement
State Separatist Movement Type Disputed Territories
Algeria Mouvement pour l’Autonomie de Separatist Kabylie (northern

la Kabylie Algeria)
Iran Al-Ahwaz Arab People’s Separatist Khuzestan
Democratic Popular Front (southwestern Iran)
Iran South Azerbaijan National Separatist Azerbaijan
Awakening Movement (northwestern Iran)
Iran Kurdish Democratic Party of Iran Irredentist Kurdistan (western
Iran)
Iran Baluchistan People’s Party Separatist Baluchistan
(southeastern Iran)
Iraq Patriotic Union of Kurdistan Irredentist Kurdistan (northern
Iraq)
Iraq Kurdish Democratic Party of Iraq Irredentist Kurdistan (northern
Iraq)
Iraq Iraqi Turkmen Front Separatist Turkmenli (central-
northern Iraq)
Morocco POLISARIO Front Separatist Western Sahara
Sudan Sudan Liberation Movement Separatist Darfur (western Sudan)
Sudan Justice and Equality Movement Separatist Darfur (western Sudan)
Sudan Darfur Liberation Front Separatist Darfur (western Sudan)
Syria Kurdish Democratic Party of Irredentist Kurdistan
Syria (northeastern Syria)
Yemen South Yemen Movement Separatist South Yemen
In addition, as Table 7.4 outlines, there are a number of active separatist movements
across the region, claiming territory for the establishment of independent states.
Below, we shall outline an example of an inter-state territorial dispute between Iran
and the UAE over control of strategically vital islands in the Gulf and a separatist
movement involving Morocco and the POLISARIO Front over control of the for-
mer Spanish colony of the Western Sahara.
Iran and the UAE: Abu Musa and the Greater and
Lesser Tunb Islands
The Gulf region has been one of the most hotly disputed areas in terms of borders,
involving a number of major wars, including the 1980–8 Iran–Iraq War, with Iraq
Bandar-e
‘Abbas
IRAN
m
esh
eQ
h-y
Jazˉıre Strait of
Bandar-e
Ho
Lengeh
mur
Jazıˉreh-ye
z
Tonb-e Kūchek
(Lesser Tunb)
Jazıˉreh-ye
Tonb-a Bozorg
(Greater Tunb)
SEA LANE
Gulf
Oman
Abū
Mūsǎ
(Abu Musa) Gulf of Oman
U.A.E
Figure 7.1 The islands of Abu Musa and Greater and Lesser Tunb
seeking greater access to the Gulf through the Shatt al-Arab waterway (see Chapter 3)
and the 1990 Iraqi invasion and attempted annexation of Kuwait. In addition,
there are lingering territorial claims involving most of the regional states as well as
broader tensions between Iran and the states with large Shià communities, partic-
ularly Bahrain, Iraq and Saudi Arabia.
However, it is the Iranian occupation of the islands of Abu Musa and Greater
and Lesser Tunb that is perhaps the most strategically consequential. Their impor-
tance lies in their strategic location, directly within the critical sea lanes through the
Strait of Hormuz, the only maritime access point to the Gulf. As such, control of
these islands essentially means control over access to the Gulf, ergo control over the
movement of oil and gas (see Chapter 6).
Iran had possession of the islands from the 17th century until their seizure by the
British in 1921. The British withdrawal from the islands on 30 November 1971 saw
the Shah’s regime retake the islands, despite the British formally passing control to
the Emir of Sharjah, a member of the United Arab Emirates. Since this time, the
UAE has pursued their claims over the islands, backed by the UK, US and Arab
states, including formal legal action through the International Court of Justice. For
its part, Iran maintains that the territory was illegally taken from it by the British in
1921, thus they have the valid claim over the region, backed by the completion of a
military air base on Abu Musa in 1996. Whilst the issue remained dormant through
the late 1990s and 2000s, the significance of the islands returned to the fore in 2012
when Iran threatened to forcibly close the Strait of Hormuz in response to efforts to
impose sanctions regarding their nuclear programme (Ahmadi, 2008).
Morocco and the POLISARIO Front: The Western Sahara Dispute

Whilst discussions of ‘occupation’ and ‘security barriers’ are dominated by the
Israeli–Palestinian dispute (see Chapter 5), another continuing conflict has also wit-
nessed these dynamics, that of the Moroccan occupation and attempted annexation
of the Western Sahara. Under Spanish colonial rule from the 19th century, UN
General Assembly Resolution 2072 of 1965 requested that a referendum on inde-
pendence be held in the territory. This was contested by Morocco and Mauritania,
with the former laying claim to the territory in 1957, soon after its own indepen-
dence. Despite the resolution, the Spanish handed administration of the Western
Sahara to Morocco on their withdrawal in 1975, leading to an ongoing conflict
between Morocco and the Frente Popular de Liberación de Saguía el Hamra y Río de
Oro (POLISARIO Front), who declared the independence of the Sahrawi Arab
Democratic Republic on 27 February 1976.
Since this time, the conflict between the Moroccan government and the
POLISARIO has taken a number of forms, and drawn in regional states. The
POLISARIO and human rights organisations, as well as the UN and EU, argue that
the Moroccan occupation has resulted in numerous cases of human rights abuses
inflicted on Sahrawi activists and the Sahrawi population. These have included
arbitrary arrests, lengthy imprisonment without charge or trial, deaths in custody,
exile and disappearances.
A central mechanism of Morocco’s control over the territory has been the con-
struction of a 2700 kilometre-long wall that is bordered by landmine fields, army
posts and razor wire, known as the ‘Berm’, which separates the interior of the coun-
try from the Moroccan-controlled central and coastal areas. The other area where
Morocco has sought to impose itself on the Western Sahara has been through
efforts to impose demographic change in the territory, displacing many hundreds
of thousands of the Sahrawi and promoting the movement of Moroccan settlers
southward.
The POLISARIO and their supporters argue that this programme of popula-
tion transfer is an attempt to undercut the illegality of Morocco’s occupation, which
rests on the Western Sahara’s listing in the 1960 UN Declaration on the Granting
of Independence to Colonial Countries and Peoples. This declaration requires the

UN, under Chapter XI, to ‘develop self-government, to take due account of the
political aspirations of the peoples, and to assist them in the progressive devel-
opment of their free political institutions’. This was reiterated in 1966 through
Resolution 2229 that declared ‘the inalienable right of the peoples of … Spanish
Sahara to self-determination’; similar resolutions at this time were passed in relation
to Papua, the Trust Territory of New Guinea, East Timor and New Caledonia. In
other words, Resolution 2229 and multiple subsequent UN resolutions and rulings
by the International Court of Justice have called for a referendum on independence
for Western Sahara ( Jensen, 2011).
However, as Spain and Morocco struck a deal for the transfer of power from
the former to the latter in 1975, the chances of holding such a referendum, one
the UN openly admits will lead to Sahrawi independence, have slipped away.
Since this time, several factors have hampered the ability of POLISARIO to
press for a referendum, notably the inability of the movement to pursue its cause
in the UN, the intransigence of Morocco vis-à-vis a referendum and the capacity
of Morocco to resist its international obligations through the support of its key
ally, the United States.
POLISARIO has relied on the Algerian government to campaign for it in the
UN, a role that has been dependent on Algeria’s fractured relationship with Morocco
as well as the presence of the Tindouf refugee camp in southwestern Algeria, the de
facto base of the POLISARIO and largest Sahrawi settlement outside the territory.
Since a ceasefire between Morocco and POLISARIO in 1991, numerous peace
plans have been tabled at the UN, the most notable being those led by former envoy
James Baker in the late 1990s. However, the Moroccan government has continually
refused to entertain the possibility of staging a referendum, whilst POLISARIO
reject incorporation into Morocco.
Despite the international rulings supporting the POLISARIO position, Morocco
has been able to resist such pressure, in large part through its strong relationship
with the United States. The two states have forged a close alliance over many years,
first with Morocco as a valuable Cold War ally, later as a key partner in the ‘War on
Terror’ (see below). In addition, the US and many other Western states have con-
tinued to support the Moroccan government in order to gain access to the lucrative
phosphate industry in the territory, which is controlled by the government in Rabat
(Zunes and Mundy, 2010).
Sudan and Darfur: Genocide and Separatism

Alongside inter-state conflicts and separatist uprisings, the regional security land-
scape also features multi-layered conflicts that involve mass humanitarian crises,
charges of genocide, and, according to some, the impacts of environmental changes.
Sidi lfni
ATLANTIC Guelmim
OCEAN MOROCCO Canary Islands MOROCCO
(SPAIN)
ALGERIA
WESTERN ALGERIA Tan-Tan Headquarters of
SAHARA the Polisario Front
Tarfaya
Tindouf
MAURITANIA Mahbés
MALI Laayoune
Smara
Amagla Bir
Bu Craa Titariti
Lahlou
Boujdor
N
ATLANTIC Bir
OCEAN Maghrein
WESTERN Guelta
SAHARA Zemmur
MAURITANIA
Oum
Dreyga
Baggari National capital
Dakhla
Town or village
Mijek
Berm (barrier separating
Moroccan and Polisario-
controlled areas)
Ausert International boundary
Zouerate
Dry salt lake
Dougaj Wadi (intermit tent river)
Guerguerat Tichia 100 Mi
0
Bon Lanuar 0 100 Km

MAURITANIA
La Guera LUCIDITY INFORMATION DESIGN, LLC
Figure 7.2 Western Sahara, including the ‘Berm’
In this regard, perhaps no modern conflict exhibits all these trends as clearly as the
crisis in the Darfur region in western Sudan.
Darfur is a large region, roughly the size of Spain, with an estimated population
of about 6 million people divided between roughly 70 ethnic and tribal groups. From
the late 1990s to the early 2000s, the region became the focus of inter-community
tension and violence as a number of tribes with closer links to ethnically African com-
munities in Chad formed two rebel movements, the Sudan Liberation Movement
(SLM) and the Justice and Equality Movement ( JEM), which launched attacks on
government targets.
The SLM and JEM accused the government of sponsoring ethnically Arab
tribes and forcibly displacing indigenous peoples from the valuable arable land in
the region. In response, the Sudanese government of Omar al-Bashir facilitated the
transfer of arms and other supplies to a number of militia groups (known colloqui-
ally as the janjaweed ) who embarked on a programme of ethnic cleansing across
the region. Janjaweed raids on civilian communities were also directly supported by
the Sudanese military through air strikes and the blocking of civilian escape routes.
A key tactic of the janjaweed was the destruction of villages and wholesale killing
of communities, as well as the destruction of the vital economic infrastructure of the
region such as livestock and water supplies. At its peak between 2003 and 2008, the
UN has estimated that this conflict led to between 200,000 and 300,000 deaths, as
well as leaving roughly 2.7 million people displaced with a further 2 million directly
affected through food shortages and the collapse of infrastructure.
This widespread humanitarian disaster, according to the United Nations
Environment Programme (UNEP), has been worsened by environmental changes,
including climate change. A 2007 UNEP report found that rainfall had decreased
in the Darfur region by over 30% in the last 40 years in combination with the
expansion of the Sahara into the remaining arable lands in western Sudan (UNEP,
2007). As a result, the scarcity of both arable land and water supplies has fostered
regional tensions, driving the conflict.
Whilst the international community has been largely unable to prevent ongo-
ing violence in Darfur, the UN formed the United Nations/African Union
Lake 35
Nasser
SAUDI
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SHAMĀL Kharloum Āsmera
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0 100 200 Kilometers Pakwach
KENYA
0 100 200 Meters UGANDA
Lake Boundary represendation is
Torono Kitala not necessary authoritative.
30 Albert
Figure 7.3 Sudan before the secession of South Sudan in July 2011
Peacekeeping Force (UNAMID) in conjunction with the African Union in order

to deliver a measure of security and facilitate the delivery of humanitarian aid.
However, it continues to struggle with the scale of the humanitarian and security
disaster (Prunier, 2008). Another international response has been the indictment of
President al-Bashir by the International Criminal Court (ICC) on charges of war
crimes and crimes against humanity in 2008 and on charges of genocide in July
2010. Whilst Sudan is not a party to the ICC, thus technically not under its juris-
diction, UN Security Council Resolution 1593 of 2005 passed under Chapter VII
makes it obligatory for Sudan to comply. This was the first arrest warrant for a sit-
ting president; however, the Sudanese government remains defiant in the face of
international pressure.
The Middle East and the Nuclear Question

Alongside these ongoing issues remains the concern over nuclear proliferation.
A hallmark of Cold War tension, nuclear proliferation in the Middle East, has
re-emerged in recent years as a key security theme. The controversy surrounding
Iran’s nuclear programme after 2002 alongside the continued ambiguity around
Israel’s nuclear programme are key features of this controversy.
Nuclear Programmes in the Middle East

Nuclear proliferation in the Middle East has, by and large, focused on three states,
each adversaries of the other. Israel, Iraq and Iran have developed the most con-
certed programmes towards acquiring nuclear technology for both peaceful and
weapons use. Whilst Egypt, Algeria and Saudi Arabia have all flirted with the
idea of developing nuclear technology, these programmes have remained inef-
fectual. In contrast, the three former powers have presented serious challenges to
regional stability through their pursuit of nuclear technology (Bahgat, 2007: 26).
Iraq and Iran are signatories to the non-proliferation treaty (NPT), whereas
Israel has never acceded to the treaty. This has raised a series of arguments and
counter-arguments concerning the programmes of these respective states. Prior to
the 2003 invasion of Iraq, both Iraq and Iran maintained that they were entitled
to develop peaceful nuclear technology as specified under the NPT, despite well-
founded scepticism regarding the long-term intentions of the regimes in Baghdad
and Tehran.
By contrast, they both alleged that Israel’s clandestine programme was illegal
under international law, whether peaceful or not, as it was not a signatory to the
NPT. However, Israel, despite never publicly acknowledging its programme, has
maintained that it must have exceptional strategic resources such as nuclear tech-
nology, and a monopoly on these resources in the region, due to the constant threats
it faces. Since 2003, Iraq has abandoned its nuclear programme, leaving Israel and
Iran as the major players in this issue.
Israel’s Nuclear Programme: ‘Deliberate Ambiguity’

Israel’s nuclear programme is unique amongst other states due to the ambiguity
surrounding it. The US, UK, France, Russia, China, and in recent years India,
Pakistan and North Korea have all been at pains to publicise their crossing of the
nuclear threshold. However, Israel has consistently argued that it will not be the
first state to introduce nuclear weapons to the region, despite the unmistakable
evidence that they are in possession of this weapons capacity. As former Israeli
Prime Minister Shimon Peres has stated, the ‘suspicion and fog’ surrounding
Israel’s nuclear programme is ‘constructive, because they strengthen our deterrent’
(Peres, 1986).
Therefore, Israel’s nuclear capability is difficult to assess, despite general con-
sensus that it had achieved operational nuclear capability by the late 1960s. It has
employed a strategy of deliberate ambiguity to maximise the strategic benefits of
allegedly possessing nuclear weapons, whilst avoiding the political consequences
of this through remaining opaque about this possession. In this way, it is able to
avoid the obligations of declared nuclear powers under such articles as the NPT.
Their opacity also helps the Israeli government avoid any questions about the legit-
imacy and efficacy of its nuclear programme that would arise both within Israel and
throughout the region.
According to reliable estimates, Israel’s nuclear programme was developed with
significant French help through the 1950s and 1960s, with implicit US approval
that only fully emerged under the Nixon administration (Langford, 2004: 73).
Previously, there had been tensions between the US and Israel over the latter’s
nuclear programme when President Johnson continued the pressure of his pre-
decessor President Kennedy in seeking to compel Israel to allow inspections of its
nuclear facilities and sign the NPT (Bahgat, 2007: 36). In response, Israel allowed
a small number of inspections but refused to sign the NPT. The US stance increas-
ingly relaxed after 1967 and the defeat of what was seen as the Soviet Union’s key
ally in the Middle East, Nasser’s Egypt. Since this point, Israel’s nuclear programme
has largely been accepted by successive US administrations, to the point where some
observers have called it an ‘off-limits subject for American foreign policy’ (Cohen
and Graham, 2004: 24).
During the 1970s and 1980s, Israel developed their clandestine nuclear capacity
at the Negev Nuclear Research Centre near the city of Dimona, before the highly
publicised outing of the programme by former nuclear technician Mordechai
Vananu to the British media in 1986. Vananu became alienated from the rationale
behind the nuclear programme after Israel’s attacks on Iraq’s Osiraq nuclear facil-
ity in 1981. This led Vananu to compile photographs and other evidence of Israel’s
nuclear programme, evidence that was published in 1986.
The rationale for Israel’s nuclear programme is much debated. Arguments range
from the use of Israel’s nuclear monopoly in the Middle East as a combination of
deterrence, a negotiating tool and a means for giving Israel more strategic autonomy
(Bahgat, 2007: 113). The combination of these factors strengthens Israel’s bargain-
ing position with its neighbours, particularly Syria, in regard to potential future
peace negotiations. Central to this has been the stance on the part of successive
Israeli administrations since the 1960s that Israel should possess a nuclear monop-
oly in the Middle East, a policy supported by the US since 1979. As is outlined
below, the US had actively supported the development of an Iranian nuclear pro-
gramme under the regime of the Shah up to this point. In this regard, the discovery
of the Iranian nuclear programme in 2002 has seen some change in the policy of
‘deliberate ambiguity’.
Mordechai Vananu’s report on Israel’s nuclear programme was published by The

Sunday Times in London in 1986, documenting the construction of thermonuclear
weapons estimated today to consist of an arsenal of between 100 and 200 warheads
with complementary short-, medium- and long-range delivery capacity (Langford,
2004: 73). Vananu was subsequently kidnapped by Mossad in Rome in late 1986 and
returned to Israel where he was convicted of treason in 1988. After 11 years in solitary
confinement and six years in general confinement, Vananu was released in 2004 with
strict limitations, including a ban on leaving Israel and on talking to any media outlet.
Speaking on German television on 12 December 2006, former Israeli Prime

Minister Olmert declared that Iran was a danger to regional security because of its
assertion that Israel should be eliminated, and therefore should not be judged along
with other nuclear states such as ‘America, France, Israel, [and] Russia’ (Verter,
2006). This was the first time an Israeli leader had declared Israel a nuclear state,
and the move was criticised by many within the country. In particular, critics argued
that Olmert’s statement, deliberate or not, overstepped the mark and potentially
opened the door to giving Iran and other regional states a rationale for accelerating
their nuclear programmes.
Beerševa Arad
DIMONA
J
O
R
D
A
Micpe N
EGYPT
Ramon S
K
O
Figure 7.4 Site of the Dimona nuclear facility
Iran’s Nuclear Programme: Peaceful or Aggressive?
Abdul Qadeer (A.Q.) Khan is a Pakistani nuclear scientist who headed Pakistan’s nuclear
programme from 1983 to 2001. From his position, Khan is alleged to have sold key nuclear
technology and expertise to a number of states, including Iran, North Korea and Libya.
As mentioned above, Iran has a long history of seeking nuclear technology, dating
from the 1950s and 1967 as part of the US government’s ‘Atoms for Peace’ pro-
gramme. This led to the opening of Iran’s first nuclear energy reactor, supplied by
the US, in 1967 as well as Iran signing the NPT in 1968. As with recent controver-
sies around Iran’s nuclear programme, this early programme also courted options of
upgrading from nuclear energy to a nuclear weapons programme, with the Shah’s
government seeking to acquire enrichment technology that would give it the option
of moving in this direction in the future.
The 1979 Islamic Revolution saw Iran’s nuclear programme having brief hiatus
before resumption in the 1980s when Iraq’s own nuclear programme was revealed.
However, this programme was hindered due to the collapse of US–Iranian rela-
tions after 1979 as the bulk of existing nuclear technology in the country was
US-supplied, with additional French and German assistance. As a consequence, the

Islamic Republic moved towards developing an indigenous nuclear programme, as
well as seeking assistance from Russia, China and Pakistan (Bahgat, 2007: 21–2).
Here, Russia became a key player in the Iranian nuclear programme, helping
to finish construction of the nuclear facility at Bushehr by the end of the 1990s,
despite US pressure to halt all assistance to Iran. It was at this time that the key
themes around the Iranian nuclear programme emerged that still define the debate
today. Simply put, Iran has argued that its programme is legal under the NPT and
International Atomic Energy Agency (IAEA) guidelines, whilst the US and oth-
ers, particularly Israel, argue that Iran has no intention of limiting itself to peaceful
nuclear technology, and that the nuclear energy programme is a stepping-stone
to the eventual acquisition of nuclear weapons. For Israel, this is an unacceptable
development as they see a nuclear-armed Iran as an existential threat to their state.
In order to be used for both peaceful (energy) and weapons purposes, uranium must
be enriched. There are four grades of enrichment: reprocessed uranium (RepU),
slightly enriched uranium (SEU, 0.9–2%), low-enriched uranium (LEU, 2–20%) and highly
enriched uranium (HEU, greater than 20%). Most modern nuclear weapons require HEU
of a grade of 85% or higher.
Enrichment is achieved through the separation of isotopes, a process that requires
the use of centrifuges. Higher levels of enrichment can be achieved through the use
of more powerful centrifuges.
Iranian claims to compliance with the NPT were undercut, however, in 2002 when
it was revealed that they had secretly begun construction on a uranium enrichment
facility at Natanz and a ‘heavy water’ facility at Arak (heavy water is used to stabilise
the fission process during the production of nuclear energy). Whilst signatories to
the NPT, like Iran, are required to allow the IAEA to access and inspect all nuclear
sites in the country to ensure that they are not being used for the production of
weapons-grade material, this only comes into effect after a plant has become active.
Israeli Prime Minister Netanyahu on the Iranian nuclear programme (9 March 2012):
The US is big and distant, Israel is smaller and closer to Iran, and – of course –
we have different capabilities. … So the American clock regarding preventing
nuclearisation of Iran is not the Israeli one. The Israeli clock works, obviously,
according to a different schedule. … The result has to be that the threat of a
nuclear weapon in Iran’s hands is removed.
Since this time, the Iranian nuclear programme has been a key strategic issue in the
Middle East, involving claims of clandestine nuclear enrichment, threats of unilateral
military intervention to destroy the programme and arguments that Iran has a sover-
eign right to produce this technology under the NPT. This emerged particularly after
the 10 November 2003 IAEA report that Iran was failing to meet its obligations in
terms of the transparency of its programme and subsequent tension over the ability of
IAEA inspectors to gain access and monitor facilities at Natanz and Arak.
As a result, Iran has found itself increasingly isolated, with the UN Security
Council passing Resolution 1696 on 31 July 2006 demanding a suspension of all
uranium enrichment. This was a particularly important event as it was passed under
Chapter VII of the UN Charter, making it legally binding on Iran and other states
that were involved in the country’s nuclear programme as well as facilitating sanc-
tions under Resolution 1737 of 23 December 2006. Since this time, the IAEA has
conducted a number of subsequent inspections, with a report in May 2012 revealing
that there was increased enrichment activity for energy use whilst detecting traces
of uranium enriched to 20%, well over the necessary limit for energy production but
still short of weapons-grade levels.
This substantiated the statements made by Iranian President Mahmoud
Ahmedinejad on 9 February 2010 that Iran had become a ‘nuclear state’, with ref-
erence to this enrichment ability for fuel production and for the use of enriched
uranium for medical purposes. However, the continued ambiguity over the
Research reactors
Uranium mine
Military site
Bonab
Ramsar Nuclear site
Tehran Parchin
Qom IRAN
Arak
Natanz
IRAQ
Isfahan Saghand
Yazd
Bushehr
Gachin
Figure 7.5 Iran’s key nuclear sites

intent of this programme continues, with the US and Israel continuing to push
for tighter sanctions, as well as leaving ‘all options on the table’ in terms of
their warnings that any move towards weapons-grade enrichment would lead to
unilateral military action.
Terrorism and Political Violence in the Middle East

Terrorism is a contested concept, one with political implications for those who are
the target of this designation. Indeed, most governments and international organ-
isations have their own official definitions, not to mention those held by analysts
and the broader community. This section will outline a brief definition of the con-
cept, the changing nature of terrorist ideologies (such as national liberation and
jihadist/neo-jihadist ideologies) and terrorist organisations in the Middle East,
before examining the details of the so-called ‘War on Terror’ in the Middle East
in the wake of al-Qaeda’s attacks on the United States on 11 September 2001.
Defining Terrorism
For the United Nations, the lack of an agreed-upon definition has revolved around
debate over what differentiates a terrorist organisation from, for instance, a national
liberation movement. Here, the 2004 Secretary-General’s High Level Panel Report
defined terrorism as an action that ‘is intended to cause death or serious bodily
harm to civilians or non-combatants, when the purpose of such act is to intimidate
a population, or to compel a government or an international organisation to do or
to abstain from doing any act’ (United Nations, 2004: 52). This is a comprehensive
definition, but one that leaves a measure of ambiguity. This is particularly so in
terms of clarification regarding whether a state can be deemed to have committed
an act that falls within this definition – so-called state terrorism.
It is on this issue that the United Nations as a whole has not officially adopted
a definition such as that provided by the Secretary-General. Here, debate in the
General Assembly has centred on whether or not to include a reference to state
terrorism, particularly in relation to the Arab–Israeli conflict, and a reference to
national self-determination. As a result, the UN is guided by 12 international trea-
ties relating to various aspects of political violence such as financing, the movement
of peoples and goods, and the use of non-conventional weapons by non-state groups.
Consequently, much of the controversy and ambiguity surrounding the definition
of terrorism extend from the question of legitimacy or, more specifically, legitimate
force. This can be understood in the language around the use of violence by states
and terrorist organisations. In particular, states employ legitimate violence, or force,
through institutions such as the military, police forces or intelligence services. By

contrast, the violence employed by terrorist organisations is considered illegitimate
as it is outside state-sanctioned bounds.
Understanding terrorism may be further enhanced by looking at it as a form
of ‘political altruism’. Whilst this may seem like a peculiar, even misplaced, phrase
to use in relation to those who perpetrate political violence, it is a useful concept
to differentiate these movements from other groups who use violence to achieve
ends, such as criminal organisations. The altruistic element of these movements
refers to their motivations where violence is used to achieve a greater aim that, in
the minds of these organisations at least, will benefit a broader community. That is,
these groups see themselves as working for a greater political good.
Definitions of Terrorism
US Department of Defense: ‘the calculated use of unlawful violence or threat of unlawful
violence to inculcate fear; intended to coerce or to intimidate governments or societies
in the pursuit of goals that are generally political, religious, or ideological’.
UK government: ‘the use or threat, for the purpose of advancing a political, religious or ide-
ological cause, of action which involves serious violence against any person or property’.
George Washington University Professor Walter Reich: ‘a strategy of violence designed

to promote desired outcomes by instilling fear in the public at large’.
Georgetown University Professor Bruce Hoffman: ‘the deliberate creation and exploita-
tion of fear through violence or the threat of violence in the pursuit of political change’.
ICJ Justice Rosalyn Higgins: ‘a term without any legal significance. It is merely a
convenient way of alluding to activities, whether of states or of individuals widely
disapproved of and in which either the methods used are unlawful, or the targets
protected or both.’
Violence is employed by organisations in different ways for specific ends. For

instance, terrorist organisations can employ forms of ‘mass terrorism’ through acts
of indiscriminate social violence, ‘random terrorism’ such as plane hijacking, or more
‘focused terrorism’ such as attacks on military sites or targeted assassinations. Here,
the violence itself is aimed at a number of targets, including those who are direct
victims of the violence, the general public where groups seek to shift and polarise
political views, the media where coverage of the violence is critical and governments
who are the targets of terrorist demands.
Thus, terrorism is a phenomenon that is broader than the act of violence itself.
It requires the media for publicity in order to polarise opinion, pushing those not
in support away from the movement and its ideology as well as consolidating a
community of support around its message. As we shall see below, this polarisation
also involves the implementation of harsh security measures by the state, further
sharpening divisions and heightening tensions.
Terrorist Ideologies
Turning back to the discussion on defining terrorism, an important part of under-
standing these movements is that they do not operate in a vacuum. Putting aside
judgements on how these groups rationalise their actions, it is important to recog-
nise how they employ ideological justifications for their violence. In particular, these
ideologies are critical in generating a community of support for these movements,
communities that provide necessary legitimacy as well as the more practical ele-
ments of safe havens and supplies.
The trajectory of ideologies motivating terrorism and political violence in the
Middle East has mirrored the broader shift in ideological forces in the Middle East
as outlined in Chapter 8. Specifically, there has been a move away from political
violence employed for nationalist motivations towards actions inspired by religious
motivations. Here, we shall outline this shift in terms of the changing fortunes of
the ideological foundations of ‘national liberation’ and ‘Third Worldism’ to that of
‘jihadism’ and ‘neo-jihadism’.
Frantz Fanon, born in the French colony of Martinique in 1925, became a leading
thinker of the anti-colonial movement from the 1940s. He was active in the Algerian
War of Independence against the French from 1954 to 1962. His most famous works
include Black Skin, White Masks (1952), A Dying Colonialism (1959) and The Wretched
of the Earth (1961). In The Wretched of the Earth, Fanon argued:
The naked truth of decolonisation evokes for us the searing bullets and blood-
stained knives which emanate from it. For if the last shall be first, this will only
come to pass after a murderous and decisive struggle between the two protago-
nists. That affirmed intention to place the last at the head of things, and to make
them climb at a pace (too quickly, some say) the well-known steps which char-
acterize an organized society, can only triumph if we use all means to turn the
scale, including, of course, that of violence. … The violence which has ruled over
the ordering of the colonial world, which has ceaselessly drummed the rhythm for
the destruction of native social forms and broken up without reserve the systems
of reference of the economy, the customs of dress and external life, that same
violence will be claimed and taken over by the native at the moment when, decid-
ing to embody history in his own person, he surges into the forbidden quarters. To
wreck the colonial world is henceforward a mental picture of action. (1961: 37–9)
National Liberation
National liberation movements are those that justify actions based on claims to
national self-determination. Whilst the goal of these movements has been one
of independence, through the period of decolonisation there was an ideologi-
cal gravitation towards particular critiques of imperialism and models of what
the state should represent upon independence. This ideology was heavily influ-
enced by Marxist ideology, often with the active support of the Soviet Union
during the Cold War. Soviet support was important, but there are important
distinctions in terms of ideology. Robert Malley defines this as an ideology
of ‘Third Worldism … the belief in the revolutionary aspirations of the Third
World masses, in the inevitability of their fulfilment, and in the role of strong,
centralised states in this undertaking’ (Malley, 1996: 2). This was an all-en-
compassing worldview that tied national independence to a throwing off of the
shackles of imperialism, hence national liberation.
This was an ideology that was global in scope, with movements from Central and
South America, Asia, Sub-Saharan Africa and the Middle East and North Africa.
Perhaps the clearest example of a national liberation movement in the region was
the National Liberation Front (Front de Libération Nationale, FLN) that fought the
French in Algeria from 1954 to 1962, in addition to liberation movements amongst
the Zionist groups, then the Palestinians and activists in the Western Sahara (out-
lined above).
National liberation movements have employed a range of tactics, from guerrilla
warfare and attacks on military facilities to the targeting of civilian populations
through bombings and other actions. Here, these different tactics are designed to
cause different reactions, whether as an effort to display the vulnerability of the
colonial or state authority such as the 1946 bombing of the headquarters of the
British Mandate authority in Palestine at the King David Hotel in Jerusalem by
the Zionist Irgun organisation (see Chapter 3), or attacks on civilian targets such as
the Palestine Liberation Front’s 1985 hijacking of the Achille Lauro.
These movements have also traditionally been organised to avoid counter-
terrorism and counter-insurgency policies. Here, movements were structured in a
hierarchy where a member of a ‘cell’ would only be in contact with members imme-
diately above and below. This was designed to prevent military authorities from
being able to uncover all the members of the organisation should one of them fall
into custody. However, such ‘cellular hierarchy’ structures could be deconstructed
by state intelligence agencies through the use of torture and other coercive means.
However, there have been numerous instances of the success of these movements,
particularly through their infiltration of key government institutions, notably the
military. This was a prominent theme during the 1950s and 1960s in the Arab
states, where national liberation ideologies and movements were able to topple
pro-Western monarchies as well as colonial authorities through military coups,

leading to the installation of so-called ‘radical’ nationalist regimes (see Chapter 8).
Jihadism and Neo-Jihadism

As was previously mentioned, the broader ideological shifts across the region from
nationalist to Islamist ideologies have been reflected in the influence and prevalence
of militant organisations based on Islamist ideologies. This particular manifesta-
tion of Islamist ideology as justification for political violence can perhaps be better
understood as ‘jihadism’ or ‘neo-jihadism’.
Chapter 4 provided an outline of jihad, including the controversial element of
jihad bis saif ( jihad of the sword) as part of other understandings and applications
of the concept ( jihad of the heart/jihad bil qalb, jihad of the tongue/jihad bil lisan,
and jihad of the hand/jihad bil yad ). In addition, this discussion of jihad found its
articulation through the work of thinkers such as Sayyid Qutb, in particular as an
attempt to justify the use of violence as a defensive measure.
This ideology influenced earlier jihadist movements, such as Egypt’s Islamic
Jihad, the group responsible for the assassination of President Anwar Sadat in 1981
led by prominent al-Qaeda member Ayman al-Zawahiri. Here, jihadist movements
active in the Middle East during the 1980s were focused primarily on attacking
regional regimes as symbolic of defending local Muslim communities from abuses
of power and what they saw as deviations from the path towards a realisation of a
‘true’ Islamic society.
The more recent manifestations have exhibited trends towards a more simplistic
application of the concept, yet a more complex manifestation in terms of organisation
and structure. According to Lentini, this new manifestation is something differ-
ent from previous ideological motivations, and can be understood as neo-jihadism
(Lentini, 2008). This form is distinct in terms of its ‘multi-dimensional and syncretic’
nature, where violence is justified ‘through highly selective and literalist (often incor-
rect) interpretations of sacred texts’ (Lentini, 2008: 3). It has political aims in seeking
to establish an Islamic community governed by the understanding of Islamic law
advocated by the various spokespeople active within neo-jihadist movements.
The core religious concept within neo-jihadist movements is jihad. Here, this
interpretation reinterprets the concept in a very literal sense to emphasise and ele-
vate the notion of violence as a means to defend Muslim communities against what
they see as a host of global and local threats. This understanding is grand in scope
in that it rejects distinctions between direct action and complicity on the part of
those it sees as its enemies. That is, citizens of countries deemed viable targets for
neo-jihadi violence are complicit in the policy choices of that country’s government,
therefore, viable targets themselves.
Its other main theological tenet is that of martyrdom, also reinterpreted, again
literally, to mean sacrificing one’s life for the cause of the global jihad. It removes
any reference to the idea of martyrdom and, indeed, jihad, as giving a life of ser-
vice to the faith. Instead, it is focused on the sacrifice of the physical self for the
political cause.
As is discussed below, the clearest manifestation of this ideology can be found
in the various writings and proclamations associated with al-Qaeda and its affili-
ates. Here, Betz highlights four key points that characterise this worldview:
(1) Islam is under an unjust attack from the West led by the United States work-
ing through proxies such as Israel and regional (i.e. friendly Arab/Muslim)
regimes; (2) the neo-jihadis are defending the Muslim world from these attacks;
(3) the actions taken by neo-jihadis are defensive and, therefore, proportionally
and religiously justified; and (4) it is the duty of all Muslims to support these
attacks (2008: 520).
Middle Eastern Terrorist Organisations

Sub-state and trans-state terrorist organisations have been key features of the
security landscape of the Middle East and North Africa for many decades. Indeed,
the independence of many states, from Israel to Algeria, was achieved through
the actions of such movements. This section will outline a number of these move-
ments, with a particular focus on the Irgun during Israel’s War for Independence
and the Lebanese movement Hezbollah. This discussion is designed to outline
the history of these movements as well as highlight the varying interpretations of
these movements’ actions, depending on the communities that either support or
oppose their actions.
The Irgun
During the discussion of the establishment of the State of Israel in Chapter 3, there
was a brief discussion of the various militant groups involved in challenging British
rule. A key organisation involved in this was the Irgun Zevaui Leumi, or the Irgun.
This organisation drew heavily on the work of Zeèv Jabotinsky and ‘revisionist
Zionism’. Central to this ideology was the belief that not only should there be a
Jewish state, but that ‘every Jew had the right to enter Palestine; only active retalia-
tion would deter the Arabs; only Jewish armed force would ensure the Jewish state’
(Sachar, 2003: 265–6).
The cornerstone of the Irgun’s aims was the creation of a Jewish state in the
original boundaries of the British Mandate of Palestine from 1920 to 1923 that
covered the lands both west and east of the Jordan River (the latter forming the
future state of Jordan). In pursuit of this, the organisation argued that all means,
including violence against both the British and the Arab population, were valid
and necessary. This included the policy of ‘active defence’ of Jewish communities
during the 1936–9 Arab Revolt as well as the bombing of the King David Hotel in
Jerusalem in 1946. In addition, the organisation employed a public relations arm to
enlist popular support for their cause.
After the establishment of the State of Israel in 1948, the new government sought
to absorb all former militias into the new security structure of the state. Whilst
an initial agreement was reached, the movement continued its operations inde-
pendently of the new government’s authority, resulting in armed clashes between
members of the Irgun and the IDF. This peaked with an effort by the Irgun to
import arms aboard the ship the Altalena in June 1948. The IDF sank the ship off
the Israeli coast and arrested the bulk of the movement’s fighters, seeing the leadership
of the movement acquiesce to Israeli government authority.
However, whilst this might have seen the end of the movement, its members
and its ideology not only continued to be present within the Israeli political scene,
but have in many ways become dominant. In particular, the leadership of the Irgun,
including future Prime Minister Menachem Begin, founded the Herut Party in
1948, the forerunner to the Likud Party that has dominated Israeli politics since
the 1990s.
Hezbollah
Along with the discussion of political violence amongst early Zionist groups,
Chapter 3 also outlined the founding of Lebanon’s Hezbollah in 1982. Established
after the Israeli invasion of Lebanon in 1982 in the context of the Lebanese Civil
War and with active support from the Islamic Republic of Iran, the movement’s
initial aim was the removal of Israeli forces followed by the establishment of a Shià
Islamic Republic in Lebanon.
From its beginning, the movement conducted large-scale terrorist attacks against
IDF soldiers in Lebanon as well as against US targets, including the bombing of the
US Embassy and the US Marines barracks in Beirut in 1983. A key tactic employed
by the movement in these and other attacks was the use of suicide bombings as well
as kidnappings and rocket attacks. As with the Irgun, after the end of the civil war
the movement took on a more explicitly political role. However, unlike the Irgun,
it has managed to maintain its militia, which is used in confrontation with Israel
as well as domestically. As outlined in Chapter 3, Lebanon has an electoral system
based on confessional quotas. Here, Hezbollah became an active participant in the
Lebanese electoral system as early as 1992, successfully challenging the Amal Party
that had previously monopolised the Shià vote.
Importantly, Lebanon’s postwar settlement, the Taeif Agreement, contained

explicit provisions that have facilitated the ability of Hezbollah to act in its dual
role as political participant in Lebanon, forming coalition governments and supply-
ing social services, as well as maintaining an armed wing separate to the Lebanese
state. Specifically, whilst the Taeif Agreement calls for the disarming of all mili-
tias, it contains provisions relating to the necessity of ‘liberating Lebanon from
Israeli occupation’. Israeli withdrawal from Lebanon was further enshrined in UN
Security Council Resolutions 425 (1978), 508 (1982) and 509 (1982).
Whilst Israel formally withdrew from southern Lebanon in May 2000, it con-
tinues to occupy the 25 square-kilometre Shebaà farms district in southeastern
Lebanon. This territory, internationally recognised as part of Syria, was occupied by
Israel after the June 1967 war along with the Golan Heights. The Lebanese gov-
ernment’s claim to sovereignty over the farms district with Syrian complicity can
be seen as a way to assert that Israel has not fully complied with Security Council
Resolutions 425, 508 and 509, even after their withdrawal from the south of the
country. This gives Hezbollah tacit exemption from the disarmament called for in
the Taeif Agreement as they can claim to be acting to remove Israeli occupation.
The continued confrontation between Hezbollah and Israel peaked in July 2006
when the movement attacked an Israeli border patrol, killing three IDF soldiers
and taking two hostages. In response, the Olmert administration launched large-
scale air strikes and artillery bombardments across Lebanon, leading to over 1300
Lebanese casualties and wholesale destruction of Lebanon’s infrastructure. Whilst
Israel did not achieve its stated aims of destroying the movement, the Lebanese
government under Prime Minister Fouad Siniora approved the adoption of UN
Security Council Resolution 1701, which included, amongst other tenets, the full
disarmament of all militias including Hezbollah (Norton, 2007).
After this, domestic tensions in Lebanon saw political deadlock emerge through
2007 and 2008, resulting in suspension of the government and eventual fighting on the
streets of Beirut involving Hezbollah fighters by May 2008. These tensions were based
on the split within the Lebanese political system that emerged after the February 2005
assassination of former Prime Minister Rafiq al-Hariri. Al-Hariri’s assassination led
to massive international pressure for the withdrawal of the Syrian troops that had
remained in Lebanon from their initial intervention in the country in 1976. The vio-
lence of May 2008 saw all major groups sign the so-called Doha Agreement that
ended the political deadlock. Whilst Hezbollah and their ‘March 8 coalition’ remained
in opposition, they gained a veto over all major government decision-making. As such,
despite the Lebanese government being bound by the provisions of Security Council
Resolution 1701 for the disarmament of all militias, including Hezbollah, the move-
ment can veto any move to that end, leaving them as a virtual ‘state within a state’.
Rachaiya el Foukbar
he
Kfar Hamam Chebaa
el
ba
Y E T
a
Naiu
Kfar Hamam
1974
Meri
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∆ 489 Helta 1530 ∆
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ss
LEBANON
Aa
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i
ad
SYRIA
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320 ∆ 1200 ∆
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on
Sr
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Figure 7.6 The Sheba` a farms
The Middle East and the ‘War on Terror’

As we can see, the issue of sub-state and trans-state political violence has been an
important feature of the Middle Eastern security landscape since the period of
independence. However, it was the attacks on the United States on 11 September
2001 that saw the issue of terrorism take centre stage. Whilst the major impact
of this has arguably been the 2003 US-led invasion and occupation of Iraq (see
Chapter 10), there have been a variety of other impacts on the region.
In particular, the US has been active in providing funding, training and intelli-
gence to a number of regional states under the banner of the ‘War on Terror’. Here,
US support for what were labelled ‘counter-terrorism’ programmes in states such as
Egypt, Saudi Arabia, Yemen, Jordan, Morocco and elsewhere has had contradictory
outcomes, with a rolling back of the capacity of many militant organisations in these
states but also a sharpening of tensions between Arab populations and their govern-
ments over exploitation of the post-9/11 environment. This will be explored below
in relation to Algeria; however, it is important to first discuss the links between the
perpetrators of the 11 September attacks, al-Qaeda, and the Middle East.
Al-Qaeda
The name ‘al-Qaeda’ literally means ‘the base’, and it was given to the movement
after it conducted the 1998 bombings against the US embassies in Kenya and
Tanzania. The organisation emerged from the so-called ‘Services Office’, an agency
active in recruiting Muslims across the world to fight against the Soviet Union
after their invasion of Afghanistan in 1979. The key figures in the founding of the
movement were the Saudi Osama bin Laden and the Palestinian Abdullah Azzam.
Bin Laden was the chief financier whilst Azzam provided the ideology for the
movement’s jihad against the Soviet army.
Osama bin Laden, former leader of al-Qaeda, came from the wealthy bin Laden
family of Saudi Arabia. The bin Laden family are owners of the Saudi Binladin Group, a
conglomerate company that includes oil and finance wings as well as comprising the
world’s largest construction company, with a total net worth of over $5 billion.
There were early links between the organisation and the US as, first, the Carter
then the Reagan administration supplied funding, intelligence and, later, arms to
the anti-Soviet mujahedin forces that included those who would form al-Qaeda.
It is important to recognise here the diversity of opposition to the Soviets in
Afghanistan in the 1980s, with those rallying around bin Laden and Azzam
predominantly from outside Afghanistan. By the time of the Soviet withdrawal
from Afghanistan in 1988–9, bin Laden had formalised his control over the
organisation under the banner of the ‘International Front for Jihad against the
Jews and Crusaders’. This new organisation began to expand its operations
into Indian-controlled Kashmir and other areas. However, it was events in the
Middle East that would see the organisation fully articulate its jihadist ideology
as well as direct the focus of its operations against regimes in the region as well
as the US.
‘Operation Desert Storm’ was the multinational military operation based on UN Security
Council Resolution 678 (1990) authorising the use of force to remove Iraq from Kuwait.
In total, 956,600 troops were stationed in Saudi Arabia during the conflict, with the
largest numbers coming from the United States (697,000), Saudi Arabia (100,000), the
United Kingdom (45,400), Egypt (33,600), France (14,600), Syria (14,500) and Morocco
(13,000).
On 2 August 1990 Iraq invaded its neighbour Kuwait, based on Iraqi territorial
claims over Kuwait that stretched back to the founding of the Iraqi state in 1932.
Iraq’s invasion came on the back of their devastating war with Iran from 1980 to
1988 (see Chapter 3), which resulted in Iraq becoming heavily indebted to the
oil-producing states of the Gulf. The Iraqi regime was not looked on kindly by
bin Laden and his organisation, being seen as part of the broader ‘infidel’ socialist
movement that had weakened the Islamist cause across the Middle East.
In addition, bin Laden saw the Iraqi invasion as a threat to the security of the
Holy Cities of Mecca and Medina within Saudi Arabia. In response, bin Laden
offered to the Saudi regime the deployment of the mujahedin in protection of the
Holy Cities and, by extension, the Saudi state. However, the Saudis refused, opting
instead for the deployment of over 500,000 US and other troops, first in defence
of Saudi Arabia and then, in 1991, in the removal of the Iraqi army from Kuwait.
In response, bin Laden openly called for the overthrow of the Saudi regime and
increasingly turned his attention to the US as the key supporters of what he now
called ‘apostate regimes’ (Riedel, 2010).
From 1992 to 1996, bin Laden and the leadership core of al-Qaeda operated
with relative freedom from their base in Sudan’s capital Khartoum. The organisa-
tion had appeared on the radar of US intelligence as a terrorist organisation as
well as being targeted by Egyptian, Saudi and allegedly US intelligence services
for assassination. This led to bin Laden returning to Afghanistan in 1996 under
the protection of the Taleban regime that had seized power earlier that year, where
he planned and sought financing for a range of terrorist operations, including the
attacks on the United States on 11 September 2001 (Soufan, 2011).
The Al-Qaeda ‘Franchise’ Dynamic

Whilst the ramifications of these attacks for regional politics, in terms of the ‘War
on Terror’, are outlined below, events since 2001 have also seen a dramatic change
in the forms that trans-state terrorism and political violence have taken. In par-
ticular, there has been what some have called a ‘franchising’ dynamic, whereby the
al-Qaeda ideology has been taken up by existing organisations or led to the creation
of new organisations across the region.
Al-Qaeda affiliates include:
♦♦ Egyptian Islamic Jihad (Egypt), active since the late 1970s, merged with al-Qaeda in 2001
♦♦ Al-Qaeda in Iraq (Iraq), affiliated with al-Qaeda from 2003
♦♦ Al-Qaeda in the Islamic Maghreb (Algeria, Mali, Mauritania, Morocco, Niger and
Tunisia), affiliated with al-Qaeda from 2003
♦♦ East Turkestan Islamic Movement (Xinjiang, China), affiliated with al-Qaeda from 2006
♦♦ Libyan Islamic Fighting Group (Libya), active since the early 1990s, affiliated with
al-Qaeda from 2007 to 2009
♦♦ Al-Qaeda in the Arabian Peninsula (Yemen and Saudi Arabia), affiliated with al-
Qaeda from 2009
For instance, after the US-led invasion and occupation of Iraq in 2003 (see
Chapter 10), ostensibly as part of the War on Terror, an organisation calling itself
al-Qaeda in Iraq (or tanzim qaidat al-jihad fi bilad al rafidayn, ‘Organisation of
Jihad’s Base in the Country of the Two Rivers’) was founded by Jordanian mili-
tant Abu Musab al-Zarqawi. Whilst never a popular movement, lacking the critical
domestic community of support, this organisation conducted a range of attacks
against both US and Coalition forces in Iraq as well as against Shià and other
communities in the country under a broad al-Qaeda banner.
In addition, a new group emerged in 2003 out of the various Islamist groups
that had been active during Algeria’s long-running civil war, a conflict that had
claimed over 200,000 lives since 1990. Calling itself al-Qaeda in the Islamic
Maghreb (tanzim al-qaìdah f i bilad al-maghrib al-Islami), this group formed
around so-called ‘rejectionist’ elements of previous groups such as the Salafist
Group for Preaching and Combat as well as the Armed Islamic Group, them-
selves derivatives of the earlier Islamic Salvation Front (FIS). The FIS had won
municipal and legislative elections in Algeria in the late 1980s, victories that
were cancelled by a military coup leading to the outbreak of conflict. By the early
2000s, the new al-Qaeda-linked organisation had widened its attacks across the
borders to target government sites in Mali, Mauritania, Morocco, Niger and
Tunisia as well as in Algeria.
Osama bin Laden was killed in Pakistan on 2 May 2011 by members of a US Naval
Special Warfare Development Group (Navy SEALs). He was found in a residential
compound in the city of Abbottabad, a garrison city 100 kilometres from the capital
Islamabad. Whilst the Pakistani government denied sheltering bin Laden, intense con-
troversy remains as to the connections between Pakistan and organisations such as
al-Qaeda, the Taleban in Afghanistan, Lashkar-e-Toiba in Kashmir and other groups.
Finally, many within Western intelligence and analyst circles have turned their
attention to al-Qaeda in the Arabian Peninsula (al-qaìdah fi jazirat alàrab) as
the most active and potentially dangerous contemporary trans-state terrorist
organisation. Formed by American-born Yemeni Anwar al-Awlaki in 2009, the
organisation has undertaken a string of attacks against Yemeni, Saudi and US
targets, leading the US, particularly under the Obama administration, to introduce
drone strikes on the bases of these groups, a highly controversial policy that some
allege has increased the militancy of this group and alienated Yemeni civilians due
to the civilian casualties associated with this tactic (Soufan, 2011).
US Counter-Terrorism Policy in the Middle East

Response to al-Qaeda and al-Qaeda-inspired groups has been multifaceted.
Alongside direct military interventions, the US has also been active in supporting
regional regimes in their own security operations. However, this has drawn much
criticism in terms of allowing states to increase their control over opposition forces
at the expense of political liberalisation. Despite this, both the US and regional ben-
eficiaries of US support maintain that these activities are necessary in combating
these forms of militant Islamism. Here, we shall outline one example of this – in
Algeria – where the US has actively supported the Algerian counter-terrorism cam-
paign in the wake of a brutal civil war in the country.
The US and the Algerian Civil War

The Algerian Civil War broke out in 1992 after the cancellation of the nascent elec-
toral process in January of that year. The conflict emerged at the end of a tumultuous
period of civil unrest followed by hasty, ill-defined political reform. The domination
of Algerian politics by the single-party regime of the National Liberation Front
(FLN), since the end of French rule in 1962, laid the foundations of an increasingly
unrepresentative and dysfunctional political and economic system.
The fragility of the Algerian state was fully exposed when anti-government
‘bread riots’ broke out in October 1988 in scenes strikingly similar to those that
would emerge with the ‘Arab Spring’ after 2010 (see Chapter 9). Initially disorgan-
ised, these protests turned violent, leading to government forces killing 159 people
by the end of the month. Popular criticism of this heavy-handed approach led the
regime to announce a series of political reforms, including an opening of the politi-
cal system for municipal, national legislative and presidential elections from 1989
to 1991.
By the time the first round of municipal elections was held in June 1989, a new
political force had emerged on the Algerian political scene. The Islamic Salvation
Front (Front Islamique du Salut, FIS) had come to the fore, taking 55% of the vote.
This was replicated in the first round of legislative elections held in December 1991,
with the FIS claiming 188 of the 231 seats on offer. In response, the military inter-
vened, cancelling the elections and annulling the election results, dismissing the
government, and installing a military-backed transitional government in January
1992 (Kouaouci, 2004: 32).
After the events of 1992, the security situation in Algeria rapidly deteriorated,
with the FIS and the regime engaging in a series of violent confrontations. This
marked the start of a spiral of violence that would consume all elements of Algerian
political, social and economic life by the mid-1990s, when the conflict moved beyond
limited engagements to direct violence and the targeting of citizens, allegedly by
both sides (Slisli, 2000: 44; Joffé, 2002: 4). This violence would lead to an estimated
200,000 civilian deaths between 1992 and 2000 as well as allegations of government
involvement in a number of atrocities (Souaïdia, 2001).
Allegations of government involvement in the violence against civilians were
particularly controversial. These centred on events during 1996 and 1997 where
the government claimed the Armed Islamic Group (GIA) conducted a number of
massacres in villages south of the capital Algiers. However, according to a number
of accounts, the government was active in either allowing these attacks to take place
or were involved in the violence itself as a means to justify the continued closure of
the political system.
The US, alongside the majority of the international community, paid little atten-
tion to the ongoing violence in Algeria as it raged throughout the 1990s. When
statements were made, they oscillated between condemnations of the violence and
arguments that this was a domestic security issue to be handled by the Algerian
authorities. However, after 11 September 2001, the US–Algerian security rela-
tionship became much closer (MacQueen, 2006). This was based on joint security
initiatives, such as the 2002 Pan-Sahel Initiative (PSI) and the 2005 Trans-Sahara
Counterterrorism Initiative (TSCTI).
The core of these initiatives involved both security training as well as funding
for the Algerian security services. In addition, the broader context of the War on
Terror allowed the government to increase the intensity of those operations. For
some, this has led to a worsening of the security situation that has prompted the
perpetuation of political violence in Algeria, and has seen this violence spill over the
border into neighbouring states, particularly Mauritania (Testas, 2004: 97). Indeed,
this is a situation mirrored in many regional states, including the controversy over
drone strikes in Yemen and Somalia, and support for government security measures
in Egypt, Morocco, Jordan and elsewhere. Alongside economic deterioration and
general social malaise, this harder line by regional regimes, and an exploitation of a
global environment defined by the War on Terror, contributed to the tensions and
discontent expressed after 2010 through the ‘Arab Spring’.
Conclusion
This chapter has demonstrated how security issues in the Middle East, as with most
issues in the region, are interrelated in complex ways. Whilst ‘conventional’ security
issues persist, particularly in terms of inter-state conflict, they also spill over into
controversies surrounding war crimes, humanitarian concerns and non-conventional
weapons. Indeed, as the cases of Darfur and Western Sahara highlight, territorial
concerns are overlaid with issues of war crimes and accusations of sub-state and
trans-state political violence. Indeed, questions over nuclear proliferation feed into
instability at the local, regional and global levels, a trend mirrored by the develop-
ment of trans-state terrorist organisations, such as al-Qaeda.
Study Questions
♦♦ What are the main ‘conventional’ security issues in the contemporary Middle
East?
♦♦ How important are territorial disputes in the regional security landscape?
♦♦ Why is nuclear proliferation a particularly important issue in the Middle East?
♦♦ How do Israel and Iran justify their respective nuclear programmes?
♦♦ What is ‘terrorism’ and how has it manifested itself in the Middle East?
♦♦ Are historic and contemporary forms of terrorism in the Middle East the same
phenomenon?
♦♦ What have been the impacts of the ‘War on Terror’ on the Middle East and
North Africa?
Further Reading
Burke, Jason (2004) Al-Qaeda: The True Story of Radical Islam. New York: I.B. Tauris.
A compelling and detailed account of the emergence of al-Qaeda, highlighting the
origins of the movement and its ideology.
Chaliand, Gérard and Blin, Arnaud (2007) The History of Terrorism: From Antiquity
to al-Qaeda. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press.
A detailed and sharply analytical examination of the development of terrorism and
political violence, allowing the contextualisation of modern terrorist tactics and ideology.
Palmer Harik, Judith (2005) Hezbollah: The Changing Face of Terrorism. New York:
I.B. Tauris.
Palmer Harik’s volume provides a detailed examination of Lebanon’s Hezbollah
through examining the question of how to understand the various roles the
movement plays.
Roberts, Hugh (2003) The Battlefield, Algeria 1988–2002: Studies in a Broken Polity.
London: Verso.
One of the leading scholars on Algerian politics provides a compilation of the key
events in this country’s troubled history, allowing for a thorough overview of key
events in modern Algerian politics.

References
Ahmadi, Kouroush (2008) Islands and International Politics in the Persian Gulf: The
Abu Musa and Tunbs in Strategic Context. London: Routledge.
Bahgat, Gawdat (2007) Proliferation of Nuclear Weapons in the Middle East.
Gainesville, FL: University of Florida Press.
Betz, David (2008) ‘The Virtual Dimension of Contemporary Insurgency and
Counter Insurgency’, Small Wars and Insurgencies, 19(4): 510–40.
Cohen, Avner and Graham, Thomas Jr (2004) ‘WMD in the Middle East: A
Diminishing Currency’, Disarmament Diplomacy, 76.
Fanon, Frantz (1961) The Wretched of the Earth. New York: Grove Press.
Jensen, Erik (2011) Western Sahara: Anatomy of a Stalemate? Boulder, CO: Lynne
Rienner.
Joffé, George (2002) ‘The Role of Violence within the Algerian Economy’, Journal
of North African Studies, 7(1): 1–20.
Kouaouci, Ali (2004) ‘Population Transitions, Youth Unemployment, Postponement
of Marriage and Violence in Algeria’, Journal of North African Studies, 9(2): 28–45.
Langford, R. Everett (2004) Introduction to Weapons of Mass Destruction: Radiological,
Chemical, and Biological. Hoboken, NJ: Wiley-Interscience.
Lentini, Peter (2008) ‘The Transference of Neojihadism: Towards a Process Theory
of Transnational Radicalisation’, in Sayed Khatab, Muhammad Bakashmar and
Ela Orgu (eds) Radicalisation Crossing Borders: New Direction in Islamist and
Jihadist Political, Intellectual, and Theological Thought in Practice, International
Conference, Melbourne, Victoria, Australia.
MacQueen, Benjamin (2006) ‘Islamism in Algeria and America’s Global Campaign’,
in Fethi Mansouri and Shahram Akbarzadeh (eds) Political Islam and Human
Security. Newcastle: Cambridge Scholars Publishing, pp. 181–200.
Malley, Robert (1996) The Call from Algeria: Third Worldism, Revolution, and the
Turn to Islam. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press.
Norton, Augustus Richard (2007) Hezbollah: A Short History. Princeton, NJ:
Peres, Shimon (1986) ‘Testimony at the Trial of Mordechai Vananu’.
Prunier, Gérard (2008) Darfur: A 21st Century Genocide. Ithaca, NY: Cornell
University Press.
Riedel, Bruce O. (2010) The Search for Al Qaeda: Its Leadership, Ideology, and Future.
Washington, DC: Brookings Institution Press.
Sachar, Howard M. (2003) A History of Israel: From the Rise of Zionism to Our Time.
New York: Knopf.
Slisli, Fouzi (2000) ‘The Western Media and the Algerian Crisis’, Race and Class,
41(3): 43–57.
Souaïdia, Habib (2001) La Sale Guerre. Paris: Éditions La Découverte.
Soufan, Ali H. (2011) The Black Banners: The Inside Story of 9/11 and the War Against
al-Qaeda. London: W.W. Norton and Company.
Testas, Abdelaziz (2004) ‘The United States’ Approach to Algeria’s Civil Conflict:
Implications for Democratization, Internal Peace and Anti-American Violence’,
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Sudan’; http://reliefweb.int/report/sudan/environmental-degradation-trigger-
ing-tensions-and-conflict-sudan
United Nations (2004) A More Secure World: Our Shared Responsibility. New York:
United Nations.
Verter, Yossi (2006) ‘Olmert: Iran Seeking to Develop Nuclear Bomb, “like America,
France and Israel”’, Haaretz, 12 December.
Zunes, Stephen and Mundy, Jacob (2010) Western Sahara: War, Nationalism and
Conflict Irresolution. Syracuse, NY: Syracuse University Press.
8
Authoritarianism
in the
Middle East
Learning Objectives
♦♦ How authoritarian regimes can be defined.

♦♦ The so-called ‘exceptionalism’ of authoritarianism in the Middle East since
independence.
♦♦ The multiple forms of authoritarian rule in the region.
♦♦ The means of political participation for citizens under authoritarian regimes.
♦♦ Case studies (Syria, Saudi Arabia, Iraq and Turkey) highlighting the various mecha-
nisms of authoritarian rule.
Introduction
The uprisings of the ‘Arab Spring’ have led to momentous change in the Middle East
since 2010. However, this change has come at the end of a period when the Middle
East was characterised by the stability of authoritarian regimes. Indeed, in the wake
of these uprisings, authoritarian governments remain the dominant feature of the
region. This chapter examines these regimes as the dominant form of rule in the
Middle East since independence. Here, we will discuss the notion of the Middle East
as an ‘exceptional’ region due to the persistence of these authoritarian regimes, partic-
ularly with the global spread of liberal democracy since the 1970s and 1980s. From
this, the chapter will seek an understanding of how authoritarian regimes display
different forms and operate in different ways. This will be discussed through a closer
examination of ‘republican authoritarianism’ in Syria from 1970 to 2000, the ‘absolute
monarchy’ in Saudi Arabia from 1953 to 1982, a ‘military-backed totalitarian regime’
in Iraq from 1979 to 1990, and a ‘hybrid regime’ in Turkey from 1953 to 1997.
Understanding Authoritarianism
Defining Authoritarianism
Authoritarianism can be defined as a political system in which a small group of indi-
viduals controls the state with minimal or no popular oversight. By contrast, liberal
democratic systems contain institutions and mechanics that allow the population to
exert control over those who are in positions of power through elections and define
what power they may exert through constitutions. Authoritarian states either lack
these features or, where elections and constitutions exist, they are without power.
That is, in broad terms, authoritarianism is a particular type of rule that limits
or prohibits direct and systematic input by the majority of the citizens in the affairs
of governance. This is in contrast to liberal democracy, which seeks to regulate and
limit the authority of those in power. This fits with the definition of authoritari-
anism offered by Juan Linz who focuses on authoritarianism as a system lacking
alternative political voices, without genuine popular legitimacy, and with authority
concentrated in the hands of a single person or small group of people (Linz, 2000).
Juan Linz’s (2000: 159) definition of authoritarianism:
Political systems with limited, not responsible, political pluralism, without elabo-
rate and guiding ideology, but with distinctive mentalities, without extensive nor
Authoritarianism in the Middle East 235
[sic] intensive political mobilisation, except at some points in their development,

and in which a leader or occasionally a small group exercises power within for-
mally ill-defined limits but actually quite predictable ones.
However, this broad definition requires greater attention to the complexity of

authoritarian rule. A useful starting point here is to clarify the difference between
a state and a government. A state is the set of institutions that governs a territory
where the state is the political entity and the nation is the cultural community that
it purports to represent. In addition, the government is the group of people who
control the institutions of the state. Therefore, governments can be classified by
how they administer these institutions, how separate these institutions are from
governments (i.e. how much independent integrity they possess), how responsive
they are to popular will, and whether their behaviour is regulated by a set of
formalised rules.
The presence of regulated institutions (constitutionalism and the rule of law)
and the degree of responsiveness to popular will (democracy) are intimately linked.
However, it is important to remember that the presence of regulatory institutions,
such as constitutions, elections and parliaments, does not necessarily denote the
presence of a democratic system. Indeed, closed political systems often possess such
institutions, which serve to either reinforce the legitimacy of an authoritarian gov-
ernment (‘electoral authoritarianism’) or work in conjunction with extra-judicial
constraints on popular control over the system (‘liberalised autocracies’, ‘illiberal
democracies’ or ‘hybrid regimes’).
Daniel Brumberg’s (2002: 56) definition of liberalised autocracy:
The trademark mixture of guided pluralism, controlled elections, and selective

repression in Egypt, Jordan, Morocco, Algeria, and Kuwait is not just a ‘survival
strategy’ adopted by authoritarian regimes, but rather a type of political system
whose institutions, rules, and logic defy any linear model of democratisation.
Indeed, authoritarian rule employs a variety of means to ensure its power. This
includes the use of coercive force, often arbitrarily, a centralisation of power, the
use of informal power such as ‘personality cults’, the arbitrary application of law
without constitutional constraints, the lack of a separation of powers between the
regime and the judiciary, no or minimal popular input in the selection of leaders,
no peaceful rotation of power, the suppression of individual and group rights and
a frequent use of privileging particular groups (ethnic or class groups) to divide

potential opposition. These more negative inducements are combined with others,
such as co-option, welfare programmes, employment programmes and populist
politics as part of the authoritarian design.
Authoritarianism and Ideology

Authoritarian regimes need not necessarily be linked to any specific ideology. In
conventional political terms, both ‘left-wing’ and ‘right-wing’ ideologies have pro-
duced many examples of authoritarian governments. In this regard, the presence
of an ideology can often push regimes towards authoritarian governance. That is,
the claims to be pursuing or defending certain ideological claims are employed to
justify the closure of political participation for the majority of the citizenry.
This is not always the case, however, with many examples of authoritarian rule,
including many in the Middle East, lacking a clear ideological motivation. As is
outlined below, this is often the case with many of the monarchical governments,
whose claims to absolute political power are based on the distribution of wealth
(primarily oil wealth) or other factors such as claims to legitimacy based on the
lineage of the royal family (such as the Hashemites).
Authoritarian Rule in the Middle East

Even counting the uprisings that have swept the region since 2010, the Middle
East, and more specifically the Arab world, has not experienced any region-wide
democratic reforms since the independence period. In this regard, authoritarianism
in the Middle East has been both resilient and diverse. For Mona el-Ghobashy, the
Middle East contains examples of almost all the forms of government we know,
from democracy to authoritarian regimes, with many sub-divisions (2010: 29–47).
This has given rise to a number of debates seeking to explain this persistence, as
well as to understand this diversity.
The ‘Authoritarian Exception’ in the Middle East

Before we examine the issue of diversity, the persistence and prevalence of authori-
tarianism in the region needs to be understood. This is a highly controversial debate,
particularly those sections of the discussion that focus on the Middle East as an
‘exceptional’ region because of its apparent authoritarian character. Touching back
on the themes discussed in Chapter 2, this has cultural overtones to it, particularly
in terms of a view that the region and its culture is somehow more prone to author-
itarian governance. This argument does not stand up to any analytical rigour as it
could be used to explain any political phenomenon, such as the prevalence of wars
in Western states through the 20th century (taking World War I and II as a starting
point) as well as the presence of authoritarian governments across the world up to
the 1970s and 1980s.
However, the presence of these regimes in the region and their longevity is an
issue that is worth discussing. An illustration of this can be found in the statis-
tics of Freedom House, the US-based analysis and advocacy group that releases its
annual ‘Freedom in the World’ report, documenting levels of political liberty. In
these reports, levels of freedom or the lack of freedom are measured to give states an
aggregate score out of 10, positioning them in the categories of ‘Free’, ‘Partly Free’
or ‘Not Free’. Based on statistics provided by Freedom House, from their inaugural
1973 report to the 2012 report, the number of ‘Free’ and ‘Partly Free’ states in the
Middle East and North Africa (MENA) region declined in the period between
1973 and 2011. This is in contrast to the rest of the world, particularly regions that
were newly independent or exhibited similar rates of authoritarian rule from the
mid-1970s.
The Freedom in the World reports from Freedom House, released annually since
1973, seek to measure political rights and civil liberties in all countries. Reports define
political rights as ‘electoral processes, political pluralism and participation, and function-
ing of government’ and civil liberties as ‘freedom of expression and belief, associational
and organisational rights, rule of law, and personal autonomy and individual rights’.
Freedom House analysts use these categories to rate each country out of 10,
aggregating the score from 1 (most free) to 7 (least free). The rated countries are then
divided between three categories of ‘Free’ states (1.0–2.5), ‘Partly Free’ states (3.0–5.0)
and states that are ‘Not Free’ (5.5–7.0).
In 1973, MENA had two states (Israel and Lebanon) rated as ‘Free’, three states
(Kuwait, Morocco and North Yemen) as ‘Partly Free’ and 14 states ‘Not Free’ (Turkey
is classified as part of Central/Eastern Europe and the former Soviet Union [CEE/
FSU] by Freedom House). This was in line with other regions such as CEE/FSU,
which lacked any ‘Free’ or ‘Partly Free’ states, and Sub-Saharan Africa (SSA), which
had three ‘Free’ and nine ‘Partly Free’ states. However, at each 10-year interval from
1973 to 2012, the number of ‘Free’ MENA states had fallen to one (Israel), with
an intermittent increase of ‘Partly Free’ states to eight in 1982 (Bahrain, Egypt,
Kuwait, Lebanon, Morocco, Qatar, Tunisia and the UAE) and 1992 (Algeria, Jordan
and Tunisia replaced Kuwait, Qatar and the UAE), with this number decreasing to
three in 2002 ( Jordan, Kuwait and Morocco) and four in 2011 (Kuwait, Lebanon,
Morocco and Tunisia).
This can be contrasted with the increase in ‘Free’ states in CEE/FSU, which
increased to eight in 1992, 11 in 2002 and 13 in 2012, and SSA, which increased to
eight in 1992 and nine in 2002 and 2012. In addition, the ‘Partly Free’ states in CEE/
FSU peaked at 15 in 1992 and declined to 10 in 2002 and nine in 2012, largely due
to the increase in ‘Free States’. In SSA, there has been a greater cluster of ‘Partly Free’
states, from 19 in 1992 to 25 in 2002 and 22 in 2012. In percentage terms, the MENA
region had by far the greatest percentage of states in the ‘Not Free’ category in 2012, at
72%. At the same time, CEE/FSU had 24% of states in this category (from 100% in
1973), SSA 35% (from 70% in 1973), the Asia-Pacific region 21% (from 36% in 1973),
the Americas 3% (from 15% in 1973) and Western Europe 0% (from 12% in 1973).
Whilst this paints a bleak picture of political freedom and participation in
the Middle East, these reports are not without their critics. For instance, the
metrics employed have been criticised for their assigning of a numerical value
to what may be argued is a subjective value of freedom. That is, freedom varies
according to context and perception, and may not be linked to the categories
of political rights and civil liberties used in the reports. In addition, the use of
numerical scores hides the nuance of political life in these regimes. Indeed, it does
not reflect the means by which people are active within authoritarian systems, or
the way particular groups survive and even benefit under this form of govern-
ance. In this regard, most recent scholarship has turned towards understanding
not just why authoritarianism persists in the region but how it functions; that is,
understanding the mechanics of authoritarian rule. By doing this, we can gain a
Table 8.1 Freedom House rankings of Middle Eastern and North African States
(1973–2012)
Free Partly Free Not Free
Number of Number of Number of

Year Countries* Percentage Countries Percentage Countries Percentage
2012 1 6.0 4 22.0 13 72.0

2002 1 5.0 3 17.0 14 78.0
1992 1 5.5 8 44.5 9 50.0
1982 1 5.0 8 42.0 10 53.0
1973 2 10.0 3 16.0 14 74.0
*
The number of states Freedom House incorporate from the Middle East and North Africa
region decreased from 19 to 18 in 1990 with the unification of North and South Yemen.
greater understanding of why citizens do not automatically rise up and challenge a

government that denies or limits their political voice. Here, it is critical to exam-
ine the mechanics of authoritarian rule in the Middle East.
The Mechanics of Authoritarian Rule

The presence of authoritarian governments does not necessarily mean no political
participation. As Holger Albrecht has argued, political participation ‘exists in every
political system, irrespective of whether it is democratic or authoritarian’ (2008: 15).
That is, an authoritarian system is not simply one of complete control by a regime
over a passive population. In the Middle East, political structures have revolved
around a number of key features, with some more prominent in certain states than
others. Here, we shall explore a number of these, including republican and monar-
chical authoritarianism, formal and informal participation in this environment, as
well as the dynamics of the social contract in the Middle East.
Republics and Monarchies

Previously, we outlined the various regime ‘types’ in the region. Republics are the
most common type of regime, with 12 of the 21 states falling into this category (13
counting the Palestinian Authority). During the Cold War, we have already seen
how there was a tendency to group these regimes together as ‘radical’ or ‘revolu-
tionary’. This reflected an imposed view of regional dynamics designed to fit with
global geopolitical trends and was not a label necessarily applicable to the way these
regimes conducted their domestic policies.
That is, these regimes continued many of the practices and policies inherited from
periods of Ottoman and colonial rule that were designed, first and foremost, to ensure
the continuation of their authority. There were some policies that aimed to change
some existing social, political and economic systems such as policies of land redistri-
bution or the nationalisation of large industries. However, as is outlined in the case
studies below, these were not thoroughgoing reforms that altered the way their socie-
ties were fundamentally structured. Indeed, where certain regimes introduced new
balances of power, such as the promotion of the interests and influence of the Alawi
and Christian communities in Syria, this was a mechanism of regime survival rather
than fundamental social restructuring. What was common to these regimes was the
intermittent use of nationalist ideology that oscillated between calls to pan-Arab alle-
giance or (including the non-Arab case of Turkey) to state-based allegiances.
In this regard, the governments of the region’s republics were often drawn
from non-traditional areas, whether this was geographic, ethnic or socioeconomic.
Consequently, they tended to employ state-led development programmes and
other mechanisms for developing allegiance amongst suspicious or hostile local

populations. Saying this, such policies were not limited to these types of states,
with monarchies also implementing these programmes as part of ‘modernisation’
processes. There were similarities between the types of policies pursued by both
authoritarian republics and monarchies in the Middle East to ensure and legitimate
their rule. The language of legitimation in monarchies did revolve more around
claims to historic legitimacy, particularly in ‘local’ dynasties such as Morocco or
Saudi Arabia and the Gulf. However, there were also ‘new’ dynastic regimes, such
as the Hashemites in Jordan and Iraq (before 1958) who pursued similar paths as
their counterparts in the republics.
On top of these broad trends, authoritarian regimes of all stripes have employed a
range of tactics to ensure their hold on power as well as benefit their supporters. These
have ranged from direct coercion to foreign policy and ideological claims, as well as
the exploitation of traditional social structures through patron–client relationships
and the effort to exploit the charisma of individuals through state propaganda.
Formal and Informal Political Participation

As a result, whilst there is a degree of political participation in authoritarian regimes in
the Middle East, this participation is only occasionally expressed through formal polit-
ical institutions. This can be contrasted with liberal democracies, where participation
in the political process is almost always conducted through formal, regulated institu-
tions such as political parties and elections through to trade unions and civil society
organisations. As we shall discuss below, formal institutions are present in authori-
tarian systems across the Middle East, yet they are not ‘as significant an influence on
political participation in these regimes as they are in democracies’ (Albrecht, 2008: 22).
Therefore, participation in authoritarian systems often occurs at the informal
level. That is, formal participation has been conventionally understood as being
conducted through institutions and organisations to directly shape or influence
the decision-making of regimes. On the other hand, informal participation is less
direct, serving a range of functions that may affect decision-making but also forms
a means for individuals and groups to ‘extract resources from the state, to further
personal interests, to voice and mobilise public opinion, to resist and oppose the
status political quo, [or] to exchange ideas on political, economic, and social issues’
(Alhamad in Lust-Okar and Zerhouni, 2008: 36).
Patron–Client Relationships
These ‘informal networks’ of political participation vary from region to region, and
state to state. Indeed, this is not a process unique to the Middle East. However, the
prevalence and persistence of authoritarianism in the region has made these forms
Table 8.2 Political and legal structures in the Middle East
Head of Legal
Country State Parliament Constitution Parties Suffrage System
Algeria President Yes: 1976 Yes, 18y/o+, Civil/

Bicameral, Partially universal Islamic Law
both restricted
elected
Bahrain King Yes: 2002 Yes, 20y/o+, Islamic/
Bicameral, Restricted universal Civil Law
upper house
appointed,
lower house
elected
Egypt President Yes: 2014 Yes 18y/o+, Civil/
Bicameral, universal Islamic Law
both elected
Iran Supreme Yes: 1979 Yes, 18y/o+, Islamic Law
Leader Unicameral, Restricted universal
elected
Iraq President Yes: 2005 Yes 18y/o+, Civil/
Unicameral, universal Islamic Law
elected
Israel President Yes: No Yes 18y/o+, Civil/
Unicameral, universal Religious
elected Law
Jordan King Yes: 1952 Yes, 18y/o+, Civil/
Bicameral, Restricted universal Islamic Law
upper
house
appointed,
lower house
elected
Kuwait Emir Yes: 1962 No 21y/o+, Civil/
elected and
appointed
Lebanon President Yes: 1926 Yes 21y/o+, Civil/
Unicameral, universal Religious
elected Law
(confessional
quotas)
Libya N/A Transitional 2011 (draft) N/A N/A N/A
(Continued)
Table 8.2 (Continued)
Head of Legal
Country State Parliament Constitution Parties Suffrage System
Morocco King Yes: 1972 Yes, 18y/o+, Civil/

Bicameral, Partially universal Islamic Law
upper house restricted
indirectly
elected, lower
house elected
Oman Sultan/ Yes: No No 21y/o+, Civil/
Prime Bicameral, universal Islamic Law
Minister upper house
appointed,
lower house
elected
Qatar Emir Yes: 2005 No 18y/o+, Civil/
elected and
appointed
Saudi King/Prime Yes: No No 21y/o+, Islamic Law
Arabia Minister Unicameral, male
appointed only
Sudan President Yes: 2005 (draft) Yes, 17y/o+, Islamic/
Bicameral, Partially universal Civil Law
upper house restricted
indirectly
elected, lower
house elected
Syria President Yes: 1973 Yes, 18y/o+, Civil/
Unicameral, Restricted universal Islamic Law
elected
Tunisia President Yes: 1959 Yes 18y/o+, Civil/
elected
Turkey President Yes: 1982 Yes, 18y/o+, Civil Law
Unicameral, Partially universal
elected restricted
UAE President/ Yes: 1971 No N/A Islamic/
Emir Unicameral, Civil Law
appointed
Yemen President Yes: 1991 Yes 18y/o+, Islamic/
Bicameral, universal Civil Law
upper house
appointed,
lower house
elected
of political activity particularly important. This importance is enhanced as these are

forms of participation that are indigenous to the region, and most often pre-date
the advent of the independent state. One way of understanding these networks
is through the concepts of clientelism and patronage. In this understanding, the
majority of the population serve as clients, whilst those in positions of power act
as patrons. Individuals or groups act as clients by establishing relationships with
patrons to extract specific things, whether this be employment, favourable treatment
in terms of judicial or business matters, or other issues. Thus, it is an asymmetric
or imbalanced relationship that is not constrained by the normal rule of law that
governs the behaviour of political leaders in liberal democracies.
For Nazih Ayubi, this is a dynamic that was entrenched in the Middle East
over centuries, but particularly during the Ottoman period when intermediaries
(a`yan) helped facilitate links between the public (al-àmma), or clients, and politi-
cal patrons (al-khassa) (Ayubi, 1999: 165). This pattern was repeated in the region
upon independence, with regimes using state resources to create these informal
relationships between individuals and social groups. Whilst this has generally been
a one-way relationship in which clients petitioned and patrons distributed largesse,
there was also a dynamic whereby the political elite had to ensure that this largesse
was distributed in such a way as to avoid unrest. Therefore, whilst there was not
any direct input into decision-making by client groups, the patron–client relation-
ship was an important part of the way non-democratic regimes ensured stability
and the status quo.
The ‘Social Contract’ in the Middle East

Where patron–client relationships are a key part of understanding authoritarian
dynamics in the Middle East, efforts at popular control and regulation of the politi-
cal system have also been deflected and managed through what is often described as
the Middle East ‘social contract’. The notion of social contract relates to an implicit
or explicit bargain that lays out the justification or source of legitimacy a govern-
ment has over a people. That is, depending on one’s view, a government is required
to fulfil basic functions to be considered legitimate, or to be deserving of the right
to rule. These functions often include the respect of individual and/or group rights
(however defined), the maintenance of order and security, the provision of a viable
economy and economic freedom (such as the right to private property), and, in
some instances, the pursuit of more specific ideological or religious aims. Often,
these social contracts are articulated in the constitution of a state as well as in the
actions of a state, such as through adherence to, for instance, international conven-
tions on human rights, economic freedoms, or other issues.
In the post-independence Middle East, and particularly in the Arab states,
there were particular features of a more implicit social contract that worked to
limit popular political participation. These included a guarantee of security and
a promise, rhetorically at least, to confront threats to stability both within and
outside the state, state regulation of economic planning and development that
included guarantees of state employment for citizens, and the use of state rev-
enues, particularly in oil-producing states, for the provision of large-scale welfare
programmes. The cost of these was a closed political system. In other words, the
contract was a trading of political freedoms for economic and security guarantees.
This was not a static situation. Regional economic turmoil through the 1980s and
1990s led to widespread social unrest across the region, unrest similar to that which
broke out with the ‘Arab Spring’ towards the end of 2010. This economic downturn
forced many regional regimes to implement economic reform programmes that put
the social contract under strain, particularly in the poorer regional states. However,
whilst there have been efforts at reforming or adapting authoritarian regimes in
recent years, these types of regimes persist. In addition to the informal modes of
control and managing political participation through patron–client relationships,
regimes also employ a number of other mechanisms for ensuring rule. These include
populist politics, the use of single-party systems and so-called ‘rentier’ politics, as
well as the use of coercion and the state security apparatus.
Populist Politics and Single-Party Systems

Political populism is a tool commonly employed by authoritarian regimes, with
those in the Middle East no exception. Populism can be broadly understood as a
rhetorical tool to mobilise a population in support of a set of policies, a movement
or a regime. It does not connote a specific set of ideas. Instead, populist politics
revolves around broad, often ill-defined claims that a regime or movement is
defending or pursuing the interests of ‘the people’ against an enemy.
The content of populist politics differs from place to place. It can appeal to popu-
lar fears of ‘outsiders’, class tensions, historic antagonisms or even invoke conspiracy
theories. By doing this, it aims to present ‘the people’, usually a national commu-
nity, as a homogeneous group who require protection. In authoritarian settings, it
is the regime that presents itself as the protector and champion of these interests
and goals. Looking back to the ideological themes outlined earlier in this volume,
populist rhetoric has generally revolved around nationalism or religion, particularly
Islam and, in relation to Israel, Judaism. Indeed, the controversy surrounding Israel
in the Middle East has been a prominent feature of such political discourse, with
regimes in Egypt, Syria, Iraq and elsewhere basing part of their claims to rule in
terms of their confrontation with Israel. Similarly, populist rhetoric can resonate in
democratic and semi-democratic systems as it does in Israeli, Lebanese, Turkish and
Iranian politics.
Populist politics also extends to the realm of policy. In particular, this was linked
to the particular ideological bent of the regime at the time. For instance, Nasser’s
nationalisation of the Suez Canal in 1956 or Mossadeq’s nationalisation of the

Iranian oil industry in 1951 are prime examples of ‘showcase’ populist moves. They
generated massive popularity for the government of the day, as much for the sym-
bolism of challenging the perceived foreign oppressor in the name of ‘the people’,
as for their economic benefits.
Single-party regimes in the Middle East have included:
♦♦ National Liberation Front (FLN) in Algeria (1962–89)

♦♦ National Union and Arab Socialist Union in Egypt (1953–76)
♦♦ Rastakhiz Party and Islamic Republican Party in Iran (1975–87)
♦♦ Arab Socialist Union and Ba` ath Party in Iraq (1964–2003)
♦♦ Arab Socialist Union in Libya (1971–7)
♦♦ Yemeni Socialist Party in South Yemen (1978–90)
♦♦ Arab Liberation Movement and Ba` ath Party (National Progressive Front) in
Syria (1952–2012)
♦♦ Neo-Destour Party, Socialist Destourian Party and Constitutional Democratic
Rally in Tunisia (1957–89)
♦♦ Republican People’s Party in Turkey (1923–46)
This also happened at the domestic level, where nationalist regimes, influenced
by socialist economic policies, implemented large land redistribution programmes
during the 1950s and 1960s. Whilst the benefits of this for the poorer classes and
the economy as a whole were questionable, they were a tool that was used to gener-
ate support for the regime. These programmes were often carried out in conjunction
with statements attacking economic elites and large landowners, often seeking to
link them to the era of colonial and imperial exploitation. Here, authoritarian gov-
ernments have often employed political parties as mechanisms for both articulating
and mobilising support for these populist politics. Below, we shall discuss the pres-
ence of elections and apparent democratic systems in authoritarian states (so-called
‘hybrid regimes’); however, it is useful to note here that authoritarian governments
have often employed some of the symbols and practices of democracy in an attempt
to boost their own legitimacy.
These symbols and practices are superficial, and do not challenge the ultimate
authority of the authoritarian government. Instead, as is the case with single-party
regimes, they are tools to enhance the legitimacy of the government. Often, these
are not strictly speaking single-party environments, with smaller parties allowed
to function. However, these are often closely scrutinised by the government, or are
small enough that they act as an outlet for marginal opposition, a tool of distributing
patronage, or to deflect domestic or international criticism of the authoritarian nature

of the regime. Many states across the region have had single-party systems under an
authoritarian government. However, all former single-party systems have either col-
lapsed altogether or, as is far more common, moved towards controlled multi-party
systems. We shall explore a number of cases of the latter below, including the Baàth
Party in Syria and Iraq.
The Rentier State

The forms of maintaining authoritarian rule outlined above are far more common
amongst republics than monarchies in the Middle East. This is partly due to eco-
nomic and geographic concerns, particularly in terms of the presence of natural
resources. One of the most useful ways of understanding the relationship between
oil and authoritarianism is through the concept of the ‘rentier state’. In basic terms,
a rentier state is one that receives ‘on a regular basis substantial amounts of external
economic rent’ (Yates, 1996: 11). This ‘external economic rent’ comes in the form
of revenues derived from the sale of natural resources. In the Middle East, this
refers primarily to oil and, to a lesser extent, natural gas. However, there are deeper
implications of this beyond just the receipt of income from the extraction and sale
of natural resources. For Hazem Beblawi, a rentier dynamic is established when the
revenues from the sale of a resource flow directly to the state, the resource generates
sufficient wealth so that the economy of the state relies on it to function, and the
extraction and sale of the resource require only a small percentage of the domestic
population to produce it. The net result of this is a state that possesses a source of
income independent of reliance on the work of the domestic population (Beblawi
and Luciani, 1987).
Therefore, states that produce and sell natural resources, as many states do,
are not all rentier states. Instead, it is a concept that refers to states that are
able to function without the need for other sources of revenue, particularly taxa-
tion. As a result, rentier states are able to use their wealth (resource rents) as a
means to offset challenges to their rule through large state-sponsored employ-
ment programmes, welfare and other services. Here, one may invert the American
Revolutionary maxim of ‘no taxation without representation’, as, for rentier states,
there is ‘no taxation therefore no representation’. This has obvious consequences
for the development of democratic or representative institutions as well as the
economic functioning of these states. In terms of authoritarianism and democrati-
sation, rentier systems use revenues to provide services and facilitate patron–client
relationships that offset claims for democratic representation. The oil-producing
states of the Gulf, particularly Saudi Arabia, Kuwait, Qatar, the UAE and, to a
lesser extent, Bahrain and Oman, alongside Libya and Algeria, have developed
along these lines.
Coercion and the Security Apparatus

Apart from the mechanisms of maintaining authority outlined above, authoritarian
states also employ more direct forms of oppression through state security services.
Whilst all states possess internal security services in one form or another, author-
itarian regimes use these agencies in the direct oppression of opposition groups.
This oppression is exacerbated by the lack of constitutional constraints on regime
behaviour.
Mukhabarat is the Arabic term for intelligence agency. It is the title often given to inter-
nal security and intelligence services in many Arab countries, and is often the focus of
claims of excess on the part of authoritarian regimes.
Constitutional constraints and the rule of law serve as mechanisms for checking
the power of the state to pursue policies such as detention without charge, torture,
prevention of association and the suppression of public protest. However, as can be
seen in Table 8.2 above, many regional states have constitutions. Despite this, the
weakness of these documents in terms of the powers of the head of state or the ease
with which this rule of law can be suspended allows for the use of extra-judicial
violence by authoritarian regimes. This has been one of the most visible features of
authoritarian rule in the region. As we shall see below, the former Baàthist regime
of Saddam Hussein was notorious for its use of violence against its own citizens
in the suppression of dissent, the maintenance of order and the effort to coerce
support. Whilst other regimes may not have used these tools with such force as
Hussein, almost all regimes across the region have resorted to violence outside the
rule of law to maintain their authority. It is important to remember that this is not
the only tool, or even the most useful tool, for the maintenance of authoritarian rule.
And although it is a critical part, to be sure, whether it is the use or mere threat of
such acts, such coercive behaviour is part of a broader matrix of tools used by these
regimes to perpetuate their rule.
In 1958, the new military-backed regime in Egypt introduced an Emergency Law (Law
No. 162) that suspended constitutional rights, extended police and security services
powers, legalised censorship and banned public demonstrations.
Apart from a brief suspension in 1980 and early 1981, the assassination of President
Sadat led to its re-imposition and it has been in place ever since. Elements of the law
have been suspended in the wake of the toppling of President Mubarak in 2011, but
the law remains valid.
Personality ‘Cults’
The importance of personality and charisma is one of the more difficult factors to
gauge in understanding authoritarian rule. For Weber, the ‘charismatic authority’
was a central part of any authority structure. Indeed, those who visit these countries
are often struck by the omnipresence of images of heads of state that dominate
public spaces. However, as Lisa Wedeen has noted in relation to the ‘personality
cult’ during Hafiz al-Assad’s rule in Syria, ‘the Syrian leadership considers the cult
worthy of considerable expenditures of both time and money’ even when efforts to
‘create charisma and induce popular belief … do not seem to be working’ (1999: 4).
Therefore, whilst it is commonly thought that these personality cults are efforts
to generate feelings of love or at least loyalty amongst the population towards the
leadership, this is not always the case. In authoritarian regimes, the rituals and sym-
bols that surround these personality cults often seek to make the leader the symbol
of the nation’s struggle. As was discussed in Chapter 4, this is particularly true of
much of the imagery around many regional Arab leaders and their attempts to asso-
ciate themselves with Palestinian rights or, more recently, with images of religiosity.
One result of this is the personification of the regime in one person. Whilst this
is somewhat reflective of the highly centralised power of authoritarian governments,
it has also led to situations where the toppling of an individual leader, the symbol
of the old regime, leaves intact the mechanisms of authoritarian control. This has
been an issue faced by many movements in the Middle East that seek to reshape the
regional political order to one that is more politically open and inclusive.
Examples of Authoritarianism in the Middle East

The following case studies are not exhaustive histories of each regime. Instead,
they offer a brief outline of the mechanisms of authoritarianism employed by each
in the maintenance of their rule. This is designed to illustrate both the diversity of
authoritarianism in the region as well as the various ways people participated within
these systems.
Case Study: Republican Authoritarianism in Syria (1970–2000)

As Cleveland and Bunton argue, through the 1960s and 1970s both Syria and Iraq
earned ‘well-deserved reputations for political instability’, with numerous coups
and counter-coups (2009: 397). However, the regimes that emerged in the 1970s
in both states led to durable authoritarian regimes. Whilst Iraq will be examined
below, the authoritarian government established under Hafiz al-Assad between
1970 and his death in 2000 persists through to today, even in the face of two large-
scale uprisings, one from 1976 to 1982 and one that broke out in 2011.
Here, the army and the mukhabarat were key elements of the regime’s power, with
coercion used as an important part of the strategy to maintain power and employed
when other means of preserving order broke down. An example of this was the use
of both the army and internal security services in the crushing of the Syrian Muslim
Brotherhood’s uprising in 1982, an event that culminated in the siege of the city
of Hama in February when the government deployed the army against insurgents.
The resulting fighting left the city levelled and between 10,000 and 20,000 people
dead. Whilst the Syrian branch of the Brotherhood ceased to operate in any mean-
ingful capacity, the city has persisted as a hot-bed of anti-regime activity, being at
the centre of the 2011 uprising in Syria.
Aside from direct coercion, Assad also used sectarianism to his advantage. Syria
is an immensely diverse country, but one with a majority Sunni Arab population.
This community had traditionally dominated Syria’s political and particularly eco-
nomic life. Assad came from the traditionally marginalised Alawi community, and
the most prominent positions in both the government and the various elements
of the security services were given to those from the President’s community, with
token positions going to Syrian Christians and Sunni Muslims.
Coercion and tactics of opposition division were more important to Syria as it
lacked the oil wealth of many of the other Arab states in the region. There was a
measure of economic development through Assad’s reforms in the 1970s, includ-
ing land redistribution, education and infrastructure development programmes.
However, whilst the regime implemented a number of socialist-style economic
reforms, it did not pursue a hard-line socialist economic policy, allowing a measure
of private ownership, particularly amongst urban Sunni groups, who were the most
disenfranchised under the new regime. In addition, Syria was able to deflect some
economic pressures after the end of the civil war in Lebanon in 1990 when their
occupation of the country allowed them to export up to 1 million poor workers to
Lebanon. This came on the back of an economic downturn in the late 1980s and
early 1990s as well as the ramifications of the 1982 uprising.
Alongside many authoritarian regimes of the time, the Assad regime introduced
a largely secular civil law code that led to improvements for both women and minor-
ity groups in the areas of social mobility, inheritance law and other areas. These
reforms often worked against the largely conservative social fabric, creating tensions
between society, particularly the Sunni religious establishment, and the regime.
At the regional level, the Syrian regime based its claims to legitimacy on its con-
tinued confrontationalist stance vis-à-vis Israel. This was a central platform of the
regime’s rhetoric, positioning it as the champion of the Arab and Palestinian cause.
However, efforts to control Palestinian organisations, ostensibly the rationale for
the 1976 Syrian intervention in the Lebanese Civil War, created tension between
the regime and the PLO as well as suspicion of the Syrian government’s motives.
This ultimately undermined Assad’s goal of controlling the PLO and using it as an
extension of Syria’s aims to pressure Israel into returning the Golan Heights.
Case Study: Absolute Monarchy in Saudi Arabia (1953–82)

In discussing the politics of Saudi Arabia, there are three issues that dominate the
discussion: oil, Islam and the Saudi–US relationship. Large-scale oil deposits were
found in Saudi Arabia in 1938, deposits that are the second largest in the world
behind Venezuela and would eventually see Saudi Arabia become the second larg-
est producer of oil behind Russia. However, the Saudi state was established prior
to the influx oil wealth on the back of the Saudi family’s conquest of the Arabian
Peninsula in the early 20th century. As such, it was a monarchy indigenous to this
part of the region, and one that developed its own form of religious ideology and
legitimation through the Wahhabist doctrine.
Whilst the Saudis developed a state structure at least ostensibly along the lines
of a modern state system, replacing the tribal confederations that existed previously,
the Saudi monarchy controlled almost all facets of government. This centralised
power was established under the state’s first king, Abd al-Aziz ibn Saud. Ibn Saud
was succeeded by his son, Saud, after his death in 1953. The new monarch faced a
series of challenges, particularly the influx of massive oil revenues into the coun-
try, as well as managing Saudi Arabia’s regional role in the face of the rise of Arab
nationalism in Egypt, Syria and Iraq.
King Saud’s rule was characterised by a lack of innovation and adaptation. He
continued with the absence of a constitution, a complete closure of the political sys-
tem and an emphasis on the religious elements of legitimacy that the regime relied
on for support. In addition, economic mismanagement drained the government’s
new-found wealth, leading to an internal coup in 1964 and his replacement by his
half-brother Faisal. Faisal attempted to improve the functioning of government in
Saudi society, through massive education, infrastructure and industrial programmes,
funded by the state’s oil wealth, wealth that increased dramatically after the 1973 oil
embargo. However, this was a managed reform process that was not accompanied
by a political reform process, with the state managing the process as a means to
make their rule more effective, and less prone to instability and challenges.
For instance, education reforms were not aimed at developing critical skills
but at training local technocrats and bureaucrats to staff the large new govern-
ment departments. This would make the state more efficient, undercutting the
potential unrest that might stem from growing unemployment, as well as making
people dependent on the state for their quality of life. Therefore, even in the
context of social and economic development programmes, the use of funds to
deflect opposition and criticism was the centrepiece of Saudi governance. This
was a tactic employed at the regional level also. Faced with growing criticism
over their close alliance with the United States, the Saudi monarchy, particularly
during and after the reign of Faisal, sent large amounts of money to the PLO as
well as regional governments in exchange for a muting of their criticism of Saudi
foreign policy.
Saudi Arabia’s Shi ` a community are believed to make up around 15% of the country’s
estimated 28 million people. They are concentrated in the oil-producing east of the
country, but have been traditionally marginalised due to their religion and tension
over alleged links to their religious cohorts in the Islamic Republic of Iran, a regional
adversary of the Saudis.
However, the programme of attempting to implement modernising reforms ‘with-

out upsetting the conservative social structure and Islamic value system on which
the regime’s authority depended’ was placed under increasing stress throughout the
1970s (Cleveland and Bunton, 2009: 459). The rentier-style system was struggling
to accommodate the rapidly increasing population, leading to greater bureaucratic
inefficiency, waste and evident corruption. This trajectory tied in with the emer-
gence of Islamist ideology as a challenge to the regime. The seizure of the Grand
Mosque in Mecca during the 1979 hajj and the 1979 Islamic Revolution in Iran
presented challenges to both the domestic and international policy stances of
the government. In the case of the former, the group that led the mosque seizure
claimed to be leading an uprising against what was seen as a corrupt and un-Islamic
monarchy, charges that emanated from the regime’s wealth, indulgence and ties to
the US. In the case of the latter, this led to fears of an uprising amongst the sub-
stantial Shià population in the oil-rich east of Saudi Arabia, a community that had
long been oppressed by the regime.
This instability was also fuelled by the growing migrant worker population
in Saudi Arabia, a situation mirrored in other oil-producing Gulf states such as
Kuwait, Qatar and the UAE. In these states, citizens were employed by the state but
rarely if ever in a production capacity, instead staffing the large state bureaucracies.
Migrant workers from the poorer Middle East states (Yemen, Sudan and many
Palestinians) as well as from poorer countries around the world swelled in numbers
from the 1980s. In the case of the UAE, they now outnumber the resident population
by an estimated 3 to 1 (Kamrava and Babar, 2012).
The seizure of the Grand Mosque of Mecca on 20 November 1979 was carried
out by a group led by Juhaiman ibn Muhammad ibn Saif al Otaibi who claimed to be
the Mahdi, or redeemer, and aimed to overthrow what he saw as the illegitimate and
apostate Saudi regime. It is argued that this was the forerunner to the emergence of
subsequent radical Islamist groups and preachers out of Saudi Arabia, including Osama
bin Laden (see Chapter 5).
However, despite the growth of opposition, particularly through the articulation

of radical Islamist ideology, the regime has been able to maintain a semblance of
stability, even in the face of the events of the ‘Arab Spring’. Greater delegation of
authority to the religious establishment and amongst key members of the royal
family have moved the country, partially at least, from an absolute dictatorship.
However, the lack of any constitution, effective civil law code or official means of
political participation remains definitive features of political life in the country.
Case Study: Military-Backed Totalitarian Regime

in Iraq (1979–90)
During the 1980s and 1990s, two regional states were exemplars of closed polit-
ical systems with leaders that divided international opinion, Iraq under Saddam
Hussein and Libya under Muammar Gaddhafi. Both leaders would subsequently
be overthrown, but in starkly different circumstances, with Hussein toppled at the
hands of the US after the 2003 invasion and Gaddhafi by his own population after
the 2011 uprising.
Hussein came from the dominant Sunni minority in Iraq, but was from a family
(al-Tikriti) that had been traditionally marginalised amongst the Sunni. However,
Hussein’s familial links to the leader of the Iraqi Baàth Party in the 1960s and future
President, Ahmad Hassan al-Bakr, saw him elevated within the party structure and,
finally, al-Bakr’s deputy after 1969. Here we can see evidence of traditional struc-
tures surviving even within revolutionary reformist movements such as the Baàth.
From his position as deputy of the powerful Revolutionary Command Council,
Hussein extended his authority through the use of the state’s internal security ser-
vices and intelligence networks. In this regard, Iraq under al-Bakr, and particularly
Hussein from 1979, was a regime that maintained its authority primarily through
the use of coercion and security measures.
Other mechanisms were present, including the use of the Baàth as the single
party as well as the implementation of large-scale industrialisation and develop-
ment projects, particularly during the 1970s. In this regard, Iraq and Algeria shared
the scenario of possessing large oil deposits. However, whilst this did lead to some
rentier-style activity, the size of both countries’ populations as well as the more
established political structures made a Gulf-style rentier system untenable. Instead,
the wealth was used in development projects and import-substitution industrialisa-
tion programmes.
During the Iran–Iraq War, various Kurdish militias in Iraq battled with Hussein’s government
for autonomy or independence. During this conflict, on 16 March 1988, Hussein’s govern-
ment deployed chemical weapons on the Kurdish village of Halabja, killing an estimated
5000 people in one day (many more died after the attack as a result of the weapons used).
The Iraqi army used a number of lethal agents, including mustard gas and sarin gas,
indiscriminately on the almost exclusively civilian population.
This attack was a key part of the argument used by supporters of the 2003 invasion
of Iraq as an example of the need to forcibly disarm and depose the Hussein regime.
In terms of organisations, the military played a critical role. Senior political posts
were given to high-ranking military officials. However, this was framed by the con-
trol of the Baàth Party and, at its core, Hussein himself. Movement up the ranks
within the military, or within the key unions and other important organisations, was
dependent on party membership. As such, all public servants in Iraq were Baàth
Party members by necessity. This was a critical factor that contributed to the dis-
integration of the Iraqi state after 2003 when the US removed anyone with party
affiliation from state employment after the toppling of the Hussein regime, effec-
tively stripping the state of all trained professionals.
In this regard, state-funded employment served as a key tool of social con-
trol. For instance, al-Bakr nationalised the Iraqi oil industry in 1972 on the eve
of the 1973 oil crisis, seeing a massive influx of funds into the regime’s coffers.
These funds were used to implement large-scale employment programmes. In
addition, the regime also implemented reforms to personal status law similar to
those in Syria during the 1970s and 1980s. However, in Iraq this was backed by
the threat of violence should citizens challenge the authority of the party or the
regime. In addition, the outbreak of war with Iran in 1980 and the ramifications
of the failed invasion of Kuwait in 1990 led to the eventual decimation of the
Iraqi economy.
The repression extended across all Iraqi society, including the use of security
and intelligence services against the Kurdish and Shià communities as well as any
suspected dissidents. The repression of Iraq’s Shià, the majority community in the
country, extended back to the Ottoman and Mandate period. However, it increased
sharply under the Baàth, particularly after the 1979 Islamic Revolution in Iran
BULGARIA 28 32 36 40 44
Black Sea
GEORGIA
AZER
THRACE Bosporus
GR. Istanb̧ul Ereğli Samsun
Sea or Kocaeli
Marmara Sakarya Trabzon
ARMENIA
40
DardanellesBursa Eskişehir ANKARA Mount
Sivas tes Erzurm Ararat
Balikesir hra
Eup Lake AZER.
Aliaga A N A T O L I A Van
Manisa Kayseri Elaziğ Van IRAN
Aegean Izmir
Malatya Diyarbakir
Sea Denizli Konya
Kahramanmaraş Tigris
G
Gaziantep Şanhurfa
R
Antalya Adana
E
˙Io̧al Toros
E
C
˙Iskenderun
E
36 36
Euphra
tes IRAQ
Mediterranean Sea 0 50 100km
SYRIA
28 32 CYP. 36 40 0 50 100mi 44
Figure 8.1 Turkey

Source: Central Intelligence Agency
and the Iraqi invasion of Iran a year later. The Iran–Iraq War also led to increased
oppression of the Kurdish community in the north of the country, including the
use of chemical weapons, with the Iranian government seeking to promote anti-
government uprising (Dawisha, 2009).
A recurring theme here has been the ability of these regimes, at least during
the Cold War period, to deflect international criticism. As discussed in Chapter 3,
Hussein’s Iraq was able to court both US and Soviet support in its war with Iran.
This, ironically, would also sow the seeds of the future confrontation with the US,
culminating with the 2003 invasion and occupation (see Chapter 10), as well as
inadvertently contributing to the radicalisation of Islamist activism during the
1990s, forming a key part of Osama bin Laden and al-Qaeda’s early rhetorical jus-
tification for militancy against the US and its regional allies such as Saudi Arabia.
Case Study: Hybrid Regime in Turkey (1950–97)

Outside the Arab world, authoritarianism has arguably not had as strong a hold
in the Middle East. However, even in parliamentary democracies such as Turkey,
there has been a tumultuous history of political participation, one that continues
today. Indeed, the role of the military in Turkey, and the foundations of the Turkish
government established by Kemal Atatürk in the early 20th century are still con-
troversial and contested.
During the pre-World War II period, both the Atatürk and Inönü governments
implemented state-led development policies, including control of the education
system and the enforcement of Kemalist principles. After the war, the hold of
Atatürk and his successor Ismet Inönü’s ruling party, the Republican People’s Party
(RPP), over government was broken in 1950 with the rise of the Democratic Party
(DP), ending the single-party period of Turkish politics. This ushered in a new era
of Turkish politics. For instance, where the RPP largely drew from Atatürk’s cadres
and former military officers, the DP was a party primarily of ‘professionals and
business people’ (Cleveland and Bunton, 2009: 278).
The DP also deregulated the public environment, including privatisation pro-
grammes, and publicly questioned Atatürk’s secularisation programme. However,
the DP responded to the faltering Turkish economy in the 1950s with increasing
repression. This led, in 1960, to the first of four military coups in Turkey. Justification
for the intervention centred on allegations that the DP had both misused pub-
lic funds and contravened the constitution, particularly the provisions relating to
secularism. As a result, former DP President Menderes as well as Foreign Minister
Zorlu and Finance Minister Polatkan were executed in 1961 under the charges of
high treason. Contrary to military coups elsewhere, the military honoured state-
ments that they would not hold on to power, leaving office in 1961. However, their
intervention, along with subsequent interventions in 1971, 1980 and 1997, all
highlighted the limited strength of the civilian democratic leadership during this
period. As such, Turkey operated more as a limited democracy than a full electoral
democracy. During the subsequent decades, the instability of Turkey’s parliamen-
tary system led to the rise and fall of numerous coalition governments headed by
the RPP and the successor to the DP, the Justice Party, led by Suleiman Demirel.
Unstable and changing governments mirrored the broader chaos in Turkish society
at the time, with low-level violence between right-wing and left-wing groups seen
in bombings and kidnappings (Altunişik and Tür, 2005).
Some, such as Robert Naylor, argued that the military allowed this to happen as
an excuse to intervene in the political system, particularly in 1980 (Naylor, 2004:
94). The 1980 coup was justified, as with the other coups, as protecting the Kemalist
principles of the constitution, in particular the unity of the state, and as guarding
against the increasing ideological influence of the left- and right-wing militias and
parties. However, this coup was exceptional as it led to a suspension of the civilian
government and the constitution as well as the temporary banning of all parties and
unions and the imposition of martial law. In its stead, the military ruled for the next
three years, after which it stepped aside for an elected government under the newly
formed Motherland Party. Some have argued that the military only stepped aside
with guarantees for control over the new constitution that was introduced during
the military’s rule (Özbudun, 2000: 117).
Foreign policy was not a major element in the issue of political openness in
Turkey. The country remained neutral during World War II and whilst it became
a close ally of the United States, including joining NATO in 1952 and seek-
ing EU accession, it managed to maintain reasonably stable relations with all its
neighbours. Although there was a flaring of tension between Turkey and Syria
during the 1960s, this did not dramatically affect its foreign policy or domestic
stability.
The Kurdistan Workers’ Party (Partiya Karkerên Kurdistan, PKK), founded by Abdullah
Öcalan in 1978, was a political and paramilitary organisation that fought the Turkish
government for Kurdish autonomy and independence. During the period of military
activity (1984–98), it not only confronted the Turkish government and military within the
country, it also embarked on a series of bombings, assassinations and other activities
against Turkish government officials around the world. As such, it became designated
as a terrorist organisation by many governments.
Öcalan led the PKK from northern Syria until 1998, when the Syrian government
ordered him to leave. He was captured by Turkish agents in Kenya in 1999. He was
sentenced to death, with this being commuted to life imprisonment in 2002.
It was internal security matters that would become dominant in Turkey. Whilst
the political situation in the capital Ankara, the major cities including Istanbul, as
well as the broader west and centre of the country improved, the situation in the
Kurdish areas of the southeast worsened. Here, the constrictive nature of Turkish
democracy again reasserted itself. This time, it was not the threat of religious
conservatism or ideological radicalism but of ethnic separatism that provoked
response. Unrest in the Kurdish region of southeast Anatolia led to the imposi-
tion of martial law in the region in 1987, primarily targeting Abdullah Öcalan’s
Kurdistan Workers’ Party (PKK). Violence between the government and the PKK
broke out in 1984, and had escalated to the point of insurgency by the late 1980s.
The military remained central to the functioning of Turkish politics, including
another intervention in 1997 that led to the removal of the conservative Welfare
Party (forerunner to the modern Justice and Development Party, AKP) for again
seeking to violate the principle of secularism in the constitution; however, this role
was scaled back after the 1980 coup, particularly in line with Turkish efforts to gain
accession to the European Union. The limited nature of Turkey’s democracy has
decreased to the point where the AKP government that came to power in 2002 and
was returned in elections in 2007 and 2011 now openly contests the core tenets of
secularism and statism enshrined in the Kemalist vision.
Conclusion
Authoritarianism remains a key feature of regional politics. However, as this chap-
ter has discussed, this does not necessarily mean standard political dynamics across
the region. Whilst the lack of political freedoms is a constant, this is pursued in
a variety of different ways, at different times, and through different means. This
was shown through an examination of populist politics and single-party systems,
the rentier state system, coercion and the security apparatus, and personality cults.
Whilst measures such as those by Freedom House are not without controversy, they
do highlight how the lack of political freedoms has been an undeniable feature of
the political landscape of the Middle East and North Africa, one that has fed into
the uprisings that have swept the region since late 2010.
Study Questions
♦♦ What is an authoritarian regime and how does it differ from other regimes?
♦♦ Is authoritarianism an endemic feature of Middle Eastern politics?
♦♦ What are the varieties of authoritarian governance?
♦♦ How do factors such as economy, social structure and history affect the func-
tioning of authoritarian systems?
♦♦ How do citizens participate in the political life of authoritarian regimes?
♦♦ What is the difference between authoritarian republics and monarchies, if any?
♦♦ What has been the role of the military and security services in authoritarian
governance in the Middle East?
Further Reading
Brynen, Rex, Korany, Baghat and Noble, Paul (eds) (1995) Political Liberalization
and Democratization in the Arab World, Vols 1 and 2. Boulder, CO: Lynne Rienner.
A two-volume series that outlines the key conceptual debates over authoritarian gov-
ernance and pressures towards democratisation combined with a series of case studies.
Cook, Steven (2007) Ruling But Not Governing: The Military and Political
Development in Egypt, Algeria, and Turkey. Baltimore, MD: Johns Hopkins
University Press.
This volume highlights the unique relationship between the military and political
authorities in these major regional states, with a particular focus on their modes of rule.
Elbadawi, Ibrahim and Makdisi, Samir (eds) (2011) Democracy in the Arab World:
Explaining the Deficit. London: Routledge.
An effort at re-evaluating the trends that have mitigated the development of
democracy in the region, with an emphasis on economic and institutional factors.
Posusney, Marsha Pripstein and Angrist, Michele Penner (eds) (2005)

Authoritarianism in the Middle East: Regimes and Resistance. Boulder, CO: Lynne
Rienner.
A useful volume in examining the persistence of authoritarian rule in the Middle
East, exploring how authoritarian regimes adapt to changing circumstances.

References
Albrecht, Holger (2008) ‘The Nature of Political Participation’, in Lust-Okar, Ellen
and Zerhouni, Saloua (eds) Political Participation in the Middle East. Boulder,
CO: Lynne Rienner.
Altunişik, Meliha Benli and Tür, Özlem (2005) Turkey: Challenges of Continuity and
Change. London: Routledge.
Ayubi, Nazih (1999) Over-Stating the Arab State: Politics and Society in the Middle
East. London: I.B. Tauris.
Beblawi, Hazem and Luciani, Giacomo (1987) The Rentier State. Beckenham:
Croom Helm.
Brumberg, Daniel (2002) ‘Democratization in the Arab World: The Trap of
Liberalized Autocracy’, Journal of Democracy, 13(4): 56–68.
Dawisha, Adeed (2009) Iraq: A Political History from Independence to Occupation.
Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press.
el-Ghobashy, Mona (2010) ‘The Liquidation of Egypt’s Illiberal Experiment’,
Middle Eastern Research and Information Project, 29 December.
Kamrava, Mehran and Babar, Zahra (eds) (2012) Migrant Labor in the Gulf.
New York: Columbia University Press.
Linz, Juan (2000) Totalitarian and Authoritarian Regimes. Boulder, CO: Lynne
Rienner.
Lust-Okar, Ellen and Zerhouni, Saloua (eds) (2008) Political Participation in the
Middle East. Boulder, CO: Lynne Rienner.
Naylor, Robert T. (2004) Hot Money and the Politics of Debt. Quebec City:
McGill-Queen’s University Press.
Özbudun, Ergun (2000) Contemporary Turkish Politics: Challenges to Democracy
Consolidation. Boulder, CO: Lynne Rienner.
Wedeen, Lisa (1999) Ambiguities of Domination: Politics, Rhetoric, and Symbols in
Contemporary Syria. Chicago, IL: The University of Chicago Press.
Yates, Douglas A. (1996) The Rentier State in Africa: Oil Rent Dependency and
Neocolonialism in the Republic of Gabon. Trenton, NJ: Africa World Press.
9
Democratisation
and the Arab Uprisings
Learning Objectives
♦♦ The debates around democratisation in the Middle East and Arab world.
♦♦ Various tensions related to the relationship between Islam and democracy.
♦♦ The multiplicity of factors behind the uprisings, including region-wide and country-
specific trends.
♦♦ The role of information technology, including social media, during the Arab upris-
ings.
♦♦ The dynamics of the Arab uprisings since late 2010 through case studies of Tunisia
and Egypt.
TIMELINE
6 June 2010: Death of Khaled Said 14 March 2011: Bahrain requests

GCC assistance to suppress
7 December 2010: Self-immolation protests
of Mohamed Bouazizi
15 March 2011: Dissolution of
27 December 2010: First mass the Egyptian State Security
protests in Tunis Investigations Service
4 January 2011: Death of
17 March 2011: UN Security
Mohamed Bouazizi
Council Resolution 1973
14 January 2011: Tunisian President
19 March 2011: Egyptian
Ben Ali flees to Saudi Arabia
constitutional reforms approved
25 January 2011: First mass at referendum
protests in Cairo’s Tahrir Square
23 March–31 October 2011:
11 February 2011: Egyptian ‘Operation Unified Protector’ in
President Mubarak resigns Libya
11 February 2011–30 June 2012: 25 March 2011: First mass protests
Egypt under the authority of the in Daraa`, Syria
Supreme Council of the Armed
Forces (SCAF) 16 April 2011: Dissolution of the
National Democratic Party in
14 February 2011: First mass Egypt
protests in Bahrain
29 July 2011: Free Syrian Army
15 February 2011: First mass formed
protests in Benghazi
23 August 2011: Syrian National
17 February 2011: Manama’s Pearl Council formed in Istanbul
Roundabout Protests cleared by
Bahraini security services 20 October 2011: Death of
Muammar Gaddhafi
22 February 2011: Mass protests
re-occupy the Pearl Roundabout 23 October 2011: Tunisian
in Manama Constituent Assembly elected
27 February 2011: Resignation of 19 November 2011: Capture of Saif

Mohamed Ghannouchi al-Islam Gaddhafi
27 February 2011: Formation of 28 November 2011–11 January

the Libyan National Transitional 2012: Parliamentary elections in
Council (NTC) Egypt
1 March 2011: Legalisation of 21 February 2012: Presidential
Ennahda in Tunisia elections in Yemen
7 March 2011: Dissolution of the 26 February 2012: New Syrian
Tunisia Secret Police constitution approved at
referendum
9 March 2011: Dissolution of the
Constitutional Democratic Rally 23 May–17 June 2012: Presidential
in Tunisia elections in Egypt
Democratisation and the Arab Uprisings 263
24 April 2012: New Libyan electoral 3 July 2013: Egyptian President

law Mohamed Morsi overthrown by
the military
14 June 2012: Egyptian
Supreme Court annuls vote of 26 January 2014: adoption of new
parliamentary elections Tunisian Constitution
7 July 2012: Elections in Libya 26–28 May 2014: Abdel Fatah
al-Sisi elected President of Egypt
11 September 2012: attack
on US Consulate in Benghazi, 21 December 2014: Beji Caid Essebsi
Libya wins Tunisian Presidential election
Introduction
Previously, we discussed the persistence of authoritarianism as a key feature of
regional politics. For some, the Middle East and the Arab states were exceptional in
global terms due to the resistance they displayed in the face of democratising trends
globally. The wave of uprisings that swept the region since late 2010 have led many
to argue that an ‘Arab Spring’ has dawned, leading to fundamental changes to the
political landscape that equal an end to the dominance of authoritarian regimes and
the rise of a new democratic Middle East.
However, it is unclear whether these uprisings are leading to this outcome, with
the majority of authoritarian systems still in place and only marginal changes in
many states that were witness to widespread unrest and the toppling of heads of
state. This chapter will explore these uprisings, asking whether or not they signal
a democratic transformation in the Middle East or something else. Here, discus-
sion will first outline the main approaches to understanding democratisation in the
region, before examining this in relation to the cases of uprisings in Tunisia and
Egypt to highlight the differing trajectories these uprisings have taken. This will
enable better engagement with the question of whether this is a democratic ‘Arab
Spring’, as well as allowing us to engage with other questions around the vulnerabil-
ity of particular regimes compared to others in terms of future potential unrest and
challenges to authoritarian rule.
nderstanding Democratisation in the

U
Arab Middle East
Democracy is a global norm of immense influence. This can be best seen in the
efforts of leaders of almost all political persuasions who claim to be ‘democratic’.
However, this general commitment to the idea of democracy and its normative
power ‘is a very recent phenomenon’ (Held, 2006: 1). That is, the perception of the
innate superiority of democracy is largely a post-World-War-II and particularly
post-Cold-War trend. This section will briefly discuss some common understand-
ings of democracy and the processes of democratisation. In particular, it will outline
the factors that are most commonly focussed on as signifying ‘democratic transi-
tion’. From here, this chapter will then move to a discussion of the uprisings in the
Arab world since late 2010, with a particular focus on the debate over whether this
signifies a wave of democratisation in the region.
Democracy and Democratisation in the Middle East

The word democracy is an amalgam of the Greek words demos (people) and kratos
(rule), the rule of and by the people. So, the core of the democratic principle is the
idea of equality of participation amongst the members, or citizens, of the community.
However, this leaves open questions of what defines ‘rule’ by the people and who are
the ‘people’ who hold this authority. In addition, questions remain as to how this
rule is to be regulated and who ensures and enforces this equality of participation, as
well as what happens when the ‘rules of the game’, the factors that ensure equal rep-
resentation, are violated and how grievances about a lack of equality are dealt with.
These questions are addressed through various models of democracy. At a broad
level, models of democracy can be classified as either direct or representative. Direct
democracy is the idea that citizens have unencumbered control over and input into
the decision-making process. This is a form of democracy that becomes cumbersome
with large populations, and therefore is more common in terms of local governance. As
such, democratic politics at the state level is most often managed through forms of rep-
resentative democracy. Representative democracy centres on processes of appointing or
electing people to represent the interests of the citizenry in institutions such as parlia-
ments. Again, this leaves open questions of how representatives are selected, how these
interests are managed and how responsive these representatives are to popular will.
Arendt, Hannah, On Revolution (New York: Penguin, 1963: 23):
[Democracy is critical] not because all men were born equal, but, on the contrary,
because men by nature were not equal, and needed an artificial institution, the
polis, which by virtue of its nomos would make them equal. Equality existed only
in this specifically political realm, where men met one another as citizens and not
as private persons. The difference between this ancient concept of equality and
our notion that men are born and created equal and become unequal by virtue of
social and political, that is man-made institutions, can hardly be over-emphasised.
Whilst there are a wide range of debates over the structures and mechanisms of
democracy, there is a more recent debate concerning how to foster democracy, or
democratisation. In recent decades, this has become framed around the notion of
waves of democratic transition. Huntington developed this notion of democratic
waves, arguing that particular historical periods have seen clusters of ‘transitions
from nondemocratic to democratic regimes’ occurring ‘within a specified period of
time … that significantly outnumber transitions in the opposite direction’ during
the same period (Huntington, 1991: 15).
For Huntington, transitions to democratic governance had come in three
waves: (1) the early 19th to the early 20th century; (2) decolonisation after
World War II; and (3) the collapse of authoritarian regimes in southern Europe
and Latin America from the mid-1970s – with each followed by a ‘reverse wave’
(particularly between World War I and World War II and through the 1960s
and early 1970s). Central to this was the importance of institutions, particu-
larly elections, by which participation is enshrined and power is transferred.
These views impacted support for democratic transitions, particularly in the US,
and organisations such as the World Bank. These theories were approaches to
‘democratisation’, or the movement towards a democratic system. They sought to
isolate conditions relevant to the genesis of democracy as opposed to conditions
relevant to the maintenance of democratic systems, leading to the proliferation
of work on understanding how and why democratic transformations take place,
and an effort to translate this into policies for governments and international
organisations to sponsor, at least ostensibly, democracy (see O’Donnell et al.,
1986; Linz and Stepan, 1996).
There have been a variety of efforts to measure these transitions towards democ-
racy or the relative status of democratic freedoms. Despite this, and despite the
growing influence of democracy as a global norm, many authoritarian regimes in
the Middle East were able to survive through taking on the trappings of democ-
ratisation such as parliaments and elections; however, these have remained under
regime control. This is what some have referred to as the emergence of so-called
‘hybrid regimes’, where democracies emerged alongside authoritarian electoral
regimes, pseudo-democracies and politically closed regimes (Carothers, 2002: 8;
Diamond, 2002: 22). This resistance to pressures for greater democratisation has
also been articulated in relation to the relationship between Islam and democracy.
In particular, authoritarian regimes in the Middle East have often used the argu-
ment that they present the only barrier between a modicum of civil liberties and the
rise of Islamist authority and the imposition of shariàh, thus ending any democratic
future. This was a debate that became pronounced after the Islamic Revolution in
Iran, and has taken on renewed importance with the rise of Islamist parties in the
wake of the Arab uprisings since late 2010.
Islam and Democracy

Despite the intense debate surrounding the role of Islam in the political sphere, the
Quràn itself does not prescribe a specific political system; however, some have argued
that it does put an emphasis on particular political and social preferences for a Muslim
community. These include ‘pursuing justice through social cooperation and mutual
assistance … establishing a nonautocratic, consultative method of governance … and
institutionalising mercy and compassion in social interactions’ (El Fadl, 2004: 5).
Controversially, others have argued that the relative lack of democratic systems in
the Muslim world, the Middle East, or the Arab world lies within Islamic doctrine
itself (Lewis, 2002). This has fed into debates concerning the role of Islamist parties
in developing or established democratic systems. Here, concerns are expressed that
apparent incompatibilities between Islamic political doctrine and that of democratic
governance will lead to ‘one man, one vote, one time’ (Djerejian, 1992).
This debate can be further understood in relation to the question of sovereignty.
In particular, can Islamist parties reconcile the claims to absolute sovereignty
(hakimiyya) on the part of the state with their position on the centrality of the
Quràn and the shariàh as establishing the absolute sovereignty of God (hakimi-
yyat Allah) and God’s word? This has been an issue central to discussions amongst
Islamic intellectuals from the early 19th century, without any definitive position
articulated. The Islamic Republic of Iran has developed a system (vilayet-e-faqih)
that seeks to balance spiritual with temporal authority. However, the Iranian politi-
cal elites continue to face challenges to their authority based on the very structure
of this system (Mayer, 2006). Elsewhere, efforts to bring in Islamic law as the basis
of political authority have been implemented in restricted political environments,
such as in Saudi Arabia or Sudan, or have been implemented in a piecemeal fashion,
such as in post-2003 Iraq.
This is not to discount the theoretical compatibility between Islam and democ-
racy. Many scholars have identified how Islam recognises the notions of popular
sovereignty, the rule of law, the accountability of political authority and equality
amongst the political community (Chaudhry, 1997: 50–2). Indeed, many Muslim-
majority states across the world are democracies, such as Indonesia (population
239,870,000), Bangladesh (142,319,000), Malaysia (28,300,000) and Senegal
(11,658,000), or are partial democracies such as Pakistan (172,800,000), Nigeria
(155,216,000), Kazakhstan (16,433,000) and Albania (3,170,000).
Here, elements of Islamic doctrine relating to consultation (shura) and consensus
(ìjma), a history of constitutional governance, and components of the shariàh are
incorporated into the political system and exist alongside civil law codes. Despite
this, there remains an uneasy relationship between religion and politics in Muslim
states. This stems from, in part, the exploitation of Islam by authoritarian regimes
to justify their rule as well as the dogmatic reinterpretations of Islamic doctrine
presented by contemporary radical and militant movements that often seek to shut
down dissent, thus closing the door on political pluralism.
The US and ‘Democracy Promotion’ in the Middle East

Whilst the major instances of American intervention in the post-Cold War Middle
East were discussed earlier, US involvement has also, at times, been framed by the
principle of democratisation or, more specifically, democracy promotion. This is a
policy that is most often associated with the George W. Bush administration as part
of the policy and rhetorical response to the terrorist attacks of 11 September 2001.
Where the Bush administration, on the one hand, put the attacks down to a patho-
logical hatred of the US way of life, this was articulated alongside an argument that
the US support for authoritarian governments had bred resentment in the region,
one that had expressed itself in these acts of terrorism.
As a result, the US developed a series of initiatives that sought to promote
democratisation across the region. This was implemented through funding pro-
grammes located within the US Agency for International Development (USAID),
the State Department and the National Endowment for Democracy (NED), as well
as through new agencies such as the Middle East Partnership Initiative (MEPI)
and the Millennium Challenge Corporation (MCC), amongst others. These pro-
grammes were designed to provide funding to support the formation of political
parties and civil society organisations, as well as assisting in election monitoring
and other activities.
The Middle East Partnership Initiative (MEPI) was founded in 2002 as a complement
to the impending invasion and occupation of Iraq. It worked alongside existing and
other newly created funding agencies through small grant initiatives to support local
civil society and political organisations in promoting political pluralism and democracy.
These programmes, particularly MEPI and the MCC, were heavily influenced by the
transitionalist approach to democratisation. This was particularly so in terms of the
emphasis on formal political participation as the means to answer ‘indigenous calls for
enduring change’ in the Middle East (MEPI, 2007). However, the focus on elections
as the key indicator of democratic development has been criticised by many as ignoring
both the resilience of authoritarian regimes and informal modes of political partici-
pation (Lust-Okar and Zerhouni, 2008; MacQueen, 2009). In addition, both MEPI
and the MCC incorporated development principles articulated by the World Bank
and IMF that linked economic liberalisation to political liberalisation. However, these
policy initiatives had a limited effect on opening political space in the region. For some,
where there was a benefit in assisting the vulnerable political parties, this was offset by
the ability of authoritarian regimes to establish pseudo-democratic institutions such as
flawed electoral systems returning powerless parliaments.
Uprisings, War and Transition in the Arab World

Therefore, whilst the democratic landscape in the Middle East had changed since
the 1990s, this did not necessarily mean a transition from authoritarianism to
democracy. Instead, the nature of authoritarianism had changed during this period
in response to a variety of global pressures, including that of democratisation, as well
as economic neoliberalism and globalisation. This resulted in a situation of false
promises of political change, economic slowdown and growing expectations in the
region throughout the 2000s, breeding greater resentment, frustration and despera-
tion. It was this frustration and desperation that fuelled the outbreak of unrest across
the Arab world from late 2010. This section will explore the background to these
uprisings, the most significant events in the region in several decades. Focus here will
be on the myriad factors that fuelled the unrest in an effort to interrogate whether
challenges to sitting governments across the Arab world were calls for democracy,
and, in the cases where regimes have fallen, whether this has been the outcome.
The Background to the Arab Uprisings

There was no single factor behind the uprisings in the Arab world; instead they
were the result of an amalgam of various issues that impacted on different states in
different ways. In broad terms, economic factors were central, particularly in terms
of inflation and its impacts on basic food items such as bread and fuel, on unem-
ployment, underemployment and job insecurity, and wealth disparities. In addition,
political forces such as the lack of freedoms, the continuation of autocracy, corrup-
tion and the role of foreign interference also exacerbated unrest. Finally, social factors
such as frustration and unmet expectations amongst the young population as well
as tensions surrounding religion and social freedoms all contributed to the matrix of
friction that fed into the outbreak of anti-government protests in late 2010.
Perhaps the most obvious of these tensions was the continuing lack of politi-
cal freedoms across the region. This has been discussed at length throughout this
volume. However, this does not reveal the whole picture. In particular, it does not
explain why the uprisings happened at this point when authoritarianism has been a
feature of regional politics for many decades. This is not to discount the impacts of
dictatorship, but it does highlight the need to understand how a variety of factors
have fed into the unrest.
One common theme highlighted has been the so-called ‘youth bulge’, in which the
fragile political and economic systems across the region have failed to accommodate
the ambitions of the rapidly growing young population in the Arab world. However,
according to the UN Statistics Department (Table 9.1), the youth population in the
Arab world is not far in excess of the global average. Of the states that have expe-
rienced significant civil unrest between late 2010 and mid-2012 (Bahrain, Egypt,
Libya, Syria, Tunisia and Yemen), Egypt, Libya and Syria have a youth population in
excess of regional and global averages. However, other regional states, including Iraq,
Saudi Arabia and Sudan also have large youth populations in excess of the global
average. Saying this, the region is growing at almost double the global average, pro-
jecting the upward pressure in terms of a growing youth bulge into the future.
Whilst the size of the young population may be in excess of the global average,
it is not extraordinarily so. However, this factor does take on greater importance
when combined with rates of unemployment, particularly youth unemployment.
Table 9.1 Demographics of the Arab states in the Middle East and North Africa (2011
UNSD estimates)
% under 15 y/o Annual Growth Rate Urban Population
Algeria 27% 3.1% 67.1%

Bahrain 20% 2.1% 88.7%
Egypt 31% 1.7% 43.5%
Iraq 43% 3.1% 66.1%
Jordan 37% 1.9% 78.6%
Kuwait 27% 2.4% 98.4%
Lebanon 24% 0.7% 87.4%
Libya 31% 0.8% 78.1%
Morocco 28% 1.0% 58.8%
Oman 27% 1.9% 73.3%
Qatar 14% 2.9% 95.9%
Saudi Arabia 30% 2.1% 82.3%
Sudan 40% 2.4% 40.8%
Syria 36% 1.7% 56.2%
Tunisia 23% 1.0% 67.7%
UAE 17% 2.2% 84.4%
Yemen 44% 3.0% 32.4%
Regional average 29% 2.0% 70.6%
Global average 26% 1.1% 50.5%
Unemployment across the region is a major issue, with youth unemployment

being particularly high. According to the International Labour Organization, the
youth unemployment rate in the Middle East and North Africa (24.2%) is higher
than any other region (central/southeast Europe – 20.8%, Latin America and the
Caribbean – 15.7%). Whilst it is difficult to find exact unemployment statistics due
to chronic under-reporting in official government data, it is safe to assume that this
number is likely to be much higher.
The other notable statistic outlined in Table 9.1 is the high rate of urbanisation
across the region. This may help explain one part of the unrest in terms of the lack
of economic opportunities faced by those in the cities. This is a factor that is often
worsened with rising levels of education, particularly tertiary education. Higher
education levels can raise expectations amongst graduates, particularly in systems
that have traditionally seen governments provide state employment programmes.
Neoliberal economic reforms including structural readjustment initiatives have
seen a rolling back of state services, leaving many young people with a tertiary edu-
cation little prospect of employment. Indeed, as Table 9.2 highlights, the states of
the Middle East rank in the top 100 globally for literacy rates. In the words of the
famed Syrian writer Saadallah Wannous, young people in the Arab world have
been ‘sentenced to hope’, where the deprivation that they experience is ‘relative’
rather than absolute (cited in Rodenbeck, 2011). That is, higher levels of educa-
tion lead to higher expectations, expectations that are difficult to meet in times
of economic downturn or environments of political authoritarianism. Again, this
is not a consistent pattern across the region. As Table 9.3 outlines, education
levels in Yemen have not markedly increased over the past two decades yet the
country has witnessed widespread unrest, whilst tertiary education in Oman and
the UAE has increased rapidly in the same period, with these states remaining
relatively stable since late 2010. Here, features specific to each country need to
be factored into these understandings, such as the ‘Omanisation’ programme that
Table 9.2 Literacy rates of the Arab states in the Middle East and North Africa
(UNESCO estimates)
% Rank % Rank % Rank
Libya 97.7% 13 UAE 90.0% 50 Algeria 75.4% 78

Qatar 94.7% 28 Tunisia 88.9% 54 Sudan 70.2% 90
Kuwait 94.5% 30 Syria 87.9% 59 Egypt 66.4% 97
Bahrain 91.4% 45 Saudi Arabia 86.1% 64 Yemen 62.4% 98
Jordan 91.1% 46 Oman 89.4% 69 Morocco 61.5% 100
Lebanon 90.0% 50 Iraq 78.1% 72
Table 9.3 Education rates of the Arab states in the Middle East and North Africa
(UNESCO estimates)
Secondary Enrolment Tertiary Enrolment
1991 2010 Change 1991 2010 Change
Algeria 60% 75% +25% 11% 31% +182%

Bahrain 98% 95% –3% 17% 21% +24%
Egypt 69% 72% +4% 12% 32% +167%
Iraq 35% 38% +9% 12% 13% +8%
Jordan 78% 87% +12% 22% 38% +73%
Kuwait 99% 99% 0% 21% 24% +14%
Lebanon 77% 81% +5% 33% 54% +64%
Libya 99% 99% 0% 52% 53% +2%
Morocco 36% 42% +17% 11% 10% –9%
Oman 45% 81% +80% 1% 24% +2300%
Qatar 83% 94% +13% 20% 10% –50%
Saudi Arabia 99% 99% 0% 11% 37% +236%
Sudan 21% 29% +38% 6% 6% 0%
Syria 49% 72% +47% 18% 20% +11%
Tunisia 45% 79% +76% 9% 23% +156%
UAE 66% 82% +24% 7% 23% +229%
Yemen 40% 44% +10% 10% 11% +10%
has focused on providing employment for Omani graduates over imported labour
or the relative economic stability of the increasingly service-based UAE economy
(Winckler, 2000).
Perhaps the most compelling account of why certain states experienced unrest
and others did not is offered by Brownlee, Masoud and Reynolds. They argue that
the actions of two key groups, dissidents and the military, are central to under-
standing the variation in the outbreak of unrest, as well as why some uprisings
achieved more than others. In each instance of uprising, each state possessed ‘fierce
coercive agents’ (2015: 63). That is, each regime controlled a security service with
a history of using harsh means of control (the partial exception here is Bahrain –
however, it acted in concert with the Saudi regime under the auspices of the Gulf
Cooperation Council). However, in some instances we saw the military turn against
the regime and support the demonstrators who had initiated the unrest (e.g. Tunisia
and Egypt), and in others we saw the military fracture, with significant portions
remaining loyal to the regime (e.g. Syria and Libya). This variation rests, for the
authors, on the interplay between access to ‘significant oil revenues and a cadre
of uniformed officers who were not enmeshed in the ruling clique through prior
dynastic succession’ (2015: 65). In other words, unrest was able to gain traction
where regimes did not have sufficient finances or a security service personally loyal
to the regime’s elite to resist popular pressures.
Whilst this helps us understand the vulnerability of certain regimes to unrest
as opposed to others, the factors that acted as the initial catalyst for the demon-
strators to take to the streets from 2010 rests on a multiplicity of factors. These
include housing shortages, corruption and access to services, as well as the relation-
ship between particular ethnic groups, religious groups, sectarian communities and
family groups to the state. Thus, the outbreak of unrest across the region may be
understood in terms of discontent in relation to a variety of grievances as much
as an effort to move towards a new democratic future. In other words, the ‘nega-
tive’ drivers of the unrest, protests against injustice, were as powerful, if not more
so, as the ‘positive’ drivers of protest for democracy. Whilst these grievances were
largely country-specific, the sentiment and the desire for change became a regional
theme. Here, the role of information technology, including satellite television and
the internet, particularly social media, was critical.
The Arab Spring and Information Technology

These protests captured international attention, with rolling coverage of unrests as
they unfolded in Tunisia, then across North Africa and the rest of the Arab world.
This was not limited to those outside the region, with advances in access to infor-
mation from the late 1990s allowing Arab citizens both to see first-hand how the
international community sees the region and, increasingly, to take control of these
technologies and control how the world views the region. This section will outline
the key advances in information technology, particularly satellite television and the
internet, including the tools of social media, to understand how this fed into the
growing unrest in the region.
Satellite Television and the Al Jazeera Phenomenon

The free flow of information is a key element in any democratic society. In recent
years, this has been associated mostly with access to the internet and the innumera-
ble news sites, opinion sites and tools of social media. However, the proliferation of
satellite television preceded the growth of widespread internet access, with profound
impacts. This was particularly so where affordable satellite TV access helped over-
come control by state-run media services. Whilst access to satellite stations from
Europe and elsewhere helped citizens broaden their ability to get other sources
of information, regimes were quick to establish dominance of satellite TV rights.

From 1996, the Saudi-controlled Middle East Broadcasting Centre, the Egyptian
Space Channel and Emirates’ Dubai Television, as well as Lebanon’s Future TV and
the Lebanese Broadcasting Corporation, acted as voices for regimes or key factions
within these regimes. However, it was the Qatari-based Al Jazeera that revolution-
ised regional broadcasting, and provided a local voice for many Arabs on key local,
regional and global issues.
Al Jazeera marketed itself as an independent Arab voice, promising to exam-
ine issues from foreign intervention through to domestic political issues that had
previously been considered taboo. This reputation was established early when the
network aired a documentary on executions under shariàh law in 1996 that saw the
Saudi media company Orbit withdraw its financial support for Al Jazeera. Since
this time, the network has grown into a global news network, providing coverage
of key events, from the 11 September 2001 attacks on the US, to the 2003 US-led
invasion and occupation of Iraq, the ongoing Israeli–Palestinian dispute and, more
recently, the Arab uprisings. Its coverage of these issues has occurred alongside a
series of programmes that explore key social and political issues within Arab and
Muslim communities, and which continue to touch on topics that were previously
off-limits to open debate.
In April 2003, Al Jazeera withdrew from Iraq after cameraman Tarek Ayoob was killed
by US fire. In a controversial statement, senior Al Jazeera officials accused the US of
intentionally targeting the network for its coverage of US actions in the country. This
led to a falling out between the US government and the Doha-based network, with the
availability of Al Jazeera in the US still highly restricted.
However, the network has not been without its critics. For instance, governments
across the world have sought to limit the reach of the network. This has included
efforts by the Algerian, Israeli, Palestinian, Egyptian, Libyan, US and Chinese gov-
ernments to shut down access over critical coverage of sensitive political issues. In
addition, the network has been accused of working under political influence, despite
its claims to independence and editorial objectivity. This relates specifically to the
purported influence of the Qatari government over coverage. For instance, the net-
work has been criticised for a lack of coverage over the unrest in Bahrain since 2011,
whilst providing particularly critical coverage of the actions of the Syrian govern-
ment at the same time. This criticism centres on allegations of Qatari involvement
in support of groups active in the Syrian uprising since 2011 (Khaleej Times, 2012).
Regardless of these accusations, the dynamic of access to information and the
discussion of sensitive issues through satellite TV acted as a catalyst for the opening
of political debate in many Arab states. Whilst it is difficult to quantify the exact
impacts of this, the flow of information and diverse opinions in the region provided
the tools for many to increasingly question the established political environment.
This was a dynamic that was consolidated with the growth of internet access and
the tools of social media.
The Internet, Social Media and Political Unrest

As with access to satellite news and entertainment, the growth of internet access
in the Middle East has revolutionised access to information. Indeed, many within
the region have embraced the technology not just to consume, but to become
active producers of information through blogs, photo reporting and other activi-
ties. Again, however, the links between internet access and the outbreak of unrest
remains opaque. For instance, there is no direct correlation between the number
of people with internet access and the outbreak of unrest. As Table 9.4 outlines,
there are a variety of trends between the countries that have experienced significant
unrest between late 2010 and mid-2012. For instance, Egypt has the largest inter-
net market in the region; however, the next four markets (Morocco, Saudi Arabia,
Sudan and Algeria) have been relatively stable countries during this period. On the
other side of this equation, small markets in Yemen, Bahrain and Libya are matched
by markets in Qatar, Lebanon and Jordan.
This is the same for the degree of internet penetration in a particular state. Bahrain
has the second highest percentage of internet penetration in the region, yet other coun-
tries with similar rates such as the UAE, Qatar and Kuwait have also been relatively
stable. In addition, the rate of internet uptake does not necessarily correlate to unrest,
with rapid uptake in Syria between 2000 and 2009, a state experiencing significant
unrest, mirrored in Morocco, Sudan and Algeria. Indeed, this mixed picture continues
with low uptake rates in Bahrain alongside Oman and a number of other countries.
More detailed data are needed here to identify whether internet penetration or the
pace of internet uptake in particular communities within states has itself been a fac-
tor in fostering unrest. For instance, does internet access amongst university students,
trade unionists or other groups result in more effective political action? Also, what
particular content is more likely to have an impact on political activism than others?
The tools of social media, particularly Facebook and Twitter, were conspicuous
during the unrest that swept the Arab world from late 2010. However, the exact
role and influence of these tools on the unrest is debated. On the one hand, there is
a view that social media were central in both the articulation of dissent and a vital
tool in helping organise protests and to avoid efforts to repress unrest. On the other
hand, some have argued that the role of social media has been overstated, and that
it was only an elite, particularly an English-speaking elite, that had regular access to
the use of social media. As a result, this led many outside the region to suffer from
Table 9.4 Internet statistics of the Arab states in the Middle East and North Africa
(IWS estimates)
Internet Usage
2000 2009 Growth % Penetration
Algeria 50,000 4,100,000 +8,100% 12.0%

Bahrain 40,000 402,900 +907% 55.3%
Egypt 450,000 12,568,900 +2,693% 15.9%
Iraq 12,500 300,000 +2,300% 1.0%
Jordan 127,300 1,500,500 +1,079% 23.9%
Kuwait 150,000 1,000,000 +567% 37.1%
Lebanon 300,000 945,000 +215% 23.5%
Libya 10,000 323,000 +3,130% 5.1%
Morocco 100,000 10,300,000 +10,200% 32.9%
Oman 90,000 465,000 +417% 13.6%
Qatar 30,000 436,000 +1,353% 52.3%
Saudi Arabia 200,000 7,700,000 +3,750% 26.8%
Sudan 30,000 4,200,000 +13,900% 10.2%
Syria 30,000 3,565,000 +11,783% 6.2%
Tunisia 100,000 2,800,000 +2,700% 26.7%
UAE 735,000 2,922,000 +298% 60.9%
Yemen 15,000 370,000 +2,367% 1.6%
a ‘zoom effect’ where this group was seen as representative of the broader sentiment
across the country (Moisi, 2012).
This is a debate that will likely remain contested for many years. Suffice to say that
the advance of information technology as a whole, from satellite media through to
internet-based social media, has helped break down the control of information that
was a key element in the maintenance of authoritarian rule. The exact role it played
and its specific impacts are uncertain, but it is now both a key feature of regional
life, and will impact on the way those in the region engage with political power and
shape the expectations of people towards their government into the future.
The Arab Uprisings

This overview of structural factors behind the uprisings paints a rich, yet com-
plicated picture of the factors underlying the challenge to the political status
quo in the Arab world. This section will examine the cases of Tunisia and Egypt
to further unpack the divergent outcomes from the uprisings. Where Tunisia
experienced the first wave of Arab Spring unrest and, with some interruptions,
has progressed toward a transition from an authoritarian to more participatory
political system, Egypt has seen a return to pseudo-military rule and a closure of
formal political space.
Case Study: Tunisia

The uprisings in the Arab world began in Tunisia, a surprising development
given the apparent stability of the country. This stability was built on the policies
implemented by former President Zine el-Abidine Ben Ali since he took power
in November 1987, which focused on the privatisation of the Tunisian economy
and the limitation of the role of religion in the public life in the country. However,
Ben Ali’s rule was also characterised by harsh repression of opposition, from liberal
advocates and human rights groups through to the largest opposition movement
in the country, the Islamist group Ennahda (‘Renaissance’). Its neoliberal economic
policies and emphasis on secularism enabled Ben Ali’s regime to deflect international
attention and criticism until the outbreak of unrest in late 2010.
Despite this, unrest in Tunisia had been simmering for many years, particularly
with the downturn of the Tunisian economy during the 1990s and 2000s, with
its impacts felt particularly in the centre and south of the country. Whilst Tunisia
remained relatively wealthy compared to the rest of the region, growing wealth
disparities led to increased protests and the emergence of internet-based dissent.
Alongside this, the deep-seated corruption within the Tunisian system began to
stretch the loyalty of people from a variety of backgrounds. This became increas-
ingly personified in the President and his family, with revelations via Wikileaks of
the scale of fraud that occurred during this administration. For instance, the leaks
that emerged in 2010 revealed the personal wealth of the President and his family
at an estimated $5 billion, with accounts of decadent spending on consumer items
at the same time that subsidies were removed from basic food items.
Revelations via the Wikileaks website disclosed rampant corruption within the Ben Ali
government. The scale of corruption, with an estimated 10% of the Tunisian economy
siphoned off by the regime, was matched by the decadence of Ben Ali and his family.
For instance, these report detailed massive expenditure on lavish dinners, consumables
and other indulgences. The President’s wife, Leila Ben Ali, was a particular target of
the leaks and she became a specific focus of the protestors during December 2010
and January 2011.
The Course of the Tunisian Uprising

The structural factors, particularly the endemic corruption that framed the unrest,
were given a focal point with the tragic death of Tarek al-Tayeb Mohamed Bouazizi
after his self-immolation on 17 December 2010. Bouazizi was a street vendor in
the poor southern town of Sidi Bouzid. In many ways, Bouazizi’s story captures the
frustration and desperation faced by many, particularly the young, across the Middle
East. Forced to provide for ailing parents and five siblings, life for the 26-year-old
Bouazizi was a constant struggle to eke out a living selling produce. Facing constant
harassment by the state security services, Bouazizi sought to lodge official com-
plaints, each of which was ignored. In response, and feeling he had no other option,
Bouazizi went to the local municipality building, doused himself in petrol, and set
himself on fire. Bouazizi died of his burns on 4 January 2011.
This led to the eruption of violence in Sidi Bouzid, which spread throughout
southern and central Tunisia in December 2010. The unrest also included a num-
ber of repeat self-immolations and suicides by Tunisian youth, with more than 100
Tunisian young people attempting suicide through self-immolation in the first half
of 2011 and similar acts spreading across the region, particularly in Algeria, Egypt,
Yemen and Jordan. Protests had reached the capital by 27 December, and by early
January 2011 professional associations such as lawyers and trade unions went on
strike in support of the protestors, bringing the country to a halt. This culminated
in Ben Ali fleeing to Saudi Arabia on 14 January 2011, an act precipitated by the
army turning on the internal security services, depriving Ben Ali of protection and a
means of repressing the protests. Rule was assumed by former Speaker of the House
Fouad Mebazza who appointed a transitional administration under Prime Minister
Mohamed Ghannouchi and members of Ben Ali’s Constitutional Democratic
Rally (Rassemblement Constitutional Démocratique, RCD).
Anti-RCD protests continued throughout 2011, led increasingly by the trade
union movement, with senior government and military officials resigning en masse
from the regime and the RCD, leading to the suspension of the party on 6 February.
The continuation of protests forced the government to remove all former RCD
members; however, Ghannouchi clung on to control of the transitional administra-
tion. Protests reached a climax in late February, with over 100,000 on the streets
of Tunis, leading to the resignation of Ghannouchi on 27 February. The formally
banned Islamist party Ennahda was legalised on 1 March followed by the dissolution
of the Secret Police on 7 March and the RCD on 9 March.
Post-Uprising Tunisia
In addition to being the ‘home’ of the Arab uprisings, Tunisia has also seen per-
haps the most stable and, in its early stages at least, successful transition from
authoritarian to democratic rule. Central to this was the election of a new Tunisian
Constituent Assembly on 23 October 2011. The re-emergence of Ennahda on the

Tunisian political scene framed much of the debate in the run-up to the vote. In
particular, this focused on what the priorities of the movement would be vis-à-vis
their religious programme.
This mirrored a broader debate where many highlighted the central place of
Islamist parties as key opposition groups across the region and debates on their
priorities within a democratic system. In particular, critics argued that there was a
danger that Islamists would exploit the instability to entrench their rule and move
towards establishing a theocracy. In contrast, others, including the Islamists them-
selves, have argued that there is no evidence of this intent.
Tunisia provided the first post-Arab Spring example of an Islamist group com-
plying with the rules of democratic governance this when Ennahda won 89 of 217
seats in the Constituent Assembly election, ahead of centre-left parties Congrés pour
la République (CPR, with 29 seats) and Forum Démocratique pour le Travail et les
Libertés/Ettakol (FDTL, 20 seats) and the populist Pétition Populair pour la Liberté,
la Justice et la Development/al-Aridha (26 seats). Ennahda eventually formed a unity
coalition with CPR and Ettakol, with political posts delegated to each party. In the
wake of the election, the unity government as well as the new opposition parties
have been debating the issues of secularism and religion in public life, including
the lifting of the ban on the hijab in the public services and controls over the call
to prayer. This has occurred alongside intense debates on economic issues such as
privatisation and economic reconstruction as well as the drafting of a new constitu-
tion and deciding on the structure of the new political system, whether this is the
Ennahda-favoured parliamentary model or the presidential model favoured by the
CPR and al-Aridha.
However, this situation was not a total break from the past. Whilst the RCD was
banned in March 2011, its formidable party structure, resources and membership
remained. The Ennahda-controlled parliament passed electoral laws that sought
to restrict access of former RCD members to the new political structure, whilst
also seeking to navigate its way through a series of political crises from 2012 to
2014 that included political assassinations, a severe economic downturn and associ-
ated mass protests, particularly in the impoverished south, the emergence of radical
Islamist political violence, and a new secularist opposition in the Nidaa Tounes (Call
of Tunisia) Party.
Under such pressures, political transition in Tunisia has managed to main-
tain some momentum, albeit tenuous at times, toward greater political openness.
In January 2014, a new constitution was adopted by the Tunisian Parliament
that reflected a compromise between the then-ruling Ennahda party and various
opposition parties in terms of highlighting Islam as the state religion whilst also
enshrining principles around respect for religious diversity and secularism, gender
equality and formalising the freedom of political participation. The new constitu-
tion also paved the way for elections that were held in October that year, and which
saw the defeat of Ennahda, primarily as a result of the deteriorating economic con-
ditions in the country, and victory for Nidaa Tounes. On one hand, the victory for
the centre-left secular ‘Call of Tunisia’ party highlighted the ongoing divisions in
Tunisia between the wealthier coastal areas where Nidaa Tounes won the majority
of its seats and the poorer interior districts dominated by Ennahda. However, the
peaceful transfer of power from Ennahda to Nidaa Tounes indicated the willingness
of all parties participating in the country’s new political system to abide by parlia-
mentary rules. That is, the ballot box now dictates the actions of those in control of
Tunisia’s political system. Whoever they are, current and future Tunisian govern-
ments face formidable challenges in managing the fragile economy and deep social
divisions in this new democracy.
Case Study: Egypt

As with most of the regional uprisings, the seeds of the unrest were laid in the
structure of the regional state system and the lack of transparency and popular
participation in political rule and the transfer of power. Egypt was no exception
to this pattern, with many groups that would become active in the uprising crys-
tallising during the protests against the results of the 2005 presidential elections
that were won by Mubarak, with 88.6% of the official vote, over opposition leader
Ayman Nour. These elections occurred in the context of charges of corruption, vote
tampering and the exclusion of the major political organisations in the country,
including the Muslim Brotherhood and various liberal groups.
The issue of succession was important, since Mubarak’s son, Gamal, was being
groomed for the presidency. This was an issue that became increasingly central
through the 2000s with the failing health of the Egyptian President and the rise of
Gamal to the post of deputy secretary-general of the former ruling party, the NDP
(National Democratic Party). This helped consolidate opposition against Mubarak,
with many across the political spectrum joining in opposition at the prospect of the
Egyptian presidency becoming a dynastic office, similar to the trajectory in Syria
with the ascension of Hafiz al-Assad’s son, Bashir, to the presidency in 2000.
Many authoritarian regimes have employed informal security services in various capaci-
ties. In Egypt, the baltagiya (‘thugs’) were a common feature of Mubarak-era repression
of opposition protests. They were a key tactic employed by the regime in agitating for
violence during the period of protests during 2011.
The continuation of the Emergency Law in Egypt that allowed the government
to arbitrarily suspend the activities of political parties, detain activists and others
without arrest, and generally suppress and divide the opposition also fed into grow-
ing unrest. This was reinforced by the increased levels of police, particularly internal
security forces (mukhabarat), in the suppression of the opposition or suspected
opposition figures, including the widespread use of torture and extra-judicial mea-
sures. Underlying all of this were the continuing issues of corruption and economic
mismanagement that had wreaked havoc on the Egyptian economy.
Whilst political factors were critical, it was economic factors that further con-
solidated opposition to the Mubarak regime. The deterioration of the Egyptian
economy through the 2000s, in particular the removal of subsidies and the shrinking
public sector, hit Egypt’s large working classes hardest. This was a consistent pat-
tern in many Arab states, one that was worsened by the growing wealth imbalances
in the country and ongoing endemic corruption. This corruption and questionable
economic decision-making in the government was perhaps best encapsulated by the
2005 agreement signed with Israel to sell Egyptian natural gas.
The opening of government archives since 2011 has revealed that this deal, which
supplies Israel with more than 40% of its natural gas requirements, saw Egypt sell-
ing this resource at almost half the global price (Bar-Eli and Trilnick, 2012). Those
critical of this deal argued that it was the result of US pressure on the Mubarak gov-
ernment and part of the broader negotiations over US aid to Cairo. This fostered
resentment of the ongoing quietism that had characterised Egyptian foreign policy
since the peace treaty was signed with Israel in the late 1970s.
This simmering unrest included the killing of Khaled Said on 6 June 2010 by
state security services. The disappearance and death of people in Egypt was not
uncommon, but the tragic death of Said captured the attention of many Egyptians.
Said was beaten to death by members of the internal security services for allegedly
participating in online activism against the regime. Images of his body after his
death were posted on the internet soon after, confronting many with a portrait of
the excesses of the government. This was consolidated through the use of Facebook
and the page ‘We are all Khaled Said’ by Google executive Wael Ghonim, a site that
became a forum where many Egyptians began to share stories of repression and
anger at the government.
The Course of the Egyptian Uprising

Whilst protests against the regime were disorganised and relatively marginalised
in Egypt from 2005 to 2010, the outbreak of unrest in Tunisia sparked a more
organised confrontation with the regime. This confrontation would eventually
draw in all of Egypt’s key political players and remove Mubarak from the presi-
dency. In this regard, the initial protests in Cairo’s central Tahrir Square that began
on 25 January 2011 differed from those across the region in their initial levels of
planning for confronting the regime through non-violent activism. This level of
coordination saw the major opposition groups in the country, from the Muslim
Brotherhood to the liberal Wafd Party participate in the ‘Day of Revolt’.
The key tools used by the protestors in Egypt and elsewhere were social media,
often with mobile phones. In response to the initial protests, Mubarak sought
to shut down both internet and mobile access across the country. However, the
momentum for protest had begun, leading to successive days of unrest across the
country, with Tahrir Square becoming the focus of activity and the place where
several hundred thousand Egyptians marched daily through to the end of January.
This was also accompanied by a gradual escalation in tension, with growing reports
of violence across the country.
This violence became an increasingly prevalent feature of the protests, one largely
emanating from the regime towards the protestors as a means to break the back of
the anti-government unrest. Various estimates put the death toll during the protests
between 25 January and 11 February at 800 to 1000, with the bulk of the casualties
in Cairo and Alexandria (Human Rights Watch, 2011). This confrontation began
to peak in early February, when the regime deployed the baltagiya as well as the
internal security forces to disperse the protestors in Tahrir Square, along with sur-
real scenes of Mubarak supporters charging at protestors on camel and horseback
near Cairo’s famed Museum of Egyptian Antiquities. In addition, Mubarak and his
supporters within the administration sought to undermine popular support for the
protests through dismissing police officers in major towns, claiming that the ensu-
ing violence would be a sign of what political change would mean.
Whilst the protests had heightened tensions in the country, and put intense
pressure on the regime, it was a move within the ruling establishment that even-
tually ended the 30-year rule of Mubarak. As was discussed in Chapters 1 and
2, the military held a particular role in Egyptian society, seen as the protector of
the citizenry and champions of modernity. Whilst this reputation had become tar-
nished somewhat in recent years, it was their move that would determine the fate
of the Mubarak regime and dictate events afterwards. On 11 February 2011, Field
Marshal Mohamed Hussein Tantawi and newly appointed Vice President and head
of the Intelligence Services Omar Suleiman informed Mubarak that he no longer
had the confidence of the armed forces, forcing him to stand down.
Post-Uprising Egypt
The removal of Mubarak from power came in the context of popular protests, but
was precipitated by military intervention, leading to accusations that this was a
military coup rather than a democratic revolution. The rule of the military between
11 February 2011 and 30 June 2012 under the Supreme Council of the Armed
Forces (SCAF) became the focus of this debate, alongside the ongoing delibera-
tions over the powers of the new parliament, the shape of the new constitution and
the role of the army in the future of Egyptian politics.
The SCAF worked under the authority of Tantawi and senior military officials
from the Egyptian army, navy and air force, and operated as the government of
Egypt. After the removal of Mubarak, the SCAF dissolved Egypt’s parliament and
suspended the constitution, with the stated central aim of managing political affairs
until new elections could be conducted and a new constitution drafted. However,
immediate tensions emerged between the SCAF, those active in the protest move-
ment, and the increasingly assertive Muslim Brotherhood.
Central to this tension was the initial formulation of a transitional constitution.
On 19 March 2011, a series of reforms to Egypt’s constitution were approved at
referendum, with a majority of 77% to 23%, including presidential term limits, judi-
cial oversight of elections and other issues relating to the balance of powers, as well
as provisions relating to the drafting of a new constitution after the parliamentary
elections. However, this did little to mollify the increasing tensions and allegations
that the SCAF were delaying future voting as a means to ensure they held on to a
large measure of political authority in the country.
This led to delays in the holding of Egypt’s first post-Mubarak parliamentary
elections, in particular over the drafting of a new electoral law. The debate con-
tinued through to early November before elections were held in three stages from
28 November 2011 to 11 January 2012. Of those contesting the elections, the
Muslim Brotherhood under their new political vehicle, the Freedom and Justice
Party (FJP), were the clear frontrunners ahead of a range of established liberal par-
ties, new parties on the conservative side such as the Salafist an-Nour Party, and
other movements across the political spectrum.
The victory of the FJP, with 235 of the 508 seats, was not a surprise. However,
the success of an-Nour, in second place with 123 seats, shocked many observers,
raising fears of an Islamist coalition that would fundamentally alter Egypt’s politi-
cal landscape. Indeed, the liberal parties, such as the New Wafd Party (38 seats), the
Egyptian Bloc (35 seats) and the Reform and Development Party (9 seats), were
all largely marginalised by the vote, with their only hope of gaining access to power
being through a coalition government with the FJP.
However, this outcome was thrown into question in the run-up to the presi-
dential elections when Egypt’s Supreme Court ruled on 14 June that the results
of the election were to be annulled as unconstitutional. This ruling was based
on a judgement that up to one-third of seats were elected in a way that did not
conform to the draft electoral law passed in November 2011. This ruling was
rejected by the FJP, but the legal status of the first post-Mubarak parliament
remained uncertain.
Against this tumult, the Egyptian presidential elections were held over two
rounds, from 23 to 24 May 2012 with a run-off poll on 16–17 June. There was
intense controversy over which of the original 23 registered candidates would be
eligible to run in the wake of the introduction of the new electoral laws in January
2012. The biggest controversy centred on the candidacy of Ahmad Shafiq who had
served as interim Prime Minister in the last days of Mubarak’s presidency as well
as Minister for Civil Aviation from 2002 to 2011. However, on 12 April the new
Egyptian parliament passed a law prohibiting former high-ranking Mubarak-era
officials from being able to run for the office. This saw Shafiq disqualified; however,
this decision was overturned on 25 April.
Alongside Shafiq, the other leading candidates were the head of the Muslim
Brotherhood Mohammed Morsi, former Muslim Brotherhood member Abdel
Moneim Aboul Fotouh, and liberal Hamdeen Sabahi. The debate around the elec-
tion increasingly centred on debates over the potential dominance of the Muslim
Brotherhood/FJP should Morsi win or a return to Mubarak-era politics under
Shafiq. This debate sharpened when the first round of the vote did not lead to a
majority for any one candidate, instead seeing Morsi (24.78%) and Shafiq (23.66%)
receiving the two highest votes and eligible to contest the run-off ahead of Sabahi
(20.72%) and Fotouh (17.47%). The results of the second round were contested,
with both candidates claiming victory in the days immediately after the vote.
However, on 24 June Egypt’s Presidential Elections Commission announced that
Morsi had won the poll with 51.73% of the vote against Shafiq’s 48.27%.
The election of Morsi brought into focus the central division in the new
Egyptian political landscape, between the Muslim Brotherhood, now in control of
both Parliament and the Presidency, and the military high command, with allies in
the judiciary. Indeed, the ruling from Egypt’s Supreme Constitutional Court that
the Parliament was unconstitutional was openly criticised by Morsi as a power-grab
by the military, with one of his first acts being a decree calling for the reconven-
ing of Parliament and the drafting of a new constitution. This tension escalated in
August when Islamist militants attacked an Egyptian military outpost in the Sinai
Peninsula, killing 16 Egyptian soldiers, before driving hijacked vehicles into Israel
where they were killed by the Israeli Defence Force.
In the wake of this attack, the divisions between the military and Morsi became
irreconcilable. Morsi asked for the resignation of the heads of Egypt’s military,
Mohammed Tantawi and Sami Anan, and replaced them with former intelli-
gence chief Abdul Fatah al-Sisi, as well as removing the heads of Egypt’s Navy
and Air Force. In addition, with the continuing contest over the legitimacy of the
Parliament, Morsi issued a decree on 12 August in which he assumed full legislative
powers until new elections could be held. These moves proved fateful, with growing
allegations made against Morsi that he was seeking to impose a new authoritarian
regime. Supporters of Morsi maintained that he was simply carrying out the will of
the people as expressed in the Brotherhood’s victory in both the Parliamentary and
Presidential elections.
Deadlock continued through 2012 as popular opposition to the Morsi regime
began to consolidate, resulting in renewed protests by the end of the year. In
response, the regime sought to expand its powers even further, causing more public
unrest and violence between supporters and opponents of the regime. This reached
a climax by mid-2013 when, on the first anniversary of Morsi’s inauguration, mass
protests formed in Cairo and across Egypt calling for Morsi’s resignation, along-
side counter-protests supporting the President. On 3 July, the military headed by
al-Sisi intervened and called for Morsi’s resignation by that evening. When he
refused to comply, he and members of the FJP leadership were arrested and a tran-
sitional administration under Supreme Court Justice Adly Mansour was set up.
The situation deteriorated rapidly, and pro-Morsi demonstrations in Cairo’s Rabaa
al-Adawiya Square were forcibly broken up, with an estimated death toll in excess
of 800 supporters of the ousted Brotherhood leader. Subsequently, the Egyptian
intelligence services arrested and detained hundreds of Brotherhood supporters in
a state-wide crackdown.
From this point, it can be argued that Egypt has circled back from the tumultu-
ous 2010–13 period to one more reminiscent of the Mubarak period. Presidential
elections were held in 2014, seeing the election of al-Sisi as President of Egypt.
However, the only other contender in the race, Hamdeen Sabahi, garnered just 3%
of the vote. Follow-up Parliamentary elections were held in late 2015, resulting in
victory for a mix of centrist, populist and secular parties. However, with turnout as
low as 10%, the results have largely been dismissed. In addition, Morsi along with
over 100 others were sentenced to death in May 2015 on charges of colluding with
Hamas and Hezbollah to orchestrate the escape from prison of Islamist militants,
whilst the charges against former President Mubarak were dismissed in November
2014. Consequently, unlike Tunisia, Egypt has returned to pseudo-military rule,
with widespread public disillusionment regarding the participatory institutions of
governance, as well as a lack of a unified opposition.
Conclusion
With events unfolding at a rapid pace, the impacts of the uprisings across the Arab
world are difficult to quantify. The immediate effect of the toppling of the heads
of state in Tunisia, Libya, Egypt and Yemen, alongside ongoing conflict in Bahrain
and Syria, will change the dynamics of local and regional politics. However, the
scale of this change varies from state to state. For instance, there is greater evidence
of more profound structural transformation in Tunisia and Libya, where entire

systems of governance are being overhauled, as opposed to Egypt and Yemen,
where the removal of heads of state have left in place much of the structure that
existed previously.
In this regard, the prospects of these uprisings resulting in a more democratic
region are uncertain. The conditions that led to the uprisings varied from state
to state, with a range of consistencies in terms of economic malaise and ongoing
political repression. As such, it may be contended that the key feature of these pro-
tests was the ‘negative’ motivations, or protest against injustice. Calls for democracy
were present, and often pronounced, but these were as much calls for accountability
and transparency as for a specific form of representative democratic participation.
Thus, a move towards a more democratic Arab world and Middle East may not
be a direct result of these uprisings; but they will certainly mean a changed political
dynamic in the region. Even in cases where the bulk of a political system remains in
place, such as Egypt, the participation and dominance by previously marginalised
groups will fundamentally alter relationships and political dynamics. There is no
guarantee that these new players will be able to address the various causes behind
the uprisings in the short or medium term. However, the legacy of these events may
be one of highlighting how challenges to political authority are possible, potentially
fostering the entrenchment of pluralist and participatory politics in the Arab world.
Study Questions
♦♦ What are the defining features of the debate on democracy and democratisa-
tion in the Middle East and the Arab world?
♦♦ What are the arguments that characterise the debate on Islam and democracy?
♦♦ How has the issue of democratisation and democracy promotion been appro
ached in recent years by Western states and international organisations?
♦♦ What are the ‘region-wide’ factors behind the Arab uprisings?
♦♦ What are the ‘country-specific’ factors behind the Arab uprisings?
♦♦ How have uprisings differed in terms of grievance and outcome in Tunisia,
Libya, Egypt, Yemen, Bahrain and Syria?
♦♦ Do the Arab uprisings signify a move towards a more democratic future in
the region?
Further Reading
Brownlee, Jason, Masoud, Tarek and Reynolds, Andrew (2015) The Arab Spring:
Pathways of Repression and Reform. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
A lucid social scientific approach to the causes of vulnerability amongst regimes

that experienced unrest and those that avoided uprisings. Possibly the seminal
text on the causes and implications of unrest for governance in the Arab world
since 2010.
Campbell, Denis G. (2011) Egypt Unshackled: Using Social Media to @#:) the System.
New York: Cambria Books.
A volume focused on the role of social media and new media in the Egyptian
uprising, providing an interesting account of these new social and political forces.
Cook, Steven A. (2011) The Struggle for Egypt: From Nasser to Tahrir Square. Oxford:
A reflection on the uprising in Egypt based on a lengthy examination of the political
history of Egypt, this book is critical in understanding the particularities of perhaps
the most publicised of the ‘Arab Spring’ revolutions.
Hadded, Bassam, Bsheer, Rosie, Abu-Rish, Ziad and Owen, Roger (eds) (2012)
The Dawn of the Arab Uprisings. London: Pluto Press.
An innovative edited volume that pools critical thought on the origins and possible
future directions of the Arab uprisings, with a particular focus on the issues of new
media, gender and human rights.
Lynch, Marc (2012) The Arab Spring: The Unfinished Revolutions of the New Middle
East. Jackson, TN: Public Affairs.
A clear overview of the events surrounding the Arab uprisings from the perspective
of US policy makers.

References
Arendt, Hannah (1963) On Revolution. New York: Penguin.
Bar-Eli, Avi and Trilnick, Itai (2012) ‘Israeli, Egyptian Officials in Secret Talks on
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officials-in-secret-talks-on-gas-deal-crisis-1.427049
Brownlee, Jason, Masoud, Tarek and Reynolds, Andrew (2015) The Arab Spring:
Pathways of Repression and Reform. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Carothers, Thomas (2002) ‘The End of the Transitions Paradigm’, Journal of
Democracy, 13(1): 5–21.
Chaudhry, Kirin Aziz (1997) The Price of Wealth: Economies and Institutions in the
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Diamond, Larry (2002) ‘Elections Without Democracy: Thinking About Hybrid
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Djerejian, Edward (1992) ‘The US and the Middle East in a Changing World’,
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Moisi, Dominique (2012) ‘Don’t Expect What Happened in Egypt to Happen in
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not-a-russian-spring-2012-1
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(1986) Transitions from Authoritarian Rule: Prospects for Democracy. Baltimore,
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Rodenbeck, Max (2011) ‘Volcano of Rage’, New York Review of Books, 24 February.
Winckler, Onn (2000) ‘The Challenge of Foreign Workers in the Persian/Arabian
Gulf: The Case of Oman’, Immigrants and Minorities, 19(2): 23–52.
10
US Military
Intervention in the
Middle East
Learning Objectives
♦♦ The controversial background to the US intervention in Iraq.

♦♦ The impacts of the Iraq War on the Iraqi people.
♦♦ The continuing crises confronting the political system in Iraq.
♦♦ The impacts of counter-terrorism policy on the perception of the US in the Middle East.
♦♦ The dilemmas resulting from US counter-terrorism efforts in Iraq, Afghanistan,
Pakistan and Somalia.
TIMELINE
3 April 1991: UN Security Council 16 May 2003: CPA issues

Resolution 687 General Order Number 1
(‘De-Baàthification’)
5 December 1992–4 May 1993:
‘Operation Restore Hope’ 4 April–1 May 2004: First Battle of
1994: Beginning of Taleban military Fallujah
operations 8 May 2004: Transitional
27 September 1996: The Taleban Administrative Law
take Kabul 9 October 2004: Karzai elected
16–19 December 1998: UNSCOM Afghan President
inspectors withdraw from Iraq
7 November–23 December 2004:
16–19 December 1998: ‘Operation Second Battle of Fallujah
Desert Fox’
30 January 2005: First post-
7 October 2001: ‘Operation invasion elections in Iraq
Enduring Freedom’ launched
15 October 2005: Iraq’s post-Baàth
5 December 2001: Bonn Agreement constitution adopted
signed
5 December 2005: Iraqi
19 January 2002: President Bush’s parliamentary elections
‘Axis of Evil’ State of the Union
Address 2006: Emergence of Islamic Courts
Union in Somalia
13 June 2002: Hamid Karzai
appointed President of 20 July 2006: Ethiopian invasion of
the Afghan Transitional Somalia
Administration
25 December 2006: ICU driven
16 October 2002: Passing of from Mogadishu
‘Authorisation for Use of Military
Force against Iraq Resolution’ 25–31 March 2008: Battle of Basra
through the US Congress
20 August 2009: Karzai re-elected
8 November 2002: UN Security President of Afghanistan
Council Resolution 1441
2010: Emergence of al-shabaab
19 March 2003: ‘Operation Iraqi
Freedom’ launched 31 August 2010: Last US troops
leave Iraq
9 April 2003: Baghdad falls to
Coalition forces 30 September 2011: Leader
of al-Qaeda in the Arabian
21 April 2003: Establishment of the Peninsula Anwar al-Awlaki killed
Coalition Provisional Authority by drone strike
1 May 2003: Formal removal of
Baàth Party from power 26 February 2012: Ali Abdullah
Saleh replaced by Abd al-Rab
22 May 2003: UN Security Council Mansur al-Hadi as President of
Resolution 1483 Yemen
US Military Intervention in the Middle East 291
Introduction
As has been discussed at length, the US has been the dominant player in the Middle
East since the end of World War II. This engagement with the region has been
controversial, with allegations of hypocrisy and self-interest being highlighted by
many as the source of anti-American sentiment. Whilst previous chapters have dis-
cussed numerous aspects of this engagement, this chapter will focus on US military
intervention in the Middle East, particularly Iraq and Yemen, as well as military
intervention on the ‘periphery’ of the region, particularly Afghanistan and Somalia.
This discussion will outline in detail the dynamics and scope of these US military
interventions as well as engage with the various legal and ethical debates around
them. In this regard, there will be particular focus on how the perceptions of the US
in the Middle East have been profoundly affected, both positively and negatively, by
these events. In addition, this discussion will outline how these interventions have
shaped the emergence of new political and security dynamics across the region.
US Intervention in Iraq
Alongside the 11 September terrorist attacks and the subsequent ‘War on Terror’,
the war in Iraq was the defining global political issue of the first decade of the 21st
century. Indeed, it may be argued that the war in Iraq has been the single most
significant event in the Middle East in modern history. This importance relates
as much to the scale of destruction brought about by this conflict as it does to the
controversy over the motivations and the justifications for the US-led invasion and
occupation. This section will outline the war in Iraq, with a focus on the debate
over the lead-up to the conflict as well as detailed examination of the impacts of
the conflict.
The Road to War in Iraq

The roots of the 2003 US-led invasion and occupation of Iraq lie in the build-up
of tension between Washington and Baghdad through the 1990s. The 2003 inter-
vention itself stemmed from US efforts to develop a legal and a moral argument
that Iraq represented a threat to international peace and security serious enough
to warrant armed intervention and forceful regime change. These arguments took
on added significance in the wake of al-Qaeda’s terrorist attacks on the US on
11 September 2001 (see Chapter 7), where the Bush administration sought to both
implicitly and explicitly link the Hussein regime to al-Qaeda. As we shall see, in
the wake of the invasion and occupation, no credible evidence has emerged that
revealed an active nuclear, chemical or biological weapons programme in Iraq or

links between Iraq and al-Qaeda.
Lead-Up to the War

The legal argument surrounding this is rooted in the ramifications of Iraq’s 1990
invasion of Kuwait. Iraq’s defeat in this conflict required compliance with a range of
UN Security Council Resolutions, including Resolution 687 of 3 April 1991 that
required Iraq to destroy all stockpiles of chemical, biological and nuclear weapons
(‘Weapons of Mass Destruction’, or WMD), as well as any medium- or long-range
delivery (missile) capacity.
United Nations Security Council Resolution 687 (1991):
Decides that Iraq shall unconditionally accept the destruction, removal, or ren-
dering harmless, under international supervision of: all chemical and biological
weapons and all stocks of agents.
Iraq’s compliance was to be monitored by the UN Special Commission

(UNSCOM) from 1991 to 1999 then by the UN Monitoring, Verification and
Inspection Commission (UNMOVIC). During this period there were allegations
of Iraqi non-compliance with Resolution 687. This reached a peak in 1998 when
UNSCOM inspectors withdrew from Iraq, followed by a four-day bombing cam-
paign led by the US and UK in December (‘Operation Desert Fox’) designed to
destroy Iraq’s security infrastructure. This intensification came on the back of a
series of rolling crises in Iraq through the 1990s when the US enforced no-fly zones
in the north and south of the country as well as an economic sanctions regime.
The Sanctions and the ‘Oil for Food’ Controversy

In addition, UN Security Council Resolution 661 of 1990 imposed a wide range of
sanctions on Iraq that impacted all sectors of the Iraqi economy. Whilst they were
ostensibly designed to lead to the destruction of Iraq’s WMD programme and
stockpiles, they were also designed to pressure Iraq to pay reparations to Kuwait
as part of Resolution 687. However, the impacts of the sanctions on the Iraqi
civilian population came under greater international scrutiny. In particular, the
UN Children’s Fund (UNICEF) documented figures relating to sharp increases in
infant mortality rates and child malnutrition in Iraq under the sanctions regime.
This occurred alongside deaths as a result of the shortages of medicine, polluted
40
TURKEY 45
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Figure 10.1 No-fly zones over Iraq (1991–2003)
water supplies, starvation and a range of other impacts. This period also saw the
collapse of the education system as well as Iraq’s entire domestic infrastructure
(UNICEF, 2000).
According to the UN Children’s Fund (UNICEF), by 1997 the sanctions regime on Iraq
contributed to malnutrition rates of 32% of children under five years old, a rise of 72%
between 1991 and 1997.
In response to increasing international pressure over the effects of sanctions, the UN

implemented the ‘Oil for Food’ programme to allow for greater access to food and
other necessities as well as funding reparations payments to Kuwait. The param-
eters of the programme allowed for the sale of $1.6 billion in oil for the purchase
of non-embargoed items, with the funds to be managed by a third-party bank.
Between 1997 and 2000, the programme raised an estimated $46 billion, with an
estimated 60% of Iraqis dependent on food rations bought under the programme
in these years. However, this programme was mired in controversy revolving around
accusations that the Iraqi government, UN officials, Western government officials
and Western corporations were diverting funds for their own benefit. The UN
Independent Inquiry Committee estimated that the Hussein regime diverted
$1.8 billion up to 2000, whilst nearly half of the 4500 foreign companies were
alleged to have been involved in fraud and paying bribes to the regime.
In the wake of allegations of corruption under the ‘Oil for Food’ Programme, the UN
announced an official investigation on 19 March 2004, whose report highlighted wide-
spread fraud and involvement in paying bribes.
This led to similar inquiries to be held in the US (Government Accountability Office
audit) and Australia (Cole Inquiry). Despite controversy around the scope of the
Australian inquiry, no charges were laid against government officials or members of the
Australian Wheat Board who were implicated in the scandal.
Iraq and Disarmament

However, it was the argument surrounding Iraq’s alleged non-compliance with dis-
armament obligations and possession of WMD stockpiles that formed the core of
the legal rationale for the 2003 invasion. As discussed in previous chapters, Iraq
had a history of both developing and using WMDs against external and internal
enemies. Through the 1990s, there was great controversy over whether Iraq con-
tinued to retain its WMD stockpiles. However, by 1999, former UNSCOM Chief
Inspector Scott Ritter declared that ‘Iraq today possesses no meaningful weapons
of mass destruction capability’ (Arons, 1999).
Whilst this situation continued through 2001, the events of 11 September
changed the landscape completely. In particular, it led to allegations that Iraq had
links to al-Qaeda and that their potential capacity to transfer WMDs to the terror-
ist network constituted a threat to international peace and security. As a result, there
was a crystallisation of the ‘moral’ argument around intervention in Iraq whereby
the Bush administration formulated the plan that Iraq must be forcibly disarmed,
and the Hussein regime forcibly removed.
This was not, however, an argument that emerged as a direct response to the
11 September attacks. Planning for a full-scale invasion of Iraq to replace the
Hussein regime had been in place during the 1990s. In January 1998, a US con-
servative ‘think-tank’ called the Project for the New American Century (PNAC)
sent an open letter to President Clinton claiming that ‘removing Saddam Hussein
and his regime from power’ should ‘become the aim of American foreign policy’
(Abrams et al., 1998). What made this letter significant was that it was signed
by former Republican government officials, including many future members of
the George W. Bush administration, including Secretary of Defense from 2001
to 2008 Donald Rumsfeld, US Ambassador to the UN from 2001 to 2005 John
R. Bolton, Deputy Secretary for Defense from 2001 to 2005 Paul Wolfowitz,
Deputy Secretary of State from 2001 to 2005 Richard Armitage, National Security
Council Senior Director for Near East and North African Affairs from 2002 to
2005 Elliott Abrams, US Ambassador to Afghanistan from 2003 to 2005 and
Iraq from 2005 to 2007 Zalmay Khalilzad, as well as scholars Francis Fukuyama
and Robert Kagan.
Thus, by 2001 there was an attempt to bring together a legal and a moral argu-
ment for the removal of the Saddam Hussein regime, particularly amongst senior
Republican figures. This gained momentum in the US as well as in the UK under
the Blair Labour government. In the wake of the 11 September attacks, the newly
elected Republican Bush administration pushed the case for war on two fronts.
First, it launched an effort in the UN to pass a Chapter VII resolution to authorise
the use of force to remove the Hussein regime. Second, it launched a campaign to
find links between Iraq and the al-Qaeda network.
In terms of domestic US politics, the push for a response to 11 September
directed at Iraq was immediate. Indeed, as has been subsequently reported, Secretary
of Defense Donald Rumsfeld requested all intelligence ‘related or not’ that could
link Iraq to the attacks (Summers and Swan, 2012). More explicit efforts were
made in President Bush’s January 2002 State of the Union address that focused on
Iraq, Iran and North Korea as a so-called ‘Axis of Evil’ that was ‘seeking weapons of
mass destruction’ and ‘arming to threaten the peace of the world’, with these threats
including alleged links with ‘terrorist allies’ (The White House, 2002).
Selections from President Bush’s 19 January 2002 State of the Union Address:
Iraq continues to flaunt its hostility toward America and to support terror. The
Iraqi regime has plotted to develop anthrax and nerve gas and nuclear weapons
for over a decade.
This is a regime that has already used poison gas to murder thousands of its own
citizens, leaving the bodies of mothers huddled over their dead children. This is
a regime that agreed to international inspections then kicked out the inspectors.
This is a regime that has something to hide from the civilized world.
States like these, and their terrorist allies, constitute an axis of evil, arming to
threaten the peace of the world. By seeking weapons of mass destruction, these
regimes pose a grave and growing danger. They could provide these arms to
terrorists, giving them the means to match their hatred. They could attack our
allies or attempt to blackmail the United States. In any of these cases, the price
of indifference would be catastrophic.
We will work closely with our coalition to deny terrorists and their state sponsors
the materials, technology and expertise to make and deliver weapons of mass
destruction.
This was reiterated in the 2002 US National Security Strategy that explicitly
highlighted Iraq as symbolic of ‘rogue states’ who were focused on developing
chemical, biological and nuclear weapons capability. Here, an explicit link was made
between such states and ‘their terrorist clients’, highlighting the potential dangers
of arms transfers between them. No concrete links between Iraq and al-Qaeda were
given in spite of this assertion. Instead, the statement went on to argue that this
potential threat requires ‘proactive counterproliferation efforts’ at both the doctrinal
and enforcement level (The White House, 2006: 18).
The move towards unilateral action against Iraq developed in response to disagree-
ments within the UN Security Council, with the US and UK on one side and France,
Russia and China on the other, over the veracity of allegations of Iraqi possession of
WMDs. This confrontation reached its peak through late 2002 as the US pushed
for the passage of a Chapter VII resolution that would authorise the use of force
against Iraq. To this end, President Bush addressed the UN General Assembly on
12 September 2002, outlining a case that Iraq was in league with al-Qaeda and that
it continued to pursue an active WMD programme. This debate led to two outcomes.
First was an effort to sanction the use of force under US law with the ‘Authorisation
for Use of Military Force against Iraq Resolution’ of 16 October 2002. This Bill was
designed as an authorisation for the use of force to remove the Hussein regime, based
broadly on the charges of Iraqi WMD possession and links with al-Qaeda, drawing
on the 1998 Iraq Liberation Act to pursue regime change in Baghdad.
The Bush Doctrine was largely a response to the 11 September 2001 terrorist attacks,
and focused on the increasing prevalence of unilateral US actions targeting states
alleged to support terrorist organisations through what the regime labelled ‘preventative
war’. That is, the Bush administration argued that it had both the legal and moral right
to impose forced regime change in states that posed a threat, as determined by the
regime, to US national peace and security.
The second was Security Council Resolution 1441 on 8 November 2002, passed
under Chapter VII, that declared Iraq ‘has been and remains in material breach
of its obligations’ under previous disarmament resolutions. However, this was not
an automatic trigger for war, with the resolution allowing Iraq ‘a final opportunity
to comply with its disarmament obligations’ through facilitating UNMOVIC and
IAEA inspections.
For the US, this was inadequate as it did not provide an immediate authorisation for
the removal of the Hussein regime. In addition to continued obfuscation on the part of
the Hussein regime, the US pressed ahead with Secretary of State Colin Powell present-
ing the US case before the Security Council on 6 February 2003. The core of Powell’s
presentation centred on a claim that Iraq was in ‘material breach’ of Resolution 1441.
Therefore, a new Chapter VII resolution should be passed to authorise the use of force.
According to Powell, the purpose of Resolution 1441 was to ‘disarm Iraq of its
weapons of mass destruction’, with its failure to do this raising the possibility of ‘serious
consequences’ (The Guardian, 2003). Indeed, Powell raised the possibility of the UN’s
‘irrelevance’ if it failed to enforce these ‘serious consequences’ against Iraq. In addi-
tion, Powell sought to link the danger of the Hussein regime’s alleged maintenance
of a WMD programme to the ‘terrorist’ threat to the United States. He declared that
al-Qaeda could potentially turn to Iraq to acquire weapons of mass destruction (UN
News Centre, 2003). Whilst Powell asserted that Hussein had ‘terrorist associations’,
no specific evidence was given as to these associations. Instead, Powell’s argument
was built around the inference that Saddam had ‘grandiose plans’ to ‘exact revenge
on those who oppose him’, thus, it was too much of a risk for the US and the world
community generally to continue without directly confronting his intransigent stance.
Despite these claims, Powell subsequently argued that there was little debate in the
White House as to whether or not to plan for an invasion of Iraq, with Vice President
Richard Cheney in particular pressuring the State Department to pursue the case at
the UN, an act he describes as ‘one of my most momentous failures’ (Powell, 2012).
‘Operation Iraqi Freedom’

On 19 March 2003, the United States, in cooperation with the United Kingdom
and the so-called ‘Coalition of the Willing’ launched ‘Operation Iraqi Freedom’.
The operation was launched outside of UN authorisation, creating a great deal of
international controversy and criticism of the US and its Coalition partners, both
inside and outside the region. Indeed, the lead-up to the war and the subversion
of UN authority would take on added controversy with the revelation by the Iraq
Study Group that Iraq had discontinued all WMD programmes in 1991 and there
were no links between Iraq and al-Qaeda.
‘Shock and Awe’
The Coalition of the Willing refers to states that supported the military intervention
in Iraq (the numbers are the total number of initial troops committed by each).
By the end of 2003, this comprised: US (150,000), UK (46,000), South Korea (3600), Italy
(3200), Poland (2500), Australia (2000), Georgia (2000), Ukraine (1650), the Netherlands
(1345), Spain (1300), Romania (730), Denmark (545), Bulgaria (485), Thailand (423), El
Salvador (380), Honduras (368), Dominican Republic (302), Czech Republic (300), Hungary
(300), Azerbaijan (250), Albania (240), Nicaragua (230), Mongolia (180), Singapore (175),
Norway (150), Latvia (136), Portugal (128), Lithuania (120), Slovakia (110), Macedonia
(77), New Zealand (61), Philippines (51), Kazakhstan (29), Moldova (24) and Iceland (2).
The initial military operation was quick, leading to the fall of Baghdad on 9 April
and the formal removal of Baàth Party rule on 1 May 2003. The 21-day mili-
tary operation commenced with a massive aerial bombardment of Iraqi military
sites across the country as well as the targeting of other key government facilities.
This so-called ‘Shock and Awe’ strategy was designed to paralyse Iraqi military
capacity before the arrival of the initial ground forces comprising 148,000 US sol-
diers, 45,000 British soldiers, 2000 Australian soldiers and 194 Polish soldiers. This
would be supplemented by troops from a range of countries during and after 2003.
In the wake of the bombing campaign, the ground force invasion saw the rapid
disintegration of the Iraqi army. This led to quick proclamations of victory, with
President Bush appearing on the deck of aircraft carrier the USS Abraham Lincoln
on 1 May to proclaim the end of major combat operations. However, even with the
capture of Saddam Hussein on 13 December 2003, the occupation forces faced an
ongoing resistance in the form of Baàth Party loyalists, Islamist insurgents and other
armed groups that continued to challenge the foreign military occupation of Iraq.
The Looting of Baghdad and the Disintegration of the Iraqi State
The Grand Bargain refers to an approach made by the Iranian regime to the US on
4 May 2003, via the Swiss Ambassador in Tehran, for a full peace treaty between the
two states. Allegedly, the bargain involved full Iranian acceptance of the two-state
solution in the Israeli–Palestinian conflict, an end to support for terrorist organisations,
cooperation with the US in Iraq and Afghanistan, a comprehensive security agreement
with the Arab Gulf states, and the suspension of Iran’s nuclear programme.
In exchange, the US and Iran would establish full mutual diplomatic recognition as
well as a halt to calls for regime change in Tehran. The US never replied to the approach,
and it was withdrawn after the deterioration of the security situation in Iraq after 2004.
Before the outbreak of widespread insurgency in Iraq, there were signs of the rapid
deterioration of the political and security environment. One indication of this was
the widespread looting that swept the country, particularly Baghdad, including the
stripping of Iraq’s rich cultural heritage as well as the looting of the country’s gov-
ernment departments.
This was important in a number of respects. First, the cultural heritage of Iraq,
one that dates back thousands of years, was not protected by the invasion forces as
lawlessness gripped Iraq in the weeks and months following the invasion. In con-
trast, Iraq’s oil ministry was immediately placed under direct US control, leading
to allegations that the invasion force was not one of liberation but exploitation.
Regardless of the validity of these claims, they began to undercut the legitimacy of
the US presence in Iraq. Second, the stripping of Iraq’s physical infrastructure, from
ministerial records to hospital and other equipment, handicapped the capacity of
the local administration to function after the invasion. This was a process that was
compounded by the so-called ‘de-Baàthification’ programme that saw the dismissal
of the Iraqi army as well as the entire management of the Iraqi public sector.
The Coalition Provisional Authority and ‘Operation

Iraqi Prosperity’
The de-Baàthification policy was the first act of the post-invasion political author-
ity established by the US, the Coalition Provisional Authority (CPA). The CPA
was established under Security Council Resolution 1483 (2003) that terminated
all sanctions on Iraq and passed authority to the US and UK as the legal governing
authorities in Iraq. In this regard, the US and UK were charged with implementing
a transitional administration, an administration that came with the CPA.
Created on 21 April 2003, the CPA quickly courted controversy. Resolution
1483 called for a rapid transfer of authority to Iraqi control, something backed by
key local figures such as Shià leader Ayatollah Àli as-Sistani and the first head
of the CPA, General Jay Garner. However, disagreement over this issue led to the
dismissal of Garner and his replacement by L. Paul Bremer on 11 May. Bremer
then quickly implemented the de-Baàthification policy, the CPA’s General Order
Number 1, on 16 May.
Alongside this trend was an effort to fully restructure the future economy of Iraq
under the CPA’s General Order Number 39 of 21 September 2003. As was discussed
in Chapter 6, economic reforms have moved towards the implementation of neolib-
eral models. The Bush administration saw in Iraq the opportunity to create the ideal
model of such reforms, with Order 39 providing for ‘complete foreign ownership of
Iraqi companies and assets (apart from natural resources), total overseas remittance
of profits and some of the lowest taxes in the world’ (Coalition Provisional Authority,
2003). The reforms contained here were dubbed ‘Operation Iraqi Prosperity’, and
were an effort to remake the normative landscape of the region.
The pressure for a transition of authority increasingly came to bear on the CPA
with their drafting and introduction of the Transitional Administrative Law (TAL) on
8 March 2004. The TAL was implemented after domestic pressures in Iraq for reform
and the growing evidence of insurgent unrest. From this, elections for a local transi-
tional administration were held, despite protests from the CPA, on 30 January 2005.
These elections were boycotted by the major Sunni parties, with the Shià United Iraqi
Alliance gaining a majority in both the new parliament and the committee that would
draft Iraq’s new constitution, which was formalised on 15 October 2005.
The Iraqi Insurgency and the Ramifications of the

Invasion 2003–2008
Despite these political changes, by June 2003, the presumption that the invasion of
Iraq would be over by the end of the year started to unravel, with the emergence
of a variety of insurgent groups across the country. Throughout the conflict, there
was not one single militant movement that dominated the security landscape. In
addition, the violence was not only directed towards the US, with attacks between
the groups as well as attacks on civilian parties.
Whilst estimates on the number and size of groups vary dramatically, one can
identify three main groups involved in violence alongside the Coalition forces. First,
a group of nationalist and former regime loyalists, including Baàth militants as well
as self-defined nationalists; second, a range of Shià militias, including members
of the Badr Organisation as well as followers of Muqtada as-Sadr, particularly the
Mahdi Army; and third, a range of Islamist militias, including the newly formed
al-Qaeda in Iraq under the leadership of Jordanian militant Abu Musab al-Zarqawi
(see Chapter 7).
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Figure 10.2 The so-called ‘Sunni Triangle’

During the last half of 2003, the power vacuum in the country combined with
the presence of a large foreign military saw sporadic, largely uncoordinated violence
emerge throughout the country. This violence took more definable shape in 2004 as
a result of the de-Baàthification programme, full political control wielded by the
CPA and the arrival of foreign militants.
Baàthists and Nationalists
Cited in Zaki Chebab, Iraq Ablaze: Inside the Insurgency (London: I.B. Tauris, 2006: 7):
Author’s conversation with an Iraqi ‘nationalist’ insurgent June 2003: ‘We started
this national front with ten people. We then opened it up to more people, and with
the help of the faithful and those who believe in our cause, we have expanded to
the extent that we have bases or cells all over Iraq. People join us from all walks
of life. Those who cannot fight support us financially. We don’t have any connec-
tions at all with Saddam’s regime. We are all trained, as most of us took part in
the Iran–Iraq War, but occasionally young recruits ask us for training. We tend to
hold training sessions when we get together as a group so that each one of us
knows how to use the weapons of other members in case something happens
to them. We have bases in Basra, Mosul, Baghdad, and in … towns in al-Anbar
Province: al-Qaem, Haditha, Anah, Hit, Fallujah, and al-Ramadi. There is plenty of
coordination going on between these different groups and bases.’
Here, the Baàthists and Iraqi nationalists began implementing a number of

attacks in the Sunni heartland of Iraq north of Baghdad. Many of those active
in these groups drew primarily from former members of the military and others
displaced from the government after 2003. This saw the US focus on the so-called
‘Sunni Triangle’ (Figure 10.2) as the base of insurgent activity from 2004. This area
included the major cities of Fallujah, Samarra and Ramadi as well as Tikrit, the
home of Saddam Hussein.
The deterioration of the situation through the end of 2003 and the start of 2004
saw the US implement a range of counter-insurgency operations that led to further
militarisation of the Iraqi environment. Indeed, according to reports from inside
Iraq, these operations pushed many Iraqis towards either passive support for or
active involvement in the insurgency. As one senior member in the Sunni village of
Samarra put it, attacks on the Americans increased at this time as their operations
‘all lead to bitterness and hatred, and so people resort to violence to take revenge’
(cited in Chebab, 2006: 12).
Perhaps the best example of this deterioration was the US occupation of Fallujah
after April 2003. The US troop presence sparked immediate protests, with one
such protest on 28 April leading to US troops firing on crowds in an effort to dis-

perse them. Seventeen deaths resulted, sparking successive rounds of confrontation
between locals and US troops. Throughout the rest of 2003 and early 2004, attacks
on US forces and civilian contractors increased. By April 2004, Fallujah had become
a hotbed of unrest, with the US surrounding and laying siege to the city. Attempts
at a negotiated settlement proved unsuccessful, with allegations of US use of snipers
and cluster bombs and insurgent use of rockets and bombings. By May, US forces
withdrew to the outskirts of the city leaving the insurgents in control of the city
and claiming victory.
This situation continued through to 8 November, when a combined force of
US and newly trained Iraqi soldiers stormed the city with the estimated 6000
insurgents fleeing. However, this offensive drew international debate for the use
of cluster bombs and white phosphorus during the offensive. This was particularly
controversial as white phosphorus is an incendiary weapon, whose use in civilian
areas is considered illegal under international law.
Shià Militias
Whilst the Baàthists and nationalists were a key part of the insurgency, the first
attack on US forces came from the Shià militants, namely the ‘Mahdi Army’ led
by Muqtada as-Sadr. This attack came on 18 April 2004, sparking confrontations
between the US and the Mahdi Army lasting to June, then again from August 2004
until 2008. During this time, as-Sadr was intermittently involved in the political
process as well as in militant activities.
As-Sadr’s core of support is drawn from the predominantly Shià districts of
Baghdad’s ‘Sadr City’. This group took control of this area after the fall of Hussein’s
regime in early 2003 as well as of a number of Shià-majority cities south of
Baghdad. Alongside its militant activities, the group has been involved in providing
food and health services to the communities in its areas of control, helping establish
a large community of support. This support also grew from as-Sadr remaining in
Iraq under Saddam Hussein’s rule, whilst other Shià leaders had sought refuge in
Iran. In this regard, there has been much written about the apparent influence of
Iran over the now dominant Shià parties and movements in Iraq. However, whilst
there are links between Iran and other leaders, such as Sayyed Ammar al-Hakim
and Ayatollah Àli as-Sistani, as-Sadr has publicly rejected calls for an Iranian-style
Islamic Republic in Iraq (Arato, 2009).
Three hundred and eleven foreign fighters associated with al-Qaeda in Iraq were cap-
tured in Iraq from 2003 to 2005, coming from 27 countries. Their countries of origin were:
Egypt (78), Syria (66), Sudan (41), Saudi Arabia (32), Jordan (17), Iran (13), Palestinian
Territories (12), Tunisia (10), Algeria (8), Libya (7), Turkey (6), Lebanon (3), Qatar (2),
UAE (2), UK (2), India (2), Macedonia (1), Morocco (1), Somalia (1), Yemen (1), Israel (1),
Indonesia (1), Kuwait (1), Denmark (1), Ireland (1) and France (1).
From: Alan B. Krueger, ‘The National Origins of Foreign Fighters in Iraq’, American Economic
Association Annual Meeting, 2007.
In addition to the Mahdi Army, other Shià groups have been active in the fighting.
However, these groups, such as the Badr Brigades, exist between being part of the
official security apparatus and part of the insurgency. This has been a particular fea-
ture of Shià militias in Iraq, as many were active in opposing the regime of Saddam
Hussein, and were thus seen as natural allies of the US and Coalition forces after
2003. However, whilst members of these groups were incorporated into the new
Iraqi security services, they also conducted insurgent attacks on Sunni militias as
well as being part of alleged ethnic cleansing programmes across the country.
Sunni Islamist Militants

In terms of Sunni Islamist militants, this group was dominated by the emergence
of ‘Al-Qaeda in Iraq’ (or tanzim qaidat al-jihad fi bilad al rafidayn, ‘Organisation of
Jihad’s Base in the Country of the Two Rivers’) after 2003. This group and their
links to the broader al-Qaeda organisation were discussed in Chapter 7. Mirroring
the earlier development of al-Qaeda in Afghanistan through the 1980s, this organ-
isation drew on militants from across the Middle East and the broader Muslim
world who had travelled to Iraq to take up this particular vision of jihad.
Whilst this organisation was the smallest of the three insurgent groupings, it con-
ducted the most high-profile attacks during the peak of insurgent activity between
2004 and 2008. These included kidnappings and executions of Coalition service
personnel, the use of improvised explosive devices (IEDs) against both military
and civilian targets, as well as direct involvement in the targeting of non-Sunni and
non-Muslim communities across the country. Indeed, focus on this movement was
made more intense due to the ongoing controversy over the alleged links between
the Hussein regime and al-Qaeda as well as the effort to enfold the Iraq War into
the broader logic of the War on Terror (see Chapter 7).
The Human and Material Costs of the Conflict

Understanding the costs of any war is difficult, particularly in terms of how to mea-
sure the impacts of violence on the lives of people living in a war zone. However,
by any measurement, the war in Iraq has had a profound and devastating impact on
Table 10.1 Major al-Qaeda in Iraq bombings (2003–8)
Attack Casualties Attack Casualties
7 Aug. Jordanian 17 killed, 28 Feb. Iraqi Police HQ, 127 killed,

2003 Embassy, 40 injured 2005 al-Hillah 300+ injured
Baghdad
19 Aug. UN HQ, Baghdad 22 killed, 16 Jul. Public market, 100+ killed,
2003 100 injured 2005 Musayyib 150+ injured
29 Aug. Imam Ali mosque, 83 killed, 17 Aug. Bus stations, 43 killed, 76
2003 Najaf 500+ 2005 Baghdad injured
injured
27 Oct. Red Cross HQ, 35 killed, 14 Sep. Public square, 160 killed,
2003 Baghdad 244 injured 2005 Baghdad 570 injured
12 Nov. Italian Military 28 killed, 18 Nov. Shià mosques, 75+ killed,
2003 Police HQ, 103 injured 2005 Khanaqin 100+ injured
Nasiriyah
27 Dec. Coalition military 20 killed, 5 Jan. Public squares, 120+ killed,
2003 barracks, Karbala 200+ 2006 Karbala and 120+ injured
injured Ramadi
2 Feb. PUK HQ, Irbil 117 killed, 7 Apr. Buratha 85 killed, 160
2004 133 injured 2006 mosque, injured
Baghdad
2 Mar. Day of Ashura, 180+ 1 Jul. Public square, 62 killed, 114
2004 Karbala and killed, 2006 Sadr City, injured
Baghdad 500+ Baghdad
injured
21 Apr. Iraqi Police HQ, 74 killed, 23 Nov. Public squares, 215+ killed,
2004 Basra 100+ 2006 Sadr City, 250+ injured
injured Baghdad
24 Jun. Iraqi Police HQ, 60+ killed, 22 Jan. Bab al-Sharqi 88 killed, 160
2004 Mosul 220+ 2007 market, injured
injured Baghdad
28 Jul. Public market, 68 killed, 3 Feb. Public market, 135 killed,
2004 Baquba 30+ injured 2007 Baghdad 339 injured
14 Sep. Iraqi Police HQ, 47 killed, 18 Feb. Public squares, 63 killed,
2004 Baghdad 114 injured 2007 Baghdad 120+ injured
30 Sep. Water treatment 40+ killed, 6 Mar. Religious 115 killed,
2004 plant, Baghdad 130+ 2007 festival, Al- 250+ injured
injured Hillah
19 Dec. Shi ` a mosques, 70+ killed, 27 Mar. Public square, 152 killed,
2004 Karbala and Najaf 100+ 2007 Tal Afar 347 injured
injured
Attack Casualties Attack Casualties
29 Mar. Public market, 82 killed, 14 Aug. Yazidi targets, 796 killed,

2007 Baghdad 138 injured 2007 Mosul 1562 injured
18 Apr. Public squares, 198 killed, 6 Mar. Public market, 68 killed, 120
2007 Baghdad 251 injured 2008 Baghdad injured
28 Apr. Imam Abbas 68 killed, 17 Mar. Public square, 58 killed,
2007 mosque, Karbala 162 injured 2008 Karbala 100+ injured
19 Jun. Al-Khilani 87 killed, 17 Jun. Bus station, 51 killed, 75
2007 mosque, Baghdad 218 injured 2008 Baghdad injured
26 Jul. Public market, 92 killed, 12 Sep. Police station, 31 killed, 60
2007 Baghdad 127 injured 2008 Dujail injured
the country as well as on the US and Coalition forces. Whilst debate continues over
the relative merits of the arguments justifying the invasion, these remain conjecture
in the face of the scale of the damage that the conflict wrought on this already
war-weary country.
Impacts on Iraqi Civilians

Efforts to quantify the costs of war have been highly controversial due to the intense
political debates that have surrounded this conflict. This controversy first erupted
in 2004 when the British medical journal The Lancet published an article which
claimed that close to 100,000 Iraqi civilians had died in the first year of the conflict.
Criticisms of this article centred on questions over the ability to gain accurate data
or that this was part of a political effort to discredit the war effort. The authors
of the report defended its findings, arguing that the death toll of the war should
include both direct combat-related casualties as well as deaths that occurred as a
result of the general impacts of the conflict. Thus, deaths that occurred as a result of
deteriorating health conditions, starvation and malnutrition and other related issues
should be included as casualties occurring from the conflict (Roberts et al., 2004).
Smaller, yet still considerable estimates are given by the group Iraq Body Count
(IBC), which has compiled a list of reported casualties as a result of the violence.
From 2003 to 2012, IBC puts this at 115,367 civilian casualties. Similar figures
are given by Brown University’s ‘Costs of War’ Project, which has estimated over
126,000 civilian deaths as a result of violence since 2003 (see also Table 10.2).
As mentioned above, the physical destruction of the country has had a range of
impacts on the Iraqi population. The Costs of War Project puts the number of total
refugees as a result of the conflict at over 3 million people, including an estimated
Table 10.2 Estimated Iraqi civilian deaths (2003–11, Brookings Institution estimates*)
Civilian Casualties Annual % Change
2003 7,300 -
2004 16,800 +130.1%
2005 20,200 +20.2%
2006 34,500 +70.8%
2007 23,600 -31.6%
2008 6,400 -72.9%
2009 3,000 -53.1%
2010 2,500 -16.7%
2011 1,578 -36.9%
Cumulative Total 115,878
*
Figures include only casualties reported by the CPA and Iraqi government.
1.5 million internally displaced persons. In addition, roughly 1 million refugees fled
to Syria, 500,000 to Jordan, 150,000 to Europe, 48,000 to Iran, 30,000 to Lebanon,
6600 to Turkey and 5400 to the US.
The human cost of the war was also felt in terms of excesses by both the US and
new Iraqi forces. Here, Iraqi security forces were implicated in a range of alleged
human rights violations, including torture, coercion, arrest without charge and
extortion. US forces were also implicated in a number of these issues, including the
infamous Abu Ghraib prisoner abuse scandal. This scandal involved the torture and
ritual humiliation of Iraqi prisoners in the former Baàth Party prison, and came to
light when photos of the abuse were leaked to the 60 Minutes programme, sparking
widespread condemnation across the globe, and perpetuating the increasing suspi-
cion of US motives by Iraqis.
In addition, the issue of public health in Iraq remains critical. The Iraqi health
system had suffered from massive shortages throughout the 1990s, a situation that
worsened dramatically after the 2003 invasion, with widespread shortages of vac-
cinations against diseases such as polio, diphtheria, whooping cough, tetanus and
measles. There has also been a trend for medical professionals to flee the country in
the face of the deteriorating security situation. As such, shortages of both supplies
and skilled personnel have impacted primarily on the vulnerable members of Iraqi
society, particularly children and the elderly.
This question of population movements reveals a further disturbing result of
the violence. In particular, there have been allegations of mass population move-
ments akin to ethnic cleansing across the country, particularly in Baghdad and the
strategically important city of Kirkuk in the north. The broader implications of this
Table 10.3 Troop deployments in Iraq* (2003–10)
US Other Total Annual % Change
2003 132,000 25,605 157,605 -

2004 142,000 23,306 165,306 +4.9%
2005 155,000 20,560 175,560 +6.2%
2006 160,000 19,500 179,500 +2.2%
2007 163,245 11,755 175,000 -2.5%
2008 150,000 840 150,840 -14.3%
2009 120,000 0 120,000 -20.0%
2010 49,700 0 49,700 -58.6%
*
Figures calculated at year’s end.
in terms of the levels of violence in the country are explored below. However, this
process had a profound effect on Iraq’s minority groups, particularly the Turkmen,
Assyrian Christian and Yazidi communities.
As with all demographic figures in contemporary Iraq, it is difficult to gain accu-
rate statistics on numbers. However, these groups constitute an estimated 5%, or
1.5 million of Iraq’s roughly 30 million citizens. Other estimates put this num-
ber higher, particularly for the Turkmen population. As is discussed below, this is
important in debates concerning the political future of Iraq, where demographics
will have a critical impact on the future of Kirkuk and its valuable oil resources.
Impacts on the US
Whilst the brunt of the violence has been felt by the Iraqi population, the US and
Coalition forces also suffered tremendous losses in this conflict. By the start of
2012, 4486 US service personnel (see Table 10.4) and 318 service personnel from
the other Coalition countries as well as 1537 civilian contractors had been killed in
Iraq. In addition, it is estimated that 99,065 US service personnel and 51,031 US
civilian contractors (150,096 total) were injured during this period.
However, as with the broader impacts on the Iraqi population outlined above,
the impacts on US and other Coalition personnel have wider ramifications. In par-
ticular, the scope of US troop numbers in Iraq (see Table 10.3) saw large numbers
of US service personnel return from duty suffering post-traumatic stress disorder
and a variety of undiagnosed injuries, including mental illness. These legacies of
the conflict are also felt by those who were wounded, many now living with signifi-
cant physical injuries after their service. These impacts also extend to the economic
realm. In the lead-up to the war, the Bush administration estimated that the total
war effort would not exceed $60 billion. In this respect, former Secretary of Defense
Table 10.4 Casualties of US service personnel in Iraq (2003–11)
Casualties Annual % Change
2003 486 -
2004 849 +74.7%
2005 846 -0.4%
2006 823 -2.7%
2007 904 +9.8%
2008 314 -65.3%
2009 149 -52.5%
2010 60 -59.7%
2011 54 -10.0%
Total 4485
Donald Rumsfeld claimed, on 2 October 2003, that Iraqi reconstruction would

‘come from Iraqis – from oil revenues, recovered assets, international trade, direct
foreign investment – as well as some contributions we’ve already received and hope
to receive from the international community’ (cited in Murphy, 2011).
As was outlined above, part of this programme was to be funded by the liber-
alisation of the Iraqi economy. However, the failure of this programme to generate
resources, alongside the collapse of the state and the continuing violence, saw the
financial burden for the war and reconstruction effort fall back on the US tax pay-
ers. Here, estimates put the total cost of the war at over $3 trillion across the US
economy. This has had profound impacts on both the US and global economies and
helped facilitate the global financial crisis from 2007. The financial cost (see Table
10.5) also includes estimates of over $9 billion in reconstruction financing as well
as over $500 million in parts and munitions, including several hundred thousand
firearms that went missing between 2003 and 2004.
Declining Violence
As violence peaked in 2007 and 2008, a variety of factors contributed to a drop-off
in these levels from this point through to the formal withdrawal of US troops on
31 December 2011. At the time, President Bush’s so-called ‘troop surge’ of 2007,
the commitment of 20,000 additional troops on top of the existing deployment
of over 150,000 service personnel, was highlighted as the key to the decrease in
attacks. However, three other factors were more important in halting the violence:
the post-2005 ‘National Council for the Awakening of Iraq’ (al-majlis al-watani
Table 10.5 Estimated US expenditures on the Iraq conflict (2003–12, Congressional

Research Service estimates*)
Expenditures (US$ billions) Annual % Change
2003 53.0 -
2004 75.9 +43.2%
2005 85.5 +12.6%
2006 101.6 +18.8%
2007 131.2 +29.1%
2008 142.1 +8.3%
2009 95.5 -32.8%
2010 71.3 -25.3%
2011 49.3 -30.9%
2012 17.7 -64.1%
Total 823.1
*
Figures include only funds requested through the US Congress during these financial years.
li-inqadh alÌraq), the March 2008 offensive against the Mahdi Army in Basra, and
the movement of populations including ethnic cleansing across Iraq.
The ‘National Council for the Awakening of Iraq’

As discussed above, two of the three main insurgent clusters, the Baàthists/
Nationalists and the Islamist radicals, were based in Iraq’s Sunni community. Here,
the US and Coalition forces found their counter-insurgency operations against the
former groups the most difficult, due largely to the levels of popular support they
enjoyed, in contrast to the actions of the Islamist organisations. Where counter-
insurgency operations met with some success, this was limited. A change of direc-
tion came in 2005 when middle-ranking US army officers opened discussions
with tribal elders in the Sunni-majority areas of Iraq’s central-north. These discus-
sions came about as a result of common antagonism towards the radical Islamist
movements, that both parties saw as counter to their own interests.
In exchange for arms, money, training and the promise of badly needed jobs,
many of the large Sunni tribes who had previously fought the US agreed to stop
targeting US and Coalition forces and direct their attention towards combating the
Islamist movements as well as maintaining law and order in their respective regions.
By 2008, it was estimated that over 50,000 Sunnis had joined one of the many ad
hoc ‘Awakening’ councils. However, whilst this development, probably more than
any other, contributed to the sharp decrease in violence from 2006 and 2007, it led
to other problems, as the Iraqi government became increasingly reliant on these

groups for general security matters. This was problematic since the leaders of these
groups were largely unmonitored, often using their control over vast regions to
engage in criminal activities and to extort funds from residents. From 2012, the
April 2006
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Figure 10.3 The separation of sectarian communities in Baghdad

Source: Gene Thorp and Dita Smith, ‘Changing Baghdad’, The Washington Post, 15 December 2007.
Iraqi government continued to rely on these forces for the maintenance of order in
many regions across the country.
The Basra Offensive

With many of the Sunni insurgent movements halting attacks, the 25 March 2008
offensive on Basra helped offset attacks from the largest Shià militia, the Mahdi
Army. Ceasefires had been implemented with intermittent success between the US
and the Mahdi Army from 2004 to 2008. However, this situation broke down by
early 2008. In the first major offensive led by the new Iraqi security forces, the
Mahdi Army stronghold in the southern city of Basra was attacked over the last
week of March. After intense fighting, including an estimated 300 casualties, the
Iraqi, US and Coalition forces subdued the militias and secured Basra. This led to
the Mahdi Army ceasing military operations, and committing instead to involve-
ment in the nascent political system in the country.
Ethnic Cleansing and a New Demographic Map in Iraq

Whilst strategic and tactical initiatives such as the ‘Awakening’ councils and the
Basra offensive were important in decreasing levels of violence, the effects of what
may be defined as ethnic cleansing were also significant, if not central. Indeed,
the violence from 2004 became increasingly defined in terms of sectarian conflict
rather than attacks on US and Coalition forces. This exhibited various trends in
different parts across the country.
For instance, in Baghdad, neighbourhoods that were previously mixed between
Sunni and Shià communities had become almost exclusively populated by one
or the other of these sects by the end of 2007. Here, the city became increasingly
‘cantonised’ between sectarian neighbourhoods, such as the Shià in Sadr City and
Zafaraniyah and Sunni neighbourhoods of al-Mansour and Dora. These neigh-
bourhoods also became increasingly closed, with local militias guarding access into
and out of the areas.
As mentioned above, the conflict also saw large numbers of the smaller ethnic
and religious groups either flee the country or become displaced within Iraq. This
was a situation particularly pronounced in the northern city of Kirkuk. The status
of Kirkuk remains unresolved in terms of the federal system in the country, a point
of contest between the Kurdish, Sunni Arab, Turkmen and Christian populations
in terms of control over this oil-rich region.
US Withdrawal and the Future of Iraq

From 2007, debate over the future of the US troop presence in Iraq increasingly
centred on debates over questions of if, how and when this deployment would end.
The response of the Bush administration to pressure from various fronts for the
withdrawal of troops was repeated statements refusing to outline a withdrawal plan,
arguing that this was a ‘white flag of surrender’. Despite this, plans were in place as
early as 2008 for a draw-down of troops, plans given increasing impetus in light of
the worsening security situation in America’s other major deployment, Afghanistan.
These plans manifested in the 2008 Status of Forces Agreement (SOFA), the
blueprint for the future withdrawal implemented by President Obama up to 2010.
Approved by the Iraqi parliament, SOFA’s main element focused on a withdrawal
of all US forces from Iraqi cities by the end of June 2009. This was extended after
Obama took office to 31 August 2010, when the last US troops were withdrawn.
The New Iraqi Political System

In the wake of this massive military enterprise, including widespread casualties and
the virtual destruction of the physical infrastructure of the country, efforts have
been made to rebuild the political system in the country. This included a trans-
fer of power from the CPA to a new Iraqi government in 2005, the drafting of
a new constitution and the resolution of questions over the political structure of
the country. The first elections, boycotted by the major Sunni parties, saw the
election of the Shià-based United Iraqi Alliance under Prime Minister Ibrahim
al-Jafaari. However, Jafaari was replaced by Nouri al-Maliki in May 2006 due to
the continuing violence and lack of government services. Both Jaafari and Maliki
sought to create representative governments, with selected members of the largest
sectarian communities in key posts. However, the dominance of the Shià parties
was resented by many Sunnis, whilst the Kurdish parties were engaged in the fed-
eral system but also acted with increasing autonomy in the north and through the
Kurdish Regional Government.
Here, the Kurdish region had become, since 2003, a virtual state within a state,
seeing minimal violence on the back of efforts by Kurdish security forces, with the
exception of the contested city of Kirkuk. In addition, the Kurdish parliament, or
Perleman, administers most day-to-day affairs of the region under a coalition of the
Kurdish Democratic Party (KDP) and the Patriotic Union of Kurdistan (PUK).
This dysfunctional nature of the Iraqi political system is a key source of domestic
unrest, with its inability to provide regular essential government services such as
electricity, sanitation or health, in addition to the ongoing security issue. This has
been compounded by the ongoing controversy over the remaining ambiguities in the
Iraqi constitution. The March 2010 parliamentary elections reflected this instability,
with the banning of candidates before the poll and allegations of massive voter fraud.
The results of the election led to a deadlock between Ayad Allawi’s al-Iraqiyya
Party and Nouri al-Maliki’s State of Law Coalition. This led to the paralysis of
the government through 2010 as neither side could form a majority government,
with Maliki finally forming a new government by 22 December. However, this
did not lead to the stabilisation of the situation, with Sunni parties continuing to
voice scepticism of the Shià-dominated system, whilst others saw the sectarian-
based appointments as a portent of Iraq moving towards a Lebanese-style con-
fessional system, with the instability of this model sowing the seeds of perpetual
crises in Iraq.
US Intervention in Afghanistan
Whilst not part of the purview of this volume, the ongoing conflict in Afghanistan
has impacted on the Middle East in a variety of ways. The origins of the al-Qaeda
terrorist movement can be traced to resistance to the Soviet forces that had invaded
Afghanistan in 1979. In addition, the conflict in Afghanistan, alongside the US-led
invasion and occupation of Iraq, has worked to gradually undermine the legitimacy
and influence of the US since 2001.
This section will briefly outline the conflict in Afghanistan since the US-led
actions in response to the terrorist attacks of 11 September 2001. Here, essential
context is given around the origins and emergence of the Taleban, the troubled
deployment of the International Assistance and Reconstruction Force (ISAF) in
Afghanistan, and the influence of Pakistan in this conflict. This is not designed
to provide a comprehensive overview of Afghan politics, but as a supplement to
concurrent events in the Middle East since 2001 that have shaped the US engage-
ment with the region, particularly in terms of security issues and the so-called
‘War on Terror’.
The Taleban, Pakistan and al-Qaeda in Afghanistan

The first response to the 11 September 2001 attacks on the United States came
through ‘Operation Enduring Freedom’, a US-led military operation launched on
7 October 2001 to remove the Taleban regime from power. Now active for nearly
two decades, this conflict has become the longest conventional war the United
States has been involved with in its history. It has also led to questions over regional
stability, particularly in terms of the role of Pakistan, and has contributed to the
changing role of the US in the Middle East.
The Taleban and al-Qaeda

The Taleban regime had harboured al-Qaeda since their flight from Sudan in
1996 (see Chapter 7), providing a safe haven from which the organisation planned
and conducted its terrorist operations. The Taleban has its roots in the collapse of
central government authority in Afghanistan after the Soviet withdrawal in 1989
and the ensuing civil war that erupted in 1992. This conflict was a result of the
breakdown of the tenuous links between the various mujahedin anti-Soviet forces
as they competed for control over the country. This saw the emergence of a variety
of militias operating independently across the country, with widespread lawlessness
and destruction. In addition, many Afghans become involved in a flourishing trade
in opium production with the collapse of the Afghan economy (Tomsen, 2011).
This conflict dynamic changed in 1994 with the arrival of the Taleban. This
movement developed out of Afghan refugee camps in northwestern Pakistan, par-
ticularly those under the influence of staunchly conservative religious groups such
as Pakistan’s Jamiàt Ùlama-e-Islam (Assembly of Islamic Clergy, JUI), with fund-
ing from Pakistan’s Directorate for Inter-Services Intelligence (ISI), who saw this
as an opportunity for Islamabad to extend its influence over its northern neigh-
bour. Its origins in the madrassah (religious schools) of Pakistan and, later, southern
Afghanistan led to the use of the name Taleban, the Pashto word for ‘students’
(Rashid, 2010).
This movement began to consolidate from 1991, before establishing itself within
Afghanistan, in the southern city of Kandahar, by 1993. It espoused a hard-line
conservative religious vision for combating the chaos that plagued Afghan society,
combining literalist interpretations of shariàh with tribal law codes and the jihadist
worldview that had emerged with radical Islamist groups through the 1980s and
Table 10.6 Casualties of US service personnel in Afghanistan (2001–11)
Casualties Annual % Change
2001 12 -
2002 49 +308.3%
2003 48 -2.0%
2004 52 +8.3%
2005 99 +90.4%
2006 98 -1.0%
2007 117 +19.4%
2008 155 +32.3%
2009 317 +104.5%
2010 499 +57.4%
2011 418 -16.2%
Cumulative Total 1864
1990s (see Chapter 4). In this regard, the Taleban vigorously attacked any devia-
tion from its vision for Afghan society. Its military activities began in 1994 when
the group took the city of Kandahar, securing a base of operations and controlling
the critical border regions with Pakistan. Here, the strict form of rule imposed by the
movement was offset for many Afghans by the relative order they brought, seeing
popular support drain away from the warlords and allowing the movement to take
control of most of the country and the capital by the end of 1996 (Rashid, 2010).
Pre-existing links between senior Taleban figures and al-Qaeda members who
had fought in Afghanistan during the 1980s saw the organisation move back to
Afghanistan in 1996 under the newly established Islamic Emirate of Afghanistan.
It was from this base that al-Qaeda planned a number of high-profile attacks on
the US, including the bombing of US embassies in Kenya and Tanzania in 1998,
the attack on the USS Cole off the coast of Yemen in 2000 and the 11 September
2001 attacks.
‘Operation Enduring Freedom’

Taleban support for al-Qaeda saw Afghanistan become the first target of the
US response to the 11 September 2001 attacks with the launching of ‘Operation
Enduring Freedom’ on 7 October 2001. The initial rationale of the intervention was
the removal of the al-Qaeda safe haven in Afghanistan, including the removal of
the Taleban from power, to locate and prosecute those directly responsible for the
11 September attacks and to destroy the al-Qaeda organisation.
As discussed above in relation to the war in Iraq, the initial US operation in
Afghanistan was not authorised by the UN Security Council. However, the George
W. Bush administration argued that this intervention was legal under Article 51
of the UN Charter that allowed states to act in self-defence. In addition, the US
never formally declared war on Afghanistan, arguing that the Taleban, alongside
al-Qaeda, were terrorists or supporters of terrorist organisations rather than a state
army. This was a critical factor in the latter stages of the conflict where detainees
from this conflict were refused rights under the Geneva Protocol, and instead incar-
cerated as ‘unlawful combatants’ in prisons such as the Guantanamo Bay facility on
the island of Cuba.
In terms of the conflict itself, this also mirrored the trajectory of the con-
flict in Iraq, where the initial military intervention saw the quick collapse of the
regime followed by the emergence of an insurgency. Here, the al-Qaeda network
in Afghanistan was largely dismantled and the Taleban forces pushed into remote
pockets of Afghan territory or over the border into Pakistan by December 2001.
However, the Taleban was able to re-establish itself and re-commence operations
in Afghanistan by 2003.
The Ramifications of Continued Conflict in Afghanistan

The US-led presence in Afghanistan struggled to make progress in terms of polit-
ical development and, from 2003, the country also saw the re-emergence of the
Taleban from both southern Afghanistan and from across the border in Pakistan,
leading to a deteriorating security situation and an increase in casualties in both US
and other countries’ service personnel (see Table 10.7). This was a situation that
was linked to the conflict in Iraq, where the initial US deployment and its increase
through 2007 as part of the so-called troop ‘surge’ undermined the ability of the US
and its allies to conduct the war on this front with sufficient force (see Table 10.3
and discussion above).
Table 10.7 Casualties of service personnel by country in Afghanistan (2001–11)
Origin Casualties Origin Casualties Origin Casualties
Albania 1 Georgia 10 Poland 35

Australia 32 Germany 53 Portugal 2
Belgium 1 Hungary 7 Romania 19
Canada 158 Italy 47 South Korea 1
Czech Republic 5 Jordan 2 Spain 34
Denmark 42 Latvia 3 Sweden 5
Estonia 9 Lithuania 25 Turkey 14
Finland 2 New Zealand 6 UK 419
France 86 Norway 10 US 2022
The New Afghan Political System

The re-emergence of insurgent fighting alongside the often dysfunctional new
political system brought into question the rationale for continued Western involve-
ment in Afghanistan, an argument exploited by both the Taleban in Afghanistan
and militant movements in the Middle East and elsewhere to justify further attacks
on US forces and their allies. Indeed, the US-led presence in Afghanistan has been
heavily exploited in the rhetoric of radical neo-jihadist movements as another
instance of Western attacks on the Muslim world (see Chapters 4 and 7).
In terms of the new Afghan political system, this stemmed from an effort to draw
together key factions in Afghan society, including those who had fought alongside
the US-led forces from 2001. The first steps came in the December 2001 Bonn
Agreement under the authority of a senior figure within the Pashtun community,
Hamid Karzai. The Bonn Agreement also set in place a structure for the drafting
of a new constitution and the convening of a loya jirga (Grand Assembly) that
met in June–July 2002, formally appointing Karzai as the President of the Afghan
Transitional Administration (Maley, 2006: 33).
The Pashtun are an ethnic group that live on the Afghan–Pakistan border, and form
the largest ethnic group in Afghanistan. The links between the Pashtun populations on
either side of the border are strong, making this border region highly porous and dif-
ficult to control for either government.
In addition there is the political structure on the Pakistani side of the border, where
there is minimal Pakistani government authority in the North-West Frontier Province
(NWFP) and the Federally-Administered Tribal Areas (FATA), with authority there wielded
primarily by local notables and tribal leaders. It is estimated that 30 million Pashtun live
in Pakistan and 13 million in Afghanistan.
However, despite being re-elected in 2004 and 2009, the Karzai administration
has struggled to restore law and order, economic viability, or curb corruption and
government excesses. In addition, the government remains vulnerable to Taleban
attacks, with the Afghan security services vulnerable to Taleban infiltration. The
Afghan government as well as the US-led forces have also been unable to curb
opium production, which has boomed since 2001 with the continued stagnation of
the Afghan economy.
Drone Strikes, US Security and its Legacy

The original intent of the US intervention in Afghanistan was the destruction
of the al-Qaeda network and depriving it, or other militant organisations, of any
future potential safe havens. In pursuit of this, the US government has employed a
number of highly controversial tactics alongside the ground invasions of two coun-
tries. Together with allegations of human rights abuses through torture and other
activities, the use of unmanned ‘Predator’ drones has been increasingly controversial.
These drones conduct air strikes against suspected insurgent targets, often resulting
in heavy collateral damage. Here, these attacks are increasingly highlighted as rea-
sons why the people of Afghanistan and, increasingly, Pakistan have continued to
support the Taleban. As discussed above, the use of controversial tactics, ostensibly
in the prosecution of the War on Terror, has fed into a cycle of further violence and
instability, not only in Afghanistan and Pakistan, but in the Middle East and else-
where (Schmitt and Shanker, 2011).
Post-Iraq US Interventionism in the Middle East

Alongside the major interventions, including the commitment of large numbers of
ground troops as well as engagement in ‘state-building’ in Iraq and Afghanistan, the
US has also been involved in security activities in Yemen and Somalia. As with the
recent emerging patterns in Afghanistan, the interventions in Yemen and Somalia have
focused on the use of unmanned drone strikes aimed at suspected militant strongholds
of al-Qaeda in the Arabian Peninsula in Yemen and of al-shabaab in Somalia.
The Politics of Drone Strikes

Unmanned drones had been used under previous administrations, but were used
with increasing frequency by the Obama administration. Here, the administration
sought to justify the use of this tactic in terms strikingly similar to those used to
sanction the US-led invasion and occupation of Iraq. Specifically, this focused on
the logic of ‘pre-emptive defence’, or the elimination of threats deemed imminent.
The controversy surrounding this tactic stems from the civilian casualties associ-
ated with its use. This has gained added controversy in terms of the identification of
those targeted through the use of so-called ‘signature’ strikes. This activity involves
deploying drone strikes against targets based on signature patterns. These patterns
are drawn from intelligence reports on probability of behaviour, that is, an esti-
mate of where a target is likely to be. However, this has proven an inexact mode of
operation, increasing the risk of civilian casualties and thus feeding into the broader
antagonism generated by these tactics.
This is a controversy that has resonated not only at the local level but internation-
ally, with a number of international non-government organisations, human rights
associations and even the UN releasing reports sharply critical of the practice. On
21 June 2012, UN Special Rapporteur on Extrajudicial, Summary or Arbitrary
Executions, Christof Heyns, stated that signature strike practices ‘weaken the rule of
law’ and whilst they ‘may be lawful in an armed conflict … many target[ed] killings
take place far from areas where it’s recognised as being an armed conflict’ (cited in
Glaser, 2012). This is significant as it has called into question the legality of US gov-
ernment actions vis-à-vis drone strikes, leaving open the possibility for legal action
to be taken against the US government through the International Court of Justice.
US Interventions in Yemen
The focus of recent US interventions in Yemen has been an effort to target the
activities of al-Qaeda in the Arabian Peninsula after their formation in 2009 (see
Chapter 7). However, US engagement with the Yemeni government had been active
since 2001, as had been similar relationships between the US and other regional
regimes, such as the US and Algeria, the US and Egypt and many other bilateral
connections. However, US intervention in Yemen has taken on a more direct and
controversial role with the increasing reliance on drone strikes since 2011.
Unlike many other states in the region, Yemen contends with a range of other
conflicts alongside the presence of Islamist militancy. These include a Shià insur-
gency in the north, ongoing tribal conflict across the country, the re-emergence of
a separatist movement in the south of the country, continued problems associated
with the low levels of economic development in the country (see Chapter 6) and
unrest associated with the ‘Arab Spring’ (see Chapter 9). Each of these factors has
complicated the security situation, not just in the southern Arabian Peninsula, but
throughout the Middle East and even into eastern Africa.
Alongside the increased use of drones, since 2012 the US, and more specifically the
CIA, has been increasingly active in training senior Yemeni military officials. There
are also unconfirmed reports of the use of Special Operations groups in conjunc-
tion with Yemeni government forces in targeting alleged al-Qaeda in the Arabian
Peninsula strongholds. However, as with other US military interventions, there
have been strong criticisms that insufficient attention is being paid to the broader
issues related to human security and development in Yemen (Phillips, 2010). As
outlined in Chapter 6, Yemen lags behind in almost all indicators of development, a
situation that has worsened since 2010 to the point that international humanitarian
agencies now estimate that over 40% of the population have insufficient access to
food, adequate sanitation and potable water, with over 1 million children suffering
from malnutrition and over 500,000 people internally displaced.
The collapse of the government of Ali Abdullah Saleh and his replacement by
Abd al-Rab Mansur al-Hadi on 26 February 2012 has seen a reiteration of the
security focus of the US government. Here, the US has implemented new plans
for training Yemeni counter-terrorism forces to weaken al-Qaeda in the Arabian
Peninsula, particularly after the successful targeting of former leader Anwar al-
Awlaki by drone strike on 30 September 2011.
US Interventions in Somalia
US activities in Somalia have been more difficult to quantify than even those in
Yemen. This is largely due to the complete lack of governance in Somalia and the
controversial nature of previous US interventions in the Horn of Africa between
1992 and 1994. The first US intervention followed the collapse of the central gov-
ernment in Mogadishu and the outbreak of civil war in the country. There were
25,000 US troops deployed in December 1992 (‘Operation Restore Hope’) in sup-
port of the UN Operation in Somalia (UNOSOM) to assist in the delivery of
humanitarian relief. The deteriorating security situation resulted in a failed security

operation, leading to the deaths of 18 US service personnel as well as 84 wounded
(Harper, 2012).
The subsequent withdrawal of US troops occurred alongside the descent of
Somalia into a state of lawlessness for the next decade and a half, with the country
divided between competing factions and warlords, combined with a humanitarian
crisis that has led to over 1 million deaths from starvation and similar numbers
displaced both internally and externally. Despite repeated efforts towards the
establishment of rule by the Transitional Federal Government (TFG), the country
remains largely lawless.
US re-engagement with Somalia came on the back of the rise of the Islamic
Courts Union (ICU) in Somalia in 2006. Similar to the rise of the Taleban in
Afghanistan, the ICU emerged as a strictly conservative Islamist movement that
was able to generate support and extend its authority through establishing relative
levels of security and stability in the areas under its control. Here, it was able to
displace established ‘warlords’ in the southern portion of Somalia and take control
of Mogadishu.
The rise of the ICU led the TFG to request international intervention. This
prompted an invasion by neighbouring Ethiopia in July 2006 who feared the spread
of ICU influence over its own Muslim population. By the end of 2006, the Ethiopian
government had defeated the ICU forces, seeing them withdraw from Mogadishu.
However, the disbanding of the ICU saw a splinter group calling itself harakat al-
shabaab al-mujahedin (‘Movement of the Striving Youth’, or simply al-shabaab/the
youth) emerge on the Somali scene in 2010, who announced their affiliation with
al-Qaeda in June 2012 (Harper, 2012).
Central to US interests here have been the reprised statement that Somalia, like
Yemen and Afghanistan before it, provides a potential terrorist safe haven where
attacks can be planned and implemented. Again like Yemen and Afghanistan, the
US have responded with a number of policies that have increasingly centred on the
use of unmanned drone strikes as well as clandestine counter-terrorist activities
aimed at eliminating key members of these organisations. And again, the dilemma
in terms of implementing security priorities that lead to greater resentment and
insecurity has become a dominant theme of US intervention in the region.
Case Study: Libya

The Libyan political system under Muammar Gaddhafi was characterised by the
lack of formal political institutions, arbitrary rule, harsh repression of opposition
sentiment and personalised control by Gaddhafi, his family and a network of close
associates. Whilst Gaddhafi had proclaimed that Libya was a model of direct
democracy, this was a cover for the lack of any accountability of the actions of the
central government, where access to power depended on a person or group’s rela-
tionship with the central authority.
This was the situation that had shaped political life in Libya. For instance,
Gaddhafi had kept a variety of small, well-trained militias under his personal con-
trol whilst leaving the Libyan army small in order to prevent the possibility of a
military coup. This was replicated in terms of tribal and regional political dynamics,
whereby particular groups, such as those from Gaddhafi’s home town of Sirte or
regions in the south, had greater access to economic and political resources whilst
those in the east, particularly in Benghazi, were often excluded from the political
process altogether.
Saying this, the economic situation in Libya was far different to that of Tunisia
and Egypt, with its oil wealth and small population making it similar to the states of
the Gulf. Indeed, as Table 9.3 indicates, Libyans had a high degree of both second-
ary and tertiary education, feeding a sense of relative deprivation in an environment
that was, in economic terms at least, better than many other regional states. Indeed,
this relative deprivation extended from the political realm through to the economic
realm where, despite relatively high living standards, many Libyans struggled to
gain access to government contracts unless they were part of a privileged elite.
Whilst the economic situation was one of relative perceptions, there was an abso-
lute or objectively harsh human rights situation in Libya. As Chapter 8 outlined,
Libya consistently ranked low on measurements of political freedoms, including
freedoms of the press and human rights standards. Therefore, whilst there was a
lack of internet penetration and slow uptake in Libya, the impacts of the broader
information flow through satellite television and the internet would have likely
hastened the undercurrent of discontent in Libya that led to the outbreak of civil
war in the country in February 2011.
The Course of the Libyan Uprising

With instability continuing to roll through the region, unrest against the 41-year
rule of Muammar Gaddhafi broke out in the eastern city of Benghazi on 15
February 2011. This came on the back of protests earlier in January in Libya’s east-
ern cities against ongoing corruption and housing shortages. The regime’s response
oscillated between new welfare programmes and direct oppression; however, this
failed to mollify unrest, with open rebellion breaking out by mid-February. This
spread quickly throughout the east of the country, with calls for the removal of
the Gaddhafi regime. The situation then escalated to the point where the Libyan
regime and armed forces began to openly attack protestors.
The Libyan opposition formed the National Transitional Council (NTC) on 27
February, calling for the removal of the Gaddhafi regime and the reintroduction of
the previous constitution, including multi-party elections. The NTC was based in
Benghazi, traditionally a centre of anti-government sentiment, and set about con-
solidating opposition to the regime. It was constituted primarily of civilians with
initially a small number of defectors from the Libyan army. Despite its primar-
ily civilian character, its confrontation with the regime rapidly became militarised,
with allegations that the regime had employed helicopter gunships, snipers, artillery
and other means against opposition fighters as well as allegations of its using for-
eign mercenaries from Sub-Saharan Africa. This latter factor saw a series of reprisal
attacks against the African community in the NTC-held parts of the country.
The regime was also accused of targeting NTC hospitals and civilian areas as
well as using human shields during offensives and engaging in acts of torture, rape
and other abuses. This led to increasing charges of crimes against humanity by the
Libyan regime. Combined with the concern over reprisal attacks against insurgent
forces and the population in the east as the government rolled back the territorial
gains made by the NTC fighters, the international community began to discuss
armed intervention, resulting in the establishment of a multilateral coalition force
on 19 March 2011.
This coalition was formed around UN Security Council Resolution 1973 of 17
March 2011 that authorised the use of force against the Libyan regime. Specifically,
this resolution imposed a no-fly zone on Libya and called for an immediate cease-
fire under what is known as the ‘Responsibility to Protect’ (R2P) Doctrine. R2P
emerged out of debates in the UN in the wake of the genocides in Rwanda and
Bosnia, and was based on the premise that the UN is obliged to act under both
Chapter VI and VII if a state is deemed to be active in ‘genocide, war crimes, ethnic
cleansing and crimes against humanity’ (United Nations, 2005).
The activation of R2P raised intense debate over the nature of international
intervention. In particular, some argued that it opened the door for powerful states
to violate the sovereignty of less powerful states in pursuit of their own ends. On
the flip-side of this debate, the principal advocate of the R2P doctrine, former
Australian Foreign Minister Gareth Evans, argued that ‘protecting the country’s
people from the kind of murderous harm that Gaddhafi inflicted on unarmed pro-
testors’ is central to the very logic of what the UN was established to do (Evans,
2011). This was not a programme of regime change, but one focused solely on the
protection of civilians from harm.
Resolution 1973 was implemented by NATO as ‘Operation Unified Protector’,
and led by the US, the UK and Italy, with supplemental involvement from Belgium,
Canada, Denmark, France, Norway, the Netherlands, Spain and Sweden, as well as
regional states in Qatar and the UAE. Libyan forces were at the outer suburbs of
Benghazi when the international intervention began on 19 March. The interven-
tion effectively turned the course of the war, particularly in terms of mitigating the
Lossiemouth Key to air bases

Canada
Denmark
UK Marham France
Germany
Italy
Nancy
Saint Dizier Qatar
Dijon Spain
France Aviano
United Kingdom
Istres
Italy United States
Solenzara Gioia del Colle Libyan airsp.
Spain
Decimomannu Greece
Trapani
Moron Sigonella
Rota
Souda Bay
Malta
Tunisia Mediterrenean Sea Akrotiri
Tripoli Cyprus
Zuwara
Mitiga Misrata Benghazi
Ajdabiya
Sirte
Algeria
Egypt
Libya
0 500km
Figure 10.4 The no-fly zone and arrangement of NATO-led forces during ‘Operation
Unified Protector’
artillery and air advantages held by the regime. As a result, the regime’s forces fell
back during June and July, with intense fighting around Sirte, Misrata and Bani
Waled. By the end of November, Muammar Gaddhafi’s son and heir Saif al-Islam
was arrested and Tripoli taken by the NTC fighters.
Post-Uprising Libya
Whilst events in Tunisia and Egypt have been tumultuous yet provide discernible
steps towards opening the political system, the situation in Libya is far more uncer-
tain. This is in large part due to the nature of the Gaddhafi regime. In particular,
Gaddhafi’s rule can be best characterised by an almost complete lack of formal polit-
ical institutions, with authority wielded through personalised, informal links between
local notables and the regime. As such, with the collapse of the Gaddhafi regime,
there were no political institutions to be reconstructed and transformed. In other
words, the post-Gaddhafi period under NTC rule is highly fluid and uncertain.
This uncertainty was amplified by the degree of violence that characterised
the collapse of the Gaddhafi regime, as well as the divisions between the various
elements of the NTC. Indeed, the circumstances around the death of Gaddhafi
on 20 October 2011 typified this instability. After the fall of Tripoli in August,
Gaddhafi fled the capital with intense speculation over his whereabouts. As the
NTC moved to take control of the last pro-Gaddhafi strongholds, he was discov-
ered in his hometown of Sirte, east of the capital, where he was apprehended whilst
attempting to flee. Backed by NATO air strikes, NTC fighters from the town of
Misrata, which had witnessed heavy shelling by the Libyan army, apprehended
Gaddhafi. The course of events after this is unclear, apart from Gaddhafi dying
sometime after the first moments of his capture.
After Gaddhafi’s death, his son Saif al-Islam was captured and arrested on 19
November. The ICC had issued warrants for the arrest of both Gaddhafis during
the conflict under Resolution 1973, with Saif held to face trial. However, this also
led to controversy as those who had captured Saif, the Zintain militia, argued that
he should be tried in Libya and not in the Hague. This came to a head on 7 June
when the ICC counsel for Saif, Australian Melinda Taylor and colleagues Alexander
Khodakov from Russia, Esteban Pertalta Losilla from Spain and Helen Assaf from
Lebanon, were detained by the Zintain group for allegedly passing on classified infor-
mation. Whilst they were released on 4 July, this act represented a broader tension in
the country, with various groups vying for influence over control of the new political
system in the country.
From late 2011, the NTC announced its intentions to form an interim govern-
ment that would plan for elections and the drafting of a new constitution. The head
of militias from various towns, including Misrata, Derna, Zintan and Benghazi, were
appointed to senior posts within the interim administration, representing an effort to
ensure that the disparate opposition groups remained part of the increasingly fragile
NTC. A new electoral law was passed on 24 April 2012 that sought to balance the
competing interests of these groups as well as the increasingly assertive religious estab-
lishment. This culminated in Libya’s first elections in four decades on 7 July 2012,
contested primarily by independent candidates and marked by key tensions over how
the new political institutions in the country would be structured, with the main point
of debate being over whether Libya would be a centralised or federal political system.
Case Study: Yemen

Whilst the grievances behind the uprisings in other parts of the region were a
mixture of absolute and relative deprivation, Yemen perhaps represents the clearest
case of absolute deprivation. As discussed in Chapter 6, the Yemeni economy has
the lowest per capita GDP in the region, the highest official unemployment rate,
the highest official inflation rate and, according to the UNDP, is second only to the
Palestinian Territories in terms of those living below the poverty line and to Sudan
on the Human Development Index. This was a dire economic situation with little
sign of short-term improvement.
Alongside economic malaise, the political situation in Yemen was characterised

by a lack of popular participation as well as a range of ongoing conflicts. Yemeni pol-
itics had been dominated by the rule of Ali Abdullah Saleh, who served as President
of North Yemen from July 1978 and the unified Yemen since May 1990. However,
whilst Saleh controlled official political authority, as well as serving as commander
of the Yemeni military, the state was riven by cross-cutting loyalties based on tribal
allegiances, sectarianism and the growing influence of Islamist radicalism.
Sectarianism had been a simmering problem in Yemen, particularly amongst the
Houthis, a large group within the Zaydi Shià community in Yemen. The Zaydi are
the largest Shià group in Yemen, with Shià constituting an estimated 40–50% of
the population. This has been a source of tension, with the Saudis, whose influence in
Yemen is a persistent feature of the political landscape, accusing the Houthis of acting
as a proxy for Iranian influence in the region. Here, Saleh sought to balance assuag-
ing Saudi influence due to the Yemeni reliance on Saudi financial aid, whilst also
attempting to avoid the emergence of tension within the Shià community. This was
an untenable position, with sectarian tension emerging after 2004 (Phillips, 2010).
The Course of the Yemeni Uprising

Yemen was in the throes of a number of conflicts by late 2010. This covered many
fronts, including a Shià insurgency in the north, ongoing tribal conflict across the
country, the re-emergence of a separatist movement in the south of the country,
and continued problems associated with the low levels of economic development
in the country. By mid-January, protests on the latter issues, particularly in the cap-
ital Sanaà, drew on the themes that had emerged in Tunis and Cairo and turned
towards a call for the removal of President Ali Abdullah Saleh.
From late January, protests of predominantly young unemployed people became a
fixture of Sanaà and the southern city of Aden, with intermittent clashes with state
security services. This tension culminated in an assassination attempt on Saleh on
3 June that saw him transferred to Saudi Arabia for medical treatment. After many
delays and amidst ongoing protests, Saleh arrived back in Yemen in late September,
agreeing to a Gulf Cooperation Council initiative for a transfer of power to Vice
President Abd al-Rab Mansur al-Hadi on 23 November. This was followed by a
formal election on 21 February 2012, electing al-Hadi, as the only candidate on the
ballot, the new President of Yemen.
Post-Uprising Yemen
The assumption of power by al-Hadi was a watershed moment in Yemeni pol-
itics, and another example of a long-serving head of state falling in the wake of
the uprisings in the Arab world. Whilst Saleh’s intransigence saw the transfer of
power become a long process, there is hope that the transition in Yemen, now
Distribution of Ethnoreligious
Groups and Key Tribal Areas
Al Murra
Al Rashid
Ismaili
Z
Sai’ar
a
Hashid Kathiri Al Kathir
Bani Awa’mir
y d
Yam
i
Ismaili Sanaa Mahrah
Quhrah Anis Ka’aiti
Yafa’i Wahidi
Zaranik
Amiri hli Aulaq
Haushabi Fad
Subaihi 0 150 Kilometers
Aden 0 150 Miles
Socotra
Boundary representation is
not necesarily authoritative.
Majority Groups Yemen’s Population Yemen’s Population

by Ethnic Group by Religion
Shia Arab
Other
The Shia of Yemen are comprised Afro-Arab Other
of Zaydi and Ismaili sects.
Sunni Arab
Socotran (Shia/Sunni mix)

Shia Sunni
Sparsely populated
Arab
Yafa’i Tribal area
Total population : 18.7 million
Figure 10.5 Distribution of ethno-religious groups and key tribal areas in Yemen
underway, will gain pace. However, as has already been outlined, Yemen faces
immense structural challenges to maintaining stability let alone democracy.
In particular, the poverty and lack of development across the country have been
a major source of unrest. With little likelihood of rapid economic development in
the near future, this is likely to be a major source of unrest for the new regime, one
that may curtail efforts towards opening up the previously closed political system.
In addition, the profound influence of tribal loyalties in Yemen limits the ability of
the new regime to appoint new figures within key posts. This is particularly so for the
military, where senior positions are often given to particular tribes in return for the
loyalty of that particular group.
In addition, to this, the various conflicts faced by the government in Sanaà will
dominate its attention for the foreseeable future. This will require efforts on the
part of the new al-Hadi administration to maintain the unity and cohesiveness of
the armed forces, and to use political appointments as a tool for maintaining unity
rather than turning towards full-scale democratisation that would likely lead to fur-
ther instability. In addition to the ongoing controversies around US military action
in Yemen, particularly the controversies over drone strikes, Yemen’s post-uprising
transition will be rocky.
Case Study: Bahrain

Where sectarianism is an emerging issue in Yemen, it has been the dominant polit-
ical dynamic in Bahrain since its independence in December 1971. The majority
of Bahrain’s population is Shià (estimated 70%), whilst the al-Khalifa monarchy
comes from the minority Sunni community (30%). Here, the Shià have accused
the monarchy of marginalising them in terms of employment and housing, as well
as broader social discrimination. This in part stems from the long-running Iranian
claims on the small island kingdom.
Iran’s claims are based on the incorporation of Bahrain into the Persian Empire
at various times in its history and the majority Shià population on the island (Iran
refers to Bahrain as Mishmahig Island, or the 14th province of Iran). Whilst Iranian
claims have only been voiced intermittently in recent years, the al-Khalifa monar-
chy and its allies in Riyadh, Doha and Abu Dhabi see in them a continuing pattern
of efforts by Iran to influence events in the Gulf. They have also been used by the
Bahraini and Saudi governments as a rationale for the continued marginalisation of
their Shià communities.
Shià economic and political marginalisation is exacerbated by the relatively
modest economic growth in Bahrain. Whilst the economies of its Gulf neighbours
have growth exponentially since the 1970s, Bahrain boasts only modest deposits
of oil and gas, seeing it reliant on revenues from the service sector, assistance from
its neighbours and the benefits of hosting the powerful US 5th Naval Fleet at the
Naval Support Activity (NSA) Bahrain. NSA Bahrain has been the launching pad
for all major US military operations in the region; including the post-2001 military
operations in Afghanistan and Iraq (see above).
Political discontent had emerged previously in Bahrain, particularly in the 1990s
with continued economic stagnation and political restrictions. These protests
crossed sectarian divides and called for the reinstitution of the Bahraini parlia-
ment and constitution that had been briefly implemented between 1973 and 1975.
Whilst some reforms were introduced in 1999, the National Action Charter of
2001 was a more comprehensive move to quell discontent. However, the monarchy
continued to mitigate the freedoms of the charter through the 2000s, highlighting
what it labelled as foreign interference in Bahraini affairs (Nakhleh, 2011).
Bahrain’s Failed Uprising?

The Arab uprisings provided a spark that re-lit this lingering tension in Bahrain.
Protests were organised for 14 February 2011, the 10th anniversary of the refer-
endum on the National Action Charter, demanding a revised constitution and a
public investigation into allegations of government corruption and repression
of dissent. Despite initially appearing conciliatory in the run-up to the protests,
including the dispersal of 1000 Bahraini dinar payments to each household, King
Hamad ibn Isa al-Khalifa responded with the use of security forces to disperse the
protests as soon as they formed. This saw the rapid degeneration of the conflict into
violent confrontation between the state security services and the protestors centred
on Manama’s Pearl Roundabout.
This action culminated with the forced clearing of the protestors on 17 February,
leaving four dead, over 600 injured and an estimated 70 people taken into cus-
tody. However, protests re-emerged with a mass rally on 22 February, in which
over 200,000 people, roughly 25% of Bahrain’s adult population, took to the streets.
Concessions were made, but protests continued in the capital through March,
and took on an increasingly sectarian tone, with counter-protests seeing confronta-
tion between Sunni and Shià communities. The government intervened again on
13 March, breaking up the anti-government protests.
This situation deteriorated markedly on 14 March when Bahrain approached the
Gulf Cooperation Council (GCC) for assistance. This led to Saudi Arabia deploy-
ing over 1000 troops on the island alongside 500 UAE police personnel, ostensibly
to secure key government sites. This freed up the Bahraini security services to clear
the protestors again, and over the course of the following week five died in clashes.
After this, many of those who were active in the protests were arrested, a number of
whom died in custody during April, further heightening tensions.
From this point, various dialogue efforts were initiated, each meeting with lim-
ited or no success as protests continued through early 2012. This period has also
seen increasing violence used by the protest movement, including petrol bombs,
whilst the government continues to detain opposition figures and impose strict cen-
sorship controls on the flow of information out of the country. This latter factor has
been of particular controversy, with the Al Jazeera network, based in neighbouring
Qatar, and the Al Arabiya network, based in neighbouring Saudi Arabia, accused of
turning a blind eye to coverage of the Bahraini uprisings whilst providing extensive
coverage of uprisings elsewhere. Combined with criticisms of Al Jazeera’s coverage
of the uprising in Syria, this led to resignations at the network in 2011.
Thus, the uprisings in Bahrain have had a limited direct effect on the structure
of the government, access to political participation by the majority of the citizenry,
or the scope of powers held by the al-Khalifa royal family. They have sharpened the
already volatile sectarian tensions in the country, something that has particularly
significant regional ramifications given the history of tension between Iran and its
Gulf neighbours. This is of added importance with the location of the powerful US
5th Fleet on the small island kingdom.
The events in Bahrain also spurred on discussions in the GCC concerning a
possible political union between the six member states. Whilst there is little likeli-
hood of full political union between the states, discussions in May 2012 indicated
that there is likely to be a strengthening of ties between Saudi Arabia and Bahrain,
which would serve the security interests of both states against Iranian pressure
as well as assisting in offsetting domestic unrest and underwriting the Bahraini
economy. However, this union is not likely to advance the cause of democracy in
Bahrain, and therefore will potentially exacerbate the pre-existing tensions that led
to the unrest that broke out on 14 February 2011.
Conclusion
In many ways, US military intervention in the Middle East has mirrored earlier
interventions by the British and French. In particular, each of these countries
occupied key regional states with public declarations that this was for the bet-
terment of the local population. Indeed, these interventions led to widespread
local unrest and resistance, further straining the relations between local actors and
regional states. Whilst new forms of intervention, such as the use of drone strikes,
have raised new controversies they continue to echo themes on how regional
actors relate to global powers.
Study Questions
♦♦ What were the main controversies surrounding the US-led invasion and occu-
pation of Iraq?
♦♦ What defines the patterns of insurgency in Iraq after 2003?
♦♦ What have been the main impacts of the war on the Iraqi people?
♦♦ What has characterised US military interventionism since the invasion and
occupation of Iraq?
♦♦ What is the political legacy of the Iraq War within Iraq, across the Middle East
and globally?
♦♦ What controversies surround the use of unmanned drone strikes as part of
US counter-terrorism efforts?
♦♦ What dilemmas have resulted from US counter-terrorism operations in Iraq,
Afghanistan, Pakistan and Somalia?
Further Reading
Akbarzadeh, Shahram, Piscatori, James, MacQueen, Benjamin and Saikal, Amin
(eds) (2012) American Democracy Promotion in the Changing Middle East: From
Bush to Obama. London: Routledge.
This volume brings together key thinkers on the issues of conflict and reconstruc-
tion that have stemmed from key US interventions in Afghanistan and Iraq.
Maley, William (2009) The Afghanistan Wars, 2nd edn. London: Palgrave Macmillan.
An examination from perhaps the leading scholar on Afghan politics, provid-
ing a thorough overview of the various factors that continue to feed instability in
Afghanistan.
Ricks, Thomas E. (2006) Fiasco: The American Military Adventure in Iraq. New
York: Penguin.
A much publicised and critical account of the US invasion and occupation of Iraq,
providing particular insights into the lack of pre-war planning on the part of the
Bush administration.
Special Inspector General for Iraq Reconstruction (2009) Hard Lessons: The Iraq
Reconstruction Experience. Arlington, VA: Special Inspector General for Iraq
Reconstruction.
A highly detailed account from those involved in the troubled reconstruction
process in Iraq.

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11
The Syrian
Conflict and the
Syrian Refugee
Crisis
Learning Objectives
♦♦ The background to the conflict in Syria.

♦♦ The various sites of unrest at the core of the conflict.
♦♦ The response of the Syrian regime to growing opposition.
♦♦ The role of regional and global powers in the start and perpetuation of the conflict.
♦♦ The course and spread of the conflict, including the disaggregation of the opposition.
♦♦ The sources of the Syrian refugee crisis and its impacts on the receiving states
adjacent to Syria.
TIMELINE
6 March 2011: Arrest of 15 May 2013: Lebanon’s Hezbollah

teenagers in the southern city of formally enters the conflict
Daraa` for anti-government graffiti alongside the Assad regime to
secure strategic points on the
12 March 2011: Protests in the Syrian–Lebanese border
Kurdish region against the
continuing state of emergency laws 21 August 2013: Syrian regime
alleged to have used chemical
15 March 2011: ‘Day of Rage’
weapons against opposition
protests centred on Daraa`,
forces near Damascus
spreading to Damascus and
Aleppo October 2013: Significant divisions
18 March 2011: Protests continue, emerge within the opposition,
with government forces arresting seeing it increasingly splintered
hundreds and several killed, along geographic and
sparking further unrest ideological lines
May 2011: Government forces February 2014: Failure of first major

enter Daraa`, Homs, Banyas UN-backed peace initiative
and the suburbs of Damascus June 2014: ‘Islamic State’/daesh
to remove anti-government emerge as a significant militant
protests, leading to an organisation in the conflict,
escalation of violence seizing areas in the west, centre
July 2011: Unrest spreads and north of Syria
throughout the country September 2014: Kurdish forces
23 August 2011: Formation of increasingly active in the conflict,
the opposition Syrian National fighting daesh, the Assad regime
Council, claiming to represent as well as in confrontation with
a united opposition front to the the Turkish forces on Syria’s
Assad regime northern border
12 November 2011: Syrian regime September 2014: Daesh declare

suspended from the Arab League ‘Caliphate’ in Syria’s east
February 2012: Government 23 September 2014: US begins
bombardment of major cities airstrike campaign against
commences, opposition offensive daesh in Syria
in the north commences
28 March 2015: Islamist group
July 2012: Fighting begins in the jabhat al-nusra take control of
northern city of Aleppo the city of Idlib
December 2012: The US, the 30 September 2015: Russia begins
UK, France, Turkey and the airstrike campaign against
GCC states withdraw formal daesh and other opposition
recognition of the Assad regime movements in Syria
The Syrian Conflict and the Syrian Refugee Crisis 335
December 2015: Homs falls to targeting both daesh and

regime forces after being under Kurdish groups
opposition control since 2012
December 2016: Aleppo falls to
August 2016: First major Turkish regime forces
offensive over the Syrian border
Introduction
The conflict in Syria, emerging from the tumult of the Arab Spring, caught many
observers by surprise. As has been discussed previously in this volume, the suc-
cessive Assad regimes in Syria appeared to be the prototype of an authoritarian
regime resistant to change, unrest and mobilised opposition. However, the spread
of protest across the country from late 2010 and early 2011 highlighted vulner-
abilities in this regime that most had overlooked. This chapter will explore how
this protest movement evolved into a full-scale armed rebellion that came close
to toppling this regime in 2012, before itself fracturing into various centres of
armed opposition to Assad’s rule. Through this, we can explore the multifaceted
nature of the opposition, the both violent and non-violent means the regime has
used to hold on to power, and the impacts of both regional and global players in
what has become one of the most violent episodes in the history of the region.
Furthermore, the human cost of the conflict has been and remains profound, and
this chapter will also focus on the Syrian refugee crisis as the clearest manifesta-
tion of the destruction of the conflict, and an event that will pose challenges to
the regional order for decades to come.
Background to the Conflict

The Syrian conflict can be defined by the scale of violence and its perpetual nature.
In a way comparable to the conflict in Libya, the Syrian war has consumed almost
all parts of Syrian society, and displaced over half the country’s population. The
dynamics of pre-2011 politics in Syria are critical to understanding how this con-
flict spiralled into one of the deadliest wars in recent decades. In particular, this
section will briefly reprise the patterns of authoritarian control exercised by the
Hafiz al-Assad and, after 2000, Bashar al-Assad regimes, and how this impacted on
the patterns of both allegiance and opposition in the country. Specifically, patterns
of authoritarian control in Syria under these successive regimes bred various forms
of opposition throughout the country; an opposition that itself was deeply divided.
These divisions have become a key feature of the conflict, creating a situation where
the opposition has been too divided to topple the regime, but too nebulous for the
regime to successfully quell. This has perpetuated the conflict, resulting in what has
become one of the worst humanitarian disasters since the end of World War II.
Authoritarianism in Syria and Varieties of Opposition

Syria moved from perpetual instability to political stability, albeit under an author-
itarian regime, from 1970 with the emergence of the Hafiz al-Assad regime.
During the 30 years of his rule, Hafiz al-Assad employed a variety of mechanisms
to ensure the maintenance of his power. First, this regime actively and successfully
courted the country’s various minority communities. This tactic was present from
the earliest days of Assad’s rule, emerging as it did from close to two decades of
political instability that featured successive attempts by members of the country’s
Sunni Arab majority to marginalise minority identities in favour of a national, and
primarily Sunni Arab, Syrian identity.
Consequently, at the core of support for Assad was the notion of the regime as
serving to protect the country’s minority communities, from the President’s own
Alawi community, through to the Kurdish, Christian, Druze, Yazidi, Jewish and
other minority communities in Syria. This was not a uniform pattern since some
communities, notably the Kurdish community, suffered from the denial of cultural
and political rights. However, it was a key rhetorical tool used by the regime, and
one that was employed overtly in relation to the alleged threat of an imminent
Islamist challenge to the regime (McHugo, 2014).
In addition, the regime also employed a range of other mechanisms. These
included the introduction of a civil law code to undermine potential sources of
opposition, particularly from the religious sphere, a cult of personality around the
President as the personification of various state-sponsored goals including confron-
tation with Israel and the US, land redistribution targeted particularly at breaking
up the holdings of the upper middle classes of the Sunni Arab community, as well
as the deployment of the state security and intelligence services in repression of any
oppositional sentiment. These patterns of authoritarian maintenance did not work
in isolation. For instance, the cult of personality drew heavily on the Palestinian
issue, with Assad portraying himself as the region’s champion of the Palestinian
cause. In addition, focus on the civil law code intersected with rhetoric around the
need to protect minority identities from the perceived threat of the imposition of
Islamic law (Seale, 1988).
The regime used these various techniques deftly to hold on to power, and also to
maintain the divided nature of the opposition. For instance, prior to and then after
Assad’s rise to power in 1970, the Baàth Party was able to divide the previously
strong Syrian Communist Party, co-opting moderate factions in a loose alliance
under Baàth domination and forcing radical elements into opposition. In this way,
sporadic unrest by the communists, focused on areas in southern Damascus, Homs,
and in the Kurdish area, could to be contained. Importantly, the growth of support
for the Communist Party amongst Syria’s Kurdish community would influence
later events, with the Kurdish Democratic Union Party (PYD) forming in 2003 as
an affiliate of the Marxist Kurdistan Workers’ Party (PKK) in Turkey.
In addition, the government also faced opposition from Syria’s majority Sunni
Arab community. This opposition emerged in different forms, with elements of it
finding expression in more explicitly economic terms, focused on the Assad regime’s
control over the state’s economy at the expense of the Sunni-Arab-dominated
private sector. In addition, this opposition also found expression through politi-
cal Islam, notably with the Syrian Muslim Brotherhood (McHugo, 2014: 182).
Established in Syria in 1940 as an affiliate of the original Egyptian organisation,
the Syrian Brotherhood had served as a conduit for opposition to various military-
backed regimes through the 1950s and 1960s. This opposition escalated with the
1963 Baàth coup and, more pointedly, after the 1976 Syrian invasion of Lebanon.
The city of Hama had been a focal point for Islamist activism, particularly
the more radical elements of the Brotherhood, with the branches in Aleppo and
Damascus often more acquiescent to the Assad regime. Whilst clashes between
the government and members of the Brotherhood occurred during the mid-1960s,
Syrian intervention in Lebanon against both the Palestinian movement and various
Muslim militias fighting under the banner of the National Movement catalysed
renewed confrontation between the Brotherhood and the regime in Damascus. In
1980, the regime made membership of the Brotherhood a crime, leading to a fur-
ther deterioration in relations and an assassination attempt on Assad. Matters came
to a head in February 1982 when regime forces discovered a branch of radical ele-
ments of the Brotherhood, the so-called Fighting Vanguard, in Hama. This led to
open conflict in Hama, with the Brotherhood making initial advances and calling
for a state-wide rebellion against Assad.
In response, the regime deployed over 12,000 troops, artillery, tanks, special forces
and the Syrian Air Force to lay siege to the city. As many civilians fled the city, the
Syrian government embarked on a three-week bombing campaign that effectively
destroyed Hama. This was followed by a ground campaign in which government
forces moved through the remains of the city, killing or arresting any suspected
Brotherhood member or sympathiser. This effectively destroyed the Brotherhood’s
stand against the regime, and saw the death of between 10,000 and 40,000 people.
Hama was a seminal event, not least for the brutality the regime displayed in sup-
pressing internal dissent. It not only revealed a deeply divided opposition, with no
other organisation joining the rebellion after the initial uprising in Hama, but funda-
mentally fractured efforts to create a united oppositional front to the Assad regime
thereafter. This would last for several decades, even with the death of Hafiz al-Assad
in 2000 and the coming to power of his son Bashar. Indeed, promises of economic
and political liberalisation by Bashar in the early years of his tenure would carry with
them the spectre of the events of 1982, a memory of the lengths the regime would
go to in order to eliminate any potential threats to its hold on power (Lefevre, 2013).
As power transferred to Bashar al-Assad from the late 1990s, there were some
indications of a changed attitude towards political pluralism in the country. Syrian
opposition figures were allowed greater room for expression, albeit in relatively
small forums or ‘salons’ (muntadayat). Whilst these salons multiplied, they lacked
any central or unifying message beyond calls for an end to the state emergency law
and the release of political prisoners. This created a measure of optimism in the
early years of Bashar’s rule; however, this was undermined as the regime moved
to shut down these discussion groups by 2001. These groups had served as a use-
ful pressure valve for the new regime as it sought to establish its authority whilst
avoiding the emergence of a unified opposition. Despite this, the raising and then
thwarting of expectations of meaningful reform sharpened criticism of the regime
both internally and externally.
This situation was bought into sharper relief with the assassination, alleg-
edly coordinated by Syria, of former Lebanese Prime Minister Rafiq al-Hariri in
February 2005. Hariri’s assassination, coming in the context of the early years of the
US-led invasion and occupation of Iraq, resulted in intense international scrutiny
of the Syrian regime. This scrutiny had been occurring prior to the assassination,
with the US sharply critical of the Syrian-backed efforts to extend the term of
then Lebanese President and ally of Assad, Emile Lahoud. This move was con-
troversial within Lebanon, as Hariri was poised to lead an anti-Syrian coalition
in the Parliamentary elections that were to take place in Lebanon in March 2005
(Blanford, 2006).
Hariri’s assassination amplified Syria’s regional and global isolation, some-
thing the US had been overtly pursuing as captured by the December 2003 ‘Syria
Accountability and Lebanese Sovereignty Restoration Act’. This Act tied both
state sponsorship of terrorist movements and acquisition of nuclear, chemical and
biological weapons to US national security interests. In relation to Syria, it argued
that Syrian support for Hezbollah and assorted Palestinian movements, as well as
an alleged chemical weapons programme, made the Syrian regime a threat to both
regional and US security interests. Therefore, the US would work to destabilise and
ultimately remove the Assad regime as part of its foreign policy goals.
After the Hariri assassination, the UN moved to investigate the act through the
establishment of the Special Tribunal for Lebanon (STL). Critically, the STL has
judicial authority over Lebanese courts, and was established through a Chapter VII
Resolution of the United Nations (UNSCR 1757, 2007), allowing it to investigate
the assassination of Hariri and 22 other Lebanese political figures, separate from
the constraints of the Lebanese judicial system. In 2011, the STL issued arrest war-
rants for four people, each of which had overt or alleged connections to Hezbollah.
Whilst Syria was not directly implicated, its connections to Hezbollah and antipa-
thy toward Hariri leading up to the assassination added to growing efforts to isolate
the Syrian regime.
This put greater pressure on the Syrian economy, which had suffered from a
deterioration of the relationship with Turkey, particularly since 2005. This was
compounded by an effort on the part of the Gulf states to isolate Syria economically
as part of a broader strategy to counter any potential growth of Iranian influence in
the Arab world. As a result, Syria found itself increasingly reliant on Iran – itself the
subject of a sanctions regime due to its nuclear programme – its allies in Lebanon
and Russia.
Consequently, when unrest spread through the region from Tunisia in 2010, the
Syrian regime was facing multiple pressures. However, these pressures were from
a divided opposition that had suffered under decades of authoritarian rule. The
tensions finally became manifest with the outbreak of protests and, later, armed
unrest throughout Syria from early 2011, in response to which the regime has been
able to fall back on both coercive and rhetorical means to remain in power, but has
been unable to defeat the opposition. For its part, the opposition has remained too
divided to topple the regime but too dispersed to be effectively repressed.
The Outbreak of the Conflict

As unrest spread across the region, Syria was often excluded from states likely
to experience significant upheaval due to the relative strength of the regime in
Damascus, the diversity of the country, its divided opposition, and the apparent
vulnerability of other states such as Yemen, Jordan, Algeria and others. However,
despite repeated stalled efforts to organise protests during February 2011, a num-
ber of major demonstrations took place across Syria from mid-March that year.
These were centred on the cities of Daraa`, south of Damascus, and Homs, north
of the capital.
These two cities were the focus for early unrest for varying reasons. In Daraa`,
resentment against the regime emerged in response to the influx of refugees in the
town from the northeast of the country as a result of drought. Between 2006 and
2009, a combination of severe drought and a mismanaged agricultural policy saw the
migration of over a million rural workers, mostly young men, to cities throughout
the country. Displacement was most pronounced in the north, with several hun-
dred thousand internally displaced people moving south to the more arable farming
region around Daraa`. This occurred at the same time as the regime stripped back
services to regional centres such as Daraa`, creating an economic crisis in the town
that bred increasing resentment amongst both residents and the new arrivals. With
regard to Homs, anti-government sentiment there stretched back several decades
as the town was the home of the Syrian Communist Party, a movement that was
suppressed with the rise of the Baàth Party during the 1960s.
It was in Daraa` that the first large protests broke out on 25 March 2011, with
100,000 people taking to the streets and calling for the overthrow of the regime.
The immediate government response was the use of the security forces, resulting
in an estimated 20 civilian casualties. This occurred alongside protests across the
country, also in Damascus and the cities of Hama, Baniyas and Aleppo, in late
March, with a further 70 civilian casualties. By April, this unrest had turned highly
confrontational, with rolling unrest across the country and casualties quickly mov-
ing into the hundreds (Hokayem, 2013).
The colloquialism for pro-government ‘gangs’ or ‘thugs’ in Egypt is baltagiya; in Syria

and many other parts of the Arab world it is shabiha. The shabiha are civilian groups
allegedly paid by the government (and, in some instances, by criminal networks), who
act as enforcers, targeting protestors and other groups. They were allegedly involved
in the 25 May 2012 massacre in the Houla region.
From April, the US and later the EU imposed sanctions on the Syrian regime for
their increasing use of artillery, tanks and snipers to disperse protestors. It was also
at this time that an intense debate emerged over the nature of the opposition in
Syria, with charges and counter-charges of human rights abuses, torture and coer-
cion by both sides. The situation deteriorated markedly through 2011 and 2012,
with ongoing violence raging across the country. Estimates vary widely, with the
Syrian Observatory for Human Rights putting the number of casualties in excess
of 16,000 people by early July 2012. This included over 11,000 civilian casualties
and over 4000 Syrian military personnel killed, in addition to casualties amongst
foreigners. Thus, the uprising in Syria descended into a full-scale civil war between
the regime and a host of opposition groups, including the Free Syrian Army (FSA),
as well as militant Islamist groups, sectarian militants, criminal groups, and others.
Violence has also spilt over the border into northern Lebanon, igniting sectarian
tensions in this fragile region.
The government did move to introduce a gesture towards political reforms, with
the passing of a new constitution via referendum on 26 February 2012 that saw the
removal of the single-party framework. However, many challenged this effort as
superficial since the President retained key portfolios such as defence and internal
security as well as having a veto over all parliamentary decision-making. However,
discussions about democracy and its relationship to the uprisings in the Syrian con-
text have been overtaken by more immediate concerns over security and the rapidly
growing death toll in the country.
The Dynamics of the Syrian Opposition

As the violence rapidly escalated throughout the country, the divisions within the
opposition saw it pulled apart. These divisions increasingly came to reflect geo-
graphic and ideological splits within a tenuous opposition movement. Geographic
splits within the opposition formed around localised areas of control, such as local
commands in Aleppo, Damascus, Idlib, Homs, Hama, and elsewhere, as well as
between those on the ground inside Syria and the exiled political elite in Turkey,
Qatar and other locations. In addition, contests over ideology, particularly over the
role of political Islam, served to rend the opposition movement into a fractured set
of autonomous units, something that allowed the regime to stave off what seemed
like imminent defeat in 2012–13.
The Syrian National Council and Syrian National Coalition

The Syrian National Council (SNC) was formed in Istanbul in August 2011 osten-
sibly as an umbrella organisation for opposition groups and, later, claimed to serve as
a government in exile. The SNC is composed of an amalgam of various opposition
figures, mostly those who had been exiled from Syria. Here, the exiled leadership of
the Syrian Muslim Brotherhood formed the core of the SNC executive, generating
tensions over the question of whether the SNC was simply an extension of the
Brotherhood or Turkish interests. It was also criticised for being unrepresentative
of the entirety of the Syrian oppositions as its membership lacked non-Islamist or
Kurdish voices.
By 2012, the organisation had failed to gain much support within Syria and was
increasingly marginalised from its purported role as the political voice of the Syrian
opposition. More prominent splits within the movement became apparent and, by
mid-2012, the US removed its backing of the SNC as the alternative governmen-
tal voice for Syria. In November 2012, Qatar, another key backer of opposition
parties in Syria, hosted a conference that sought to recalibrate the political front
of the opposition. This led to the creation of the National Coalition for Syrian
Revolutionary and Opposition Forces, or the Syrian National Coalition.
The Free Syrian Army (FSA)

The FSA announced its formation on 29 July 2011, and has been one of the most
active participants in the fighting. It is constituted primarily of former Syrian mil-
itary personnel, with estimates of its size varying from 25,000 to as high as 35,000.
The FSA is explicit in its call for the overthrow of the Assad regime and, offi-
cially at least, the establishment of a secular Republic. However, almost from the
moment of its inception, the FSA was characterised by divisions. These centred
on a variety of issues, from local parochial concerns through to ideological differ-
ences, particularly the proximity of particular current and former FSA members
to Islamist ideology.
The localised splits of the FSA have had the greatest impact in terms of coordi-
nation. Here, it is estimated that the group has split into between 25 to 30 factions
in its core areas of support around the cities of Idlib in the north, Homs and
Hama, with a number of smaller groups adding to this. This disaggregation of
the movement has hampered efforts towards a more coordinated challenge to the
Assad regime, but has also made it difficult for the Syrian government to defeat
the movement.
In what is perhaps a more critical outcome for the FSA, there have been reported
defections of FSA fighters to Jabhat al-Nusra and daesh. These groups will be dis-
cussed below, but the defection of fighters to these radical movements, particularly
between 2013 and 2015, saw the FSA lose considerable numbers of fighters in the
east of the country and around Aleppo. The reasons for this are varied, including
the possibility of earning more money by fighting with the better financed radical
Islamist groups, the ideological allure of these organisations, and the seeming loss of
momentum for the FSA from 2012. As such, the initial fracturing of the FSA fed
into a dynamic that saw it lose internal support and external funding, allowing it to
slip further from prominence as the conflict has dragged on, and further undermin-
ing its ability to recruit fighters and obtain material support. Its remaining asset is
that, for the US and other Western states hoping to fund opposition movements
to Assad, it is seen as the most ‘moderate’ opposition group with a presence inside
the country.
Jabhat al-Nusra, Jaish al-Fatah and Daesh (Islamic State)

Further radicalisation of the conflict occurred soon after the outbreak of unrest
as violence between the regime and the armed opposition escalated throughout
the country. This was accelerated in late 2011 when the leader of the movement
the Islamic State in Iraq, Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi, sponsored the establishment of
an affiliate jihadist movement in Syria under the authority of Abu Muhammad
al-Golani. This group solidified in early 2012 under the banner of ‘The Support
Front for the People of al-Sham’ (or ‘Support Front’/Jabhat al-Nusra – JAN). The
Islamic State in Iraq emerged from the remnants of al-Qaeda in Iraq after the
Anbar Awakening of 2006, regaining lost momentum after the US withdrawal in
2010. This enabled it to provide significant funding and arms to the new Syrian
branch, seeing it quickly challenge and supersede the FSA as the most impactful
opposition group in Syria by the middle of 2012 (Warrick, 2016).
The success of JAN from 2012 to 2013 saw them not only draw the attention of
the various Syrian forces both in opposition to and support of the regime, but the
US as well, which put the movement on its list of foreign terrorist organisations due
to its affiliation with al-Qaeda. The growing success and influence of the move-
ment put the Obama administration in a bind where they were opposed to both the
regime and the most potent opposition force.
Despite this, internal disputes would also affect the radical Islamist movement
in Syria as al-Baghdadi sought to extend his authority over JAN in early 2013.
Al-Golani rejected al-Baghdadi’s announcement, proclaiming allegiance only to
‘al-Qaeda Central’ under the command of Ayman al-Zawahiri, who is believed to
be in Afghanistan or Pakistan. As a result, al-Baghdadi relocated his forces from
Iraq to northern Syria in an effort to remove al-Golani from control of JAN or to
recruit JAN fighters into the newly proclaimed Islamic State of Iraq and al-Shams
(ISIS), otherwise known by its Arabic acronym daesh. In the process, al-Baghdadi
formally broke with al-Qaeda whilst al-Golani was designated by Zawahiri as the
legitimate al-Qaeda representative in the Syrian conflict.
This fracture also amplified both membership and ideological differences
between the two groups. In relation to the former, JAN had a relatively high num-
ber of local fighters, with the foreign fighter element arriving later. Al-Baghdadi’s
efforts to draw JAN fighters to daesh gained traction primarily with the foreign
fighter cohort, leading to a characterisation of JAN as a more ‘local’ Islamist move-
ment and daesh as a more trans-national movement. In addition, JAN sought to
follow the edicts of al-Qaeda leader al-Zawahiri in moderating its impact on civil-
ians as it sought the construction of a new Islamic State in the areas it controlled.
That is, this was to be part of a final phase of al-Qaeda’s grand strategy, from
confrontation with non-Muslim states and their regional allies through to the con-
struction of the new Caliphate. Whilst there was a rebranding of JAN in 2016,
with it re-emerging as Jabhat Fateh al-Sham (Front for the Conquest of the Levant/
Greater Syria), in an effort to distance this movement from al-Qaeda, the move-
ments remain nominally linked.
Here, al-Qaeda saw daesh’s more radical tactics and harsher implementation of
Islamic Law in the areas under its control as counter-productive, serving to alienate
the local population who would be the citizens of this first Caliphate. Somewhat
ironically in this regard, it was daesh who were able to establish themselves as a more
expansive, state-like entity in northern, central and eastern Syria, as well as western
Iraq, by 2014. As discussed below, this focused global attention more specifically on
daesh, including multilateral military efforts to weaken the group, as the proto-state
actively sought to sponsor the emergence of affiliate groups elsewhere as well as
terrorist attacks across the globe.
This period also witnessed the birth of a third potent Islamist militia in Jaish al-
Fatah ( JAF), or the Army of Conquest. JAF included sections of JAN as well as a
range of smaller Islamist groups and was initially based around the city of Idlib in the
north of Syria. It has since expanded its operations to include Hama and the south-
ern regions around Daraa`. This coalition has focused its activities on campaigns
against the regime and renewed involvement by Hezbollah in the fighting since
2015. Here, it receives considerable funding from Saudi Arabia and Qatar as well as
Turkey. Whilst a number of its constituent parties, including JAN, are aligned to al-
Qaeda, Saudi Arabia began pressuring key JAF members to renounce this affiliation,
at least publically, so as to position the group as a focal point for international efforts
to fund and train the opposition. As of 2016, JAF remained affiliated with al-Qaeda.
Thus, by 2016, these three radical Islamist groups had become the most prom-
inent and, arguably, most powerful elements of the opposition in Syria. They
eclipsed the FSA and its affiliates, gaining control over large swaths of territory
across the country. However, they were not immune to divisions, with the split
between them followed by bouts of fighting from 2014 to 2016. This perpetual
dividing of the opposition, undermining its ability to overthrow the regime, com-
bined with the inability of the government to defeat the opposition whilst it has
retained the ability to stay in power, has seen the conflict continue, at immense
human cost.
The Kurdish Issue and the Syrian Conflict

Alongside the SNC, FSA and its various divisions, JAN, daesh, and numerous other
factions comprising the opposition in Syria, are several Kurdish organisations. Here,
Kurdish political activism in Syria had been in intermittent confrontation with
the Syrian regime for several decades. Prior to the outbreak of the conflict, various
Kurdish movements pressured both Assad regimes for greater political and cultural
rights. This slowly escalated from the late 1990s when the Syrian regime signed
a security pact with Turkey that banned the Kurdistan Workers’ Party (PKK), the
main Kurdish opposition group in Turkey, whose leadership up to that point had
enjoyed a safe haven in Syria.
Whilst the PKK leadership fled Syria, leading to the arrest of its leader Abdullah
Öcalan in Greece in 1999, remaining members of the PKK in Syria assisted in the
establishment of the Democratic Union Party (PYD) in 2003. From 2003 to 2011,
the Syrian government and the PYD clashed over issues related to political and
cultural freedoms for the Kurdish community and efforts by the Syrian regime to
displace the Kurdish population from the border region with Turkey. At the same
time, the PYD and the Syrian regime had sporadic periods of rapprochement, as
both had tensions with Turkey.
The PYD retained its affiliation with the PKK, highlighting the divisions within
the Kurdish movement also. Here, other Kurdish factions emerged, prior to and
particularly after the outbreak of conflict in Syria in 2011, with links to the Iraqi
Kurdish community, particularly the dominant Kurdistan Democratic Party (KDP)
of Masoud Barzani. This group formed the Kurdish National Council (KNC) in
October 2011. This has added an additional layer of complication to the alliance
patterns in the Syrian conflict, where the PYD are in confrontation with Turkey
due to their links with the PKK whilst the KNC and its supporter, the KRG, have
an informal alliance with Turkey, which is a key backer of other elements of the
Syrian opposition.
Despite these divisions, there has been a degree of cooperation between the PYD
and KNC that culminated in the signing of an agreement in July 2012 establishing
the Kurdish Supreme Committee (KSC). This came on the back of the withdrawal
of Syrian forces from Kurdish-majority areas in the north of the country, allowing
the KSC to establish direct control over the majority of the northern border region
with Turkey, with the exception of the area immediately north of Aleppo, which
is held, as of mid-2016, by daesh. The KNC claims that this territory, known as
Rojava (the ‘West’ – a reference to the western portion of the broader Kurdish ter-
ritory extending through Turkey [North], Iraq [South] and Iran [East]), is now an
integrated, federal, autonomous zone within Syria, advocating this as a model for a
post-conflict and decentralised Syrian state.
In this regard, it has come into direct conflict with daesh, with clashes between
them focused on control over key sites along the Turkish border and for control over
the Euphrates River Valley. A key point in this confrontation occurred in September
2014 when daesh besieged the strategic Kurdish-held border town of Kobanî. Daesh
took control of the region surrounding Kobanî, leading to the flight of 200,000
largely Kurdish residents. However, they failed to take the town. Critically, US-led
airstrikes against daesh forced them back and saw them retreat from the area, leav-
ing the KNC in effective control over the northern quarter of Syrian territory.
Foreign Involvement in the Syrian Conflict

US involvement in the siege of Kobanî highlighted the intricate and complex ten-
sions between the key external players in Syria. The US had been effusive in their
praise for the KNC prior to the siege of Kobanî, and their intervention appeared
to strengthen this relationship. However, during the siege and subsequent human-
itarian crisis caused by daesh’s attacks on civilians in the area, Turkey allowed only
minimal movement of refugees northward across its border, and closed the bor-
der off to southward movement, due to its on-going confrontation with the PKK
and other Kurdish groups. Thus, the complexities of the conflict in Syria, and its
connections to broader tensions, saw two allies – the US and Turkey – working at
odds with one another whilst both remaining in opposition to the Assad regime
(Phillips, 2016). This section will detail the key external parties involved in the
conflict, and the complexity of their engagement.
Turkey
Turkey is the primary sponsor of the Syrian opposition, a position that seemed
unlikely in the decade prior to the conflict. During this time, the Syrian and Turkish
relationship had warmed, based primarily on growing economic links between the
two states. However, this situation deteriorated rapidly after 2008 as the Turkish
government increased pressure on the Syrian regime to grant greater political rep-
resentation to the Sunni community. Thus, on the eve of the conflict, the bonds that
had tied Damascus and Ankara together had frayed.
With the outbreak of conflict, Turkey moved quickly to call for the ousting of
Assad, and openly courted the Syrian opposition. It hosted the founding of the
SNC in 2011 and gave safe harbour to FSA fighters and others during the early
phases of the conflict. This situation became murkier as the conflict continued,
with Turkish efforts to ensure the flow of supplies and money to the opposition
feeding into newer elements, including JAN and daesh. Indeed, as daesh and the
Kurdish forces increasingly engaged in open conflict from 2013 and 2014, it has
been alleged that the Turkish government has been covertly supporting the Islamist
movement to pursue its own strategic gains.
This position was most pronounced during the siege of Kobanî in 2014.
During these events, and after the initial influx of Kurdish refugees in response
to daesh atrocities, the Turkish government closed the border to both refugees
seeking northward passage as well as Kurdish forces seeking southward passage to
reinforce the besieged town. In addition, and more controversially, it was alleged
that the Turkish government allowed daesh the use of Turkish territory to attack
Kurdish-held Kobanî from the north. Whilst the Turkish government has denied
this, it has followed up the events in Kobanî with an artillery campaign against
Kurdish forces and passed a motion in Parliament in 2016 to authorise a ground
invasion of Syria and Iraq to prevent the establishment of a Kurdish state.
This has brought Turkey into confrontation with both the US and Russia. The
US, also opponents of the Assad regime, have been critical of Turkey’s manoeuvres
vis-à-vis the Kurdish groups and daesh. The confrontation with Russia has been
more volatile. Russia has been an ally of both Assad regimes, stretching back to the
days of the Soviet Union. It was harshly critical of Turkey’s support for the Syrian
opposition. This became more visceral when Russia initiated a campaign of air
strikes, naval bombardments and arms supplies for the Syrian regime. During the
early stages of this campaign, the Turkish Air Force shot down a Russian Air Force
unit in November. Turkey claimed that the plane had been in Turkish air space.
This was denied by Russia, which deployed anti-aircraft systems in government-
controlled territory near the Turkish border, and threatened to shoot down any
Turkish aircraft in range.
Thus, Turkey has both voluntarily involved itself in the Syrian conflict, through
efforts at supporting the opposition, as well as being dragged into the conflict
through the arrival of over 2 million Syrian refugees in Turkish territory by 2016.
It has drawn the ire of both Russia and the US. However, its location and potential
influence over the opposition, means that any efforts at a negotiated settlement
to the dispute will require close cooperation with Ankara. Their persistent refusal
to engage in any negotiations that include the Syrian regime has impacted on the
likely success of these processes.
Saudi Arabia, the Gulf States and the GCC

Like Turkey, Saudi Arabia and the other Gulf states of the Gulf Cooperation
Council (GCC) have been active supporters of the Syrian opposition since the
outbreak of the conflict. With the economic resources at their disposal, Saudi
Arabia and the GCC have emerged as the largest financial backers of the oppo-
sition as well as the major suppliers of arms. They have also been active in
establishing training camps for anti-government forces at first in Turkey and
later in Jordan.
However, the extent to which Saudi Arabia and the GCC states support the
Syrian opposition is driven by different motivations to that of Turkey. For these
states, this decision, as with most foreign policy decisions, are seen through the lens
of Iran. That is, the removal of Assad weakens Iran, which in turn strengthens the
position of Saudi and the GCC. As such, whilst credible accusations of official and
unofficial support for daesh from these states abounds, they have been focused on
seeking to present a more palatable version of the radical Islamist opposition for
the US to support, hence the creation and funding of JAF. In addition, they have
been actively lobbying Russia to end its support for Assad, and to further isolate
Hezbollah both in Lebanon and militarily in Syria.
Iran
Iran is a key backer of the Syrian regime, a position that represents a long strategic
alliance between the two states. For Iran, Syria is one of the few Arab states that it
maintains good relations with – a relationship somewhat diluted by the increasingly
close relationship between Iran and Iraq. However, Syria remains critical of Iran’s
efforts to support Hezbollah in Lebanon.
In terms of the conflict, Iran has supplied the Syrian regime with considerable
financial assistance, estimated at close to $9 billion from 2011, as well as arms and
personnel. In addition, Iran has been active in training Syrian forces, particularly in
the areas of counter-insurgency and intelligence.
Lebanon and Hezbollah

The Lebanese position in relation to the Syrian conflict is not clear-cut. The state
has been without a functioning government effectively since 2013. Therefore, there
is no unified state position on the conflict. Within the various political groups,
positions are widely divergent. The March 14 coalition, born in opposition to the
Assad regime in 2005, remains sharply critical of Damascus. However, various
Christian parties in this alliance have spoken out against the possibility of Assad
being replaced by an Islamist regime.
For the March 8 coalition, support for Assad is central; however, the situation is
also more complex. For the Christian parties in this alliance, the focus is on ensur-
ing that the Syrian conflict does not spill over into Lebanon. However, for the main
party in March 8, Hezbollah, support has been more overt. Major Hezbollah mili-
tary involvement can be traced to early 2012 when they cooperated with Syrian and
Iranian forces to take the city of Zabadani, on the Lebanese border, from the FSA.
This highlighted the pattern of Hezbollah’s military involvement as they have acted
primarily to secure areas close to the Lebanese border, key access points for Iranian
arms and personnel bound for Hezbollah into Lebanon. This occurred again in
early 2013 when Hezbollah forces were active in attacks on the FSA around the
Qusayr region near the Lebanese border, an important arterial route connecting
Damascus to Assad’s core territory in Latakia.
Iraq
Despite its proximity, Iraq has had little direct involvement in the on-going
violence in Syria. However, its stated position in support of the Assad regime
contrasts with that of the rest of the Arab world, with the exception of Algeria
and factions within the Lebanese government. Thus, Iraq voted against moves in
the Arab League to strip the Assad government of recognition as the legitimate
representative government of Syria, as well as allowing the use of its airspace by the
Iranian Air Force for resupplying the Syrian regime. It has also supplied gas and
petrol to the Syrian regime.
The Arab World and the Arab League

The Arab League has been relatively united in its position as opposed to the Assad
regime. In 2012 it voted to remove recognition of the Assad regime as the legiti-
mate government of Syria and representative in the League, a post to be taken up
by the SNC. In this vote, only Iraq and Lebanon voted against the motion. This was
largely an expression of the strategic interests of these Arab states, led particularly
by the Sunni Arab monarchies of the Gulf. This support for the Syrian opposition
was accelerated in 2013 when the Arab League voted in favour of allowing arms to
be supplied to Syrian rebel groups. However, the lack of clarity as to who these arms
would go to has been highly controversial.
Russia
In many ways, the Russian position is the least geo-strategically complicated of the
major powers involved in the Syrian conflict. Unlike the other major allies of Syria,
in Iran and Hezbollah, it did not have to balance negotiations with the US over
nuclear issues (Iran) or domestic political uncertainty (Hezbollah). Syria remains
the last Arab ally of Russia after the collapse of the Soviet Union and the fall or
reform of the once radical Arab nationalist republic regimes. Central to this is a
naval facility in the port city of Tartous that the Russians have leased from Syria
since 1971.
Thus, from the outset, the Russian government positioned itself squarely in sup-
port of the Assad regime and, from 2012, has been supplying it with military and
financial assistance. This was also rumoured to have included the arrival of large
numbers of technical experts to assist with Syria’s air defence systems as discus-
sion of the establishment of a no-fly-zone in Syria became amplified. This support
was stepped up in September 2015 as the Russian government announced that
they would be launching an air campaign in support of the Syrian government
that would target both JAN and daesh. Here, Turkey, Saudi Arabia and the broader
Syrian opposition claimed that Russian strikes had targeted not just the Islamist
parties but all opposition militias in Syria, a claim denied by Moscow. The strikes
were successful in stabilising the Syrian government by pressuring the opposition
and creating opportunities for the regime to make territorial advances, particularly
around Hama and Aleppo in 2015 and 2016.
The United States

Despite some initial hesitation, the Obama administration withdrew recognition
of the Assad regime by late 2011 alongside imposing sanctions on the regime. This
opposition to Assad, in part, grew out of the on-going hostility between the US and
Syria, which heightened after the alleged Syrian involvement in the assassination of
former Lebanese Prime Minister Rafiq al-Hariri in 2005 and US backing for the
Syrian withdrawal from Lebanon. Removal of Assad was also seen as serving the
interests of marginalising Russian and Iranian interests in the region and weakening
the ability of Hezbollah to access arms from Iran via Syria.
However, this move saw the US in a dilemma with the emergence of JAN and
daesh later in the conflict. That is, the US had aligned itself with the Syrian opposi-
tion. However, as the FSA lost ground and the radical elements of the opposition
became dominant, the US had to balance its opposition to Assad with not support-
ing these elements, one of which was an affiliate of al-Qaeda. As a result, the US
have launched a variety of initiatives aimed at training and supplying ‘moderate’
rebel groups in Syria. This support extended to the supply of Kurdish forces in 2015
as the conflict between them and daesh escalated. Again, this caused tension for the
US as it was now actively arming a group that was in open conflict with Turkey, a
NATO ally of the US.
The Syrian Refugee Crisis

The conflict in Syria has had an almost incalculable cost in terms of casualties,
displacement and destruction. This section will detail key features of the human
cost of the conflict; specifically, the Syrian refugee crisis as a result of the conflict.
Building on the above outline of the course of the conflict, it will detail the pat-
terns of both external and internal displacement that have seen an estimated half
of Syria’s 23 million people displaced since 2011. For the purpose of analysis, this
section will outline the global governance mechanisms designed to handle refugee
influxes of this size, and how they have been deployed in response to this crisis.
The Global Refugee Management Regime

The foundation of the modern refugee management regime is the 1951 Refugee
Convention and the subsequent 1967 Protocol. Under these documents, refugees
are defined as people who have fled their country of origin, and are unable or
unwilling to return to it due to ‘a well-founded fear of being persecuted for reasons
of race, religion, nationality, or membership of a particular social group or politi-
cal opinion’ (Article 1.A.2, Convention Relating to the Status of Refugees, 1951).
Such people have the right to claim asylum, or protection from another state, under
international law and are protected by the principle of non-refoulement (no forced
return). In addition, refugees are to be granted the opportunity for resettlement in
either the state they have fled to or a third state, as well as the transfer of full human
rights (Goodwin-Gill and McAdam, 2007).
The United Nations established the High Commissioner for Refugees
(UNHCR) in 1950 as the key agency to ensure refugee rights and timely access
to durable solutions as outlined in the 1951 Convention. Whilst 145 countries are
parties to the 1951 Convention and 1967 Protocol, non-signatories are clustered in
the Middle East as well as South Asia and South-East Asia. In many ways, this is
a legacy of the period of decolonisation across these regions, where significant pop-
ulation transfers characterised the move to independence or subsequent regional
conflicts. In the Middle East, this has been further politicised due to the legacies of
the Palestinian refugee crisis.
The UN created the Relief and Works Agency (UNRWA) in 1949, prior to
both the establishment of the UNHCR and the 1951 Convention, as a stand-
alone institution to manage the hundreds of thousands of Palestinians who fled
the former Mandate during and after the 1947–48 war. UNRWA remains an
independent entity, unique in global politics in terms of its focus on a single refu-
gee population. Those states who received the bulk of Palestinian refugees after
1948 continue to remain non-signatories to the Refugee Convention. Egypt is
the exception here, being a party to both the 1951 and 1967 documents as well as
the 1969 Organisation of African Unity Covenant on Refugees. However, even
Egypt places significant domestic restrictions on refugee movement, access to
rights and settlement. Lebanon and Jordan remain outside of the international
refugee framework as they see accession to this as opening the door for permanent
settlement (tawteen, or implantation) of Palestinian refugees in their territory. For
Jordan, the granting of citizenship to a large section of the Palestinian refugee
community has marginalised this as an issue. However, it has remained outside
the framework of the convention, preferring to deal only with UNRWA. For
Lebanon, this is a particularly sensitive issue as it potentially undermines the
confessional system that defines political life in the country, as well as, rhetorically
at least, removing the right of return for Palestinian refugees in their on-going
confrontation with Israel (MacQueen and Baxter, 2014).
As such, the Syrian refugee crisis has occurred in an environment that is seemingly
marginal to the activities of the global refugee regime, and outside the activities of
UNRWA. It has also occurred in an environment where the issue of refugee move-
ments is highly politicised and in which those states proximate to the conflict in
Syria, namely Lebanon, Iraq, Turkey, and to a lesser extent Jordan, have themselves
entered periods of political instability. The scale of the crisis, combined with these
factors, has amplified what is already a hugely significant humanitarian crisis to one
that also threatens regional political stability.
Patterns of External and Internal Displacement

Prior to the conflict, Syria’s population was an estimated 23 million people. By
mid-2016, an estimated 4.8 million Syrians had fled across the borders of the
country as a result of the conflict. In addition to the estimated 400,000 to 500,000
deaths as a result of the conflict, this has seen the country’s population drop
by almost 25%, from its pre-war total of an estimated 23 million citizens to 17
million. The estimated 6.6 million internally displaced people remaining within
Syria compound this. In other words, over half of Syria’s pre-war population,
roughly 12 million people, have been killed or displaced as a result of the war. This
figure does not account for non-fatal casualties, deaths from preventable disease
and other casualties as a result of the collapse state infrastructure, the destruction
of families and communities, or the atmosphere of lawlessness that has contrib-
uted to gender-based and other forms of violence now endemic in Syria.
The scale of human displacement, injury and death as a result of this conflict,
relatively short compared to others of similar scale, is difficult to comprehend. For
instance, these figures are the equivalent to the displacement of the entire popula-
tions from Australia’s four largest cities (Sydney at 4.3 million, Melbourne at 4.1
million, Brisbane at 2.1 million and Adelaide at 1.2 million).
As of 23 October, 2016, the UNHCR had registered 4,798,574 Syrian refugees in the
Middle East. Of these, 2,753,696 are in Turkey; 1,017,433 are in Lebanon; 655,365 are
in Jordan; 225,455 are in Iraq; 117,350 are in Egypt; and 29,275 are in Libya. An esti-
mated further 144,000 Syrians are also in Europe seeking asylum. The number peaked
in March 2016 at 4,844,111 registered refugees in the region and has remained largely
unchanged, as options for resettlement elsewhere have closed.
The patterns of displacement have been affected by the patterns of the conflict.
For instance, early in the conflict numbers moving across the border were difficult
to quantify as many did not register with UNHCR or other agencies present in
Turkey, Lebanon, Jordan or Iraq, possibly in the belief that this would be a short-
lived displacement. As the conflict worsened through 2012 and 2013, the numbers
of registered refugees spiked, particularly in Lebanon as the conflict focused on the
Damascus, Homs, Hama corridor close to Lebanon’s northern border. Here, there are
close familial and economic links between communities in both Lebanon and Syria,
facilitating the rapid and large-scale movement of people as the conflict intensified.
Later, as the focus of the conflict moved north and east, numbers into Lebanon
flattened by mid-2015 but grew rapidly in Turkey. Indeed, the number of Syrian
refugees in Turkey has grown from just over 500,000 to over 2.7 million since the
start of 2014. This corresponds to the rise of daesh and the intensification of conflict
in the Kurdish areas as well as around Syria’s largest city, Aleppo, since 2015.
Internal displacement has been far harder to quantify, due to the intensity of the
conflict preventing the deployment of significant monitoring and relief assets in
Syria. However, information drawn from satellite imagery shows large clusters of
makeshift refugee camps at the geographic extremities of the country. That is, many
internally displaced people have fled urban and other areas as fighting has intensi-
fied, moving towards the closest land border crossing to seek refuge or asylum in a
neighbouring country.
The Regional and International Response

As outlined above, Syria’s neighbours have felt the brunt of the vast movement
of people out of the country since 2011. As of late 2016, Turkey, Lebanon and
Jordan have hosted over 90% of the 4.8 million registered refugees that have left
the country. This has placed immense strain on these states, each of whom has faced
significant political instability in recent years.
In addition, each of these states has a varied relationship with the global refugee
management regime, further complicating an already momentous upheaval. The
core of the global refugee regime is the 1951 Refugee Convention, supplemented by
the 1967 Protocol and subsequent regional refugee arrangements. International ref-
ugee support activities are coordinated through the Office of the UNHCR, whose
mandate, in theory, is to ‘ensure refugees’ access to their rights while in exile and …
to ensure refugees’ timely access to durable solutions’ (Loescher, Betts and Milner,
2009). However, since the end of the Cold War, the mandate of the UNHCR has
stretched considerably, primarily in response to the increased frequency of mass
refugee situations such as those witnessed in Syria.
The UNHCR defines a refugee as a person who,
owing to a well-founded fear of being persecuted for reasons of race, religion,

nationality, or membership of a particular social group or political opinion, is
outside of the country of his [sic] nationality and is unable or, owing to such fear,
is unwilling to avail himself of the protection of that country; or who, not having
a nationality and being outside the country of his former habitual residence as
a result of such events, is unable or, owing to such fear, is unwilling to return to
it. (Article 1.A.2, Convention Relating to the Status of Refugees, 1951)
A person who is deemed to fit under this definition of refugee status, has the right to seek
asylum, or protection by another state, in a third country. This person is to be granted
the right of resettlement as well as being protected by the principle of non-refoulement,
or forced return to their country of origin.
Consequently, the UNHCR has taken an increasingly more interventionist role

in terms of its involvement in refugee situations, working not only to ensure refu-
gee status processing and resettlement, but coordinating refugee camps, facilitating
the delivery of humanitarian assistance, and taking an increasingly active political
role in pressuring states on the protection of refugee rights. Further to this, in the
Middle East, it has increased its presence in almost all aspects of refugee assistance,
largely due to the scale of the current crisis, as well as the inability and, at times,
unwillingness of host states to deliver essential aid and services to the millions of
refugees across the region.
As mentioned above, this situation is further complicated by the legal ambiguity
surrounding refugee status in the region. For instance, Turkey is a signatory to the
1951 Convention but maintains what is known as the ‘geographic limitation’ men-
tioned in the original iteration of the Convention. In this regard, the Convention
was articulated primarily to deal with the ramifications of World War II. As such,
it was explicit in referencing refugees from Europe. Whilst the 1967 Protocol
removed this reference, Turkey maintains it in the domestic application of this law.
Thus, whilst Turkey theoretically adheres to the internationally agreed definition
of a refugee, they must come from Europe to qualify. As a result, the over 2 million
Syrian refugees in Turkey are not technically classified as refugees, leaving them in
a state of legal ambiguity.
Turkish–UNHCR relations, therefore, are dealt with in an ad hoc manner,
with Ankara monitoring and controlling all UNHCR movements in the country,
and particularly in the concentration of refugee camps in the southeast of the
country. This also affects the ability of those who have made it to Turkey from
Syria to apply for asylum in Europe or elsewhere as they technically do not hold
refugee status in Turkey as a basis for an asylum claim. This is a situation rep-
licated throughout the region, in perhaps a starker manner. Here, the legacy of
the Palestinian refugee crisis discussed above has seen Arab states remain non-
signatories to the 1951 Convention. As such, they also do not define the Syrians
within their borders according to the internationally agreed upon definition,
and further lack a cohesive set of domestic legislative mechanisms to manage
this issue.
This has left Syrian refugees in Lebanon, Turkey, Iraq and Jordan in a state of
legal limbo, unsure as to what their legal rights are in each host country, as well as
facing increasing shortages in access to humanitarian and other resources, and, in
certain areas, an increasingly hostile local environment. The host states themselves
also face rapidly deteriorating conditions in terms of the economic, political and
social sustainability of hosting the over 4 million Syrians outside of the country.
In addition, whilst the international community sought to increase its assistance to
these states at the landmark refugee conferences in London and New York in 2016,
this has been counterbalanced by the increasing trend towards preventing refugee
resettlement in Western states. Financial assistance remains critical, but does not
address the key issue of the wholesale displacement of the Syrian population and
the present and future impacts of this on Syria’s neighbours and, with a settlement
to the conflict, on Syria itself.
Conclusion
This chapter has taken a case study approach to investigate the various impacts
of the Syrian conflict. Since its outbreak and escalation from 2011, this con-
flict has deteriorated into a regionally based conflict with an immense human
and material cost. It is a conflict that has witnessed the direct and indirect
involvement of both regional and global powers, often to the detriment of hopes
for its resolution. It has also seen accusations of violations of international law
directed toward the Assad regime and various elements of the opposition, the
excising of significant parts of Syrian territory from government control, and the
almost total collapse of state–society relations. Overarching this is the human
cost of the conflict, affecting all citizens of the country, and seeing the direct
displacement of more than half the population. As of late 2016, there appears to
be little progress towards a lasting solution that will not only end the violence
across the country but make it possible for Syrians to return to a semblance of
pre-conflict life.
Study Questions
♦♦ What were the key factors that led to the outbreak of violence in Syria
from 2011?
♦♦ What has characterised the patterns of external intervention in the conflict
and have they exacerbated the conflict?
♦♦ How has external intervention differed across regional and global parties
involved in the conflict?
♦♦ What role has ideology and geographic parochialism played in fracturing the
opposition?
♦♦ How have patterns of regional instability – from Iraq and Lebanon as well as
the spill-over from the Arab Spring – exacerbated the conflict in Syria?
♦♦ How has the UN responded to the conflict and could this response be funda-
mentally altered?
♦♦ What are the key impacts of the Syrian refugee crisis both for the receiving states
in Lebanon, Turkey, Jordan and Iraq, and, potentially, for post-conflict Syria?
♦♦ Will a post-conflict settlement that includes Assad remaining as President of
Syria be feasible?
Further Reading
McHugo, John (2014) Syria: A Recent History. London: Saqi Books.
This is a key text for understanding the pre-conflict dynamics at play in Syria
leading up to the conflict and how these manifested themeselves with the collapse
of regime authority and the outbreak of violence.
Phillips, Christopher (2016) The Battle for Syria: International Rivalry in the New
Middle East. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press.
This volume provides a detailed overview of the various external perspectives and
involvement in the Syrian conflict that have worked to complicate the dynamics of
the conflict beyond its original complexity.
Gabiam, Nell (2016) The Politics of Suffering: Syria’s Palestinian Refugee Camps.
Bloomington, IN: Indiana University Press
This volume outlines the various layers of refugee politics at play stemming from
waves of conflict in the Levant region. Palestinians who had initially been displaced
after 1948 and 1967, now face ‘double displacement’ out of Syria due to the conflict,
in an environment of legal limbo.
Di Giovanni, Janine (2016) The Morning They Came for Us: Dispatches from Syria.
New York: Liverlight.
Whilst more journalistic than research-focused, this book provides a valuable
account of the lived experience of the conflict for both Syrian citizens and those
from outside who have witnessed it first-hand.

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Index
9/11 attacks, 146, 224, 226, 229, 267, 273, 291, 294, Anatolia, 8, 10, 11, 15, 43
313, 315 Anderson, Benedict, 100, 102, 104
Anglo-American Commission of Inquiry (1945-1946),
Abbas, Mahmoud, 151, 155 67, 162
‘Abbasid Caliphate, 2, 5, 7–8, 14, 119 Anglo-Egyptian Treaty (1936), 77
Àbd al-Qadir uprising, 30 Anglo-French Declaration (1919), 39
Abduh, Muhammad, 121, 122, 124 Anglo-Iranian Oil Company (British Petroleum), 90
Abraham, 3, 4 Anglo-Iraqi Treaty (1920), 58
Abu Bakr, 7 anti-Semitism, 52
Abu Ghraib, 306 al-Aqsa mosque, 154
Abu Musa Island, 204–6 Arab
Aden, 35, 44, 81, 325 Arabic language, 12, 102–4, 106
al-Afghani, Jamal al-Din, 121, 122, 124 Christians, 104, 106
Afghanistan, 92, 146, 225, 313–17 geographic distribution, 12
Aflaq, Michel, 107, 108 Jews, 12, 104
African Union, 210 Muslims, 104
Agha, Hussein, 145, 146 national identity, 12–13, 53
Ahmedinejad, Mahmoud, 215 nationalism see Arab nationalism
Al Jazeera, 273, 328 population in Palestine, 52, 53, 54, 55, 56–7, 163,
Alaouite dynasty, 128 164tab
Alawites, 48, 107, 239, 249, 336 Shià Muslims, 104
Albrecht, Holger, 239 Sunni Muslims, 104
Aleppo, 337, 340, 350, 353 Arab Baàth Party, 107
Algeria Arab Higher Committee, 67, 68
Algerian migration to France, 30–1 Arab Human Development Report (2002), 183
Algérie Français, 30 Arab Kingdom of Syria, 57
Civil War (1992), 228–9 Arab League, 105, 113, 142, 146–7, 152, 349
military coups, 47 Arab nationalism
nationalism, 31 Baàth Party, 107–8
political and legal structures, 241tab decline, 123
poverty, 174 impact of 1967 War on, 110–12
al-Qaeda, 227 inter-Arab tensions and militarisation, 112–14
total colonisation, 29, 30 Nasserism and the United Arab Republic, 109–10
War of Independence, 30, 31, 78, 218 origins of, 105–7
Western Sahara dispute, 207 overview of, 102–4
Algiers, 45, 46 versus political Islam, 121
Algiers Agreement, 90 relations with Israel, 112
Àli (Prophet Muhammad’s son-in-law), 7, 118 Six Day War (1967) see Six Day War (1967)
Àli, Muhammad, 19fig, 20–1, 33, 34, 106, 344 Syrian and Iraqi Baàth Party split, 108
aliyah, 39, 53, 55, 71 Turkey, 11
Allawi, Ayad, 312 uniqueness of, 104–5
Altalena, 222 Arab Revolt (1936-9), 55, 68, 69, 222
Amal Party, 88, 222 Arab Revolt (World War I), 13, 37, 38, 39, 57, 106
Amazigh communities, 30, 103 Arab Socialist Baàth Party, 108
Arab Socialist Party, 108 al-Badr, Muhammad, 81

Arab Spring, 45, 181, 229, 234, 252, 268–75, 276–84 Badr Organisation, 300
Arabian Peninsula, 35–6, 37, 128, 250 Baghdad, 12, 13, 15, 17, 46, 57, 298–9, 302, 306,
Arabic language, 12, 102–4, 106 310fig, 311
Arafat, Yasser, 142, 143, 144, 145–6 Baghdad Pact, 78, 110
Arak, 214, 215fig al-Baghdadi, Abu Bakr, 343
ARAMCO, 186–7 Bahrain, 29, 90, 173, 174, 185, 241tab, 271, 273, 327–9
Arendt, Hannah, 264 Baker, James, 207
Armed Islamic Group, 227, 229 al-Bakr, Ahmed Hassan, 108, 252, 253
Armenia, 12, 43, 101, 102 Balfour, Sir Arthur James, 38–9
Aron, Raymond, 73 Balfour Declaration, 37, 38–40, 53, 54, 55, 162, 245, 336
al-Arsuzi, Zaki, 107 baltagiya, 279, 281, 340
Ashkenazi Jews, 162 al-Banna, Hasan, 34, 35, 124
Ash-Shiraà, 93 Barak, Ehud, 144, 145
al-Assad, Bashir, 279, 335–6, 338, 346 Baruch, Barnard, 73
al-Assad, Hafiz, 86, 107, 108, 248–50, 279, 335–8 Barzani, Masoud, 345
Atatürk (Mustafa Kemal), 42, 43, 254–5 al-Bashir, Omar, 208, 210
Atoms for Peace programme, 213 Basra, 57, 309, 311
Attlee, Clement, 66, 67 Bazargan, Meydi, 133
Australia, 66, 163, 177 Beblawi, Hazem, 246
Authorisation for Use of Military Force against Iraq Begin, Menachim, 68, 87, 88, 163, 222
Resolution, 296 Beilin, Yossi, 143
authoritarianism Beirut, 86, 87, 88, 222
coercion and security apparatus, 247, 252 Bell, Gertrude, 38
definitions, 234–6 Ben Ali, Zine el-Abidine, 276, 277
formal and informal political participation, 240 Ben Gurion, David, 79
and ideology, 236 Benghazi, 321, 322, 324
Iraq (1979-1990), 252–4 Berber people, 12, 30, 103
in the Middle East, 236–9 Berm, 206, 208fig
neoliberalism, 189–91 bin Laden, Osama, 225, 226, 227, 252, 254
patron-client relationships, 240, 243, 244 Binladin Group, 225
personality cults, 248 bipolarity, 72, 73, 74, 76
political and legal structures, 241–2tab al-Bitar, Salah al-Din, 107, 108
populism, 244–5 black markets, 175–6
rentier states, 244, 246, 251, 253 Black Sea Straits, 40, 43, 73
republics and monarchies, 239–40 Black September, 84
Saudi Arabia (1953-1982), 250–2 Boland Amendments, 93
single-party regimes, 245–6 Bolshevik Revolution (1917), 40
social contract in Middle East, 243–4 Bonaparte, Napoleon, 20, 28, 29
Syria (1970-2000), 248–50 Bonn Agreement, 316–17
Turkey (1950-1997), 254–6 Bouazizi, Tarek al-Tayeb Mohamed, 277
al-Awlaki, Anwar, 227, 319 Bourguiba, Habib, 32
Axis of Evil, 295 Bremer, L. Paul, 299
Ayatollah, 119 Britain see Great Britain
Ayoob, Tarek, 273 British Mandate, Palestine, 37
Ayubi, Nazih, 48, 188, 189, 243 British Petroleum (BP), 90
Azeri, 73–4 Brumberg, Daniel, 235
Azzam, Abdullah, 225 B’Tselem (Israeli Information Centre for Human
Rights in the Occupied Territories), 148
Baàth Party Bulgaria, 29
Iraq, 90, 108, 247, 252, 253, 298, 299, 300, 301, 309 bureacratisation, 19
Syria, 86, 107, 108, 109, 113, 245, 337 Bush, George, H.W., 188
Index 361
Bush, George W., 146, 147, 188, 267, 294, 295, 296, centralised rule, 46–8
298, 315 ‘civilising mission,’ 50–1
Bushehr, 214 colonialism and independence in Gulf, 35–6
al-Bustani, Butrus, 106 colonies, protectoratesa and client states, 44–5
control of religious sphere, 49–50
Cairo, 12, 13, 15, 17, 33, 45 early colonialism, 29
Cairo Declaration (1969), 84–5 economic domination in Tunisia, 31–2
Caliphates, 2, 5, 7 Egypt, 32–5
Camp David Peace Accords, 87 interplay of Ottoman and colonial legacies, 45–6
Camp David Summit (2000), 144–6 King-Crane Commission, 53–4
Canada, 66, 163 MacDonald White Paper (1939), 56–7
capitalism, 66, 99 new elites and new institutions, 48–9
Capitulations Treaties, 21–2, 82 Palestine and Israel, 51–2
Carter, Jimmy, 92, 133, 134, 225 Sykes-Picot Agreement, 40–1
Carter Doctrine, 92, 93, 185 timeline, 28
CEE/FSU (Central/Eastern Europea and former total colonisation in Algeria, 30
Soviet Union) region, 237, 238 Turkey, 37, 42–4
Chamoun, Camille, 110 Versailles Treaty and League of Nations
checkpoints (Israel), 160–1 Mandates, 41–2
chemical weapons, 92, 253, 254, 338 World War 1, 37
Cheney, Richard, 188, 297 Zionism, 52–3
China, People’s Republic of, 78, 81 Committee for Union and Progress (CUP), 11
Christianity, 3, 4, 8, 116, 117, 121 communism, 66, 73, 74, 80, 99, 107, 108, 109
Churchill, Winston, 54 confessional communities, 83, 84
cities, 172tab Congrés pour la République (CPR), 278
Class A Mandates, 41 Congress of Berlin (1878), 29, 31
client states, 44–5 Constantine, Emperor, 4
climate change, 209 Constantinople, 8
Clinton, Bill, 144, 145, 294 Constitution of Medina, 5–6
Coalition of the Willing, 297 Constitutional Democratic Rally (RCD), 277, 278
Coalition Provisional Authority (CPA), 191, 299, 301 constitutions, 234, 241–2tab, 246, 250, 252, 255,
Cold War 278–9, 282
beginnings in Middle East, 72–4 Consul-General (Egypt), 33
Egypt and Saudi Arabia in Yemen, 80–2 Convention Relating to the Status of Refugees
Iran-Iraq war see Iran-Iraq War (1951), 351, 353, 354
Lebanese Civil War see Lebanese Civil War Corruption Perceptions Index, 177, 178tab
myth of superpower control, 74, 76 coups, military, 47, 110, 220, 281–2
nature of, 66 Crane, Charles, 53
republics and monarchies, 74, 75fig Crimea, 22
Soviet Union, 73–4 Cromer, Lord Evelyn Baring, 50
Suez Crisis, 76–80 Cyprus, 29, 31
timeline, 64–5 Czechoslovakia, 78
United States, 73, 130, 131
World War II, 65–6 daesh (Islamic State), 342, 343, 345, 346–7, 348,
colonial period 350, 353
Arab Revolt and 1937 Peel Commission, 55–6 Damascus, 12, 13, 15, 17, 45, 46, 340
Arab Revolt and Hussein-McMahon Damascus Protocol (1916), 38
correspondence, 37–8 Daraa`, 339–40, 344
Balfour Declaration, 38–40 Darfur, 207–10
beyond colonisation in Algeria, 30–1 Demirel, Suleiman, 255
British colonialism in Iraq, 57–8 democracies, 74, 100, 180, 184, 193, 234, 235, 244,
British White Papers, 54–5 245, 246, 255, 263–5, 266
Democratic Party (Turkey), 255 Muhammad Àli, 19fig, 20–1, 106

Democratic Party (United States), 79 Muslim Brotherhood, 34–5, 124
Democratic Union Party (PYD), 345 National Water Carrier programme, 111–12
democratisation Nationalist Party, 33
Arab Spring see Arab Spring political and legal structures, 241tab
democracy and, 264–5 political Islam, 128–30
democratic transitions, 265 refugees, 351, 352
Islam, 265–7 relations with Syria (1960s), 113
timeline, 262–3 Six Day War (1967), 114–15, 116
US and democracy promotion, 267–8 Soviet Union, 129
diasporas, 4, 12 Suez Canal, 32–3, 35, 76–80
Dimona nuclear facility, Israel, 212, 213fug United Arab Republic (UAR), 109
Doha Agreement, 223 United States, 128, 129, 190, 201
drones, 227, 229, 317, 318, 319, 320, 326 World War II, 66
Druze, 83, 85–6, 110 Yemen Civil War, 80–2
Dulles, John Foster, 79 Eisenhower, Dwight D., 78, 79
Eisenhower Doctrine, 79–80
East Jerusalem, 146, 148, 150fig, 154, 155, 160 elections, 235, 240, 265, 267, 268
economic issues electoral authoritarianism, 235
alternative economic measurements, 177–8 Emergency Law (Egypt), 247, 280
conflict, 175 employment see unemployment
economic liberalisation and globalisation, Ennahda (Renaissance), 276, 277, 278, 279
188–90 Erbakan, Necmettin, 43
formal and informal economy, 175–7 ethnic cleansing, 208–9, 303, 306, 309, 311, 322
Human Development Index and Millenium Ettakol (Forum Démocratique pour le Travail et les
Development Goals, 178–81 Libertés), 278
multi-track economies, 172–5
oil see oil Faisal I, King (Arab Kingdom of Syria), 42, 57
overview of Middle East, 170–81 Faisal I, King (Iraq), 58, 81
structural adjustment programmes, 190–2 Faisal I, King of Saudi Arabia, 250, 251
structural weaknesses, 170–2 Faisal II, King (Iraq), 58, 110, 124
US aid to region, 192–3 Fallujah, 301–2
Eden, Anthony, 79 Fanon, Frantz, 218
education, 270–1 Farouq, King, 77
Egypt Fatah, 146, 157, 158, 162
1973 October War, 129, 187 Fatimid Caliphate, 2, 5
Anwar Sadat, 128–30 fatwas, 50
Arab Spring, 279–84 Fighting Vanguard, 337
British colonialism, 29 Flapan, Shima, 53
Egyptian-Jordanian mutual defence agreement Forum Démocratique pour le Travail et les Libertés/
(1967), 113–14 Ettakol (FDTL), 278
Egyptian-Syrian mutual defence agreement Fourteen Points speech (1918), 53
(1966), 113 Fourth Geneva Convention, 147, 148, 157
first independent government, 34 France, 20, 21, 40, 48, 78–9, 83, 88–9, 107
Gaza, 71, 112 Franjiyeh, Suleiman, 86
Great Britain, 47–8 Free French, 66
independence (1922), 76–7 Free Officers’ Coup, 77, 124, 129
Israel natural gas deal (2005), 280 Free Syrian Army (FSA), 340, 342, 343, 344, 346,
liberals and the Wafd, 33–4 348, 350
Mamluk Caliphate, 15 Freedom and Justice Party (FJP), 282, 283, 284
military coups, 47 Freedom House, 179
Index 363
Freedom in the World reports, 237, 238tab Gulf Cooperation Council (GCC), 176, 183, 271,
French Revolution, 10, 99 325, 328, 347–8
fundamentalism, 122, 123 Gulf of Aqaba, 78
Gulf War (1990-1991), 142
Gaddhafi, Muammar, 186, 252, 320–2, 323–4
Garner, Jay, 299 al-Hadi, Abd al-Rab Mansur, 319, 325
Gaza Strip, 71, 112fig, 115, 144, 146, 150, 153, 154, hadith, 117–18, 119
156–7, 158, 201 Haganah, 67, 68
GDP (Gross Domestic Product), 171, 172–3, 175, Halabja, 253
178, 184, 192, 200fig, 201 Halliday, Fred, 49, 170
Gemayel, Bashir, 87 Hama, 249, 337–8, 342, 344, 350
General Order 39 (Coalition Provisional Authority), Hamas, 35, 142, 144, 146, 156–9, 162, 201, 284
191, 299 Hamid II, Abdul (Sultan), 11
genocide, 43, 52, 101, 102, 207–10 Hamidaddin, Ahmad bin Yahya, 81
Georges-Picot, François, 40 Hanbali school, 119
Ghannouchi, Mohamed, 277 Hanifi school, 119
Ghazi, I, 58 Haram ash-Sharif (Noble Sanctuary), 146, 154
el-Ghobashy, Mona, 236 al-Hariri, Rafiq, 223, 338, 339, 350
Global Competitive Index (GCI), 174–5 Harran, 3
Global Development Policy, 192 Hashemites, 35, 37, 38, 58, 78, 105–6, 128, 240
globalisation, 188–90, 268 head of state, 241–2tab
Golan Heights, 86, 115, 129, 148, 153, 156, 164tab, Herut party, 222
223, 250 Herzl, Theodore, 52
al-Golani, Abu Muhammad, 343 Hezbollah, 88–9, 93, 156, 222–4, 284, 338, 339, 344,
Governance of the Jurist (vilayat-e-faqih), 119–20, 348, 350
130, 132, 133, 134, 162, 266 Higgins, Rosalyn, 217
Grand Bargain, 298 Hijaz, 5, 20, 35, 36fig, 42, 106
Grand Mosque, Mecca, 251, 252 Hoffman, Bruce, 217
Grand Mufti (Ottoman institution), 14 Holland, 21
Grand National Assembly (Turkey), 42 Holocaust, 52, 67, 162
Grand Vizier (Ottoman institution), 14, 17 Homs, 337, 339, 340, 342
Great Britain Hormuz, Straits of, 205, 206
1841 defeat of Muhammad Àli, 21 Houthis, 325
Abu Musa and Tunb Islands, 205, 206 Human Development Index (HDI), 178–81, 324
Aden, 81 Human Development Reports (HDRs), 178–1790
Arabian Peninsula and Levant, 37 Huntingdon, S.P, 265
Capitulations Treaties, 21 Hussein, Faisal bin see Faisal I, King (Arab Kingdom
Egypt, 33, 47–8 of Syria)
Iraq, 47–8, 57–8, 297, 299 Hussein, King ( Jordan), 84, 109, 113
Mandate of Palestine, 66–8 Hussein, Saddam, 82, 89, 90–1, 94, 108, 252, 253,
oil, 67, 184–5 297, 298
Suez Crisis, 76–7, 78–9 Hussein, Sherif, 42, 106
Sykes-Picot Agreement, 40 Hussein-McMahon Correspondence, 37–8, 39, 40,
use of monarchical authority, 48 42, 54
Yemen, 81 hybrid regimes, 245, 254–6, 265
Greater Syria, 54, 86
Greece, 29, 73 ideology, 99, 120
Green Line, 160 ijtihad (innovation), 121, 122
Gross Domestic Product (GDP), 171, 172–3, 175, imagined communities, 100, 102
178, 184, 192, 200fig, 201 industrialisation, 19, 77, 184, 252, 253
Gulf, 35–6, 92, 170, 176, 201, 204–5 infitah (opening up) policies, 129, 189
inflation, 172, 173–4, 268 Syria, 108

information technology, 272–5 United States, 89–91, 92–4
Ino, 254–5 Iraq
Inönü, Ismet, 43, 255 1920 revolution, 58
International Assistance and Reconstruction Force 1958 revolution, 58, 79, 110
(ISAF), 313 1979–1990 regime, 252–4
International Atomic Energy Agency (IAEA), Baàth Party, 90, 108, 247, 252, 253, 298, 299, 300,
214, 215 301, 309
International Court of Justice, 206, 207, 318 cultural heritage, 298
International Criminal Court (ICC), 210, 324 Great Britain, 47–8, 57–8, 297, 299
International Front for Jihad against the Jews and invasion of Kuwait (1990), 58, 94, 142, 201, 205,
Crusaders, 225 225–6, 253, 292
International Labour Organization, 177, 270 Kingdom of, 42, 46fig, 106, 110
International Monetary Fund (IMF), 177, 190, Kurds, 57, 254, 312
191, 267 military coups, 47, 110
International Republican Institute (IRI), 192 no-fly zones, 292, 293fig
internet, 272, 274–5, 276, 281, 321 nuclear programmes, 210–11, 213
intifadas, 142, 146, 147, 156–9 oil, 58, 253, 298, 307
Iran political and legal structures, 241tab
Abu Musa and Tunb Islands, 204–6 politics post US invasion, 312–13
Bahrain, 327 public health, 306
Grand Bargain, 298 sanctions, 292–3
Islamic Republic, 101, 130, 134–5 Saudi Arabia, 82, 226
Islamic Revolution (1979), 88, 90, 130, 131–3, Shià Muslims, 57, 58, 90, 253–4, 300, 302–3, 311,
251, 265 312, 313
Kurdish and Azeri territories, 73–4 Six Day War (1967), 115
Kurdish insurgency, 90 Sunni Muslims, 57, 58, 90, 303, 309, 312, 313
Lebanese Civil War (1975-1990), 88–9 Sykes-Picot Agreement, 40
nuclear programmes, 130, 156, 210–11, 212, Syrian conflict (2011-), 349
213–16 United Nations, 191, 292–4, 297, 299
political and legal structures, 241tab US occupation (2003-2010) see US intervention in
post-war oil concessions, 73 Iraq (2003)
Saudi Arabia, 82 see also Iran-Iraq War (1980-1988)
Shià Muslims, 101, 130–1, 132, 134 Iraqi Alliance, 299
Syrian conflict (2011-), 348 al-Iraqiyya Party, 312
US hostage crisis, 133–4 Irgun, 67–8, 219, 221–2
World War II, 66 irredentist disputes, 204fig
see also Iran-Iraq War (1980-1988) ISIS (Islamic State of Iraq and al-Shams) see daesh
Iran Air Flight (655), 94 (Islamic State)
Iran-Contra affair, 89, 92–3 Islam
Iran-Iraq War (1980-1988) articles of faith and pillars, 117
chemical weapons, 92 basic tenets of, 116–17
course of the war, 91–2 democratisation, 265–7
history of tensions and US role, 89–91 hadith, 117–18
impact on Iraqi economy, 253 Islamic empires, 7–8
Iran-Contra affair, 92–3 Islamic versus Muslim states, 120
Iraqi invasion of Iran, 133, 134 legal schools, ùlama and religious authority,
Lebanon, 88 119–20
legacy of, 94 and modernity, 51
oil, 93 Muhammad (Prophet), 5–7, 14, 35, 106, 117–19
Shatt al-Arab waterway, 205 political see Islamism; political Islam
Soviet Union, 92 Quràn and Hadith, 117–18
Index 365
shari’ah, 118 Arab League, Road Map and unilateral actions,

Shià see Shià Muslims 146–7
Sunni see Sunni Muslims Camp David Summit, 144–6
al-Islam, Saif, 323, 324 intifada (1987) and impact of Gulf War, 142
Islamic Courts Union (ICU), 320 Madrid Conference (1991-1993), 141, 143
Islamic Emirate of Afghanistan, 315 Oslo Process and Declaration of Principles, 143–4
Islamic Jihad, 130, 220, 226 timeline, 140–1
Islamic Resistance Movement see Hamas
Islamic Salvation Front (FIS), 227, 228–9 Jabhat al-Nusra ( JAN), 343, 344, 346, 350
Islamic State see daesh (Islamic State) Jabhat Fateh al-Sham, 343
Islamism, 121, 123, 128, 132, 135, 251, 252, 254, 265, Jabotinsky, Zeèv, 53, 221
266, 278, 283, 284, 298, 314–15, 320, 336, 342–4 Jadid, Salah, 108
see also political Islam al-Jafaari, Ibrahim, 312
Ismail Pasha, 32–3 jahiliyyah (days of ignorance), 125–6
Ismailia, 124 Jaish al-Fatah ( JAF), 344, 348
Israel janjaweed, 208–9
1973 October War, 129, 187 Jerusalem, 68, 70–1, 115, 146, 148, 150fig, 154,
Declaration of Independence (1948), 69, 70, 155, 160
151, 161 Jesus Christ, 4, 119
Golan Heights occupation (1967), 86, 115 Jewish Agency, 67, 68, 151
identity politics, 161–3 Jewish Revolt (1945-1946), 67–8
invasion of Lebanon (1982), 222 jihad, 126–7, 220, 225, 303
Iran-Contra affair, 93 jihadism, 220–1
Israeli-Egyptian Peace Treaty (1978), 144, 156 Johnson, Lyndon, 79, 211
Israeli-Jordanian Peace Treaty (1994), 143, 156 Jordan
Jewish Revolt and end of Palestine Mandate, 66–8 annexation of West Bank (1950), 71, 112, 113
Jordan, 113 Egyptian-Jordanian mutual defence agreement
Lebanese Civil War (1975-1990), 87–8, 222, 223 (1967), 113–14
migrants to, 112, 164tab establishment as state (1946), 47
military issues, 200fig, 201, 202fig Hashemites, 106
national security, 155–61 inflation, 174
National Water Carrier programme, 111–12, Palestinian Liberation Organisation (PLO), 84
113, 115 Palestinian refugees, 112fig, 150, 152, 351, 352, 353
nationalism, 101 political and legal structures, 241tab
natural gas deal (2005) with Egypt, 280 Six Day War (1967), 115
nuclear programmes, 210–13, 214 Yemen Civil War, 81
occupation, borders and territories, 153–4 Judaism, 3–5, 6, 8, 117, 161, 162
Osiraq nuclear facility, 92–3 Jumblatt, Kamal, 85–6
political and legal structures, 241tab Justice and Development Party (AKP), Turkey,
population, 163 43, 256
settlements, 147–9, 163, 164tab Justice and Equality Movement ( JEM), 208
Six Day War (1967), 110–11, 113–15, 116
Soviet Union, 68, 71–2 kafala system, 176
Suez Crisis, 78–9 Kamrava, Mehran, 47
territories, 110fig, 114fig, 115, 116 Kandahar, 314, 315
United States, 67, 68, 71–2, 201 Karzai, Hamid, 317
War of Independence (1947-1948), 68–72 Kashmir, 105, 225, 227
withdrawal from Gaza Strip (2005), 156–7 Kemalism, Principles of, 43, 255, 256
see also Palestine Kennan, George F., 73
Israeli Defence Force (IDF), 144, 149, 154, 157–8, Kennedy, John F., 211
161, 201, 222, 223, 283 Kenya embassy bombing (1998), 224–5, 315
Israeli-Palestinian Peace Process al-Khalifa, Hamad ibn Isa, 327, 328
khedive, 33 Sykes-Picot Agreement, 40

Khomeini, Ayatollah Ruhollah, 91, 130, 131, 132, Syrian conflict (2011-), 348
133, 134 Syrian occupation, 89, 108, 223, 249, 337
King, Henry Churchill, 53 United Nations, 223
King David Hotel, 67–8, 219, 222 World War II, 66
King-Crane Commission, 53–5, 57 legal systems and structures, 241–2tab
Kirkuk, 29, 306, 307, 311, 312 Lehi, 67
Kobanî, 345–7 Lentini, Peter, 220
Kurdish Democratic Party (KDP), 312, 337, 345 Levant region, 37, 82
Kurdish National Council (KNC), 345, 346 liberal democracies, 234, 240
Kurdish Supreme Committee (KSC), 345 liberalism, 33, 98
Kurdistan Workers’ Party (PKK), 256, 337, Libya, 44, 47, 175, 186, 226, 241tab, 252, 320–4, 352
344–5, 346 Likud Party, 53, 79, 142, 143, 146, 163, 222
Kurds, 43, 57, 73–4, 90, 92, 102fig, 105, 253, 254, 312, Linz, Juan, 234–5
336, 337, 344–7 literacy, 270
Kuwait, 58, 90, 94, 142, 174, 201, 205, 225–6, 241tab, Lloyd George, David, 42
253, 292
MacDonald, Malcom, 56
La Marsa Convention, 31–2 madrassah, 314
Labour Party, 66–7 Madrid Conference (1991–1993), 141, 143
Lahoud, Emile, 338 Mahdavy, Hussein, 184
Lashkar-e-Toiba, 227 Mahdi Army, 300, 302–3, 309, 311
Lawrence, T.E., 37, 38 al-Maliki,Nouri, 92, 312, 313
League of Nations, 41–2, 46fig, 48, 50, 65, 83, 106 Maliki school, 119
Lebanese Army, 86 Malley, Robert, 145, 219
Lebanese Civil War (1975-1990) Mamluk Caliphate, 2, 5, 8, 14, 15, 20
end of, 88–9 Mandate of Iraq, 29
hostages, 93 Mandate of Jordan, 54
Iran, 88–9 Mandate of Mesopotamia, 41–2, 57
Israeli invasions (1978 and 1982), 87–8, 222, 223 Mandate of Palestine, 35, 42, 46fig, 51–2, 53, 54, 55,
Lebanese politics, 82–4 56, 66–8, 71, 101, 124, 221
the Palestinian question, 84–5 Mandate of Syria, 42, 46fig, 48, 54
Sabra and Shatilla massacres, 87–8 Mandate of Transjordan, 42, 46fig, 54
Syrian involvement, 86–7 Maronites, 83, 86, 87–8
Lebanese Forces (LF), 86–7 Marxism, 107, 132, 219
Lebanese National Movement (LNM), 85–7 Mauritania, 208fig, 229
Lebanon McMahon, Sir Henry, 38
1947–1948 war with Israel, 84 Mebazza, Fouad, 277
1958 civil war, 110 Mecca, 4, 5, 6, 35, 38, 106, 128, 226
civil war see Lebanese Civil War (1975–1990) Medina, 5–6, 35, 38, 106, 128, 226
confessional communities, 83, 84 Mehmet II (Sultan), 18
independence (1943), 83, 84 MENA (Middle East and North Agrica) region,
Iran-Iraq War (1980-1988), 88 237–8
Israeli invasion (1982), 222 Middle East Partnership Initiative (MEPI), 192, 267
Palestinian Liberation Organisation, 84–5, 86, migrant workers, 176, 183, 251
87–8 Milestones (Sayyid Qutb), 125, 126
Palestinian refugees, 84–5, 87–8, 150, 173, military issues
351–2, 353 Abu Musa and Tunb Islands, 204–6
political and legal structures, 241tab Arab Spring, 271–2
republic (1943), 42, 46fig expenditure, militaries and conscription, 200–1
Shià Muslims, 85, 88, 89, 222 Israel, 200fig, 201, 202fig
Sunni Muslims, 83, 84, 110 military coups, 47, 110, 220, 281–2
Index 367
regional security issues, 201–2 National Movement, 337

Saudi Arabia, 200fig, 201, 202fig National Pact (Lebanon), 86
Sudan and Darfur, 207–10 National Transitional Council (NTC), 321–2,
territorial disputes, 202–10 323, 324
timeline, 198–9 National Water Carrier programme, 111–12, 115
Western Sahara dispute, 206–7 nationalisations, 99, 245
see also nuclear programmes; terrorism nationalism, 10, 11, 15–16, 17, 31, 98, 99–100, 101–2,
Millennium Challenge Corporation (MCC), 105, 132, 135, 163, 165, 239, 244, 245
192, 267 see also Arab, nationalism
Millennium Declaration, 180 Nationalist Party (Egyptian), 33
Millennium Development Goals (MDGs), 178–81, nation-states, 99–100
192, 193 Naval Support Activity (NSA) Bahrain, 327
millet system, 8–9, 14, 21, 23 Negev Nuclear Research Centre, 212
Misrata, 323, 324 Nehru, Jawaharial, 76
Mizrahi Jews, 71, 162 Neo-Destour Party, 32, 245
Modern Standard Arabic (MSA), 103, 104, 106 neo-jihadism, 220–1
Mogadishu, 319, 320 neoliberalism, 188, 189–91, 192, 268, 270, 276, 299
monarchies, 48, 74, 75fig, 77, 78, 82, 106, 109, 113, Nequib, Muhammad, 77–8
128, 130, 236, 239–40, 327 Netanyahu, Benjamin, 151, 158, 162, 214
monotheism, 3, 5, 117 New Zealand, 66, 163
Montenegro, 29 Nicaragua, 93
Morocco, 172, 173, 206–7, 208fig, 242tab Nidaa Tounes (Call of Tunisia) Party, 278, 279
Morris, Benny, 114, 150 Nixon, Richard, 187, 188, 211
Morsi, Mohammed, 283–4 Nkrumah, Kwame, 76
Mossadeq, Mohammad, 90, 130, 133, 245 Noble Sanctuary (Haram ash-Sharif )., 154
Mosul, 57 no-fly zones, 292, 293fig
Motherland Party, 255 Non-Aligned Movement (NAM), 76
Mount Lebanon, 82, 83 non-proliferation treaty (NPT), 210–11, 213,
Muàwiyyah, 7 214, 215
Mubarak, Gamal, 279 North, Oliver, 93
Mubarak, Hosni (President), 32, 124, 190, 247, 279, North Yemen, 81
280, 281, 282, 283 North-West Frontier Province (NWFP), 317
Muhammad (Prophet), 5–7, 14, 35, 106, 117–19, 154 an-Nour Party, 282
Muhammad III as-Sadiq, 31 nuclear programmes
mujahedin, 226, 314 Iran, 130, 156, 210–11, 212, 213–16
mukhabarat, 246, 249, 280 Iraq, 210–11, 213
muntadayat (salons), 338 Israel, 210–13, 214
Muslim Brotherhood, 32, 34–5, 78, 123–4, 125, 126, non-proliferation treaty (NPT), 210–11, 213,
129, 156, 249, 281, 282, 283–4 214, 215
Muslim states, 120 proliferation, 199, 210
an-Nukrashi Pasha, Fahmi, 124
al-Nakhba, 68–72
Nasser, Gamal Abdel, 76, 77–9, 80, 81, 82, 108, OAPEC (Organization of Arab Petroleum
109–10, 111, 113, 124, 126, 129, 244–5 Exporting Countries), 187
Natanz, 214, 215fig Obama, Barak, 192, 312, 318, 343, 350
National Action Charter, 327 Öcalan, Abdullah, 256, 345
National Council for the Awakening of Iraq, 308–11 Occupied Territories, 35, 142, 148, 152, 161
National Democratic Institute (NDI), 192 oil
National Democratic Party (NDP), 279 1973 oil price crisis, 187–8
National Endowment for Democracy (NED), 267 Arab-Israeli war (1973), 129, 131
national interests, 82, 92, 100 Bahrain, 29, 185
National Liberation Front (FLN), 219, 228, 245 companies and politics, 185–7
and development, 170, 179–80 expansion 14th to 17th centuries, 9fig

employment rates, 173 geographic scope, 3, 8
establishment of oil economy, 183 military and politics, 18–20
fields, 182fig millet system, 8–9, 14, 21, 23
Great Britain, 67 Muhammad Àli, 19fig, 20–1, 33, 34
Gulf states, 92 origins of Arab national identity, 12–13
importance in the region, 182–3 origins of Turkish national identity, 10–11, 13
Iran-Iraq War, 93 Ottoman rule in Middle East, 13–14
Iraq, 58, 253, 298, 307 Ottoman ‘sick man,’ 21–3
liberalisation and globalisation, 188–9 Ottomanism, 10, 11
Libya, 186, 321 parliament, 17
neoliberal reforms, 189–90 population, 8–9
politics of structural adjustment, 190–2 regionalism and centralisation, 17–18
production and pricing, 171, 185, 186, 187 tanzimat reforms, 8, 9, 11, 13, 15–16
rentier states, 246 timeline, 2
resources curse, 184 World War I, 29, 183, 184
Saudi Arabia, 29, 92, 183, 185, 186–7, 250 Ottoman Public Debt Administration (OPDA),
United States, 185, 188, 192–3 22–3
Oil for Food, 293–4
Olmert, Ehud, 212, 223 Pahlavi, Shah Reza, 90, 93, 101
Oman, 36, 175, 180, 242tab, 270–1 Pakistan, 313, 314, 315, 316, 317
OPEC (Organization of Petroleum Exporting Palestine
Countries), 187 al-Nakhba, 68–72
Operation Cast Lead, 157–8 Arab population, 53, 54, 56–7, 163, 164tab
Operation Desert Fox, 292 Arab Revolt (1936-1937), 55
Operation Desert Shield, 201 declarations of statehood, 154–5, 158
Operation Desert Storm, 201, 225 Jewish population, 39, 53, 54, 55, 56–7, 163, 164tab
Operation Eagle Claw, 134 Mandate see Mandate of Palestine
Operation Enduring Freedom, 313, 315 Palestinian nationalism and identity, 163, 165
Operation Iraqi Freedom, 297–8 Palestinian refugees, 69, 71, 72fig, 84–5, 87–8,
Operation Iraqi Prosperity, 299 112fig, 116, 149–53, 173, 351–2, 353, 354–5
Operation Kadesh, 79 partition, 55, 56fig, 68, 69, 70
Operation Litani, 87 self-determination and independence, 155–6, 163,
Operation Musketeer, 79 165, 219
Operation Opera, 92–3 United Nations, 55, 68, 69, 69fig, 70, 151, 153
Operation Peace for Galilee, 87 White Papers (1922 and 1939), 55–6
Operation Protective Edge, 158–9 see also Balfour Declaration; Israel
Operation Restore Hope, 319–20 Palestine Royal Commission, 55
Operation Unified Protector, 322–3 Palestinian Authority (PA), 143–4, 146, 151, 154–5,
Organic Law, 33 157, 158
Orientalism, 51, 121 Palestinian Legislative Council, 157
Osiraq nuclear facility, 92–3, 212 Palestinian Liberation Organisation (PLO), 84–5, 86,
Oslo Accords, 143–4, 149, 152, 153, 162 87–8, 113, 114, 142, 143, 219, 250, 251
al-Otaibi, Juhaiman ibn Muhammad ibn Saif, 252 Pan-Sahel Initiative (2002), 229
Ottoman Empire Pan-Syrian Congress, 42
Armenian genocide, 43, 101, 102 parliaments, 241–2tab, 265
Class A Mandates, 41 partition, Palestine, 55, 56, 68, 69, 70
collapse of, 7–8, 9, 13, 42–3, 83 Partition Commission (1938), 55–6
colonial legacies, 45–6 Pashtun, 105, 317
decline of Ottoman authority, 16–17, 29 Patriotic Union of Kurdistan (PUK), 312
establishment of Republic of Turkey, 42–3 patron-client relationships, 240, 243, 244
ethnic and nationalist tensions, 13 Peel Commission (1937), 55–6
Index 369
Peres, Shimon, 143, 211 Rabin, Yitzhak, 143

Persian Gulf, 29, 90, 185 Raho, Captain Muhammad, 38
personality cults, 235, 248 Rashid Rida, Muhammad, 122, 124
Pétition Populair pour la Liberté, la Justice et la Rashidun Caliphate, 2, 5, 122
Development (al-Aridha), 278 Reagan, Ronald, 79, 92, 93, 133, 134, 188, 225
Phalange, 88 Reagan Doctrine, 93
pieds noirs migration, 30 Refugee Convention (1951), 152–3, 351
Pinsker, Leon, 52 refugees
Podeh, Elie, 49 Jewish, 71
POLISARIO Front, 206–7, 208fig Palestinian, 69, 71, 72fig, 84–5, 87–8, 112fig, 116,
political altruism, 216 149–53, 173, 351–2, 353, 354–5
political ideology, 99 Syrian, 347, 350–5
political Islam Reich, William, 217
versus Arab nationalism, 121 rentier states, 244, 246, 251, 253
colonialism and reform of Islamic discourse, 121–2 Republican Party (United States), 79
Islam and political authority, 128 Republican People’s Party (RPP), 255
Islam and political confrontation, 125 republicanism, 48
Islamic organisations, 123 republics, 74, 75fig, 82, 130, 239–40
jihad, 126–7 resources curse, 184
Muslim Brotherhood, 123–4 Responsibility to Protect (R2P) Doctrine, 322
origins of modern, 120–1 revisionist Zionism, 53, 221
in Sadat’s Egypt, 128–30 Revolutionary People’s Party (RPP), 43
salafism and Islamic reformism, 122–3 right of return, 70, 151, 153
Sayyid Qutb ideology, 125–6, 127, 220 Ritter, Scott, 294
see also Islamism Road Map, 146–7
political parties, 241–2tab Rojava, 345
Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine Roman Empire, 3–4
(PFLP), 84 Romania, 29
population, 8–9, 171tab Rothschild, Baron Lionel Walter, 38–9
populism, 244–5 Rumsfeld, Donald, 188
Port Said, 77, 79 Rumsfield, Donald, 294, 295, 308
poverty, 172, 174, 175, 180, 181, 324, 326 Russia, 21–2, 40, 214, 347, 348, 349–50
Powell, Colin, 296–7 see also Soviet Union
Preservation of the Holy Places Law, 154
Project for the New American Century (PNAC), 294 Sabahi, Hamdeen, 283, 284
protectorates, 44–5 Sabra massacre, 87–8
Sadat, Anwar, 124, 128–30, 220, 247
al-Qaeda, 94, 198–9, 221, 224–8, 254, 291–2, 294, as-Sadr, Muqtada, 300, 302
295, 296, 297, 313–14, 315, 317, 320, 343, 344 Sahrawi Arab Democratic Republic, 206, 207
al-Qaeda in Iraq, 226, 227, 300, 302–3, 304–5tab, 343 Said, Edward, 51, 121
al-Qaeda in the Arabian Peninsula, 226, 227, Said, Khaled, 280
318, 319 Sa’id Pasha, 32
al-Qaeda in the Islamic Magreb, 226, 227 salafism, 122–3, 125, 126
Qasim, Abd al-Karim (Iraqi President), 108, 110 Salafist Group for Preaching and Combat, 227
al-Qasimi dynasty, 81 Salan, Raoul, 30
Qatar, 82, 172, 174, 176, 183, 242tab, 273, 344 Saleh, Ali Abdullah, 319, 325
qawmiyya, 106–7 as-Sallal, Abdullah, 81
Qom, 132 Samuel, Herbert, 54
Quràn, 4, 5, 117–18, 122, 126, 127, 266 San Remo Conference (1920), 41, 42
quraysh, 7 sanctions, 292–3
Qurei, Ahmed, 143 Sandanistas, 93
al-Quwatli, Shukri (Syrian President), 109 saray, 14
satellite TV, 272–4 geographic distribution, 6, 104

Saud, Abdul Aziz ibn, 187, 250 history and beliefs, 7, 118–20
al-Saud family, 35 Iran, 101, 130–1, 132, 134
Saudi Arabia Iraq, 57, 58, 90, 253–4, 300, 302–3, 311, 312, 313
absolute monarchy (1953-1982), 250–2 Lebanon, 85, 88, 89, 222
Bahrain, 328–9 Saudi Arabia, 90, 251, 327
early 20th century, 35–6 Wahhabism, 128
independence, 46fig Yemen, 319, 325
Iran, 82 Shià Zaydi dynasty (893-1962), 36
Iraq, 82, 226 Shock and Awe campaign, 298
Islamic law, 266 Sinai, 114, 115, 129, 148, 283
military issues, 200fig, 201, 202fig single-party regimes, 245–6
oil, 29, 92, 183, 185, 186–7, 250 Siniora, Fouad, 223
political and legal structures, 242tab Sirte, 321, 323, 324
poverty, 174 al-Sisi, Abdul Fatah, 283, 284
relations with United States, 78 as-Sistani, Ayatollah Ali, 299, 302
Shià Muslims, 90, 251, 327 Six Day War (1967), 110–11, 113–15, 116
Syrian conflict (2011-), 344, 347–8 social contract, 243–4
United Arab Republic (UAR), 109 social media, 272, 274–5, 281
Yemen Civil War, 80–2, 325 social mobility, 16
SAVAK, 131, 132, 133 socialism, 16, 98, 107, 109
Sayyid Qutb ideology, 125–6, 127, 220 Somalia, 229, 319–20
secularism, 43, 49–50, 107, 122, 255, 256, 276, 278 South Sudan, 203
security barrier (Israel), 159–61 South Yemen, 81, 82
security services, 47–8, 247, 252, 271–2, 277, 279, 281 sovereignty, 100, 126, 189, 266
Sen, Amartya, 178 Soviet Union
separatist disputes, 204fig, 207–10 Afghanistan, 225, 313, 314
Sephardi Jews, 71, 162 Cold War in Middle East, 73–4
Serbia, 29 collapse of, 92
Services Office, 225 Egypt, 129
settlements, 147–9, 163, 164tab Iran-Iraq War, 92
al-shabaab, 318, 320 Israel, 68, 71–2
shabiya, 340 republics, 74
Shafiì school, 119 Suez Crisis, 78, 80
Shafiq, Ahmad, 283 Yemen, 81
Shah, Mohammad Reza, 130, 131, 132, 213 see also Russia
Shah, Reza Pahlavi, 90, 93 Spanish Sahara, 207
Shamir, Yitzhak, 142, 143 Special Tribunal for Lebanon (STL), 339
shari’ah, 14, 34, 43, 118, 119, 120, 122, 126, 129, 265, SSA (Sub-Saharan Africa) region, 237, 238
266, 273, 314 Standard Oil of California (Chevron), 185, 186
Shariati, ‘Ali, 131–2 State of Law Coalition, 312
Sharjah, Emir of, 205 states, 235
Sharon, Ariel, 87, 88, 146–7, 154, 159 Status of Forces Agreement (SOFA), 312
Shatilla massacre, 87–8 Straits of Hormuz, 205, 206
Shatt al-Arab waterway, 90, 91fig, 205 Straits of Tiran, 78, 114
Shebaà farms, 203tab, 223, 224fig structural adjustment programmes, 190–2, 270
Sherif Hussein bin Ali, 38 Sudan, 47, 180, 203, 207–10, 242tab, 266
see also Hussein-McMahon Correspondence Sudan Lilberation Movement (SLM), 208
Shià Muslims Suez Crisis, 32–3, 35, 71, 76–80, 108, 109, 110,
Alawite, 107 114, 245
Bahrain, 90, 327 suffrage, 241–2tab
Druze, 83 suicide bombings, 156, 159, 160, 222
Index 371
Sukarno, President, 76 Syrian National Coalition, 342

Suleiman I (Sultan), 21, 22 Syrian National Council (SNC), 341–2, 346, 349
Sultan (Ottoman institution), 14, 16–17, 18 Syrian Observatory for Human Rights, 340
Sunni Muslims
Arab world, 104 Taef Agreement, 89, 223
Bahrain, 90, 327 Tahrir uprising, 190, 280–1
Iraq, 57, 58, 90, 303, 309, 312, 313 Taleban, 226, 227, 313–16, 317
jihad, 126 Tantawi, Mohamed Hussein, 76, 281, 282, 283
Lebanon, 83, 84, 110 Tanzania embassy bombing (1998), 224–5, 315
legal schools, 119 tanzimat reforms, 8, 9, 11, 13, 15–16
origin of, 7, 118 taqlid (emulation), 121, 122, 125, 126, 128
population, 6, 12 taxation, 246
Syria, 249, 336, 337, 346 Temple Mount (Har haBaylth), 146, 154
Sunni Triangle, 300fig, 301 terrorism
superpowers, 74, 76, 82, 89, 91 9/11 attacks, 146, 224, 226, 229, 267, 273, 291, 294,
Supreme Council of the Armed Forces (SCAF), 313, 315
281–2 Algerian Civil War, 228–9
Sykes, Sir Mark, 40 al-Qaeda, 224–8
Sykes-Picot Agreement, 37, 40–1, 48, 57 definitions, 216–18
Syria Hezbollah, 222–4
1841 defeat of Muhammad Àli, 344 ideologies, 218
1973 October War, 129, 187 Irgun, 221–2
Arab Spring, 273 jihadism and neo-jihadism, 220–1
authoritarianism and opposition, 336–9 Kurdistan Workers’ Party (PKK), 256
Baàth Party, 86, 107, 108, 109, 113, 245, 337 national liberation, 219–20
Christian communities, 239, 249, 348 state terrorism, 216
Egyptian-Syrian mutual defence agreement Syria, 338
(1966), 113 US counter-terrorism policy, 228
establishment as state (1946), 47 War on Terror, 224, 226, 227, 229
Hafiz al-Assad, 86 Tewfik Pasha, 33
Iran-Iraq War (1980-1988), 108 Third Worldism, 219
Iraqi invasion of Kuwait (1990), 142 Tiran, Straits of, 78, 114
Kurds, 336, 337, 344–7 Tito, Josip, 76
military coups, 47 total colonisation, 29, 30
occupation of Lebanon, 89, 108, 223, 249, 337 Transitional Administrative Law (TAL), 299
Palestinian issue, 150, 249 Transitional Federal Government (TFG), 320
political and legal structures, 242tab Transparency International, 177
poverty, 174 Trans-Sahara Counterterrorism Initiative
refugee crisis, 347, 350–5 (TSCTI), 229
relations with Egypt (1960s), 113 Treaty of al-Àqeer (1922), 184
republican authoritarianism (1970-2000), 248–50 Treaty of Lausanne (1924), 43
Six Day War (1967), 115, 116 Treaty of Sanaà, 81
Sunni Muslims, 249, 336, 337, 346 Treaty of Sèvres (1920), 42–3, 44fig
Sykes-Picot Agreement, 40 Tripoli, 323–4
Syrian conflict (2011-), 334–5, 339–50 Truman, Harry, 67, 68, 71
terrorism, 338 Truman Doctrine, 73
US invasion of Iraq (2003), 108 Tunb Islands, 205, 206
World War II, 66 Tunisia, 29, 31–2, 128, 172, 174, 242tab, 272, 276–9
Syria Accountability and Lebanese Sovereignty Turkey
Restoration Act, 338 Armenian genocide, 43, 101, 102
Syrian Communist Party (SCP), 107, 337, 340 Black Sea Straits, 73
Syrian Muslim Brotherhood, 337–8, 341 colonial period, 37
Democratic Party (DP), 255 UNICEF, 292–3

Gaza Strip blockade, 158 UNMOVIC, 292, 296
hybrid regime (1950-97), 254–6 UNOSOM (Operation in Somalia), 319–20
Justice and Development Party (AKP), 256 UNRWA (UN Relief and Works Agency for
military coups, 43, 47, 255 Palestine), 149–50, 151, 153, 158
military issues, 200fig, 201, 202fig UNSCOM, 292
Motherland Party, 255 UNSCOP (Special Committee on Palestine),
national identity, 10–11, 13 68, 69
nationalism, 101–2 United States
Palestinian refugees, 352, 353, 354–5 Agency for International Aid and Development
partition in Western Turkey, 55 (USAID), 190, 192–3, 267
political and legal structures, 242tab aid to Middle East, 192–3
Republic of Turkey, 42–4, 101, 102 Cold War in Middle East, 73, 130, 131
Sykes-Picot Agreement, 40 counter-terrorism policy, 228
Syrian conflict (2011-), 345, 346–7 and democratisation, 267–8
Welfare Party, 256 Egypt, 128, 129, 190, 201
World War II, 43 Global Development Policy, 192
Turkish National Movement, 43 intervention in Afghanistan, 146, 225, 313–17
two-state solution, 55, 153–4 intervention in Iraq see US intervention in Iraq
(2003-2010)
UAE, 176, 183, 184, 200fig, 201, 202fig, 204–6, intervention in Somalia, 319–20
242tab, 251 intervention in Yemen, 318–19
ùlama, 50, 118, 119–20 Iranian hostage crisis (1979), 133–4
Umar, 7 Iran-Iraq War (1980-1988), 89–91, 92–4
Umayyad Caliphate, 2, 5, 7 Israel, 67, 68, 71–2, 201
ummah, 5, 6, 119 Kenya and Tanzania embassy bombings (1998),
unemployment, 171, 172–3, 268, 269–70 224–5, 315
UNICEF, 292–3 Lebanese Civil War, 88–9
United Arab Command (UAC), 113 oil, 185, 188, 192–3
United Arab Republic (UAR), 81, 108, 109–10 Saudi Arabia, 78
United Iraqi Alliance, 312 September 11th 2001 attacks, 146, 224, 226, 229,
United Kingdom see Great Britain 267, 273, 291, 294, 313, 315
United Nations Suez Crisis, 78–80
Chapter VII Resolutions, 151, 210, 215, 295, Syrian conflict (2011-), 346, 347, 350
296, 339 timeline of military interventions, 290
Convention on Genocide (1948), 101 War on Terror, 224, 291, 313
Declaration on the Granting of Independence to Yemen, 227, 229, 318–19
Colonial Countries and Peoples, 206–7 see also Operations
Millenium Declaration, 180 Universal Declaration of Human Rights, 153
Palestine partition (1947), 55, 68, 69fig, 70 Urabi, Ahmed, 34–5
Relief and Works Agency (UNRWA), 71, 351, 352 US intervention in Iraq (2003-2010)
Resolutions, 69, 92, 94, 142, 144, 147, 151, 153, declining violence, 308–11
155, 157, 181, 191, 207, 208fig, 210, 215, 223, human and material costs, 303–8
225, 292–4, 296, 297, 299, 322, 324 invasion and occupation (2003), 89, 102, 108, 146,
Suez Crisis, 79, 114 191, 224, 252, 253, 254, 273, 297–9
terrorism, 216 Iraqi insurgency (2003-8), 298, 300–3
UNAMID (UN/African Union Peacekeeping lead-up to war, 291–2
Force), 209–10 new Iraqi political system, 312–13
UNDP (Development Programme), 178–9 Oil for Food controversy, 293–4
UNEP (Environment Programme), 209 sanctions, 292–3
UNHCR (High Commissioner for Refugees), 351, US withdrawal, 311–12
352, 353–4 weapons of mass destruction (WMDs), 292, 294–7
Index 373
USS Cole, 315 Williamson, John, 191

USS Samuel Roberts, 94 Wilson, Colonel Cyril, 38
Uthman, 7 Wilson, Woodrow, 53
women, 128, 181
Vananu, Mordechai, 212 World Bank, 174, 176, 177, 190, 191, 265, 267
Versailles Treaty, 41–2 World Economic Forum, 174, 175tab
vilayat-e-faqih (Governance of the Jurist), 119–20, World War I, 12, 17, 29, 37, 38, 183, 184
130, 132, 133, 134, 162, 266 World War II, 43, 65–6, 256
vilayets (provinces), 15, 57 The Wretched of the Earth, 218
Wafd (‘Delegation’) Party, 32, 34, 35, 281 Yahya Muhammad, Imam, 81
al-Wahhab, Muhammad Ibn ‘abd, 35, 128 al-Yaziji, Nasif, 106
Wahhabism, 35–6, 128, 250 Yemen, 80–2, 114, 172, 175, 191, 227, 229, 242tab,
War on Terror, 224, 226, 227, 229, 291, 313 318–19, 324–6
Washington Consensus, 191, 192 Young Ottoman movement, 10, 11
wataniyya, 106–7 Young Turk movement, 10–11, 12, 37, 101
weapons of mass destruction (WMDs), 292, 294–7 youth bulge, 269
Welfare Party, 256
West Bank, 71, 84, 112, 112fig, 113, 115, 144, 148, al-Zarqawi, Abu Musab, 227, 300
149, 150, 152, 153, 156, 157, 158, 160, 161 al-Zawahiri, Ayman, 220, 343
Western Sahara dispute, 206–7, 208fig, 219 Zaydi, 325
White Papers, 54–5, 56–7, 66, 67 Zintain militia, 324
White Revolution, Iran, 131 Zionism, 39, 52–3, 54, 55, 66, 67, 69–70, 71, 101, 150,
Wikileaks, 276 161, 219

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What is the structure of the book?

An Introduction to

Los Angeles | London | New Delhi | Singapore | Washington DC | Melbourne

SAGE Publications Asia-Pacific Pte Ltd

Library of Congress Control Number: 2017941201

About the Author ix

1 The Ottoman Empire and its Legacy in the Middle East 1

Dr Benjamin MacQueen is a Senior Lecturer and Head of the Department of

independence. Where this historic background is critical, it is presented in such

An Introduction to Middle East Politics 2nd edition is supported by a wealth of online

♦♦ The importance of religion and empire in the pre-Ottoman Middle East.

70 ce: Roman conquest of the 1517–1923: The Ottoman Caliphate

The Middle East in the Imperial Era

The Middle East’s Religious and Imperial Heritage

of temporal political authority and understand the relationship of this to spiritual

♦♦ The Rashidun Caliphate (632–61)

Selections from the Constitution of Medina

In addition to the increasingly specific revelations regulating the politics of the

The People of the Ottoman Empire

The Millet System

Atlantic R. nube ter

Buda OF THE CRIM R

Barcelona Naples MA Salonika Iznik ARMENIA

SARDINA Bursa (1402) Erzerum Manzikert

Tangier MALTA RHODES SYRIA R

Ottoman lands 1359

Territories restored to Safavid control 1603

OF THE 0 200 400 600 800

Figure 1.2 Expansion of the Ottoman Empire, 14th to 17th centuries ce

The Emergence of National Identities

Origins of Turkish National Identity

Origins of Arab National Identity

Emerging Ethnic and Nationalist Tensions

The Legacy of Ottoman Rule in the Middle East

the outside world, as well as fostering particularly sharp resentment of consistent

Ottoman Rule in the Middle East

The Tanzimat Reforms and ‘Modernisation’

The Reform Process and the Decline of Ottoman Authority

The Ottoman Empire, 1914

Regionalism and Centralisation

The Military and Political Authority

The Military and Politics in the Ottoman Empire

20° 30° Konya 40° 50° 60°

Medina 1818, ‘38

Muhammad `Ali in Egypt

Europe and the Ottoman ‘Sick Man’

happening. As such, the situation of economic dependency of the region on Europe

A seminal work on the transition from Ottoman to Republican rule in Turkey

Go to https://study.sagepub.com/macqueen2e for further material including free

1 July 1798: Napoleon’s landing in 8 March 1919–22 February 1922:

16 November 1869: The opening of 11 July 1921: Establishment of the

13 June–13 July 1878: Congress 23 August 1921: Establishment

18 October 1912: Establishment of 29 September 1923: Establishment

9 May 1916: The Sykes–Picot 15 April 1936–30 September 1939:

2 November 1917: The Balfour 11 November 1936–18 January

patterns of colonial authority as well as local forms of political organisation in

he Arab Revolt and the Hussein–McMahon

he Versailles Treaty and the League of