Tamara Cofman Wittes
Author of Freedom’s Unsteady March: America’s Role in Building Arab Democracy
(from Brookings Institution Press )
Read the review here.
Please visit the book's page on the publisher's website here.
A Skeptic’s Q&A
Tamara Cofman Wittes bills her new book as a “skeptic’s handbook” for building a serious, long-term democracy promotion policy for the Middle East. Taking her at her word, we posed some skeptical questions.
Isn’t this an awkward time for a book arguing that the United States should engage in assertive democracy promotion in the Arab world? Hasn’t the Bush record demonstrated the folly of America trying to impose its politics on this region?
I admit that, in an American context, it’s an awkward time to be making the argument I’m making in Freedom’s Unsteady March—namely, that the United States must, for its own interests, help foster a more liberal political order in the Arab Middle East. Certainly this year’s presidential campaign seems a race to see which candidate can shift us farthest away from Bush’s foreign policy, as the drive for democracy in the Middle East is seen as Bush’s hallmark issue.
Democracy promotion has also become linked, in the public mind, to the war in Iraq—even though the idea of bringing democracy to Iraq was actually a post-facto justification.But there’s another, ultimately more relevant context for this discussion, and that’s what is going on in the Middle East itself. This region does not just stand still while Americans wring our hands at our errors of judgment; it keeps evolving, and not always in a good direction.
Right now there are democracy movements and democratic activists across the region that want and need our support; there are young people who are increasingly frustrated by how far behind the rest of the world their countries have slipped; and there are radical elements that are eager to exploit the Arab governments’ failings, and our failings, for their own ends. Governments in the region are struggling with these challenges but are trapped in webs of their own weaving—they can’t undertake major reforms without upsetting important constituencies and perhaps undermining their own rule.
But given how unpopular the United States is among Arab publics, how much of an impact can we really have? Wouldn’t we do better just to stop intervening in this region’s messy internal politics and let them figure things out for themselves?
The United States government—under any new president—will not be able to separate its national interests from the future of the Middle East. Apart from our energy needs, America is engaged in the region to protect strategic naval routes and air bases, to defend allied governments such as Turkey and Israel, and to buy and sell American products. And, of course, any American president must remain concerned about those radical elements that continue to foment hatred against us and to plan violent attacks against Americans at home and abroad.
Americans have been present in the Middle East for centuries, as missionaries, scholars, and businessmen. Arabs know that the United States has a massive influence on their lives—indeed, they believe we have a more powerful influence over them than we do, in fact. The least we can do is be conscious of how our choices really do affect their lives, and what choices we can make that will improve the future that we share with them.
I believe that, given the inevitability of American engagement in the Middle East and the sizeable American impact on the Arab world, we ought to wield our influence consciously: on behalf of the future that they consistently aspire to for themselves but cannot achieve all on their own. That future presents them with progressively more freedom over their own lives, more opportunities in life, and a more peaceful environment in which to enjoy that freedom and opportunity.
Has the Bush administration done anything right on this front? What can we learn from their mistakes?
Some would argue that Bush has given democracy promotion such a bad name that the concept itself will have to be abandoned until this association fades. I think that’s a ridiculous overstatement. There is no question that the Bush administration’s approach to democracy promotion—even setting aside the Iraq war for a moment—had some harmful effects.
The Bush White House pushed hardest for democratic progress in the places least equipped to build democracy: weak governments in societies riven by conflict. And Bush emphasized elections in those places rather than establishing basic political freedoms and legal frameworks that make an election a meaningful exercise in political choice. In places such as Lebanon and the Palestinian Authority, this approach backfired, underscoring for citizens the incapacity of their governments and hardening the dangerous divisions within their societies.
Still, the Bush administration’s focused attention to the issues of democracy and human rights did create some new opportunities for activists in the region, and many of them used Bush’s statements and polices to their best advantage. Women’s activists in Kuwait and Morocco, anti-corruption activists in Yemen, citizen election monitors in Egypt—all pushed their governments’ boundaries, knowing that the U.S. president was keeping an eye on developments.
Unfortunately, there were also instances where local activists took Bush’s words seriously and, when they were jailed in pursuit of their rights, heard no words of protest from the White House. And then, having staked so much of its policy on elections, the Bush administration got cold feet when some of those elections yielded support for sectarian or radical political forces. The inconsistency of U.S. policy is a major barrier to its greater impact.
Of course, as I argue in the book, American democracy promotion will never be fully consistent because American interests differ across countries and over time. But resolving our own ambivalence about the project is a core necessity to building a long-term strategy that can overcome short-term exigencies and produce, over time, greater freedom in the Middle East.
Isn’t it naïve to imagine that the United States could press Arab dictators to give up power? If we need these leaders to help us in Iraq or to make peace with Israel, should we really risk those goals on behalf of something as vague as democratization? Is it possible for the United States to preserve working relationships with the governments of these countries while pushing them to give up power?
Of course, no autocrat wants to put himself out of a job. Most will not share or give up power unless they are forced to do so. That pressure should come from citizens mainly, and the U.S. role is to support their just demands. What the United States can do is ask Arab autocrats to adhere to basic human rights norms and give their citizens the freedom to express their demands through public meetings, open media, citizen advocacy, and forming political parties and nongovernmental associations. We can ask these governments to become more transparent to their people as they are already becoming to global investors and business partners.
Why would Arab regimes listen when the United States asks them to take this risky step?
Because we value our relationships with the Arab world and our ability to cooperate with them on issues of common concern—and so do they. We might need Egypt’s help in making Palestinian-Israeli peace, but they need our help to do the same. We might need Saudi Arabia’s help in stabilizing world oil prices, but they need our security guarantees to ensure their oil gets to world markets. In the past, public sentiment rarely mattered. But today, regional radicals are using these enduring conflicts to mobilize people to hatred and violence; they are also capitalizing on the failings of Arab governments to meet basic needs, which have left millions of young people both idle and resentful; and they are blaming the region’s miseries on the perfidy of Arab regimes who cling to humiliating alliances with the American imperialist. In this environment, U.S.-Arab cooperation is both more important than ever—and much harder to sustain.
A new foundation for U.S.-Arab cooperation must include attention to festering regional conflicts AND a positive agenda that can compete with the radicals’ promise of resistance and redemption. The aspirations Arab citizens consistently cite for themselves are economic opportunity, social mobility, and political liberty. For the sake of its long-term interests in the Middle East, the United States should position itself as helping to bring those things to Arab citizens in partnership with their governments. And enlightened, self-interested Arab leaders should readily embrace that vision as a way to defeat their extremist opponents. I think it’s actually a pretty persuasive case, and the alternatives are increasingly clear and unpalatable.
What are you working on at the moment?
I’m heading to Egypt just after this book is released, to research an article on the future of U.S.-Egyptian relations. This is one of America’s most important Arab allies, but the relationship has been drifting for years with resentment and recrimination building on both sides. Egypt’s president is aging and has no named successor, so the transition to a new leader will present both challenges and opportunities with regard to democracy and the broader U.S.-Egyptian relationship. My article will explore the prospects for change in Egypt.
What are you reading right now?
I’m reading two books: Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi’s Flow: The Psychology of Optimal Experience, and Thucydides’s History of the Peloponnesian War. The former is really insightful and engaging in that it helps me understand why I enjoy what I do, and how to ensure that I continue to enjoy it. It is teaching me that the more ego is present in my work, the less fun it really is; a good corrective to a newly published author with a career as a talking head!
Thucydides is required reading for any student of International Relations, but in grad school we only read excerpts. This time I’m reading the whole thing and enjoying its relevance to my work, but also improving my understanding of its historical and cultural context. I’m part of a book club that is (very slowly) working its way through the St. John’s College Reading List and this is our first piece of ancient Greek nonfiction.
