[Foreign Affairs] Putin's Brain

Alexander Dugin and the Philosophy Behind Putin's Invasion of Crimea

By Anton Barbashin and Hannah Thoburn

Since the collapse of the Soviet Union, Russia has searched fruitlessly for a new grand strategy -- something to define who Russians are and where they are going. “In Russian history during the 20th century, there have been various periods -- monarchism, totalitarianism, perestroika, and finally, a democratic path of development,” Russian President Boris Yeltsin said a couple of years after the collapse of the Soviet Union, “Each stage has its own ideology,” he continued, but now “we have none.”

To fill that hole, in 1996 Yeltsin designated a team of scholars to work together to find what Russians call the Russkaya ideya (“Russian idea”), but they came up empty-handed. Around the same time, various other groups also took up the task, including a collection of conservative Russian politicians and thinkers who called themselves Soglasiye vo imya Rossiya (“Accord in the Name of Russia”). Along with many other Russian intellectuals of the day, they were deeply disturbed by the weakness of the Russian state, something that they believed needed to be fixed for Russia to return to its rightful glory. And for them, that entailed return to the Russian tradition of a powerful central government. How that could be accomplished was a question for another day.

Russian President Vladimir Putin, to whom many of the Soglasiye still have ties, happened to agree with their ideals and overall goals. He came to power in 1999 with a nationwide mandate to stabilize the Russian economy and political system. Thanks to rising world energy prices, he quickly achieved that goal. By the late 2000s, he had breathing room to return to the question of the Russian idea. Russia, he began to argue, was a unique civilization of its own. It could not be made to fit comfortably into European or Asian boxes and had to live by its own uniquely Russian rules and morals. And so, with the help of the Russian Orthodox Church, Putin began a battle against the liberal (Western) traits that some segments of Russian society had started to adopt. Moves of his that earned condemnation in the West -- such as the criminalization of “homosexual propaganda” and the sentencing of members of Pussy Riot, a feminist punk-rock collective, to two years in prison for hooliganism -- were popular in Russia.

True to Putin’s insistence that Russia cannot be judged in Western terms, Putin’s new conservatism does not fit U.S. and European definitions. In fact, the main trait they share is opposition to liberalism. Whereas conservatives in those parts of the world are fearful of big government and put the individual first, Russian conservatives advocate for state power and see individuals as serving that state. They draw on a long tradition of Russian imperial conservatism and, in particular, Eurasianism. That strain is authoritarian in essence, traditional, anti-American, and anti-European; it values religion and public submission. And more significant to today’s headlines, it is expansionist.

After the collapse of the Soviet Union, ultranationalist ideologies were decidedly out of vogue.

RUSSIAN ROOTS

The roots of Eurasianism lie in Russia’s Bolshevik Revolution, although many of the ideas that it contains have much longer histories in Russia. After the 1917 October Revolution and the civil war that followed, two million anti-Bolshevik Russians fled the country. From Sofia to Berlin and then Paris, some of these exiled Russian intellectuals worked to create an alternative to the Bolshevik project. One of those alternatives eventually became the Eurasianist ideology. Proponents of this idea posited that Russia’s Westernizers and Bolsheviks were both wrong: Westernizers for believing that Russia was a (lagging) part of European civilization and calling for democratic development; Bolsheviks for presuming that the whole country needed restructuring through class confrontation and a global revolution of the working class. Rather, Eurasianists stressed, Russia was a unique civilization with its own path and historical mission: To create a different center of power and culture that would be neither European nor Asian but have traits of both. Eurasianists believed in the eventual downfall of the West and that it was Russia’s time to be the world’s prime exemplar.

In 1921, the exiled thinkers Georges Florovsky, Nikolai Trubetzkoy, Petr Savitskii, and Petr Suvchinsky published a collection of articles titled Exodus to the East, which marked the official birth of the Eurasianist ideology. The book was centered on the idea that Russia’s geography is its fate and that there is nothing any ruler can do to unbind himself from the necessities of securing his lands. Given Russia’s vastness, they believed, its leaders must think imperially, consuming and assimilating dangerous populations on every border. Meanwhile, they regarded any form of democracy, open economy, local governance, or secular freedom as highly dangerous and unacceptable.

In that sense, Eurasianists considered Peter the Great -- who tried to Europeanize Russia in the eighteenth century -- an enemy and a traitor. Instead, they looked with favor on Tatar-Mongol rule, between the thirteenth and fifteenth centuries, when Genghis Khan’s empire had taught Russians crucial lessons about building a strong, centralized state and pyramid-like system of submission and control.

Eurasianist beliefs gained a strong following within the politically active part of the emigrant community, or White Russians, who were eager to promote any alternative to Bolshevism. However, the philosophy was utterly ignored, and even suppressed in the Soviet Union, and it practically died with its creators. That is, until the 1990s, when the Soviet Union collapsed and Russia’s ideological slate was wiped clean.

Alexander Dugin. (Dugin.ru)

THE EVOLUTION OF A REVOLUTIONARY

After the collapse of the Soviet Union, ultranationalist ideologies were decidedly out of vogue. Rather, most Russians looked forward to Russia’s democratization and reintegration with the world. Still, a few hard-core patriotic elements remained that opposed de-Sovietization and believed -- as Putin does today -- that the collapse of the Soviet Union was the greatest geopolitical catastrophe of the century. Among them was the ideologist Alexander Dugin, who was a regular contributor to the ultranationalist analytic center and newspaper Den’ (later known as Zavtra). His earliest claim to fame was a 1991 pamphlet, “The War of the Continents,” in which he described an ongoing geopolitical struggle between the two types of global powers: land powers, or “Eternal Rome,” which are based on the principles of statehood, communality, idealism, and the superiority of the common good, and civilizations of the sea, or “Eternal Carthage,” which are based on individualism, trade, and materialism. In Dugin’s understanding, “Eternal Carthage,” was historically embodied by Athenian democracy and the Dutch and British Empires. Now, it is represented by the United States. “Eternal Rome” is embodied by Russia. For Dugin, the conflict between the two will last until one is destroyed completely -- no type of political regime and no amount of trade can stop that. In order for the “good” (Russia) to eventually defeat the “bad” (United States), he wrote, a conservative revolution must take place.

His ideas of conservative revolution are adapted from German interwar thinkers who promoted the destruction of the individualistic liberal order and the commercial culture of industrial and urban civilization in favor of a new order based on conservative values such as the submission of individual needs and desires to the needs of the many, a state-organized economy, and traditional values for society based on a quasi-religious view of the world. For Dugin, the prime example of a conservative revolution was the radical, Nazi-sponsored north Italian Social Republic of Salò (1943–45). Indeed, Dugin continuously returned to what he saw as the virtues of Nazi practices and voiced appreciation for the SS and Herman Wirth’s occult Ahnenerbe group. In particular, Dugin praised the orthodox conservative-revolutionary projects that the SS and Ahnenerbe developed for postwar Europe, in which they envisioned a new, unified Europe regulated by a feudal system of ethnically separated regions that would serve as vassals to the German suzerain. It is worth noting that, among other projects, the Ahnenerbe was responsible for all the experiments on humans in the Auschwitz and Dachau concentration camps.

Between 1993 and 1998, Dugin joined the Russian nationalist legend Eduard Limonov in creating the now banned National-Bolshevik Movement (later the National-Bolshevik Party, or NBP), where he became the chief ideologist of a strange synthesis of socialism and ultra-right ideology. By the late 1990s, he was recognized as the intellectual leader of Russia’s entire ultra-right movement. He had his own publishing house, Arktogeya (“Northern Country”), several slick Web sites, a series of newspapers and magazines, and published The Foundation of Geopolitics, an immediate best seller that was particularly popular with the military.

Since the early 2000s, Dugin’s ideas have only gained in popularity. Their rise mirrors Putin’s own transition from apparent democrat to authoritarian.

Dugin’s introduction to the political mainstream came in 1999, when he became an adviser to the Russian parliamentarian Gennadii Seleznev, one of Russia’s most conservative politicians, a two-time chairman of the Russian parliament, a member of the Communist Party, and a founder of the Party of Russia’s Rebirth. That same year, with the help of Vladimir Zhirinovsky, leader of Russia’s nationalist and very misnamed Liberal Democratic Party of Russia, Dugin became the chairman of the geopolitical section of the Duma’s Advisory Council on National Security.

But his inclusion in politics did not necessarily translate to wider appeal among the politics of the elite. For that, Dugin had to transform his ideology into something else -- something uniquely Russian. Namely, he dropped the most outrageous, esoteric, and radical elements of his ideology, including his mysticism, and drew instead on the classical Eurasianism of Trubetzkoy and Savitskii. He set to work creating the International Eurasian Movement, a group that would come to involve academics, politicians, parliamentarians, journalists, and intellectuals from Russia, its neighbors, and the West.

TO EUROPE AND BEYOND

Like the classical Eurasianists of the 1920s and 1930s, Dugin’s ideology is anti-Western, anti-liberal, totalitarian, ideocratic, and socially traditional. Its nationalism is not Slavic-oriented (although Russians have a special mission to unite and lead) but also applies to the other nations of Eurasia. And it labels rationalism as Western and thus promotes a mystical, spiritual, emotional, and messianic worldview.

But Dugin’s neo-Eurasianism differs significantly from previous Eurasianist thought. First, Dugin conceives of Eurasia as being much larger than his predecessors ever did. For example, whereas Savitskii believed that the Russian-Eurasian state should stretch from the Great Wall of China in the east to the Carpathian Mountains to the west, Dugin believes that the Eurasian state must incorporate all of the former Soviet states, members of the socialist block, and perhaps even establish a protectorate over all EU members. In the east, Dugin proposes to go as far as incorporating Manchuria, Xinxiang, Tibet, and Mongolia. He even proposes eventually turning southwest toward the Indian Ocean.

In order to include Europe in Eurasia, Dugin had to rework the enemy. In classical Eurasianist thought, the enemy was the Romano-Germanic Europe. In Dugin’s version, the enemy is the United States. As he writes: “The USA is a chimerical, anti-organic, transplanted culture which does not have sacral state traditions and cultural soil, but, nevertheless, tries to force upon the other continents its anti-ethnic, anti-traditional [and] “babylonic” model.” Classical Eurasianists, by contrast, favored the United States and even considered it to be a model, especially praising its economic nationalism, the Monroe Doctrine, and its non-membership in the League of Nations.

Another crucial point of difference is his attitude toward fascism and Nazi Germany. Even before World War II, classical Eurasianists opposed fascism and stood against racial anti-Semitism. Dugin has lauded the state of Israel for hewing to the principles of conservativism but has also spoken of a connection between Zionism and Nazism and implied that Jews only deserved their statehood because of the Holocaust. He also divides Jews into “bad” and “good.” The good are orthodox and live in Israel; the bad live outside of Israel and try to assimilate. Of course, these days, those are views to which he rarely alludes in public.

PUTIN’S PLAY

Since the early 2000s, Dugin’s ideas have only gained in popularity. Their rise mirrors Putin’s own transition from apparent democrat to authoritarian. In fact, Putin’s conservative turn has given Dugin a perfect chance to “help out” the Russian leader with proper historical, geopolitical, and cultural explanations for his policies. Recognizing how attractive Dugin’s ideas are to some Russians, Putin has seized on some of them to further his own goals.

Although Dugin has criticized Putin from time to time for his economic liberalism and cooperation with the West, he has generally been the president’s steadfast ally. In 2002, he created the Eurasia Party, which was welcomed by many in Putin’s administration. The Kremlin has long tolerated, and even encouraged, the creation of such smaller allied political parties, which give Russian voters the sense that they actually do live in a democracy. Dugin’s party, for example, provides an outlet for those with chauvinistic and nationalist leanings, even as the party remains controlled by the Kremlin. At the same time, Dugin built strong ties with Sergei Glazyev, who is a co-leader of the patriotic political bloc Rodina and currently Putin’s adviser on Eurasian integration. In 2003, Dugin tried to become a parliamentary deputy along with the Rodina bloc but failed.

Although his electoral foray was a bust, some voters’ positive reception to his anti-Western projects encouraged Dugin to forge ahead with the Eurasianist movement. After the shock of Ukraine’s Orange Revolution in 2004, he created the Eurasianist Youth Union, which promotes patriotic and anti-Western education. It has 47coordination offices throughout Russia and nine in countries in the Commonwealth of Independent States, Poland, and Turkey. Its reach far exceeds that of any existing democratic-oriented movement.

In 2008, Dugin was made a professor at Russia’s top university, Moscow State University, and the head of the national sociological organization Center for Conservative Studies. He also appears regularly on all of Russia’s leading TV channels, commenting on both domestic and foreign issues. His profile has only increased since the pro-democracy protests of the winter of 2011–12 and Putin’s move around the same time to build a Eurasian Union. His outsized presence in Russian public life is a sign of Putin’s approval; Russian media, particularly television, is controlled almost entirely by the Kremlin. If the Kremlin disapproves of (or not longer has a use for) a particular personality, it will remove him or her from the airwaves.

Dugin and other like-minded thinkers have wholeheartedly endorsed the Russian government’s action in Ukraine, calling on him to go further and take the east and south of Ukraine, which, he writes, “welcomes Russia, waits for it, pleads for Russia to come.” The Russian people agree. Putin’s approval ratings have climbed over the past month, and 65 percent of Russians believe that Crimea and eastern regions of Ukraine are “essentially Russian territory” and that “Russia is right to use military force for the defense of the population.” Dugin, then, has proven to be a great asset to Putin. He has popularized the president’s position on such issues as limits on personal freedom, a traditional understanding of family, intolerance of homosexuality, and the centrality of Orthodox Christianity to Russia’s rebirth as a great power. But his greatest creation is neo-Eurasianism.

Dugin’s ideology has influenced a whole generation of conservative and radical activists and politicians, who, if given the chance, would fight to adapt its core principles as state policy. Considering the shabby state of Russian democracy, and the country’s continued move away from Western ideas and ideals, one might argue that the chances of seeing neo-Eurasianism conquer new ground are increasing. Although Dugin’s form of it is highly theoretical and deeply mystical, it is proving to be a strong contender for the role of Russia’s chief ideology. Whether Putin can control it as he has controlled so many others is a question that may determine his longevity.

[Foregin Affairs Website 2014/3/31]

[Foreign Affairs] Man in the Middle

Why Abdullah Gul Will Disappoint the West

By Steven A. Cook

Many observers, both in Turkey and abroad, believe that this is Turkish President Abdullah Gul's moment to shine. In recent months, Turkey's democracy has careened wildly off its democratic path, as Prime Minister Recep Tayyip Erdogan has resorted to increasingly authoritarian measures -- including a ban on access to Twitter and YouTube -- to suppress what he believes is an existential threat posed by his onetime ally Fethullah Gulen, a charismatic Turkish cleric who has followers in positions of influence throughout the government. Erdogan seems intent on trying to excise Gulenists from Turkish society entirely. Erdogan's paranoia has also moved the AKP toward becoming an authoritarian cult of personality.

This is where many Turks, Europeans, and Americans have hoped that Gul would step in to steer Turkey back onto a democratic course. In mid-February, Gunay Hilal Aygun, a columnist for the Gulen-affiliated Today’s Zaman, asked, “Will President Gul let the Turkish people down?” The Financial Times picked up on this theme a few weeks later when the editorial board called on Gul “to take a stand” against Erdogan. What these observers seem to want is for Gul to come down from the apolitical confines of his presidential office and directly challenge Erdogan for leadership of the AKP, with a promise of restoring the party's original coalition, which included pious Muslims of all stripes, Kurds, secular liberals, and the business elite. These hopes aren't entirely fanciful, but they are far too optimistic. In fact, they have fundamentally missed Gul's broader reading of Turkish politics.

Gul has carefully cultivated his reputation as a moral voice in Turkey's transition to democracy, and in recent months he has not shied from expressing his displeasure with Erdogan's style of leadership. In response to the government’s ban on Twitter after Erdogan vowed to “eradicate” the service, Gul tweeted, “The wholesale shuttering of social media platforms cannot be approved. I hope this practice will not last long.” Months earlier, at the opening session of the Grand National Assembly, Gul distanced himself from the prime minister's increasing authoritarianism, declaring, “I have always acted with the awareness that democracy requires tolerance, patience, perseverance and sacrifice. I was also mindful of the fact that democracy is a system of checks and balances.” And in responding to last spring's Gezi Park protests, Gul’s diplomatic manner and vocal support for peaceful dialogue with protesters contrasted starkly with Erdogan’s thuggish defiance.

All of this is consistent with Gul's demeanor in meetings with journalists and private interlocutors, where he has offered implicit but unmistakable critiques of the prime minister. He has also hinted that he might return to politics sometime in the future, raising speculation that he would challenge Erdogan. The fact that the president has not been caught up in the ongoing corruption scandal that has enveloped Erdogan and the AKP since last December has only intensified speculation about Gul’s political plans.

But for all of his appealing attributes, Gul has consistently stopped short of taking action. Rather than use the powers of his office to thwart Erdogan’s worst instincts, Gul has done the opposite. Since last June, he has signed into law a slew of restrictive measures supported by Erdogan and passed by the AKP-dominated Grand National Assembly. These new laws range from restricting the Internet to making administering first aid a criminal offense under certain circumstances, to prevent good Samaritans from giving aid to protesters. Gul has also signed into law a measure that strips the independent Supreme Council of Judges and Public Prosecutors of its power to make any judicial appointments and transferred that authority to political appointees at the Ministry of Justice.

Gul's aides have tried to paint his actions as attempts to make the best of a bad situation. For example, Gul approved the Internet access bill but included the proviso that the parts of the legislation that most egregiously violated international norms be revised. Yet Gul's more idealistic supporters were stunned that he would give his assent at all. They couldn't understand how the man whom they believed clearly disapproved of Erdogan's authoritarianism had been so willing to act as his accomplice.

But Gul's behavior should not come as such a surprise. It is the product of his understanding of Turkey's present political situation and his own broader political goals. The fact that Gul has failed to challenge Erdogan doesn't mean there aren't differences between the two men. There is no reason to doubt that Gul is sincere when he expresses democratic ideals. But for the present moment, at least, Gul believes that it is necessary to subordinate his ideals for the sake of maintaining the stability and strength of the AKP.

As Turkey's president, Gul is legally not permitted to have a political affiliation, and he has done his best to stay above day-to-day politics. But his past as a political operator can’t be denied. Gul -- along with Erdogan and a number of others -- is a founder of the AKP. As they built the party in 2001 and 2002 they looked to dysfunctional coalition governments of the 1990s, which were composed of various small parties with limited appeal, as a cautionary example. They observed how personal rivalries pushed the previously venerable Motherland and True Path parties into oblivion. Gul and his partners wanted their AKP to rise above all that and to be able to capture a broad share of the public. Just 14 months after founding the AKP, the new party garnered 36 percent of the vote in national elections. The rest is history.

Whatever his other political beliefs, Gul believes that the AKP remains the only vehicle for Turkey’s transformation (and for his own personal ambition). In that sense, anything that Gul does to fracture the AKP would be devastating to his own lifelong political project. Even if he knows that the AKP has lapsed from its reformist origins, Gul likely believes that its disintegration would be worse, since it would return Turkey to the destabilized politics of the recent past.

And Gul would not be wrong to think so. If he directly challenged Erdogan, he would surely receive praise from Turkey watchers in Europe and the United States. But that would hardly compensate for the bruising political battle he would have initiated with Erdogan. For all of the discussions about fissures developing within the party since the Gezi Park protests and a few resignations after the corruption scandal broke, the AKP has remained remarkably cohesive and loyal to Erdogan. Most of the party’s parliamentarians owe their position to the patronage of the prime minister, and Erdogan remains wildly popular among the AKP supporters in the public. Gul has loyalists of his own in the party, of course, but the apolitical nature of the presidency has constrained him from broadening his base within the AKP.

And Gul has surely noticed, during this extended season of Turkish political tumult, that Erdogan has proved to be a fearless combatant. The Gulenists within the police, judiciary, and state prosecutors’ office have thrown virtually everything at him, and the prime minister has only responded in kind. Erdogan’s call for a ban on Twitter and YouTube reflects his willingness to do Turkey harm in pursuit of trying to save himself.

Erdogan's evident lack of judiciousness is the reason that outsiders believe Gul should assert himself; from Gul's perspective, it also the reason he should refrain from doing so. A civil war between pro-Erdogan and pro-Gul factions of the AKP would only serve to benefit their common political enemies, the Kemalists. When Kemalism was the dominant ideology in Turkey, pious Turks like Gul and Erdogan were subjected to routine repression. The rise of the AKP has mostly reduced Kemalism to a hollow ideology, something to which many Turks only pay lip service as they go about their business. But Kemalist forces still exist in Turkey throughout the judiciary, the bureaucracy, academia, big business, and the military. To the extent that a fight with Erdogan would provide an opportunity for Kemalists to return to the fore of national politics, Gul will avoid taking on his old ally.

The president is likely better off avoiding a direct confrontation with Erdogan, signaling his disapproval for the prime minister’s excesses, and hoping that the electoral process provides an opportunity for Turks to alter their country’s current nondemocratic trajectory. The key word is “hope.” Although Erdogan has given up the idea of becoming president under a new constitution that would have granted the presidency broader and more direct political powers, AKP lieutenants have openly floated the idea of changing party bylaws to allow him to serve additional terms in his current office. If that happens, which seems likely, Gul will remain under Erdogan’s shadow. Perhaps Gul is planning to bide his time until Erdogan thoroughly discredits himself with his supporters. But, in that case, he may be waiting a long time. All of Erdogan’s excessive actions to date -- banning Twitter and YouTube, attacking civil society organizations, intimidating the press, and making accusations about foreign plots aimed at bringing Turkey to its knees -- have played well with his constituency.

It is hard not to sympathize with Gul. He is the voice of reason -- or at least portrays himself that way -- in a political environment where so many seem to have taken leave of their senses. But he also believes he has no good options available to him. By wading into the AKP morass, he thinks he would ultimately only be doing damage to himself, his party, and Turkey as a whole. Those who are desperately waiting for Gul to make a move will most likely remain disappointed. He will remain outside the battle -- torn between his political ideals and his calculations of political interest.

[Foregin Affairs Website 2014/3/27]

[Foreign Affairs] Islamist Outlaws

Saudi Arabia Takes on the Muslim Brotherhood

By William McCants

On March 7, Saudi Arabia took the extraordinary step of declaring the Muslim Brotherhood a terrorist organization, on par with Hezbollah and al Qaeda. The move came just two days after the kingdom, together with the United Arab Emirates and Bahrain, withdrew its ambassador from Qatar because of Qatar’s alleged support of Brotherhood interference in internal politics. Although Saudi Arabia’s dislike of Brotherhood political activities abroad is well known, for decades the kingdom has tolerated (and sometimes even worked with) the local Saudi branch of the Brotherhood. Its sudden reversal is an expression of solidarity with its politically vulnerable allies in the region and a warning to Sunni Islamists within its borders to tread carefully.

This story goes back to the Arab Spring, when Egyptian President Hosni Mubarak, Saudi Arabia’s longtime ally, was ousted, and Egypt elected Mohamed Morsi, a Muslim Brotherhood­–linked politician, to fill his shoes. Riyadh feared that the group, now empowered, would try to export the Egyptian revolution regionwide, calling for action against the House of Saud and displacing Saudi’s friends and allies such as the UAE. Those fears were not entirely unfounded.

In Saudi Arabia, members of the Muslim Brotherhood had been at the forefront of the Awakening movement, a push in the early 1990s for political change in response to alleged Saudi government corruption and the basing of U.S. troops in the country. But, as the political science professor Stéphane Lacroix documents in his book Awakening Islam, most members of the Saudi Muslim Brotherhood had quickly fallen into line once the regime began to arrest or sanction its leaders. The Saudi Brotherhood simply had too much to lose: its members helped build the Saudi state and occupied important positions in the religious and educational establishment.

That détente ended with the Arab Spring, when a number of prominent Islamists added their names to a 2011 petition calling for political reforms in the kingdom. They also obliquely criticized the lack of political freedom in Saudi Arabia by lavishing praise on fellow travelers in Tunisia and Egypt. Even Nasir al-Umar, a hard-line Sururi (a blend of Brotherhood and ultraconservative Salafism), was singing the praises of democratic change. Then Crown Prince Nayef and future Crown Prince Salman pressed them into silence. According to one person I spoke to on a recent trip to Saudi Arabia, some were forced to sign a pledge to cease criticizing the lack of political freedom in the kingdom. But the renewed détente was fragile, hinging on events in tumultuous Egypt.

There was some reason for Saudi Arabia to fear for its allies in the region as well. Under Mubarak, Egypt had been a dependable Saudi ally. But Morsi sought to chart a neutral course between Saudi Arabia and Iran, following an early fundraising visit to the kingdom with an attempted rapprochement with Iran. The United Arab Emirates was worried, too. The Brotherhood has had a small presence in UAE since the 1960s, but after 9/11 the government started to see the group as a national security threat. It didn’t help that when the Muslim Brotherhood came to power in Egypt some members of the UAE branch began agitating for political reforms, going so far as to sign a petition calling for elections and real authority for the UAE’s advisory council. The government responded by arresting group members across the country, including men belonging to an alleged terror cell with ties to the Muslim Brotherhood in Egypt.

In response to what they saw as Egyptian meddling, Saudi Arabia tried to economically isolate Morsi and hasten his departure. In May 2013, just two months before the military overthrow of Morsi, the Egyptian finance minister complained to the Saudis that Egypt had only received $1 billion of the $3.5 billion in aid promised after Mubarak’s downfall. When the Egyptian military overthrew Morsi just a year into his rule, Saudi Arabia applauded and quickly promised Egypt a new aid package of $5 billion, together with one from the UAE for $3 billion and from Kuwait for $4 billion. When the new regime massacred Brotherhood protestors in August, the taciturn King Abdullah uncharacteristically voiced his public support for the slaughter as a blow against terrorism. When the new Egyptian government declared the group a terrorist organization in late December 2013, Saudi Arabia followed suit. When UAE decided not to replace its departing ambassador in Qatar -- partly to punish Qatar for its refusal to discipline an influential Qatar-based Brotherhood spiritual leader who preached that the UAE is against Islamic rule -- Saudi Arabia recalled its own ambassador in solidarity.

Saudi Arabia’s moves have provoked some unhappiness at home. Saudi Islamists, particularly the Brothers, are convinced that Morsi’s overthrow was part of a Saudi plot to roll back Islamist political gains of the past three years. In defiance, they festooned their social media profiles with symbols of Brotherhood resistance and criticized their government for its complicity. The defiance has become more muted recently, after the local press reported that the government was contemplating declaring the Brotherhood a terrorist organization. According to former members of the Saudi Muslim Brotherhood I spoke with, the 25,000 or so members of the Brotherhood in Saudi Arabia reacted to the news of the deliberations by preemptively keeping a low profile, closing some of its gatherings so as not to further stoke the government’s ire. Until the Saudi government actually begins making arrests, its recent announcement is more of a shot across the Brotherhood’s bow than an attempt to sink the ship.

Nevertheless, person after person I interviewed asserted that the level of Islamist anger toward the Saudi government is higher than at any time since the early 1990s. That does not mean Brotherhood leaders will move against the regime in the near term. In the 1990s as now, they have too much to lose institutionally. There is also some benefit in a wait-and-see approach, which is why Salman al-Awda, a prominent Saudi Islamist, is privately counselling his followers to wait for the regime’s factions to sort things out among themselves. But the younger rank-and-file Brothers in Saudi, like those in other Brotherhood franchises outside Egypt, are starting to lose hope in peaceful political change. That frustration can lead to apathy. But it can also lead to violence -- and if it does, the Saudi government’s decision to declare the group a terrorist organization will have been a self-fulfilling prophecy.

[Foregin Affairs Website 2014/3/17]

[Foreign Affairs] Break Up in the Gulf

What the GCC Dispute Means for Qatar

By Bilal Y. Saab

On March 5, Saudi Arabia, the United Arab Emirates (UAE), and Bahrain announced that they had withdrawn their ambassadors from Qatar, claiming that Doha had been violating a clause in the Gulf Cooperation Council charter banning interference in the domestic affairs of fellow GCC members. The decision, unprecedented in the GCC’s history, hints at significant changes to come for the GCC and the balance of power in the Gulf.

The dispute between GCC members had been simmering for a while, and it was only a matter of time before it boiled over. In December, during a GCC Summit in Kuwait, Riyadh and Abu Dhabi had been close to singling out Qatar for its alleged financing of terrorism in Syria and elsewhere. But, at the last minute, the Saudis pulled the plug to avoid embarrassing their Kuwaiti hosts. They opted instead to give Doha a stern private warning. A couple of weeks before that, Saudi leaders scolded new Qatari Emir Sheikh Tamim during a meeting in Riyadh that was arranged by Kuwaiti leader Sheikh Sabah Al Ahmad. The 33-year-old Tamim was asked to make serious adjustments to his country's foreign policy, including that the country stop allegedly funding al Qaeda­–affiliated groups in Syria. The young Tamim reportedly agreed, but requested some time to make the necessary changes.

Tamim eventually managed to reduce Doha's involvement in the Syrian conflict. But, realizing that it had lost in Syria, Doha doubled down on outreach to the Muslim Brotherhood and its offshoots in the region, including Hamas. In addition, it continued efforts to cozy up to Iran and Turkey, support the Al Houthi rebels in Yemen, and test the waters with Hezbollah. In doing so, Doha was touching every nerve and ringing every alarm bell in Abu Dhabi and Riyadh, where officials were doing all they could to finish off the Muslim Brotherhood (including labeling it as terrorist group and propping up Egypt's military chief, Field Marshal Abdel Fattah al-Sisi, by paving the way for his presidency).

No wonder, then, that the Bahrainis, Emiratis, and Saudis soon accused Qatar of trying to undermine the GCC and recalled their ambassadors. But where does this leave Qatar? Tamim has two options, neither of which is good. He can either fully comply with the wishes of Saudi Arabia and the UAE -- which would cost him his relationship with Qatar’s old guard, including his father -- or consolidate his role by working with his father's allies and freeing his country once and for all from the shackles of Saudi influence and an increasingly irrelevant GCC.

Tamim might not survive the first scenario, given how difficult it would be to confront not only his family but also the enormously influential ex-prime minister and foreign minister Hamad Bin Jassim Al Thani. But the second option wouldn’t be easy, either. In that scenario, Qatar would more forcefully ally itself with Iran, with which it already has strong economic ties. It would also get politically and economically closer to Oman, which already has friendly relations with Tehran. But that wouldn’t come without costs either. The Sultanate is essentially in the GCC doghouse for refusing to adopt the group’s standard line against Iran. Should Qatar join that club, it will be hard for it to ever reverse course with the GCC.

Should Qatar become friendlier with Iran and Oman, it would signal the death of the GCC and herald a new power alignment in the Gulf. It would also severely complicate U.S. plans in the Middle East. For some time, the United States has encouraged the Arab Gulf States to think and act more collectively to enhance Gulf security. But with increasing tensions among GCC members, including possible divorces, this goal seems increasingly unrealistic. Washington may come to see that its Gulf allies will not be able to provide regional security anytime soon and, as a result, think twice about plans to reduce the U.S. political and military footprint there.

Qatar's spat with its Saudi and Emirati neighbors also creates another policy dilemma for the United States. Washington has strategic relations with all three states, which will become difficult to manage if they aren’t on speaking terms. It is possible that Riyadh and Abu Dhabi could even lobby the United States to help shut down money flows out of Doha under the guise of counterterrorism. But Washington might not be receptive. Qatar hosts the Al Udeid Air Base and the Combined Air and Space Operations Center, which coordinated all of the U.S. attack and surveillance missions for the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. In other words, although the U.S. Treasury Department and State Department may show readiness to entertain Saudi and Emirati punitive measures against Doha, the Pentagon will probably put the brakes on any such plans.

In the coming days, the departure of the Saudi, Emirati, and Bahraini ambassadors from Qatar will likely trigger rushed consultations among the Arab Gulf States. And these will probably lead to some sort of political settlement to defuse the crisis. But make no mistake about it, this is a new political era in the Arab Gulf, one in which individual states are charting their own courses and where the idea of unity, no matter how hard Saudi Arabia pushes for it, is rapidly fading.

[Foregin Affairs Website 2014/3/6]

[Foreign Affairs] The Muslim Martin Luther?

Fethullah Gulen Attempts an Islamic Reformation

By Victor Gaetan

In a video posted on his Web site last December, the Turkish Islamic scholar Fethullah Gulen called on God to curse Turkish Prime Minister Recep Tayyip Erdogan. Gulen, who has lived in exile in the United States since 1999, declared in a sermon broadcast on Turkish television, “Those who don’t see the thief but go after those trying to catch the thief: may God bring fire to their houses, ruin their homes, break their unities.” This went far beyond the normally secular bounds of political debate in Turkey.

But to fixate on Gulen's lack of political polish is to miss the point. Gulen and Erdogan have been described in the West as political rivals, but there has always been more at stake in their clash than earthly affairs. Whereas Erdogan may frequently indulge in Islamist political rhetoric, it is Gulen that has tried to make actual contributions as an Islamic intellectual and develop a genuinely modern school of Islam that reconciles the religion with liberal democracy, scientific rationalism, ecumenism, and free enterprise. Regardless of who wins the battle for Turkey's political future, it is vital that Gulen's religious legacy be preserved.

EGALITARIAN ENLIGHTENMENT

Erdogan has repeatedly portrayed Gulen, and his religious movement, known as Hizmet (which translates to Service), as part of a political conspiracy, calling it a “parallel state” responsible for initiating a series of corruption investigations against his administration. These accusations are impossible to substantiate. Hizmet has no formal membership, no headquarters, and no hierarchy, which makes it impossible to know whether Gulenists are overrepresented in law enforcement and the judiciary, let alone orchestrating a putsch. There are many civic organizations in Turkey that are explicitly linked to Gulen, but, in keeping with Gulen’s teachings, they neither endorse nor reject any political party.

Gulen's theology went hand-in-hand with Turkey's capitalist revolution. The country's new entrepreneurs were pious Muslims who drew on Gulen's teaching to justify their embrace of free enterprise, strong democratic institutions, and dialogue and commerce with other faiths.
Although Gulen has always assumed that pious Muslims would be drawn to politics, he has long warned against allowing religion to be used as a tool to pursue political power. In this sense, Gulen has followed in the footsteps of Said Nursi, a great Turkish scholar of Sufism, who inspired an Islamic revival in the late Ottoman period and under Ataturk’s republic. Nursi's 6,000-page commentary on the Koran, Risale-i Nur (Epistles of Light), argued that true spiritual knowledge was accessible to all Muslims without the guidance of a “master.” Nursi considered materialism an enemy of Islam, but he also advocated modern science instruction in Muslim schools.

Gulen has endorsed this same basic approach. Born in eastern Turkey in 1941, he grew up studying the Koran. He began to manage a mosque as well as a study center in the city of Izmir in the 1960s. Pushing beyond Nursi's concept of strengthening religious conscience, or inner discipline, Gulen emphasized the importance of public service as a way for believers to glorify God while repressing selfish impulses.

These teachings were in sharp contrast to the political pronouncements of Islamist groups, like the Muslim Brotherhood, that gained ground in the Middle East in the mid-twentieth century. Where the Brotherhood considered it a religious obligation to control the state and to make Islamic law the basis of jurisprudence, Gulen argued that religion suffered from politicization. Where the Brotherhood implies that jihad is necessarily an armed struggle, Gulen emphasized that jihad is a moral and spiritual struggle.

In 1970, Gulen was arrested by a newly installed military government, and his license to preach was revoked. But his private talks to small groups -- in mosques, theatres, coffee shops, and schools -- were taped and distributed. Gulen leveraged his growing fame to establish a series of student hostels, or “lighthouses,” that offered private prep courses for university entrance exams. In 1979, personal friends of Gulen set up a publishing business so that he could provide his growing number of students with study materials. Yamanlar College in Izmir, the first Gulen-inspired private high school, followed in 1982. By 1983, he had a wide national following.

Today, Gulen sympathizers run more than 1,500 schools and universities in 120 countries, including Afghanistan, Austria, Bosnia, Indonesia, Japan, Mexico, Sudan, and the United States. (In Texas alone, Gulen affiliates manage 26 public charter schools.) The Gulen movement provides countless scholarships for the poor to attend their schools, which mostly emphasize science and math. By contributing as volunteers, or financiers, to the movement's education network, supporters also engage in a form of sanctified charity.

His commitment to education as the main solution to problems plaguing most Muslim societies is the most concrete expression of Gulen's religious teachings. Drawing on Islam's sacred texts -- the Koran, hadith (words of the Prophet), and Sira (biography of the Prophet) -- as well as Turkish and Ottoman cultural tradition, Gulen has developed a distinct form of Islamic theology that puts social engagement, not political engagement, at its center.

The Utah-based political scientist Hakan Yavuz, author of Toward an Islamic Enlightenment: The Gulen Movement, sees four defining characteristics in Gulen’s project. First, Gulen emphasizes that a believer's piety can be measured by his practical actions, specifically, the degree to which the person improves the human condition. Second, Gulen argues that Islam must be an ecumenical religion. Muslims, he believes, are obliged to seek consensus in their communities and should value social participation and dialogue with other groups. (Gulen's movement has placed a particular emphasis on interfaith dialogue, especially with Christians and Jews.)

Third, Gulen teaches the inviolability of individual rights. Religious engagement, he maintains, must be voluntary, which is one reason that Gulen's followers are usually referred to as “volunteers” and their total numbers are never officially counted. Finally, the Gulen movement endorses critical thinking as a foundation for knowledge that glorifies God, rather than as something that contradicts revelation. Science, Gulen teaches, is a vehicle for Muslims to honor their religious duty to improve the economic condition of their societies.

To the extent that Gulen has had anything to say about politics, it has almost always been in the service of promoting democracy and cultural tolerance. Asked by The New York Times about his attitude toward the Turkish government, Gulen responded, “I always believe in being on the side of the rule of law, and I also believe in the importance of sharing good ideas with the officials of the state that are going to promise a future for the country. Accordingly, irrespective of whoever is in charge, I try to be respectful of those state officials, keep a reasonable level of closeness and keep a positive attitude toward them.” He has also emphasized the importance of maintaining a healthy civil society outside the control of the state. Private schools, private enterprise, volunteerism -- these were the institutions that Turkey required if it hoped to maintain its traditionally inclusive culture.

Gulen's theology went hand-in-hand with Turkey's capitalist revolution, which was sparked by economic deregulation in the 1980s. The country's new entrepreneurs were pious Muslims who drew on Gulen's teaching to justify their embrace of free enterprise, strong democratic institutions, and dialogue and commerce with other faiths and ethnic groups. Gulen, in turn, urged this new capitalist class to work hard and succeed -- not for personal gain but to enhance the spiritual well-being of society. The prophet Muhammad was also a merchant, he reminded them.

Gulen has shown that he will refuse to be intimidated, but it is still an open question whether his movement can withstand the AKP’s relentless campaign against it.
MARRIAGE OF CONVENIENCE

It should come as no surprise that the Gulen movement saw a potential ally in Erdogan's AKP party. In 2002, under the AKP flag, Erdogan spoke out in favor of greater religious and economic freedoms. Like the AKP, the Gulenist movement had identified the military and the old secular economic elite as impediments to those freedoms. Although the Gulenists never offered an explicit endorsement, it seemed keen to work with the AKP. After Erdogan won, the AKP (as well as Justice Department officials said to be affiliated with the Gulenists) supported a series of court cases that landed hundreds of military officers and businessmen in jail. (Although there were many flaws in the trials’ methods, blame falls mainly on the shoulders of the AKP, which had sole authority to direct the proceedings.)

But the alliance did not last. The AKP and the Gulenists have fundamentally different understandings of Turkish identity and how it relates to Islam. The AKP has its roots in Turkey's National View ideology, which was originally advanced by former Turkish Prime Minister Necmettin Erbakan in his manifesto Millî Görüş (National View), published in 1969. Erbakan argued that Turkey should turn away from the West and forge a political, economic, and military union with Muslim countries. According to this view, national strength, especially as expressed in conflict with the West, is a bigger priority than healthy democratic institutions. Erbakan is still a clear source of inspiration for the AKP in general, and for Erdogan in particular. When Erbakan died, in 2011, Erdogan cut short a trip to Europe in order to rush back for his funeral, attended by hundreds of thousands in Istanbul. Germany’s most influential Turkish Islamist organization is a Millî Görüş community that Erdogan has encouraged to resist Western assimilation, in accordance with Erbakan’s teachings.

Predictably, Hizmet and the AKP have clashed over Erdogan's bellicose foreign policy and undemocratic domestic maneuvers. When a Turkish NGO attempted to break Israel's blockade of Gaza and was confronted by the Israeli navy (resulting in nine deaths), Erdogan responded by accusing Israel of terrorism and genocide. Gulen responded to Erdogan's belligerence, by calling it not “fruitful,” and adding that he sought Israeli permission anytime his charities wanted to help the people of Gaza.

Another point of contention has been Turkey's relationship with the European Union. As a strong proponent of closer ties with Europe, the Gulenist movement has been frustrated by Erdogan's refusal to pursue more serious accession talks with the EU. Occasionally, Erdogan has pursued policies -- such as legislation restricting Internet access and reducing the independence of prosecutors -- that seem designed to antagonize EU officials. Gulenists have also been concerned by Erdogan's support for Egypt's Muslim Brotherhood.

Free speech has always been a critical issue for the Gulenist movement, so it has also spoken out against Erdogan's persecution of journalists and his broader disdain for democratic dialogue. According to the Committee to Protect Journalists, Turkey has incarcerated more journalists over the past two years than any other country in the world. (Close on Turkey's heels: Iran and China.) Gulen sympathizer Alp Aslandogan, president of the New York–based Alliance for Shared Values, a nonprofit umbrella group for Hizmet-affiliated groups, recounted the “intimidation, inspections, and fines” that now confront publishers. “Media group owners face threats to their businesses. Never in Turkish history has a single person or party achieved this level of media subservience.”

Erdogan's response to last summer's Gezi Park protests must have been particularly troubing for the Gulenists. In some sense, the diverse group of protesters, who originally gathered to demonstrate against the demolition of an Istanbul park, were the model of the sort of engaged pluralistic civil society that the Gulenists champion. Erdogan decided to order police to disperse the protests with force, which resulted in days of violent confrontation. Gulen placed the blame on Erdogan for not listening to the protesters' demands in the first place. That seems to have convinced Erdogan to declare war directly on the Gulenist movement. In September, Erdogan announced that the government planned to close all private schools helping students to prepare for university exams: the Gulenist movement runs about 20 percent of such schools in Turkey and they represent a vital source of income, as well as one of the main ways in which Gulen's ideas are introduced to the public.

Erdogan and the AKP have taken to describing Gulen’s movement as a power-hungry conspiracy. But there is little evidence of a concerted Gulenist push for power. The movement has stayed true to its teachings by devoting massive resources and attention to running schools, charity organizations, and media entities, in Turkey and abroad. Gulenists have not made a concerted push to infiltrate the AKP, or to seat their own members in parliament. Gulenists have regularly denounced the AKP’s corruption as a violation of Islamic ethics and Hizmet principles. There is no reason not to take those criticisms at face value.

Gulen has shown that he will refuse to be intimidated, but it is still an open question whether his movement can withstand the AKP’s relentless campaign against it. Erdogan is clearly intent on marginalizing the Gulenist movement, even at the expense of the rule of law in Turkey. This week, President Abdullah Gul signed a law allowing government agencies, without a court order, to block access to any Web site. Last week, parliament passed a bill giving the executive branch complete control over the judiciary, allowing the government to nominate and fire prosecutors at will.

Turkey would clearly be harmed if Gulenist teachings on tolerance and individual rights were successfully quieted. But the loss for Islamic culture would be an even greater tragedy.

[Foregin Affairs Website 2014/2/20]

明報專訪日本「中國通」天兒慧教授

《天兒慧訪問全文》

【明報專訊】問：不少輿論稱，現在中日關係是中日建交40年來最差的。在日本，對華友好的人士似乎也遭攻擊。我們觀察到，一些日本網民便把天兒先生標籤為「反日」。就天兒先生觀察所得，跟中日友好的1980年代相比，日本社會近年對中國的態度有何轉變？原因是什麼？這轉變會如何左右中日關係？

答：我的立場主要有以下兩點。第一，我既非「反日親中」，亦非「反中親日」。我一直努力不偏向任何一方，以社會科學學者的身分盡可能客觀冷靜地把握事實，加以分析，提出建議，可說是「實事求是派」。因此我不時對日本當局提出逆耳的批評，亦不時對中國當局提出逆耳的批評。第二，我深信日中關係不論在歷史及地緣上或是利益層面上看，都是有如兄弟一般，建立緊密合作、互惠互利的關係才是最重要的；持續對立，甚至陷入戰爭狀態則絕對必須避免，若變成這樣的狀態將是雙方的不幸。

當然，由於我身為日本人，較了解日本的事情，至今對日本有較強烈的立場，所以曾對日本作出許多建議，例如在靖國參拜、歷史認識、歷史教科書記述等問題上，整體而言我一直以批判的態度面對迄今的日本政權。過去我的這類主張為相當多日本知識分子的共通看法，而「日中友好」、「積極協助中國走向現代化」等亦為大部分國民的共同意願。

我的立場始終如一，沒有改變，只是日中關係周邊的狀改變了，那就是中國的經濟與軍事抬頭，以及日本「泡沫經濟崩潰」後長期陷入低迷徬徨的狀。中國經濟崛起對日本而言可大大增加商機，對此日本是歡迎多於抗拒的。不過，在中國聲言要「和平崛起」而周邊地區對中國發動軍事攻擊的可能性極微之際，中國卻自1990年以來每年以兩位數字的幅度持續增加軍費，此外還強行進行核試（1994及1995年）、開發導彈及軍事衛星、建造航空母艦等具攻擊力及威嚇性的武器，演變成恍如對別國施加威脅感的局面。

與此同時，中國國內的大國主義式民族主義感情高漲。相對之下，日本被指「迷失20年」，為此日本對自身出現某種焦慮感、對中國的警戒以及對中國的威脅感亦開始抬頭，日本國內抗拒國際主義的內向民族主義開始膨脹。小泉純一郎首相參拜靖國、象徵日中合作的「東亞共同體」成立受挫（2005年）、日本對中國提供的政府開發援助（ODA）結束等事件，令兩國政府關係徐徐冷卻，日中作為合作伙伴國家的感情亦急速惡化。

日中關係陷入惡性循環，其中直接引發的最大問題就是尖閣諸島（釣魚島）問題。2010年9月的「中國漁船衝突事件」、2012年9月的「尖閣國有化」等各項事件發生後，中國國內隨即出現猛烈的反日攻擊，各地出現騷亂。那正是中國燃起反日民族主義，當局改為展現出對日的強硬姿態。無可否認，中國放棄了「韜光養晦」的方針，由「核心利益」的主張向「海洋強國」的目標推進，改向積極外交，日本的警戒感、威脅感升級，對華感情亦惡化，反華民族主義亦正增加。

日本國內就中日關係冷靜討論的氣氛大幅消退，在此情下，我的理性言論相信會被鷹派或是對華警戒論者視為「親中反日」吧。可是，長遠而言，我認為我的主張必定站得住腳。日本自從1980年代因經濟成長變得強大，加上有補償過去歷史的意願，政府開始了ODA援助，認真手為中國的經濟發展作計劃、提供技術支援、廢棄處理化學武器等，在民間亦透過綠化沙漠行動、支援貧困農村的各種形式，支援中國的發展。我希望如今變得強大的中國，不要煽動「過去戰爭中糾結的問題」和「反日民族主義」，而將兩國外交正常化以來日本對中國的貢獻作出坦誠的評價，如此日本人的反華情緒相信會大大緩和。

問：天兒先生2010年就釣魚島主權問題提出「共同主權」構思，但隨日本政府2012年「購島」，你認為該構思還有可能嗎？釣魚島主權爭議還有什麼出路？

答：我2010年在《朝日新聞》中主張的「共同主權論」，其實是1990年代後半曾於日本地方報章中提出的論說，當時考慮到「尖閣問題」將來必定會成為日中的待決事項，我將之作為處理這問題的「理想形式」。日本國內對此譽參半，有政府人士作出批評，亦有鷹派將我誹謗成「賣國賊」。不過，關於尖閣主權的問題，「釣魚島原是中國的固有領土，於日清戰爭時期遭日本掠奪」這種主張冷靜地看是不合理的。以下這些是客觀存在的事實：

1.當時中國的天下國家論中並沒有海洋國境的觀念；

2.中國雖有考慮到沿海防衛問題，但據記載，明清時期由福州府管轄的沿海防衛涵蓋離岸約100公里範圍（海岸距尖閣諸島約310公里）；

3.琉球冊封使紀錄中記載，當時琉球人的領土為琉球本島至久米島，並細緻載明不包括尖閣，但那是他們的「鄉土觀」，並不是國境意味的領土，即使記載證實為事實，但仍無法用以證明尖閣是中國的領土；

4.中國若真的認為釣魚島是本國領土，那為何在發出「日本領有宣言」以來，截至1971年為止從來沒有提出有關主張？（不過在那期間，《人民日報》等傳媒則反複出現承認尖閣為日本領土的記述）

因此，我在以「日本領土論」為前提下，為了東亞海域成為和平的海域，日中建立共存共榮的牽絆，提出「共同主權論」。如今為了將想法更具體化，我提倡了「一個島嶼、各自表述」的方案。簡言之，就是同時承認「尖閣諸島為日本領土」及「釣魚島為中國領土」，實際管理、營運透過協商決定的方案。這個方案參考了「一個中國、各自表述」的「中台共識」而構想。當然有觀點認為主權是排他性的概念，不能接受共存、共有之類的想法，不過歷史中可見國家的生成、發展、消滅，而主權的涵蓋範圍亦是可變的。再者，海洋本來沒有邊界，漁民一直在海洋自由地捕魚，互相合作。

「一個島嶼、各自表述」的精神，在21世紀以來的歷史中可作為避免國家衝突的智慧，以緩和主權概念，接受雙方主張的同時就具體課題進行協議，處理事件，慎重對待和平關係。這種精神在現今的日本中被接受的空間亦微乎其微，那是因為「中國不可信，要是退讓一步，對方便會要求退讓兩步甚至三步」這種對中國的強烈不信任感正在蔓延。

首先，有必要努力緩和日中之間的不滿感情及不信任感。為此最重要的是希望兩國政府作出保證，讓日本與中國的有識之士，或者包括第三國的有識之士，就這些問題擁有坦誠自由討論的空間。特別是現時中國國內有難以自由發言的嚴峻狀。知識分子自由討論，將之公開發表，可加深真正的互相理解，減少因存有偏見的資訊產生的不信任感。

另一重要的事情是，記取及重新確認日中外交正常化之際，中國總理周恩來所說的「求大同，存小異」論。「尖閣問題」原是小異，如今這個問題雖變成了「大異」，但必須重新認識在這個問題上糾纏的愚蠢與危險性，尋求達成「日中共存共榮」的大同。當再次產生一起探索共存共榮之道的氣氛時，相信可以帶出我的提案或是其他的想法吧。雖然需要時間，但持續不斷的努力才是恢復關係、發展的王道。

問：今年是中日甲午戰爭120周年，又是第一次世界大戰百周年，中國以至西方都有輿論推測中日在不久將來必有一戰。你認為中日有可能爆發戰爭嗎？

答﹕我可以斷言，日本發動戰爭幾乎100%不可能。第二次世界大戰後，日本切身體會戰敗及遭受原子彈轟炸的悲劇（當然亦包括作為加害者的悲劇），也充分了解和平的貴重，走過了自己的道路。這種感受到現在仍為許多日本人所共有。近幾年，中國國內有聲音說「日本的軍國主義復活、日本已變成軍國主義國家了」，但那是很大的誤解。當然，現今日本由於對中國不信任及感到受威脅，正在推動強化國防能力，這事無可否認，不過儘管那是具有攻擊性的力量，但日本並沒有侵略的意圖。

對於爆發戰爭的可能性，我所擔心的是：一、因釣魚島近海及上空意外發生「衡突事件」，引發戰鬥行為；二、中國國內因反日民族主義等理由展開「奪回釣魚島行動」。這些情絕對要避免。就第一點而言，兩國的相關部門需要設立危機管理對話機制。至於第二點，雖然在某程度上我能夠理解中國對於安倍政權言行的不滿，但安倍亦絕對希望避免與中國開戰，並就此認真考慮。日本國民普遍的反戰情感更是強烈，希望中國國民能理解。

包括香港在內的中國輿論正熱烈討論「戰爭的可能性」，這事情本身在日本人眼中無法理解，甚至覺得恐怖。一旦發生戰爭，日中之間將留下無法彌補的禍根。戰爭絕對必須避免。

問：日本首相安倍晉三去年底參拜靖國神社，激起中國強烈反彈，認為日本美化侵略歷史，甚至認為是軍國主義復辟等。歷史問題經常籠罩中日關係，你認為中日雙方應如何走出這困局？

答：對於「過去的戰爭」的認識，安倍等人的歷史觀確實與我的歷史觀有差異。日本接受《波茨坦宣言》、誓言恆久和平、實踐和平憲法，以作為戰後日本和平與發展的出發點，這是大部分日本人的共識。因此，「日本正破壞戰後秩序」的看法亦完全是大大的誤解。我敢斷言，即使是安倍，亦完全沒有絲毫「破壞戰後秩序」的想法。安倍言論的真正意思，是「無法認同戰時日本被視為如同納粹般100%邪惡」，並非全面肯定日本的戰爭。

至於參拜靖國問題，日本人的心情有複雜之處。靖國神社本是明治維新時期起用來供奉為日本捐軀的戰歿者之所，最初並無政治意味，許多日本人至今仍認為參拜靖國的主要意義是追悼戰亡者。但1978年靖國神社秘密將在東京審判中裁定為甲級戰犯的人員亦引入，共同供奉，至此參拜靖國便添加了另一重意義。追悼亡者的國民感情不容否定，而參拜靖國者亦並非全是為了崇拜甲級戰犯，在此外界無法理解日本人的某些心情。

雖然靖國問題有相當棘手之處，但必須繼續為解決問題努力。1978年以來，昭和天皇（裕仁）不再參拜靖國，平成天皇（明仁）亦繼承了其精神，這本身在日本而言有異常之處。我認為解決「參拜靖國問題」的最恰當辦法是「分祀」。當然靖國神社可能以「宗教自由」、「合祭的亡魂無法分開」等理由反對，要說服神社並不容易。可是這個問題如今不為亞洲人民接受，甚至被世界視為問題，除了應重新明確地表達國家對於戰爭責任的態度外，日本國民也許亦應該研究解決問題之道。

[明報 2014-2-6] 

[Foreign Affairs] Six Markets to Watch: Turkey

How Erdogan Did It -- and Could Blow It

By Daniel Dombey

JANUARY/FEBRUARY 2014 ISSUE

For much of last year, Turkey’s economy seemed almost on top of the world. In May, as huge construction projects moved ahead, Ankara paid off its remaining debt to the International Monetary Fund, ending what seemed to many Turks a long history of humiliation. The country received an encouraging investment-grade rating, and foreign funds poured in like never before.

In a flurry of appearances that month, Prime Minister Recep Tayyip Erdogan feted record-low interest rates, a slide in the unemployment rate from 15 percent to nine percent since 2009, and, above all, the growth that Turkey has enjoyed “due to reforms carried out over the past ten years.” He underlined his point -- and his driving ambition -- on an exuberant visit to Washington. Addressing the U.S. Chamber of Commerce, he noted that when his Islamist-rooted Justice and Development Party (AKP) came to power in 2002, at least 20 other economies were bigger than Turkey’s in terms of dollar output. “Now, we are 17th,” he exulted, “and in due course, we are going to be among the ten largest economies.”

The Turkish economy has indeed come a long way during Erdogan’s decade in office, propelling Ankara’s ascent to greater global prominence. In the late 1990s, Turkey was running 90 percent inflation and attracting almost no foreign investment. As recently as 2002, Turkey was using up almost 90 percent of its tax revenues to pay the interest on its debt. Today, these problems have all but disappeared.

But the optimism of May has since faded. Turkey, like many other developing countries, has found itself facing skittish markets, volatile exchange rates, political unrest, and an uncertain outlook. The picture of Turkey today is less flattering but more revealing than before, displaying both the promise and the perils of being an $800 billion emerging economy.

Turkey is still on track to grow faster than much of the industrialized world in the coming years. In October, Jim Yong Kim, the president of the World Bank, hailed the country as “an inspiration to many developing countries.” But the fact remains that Turkey’s success could yet unravel. To live up to its economic potential, Turkey will have to overcome two main challenges: its reliance on fickle foreign funds and the intrusion of heavy-handed politics into its economic life.

SEEDS OF SUCCESS

The seeds of Turkey’s success this century lie in the failure of the period that immediately preceded it. After the liberalizing reforms of Turgut Ozal, the visionary prime minister of the 1980s, who opened up what had been a perennially closed economy, the 1990s were a wretched decade, punctuated by economic crisis, brutal episodes in the country’s Kurdish conflict, a de facto coup, and a devastating earthquake. This was a time when the lack of foreign funds, often the result of spikes in U.S. Treasury yields, could cause economies to seize up, and Turkey was hardly alone in its misery. During these years, macroeconomic shocks also hit Mexico, Russia, and Southeast Asia.

For Turkey, this sorry period came to an end just after a 2001 banking crisis, when Finance Minister Kemal Dervis, with the cooperation of the International Monetary Fund, laid the groundwork for success. Ankara pruned back its spending, brought inflation under control, introduced a floating exchange rate, restructured the country’s banks, and granted more independence to the central bank and regulators. When the AKP took over in 2002, it stuck to this template, which paid off as Turkey’s discussions with the European Union progressed. The prospect of EU membership -- negotiations started in 2005 -- opened the floodgates for foreign direct investment.

A boom in infrastructure development and construction added to the good times. Since the outset of Erdogan’s tenure, the country’s highway network has been expanded by more than 10,000 miles. The number of airports has doubled, to 50, and Turkish Airlines now flies to more than 100 countries, more than any other carrier in the world. New, upscale housing complexes and shopping malls seem to flank every major city.

Turkey’s once-fragile banking sector was strong enough to get through the 2008 financial crisis with only a brief, albeit deep, recession. Then, as the United States unleashed an unprecedented monetary stimulus, Turkey floated on a sea of money. Growth roared ahead: the economy expanded by 9.2 percent in 2010 and 8.8 percent in 2011, although higher interest rates slowed the overheating economy to 2.2 percent growth in 2012.

HOOKED ON FOREIGN FUNDS

Yet for all its strengths, Turkey remains vulnerable. Its first major problem is its dependence on foreign funds. The country suffers from structural weaknesses that have been obscured by the waves of money that have been crashing in because of loose monetary policies elsewhere. It shares this problem with other developing countries, including Brazil and Indonesia, whose governments have grown lazy about reforms and let the quantitative-easing-induced good times roll. This dependence has become particularly worrying since May, when the U.S. Federal Reserve floated the possibility of reining in its monetary stimulus, a step that would likely reduce the funds that have been pouring into emerging economies. For Turkey, the talk of a tighter U.S. monetary policy left a particular mark: amid other troubles, yields on the country’s benchmark two-year bonds doubled.

Turkish markets were sensitive for one reason above all: a lack of balance in the country’s economy. Even though Turkey was expected to have grown by only 3.5 to 4.0 percent in 2013 -- below the level needed to create enough jobs for new entrants into the work force -- the country’s current account deficit stands at about seven percent of GDP. Despite Turkey’s enormous appeal for tourists (36 million arrived in 2012), a manufacturing base well positioned for exports, a $62 billion agricultural sector, a tradition of trading, and ambitions to become an energy hub, the country still relies on domestic consumption to power its economy, and consumption has risen rapidly as savings have fallen. At present, Turkey sucks in foreign goods and relies on foreign cash to finance even lackluster economic expansion.

Making matters worse, the foreign funds that are financing Turkey’s expansion are overwhelmingly short-term investments and could be swiftly pulled out of the country. Net foreign direct investment underwrote just $7.3 billion of the country’s $56.7 billion current account deficit between August 2012 and August 2013. By contrast, five years ago, such investment -- which is intrinsically more stable than short-term portfolio funds -- financed half the deficit.

Turkish officials argue that concerns about the country’s prospects are exaggerated and emphasize that a return to a more traditional U.S. monetary policy should not be compared with traumas on the scale of the collapse of Lehman Brothers. And in fact, with the U.S. economy still troubled, the Federal Reserve has so far held off tapering back its $85 billion of monthly asset purchases: money has returned to Turkey, and the spike in Turkish bond yields has partially subsided. Most analysts predict that Turkey will continue to grow moderately, as the country’s living standards continue to converge toward those of the developed world, albeit at a slower pace than before.

But Washington’s loose monetary policy can’t last forever, and behind the Turkish economy’s ups and downs, deeper problems lurk. The rebound from the 1990s is over, the low-hanging fruit of the last decade’s reforms has been picked, and the foreign money on which the economy depends will eventually be in shorter supply. If Turkey cannot reduce its dependence on short-term foreign capital, it will not be able to grow enough, or at least not sustainably.

To a certain extent, the Turkish story so far has been less than meets the eye. The government trumpets that during its time in office, income per capita has tripled, partly a result of disparities between inflation and the exchange rate. But that growth happened early on, mostly due to the lira’s strengthening in real terms, and for the past half decade, that figure has largely been stuck around $10,500.

Then there are a whole host of structural issues that Turkey must address. Participation in the labor force remains low: only about 50 percent of working-age adults were employed in 2012, compared with an average of 68 percent across the mostly developed countries of the Organ­ization for Economic Cooperation and Development. Part of the reason for this is the fact that Turkey has overlooked the potential of half its population: according to a recent World Economic Forum report, Turkey ranks 120th out of 136 countries in terms of gender equality, and women constitute only 23 percent of the nonagricultural work force. Moreover, Turkey still lags behind the developed world in terms of educational levels. In 2011, two-thirds of Turkey’s working-age population had received only primary education or less, and according to the EU, fully 30 percent of Turkey’s young people are neither receiving education or training nor securing jobs.

The government acknowledges all these concerns. Ankara is seeking to reduce its dependence on foreign fuel, which accounts for almost all its current account deficit, by encouraging alternative sources of energy and attempting to develop Turkey as an energy hub between its oil- and gas-rich neighbors. The government has recently imposed measures to limit credit card and consumer lending to contain private consumption, and it has offered new incentives for pension schemes to encourage saving. The World Bank recently commended the “remarkable improvement” in Turkey’s education system since 2003. And the government’s finances are in admirable shape.

But the existing problems translate into economic facts of life: much of the increase in employment in recent years has come from agriculture, services, and relatively low-technology manufacturing in Anatolia. Outside the greater Istanbul area and beyond the Aegean coastline, two areas that export products such as refrigerators, washing machines, televisions, and vehicles, much of the country produces low-value-added goods, which generate less income and can be more vulnerable to competition.

THE STRONGMAN

Turkey’s other main challenge is political. The concentration of power under Erdogan was once an essential precondition for economic success. Today, however, it could make things worse, not better.

Erdogan’s chief accomplishment has been to establish the supremacy of Turkey’s elected leaders and hence the stability of government on which economic progress often rests. After 40 years in which the military ousted four governments, Turkish democracy no longer operates at gunpoint. Erdogan has pushed aside a host of opponents, some of them antidemocratic, including the military, big business, the country’s old media barons, and the judges who bent laws in a bid to weaken the AKP government. But the consequence is that the prime minister is now master of almost all he surveys, which, combined with his often erratic behavior of late, has raised important questions about the Turkish government’s transparency, rationality, and stability.

The institutions that played a role in Turkey’s success over the past decade now struggle to appear independent of the prime minister’s will. Despite the prospect of an end to the U.S. stimulus -- and inflation of about eight percent -- the central bank has kept the benchmark interest rate at 4.5 percent. Instead of increasing that rate -- what would seem the appropriate response -- the central bank has tightened the money supply with unorthodox and often confusing measures. Underlining the constraints under which the bank operates, Erdogan has long made clear his aversion to high interest rates, not least because of their role in holding back growth, and blamed an “interest-rate lobby” for stoking the Gezi Park protests last summer.

Other examples of the centralization of economic power abound. The Capital Markets Board of Turkey has named three AKP officials, including two former ministers, as directors of Turkcell, the country’s biggest cell-phone company. Last summer, Turkey’s broadcasting watchdog fined television stations that screened footage of the Gezi protests. Most conspicuous, after Erdogan denounced the Turkish conglomerate Koc Holding for sheltering protesters in one of its hotels, in July, tax inspectors accompanied by police raided the offices of several Koc subsidiaries. The case is ongoing and could fizzle out in the long run, but Turkish executives now privately complain that such an atmosphere could scare away the foreign direct investment that Turkey so desperately needs.

Indeed, the risks that Erdogan’s erratic policymaking could wreak economic damage is especially great in a country with few natural resources and little capital of its own. If the government continues to punish the media for broadcasting bad news, if big decisions come to depend on the mood of one man, and if companies fear predatory fines, Turkish growth seems unlikely to continue at the rates to which the country has become accustomed.

Little of this seems to have dawned on Erdogan himself, however: the prime minister has rarely sounded more optimistic. His government projects that Turkey will reach a per capita income of $25,000 by 2023 -- the centenary of the founding of the republic -- and realize its aim of becoming one of the world’s ten biggest economies. The latter target would require barely credible rates of growth -- 15 percent a year, according to Rahmi Koc, the patriarch of Koc Holding -- but it is in keeping with the prime minister’s monumental approach. Erdogan has also backed and begun such giant projects as a vast new airport for Istanbul, a new bridge across the Bosporus, and a new canal to run parallel to the strait. In Turkey’s current political climate, any suggestion that such projects could face financing difficulties leads to howls of outrage by the pro-government press.

As all of this implies, Turkey’s economic potential is decidedly mixed. The country remains alluring to consumer goods companies that want to sell to the country’s youthful population; it has been tried and tested as a manufacturer, and it retains a strong tradition of exporting apparel. But for other foreign investors, it presents more uncertain prospects; government officials acknowledge that foreign direct investment is considerably below where they would like it to be.

Nevertheless, Turkey still stands out amid the troubled economies of southern Europe, not to mention a Middle East in turmoil. In a November survey, the European Bank for Reconstruction and Development forecast that in 2014, Turkey would grow by 3.6 percent -- less than it had previously expected, but still a higher rate than those projected for many of its neighbors. The country’s enviable geographic location and its customs union with the EU remain important competitive advantages.

ANKARA'S AMBITION

The current state of affairs may not necessarily endure. Optimists argue that the country will return to trend, in politics as well as economics. They note that Turkey is incomparably richer and freer than it was 15 years ago. On the economic front, if education improves and Turks save more, the country can continue to grow at an accelerated pace. And on the political front, Erdogan may change course if the drawbacks of his current approach sink in.

In fact, Erdogan might not even be at the helm of government for much longer. Erdogan has sworn not to serve another term as premier (AKP term limits prohibit it), and he has shown great interest in running for the country’s presidency -- currently a largely symbolic post -- in the first direct elections for the position, which will be held later this year. Should he do so, the current president, Abdullah Gul, may well become prime minister. And a country led by Gul could be an entirely different place. Although Gul and Erdogan are old allies who built the AKP together, in recent years, Gul has taken pains to establish himself as a more moderate alternative to his old comrade. During his address at the opening of parliament in October, Gul called for a “new growth policy” and argued that Turkey should address its low savings rate, its educational failings, and the lack of women’s participation in political and economic life, as well as find ways to make “foreign investors and our own entrepreneurs feel safe and secure.”

Whoever leads Turkey next will face strong headwinds. Few analysts predict that Turkey will face the sort of crashes that have done it so much damage in the past. But in a harsh report in September, the International Monetary Fund warned that it would be difficult for Turkey to grow by four or five percent annually -- let alone by the extraordinary levels of recent memory -- “while continuing to accumulate large external liabilities.” It predicted that without structural reform, higher interest rates, and tighter spending policies, the country would be left with an unenviable choice between sluggish growth and bouts of instability.

This is the dilemma that Erdogan faces as he seeks to continue the political and economic advances his country has made since 2002. He has often proved his critics wrong. But Erdogan can achieve his outsized ambitions only if the country and the government do everything right. And the way things currently look, that might simply be too much to expect.

[Foreign Affairs] Can a Myth Rule a Nation?

The Truth About Sisi's Candidacy in Egypt

By Joshua Stacher

Anyone who claims to possess full political power in post-Mubarak Egypt is lying. That might be hard to believe, given how large the military looms these days. But the vision of an almighty military -- propagated by the Supreme Council of the Armed Forces (SCAF), its supporters, and those desperate for stability -- is a mirage. Soon enough, it will dissipate, revealing deep tensions in Egypt and dwindling options for what is often assumed to be Egypt’s strongest institution.

On Monday, SCAF, the governing body of the Egyptian military, unanimously gave Abdel Fattah al-Sisi, the military’s commander in chief and Egypt’s current defense minister, its blessing to run for president. (Indeed, it considers his nomination a “mandate and an obligation.”) Sisi, whom the interim president promoted to the rank of field marshal the same day, has yet to announce his candidacy. Still, most everyone has accepted it -- and his eventual presidency -- as a fait accompli, the final step in the military’s reconquest of Egypt and the country’s return to the days of former President Hosni Mubarak.

But that is not the whole story.

Last June, Mubarak supporters and some revolutionaries came together to oust elected Egyptian President Mohamed Morsi. Since then, large parts of society have coalesced around Sisi as the personification of a renewed nationalist strain of Egyptian power. He is lionized in the state media and praised by figures from Mubarak’s defunct ruling party and crony capitalist networks. Much of the general population, outside of the Muslim Brotherhood and revolutionaries, view him as being above the political fray. Brides profess to want to marry him, and men project his masculinity to reinforce their patriarchy. And those clamoring for stability -- from media moguls to average Egyptians and U.S. Secretary of State John Kerry -- talk of democratic roadmaps and upcoming elections while sweeping political reality under the rug.

Sisi has tried to cement his position in politics by initiating an antiterror campaign, launched in late July of last year. The state’s coercive machinery has since increased its targeting of antigovernment protests and sit-ins, which has produced a death toll in the thousands. It is more than just a crackdown on the Muslim Brotherhood, which Egypt’s military-backed government has officially labeled a terrorist organization. The interim government and security forces have also killed and injured non-Brotherhood protesters, jailed revolutionary activists and nonstate-controlled journalists, lodged legal accusations against politicians who rose to prominence after the uprising, and slandered dissenting academics. The campaign has coincided with an uptick in bombings, assassinations, and a Sinai-based insurgency against the state by an Islamist group, Ansar Beit al-Maqdis. As the body count rises (security forces killed nearly 70 people last weekend), it is becoming clear that the state has actually weakened over the past three years. The government’s policy of using violence against dissenters is merely the latest effort to fix a leaky boat. But it will keep Egypt on the brink of revolution.

To understand why, consider what happened as protesters chased Mubarak’s last government out of office in January and February 2011: The military rolled in to protect infrastructure and its own factories and then carved up Mubarak’s ruling coalition while everyone else focused on Mubarak’s resignation. The SCAF exiled or imprisoned some crony capitalists and the government’s pro­-economic-reform team because it did not control them. It eliminated many of its competitors in the interior ministry and brought them under its authority. For example, the SCAF renamed the State Security Investigations Service(Homeland Security) , Egypt’s draconian domestic spying apparatus and reshuffled its leadership in March 2011.

Other powerful and potentially competitive intelligence agencies were not spared. Take, for instance, Omar Suleiman’s General Intelligence Service. An assassination attempt against him in Cairo during the uprising was never explained, and most accounts speculate that the military was behind the conspiracy because no one was ever apprehended. He can be forgiven, then, for quickly retiring after Mubarak’s departure. Last August’s appointment of Mohamed Farid el-Tohamy -- a former military intelligence officer -- to run the General Intelligence Service demonstrates just how fully the military had dismantled Suleiman’s old networks.

By the time the revolution was over, nearly all political control rested in the SCAF’s hands. At that point, the council had a number of options. It could have governed on its own, but it did not want to. Instead, the generals decided to protect their interests but hide behind a civilian face. So it sought out a civilian administration that could not challenge it. In the process, it whittled Mubarak’s regime, which had been designed to serve multiple constituencies and networks, into a system that would serve the interests of the military alone.

The SCAF reached out to a previous foe, which, it believed, could help demobilize a restive society. The Muslim Brotherhood was given a choice between siding with the revolution or the military. Brotherhood leaders broke toward the generals, believing that, if they were pliant enough, they would be indispensible to the military. In the end, however, Morsi and his group could not deliver what the military wanted: public stability or an end to continuous street activity. In fact, their presence and blatantly partisan rule made protests worse. So the military and its supporters consulted with and allowed the Tamarod protesters to turn up the heat on Morsi. Their street mobilization in late June, in turn, pushed the generals back into action.

In one sense, the military got its way. It demonstrated its sway over the Egyptian state when some observers believed that it had, in fact, been sidelined by Morsi, who forced the retirement of a handful of senior generals in August 2012, including the then defense minister and head of the SCAF, Field Marshal Mohamed Hussein Tantawi. But in another sense, the military damaged the foundations of the regime it inherited. By pushing out an elected official, it discredited the notion of elections as a useful tool for rotating and transferring political power among civilian groups. Gone was any last inkling that the military could stand neutrally by, allow electoral victors to emerge, and not interfere with the process.

Now, with no other organized civilian group left to work with and its options limited, the SCAF hurled Sisi into the spotlight and began to create the myth of an Oz-like wizard controlling the state. Doing so bought Egypt’s generals some time, but the task before them -- engineering a new regime -- needs more than that. The longer the transition process drags on, the more cornered the SCAF finds itself. In fact, although Sisi’s nomination for the presidency might have appeared inevitable or destined, one could argue that it was the SCAF’s increasing weakness and paranoia that motivated his impending candidacy. After all, given his popularity, Sisi could anoint anyone as Egypt’s next preferred president. Open elections would likely be a landslide for his chosen candidate, and the process would preserve both the vestige of procedural democracy and the SCAF’s ability to intervene. Yet the generals named Sisi, looking to him to finish off the revolution and reign in the Brotherhood’s participation in politics.

But beyond creepy state press portrayals of Sisi’s virility and Egyptians parading around in gold-colored Sisi masks, as many were in Tahrir Square on the third anniversary of the revolution on January 25, the junta has little upon which to build a real regime. Sisi has no economic policies or political programs to speak of. The military-backed government’s base is narrow, and since it has no way to incorporate dissenters, it will generate more dissent and state-generated violence.

For now, Sisi and the SCAF have amassed the popularity of a fickle public. But the winds could change at any time. In years past, the military was able to pivot at will, showing remarkable flexibility. But now, with Sisi’s nomination, it has made the military the central player in the drama. Its role in politics now publically recognized, it will face more scrutiny as it tries to pull the levers. It has no civilian partner on which to pin the blame, and it is losing the support of its onetime grass-roots ally, Tamarod. As the regime-in-formation resorts more and more frequently to force, it will only exacerbate Egypt’s political crisis.

It is telling that the only institution that emerged with a good hand after Mubarak fell is increasingly playing with limited cards: all clubs and no hearts, diamonds, or spades. Although it might seem in control for now, the public will not tolerate an increasingly iron fist forever. Instability and violence will eat away at the myth of the omnipotent, newly promoted field marshal and the system’s narrative of stability. Once that happens, the ongoing social struggle will move on to its next phase.

[Foregin Affairs Website 2014/1/31]