The 'Democratization Industry' and the Middle East

Inaugural Lecture - Professor Robert Springborg
SOAS, May 24th 2005

What does it mean to “do” democracy, and is there such a thing as the “democratization industry”? These were the issues that Professor Robert Springborg sought to address in his Inaugural Lecture at SOAS. A packed auditorium listened to Professor Springborg’s elucidation of a fairly new strand of applied political science, and in particular the implementation of democratic processes and standards across the Middle East, which remains disproportionately the world’s most undemocratic region.

Professor Springborg began by outlining what he refers to as the democratization industry a particular strand of political science which has evolved, distinct from academia, into a significant, career-based practise. In essence, it refers to the work done by assorted NGOs, bilateral and multilateral donors and philanthropic foundations to foster and promote the growth of Western-style democracy. Beginning amidst the death throes of the Soviet Union in the 1980s, these various assorted groups were interested in establishing stability in the newly independent states that arose in Eastern Europe and the Caucasus. As globalisation took off, and the Cold War ended with capitalism as the dominant ideology across most of the world, the belief that democracy was the best hope for a lasting global peace was embraced with some vigour. Simply put, democracies tended to instigate wars less often than other forms of government. During the early 1990s Springborg himself was involved with the DIS, or ‘Democratic Institutions Support’, project, whose remit covered the Arab world. Curiously, the very word ‘democracy’ was seen to be problematic within the Middle East, and was often euphemised into ‘institutions’ or ‘governance’. Democracy was seen as a purely Western invention and thus carried with it connotations of colonial oppression. Springborg noted that, at the time, the project was often criticised as being a folly of Orientalism, and suggested that he and his colleagues had answered such criticisms; however, he failed to back up this claim with any concrete examples.

The talk then moved on to the recently released Arab Human Development Report 2004, which identifies the democracy deficit across the region and advocates the need for gradual transition to democratic norms. The Professor outlined what he sees as the reasons for the paucity of freedom across the Middle East, in particular the existence of powerful, rich elites, the entrenchment of power through anti-colonial rhetoric, and the difficulty of removing long-standing incumbents. He also noted the lack of dialectical, open enquiry in schools, the divorcement of journalism and the politicisation of the media as symptoms of the autocratic nature of many of the regimes. Oddly, he refrained from mentioning the success of the Qatari al-Jazeera news network, nor the relative freedom of the press in post-Saddam Iraq, which ranks as one of the few successes of the US-led invasion of that country.

As Springborg then went on to explain, what is needed is shift of emphasis, from outcome to process. Across the region too much importance is placed on reaching a distant result – whether it be political freedom, journalistic autonomy, or the establishment of a viable Palestinian state. What is required instead is the establishment of the democratic processes that can lead to such outcomes. It is through these incremental steps that a state of democracy can be reached. The Professor held up Palestine as an example, saying that – despite its multifarious problems – it is the one state in the region, aside from Israel and Turkey, that has built up a range of political parties and institutions through the assistance of NGOs. He quoted Tony Blair’s phrase, the ‘ripples of change’, to describe the small yet significant changes that are building up across the region, and suggested that it is through such minute attention to detail that the extra-national organisations can help to bridge the divide between the state and civil societies.

Unfortunately, despite his optimistic predictions, Springborg seemed unwilling – or unable – to offer examples of the reforms that are taking place. After all, Tony Blair’s ‘ripples of change’ comment came back in April, when anti-Syrian protests in Lebanon accompanied promises from the Egyptian president, Hosni Mubarak, to allow candidates other than himself to run for election. These events have proved something of a chimera; although the Syrians have indeed withdrawn from Lebanon, they patently retain a decisive influence; Mubarak’s reforms are merely cosmetic, as his own government will carefully regulate who is eligible to run for the presidency. Kuwait recently allowed women to vote, yet despite promises to the contrary such a watershed is unlikely to happen in Saudi Arabia anytime soon. Meanwhile, in Iran, the conservative Council of Guardians has recently vetoed over 99% of the candidates hoping to replace outgoing President Khatami, leaving a clutch of hardliners. If the democratization industry is making any headway in the Middle East, then it is difficult to discern where this might be.

Springborg concluded by considering the industry itself, noting its domination by the US and the EU. He caused a stir with the faintly risible suggestion that Paul Wolfowitz’s nomination to the presidency of the World Bank was a good move on the grounds of his being a political scientist. While his faithfulness to his discipline is admirable, it is hard to how the neo-conservative who predicted that US soldiers would be greeted with flowers as they roared into Baghdad will be a success.

Perhaps this loyalty is true of Springborg’s approach as a whole. While it was an engaging lecture, and while his talk of the democratization industry will no doubt have many political science students dreaming of a career outside the academy, at times it did seem a little divorced from reality. While it is pleasant to imagine that democracy can be encouraged from outside, might it be a little presumptuous to assume that this is necessarily a good thing? Many in the Middle East are suspicious of any Western influence in their affairs which, going on history both recent and past, is a justified attitude. His assumption that the democracy grown organically in the West over centuries can be quickly exported to other countries is possibly a little simplistic. It also echoes the sentiments of Woodrow Wilson about ‘making the world safe for democracy’, not to mention the messianic cry of ‘freedom on the march’ that emanates periodically from the Bush administration. Both lofty ideals have foundered on the complex realities of the Middle East. Springborg’s conviction of the work done by the democratization industry sounds good in principle, but whether the influence of this nascent form of international relations will transform the region for the better remains to be seen.

A Dictator Of Our Own

"No longer should we think tyranny is benign because it is temporarily convenient. Tyranny is never benign to its victims, and our great democracies should oppose tyranny wherever it is found"

In his inauguration speech in January, President George W. Bush was careful to emphasise that his second administration would continue the work already laid out in fighting for democracy and freedom across the world. Crucially, he identified the errors made by previous US administrations – particularly during the Cold War – in backing despots and dictators purely because of their perceived adherence to the West. Examples abound: the 24-year reign of President Mubarak in Egypt, the entrenchment of the Saudi royal family, the support for Saddam Hussein during the 1980s. All of these regimes were assisted, either financially, militarily or through propaganda, by the United States as they were seen as important bastions against communism or Islamic extremism. All were, and in some cases still are, grounded upon the suppression of their own people.

According to Bush’s speech, no longer would the US support such anti-democratic regimes simply for the sake of convenience. Five months into his second term, a situation has arisen in central Asia that should, in theory, provide the White House with ample opportunity to demonstrate its new attitude to what it memorably described as “outposts of tyranny”. Yet the reaction by both America and Britain to the events in Uzbekistan give the lie to their supposed demands for democratic freedom and justice.

The hundreds, perhaps thousands, of people butchered by government forces in the city of Andijan this week are merely the latest victims of Uzbekistan’s president, Islam Karimov. The Soviet-era leftover has presides over a dictatorship in which vicious crackdowns and political repression have become commonplace. He has proved himself a creative user of state-level torture tactics, boiling political prisoners alive and authorising the police to break bones and mutilate bodies. There are some 6,000 political and religious prisoners in the country. Human Rights Watch and Amnesty International have produced dossiers detailing the widespread torture, which has escalated in the last few years.

Surely this makes Uzbekistan a ripe candidate for regime change? This would be the case, if only George Bush’s lofty promises of freedom had any shred of truth. In fact over the last four years the administrations in Washington and Tashkent have formed quite the partnership. In the aftermath of 9/11, President Karimov was quick to offer his country as a base from which to launch air raids against Afghanistan, hence securing huge amounts of US aid and military funding. Simultaneously, he labelled any dissidents in his country – including (but not limited to) trade unionists, students, and Muslims – with the smear word of the day. Thus, anybody who opposed his increasingly dictatorial manner became a ‘terrorist’ and further crackdowns were justified. The US and Britain, concerned with maintaining a strong geopolitical influence in the area – not to mention mindful of nearby oil and gas reserves – turned a blind eye to the repression. Furthermore, the country’s proximity to Iran – one third of the ‘axis of evil’ and increasingly the subject of US sabre-rattling – further elevated its importance.

Both Britain and the United States can hardly have been unaware of the repressive political atmosphere in Uzbekistan. Britain’s former ambassador to the country, Craig Murray, made numerous reports to the Foreign Office detailing the widespread torture and endemic violence, and complained that the CIA and MI6 were using ‘evidence’ obtained under duress by the Uzbek government to prove links between dissidents and al-Queda. He made so much noise, in fact, that to avoid further embarrassment the government relieved him of his role and shipped him back to the UK on trumped-up accusations of improper conduct. Murray has since remained a vociferous critic of the double standards at play.

The massacre in Andijan was sparked by a jailbreak, aimed at freeing the 23 businessmen who were arrested and charged with the rather woolly offence of ‘Islamic extremism’. Their supporters, who organised the jailbreak, maintain that they are innocent. The government disputes the hundreds of deaths and claims that only terrorists were killed. Regardless of their criminality, carnage on this scale cannot be tolerated by any civilised nation intent on promoting freedom and democracy. Yet the reaction from the British and US governments has been muted. The White House expressed its ‘concern’, and Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice meekly called for ‘political reform’, while in London Jack Straw condemned the violence. Yet no official censure has come from either government, much less a rush to mobilise the armed forces and march on Tashkent waving the flag of freedom.

While the bodies are still laid out on the dusty streets of Andijan, the leaders in London and Washington will quietly wait until Uzbekistan is off the front page. When it comes to a dictator who is on our side, massacres will always be an unpleasant – yet tolerable – distraction.

What Next For Labour?

The 2005 election, having stumbled blindly along in the gutter for five long weeks, soared briefly in the early hours of May 6th before keeling over and perishing in the blink of an eye. The verdict? At first glance it looked like death for all three major party leaders. Labour saw their seemingly unassailable three-figure majority cut by nearly 100. The Conservatives, while seeing a significant increase, never realistically threatened to get a result and ended up with 197 seats – significantly less than Michael Foot’s 209 low-water mark for Labour in 1983. The Liberal Democrats, meanwhile, having made much of their intermittent anti-war stance, failed miserably in their top Tory-hunting ‘decapitation’ strategy and gained a less than thrilling ten extra seats.

On the sunny morning of May 6th there looked to be no true winner in sight. And yet each party laid a less-than-convincing claim to success. Tony Blair gushed of his love for Labour activists at a victory party, then appeared with the family ensemble for the triumphant shots on the front step of Downing Street. Charles Kennedy proclaimed yet again that true three-party politics had arrived, avoiding the facts to deliver the platitude. Michael Howard didn’t say much at first, allowing the pundits and leader-writers to proclaim the rebirth of the Tories, with the Dover and Folkestone MP as the divine manifestation of such an unlikely event. They were left a little bemused when Howard popped up in the newly-regained constituency of Putney to announce that he had, seemingly overnight, become ‘too old’ to lead his party onto another electoral defeat. Hence the headwind looks set to peter out gradually in the face of a drawn-out leadership election.

While Kennedy’s miserly achievements will likely see that he survives to the next election, Tony Blair’s position as Prime Minister suddenly looks untenable. Labour’s biggest asset in 1997 and 2001 has – via Iraq, tuition fees and identity cards – become the party’s most significant problem. Wild-eyed psephologists have proclaimed, not without justification, that a Blair-less election would have returned another three-figure majority. Many of the fallen Labour MPs, such as Oona King and Barbara Roche, were Blairite loyalists who paid the price for their immutable subservience. There is a tangible left-wing makeup to the Labour MPs who survived on Thursday, and already the knives are out for Mr Blair. Without skipping a beat, the press has gone from election fallout to feverish speculation about the timing of the inevitable handover. Estimates range from a matter of days – with hostile MPs said to be arranging the demise of their leader even this early on – to eighteen months or thereabouts, with only one realistic conclusion being tenured: Gordon Brown’s long-awaited move into No. 10.

Rightly or wrongly, Brown is seen as having the Midas touch. His belated appearance on the campaign trail, and the unswerving dedication that he showed to the Prime Minister, apparently rejuvenated a battle that was being cumbersomely mismanaged by Alan Milburn. Brown’s stock has risen and risen during his time as Chancellor, and he has cultivated an image of honesty and integrity. The mere fact of his not being Tony Blair has elevated his popularity to stratospheric levels. Some Labour supporters predict that a clean and swift handover to Brown will see a newly-restored majority of well over 100 in 2010.

Yet there is one significant dark cloud on the horizon, and its repercussions could significantly change the state of play in the country over the remainder of the decade. On the eve of the election, several high street retailers reported extremely disappointing sales for the year’s first quarter. On Monday the Bank of England elected to keep interest rates steady at 4.75%, the ninth month without change. A 1.6% drop in manufacturing, as reported by the Office for National Statistics, adds further evidence that the economy is looking decidedly unwell. Should Brown assume the office of Prime Minister, and the economy go into tailspin, his reputation for fiscal prudence will quickly disappear. If his high-spending approach falters, the negative connotations could well taint the entire government. It must be remembered that until 1997 Labour was associated with economic incompetence. A downturn in the economy could be well exploited by the Tories and, and with Brown as the Prime Minister, they would have a highly visible target upon which to hang their accusations of ineptitude. In such a scenario it wouldn’t be particularly hard to imagine that a Conservative campaign, led by a charismatic figure such as the current party chairman, Liam Fox, could seriously threaten Labour’s period of government and the social successes that it has brought.

None of this, of course, may come to pass. The economy may recover and maintain its robustness. Brown could go on to be Prime Minister for a whole decade. Labour could become firmly entrenched as the natural party of governance and economic growth. Yet the next few years could also see financial security, a significant New Labour achievement, being slowly eroded. All those who now hail the impending Brown years with glee would be wise to beware the dark clouds gathering.