The Dawn of an Arab Summer?

Little over ten months since Mohamed Bouazizi, a former Tunisian market trader, self-immolated and sparked regional uprisings, the Arab Spring is showing its most positive signs yet of blossoming into a late Arab Summer.

On 23 October, voters across Tunisia proudly paraded their pigmented fingers as they emerged from polling stations nationwide, verification that they had exercised their democratic rights and the newfound political implications this signifies: this was the first time in generations that the outcome of such a ballot has not been pre-ordained, and is the first election to be held in the region since protests got underway.  That the vote is taking place three months later than originally scheduled owing to problems with voter registration is of itself an indication of the reverence with which democratic rights and freedoms are increasingly being held.  Accordingly, in keeping with the spirit underlying the Jasmine revolution, turnout is anticipated to be high, following enhanced campaigning and freedom of political discussion facilitated by the dismantling of the secret police.  As many in their fifties and sixties reported voting for the first time, engagement is reaching impressive peaks.

The ballot in Tunisia will elect an assembly consisting of 217 representatives, who will in turn appoint a transitional government.  Rather than a permanent governing body, the assembly’s mandate will be limited to a single year; just enough time to construct a new constitution on democratic foundations (and possibly put proposals to a national referendum).  Only then will the future shape of Tunisian democracy become apparent, with the new document detailing future political configurations and mechanisms.

With strong competition from various parties and no one faction expected to produce an overwhelming majority, coupled with a proportionally representative voting system (albeit of the closed list variety), the election holds huge democratic potential.  Furthermore, Ennahdha’s inclusion in the process could further invalidate long-held assertions concerning an ideological incompatibility between Islam and democracy, blazing a trail for other transitional states to follow, and perhaps even swaying opinion within Saudi Arabia in light of the emerging succession crisis.  Fascinating times lie ahead, and the outside world will await the outcome with bated breath; Tunisia is once again in a position to influence the future of the entire region.

No doubt members of Libya’s National Transitional Council will be paying particularly close attention: following the death of Muammar Gaddafi days earlier, the transitional government declared liberation from Benghazi on the same day that polls were held in Tunisia.  Elections for a similar assembly, also tasked with drafting a new constitution and forming a transitional government, are due in Libya within eight months.  Similarly, the drawn-out process of parliamentary elections in Egypt is due to get underway in late-November following delays caused by military foot-dragging and breakdowns in political coalition-building.  Lessons from Tunis would be welcomed in both as green shoots of democracy begin to emerge across the region.

While the vast pockets of pro-Gaddafi support encountered in Libya will complicate the process and cause potential delays, the complete eradication of the regime will likely be advantageous in the longer term; unlike Tunisia, where elements of Ben Ali’s Democratic Constitutional Rally remain, and Egypt where traces of Mubarak’s National Democratic Party persist, embodied by the military’s continued presence and political involvement, Libyans will have the opportunity to build a political infrastructure afresh.  Western nations need to be prepared to offer assistance and advice where needed, but should seek to cultivate a regionally organic arrangement rather than export and impose specific models; room for flexibility is essential if the Arab summer is to reach full bloom and democracy is to persist.

Military Action in Libya and the Arab League’s Cold Feet

The United Nations Security Council passed, on 17 March, Resolution 1973.  The official aim of the Resolution is to protect Libyan civilians from pro-Gaddafi troops and avert a potential humanitarian catastrophe through ‘the immediate establishment of a ceasefire and a complete end to violence’, calling on Libyan authorities to ‘comply with their obligations under international law’ and to ‘take all measures to protect civilians’.  However, with pro-Gaddafi forces continuing their violent onslaught eastwards, coalition forces exercised the provision of Resolution 1973, beginning on 19 March, to ‘take all necessary measures … to protect civilians and civilian populated areas under threat of attack in the Libyan Arab Jamahiriya, including Benghazi, while excluding a foreign occupation force of any form on any part of Libyan territory’.

Various claims relating to ulterior motives of regime change and increasing oil market stability, as well as criticisms concerning an alleged continuation of Western “liberal interventionism” in a Blairite mould, have all been voiced.  However, Resolution 1973 does not explicitly call for regime change: French President Sarkozy, who has been at the forefront of operations, opines that it is ‘our duty’ to respond to the ‘anguished appeal’ of the Libyan population in their demands to the right to determine their own destiny.  This necessarily entails protecting citizens from the ‘mortal danger’ posed by pro-Gaddafi forces.  With Gaddafi perched atop of Libya’s military infrastructure, his removal could be seen as a viable (indeed, for some such as Senator Joe Lieberman, the only viable) means through which to achieve this end, though the issue of whether this amounts to de facto regime change should remain subordinate to the ultimate aim of protecting Libyan civilians.  Importantly, in this context, no exit strategy has been confirmed, meaning coalition allied forces have to be prepared to maintain a presence until Gaddafi leaves through one means or another.  However, Admiral Mike Mullen, chairman of the US Joint Chiefs of Staff, acknowledged on 20 March that the end-game of military action in Libya is ‘very uncertain’ and could indeed end in stalemate: with a no-fly zone successfully imposed, Gaddafi would be unable to mount offensive operations, but revolutionary forces would not have the assets to loosen his grip on power.

The outbreak of fighting was accompanied by a concurrent outbreak of high-minded morality.  A spokesman from Russia’s foreign ministry stated that Moscow regretted the decision by the Western powers to take military action, despite giving tacit approval through abstaining at the vote of the UNSC.  Similarly, a committee of heads of state requested by the African Union to find solutions to the Libyan crisis, also called for an end to hostilities on Sunday, with Mauritanian President Mohamed Ould Abdel Aziz, who chaired the AU panel, declaring that the solution ‘must adhere to the value we place in respecting territorial unity and integrity, as well as the rejection of all foreign military intervention, whatever form it takes’.  Meanwhile, Amr Moussa, Secretary General of the Arab League – who called, on 12 March, for the UN to impose a no-fly zone on Libya amidst claims that Gaddafi’s regime had ‘lost legitimacy’ as a result of efforts to crush a revolution aiming to remove him from power – claimed that the military action in Libya ‘differs from the goal of imposing a no-fly zone’.  However, with the issue of a NFZ having been widely discussed prior to the UNSC vote on 17 March, the practical implications of neutralising Libya’s integrated air defence system were broadly understood prior to action being undertaken.  The redoubling of fears concerning the legitimacy of Western actions in enforcing Resolution 1973 have seemingly been caused by a confusion between principles of “preemption” and “prevention”, given that pro-Gaddafi forces had not previously utilised air power in a meaningful way in the suppression of pro-democracy revolutionaries.  Such fears, however, are unwarranted.

Post-9/11, preemptive and preventive uses of force have caused much controversy, particularly concerns regarding the moral legitimacy of the latter.  The distinction lies in the perceived imminence of attack, though the subjectivity of this measure is a potential flaw – as witnessed prior to the 2003 invasion of Iraq when allies such as France contested the alleged evidence of WMD.  Traditionally, states (and, by extrapolation, individuals) have been afforded the right to utilise force in self-defence.  While this has not customarily allowed for an unqualified right to employ force, there exists no obligation to allow an aggressor to fire first: preemption is therefore a derivative of traditional self-defence when an offensive strike is perceived to be imminent.  Prevention, on the other hand, is the response to a presumed threat; action undertaken in anticipation of injurious undertakings that are neither in progress nor on the horizon.  Prevention is thus widely perceived as illegitimate on the basis that other responses could first be undertaken, meaning that the vital “last resort” requirement of a just conflict remains unfulfilled.

Clearly, the situation in Libya was desperate.  With pro-Gaddafi forces surging eastwards towards Benghazi, having already retaken many towns and former rebel strongholds in bloody and violent battles, the threat posed to civilians was plainly imminent.  To be certain, claims pertaining military intervention to be covertly aimed at a protection of Western interests are wide of the mark: with Gaddafi’s forces massacring Libyan citizens, civil war and humanitarian crisis loomed.  On this basis, the decision to vote in favour of a UNSC Resolution authorising measures to protect civilians, while excluding a foreign occupation force ‘of any form’, was correct.  By the same token, targeting military installations housing air defence mechanisms was a necessary step in enabling the implementation of a NFZ.  Not only will this allow coalition forces to protect against air strikes with a diminished risk of being themselves fired at, but has also enabled actions against imminent ground surges given the ambiguity surrounding the proscription of the use of ground forces.