There is nothing generic that disqualifies Arab nations from being democracies, but changes must occur, with a vision upheld, writes Hala Mustafa* Historical upheavals, indeed many of the turning points in human civilisation, were once but visions entertained by philosophers. At each stage of human history conflicts emerge, setbacks occur, clouds obscure rays of hope. But in the end, justice and righteousness prevail. Enlightenment comes first as a whisper, a murmur drowned by the din of falsehood, and yet momentum ensues, a snowball begins rolling, and things change. The distance may be considerable between what we have and what we want. The path may be harsh, strewn with the debris of dashed hopes, and yet we go on trying. There is no such thing as nations destined to progress and others destined to backwardness. Had this been true, history would have come to a standstill long ago. Some see politics as a Machiavellian endeavour, a domain in which only narrow calculations and self- interest matter, a realm in which cynicism prevails and ideals are dispensable. This is not true. Most great leaders and memorable politicians had a vision to seek, principles to live by. From Plato and Aristotle to Rousseau and Voltaire, ideas have preceded action. It is true that politics is the art of the possible, a land of compromise, a process of give-and-take, but none of this can be of use unless we have a clear vision of what we want, a glimpse of an ideal, a notion of fairness. Democracy dwells in the thorny land of politics, involves a tension between the possible and the aspired to, embraces controversy, even on the best way to achieve it, even on the conditions that must be met before it becomes real. The nation's background and experience, its culture and economy are all relevant. At present, democracy is a matter of debate at home and abroad. Everyone seems to agree on its merits and disagree on how to achieve it. It is perhaps necessary to address some of the key issues surrounding democracy at this crucial juncture in our history. The region is faced with many challenges, not least the matter of Iraq, a country that was supposed to be a catalyst of democratic change in the Middle East. Instead, it has turned into a flashpoint of turmoil. Were the expectations too high? Is it true that our part of the world is resistant to democracy? Admittedly, the conditions of occupation create an extraordinary situation, one under which a healthy political scene is hard to imagine. But extraordinary circumstances don't last forever. One day, the nation will be the one to choose its own system of government. So, let's imagine a situation where Iraq, or a similar country, acting freely from foreign intervention, is seeking democracy. One of the most critical factors in democracy is the fabric of the country in question. Ethnic and sectarian divisions, as well as clan and tribal power, weaken the cohesion of the modern state. The latter should be a melting pot for the various elements of the nation, a rallying point for communal loyalty, an expression of a shared identity. Citizenry is the focal point of the nation state. Citizenry involves equality among the various ingredients of society, transcends narrow affiliations and enhances national loyalty. This is a most important function of the modern state. In Iraq's case, the process of national integration has either been ignored or crudely enforced. This is why the collapse of the repressive system exposed cracks in the national structure. And this is why Iraq needs to assert citizenry as the common unifying element of the nation, for only then will democracy be possible. To build a modern state, Iraq will have to address constitutional, legislative and judicial matters. It has to revise its existing political, economic and social institutions -- most of which are ineffectual, even inconsistent with political progress. The cultural ingredient is also of consequence. Residual cultural patterns could be inconsistent with the need to assert civic rights and individual freedoms. The dominant culture in Iraq is largely one of a collective, not individual character. Collective impulses could hamper the cause of democracy, for they stress unity at the expense of individuality, populism at the expense of plurality. And yet, they are part of the nation's past. The politics of the past few decades and the religious tendencies of the nation as a whole seem to favour populism. This is why a new breed of political leaders has emerged in Iraq. The new leaders are men who combine, and even confuse, the national and the religious cause, who emphasise the tribal and sectarian aspect. They may be politically inept. They may lack political programmes. But these men can rally support at will, and some have armed followers. This makes them a force to contend with -- a reality that cannot be ignored. Let's assume that the emergence of such men is a knee-jerk reaction to the occupation. The question is: What will happen once the occupation ends? Is it not possible that patterns that evolve under extraordinary circumstances prevail in the end? Is it not possible that current modes of behaviour persist? It is so far clear that religious leaders, the ones who take to the streets as well as those who speak from behind closed doors, have become part of the country's political scene. I am not trying to pre-judge this new strain of leaders. What matters is how their presence affects the course of democratisation. In modern democracies, leaders do not, and must not, have a divine-given status. They are elected on the basis of their political and social programmes and are brought to account if they fail to implement their promises. No leader, in modern democracies, is allowed to have a monopoly on what is ultimately true, indisputably correct, regardless of how much tribal, religious or political support he or she may have. For the past few decades, namely since independence, most Arab nations came under the rule of men known for their charisma; of leaders who could stir up sentiments and admiration and act on behalf of the nation, as embodiments of the public will. This pattern, while obviously inconsistent with democracy, is still common in the Arab scene. It has been immortalised in many literary works, including Youssef Idris's novel The Journey ( Al-Rehlah ). This is a pattern born of the "revolutionary" phase, of the struggle for independence, but persists to this day and is inconsistent with democracy. Finally, let's turn to the elite, to its role, aspirations and vision. Democratisation is inconceivable unless backed by an elite with a forward-looking vision. The Egyptian elite, to give you one example, has sought, and introduced, reforms in this country for the past two centuries. From Al-Tahtawi and Ali Mubarak to Taha Hussein and Qasim Amin, Egyptian reformers have done much to improve education and the status of women, to modernise laws and advance freedoms. The role of the elite is still as crucial as ever. The road to democracy may be strewn with difficulties, but much can change if we have the vision and determination to go on. * The writer is the editor-in-chief of the quarterly journal Al-Demoqratiya (Democracy), published by Al- Ahram.
