The war against Iraq has divided the Arab intelligentsia in a curious manner. So bizarre is the polarisation, argues Azmi Bishara, that some now equate democracy with US hegemony Irrespective of what they said publicly about the war on Iraq, Arab intellectuals have mostly failed to split into two well-defined camps over the crisis. The attitude to the war did not always reflect a genuine cultural or intellectual rift. Mostly, it was deftly calibrated to reflect the political savvy of the commentator in question. Public speakers had to take into account the anti-war sentiment among the Arab masses. Evidently, it is difficult to support a foreign aggression against the Arabs, an aggression opposed in most of Europe and even in certain Arab countries that covertly supported the war. The fact that some of our intellectuals say in public things they do not quite believe in is a reflection of a very particular political culture. Our culture is apprehensive of demagoguery as well as of public criticism -- unless this criticism is directed against outsiders. Definitely, some people supported the aggression, even while denouncing it. Forget public statements and let's take a look at the way people actually felt. In reality, there were two opposing camps, for and against the war on Iraq. This actual split of real positions did not, however, follow the twists of political debate in the region. Much of the debate has to do with whether the interlocutors like the United States or dislike it, whereas people should be looking for differences over values, for a dividing line on significant issues, such as the way to run a modern society, or how domestic policy is related to Arab issues, or legal equality and social welfare. We should examine the link between these issues and the US policy in the region and its ties with certain countries. Does it matter what people think of Saddam? Is our position versus Saddam a reliable indication of where we stand on real issues? It is hard to find lovers of democracy and human rights, of freedom and equality, even of reasoned analysis, among Saddam's supporters. Saddam's opponents include the pro-democracy forces, but also include many who support other types of dictatorship, or who are displeased with the secularity of Saddam's regime, or who take sides with other regional powers that are antagonistic to Saddam. Our views of Saddam do not explain the true rift existing in Arab culture today. Likewise, our view of the war does not indicate where we stand on major issues in this region. Is democracy the right criterion to gauge where our intelligentsia stand on major Arab issues? Mind you, it is not uncommon for people to call for democracy in order to have the chance to contest elections or embarrass the existing regime. But some do not believe in democracy. They only want a chance to pounce on power. You can tell who these people are, for most stop short of advocating legal and civic rights. The reason is simple, they do not want the public to take these rights for granted and demand it from any future authority. They do not want these rights to become integrated into the rotation of power. It is only when we take democratic values into consideration that we find one valid criterion for a true cultural split on the Arab world. This issue has matured enough to become a cultural question of the first order. There should be no illusion left about its importance, particularly that most of our serious intellectuals no longer entertain any hope that undemocratic policies can be of value. Public positions are not always a reflection of what people think. This poses a certain problem. Shall we judge people by what they say, or what we think they mean? We should not cling to words as such. We should see them in their social and political context, examine how they accord with previous positions taken by the same individual, and with the actual political record of that individual. Democracy is a better criterion for mapping out cultural positions than, say, the normalisation with Israel. The latter issue, although of paramount significance, blurs differences among cultural stances. This is because opponents to normalisation come from a variant political and moral background. I for one believe that opposition to normalisation with Israel is good, but I don't want people to use it as a moral alibi. The opposition of normalisation should not offer a safe haven for those whose hearts are in the wrong place. In other words, one cannot act despicably all around -- collaborate with the authorities against fellow intellectuals, support undemocratic regimes -- and then seek redemption by opposing normalisation. A recent editorial in Yediot Aharonot claims that certain Arab intellectuals are obstructing peace because they refuse to recognise the Jews as a nation entitled for a state and consider Zionism a colonialist movement. Somehow, this claim reminds me of Arab intellectuals who reduce everything to the question of normalisation and refuse to discuss anything else. There is a legitimate ground for taking a moral and sensible stand against Zionism. Israel wants to gauge the history of the conflict, our enlightenment, and our democracy by the measuring stick of Zionist values. But we can retain our anti-Zionist cultural stand without being enemies of the Jews or to coexistence. We can take a public stand that opposes racism against the Jews while maintaining a sensible and moral stand that supports justice and refuses to equate the occupiers with the occupied. Recently, some Arab radical intellectuals have brought up the question of identity while trying to mobilise public opinion against US, Western, and Zionist policy. In doing so, these intellectuals have explicitly or implicitly accepted the discourse of the clash of civilisations, which is basically a racist one, although it uses cultural relativity rather than biology. Such simplification makes it easier to mobilise the masses against an external enemy, or against internal enemies suspected of collaboration with outsiders. By doing so, one can turn the domestic scene into one of conflict between nationalists and collaborators. As a result, the actual conflicts in Arab society, the actual differences over social justice, equality, and civic rights, would be overruled, pending the outcome of the result of the conflict with the foreign enemy. And, the true issues of Arab people, such as the issue of the Iraqis versus Saddam, would be pushed aside. The definition of identity as something opposed to the outside world, as a negation of something else, is the last resort of nationalist and Islamist forces that have no political and national project of their own, and have no desire to formulate one. Policies based on identity issues are only justified occasionally, as when an ethnic minority is coming under systematic threats. Even then, these identity-enhancing policies must proceed with caution, to avoid domestic disturbance or the rise of demagogues hoping to benefit from the issue. The discourse of identity does not help us in the face of US policy, because it fails to draw the line between policies and their underlying motives. It also makes it harder to address the existing contradictions in US and Western societies, for it lumps them together, reduces them to official policies, sees them as an indivisible whole. This was particularly evident during the war on Iraq, when some people failed to draw the line between true opposition to Saddam within Iraq and collaboration with America, or for that matter between fact and wishful thinking. They jettisoned what they knew about Iraq, a country that has lived under international sanctions for 13 years, and chose instead to believe Al-Sahhaf's fantastical claims. After the fall, they took solace in conspiracy theories and charges of treason within the Iraqi army. Another group of people saw things differently. For them, the collapse of the Iraqi regime was an opportunity to question things that have nothing to do with the Iraqi regime. They questioned the Arab identity of Iraq, doubted the validity of Arab nationalism, claimed that nationalism and democracy were incompatible, and glamourised US victory against Iraq. I am not speaking of pro-American undemocratic regimes gloating over the fate of anti-American democratic regimes, nor am I referring to regimes pleased with the predicament of anti-war activists. What I need to highlight is a cultural climate in which people who may have pragmatic and realistic -- even democratic and enlightened -- concerns, people who have nothing but contempt for Arab regimes, attempt to persuade the United States to take a more critical view of Arab regimes. The general attitude of such people -- who have no genuine political organisation and do not represent currents that can provide political alternatives -- is to see every Arab defeat as a vindication of their own view. None of them participated in envisioning the goals of the campaign against Iraq, nor do they have clear political programmes or goals to start with. Their only achievement is one of retroactive interpretation. In hindsight, they advise us to stop opposing the United States and find a way instead of communicating with the Americans. These people are not seeking serious debate with the United States as a state and country. That would have been a commendable pursuit. Instead, there are subtle signs that they are taking orders from the Pentagon and the White House. They are unable to put forward a nationalist democratic programme and back it with a political organisation. Ultimately, their positions are harmful to democracy. In public perception, they come across as people who condone aggression against Iraq and who accept unjustified defeat in Palestine. In fact, these people have much in common with the regimes they oppose, for they see the existing regimes as less threatening than the totalitarian tendencies that have gained currency among the masses.
