Hassan Nafaa* picks apart Fouad Ajami's case for a war against Iraq Two decades ago a heated controversy erupted in the Arab world over the relationship between intellectuals and ruling authorities. In the course of the debate, some participants proclaimed the need to "bridge the gap" between the two parties -- the "thinker" and the "prince". Proponents of this goal argued that it would be advantageous to both sides: for the intellectual it would keep wolves of hunger and fear at bay, while the prince would feel secure from the spectres of intrigue and revolution. Some intellectuals were against it, maintaining that they should dedicate themselves solely to the pursuit of truth and guiding society on the basis of their discoveries. It soon transpired that some of the more astute participants discovered that the entire debate was founded on a false premise. The Arab prince was not in control of his fate, they pointed out, but rather a mere servant in the court of his American master. The problematic, therefore, had to be recast in terms of its actual parties: the Arab intellectual and the American prince. Fouad Ajami was one of those to hit upon that simple truth, and set off in search of a place that would bring him into direct contact with the true prince. Fouad Ajami, director of the Middle Studies Department at Johns Hopkins University, is a unique and dissonant, phenomenon among Arab-American intellectuals. Contrary to most of these, who try to remain true to their ethnic and cultural origins and seek to influence US society through association with moderate political circles, Ajami hitched his star to the American ultra- right -- the camp most closely linked to the Zionist influence and most hostile to Arabs and Muslims. I have read much of what Ajami has written, and while I take great exception to his views, I cannot help but admire both his keen intellect and the lucidity of his prose. I have also had the pleasure of meeting him on two occasions and found him to be considerate, warm and exuberant. However, I also found he was ever more determined to shed his Arab skin and look at others, including the Arabs, through a condescending American eye. It was not, however, until I read his recent article in Foreign Affairs (January-February 2003) that it struck me just how far he had gone in this direction. In "Iraq and the Arabs" Ajami lends himself wholeheartedly to the American ultra-right's campaign to promote their project of a military strike against Iraq. As a prominent intellectual of Arab origin, his contribution must have been heartily welcomed. Certainly, its appearance could not have been more appropriately timed. Nevertheless, from the outset he seemed determined to forestall the accusation that he was in the pocket of the American prince. He presents himself as an Arab with a sacred cause: the Americans should go to war against Iraq -- to save the Arabs from themselves! Not that I felt for a moment that Ajami speaks as an Arab keen to rescue the Arab peoples from the iniquities of their rulers. His is a thoroughly American tongue, voicing an unshakable faith in America's cultural supremacy, which both entitles and compels it to assume the mission of civilising the downtrodden people of the earth, beginning with the Arabs. Ajami is fully convinced that war against Iraq is necessary and desirable. Why? Because the conflict between Arab despots and their peoples has become an American problem, now that the frustration and mounting anger of Arab youth whose regimes have failed to educate and employ them has turned itself, explosively, against the US. Unable to dent those powerfully entrenched regimes at home, insurgents lashed out at the head instead of the tail, and unleashed the full venom of their wrath against New York and Washington on 11 September. Why was America "the next best thing"? Because "the great power was an easier target: it was more open, more trusting, and its liberties more easily subverted by a band of jihadists." Ajami was simultaneously keen to reassure the US administration that it had no cause to shirk this noble undertaking. "In the main... the ruling order in the Arab world will duck for cover and hope to be spared. Rather than Desert Storm, the Arab rulers will want the perfect storm: a swift war, few casualties, as little exposure as possible, and the opportunity to be rid of Saddam without riding in broad daylight with the Americans or being brought to account by their people." The people, meanwhile, have every reason to react positively to a war that will usher in modernisation: "In the end, the battle for a secular, modernist order in the Arab world is an endeavour for the Arabs themselves. But power matters, and a great power's will and prestige can help tip the scales in favour of modernity and change," Ajami writes. As to why Iraq should have the honour of being singled out as the starting point for this process, Ajami has his answer ready. Iraq possesses all the necessary ingredients for economic development and it has the diversity of demographic composition that should render it more open to democracy and plurality than any other Arab country of similar size and importance. The US must, therefore, cast aside its revulsion for "nation- building", summon up the resolve to topple Saddam's dictatorship and initiate a process that would capitalise on Iraq's immense potential and transform it into a model of a modern, democratic, pluralistic society. This will then set into motion the wheels of modernisation in the rest of the Arab world. Ajami is not oblivious to the many pitfalls that await the US in its pursuit of this holy mission. However, like a warrior who has unsheathed his sword, he urges the administration forward, girded by its determination not to listen to the doubters and waverers. "Any fallout of war is certain to be dwarfed by the terrible consequences of America's walking right up to the edge of war and then stepping back, letting the Iraqi dictator work out the terms of another reprieve. It is the fate of great powers that provide order to do so against the background of a world that takes the protection while it bemoans the heavy hand of the protector." I was struck by the fact that Ajami, in his article, made no reference to the questions of Iraq's weapons of mass destruction or its alleged link with Al- Qa'eda, in spite of their centrality to the US's campaign to market a war against Iraq. This, I believe, was no accidental oversight. Ajami knows full well that Iraq is guilty of neither, and the US is only using these issues, substantiated by actual or concocted evidence, to justify war. If Ajami makes it abundantly clear how much he wants a war against Iraq, he does not want a war with limited objectives, even if the objectives are to rid Iraq of weapons of mass destruction or to topple its regime, after which the US departs the scene. This time, the US must go into Iraq and stay because of the noble modernising mission it has to fulfil there. How cleverly Ajami constructs the argument for the imperative of US military intervention. The problem is not a corrupt or recalcitrant regime that must be changed, because there are countless such regimes in the world today. Instead, he casts the "causus belli" as a form of enlightened self-defence. Arab culture has evolved into a massive incubator of the twin evils of terrorism and despotism. Although they originally targeted the existing Arab regimes, the terrorists bred by that culture had the US in their sights, and the regimes, moreover, eager to have the pent up anger at home directed elsewhere, were giving them a nudge and wink in that direction. On the basis of this fundamentally perverse reading of reality, Ajami maintains that the US has the right to respond to the open declaration of war against it by terrorism through an equally open and declared war against all those who created and nurtured the problem. It will be pointless, here, to take Ajami up on the extent to which the Arab world needs to undergo a process of modernisation. No one takes issue with the necessity of such a process. Nor did the issue suddenly appear following 11 September, but had rather been the subject of concern and considerable contributions by Arab intellectuals for two centuries. What we do take exception to, however, are venom-laced terms he uses to thrill anti-Arab and anti-Muslim sympathies in the West and which betray a profound loathing for Arab culture in general and not merely certain negative aspects of that culture. He talks of a "furious Islamism" that "blew in like a deadly wind" from a "stubborn" world where there is an "Arab political and economic tradition and a culture whose agonies and failures have been on cruel display". He talks of a prevalent wrath, estrangement and ingratitude toward America in that world where the lure of the "deadly legends of Arabism" and "crippling sectarian atavisms" wrought its own "economic and political retrogression". This, he continues, "is a difficult, perhaps impossible, political landscape. It may reject the message of reform by dwelling on the sins of the American messenger." Ajami could perfectly well have made his point without resorting to such gross generalisations. Blinkered as he is by his infatuation with what he regards as the world's most open and transparent society, he has readily subordinated his views on the Arab world to his own personal and political agenda, at the expense, some might contend, of his academic integrity. Although we agree that modernisation is the Arab world's only avenue to redemption, with the proviso that the meaning and substance of modernism and the conditions for its success in the Arab world are still open for debate, we cannot agree that the US sincerely seeks to modernise the Arab world and that a war in Iraq offers a natural starting point for this process. Such an assertion is unfounded empirically and unjustifiable morally and legally. Here, precisely, lies the weak point in his analyses. Ajami could not have written this article had he been as thoroughly versed in the methods of conducting international relations, in general, and America's conduct of its foreign policy in particular, as he is in the history of Arab political thought and culture. For this article to possess a minimum of scholastic credibility it would have to meet three conditions. It would have to establish, firstly, that American political culture embodies the humanitarian values it professes and can serve as a model that should be emulated and is transferable to other societies. Secondly, it would have to demonstrate that the documented behaviour of US foreign policy has been consistently inspired by, and conformed to, the value system US political culture espouses, especially with regards to democracy and human rights. Thirdly, it would have to demonstrate that Washington's declared objectives towards Iraq are in fact its true objectives and that these objectives are understood and accepted by the international community and conform to the strictures of international legitimacy. As these criteria simply do not exist, Ajami's article does not stand up to the criteria of sound academic analysis and his entire argument collapses. The distinction between the material traits of the American model, founded on unprecedented sources of material might, and its moral traits, consisting of its culturally specific values, is an essential key to understanding how America operates abroad. However, Ajami deliberately obscures this distinction in an attempt to suggest that the dynamism and democracy of the political system inside the US must inevitably be reflected in America's behaviour abroad. Nothing could be further from the truth. The US wields its material power to serve its own selfish interests -- not for humanitarian goals. It is similarly possible to refute Ajami's claim that Arab culture thrives on and promotes despotism and tyranny and is thus intrinsically resistant to democratisation, which is a prerequisite for modernisation and progress. Although there admittedly exist in the Arab world certain cultural values and traditions that inhibit its progress, the discerning scholar can easily conclude that such outmoded values and traditions are a byproduct of underdevelopment -- not a cause. In addition, that they also exist in most other developing countries indicates that they are not specifically intrinsic to Arab culture. Even supposing that the American experience could somehow overcome all its historical defects and attain a degree of maturity that render its prevalent value system worth emulating, the value of a model resides precisely in its ability to inspire others. The entire history of traditional colonialism offers a succinct and bleak lesson in the practicalities of aggressive civilising missions. For decades, and in some cases centuries, colonial powers subjected the peoples of three continents by force of arms, not by the strength of the banners of enlightenment and modernisation with which they deluded the subjugated peoples. In the end, colonialism gave rise to societies that were economically, politically and socially distorted and unstable. Indeed, in many instances, European colonialism obstructed the prospects of an authentic, domestically generated democratic transformation. Egypt is the perfect case in point. Were it not for British intervention to rescue the Khedive Tawfiq from a people demanding greater participation in political life and a genuine parliamentary system, democracy in Egypt could have evolved and flourished autonomously. One could argue that the US has never practiced traditional colonialism itself and that, moreover, it, too, suffered from this phenomenon and understands what it means to fight for independence and freedom. While this is true, its imperialist ambitions have driven it to the trench opposing those peoples now aspiring to freedom and development. Therefore, the question of America's relationship with the Arab and Islamic world, and with Iraq in particular, must be placed within the greater framework of America's vision of itself and its role in the world and of how other peoples view America. The history of America's relationship with the world and the Third World in particular is riddled with its bids to dominate and control. Certainly, no impartial observer could hold that America was a stabilising factor or catalyst for progress for its fellow nations and peoples in the Western hemisphere, and it was hardly a coincidence that radical, anti-American political movements spread like wildfire throughout the whole of Latin America. This phenomenon cannot be chalked up to Soviet inspired anti-American agitation, alone, since anti-American sympathies existed both before and after the Cold War. Rather, the US consistently sided against those nationalist forces that espoused democracy, progress and modernisation. The US has an equally ignoble track record for propping up unpopular dictatorships elsewhere in the world: in Vietnam, the Philippines and Iran, to name a few. America's relations with the Arab world are no exception to the pattern. It consistently sided with reactionary forces against the forces of modernisation, with military regimes and despotism against liberal or quasi-liberal systems. In Egypt, Washington was one of the first nations to recognise the coup that overthrew the monarchy in 1952 and soon abolished the multi-party system. When, however, it realised that the new regime was not going to be one of those tractable South American juntas, that, instead, the coup had evolved into a fully- fledged social and political revolution with a programme for independence and modernisation, the US quickly withdrew its offer to fund the High Dam, Egypt's largest development project in its modern history. Later, when the US restored relations with Egypt and put its weight behind El-Sadat, its change of heart was not due to its joyous embrace of the liberalising orientation of that regime, but because it had just signed a peace treaty with Israel. In Saudi Arabia the US threw its weight behind the forces of tradition, in Yemen behind the monarchy and its mediaeval value system. Nor is it an exaggeration to contend that the US, directly and indirectly, abetted the rise of Islamic fundamentalist movements through its support of conservative Islam against radical Arab nationalism and its use of radical Islamism against the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan. America's part in the rise of the phenomenon of Bin Laden and Al-Qa'eda is a matter of historical record. However, Washington's relationship with the regime of Saddam Hussein, the most pernicious the world over, is the ultimate proof that US foreign policy has never been informed by anything but the most temporal and self- serving considerations. Saddam's has always been a supremely fascist dictatorship and the US knew that from the outset. Nevertheless, it turned a blind eye to this reality and actively encouraged that regime to fight the Islamic revolution in Iran. Moreover, many reports indicate that most of the material used to manufacture Iraq's weapons of mass destruction were originally obtained from US sources and when Iraq used these weapons against Iran and against the Kurds Washington remained silent. Perhaps Ajami will grant that America's foreign policy record in this region offers little basis for hopes that it will suddenly back the forces of modernism, liberalism and democratisation. Indeed, he briefly insinuates this, but simultaneously asserts that US foreign policy has changed after 11 September. We couldn't agree more. It has changed, but not necessarily in the right direction. If the Arab world is already deeply suspicious of Washington's intentions because of its absolute and unwavering support for Israel, it has more concrete reasons to doubt the sincerity of its reforming resolve. Firstly, the current ultra-conservative administration is not particularly attached to the principles of democracy and liberalism, and even less so given its security fixation in connection with the bugbear of political Islam, an obsession that perhaps outstrips the anti-communist paranoia of previous administrations. Secondly, the determination of this administration to secure the cornerstones of US globalisation and to corral recalcitrant nations into obedience to the American master appears far greater than its concern for spreading democracy and modernisation. Indicative of this is its resolve to solve the Iraqi crisis outside the framework, and perhaps on the ruins, of international legitimacy. The US delivered one of the most damaging blows to international legitimacy in the wake of the Cold War. With the collapse of the Soviet Union, the US had the perfect opportunity to rebuild international institutions on new foundations. Instead, driven by its lust for power, it seized upon the Iraqi crisis of 1990 to deliberately marginalise the UN. Its masterstroke was to secure the Security Council resolution conferring upon it a mandate to form an international alliance and to use military force. With this resolution, the US assumed the Security Council's powers to declare war or peace and it is therefore not surprising that the US single- handedly controlled the course of the war against Iraq in 1991, set the conditions of the cease-fire (which compelled the Security Council to pass resolution 687 imposing on Iraq the harshest sanctions in the history of the UN) and, without deferring to the Security Council, imposed no-fly zones on Iraq. Less than a decade later, the handling of the Iraqi crisis fell prey to the whims of that ultra-conservative administration that reached power through one of the oddest elections in American history. It was this administration's vision for America's global role, rather than any noteworthy change in the behaviour of the Iraqi regime, that set it on the war path against Iraq -- a drive that grew more zealous after it failed to realise the goals it had set out to accomplish in the military campaign against Afghanistan. The US is pushing for an action that many believe is neither just, legal or moral. Many further believe that the US will go to war regardless of whether or not Iraq complies with the international weapons inspectors and whether or not they find evidence of weapons of mass destruction. They suspect that the current administration has a hidden agenda that differs fundamentally from its declared purpose for going to war. Does Ajami's article hint at what such an agenda might be? In connection with why Iraq might be a suitable starting place for an American-steered reform of the region, Ajami lashes out at the regime's dominant ideology: "The pan-Arabism that has played upon Iraq and infected its political life has been a terrible simplification of that checkered country's history, a whip in the hands of a [Sunni] minority bent on dominating the polity and dispossessing the other communities of their rightful claims." "Sacking" the Saddam regime to allow for the creation of a new polity in which all sectarian factions can participate would deliver Iraq, and ultimately the rest of the Arab world, from the "ruinous temptation" of "the deadly legends of Arabism", offering them "a chance to rethink the role of political power and the very nature of the state". Not only might a new regime in Iraq be willing to "bid farewell to virulent pan-Arabism", a new Iraqi political order "might find within itself the ability to recognise that Palestine and the Palestinians are not an Iraqi concern". What makes him so confident in this assertion is that a new political arrangement will empower Iraqi Kurds and Shi'a, "and neither population owes fidelity to the pieties of Arabism". He continues: "The Iraqi Kurds owe the Arab world little. The Iraqi opposition's solitude in the wider politics of the Arab World has been deep and searing. Saddam's opponents have had no Egyptian or Saudi sponsorship, nor have the Arab nationalists or 'the street' embraced them. They have worked alone from London and Iran, and more recently, with American patronage. They are free to fashion a world with relative indifference to Arab claims." These previous selections are sufficient to underscore the dangerous ideas Ajami hopes to market and simultaneously reveal America's agenda for the region. A strike against Iraq and the founding of a new regime would not only work to disassociate Iraq from the Palestinian cause, it would weaken its very allegiance to the Arab world. Regardless of whether Ajami is trying to sell his ideas to the US administration or whether the latter has engaged Ajami to market them, we are left with the question: Is the product being marketed -- war against Iraq for a noble cause -- reliable or defective? * The writer is head of the department of political science at Cairo University.
