arab countries

Diagnosing the Middle East’s ills

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By Osama Diab

Author and journalist Brian Whitaker diagnoses the Arab world’s problems.

18 January 2010

When debate opens up on the problems in the Middle East, finger pointing is the first weapon in the argument. Whether it is Middle Easterners blaming contemporary problems on centuries of Western interference or the West focusing on authoritarian regimes and militant religion, the source of problems in the region can always be found in one place: somebody else’s lap.

Brian Whitaker sums this up succinctly in the first sentence of his book What’s really wrong with the Middle East: “The problems of the Middle East are always someone else’s fault.”

Whitaker should know: he spent seven years as the Middle East editor at British daily The Guardian and holds a degree in Arabic from the University of Westminster. Whitaker utilises his depth of experience in the region to diagnose the problems that plague it, conducting a series of unstructured interviews with a kaleidoscope of people to pinpoint what he believes to be the Middle East’s key problems. But don’t expect the book to be an author’s sermon on the ills of the region. What’s really wrong with the Middle East cedes the pulpit to Whitaker’s interviewees.

“I deliberately chose not to interview politicians or any of the talking heads favoured by visiting journalists,” Whitaker tells Egypt Today, adding that the people he talked to were not selected according to any agenda. “They were mostly people I had come across in the course of my work who seemed to have interesting things to say. I tried to let them shape the interviews as much as possible. I didn’t have a fixed set of questions or anything like that. I gave them a list of 10 statements — about politics, oil, the media, corruption, etc. — and asked them to choose those they wanted to talk about.”

Whitaker divides the book into nine chapters, each tackling one topic that, in his opinion, hinders reform. For example, the first chapter explains how education in the Middle East is designed to discourage free and critical thinking. Instead, it encourages “thinking inside the box” and is used by regimes to maintain power. The book moves on to explain how power is inherited and is usually driven from the father’s power. In chapter three, there is a discussion of the distance between Arab governments and their citizens, as well as the often-negative perception the public has of governments.

Although Whitaker emphasises that regime change will not immediately solve the problems of Arab countries, he spares no criticism of the region’s governments. He sees power in the region as an almost genetic inheritance that engenders all manners of nepotism, bribery and administrative corruption.

However, in Whitaker’s mind, Arab countries are more than simply repressive political regimes. Deep faults in civil society, he posits, are doing just as much damage to the region as the regimes that manage it.

“What I’m saying in the book is that the problem is a lot more complex and you have to look at Arab society as a whole, not just the regimes,” he explains. “It does mean there are no quick fixes. I’m sorry about that, but to pretend otherwise would just be deceiving ourselves.”

Whitaker similarly takes to task the censorship of the press and the internet, the lack of political expression in Arab countries, discrimination, resistance to globalization and the lack of openness to other cultures fostered in this climate.

With emphasis on interviews and real-life stories, supplemented with studies and comments from experts, What’s really wrong with the Middle East reads more like an in-depth feature article than a textbook survey of the region. “I wanted to give it a different flavour from most books about the Middle East,” says Whitaker, “so I decided to use Arab sources wherever possible — things that Arabs had written or said, but preferably available in English so that Western readers could explore them in more detail if they wanted to.”

The book took Whitaker more than a year and a half to compile and write, due in part to the legwork he felt was necessary. “To stop it from becoming too dry and academic, I wanted to include some face-to-face interviews,” he explains. “I made trips to Egypt, Jordan and Lebanon, as well as to France, Belgium and the Netherlands especially for that.”

Whitaker’s objectives in writing the book were two-fold. First, he believed that debate in the West about Arab countries and the problems plaguing them was ill-informed — especially in the United States during the Bush presidency.

“I wanted to give a more complete picture,” Whitaker says, “one that delves beyond the usual issues such as terrorism and dictatorship into areas that are less often talked about: authoritarianism within the family, corruption, social discrimination, the pressure to conform and not think outside the box.”

His other objective was to confront the culture of denial in Arab countries. “If the problems are acknowledged at all, they are usually blamed on outsiders,” he says. “Western countries certainly bear some responsibility, but that’s no excuse for Arabs to sit back and do nothing. At some point they’ll have to say: ‘OK, we’re in a mess. How are we going to get out of it?’”

In the book, Whitaker points to how the invasion of Iraq highlights the West’s belief that overthrowing tyrants is a silver bullet to address the region’s woes. He finds that ousting authoritarian regimes is not a panacea for the region as a whole. The book implies that authoritarianism exists in schools, colleges, families and the workplace, and overthrowing regimes will not and cannot instantly change that. The thread Whitaker weaves throughout the book is that political change and democracy cannot happen unless preceded by social change.

While the title implies that someone — maybe Whitaker — holds all the answers, the author’s real conclusion is that there are no quick fixes for the region’s ills.

Despite his challenging observations, Whitaker believes strongly that progress is being made: “Arab society is definitely changing, if only slowly at the moment. But the more it changes, the more it is likely to change. And I think the forces driving that change — globalization, satellite TV, the internet, foreign travel and so on — are virtually unstoppable in the long term, even if there are setbacks along the way.”

This review first appeared in the January 2010 edition of Egypt Today. Republished here with the author's consent. ©Osama Diab. All rights reserved.

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Forecast: dry, becoming drier

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By Khaled Diab

There’s more than enough fresh water in the world to sate our thirst. The problem is getting it to where it is desperately needed.

September 2008

With the depressing torrential rain and flooding at the weekend, water shortages are the last thing on our minds here in these wet, northern climes. In fact, perhaps we need a collective ‘sun dance’ to implore the powers that be to deliver us an ‘Indian summer’.

Despite the misery, we are fortunate, as more and more areas in the world are beset by water shortages. Over the past week alone, the water table in the Pakistani capital Islamabad has fallen to dangerous levels (a common problem across the subcontinent), Kyrgyzstan has cut electricity production to save water, and Californian farmers have complained of lower yields due to water rationing.

The Middle East and North Africa, the driest population centre on the planet, is particularly vulnerable to water shortages. According to the International Water Management Institute, every country in the MENA region suffers from physical water scarcity or is approaching it.

Yemen – fabled for the fertile ancient kingdoms of Arabia Felix – is expected to be the first country in the region to deplete its ground water.

The Sea of Galilee in Israel has reached the lowest levels ever recorded, with fears that, if the government continues to pump it at current rates, the country’s main fresh water reservoir could reach the point of no return.

And the situation is likely to deteriorate, if climate change models prove to be accurate. Earlier this year, the UN released a report estimating that a 3-4°C rise in temperatures could lead to a drop of up to 35% in agricultural output. However, more localised analysis by an Australian scientists suggests that some parts of the region, such as Iraq, may see more rainfall.

Nevertheless, the forecast looks dry for the Middle East. In addition, with around 730 million people, including in the EU, expected to rise to 1.8 billion by 2050, in the world living with water shortages, the future looks bleak.

Not, necessarily, says Jonathan Chenoweth of the Centre for Environmental Strategy. “I believe the looming water crisis is primarily a problem of distribution and management rather than supply,” he wrote in a recent New Scientist article.

In addition to water efficiency and desalination technologies, the major pillar of his strategy would be for arid and semi-arid countries to import “virtual water” in the form of food because agriculture consumes some 90% of water supplies. These countries would shift to less water-intensive sectors, such as trade and services.

Although largely unspoken, this is the direction in which the Middle East has been heading for decades. In fact, the term virtual water was probably coined by Tony Allan of SOAS in reference to the region. Without it, the region may have suffered severe famines by now. For instance, Egypt, with some of the most productive land in the world, imports more than half of its food owing to water shortages and population growth.

Soon-to-be-published research carried out by Chenoweth suggests that “by importing virtual water, a country could offer a high quality of life with as little as 135 litres of water per person per day”.

While this theory is promising at certain levels, it seems to overlook some crucial issues. While the more developed Middle Eastern countries with a smaller population, such as Israel, Lebanon and Dubai are successfully shifting their economies towards trade and service, it is difficult to see how many others will be able to reduce their economic dependence on agriculture and manufacturing.

Egypt, for instance, has a large educated population and its economy has a robust and rapidly growing service sector, including IT. Nevertheless, agriculture accounts for 14% of the country’s GDP and employs a quarter of the labour force. In addition, cash crops and cotton textiles and clothes are among Egypt’s main exports. Moreover, other large sectors of the economy, such as steel, manufacturing and chemicals are heavy water users.

If Egypt, a middle income, relatively developed country has such difficulty shifting its economy towards water-light sectors, what of less-developed countries? Sudan, for instance, overall has abundant water supplies, yet it is unable even to meet food shortages within its own border. The situation is even worse in Ethiopia where I personally witnessed UN food aid being distributed only miles away from the source of the Blue Nile, Lake Tana.

What Chenoweth’s analysis also seems to overlook or understate is that water-rich regions may have an abundance of water but they are already sailing pretty close to the wind in terms of food output. While growth in Middle Eastern agriculture is crippled by the absence of water, it is highly unlikely that largely temperate regions, such as the EU, will be able to translate their water abundance into significantly higher agricultural production, since most of their arable land is already in use.

The current food crisis may be an early indication that we are slowly approaching an agricultural ceiling. In addition, the energy crunch suggests that the kind of globalisation of trade required to shift virtual water effectively may be unsustainable.

Then, there’s the issue of food security. How can countries dependent on virtual water ensure a sufficient flow of food to sustain their populations? What if a more severe crisis in the future forces major food exporters to cut off exports? Alternatively, if wealthy and arid countries, such as the Gulf States, buy up large tracts of farm land in poor countries to ensure their food security, this will help these countries to boost their agricultural output and develop their economies. But we could also be looking at future artificial famines rather like the Irish potato famine which, interestingly, prompted the Ottoman sultan and native Americans to send humanitarian aid to Ireland.

If virtual water is to be successful in feeding the world, we need robust and effective international mechanisms to ensure that this redistribution is implemented equitably and that neither suppliers nor recipients go hungry in lean years. In addition, development programmes in poorer arid countries will need to find ways of reducing dependency on sparse local water resources and controlling population growth.

 

This column appeared in The Guardian Unlimited’s Comment is Free section on 9 September 2008. Read the related discussion.

This is an archive piece that was migrated to this website from Diabolic Digest

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