Marc Lynch's blog

 Obviously a lot happening today, but don't have time to comment at great length because the Elliott School is hosting Nir Barkat, the mayor of Jersualem, in about 45 minutes.  Since there have been protests over at least some of his previous appearances in the U.S., it may be an exciting morning on E Street.  But since I've been asked to comment about Mahmoud Abbas saying that he won't seek re-election, here's a super-quick take: 

I don't have much to add to what I wrote last week, before people started paying attention: if he's serious, then it isn't necessarily a disaster. It could shake up a failing process on autopilot, it could offer the chance to finally renew Palestinian leadership, and it could offer a way for the Gaza-West Bank, Fatah-Hamas standoff to be defused.  Nothing has changed in the last week to make me change my mind on those basic points. 

 Most of the Palestinian and Arab commentary I've seen since his announcement falls into three basic trends:  the first thinks he's bluffing, attempting to leverage his weakness into pressure on the U.S. and Israel; the second thinks it's irrelevant, because the elections will not actually be held in January; and the third is cheering his  departure, and hoping that it will lead to a collective admission that the PA's strategy has failed.  The three perspectives are obviously not mutually exclusive.  When I asked leading Palestinian academic Salim Tamari yesterday about the impact it would have on the peace process, he just looked at me quizically and said "what peace process?"

 There's been a collective moment of clarity over the last week about the disastrous course of the attempt to get to serious peace talks between Israel and the Palestinians.  Hillary Clinton's comments about the Israeli "unprecedented" positions and the prospect of starting talks without a settlement freeze have thrown people into paroxysms of premature  postmortems. I don't think her comments actually changed very much -- the dynamic was bad before she came to the region, it's still bad. At least now maybe the shock of this sudden view of the abyss will concentrate people's minds and get them to try something new.  

This all gets back to the basic point I've been harping on for months (for instance in the CAP report I co-authored with Brian Katulis in the early summer):  the administration has lacked a viable strategy for, or an adequate appreciation of, intra-Palestinian politics and the implications of the deep structural weakness of the Palestinian Authority.  Now, perhaps, they'll have to get it.  There's no viable path forward which doesn't include alleviating the blockade of Gaza and reunifying it politically with the West Bank, and no serious prospect that the institutions of the Palestinian Authority can be built up along Salam Fayyad's model without also dealing seriously with the political horizon of peace talks aimed at rapidly achieving a two state solution.   The settlement freeze demand, which is being blamed wrongly for the current problems, was not a luxury -- it was essential for the Palestinian political track.  And now that track needs a serious American re-think. 

 More later. 

 Egyptian opposition politician Ayman Nour said today that state security forces prevented him from flying to the United States.  Since finally being released from prison, where he had been placed on trumped-up charges after losing the 2005 Presidential election to Hosni Mubarak, Nour has faced recurrent harrassment and abuse.  He recently signed on to the broad campaign to oppose Gamal Mubarak's succession to his father's position as President. 

 The Reuters article mentions that Nour was scheduled to speak at the Council on Foreign Relations in New York.   He was also scheduled to speak, at my invitation, here at the Elliott School next Friday (November 13) on the topic of "democracy in Egypt."  I certainly hope that the Egyptian authorities change their mind in time to allow him to travel to the United States and share his views on that subject.

I gave the opening keynote talk to two fascinating conferences this week organized by State Department, which sought to take stock of what might be called the "hearts and minds" part of the struggle against al-Qaeda and associated movements.  Since the events were off the record, I really can't talk about the deliberations themselves, unfortunately, or even who was there. But, with the permission of the organizers, I thought it might be interesting to just put out there my own overall sense of the good news and the bad news, and to pose ten big questions which deserve some serious thought.  (And sorry, I'm not going to go back in and insert links right now.. I'm exhausted enough.)

 First, the good news.  I think that Obama's initial approach has been outstanding, reframing America's relationship with the Muslim world around a broader lens than terrorism.  His personal public diplomacy has achieved its initial goal:  a fresh start, a new conceptual frame, and a serious engagement based on "mutual respect and mutual interests."   His approach resolutely undermines al-Qaeda's efforts to impose a binary "West vs Islam" clash of civilizations narrative, and very effectively disaggregates the problem and marginalizes al-Qaeda. He also has taken seriously the political grievances which make the al-Qaeda narrative attractive to average Arabs and Muslims who don't share its radical ideology-- pledging withdrawal from Iraq, promising to close Guantanamo, engaging on the Israeli-Palestinian front.

 And this has paid off in the real world.  As I've argued several times recently, al-Qaeda is more marginal than it has been since 9/11 (at least in the Arab world -- this may be different in South Asia or Europe, where I pay less close attention). It has simply lost its ability to present itself as the avatar of generic resistance.  Al-Qaeda thrives on, indeed requires, a polarized environment in which its radical strategy represents one side of an all-consuming clash of civilizations.  Much of the Bush administration's approach to the "GWOT" gave it just what it needed;  it got better towards the end of his second term, and Obama has built upon and greatly accelerated the progress. 

 It's worth remembering that mostly, they did it to themselves (with some help from their adversaries, of course).  They haven't carried out the big attacks on the U.S., thankfully.  What their affiliates could do were local "soft target" attacks in Arab countries which killed Muslims and deeply alienated mainstream Arabs who might have thrilled to attacks on U.S. troops occupying Iraq.  It now faces an almost universally hostile Arab mass media and a daunting gallery of enemies -- not just America's allied governments but also the Muslim Brotherhood, Hamas, Hezbollah, and more.  Internal critiques of its tactics are everywhere, and magnified by this hostile Arab media, while the movement itself grew more doctrinally pure. Its videos get little traction and have little impact on Arab public debate.  Its like-minded movements have failed to gain a foothold in Gaza and Lebanon, and it continues to suffer the effects of their strategy in Iraq.  And at the ideological level, Yusuf al-Qaradawi's declaration of its ideology as a mad declaration of war on the whole world has resonated. 

 This strong beginning and reoriented conceptual framework is a big part of my continuing "A-" grade for his overall foreign policy performance. 

 But there's less good news as well.  Al-Qaeda is resilient and adaptive, and even if its ideology is unpopular it still offers a potent and compelling narrative.  Bin Laden's address last month was far better crafted and resonated more widely than most recent AQ productions. The ideology has spread far enough and has matured enough that it may no longer need AQ Central for direction.  It may have failed to gain a foothold in Lebanon or Gaza, but the fact that those who share its ideology tried shows that the mobilized base is still out there searching. Yemen's descent into multiple wars has created broken space within which the previously struggling al-Qaeda in the Arabian Peninsula could reconstitute.  The general spirit of resistance (muqawima) is strong and growing at the popular level -- and, as more moderate Islamist competitors struggle with regime repression and democratic doors close, openings might be found to siphon off recruits, funds, or support. 

 And Obama's window is closing.  Arab audiences see Guantanamo still open (including in an endlessly repeating al-Jazeera promo), US troops escalating in Afghanistan, Gaza still blockaded, and no settlement freeze or peace talks between Israel and the Palestinians.  They have seen little follow-up on the ground on the Cairo address (regardless of what's been cooking secretly in Washington).  A narrative is clearly hardening that Obama has not delivered on his promises, and that he hasn't really changed American policies despite his personal appeal.  U.S. officials may complain that this is unfair, that it's only been four months since Cairo, that they are preparing a lot of programs... but the world isn't fair.  This window isn't closed yet, but it's closing fast and opinions appear to be hardening.   I don't think that the risk here is that al-Qaeda will take advantage of it, given its weakened state -- in fact, Secretary Gates made an uncharacteristic mistake when he lapsed back to the Bush-era argument that we had to win in Afghanistan because otherwise al-Qaeda would capitalize.  It's more that the mobilized Arab and Muslim publics which Obama hoped to win over will be lost. 

 So with that background, here are ten questions worth thinking about for those interested in these issues, especially professionals in the area. I'm not including a number of more specifically focused points about strategic communications and public engagement which I'm writing about elsewhere.

1. What replaces the GWOT?  There is not yet a clear intellectual frame to replace the unmourned Global War on Terror.  I find myself often saying "what used to be called the GWOT."  If it isn't GWOT, what is it? "Combatting Violent Extremism (CVE)", which appears to still be the term of art, is better -- but also enormously flexible, in a bad way.  If CVE includes everything from COIN in Afghanistan to after-school programs in Birmingham, it just might be too broad.  And if that mission is defined by CVE, then isn't this just the old GWOT under a new name?  The Obama administration's conception of global engagement clearly wants to escape this trap -- helping to promote entrepreneurship, civil society, education economic change, and so on in order to build a new relationship between Muslim populataions and America rather than because it will fight terrorism.  But this is slippery, since the national security justification often ultimately comes back to terrorism, violent extremism, and those old categories.  So I can see how USAID, for instance, can pitch what it is doing as a contribution to CVE.  But what then is not CVE? 
2. What does the definition of CVE mean for the “whole of government” approach which is all the rage these days?  Everyone these days wants to see development agencies, domestic agencies, intelligence, public diplomacy, the State Department, the military and everyone else all integrated into a coherent whole of government approach to problems.   But who defines the mission?  Since budgets seem likely to remain skewed sharply in the Pentagon's favor for the forseeable future, that isn't hard to guess.  So is this just pressing other agencies into the service of a mission defined by the Pentagon, or does their inclusion actually change the mission?   How much progress has been made in restructuring the government, coordinating inter-agency activities, and sorting out responsibliities and authorities?   Can the NSC play the leadership role required to balance this out? 
3. Is it time to abandon the "war of ideas"? We've spent so much time and effort over the last eight years fretting about how to fight AQ's ideas and how to promote moderate Islam.  We should know by now that we (as a government) are really bad at trying to intervene in intra-Muslim debates.  Is it necessary?  Does it even help?  How much?  For instance, if the goal is to discredit the use of violence against civilians -- a good goal -- then it may make more sense to try and drive the kind of societal normative change which delegitimized smoking or child pornography (something about which people with a wide range of different ideas can agree) than to try to promote particular religious "ideas".  More broadly, the "resistance"  which I mentioned above is generally non-ideological, rooted far more in perceived political grievances than in the nuances of Islamist ideology.  What may have been useful in delegitimizing a marginal, radical ideology may have little relevance for responding to a mass-based, political, non-ideological oppositional trend.  But there are nearly a decade now of organizational competencies, budgets, and constituencies for the "war of ideas" -- which won't soon go away.  Are they still playing an appropriate role in the new strategy? 
4. Does AQ Central matter?   The perennial debate over whether to think about al-Qaeda as a centrally directed organization or as a loosely connected network of like-minded individuals and groups continues.  It will not likely be resolved, since there are elements of both going on.    But for designing CVE strategy, it clearly does matter whether you think that AQC is the key.  So to make this as blunt as possible:  would killing bin Laden, Zawahiri, and the remnants of AQC --- which seems more plausible in the coming months and years -- decisively end, or even decisively transform, the nature of the struggle?  
5. What to do with non-violent Islamist groups? The argument over how to classify different organizations, movements, and individuals has been going on for years.  While the conceptual understanding of intra-Muslim nuance has grown dramatically over the years, it's not clear to me that clear decisions have been made.  Are non-violent Islamists useful because they embrace demcracy, eschew violence, and compete with AQ for recruits and space, or dangerous because they oppose US foreign policy and spread Islamist identity and ideas?  Should they be engaged with as viable partners, tolerated but not engaged, or treated as part of the problem?  How much should this vary by local circumstance?  It's hard to construct a serious engagement strategy without an answer to this.   And, perhaps of more immediate concern:  what do we expect will happen if these organizations buckle under the weight of repression or pressure, whether in Gaza or Egypt or Jordan or elsewhere? Would this advance or set back American or Western interests, whether in CVE or more broadly?
6. Can local partners do the job?  I hear a lot of talk these days about Western governments partnering with and helping to build up local Muslim groups which can carry on the fight inside their own communities.  In general, that sounds good -- though nobody should expect that this can be done covertly without serious backlash risks, and there should be no expectations of control.   But I'm also struck by the lessons of democracy promotion and civil society building efforts over the years -- and the limits of all those partnering and capacity building efforts.  The CVE folks should learn those hard-learned lessons. In general, there are only a limited number of local partners with the capacity and willingness to deal with Western governments on these issue.  They often can't bear the weight assigned to them. They may risk their local credibility by partnering with governments.  And they may end up spending more of their time chasing the next government contract than doing the kind of community work which first made them interesting. 
7. What about human rights?  The GWOT frame tended to encourage a cavalier approach to public freedoms, human rights, and the rule of law in the name of counter-terrorism and security.  It is not clear whether the CVE frame makes the same leap.  After all, a whole of government, long-term approach to CVE should recognize the importance of legitimate, accountable, and transparent governments which deal respectfully with their citizens.  But will that in fact be the case?  The way that many Arab governments have achieved "success" has included a lot of torture, arbitrary indefinite arrest, and repression of all sorts.  Will a CVE paradigm under Obama go along with this or challenge it? 
8. Is this really a "Long War"?  We've grown used to thinking of this as a "generational struggle" -- but is it?  Does it make more sense to think of this as a transitional moment, in which al-Qaeda and its ideas could be decisively marginalized and rendered politically irrelevant? How would we know if this is a generational or transiational conflict?  What kinds of programs, strategies, and resourcing would each require?
9. Where are the crucial zones of CVE?   Arguably, the focus is shifting away from Arab heartland -- but to where?   Is it the active combat zones (Iraq, Afghanistan) which consume so much of the Pentagon's budget?  Is it the ungoverned spaces like Yemen or Somalia?  Is it the Muslim communities of Europe?   What do each of these demand -- and should they be brought together under the same conceptual framework?  And what do we absolutely have to do to avoid the most catastrophic, unacceptable outcomes in each:  do we have to bring legitimate governance and health care reform to Yemen? I sure hope not, but if so, where exactly are those resources to come from?   
10. And finally -- you knew this was coming:  is AfPak central to CVE or marginal?  Does its relative importance justify the ever-growing resource commitment?  Would maintaining the status quo (as opposed to U.S. withdrawal) render AfPak more marginal or more central?  Would escalation render AfPak more marginal or central?  

Lots of questions, some of which I feel have clear answers but a lot that don't.  Enjoy! 

(.... and #11, I suppose:  can we really do well at "combatting violent extremism" when we can't even spell it?  Sorry... )

 The wonderful Middle East Institute blogger Michael Collins Dunn noted the other day the passing of Amin Huwaydi, the former Egyptian Defense Minister and Intelligence chief.  But even he missed the passing of another iconic Egyptian:  Mustafa Mahmoud.  Who?  Mustafa Mahmoud. 

 Mustafa Mahmoud never held a government office as far as I know, and played no role in the great international diplomacy of the Middle East.  From what I can tell, his passing has received no coverage in the Western media.   I never got to meet Mustafa Mahmoud, who retreated from the public eye years ago while battling cancer.  But he did as much as anyone else to spread Islamist identity and ideology through the lower and middle classes of a rapidly urbanizing Cairo. 

 Mahmoud was the author of more than a hundred accessible cheap Islamic books which used to be available all over Cairo (and beyond). A medical doctor by training, he established the mosque and medical clinic which bears his name, which served as one of the leading examples of the kinds of Islamist social services which earned them such respect and support.  He became an Egyptian media star through his long running television program, "Science and Faith." It is impossible to look around Cairo today without seeing his reflection:  the Islamicized public space and public discourse, the profusion of Islamist social services, the creative Islamist use of every new media technology.  

 Those Americans trying today to craft a new relationship with the Islamic world might ask themselves which of these men -- the Defense Minister and Mukhabarat Director, or the media-savvy Islamic populist -- ultimately had the greater impact on Egypt and the Middle East.  And they should ask themselves how American "strategic public engagement" with the Islamic world can respond to the world which Mustafa Mahmoud helped to shape. 

I've been asked to contribute to the latest edition of the Foreign Policy report card on the Obama administration.  I gave an A- after the first 100 days.   I'm not sure when the whole thing will be published, but here's my contribution:

The administration has moved from the initial period of "reset" to the tougher period of implementation.  A lot of people focus on the inevitable lack of immediate progress -- some because they want change and are growing frustrated, others because they oppose his agenda and seek every opportunity to declare failure.  I get frustrated, and I've been critical of some of Obama's tactics and priorities.   But stepping back from the day to day triumphs and frustrations shows an administration which has come a long way in less than ten months.

This is a global perspective, but I'll focus mainly on the Middle East.   Obama has transformed the tone and tenor of America's relationship with the Islamic, downgrading the focus on terrorism and al-Qaeda in favor of a broadly-based outreach and engagement.  The Cairo speech isn't enough, and the follow-up hasn't been as visible and sustained as I'd like --- but the fact is that al-Qaeda today is as marginal in Arab politics as it has been in a decade, and Obama deserves credit for that.  

Obama has done a great job of maintaining his committment to withdraw responsibly from Iraq despite all sorts of pressures and temptations to change his mind, and has not overreacted to each day's new crisis. The engagement with Syria continues.  He has chosen to engage seriously with the decision-making about Afghanistan, and has run an impressively inclusive and thoughtful deliberation process despite the impatience of advocates for escalation or withdrawal.   And he's done an extremely impressive job of building a global coalition towards Iran, and has made more progress on the nuclear front than most expected.

Obama has been less successful in dealing with the Israeli-Palestinian track. After an outstanding beginning which demonstrated his strong commitment to achieving a negotiated two-state solution and the correct decision to call for an Israeli settlement freeze, his team allowed Israeli Prime Minister Netanyahu to drag the process down into the tarpits to die.  He should have pivoted away from the settlements battle months ago, and now is paying the price.  The administration has also struggled with Palestinian politics, relying heavily on Mahmoud Abbas and Salam Fayyad but undermining their legitimacy and failing to do anything to alleviate the suffering of Gaza. 

 Nobody expected Obama to achieve Israeli-Palestinian peace, end the Iranian nuclear standoff, or transform the Islamic world in ten months.  And he hasn't.  But he's accomplished quite a lot and has set the U.S. on a far better course in the region.  Impatience in the region is clearly growing, and skepticism is setting in about his ability to deliver.   He may well fail.  But for now, I think the broad contours of his policy are playing out reasonably well.   Grade:  A-

I've just published a new article in Abu Dhabi's Review at the National, which looks at the impact of Arab repression of moderate Islamist movements which have been trying for years to participate in democratic elections.  It puts recent leadership conflicts in Jordan and Egypt in the context of this repression, and tries to sort out some of the ways that the sustained authoritarian response might be affecting Muslim Brotherhood leadership, cadres, and ideology -- and the prospects for democracy as a whole. 

Excerpts: 

Moderate Islamist movements across the Arab world have made a decisive turn towards participation in democratic politics over the last 20 years. They have developed an elaborate ideological justification for contesting elections, which they have defended against intense criticism from more radical Islamist competitors. At the same time, they have demonstrated a commitment to internal democracy remarkable by the standards of the region, and have repeatedly proved their willingness to respect the results of elections even when they lose.

But rather than welcome this development, secular authoritarian regimes have responded with growing repression. Again and again, successful electoral participation by Islamists has triggered a backlash, often with the consent – if not the encouragement – of the United States. When Hamas prevailed in the Palestinian parliamentary elections in 2006, the response was boycott and political subversion. When the Egyptian government cracked down on the Muslim Brotherhood after elections in 2005, few outsiders objected.

As the door to democracy is slammed in their faces, how have the Islamist groups that embraced participation responded? In some ways, they have passed the test with flying colours. They have remained committed to democratic participation even in the face of massive electoral fraud and harsh campaigns of repression. Their leaders have affirmed their democratic ideals, and have often spoken out to reiterate their ideological and strategic commitment to democracy. Indeed, they have often emerged as the leading advocates for public freedoms and democratic reform. And there is as yet little sign of any such organisation turning to violence as an alternative.

But in other ways, the toll of repression is beginning to show. Doubts about the value of democratic participation inside these movements are growing. Splits in the top ranks have roiled movements in Jordan and Egypt, among others. In many of the cases, a Brotherhood leadership which prefers a moderate, accommodationist approach to the regime has struggled to find a way to respond to the escalating pressures of repression and the closing down of the paths towards democratic participation. In Egypt, frustration over extended detentions of the most moderate leaders have tarnished the coin of those calling for political participation, with a rising trend calling for a retreat from politics and a renewed focus upon social activism and religious work. In Jordan, the influence of those seeking to abandon worthless domestic politics and to focus instead on supporting Hamas has grown.

Critics of the Brotherhood have pointed to these recent struggles as evidence that Islamists cannot be trusted with democracy. But this profoundly misreads the current trends. These crises in fact reflect a delayed response to the blocked promise of democratic participation. The Islamist debate today is not about the legitimacy of democracy – it is about how to respond to frustrated efforts to play the democratic game.

I then look in some detail at the Jordanian and Egyptian cases. Key excerpts:

Following the 2007 electoral debacle, the Brotherhood entered a period of intense internal unrest. It dissolved its Shura Council as penance for its fateful decision to participate in the election. The core issue was over how best to respond to the regime’s repression: through confrontation, or through a retreat and consolidation of the political strategy? In April 2008, the “hawkish” trend won the internal elections to the Shura Council by a single vote, and the pragmatic and domestically-orientated Salem Falahat was replaced by the fiery, Palestine-centric hawk Himmam Said. Said and the new head of the Islamic Action Front, Zaki Bani Arshid, steered the Islamist movement into more direct conflict with the regime, with little success. The reformist trend, led by the soft-spoken intellectual Ruheil Ghuraybeh, avoided open confrontation but advanced an ambitious programme to transform Jordan into a constitutional monarchy.

As the Brotherhood rank and file lost interest in a stalled domestic political process, they were simultaneously galvanised by the electoral success of Hamas and then by the visceral images of Israel’s war on Gaza. The growing interest in Palestinian issues at the expense of Jordanian politics worried not only the regime but also the traditional leadership of the Brotherhood. The leading Jordanian journalist Mohammed Abu Rumman argues that the issue of relations with Hamas has supplanted the traditional “hawk-dove” struggle within the organisation. While both trends support Hamas – “if you are not with Hamas, you are not with the Muslim Brotherhood”, explained one of the “dovish” leaders – they disagree over the appropriate organisational relationship. The “Hamasi” trend supports close ties and the prioritisation of Palestinian issues, and embraces a common Muslim identity over a narrowly Jordanian one. The “reformist” trend insists that Hamas, as the Palestinian Muslim Brotherhood, should have responsibility for Palestine while the Jordanian Brotherhood must be a national organisation focused upon domestic Jordanian issues.

This crisis came to a head over the issue of Hamas participation in the administrative structures of the Jordanian Brotherhood. Three leading reformists resigned from the Executive Office, triggering an as-yet-unresolved internal crisis that threatens one of the first serious internal splits in the history of the movement. The media has eagerly egged this conflict on; indeed, a number of Brotherhood leaders told me that what made the current crisis unique was not the issues at stake or the intensity of the disagreement, but the fact that for the first time it had become public.

The story of the Jordanian Muslim Brotherhood is many things, but certainly not a story of Islamists retreating from democracy. Similar dynamics can be seen in Egypt, where the Brotherhood’s leadership is similarly divided over how to respond to escalating repression. During multiple trips to Cairo in the last few years, I saw the growing frustration of a generation of reformists who found their every effort to embrace democracy met with force and rejection.

....

But over time, the pressure began to take its toll. The leadership reined in its freewheeling young bloggers, whose public airing of internal issues was being exploited by the organisation’s opponents. It adopted tougher rhetoric on foreign policy issues such as the Gaza war – attacking the Egyptian government’s enforcement of the blockade of Gaza – in part to rally its demoralised membership. Considerable evidence suggests that the cadres of the organisation were growing disenchanted with politics and preferred to return to the core social and religious mission. And growing voices from inside and outside the movement began to suggest retreating from politics until a more propitious time.

Earlier this month the conflicts inside the Egyptian Brotherhood leapt into the pages of local newspapers, which reported that the movement’s leader, Mohammed Mahdi Akef, had abruptly resigned his post in protest after conservatives refused to appoint the leading reformist Essam el Erian to an open leadership seat. Akef has denied the reports – but the portrait of a movement in turmoil is clear.

And concludes:

The Jordanian, Egyptian and American governments may see all this as something of a success story: the influence of the Islamists has been curbed, both in formal politics and in the social sector, and the restraint exercised by the Brotherhood leadership has meant the states have not faced a backlash. But this is dangerously short-sighted. The campaigns against Islamists weaken the foundations of democracy as a whole, not just the appeal of one movement, and have had a corrosive effect on public freedoms, transparency and accountability. Regardless of the fortunes of the movements themselves, the crackdown on the Islamists contributes to the wider corruption of public life. The growing frustration within moderate Islamist groups with democratic participation cannot help but affect their future ideological trajectory.

 Sowing disenchantment with democratic politics in the ranks of the Brotherhood could forfeit one of the signal developments in Islamist political thinking of the last few decades. The failure of the movement’s democratic experiment could empower more radical Islamists, including not only terrorist groups but also doctrinaire salafists less inclined to pragmatic politics. The degradation of its organisational strengths could open up space for al Qa’eda and other radical competitors to move in. he alternative to Ismail Haniya might be Osama bin Laden rather than Abu Mazen, and the exclusion of Essam el-Erian may not produce an Ayman Nour.

Read the whole thing here. 

 There's quite a bit of buzz around Palestinian President Mahmoud Abbas's reported threat to not stand for elections in January unless Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu agrees to a settlement freeze.   He's reportedly furious about the criticism he received over the Goldstone report fiasco, and despondent about Israel's approach to the Palestinian issue.  It isn't likely that the threat will be taken especially seriously -- he's made such threats before without following through, he's most likely trying to recoup some domestic standing and to put some pressure on Netanyahu, and Palestinian and Arab leaders generally don't do this sort of thing. It's receiving only minimal coverage thus far in the Arab press.  

But what if he were serious, as some well-connected Palestinians have suggested to me yesterday and today?  If Abu Mazen really did step down, it would certainly complicate the Obama administration's current approach to the peace process by removing one of the pillars of its strategy.  But then, it's hard to get terribly exercised about the peace process being set back when there doesn't seem to be much of a peace process.  In the longer run, it could actually create some real opportunities for progress. Why? 

 First, it would shake up the comfortable status quo of what passes for the peace process... the talks about talks, the political discussions which go on in near total isolation from facts on the ground, and the untenable assumptions which allow everyone to pretend that things are moving forward.  If Abu Mazen really did quit, it would suggest that there are real political costs to the current approach and might force a rethink both in Washington and in Tel Aviv.  Palestinian domestic politics tend to be sorely neglected in the analysis and execution of Middle East policy, with predictably bad results (i.e. the Goldstone fiasco).   

 Second, it could create an opening at last for the real renewal of Fatah and PA leadership, which the Bethlehem conference talked about but only marginally achieved.  Abu Mazen and his inner circle have been working the Oslo process and the post-Oslo process for almost two decades.  New blood might not be such a bad thing.  Sure, one of the other members of the old Arafat circle might try to fill Abu Mazen's shoes --- but they might face serious competition from the younger generation. At the least, it might create an opening for the regeneration of Fatah and of the PA --- and even the rebuilding of the lost, deeply frustrated center of Palestinian politics.

 Third, it might create a route towards finally achieving the reunification of the West Bank and Gaza, and some kind of working accomodation between Fatah and Hamas.  If Abu Mazen stood down, the intense current stalemate might deflate a bit and allow for a face-saving compromise. 

 Finally,  Abu Mazen deciding not to run for re-election would be an exceedingly rare instance of an Arab leader opting to step down from power of his own volition.  I have a hard time thinking of a single example, frankly.  Yemen's Ali Abdullah Salah promised to do it, but then didn't.  The Muslim Brotherhood's Supreme Guide Mohammed Medhi Akef has promised to do so at the end of the year, and for now seems to mean it.  But beyond that Arab leaders tend to die in office  (of natural or unnatural causes) and towards the end to find ways to pass power to their sons, or sometimes be sent off into comfortable exile after a palace coup)    So if the 73 year old Abu Mazen really did decide to step down, it would be shocking and innovative. 

 I don't think Abbas will really follow through on his threat.  If he did, not all the effects would be positive.  It could set in motion intense internal politicking over the succession which could tear the PA apart.  It could offer an easy excuse for Israel to avoid peace talks.  It could generate huge uncertainty and raise the stakes over the January elections in dangerous ways.  It could embolden Hamas to try and seize the moment to try and grab control over the PLO.  But those risks should be set against the possible gains as we try and game out what might happen if he does.