Democracy Lab

The Gang That Can't Shoot Straight

The Syrian National Council has failed to galvanize international support for the rebellion -- and it has only itself to blame.

Last week, the Syrian opposition columnist Ghassan Muflih, writing in the online newspaper Elaph, informed his readers who was to blame for the failure to dislodge Bashar al-Assad. "The West is supportive of the demands of the Syrian people [to live in] freedom and dignity but does not encourage the success of the revolution," he wrote. "The reasons are related to the Israeli desire to see the destruction of Syria at the hands of the Assad gangs. The Western position is justified by flimsy arguments, for example, when they speak of Islamist militants or the unity of the opposition. However, the essence of the western position remains: Give Assad more time to kill."

It's understandable that some try to hold the West accountable for the continuing horrors in Syria. Last month was the deadliest so far, with the overall death toll surpassing 20,000 and the number of refugees that have fled the fighting exceeding 150,000. (The photo above shows a street scene in Aleppo earlier this week.) All UN attempts to end the bloodshed have so far come to nothing -- a dismal failure underscored by the resignation last month of UN-AL special envoy Kofi Annan. The prospects for his successor, Lakhdar Brahimi, are poor. Air support from the countries of the West would probably be far more effective when it comes to loosening Assad's grip - but the prospects for that appear remote.

But while the West recognizes the inadequacy of the international response and has clashed with Russia and China over the matter, the Syrian opposition appears to be blissfully unaware of its own role in prolonging the conflict. By failing to create a credible alternative that appeals to Syrians, as well as to the international community, the opposition has consistently put a damper on any plan for western military intervention. Their division and incompetence are now the main lifeline for a beleaguered Assad.

The Syrian National Council claims to be the largest, the best-financed, and the most well-organized of all the various Syrian opposition coalitions. According to its own books, it has received over $25 million from Libya, Qatar, Saudi Arabia, and the UAE, not to mention assistance from the U.S. and the UK in the form of "non-lethal aid."

Last week, SNC President Abdulbaset Sieda lashed out at U.S. officials for saying that it was premature to speak about a transitional Syrian government. He described the many differences within the SNC as "normal." Normality is a relative concept, but in suggesting that the SNC's performance during the past year could in any way be considered "normal" in a country crying out for alternative leadership is as breathtakingly insulting as it is naïve.

SNC members like to cite the Western intervention in Libya as the sort of thing that needs to happen in Syria now. But the West's involvement in Libya came about partly because the Libyan opposition demonstrated a basic capacity for leadership. A transitional council was formed within one week of the first anti-Qaddafi protests. That council appointed a commander-in-chief to lead the rebel forces. It sent emissaries around the world to represent the opposition to foreign governments, and it immediately established contacts with grassroots constituencies inside the country. A respected defector, Mustafa Abduljalil, was elected to head an executive team tasked with implementing a clear-headed strategy to bring down Qaddafi at all costs.

The SNC has done nothing of the sort. Its control over the Free Syrian Army and other armed opposition groups remains tenuous, sustained only by payments of cash but little else. Repeated attempts to bring the armed opposition under its political wing have failed because there is little trust in the SNC as a representative body. The resultant void in leadership has been filled by radical jihadist groups that have emerged as powerful challengers to the SNC. 

Despite its claims to "serve as a political umbrella for the Syrian Revolution in the international arena," the SNC has yet to appoint a single delegate or spokesperson in any of the world's major capitals.

Competing factionalism within the SNC means that ponderous and ineffective delegations of twenty or more fly around the world at great expense because none of the constituent parties trust each other to sit with foreign governments alone. It should come as little surprise that no country apart from Libya recognizes the SNC as the legitimate representative of the Syrian people.

Among the Syrian revolution's rank-and-file, the SNC appears distant and increasingly irrelevant. Despite access to at least seven satellite television channels and dozens of websites and YouTube channels, the SNC was neither able to appeal to its own core constituency (Sunni Arabs) or to develop sophisticated messages to engage with the minority groups on whose continued support Assad relies.

To this day, the SNC does not have a discernible media strategy. It failed to understand that the key to winning the media war is not credibility but consistent messaging. Opposition activists have become obsessed with reporting details while the regime media machine keeps its eye on the big picture. "People don't have to believe what is being broadcast," says Nadim Shehadi, Syria specialist at Chatham House, "but the overall message [of the regime's propaganda] is ‘we're here and here to stay,' which is quite strong."

Leadership in the SNC is very much "by committee," and this precludes the emergence of a strong and popular leader. The SNC was created by a series of delicately constructed alliances between competitors: secularists and Islamists, Arabs and Kurds, party affiliates and independents, tribal chiefs and Facebook activists. What this means in practice is that decisions, more often than not, are compromises.

The SNC's first president, Dr. Burhan Ghalioun, was just such a compromise, and it showed. A Paris-based academic with no prior experience in front-line politics, his nine months at the head of the organization were marked by dithering and confusion over policy towards militarization and foreign intervention. Under his watch, the initial goodwill that was extended by the international community steadily ebbed away. His successor, a Stockholm-based Kurdish academic, did nothing to dispel the air of the exiles' elitist disconnect from the street.

Perhaps the most damning failure of the SNC was its inability to frame the struggle in Syria in its own terms. In what can only be described as a shameful case of intellectual cowardice, little attempt was made to define the revolution using the language of politics. Where is the list of specific grievances and demands? Where are the revolutionary slogans and symbols? Where are the thinkers that are shaping the way that Syrians understand their act of rebellion? What the revolution is about and what it aims to achieve are questions that invariably draw vague and emotional responses from SNC politicians -- responses that, though playing well to Al-Jazeera's audience, have left western observers feeling confused and underwhelmed.

The conflict exposed a series of ruptures within Syrian society -- be it sectarian, ethnic, class-based, or ideological -- which the SNC was expected to address head-on as part of a compelling new vision. The adoption by protesters of the pre-Ba'ath Party, green-white-black tricolor known as the Flag of Independence, a symbol around which Syrians rallied in their struggle against the French mandate, should have been enough to convince the SNC that they needed to seek legitimacy not in Doha or Paris but in Syria's "golden age." The post-independence liberal democracy (1946-58) is a reference point from which the SNC could have launched a progressive political program based on freedom, equality, and national reconciliation. What they actually came up with was an uninspiring four-page document called the National Covenant for a New Syria. It is doubtful whether any Syrian inside the country has heard of it, let alone knows what it says.

The regime, meanwhile, has been able to frame the conflict in terms favorable to itself: a struggle between secular urban sophistication and religious tolerance versus Islamist country bumpkins fuelled by petro-dollars and jihadist ideology. While this is not a wholly accurate portrayal, the SNC's failure to offer an alternative that allows for the role of rural religious conservatives and absorbs them into a broader liberal-national narrative, has allowed the regime to claim, not without sympathy from some in the West, that it is on front lines of the war on terror. The SNC's fundamental failure is not one of organization but of imagination.

The SNC claims to draw legitimacy from the Syrian people. In reality, it sources of legitimacy are external: Arab money and western recognition. For now, Arab money still flows into its coffers but the West has grown impatient and is looking for alternatives.

U.S. Secretary of State Hillary Clinton refused to meet an SNC delegation in Istanbul last month; she opted to meet with independent activists instead. Recent diplomatic activity points to an incipient consensus in London, Washington, and Paris that encouraging a credible alternative to Assad based around the SNC is a policy that has failed. And, that in turn, has prompted criticisms of the West from the SNC leadership.

But so what? Blaming the West has always been a useful crutch for failed political institutions in the Arab world. In this case, the SNC has concluded that it cannot afford to lose contact with the U.S. As a direct result of the recent snubs, the SNC announced on September 1 a restructuring of the organization that would see the group's general assembly grow from 300 to 400 members and each opposition group to be represented by at least 20 members. The idea is to make the SNC more representative.

In reality the SNC needed to slim down, not pile on weight. More members means more contenders jostling for position, more avenues for corruption and waste, and less chance for consensus-building and thoughtful policy formulation. It also means more meaningless posts, adding to the noxious mix of ego, ambition and incompetence that has stifled the SNC from its inception. It is a solution worthy of a committee of Arab bureaucrats.

Last week a key founder of the SNC resigned. Dr Bassma Kodmani had been involved in a tug-of-war with the Islamists for months, who reacted decisively by voting her out of the all-powerful executive committee. Her exit signals the end of the liberal-Islamist concord that established the SNC as a cross-party coalition. Now it is the Muslim Brotherhood who are firmly in the driver's seat.

The Syrian National Council has presided over a catastrophic failure of leadership. The West is right to seek an alternative, but in so doing, it will need to contend with the Muslim Brotherhood. Right from the start, the SNC was viewed by the Islamist movement as a useful tool to rebuild its own organization and position itself to capture power in Syria. Knowing that many in Syria and in the West dislike the Brotherhood, the SNC proved to be useful camouflage.

Sidelining the SNC means sidelining the Brotherhood, a task that poses considerable problems. Brotherhood leaders are well-versed in the arts of prevarication and backroom dealing, and they will try to smother any rival organization that attempts to compete with the SNC for money and international recognition. In the meantime, one can be sure that anti-western rhetoric will get louder.

It must surely be a worrying development when those working to bring down dictatorship are found to be borrowing from the dictator's manual. West-bashing will not save the SNC or the Syrian revolution. Only by demonstrating a modicum of effective leadership can the Syrian opposition hope to convince the international community that it is a credible alternative and worthy of a Libya-type investment in men, materiel, and political will.

A British diplomat summed it up nicely at a meeting with SNC representatives in April: "Spend less time communicating with us and more time communicating with your own people." The irony is that the SNC is now doing neither.


Democracy Lab

Learning Europe's Lessons in Africa

Why five East African countries are trying to follow in the European Union's footsteps -- minus the common currency.

Even as the European Union's sovereign debt crisis comes "back from vacation," as a New York Times Magazine headline recently put it, a far less-known group of countries is following in the EU's very footsteps. This is the East African Community (EAC), a five-country bloc that is moving headlong toward the same kind of economic and political union now in peril in Europe.

The EU's experience -- including, not least, the ongoing Eurozone crisis -- offers plenty of lessons that could help the EAC replicate the EU's successes while avoiding its troubles. Economically, the evidence suggests that East African countries should vigorously integrate their markets but move cautiously regarding a common currency. Politically, they should focus intensely on accountability for democratic practices, though progress on this front will be more difficult than in the economic sphere.

The EAC's five countries -- Burundi, Kenya, Rwanda, Tanzania, and Uganda -- have made astoundingly rapid progress since the bloc was re-launched in 2000. (An earlier union of Kenya, Tanzania, and Uganda dissolved in 1977, ten years after its founding.)

On paper, at least, the EAC has harmonized rules and tariffs and guaranteed the free movement of labor, capital, goods, and services among member states. In the EU, this occurred through the acceptance of the Acquis Communautaire, the body of EU law. In the EAC it has, so far, meant adoption of a common market and customs union, joint judicial and legislative bodies, and measures such as the mutual accreditation of higher education institutions.

The EAC's progress offers a welcome, if little-noticed, argument that the Euro's troubles need not discredit the EU's model for integration. There is no need to throw out the baby with the bathwater. Indeed, economically, the EAC has an enormous amount to gain from integration. According to the latest data in the World Bank's global poverty statistics, 81 percent of Burundians, 43 percent of Kenyans, 63 percent of Rwandans, 68 percent of Tanzanians, and 38 percent of Ugandans live on less than $1.25 per day. IMF data show that GDP per capita is only $850 in the wealthiest EAC country, Kenya. In Burundi, the poorest, it is just $279.

Each EAC member economy is also small in the aggregate. Kenya, the largest of the five, has a 2011 GDP of only $35 billion, according to the IMF -- about the same as South Dakota. This suggests that integration could unlock tremendous growth and economies of scale.

Geography, too, points to substantial advantages if East African states can successfully merge their markets. Kenya and Tanzania enjoy long coastlines; Burundi, Rwanda, and Uganda are landlocked. With under-developed infrastructure throughout the region, the gains from the construction of roads and railways, carefully streamlined border crossings, and improved connections from the interior to Kenyan and Tanzanian ports could be huge. A modern transport network would allow investment to increase and spread throughout the region.

The EAC has traveled quickly along the continuum of economic integration through the development of a customs union and common market, which have begun to support intra-regional development and specialization. Kenya is supplying financial services and Uganda is increasingly providing education and health services to other members, for example. This is all to the good.

The next major step, a common currency, is more problematic, however. East African leaders have announced their intention to form a currency between 2012 and 2015. The group's leaders recently urged negotiators to "move with greater speed" to conclude a protocol that would lay out steps toward implementation. Officials hope to reach agreement by the end of the year. But the EU's experience suggests this is premature.

With diverse levels of wealth and widely varying approaches to regulation and competitiveness, and with some members (notably Germany) running current-account surpluses while others (such as Greece) run deficits, the Eurozone has been unable to promote stability and growth in all its members at the same time. The EAC faces a similar range of economic disparities.

As recent headlines show, the EU also sorely lacks sufficient fiscal integration and institutional consensus. A decade after the Euro entered circulation, the role of its governing organization, the European Central Bank (ECB), remains a subject of acrimony, and there is no cross-national budget surveillance or credible penalty for violating agreements. ECB president Mario Draghi on Thursday announced a plan to buy the bonds of indebted national governments, but it comes over vehement opposition from Germany, the Eurozone's dominant economy. The EAC lacks consensus on these questions as well.

Europe's experience and the EAC's situation on the ground argue for eschewing a monetary union until East Africa's integration advances considerably. Harmonizing regulations; facilitating travel, investment, and trade; maintaining consistent control over inflation; investing in infrastructure; balancing levels of wealth and competitiveness; sharing greater sovereign authority over policies and decisions; building institutions with secure and agreed-upon powers -- all these should come before a common currency.

Fortunately, some officials and experts appear to recognize that haste is dangerous. The EAC's secretary general, Richard Sezibera, said this spring that "we are not rushing to single currency before putting our house in order." Delegations from the region are visiting Brussels to analyze Europe's experience (they are also visiting West Africa to learn about that region's monetary union).

At a conference in Tanzania earlier this year, Oxford economist Paul Collier said: "Considering what happened in the Eurozone, the monetary union is not the way to go." Rwanda's New Times has featured a series of articles expressing skepticism about the region's readiness for a common currency. Even the chief economist of the National Bank of Rwanda, Thomas Kigabo, has written a paper arguing that "the economic convergence and institutional development needed to support monetary union is likely to take an extended period of time." A former governor of the Bank of Uganda, Leo Kibirango, recently sounded a similar cautionary note.

Politically, too, the EU offers valuable lessons for East Africa. But here it is not clear that the EAC can make use of them. Perhaps the EU's greatest achievement is cementing a zone of democracy and peace where armed conflict, once common, is unthinkable. Although governance across the EU is far from perfect, the bloc has created a large and growing space where basic rights and institutions are protected and peace is inviolate. Even with its current problems, the EU has become a global paragon of accountability and stability. This is a remarkable historical achievement.

The problem is that these political accomplishments were driven by a group of previously prosperous and institutionally robust Western European states. The attractiveness of their example, and the inducement of structural assistance, market access, and prestige, encouraged Eastern and Southern European countries to strengthen their democratic institutions and norms in order to join the EU.

In the EAC, there is no such core of rich and established democracies. No member is in a strong position to hold others to high standards of governance. The bloc already includes states whose democratic credentials are dubious at best. Neither is any member willing or able to offer significant funds to others as an inducement for reform. Indeed, perceptions of imbalanced benefits (with Kenya seen as reaping disproportionate gains) are part of what doomed the first attempt at East African integration in the 1970s.

In the near future, then, the EAC's major gains are likelier to come in the economic realm than the political one. That is no reason to abandon hopes for democratic progress, though. EAC states should still articulate a strong commitment to rights and freedoms and build institutions to hold each other firmly accountable for democratic practices (or lack thereof). They could learn from the Economic Community of West African States (ECOWAS), which has had some (but only some) success in condemning coups d'états and working to restore democracy -- as in Côte d'Ivoire in 2010-11 and in Mali more recently.

As the EU struggles to emerge from crisis, East Africans are demonstrating that the case for integration remains alive and well and the European model retains its aspirational sheen. If the EAC can learn from the EU's history, the people of East Africa could enjoy improved economic opportunities and political stability, in turn becoming a more important business and security partner for the United States and the European Union itself.