'Everyone Is Scared of ISIS.'

Can anyone stop the radicalization of Syrian rebels?

I've spent much of the last week in Antakya, an ancient city, known to Byzantine Christians as Antioch, which now serves as a bivouac for Syrian rebel fighters and a jumping-off point for journalists and humanitarian actors working in Syria, which lies 20 miles to the west. One subject preoccupies everyone in the Turkish town: not the brutality of the regime in Damascus, but the nihilistic violence of the foreign jihadi group known as the Islamic State of Iraq and al-Sham (ISIS).

Firas Tammim, a native of the Syrian city of Latakia who now brings medical supplies and other goods to the region, said to me, "I don't want to say Assad is better, but at least he didn't arrest or kill people because they were smoking." Tammim showed me a picture on his phone of a crowd of villagers, including children, witnessing an ISIS beheading of an alleged infidel. "Think what this does to these children," he said. Over time, Tammim said, Syrians are becoming inured to what they once would have found unspeakable.

ISIS appears to have up to 8,000 soldiers in Syria, a tiny number compared with the 100,000 or so rebel fighters. But the group's medieval ideology, as well as its pathological obsession with enforcing Islamist rectitude in the towns and cities its soldiers have infiltrated, has made it a source of terror. One evening I was sitting at an outdoor cafe where a grizzled man was steadily smoking a hookah and shooting jets of tobacco smoke through his nostrils. He called himself Abu Abdul, and he was a fighter with a brigade affiliated with the Free Syrian Army (FSA), the "moderate" forces backed by the West. We talked about the jihadists. Then he said something else. "He asks that you not mention the name of his brigade," my interpreter said. "Everyone is scared of ISIS."

President Bashar al-Assad has received two enormous gifts in recent months. The first is the Russian-brokered deal to remove Syria's chemical weapons, which distracted attention from his relentless campaign to kill and terrorize his enemies and also compelled Western governments to work with him as the country's legitimate ruler. The second is ISIS, which has also deflected attention away from the war between the regime and the rebels and has vindicated as nothing else could Assad's persistent claim that he is confronting, not political opponents, but "terrorists," as his foreign minister, Walid al-Muallem, recently claimed at the United Nations.

For this reason, it has become a fixed conviction in Antakya that ISIS functions as a secret arm of the regime. This sounds like an all-too-understandable conspiracy theory, yet even Western diplomats I've spoken to consider it plausible, if scarcely proved. In the summer of 2012, Assad released from prison a number of jihadists who had fought with al Qaeda in Iraq and who are thought to have helped formed ISIS. Reporters, activists, and fighters also note that while regime artillery has flattened the FSA's headquarters in Aleppo, the ISIS camp next door was left untouched until the jihadi group left; the same is true in the fiercely contested eastern city of Raqqa. ISIS, for its part, has done very little to liberate regime-held areas, but has seized control of both Raqqa and the border town of Azaz from FSA forces.

Maybe it is just a conspiracy theory. Aaron Zelin, a Syria analyst who closely follows the dynamic among rebel groups, dismisses the idea as "partly wish-fulfillment and partly delusion." But there's no mistaking the hydraulic effect of ISIS's brand of uncompromising Islam. I spoke to a group of wounded fighters recovering in a clinic in the Turkish town of Reyhanli, a few miles from the border with Syria. One of them, who called himself Abu Abbas, had gone to al-Baath University in Homs with my interpreter, Rifaie Tammas. He had been pursuing a master's degree in English literature. He shocked Rifaie by defending ISIS and claiming that the group is fighting the moderates because they are American stooges. The only answer for Syria, said Abu Abbas, is the rule of sharia.

The growing Islamization of the rebellion has something to do with ISIS, though a good deal more to do with the rebels' growing sense of embitterment at their abandonment by the West and by exile groups who squabble among themselves in the comfort of Turkish or Egyptian hotels. The Islamists -- not just ISIS -- say, "We have no one to turn to but God," and young men like Abu Abbas have little reason to think otherwise.

The moderate rebels have become increasingly chimerical. On Sept. 24, 13 fighting groups -- including the al Qaeda affiliate Jabhat al-Nusra, Salafi brigades, and some more mainline elements -- issued a joint declaration in which they pledged to operate within an "Islamic framework" based on "the rule of sharia and making it the sole source of legislation." At the same time, the groups cut all ties with the Syrian National Council (SNC), the exile group that has received Western support. The pledge looked less like a gesture of solidarity than of despair.

It could have been otherwise. U.S. President Barack Obama could have bolstered moderate forces if he had supplied the rebels with weapons more than a year ago, as he was urged to do by Secretary of State Hillary Clinton and others. By refusing to do so, he discredited the SNC, alienated fighting units, and created a vacuum that ISIS has increasingly filled. Now, thanks in no small part to that failure, Obama has far stronger grounds to withhold U.S. military assistance than he had before. The president is not going to put much stock in a rebellion that puts so little stock in Western values.

What's more, the fear that advanced weapons might fall into the hands of extremists, arguably overblown 18 months ago, is now impossible to discount. The fighters and activists I spoke to insist that the only way they can take on ISIS, as well as the regime, is with a steady supply of weapons and ammunition. They're right, but they won't win that argument in Washington. And the consequences of a hypothetical military victory look more and more dangerous. Imad Dahro, a former general in the national police who defected last year, assured me, as many people did, that the regime would collapse in the face of a sustained American missile strike. "Then what?" I asked. Wouldn't the myriad rebel groups in the north then turn on each other? He reflected for a moment, and said, "Maybe."

The rise of ISIS, in short, has made the situation much worse for the rebels, much worse for the West, and much better for the regime. I heard any number of Syrians calling for nonradical brigades, with a core of Free Syrian Army groups, to join forces against ISIS. Only then, the argument runs, can they make a concerted effort to wage the war against the real enemy -- the regime. What is certainly true is that the rebels will not get major help from the West unless and until they reverse the process of Islamization, though select brigades will continue to receive arms and ammunition from Saudi Arabia, Qatar, and others.

But radicalization is likely to increase, not diminish. Foreign extremists will keep streaming into Syria (a recent Der Spiegel article estimated the jihadi population of Atmeh, a Syrian town just across the border from Reyhanli, at 1,000). Assad will continue to exploit the focus on chemical weapons to commit atrocities against Syrian civilians. The rebels will keep absorbing and inflicting losses. And the endless torrent of refugees will further destabilize Lebanon and Jordan.

Obama has never tried to make the argument that America's national interests lie in preventing such a debacle, through military as well as diplomatic means. And now, perhaps, it's too late.


Terms of Engagement

The Test We're Giving Iran Is Rigged

Why Obama has to go bigger, much bigger, in making a deal with Iran -- or be prepared for a messy failure.

Be still, my heart. First Iranian President Hasan Rouhani embarks on a very charming charm offensive. Perhaps a breakthrough is at hand. But then he decides to forgo a handshake with President Barack Obama and skips lunch. We have seen through those Persian wiles: The spark, as my colleagues at Foreign Policy sadly concluded, "may be fading." But wait -- our president calls their president on the phone, the first leader-to-leader contact since the 1979 revolution. Maybe there's hope! Or maybe Obama's been snookered?!

A lot of this is about us, not them. We have reached a mental state in which hopefulness feels like a species of naiveté. We seemed to have swiftly passed from not believing in military solutions to anything to not believing in any solutions at all. We're on a bender of despair. Our once young, once thrillingly idealistic president glumly acknowledged to the U.N. General Assembly, "hard-earned humility when it comes to our ability to determine events inside other countries." And God knows, it's true. Every single one of the major Middle East conflicts he passed in review -- Syria, Libya, Egypt -- has offered a wrenching demonstration of the limits of America's power to keep people in faraway places from tearing one another limb from limb.

But Iran is different, and I think Obama, at least, understands that difference very well. The United States is trying not to reach inside the country, but rather to offer some mix of threats and incentives to the nation's leaders in order to alter their external behavior. That's called diplomacy; it's what states have always done, with greater or lesser success. In rare cases, it's true, states operate beyond the reach of both carrots and sticks. Over the past 30 years, Iran has arguably been just such a "rogue state." The great question that the West now faces is whether the election of Rouhani, and the tiny hints of accommodation from Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei, mean that Iran is now biddable.

No one knows the answer to that question; thus Obama's extremely cautious statement before the United Nations that "the roadblocks may prove to be too great, but I firmly believe the diplomatic path must be tested." This is not, itself, a controversial proposition: Even the Democratic and Republican senators who have recently written letters to Obama admonishing him to keep the pressure turned up high on Iran agree that we need to test the leadership's bona fides. But administering a test that the other side is bound to fail isn't diplomacy.

That's where we are now. The United States and its five partners in the so-called P5+1 are demanding that Iran stop all uranium enrichment activities, turn over all highly enriched uranium, and accept intrusive inspections in return for a very modest increase in trade and a promise of future sanctions relief. This is a one-sided deal that could only be imposed on a nation that felt it had no choice but to accept humiliation. For Iran, it's a nonstarter.

Previous Iranian negotiators have rejected any deal that does not vouchsafe the country's alleged right to enrichment or offer a clear path to a future without sanctions. If the ayatollah has also allowed Rouhani to "test" the West's commitment to resolving the conflict peacefully, sticking to the current formula would be all the proof he and other hard-liners need that the West is really trying to bring Iran to its knees.

This is why many diplomats and nonproliferation experts have advocated a "big for big" solution in which the United States wins major concessions from Iran by making large concessions of its own; former State Department official Robert Einhorn offered a blueprint for such a transaction in an article in FP earlier this year. One element of such a plan would be an agreement that Iran could continue to enrich uranium to the low concentrations necessary for peaceful purposes so long as it allows inspections intrusive enough to ensure that no undeclared nuclear material has been diverted. If Iran balked at such a deal, the West would have good reason to conclude that Iran's leadership had decided to achieve weapons capacity come what may.

That's a test. And it's a test Iran might even pass. According to notes from Rouhani's meeting with a group of regional experts convened by the Asia Society, Iran's president asserted that his country is seeking to find a mutually acceptable solution, work with the P5+1, and act with full transparency and within the parameters of international law. He said that the Iranians would be willing to grant the International Atomic Energy Agency access and meet the international safeguard agreement -- and, further, that Iran is willing to work toward removing all ambiguity surrounding its program (but will never forgo the right to pursue peaceful nuclear technology).

But so far, Obama hasn't been willing to apply that test; the politics have just been too excruciating. Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, who calls Rouhani "a wolf in sheep's clothing," steadfastly opposes leaving Iran with any enrichment capacity. So does most of the U.S. Senate. The letter that Sen. Chuck Schumer and Sen. John McCain sent to Obama insisted, in what has become boilerplate language, on "the suspension of all enrichment and reprocessing activities." A spokesman confirmed that "Senator Schumer does not support any Iranian nuclear enrichment at all."

Obama couldn't defy Congress on this -- even if he was politically prepared to do so -- since legislators must agree to roll back the sanctions that are crushing Iran's economy. And if Congress won't undo the sanctions so long as Iran retains an ongoing enrichment capacity, then Iranians won't agree to intrusive inspections, at which point any possible deal collapses. This will constitute the opposite of a "test," though it will allow congressional hawks to claim that they have proved Iran's intransigence. Diplomacy will thus fail without actually having been attempted.

And then what? Does Obama exercise the "military option" to prevent Iran from going nuclear? Both Netanyahu and congressional leaders have said that he must be prepared to do so, and Obama has complied by saying that he will confront rather than "contain" Iran. But a lot has changed in recent months, and not just in Tehran. The American people resoundingly rejected Obama's plan to fire a few missiles into Syria. Of course Iran, unlike Syria, is much more of a threat to American national security, but a massive strike against Iran, unlike a "shot across the bow" in Syria, would look very much like a war in the Middle East. I'm guessing that neither liberal Democrats nor libertarian Republicans will stand for it. How resolutely will, say, Sen. Marco Rubio demand a fusillade of Tomahawks? Given Rubio's abrupt volte-face on Syria, the question answers itself.

The alternative to diplomacy, in short, may be futility. For this reason, some legislators have pushed back against the hard line. Over the summer, North Carolina Democrat David Price and Pennsylvania Republican Charlie Dent sent their own letter to Obama asking for a new diplomatic initiative; they got 131 signatures, 18 of them from GOP congressmen. Many others urged them on from the sidelines. I spoke to Dent, who's very much a traditional conservative. In the aftermath of the brutal Syria debate, he said, "I don't think the president would attack Iran or anywhere else in the world. That leaves us with diplomacy or sanctions. That's why we have to try an overture." Dent blames Obama for hollowing out the credibility of military action, but he himself opposed the attack on Syria. Republicans will say it's Obama's fault, but it's their own constituents they're worried about.

This is, I admit, a very tiny opening for the president to squeeze through. Any deviation from the current formula will provoke the wrath of Congress and the Israel lobby. But Obama has got to break the stalemate. He has to show the Iranians that a meaningful end state lies beyond the painful concessions they will have to make. He has to be prepared to widen the scope of negotiations, including by offering Iran a place at the table in any future negotiations over the fate of Syria. There is no danger of excessive optimism here; everything that this president has touched in the Middle East has turned to dust. But in this one case his cautious, uncertain, all-too-easily reproachable statecraft just might yield a triumph of immense proportions.

Andrew Burton/Getty Images