Gateway to Think Tanks
来源类型 | Article |
规范类型 | 评论 |
So What’s Happening in the Rest of the Middle East? | |
karina-rollins; Hume Horan; daniel-kennelly; simon-henderson; Thomas O. Barnett | |
发表日期 | 2004 |
出版年 | 2004 |
语种 | 英语 |
摘要 | Saudi Arabia A Successful Anomaly (So Far) By Hume Horan Of all the strange forms of nationhood that fill the world today, none stands out like Saudi Arabia. It is the only country named after a family–the Sauds, who have ruled in the Peninsula since the eighteenth century. In a world of competing ideologies, it is the only state that abjures them all, in favor of its version of Sunni Islam. And as for a constitution? The Saudis would reply, “Ours is the Koran, a constitution granted by God himself that will stand not just the test of time, but eternity.” Outside viewers, even critics, might agree that Saudi Arabia seems, up to now, a successful anomaly. In a particularly conflict-prone region of the world, it has survived intact the destabilizing inrush of untold wealth and the challenge of various contemporary ideologies. Communism, Baathism, Arab nationalism–all have come and gone. But today, Saudi Arabia, which controls two thirds of the world’s oil resources, is threatened from within. It is challenged by jihadist Islam, the movement that includes al-Qaeda. Accordingly, a serious question for American leaders is: How much help can we expect from Saudi Arabia against a common threat which is, however, Muslim? For much of the last century, U.S.-Saudi relations were mostly of interest to specialists. In the 1930s, American oil explorers and developers–no cross-cultural specialists they–nevertheless got the United States off on the right foot with a strange people in a strange land. In World War II, U.S. Army mapping experts charted the best air route across the peninsula to our forces in China-Burma-India. More recently, U.S. arabists during and after the Cold War tried to deal with the turbulence caused by Jamal Abdul Nasser and Arab nationalism. When I arrived in the Kingdom in early 1972 as deputy chief of mission of the U.S. embassy in Jiddah, FDR’s and King Abdul Aziz’s 1945 meeting aboard the USS Quincy seemed almost a current affair, not history. The country was deeply conservative, but in a way that at the time seemed authentic and almost frictionless. Foreign diplomats and businessmen could live as Westerners in their compounds and enjoy folkloric forays into the town and countryside. The Saudi chief of police warned us, “I know the unspeakable things that go on in your Western compounds, but just keep them there–or I’ll be forced to step in.” By the time I left Saudi Arabia in July 1977, Jidda had become a city of cranes. They defined the urban landscape, as the U.S. Corps of Engineers went about its job of terraforming Jidda, Riyadh, and other cities. Saudi Arabia was the new El Dorado, the new Seven Cities of Cibola. Oil prices had more than quadrupled after the 1973 Arab-Israeli War and the Arab oil boycott. Jidda was awash with money and foreign dignitaries of every description. The battle for hotel space was as savage as that for contracts. To the Saudis, the future looked bright. Their bugbear, Nasser, had died in 1972, and the disruptive force of Arab nationalism was dieseling out after the humiliation of the 1976 Arab-Israeli war. My Saudi friends were self-congratulatory, even smug, that the true faith had–no surprise–bested “godless, atheistic communism.” In so many words, friends would ask: How could an ideology produced by a German Jew (Karl Marx) or another by some Arab Christian (Baath Party founder Michel Aflak) hold its own against the true essence of God’s revelation? Nor did they believe Saudi society needed lessons in democracy from the morally ambiguous West. Saudis enjoyed the best of all democracies, i.e., “Islamic democracy,” where all citizens’ views could be given a hearing through each of their personal links to power that remained functional and enduring in Saudi society. My friends were sure it was no accident that God had revealed his Koran to an Arabian in Arabia, and afterwards had blessed the Kingdom with such economic and social justification. Saudi Arabia’s per capita income was close to rivaling that of the United States. In those days, many of my Saudi friends saw the Kingdom as a theodicy, “an end of history.” Some were astonished that I, who had extensive knowledge of and clearly some empathy for their culture, did not become a Muslim. The minister of defense, Prince Sultan, passed word that if I converted, he would give my son, born in 1975, Saudi citizenship. (I thanked the prince for his generous offer, but explained that I–however misguidedly–could not part with the faith of my fathers.) The Saudis were not altogether mistaken in their self-congratulation. Their ideology had in fact stood the test of time and current challenges far better than the imported varieties. Their political system also–for those willing to look below the surface–had shown remarkable resilience. A good Foreign Ministry friend once explained that Westerners were wrong in supposing that there were no political parties in Saudi Arabia. There was a single, all-powerful party, one that operated far, far better than Nasser’s comic-opera “Arab Socialist Union” or the “sclerotic communism of the USSR.” That party was the royal family. It could count on the active loyalty–ensured by powerful blood ties, not ideology–of 10,000 princes easily. “Call them cadres if you wish.” These princely ties extended throughout Saudi society through alliances with numerous notable and quasi-royal families. And all were further knit together by the knowledge that they sat atop the greatest source of geologic wealth ever vouchsafed to mankind–and by knowing that, should they fall out amongst themselves, their envious neighbors, especially Jordan, would snap up the pieces. “The result,” I was told, “is a super-conductive network of command and control without parallel in the Arab world.” I tended to agree. A mildly frank observation by a U.S. embassy officer about one of the royals elicited a warning within hours from the minister of the interior to the effect that the individual had better watch his tongue or leave the Kingdom. Saudi rulers could also be wisely forbearing. “Not like that animal Saddam.” King Faisal had publicly restored to favor a prominent dissident intellectual, after years of imprisonment. And during those years, Faisal had continued to pay the man’s salary to his family–thus linking control with forbearance. My friend compared Faisal’s style with that of the Caliph Muawiyah, who said, “If even a hair links me to another, should he pull, I will give, but when he ceases to pull, I will draw him in.” The extremists’ seizure of the Mosque of Mecca in 1979, however, might have warned the Saudi government of problems inherent in making Islam a formal pillar of the state. But when the Soviet Union invaded Afghanistan in the same year, the Saudis pushed ahead even more vigorously with their Islamic “public diplomacy.” They stuck with what in their eyes was a winner. In 1987, when I returned to Saudi Arabia as chief of mission, the Saudi government was proud to stand at the head of an anti-communist crusade for the liberation of Afghanistan, fueled by Saudi (and American) money and more than a few Saudi volunteers. I recall a visit to Riyadh in which then-CIA Director William Casey presented King Fahd with a shiny, detailed Kalashnikov. Its stock featured a brass plaque explaining that the weapon had been taken from the body of a Russian officer. Mr. Casey might as well have been giving the keys to the Kingdom of God itself. The king rose, flourished the weapon, and struck a martial pose. The last Soviet forces left Afghanistan in early 1989. The Kingdom could rightly share in the triumph. Just two years later, in 1991, the U.S. military operations “Desert Shield” and “Desert Storm” again gave Saudis reason to see themselves as uniquely favored by God. We had (of course) dispatched a mighty army to rescue the Kingdom from the threat of the tyrant Saddam Hussein and “atheistic Iraqi Baathism.” Our military officers in Arabia observed at the time that our sacrifices were received by the Saudis as no less than their due. By the 1990s, however, internal pressures on the regime grew. Saudi Arabia’s population had begun to double every 17 years–to the delight of Crown Prince Abdullah. But these additions to the work force had neither marketable skills nor any significant work ethic. At the embassy, our best recruiting efforts yielded only one Saudi employee: the ambassador’s driver. Per capita incomes slumped toward the $5,000 range. Social friction and class divisions were rising. The homogeneity of Saudi public life was waning. Young Saudis could sometimes access the Internet. It was becoming widely known that Prince Sultan alone may have had five palaces in Riyadh. Millions of young men–isolated from any normal contact with women–seethed with boredom and sexual frustration. Tapes of “Baywatch” and plain pornography were exceedingly popular. Saudi wives, often mured up in nasty, concrete-block bungalows, collectively suffered from depression and other mental health problems. The tragedies of some American women married to Saudi nationals gave the embassy occasional but instructive insights into the pathology of Saudi folkways. The U.S. was rarely of help to these women. Until quite recently, criticism of Saudi Arabia was deflected by American apologists who would refer to “Saudi exceptionalism.” Isn’t Saudi Arabia undemocratic? No, say the Saudis, Crown Prince Abdullah and other senior princes meet with all manner of citizens and seek their views! Doesn’t it lack a constitution? Deny religious freedom to other faiths? Have a weak human rights record? No matter, Saudis would say. In the Koran, God Himself had dictated to Muhammad–in Arabic–the only and final word concerning other religions, human rights, and every aspect of man’s life on earth. How could one speak in the same breath of some UNESCO statement and God’s own infallible dispensation? U.S. discussions with Saudi officials at the highest levels often dealt with security, military sales, the latest U.S. “peace initiative,” economic cooperation, and sometimes intelligence exchanges. But in the back of the Saudi king’s mind was always the belief that, so long as the Kingdom remained helpful to the U.S. through its strategic cooperation in oil production and pricing (20 percent of U.S. oil imports come from Saudi Arabia) and purchasing billions of dollars of U.S. military equipment and training, he could deflect our requests on domestically sensitive issues (such as kidnapped American children) to an always-later time. The record has shown the Saudis to be right. They, in effect, cooperated with the United States against the common threat of communism and left-wing radicalism; in exchange, the United States did not often contest how the Saudi government went about its business at home. In the twenty-first century, however, Saudi Arabia and the United States are forced to confront a new common enemy: Islamic radicalism. The Saudis were at first slow in recognizing jihadist Islam as a threat. For years they practiced denial. Their reaction to the June 1996 Khobar Towers attack, in which 19 American soldiers were killed, was to delay, obfuscate, and deny. So was their first reaction to 9/11: It’s inconceivable that 15 of the 19 hijackers might have been Saudis! More recent events, however, such as the professionally executed quadruple bombings in Riyadh in May 2003 and the suicide bombing of a security forces building in April last year–not to mention attacks on Western workers–are changing the regime’s attitude. Concerning the May 2003 attacks, Crown Prince Abdullah declared “there is no place for terror” in his country, and vowed to “destroy” the group responsible for these attacks. Another Saudi official called the bombings “a declaration of war against Saudi Arabia.” This January, toward the end of the current month of pilgrimage, Saudi Arabia’s grand mufti, Shaikh Abdul Aziz Al al-Shaikh also denounced terrorism. But the May attack on Al Khobar, with its 22 deaths, and the murder of Paul Johnson showed the Saudi Arabian government and the U.S. that the threat from Islamic terror was still active. What can we say about the Saudi Arabian government’s ongoing response? Saudi Intelligence cooperation on foreign and Arab issues will be nothing new. For decades that has been a key element in our strategic partnership. But the Saudi government always preferred to shield domestic developments, particularly those that involved the ruling family, from prying foreign eyes. If they let the United States follow the big money trail, where might that trail lead? It would assuredly lead to some Saudis of high degree, who for various reasons gave money to al-Qaeda. The contributors might have done so out of habit, like buying a ticket to the policemen’s ball. Or they might have done so to buy protection, or because they actually supported al-Qaeda’s mission. For sure, some Saudis, like many other Arabs, felt a certain schadenfreude over 9/11. There are three reasons why the Saudi government is likely to stop stonewalling with regard to terrorist financing and other common actions against the jihadists. First, the direct threat to the royal family itself from al-Qaeda, and jihadist Islam in general, is now clear and direct. Second, the U.S. interventions in Afghanistan and Iraq have made it equally clear that terrorism is one issue for which Uncle Sam will not take no for an answer. Third, one gets the impression that the entrée of the Saudi ambassador in Washington is no longer what it was in the days of Bush 41. The Saudi Arabian government’s June decision to place charitable fund-giving under central control may help cauterize some of this suspect donor activity. Saudi cooperation on matters of security interest to us is feasible–especially if that cooperation proceeds “with muffled oars,” minimizing the public visibility of a Saudi policy shift. But we will have to keep up steady pressure on the Saudis and show uncommon consistency of purpose at all levels of our government. The President himself must be tough and persistent. Years of U.S. deference to the royal family have made the Saudis uncommonly resistant to requests by ambassadors and the Department of State. U.S. Congressmen would often arrive in Arabia full of righteous criticisms at these “anachronistic sheikhs,” only to emerge noticeably subdued after an audience in the overwhelming, fairy-tale palace of the king. It’s possible that the Saudi government will work with us in the fight against international jihadist Islam, while becoming a more overtly repressive police state that rules not on the basis of Arab traditions or social covenant, but via a formidable, ruthless, authoritarian cadre. There will be gestures toward reform–Crown Prince Abdullah’s cabinet of 1995 looked good in the shop window to foreign observers: 14 Ph.D.s among 17 non-royal cabinet members! Those foreign-trained Ph.D.s, however, have no power base and are bound to the regime by their personal interests. That power will remain, for the near future, in the same practiced hands that it has for decades. And when today’s senior-most princes finally give way to successors, we can expect the domestic policies and practices of the past–apart from a window dressing of democratization–not to change much. Neither should one look for change from the almost universal Arab disposition to “mitosis.” The Saudi Royal Family, Inc. has its factions, i.e., the powerful, full-brother “Sudairy Seven” princes have little love for their half-brother, Crown Prince Abdullah, who has reformist tendencies and possesses popular authenticity. Nonetheless, the royal family has shown a unique ability in the Arab World to avoid division–and hence to avoid being overthrown either from without or within. It may well be that the Saudis will continue to find utility in their policies of the past 40 years–that is, to cooperate with the United States on common strategic and security concerns while keeping the U.S. at arm’s length on a wide range of American “druthers.” This would include many domestic social, political, and religious issues, where the Saudi position will remain contrary to what the United States is pledged to stand for. Such a government would resemble some of its despotic neighbors. Will we continue to show forbearance to Saudi Arabia’s domestic policies because of its oil and, now, its importance to us in the battle against Osama bin Laden and jihadist Islam? It will be interesting to see how the United States reacts if Saudi Arabia pursues a governing style at home similar to Hafez al-Asad’s Syria. Hume Horan served as U.S. ambassador to Saudi Arabia, Sudan, Ivory Coast, and Cameroon/Equatorial Guinea, and recently as a senior counselor to the Coalition Provisional Authority in Iraq. Iran A House Divided By Daniel Kennelly When the twenty-fifth anniversary of the Islamic Republic rolled by on April 1, one thing was clear to Iranians–Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini’s revolution is a shambles. Iran’s ruling clerics have won for their country only international isolation and crippling U.S. sanctions. Even the regime itself estimates that unemployment among 15- to 30-year-olds is nearly 30 percent. In a post-9/11 world, Iran’s support for terrorism and pursuit of nuclear weapons make it a present danger to the U.S. At the same time, Iran offers serious grounds for optimism. Its political system is more open than that of any of the Arab countries to its west, save, one hopes, the new Iraq. Satellite television, though technically illegal, is widespread. There are parliamentary elections (rigged, to be sure), and two of its vice presidents are women. Discontent with the status quo is pervasive and politicized. With memories of one revolution still fresh in many Iranians’ minds, it increasingly looks as if the country has the makings for a second. Discussions about Iran tend to focus on two opposing groups: the conservative clerics, led by Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, who keep Khomeini’s dream alive; and the reformers, led by Iranian President Mohammad Khatami, who seek to gradually open up Iran’s moribund politics and economy to the world. This depiction is true, but incomplete, as Ramin Jahanbegloo, an Iranian scholar living in Tehran, wrote last year in the Journal of Democracy. The reality of Iranian politics is “characterized by multiple and competing power centers whose rivalries have created a chaotic situation in which various shades and types of ‘reformism’ and ‘conservatism’ interact in often bewildering ways.” Bewildering, yes, but these “shades and types” also represent the most likely means of breaking Iran’s political gridlock. Many Iran-watchers refer to one such competing power center as the Third Force: the growing number of predominantly young activists who yearn for real political and economic reform, and believe that both the clerics and so-called reformers in parliament are cut from the same cloth. Within this gathering movement are students, intellectuals, activists, expatriates, and many members of Iran’s middle class. And they are sophisticated enough, says Ray Takeyh, an Iran expert at National Defense University, “to know what’s wrong with their country and who’s responsible for it.” This large segment of Iranian society cannot be contained indefinitely. Since 1998, it has gradually disengaged from the official political process–witness the abysmal voter turnout in the February 20 parliamentary elections, in which the hard-line Guardian Council disqualified large numbers of reformist candidates. The discontent of this segment was conveyed earlier this year at the American Enterprise Institute when a large audience had the opportunity to hear individual Iranians’ live telephone testimonies from inside the Islamic Republic. These Iranians expressed a mixture of apathy for the present and optimism for a freer future, as well as doubts about what the United States can (or should) do to catalyze the process. There is another group, however, that some Iran experts think could play a more immediate role in breaking Iran’s political stalemate: the “pragmatic conservatives.” Led by former president Ali Akbar Hashemi Rafsanjani, this group realizes that positioning one’s country to receive only the U.S. stick but none of the carrots is uncommonly stupid. Thus in a Friday sermon shortly after Baghdad fell last April, Rafsanjani remarked, “Our ideology is flexible. [T]o put the country in jeopardy on the grounds that we are acting on an Islamic basis is not at all Islamic.” Pragmatic conservatives recognize that Iran’s debates over democracy and Islam, or support for Hamas and Hezbollah, will not be settled anytime soon. Though they oppose political and social liberalization, the pragmatists also care little for fighting Islam’s culture wars. Instead, they suggest putting all gridlock-producing issues on the backburner in order to address consensus issues, such as the urgent need to reform Iran’s reeling economy. The U.S. military is now entrenched in Iraq, Afghanistan, the Gulf emirates, and many of the former Soviet republics of Central Asia. American power literally surrounds Iran. The difficulty in leveraging this power is caused by what experts call the “two track” nature of the problem. On one track, moving slowly (and sometimes seeming to move backwards), is Iran’s inevitable political transformation. On the other, moving much faster, is the regime’s pursuit of a nuclear weapons capability. Iran-watchers suggest the United States can therefore adopt one of at least three strategies that proved successful in dealing with the Soviet Union, China, and Libya. The first approach could be described as catalyzing democratic change, and its antecedent is Reagan’s rollback of the Soviet Union. This approach seeks to capitalize on America’s unprecedented position of power vis-à-vis Iran to change not only Iran’s external behavior, but the regime itself. (Just as Reagan insisted that the Soviet regime’s aggressive, deceitful character determined its policies, not the other way around). Recognizing the two track nature of the problem, proponents of rollback argue that American power (for starters, covert ops, ratcheting up the rhetoric, and aiding liberal Iranian media) can accelerate the slow track of Iran’s democratization until it overtakes the fast-track nuclear ambitions of Iran’s mullahs. The Iranian people, it is hoped, will pursue a peaceful foreign policy and forsake nukes. In this scenario, America’s security interests and moral ideals and the aspirations of the Iranian people, form a harmonious, three-pronged attack on Tehran’s unelected mullahs. “You want something to break the status quo, which has given us an advanced weapons program and near paralysis among the reformers,” says AEI fellow Reuel Marc Gerecht, a leading advocate for regime change in Iran. “America’s primary goal would be to galvanize Iran’s internal debate in favor of the democratic reformers.” Critics have listed several drawbacks to this approach, not least among them the fact that Iran’s drive for nuclear weapons is actually a policy with wide popular appeal, not just an elite clerical agenda. Furthermore, increasing Iran’s sense of insecurity would only benefit the clerics, who would use the opportunity to clamp down even harder on the reformers, redouble their efforts to develop an indigenous nuclear fuel cycle, and possibly make life hell for the United States in Iraq and Afghanistan. Another criticism of rollback is more severe, but harder to support: that the United States is completely powerless to influence Iran’s domestic politics. Jahangir Amuzegar, a former finance minister and economic ambassador in Iran’s pre-1979 government, argued in Foreign Affairs a year ago, “Events within Iran will dictate the U.S. posture rather than the other way around….” In fact, Amuzegar concluded, because Iranians are naturally and profoundly skeptical of foreigners, the United States has everything to lose and nothing to gain by meddling in the country’s internal turf wars. The two other strategies the United States could pursue follow from the criticisms listed above. Both presuppose the honesty and influence of Iran’s pragmatic conservatives–that they have renounced an ideological foreign policy in favor of a more “rational” calculus of national interest. These models require U.S. policymakers to put aside the Iranian people’s democratic aspirations, hold their noses, and strike a deal. Needless to say, there are reservations here, too. The first strategy is deal-making on a grand scale, and its precedent is Libya. (See more on Libya on page 38.) Proponents argue that the recent breakthrough with Libya testifies that crushing economic sanctions can, over time, change a regime’s fundamental calculus. Iran’s pragmatic conservatives, it is thought, would be willing to put their nuclear program on the bargaining table if that generated foreign investment, encouraged structural economic reforms, and delivered relief from sanctions. “What we’ve never done,” explains Geoffrey Kemp, an Iran expert at the Nixon Center, “is spell out to the Iranians what they’ll get” if they dramatically alter their behavior. As with Libya, making serious, verifiable progress in return for lifting economic sanctions is a highly enticing carrot for economically decimated rogue states. At the same time, U.S. domestic politics would not allow a deal on nuclear weapons alone; Iran’s support for terrorism must also be on the table. This includes a change in Iran’s refusal to turn over its al-Qaeda prisoners, which is presently not in the clerics’ interest given the likelihood that they would implicate Iranian officials if questioned. The final approach holds that catalyzing regime change and cutting a grand bargain are presently impossible, but that a string of smaller bilateral deals are doable. Takeyh contends that Iranian foreign policy has not only renounced critical elements of its revolutionary ideology, it has moved beyond pragmatism as well. He calls Iran’s new approach “compartmentalization” and argues the precedent within U.S. foreign policy is China: Though two countries compete and disagree over fundamental principles, America’s interests are better served through working relations on issues of common concern than they are through righteous disengagement. Not surprisingly, many Iran experts reject the very notion of a deal, even if they believed one were possible. These critics cite at least four drawbacks. First, President Bush has repeatedly stressed that supporting tyranny over freedom is neither moral nor productive. Backtracking now would produce “a devastating effect on the pro-democracy movement in Iran.” Second, the clerics will negotiate dishonestly in order to stall until their nuclear and ideological ambitions are fulfilled. And they wouldn’t have to stall for long: It’s entirely possible that by the end of next year Iran could begin to produce enough fissionable material to make a score or more of weapons a year. Third, U.S. deal-making would signal to America’s allies that Iran is exclusively a U.S. problem. Finally, striking a bilateral deal requires serious verification, and even if the Iranians allowed the International Atomic Energy Agency to conduct intrusive inspections, there is no assurance that such inspections could penetrate Iran’s tangled and competing layers of bureaucracy. For U.S. foreign policy to stand a better chance of success, America’s statesmen must establish clear priorities. If regime change is a major priority for this administration, it must be willing to accept the requisite trade-offs. Hoarding U.S. power for such a big-ticket item as a future Iranian democracy requires one to refuse smaller, often significant deals. On the other hand, should one opt instead for those smaller, expedient deals, one must recognize that supping with the devil carries its own costs. Confused? You should be. About the only sure thing one can say of the tangled web of Iranian diplomacy is this: Time is a very limited resource. Daniel Kennelly is a TAE senior editor. Pakistan Roller Coaster Riding with General Musharraf By Simon Henderson Relations between the U.S. and Pakistan are an emotional roller-coaster ride. In January of this year, Washington was concerned that President Pervez Musharraf had just narrowly survived two assassination attempts within one month. In February, President Musharraf was balancing relations with Washington and his own domestic political popularity by publicly condemning and then pardoning the country’s top nuclear scientist–a national hero–for selling nuclear secrets to North Korea, Iran, and Libya. Officials in both the U.S. and Europe have since indicated there could be other countries that were customers. Then, in June, terrorists in Karachi nearly succeeded in assassinating the local military commander, one of Musharraf’s most senior colleagues. Where this roller-coaster ride will be by year’s end is anyone’s guess, a state of affairs which gives little comfort to the U.S. policymakers trying to determine how to handle Pakistan. On paper, Pervez Musharraf is a military leader Washington can work with. Few doubt his personal bravery: He was honored for his conduct as a young soldier in the 1965 war with India. By the time of the 1971 war he was a company commander in Pakistan’s elite commando unit. He then rose to become the commander of the main army formation facing India before promotion to chief of army staff. His political view is appealing as well: He lived in Turkey as a teenager and respects that nation and its secular democracy. The fact that he came to power by ousting an elected leader was excusable: Nawaz Sharif was almost hopelessly corrupt. And since 9/11, Musharraf has been on Washington’s side, providing facilities for U.S. forces and reining in the Islamic elements in his own armed forces who had worked with the Taliban and al-Qaeda. Few people are privy to the political discussions of the Pakistani military top brass. But the questions addressed in the messes probably concern issues like the tenuousness of Musharraf’s hold on public support; his potential successor, should an assassination attempt succeed; and the humiliation of Pakistan’s national hero, nuclear scientist Dr. Abdul Qadeer Khan. Similar discussions are probably going on among Pakistan’s top bureaucrats, the career civil servants who administer the country whether an elected government or the military is in power. Together, the bureaucratic-military elite make up the most permanent part of the Pakistani political system. This is not to say there are not sharp differences between the two. But the elite recognize their national responsibility and, crucially, have a sense of the possible. Since its independence in 1947, tensions between Pakistan and India have been constant over the disputed (and currently divided) region of Kashmir, whose Muslim population lives under Indian control. Following the secession of East Pakistan, which became Bangladesh in 1971, Pakistan has also been concerned with the integrity of the nation. The development of nuclear weapons, spurred on by India’s nuclear test in 1974, was meant to provide guarantees. But despite its successful tests in 1998 and the development of nuclear-capable missiles, Pakistan now finds itself in an arms race with its neighbor, which, given its much smaller economy, it just cannot win. In 1998, Dr. Khan and I discussed the dangers of an arms race, and he agreed with me that it was futile. So why did it accelerate? Western officials have told me that the Pakistani tests in 1998 were more successful than the Indian test, and the new Pakistani missiles, based on Chinese and North Korean designs, were superior to their Indian equivalents. I suspect that Pakistan thought it had a window of opportunity in which to press India for concessions on Kashmir. But there were no concessions, perhaps because the Indians did not realize they were at a disadvantage. Or perhaps they thought they should not display weakness toward their smaller neighbor. The world changed with 9/11, and Pakistan’s and India’s relations with it. Pakistan discovered it had become far too close to the Taliban regime in Afghanistan. India realized that international concern over Pakistan’s nuclear weapons and Taliban connections could be played to its own advantage. In the current cir |
主题 | Uncategorized |
URL | https://www.aei.org/articles/so-whats-happening-in-the-rest-of-the-middle-east-2/ |
来源智库 | American Enterprise Institute (United States) |
资源类型 | 智库出版物 |
条目标识符 | http://119.78.100.153/handle/2XGU8XDN/239103 |
推荐引用方式 GB/T 7714 | karina-rollins,Hume Horan,daniel-kennelly,等. So What’s Happening in the Rest of the Middle East?. 2004. |
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