Former U.S. Ambassador to the United Nations, Iraq, and Afghanistan Zalmay Khalilzad delivered a 2010 Payne Lecture, "The Struggle for the Broader Middle East: Where We Are and Where We Need to Go" on May 17, 2010, in FSI's Bechtel Conference Center. A diplomat and strategist, Khalilzad helped organize the first meeting of Afghanistan's parliament, facilitated the ratification of Iraq's constitution, worked actively to quell sectarian violence, and was instrumental in U.N. efforts to address Iran's nuclear program.

"Not a single one of the 23 countries that derive most of their export earnings from oil and gas is a democracy today," wrote CDDRL Director Larry Diamond in an an article for the Journal of Democracy, Why Are There No Arab Democracies? In these countries, the state is "large, centralized, and repressive," he notes. Diamond comments in Newsweek about Iraq's prospects for escaping the oil curse.

On February 17, 2010 the Program on Good Governance and Political Reform in the Arab World at CDDRL held its inaugural seminar with Prof. Philippe C. Schmitter, Professor Emeritus, European University Institute, Florence and Visiting Scholar at CDDRL and Dr. Sean Yom, Hewlett Postdoctoral Fellow at CDDRL.

The seminar was titled Exploring the missing link between liberalization and democratization in the Middle East. The seminar aimed to start a public discussion on one of the routine assumptions of students of democratization, which is that there is a close, causal relationship between liberalization and democratization. The former is said to drive those who concede it toward convoking credible elections and, eventually, tolerating ruler accountability to citizens. The link between those processes of regime transformation is alleged to be the mobilization of civil society. It has been argued that the weakness or absence of this linkage is one (among many) of the conditions which make the polities of the Middle East and North Africa resistant to democratization.

In his response to this argument, Philippe Schmitter began by saying that in the work that he started on Southern Europe and Latin America, there was a distinction between democratization and liberalization. Once an autocratic regime enters a process of liberalization, it faces unexpected consequences. Thus, the most vulnerable time for a regime is when it starts to reform itself. Some of the consequences of this process are the resurrection of civil society, more freedom of expression and movement, the release of political prisoners and the freer operation of political parties. Such consequences are what liberalization means.

Schmitter argued that all autocratic regimes have tried this process, and that this process is normally triggered by divisions within the regimes or succession struggles, where regimes feel the need to open up. The kind of liberalization that takes place depends on the type of autocracy present. But the objective of liberalization, Schmitter said, is to coopt and produce a large social basis for autocracy, for example, through cultivating political parties that agree not to be too oppositional.

Schmitter added that many autocracies are under pressure from external regimes. Most of the countries in the Middle East have some kind of agreement with the EU for example, which carries clauses on issues like the rule of law. Another factor is that liberalization is selective in its inclusion, focusing on the urban middle class. It is thus "voluntary", conceded from above by the regime, and not based on any form of mobilization from below. In other words, Schmitter argued that regimes choose to liberalize and are not forced to do so. Thus, regimes are limited in their scope of liberalization (elections for example are not always genuinely free). He then presented a scale of measures of autocracy liberalization, saying that the most difficult measure in the Middle East is that of releasing political prisoners, while the easiest measure is concessions on the level of human rights.

He presented the hypothesis is that almost all efforts at democratization are preceded by liberalization. This is triggered by the resurrection of civil society, which itself is triggered when the costs of repression increase quite significantly and a regime is faced with the question of is it "better" to repress or tolerate? Often, in this case, regimes choose to tolerate the self organization of groups that are not tolerated otherwise. But mobilization of such groups, like lawyer groups, may lead to mobilization on the street. Schmitter said that although Arab regimes liberalize, this kind of process does not normally happen in the Middle East. Liberalization occurs then declines without the regimes suffering many consequences. He finished by stating that there seems to be something in the Middle East region that encourages liberalization, but that leads this liberalization to decline.

Sean Yom responded by saying that for the last 10 years, scholars of democratization literature have made ethnocentric assumptions about this issue. He argued that it is almost assumed that democracy is easy, but what actually happens at the end stage of liberalization is complex. He said that if we take a historical view of the Middle East, the literature says that regimes are durable. But countries like Iran, Iraq, Libya and Syria have all witnessed regime termination. The dictators today in the Arab world are merely the winners of the state-building process.  So why is liberalization not followed by democratization for these survivors?

Yom argued that distinctive regimes have distinctive ways through which they liberalize but not democratize. He related the lack of democratization following on from liberalization to two key questions: Why are there no elite splits in the public arena during times of crisis? And why has the middle class not staked any sacrifice to demand more of a democratic and revolutionary change?

He presented two reasons: the first is that many current regimes have well institutionalized methods of dealing with elite splits before they hit the public domain. Hegemonic ruling provide one such mechanism. The National Democratic Party in Egypt, the Neo-Destur of Tunisia, and the Baath parties in Syria and Iraq for example were able to coopt/isolate softline elites well before their conflict became rebellion.  Yom argued that in monarchical autocracies, incumbents have just as well-institutionalized mechanisms of co-optation that revolve around the palace; such networks were developed shortly after colonial rule, and were designed to effectively enshrine a certain distribution of power.

The second reason, Yom argued, lays in the nature of social opposition.  No dictator liberalizes because they want to give up power.  That is, they do not liberalize to achieve democracy; they liberalize in order to survive in the face of burgeoning social unrest.  The problem is that in the MENA context, the so-called "middle-sector"-labor, professionals, intellectuals, and other urban forces-have not staked out sacrifice to their demands for greater freedom, when push comes to shove.  One reason is that they were incorporated into ruling coalitions early on in the state-building process, and that such early coalitional bargains that traded loyalty for prosperity have proven durable even during economic crises in the 1980s and 1990s.  For instance, large-scale employment in the public sector to certain groups is a common side-payment.  Countries like Jordan and Bahrain exploit population cleavages (the Palestinians and the Shiites, respectively, being the key factors), where the regimes operate an optimal mix of loyalty and oppression/coercion.  In these cases, leaders strategically choose to incorporate different constituents into different networks of patronage.

The presentations were followed by a question and answer sessions where additional factors were discussed and others elaborated on, such as the role of Islamists; authoritarian pacts with the West especially in the cases of "countries that are too important to be politically conditioned" as Schmitter put it, or in the case of illegal Western dealings with Middle East states which makes it difficult for the West to present them with reform conditions; the absence of independent middle classes; and the issue of political prisoners, who are the hardest to coopt by any given regime, and hence tend to be kept inside prisons.

In this op-ed, CISAC's Richard Rhodes argues that public health, a discipline that organizes science-based systems of surveillance and prevention, has been primarily responsible for controlling the effects of infectious disease. A similar campaign around public safety could help end the existential threat posed by nuclear weapons. Such a push would help create unity in common security and a fundamental transformation in relationships between nations, Rhodes argues.

Today, at the other end of the long trek down the glacier of the Cold War, the nuclear threat has seemingly calved off and fallen into the sea. In 2007, the Pew Research Center's Global Attitudes Project found that 12 countries rated the growing gap between rich and poor as the greatest danger to the world. HIV/AIDS led the list (or tied) in 16 countries, religious and ethnic hatred in another 12. Pollution was identified as the greatest menace in 19 countries, while substantial majorities in 25 countries thought global warming was a "very serious" problem. Only nine countries considered the spread of nuclear weapons to be the greatest danger to the world.

The response was very different among nuclear and national security experts when Indiana Republican Sen. Richard Lugar surveyed PDF them in 2005. This group of 85 experts judged that the possibility of a WMD attack against a city or other target somewhere in the world is real and increasing over time. The median estimate of the risk of a nuclear attack somewhere in the world by 2010 was 10 percent. The risk of an attack by 2015 doubled to 20 percent median. There was strong, though not universal, agreement that a nuclear attack is more likely to be carried out by a terrorist organization than by a government. The group was split 45 to 55 percent on whether terrorists were more likely to obtain an intact working nuclear weapon or manufacture one after obtaining weapon-grade nuclear material.

"The proliferation of weapons of mass destruction is not just a security problem," Lugar wrote in the report's introduction. "It is the economic dilemma and the moral challenge of the current age. On September 11, 2001, the world witnessed the destructive potential of international terrorism. But the September 11 attacks do not come close to approximating the destruction that would be unleashed by a nuclear weapon. Weapons of mass destruction have made it possible for a small nation, or even a sub-national group, to kill as many innocent people in a day as national armies killed in months of fighting during World War II.

"The bottom line is this," Lugar concluded: "For the foreseeable future, the United States and other nations will face an existential threat from the intersection of terrorism and weapons of mass destruction."

It's paradoxical that a diminished threat of a superpower nuclear exchange should somehow have resulted in a world where the danger of at least a single nuclear explosion in a major city has increased (and that city is as likely, or likelier, to be Moscow as it is to be Washington or New York). We tend to think that a terrorist nuclear attack would lead us to drive for the elimination of nuclear weapons. I think the opposite case is at least equally likely: A terrorist nuclear attack would almost certainly be followed by a retaliatory nuclear strike on whatever country we believed to be sheltering the perpetrators. That response would surely initiate a new round of nuclear armament and rearmament in the name of deterrence, however illogical. Think of how much 9/11 frightened us; think of how desperate our leaders were to prevent any further such attacks; think of the fact that we invaded and occupied a country, Iraq, that had nothing to do with those attacks in the name of sending a message.

Richard Butler, the former chairman of the Canberra Commission on the Elimination of Nuclear Weapons and the last chairman of UNSCOM, often makes the point that the problem with nuclear weapons is nuclear weapons. People don't always understand what he means. He means that it is the weapons themselves that are the problem, not the values of the entities that control them. U.S. nuclear weapons are just as potentially dangerous to the world as, say, North Korean nuclear weapons. More, I would say, since we have greater numbers of them and have not hesitated to brandish them--even to use them--when we thought it in our interest to do so.

That the problem with nuclear weapons is nuclear weapons may seem counterintuitive, but two centuries ago governments began to think that way about disease, with untold benefits to humanity as a result. Epidemic disease had been conceived in normative terms, as an act of God for which states bore no responsibility. The change that came when disease began to be conceived as a phenomenon of nature without a metaphysical superstructure, a public health problem, a problem for government and a measure of government's success, was revolutionary. More lives were saved, and spared, with public health measures in the twentieth century in the United States alone than were lost throughout the world in all of the twentieth century's wars.

As my Scottish friend Gil Elliot wrote in his seminal book Twentieth Century Book of the Dead, "[These lives] are not saved by accident or goodwill. Human life is daily deliberately protected from nature by accepted practices of hygiene and medical care, by the control of living conditions and the guidance of human relationships. Mortality statistics are constantly examined to see if the causes of death reveal any areas needing special attention. Because of the success of these practices, the area of public death has, in advanced societies, been taken over by man-made death--once an insignificant or 'merged' part of the spectrum, now almost the whole.

"When politicians, in tones of grave wonder, characterize our age as one of vast effort in saving human life, and enormous vigor in destroying it, they seem to feel they are indicating some mysterious paradox of the human spirit. There is no paradox and no mystery. The difference is that one area of public death has been tackled and secured by the forces of reason; the other has not. The pioneers of public health did not change nature, or men, but adjusted the active relationship of men to certain aspects of nature so that the relationship became one of watchful and healthy respect. In doing so they had to contend with and struggle against the suspicious opposition of those who believed that to interfere with nature was sinful, and even that disease and plague were the result of something sinful in the nature of man himself."

Elliot goes on to compare what he calls "public death," meaning biological death, death from disease, to man-made death: "[I do not wish] to claim mystical authority for the comparison I have made between two kinds of public death--that which results from disease and that which we call man-made. The irreducible virtue of the analogy is that the problem of man-made death, like that of disease, can be tackled only by reason. It contains the same elements as the problem of disease--the need to locate the sources of the pest, to devise preventive measures, and to maintain systematic vigilance in their execution. But it is a much wider problem, and for obvious reasons cannot be dealt with by scientific methods to the same extent as can disease."

To advance the cause of public health it was necessary to depoliticize disease, to remove it from the realm of value and install it in the realm of fact. Today we have advanced to the point where international cooperation toward the prevention, control, and even elimination of disease is possible among nations that hardly cooperate with each other in any other way. No one any longer considers disease a political issue, except to the extent that its control measures a nation's quality of life, and only modern primitives consider it a judgment of God.

In 1999, for the first time in human history, infectious diseases no longer ranked first among causes of death worldwide. Public health, a discipline which organizes science-based systems of surveillance and prevention, was primarily responsible for that millennial change in human mortality. One-half of all the increases in life expectancy in recorded history occurred within the twentieth century. Most of the worldwide increase was accomplished in the first half of the century, and it was almost entirely the result of public health measures directed to primary prevention. Better nutrition, sewage treatment, water purification, the pasteurization of milk, and the immunization of children extended human life--not surgeons cutting or doctors dispensing pills.

Public health is medicine's greatest success story and a powerful model for a parallel discipline, which I propose to call public safety.

Where nuclear weapons--the largest-scale instruments of man-made death--are concerned, the elements of that discipline of public safety have already begun to assemble themselves: materials control and accounting, cooperative threat reduction, security guarantees, agreements and treaties, surveillance and inspection, sanctions, forceful disarming if all else fails.

Reducing and finally eliminating the world's increasingly vestigial nuclear arsenals may be delayed by extremists of the right or the left, as progress was stalled during the George W. Bush administration by rigid Manichaean ideologues who imagined that there might be good nuclear powers and evil nuclear powers and sought to disarm only those they considered evil. Nuclear weapons operate beyond good and evil. They destroy without discrimination or mercy: Whether one lives or dies in their operation is entirely a question of distance from ground zero. In Elliot's eloquent words, they create nations of the dead, and collectively have the capacity to create a world of the dead. But as Niels Bohr, the great Danish physicist and philosopher, was the first to realize, the complement of that utter destructiveness must then be unity in common security, just as it was with smallpox, a fundamental transformation in relationships between nations, nondiscrimination in unity not on the dark side but by the light of day.

Violence originates in vulnerability brutalized: It is vulnerability's corruption, but also its revenge. "Perhaps everything terrible," the poet Rainer Maria Rilke once wrote, "is in its deepest being something helpless that wants help from us." As we extend our commitment to common security, as we work to master man-made death, we will need to recognize that terrible helplessness and relieve it--in others, but also in ourselves.

The coming to power of a new party in Japan, with a strong mandate to rule, is unprecedented in the postwar era. In the aftermath of the Japanese elections in August of this year, there has been much discussion, particularly in the Japanese media, about the foreign policy orientation of the new Democratic Party of Japan (DPJ)-led administration. Some commentators see an “anti-American” tilt—evidenced by differing views on the relocation of U.S. bases in Okinawa and the renewal of Japanese naval refueling operations in the Indian Ocean.

This viewpoint misses the foreign policy forest for its trees. The paradigm-shifting potential of this change lies much more in the DPJ’s desire to re-center Japan’s foreign policy on Asia. Across the spectrum of the DPJ, from former socialists on the left to those who came out of the conservative Liberal Democratio Party (LDP), there is broad agreement on the need to put much greater emphasis on Japan’s ties to the rest of Asia, particularly to China and South Korea.

The new Asianism in Japanese foreign policy was on display at the October 10 triangular summit of the Chinese, South Korean, and Japanese leaders, held in Beijing. It was only the second time these three have met on their own and the meeting was substantive, covering everything from coordinating on North Korea and economic stimulus policy to taking initial steps toward formation of a new East Asian Community. “Until now, we have tended to be too reliant on the United States,” Prime Minister Yukio Hatoyama told reporters after the meeting, adding that “The Japan-U.S. alliance remains important, but as a member of Asia, I would like to develop policies that focus more on Asia.”

The dominant foreign policy camp in Japan has been what Hitoshi Tanaka, a former senior foreign ministry official and close advisor to the DPJ, calls “alliance traditionalists,” whom he defines as those who “place the maintenance of a robust alliance with the United States above all other foreign policy priorities.” In the view of some DPJ policy advisors, the previous conservative governments mistakenly tried to cope with the challenge of a rising China by getting as close to the United States as possible. The decision to send troops to Iraq and the Indian Ocean was prompted not by any deep support for those causes but rather by the belief that this would ensure U.S. support in any tensions with China, and with North Korea.

All this took place as Sino-Japanese relations descended into their most troubled phase in the postwar period, prompted by former Prime Minister Koizumi’s provocative visits to Yasukuni Shrine, which honors Japan’s war dead. High-level contacts with China were frozen, tensions rose over territorial issues in the East China Sea, and rising nationalism on both sides culminated in the outbreak of government-sanctioned anti-Japanese riots in 2005 and a Chinese campaign to block Japan’s permanent membership in the United Nations Security Council.

There was an attempt by Koizumi’s conservative successors to roll back some of these tensions. But those signals were always mixed with the persistence of anti-Chinese views and the powerful camp of rightwing nationalists in and around the LDP who cling to a revisionist view of Japan’s wartime role, some even indulging in a vigorous defense of Japanese imperialism.

In the view of DPJ policy advisers, this pseudo-containment strategy is doomed to failure. Given the increasing economic interdependence between the United States and China, and their overlapping strategic interests, the United States will never form an anti-China front. Japan cannot rely solely, these advisers argue, on the U.S.-Japan security alliance to deal with China’s bid for regional hegemony.

Nor can Japan afford to indulge fantasies of confrontation with China, given its own extensive ties to its economy and society. Rather, the greater threat, in the view of many Japanese analysts, is being abandoned by the United States through the formation of a U.S.-China “Group of Two” that effectively excludes Japan, or relegates it to second-level status in the region.

Japan, those policymakers argue, needs to preempt that threat by engaging Asia on its own—not only China, but the entire region, from India back to Korea. The DPJ’s own policy vision, articulated by Prime Minister Hatoyama, Foreign Minister Katsuya Okada, and party strongman Ichiro Ozawa, remains vaguely defined but has three clear elements:

• The U.S.-Japan security alliance remains the cornerstone, but with limits.
• Japan plays a leadership role in East Asian regionalism.
• The “history” question must be resolved.

What does this mean? There should be little question, particularly after the initial meetings between the new government and the Obama administration, that the DPJ seeks to back away from the security alliance. Over the past fifteen years, the DPJ leadership has not only supported, but even led, the expansion of Japan’s security role, beginning with the passage of the 1992 law permitting Japanese participation
in peacekeeping operations and including the initial dispatch of naval forces to the Indian Ocean in response to 9/11. Though the DPJ has made commitments to reduce the U.S. presence in Okinawa, it is already realizing how difficult that is to accomplish; some kind of compromise on this issue is imminent. Similarly, Foreign Minister Okada’s visit to Afghanistan and Pakistan demonstrated a willingness to contribute, mostly through economic aid, to the security effort in both countries.

Prime Minister Hatoyama presented his somewhat romantic desire to reproduce the European experience to create an East Asian Community in September before the United Nations General Assembly. Hatoyama has indicated that he understands this is a long process, and has been careful to make clear that Japan has no intention of excluding the United States’ role in the region, nor the use of the dollar as a reserve currency. As Hatoyama put in his UN address:

Today, there is no way that Japan can develop without deeply involving itself in Asia and the Pacific region. Reducing the region’s security risks and sharing each other’s economic dynamism based on the principle of “open regionalism” will result in tremendous benefits not only for Japan but also for the region and the international community.

Given the historical circumstances arising from its mistaken actions in the past, Japan has hesitated to play a proactive role in this region. It is my hope that the new Japan can overcome this history and become a “bridge” among the countries of Asia.

I look forward to an East Asian community taking shape as an extension of the accumulated cooperation built up step by step among partners who have the capacity to work together, starting with fields in which we can cooperate—free frade agreements, finance, currency, energy, environment, disaster relief and more. Of course, Rome was not built in a day, so let us seek to move forward steadily on this, even if at a moderate pace.

DPJ policymakers advocate pursuit of an East Asian community as only one of a nest of regional structures, including a regional security system that might grow out of the Six Party talks on North Korea. They also embrace the idea of a Japan-U.S.-China strategic dialogue, based on their own perception that without the combined muscle of the United States and Japan, they cannot bring China to the table on a range of issues from energy to intellectual property.

The last element of the DPJ’s policy vision is to take another major step in clearing away the legacy of the wartime past. Hatoyama personally reaffirmed his government’s adherence to the statement on war responsibility issued by then Prime Minister Murayama in 1995, at the time of the 50th anniversary of the end of the war.

Hatoyama, Ozawa and others in the DPJ leadership are determined to confront the history issue in a way that eases tensions with China and South Korea and also closes doors backward. They will not only refuse to go to the Yasukuni Shrine but also want to remove the Class A war criminals whose “souls” are enshrined there by decision of the shrine authorities, to the consternation of the Emperor, among others. The DPJ led the hue and cry over the unapologetic revisionism of former Japanese air force chief of staff, General Toshio Tamogami, who wrote an essay justifying Japan’s colonialism and wartime aggression, including the attack on Pearl Harbor. Foreign Minister Okada has backed the creation of a joint history textbook by China, Japan and South Korea, based on the model followed by France and Germany. These are stances the LDP has been historically incapable of taking.

The DPJ draws some inspiration from the anti-imperial form of Asianism—“Small Nipponism”—championed by the late Tanzan Ishibashi, who served briefly as premier in the mid-1950s and who was allied to Hatoyama’s beloved grandfather, and former premier, Ichiro Hatoyama.

In the coming months, the Hatoyama government will have numerous opportunities to develop its new policies, particularly in the run-up to Japan’s hosting of the APEC summit next year. Undoubtedly, it will be difficult to implement in practice, but this new Asianism marks a clear turning point in Japan’s postwar foreign policy.