Arab dictators stuck in yesteryear

Although my generation has never been able to classify the Middle East as a stable region, the past couple of months have brought more volatility than even any of us are used to. The collapse of the Tunisian regime on January 14th quickly gave way to the abdication of Egyptian president Hosni Mubarak last Friday, and the unrest has now spread to Yemen, Libya, Iran, Bahrain and Iraq, where different kinds of disgruntled peoples are clashing with the police and causing problems for those in charge. These uprisings are not alike in every way, since each nation has its own set of dissidents with specific, historically based motivations, but there are still some striking similarities.

Almost all of the nations in question have, at best, dubious election processes, if the leaders are even elected at all. The recently ousted Zine el-Abidine Ben Ali of Tunisia and Hosni Mubarak of Egypt had been in power for 23 and almost 30 years, respectively, while Libya’s de facto ruler Muammar el-Qaddafi has maintained his position for 41 years. The average age of these three today is 74. (For reference, the average age of U.S. presidents entering office is 54.) Bahrain has been trapped under the thumb of the al-Khalifa family since the late 18th century and, as many will remember from 2009, Iran’s Mahmoud Ahmadinejad has been accused of rigging elections. Without a legitimate scaffold in place for a peaceful and regular transition of power, leaders often appear to be permanently installed, which is in and of itself a source of frustration for members of their populations.

There is another and more important side effect of static political leadership, and that is the growing gap between a leader’s ideology and the present-day needs of his nation’s people. This discrepancy is demonstrated by regimes that rely on anti-Israeli hate mongering for their power: These leaders are, like anyone, products of their time, a time that came before their own stagnant social and economic policies crippled their nations and rendered their antiquated rhetoric hollow and ineffective. In short, they are hopelessly out of touch.

That almost goes without saying, as the failure of the Arab dictators to grasp the force behind today’s uprisings manifests itself in their responses to them. There have been reports of regimes attempting to arrest and intimidate journalists, as though they were somehow the primary reporters of these conflicts. In reality, it is the young protesters themselves who have been the most vocal, using the Internet to communicate both with one another and the rest of the world. When the governments realized this and responded by slowing and shutting down connections in Egypt and Bahrain, they truly demonstrated the extent to which they fail to understand their younger and coming-of-age citizens. In return, the youth have given the only reasonable response for such an old and obstinate roadblock: Get out of the way.

It remains to be seen whether the emerging protests, some of which are only hundreds deep at this point, will shake foundations on the level of an Egypt or a Tunisia. Likely, some will succeed, some will manage to draw a few much-needed concessions, and the rest might perish or otherwise be put down. The hope, though, is that people and governments from around the world will learn their lessons from the recent goings-on and revolutions in the Middle East. We are seeing before our eyes that outdated philosophies, characterized by leaders who are vestiges of a fading past, are no substitute for political discourse, and that interminable administrations, given over to corruption and national stagnation, will no longer be tolerated by a globally aware people.

Most importantly, we can distill from the revolutions in the Middle East advice that even legitimately democratized nations can heed, especially as their average life expectancies increase and drive down the relative voting power of youth: Don’t stay too long in one place. If you do, it may not be long before someone is telling you that you’ve had your turn, and it’s time to move over because now they want theirs.

Chris Bassil is a Trinity junior. His column runs every Friday.