A history of violence: Western empires in the Middle East
By Ussama Makdisi (Al-Jazeera)
Neither the U.S. government nor its opponents in the Middle East
are interested in democracy except when and where it suits them, and neither do
they show any interest in following international law. But the U.S. appears
especially oblivious to a tragic history in which it has been deeply
complicit.
When the U.S. occupied Iraq in 2003, the Bush administration
said that it was interested not in oil but in ridding Iraq of a dangerous
tyrant and thereby promoting freedom. Three years later, it encouraged Israel
to launch a devastating war on Lebanon in an unsuccessful attempt to destroy
Hezbollah and to build a “new” Middle East. A decade later, America has washed
its hands of Iraq, leaving behind a country in ruin, countless Iraqis dead,
toxic depleted uranium that has been linked to an alarming number of birth
defects, and a fragmented society mired in sectarian violence.
The Obama administration now
urgently insists that the Bashar al-Assad regime in Syria
has crossed a “red line” because of its alleged use of chemical weapons. Even
before the current, brutal civil war in its country, the Assad regime has been
manifestly violent toward its own people -- whether or not it has actually used
chemical weapons hardly matters on this score.
The problem, beyond
the alleged use of chemical weapons (as terrible as these weapons are), is
that Arab regimes, including but not limited to Syria, as well as the U.S. and
Israel, have collectively abused the human rights of people across the region
and ignored their genuine desire for self-determination. They have done this
mostly with so-called conventional weapons, conventional intelligence services,
and conventional police forces and armies. The horrors of Sabra and Shatila in
1982, in which Israeli-backed Phalangist militias slaughtered Palestinians in
Beirut refugee camps, did not involve chemical weapons, though Saddam Hussein’s
1988 massacre of Kurds in Halabja
did.
U.S.-led missile strikes, sanctions and wars in the Middle East
have added layer upon layer of violence in a part of the world already
saturated with it. None of these actions has mitigated the humanitarian
situation of the inhabitants of the region. Rather, these military campaigns --
and the anodyne language of “degrading assets” and “precision bombing” that
habitually accompanies them -- have dehumanized the Arab conscripts and
civilians who are invariably on the receiving end of these campaigns. They
reinforce a misleading notion that the current predicament of the Arab world is
essentially one of its own making.
The
U.S. has long buttressed an anti-democratic political culture in the Middle
East.
At stake is not just morality, but also
history. The violence embodied by the Syrian regime, in other words, is not
simply the work of a solitary dictator. Rather, it is a systemic Middle Eastern
tragedy in which the West, including the U.S., has been profoundly implicated
for at least a century. The old colonial powers of Britain and France,
and today, the U.S., are not neutral observers, nor impartial judges, of the
Middle East. They have done much to make the region what it is today. Britain
and France created new states in 1920 from the defeated Ottoman Empire; they
spoke of self-determination, but crushed Arab resistance to their colonial
domination. French forces infamously bombed Damascus in 1925 to enforce their subjugation
of Syria. The British ruthlessly crushed uprisings in Iraq and Palestine in the
1920s and 1930s.
The U.S., in turn, has tried repeatedly to reshape the Arab
world to suit its putative interests. Unlike Britain and France, it speaks the
language of partnership and peace, not of mandates and empire. Ever since 1948,
however, the U.S. has both wanted to privilege Israel and secure oil from
conservative pro-American monarchies — to ostensibly build a stable
pro-American Middle East by changing Arabs rather than changing the U.S.’s
priorities in the region. And ever since, there has been protracted Arab
resistance to this notion that Arabs must conform to American expectations of
them in their own part of the world.
The U.S. has long buttressed an anti-democratic political
culture in the Middle East by supporting the Shah of Iran until his overthrow
in 1979, absolutist Gulf monarchies, Israeli colonialism, and authoritarianism
in Egypt. It has also generated significant new forms of resistance to
its vision of a docile pro-American regional order, evident today mainly in the
form of an Iranian-Syrian-Hezbollah axis.
There is little way to reconcile the ostensible American need
to teach Assad a humanitarian lesson with the reality that Western and
American interests in the Arab world, just as much as Assad’s own interests
inside Syria, have long been made to depend on the suppression of genuine
democracy and the crushing of popular will. Western solicitude for the Arabs is
ephemeral. Hubristic western intrusions into their lives are not.