Iran - the moment of truth

For several years Iran has delayed, obstructed and played for time when negotiating with the IAEA, the EU and the United States over its nuclear programme. But this cannot continue and at some point soon, either they will declare themselves nuclear capable, Israel will launch a pre-emptive strike or a deal will be struck with the U.S. You would most likely bet on the latter, given the internal strife that is occurring within the Islamic republic. The fact that the Obama administration has placed a September deadline on engagement from Iran, that is not open-ended, means that Tehran must quickly decide what they wish to do.

Israel has long predicted that Iran will have enough enriched uranium to build a nuclear weapon by sometime in late 2010. Assuming Iran is prepared to negotiate then, Obama and Khameini will have a year or so to thrash out a deal. But with Khameini's position severely weakened by the recent post-election protests and Ahmadinejad in an even weaker position than he was prior to his "victory", any substantive diplomatic moves seem incalculably complicated. The nuclear clock will still be ticking regardless of the internal power struggle in Iran. It is not inconceivable that a full blown political crisis is taking place in Iran, whilst the country crosses the nuclear threshold. How the rest of world - specifically the United States and Israel - respond under those circumstances is impossible to say.

Following Iran's dramatic June, a quieter July - on the streets at least - has followed. But behind the scenes political struggle has rumbled on. Now Ahmadinejad and Khameini have fallen out over the president elect's choice of vice president, Esfandiar Rahim Mashaie, who had previously describing Iran as a friend of Israelis. Ahmadinejad defied the supreme leaders demand for Mashaie to be sacked. The following day, Ahmadinejad fired the country's Intelligence Minister, Gholam Hossein Mohseni Ejeie, who was subservient to Khameini. This spat - almost unthinkable a month ago - shows the ruptures that have opened since the election. The United States cannot have failed to notice and internal disagreements like this, will weaken the Iranian leadership in any nuclear negotiation.

What happens next to Ahmadinejad is obviously critical. For Khameini to drop him and call another election would be an astonishing turn around. If he was forced out, it would most likely be done in a drawn out manner to avoid such a loss of face for the Supreme leader. The consequences and possible backlash from Ahmadinejad's allies in the Republican Guard could be even more dramatic. Grasping the outcomes for Iranian politics at the moment is extremely challenging, as knowing what exactly is happening in the corridors of power is very difficult and as this is unchartered territory. Such internal dispute has never occurred within Tehran since 1979.

Ahmadinejad could be out then and a compromise between the Khameini camp and the Mousavi-Rafsanjani-Khatami alliance seems a possibility to ease Iran through this period. Who would emerge as president is very unclear. Mousavi regards himself as a defender of Ayatollah Khomeini's Islamic revolution, having served as prime minister in the 1980s. His belief is that Khameini has betrayed the ideals set out from 1979. Given this and ff Mousavi emerges in the power, how he deals with the nuclear negotiations is a whole new question.

Fisk on Arab culture

There was an excellent article today by the Independent's Robert Fisk on Arab culture. Whilst large sections of Arab society are progressive, intelligent and engaging with the modern world, the Arab world as a whole has stagnated and been left behind by the rest of the world. Arguably this failure to flourish, has allowed the West to pursue an often exploitative foreign policy and let Israel undertake repressive policies against the Palestinians with impunity.

Why is the Arab world – let us speak with terrible sharpness – so backward?
Why so many dictators, so few human rights, so much state security and torture,
so terrible a literacy rate?
Why does this wretched place, so rich in oil, have to produce, even in the age of the computer, a population so poorly
educated, so undernourished, so corrupt? Yes, I know the history of Western
colonialism, the dark conspiracies of the West, the Arab argument that you
cannot upset the sheikhs and the kings and the autocrats, the imams and the
emirs when the "enemy is at the gates". There is some truth to that. But not
enough truth.

Once more the United Nations Development Programme has popped up with yet one more, its
fifth, report that catalogues – via Arab analysts and academics, mark you – the
retarded state of much of the Middle East. It talks of "the fragility of the
region's political, social, economic and environmental structures... its
vulnerability to outside intervention". But does this account for
desertification, for illiteracy – especially among women – and the Arab state
which, as the report admits, is often turned "into a threat to human security,
instead of its chief support"?

As Arab journalist Rami Khouri stated bleakly last week: "How we tackle the underlying causes of our mediocrity and bring about real change anchored in solid citizenship, productive economies and stable
statehood, remains the riddle that has defied three generations of Arabs." Real
GDP per capita in the region – one of the statistics which truly shocked Khouri
– grew by only 6.4 per cent between 1980 and 2004. That's just 0.5 per cent
annually, a rate which 198 of 217 countries analysed by the CIA World Factbook
bettered in 2008. Yet the Arab population – which stood at 150 million in 1980 –
will reach 400 million in 2015.

I notice much of this myself. When I first came to the Middle East in 1976, it was crowded enough. Cairo's steaming, fetid
streets were already jam-packed, night and day, with up to a million homeless
living in the great Ottoman cemeteries. Arab homes are spotlessly clean but
their streets are often repulsive, dirt and ordure spilling on to the pavements.
Even in beautiful Lebanon, where a kind of democracy does exist and whose people
are among the most educated and cultured in the Middle East, you find a similar
phenomenon. In the rough hill villages of the south, the same cleanliness exists
in every home. But why are the streets and the hills so dirty?
I suspect that a real problem exists in the mind of Arabs; they do not feel that they own
their countries. Constantly coaxed into effusions of enthusiasm for Arab or
national "unity", I think they do not feel that sense of belonging which
Westerners feel. Unable, for the most part, to elect real representatives – even
in Lebanon, outside the tribal or sectarian context – they feel "ruled over".
The street, the country as a physical entity, belongs to someone else. And of
course, the moment a movement comes along and – even worse – becomes popular,
emergency laws are introduced to make these movements illegal or "terrorist".
Thus it is always someone else's responsibility to look after the gardens and
the hills and the streets.

And those who work within the state system – who work directly for the state and its corrupt autarchies – also feel that their existence depends on the same corruption upon which the state itself thrives.
The people become part of the corruption. I shall always remember an Arab
landlord, many years ago, bemoaning an anti-corruption drive by his government.
"In the old days, I paid bribes and we got the phone mended and the water pipes
mended and the electricity restored," he complained. "But what can I do now, Mr,
Robert? I can't bribe anyone – so nothing gets done!"

Even the first UNDP report, back in 2002, was deeply depressing. It identified three cardinal
obstacles to human development in the Arab world: the widening "deficit" in
freedom, women's rights and knowledge. George W Bush – he of enduring freedom,
democracy, etc etc amid the slaughter of Iraq – drew attention to this.
Understandably miffed at being lectured to by the man who gave "terror" a new
name, even Hosni Mubarak of Egypt (he of the constantly more than 90 per cent
electoral success rate), told Tony Blair in 2004 that modernisation had to stem
from "the traditions and culture of the region".

Will a solution to the Arab-Israeli war resolve all this? Some of it, perhaps. Without the constant
challenge of crisis, it would be much more difficult to constantly renew
emergency laws, to avoid constitutionality, to distract populations who might
otherwise demand overwhelming political change. Yet I sometimes fear that the
problems have sunk too deep, that like a persistently leaking sewer, the ground
beneath Arab feet has become too saturated to build on.
I was delighted some months ago, while speaking at Cairo University – yes, the same academy which
Barack Obama used to play softball with the Muslim world – to find how bright
its students were, how many female students crowded the classes and how,
compared to previous visits, well-educated they were. Yet far too many wanted to
move to the West. The Koran may be an invaluable document – but so is a Green
Card. And who can blame them when Cairo is awash with PhD engineering graduates
who have to drive taxis?

And on balance, yes, a serious peace between Palestinians and Israelis would help redress the appalling imbalances that
plague Arab society. If you can no longer bellyache about the outrageous
injustice that this war represents, then perhaps there are other injustices to
be addressed. One of them is domestic violence, which – despite the evident love
of family which all Arabs demonstrate – is far more prevalent in the Arab world
than Westerners might realise (or Arabs want to admit).
But I also think that, militarily, we have got to abandon the Middle East. By all means, send the
Arabs our teachers, our economists, our agronomists. But bring our soldiers
home. They do not defend us. They spread the same chaos that breeds the
injustice upon which the al-Qa'idas of this world feed. No, the Arabs – or,
outside the Arab world, the Iranians or the Afghans – will not produce the
eco-loving, gender-equal, happy-clappy democracies that we would like to see.
But freed from "our" tutelage, they might develop their societies to the
advantage of the people who live in them. Maybe the Arabs would even come to
believe that they owned their own countries.
http://www.independent.co.uk/opinion/commentators/fisk/robert-fisk-why-does-life-in-the-middle-east-remain-rooted-in-the-middle-ages-1763252.html

Lebanon's perfect fragility

Beirut's road network is a web of side-streets, dark underpasses, chaotic junctions and gridlocked one way routes. This organized chaos in many ways reflects the complex nature of Lebanese society. I have recently returned from Lebanon and I can't recall a country of such contrasts. Arriving at night time you miss this daytime chaos. The only indications that you are in Beirut are the lone soldier manning a checkpoint and the large poster of Rafiq Hariri. First impressions count and the no-nonsense and deceptively friendly border official, looking back, set the tone.

West Beirut's Hamra district is now an moderately affluent, often quiet, neighbourhood. Hamra Street is a busy day time shopping zone; the streets leading off have many cafes, boutiques and local stores. Hamra is a perfect mix of residential and busy Beiruti everyday life. But in Lebanon's civil war, West Beirut and Hamra in particular was the centre of fierce fighting. A Sunni district, Hamra was home to numerous militias including the socialist al-Murabitoun, Syrian backed groups and, most significantly, the PLO. Only last year, Hamra was deserted again as Hezbollah and Future Movement militia clashed over several violent days.

To the north of Hamra, lies the Corniche – a long seafront promenade. With perfect viewing for watching the Mediterranean sunset, this walk is a relaxing spot for all Beirutis to unwind. Overlooking the Corniche is the famous American University of Beirut (AUB). The lessons are taught in English, so the cafes of Bliss Street besides the campus, are filled with Lebanese chatting in American accents (not Americans). The campus is a peaceful distance from the Beirut noise, but during the Civil war it was not able to keep out of the violence. Guerillas used the grounds to display their rockets to the international press in 1976 and the former president Malcolm Kerr was assassinated in 1984. The University insisted that it remain open during the war.

From the roof terrace of the Mayflower hotel, you can see uncountable buildings. It is impossible to distinguish between the old and new blocks. The buildings have seen it all. Many have witnessed the terrible days when Hamra was a battlefield. But the new ones are testimony to the Lebanese's desire to rebuild and construct a positive future. The fact that you can't differentiate between the two sums up this internal conflict between forgetting the past and taking steps towards a better future. The Mayflower Hotel is a wonderfully anachronistic place, filled with pictures of 19th century Britain, with previous guests including Graham Green, Kim Philby and countless journos during the war.

North of the National Museum – which displays artifacts of the Phoenecian, Roman and Hellenistic periods – lies Beirut's infamous Green Line. Now simply a busy street, it marked the frontline in the civil war, dividing the predominantly Muslim West and Christian East. The only real leftover from this partition is a thick plain wall with large bullet holes. Continuing north you arrive at Place de Martyrs where numerous political rallies have taken place, which is besides the Mohammed al-Amin mosque, built by Rafiq Hariri before he was killed.

Beirut's Downtown district was decimated during the war and has now been redeveloped into an impeccable area of the city. There are several streets leading off the Place d'Etoile with restaurants and shops. It feels more like Europe and there is definitely no riff-raff. It may lack authenticity but it is probably the most modern part of the city. All entrances to the area are manned by checkpoints so it is also the city's safest spot.

A short distance north near the seafront is the St George Yacht Club. Two buildings stand without their fronts, having been blown off by the truck bomb that killed former prime minister Rafiq Hariri. When you visit this location, you can understand the motives of his killers. Firstly it is in a central location in Beirut, almost between East and West. Secondly it is overlooked by large hotels and apartment blocks built by Gulf money under Hariri's guidance. The assassination strikes at the heart of this wealth and power.

Central Lebanon remained largely undamaged in the July 2006 war. The Shia southern suburbs, home to Hezbollah, were subjected to heavy Israeli bombing. The Shia may often be the poorest section of Lebanese society, but they arguably hold the power. This power lies in two critical areas: demographics and weapons. The absence of any census in Lebanon or serious survey of the respective sectarian populations means that an estimation of total Shia is very difficult. The traditional figure of 35% is passed around, but our Shia taxi driver had four brothers and five sisters alone. The Shias also have Hezbollah of course. Being able to resist Israel's onslaught in 2006 proved that it is no mere mediocre militia and it managed to take control of central Beirut last year with relative ease.