An Imperfect Democracy is What Makes it a Perfect One

Having studied profoundly the American democracy, I find its genius was not in its original design (notwithstanding its brilliance), but rather in its ability to continuously reinvent and realign itself with its north star- the interests of its citizens.

A democracy, very much like a plane, is statically imperfect and weighs heavy. Its perfection comes only when it is in flight, weighing as much as feather, with all its elements in harmonious balance, and transporting it to a destination it will never reach.

An Interesting Quote ...

“Under dictatorial rule, people need not think- need not choose- need not make up their minds or give their consent. All they need to do is to follow. This had been a bitter lesson learnt from Philippine political experience of not so long ago. By contrast, a democracy cannot survive without civic virtue… The political challenge for people around the world today is not just to replace authoritarian regimes by democratic ones. Beyond this, it is to make democracy work for ordinary people ..."

- Former Phillipines President Ramos

Lessons from Soviet Hungary for Arab Nations with Hardline Regimes

Democratizing a nation while facing hardline regimes has never been easy. As the Syrian, Yemeni, and Libyan regimes seem entrenched and not willing to let go of power to the people, perhaps they can benefit from recent experiences from Eastern Europe, of which Hungary stands out as a good example.

As the Soviet Empire began disintegrating in the late 1980’s, stifled Hungarians, who had been ruled by the Communists for far too many decades had grown tired of the single-party system. While democratic opposition groups were splintered, by 1989 most agreed that the priority was seeing their political system opened. They began pressuring the communist regime and succeeded in coalescing thousands of demonstrators in the streets to pressure the incumbent communist regime. The communist government tried to control and channel the emerging dialogue, but failed as the democratic parties refused to acquiesce to a multitude of political offers, bribes, and divide and rule tactics. Ideologically disparate, the opposition parties decided to maintain a united democratic front.

Over the next several months, the communist regime itself began feeling the pressure from within with some party members taking a more reformist position. Somewhat counter-intuitively, the split ended up occurring within the ruling party. A posterior shuffle within the communist party eventually led to a more reformist party leadership, and this in turn paved the way for a roundtable discussion with the opposition.

In her insightful book, The Walls Came Tumbling Down, Gale Stokes writes, “By mid-1989, free elections were no longer an issue in Hungary, but almost everything else was. During the roundtable discussions the [ruling] party concentrated on economic problems, hoping to get the opposition to share responsibility for a deteriorating economic situation and for unpopular reforms that would be needed to correct it. The opposition insisted on presenting political demands, such as eliminating Workers Guards, which were an armed force in every factory, and getting party cells out of the workplace. After three months of difficult negotiations, in September 1989 the conferees agreed to overhaul the legal system, depoliticize the army, and cut the size and competence of the Workers Guards.”

One contentious issue did remain and it was whether Hungary would have a strong
President voted for by the people- which the Communists wanted- or whether it would have a weaker one voted for by the parliament. This issue could not be solved by the roundtable discussion, but rather saw a referendum called for, which out of four million votes, saw the latter group come on top by a mere 6,100 votes! The parliamentary elections that followed early in 1990, saw the people massively vote against the Communists giving them only 8.5% of the parliamentary seats. The new parliament proceeded to vote for a non-communist President.

Hungary’s brief case provides several lessons to the impending transformation occurring throughout the Middle East. First, the ruling regime as expected tries to maintain its powers by attempting to institutionalize the single party rule [communism for instance] and other trickery, such as the “Workers Guards”, who typically are not there to protect the workers as much as to spy on them. The opposition groups did not fall for it and insisted on political reform before any economic reform under the single party system. This was smart for two reasons. The first is it kept the pressure on the regime. Second, if the economic situation got any better the incumbent totalitarian regime would feel even less likely to leave power.

Secondly, as a reaction to firm political opposition, the ruling regime itself began to see different strands emerge within its own rank and file. Hardliners were left with an impossible dilemma. If they imposed their power, it aggravated the situation on the streets as is happening in Syria and Libya. If however they allowed to reformers to emerge within the party, then they knew there was no hope either. Their days became numbered one way or the other.

Thirdly, once the ruling regime realized that change was imminent, it preferred to negotiate with the democratic proponents than stamp out the protests. This saved Hungary from an even larger calamity. In Libya, it appears Gadhafi has issued an “over my dead body” edict. His end may be near as a result of it. In Syria, Assad still has the chance to remedy the situation if he introduces some reformers, but even then, in all likelihood his regime’s days are numbered.

And finally, if negotiations with democratizers are launched as they have been in Egypt, while they may be difficult and will take time, they will inevitably lead to the peaceful emergence of liberalization and democratization as they did in Hungary against a regime must more powerful than any of the Arab ones.

The people are on the right side of history. Patience and perseverance will pay off… inevitably.

Lebanon's Liberation Tour: Ali Himmadeh’s Khiyam

On Lebanon's Liberation anniversary, I thought it appropriate to share the following story, which I wrote back in the summer of 2000 ...

The wind was blowing – as if on a mission to vacuum clean the place of its history. The sun thought otherwise and shone brightly wanting to expose its notoriety for all to see. Windows of abandoned posts incessantly screeched open only to come to a thundering close interrupting a serenity begging to be heard. I was in Khiyam prison in the South of Lebanon.

Three weeks earlier a friend and reporter had been an eyewitness to infamous Khiyam prison’s liberation by Lebanese villagers and resistance: As the Israeli army began retreating from the different Lebanese areas expecting their Lebanese proxies to take over their positions, the Southern villagers, resistance, and returning refugees started marching on evacuated villages craving to return to their homes and land. In the case of the village of Khiyam, this march took a more poignant significance, as it indelibly implied entering and freeing the renowned and feared Khiyam prison. As the liberators reached the doors of the prison, the remaining guards threatened to shoot at the crowd. One of the liberators took the lead and asked the guards to leave in peace because they had no way of defending themselves against the masses. The guards hesitated. The crowd appealed to their senses. Soon, the guards began feeling the pressure. They eventually accepted to leave if they could be brought a car and assured a safety route. Their wish attained, they left the prison to the liberators, who marched in shouting and screaming. The prisoners locked in their cells did not know what was happening outside. They mistook events for Israelis coming to hurt or kill them before abandoning the prison. "Allahou Akbar" cries were heard all over the prison as the prisoners awaited their moment of deliverance. The liberators scrambled for anything they could find to break the outer locks left closed by the fleeing guards. Rocks, steel bars, anything they could lay their hands on. Soon they reached the cell doors. Tears flowed on both sides of the prison bars. Arms extended to assure the prisoners- some of whom fell to their knees overwhelmed. Emotions pushed on the liberators. Finally, the doors broke open… The prisoners were raised on the shoulders of the liberators ... That evening, no prison cries of torture or pain were heard by the town. Khiyam slept in peace.

Catching a cab in Beirut, I had one thing on my mind. I needed to go to the South to see the recently liberated Lebanese lands especially Qana and Khiyam. While I was not from the South, throughout the war years, affinity and admiration had grown for that part of my homeland. I needed to replace feelings with presence.

The road that the taxi took to Khiyam had given few if any signs of its notoriety. It could have been just about any other road leading to this or that Lebanese village. But it didn't of course. It lead straight to a prison that had epitomized two decades of Israeli injustice over Lebanon and in particular it’s South. As we arrived, a soft spoken young man wearing a shy smile and a resistance cap guided us to where we could park. We then proceeded to walk uphill for about half a kilometer where we were told was the entrance to the prison. There, a few men sat unobstructively on the side. Their bushy beards exposed a defiant manly demeanor. I asked to take a photo with them. Some of them respectfully declined, others covered their faces. All urged me to take pictures of the prison instead. It was humbling to see those that had accomplished this feat preferred to stay out of the limelight.

Walking into the prison gates, were guard rooms to the left. Interestingly, someone had made sure that the names of the guards that had been on duty were posted on a cardboard, lest they be forgotten. Sadly, they all seemed Lebanese names. The Israelis had made sure others did their dirty work for them. At the center of the prison was a courtyard with two high concrete posts connected at the top by a concrete beam with protruding steel hooks – to be used for torture or hanging. On this day, a cotton dummy dressed in an Israeli uniform was hanging, with barbed wire at the base making sure not even he could escape his fate. Due to the howling wind, the dummy was circling around with the clothes being gnawed at and punctured by the barbed wire. As my mind wondered how many real Lebanese had found themselves in the very same predicament, a man approached me.

Ali Himmadeh was an average height but thin man, probably in his mid-thirties. He carried a light beard and wore jeans and a striped shirt. He asked if I’d like to be shown around. “I do not expect anything in return,” he continued, “I was a prisoner here myself and I do this so that my people will not forget what we all went through.” As much as his story begged to be told, his honesty and easy demeanor beckoned me to accept. Ali had been incarcerated in 1992 because he had refused to aid and ebbed the Israelis. He would spend the next 7 years in Khiyam and not released until 1998 as a result of a prisoner exchange between the Lebanese resistance and Israel.

Ali guided us inside the first quarter and through a long thin corridor to the right of which were the cells. Each cell was about two meters wide, 10 meters long, and 3 meters high. Until 1995, the prison had only isolated cells, but the Red Cross had made the Israelis open up the rooms to these dimensions. Thus each of these rooms which housed some 6 or seven inmates had been 6 or seven cells prior to 1995. The rooms were dimly lit with a damp smell. At the end of the rooms, was a bathroom providing no minimum amount of privacy. Food was given through the bars and included meager portions: one egg with a piece of bread in the morning and potatoes for lunch. Ali explained how drinking water used to be bargained for. Anytime there was a shortage, the prisoners would go on hunger strikes. On this issue, Ali grinned. “We usually won these battles with more drinking water delivered.”

I asked Ali how it was the first few days in prison for him. He explained that the first 28 days were usually spent between solitary confinement and interrogation. They would put them in a room and during the day incessantly interrogate them. If answers were not obtained, they would use electric currents applied through the fingers or belts and other leather items to lash the prisoners. If they still received no information, they would then take them to a room with another prisoner. The other “prisoner” would be an undercover agent who would try to extract information by telling them some made-up story of his own resistance activities in the hope that they would fall in the trap by admitting some of their own experiences or information. “Now, if this method did not work,” Ali continued, “they would take us to the 'Amoud (the post) where the prisoner would have his head covered with a thick blue head cover, and then would be hung from the post with police-like hand shackles feet not allowed to touch the ground. Beatings, threats, and abuses would follow. Ali told us that once the jailers had been watching some boxing match on television while a prison inmate was blindfolded and hanging from the post. Once the match was over, the jailers came out and started practicing their own punches. "Five men I know of lost their lives on this post," Ali sighed looking down.

As we moved along the corridors adjoining the cells, several of the visitors that had begun following us began dropping out feeling either claustrophobic or unable to bear the stench. I tend to think perhaps this uncensored and grim reality was too much. Unfortunately, it would get worse as the tour progressed, for then, Ali guided us to the quarter of solitary confinement cells. In this quarter, cells were a meter wide, a meter long, and a meter and some high. Sleeping could only be done in sitting position. Mattresses were a convenience prisoners were not always given; nor were bathrooms, with buckets serving as convenient replacements. Prisoners could stay anywhere between one and twelve weeks in this type of confinement. Ali took us to the room where he had been placed the first four weeks. He then showed us the spot where he had etched his name using a rusted nail that he had found by accident.

By the end of the tour, I wanted to ask Ali a million other questions. I mean here was a man who had suffered a lot of injustice from his own people and from Israel, and yet displayed no visible signs of hatred. I wanted to know why and how he managed to overcome his ordeal. I wanted to know how he felt about people that had robbed him of a decade of his life...

Unfortunately, I also knew that it was important for him to share his story with many new arrivals. And so I bid Ali farewell …

As he turned his back and walked away, I could not help but think of the sacrifices that people in the South such as Ali had to face and for so long. I also could not help but admire the courage that he and the other men and women had mustered to tell their story in its ugliest truths, and within the very same walls that had and will likely continue to torture them for many years. These are brave souls. These are good souls. They are Lebanon's true heroes.

Source: Wissam S. Yafi records

The Roaring Sound of Silence in Lebanon

I found this article, which I had written for the DailyStar back in 2005 describing what arguably was the first revolution that occured in the Arab world ...


Last week, government loyalists thought that their demonstration - the one organized and led by Hizbullah - had forced the opposition into quiet submission. The subsequent reappointment of Omar Karami to head a new government - notwithstanding his humiliating departure a couple of weeks earlier - was meant to be the final nail in the opposition's coffin.

Few in Lebanon's already precarious leadership, or the one in Damascus for that matter, had any clue as to what such behavior would lead to: a massive gathering on Monday whose magnitude arguably has not been seen in the Arab world since the days of Egypt's President Gamal Abdel Nasser. But who was it that reacted? Why did they react? What is different about them, and more importantly what do they want?

Unlike Hizbullah's organized demonstration, the opposition rally on Monday was a grassroots effort, national, and not party based. It mobilized that segment of the Lebanese population that had hitherto rarely been driven into the streets - the silent majority.

The Lebanese silent majority is not sectarian in nature. It represents Lebanon's entire social and regional spectrum. Demographically, it includes people of both sexes and of all ages. Lebanon's young make up a large proportion of this majority, which also embraces all economic classes. It is fairly educated and developed and understands and is concerned with Lebanon's economic predicament and the debt threat hanging over the country's head. While the silent majority may not be wealthy, it is ambitious and realizes that for any economic recovery to be sustainable there needs to be political and economic stability, coupled with hard work and sacrifice. In the recent past, it has been willing to quietly pay its fair share to ensure such objectives.

For the most part, the silent majority is politically neutral - and until now many thought apathetic. It watched boisterous leaders parade by but hardly ever moved. It does not support any single party in Lebanon because Lebanon's parties are splintered and sectarian in nature. The silent majority prefers nationalists, and Lebanon's sectarian system hinders this.

Internationally, while it may believe in certain causes, the silent majority has etched into its memory the bitter experiences of the Lebanese war and the price Lebanon paid for shouldering the causes of others. No longer swayed by regional sloganeering, it has become practical enough to realize that the country can no longer afford to be a proxy in regional wars nor a confrontation point with Israel. And while Lebanon's silent majority may wish to avoid signing a separate peace treaty with Israel, it does not advocate war with it either.

Why did this silent majority move? Quite simply because it was tired. It was tired of seeing moderate and visionary leaders assassinated, while its fortunes were at the mercy of visionless officials appointed by outsiders who acted only on instructions. It was tired of having a clueless government that did not represent the majority's interests, particularly at such a crucial time in Lebanon's history when many dark clouds are gathering. And those in the majority were tired of having to tell their children that it was best for them to leave their nation in search of a better future.

While some may claim that Lebanon is unique, the national demonstration on Monday showed that the silent majority was no different than its counterparts elsewhere in the world - for example in Chile, where people brought down the all-powerful regime of Augusto Pinochet, having tired of his repressive police state and self-serving and obsolete security warnings. Lebanon is not different from Eastern Europe, where societies brought down oppressive and manipulative governments that had led them to economic ruin, while their neighbors in the West were well on their way to economic prosperity. And, it is not so different than Iraq, which in the January elections bravely showed the world how powerful the voice of freedom could be - even as voters faced the direst of personal risks.

Lebanon's silent majority is not unique, for it wants the same thing that all humans everywhere want: dignity, freedom and peace. It has a vision of a Lebanon that is economically ambitious, entrepreneurial and prosperous. It will follow those offering this optimistic vision; and it will dwarf those who wish to bind Lebanon to its dark past through strategies that undermine this vision. The silent majority in Lebanon has spoken with a voice that has silenced everyone else; and in this has taken Lebanon's destiny into its own hands. Those in power had better yield and quickly.

Bin Laden's Legacy: Che or Hitler

A recent US article wondered why the Islamic World has been so quiet concerning the killing of Bin Laden.

In the West, the case seems rather clear cut. While more knowledgeable analysts will admit that we in the United States in a way helped create the Bin Laden phenomenon by training and supporting his initial activities in Afghanistan during the Soviet era, most no doubt see him purely in light of the 911 calamity- an abominable figure that will go down in history as having committed a heinous crime. Hence his death caused celebrations and dancing in the streets of Washington DC, rarely seen by other occurrences much more significant in geopolitical terms- such as the fall of the Soviet Empire for instance.

While no one in the Islamic and Arab region is likely to deny the gravity of Bin Laden's 911 crime (although some conspiracy thinkers still manage to doubt its authenticity), they see it from a lens not as acute as the crime itself- as horrendously tragic as it were. Having lived their own history, their lens is a bit wider, encompassing other elements in the overall picture. What are some of these elements? First and foremost the autocratic regimes in the region and the injustices they have committed towards their people for decades. Second, Western real politik, which is seen as having turned a blind eye and ruthlessly used the region for its own geopolitical and geo-ecomomic interests. Others see Bin Laden's Islamic militant brand itself as a revolutionary response to incompetence and corruption not unlike some religious reformational movements that happened during other periods in history- albeit few would wish or even contemplate having a Taliban-style governing system. And finally, some see Bin Laden for better or worse as having been a catalyst who forced the region to daringly demand what it had never dared to and face-up to who it had never faced up to. They ask, if regional regimes and their Western backers have justified their means for their Near East regional ends killing millions of innocent in the process, wasn't Bin Laden essentially guilty of the same?

And so the quiet acquiescence of the Arab region in a way may be  introspectional. While feeling ashamed at all the pain and suffering that Bin laden had caused, there may be a lingering sympathy related to what he was trying to attain- a breakup of the vicious cycle that had incumbent autocratic regimes and the West colluding at the expense of the region's people themselves. That the break did eventually occur with the US's bold invasion and forceful democratization of Iraq and more recently the Arab world's uprisings may vindicate this argument albeit in itself eventually making Bin Laden a rather irrelevant figure. One Emirati Professor may have summed it up nicely by stating "Bin Laden died in Egypt before being killed in Pakistan."

From a regional perspective, Bin Laden as a historical figure may very well end up going down in history as having been more a Che Guevara-type of figure than a Serbia's Milosevic, Ruwanda's Kabuka, let alone a Stalin or a Hitler. They may not be willing to admit this just about yet. Hence the quiet.

A Splintering Terrorism

In September of 1993, I happened to be in Medellin, Colombia of all places. I recall quite well it was a very wet and rainy day in what was known at the time as the drug capital of the world. That morning one of the most wanted criminals in the world, Pablo Escobar, made a phone call to his son. It would cost him his life. At the time, he had been living in hiding for several years and some reports had said he had been sighted as far as Brazil. Others reported that he had completely changed his face. Turns out none of it was true. The phone call was intercepted by the CIA and Colombian intelligence and traced to a regular townhouse in a regular residential area in the middle of Medellin. He had been hiding out in the open all along. An elite Colombian force was dispatched, a firefight ensued, and the infamous Escobar was no more.

This story was almost replicated a couple of days ago. This time the global manhunt was on Bin Laden. Again, a phone call was intercepted by the CIA, but this time an American elite force was dispatched to get the work done and Bin Laden became a part of world's history books.

Some are beginning to question what will happen to Al Qaeda now that Bin Laden is gone. Perhaps looking at what happened to Medellin's infamous drug cartel can shed some light.

Upon Escobar's death, there was a power struggle with other regional cartels (Cali and the Colombian Coast cartels). This led to some infighting that eliminated Escobar's henchmen and closest partners. What eventually ensued were dozens and sometimes even hundreds of mini capos that currently for all intents and purposes do not appear on any major radar. The monopoly of the trade splintered into many pieces. This did not necessarily reduce from the amount of the drug trade per se. What it did reduce, however, is any national sovereignty threat. None of these new drug splinter groups were big enough as Escobar had been to threaten the whole nation. Their mantra of survival became keeping their heads down.

The world of global terrorism is likely to witness something very similar. On the one hand, post Bin Laden Al Qaeda still has henchmen such as Al Zawahiri and others. But none at this point appear to be capable of taking over the mantle nor may have the funding for it- that is unless one of Bin Laden's surviving sons decides to try his luck. As unlikely as this may seem, in that part of the world one never knows... Most likely, however, the organization not unlike the Colombian cartels in the 1990's will splinter into many smaller groups. As a matter of fact this had started occurring even before Bin Laden's death. The reason for this quite simply is geographic coverage. Unable to communicate effectively over such a huge Islamic expanse, the only way for the organization to work was for it to decentralize and it did so. This splintering process is likely to accelerate now that Bin Laden is gone. This may mean two things: First that Al Qaeda is not likely to disappear. Second and more ominously, terrorism is likely to continue.

Interestingly, in the case of drug imports, the United States seems to be resigned to an acceptable range of imports. Completely eradicating drugs has proven to be exorbitant and impractical. The question to ask now is whether or not there would be an "acceptable" equivalent in terms of terrorism?

This is a question only the future can answer, but a democratizing Arab world, which consolidates Arab states and has them responding to the needs of their citizens will certainly prove to be an antidote against a splintered Al Qaeda.