Lignes quotidiennes

Lignes quotidiennes
Dernier ouvrage paru : Chroniques du ramadan. Voyage intimiste au coeur du jeûne (Tallandier, 2026).
Affichage des articles dont le libellé est Arab Spring. Afficher tous les articles
Affichage des articles dont le libellé est Arab Spring. Afficher tous les articles

samedi 26 janvier 2013

Internet and the Arab Spring

_

For those interested in the Arab world and the events that shook it during the last two years, it is important to read the excellent book mentioned in this column (*). Its author, Yves Gonzalez-Quijano, academic, researcher (he teaches contemporary Arabic literature at the University Lumière-Lyon II, in France) and translator, has examined the relationship more complex than we think, between The Arab Spring and the world of digital technologies. As we know, the idea that the internet was at the origin of the revolutions, especially in Tunisia and Egypt, is almost the indisputable truth. And, as the author notes, “being recited in all possible forms, the beautiful story of the Arab revolution of social networks finally take root in the minds to the point of forgetting all prudence”. It is obvious that the Arab uprisings would not evolve in the same way without the influence of the Internet, the blogs, Facebook, Twitter, Youtube and the mobile phones. But the whole point of this stimulating book is to take the distance with common ideas and examine the actual impact of digital technologies on the Arab world and its identity and evolution whether political, religious or society.

The digital roots of the Arab Spring

Yves Gonzalez-Quijano first noted that politics and the opposition to the authoritarian regimes appeared on the internet long before the Arab Spring. In fact, his book is, among other things, an implicit tribute to the pioneers of the Arab cyber-activism. Bloggers, journalists, activists, human rights, dissidents, they all defied censorship and authoritarianism in the image of the deceased Zouhair Yahyaoui who, under the pseudonym “Ettounsi” (The Tunisian) was one of the first despiser of Ben Ali's regime in the early 2000s. This period was important and transitional since it has seen the “e-emergence” of internet bloggers, young Islamists and traditional political activists.  

Concerning cyber-activism, the 2000s were marked by repression, but also a vain agitation and anonymity. The repression was conducted by the authorities whom censored and persecuted activists. And even if these ones had trouble passing from the web-activism to concrete action on the ground, it remains that boiling was real. As examples, the author cites the campaign Yezzi Fock (2005) and the emergence of the collective Nawaat in Tunisia. He cites also the Kefaya (Enough) and April 6th 2008 movements in Egypt as well as the emergence of influential bloggers in Syria, Bahrain and Saudi Arabia. As for anonymity, it was the fact that the West had little interest in these movements. Worse, it has long tended to see in the Arab web-activism a source of threats. In fact, Yves Gonzalez-Quijano recalls that “before the Arab Spring, the web was perceived as a disturbing territory of international terrorism”. At this prevention was added “the belief that the Arab Internet had a very long way to go before it can contribute to change”. The author points also the paradox residing in the fear of an extremist Islam that can tame the electronic flows to trigger the 'war of civilizations'." That, while this (exaggerated) fear often was accompanied by “a willingly contemptuous judgment on the ability of the Arab societies to take advantage” of the web technology.

The controversial reverse of a beautiful story

A chapter of the book examines how and why the Internet and social networks have contributed to the success of the Arab uprisings, especially in Tunisia and Egypt. This decisive contribution certainly reinforces the camp of the “cyber-optimists”, meaning those who basically think that the Internet can do everything including revolutions. The author recalls in this respect the triple liberating impact of new technologies: “speaking and mobilization”, “coordination and organization”, and finally, “documentation and promotion”. In the case of the Arab Spring, this can be summarized by the following triptych: “Facebook to plan events, Twitter to coordinate and YouTube to tell the world”. Incidentally, Yves Gonzalez-Quijano examines some unusual facts of this story: why dictatorial regimes have accepted - even encouraged -, the development of technologies and digital resources that may ultimately destabilize them? “Open or close”, that is there, the author recalls, the famous “dictator's dilemma” set in 1993 by researcher Christofer Kedzie. Another issues are addressed in the book, as why these regimes haven’t “cut-off” Internet in the early days of the protests (knowing that this is what is doing today the Assad’s regime in Syria)?

But one of the major interests of the book is the chapter that follows. It is devoted to “the dark side of the force”, that is to say the disturbing aspects of the beautiful story of the web and the Arab Spring. For Yves Gonzalez-Quijano analyzing the effects of the cyber-policy pursued by the United States and its allies to influence the Arab world is not necessarily giving credit to any conspiracy theory. Yes, he says, many Arab cyber-activists have received - and still have - the support of the West and the risk for them is to loose all credibility. The author notes that “the euphoria of the fall of two old presidents (Ben Ali and Mubarak) allowed to pass on some controversial aspects” of the Arab spring, starting with the aids granted by the US diplomacy, other Western governments “to say nothing of the work of NGOs and other major computer companies”.

Generous funding, training, linking with other cyber-activists close to the West (including the organization Otpor, which had contributed to the fall of Milosevic), ambiguous role of large web companies like Google or Twitter: these are all disturbing elements that question the credibility of many Arab cyber-activists. Protesters “ready to revolt with immense courage against injustice” as the Egyptian blogger Wael Ghonim, but, and this explains perhaps the interest of the United States for them, not necessarily ready to challenge the economic relations between their country and the West. And this is not to say that many of these Arab web-activists have not always been very careful about some of their external support. In the book, we can carefully read the passages devoted to Jared Cohen who made in the mid-2000s, at the age of 23, a trip to the Middle East before drawing a book highlighting “the revolutionary effects of digital development” in the region. After that, Cohen worked for Condoleeza Rice and Hillary Clinton, before leaving the State Department to join Google. His personal involvement in the events of 2009 in Iran then after in the Arab revolts highlights a part of the US influence in these events. Influence, recalls Yves Gonzalez-Quijano, against which Arab bloggers had yet warned. Among them, the Tunisian Sami Ben Gharbia, one of the founders of the Nawaat collective. Sami Ben Gharbia was the author in September 2010 of a manifesto that had a huge impact on the Arab-web. For him, the U.S. support for Arab cyber-activism is both carrying false promises of freedom while being responsible for a negative change in this type of challenge and commitment through “excessive politicization” and “loss of credibility”.

In general, it is clear from reading the book that the Arab world is an excellent study- case for what is to judge whether the contribution of the Internet in political transformations are relevant or not. The problem, is that the optimistic vision tends to always take precedence while there is a school of thought, the “cyber-pessimism”, which warns against exaggerating the benefits of the Internet. Researchers such as Evgeny Morozov and Gladwell Malcomm are categorical: “to overthrow a corrupted regime, free access to information is not necessary or even important”. Clearly, “the revolution will not be tweeted” nor the “clicktivism" (clicking on the computer rather than go to action) will change things.

New identities and resurgence of the Arab Nahda

Yves Gonzalez-Quijano’book highlights other impacts of the Internet on the Arab world. Thus, the web is directly related to the emergence of an Islam “à la carte” and the individualization of religious practices. It is also a field of expansion for the Arabic language. As the author notes, it “has climbed to the French, in seventh place in terms of users on the Web, with the highest growth rates between 2000 and 2011 (2500%) ahead of all other languages”. Arabic has achieved “the highest increase among all the languages ​​on Twitter”, pointing eighth on the micro-blogging platform which has become the preferred social network of Arab Gulf and Middle East. Also, this language is evolving, being simplified in terms of grammar and even experiencing a strange mutation with the emergence of the “Arabizi” which is writing Arabic into Latin characters and figures.
 

Political protest, social activism, reinventing ancient forms of writing, the resurgence of poetry and literature, the rising of identity issues, social relations, questioning the regime’s authority: the Arab world is changing all thanks to digital technology. This creates, says the author, a “new Arab identity” that “somehow extend a process started from the second half of the nineteenth century” namely the Nahda (Renaissance revival or recovery). Blogs, forums, Facebook groups, tweets, all this would, according to Yves Gonzalez-Quijano, lead to the ihya’ and the iqtibâs, that is to say, the revival and borrowing, two major trends of the Nahda during the nineteenth century. The hypothesis is attractive, but it deserves more research. Is the Internet a factor of sustainable progress and emancipation in the Arab world? Is it contributing to the modernization of thought, including the religious one? These questions must be asked because the Web, in this region of the world, as elsewhere, is also synonymous with acculturation or alienation not to mention the fact that it continues to promote the development and dissemination of the most reactionary thoughts.

(*) Yves Gonzalez-Quijano, Arabités numériques. Le Printemps du web arabe, Sindbad - Actes Sud, Paris, 187 pages, 18 euros. You can also consult the reseach-book of the author (Culture et politiques arabes) at the following address: http://cpa.hypotheses.org/

vendredi 28 décembre 2012

Privatising the Arab spring:

_


Tunisia and Egypt face economic challenges besides the difficulty of achieving political stability. The collapse of the previous systems of sinecure will release individual energies and initiatives, but these will go nowhere unless the new administrations find the financial resources to make up for lost time and achieve more egalitarian development. According to the first estimates from the Tunisian Central Bank and the Egyptian economics ministry, the countries will need between $20bn and $30bn over the next five years to improve their standards of living and open up regions through investment in transport, energy and technological infrastructure.

Conscious of how high the stakes are, prominent Arab and European figures (1) have supported the slogan “Invest in democracy, invest in Tunisia”, and have launched an appeal, the 200 Manifesto, calling on the West to give Tunisia financial aid. The US and EU have made plain that their coffers are empty and that, during a public debt crisis, they will not be extravagant. Although the world’s richest nations promised Tunisia and Egypt $20bn over two years at the G8 meeting in Deauville in May, this consists of loans scheduled before the revolutions. The Arab countries are hardly rushing to help their neighbours towards democracy. Despite its reserves of $150bn, Algeria has only allocated a few tens of millions of dollars to Tunisia. The EU’s plans for a Mediterranean Bank, planned since 1995, finally ended this May.

So, with the IMF and the World Bank, the principal lenders will be the European Investment Bank (EIB) — which is offering loans of $6bn between now and 2013 — and the European Bank for Reconstruction and Development (EBRD). Unlike eastern Europe after the fall of the Berlin Wall, the countries of the southern Mediterranean will not have their own bank of reconstruction and development.

In Tunis and Cairo, where there were hopes of a Marshall plan like the one that the US financed in Europe after the second world war, this has come as a great disappointment — all the more so since economists estimated that such a plan would cost the equivalent of funding the war in Iraq for two months, or 3% of the cost of German reunification in 1991 (2).

Privatisation by any other name
Unable to count on aid to meet their economic and social needs, Egypt and Tunisia have been encouraged by the IMF and World Bank to go further with market liberalisation, including seeking development money from multinationals. International lenders and western multinationals that already have a foothold in the southern Mediterranean, and want greater freedom of movement, view the option of public-private partnerships (PPPs) as a miracle solution.

Under PPPs, for a fixed period a company finances, constructs and then derives profit from a public service such as water, power or health on behalf of the state or its proxies. Even if the arrangement is temporary, it is a privatisation. International financial institutions are asking new democracies for the same as they used to demand from the previous dictators.

Since the early 1990s the IMF pressed President Hosni Mubarak of Egypt and President Zine el-Abidine Ben Ali of Tunisia for economic reforms, including the complete convertibility of their currencies, an “improvement of the business environment” — more facilities for foreign lenders — an accelerated withdrawal of the state from the economic sphere and a liberalisation of public services. Without casting doubt on their commitment to the free-market economy, these dictators were careful not to go too far along the road to market liberalisation for fear of accentuating social inequality. Will future democratically elected governments yield to calls for still greater economic liberalisation? And are PPPs really the answer?

To the business community and international institutions, PPPs seem a natural instrument for financing infrastructure development in the southern Mediterranean. Yet their implications are poorly understood. Les Echos, the French financial paper, explained: “The ever more frequent recourse to public-private partnerships still has not proved its profitability,” and quoted François Lichère, a law professor and legal consultant on PPP contracts: “The financial risk is borne by the project companies, established for that purpose, which borrow 90% of the funds. The instrument is therefore designed to work under favourable banking conditions” (3).

This calls for two qualifications. The first concerns the state of the banking sector. A PPP requires low interest rates and healthy banks. Neither of these conditions applies to Tunisia or Egypt, where many institutions have dubious debts and lack the expertise to take part in complex financial arrangements (4). The second qualification relates to the public operator’s ability to ensure that its interests — and those of the taxpayer — are being served, and that the private-sector partners are carrying out their responsibilities effectively. This means that the state, local institution or other public body must have the necessary competence and expertise to back and evaluate the PPP. In France, in a sector such as water supply, municipalities are obliged to prove they are vigilant so as not to incur additional costs and so that the terms of the contract are not flouted by the private contractor (5).

PPPs require not a strong state but a competent one, capable of working out a solid legal framework and guaranteeing that the terms of the partnership are fulfilled. Will future administrations in Egypt and Tunisia be up to this task?

Neoliberal Brothers

If there is a middle way, an economic option that is neither headlong liberalisation nor a return to the planned economy of the past, it will not come from religious political parties. As the Egyptian economist Samir Amin showed with the Muslim Brothers, Islamism is happy to align itself with liberal, mercantilist theories and, contrary to popular belief, pays only passing attention to social issues: “The Muslim Brothers are in favour of a market-based economic system which is totally externally dependent. They belong to the compradore bourgeoisie (6). They have opposed big strikes by the working classes and the peasants’ struggles to retain ownership of their land [especially in the past decade]. So the Muslim Brothers aren’t moderates except in the sense in which they have always refused to formulate any economic or social programme (in fact, they don’t question reactionary neoliberal policies) and in which they also accept de facto submission to the demands of existing US control in the region (and world). That makes them useful allies for Washington (is there a better US ally than Saudi Arabia, the Brothers’ patron?), which has given them a certificate of democracy” (7).

There is much talk about the charity work of Islamist organisations; this overlooks the fact that they are defending a fixed order and refuse to contemplate or develop policies to reduce poverty and inequality. Political Islamism is inclined to favour neoliberal policies and oppose any redistributive policy that uses taxes, considered impious, except for zakat, the compulsory giving of a set proportion of income to charity, which is one of the five pillars of Islam. This explains why Islamists have never tried to reach an understanding with the global justice movement, which they consider a new manifestation of communism. It is reasonable to suppose that, as long as they do not threaten the basis of the democratic order, strong Islamist parties will not undertake major economic revolutions.
So Tunisia and Egypt face a search for the “third way” that the former eastern European bloc was unable to find after the fall of the Berlin Wall. Popular revolutions must not become the foundation for an all-powerful capitalism that undermines the social cohesion of Egyptian and Tunisian society. Ensuring this will have to depend on new economic policies that prioritise the social dimension and the reduction of inequality.
_