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Al-Ahram Weekly 15 - 21 June 2000 Issue No. 486 
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Published in Cairo by AL-AHRAM established in 1875 |
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Al-Ahram Weekly 15 - 21 June 2000 Issue No. 486
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| Published in Cairo by AL-AHRAM established in 1875 |
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Egypt Region International Economy Opinion Culture Features Travel Living Sports Profile People Time Out Chronicles Cartoons Letters The man at the top
By Mohamed El-Sayed Said *
In the course of CNN's intensive coverage of the "sudden" death of President Hafez Al-Assad, one of the channel's better-known anchors asked his guest, an expert on Syrian affairs, whether the Syrian people's manifestations of mourning were sincere.
This question epitomises the gap in understanding between the Western and Arab worlds. It would never have occurred to an Arab observer to doubt the depth and spontaneity of the grief that has overwhelmed Syrians of all backgrounds and ages. Indeed, even members of the Syrian opposition were equally afflicted, although they certainly suffered from the illegal and undemocratic practices that were quite commonplace under the late president's regime.
There are many facets to the bereavement that has beset the Syrian people. The passage of a powerful and charismatic leader is one. In Oriental societies in general, death stirs powerful existential emotions, the force of which transcends differences of opinion and political rivalries. More importantly, in the context of the past 30 years -- one of Arab history's most turbulent and dramatic epochs -- the life of an individual leader comprises a portion of the history of an entire society and people, who, as they cast their minds back over this period have much cause for anguish.
A third element of the bereavement that is no less authentic and detached from political and intellectual disagreement is the sense of shared loss aroused by the end of three decades during which two entire generations knew no other ruler but the late president. Indeed, it comes as no surprise that the younger generations, whose consciousness was entirely formed under the omnipresence of President Assad, were the most profoundly affected by this event.
The tendency to identify with the leader or president is latent in the psychology of many societies, regardless of whether this tendency emanates from popular culture or is fed by the overwhelming power of the media, and particularly the modern totalitarian media. This aspect of the sense of bereavement in Syria, however, appears so dominant as to indicate a certain specificity. We can describe this specificity as a sort of coma in which society, voluntarily or by force, surrendered its will so completely that the death of the leader spelled the death of society, or the loss of its ability to determine its fate. It is this curious national apathy that we should examine to find out why a society would relinquish its political future to a select elite apparently intent upon carrying out the late president's wish to have his son succeed him in the well-known manner of dynastic succession.
The entire world has focused on the issue of succession from this perspective. Certainly, Western observers' eagerness to know precisely how Syria would effect this succession was characterised by an equal blend of derision and apprehension. Implicit in their attitude is the reproach that one of the most important Arab countries has taken at least a nominally republican system and transformed it into a monarchy. In fact, the Arabs have no adequate defense for this breach of the modern concept of the republic. Moreover, every attempt to justify it will only further expose the fact that Arab societies lack any real understanding of the republic as the cornerstone of modern political development.
We cannot deny a certain sense of shame when faced with this reality. The Arabs, and the Syrians in particular, must share the world's bewilderment, especially since the logic of dynastic succession does not confine itself to a single instance. This incomprehension has different motivations, however. From the larger standpoint, there are not many models for dynastic succession in republican systems. The closest example that springs to mind is Kim Il Sung's transfer of power to his son in North Korea. Still, it is difficult to equate this case with the situation in Syria. Syria was never as cut off as North Korea, nor have the Syrians given themselves in so absolutely to the personality cult that characterised the North Korean regime after World War II.
Such a comparison could prove useful, if only because it allows us to examine the relationship between the young successor and the old guard. In North Korea, young Kim's power was restricted by a formula for collective leadership that would ensure the perpetuity of the old guard and its ability to impose its authority, traditions and ideas. Here too, however, we must note important differences. Bashar Al-Assad, unlike his counterpart in North Korea, comes from outside the inner circle of ruling institutions in Syria, and thus lacks the expertise and extensive experience in the politics of his country that Kim had. Second, in North Korea, the party, not the security apparatus and the army, is the ruling power, whereas the reverse is true in Syria. Third, while the world knows little about the maze of power at the top in North Korea and in Syria, there are indications that the old guard in Syria is far more divided than was the case in North Korea at the time of Kim Il Sung's death.
To understand what will happen in Syria, we may have to draw on the experiences of other Arab countries. Whatever the intricacies of the political conflict in Syria, it is possible to identify two camps. The first seeks modernisation, an end to Syria's isolation and liberalisation of domestic and foreign policies. The second is closely linked to the nation's powerful security forces and bureaucracy; its watchword is perpetuity, specifically the perpetuity of the state apparatus erected by President Assad and its hegemony over society and national policy .
What is interesting, if this analysis is correct, is that the power struggle is taking place within the old guard. This in turn means that its more liberal wing will be destined to confer legitimacy upon the new president and then eventually vanish from the scene, as though its mission were simply to transfer a certain legacy. It appears that this camp has opted for Bashar Al-Assad, not because of any rare talents he might possess, but because of his association with his father's legacy.
The elimination of some of the hard-line camp's most important symbols, however, will not make it any easier for the liberals to pull off Bashar's succession. In addition to the embarrassing difficulties inherent in trying to justify the transfer, the old guard remains powerful in all branches of the state apparatus. The political agenda around which the pro-Bashar forces may coalesce could implicitly -- or inevitably -- jeopardise all those who accompanied the late president on his elaborate journey to the summit of power, and who share the responsibility for many of the problems that have characterised his regime. The hard-liners will not give in easily, and it is difficult to imagine that young Bashar can withstand the storm alone, unarmed and without the unlimited and unrestricted support of a power bloc prepared to see the power struggle through.
Further compromising the liberals' position is that Bashar's succession, which rests on his father's legacy, entails an element of continuity, however radical the modernisation and liberalisation programme they may wish to implement. Continuity can take two forms, however. The first would be a kind of tutelage in which the liberal camp takes a back seat, permitting for the formation of a regime that concentrates all power in the hands of the president and the sort of hero worship that characterised the rule of Hafez Al-Assad. The second would entail a form of collective leadership in which the role of the liberal wing of the liberal camp would extend beyond a supporting role to the exercise of actual power for a relatively long period.
In both cases, one can envision additional problems. For example, if the old guard hard-liners gather their courage, now that Hafez Al-Assad's expertise and determination no longer pose an obstacle, they can intervene directly to forestall Bashar's succession; if he does accede to power, they can always stage a coup in the customary manner.
Syria's political future will ultimately be determined inside Syria. However, this does not mean that regional and international forces will not play a part, and it appears almost inevitable that they will push for the succession of Bashar Al-Assad. Regional powers such as Egypt and the Gulf countries want a Syria that is more open and more flexible. It is in their interest that the future regime be less rigid with regard to the Arab-Israeli peace process. For similar reasons, the US will find itself motivated to support Bashar, and the same applies to Israel, if it really seeks a comprehensive and lasting settlement in the region.
The question, however, is whether Israel does want such a settlement. Bashar, for the moment, will not be able to change the line his father held to so long. The only way Israel could encourage change is by making the concessions it has rejected until now. This is highly unlikely. More probably, therefore, Israel will give in to the temptation to destabilise Syria, thereby diverting its influence from peace process diplomacy and, simultaneously, undermining pressure to withdraw from the Golan to the pre-June 1967 lines.
In view of this prospect, Egypt and the Gulf countries must do their utmost to avoid destabilisation. These efforts will lead them to support Bashar if he does become president. In fact, it is likely that Egypt, along with Saudi Arabia, will initiate an intensive drive to support Syria -- regardless of who Assad's successor is.
*The writer is deputy director of Al-Ahram Centre for Political and Strategic Studies.
