The horrible tragedy in Orlando is rightly focusing attention on the threat posed by lone wolf terrorists—that is, radicalized individuals or couples who carry out attacks like those in Boston, San Bernardino, and Orlando. Yet there is a greater threat to the national well-being from small groups of terrorists, we can call them wolf packs, that could bring much greater carnage. If America's Muslim community is scapegoated and ostracized, the wolf pack threat will grow.

The idea of lone wolf attacks goes back well before the emergence of the self-styled Islamic State two years ago. The New Mexico-born radical Anwar al Awlaki urged individual Muslim Americans to carry out mass casualty attacks years ago. His English-language web magazine “Inspire” was the vehicle for self-radicalized extremists to learn how to make bombs and conduct violent jihad. The Fort Hood shooter was his disciple. Awlaki's message is still virulent despite his death by drone in Yemen in 2011.

More recently, Hamza bin Laden, the son of al-Qaida's founder, has issued two messages from his hide-out in Pakistan urging lone wolf attacks in Europe, America and Israel. The first came out a year ago and included the endorsement of Ayman Zawahiri. The second came out last month.

The Orlando shooter paid little attention apparently to the differences between radical Islamic organizations. He reportedly praised the Shiite Hezbollah, Sunni al-Qaida, and the Islamic State. The message of jihad is so pervasive now that has become a part of the global dialogue.

As deadly as the Orlando shooting was, it is not hard to envision worse given the horrific attacks in Paris and Brussels this year. Organized conspiracies of a relatively small number of extremists prepared to die in their attacks can do far more damage than individuals or couples.

Organized conspiracies of a relatively small number of extremists prepared to die in their attacks can do far more damage than individuals or couples.

The role model of a wolf pack attack was the November 26, 2008 attack in Mumbai. A pack of ten well-armed and trained Pakistani terrorists attacked simultaneously and sequentially luxury hotels, fancy restaurants, a train station, and a Jewish hostel. Westerners and Israelis were singled out for attack but the majority of victims were innocent Indians. The operation even had a secure command post back in Pakistan where the terrorist handlers from Lashkar e-Tayyeba and Pakistani intelligence coordinated the plot by cell phones.

The Paris attacks imitated many of the Mumbai tactics and added suicide vests to the mix. The Islamic State took the Mumbai model to Europe. It no longer required a foreign base like Pakistan, the conspiracy operated in the depressed Islamic slums of Brussels and Paris where the security services had few sources. 

The closest to a wolf pack attack in the United States was an al-Qaida plot in 2009 to attack the New York City subway system. That was foiled because our intelligence services detected the conspiracy. 

Islamophobia is the path to more catastrophic violence.

By definition, conspiracies involving even small numbers of plotters are easier to detect than lone wolves. The first line of detection is the local Muslim community where the plot is hatched. When local communities become angry pockets separated from the rest of the nation, it is much harder to find and foil conspiracies. In Europe, unfortunately, there are many such disaffected Islamic communities. America doesn't have them, at least not yet.

That fastest and surest route to wolf pack conspiracies in America is to scapegoat all Muslims and create an angry jihadist sub-culture. That is why calls for prohibiting Muslim travel to America are so dangerous and counter-productive. It will inevitably create a backlash. Islamophobia is the path to more catastrophic violence.

        

Editors’ Note: Terrorist groups don’t emerge out of nowhere, and wars are perhaps the richest soil for seeding and growing violent groups of all stripes, writes Dan Byman. This post originally appeared in the Washington Post.

Study after study has found no common profile of a terrorist. It is hard to explain why, say, almost four times as many recruits leave Sweden to fight with the Islamic State as from neighboring Norway, though Sweden’s population is only twice Norway’s. Pundits and politicians alike speculate on why individuals might embrace terrorism, but such a question risks missing one obvious point: Having a terrorist group around in the first place is one of the most important factors in influencing an individual’s choice to join.

Terrorist groups don’t emerge out of nowhere, and wars are perhaps the richest soil for seeding and growing violent groups of all stripes. Without the wars in the Middle East there would be no Islamic State, and it is not the only one: al-Qaida, Hezbollah, and other extremist groups all emerged out of regional civil wars. The formation of such groups is a political phenomenon, and so, too, is the radicalization of foreign fighters from the West.

Terrorist groups are rarely the cause of civil wars. Iraq’s civil war began in 2003 after the U.S. invasion and occupation; Syria’s civil war began with peaceful protests against a brutal dictator in 2011; and Libya’s strife came after a terrorist-supporting dictator was toppled in the same year.

Rather, such wars beget and foster terrorism in several ways. Terror itself is often a tool in war, used to sow an atmosphere of fear and undermine governments. Assassinations of rival political leaders, bombs for police and military recruits and random violence against civilians—these are all methods learned from Insurgency 101.

Groups such as al-Qaida and now the Islamic State exploit new wars wherever they can. Terrorist groups linked to civil wars seek supporters in the United States, Europe, and other areas outside the theater for reasons both obvious and obscure—and these factors generate more terrorists. This pull is especially strong when identities cross borders—as does a religious identity like Islam—and when local ties are weak or the community as a whole is poorly integrated, as the Muslim community is in many European countries.

Foreigners might join these groups for altruistic reasons, to help the genuinely oppressed (the Syrian people facing Bashar al-Assad, or the Afghans facing the Soviets). Yet often the oppression is a myth, or at least greatly exaggerated: One powerful narrative of the Islamic State is that Sunni Muslims are facing a global Shiite conspiracy led by Iran and Hezbollah.

Still others join because they are true believers and want to live the dream. In different ways, the war takes them out of their humdrum or depressing present, giving them a new life: “I’m the most content I have ever been in my life,” tweeted one young American woman who had gone to live in the Islamic State, ending the tweet with a heart emoji. Many are merely thugs who spent time in jail or otherwise led delinquent lives: Joining the Islamic State or a similar group gives them a license to kill and torture.

Because there is no single profile, terrorist groups such as the Islamic State seek to appeal to many different ones. Propaganda stresses the good life in the caliphate, the glory of fighting for God, the oppression the community is facing, and glorified ultra-violence. Religion matters, but only as a badge of meaning and belonging rather than for its specific ideological content. By professing religious beliefs, a young Muslim male can go from marginalized and alienated in his home country to part of God’s army, defending his people with his own sex slaves to boot. Yet one study of the European foreign fighters found that most were theologically illiterate. Omar Mateen, the Orlando shooter, may not have understood the difference between the theologies espoused by the Islamic State, al-Qaida and Hezbollah.

As long as these wars rage, the problems they generate will not stay confined to the Middle East. Only a fraction of a fraction end up fighting, and even fewer engage in terrorism, but only a small number need to respond for the problem to be serious.

        

Editor’s Note: Turkey's terrorism troubles are bad and getting worse. At least 41 people died Tuesday when authorities say that ISIS attackers opened fire on crowds at Istanbul's airport and then detonated suicide vests, wreaking havoc. Dan Byman writes that Turkey's ISIS problems are bound up in its Syria policy and that the biggest danger of the attacks is that they push Turkey further toward authoritarianism and away from Europe and the United States. This piece was originally published by Slate.

Turkey’s terrorism troubles are bad and getting worse. At least 41 people died Tuesday in a terrorist attack on Istanbul’s airport. Authorities say that ISIS attackers opened fire on crowds at the airport and then detonated suicide vests, wreaking havoc. For Turks, such an attack is not a surprise: The country has seen as spate of attacks throughout the country in recent years.

ISIS has not formally taken credit for the attack as of Wednesday morning, but it has struck Turkey repeatedly and with growing frequency: ISIS has previously hit Istanbul twice in 2016, including a January suicide bomber attack on Sultanahmet Square that killed 12 in the heart of Turkey’s tourist district. In 2015, Turkey suffered its most deadly terrorist attack ever when more than 100 people were killed after bombs went off near Ankara’s railway station, targeting a rally opposing Turkey’s conflict with its own Kurdish population. In 2013, more than 50 people were killed when car bombs went off in Reyhanli near the Syrian border. Although ISIS is usually blamed for these attacks, Turkey’s Kurds, the Syrian regime, and Syria’s al-Qaida affiliate Jabhat al-Nusra have all been named as suspects. The sheer number of possibilities and the politicized finger-pointing reveals how daunting a challenge Turkey faces on the counterterrorism front.

The government of President Recep Tayyip Erdogan is trying to fight ISIS, but this is only one of its problems and, so far, not its No. 1 priority. Erdogan’s government also seeks to topple the Syrian regime of Bashar al-Assad, and manage its own and the regional Kurdish problem—tough enough tasks without having to also shore up the government’s declining legitimacy.

When the Arab Spring broke out in 2011, Turkey seemed a model for aspiring democracies in the Middle East. Here, after all, was a democratic government that embraced political Islam but did so in a seemingly moderate way, was a member of NATO, a booming economic power, and a force for stability in the region. The Middle East, however, has come to Turkey rather than the other way around. Although Turkey’s economy continues to do well, Turkey has far fewer admirers in the West and is often considered part of the problem, even drawing public criticism from President Obama. For many Turks, the Istanbul attack is part of this changing landscape. Asli Aydintasbas, a Turkish analyst, described a “world turned upside down” to the New York Times: Istanbul “was a happening town, cutting edge in arts and culture. It’s the kind of place that Condé Nast would write about. Now this is a Middle Eastern country where these things happen.”

Turkey’s ISIS problems are bound up in its Syria policy.

Turkey’s ISIS problems are bound up in its Syria policy. Erdogan had cultivated Assad and then was outraged when the Syrian dictator proved to be, well, a dictator. Instead of making reforms to placate protesters, as Erdogan had urged, Assad reached out to Iran and commenced a brutal crackdown that would lead to a civil war in which more than 400,000 Syrians have died so far—most at the hands of the regime, not ISIS. Although the United States prioritizes fighting ISIS, Turkey sees ousting Assad as more important. Ankara has armed and trained opposition fighters and hosted Syrian dissidents. Turkey has backed more radical groups like Ahrar al-Sham, which works with the Islamic State’s affiliate Jabhat al-Nusra.

The country’s policy toward ISIS should be seen in this context: Anyone opposing Assad seemed to be on the right side. Although ISIS relies heavily on foreign volunteers for manpower, Turkey dragged its feet and allowed volunteers to transit Turkey unimpeded so as to make their way to fight Assad. European governments reacted with growing concern and anger, fearing that these volunteers would come back and conduct terrorist attacks on the West. In the last year, Turkey has become far tougher on foreign fighters, but it is difficult to uproot the now-extensive radical infrastructure.

ISIS attacks on Turkey have grown in response to this crackdown. In addition to public attacks, ISIS has shot and beheaded activists linked to “Raqqa Is Being Silently Slaughtered,” a non-government organization providing information and video footage of the brutal life in ISIS-controlled areas.

Such acts and Western pressure have also led to more Turkish military involvement, and this too probably led to an escalation of ISIS attacks. Turkey used tanks and artillery to strike ISIS after the January bombing in Istanbul’s Sultanahmet Square and has shelled ISIS positions in response to ISIS cross-border shelling. Perhaps more importantly, Turkey allows the United States and other coalition countries to base aircraft out of the Incirlik and Diyabakir air bases in southern Turkey for strikes on ISIS.

Making things even more complex, Turkey’s own Kurdish problem put it at odds with Washington in the fight against ISIS. From Ankara’s point of view, there are good Kurds and bad Kurds. The good ones include Iraq’s main Kurdish organizations which have good relations and economic ties with Turkey.

On the other hand, the Erdogan government sees the Kurdish Workers Party (PKK) as an enemy. The group claims to represent the aspiration of Turkey’s own Kurds, which make up perhaps 20 percent of the population, and past regimes had fought civil wars with the group, leading to 40,000 deaths since the conflict began in 1984. In 1999, the PKK’s leader was captured and the conflict declined in ferocity. Peace seemed at hand as negotiations commenced secretly in 2009, and at the end of 2012 Erdogan publicly embraced the talks. The ceasefire broke down in 2015, however, when Turkey bombed the PKK’s bases in Iraq, and Kurdish violence and terrorism in Turkey returned: Many observers believe Erdogan renewed operations because his electoral fortunes were waning and he sought to stir up nationalist sentiment.

With this dynamic in mind, Syria’s small Kurdish group the Democratic Union Party (PYD) has come to play an important role for Turkish policy, ISIS, and Syria. Although the group has historically been minor, its ties to the PKK made Turkey see it as an enemy. This mattered little until central government authority in Syria’s Kurdish areas collapsed. The PYD and other Kurdish groups carved out their own autonomous areas, leading to Turkish fears that the PYD would inspire Turkey’s Kurds to seek independence and would provide the PKK a base for attacks.

Washington took a different view: As U.S. military training programs against ISIS proved ineffective, the PYD also emerged as a valuable military ally, perhaps the most effective foe of ISIS within Syria. Even as the United States works with Syria’s Kurds, Turkey has embargoed Kurdish areas in Syria (at a time when humanitarian conditions are desperate) and even threatened to intervene if the Syrian Kurds expand their territory near the Turkish border too much. And to make this more complex, the PYD itself doesn’t work well with other anti-Assad groups, which oppose Kurdish autonomy and are angered by the PYD’s willingness to ignore Assad, making it difficult to square with broader U.S. goals in Syria.

All this would be easier for Turkey if the Erdogan government had broad support at home and abroad, but it doesn’t. Recent years have seen massive anti-government protests with the Turkish government responding by stepping up repression. Erdogan changed jobs from prime minister to the more ceremonial role of president, but he remains the power behind—or even in front of —the throne. Turkey has used anti-terrorism as an excuse to crack down on legitimate political dissent at home, straining ties with Europe and the United States. The government is increasingly authoritarian, with crackdowns on press freedom being particularly acute. (And whatever you do, don’t compare Erdogan to Gollum.) The good news is that Turkey is trying to break out of its growing isolation; the bad news is that it is doing so by mending fences with another authoritarian strongman, Russian President Vladimir Putin.

[T]he biggest danger of the ISIS attacks is that they push Turkey further toward authoritarianism and away from Europe and the United States.

In addition to the horrific loss of lives, the biggest danger of the ISIS attacks is that they push Turkey further toward authoritarianism and away from Europe and the United States. Dictators throughout the Middle East use legitimate security and terrorism dangers to justify delaying reforms, repressing any form of opposition, and labeling all foes as terrorists. The Turkish model, unfortunately, is a Middle Eastern one now.

         

"At the end of the day, we need to remember that Daesh is more a product of the civil wars than it is a cause of them. And the way that we’re behaving is we’re treating it as the cause.  And the problem is that in places like Syria, in Iraq, potentially in Libya, we are mounting these military campaigns to destroy Daesh and we’re not doing anything about the underlying civil wars.  And the real danger there is—we have a brilliant military and they may very well succeed in destroying Daesh—but if we haven’t dealt with the underlying civil wars, we’ll have Son of Daesh a year later." – Ken Pollack

“Part of the problem is how we want the U.S. to be more engaged and more involved and what that requires in practice. We have to be honest about a different kind of American role in the Middle East. It means committing considerable economic and political resources to this region of the world that a lot of Americans are quite frankly sick of… There is this aspect of nation-building that is in part what we have to do in the Middle East, help these countries rebuild, but we can’t do that on the cheap. We can’t do that with this relatively hands off approach.” – Shadi Hamid

In this episode of “Intersections,” Kenneth Pollack, senior fellow in the Center for Middle East Policy and Shadi Hamid, senior fellow in the Project on U.S. Relations with the Islamic World and author of "Islamic Exceptionalism: How the Struggle over Islam is Reshaping the World," discuss the current state of upheaval in the Middle East, the Arab Spring, and the political durability of Islamist movements in the region. They also explain their ideas on how and why the United States should change its approach to the Middle East and areas of potential improvement for U.S. foreign policy in the region. 

Show Notes

Fight or flight: America’s choice in the Middle East

Security and public order

Islamists on Islamism today

Temptations of Power: Islamists & Illiberal Democracy in a New Middle East

Ending the Middle East’s civil wars

A Rage for Order: The Middle East in turmoil, from Tahrir Square to ISIS

Building a better Syrian opposition army: How and why

With thanks to audio engineer and producer Zack Kulzer, Mark Hoelscher, Carisa Nietsche, Sara Abdel-Rahim, Eric Abalahin, Fred Dews and Richard Fawal.

Subscribe to the Intersections on iTunes, and send feedback email to intersections@brookings.edu.

         

Although there has been some progress in forming a national unity government in Libya, “unity” is a rather inapplicable word for the country. In reality, friction between various political actors remains high. Ultimately, perhaps a form of disunity—confederation, rather than centralization—is the best model for Libya.

Libyan politics: A primer

During the summer of 2014, the Libyan leadership, after an initial hint of cooperation, split into two governments: 

• One, headquartered in Tobruk and based on a secular matrix, was recognized internationally. It received support from the House of Representatives and was abetted by General Khalifa Haftar and his so-called National Libyan Army. Externally, Egypt, the United Arab Emirates, and Russia have supported this government because of its anti-Islamist ideology. In May 2014, Haftar launched "Operation Dignity" against the Islamist militias, supported by the Zintan brigades (consisting of the Civic, al-Sawaiq, and al-Qaaqa brigades), and the militias coming from the ethnic minorities of Tebu and Fezzan.
• The other, headquartered in Tripoli, was Islamic in nature. It was supported by the new General National Congress (GNC) and was part of the Libya Dawn group of pro-Islamist militias (which included groups from Misrata, Amazigh, and Tuareg). Qatar, Sudan, and Turkey have supported this government for different reasons, including to earn a more prominent place on the global stage or to support the Muslim Brotherhood. 

But it gets more complicated, since it wasn’t just the Tobruk- and Tripoli-based governments that competed to fill the power vacuum post-Gadhafi. The constellation of militias and brigades has changed continuously. There are Salafist groups such as:

• Ansar al-Sharia Libya (or ASL, located between Benghazi and Derna); 
• Muhammad Jamal Network (between Benghazi and Derna);
• Al-Murabitun (in the southeast, around Ghat, Ubari, Tasawah, and Murzuq);
• Al-Qaida in the Islamic Maghreb (or AQIM, in the southwest and northeast of Libya); and
• Ansar al-Sharia Tunisia (or AST, located between Derna and Ajdabiya). 

Then in 2015, an Islamic State (or ISIS) cell—made up of about 3,000 Tunisians, Yemenis, Algerians, and Libyans, especially former supporters of the Gadhafi regime and members of Ansar al-Sharia—began to take hold in the city of Sirte, Gadhafi's hometown. Sirte is in an oil-rich desert area with tremendous strategic value, lying between the two regions of Tripolitania and Cyrenaica. And Misratan militias treated Sirte ruthlessly after Gadhafi’s fall, prompting many locals to welcome ISIS. So it was no accident that ISIS chose that spot, or that it stepped into the Libyan power vacuum more broadly: Libya is strategically important for eventually expanding across North Africa; it’s a launching point for criminal trafficking in the Mediterranean; and there is a potential to exploit huge energy resources, as ISIS has done to a degree in Iraq. 

Then in December 2015 in Morocco, the Government of National Unity (GNA) signed an agreement by which Fayez Serraj became prime minister. But General Haftar and the government in Tobruk didn’t support the move, and the security environment across the country is still abysmal. Despite the assurances from United Nations Support Mission in Libya (UNSMIL) Special Envoy Martin Kobler that Libya would achieve stability, Libya is still seriously fragmented. 

Today, the real fight is not even between Cyrenaica and Tripolitania, per se, because the two regions—along with Fezzan—are so divided internally. Serraj was barely allowed to arrive in Tripoli this March, for instance—only thanks to the intervention of the international community. The GNC (with Prime Minister Khalifa Gwell and President Nouri Abusahmain) immediately dubbed Serraj’s cabinet "illegal," but then a month later decided to disband in favor of Serraj’s GNA. The government in Tobruk, led by President of the House of Representatives Aguila Saleh Issa, has still not given his full endorsement.

Bright spots?

In spite of these political frictions, there have been small signs of progress. Foreign ministers from other countries and even the prime minister of Malta have arrived in Tripoli as a sign that the new political situation is formalizing. And while embassies remain closed, there is a sense that things are moving in a positive direction. Given this, in late April Serraj asked the international community to intervene in order to secure oil wells, theoretically protected by Jadran Ibrahim and his Petroleum Facilities Guard (PFG), a powerful allied militia in Tripoli. But while the international community has seemed ready—including the Italian government, which has taken a leadership role—accusations of local weakness and Western meddling complicate the Libyan political arena. 

ISIS, meanwhile, is suffering setbacks, having been attacked in Sirte from the south, west, and east by a collection of GNA forces, Misrata militia brigades, and the PFG. The GNA forces are currently in the center of Sirte, clashing with ISIS and gaining terrain every day. ISIS seems to be weaker than many thought (indicating that estimates of its numbers were wrong) and now may be fleeing south—to Fezzan—where its strategy can be more fluid and less based on territorial control. 

Re-considering the fragmentation problem

The persistent fragmentation in Libya is what is most worrying. Internal divisions are the product of decades of Gadhafi’s reckless governing—he kept his citizens from each other and from the rest of the world and deprived them of any solid governmental or administrative structure that could keep the country stable in the event of a "post-regime" moment. And looking even further back, it’s important to remember that Tripolitania and Cyrenaica were never aligned, even during the two decades of rebellion against Italy. The Italians used the old "divide et impera" (divide and conquer) strategy, digging real "furrows of blood"—in the words of British scholar Edward E. Evans-Pritchard in 1949—between Libyan tribes. 

And today? A serious agreement between the main political factions—the Government of National Unity and the House of Representatives—seems out of reach. Meanwhile, few of the fundamental institutions required for the development and governance of a modern country are in place. Libya has invested little in education, and both corruption and unemployment are off the charts. Despite immense energy resources, the economy is contracting. Oil production has declined from 500,000 barrels per day in 2013 to 300,000 in January 2016, and not because deposits have depleted. And tourism, it goes without saying, isn’t taking place. 

Fayez Serraj, Libyan prime minister-designate under the proposed unity government, attends a meeting with officials of municipal council of Tripoli in Tripoli, Libya. Photo credit: Reuters/Ismail Zitouny.

Instead, there have been thousands of deaths and a massive outflow of refugees. While UNSMIL’s efforts have been commendable, the international community should seriously consider how to do more in Libya. It’s better to devise and implement an intervention plan now than wait for a true emergency in Libya. The international community must think about and articulate a real strategy, not merely implement tactical operations. Given the dramatically deteriorated security situation today, it seems impossible to imagine a non-security related intervention, even in defense of the soldiers called to the simple mission of protecting the new coalition government. 

One approach to consider is helping Libyans build a confederal state, divided into three large regions: Tripolitania, Cyrenaica, and Fezzan (or perhaps more if the Libyan people deem it appropriate). Perhaps it is time that such provinces become more autonomous—following different paths as they choose, based on their unique ethnic, social, religious, and political origins. This is an extreme solution, of course. But it is clear that the international community, which had been so much a part of the Libyan revolution, cannot now permit the failure of Libya as a state.

The paradox of deconstructing to construct, in this case, can work. The long-advocated national-level solution of political unity does not, in fact, seem possible. Instead, a confederation of the three regions built on the original disposition of tribes and natural borders could probably assure a deeper stability. Regional governments could better protect local interests in security, economic reconstruction, and governance. The international community should thus start from the bottom, emphasizing local solutions, supporting local actors, and helping to empower Libyans to choose their leaders at a local level. This is not to rule out a central government someday, but would mean that such a government would be somewhat less influential. It’s an incredibly difficult and long plan, but probably the only one that can work. 

         

The terrible attack in Nice on July 14—Bastille Day—saddened us all. For a country that has done so much historically to promote democracy and human rights at home and abroad, France is paying a terrible and unfair price, even more than most countries. My colleagues Will McCants and Chris Meserole have carefully documented the toll that France, and certain other Francophone countries like Belgium, have suffered in recent years from global terrorism. It is heart wrenching.

From what we know so far, the attack was carried out by a deeply distraught, potentially deranged, and in any case extremely brutal local man from Nice of Tunisian descent and French nationality. Marital problems, the recent loss of his job, and a general sense of personal unhappiness seem to have contributed to the state of mind that led him to commit this heinous atrocity. Perhaps we will soon learn that ISIS, directly or indirectly, inspired the attack in one way or another as well. My colleague Dan Byman has already tapped into his deep expertise about terrorism to remind us that ISIS had in fact encouraged ramming attacks with vehicles before, even if the actual manifestation of such tactics in this case was mostly new. 

This attack will again raise the question: Why France? On this point, I do have a somewhat different take than some of my colleagues. The argument that France has partly brought these tragedies upon itself—perhaps because of its policies of secularism and in particular its limitations on when and where women can wear the veil in France—strikes me as unpersuasive. Its logical policy implications are also potentially disturbing, because if interpreted wrongly, it could lead to a debate on whether France should modify such policies so as to make itself less vulnerable to terrorism. That outcome, even if unintended, could dance very close to the line of encouraging appeasement of heinous acts of violence with policy changes that run counter to much of what French culture and society would otherwise favor. So I feel the need to push back.

Here are some of the arguments, as I see them, against blaming French culture or policy for this recent string of horrible attacks including the Charlie Hebdo massacre, the November 2015 mass shootings in Paris, and the Nice tragedy (as well as recent attacks in Belgium):

• Starting with the simplest point, we still do not know much about the perpetrator of the Nice killings. From what we do surmise so far, personal problems appear to be largely at the root of the violence—different from, but not entirely unlike, the case with the Orlando shooter, Omar Mateen.
• We need to be careful about drawing implications from a small number of major attacks. Since 2000, there have also been major attacks in the Western world by extremist jihadis or takfiris in New York, Washington, Spain, London, San Bernardino, Orlando, and Russia. None of these are Francophone. Even Belgium is itself a mixed country, linguistically and culturally.
• Partly for reasons of geography, as well as history, France does face a larger problem than some other European countries of individuals leaving its country to go to Syria or Iraq to fight for ISIS, and then returning. But it is hardly unique in the scale of this problem.
• Continental Europe has a specific additional problem that is not as widely shared in the United Kingdom or the United States: Its criminal networks largely overlap with its extremist and/or terrorist networks. This point may be irrelevant to the Nice attack, but more widely, extremists in France or Belgium can make use of illicit channels for moving people, money, and weapons that are less available to would-be jihadis in places like the U.K. (where the criminal networks have more of a Caribbean and sub-Saharan African character, meaning they overlap less with extremist networks).
• Of course, the greatest numbers of terrorist attacks by Muslim extremists occur in the broader Muslim world, with Muslims as the primary victims—from Iraq and Syria to Libya and Yemen and Somalia to South Asia. French domestic policies have no bearing on these, of course.

There is no doubt that good work by counterterrorism and intelligence forces is crucial to preventing future attacks. France has done well in this regard—though it surely can do better, and it is surely trying to get better. There is also no doubt that promoting social cohesion in a broad sense is a worthy goal. But I would hesitate, personally, to attribute any apparent trend line in major attacks in the West to a particular policy of a country like France—especially when the latter is in fact doing much to seek to build bridges, as a matter of national policy, with Muslims at home and abroad. 

There is much more to do in promoting social cohesion, to be sure, even here in America (though our own problems probably center more on race than on religion at the moment). But the Nice attacker almost assuredly didn’t attack because his estranged wife couldn’t wear a veil in the manner and/or places she wanted. At a moment like this in particular, I disagree with insinuations to the contrary.

         

Media coverage of the Islamic State frequently refers to the group’s violent and seemingly archaic justice system without considering the institutional structures that enable this violence, or the broader function that it serves in the group’s ambitious state-building project. Legal institutions make it easier for the group to capture and retain territory by legitimizing its claim to sovereignty, justifying the expropriation of the property and land of enemies, and building goodwill with civilians by ensuring accountability.

The Islamic State’s legal system purports to strictly apply the divinely revealed body of Islamic law known as Sharia, which it regards as the only legitimate basis for governance. Although its legal system is frequently characterized as medieval, it has instrumentally supplemented the original text of the Quran with the modern rules and regulations that are needed to govern a 21st century state and punish modern day offenses—for example, traffic violations. It has the same three features that are present in any modern legal system: police, courts, and prisons.

In a region that has long been plagued by corruption, the Islamic State has attempted to ingratiate itself with civilians by claiming that its legal system is comparatively more legitimate and effective than the available alternatives. However, two emerging vulnerabilities—the system’s susceptibility to corruption and propensity for extra-legal violence—are increasingly undermining the Islamic State’s ability to obtain the trust and cooperation of civilians. Counterinsurgency efforts should be designed to undermine the legitimacy of its institutions. Long-term solutions in the region must involve a fundamental reorganization of political and legal institutions in ways that promote legitimacy and rule of law.

Downloads

• The legal foundations of the Islamic State

         

Last night, retired lieutenant general Michael Flynn addressed the Republican convention as a headline speaker on the subject of national security. One of Donald Trump’s closest advisors—so much so that he was considered for vice president—Flynn repeated many of the themes found in his new book, The Field of Fight, How We Can Win the Global War Against Radical Islam and Its Allies, which he coauthored with Michael Ledeen. (The book is published by St. Martin’s, which also published mine.)

Written in Flynn’s voice, the book advances two related arguments: First, the U.S. government does not know enough about its enemies because it does not collect enough intelligence, and it refuses to take ideological motivations seriously. Second, our enemies are collaborating in an “international alliance of evil countries and movements that is working to destroy” the United States despite their ideological differences.

Readers will immediately notice a tension between the two ideas. “On the surface,” Flynn admits, “it seems incoherent.” He asks: 

“How can a Communist regime like North Korea embrace a radical Islamist regime like Iran? What about Russia’s Vladimir Putin? He is certainly no jihadi; indeed, Russia has a good deal to fear from radical Islamist groups.” 

Flynn spends much of the book resolving the contradiction and proving that America’s enemies—North Korea, China, Russia, Iran, Syria, Cuba, Bolivia, Venezuela, Nicaragua, al-Qaida, Hezbollah, and ISIS—are in fact working in concert.

No one who has read classified intelligence or studied international relations will balk at the idea that unlikely friendships are formed against a common enemy. As Flynn observes, the revolutionary Shiite government in Tehran cooperates with nationalist Russia and communist North Korea; it has also turned a blind eye (at the very least) to al-Qaida’s Sunni operatives in Iran and used them bargaining chips when negotiating with Osama bin Laden and the United States. 

Flynn argues that this is more than “an alliance of convenience.” Rather, the United States’ enemies share “a contempt for democracy and an agreement—by all the members of the enemy alliance—that dictatorship is a superior way to run a country, an empire, or a caliphate.” Their shared goals of maximizing dictatorship and minimizing U.S. interference override their substantial ideological differences. Consequently, the U.S. government must work to destroy the alliance by “removing the sickening chokehold of tyranny, dictatorships, and Radical Islamist regimes.” Its failure to do so over the past decades gravely imperils the United States, he contends.

The book thus offers two very different views of how to exercise American power abroad: spread democracies or stand with friendly strongmen...[P]erhaps it mirrors the confusion in the Republican establishment over the direction of conservative foreign policy.

Some of Flynn’s evidence for the alliance diverts into the conspiratorial—I’ve seen nothing credible to back up his assertion that the Iranians were behind the 1979 takeover of the Grand Mosque in Mecca by Sunni apocalypticists. And there’s an important difference between the territorially-bounded ambitions of Iran, Russia, and North Korea, on the one hand, and ISIS’s desire to conquer the world on the other; the former makes alliances of convenience easier than the latter. Still, Flynn would basically be a neocon if he stuck with his core argument: tyrannies of all stripes are arrayed against the United States so the United States should destroy them.

But some tyrannies are less worthy of destruction than others. In fact, Flynn argues there’s a category of despot that should be excluded from his principle, the “friendly tyrants” like President Abdel-Fatah el-Sissi in Egypt and former president Zine Ben Ali in Tunisia. Saddam Hussein should not have been toppled, Flynn argues, and even Russia could become an “ideal partner for fighting Radical Islam” if only it would come to its senses about the threat of “Radical Islam.” Taken alone, these arguments would make Flynn realist, not a neocon. 

The book thus offers two very different views of how to exercise American power abroad: spread democracies or stand with friendly strongmen. Neither is a sure path to security. Spreading democracy through the wrong means can bring to power regimes that are even more hostile and authoritarian; standing with strongmen risks the same. Absent some principle higher than just democracy or security for their own sakes, the reader is unable to decide between Flynn’s contradictory perspectives and judge when their benefits are worth the risks. 

It’s strange to find a book about strategy so at odds with itself. Perhaps the dissonance is due to the co-authors’ divergent views (Ledeen is a neocon and Flynn is comfortable dining with Putin.) Or perhaps it mirrors the confusion in the Republican establishment over the direction of conservative foreign policy. Whatever the case, the muddled argument offered in The Field of Fight demonstrates how hard it is to overcome ideological differences to ally against a common foe, regardless of whether that alliance is one of convenience or conviction. 

         

In his wide-ranging interview with The New York Times, Republican presidential nominee Donald J. Trump stressed the importance of fighting ISIS while declaring “we are going to take care of this country first before we worry about everybody else in the world.” For counterterrorism (and I would argue for security in general), such thinking is dangerously wrong-headed: Fighting ISIS and stopping other foreign terrorist threats to the U.S. homeland requires close alliances and deep engagement abroad.

Allies may also have better access to a terrorist stronghold due to geography or historic ties. Saudi Arabia, Turkey, and Jordan are within easy bombing range of ISIS’ core: the U.S. homeland is not. Although military action against ISIS’ core in Iraq and Syria is vital, it is often quiet global intelligence cooperation that does much of the day-to-day counterterrorism lifting. Given the geographic span of ISIS operations, it is not realistic for the United States to have strong unilateral capabilities in every possible country where the terrorists might operate and use as a base for anti-U.S. operations. Foreign governments fill this gap, acting as a force multiplier for the United States. Shortly after 9/11, the United States was working with over 100 countries on counterterrorism; several years into the war on terror a senior CIA official testified that virtually every capture or killing of a suspected terrorist outside Iraq involved at least some help from a foreign intelligence service. 

Many allies have skilled intelligence services, and they also use their police and their domestic intelligence services to gather information. These services of course know local languages and are culturally aware. They can also take advantage of the law in their efforts to disrupt terrorism: Terrorism, after all, is a crime. Allies, particularly less savory ones, use a government’s coercive power as well. Although people automatically think torture, governments at times threaten to jail a relative of a suspected terrorist or withhold a business permit or the right to attend university. These seemingly mundane threats are something that the United States cannot do outside its own borders. 

Many of the most basic homeland security tasks do not begin or end with the homeland.

Given these advantages, the primary role of U.S. intelligence is to cajole and strengthen allies, not replace them. The United States might provide technical assistance, as many U.S. allies are far weaker in this area. In addition, U.S. intelligence often acts as a conductor of global liaison services. In 2010, al-Qaida of the Arabian Peninsula tried to bomb two cargo planes as they approached the United States. Efforts to disrupt the plot involved not only the United States and Yemen, but also the countries in transit, including Qatar, the United Arab Emirates, Germany, and the United Kingdom. And Saudi Arabia provided a key intelligence tip. 

Many of the most basic homeland security tasks do not begin or end with the homeland. Foreign governments provide information on terrorist suspects, and there is considerable cooperation on those who might travel to the United States. Much of the screening to hinder terrorist travel and operations is done “over there,” not in the United States.

Our world is too small, and terrorists too global, to think of U.S. security narrowly. If we want to fight ISIS and other foes, we need allies. That doesn’t mean we should do whatever our allies want or support them unconditionally. But we must recognize that if we expect them to help America fight its enemies, we must stand by them as well.

         

France has been struck by an unprecedented three terror attacks in the last 18 months. In what’s called Operation Sentinelle, 13,000 French military personnel now patrol streets and protect key sites across the country, assisting police and other security agencies. “The fact that the armed forces are visible,” said French Defense Minister Jean-Yves Le Drian at a Brookings event on July 20, “help to reassure the French people that they are safe both at home and abroad.”

Do the challenges facing France today mean that it should reduce its engagement overseas, focusing instead on security at home? Le Drian doesn’t think so, and I agree. In a new book titled "Who is the Enemy?," he particularly emphasizes the multifaceted ISIS threat. As he said at Brookings: 

"Every war [has] two enemies…[Today’s] war [with ISIS] also sets in place two concepts of the “enemy” that are radically different: From a strategic point of view, we are dealing with a proto-state; at the heart of this entity, there is a terrorist army." 

It only further complicates matters, of course, that France faces ISIS threats on several fronts: in Syria and Iraq, on the one hand, and also on its own territory. This, Le Drian stressed, means “we must seek coherence in our military action.” It also helps explain why France remains one of the most active countries in the fight against the so-called Islamic State, as well as other extremist groups in the Middle East and in sub-Saharan Africa. In 2013 and 2014, France intervened in Mali in order to prevent jihadi groups from taking over the country. The French military also has a presence in Djibouti, Lebanon, Côte d’Ivoire, the Central African Republic, Gabon, Senegal, as well as in the Pacific (in French Polynesia and New Caledonia)—not to mention Syria, where France uses the Mediterranean Sea-based Charles de Gaulle aircraft carrier to strike ISIS targets. 

France is not a warmongering country—rather, it is responding to the fact that overseas threats come to it. Although it remains unclear to what extent the Nice attacker had connections with foreign terrorist networks, it has been established that the November 2015 Paris attacks were planned and orchestrated from Syria. This, among other considerations, has prompted France to engage further in Iraq and Syria. The rationale, as Minister Le Drian explained, is: 

“[T]rading our peace by reducing our military involvement doesn’t make sense. The more we let ISIS consolidate its presence on the Middle East, the more it will gather resources, attract fighters, and plan more attacks against us.” 

Team player

French policy isn’t just about ensuring its own security—rather, its many contributions are integrated within global efforts, including U.S.-led ones. As Le Drian said at Brookings: “I am convinced that the French-American relationship is stronger and better than ever.” France is a prominent participant of the 66-member international coalition against ISIS, and in that capacity participated in the first joint meeting of that group’s foreign and defense ministers in Washington this month. 

France remains a key member of the joint military operation Inherent Resolve in Iraq and Syria, which has damaged or destroyed over 26,0000 ISIS-related targets since August 2014. The Charles de Gaulle carrier—with 26 aircrafts on board—has been an essential part of that coalition mission. Following specific instructions from U.S. Defense Secretary Ash Carter and his counterpart in Paris, Minister Le Drian, French and U.S. intelligence agencies cooperate closely in intelligence-sharing. And just last week, President François Hollande announced that France will soon be supplying artillery to Iraq to support its fight against ISIS. Beyond the Iraq-Syria theater, France is cooperating with the United States and other partners in Libya, another country that is both a victim and source of extremist threats. 

The French Defense Ministry’s efforts to double-down on protecting French citizens within France, therefore, has not reduced its overseas role. Particularly now that the United Kingdom will leave the European Union, France’s military role has never been so important. France—along with Germany, which recently suggested it would raise its defense spending significantly—should continue to play a leading role as one the top defense actors in the West. 

         

Media coverage of the Islamic State has focused on the group’s grotesque use of violence and archaic governance style. Less attention has been paid, however, to the institutions that make those practices possible—institutions that lend the group legitimacy, at least in the eyes of supporters, as a sovereign state. In her new Brookings Analysis Paper, “The legal foundations of the Islamic State,” Mara Revkin argues that legal institutions play a critical role in the Islamic State’s state-building project. Those structures help the group take and keep territory, as well as provide a measure of accountability to the people living under its rule.

Lesser evil?

Revkin writes that “the Islamic State has attempted to ingratiate itself with civilians by claiming that its legal system is comparatively more legitimate and effective than the available alternatives.” The Syrian and Iraqi governments, Revkin explains, are often perceived as being highly corrupt and ineffective. The Islamic State is able to gain civilians’ favor by arguing that its political and legal institutions are more legitimate than those of the Syrian and Iraqi governments or rival armed groups. She adds: “some Syrians and Iraqis seem to prefer the legal system of the Islamic State to the available alternatives not because they agree with its ideology, but simply because they regard it as the lesser evil.” 

The Syrian and Iraqi governments...are often perceived as being highly corrupt and ineffective.

Revkin writes that for the Islamic State, shariah law is “the only legitimate basis for governance.” In cases where shariah fails to address modern-day problems, she explains, religiously legitimate authorities appointed by the Islamic State—such as military commanders, police officers, and the caliph himself—can issue legal decisions as long as they do not conflict with the divine rules of shariah or harm the welfare of the greater Muslim community. Alongside this is a system of rules and regulations to “govern civilians, discipline its own officials and combatants, and control territory” in areas of rights and duties, behavior, property, trade, and warfare. 

Making the state possible

Legal institutions help the Islamic State advance three main state-building objectives, in Revkin’s view: 

1. First, they support the Islamic State’s territorial expansion by “legitimizing [its] claims to sovereignty, justifying the expropriation of the property and land of enemies, and building goodwill with civilians.” 
2. Legal institutions also allow the Islamic State to enforce compliance and accountability of its own members and maintain internal control and discipline. Revkin describes various types of punishments the Islamic State uses to discipline its own members—these punishments are important, she writes, because “no government can establish itself as legitimate and sovereign without policing the behavior of the people who are responsible for implementing its policies.”
3. Finally, Revkin explores the legal institutions surrounding the Islamic State’s tax policies, which are “critical to financing the Islamic State’s governance and military operations.” Courts and judges, she explains, are crucial to “administering and legitimizing” taxation and justifying “economic activities that might otherwise resemble theft.” 

Weaknesses in the system

Although the Islamic State claims to have legitimate governing authority, based on a defined legal system, that system faces vulnerabilities. Revkin writes, for instance, that reports of corruption and extra-legal violence are “threatening the organization’s long-term sustainability and undermining its ability to win the trust and cooperation of civilians.”

Amid recent signs that the group is losing strength, Revkin argues that it’s struggling to maintain its own moral standards. To further weaken the Islamic State, she recommends working to undermine those institutions. The trouble is, as Revkin points out: “the Islamic State came to power largely by exploiting the weakness and illegitimacy of existing institutions” in Iraq and Syria. Thus, a sustainable plan for ultimately destroying the organization must also involve strengthening political and legal institutions in those countries. 

         

       

       

       

       

       

       

Introduction

The global community has set itself the challenge of meeting the Millennium Development Goals (MDGs) by 2015 as a way to combat world poverty and hunger. In 2007, the halfway point, it is clear that many countries will not be able to meet the MDGs without undertaking significantly greater efforts. One constraint that needs to be overcome is that development interventions—projects, programs, policies—are all too often like small pebbles thrown into a big pond: they are limited in scale, short-lived, and therefore have little lasting impact. This may explain why so many studies have found that external aid has had weak or no development impact in the aggregate, even though many individual interventions have been successful in terms of their project- or program-specific goals.

Confronted with the challenge of meeting the MDGs, the development community has recently begun to focus on the need to scale up interventions. Scaling up means taking successful projects, programs, or policies and expanding, adapting, and sustaining them in different ways over time for greater development impact. This emphasis on scaling up has emerged from concern over how to deploy and absorb the substantially increased levels of official development assistance that were promised by the wealthy countries at recent G8 summits. A fragmented aid architecture complicates this task; multilateral, bilateral, and private aid entities have multiplied, leading to many more—but smaller— aid projects and programs and increasing transaction costs for recipient countries. In response, some aid donors have started to move from project to program support, and in the Paris Declaration, official donors committed themselves to work together for better coordinated aid delivery.

The current focus on scaling up is not entirely new, however. During the 1980s, as nongovernmental organizations (NGOs) increasingly began to engage in development activities, scaling up emerged as a challenge. NGO interventions were (and are) typically small in scale and often apply new approaches. Therefore, the question of how to replicate and scale up successful models gained prominence even then, especially in connection with participatory and community development approaches. Indeed, the current interest among philanthropic foundations and NGOs in how to scale up their interventions is an echo of these earlier concerns.

In response to this increased focus on scaling up—and its increased urgency—this policy brief takes a comprehensive look at what the literature and experience have to say about whether and how to scale up development interventions.

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Executive Summary

Large-scale antipoverty programs have achieved significant and positive results in many developing countries around the world in the past decade. This paper explores the challenges of “scaling up” small-scale antipoverty programs—taken here to mean the processes by which successful efforts to raise the incomes of the poorest citizens in developing counties are expanded in coverage over time and across geography. In particular, I advocate supplementing approaches that highlight resource and program constraints with an expanded focus on the political dynamics involved in expanding pro-poor policies. Thus, greater emphasis should be placed on understanding the political factors that limit the expansion and survivability of antipoverty programs. A broader view along these lines highlights the bargaining strength of beneficiaries, the need to secure public support, the potential for political misuse of antipoverty programs, and how institutional fragilities affect their sustainability. Antipoverty programs can be effectively scaled up if attention is paid to addressing these political and institutional challenges. An agenda for future research is also identified.

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Summary

At the Gleneagles Summit in 2005, leaders of the G8 group of nations committed to increase aid to poor nations by $50 billion per year. During the same year, in a meeting in Paris, donors promised to coordinate their interventions for more effective delivery. These commitments are now often referred to as the promise of donors to “scale up aid.” Increasing aid flows and improving coordination are indeed important goals and, in fact, goals that donors seem to have trouble meeting. The international donor community met this fall in Accra and will meet in Doha in November 2008 to review progress with this aspect of scaling up aid, and it is hoped that they will recommit to meet the ambitious targets set three years ago.

Scaling up aid is only one of the challenges that donors face. A more important challenge is to “scale up through aid,” meaning that aid flows should not merely support short-lived, one-time and partial development interventions—pilot projects, short-term technical assistance, programs that only address part of the problem, but leave major bottlenecks unaddressed—but should support projects, programs and policies that scale up successful interventions in a country, region or globally to reach the entire target population. Scaling up means that programs are long-term and sustained and that external support is aligned with country needs and deals comprehensively with the development challenges—often by working in partnership with other donors and pooling resources. This is the scaling up challenge that donors should address head-on, but so far have not.

This policy brief reports on the findings of an in-depth review of the literature and practice of scaling up development interventions and focuses on the role that aid donors can play in supporting scaling up for effective development. It stresses that successful scaling up with external assistance means that donor agencies need to: work with a vision and leadership; help create the political constituencies for large-scale implementation; create linkages among project, program and policy interventions; strengthen the institutional capacity of the implementing entities; provide for effective incentives and accountabilities of their own staff and management; work together with each other; monitor and evaluate the progress of programs with special attention to the scaling up dimension; and finally make sure they focus on effective preparation and flexible implementation of the scaling up process. While this is a long-term agenda, donors can take a few practical steps right away that will provide a basis for a more ambitious effort over time.

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Abstract

Scaling up of development interventions is much debated today as a way to improve their impact and effectiveness. Based on a review of scaling up literature and practice, this paper develops a framework for the key dynamics that allow the scaling up process to happen. The authors explore the possible approaches and paths to scaling up, the drivers of expansion and of replication, the space that has to be created for interventions to grow, and the role of evaluation and of careful planning and implementation. They draw a number of lessons for the development analyst and practitioner. More than anything else, scaling up is about political and organizational leadership, about vision, values and mindset, and about incentives and accountability—all oriented to make scaling up a central element of individual, institutional, national and international development efforts. The paper concludes by highlighting some implications for aid and aid donors.

An annotated bibliography of the literature on scaling up and development aid effectiveness was created by Oksana Pidufala to supplement this working paper. Read more »

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EXECUTIVE SUMMARY

Fragile states present one of the greatest challenges to global development and poverty reduction. Despite much new learning that has emerged from within the development community in recent years, understanding of how to address fragility remains modest. There is growing recognition that donor engagement in fragile states must look beyond the confines of the traditional aid effectiveness agenda if it is to achieve its intended objectives, which include statebuilding, meeting the needs of citizens, and managing risk more effectively. Current approaches are constrained by relying heavily on small-scale interventions, are weakened by poor coordination and volatility, and struggle to promote an appropriate role for the recipient state.

Scaling up (i.e., the expansion, replication, adaption and sustaining of successful policies and programs in space and over time to reach a greater number of people) is highly relevant to fragile settings, both as an objective and as a strategic approach to development. As an objective, it reinforces the logic that the scale of the challenges in fragile states demands interventions that are commensurate in purpose and equal to the task. As a strategy, it encourages donors to identify and leverage successes, and to integrate institutional development more explicitly into projects and programs. In addition, scaling up can assist donors in addressing the priority areas of improved project design and implementation, sustainability and effective risk management.

Successful scaling up in fragile states almost certainly occurs less often than is possible and does not always involve a systematic approach. Donors should therefore look to more systematically pursue scaling up in fragile states and evaluate their performance with specific reference to this objective. This can be done by incorporating relevant elements of a scaling up framework into operational policies, from strategy development through to program design and monitoring.

Contrary to expectations, there are compelling examples of successful scaling up in fragile states. While the conditions prevailing in fragile states create serious obstacles in terms of “drivers” (the forces that push the scaling up process forward) and “spaces” (the opportunities that need to be created, or potential obstacles that need to be removed for interventions to grow), and in terms of the operational modalities of donors, these can be overcome through the careful design and delivery of programs with a clear focus on creating scaling up pathways, and through close partnership and sustained engagement of governments, communities and foreign partners.

Case study evidence suggests that the pathways taken to reach scale in fragile states demand different approaches by donors. Donors need to adopt greater selectivity in determining which areas or sectors for scaling up are justified—a strategy that has also assisted some donors in managing risk. More investment and time are required in upfront analysis and building the evidence for successful scaling up pathways. In some cases, donors require longer time horizons to achieve scale, although demand from government or beneficiaries has sometimes forced donors to move immediately to scale, allowing little or no time for piloting. Regardless of the pace of scaling up, donors that were most successful were engaged early and then remained engaged, often far beyond the replication phase of scaling up, to increase the likelihood of interventions being sustained. Other common characteristics of successful scaling up were simple project design and a focus on the institutional aspects of the scaling up pathway.

Case studies also point to the crucial role of drivers in moving the scaling up process forward in fragile states. Proven ideas and practical models have often been picked up in fragile states, contrary to the expectation that actors may be less responsive to recognizing and acting on the utility of promising results. Leaders undoubtedly have a role to play in supporting scaling up, although there are clear dangers that must be avoided, including avoiding the perception that donors are picking (political) winners by nominating leaders, and tying the survival of projects too closely to the fortunes of a leader’s political career. Incentives were found to be one of the most important drivers in fragile states, and there is a good case to be made for donors introducing new inducements, greater transparency or similar reforms to strengthen the role incentives play. Finally, and in contrast to the standard scaling up framework, community demand was found to be an important driver in many fragile states, both in demanding the expansion of small-scale projects and by facilitating the community’s own resources to support the scaling up process.

The greatest challenge to scaling up in fragile states is the limited spaces these environments provide. This is especially the case in respect to those spaces which concern aspects of governance: political, institutional and policy spaces. When working in fragile states, donors must recognize that spaces for scaling up are almost always more constrained, but look for ways to expand upon them. Some of the most successful examples of scaling up used creative approaches to build space quickly or used existing capacity to the fullest possible extent. Also relevant are the lessons of robust analysis, greater realism and cost control. The case studies confirm the importance of two additional spaces in fragile states. For example, security space often imposed horizontal obstacles to scaling up which could not realistically be overcome while ownership space served as a good indication of the perceived legitimacy of the scaling up process and the likelihood that interventions would be sustained longer term.

Case studies also affirm the importance of emphasizing robust project design and implementation, and the close linkages between the scaling up agenda and the role of risk management and sustainability in fragile states. While sustainability presented a significant problem for many of the projects and programs reviewed, a more focused approach around scaling up may assist donors in addressing sustainability concerns. This would entail adopting a longer-term perspective beyond the immediate confines of any individual project, looking for available drivers and supportive spaces, and focusing on effective implementation and consistent monitoring and evaluation (M&E). Any intervention introduced on a small scale that scores well in sustainability serves as a possible candidate for scaling up.

Similarly, many of the methods used by donors for managing risk—an emphasis on analysis, scenario planning, realism and making use of specialized aid instruments—are equally relevant for supporting scaling up in fragile countries. A persuasive argument can be made that the adoption of a more explicit scaling up approach by donors can form part of a risk management strategy in fragile states. Scaling up can enable donors to more ambitiously tackle development risks without allowing institutional and project risks to grow unchecked. Ultimately, a donor approach that combines good risk management and scaling up requires strong leadership and well-aligned incentives.

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Development ministers and experts will meet at the Fourth High Level Forum on Aid Effectiveness in Busan, Korea, in November 2011 to assess their efforts to improve the impact of aid. A recent survey by the Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD) shows that little progress has been made since they met in Accra in 2008 for their Third High Level Forum. The many good intentions to improve coordination among donors, to enhance the alignment of aid programs with the priorities of aid recipients, and to develop effective partnerships in practice have turned out to be difficult to implement.

If anything, the challenge has become greater: the number of aid agencies keeps rising, as does the number of aid-supported projects, while average project size continues to drop. According to the OECD, more than half of the 90,000 official aid projects implemented annually are now well below $100,000 in size. With so many small interventions, most of them one-time, without links to each other, driven by the short-lived preferences of individual agencies and individuals in agencies, it is no surprise that the lofty goals of aid ministers go unrealized and that the cumulative impact of the many well-intentioned small aid projects is minimal at best.

It doesn’t have to be that way. There are examples of successful development programs that have lifted millions of people out of poverty, have greatly improved health conditions and have generated new business and employment opportunities. Examples such as the Mexican government’s national program of cash transfers to poor households (“Progresa- Oportunidades”) which conditions assistance on whether children attend school and mothers take their infants for health check-ups; the multi-donor program to eradicate the deadly river-blindness disease in West-Africa; the community based microcredit and employment programs of Grameen Bank and BRAC in Bangladesh; the Chinese government’s program for the development of the loess plateau with support of the World Bank; or the program of rural poverty reduction in the highlands of Peru supported by the International Fund for Agricultural Development (IFAD) – these are just a few examples of cases where the impact of development programs has been at a scale such that it made a real and lasting difference in the lives of millions of people. And success at scale is also possible in fragile and conflict-affected states as a recent review by the Brookings Institution for the Australian aid agency AusAID has shown.

This raises three questions that development ministers should consider as they prepare for and meet in Busan: What made these success stories possible? Why are they the exception rather than the rule? What needs to be done the make scaling up the norm? Let us take these questions in turn.

What made these success stories possible? Each case has its own ingredients of success, but three dimensions are common to them all:

• The programs pursued a scaling up pathway towards a long-term goal: Few successful programs followed a blueprint for long-term scaling up from the start, but they all built on the recognition that if the early steps were successfully piloted, subsequent steps needed to systematically replicate and scale up what works, adapting the approach in the light of lessons learned at each of the earlier project. A key element in this connection is that the long-term objective of scale impact is part of the program concept from the beginning; that monitoring and evaluation are designed to test not only whether an idea works, but also to measure progress against the long-term goal; and that an effort is made to identify the drivers, to create the spaces and to chart a suitable scaling up pathway for programs to move from small pilot to impact at scale.
  
  
• The programs benefitted from strong and sustained drivers for scaling up: Specifically, they had strong leadership with a clear vision of the need for large scale impact, with ideas that were suited to the challenge, ready to learn from experience, willing to stay engaged for the long haul, championing the cause, building partnerships with other like-minded actors and politically savvy in overcoming obstacles. This leadership could come from public officials, such as the President of Mexico and his Deputy Minister of Finance in the case of “Progresa”, from private individuals, such as the founders of Grameen Bank and BRAC, from a community of national experts and community leaders, as in the case of the Peru Highlands Development Program, from outside aid donors, as in the case of the West-African River- Blindness program, or be part of a wellestablished system of experimentation with replication of success as established in China’s approach to economic growth.
  
  
• The programs created the space for sustained growth: As programs expanded successfully they managed to open up financial and fiscal space by keeping costs down and finding suitable financing mechanisms; they pursued policy reforms that created favorable legal and regulatory conditions; they created the institutional space by identifying appropriate organizational approaches and building institutions for managing the programs at scale; they adapted approaches to the specific cultural realities; and they created political coalitions and operational partnerships that made it possible to grow and sustain the initiative. In the case of “Progresa- Oportunidades” the Mexican government designed a program with a long-term goal of universal coverage of all poor, but started with carefully designed pilots, which were subjected to detailed evaluation against control groups and adapted as needed during the 5-10 year scale-up phase. It created the required fiscal and financial space by abandoning other less successful social programs and by seeking the support of international financial institutions. The government also insulated “Progresa-Oportunidades” from political controversy by carefully monitoring and documenting its positive impacts and by legally assuring that it did not get caught up in party politics. Finally, it designed an institutional approach suitable for phased nation-wide scale-up with minimal bureaucratic obstacles.

Why are these success stories the exception rather than the rule? The first explanation for the lack of systematic and effective focus on scaling up lies in the nature of governmental and bureaucratic incentives and the resulting planning and implementation mechanisms in the developing countries themselves. Typically, governmental plans set out broad targets, policies and implementation modalities, but they generally do not link specific interventions, projects and programs or individual agency budgets and investment plans with the longer-term goals set forth in national or sectoral plans. Moreover, whenever governments or heads of agencies change, the new leadership has a strong tendency to discard the programs supported by the former incumbents and instead to pursue new ideas and new programs. Finally, the practice of methodically evaluating the impact of programs is poorly understood in most countries, and in any case is not well appreciated, since politicians and agencies like to claim success, but prefer not to acknowledge failures in their programs. Contrast this with the incentives for scaling up in the private sector: In a competitive market a successful new initiative, i.e., one that makes a profit, will be replicated and scaled up either by the firm that pioneered it, or by competitors who see the opportunity to garner some of the potential profit for themselves.

The second explanation can be found in the way aid agencies work. While some donors help governments with advice and technical assistance to develop a longer-term national, sub-national and sectoral plans and improved budgeting and investment planning mechanisms, the aid agencies’ own operational modalities and incentives tend to operate just like those of governments: Their operational policies, programming, management and staffing do not encourage support for systematic scaling up. On the contrary, they tend to focus on innovative initiatives and even discourage replication of successful projects and programs. They do not reward effective monitoring and evaluation against longer-term objectives. They rotate managers and staff frequently and with little attention to ensure appropriate hand-over. And the incentives for staff are to start new projects rather than focusing on implementing and building on ongoing ones. And while partnerships, coordination and handing off programs to the clients are encouraged at the level of ministers and agency heads, in practice staff have little incentive to pursue these avenues, since they take time, effort and even budgetary resources, increase risks of delay and of loss of institutional identity and control, and since fiduciary requirements for procurement and disbursements are not harmonized among donors.

What needs to be done to make scaling up the norm? Let us start with aid agencies. Donors have an obligation to do no harm, and it can be argued that their proliferation of small, one-time, uncoordinated and unevaluated interventions do more harm than good. They certainly represent an opportunity forgone, namely the opportunity to support a systematic focus on scaling up successful development interventions. Indeed, this represents an obligation that should be reflected in the mission statements of all official aid organizations, as well as in those of the larger non-governmental organizations and foundations that provide development assistance A recent assessment of donor performance in terms of their attention to scaling up concluded that donors need to address five critical gaps in their operation approach:

1. Institutional information gap: Aid agencies should review and develop their institutional approaches to scaling up.
2. Evaluation gap: Evaluations of donor projects should include an assessment of the scaling up practices of donors.
3. Incentives gap: Donors need to develop internal and external incentives (e.g., operational policies and staff incentives; replication funds, competitions) to help drive the scaling up process.
4. Partnership gap: Donors should expand the use of programmatic approaches and instruments with joint funding of programs designed to bring donors together so they can help scale up successful interventions;
5. Ownership gap: Ultimately, scaling up is a country’s job; donors need to help by setting an example, build capacity and hand off to agents in the country.

In their turn, the governments of developing countries need to make scaling up of successful interventions an explicit part of their national planning and programming, need to implement rigorous monitoring and evaluation as learning and accountability mechanisms for the political and agency leadership, and need to find ways to ensure that successful programs do not fall victim of the electoral cycle.

The good news is that progress is being made. There is now a well established body of evidence that scaling up can and does work, even in fragile states. There exists a framework for analyzing, planning monitoring and evaluating scaling up approaches, building on the scaling up pathway, drivers and incentives concepts as summarized above. Examples of governments focused on scaling up success show that it is possible to pursue this avenue to development, with China the outstanding case in point. And some aid agencies have begun to focus systematically on scaling up in their operational mission, strategy, policies, processes and incentives, among them IFAD, the Global Fund to Fight AIDS, Tuberculosis and Malaria, and the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation. The United Nations Development Program has made scaling up an explicitcriterion in its evaluation of its programs. And the Gesellschaft für Internationale Zusammenarbeit (GIZ) recently issued practical guidelines for scaling up.

What is needed now, and what development ministers and agency heads should focus on in Busan and beyond, are the following three important priorities to ensure that an operational focus on scaling up becomes the rule, not the exception, in the way governments and aid agencies work:

1. Developing country governments commit themselves to introduce the scaling up objective and practice into their own planning, implementation, evaluation and accountability mechanisms.
2. Official donors and large private donors commit to introduce the objective and practice of scaling up into their mission statements, operational policies and evaluation practices.
3. Donors specifically commit to assist development partners through their technical and financial assistance to implement systematic approaches and incentive mechanisms that help drive the scaling up of successful development interventions. Scaling up success is not rocket science. It is a simple, intuitively appealing concept. And yet in practice it has been an orphan in the development literature and practice. Fortunately, this is now changing. We do not need complex models and metrics, nor do governments and aid agencies need sophisticated operational instruments. What we need is for scaling up to become the accepted goal at the political and institutional level. We need a clear vision of scaling up pathways, an assessment of the needed drivers and spaces for scaling up. And we need a readiness to evaluate progress against ultimate and intermediate goals and to adjust the scaling up pathway in light of the lessons learned.

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A key objective of the United Nations Development Programme (UNDP) is to assist its member countries in meeting the Millennium Development Goals (MDGs). UNDP pursues this objective in various ways, including through analysis and advice to governments on the progress towards the MDGs (such as support for the preparation and monitoring Poverty Reduction Strategies, or PRSs, in poor countries), assistance for capacity building, and financial and technical support for the preparation and implementation of development programs.

The challenge of achieving the MDGs remains daunting in many countries, including Tajikistan. To do so will require that all development partners, i.e., the government, civil society, private business and donors, make every effort to scale up successful development interventions. Scaling up refers to “expanding, adapting and sustaining successful policies, programs and projects on different places and over time to reach a greater number of people.” Interventions that are successful as pilots but are not scaled up will create localized benefits for a small number of beneficiaries, but they will fail to contribute significantly to close the MDG gap.

This paper aims to assess whether and how well UNDP is supporting scaling up in its development programs in Tajikistan. While the principal purpose of this assessment was to assist the UNDP country program director and his team in Tajikistan in their scaling up efforts, it also contributes to the overall growing body of evidence on the scaling up of development interventions worldwide.

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Editor's Note: The World Bank’s Independent Evaluation Group (IEG) recently published a self-evaluation of its activities. Besides representing current thinking among evaluation experts at the World Bank, it also more broadly reflects some of the strengths and gaps in the approaches that evaluators use to assess and learn from the performance of the international institutions with which they work. The old question “Quis custodet ipsos custodes?” – loosely translated as “Who evaluates the evaluators?” – remains as relevant as ever. Johannes Linn served as an external peer reviewer of the self-evaluation and provides a bird’s-eye view on the lessons learned.

An Overview of the World Bank’s IEG Self-Evaluation Report

In 2011 the World Bank’s Independent Evaluation Group (IEG) carried out and published a self-evaluation of its activities. The self-evaluation team was led by an internal manager, but involved a respected external evaluation expert as the principal author and also an external peer reviewer.

The IEG self-evaluation follows best professional practices as codified by the Evaluation Cooperation Group (ECG). This group brings together the evaluation offices of seven major multilateral financial institutions in joint efforts designed to enhance evaluation performance and cooperation among their evaluators. One can therefore infer that the approach and focus of the IEG self-evaluation is representative of a broader set of practices that are currently used by the evaluation community of international financial organizations.

At the outset the IEG report states that “IEG is the largest evaluation department among Evaluation Capacity Group (ECG) members and is held in high regard by the international evaluation community. Independent assessments of IEG’s role as an independent evaluation function for the Bank and IFC rated it above the evaluation functions in most other ECG members, international nongovernmental organizations, and transnational corporations and found that IEG follows good practice evaluation principles.”

The self-evaluation report generally confirms this positive assessment. For four out of six areas of its mandate IEG gives itself the second highest rating (“good”) out of six possible rating categories. This includes (a) the professional quality of its evaluations, (b) its reports on how the World Bank’s management follows up on IEG recommendations, (c) cooperation with other evaluation offices, and (d) assistance to borrowing countries in improving their own evaluation capacity. In the area of appraising the World Bank’s self-evaluation and risk management practices, the report offers the third highest rating (“satisfactory”), while it gives the third lowest rating (“modest”) for IEG’s impact on the Bank’s policies, strategies and operations. In addition the self-evaluation concludes that overall the performance of IEG has been “good” and that it operates independently, effectively and efficiently.

The report makes a number of recommendations for improvement, which are likely to be helpful, but have limited impact on its activities. They cover measures to further enhance the independence of IEG and the consistency of evaluation practices as applied across the World Bank Group’s branches – the World Bank, the International Finance Corporation (IFC), and the Multilateral Investment Guarantee Agency (MIGA) –; to improve the design of evaluations and the engagement with Bank management upstream for greater impact; and monitoring the impact of recent organizational changes in IEG in terms of results achieved. The report also recommends that more be done to evaluate the Bank’s analytical work and that evaluations draw on comparative evidence.

Assessment

In terms of the parameters of self-evaluation set by the prevailing practice among the evaluators on international financial agencies, the IEG self-evaluation is accurate and helpful. From my own experience as an operational manager in the Bank whose activities were evaluated by IEG in years past, and as a user of IEG evaluations (and of evaluations of other international aid organizations) for my research on aid effectiveness, I concur that IEG is independent and effective in meeting its mandate as defined. Moreover, the self-evaluation produces useful quantitative evidence (including survey results, budget analysis, etc.) to corroborate qualitative judgments.

However, the self-evaluation suffers from a number of limitations in approach and gaps in focus, which are broadly representative of the practices prevalent among many of the evaluation offices of international aid agencies.

Approach of the IEG self-evaluation

The core of the self-evaluation report is about the evaluation process followed by IEG, with very little said about the substance of IEG’s evaluations. The following questions could have usefully been raised, but were not: do evaluations cover the right issues with the right intensity, such as growth and poverty; environmental, governance, and gender impacts; regional dimensions versus exclusive country or project focus; effectiveness in addressing the problems of fragile and conflict states; effectiveness in dealing with global public goods; sustainability and scaling up; etc. Therefore the report does not deal with the question of whether IEG effectively responds in its evaluations to the many important strategic debates and issues with which the development community is grappling.

Related to this limitation is the fact that the report assessed the quality of IEG’s mostly in terms of (a) whether its approach and processes meet certain standards established by the Evaluation Cooperation Group; and (b) how it is judged by stakeholders in response to a survey commissioned for this evaluation. Both these approaches are useful, but they do not have any basis in professional assessments of the quality of individual products. This is equivalent to IEG evaluating the World Bank’s projects on the quality of its processes (e.g., appraisal and supervision processes) and on the basis of stakeholder surveys, without evaluating individual products and their impacts.

Gaps in the Self-Evaluation and in Evaluation Practice

Careful reading of the report reveals six important gaps in the IEG self-evaluation, in the prevailing evaluation practice in the World Bank, and more generally in the way international financial organizations evaluate their own performance. The first three gaps relate to aspects of the evaluation approach used and the second three gaps relate to lack of focus in the self-evaluation on key internal organizational issues:

1. Impact Evaluations: The report notes that IEG carries out two to three impact evaluations per year, but it sidesteps the debate in the current evaluation literature and practice as to what extent the “gold standard” of randomized impact evaluation should occupy a much more central role. Given the importance of this debate and divergence of views, it would have been appropriate for the self-evaluation to assess IEG’s current practice of very limited use of randomized evaluations.

2. Evaluation of Scaling Up: The report does not address the question of to what extent current IEG practice not only assesses the performance of individual projects in terms of their outcomes and sustainability, but also in terms of whether the Bank has systematically built on its experience in specific projects to help scale up their impact through support for expansion or replication in follow-up operations or through effective hand-off to the government or other partners. In fact, currently IEG does not explicitly and systematically consider scaling up in its project and program evaluations. For example, in a recent IEG evaluation of World Bank funded municipal development projects (MDPs) , IEG found that the Bank has supported multiple MDPs in many countries over the years, but the evaluation did not address the obvious question whether the Bank systematically planned for the project sequence or built on its experience from prior projects in subsequent operations. While most other evaluation offices like IEG do not consider scaling up, some (in particular those of the International Fund for Agricultural Development and the United Nations Development Program) have started doing so in recent years.

3. Drawing on the Experience of and Benchmarking Against Other Institutions: The self-evaluation report does a good job in benchmarking IEG performance in a number of respects against that of other multilateral institutions. In the main text of the report it states that “IEG plans to develop guidelines for approach papers to ensure greater quality, in particular in drawing on comparative information from other sources and benchmarking against other institutions.” This is a welcome intention, but it is inadequately motivated in the rest of the report and not reflected in the Executive Summary. The reality is that IEG, like most multilateral evaluation offices, so far has not systematically drawn on the evaluations and relevant experience of other aid agencies in its evaluations of World Bank performance. This has severely limited the learning impact of the evaluations.

4. Bank Internal Policies, Management Processes and Incentives: IEG evaluations traditionally do not focus on how the Bank’s internal policies, management and incentives affect the quality of Bank engagement in countries. Therefore evaluations cannot offer any insights into whether and how Bank-internal operating modalities contribute to results. Two recent exceptions are notable exceptions. First, the IEG evaluation of the Bank’s approach to harmonization with other donors and alignment with country priorities assesses the incentives for staff to support harmonization and alignment. The evaluation concludes that there are insufficient incentives, a finding disputed by management. Second, is the evaluation of the Bank’s internal matrix management arrangements, which is currently under way. The self-evaluation notes that Bank management tried to quash the matrix evaluation on the grounds that it did not fall under the mandate of IEG. This is an unfortunate argument, since an assessment of the institutional reasons for the Bank’s performance is an essential component of any meaningful evaluation of Bank-supported programs. While making a good case for the specific instance of the matrix evaluation, the self-evaluation report shies away from a more general statement in support of engaging IEG on issues of Bank-internal policies, management processes and incentives. It is notable that IFAD’s Independent Office of Evaluation appears to be more aggressive in this regard: It currently is carrying out a full evaluation of IFAD’s internal efficiency and previous evaluations (e.g., an evaluation of innovation and scaling up) did not shy away from assessing internal institutional dimensions.

5. World Bank Governance: The IEG self-evaluation is even more restrictive in how it interprets its mandate regarding the evaluation of the World Bank’s governance structures and processes (including its approach to members’ voice and vote, the functioning of its board of directors, the selection of its senior management, etc.). It considers these topics beyond IEG’s mandate. This is unfortunate, since the way the Bank’s governance evolves will substantially affect its long-term legitimacy, effectiveness and viability as an international financial institution. Since IEG reports to the Bank’s board of directors, and many of the governance issues involve questions of the board’s composition, role and functioning, there is a valid question of how effectively IEG could carry out such an evaluation. However, it is notable that the IMF’s Independent Evaluation Office, which similarly reports to the IMF board of directors, published a full evaluation of the IMF’s governance in 2008, which effectively addressed many of the right questions.

6. Synergies between World Bank, IFC and MIGA: The self-evaluation report points out that the recent internal reorganization of IEG aimed to assure more effective and consistent evaluations across the three member branches of the World Bank Group. This is welcome, but the report does not assess how past evaluations addressed the question of whether the World Bank, IFC and MIGA effectively capitalized on the potential synergies among the three organizations. The recent evaluation of the World Bank Group’s response to the global economic crisis of 2008/9 provided parallel assessments of each agency’s performance, but did not address whether they work together effectively in maximizing their synergies. The reality is that the three organizations have deeply engrained institutional cultures and generally go their own ways rather than closely coordinating their activities on the ground. Future evaluations should explicitly consider whether the three effectively cooperate or not. While the World Bank is unique in the way it has organizationally separated its private sector and guarantee operations, other aid organizations also have problems of a lack of cooperation, coordination and synergy among different units within the agency. Therefore, the same comment also applies to their evaluation approaches.

Conclusions

Self-evaluations are valuable tools for performance assessment and IEG is to be congratulated for carrying out and publishing such an evaluation of its own activities. As for all self-evaluations, it should be seen as an input to an independent external evaluation, a decision that, for now, has apparently been postponed by the Bank’s board of directors.

IEG’s self-evaluation has many strengths and provides an overall positive assessment of IEG’s work. However, it does reflect some important limitations of analysis and of certain gaps in approach and coverage, which an independent external review should consider explicitly, and which IEG’s management should address. Since many of these issues also likely apply to most of the other evaluation approaches by other evaluation offices, the lessons have relevance beyond IEG and the World Bank.

Key lessons include:

• An evaluation of evaluations should focus not only on process, but also on the substantive issues that the institution is grappling with.
• An evaluation of the effectiveness of evaluations should include a professional assessment of the quality of evaluation products.
• An evaluation of evaluations should assess:
  o How effectively impact evaluations are used;
  o How scaling up of successful interventions is treated;
  o How the experience of other comparable institutions is utilized;
  o Whether and how the internal policies, management practices and incentives of the institution are effectively assessed;
  o Whether and how the governance of the institution is evaluated; and
  o Whether and how internal coordination, cooperation and synergy among units within the organizations are assessed.

Evaluations play an essential role in the accountability and learning of international aid organizations. Hence it is critical that evaluations address the right issues and use appropriate techniques. If the lessons above were reflected in the evaluation practices of the aid institutions, this would represent a significant step forward in the quality, relevance and likely impact of evaluations.

       

       

       

       

       

       

       

       

       

       

       

       

       

Today, Egyptian President Abdel-Fattah el-Sissi is witnessing the most vocal and angry objection to his rule since he took power via a military coup in 2013. Across Cairo and beyond, Egyptians are gathering and chanting some of the same slogans from the January 2011 revolution—such as “the people want the fall of the regime” and “down with military rule.” These protests are not a spontaneous uprising. They were planned and announced on April 15, when thousands of Egyptians took to the streets, protesting the latest in a series of bold and controversial decisions that are slowly and steadily chipping away at Sissi’s once solid support structure abroad and at home.

During Saudi King Salman’s recent visit to Cairo, the Egyptian government announced that it had agreed to transfer sovereignty of two Red Sea islands—Tiran and Sanafir—to Saudi Arabia. This decision, which coincided with a $22 billion oil and aid deal, has a clear short term pay-off: a substantial Band-Aid on Egypt’s gaping economic wounds. But Sissi and his government are once again dramatically underestimating just how self-destructive their behavior can be. As my colleague Tamara Wittes eloquently noted, Egypt “continues to throw obstacles in the road of U.S.-Egyptian cooperation.” But even worse than the self-sabotage in Egypt’s foreign relations is the damage Sissi is doing to his reputation at home. 

The decision to transfer the islands to Saudi Arabia may turn out to be the final nail in Sissi’s coffin.

To the streets, again

Following the announcement of this decision, Egyptians took to Twitter, with the hashtag “leave” and “I didn’t elect Sissi” trending in Egypt. Lawyers filed lawsuits in Egyptian courts opposing the agreement. And plans were made for a much larger protest today, Sinai Liberation Day. 

But today’s protests are different than in the past. First, while the anti-Sissi protesters had time to plan and coordinate their actions, so did the regime. Today, pro-Sissi supporters organized their own protests, proudly waving the Saudi flag in Cairo’s symbolic Tahrir Square. The Egyptian Air Force painted the Egyptian flag in the sky. And the security forces came out in droves early today across greater Cairo, closing off access to most of the usual protests sites (such as the Journalists’ Syndicate and the Doctors’ Syndicate) and making a massive show of force to deter people from coming out. 

The government clearly learned a few lessons since Mubarak’s fall. A law passed in 2013 requires pre-approval from the Interior Ministry for any protest activity. That gave Sissi’s henchmen a green light to round up actual and suspected protesters as they have been doing since Thursday, arresting hundreds of suspected agitators and human rights activists on charges related to organizing today’s protests. (Notably, the pro-Sissi demonstrators have not been touched.) As each new anti-regime protest pops up today, security forces are there, arresting protesters and journalists and dispersing them with tear gas and rubber bullets. Regardless of the final outcome of today’s events, Sissi should pay attention to the growing dissatisfaction among the Egyptian people. 

The symbolism of holding today’s protests on Sinai Liberation Day is potent. Threats to Egypt’s nationalism and national sovereignty have long been key drivers of Egyptian rage, allowing the protest organizers to tap in to the anger and frustration shared by Egyptians across the political spectrum. The outrage citizens have expressed in the streets, online, and in the media should be a red flag to Sissi, who is hemorrhaging support. 

Notably, he’s now struck a nerve not just with Islamists or others in the anti-Sissi crowd, but with one of the few remaining bastions of Sissi supporters—the everyday Egyptians who are not normally politically engaged. This is a group of people who, following five years of political turmoil, see Sissi as Egypt’s best chance at stability in an increasingly unstable neighborhood. And they’re generally willing to forgive Sissi for his transgressions. They don’t believe the theory that the Egyptian security services are responsible for Italian PhD student Giulio Regeni’s death. They agree that foreign funding of NGOs is a form of Western meddling in Egyptian affairs. They justify the brutal crackdown on free expression in the name of security. But secretly concocting a deal to give away Egyptian land—that is one pill even they can’t swallow. 

Final straws?

Making matters worse are reports that Egypt consulted with Israel and the United States prior to the transfer. While the Israeli-Egyptian peace treaty remains active, Egypt and Israel’s peace is cold, at best. The notion that Sissi would consult with Israel over something that he kept secret from his own people is the ultimate insult and betrayal to many Egyptians. The facts behind the transfer matter very little. What matters is the perception of the Egyptian public that President Sissi has duped them. 

The decision to transfer the islands to Saudi Arabia may turn out to be the final nail in Sissi’s coffin. Over the past several months, he has lost other pillars of support—including secular revolutionaries, who saw former President Morsi and the Muslim Brotherhood as subverting the revolution and supported the military’s return to power. The far-reaching and brutal crackdown on Egyptian journalists and NGOs turned many of them off from Sissi. And wealthy Egyptians, who believed Sissi’s promises to grow the economy and protect their assets, have increasingly questioned their leader as Egypt’s economy continues to plummet. 

Sissi is not only running out of supporters, he is also running out of excuses.

Sissi is not only running out of supporters, he is also running out of excuses. Rather than admit his mistakes, Sissi has defended his actions, shifting the blame and feeding conspiracy theories. While protests were growing across Egypt on April 15, Sissi spoke to a group of Egyptian youth, referencing a “hellish scheme” to destabilize Egypt from within. 

Unfortunately for Sissi, there is no such “scheme.” In 2011 it was not a Western plot, as some Egyptian conspiracy theories have suggested, that ousted Mubarak—it was the Egyptian people, fed up with actions Mubarak carried out as president. In 2013, the coup that ousted Morsi succeeded because the people were fed up with decisions he made in office to consolidate power and reject democratic reforms. Had either Mubarak or Morsi spent as much time responding to the wants and needs of their citizenry as they had quashing dissent, one of them might still be in office. Much like his predecessors, what Sissi fails to understand is that the thing most likely to destabilize his government is neither an external conspiracy not an internal scheme—it’s him. 

      

Editors’ Note: Donald Trump has exposed the tension between democracy and liberal values—similar to the Arab Spring, writes Shadi Hamid. This piece originally appeared on The Atlantic.

When I was living in the Middle East, politics always felt existential, in a way that I suppose I could never fully understand. After all, I could always leave (as my relatives in Egypt were fond of reminding me). But it was easy enough to sense it. Here, in the era of Arab revolt, elections really had consequences. Politics wasn’t about policy; it was about a battle over the very meaning and purpose of the nation-state. These were the things that mattered more than anything else, in part because they were impossible to measure or quantify.

The primary divide in most Arab countries was between Islamists and non-Islamists. The latter, especially those of a more secular bent, feared that Islamist rule, however “democratic” it might be, would alter the nature of their countries beyond recognition. It wouldn’t just affect their governments or their laws, but how they lived, what they wore, and how they raised their sons and daughters.

Perhaps more than at any other time, millions of Americans are getting a sense, however mild in comparison, of what it might feel like to lose your country—or at least think about losing your country—because of what people decide to do in the privacy of the voting booth. It still remains (somewhat) unlikely that Donald Trump, the now presumptive Republican nominee, can win a general election. Regardless of the final outcome, however, the billionaire’s rise offers up a powerful—and frightening—reminder that liberal democracy, even where it’s most entrenched, is a fragile thing.

* * *

When I hear my friends debating how, exactly, so many of their fellow citizens could support someone like Trump, it reminds me a bit of Egypt. In my forthcoming book, I relay a telling conversation I had four years ago, which has stayed with me since. A few days after the country’s first post-revolutionary elections concluded in January 2012, I visited my great aunt in her extravagant flat in the posh Cairo suburb of Heliopolis. She was in a state of shock, but worse than that was the confusion. It was one thing for the Muslim Brotherhood, long Egypt’s largest opposition group, to win close to 40 percent of the vote, but how could 28 percent of Egyptians vote for ultraconservative Salafi parties, which believed in the strict implementation of Islamic law?

Like most Egyptians, she personally knew Brotherhood members even if she didn’t quite like them, but she hadn’t had much experience with Salafis and seemed totally unaware that they had extended their reach deep into Egyptian society. She realized, perhaps for the first time, that the country she had thought was hers for the better part of 70 years would never quite be the same. It hadn’t really even been hers to begin with.

What if voters don’t want to be liberal and vote accordingly?

What my aunt feared was that Egypt would become an “illiberal democracy,” a term popularized by Fareed Zakaria in his 2003 book The Future of Freedom, but one that’s still difficult for Americans to fundamentally relate to. In the American experience, democracy and liberalism seemed to go hand in hand, to such an extent that democracy really just became shorthand for “liberal democracy.”

As Richard Youngs writes in his excellent study of non-Western democracy, liberalism and democracy have historically been “rival notions and not bedfellows.” Liberalism is about non-negotiable personal rights and freedoms. Democracy, while requiring some basic protection of rights to allow for meaningful competition, is more about popular sovereignty, popular will, and accountability and responsiveness to the voting public. Which, of course, raises the question: What if voters don’t want to be liberal and vote accordingly?

* * *

When the stakes are high, there is more to lose, and if there is more to lose, those on the losing end of a ballot box have powerful incentives to play “spoiler.” Fortunately, in the post-Civil War United States, the stakes have never reached what political scientist Barry Weingast calls the “threshold” at which citizens decide to defend themselves through extra-constitutional means, including by appealing for the military to take sides. This, in part, is why (good) constitutions are so important: They lower the stakes, reassuring citizens that even if their preferred party loses the election, it’s still just that—an election.

Donald Trump, or more specifically what he represents, calls some of these assumptions into question. Trump himself isn’t quite an Islamist, but he is a proponent of a kind of “illiberal democracy,” even if he himself may not be familiar with the term. Drawing on a wellspring of white nativism and machismo, candidate Trump has regularly made demeaning statements about entire groups of people, including African-Americans, Mexicans, and women. His commitment to the protections enshrined in U.S. constitution are questionable, at best, and if we assume the worst, downright frightening (the difficulty with Trump is that he’s not precise with words, so it’s sometimes hard to make sense of what he’s saying). He has expressed support for registering Muslims in a database, elaborating that they could “sign up at different places.” When a reporter asked how this was different from requiring Jews to register in Nazi Germany, Trump said “you tell me,” prompting The Atlantic’s David Graham to note that “it’s hard to remember a time when a supposedly mainstream candidate had no interest in differentiating ideas he’s endorsed from those of the Nazis.” Trump, for good measure, has also refused to disavow President Franklin D. Roosevelt’s internment of Japanese-Americans.

The U.S. Constitution includes robust civil-liberties protections, enshrined in the Bill of Rights. But these protections are not unlimited. Contrary to popular belief, majorities—if they’re large enough—can, in fact, do nearly anything they want, even in established democracies. It’s only really a question of how high the majoritarian bar is. In the United States, two-thirds of Congress and 75 percent of the states can amend or repeal articles of the Constitution. They could theoretically pass a constitutional amendment banning abortion. In countries like Egypt, Tunisia, and Turkey, where alcohol is currently legal and relatively easy to find, the issue of alcohol consumption is a touchstone for endless “what if” hypothesizing. Yet, Prohibition happened not in any of those countries but in America, with large majorities in the Senate and House of Representatives as well as 46 of 48 states backing the 18th Amendment (of course, banning alcohol in the U.S. wasn’t justified on primarily scriptural grounds, while in Muslim-majority countries, prohibition is seen as fulfilling an explicitly Quranic directive).

In other words, built-in constraints and constitutional “guarantees” aren’t enough on their own to preclude illiberal outcomes. What Americans really depend on, then, is a shared political culture and the ideas and ideals that undergird it. As James Fallows notes, “Liberal democracies like ours depend on rules but also on norms—on the assumption that you’ll go so far, but no further, to advance your political ends.” But all it apparently takes is one man with charisma and an unusually perceptive understanding of the human psyche to change that. There are norms against politicians suggesting that minorities should have special identification cards. There are norms against saying you want to kill the families of terrorists. There are norms against encouraging your supporters to use violence against their political opponents. It’s not entirely clear why you don’t do or say these things (because Trump clearly has), but you just don’t. The very fact that Trump has made such frightening comments on national television—without any corresponding “disqualification” or decline in popular support—has already undermined these longstanding norms.

The United States has had demagogues before, but they rarely make for viable presidential candidates. This is democracy’s blessing as well as its curse: that people you really don’t like—people who you think might threaten the Republic—can actually win. In the specific context of the Republican nomination, Trump opponents basically called for prioritizing good outcomes over democratic ones. They continued to search for possible paths to denying Trump the nomination, despite the fact that, barring acts of God, he was certain to win the popular vote and a plurality of delegates in the primaries.

Even if Trump reached the magic number of 1,237 delegates, which would normally settle the matter, there were those who still seemed intent on scouring the rulebooks, parliamentary procedure, and delegate details in the hope of averting disaster. Democratic norms, the thinking goes, are great in normal contexts, but sometimes the stakes are simply too high to let democratic outcomes stand. As the columnist Walter Shapiro wrote, “[W]ith the threat of the first takeover of a modern political party by an authoritarian who traffics in racism and exudes contempt for the First Amendment ... [t]here would be nothing anti-democratic about GOP leaders using every mechanism in their power to stop Trump.” Nate Silver pointed out that “technically [Republicans would] be able to deny Trump the nomination even if he had a delegate majority by changing the rules at the last minute.” They could still theoretically do something like this, even after Trump’s decisive victory in Indiana. The Republican Party is not a country, and the party can disregard the preferences of primary voters if it so chooses, but elite pacts and back-room negotiations would seem decidedly antiquated during an unusually populist moment in American politics.

[T]here will no doubt be a temptation to defy or otherwise undermine a democratically elected Trump.

This particular debate in some ways mirrors arguments over the tensions between democracy and liberalism, a debate that will only intensify if Trump gains ground on Hillary Clinton in the coming months. It is probably time to err on the side of imagination, since party elites and pundits failed to imagine the unthinkable once already. What if Trump actually wins the presidency? How would we as Americans deal with an outcome that at least some of us see as a potential danger to our Constitution as well as our livelihoods?

If Donald Trump wins, he would have, whether we liked it or not, a democratic mandate. Once in power, he might moderate his rhetoric and policies (yet another data point in the debate over the “inclusion-moderation hypothesis”), rendering at least some of this discussion moot. Yet it’s also possible that, facing a growing terrorist threat and a sputtering economy, more and more Americans might, like their newly elected president, dispense with the norms of reasonable conduct and support extreme measures. Still, a President Trump would be a legitimate president, having been freely and fairly elected by enough Americans. He would be, as much as it pains me to say it, our president. Still, there will no doubt be a temptation to defy or otherwise undermine a democratically elected Trump. For those of us who study the Middle East, the idea of not respecting democratic outcomes is business as usual, but I never thought it would be up for debate in the United States.

* * *

“Deep state” is a phrase that’s used to describe the constellation of autonomous and self-perpetuating institutions, namely the judiciary, military, and security services, which operate outside the glare of the public and are immune to the electorate’s whims. This deep state, acting as the guardian of national identity, puts limits on what elected politicians can hope to accomplish. The deep state was responsible for four coups in Turkey, the most recent of which deposed the country’s first-ever democratically elected Islamist prime minister in 1997.

It would be difficult for Americans to think about their own government—or “regime”—in such terms. The U.S. military is subject to civilian control, while Supreme Court justices, though unelected and appointed to life terms, are nominated by the president and confirmed by the Senate. It is possible, however, to imagine a president so reckless as to activate state institutions against him or her, in a way that makes the notion of an American deep state more meaningful and relevant.

Former CIA Director Michael Hayden ignited some speculative debate when he said that the military “would refuse to act” if ordered by a President Trump to take actions that were clearly illegal, such as killing the families of terrorists. Moreover, he said, military commanders are “required not to follow an unlawful order.” Even short of flagrant illegality, the military can still do what it’s done, at times, with nearly every sitting president. Peter Feaver, a leading expert on civil-military relations, notes that “the historical record is replete with cases of the military shirking—withholding information and options, slow-rolling, end-runs to Congress and the media, inflating cost estimates, etc.—to thwart civilian policies they deem to be unwise.” Considering, however, that Trump would likely be more “unwise” than most past presidents, such tensions could intensify well beyond what America’s political system is accustomed to.

"[C]oup”...is not a word that Americans should ever get used to hearing in everyday political discourse.

One can also easily imagine left-of-center (and right-of-center) civil servants in the Departments of State and Defense working against the president from within to mitigate his effectiveness and even his authority. This would be good, insofar as Americans wouldn’t want their president doing things that were crazy, illegal, or both. But it would still raise difficult questions about democratic legitimacy and how far an elected president can pursue his preferred policies, especially when it comes to issues that aren’t clear-cut. If the military refused to obey orders, however justified their refusal, then it could very well erode norms against military intervention in domestic politics. In response to Hayden’s comments, host Bill Maher joked that the former CIA director was floating “a coup.” This is not a word that Americans should ever get used to hearing in everyday political discourse. The norm against “coups” is a powerful one, which explains why American analysts (if not the U.S. government) are generally uncomfortable with military coups in foreign countries. No one teaches us that military coups are bad. Rather, it’s something we absorb in the process of being American. It goes without saying, so it’s rarely said.

Recently, a few friends (who work on Middle East issues) and I had an interesting although ultimately frightening conversation, as Trump extended his delegate lead over Ted Cruz. Sometimes it’s useful to game out worst-case scenarios, however unlikely they might seem. We tried imagining a dystopian future and came up with internment camps, (threats of) military coups, and pro-Trump militias. Soon enough, the last didn’t seem nearly so farfetched, with volunteers offering to provide security at Trump rallies (for Trump supporters).

* * *

It is hard to imagine such things because, despite a long, low-intensity war on terrorism, America hasn’t faced a large-scale terrorist attack on the homeland since September 11, 2001. Democratic systems produce self-perpetuating norms, because they are accountable to a voting public. It’s this very responsiveness, though, that can be a source of vulnerability, if enough citizens, in the grip of fear, decide to prioritize “security” over liberty. As the legal scholar Christopher Kutz writes in the suggestively titled article “How Norms Die,” democracy can be “at the same time both fertile and toxic: fertile as a source of humanitarian values and institutions, but toxic to the very institutions it cultivates.”

This is something we can measure. As Daniel Bush observed, after analyzing Pew survey data from 2002 to 2014: “During each campaign season, respondents reported having a higher negative impression of Muslim Americans than in non-election years.” This is a bit more mild than the link between elections and religious riots in India. As the historian of religions Michael Cook notes, “There is no doubt that Hindu nationalist politicians believe that communal riots can get out the Hindu vote for them. ... Under the right conditions the communal riot is a winning [electoral] strategy.”

Norm shifting of an even more dangerous kind than India’s can happen rather quickly in countries where democracy is not yet consolidated. For example, millions of Egyptians who demanded freedom and democracy in 2011 turned seemingly against it in less than two and half years, supporting not just a return to authoritarian rule but the August 14, 2013 massacre of more than 800 protesters—what Human Rights Watch calls the “worst mass killing in [Egypt’s] modern history.”

The kinds of shifts that occur in established democracies are less nefarious, but they can happen just the same. Torture is a good example. Kutz calls the spread of global norms against torture “one of the most impressive successes of the post-war period.” Yet, in the United States, these norms began to erode after the attacks of September 11th. Soon enough, torture—or what some were now euphemistically calling “enhanced interrogation”—came to enjoy broad support among the American public. The lesson again is clear. However strong they may first appear, norms, particularly those relating to national security, are more fragile than we might like to think. Once their sanctity is undermined by authority figures (whether presidents or presidential candidates), others can judge that what was once considered shameful is now not just socially tolerated but also necessary, good, and just. This is why “political correctness”—even if it seems irritating and is sometimes abused to restrict reasonable debate—still represents a public good: It makes us think twice about saying things that might contribute to the erosion of liberal and democratic norms.

[N]orms, particularly those relating to national security, are more fragile than we might like to think.

We have now reached a point where current or former presidential candidates from both parties have flirted with the idea of internment camps (former Democratic candidate Wesley Clark has called for “segregating” radicalized Muslims who are “disloyal to the United States”). In a series of incidents that have received less attention, a Tennessee State Representative called for using state institutions, in this case the National Guard, to “round up” Syrian refugees. Meanwhile, the mayor of Roanoke, Virginia, called for suspending assistance to refugees, but went further in an official statement on government letterhead. “I’m reminded,” he wrote, “that President Franklin D. Roosevelt felt compelled to sequester Japanese foreign nationals after the bombing of Pearl Harbor, and it appears that the threat of harm to America from ISIS now is just as real and serious as that from our enemies then.”

No less than Supreme Court justice Antonin Scalia believed that it could happen here. On this, he is on strong ground, since it has, of course, already happened. In 1944, the Supreme Court upheld Roosevelt’s internment of Japanese-Americans in Korematsu v. United States. While Scalia said that the decision was “wrong,” he also issued a warning in his blunt style: “You are kidding yourself if you think the same thing will not happen again.”

The norm against internment has been undermined, even though Americans do not face anything close to the threat presented by the Nazis and Japan during World War II. Which raises the question of what a plurality, or even a majority, of Americans might be willing to support if they had to confront a threat that was truly existential. We Americans are not, today, at war, at least not in the normal sense. I hope to God that we never will be again. But we might be. And this is where Scalia’s words that day were perhaps most chilling, in part because he was right. Evoking the Latin expression inter arma enim silent leges, he reminded the audience that “in times of war, the laws fall silent.” All we will have then are the things we still believe in—our norms. But, by then, they might not be enough.

      

The Roosevelt House Public Policy Institute hosted a forum with Ted Piccone and Ambassadors Hardeep Singh Puri and Antonio de Aguiar Patriota as they discussed his new book, Five Rising Democracies and the Fate of the International Liberal Order.

While the spread of democracy over the last three decades has inspired hope for an international liberal order, recent shifting power balances and democratic backsliding are shaking this foundation. In his new book, Brookings Institution Senior Fellow Ted Piccone discusses how five pivotal countries—India, Brazil, South Africa, Turkey, and Indonesia—could play a critical role as examples and supporters of liberal ideas and practices. 

Mr. Piccone, Hardeep Singh Puri, former Ambassador of India to the U.N. and Secretary General of the Independent Commission on Multilateralism, and Antonio de Aguiar Patriota, Ambassador of Brazil to the U.N. and former Minister of External Relations, discuss the ways in which these countries stand out for their embrace of globalization and liberal norms on their own terms—and how, in a multipolar world, they may impact our shared future.

      

The only interlocutor for the United States in Turkey will be President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan from now on, Professor Kemal Kirişci has said, adding that Washington has come to recognize the reality that whoever becomes the prime minister “knows he is not going to do anything that is unauthorized.”

The U.S. has lost its hopes regarding Turkish democracy, according to Kirişci, who is at the Washington-based Brookings Institute.

Prior to President Erdoğan’s visit, there were a record number of articles saying he would not receive a warm welcome in Washington, let alone a meeting with U.S. President Barack Obama. Yet Erdoğan ended up in the White House for a long meeting.

I was able to observe both of his visits in May 2013, and the one that took place last March. The difference is day and night. In 2013 the U.S. administration was bending over backwards to welcome Erdoğan, and he was hosted very lavishly.

The last visit was also preceded by the article of Jeff Goldberg, where there was a reference to how disappointed Obama was with his relationship with Erdoğan. I think that the appointment was given because Turkey and the president of Turkey is very central and critical to the fight against the Islamic State of Iraq and the Levant (ISIL). This is the only reason why this appointment was given; this is my reading.

The meeting took place despite Obama’s disillusionment with Erdoğan. Does that mean that Turkey is indispensable, regardless of rules Turkey? Or is Erdoğan not expendable?

Both. The term that is being used in Washington for the U.S. relationship with Turkey is “transactional,” meaning wherever we have common interests and common concerns, we are going to try to cooperate. The idea of a model partnership based on shared liberal values is no longer an issue; the cooperation is out of necessity.

Was there ever a Davutoğlu effect in bilateral relations, since he was one of the figures shaping foreign policy?

Starting in September 2015, Davutoğlu projected the image of a pragmatic person wanting to address a problem. The way in which he handled the European migration crisis was assessed as something positive compared to the rhetoric the president uses where he is constantly criticizing and using contemptuous – almost denigrating – language toward Europe but also the U.S. I suspect that Davutoğlu was offered an audience with Obama [shortly after his meeting with Erdoğan] because of this.

How do you think Washington will see his departure?

At the micro level, they thought that there was room for a pragmatic, solution-oriented relationship with Davutoğlu. But in the course of the last year or two, they had also come to realize that Davutoğlu’s foreign policy based around his book “Strategic Depth” was producing conflict between Turkey and the U.S. – the conflict areas being Syria, ISIL, Egypt, Israel and Iraq. 

Do you think there will be any changes in relations with Davutoğlu’s departure?

I think there is a recognition in Turkey, Europe, the U.S. and the rest of the world that from today onward, Turkey’s foreign policy will be run by the president. The notion that Turkey is a parliamentary system and the president is supposed to be equidistant from political parties does not reflect reality. The U.S., with this experience behind them, has come to recognize this reality. Whoever becomes the PM, they know he is not going to do anything that is unauthorized. The consequence is that Turkey-U.S. relations will not be where they were when Erdoğan first came to power; that’s how I can answer the question because it is comparative. At that time, in addition to Syria, trade, the economy and Turkey’s relations with the EU were also on the agenda.

These issues will no longer be on the agenda; there will be only one issue: the Syrian issue. [But another will be how will] NATO manage the challenges that Russia is bringing to European security? I think there is some room for interaction there.

Has the U.S. given up on Turkey as a reliable ally sharing the same values? 

It is sad but that is the reality. Turkey’s agenda today in the neighborhood is not an agenda that overlaps with the Western transatlantic community’s agenda. There is a lot of aggravation that emerges from that reality. For the U.S., the issue of ISIL is regarded as the major challenge emanating from the Middle East to U.S. and European security. I think they have reached a conclusion that cooperating with Turkey is an uphill battle. They also recognized Turkey and the U.S. have conflicting interests with respect to the PYD [Democratic Union Party]. Turkey considers it a threat to national security whereas the U.S. sees the PYD as an actor with which they are able to cooperate against ISIL in a decisive, reliable and credible manner. In the case of Turkey, there is cooperation but there are question marks over the reliability and credibility and commitment of Turkey.

Why are you using the word sad?

It is sad from a personal point of view because when you look at the world right now, it looks like there are two governance system competing with each other. One governance system is the system to which I thought Turkey was always committed. We became a member of NATO, Council of Europe and the OECD. We aspire to become part of the EU because I suppose we believed the values of members of this community provides more prosperity, stability and security to its citizens. Then there is an alternative form of governance represented by Russia, Iran and China [based on] the idea that the state should have a greater say on the economy, the state interest should prevail over the interests and the rights of individuals and that freedom of expression and media can be curtailed to serve state interests. Turkey is increasingly moving in the direction of this second form of governance.

Why, then, did Brookings invite Erdoğan, producing embarrassing moments when the president’s security detailed interfered with demonstrators?

Brookings has a long-established program called the Global Leaders Forum and invites presidents and prime ministers to give speeches. It is an independent think tank and does not confer legitimacy or illegitimacy on a speaker. The Washington audience got an opportunity to see how Turkey is being governed.

It looks like the U.S. remains indifferent to democratic backpedalling in Turkey.

There was a time at meetings on Turkey in which questions were raised along the lines of, “Why isn’t the U.S. doing more against this backsliding?” Interestingly, in the course of about six months or so, this question is being raised less and less. The U.S. has lost hopes about Turkish democracy. The primary reason for this is that they have this impression that Turkish society, especially after what happened after the June [2015] elections, gives priority to this kind of governance. Also, the Obama administration, especially compared to the Bush and Clinton administrations, is less comfortable with the idea of promoting democracy and supporting democratization.

The interview was originally published in Hürriyet Daily News.

      

On 15 May the Dominican Republic held its most complex elections since 1994. On this occasion, not only were the president and vice president elected, but also all the members of the lower house, the Chamber of Deputies, and the Senate, as well as local authorities.

There were no surprises. Danilo Medina, of the governing Partido de la Liberación Dominicana (PLD), was re-elected by a large margin, and all indications are that he was also able to conserve his party’s majority in both houses of Congress. We say “all indications are” because the election was beset by irregularities (well-documented by the OAS observer mission); and these irregularities have triggered a serious post-electoral crisis that has yet to be fully resolved.

Medina’s re-election confirms the infallibility of the rule (in place in Latin America since 1978) that every president who reforms the Constitution to keep himself in power has achieved his objective. The only exception was Hipólito Mejía, former president of the Dominican Republic, who amended the Constitution in 2002 to seek a second term, but then failed to get re-elected. This defeat opened the door for the return of Leonel Fernández (also of the PLD), who had already governed from 1996 to 2000, and who won the 2004 election and then (benefitting from Mejía’s reform) got himself re-elected in 2008. Once in office, Fernández reformed the Constitution in 2010 (moving from allowing consecutive re-election to allowing unlimited re-election but with alternating rather than consecutive terms). President Medina amended the Constitution once again, in 2015, on an expeditious basis (within 15 days) to re-enact consecutive re-election and to run again in the elections just held on 15 May. No other country in Latin America has amended the constitutional provision on re-election so many times in such a short period, four times in 21 years. 

Continuity of the PLD for the fourth consecutive term 

With this clear-cut triumph by Medina (he garnered 61.74 per cent of the votes, leading the second-place challenger Luis Abinader, of the recently-formed Partido Revolucionario Moderno (PRM), by more than 25 points), the PLD has now won the presidency for the fourth time in a row, with a total (at the end of this new term) of 16 years in power without interruption. Never before under democratic rules of the game had the same party won four times in a row in the Dominican Republic. 

If we exclude the special cases of the PRI in Mexico (prior to 2000) and the Partido Colorado (in Paraguay), from 1978 to date only four parties or coalitions have won four consecutive presidential contests in the region: Chavismo in Venezuela, which has been in power for 17 years (now in the midst of a profound crisis that could lead to Maduro’s early exit); Brazil’s Workers’ Party (PT), which so far (we’ll see what comes of the trial of Rousseff by the Senate that is about to get under way) has been in power for 13 years; ARENA in El Salvador (which governed without interruption from 1989 to 2009 with presidents Cristiani, Sol, Flores, and Saca); and the Concertación in Chile (from 1990 to 2010, with presidents Aylwin, Frey, Lagos, and Bachelet in her first term). 

Reasons for the victory

What are the reasons that explain Medina’s landslide victory after three consecutive terms of the PLD in office?

In my opinion, a combination of personal, political, and socioeconomic reasons explain this outcome. As to the personal reason, one should highlight the great popularity of President Medina. With approval ratings greater than 70 per cent, he enjoys high levels of popular support, much more than any other Latin American president.

In terms of the political reasons, one should note the advantage that any Latin American president has when seeking consecutive re-election: the enormous concentration of power by the PLD in all areas of the State, accentuated political clientelism, and above all, an opposition that has not figured out a strategy for removing the PLD from power. Mention should also be made of the marked lack of fairness in the electoral contest and the abusive use of state resources in favor of the governing party.

The third important reason that explains Medina’s easy re-election is to be found in the economy. With 7 per cent growth and inflation at 2.5 per cent, the Dominican Republic is one of the two best-performing economies in the region (the other is Panama). This growth stands in stark contrast to a Latin America which (according to World Bank projections) will see negative growth of -0.6 per cent this year. It is also more than 2 percentage points greater than the average growth rate for the countries of Central America.

Challenges

Yet Medina’s second term, despite the strong support he received at the polls, is not problem-free. On the contrary, he faces major challenges, including having the results of the 15 May elections accepted by the opposition so that his legitimacy and, above all, that of the PLD legislators and mayors, will not be called into question.

Improving the quality of democracy is another major challenge. The Dominican Republic is part of the group of countries (according to The Economist) that has a flawed democracy, characterized by marked institutional weakness and high levels of citizen insecurity and corruption. 

Moreover, profound and urgent changes are needed in the political–electoral system aimed at improving the quality and integrity of the electoral process to avoid having to suffer similar problems in future elections. 

In the electoral sphere, the OAS report recommends that it is important to separate voting for members of the lower house from voting for senators. It is also important to provide for fairer electoral competition. This requires adequate regulation of the use of state resources (to keep the party in power from enjoying unfair advantages), strengthening the levels of transparency, oversight, control of political financing (establishing, among other measures, ceilings for campaign spending and limits on private financing), as well as assuring more equal access to the media. 

As regards the political system, the priority includes introducing thorough changes in the party system aimed at modernizing the parties, institutionalizing them and improving their levels of internal democracy. Another priority is ensuring effective gender parity in politics. 

These political–electoral changes need to be supplemented by adequate modernization and strengthening of the electoral organs (JCE - Central Elections Board and the TSE - Superior Electoral Tribunal), ensuring that they are made up of very qualified professionals of renowned prestige, who are totally independent of the political parties. In the area of the economy, despite the current positive macroeconomic outlook, the situation is far from ideal. 40 per cent of the population lives in poverty due to the economy’s serious difficulty generating quality employment (due to its growth model). To this we must add the need to solve the main limitation that the economy has faced for some time, i.e., scarce energy and high energy prices. 

In my opinion, this fourth consecutive victory consolidates the PLD as the predominant party in the Dominican political system (with the risk of becoming a hegemonic party). The PRD, which until recently was the main opposition party under the now-deceased Peña Gómez, weakened by its constant internal strife and divisions, ended up allying with the PLD in this election and won just over 5 per cent of the votes. The other major historical party, the PRSC, of deceased former president Joaquín Balaguer (which allied with the PRM in this election) also obtained few votes; its numbers similar to the PRD’s. The big question is what will happen in the coming years with the recently formed PRM and the leadership of Abinader, in particular, if both he and the party will be able to become consolidated as the main opposition force. 

One will also have to see whether Medina and the PLD have the capacity to steer clear of the attrition and crisis that generally affects “long governments” under a single party or coalition in the region, especially during the curse of the second consecutive term. Of the four “long governments” mentioned above, two, the PT in Brazil and chavismo in Venezuela, are currently experiencing serious crises that could lead to an early end of the terms of presidents Dilma Rousseff and Nicolás Maduro. 

In summary, during his second term Medina should implement an ambitious agenda of reforms. In politics, the priority includes modernizing and strengthening democratic institutions, adopting a law on political parties, and transforming the judiciary and the police to fight insecurity and corruption head on. In economic and social policy, the focus should be on maintaining high growth rates but correcting the serious prevailing inequalities and distortions with the objective of creating quality jobs and thereby reducing the high levels of poverty.

This piece was originally published by International IDEA. 

      

A central function of the United States Congress is oversight of the executive branch. Congressional oversight, as exercised from the beginning of the nation, is an essential tool in making the separation of powers real by empowering Congress to check the executive. In recent years, however, as polarization has reached paralyzing levels, Congress has largely gotten out of the business of routine and prospective “police-patrol” oversight.  In the absence of the will and the capacity to do prospective oversight, Congress is at risk of losing its power to the executive branch and thus failing one of its most important constitutional roles.

This paper assesses whether or not anything can be done to get Congress back into the oversight business. Specifically, author Elaine Kamarck examines the following question: Assuming that future Congresses develop the political will to conduct oversight, do they have the capacity to do oversight of a large, modern, and complex executive branch?

As Kamarck illustrates, mismatched resources may make it difficult for Congress to resume its oversight function. The modern federal government is a complex and enormous enterprise. But as the executive branch has grown considerably over the past decades, Congress has adopted budget cuts that make the legislative branch less and less capable of undertaking the kinds of systemic oversight that can solve or prevent problems. Congress employs a mere 17,272 professional staff to oversee an executive branch consisting of 4.2 million civil servants and uniformed military. 

“The existing infrastructure that is supposed to help Congress be on top of the executive branch has fallen prey to a mindless dumbing down of Congress,” Kamarck states. She details the five entities that are meant to support Congress in its oversight role: committee staff, the Congressional Research Service, the Government Accountability Office, the Congressional Budget Office, and the Inspectors General, all of which are understaffed and under-budgeted. Kamarck recommends the first thing Congress should do to fix its oversight problem is to properly staff the agencies it already has and to stop nickel and diming and degrading its own capacity.

Furthermore, Kamarck calls for a “Congressional Oversight Office,” a body charged with evaluating governmental performance before a crisis arises. This office should be staffed by implementation professionals who can gather the signals from all the other oversight organizations annually and in sync with the budget cycle.

“Congress needs to get back into the business of productive executive branch oversight,” concludes Kamarck. A Congressional Oversight Office is certainly a step in that direction.

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Recent political movements within the United States have raised concerns about the health of American democracy. With hyper-partisanship dividing the country and Donald Trump—the most unlikely, unsuitable, and unpopular presidential nominee of a major party in American history—securing the Republican nomination, the question emerges of whether democracy in America has gone awry.  And if so, is it too much or too little democracy that’s to blame?

To help address those questions, in this paper, Thomas E. Mann summarizes and discusses the findings of Christopher Achen and Larry Bartels’ ambitious treatise on American democracy: “Democracy for Realists.” Achen and Bartels contend that the traditional conception of voters as rational, attentive decision-makers does not hold against empirical evidence. Instead, voters are best understood as members of partisan groups, which influence their perception of candidates, issues, and even simple facts. According to Achen and Bartels, perceived social identities drive voting decisions, rather than rationality.

Mann notes that most scholars would agree that voters do not follow the expectations of idealistic models, but draws attention to competing theories that are far less damning to voters’ rationality. In particular, the research of Paul Sniderman and Arthur Lupia suggests that voters are far more capable than Achen and Bartels would assert. In their view, voters have enough rationality and information to ensure a well-functioning democracy.

As Mann summarizes the arguments:  Achen and Bartels believe that citizens and elections are held to impossible, idealistic standards in the folk theory of democracy, which perpetuates myths and works against government responsiveness. Sniderman and Lupia, on the other hand, are offended by those who dismiss citizens as ignorant and incompetent; they seek to defend voters’ dignity and demonstrate the rationality and efficacy of their behavior in American democracy.

What does this scholarship tell us about the coming presidential election, and the future of American democracy?  Ultimately, Mann concludes that Achen and Bartel’s perspective is not anti-democratic, even if it is built on a belief that too much importance is placed on the often random and myopic outcomes of elections.  Instead, Mann believes that “Democracy for Realists” reveals the real democratic deficit facing America is one stemming not from too much democracy, but  from “asymmetry in political resources and representation of different segments of American society.” Truly understanding this problem and its root cause is a step toward strengthening American democracy. 

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