What the Helsinki-Middle East Analogy
Should Say to U.S. Policymakers
April 28, 2004
By Craig Dunkerley
The general notion of "a Helsinki model for the Middle
East" has become a new catch phrase, easily cast out in
any debate over U.S. intentions in the region. As it
has come to be associated with discussion of the
Administration's interest in launching a Greater Middle
East Initiative (GMEI) as part of its 2004 summit
schedule, the ebb and flow of “Helsinki's” invocation
suggests its own cautionary lessons for the states and
societies of the Middle East. But these would be
insights for a far longer-term and sustained diplomatic
effort than American political calendars usually allow
for – a broad strategy not just for the next few months
but the coming decade and beyond.
The basic idea is
not a new one: to seek to apply among the countries of the Middle East
positive examples drawn from the political process launched in Europe by the
Helsinki Final Act and eventually resulting in the Organization for Security
and Cooperation in Europe (OSCE). Signed largely as a détente set piece in
1975, the Final Act came to serve as a statement of basic principles for
Europe as a whole. These were to
govern not only how the states of a then still-divided Europe ought to deal
with each other – respecting existing borders and foreswearing the threat or
use of force, but no less importantly, how their governments should treat
their respective citizens on the basis of fundamental freedoms and human
rights.
It has been the
policy emphasis on democratic and economic reform throughout the region,
signaled by the President's address to the National Endowment for Democracy
in November of last year and reiterated as a "Forward Strategy for Freedom"
in the latest State of the Union address, which has given the latest special
impetus to the Helsinki-Mideast analogy. The Helsinki reference appeared in
initial backgrounding on the Administration's GMEI, itself built upon the
previous year's Middle East Partnership Initiative (MEPI). It was readily
picked up as a convenient descriptive tag line among journalists. Despite
the subsequent effort of American spokesmen to avoid such labels and to
suggest a more nuanced picture, the notion of a Helsinki model is now
well-established in public commentary, both here and abroad.
The Helsinki process
succeeded because its agenda of "regional security and cooperation" was
deliberately cast in terms broad enough to reflect issues seen as important
in various ways for almost all of its participants, both in East and West.
Helsinki proved to be flexible enough to evolve dramatically in both its
rationale and its structure as political circumstances and expectations
changed with time. It succeeded because, although the U.S. came to be one
of its strongest supporters and to exercise great influence in all of the
OSCE's activities, the process has not borne the exclusive fingerprints of
any one country. Throughout the years, Helsinki has been able to convey
credibly the sense of a much wider community of stakeholders to be found
throughout its area of coverage.
Today, there are an
increasing number of voices throughout the Middle East which, in varying
ways, speak of political, economic and social reform as both necessary and
urgent. But in marked contrast with the Helsinki experience, development of
any comparable regional community of supporters of American objectives in
this direction will be complicated by a perceived lack of American
credibility – even legitimacy – on these very issues. This may represent the
most critical challenge for any long-term American strategy on behalf of
reform in the region, let alone any new high-profile initiatives.
American diplomatic
efforts to promote reform from within the Middle East will not be judged
solely on their own merits. Frustration over a lack of progress towards a
meaningful resolution of the Iraeli-Palestinian conflict and a viable
Palestinian state, and a widespread perception throughout the region of a
persistent U.S.
policy imbalance in favor of
Israel, will inevitably color any local debate over U.S. motives in pressing
reform.
Nor will any such
efforts be seen in isolation from the effectiveness of continued American
engagement in Iraq. At its potential worst – increasing violence,
political conflict and a stalemated transitional authority – the Iraqi
situation would provide other regimes with yet further reason to resist the
uncertainties which greater liberalization might engender. Even a far more
optimistic prospect – a more secure and prospering Iraq able to demonstrate
a new definition of political legitimacy and pluralism to the region – might
have unexpected implications for its neighbors, especially given
longstanding sensitivities between Sunni and Shiite within these societies.
The very complexity
and unpredictability of such outcomes will pose new challenges for American
policymakers. In considering how to stabilize and strengthen a rapidly
changing strategic environment, even as the U.S. moves to a new force
posture within the region and wrestles with the task of deterring and
dissuading Iranian nuclear ambitions, they may well need to think beyond
traditional solutions.
Deterring future
threats within the Gulf, for example, will depend in the first instance on
regional diplomatic and defense efforts in which a continued U.S. role will
likely prove critical. But we also might take a page from Helsinki's book
to complement these efforts with expanded dialogue and cooperative
mechanisms designed to promote greater military transparency and
predictability and reciprocal reassurance in the face of long-standing
differences found throughout the Gulf. As various commentators have noted,
one such option would be to explore, informally at first, the beginnings of
a regional security dialogue among all of the Gulf states. Such an approach
might serve as a useful element in a comprehensive and multi-faceted
strategy for dealing with both Iran and a post-Saddam security balance
within the Gulf over the longer term.
At issue is whether
American political leaders – both of the current Administration and those
that follow – will be prepared to sustain as ambitious a goal as
"transforming" the political culture of the Middle East through more active
and consistent support for political, economic and social reform. If they
prove to be, the U.S. would be entering into a relationship with the region
far more extensive and intimate than has existed previously. It would, in
effect, represent an unprecedented effort on our part to engage in seeking
change on all levels of states and societies within this region. But such a
new relationship would also play out against the backdrop of profound
differences and controversies – perhaps a good deal more tenacious than
those between the U.S. and other regions in the past. The U.S. would not
enjoy the inherent advantages of its previous diplomatic efforts elsewhere.
And so Helsinki's
real lesson for policymakers might well be to convey a proper sense of
proportion with regard to the pace and time scale which such endeavors would
require. Neither Helsinki's history nor popular attitudes now found
throughout the region should be read to deny the importance or validity of
the strategic goal of reform and transformation. But they do suggest that,
like the slow and crabwise movement of the Helsinki process as it played out
over a number of years, our strategy would need to prepare for a timeline
measured in decades.
Craig Dunkerley,
a former Foreign Service officer with extensive OSCE experience, is
currently a Distinguished Adjunct Professor at the Near East South Asia
Center for Strategic Studies of the National Defense University. The views
expressed are his own and do not reflect those of the National Defense
University or U.S. Government.
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