Arabs Can’t Blame America for All the World’s Problems. By Hussein Ibish.
Arabs can’t blame America for all the world’s problems. By Hussein Ibish. The National (UAE), August 11, 2013.
Ibish:
Anti-Americanism,
a ubiquitous feature of contemporary Arab political culture, arises from an
insidious and deeply- ingrained concept: the myth of American omnipotence.
Thus
the will of the United States becomes the default explanation for everything
that happens in the Middle East, particularly when people don't like it.
America
the omnipotent occupies a unique position in the moral economy of contemporary
Arab political thought: it is always blamed for whatever people don’t like, but
rarely gets credit for anything that most in the Arab world find good.
Recent
events in Egypt are only the most striking and current demonstrations of this
very long-standing pattern.
Supporters
of the former Egyptian president, Mohammed Morsi, are convinced that the United
States was directly responsible for his removal from office.
But his
opponents believe, perhaps even more strongly, that Washington had put Mr Morsi
into power and wanted to keep him there.
The
Egyptian media has been full of the most bizarre theories, from both sides,
about various supposed conspiracies hatched by US Ambassador to Egypt Anne
Patterson.
Virtually
the only thing Egyptians now agree upon is that whatever it is they don’t like,
it must be the fault of the United States.
The
same kind of assumptions apply in Syria. Last year I took part in a televised
debate, on an Arabic TV outlet, along with three Syrians.
The
first, a Salafist, argued that the Americans wanted to keep the Syrian
president, Bashar Al Assad, in power, and that this was at the behest of
Israel, because the Israelis feared the “Islamic Awakening.”
The
second, a nationalist, agreed that the US did indeed want Mr Al Assad to stay
in power, but for a different reason: because he had cooperative relations with
Israel.
The
third Syrian participant in the broadcast, a regime stooge, insisted on the
contrary that there was an American plot to overthrow Mr. Al Assad, because he
was the leader of “resistance” against Israel.
But how
did it happen that the United States has become this “great Satan” that is said
to deserve, and that gets, the blame for all bad things?
Like
western Islamophobia, the pervasive anti-Americanism we see has been fuelled by
centuries of rivalry between Muslims and the Christian West. Arabs feel, and
for good reason, that they have in many ways been mistreated by the colonialist
powers.
Further,
decades of nationalistic, religious, xenophobic and chauvinistic propaganda
have entrenched anti-American narratives. After all, since the 1950s, the US
has been the primary regional power in the Middle East and has acted like it,
with all the regional resentment that naturally follows.
But the
underlying, latent theme actually seems to be a profound sense of unrequited
love.
Of
course anti-Americanism is consciously and cynically abused in much Arab
political rhetoric. But it’s so pervasive and visceral that it most closely
resembles the rage of a jilted romantic partner.
Why is
America so inexplicably biased towards Israel? Why are their policies always so
unfair? Since America is omnipotent, and bad things keep happening, why does
the US do them?
Yet
while Arabs rail against the United States, they indisputably love its culture
and products. They fight for visas, and to send their children to US
universities. Even Islamists like Mr Morsi studied and taught in California.
Arab
sensibilities about international relations are defined by a profound sense of
disempowerment, which is even stronger when contrasted with the illusion of
American omnipotence. These fantasies feed each other in a neurotic vicious
circle.
Even as
American influence around the world is palpably waning, absurdities – such as
the idea that the recent abdication of the Emir of Qatar was, for some reason, “ordered”
by Washington – remain common.
Things
look radically different from DC, where a new and uncharacteristic sense of
helplessness has taken root in the aftermath of the Iraq fiasco, the Afghan
failure and the fiscal calamity.
Washington
looks at Syria and incorrectly sees no good options. It thinks that it has
virtually no influence in Egypt. Even in its most familiar territory, the
Israeli-Palestinian peace process, US policymakers feel that they are at the
mercy of the domestic politics and caprices of Tel Aviv and Ramallah.
The new
US feeling of impotence, or at least risk-aversion, is just as exaggerated as
are Arab delusions about US omnipotence. There is much the US can do to help
its friends in the Arab world, if only it would. But there is a persistent,
crippling reticence to support those who share American goals or values,
particularly if they are not fully trusted by Israel.
Arab
anti-Americanism rests on two pillars: disillusionment and perceived betrayal
by an ideal, combined with a wild overestimation of US power. Arabs therefore
oscillate between yearning for American leadership and resenting American
clout.
Contrast
the ubiquitous negative Arab sentiments towards the United States with the Arab
world's almost total lack of interest in the role of Russia. Yet if there is an
external power up to no good in the Middle East, it is Russia. Its support for
the Syrian dictatorship has helped kill at least 100,000 people in the past two
and a half years.
But
there is no unrequited love affair with Russia, and so no sense of betrayal, no
feeling of an abandoned ideal or a love-hate neurosis. That Russia does what’s
in its interest is simply accepted with a shrug. The dearth of outrage about
Russia’s Syrian role, and of conspiracy theories about the Kremlin’s
machinations, reveals Arab anti-Americanism to be a collective neurotic
symptom, fundamentally disconnected from reality.