The dam’s primary purpose is to generate electricity for the 70% of Ethiopia’s rural population who lack it. The dam is also meant to enrich the country through the sale of excess electricity. The giant infrastructure undertaking also serves as a rallying point for Ethiopians who see it as a way for their country to move out of poverty. 

On the other hand, Egypt and Sudan, as downstream countries, are worried that the GERD will permanently decrease the amount of water that reaches them. Egypt, which is dependent on the Nile for agriculture, hydropower and 94% of the country’s total water supply, is particularly threatened and has opposed the GERD since its conception in 2011. Ethiopia claims that the dam will help its people without harming Sudan or Egypt, while Egypt says that the GERD will short the country on the resources it needs. 

With both sides making such bold statements about the benefits and consequences  of the dam, it is difficult to determine which statements are true and what environmental impact the GERD will end up having.

This situation with the GERD is reminiscent of the controversy surrounding the Aswan High Dam, another dam on the Nile that was completed in 1970 and is located in Egypt. Similar to Ethiopia’s desire to use the electricity and profits generated by the GERD to advance as a country, the Aswan High Dam was a point of pride amongst the Egyptian people and a key factor in Egypt nationalizing the Suez Canal and taking back control of it and their country from European nations (the revenue from the canal was needed to fund the dam).

Before the construction of the Aswan High Dam, there were numerous concerns that it would end up doing more harm than good to the surrounding environment. Critics worried that the dam would lead to sedimentation in the reservoir, erosion of the coast and the land at the base of the dam, an increase in the spread of diseases and decreased soil fertility in the area.

The Aswan High Dam has been in use for over 50 years now, and according to several experts including Cecilia Tortajada, editor-in-chief of the International Journal of Water Resources Development and senior research fellow at the Institute of Water Policy, and Asit Biswas, member of the World Commission on Water and co-founder of the International Water Resources Association and the World Water Council, the benefits have thus far proven to outweigh its negative effects. The dam’s primary mission is to stabilize the flood-drought cycle of the Nile in Egypt, and from this point of view it has been an unequivocal success. Since the dam was completed, the Nile’s annual flood has not harmed human lives or agricultural land, and enough water has been stored to see Egypt through all subsequent drought years. Another positive side effect of the Aswan High Dam is that the regulation of the Nile’s flow has allowed for year-round irrigation, leading to two or three harvests per year instead of just one. Additionally, the electricity it generated was the main source of power for Egypt until recently, and a key propellant behind the country’s rapid industrialization.

The impact of the Aswan High Dam has not been entirely rosy though; it has led to an increase in the salinity of both the water and the nearby soil used for agriculture, a severe reduction in the silt that has traditionally fertilized the soil, the collapse of some river banks, and infestations of various aquatic weeds. However, the widely accepted consensus is that these side effects can be managed and are far eclipsed by the positives of the dam.

There is no way to be sure what effects the GERD will have, but estimates have been made based on the fallout from the High Aswan Dam and simulations of various scenarios, including failure of the dam and drought and flood seasons. According to Abdelkader Ahmed, a professor of environmental engineering at at Aswan University, the initial filling of the reservoir will flood existing plants in the area (which is heavily occupied by tropical shrubs), killing them off en masse and leading to a large release of carbon dioxide emissions (between one and eight million tons) as they decompose. It will also affect the spawning and migration of several fish species that may become disoriented by the changing temperatures and currents. However, since the GERD is located by Ethiopia’s border, it will likely not cause major changes to the country’s water supply or agricultural land.

Sudan is in a unique in-between position because the GERD stands to benefit the country but also puts it in harm’s way. The GERD will stabilize the flow of the Nile in Sudan and allow for agricultural production year-round (similar to the effect the High Aswan Dam had on Egypt). However, Sudan is also the country most at risk if the dam should fail. Models created by faculty at American University of Sharjah and United Arab Emirates University found that because the GERD is located in an area of Ethiopia prone to earthquakes and surrounded by steep mountains with high rates of erosion and landslides, geological activity is the most likely reason why it would fail. Regardless of the reason, if the GERD collapses, Sudan will face catastrophic damage including the flooding of almost 10,000 mi² of agricultural land and roads and the transformation of Khartoum, the country’s capital, into a lake.

The forecasted impact for Egypt is not as favorable as the other two countries. A study conducted by researchers at Zagazig University in Egypt and the Technical University of Kosice in Slovakia found that the GERD will reduce the level of both groundwater and surface water in Egypt, which would be detrimental to the agricultural output since most crops grown in the country require large amounts of water. However, if farmers switch to growing crops that use less water, the lower groundwater levels combined with less watering of the plants will increase the salinity of the soil to a level that will damage soil productivity, putting Egyptian farmers in a no-win situation. The dam also inhibits the flow of nutrient-rich sediment that has traditionally replenished downstream agricultural land, further handicapping production capabilities. This could become a serious problem if agricultural output decreases as Egypt’s population growth continues to outpace the ability of the country’s resources to to support it.

The decreased groundwater and surface water levels are concerning on their own since Egypt is already facing increasing levels of water scarcity and has one of the lowest per capita shares of water in the world. According to the United Nations, Egypt is under the water poverty threshold, and will face an “absolute water crisis” by 2025. The country is also concerned about whether Ethiopia will permit the necessary amount of water to be released from the GERD’s reservoir during drought years. Though many talks have taken place between Egypt, Ethiopia and Sudan over the GERD, no agreements have been made about protocol during droughts. For Egypt, whose water supplies are already being stretched very thin, how Ethiopia chooses to react to the next drought could be an inflection point for the country.

It is clear that though the GERD will bring many benefits for Ethiopia and Sudan, Egypt will not share in the good fortune. Regardless, the dam has already been built and the reservoir is filled partway. At this junction it is crucial for the leaders of all three countries to come together to determine how to maximize the GERD’s utility for Ethiopia and Sudan within the constraints of maintaining Egypt’s access to necessary resources. 

This 14-year long plan was announced in 2016 by Saudi Arabia’s Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman and aims to reduce Saudi Arabia’s dependency on the oil industry. This plan includes several infrastructure, education and renewable energy projects, but by far the most ambitious project within this 2030 vision is the city of Neom. 

The city of Neom is the prince’s crown jewel and he expects that it will put the country on the international stage and not only manage to be the face of sustainable development, city building and living, but also a major hub for travel, tourism and transportation. 

The city is planned to be developed in the Tabuk province, which is located in the northwest part of the country. The area borders the Red Sea to the south, Jordan to the north and the Gulf of Aqaba to the west, across from which is Egypt’s Sinai peninsula. 

Construction has already begun after Neom’s announcement at the Future Investment Initiative conference in Riyadh on October 24, 2017. Neom Bay, which includes some resorts and luxury apartments, has already begun construction. Additionally, Neom Bay Airport was inaugurated in 2019 and will serve as a temporary hub until the main airport is finished. 

The project has been estimated to cost around $500 billion dollars and set to open the first stage by 2025 with the main attraction being The Line, a city shaped in a straight line that will run 170km from the coast towards the inland desert and would take up $200 billion from the budget. The city is planned to be a fully sustainable project that would rely 100% on renewable energies to run. The project would also, according to the Saudi government, create 380,000 jobs and increase its GDP by $48 billion. 

“Why should we sacrifice nature for the sake of development?” Prince Mohammed said in the televised announcement of The Line in January. “We need to transform the concept of a conventional city into that of a futuristic one.”

According to the Saudi government, The Line would consist of three different levels. On the ground floor there would be an uninterrupted pedestrian walkway with parks. The second level would have the services, stores and other commercial spaces. And the third level would be what is being called The Spine. 

In the same announcement made by bin Salman, he mentioned that the city is being built with a future population of one million people in mind. He further stated that all of these people would be just five minutes away from any good or service they would need for their day to day lives. 

The Neom project and more recently The Line have been heavily promoted online and are widely seeking additional foreign investment to help develop the city. Several YouTube advertisements and videos as well as viral explanatory videos have been key to the growing awareness of the project abroad. 

This ambitious project, however, has also raised some questions and concerns surrounding the true intentions behind its construction, as well as the ethical aspects that surround the city building as well as the country as a whole. 

One major controversy surrounding Neom is the current and future displacement of the Al-Huwaitat tribe. With around 20,000 people facing eviction and many Al-Huwaitat advocates being killed in the past years, the project has faced international backlash from several NGOs across the world. On April 13, 2020, Abdul Rahim al-Huwaiti, one of the main advocates from the tribe, was killed by Saudi security forces in what they allege was self defence as Al-Huwaiti had fired first. Al-Huwaiti was a major critic of the Neom project, and many suspect that this could have been the reason for his death. 

“They have begun the process of removing people, beginning with surveying homes with the intent of removing people and deporting them from their land,” said Al-Huwaiti on a video recorded on the day of his death referring to the Saudi forces reaching his hometown. “They arrested anyone who said they’re against deportation, they don’t want to leave, they want to remain [in]their homes, that they don’t want money.”

Despite highlighting on the promotional website that the city will be built on “virgin land,” the testimonies from local tribes say otherwise. This is one of the major controversies that the Neom project faces, but with the recent announcement of The Line it seems like the Saudi government will continue the city’s development. 

This project is also very important for Saudi Arabia, not only due to its potential revenue in tourism and investment, but it will also allow for Saudi Arabia to assume strategic control of trade and transit within the region and beyond. 

The area where Neom will be developed is adjacent to the Strait of Tiran, where the Saudi administered islands of Tiran and Sanafir lie just off Egypt’s beach resort city Sharm El Sheikh on the Sinai peninsula. Alongside the plan to build the city, there is a plan to build a bridge connecting both countries by land. 

This bridge would completely change the way the region works as transporting goods through land from Egypt to Saudi Arabia would become possible, completely bypassing the current need to go through Israel. The bridge would also give Saudi Arabia control over the Strait as well, which could potentially increase the country’s influence over Asian exports to Israel. 

This would also help Saudi Arabia become one of the main hubs for travel and transportation, although the development would face fierce competition from neighbouring Qatar and the United Arab Emirates, two countries which have established themselves as powerhouses in the aviation industry with their major airlines Qatar Airways and Emirates respectively. 

The government wants to incentivise investors by establishing Neom as a free trade zone with its own tax and legal system, the latter supposedly being structured around more open and progressive ideals. This contrasts the strict Sharia law that prevails within the rest of the country which has been criticized for numerous human rights violations. This is something similar to what the UAE has already done with Dubai since 2006, where the Emirati government established an international court system to better appeal to the international investors. 

The project as a whole is Prince bin Salman’s attempt at creating a place that can serve as a major source of revenue and international influence for the Saudi government, and which can put the country on the international stage to not only help diversify the economy, but to also extend the reach of the Saudi influence within the global community. 

The positive, progressive and innovative prospects that the city is set to have, however, must be looked at through a critical lens, as the Crown Prince has proved that he may disregard locals or other people that stand in the way of his projects, even when they are within their right to protest the development. 

It remains to be seen if the Saudi government is up to the task of constructing this massive and ambitious project, and if they will be able to deliver on all of their sustainability promises while bettering their efforts to secure an ethical development. 

Stateless people are those without a nationality — people who are not recognized by any country in the world, even the one they live in. They often lack access to basic rights including healthcare, employment, education and political participation in the country they live in. Without citizenship, stateless people are unable to attend public schools and gain equal access to education, take advantage of subsidized medical costs, or meet work permit requirements. Essentially, stateless individuals are locked into a cycle of poverty.  

A 2013 report by the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees formally identified 60 stateless people in Egypt, but acknowledged that it was unable to report accurate numbers, as they can only include those who come to the UNHCR office for aid. UNHCR found that there are actually hundreds of thousands of stateless people in the country. Many of these people are stateless because they are refugees (and so considered de facto stateless by the UN) or don’t qualify for citizenship under Egypt’s strict nationality laws. In Egypt, citizenship is passed down only through males; even children born in Egypt to Egyptian mothers and non-Egyptian fathers are not given citizenship. 

However, the majority of stateless people come from territory on the edges of Egypt’s borders, land that has been claimed or occupied by two or more countries. Most of them are tribespeople who have lived in the same area for generations, but are suffering from disputes between countries, particularly in the Hala’ib Triangle (claimed by both Egypt and Sudan) and Sinai (occupied by Israel until 1982). The Egyptian government assured them citizenship decades ago, but for most, this promise has remained unfulfilled.

In the last few years, the stateless tribes have started working closely with the Egyptian government to aid them in anti-terrorism operations. Given weapons, vehicles and tactical support, tribespeople are sent on campaigns to confront offshoots of the Islamic State, repaid with amnesty for their actions and citizenship when they return. Many tribespeople have agreed to work with the government, believing employment and citizenship are worth the danger of these missions. However, many tribespeople have died or been injured during these campaigns and, as a result of this new allegiance, terrorist groups are targeting tribal villages as well, dragging innocent people into the conflict. 

Apart from the damage caused by the involvement of the tribespeople in anti-terrorism missions, the Egyptian government has also made life difficult for tribes that have refused to work with it. One such tribe, the Azazma, have had their names excluded from government records and have not received official identity cards, which are required to receive any government services and have been given to other nearby tribes.

Besides using citizenship as a tool to recruit the tribespeople, the Egyptian government has also recently begun threatening citizenship revocation to deter human rights activists. On December 24, 2020, political activist Ghada Naguib had her citizenship stripped by the government. This decision was likely triggered by Naguib accusing a senior intelligence officer of being behind the disappearance of a different activist, Doaa Khalifa, who had previously accused the same officer of blackmail. This situation is the first use of the 2017 amendments to Egypt’s nationality law, which expanded the circumstances in which the government can revoke citizenship and worried human rights activists around the world.

Egypt has grown increasingly authoritarian since President Abdel Fattah al-Sisi took power in 2013, with human rights abuses increasing while individual freedoms are increasingly restricted. According to Freedom House, the country’s Freedom Score, which takes into account civil liberties and political rights, was 21/100 in 2020, and has been steadily decreasing over the past few years. However, removing Naguib’s citizenship is a new level for the al-Sisi regime, with Human Rights Watch Deputy Middle East and North Africa Director Joe Stork calling it a “shocking and dangerous precedent,” and saying that “Egyptian authorities are stooping to a new low in punishing dissent.”

While numerous human rights organizations around the world are outraged and have called on the Egyptian government to restore citizenship to Naguib, the reaction from foreign governments has notably been silent. This kind of bystanderism is what has allowed Egypt’s government to turn into a dictatorship and get away with constant human rights violations. President Donald Trump had long given al-Sisi a pass on his actions, even going as far as to call him his “favorite dictator.” 

The only way to curb this kind of behavior from Egypt in the future is for other countries to step in and take action in a way that lets Egypt know its repressive actions will not be tolerated. Unfortunately, this does not look likely in the near future — at least from the United States. The Biden administration stated in late February that human rights will be at the core of future relations with Egypt, then followed through with a sale of almost $200 million in missiles to the country only a few days after dissidents and their families (including U.S. citizens) were jailed by the Egyptian government. 

Regardless of whether Egypt continues to recruit tribespeople to fight its wars or strips nationality from other activists, it is clear that citizenship is just one more tool in the Egyptian government’s repertoire, and one that it is very willing to use.

In mid-December 2014, Egypt’s military administration passed a new sweeping law institutionalizing a crackdown on civil society. This law forbids “compromising national unity” or “harming national interest,” i.e. engaging in the criticism of government and advocacy for social justice that is imperative for a country in the wake of a democratic transition. The new law also targets organizations that receive foreign funding, echoing the controversial 2013 Non-Governmental Organization (NGO) case, which resulted in jail sentences for 43 individuals, including Americans, who operated foreign-funded NGOs.

During Egypt’s 2011 popular uprising, calls for reform and democratic justice exploded, and hope for regime change emerged. However, the years since this uprising have brought division and disappointment for former revolutionaries. Unemployment, economic stagnation and political disillusionment have festered in the wake of a corrupt Muslim Brotherhood administration and a subsequent military coup. The struggle between the Muslim Brotherhood and the military today echoes the history of these two groups that have historically battled for power in Egypt. In this latest standoff, the biggest losers have been activists and other civil society groups.

This new anti-civil society law represents the most recent episode in a series of democratic setbacks since the revolution. The 2013 court decision and most recent civil society law are based off a Mubarak-era ruling, NGO Law 84 of 2002, which has been used by both the Morsi and Sisi administrations to justify suppressing popular dissent. This law, which was amended in 2013 to include even more oppressive measures, requires the registration of all NGOs with the government, forbids fundraising and advocacy projects, and can even stop any action of an NGO working in Egypt. This was a shock to international pundits watching Egypt; yet, the most recent version passed in December adds even more restrictions to civil society groups and carries the threat of a life sentence in jail for any individual operating in an NGO seen to violate these regulations.

The enforcement of this law is likely to fall primarily on human rights organizations. Because ensuring human rights are the responsibility of the government, these groups cannot engage in their necessary fundraising and outreach activities out of fear of prosecution. The purpose of these measures, according to the Egyptian authorities, is to prevent “terrorism” by keeping a control on the activities of domestic non-state actors. This logic, while certainly not unique to the Sisi regime, is laughable, since the government is cementing its own legitimacy issues by silencing the dissenting voices of its people.

Does this crackdown mean that Egypt’s revolution is dead? Hardly. This new move by Sisi has generated fierce opposition from both domestic and international actors. Egyptian human rights advocates have drawn parallels between the current Sisi administration and the fascist regimes of the 20th century. The many regulatory and bureaucratic hurdles imposed on civil society will be a formidable setback; however, Egypt’s civil society sector is the most vibrant in the region. The dialogue and ambition unleashed by the 2011 protests cannot be restrained by an oppressive government.

However, civil society will likely undergo a period of stagnation. Under the existing legislation, international organizations such as Freedom House and Human Rights Watch have faced restrictions on their operations, and the most effective domestic human rights organizations are in a state of limbo, awaiting governmental approbation of their official status. Foreign funded NGOs will find their operations compromised with the restrictions on finances and international support.

This new law is a clear indication that the Sisi government is concerned with maintaining a strong grip on its control over Egyptian politics and society, and that civil society will be a new battleground in the struggle over Egypt’s future. Egypt’s position as a regional political and diplomatic leader makes a successful democratic transition and return to stability paramount. However, the aftermath of the revolution has been a protracted partisan struggle for control without real institutional or structural change, undermining the efforts of those who protested and died in Tahrir Square. This does not signal the death of Egyptian democracy, yet is a severe loss for democracy and human rights advocates in the country, as well as the general public who benefits from this work. NGOs such as the Egyptian Initiative for Personal Rights were central to keeping pressure on Egypt’s transitional government to guarantee free and fair elections and a moderately democratic process. If these organizations are not allowed to continue the fight for freedom, human rights and democracy, this revolution will be lost.

At age 12, a visit to the hairdresser marked a rare occasion for Umm Mohammad. “We were all very excited, as each girl had just been given a new, white dress.” And yet, the day didn’t proceed as expected. “Suddenly this man, who was really a stranger to us, started to undress us,” she told the German news organization Deutsche Welle. “Then he got out his razor blade.” Under no anesthesia and unhygienic conditions, Mohammad underwent an experience that would skew her perception of womanhood and traumatize her for the rest of her life. Her “circumcision” left literal and figurative scars that transcend the pain she experiences every day living in Cairo’s slums. Mohammad’s experience is but one narrative of the oppressed female experience in Egypt.

Among a myriad of other human rights violations, Egypt subjects 91% of its female population to genital mutilation, a procedure defined by a clitoridectomy, the cutting of the clitoris and external genitals, or infibulation, the sewing closed of the vaginal opening. Although the cultural practice is male-engineered, it’s most often propagated by mothers, who believe it to curb their daughters’ sexual desires and preserve their chastity. Above all, it maintains family honor and ensures marital prospects. However, these mothers are merely vehicles through which men establish a patriarchal dominance over women and deny them agency over their bodies and behavior.

Because many men spurn marriage to women who haven’t undergone some form of female genital mutilation (FGM), perceiving them to be “unclean”, mothers subject their daughters to the procedure in order to maximize marriage prospects. In this way, FGM has become a cultural practice for young girls as a critical right of passage into womanhood. However, it is men who have calculated this narrow definition of womanhood as a system of self-oppression. Men aren’t oppressing women; women are oppressing women. This ingenious and twisted system works in two ways: girls avoid pre-marital sex because they both fear the pain of breaking their stitching and the dishonor that comes with subverting a system that values honor above all else.

The practice, however, plays but one part in the female narrative around sexuality and honor. Every aspect of it caters to a man’s desires. Let’s consider infibulation, the sewing shut of the vaginal opening, which leaves only a small portion open for urination and menstruation. Many men physically prefer penetrating a woman who’s undergone the procedure; her first sexual encounter, and even subsequent times, will require him to literally rip her open. On a psychological level, the surgery allows men to claim women as property, which feeds into the cultural pressure for women to ‘save their chastity’ for their husbands. But, men are really stealing a woman’s agency over her own body; once that has been claimed, the woman often feels powerless. Yet, the practice doesn’t merely increase a man’s pleasure; it simultaneously decreases the woman’s by removing what many would argue is the epicenter of female sexual pleasure. Many women will never feel any pleasure, insinuating that female sexuality is of both shameful and secondary importance—even within the confines of marriage.

While many North African countries have yet to ban FGM as a practice, Egypt already has, which might indicate a turning of the tide. According to the UN, legislative steps towards punishing perpetrators are critical. Following the death of an 11-year-old during an FGM procedure in 2008, Egyptian legislators passed the Child Rights Law No. 126 to punish perpetrators with three months to two years of imprisonment—or a meager $700 fine. However, November 2014 marked the first time an incident reached trial. And, more discouraging, the rates of FGM haven’t changed significantly since 2008. This indicates a discrepancy between law and reality, which could be explained by Egypt’s political instability.

The Mubarak Regime prevented many medical professionals from conducting the procedure since they feared the repercussions of Suzanne’s Law, which outlawed FGM and liberalized divorce laws. No one had been prosecuted under his rule; however, in an attempt to obscure the realities of authoritarianism to the West, the Mubarak Regime gave women more opportunities to secure new freedoms. However, under ambiguous political authority, doctors now express a flagrant disregard for the law, willing to accommodate any family willing to pay the price. In fact, there’s been a drastic shift in those who actually facilitate FGM procedures. Egyptians are increasingly turning to medical professionals instead of local community members. Unlike many other MENA countries with ubiquitous female circumcision practices in which local village circumcisers or barbers perform the procedure, Egyptian doctors now conduct most operations—77% of them, in fact. Though this is a safer method than that which Umm Mohammad endured, it is concerning that doctors are willing to conduct a procedure with no medical benefits and a slew of physical and psychological risks. While engaging and educating local communities remains an important facet of combatting this savagery against women, it appears that directing law enforcement towards doctors might be more effective.

Within a convoluted system of authority and a burgeoning democracy, human rights need to be at the forefront of the public dialogue in Egypt. Women are especially vulnerable to abuse, especially under a cultural backdrop that perpetuates sexual violence. With a growing population of dissenters to the practice, it’s up to the government to enforce its codified laws against FGM, starting with prosecution and education of doctors. However, Egyptian women might have to wait a while to see their rights actualized, since it is unlikely that these changes will arrive under President al-Sisi, widely known for defending the “virginity tests” conducted on female protesters in 2011.

The views expressed by the author do not necessarily reflect those of the Glimpse from the Globe staff, editors, or governors.

In the 2012 Burmese elections, Aung San Suu Kyi – the leader of the National League for Democracy (NLD) – won a seat in parliament after spending years under house arrest. Her triumph represented a shift in the power wielded by the ruling military dictatorship. Though the transition to a true democracy is unfinished, Suu Kyi’s election placed Burma/Myanmar in a positive global spotlight.[1] Such a peaceful transition contrasts that of Egypt, which appears to be returning to military-dominated governance only three years after a popular coup ousted Hosni Mubarak and six decades of authoritarian regime. Despite the two countries’ vastly different histories, identities and economic and international interests, can Burma’s success story be a potential analog for Egypt?

Military dictatorships are not uncommon in today’s world, especially in developing countries. This is perhaps because civil society widely considers militaries to be the most capable institution to rule, or because the military is able to organize itself enough to claim power over a burgeoning democratic movement. The current prevalence of this form of government, in which the military institution controls the politics and governance of the nation-state, is thought to exist mainly as a leftover of the Cold War era bipolar order in which the United States and the Soviet Union “collected” allies to their cause. Training developing countries’ militaries to control public resistance within its borders – instead of existing solely to protect citizens from enemies coming from outside – was the cornerstone of a US Cold War foreign policy termed “national security doctrine.”[2] The US retained allies by providing military and financial aid, and teaching foreign governments to recognize and destroy communist cells. In return, these countries would remain loyal to the US cause, championing democracy and capitalism.

As a result of this Cold War doctrine, the highly trained military emerged as the dominant institution within developing countries. These institutions were easily able to take control of the government and, believing their own systems and bureaucracy to be most well-equipped to run the country, assumed political control. In many of these cases, global society did not object to these military governments, because the great powers were more focused on retaining allies than on the rights of the people living within the allied countries. The problem with favoring the power of the military over the rights of the people, though, is that eventually these policies will have consequences—the populace can only be repressed for so long before they will rebel against the government.

The key to working around the interests of these powerful militaries, whose interests lie more in retaining power than in providing quality lives for their people, is to co-opt the institution into having a stake in democracy. In Burma, the efforts and sacrifices of Suu Kyi and NLD were certainly effective in battling the dictatorship on both the global and domestic levels using her image as a human rights icon.

However, it could be argued that the key actor in affecting this ideological change in the military is actually the global economic system. Burma is rich in natural resources, and has struggled with China, which is attempting to turn Burma into a quasi-vassal state. Since Burma has demonstrated what could be the beginning of a successful transition towards democracy it has begun to establish economic and political relations with the US. The US, meanwhile, is interested in Burma’s success because it has interests in competing with and containing China, and being seen as a global supporter of democracy. In this way, Burma’s military elites have slowly been co-opted into ceding power to the democratic government: with increased levels of democracy come increased levels of investment in the country. In November 2015, it will be interesting to note how the military responds to the coming elections, and particularly whether it will allow Suu Kyi to run for the presidential seat she covets.

In Egypt, the opposite transition is taking place, and it remains to be seen whether cooptation of the military, as has occurred in Burma, could eventually save the potential for Egyptian democracy. Abdel Fattah al-Sisi, the former defense minister and army Field Marshal, was “elected” to the Egyptian presidency in June 2014. Amidst the excitement of “elections” in Egypt, it was clear that they were not exactly democratic; Sisi won the presidency with 96% of the vote, with only one opponent taking 4% and the rest of the political parties abstaining from the elections in protest against the military and its treatment of opposition groups.

The military, which has trained and educated every Egyptian president since Nasser’s Free Officers movement, has always retained some level of control on Egypt’s fate. In 2011, during the Arab uprisings, the military refused to side with authoritarian president Mubarak and allowed the popular uprising to succeed, before it took over interim control of the government as the Supreme Council of Armed Forces (SCAF). Even once elections were held in Egypt, the military retained tight control of politics, executing a coup to remove the democratically elected Mohamed Morsi from office and massacring hundreds of supporters of the Muslim Brotherhood.

It has become clear that the Egyptian military, with Sisi as president and a literal army of his military allies surrounding him in government, is in absolute control of state politics. Global society has not denounced this takeover. This could be because allied states have prioritized the military regime’s suppression of Islamist movements over the establishment of democracy. The US and its allies want a stable Egypt for many strategic reasons; forcing the military to hold true elections and effectively deposing Sisi and his military elite system would throw the country into greater chaos. Egypt’s military has enjoyed significant influence in the country’s politics since independence in 1952: what actor would fill the power vacuum if the military were to be entirely sidelined?

Egyptians have already cited countless human rights violations, including the massacres occurring against dissenters to Sisi’s regime. The media is also being curtailed: Bassem Youssef’s political satire television show was cancelled and al-Jazeera journalists have been jailed and sentenced to life in prison. The judicial system now allows the military to try civilians without logical justification. Human rights are slowly disappearing in Egypt, and, currently, no countries have the means or the interest to coerce the military into ceding power, especially when the state of the global economic system makes it beneficial to the US and its allies to keep Egypt stable.

As demonstrated by the evolving experience in Burma, the only way to regain at least a semblance of democracy in Egypt is to co-opt the military into a democratic agenda by providing it with interests in further structural reforms. The actors who can accomplish this, and how they will do so, remains to be seen. But it is through observing the potentially successful transitional steps occurring in countries like Burma that those working towards democratic reform in Egypt can convince the military to cede some of its power and truly adopt positive change in Egypt.

Correction: The previous version of this article mistakenly identified the National Democratic Party, or NDP, as a major political party in Burma. No such party exists. The article has been corrected and identifies the National League for Democracy, or NLD, as the opposition party led by Aung San Suu Kyi.

The views expressed by the author do not necessarily reflect those of the Glimpse from the Globe staff, editors, or governors.

Other Works Cited

[1] The name of the country is controversial: Burma, the original name, was changed to Myanmar in 1989 by the military junta (the name of the capital, Rangoon, was also changed to Yangon). The United Nations and many states recognized these changes. However, some countries such as the US and UK, as well as Suu Kyi’s NLD, only use the name Burma because they do not recognize the legitimacy of the unelected military regime who brought about the change. In this article, I will exclusively use ‘Burma’.

[2] Paul Zagorski, Democracy and National Security: Civil-Military Relations in Latin America. Boulder: Lynne Rienner Publications, 1992.

Tunisia will hold parliamentary elections at the end of October. A month later, presidential elections will follow. To see a country in the Middle East preparing to hold democratic elections, particularly in the current climate of regional instability, is nothing short of remarkable. And yet, a cursory Google search of the world’s major news outlets offers few descriptions or analyses of these elections and the Tunisian political parties angling for victory.

The lack of media coverage on these upcoming elections isn’t entirely puzzling—the region is in turmoil. The conflict with IS has, understandably, dominated regional coverage of the Middle East for the past few months. The Syrian civil war is unending. Last year, the Egyptian military pulled off a coup removing their democratically elected president and replacing him with a military general whose impact on Egypt is still unclear. The fact that conflict is currently dominating the Middle East / North Africa region (MENA) unfortunately means that Tunisia’s success – the state’s institutional and psychological capacity to hold what hopefully will be a free and fair democratic election – is greatly overshadowed.

However, the path to these elections hasn’t been easy. Tunisia, like many of the Arab countries in the Middle East, was ruled for decades by an authoritarian leadership that favored capitalist cronyism and suppressed dissention, including the demand for basic human rights. Conditions in Tunisia before 2011 were horrendous for those who were not part of the small circle of profiteers circling the country’s leader, Zine al-Abidine Ben Ali. It took a 26-year old Tunisian fruit seller, Mohamed Boazizi, to self-immolate in protest of the immense injustice of Tunisia’s corrupt society to spread the fervor of revolution to the rest of the country. Within weeks, that fervor had spread all over MENA in what is known as the Arab Spring or the Arab uprisings.

The Arab uprisings began in Tunisia, and the first democratic elections in MENA post-Spring were held in Tunisia just six months after Ben Ali was forced to flee the country. Now, three years after the revolution, Tunisia is also the first of the affected countries to hold what many scholars agree will be free and fair democratic parliamentary elections.

The biggest and most organized political party in Tunisia, and arguably the one that has had the greatest impact on the country’s path to democracy since the uprising three years ago, is the Ennahda Movement (“the Renaissance Movement” in Arabic). Ennahda was the majority party of Tunisia’s first elected government back in 2011. After two years of controversial policies and two assassinations of opposition leaders by Islamist groups, Ennahda faced harsh criticisms that the party had not been able to satisfactorily run the government. As a result, Ennahda voluntarily, albeit with significant political pressure stepped down from its majority seat in the government in January 2014, ceding power to a caretaker government until a new round of elections could be held. Despite Ennahda’s missteps in being able to efficiently govern the country for the first two and a half years of democracy, the party’s willingness to step down from power signaled a significant shift from the authoritarian party politics so common in the region to a more democratic mindset.

The contrast of Ennahda’s action to that of the Egyptian Muslim Brotherhood party, which refused to step down from power and was removed by a military coup, became especially stark. Though the results of both of these cases in Tunisia and Egypt did eventually lead to democratic elections, Egypt’s path has been significantly rockier. Thousands of Muslim Brotherhood supporters have been massacred or jailed and sentenced to death, while the elections back in June yielded 96% of the vote to military leader Al-Sisi – hinting that the elections were not exactly democratic. Meanwhile, Tunisia is prepping for parliamentary and presidential elections – and Ennahda has voluntarily removed itself from the presidential elections in November so as to ensure an inclusive government in Tunisia this time around.

The nature of Ennahda and its decision-making, the rocky but direct path to democracy and constitutional reform that Tunisia has undergone, and the individuals working towards the end goal of the first truly democratically elected Arab government are, when viewed in the context of the rest of the region, clearly something of an anomaly. It is for this reason that, in the coming weeks, the media needs to start paying attention to these elections. Students of the region need to start examining in greater depth and detail the mechanisms that have brought Tunisia to this point. And we should be questioning the democratic process as it unfolds and ensuring that it truly is “as good as it sounds.”

It is the responsibility of the media, academics and global society, which are currently too consumed by the violence occurring in the region, to shift the focus to encouraging events like those in Tunisia. How can the world believe in positive change in the Middle East if all we see of the region is religious fanaticism and ethno-cultural conflicts? And how can those living in the region develop any hope for the future, or any strategies for improvement? How else can regional leaders and political parties understand that working together – not shutting out opposition with violence – is the only way to move forward as a country? Simply focusing more on these elections in Tunisia, and directing some of the attention away from airstrikes on IS, will build much needed global, regional and national confidence in the Middle East. It will encourage those working towards these elections in Tunisia to ensure that the elections truly are as democratic and inclusive as they are advertised. And it will force the leaders, parliaments, parties and people of other Middle Eastern countries to consider how they might best end years of conflict.

It is by observing the successes and failures that Tunisia has experienced in the last few years that other countries will be able to learn about their own systems’ potential for change. True enough, the eyes of Middle East regional specialists will be trained on Tunisia for the next two months, but that’s not good enough. We must look behind us at Tunisia’s past in order to move forward in building security in the Middle East in the future.

The views expressed by the author do not necessarily reflect those of the Glimpse from the Globe staff, editors, or governors.

As the Syrian Civil War continues into its third year and the Islamic State’s (IS) actions in Iraq grab international headlines, a humanitarian crisis is clearly unfolding in the Middle East. However, one of the most difficult aftermaths of these crises from a policymaking standpoint is not found in Syria or Iraq. Rather, it involves the unsustainable influx of refugees from these failing states to neighboring countries.

Jordan, Lebanon and Turkey are feeling the strain of mass increases to their populations on public services and economies. In Jordan, for instance, Za’atari refugee camp has grown to the country’s fourth largest city in the aftermath of the Syrian Civil War. Refugee populations outside of camps face similar challenges of integration into new schools, work forces, and neighborhoods, to say nothing of the countries’ abilities to sustain this rapid population increase.

The economic strain on countries hosting refugees from Syria, Egypt, Libya, Palestine and Iraq are not new; these issues have been covered by a plethora of news outlets. However, this economic burden is only a part of the growing long-term challenge posed by this rapid demographic shift. As refugee camps grow and refugees increasingly face challenges assimilating into their new environments, countries are put at greater risk of extremism, trafficking and the proliferation of illicit networks. Policymakers need to focus on these more impending security issues, as well as human rights and development concerns, when making decisions about Syria and Iraq. Focusing on documented cases in Za’atari, one of the most highly serviced and publicized camps, illustrates this trend.

The lack of licit economic opportunity forces many refugees to pursue innovative methods to make a living, while simultaneously coping with the psychological impacts of war. In some cases, this results in the establishment of highly sophisticated, although unregistered, businesses and enterprises. The flip side of this entrepreneurial upswing is the emergence of trafficking networks. Za’atari’s rapid growth necessitates sustainable development policies that have the foresight to recognize the permanence of this emergent city, and deal with such threats accordingly.

The desperation felt by many Syrians at their own prospects for survival and the need to support children and family members has driven many women, who make up a majority of refugees at Za’atari, to pursue prostitution as a last resort. While no official outlets are able to place a number on the number of refugees forced into such a position, a report released by the Association for Human Rights and Solidarity of the Oppressed notes that 80% of Syrian refugees in Turkey are women and children, resulting in high levels of insecurity. Those who capitalize on their desperation have created sex trafficking networks that extend outside the camp’s borders. This trafficking also extends to drugs and persons.

Jordanian government officials, including information minister Abdallah Abu Romman, have voiced concerns at the “security threats” posed by such a swell in foreign populations. Despite the xenophobic overtones of this speech, it is true that the potential of Assad- or insurgent-affiliated individuals infiltrating the camps and expanding their networks is a severe threat to Jordanian citizens. While the majority of refugees are not radical and simply strive to make ends meet, complicity in illicit networks may be incentivized if certain groups are able to provide compensation or security assurances.

Similar trends can be observed in refugees outside of camps. Four out of five Syrian refugees in Jordan live outside of camps, and are banned from joining the formal job sector. Therefore, many take up black market jobs out of desperation. As pointed out in The Economist, this has the potential to sow conflict and resentment between Syrians and Jordanians, having stark implications for the future as resources become more and more strained.

As the number of refugees from the crisis in Iraq tops one million, there will not be many more places for them to go. This has important implications for how countries’ foreign policies should approach these Middle East conflicts. Aside from debates on involvement versus non-interventionism, wealthier countries should place a high priority on providing humanitarian assistance to countries supporting refugees. Not only will this improve the living conditions of the millions of displaced persons, but will lower the threat of these at-risk populations becoming absorbed into illicit networks and engaging with violent non-state actors. President Obama’s recent address to the United States on IS discussed the continuation of humanitarian aid, but did not make any specific mention of the refugee issue. Especially as we view the rise of groups such as IS as a threat to US national security, US engagement should prioritize bolstering refugee human rights and security. Aid, development projects and civil society building will allow refugees to become integrated into their new countries without having to resort to illegal means of survival.

The views expressed by these authors do not necessarily reflect those of the Glimpse from the Globe staff, editors, or governors.

The CNN app on my phone, which informs me of global and domestic events multiple times throughout the day, has stopped mentioning the current Gaza crisis. Is my phone getting tired of hearing about these continuous attempts to broker successful peace talks between Israel and Hamas? Is it losing faith in diplomacy’s ability to instill some kind of change in this conflict? Is that also why the media’s reporting on this crisis has slowly trickled out?

In the past two weeks, the Egyptian-sponsored talks between the two sworn enemies first fell apart when Hamas rejected a US-backed, Israeli-supported peace proposal; Hamas cited that none of its demands were met. Rockets and airstrikes were exchanged until last Tuesday, when the Egyptians brokered a new ceasefire. The new proposal appears only slightly more neutral, however, directing Israel to loosen its hold over Gaza’s border only to allow humanitarian organizations to begin rebuilding. But the accepted proposal does not directly address the larger issues of the Israeli blockade on Gaza and Hamas’ demands for a seaport and airport. Egypt promises to reopen negotiations within the month to address these larger issues. It’s not surprising that Egypt has been playing such a patient role in these negotiations, though: the country has a lot riding on peace between these two entities.

I want to get something straight first. It’s not unusual that Egypt has taken up the role as peacemaker. Historically, Egypt has pushed and prodded its image as the “Arab leader” of the Middle Eastern states: it is by far the most populated country in the region, has for the most part kept up a strong military alliance with the United States and was the first Arab country to acknowledge Israel as a state when Egypt’s leader, Anwar Sadat, signed the Camp David Accords in 1978. In this sense, it isn’t hard to see why Egypt is and has for many years taken a lead role in facilitating peace between Palestine and Israel whenever conflicts arise. If Egypt succeeds in establishing peace, even if for a little while, then it will be praised for its diplomatic genius by the US and regional peers. And, if Egyptian diplomats fail, well, at least they tried, right?

Yet, what is so curious about this round of conflict resolution is that the Egyptian cease-fire proposal has continuously favored Israel’s interests. In the original proposal, the Israeli blockade of Gaza’s borders and economy would simply be loosened, not lifted, and Israel would be allowed to retain its hold on the Gaza territory: unacceptable conditions from Hamas’ perspective. In the past, failure to appease the Palestinian delegation would result in Egypt rushing to fix its proposal to better suit both sides; favoritism towards the Palestinians – Egypt’s Arab allies – was not uncommon. This time was different: Egypt, Saudi Arabia, the UAE and Jordan called on Hamas to accept the proposal. Since when does the Arab world conspicuously side with Israel over Palestine? And since when do the Arab states in the Middle East region support the Jewish state over another Arab one?

This is no longer about the Arabs of the region versus the Israelis. It’s about stamping out Islamism and every one of its far-reaching tendrils, which includes groups like Hamas and the Muslim Brotherhood (both of which, by the way, are internationally recognized terrorist organizations). Even the powerful Arab governments in Egypt, UAE, Saudi Arabia and Jordan, which may have funded extremist Sunni religious groups in the past, are quickly denying any involvement in these groups’ actions once the groups gain power in the region. These Arab governments, regardless of their alleged shared interests with these groups in the past, are terrified of Islamism once it is powerful enough to threaten their national security. Because of Islamism’s proven ability to topple regimes, they consider such terrorist groups a direct threat to their security. It’s a complicated situation that varies for each government and their relations with each group, but, as pertains to the current Palestinian-Israeli crisis, the Arab governments are willing to put aside their previous fervent dislike for Israel if it means they might be able to destroy Hamas.

The reason why this issue hits so close to home for Egypt is clear if we look at its recent past. Not too long ago, Egypt elected President Mohammad Morsi and his Muslim Brotherhood party—a political choice that disintegrated fairly quickly when Morsi and his party began showing signs of taking more liberties than democracy would allow. The Egyptian military ousted Morsi and, since this past June, has put Al-Sisi, a military man, in his place. Al-Sisi, for his part, is determined to destroy any remnant of the Brotherhood in Egypt. He has declared them a terrorist organization and has in the past year imprisoned and killed many of their followers. With Hamas, too, Al-Sisi is clear about his position, announcing in a statement that Hamas, and not Israel, is to blame for the countless civilian deaths in Palestine throughout the crisis this summer. Even the Egyptian media condemns Hamas for being a “tool of a regional Islamist plot” to destabilize Egypt yet again.

So, for arguably the first time, the states leading the Arab region find their interests aligned with those of Israel. It is in the best interests of both to delegitimize and destroy Hamas, and both will work together towards achieving this goal. Does this mean Israel has finally found its regional niche in this united Arab-Israeli fight against a terrorist group? Perhaps—though with the current uncertainty in the region it’s hard to tell in the long run, and long-held biases don’t necessarily die so easily. For now, though, Egypt and its peers are focused wholeheartedly on the desperate quest for regional stability.

The views expressed by these authors do not necessarily reflect those of the Glimpse from the Globe staff, editors, or governors.

Darren Wilson, a white police officer, shot and killed Michael Brown on August 9. Brown was 18, unarmed and black. His body lay in the street for four hours. According to Brown’s autopsy results, the teenager was shot from the front, with the shot to the top of his head likely the cause of his death. While much can be disputed about autopsy results – including the distance between the shooter and the victim and whether or not they were moving forwards or backwards – the medical examiner for Montgomery County, Pennsylvania and the director of autopsy services at the Yale School of Medicine both agree with the conclusion that Brown was facing Wilson when he was shot.

It’s always compelling to start with the facts, and no more words should need to be written to argue that the alleged excessive use of force on the part of Officer Wilson is likely another chapter in a long and ugly history of police brutality against black men in the United States.

Police work is undoubtedly a difficult profession with little pay. Being a police officer, like putting on a military uniform, is an honorable profession. But something has gone tragically awry in Ferguson: the evolution of the police force from a protective to offensive force. The killing of Michael Brown is potentially emblematic of a wider trend: according to a USA Today study of FBI data, 25% of the deaths involving a police officer that are reported to the federal government by municipal departments are white-on-black shootings. 70% of SWAT team deployments are for minority suspects. The reality is that minorities – and especially blacks – are disproportionately the victims of shootings by police.

Make no mistake: I’m a white man writing about bad things white people have done, and the color of my skin – and my gender – give me certain societal privileges that mean I will never ever truly understand the plight of being black in America. But a look into the world of police brutality in several other countries offers a deep sense of perspective for all races, and makes the Ferguson tragedy look even more disgusting than it already is.

The revolution in Egypt began on National Police Day in mid-2011. The uprising against military dictator Hosni Mubarak was partially catalyzed by a public sick of a long history of police brutality. Sadly, in the years after the revolution, little has changed. Instances of kidnapping, torture and ill treatment during custody combined with a light sentence for the rare legal action taken against police has left many wondering if the revolution was successful. In December 2013, the BBC interviewed Hussein Fekry, the head of the human rights division of Egypt’s Interior Ministry—who runs the police.

“Torture and cruelty are part of human behavior that doesn’t stop by pushing a certain button,” he told them.

In Mexico, like Egypt, police brutality is often politically motivated. Following the inauguration of Enrique Peña Nieto in 2012, The Guardian summarized the results of an investigation by Mexico’s human rights commission: four cases of alleged torture and nearly 25 unjust arrests. When MVS Noticias interviewed Luis Gonzáles Placencia, the head of the investigating commission, he indicated this was representative of a trend in the Mexican police force to “encapsulate a person, take them away, and then try to justify some kind of link with criminal activities.”

There are three important points of comparison.

The first is institutionalization. In Egypt, where the instances of brutality include systematic rape and kidnapping, there is no apparent ethnic disparity between the police and civilians. In Mexico, where there is also no significant difference between police and victims’ ethnicity, police brutality stemmed from clashes of police and protesters following significant political events. But other than political differences (and the fact that police in Egypt and Mexico vigorously defend the established power), nowhere is two-plus centuries of racism ingrained as deeply into police brutality as in America.

Ferguson makes 25% of its revenue from court fees—and traffic citations and arrests are handed out to blacks in percentages that exceed their share of Ferguson’s population. (Two-thirds of the Ferguson population is black and 94% of its police force is white.) The disproportionate conviction rates in Ferguson and huge diversity gap on the police force leave no doubt: police brutality in America runs much closer to the bedrock of human interaction because it is a manifestation of the worst form of human interaction that began during slavery, continued through sharecropping and the Jim Crow era, and now infects the police and legal system.

Police brutality in all forms is reprehensible because it is an abuse of power and a fracturing of the social contract by those whom society trusts to protect them from harm. But race-based police brutality in America is uniquely shameful because at its foundation are preconceived assumptions about people of color. Eliminating those assumptions must be the cornerstone of any strategy to eliminate police brutality. How can there be a conversation about police dealing with political protests if the police holster a 200-year-old history of prejudice along with their guns?

Hypocrisy is the second point of comparison. Police forces in Egypt and Mexico don’t try and hide behind the guise of democracy, due process and equal protection. Our uniformed police who discriminate people of color hide behind the American Constitution. Police forces in the above mentioned countries destroy evidence of brutality and concoct stories to discredit the accusations. In Ferguson, with the evidence in plain sight (under a blanket on the concrete for a few hours, incidentally), the police, in despicable fashion, chose to release a tape seeming to show Michael Brown robbing a store and then to let the media concoct stories on their behalf.

The third and final straw is the imbalance between those willing to speak out against police brutality and those willing to support it. In Mexico and Egypt, police brutality is often the struggle of the many against the powerful few. In other words, the police usually win because they have the guns, not because they have the support of a significant amount of the population (see any other Arab spring country for an explanation of why this is true). In America, not so: donors have contributed more to a GoFundMe account supporting Officer Wilson than the Michael Brown Memorial Fund.

In the best (and most unlikely case), maybe the imbalance in funds raised is just a manifestation of the bystander effect. Maybe, the optimistic among us might think, people in America who recognize and oppose discrimination against blacks are surely in the majority, but less willing to vocalize their position than the few and far between radical racists among us. That’s not good enough: anyone who doesn’t speak out on the Ferguson tragedy in some capacity is standing complicit with the undercurrent of institutional racism in America.

Which brings to light a more practical explanation: maybe the fund imbalance is more descriptive of how the nation feels about Ferguson than we might think. For example, compare the results of two polls taken by the Pew Research center in August of 2009 and May of 2013. In one poll, 29% of white people interviewed said they felt in touch with the dead. 17% said they had interacted with a ghost. In the other, when asked “Is there discrimination against blacks?” just 16% of white people said “a lot.” 41% said “some.”

More white people believe they have been connected to the dead than believe there is a lot of discrimination against people of color.

If only those white people could interact with the ghosts of Trayvon Martin and Michael Brown. What would they say? Martin and Brown would say the ghosts that haunt people of color in America are not just from our nation’s past, and they aren’t dead. Sometimes, they carry a badge and a gun.

The views expressed by these authors do not necessarily reflect those of the Glimpse from the Globe staff, editors, or governors.