Motivation & Overview

India’s services sector is internationally renowned and has helped propel the country’s economic growth. Indeed, in recent years, a majority of the value added to India’s GDP has been concentrated in services. Especially noteworthy are India’s software and computing services, which include large multinational conglomerates like Infosys and Tata Communications Services. 

Yet as Indian software has flourished, the growth of its computer hardware and manufacturing has been sluggish. Tellingly, India is still a net importer of hardware and other electronics. At first glance, this divergence is puzzling because both the software and hardware sectors should have benefited from India’s educated labor pool and infrastructure. How can these different sectoral outcomes be explained?
 

Image

Fig. 1: Electronics production value compared to software and software service revenues.
 

In “Comparing Advantages in India’s Computer Hardware and Software Sectors,” Dinsha Mistree and Rehana Mohammed offer an explanation in terms of state capacity to meet the different functional needs of each sector. Their account of India’s computing history emphasizes the inability of various state ministries and agencies to agree on policies that would benefit the hardware sector, such as tariffs. Meanwhile, cumbersome rulemaking procedures inherited from British colonialism impeded the state’s flexibility. Although this disadvantaged India’s hardware sector, its software sector needed comparatively less from the state, building instead on international networks and the efforts of individual agencies.

The authors provide a historically and theoretically rich account of the political forces shaping India’s economic rise. The paper not only compares distinct moments in Indian history but also draws parallels with other landmark cases, like South Korea’s 1980s industrial surge. Such a sector-based analysis could be fruitfully applied to understand why different industries succeed or lag in emerging economies. 

Different Sectors, Different Needs

In order to become competitive — both domestically and (especially) internationally — hardware manufacturers often need much from the state, what the authors call a “produce and protect regime.” This can include the construction of factories and the formation of state-owned industries (SOEs), as well as tariffs to reduce competition or labor laws that restrict union strikes. Perhaps most importantly, manufacturers need a state whose legislators and bureaucrats can coordinate with each other in response to market challenges. Such a regime is incompatible with excessive “red tape” or with the “capture” of regulators by narrow interest groups. Because customers tend to view manufactured goods as “substitutable” with each other, firms will face intense competition as regards price and quality.
 

Image

Fig. 2: Inter-agency coordination required for sectoral success.
 

The situation is very different for service providers, whose success depends on building strong relationships with customers. States are not essential to this process, even if their promotional efforts can be helpful. Coordination across government agencies is similarly less important, as just one agency could provide tax breaks or host promotional events that benefit service providers. Compared with manufacturing, customers tend to view services as less substitutable — they are more intangible and customizable, which renders competition less fierce. Understanding India’s computing history reveals that the state’s inability to meet hardware manufacturers’ needs severely constrained the sector’s growth. 

The History of Indian Computing

Although India inherited a convoluted bureaucracy from the British Raj, the future of its computing industry in the 1960s seemed promising: political elites in New Delhi supported a produce-and-protect regime, relevant agencies and SOEs were created, and foreign computing firms like IBM successfully operated in the country. 

Yet by the 1970s, some bureaucrats and union leaders feared that automation would threaten the federal government’s functioning and India’s employment levels, respectively. Strict controls in both the public and private sectors were thus adopted, for example, requiring trade unions — which took a strong anti-computer stance — to approve the introduction of computers in specific industries. The authors make special mention of India’s semiconductor industry. It arguably failed to develop due to lackluster government investment, the need for manufacturers to obtain multiple permits across agencies, decision makers ignoring recommendations from specialized panels, and so on.

Meanwhile, implementing protectionist policies proved challenging. For example, decisions to allow the importation of previously banned components required permission from multiple ministries and agencies. After India’s 1970s balance-of-payments crisis, international companies deemed inessential were forced to dilute their equity to 40% and take on an Indian partner. IBM then left the Indian market. At the same time, SOEs faced growing competition over government contracts and workers, owing to the growth of state-level SOEs.

The mid-1980s represented a partial turning point as Rajiv Gandhi became Prime Minister and liberalized the computing industry. Within weeks, Rajiv introduced a host of new policies and shifted the government’s focus from supporting public sector production to promoting private firms, which would no longer face manufacturing limits and would be eligible for duty exemptions. Changes to tariff rates and import limits would not require approval from multiple agencies. Meanwhile, international firms reengaged with Indian markets via the building of satellite links, facilitating cross-continental work, such as between Citibank employees in Mumbai and Santa Cruz.

However, this liberalizing period was undermined and partially reversed after 1989, when Rajiv’s Congress Party (INC) lost its legislative majority and public policy became considerably more fragmented. Anti-computerization forces, especially the powerful Indian trade unions, worked to stymie Rajiv’s reforms. Pro-market reformists were forced out of their positions in Indian bureaucracies. Rajiv was assassinated in 1991, after which Congress formed a minority government with computer advocate P. V. Narasimha Rao as PM. Yet all of this occurred at a delicate time, as India was at risk of defaulting and had almost completely exhausted its foreign exchange.

By the late 1990s, both the hardware and software sectors should have benefited from the rising global demand for computers, yet India’s history of poor state coordination hindered manufacturers. Meanwhile, software firms were able to take advantage of global opportunities given their comparatively limited needs from state actors and political networks — for example, helping European Union banks change their computer systems to Euros. Ultimately, the Indian state has powerfully shaped the fortunes of these different sectors.

*Research-in-Brief prepared by Adam Fefer.

Argument & Key Findings

Hesham Sallam draws our attention to a surprising pattern: Egyptian Islamists and leftists have, for several generations, criticized each other on remarkably similar grounds. Their arguments have sometimes focused on Islam and left-wing political goals. But just as — if not more — frequently, they have focused on how each other’s agendas are inauthentic to Egyptian society and promoted to benefit foreign actors. It is true that the contents of their critiques have differed: Islamists denounce the left as betraying Egypt’s pure, Islamic nation while acting on behalf of “Zionists” or “western imperialists.” Meanwhile, leftists see Islamists as inauthentic to Egypt’s secular, pluralistic history, as well as advancing foreign interests. These differences notwithstanding, a common structure of political argument has been preserved across decades. 

The article introduces the history of Islamist-leftist debate in Egypt since the 1970s. Central to this history was the process of reappropriation: Islamists criticized the left, and the left responded by criticizing Islamists using more or less the same script. The study draws upon an array of Arabic sources likely unknown to readers outside of Egypt, including editorials, monographs, and public debates.

The Islamist Critique

The article first presents the intricacies of Egyptian Islamists’ critique of the left. There is a long history of Egyptian political elites denouncing left-wing politics as inauthentic and foreign. For example, Gamal Abdel-Nasser accused Egyptian communists of conspiring with Zionists and Soviets, while Anwar al-Sadat accused them of atheism and thus betraying Egypt’s Islamic essence. As leftists were repeatedly accused of disloyalty, nationalist ideas became even more dominant within leftist circles — this despite the historical suspicions of left-wing thinkers of nationalism as a distraction from class politics. The Egyptian case thus mirrors the trajectory of Europe’s internationalist labor movements during World War II, when leftist political goals were abandoned for state nationalism. In any case, the Islamist critique, which was led principally by the Muslim Brotherhood, regularly accused the left of foreign loyalties and a betrayal of Egyptian values. Over time, this critique was extended to secular Egyptians and deployed increasingly virulent language; for example, an academic critic of Islamism was denied promotion, ostensibly for his writings that were described by an Islamist detractor as “spreading cultural AIDS.” They also drew on prominent social science frameworks like Samuel Huntington’s “Clash of Civilizations”: Egypt’s authentic Islamic nation was seen as pitted in an irresolvable clash against the atheistic West, which, they alleged, was simultaneously funding the Egyptian left. These are just a few of the examples Sallam uses to show how Islamists portrayed the left as inauthentic and disloyal, undermining its legitimacy in Egyptian politics.
 

The Leftist Critique

Sallam next shows us how the left struck back at their Islamist foes. A key process in this history concerns the Hosni Mubarak regime’s co-optation of influential leftists into the state’s cultural institutions. This occurred as a response to the Muslim Brotherhood’s electoral successes in the 1980s. Coincident with these institutional changes, leftists began appropriating the authenticity critique. They claimed that Islamists were engaged not in building a pure Islamic state and society, but in a narrow project meant to advance their own political standing. Rejecting the Islamist critique of them as atheists, leftists accused their opponents of weaponizing Islam and betraying its true essence. They rejected the distinction between so-called violent and nonviolent Islamism, on the grounds that nonviolent Islamists still were willing to justify violence. Islamists were said to be working on behalf of foreign interests like Sudanese president Omar Al-Bashir, whose designs on Egyptian territory went unnoticed by Islamists. The Brotherhood was deemed a cult-like vehicle for indoctrinating and promoting foreign goals, especially those of the Gulf. Far from authentic to Egyptian society, Islamists were seen as holding Egyptian Muslims in contempt for their alleged heresies. And in one of the most surprising appropriations, leftists claimed that Islamists were in fact quite similar to both Zionists and imperialists: all three sought to dominate the Middle East through sectarian politics. The Brotherhood’s Egyptian constitution was denigrated for being indistinguishable from versions published in Europe and Pakistan. Especially inauthentic to Egyptian society was the Brotherhood’s view of religious minorities as second-class citizens; this was deemed a fundamental betrayal of Egypt’s national essence, namely secular pluralism. These counter-critiques helped the left frame itself as the true guardian of the Egyptian nation.
 

Beyond Speech

Importantly, the Islamist-leftist debates were not mere rhetoric, but served as a basis for political action, especially when it came to questions of cooperation. For example, after the Islamist critic Farag Foda was assassinated, the so-called ‘moderate’ Islamist Mohamed Al-Ghazali defended his assassins; some leftists used these events to justify their refusal to cooperate with Islamists. More generally, they argued that Islamists’ quest for a religious state would only lead to political violence and exclusion, further grounds to reject compromise. Yet claims about authenticity and nationalism were also used to justify cooperation, as when leftists argued that both they and the Brotherhood were natural allies in the fight against foreign imperialism and Zionism. It is not clear whether a less confrontational approach would have helped Islamists and leftists cooperate against Egypt’s successive dictators, but their divisive rhetoric almost certainly did not help matters.
 

Contributions

The article will help readers understand why Egyptian politics has become increasingly marked by groups’ ‘affective’ hatreds for one another, as opposed to normal political disagreements. By weaving the themes of treason and inauthenticity through decades of history, Sallam shows us why this new status quo is not surprising. Affective polarization has led many Egyptians to view their opponents as unworthy of political inclusion, consistent with the rise of a global populism that emphasizes “us vs. them” distinctions. Sallam fleshes this out by relaying the different responses among leftists and Islamists to Egypt’s 2013 military coup, which ousted the Brotherhood leader Morsi. Leftists called the coup a necessary evil to counter foreign influences seeking to establish an Islamic state, while Islamists accused the left of being sponsored by the West. 

Readers will see the conflict between Islamists and leftists as not just fleeting moments of political disagreement, but a generations-long battle for domination in the realm of ideas.

*Research-in-Brief prepared by Adam Fefer.

Haddad emphasized that while many Syrians welcomed the end of Assad’s decades-long rule, the transition has raised serious concerns about the country’s future. Over time, Assad’s regime had become weakened by corruption, economic decline, and an inability to provide basic services. By late 2024, Syria’s military was fragmented, demoralized, and lacked external support. When HTS forces advanced into Aleppo, Homs, and Damascus, the Syrian Army largely dissolved without significant resistance.

A key factor in Assad’s downfall was the unexpected inaction of his traditional allies. Russia, Iran, and Hezbollah — longtime backers of the regime — did not intervene. Iran, facing domestic unrest and wary of escalating tensions with Israel and the U.S., chose to stay out. Hezbollah, weakened by clashes with Israel, lacked the resources to help. Russia, preoccupied elsewhere, had seemingly accepted Assad’s fate. The lack of resistance suggests that the transfer of power may have been prearranged rather than a purely military victory.

The most immediate turning point came when Israel launched airstrikes that destroyed over 80% of Syria’s remaining military infrastructure. Notably, neither HTS nor other international actors responded to these strikes, fueling speculation about behind-the-scenes agreements between Turkey, Qatar, and Western powers.

With Assad gone, Ahmad Al-Shara, the leader of HTS, was declared Syria’s new president. However, Haddad noted that this transition was neither democratic nor transparent. Al-Shara, who was previously affiliated with Jabhat Al-Nusra (Al-Qaeda’s Syrian branch), has rebranded himself as a moderate leader, promising inclusion and reform. However, Haddad pointed to major contradictions between his words and actions. The Syrian Army and security services have been dissolved, leading to concerns over instability. Government positions have been filled by HTS loyalists, excluding secular and nationalist opposition. Additionally, the new military structure requires recruits to undergo Sharia law training, raising fears about the ideological direction of the new government.

Syria’s transition is also deeply shaped by regional and international power struggles. Haddad stressed that HTS could not have taken power without Turkey’s approval. Turkey, focused on containing Kurdish forces in northern Syria, has played a key role in shaping post-Assad politics. Meanwhile, the U.S. recently announced its military withdrawal from Syria, leaving Kurdish forces vulnerable to both HTS control and Turkish expansion. Qatar and other Gulf states are increasingly involved in shaping Syria’s economy and political trajectory.

Looking ahead, Haddad identified five critical challenges that will determine Syria’s future:

1. Sovereignty and territorial integrity – Can Syria reclaim full control of its territory, or will it remain influenced by foreign actors?
2. Inclusion and transparency – Will the new government allow for democratic participation, or will HTS consolidate power?
3. Economic recovery – Sanctions and economic devastation pose serious obstacles to stability.
4. Rule of law and governance – No clear roadmap exists for elections, legal institutions, or constitutional reforms.
5. Rebuilding and refugee return – Over five million Syrian refugees remain abroad, with no structured plan for their safe return.

While Assad’s downfall marks a historic moment, Syria’s future remains uncertain and fragile. Many Syrians who once celebrated the regime’s collapse now fear that HTS’s dominance will not bring real change. The gap between promised reforms and actual governance policies has fueled skepticism.