Islamism has imitated, or colluded with, the state autocracies it claims to oppose. It has failed to suggest its own answers to economic problems, social justice, education or corruption, writes Hicham Alaoui in Le Monde diplomatique. Click here to read the full article, which is based on research that Alaoui presented at UC Berkeley and CDDRL on October 10 and 11, respectively.

The republican tradition continues to frame French debates on empire, as it has done since the Revolution. French republicanism and Anglophone liberalism have shared numerous features in relation to empire: both are egalitarian traditions of moral universalism, and both uphold an ideal of political emancipation that has tended to entail assimilation to a European political model. This paper explores the course of French debates over empire from the period of Napoleon through the July Monarchy — the broader context for the thought of the iconic liberal republicans Constant and Tocqueville — with particular attention to the ways in which liberal and republican registers were deployed in both support and critique of empire, and to how the articulation of liberal and republican agendas in France was affected by the Algeria conquest. It also discusses the first Algerian contribution to French public deliberation about the conquest, Hamdan Khodja’s 1833 text Le Miroir, a work that self-consciously inhabited both a liberal cosmopolitan and a Muslim perspective and that was nearly alone in French debates in making a principled argument for Algerian.

Interview by Stephen Smith

This is translated from the French version that appeared in the French journal, Le Débat.

There is no one better able to provide a more informed perspective on the upheavals in the Arab world than Prince Moulay Hicham ben Abdallah El Alaoui. The first cousin of the King of Morocco, Mohammed VI, and heir to a long Pan-Arab line through his Lebanese mother, he is also a research fellow at Stanford University's Center on Democracy, Development, and the Rule of Law in California. In 1994, he established the Institute for the Transregional Study of the Contemporary Middle East, North Africa and Central Asia at Princeton University, where he went to college. He also directs the Foundation for Social Science Research on North Africa and the Middle East which bears his name. Born in Rabat in 1964, Moulay Hicham settled in the United States in 2002 for the reasons he explains below.

Stephen Smith. – You bring a number of qualifications to your views on the Arab world: as a member of the royal family of Morocco, as the "red prince" either loved or hated by the media, and also as a Stanford University researcher and sponsor of a research foundation focusing on North Africa and the Middle East. So tell us, on behalf of whom and in what role do you speak?

Moulay Hicham. – Nobody invents himself. I belong to Morocco's ruling family through my father, Moulay Abdallah Ben Mohammed El Alaoui, and I am very proud to be part of a monarchy that joined with the people to put an end to colonialism. Through my Lebanese mother, Lamia el-Solh, I belong to one of the Arab world's great nationalist families, a family planted across the entire region. But my "familiarity" with the Arab world does not come just from my parentage. After I finished Princeton, I pursued research on transitioning from authoritarianism to democracy. At present, I am a Consulting Professor at Stanford. In short, it’s a whole package. I grew up in the palace alongside my cousin, who became King Mohammed VI. I spoke up to King Hassan II very early on, while learning a great deal from him, and while accompanying my father – when he served as his brother’s personal representative– on diplomatic missions abroad. After my uncle died, I continued to maintain publicly that the Makhzen -- that is, the patronage network that effectively runs Morocco -- needed to perish for the monarchy to thrive and serve Moroccans. I also came out against the caliphate, that is, against a monarchy under the "Commander of the Faithful," which mixed political and religious prerogatives. I still believe and defend all of that, both because of what I am and because of what I have made of myself. Of course, no one is self-invented. But I am also the product of my journey and of my study. One can be whole, at least I hope so.

S. S. – What does the "Arab Spring" mean to you? And, for starters, is the right name being used?

M. H. – I'm not sure it is. I would rather talk about an "Arab Awakening," because spring is a season, thus ephemeral and cyclical. And I do not believe the Arab world can reverse course and go back to sleep. But no matter what term is used, we need to get rid of culturalist prejudices about "the Arabs” and ahistorical readings of Islam. Ever since Leibniz and, following him, Ernest Renan, spoke of the fatum mahometanum, we were not far from believing that an immutable form of despotism was built into the genes and religion of the Arab world. Good riddance! An oppressed Arab is first and foremost someone who, like any other oppressed person, seeks to become emancipated. Of course, we need be intellectually honest: if a tidal wave of democratization is breaking across the Arab world, we have to explain its relevance within the context. If it isn't "Arabness" mixed with Islam, what is it? I don't have a ready-made answer. No doubt, it's a cluster of factors, including a particular kind of political archaism/throwback arising, first, from colonization, followed by a decolonization defined by the "catastrophe" – the nakba – that was the establishment of Israel in Palestine; there is also an economy based on oil rents, which sharpen geopolitical rivalries and foster the betrayal of the elites. Add to that a generous helping of "Orientalism," and we're probably not far from a stew simmering until the lid blows.

S. S. –For some time, everybody has been eating humble pie about having spoken, in the past, about the "Arab street," a term one now sees as a mere culture-based prejudice. Isn't that paradoxical, right when so many Arabs are actually taking to the streets?

M. H. – Yes, it turns things on their head, but I can understand how people would be ready to abandon the cliché about the sleeping volcano that the "Arab street" was supposed to be. That’s true for us as well, who see the Arab street – al shariai al arabi – as the opposite extreme from the Rais, king, or omnipotent "sultan." The street now needs to turn into public forum -- that is, a public opinion that doesn't sweep away everything in its path, but rather expresses itself in a steady, organized fashion, because, henceforth, governments will have to take into account the will of the governed. To stick to the metaphor: the devastating flood must become a canal that irrigates democracy.

S. S. – For the time being, the street does not speak the language of institutional politics and expresses itself instead in the – moral – register of indignation. In concrete terms, how can "the Dignity Revolution" be achieved?

M. H. – Politics, for its part, needs its share of dreaming. When people want to create a new order, they don't use hackneyed words. The vocabulary of socialism and liberalism cannot convey the dream spilling into the streets of the Arab world – nor, in fact, can the language of religion, which is not the least we have learned from the events taking place since the start of the year. With these events, we enter the field of indignation or, rather, the of a dignity to be restored after a long series of degradations: endless reigns, predatory police states, trampled rights, and mock kingdoms, not to mention the doublespeak about the Palestinians, our favorite victims, whom our dictators have used as a pretext to turn around and victimize us. Dignity – karama – has become the new value to which we refer. What could be easier to understand? Of course you are right to say that taking to the streets over and over again is useless if these marches do not lead to the halls of power in the end. But how? In Tunisia, they are in the process of seeking the way, day by day. In Egypt, the army has joined the people, but we still don't know if it was to confiscate the Tahrir Square victory or bring it to completion. In Syria, demonstrators are confronting part of the armed forces, with the possibility of a widespread insurrection. In Morocco, the February 20 Movement – and it may not be by chance that the common denominator is limited to a date... –, the slogan "Freedom, dignity, social justice," and mobilizing "until all demands are met" need to move from speech to action, because telling the truth is not enough to bring about change.  Finally, Libya is a case apart and, I fear, will remain so, due in part to outside intervention. Is it possible to impose democracy manu militari, By external intervention, without, perforce, betraying the message of popular sovereignty being proclaimed?

This is a question that can no longer be ducked, ever since Iraq was invaded in 2003 under the banner of democracy as a corollary of regime change – however harmful the regime brought down under such circumstances. In Libya as in Iraq, this raises the issue of national unity. Unfortunately, bombing "Gaddafi's country" to turn it into a democracy, may well split Libya itself back into its three former components: Tripolitania to the west, Cyrenaica to the east and Fezzan in the great desert south.

S. S. – Through an extreme simplification harking back to Lenin's definition of communism in 1920's Russia as "Soviets plus electricity," the Arab Spring has been explained by the press as "social networks plus youth." So, first of all, what do social networks have to with a revolt for democracy?

M. H. – It is clear what reporters mean by that: the cyber-revolution would favor democracy because social networks are per se "democratic," allowing anyone to make connections while eluding the usual gatekeepers, starting with reporters themselves, and outwitting the censors. Only, it's not that easy. First, access to the Internet and, even more so, to social networks such as, for example, Facebook, is still far from universal in the Arab world. While 40% of Moroccans and a third of Tunisians have access to the Internet, only 21% do in Syria, with 10% in Yemen. A quarter of Tunisians use Facebook, but only 9% of Egyptians, and so few Syrians and Yemenis that they are statistically insignificant. Next, in particular, while digital media function "democratically," their content is not necessarily democratic – and nor, therefore, are the results of networking at the electronic speeds that dazzle all of us. Since 2009, Harvard University has been doing an in depth study on the Arab blogosphere – titled Mapping the Arabic Blogosphere: Politics, Culture, and Dissent – by indexing some 35,000 sites and examining 4,000 of them closely. The authors, in their conclusions, warn against the illusion of a "techno-democracy." For technology changes the rules of the game, but does not predetermine its winner. History is also instructive: nobody would claim that the telegraph lit the fuses all at once in Tunisia, Libya and Egypt in 1919, or that The Voice of the Arabs – the famous short wave radio station in Cairo – explains the Pan-Arabism of the 1960's. Technology merely served – efficiently – to relay Woodrow Wilson's fourteen points for "making the world safe for the democracy" in the first case, and in the second, Nasser's charisma. And nothing would have happened if local players had not seized upon the ideas of either of them.

S. S. – So new media are a condition rather than a cause. And what about youth or, more specifically, the age pyramid of a given population?

M. H. – A country's demographic profile is significant but, once again, things are not so simple. Contrary to what is being said and written pretty much everywhere, the Arab world's population – except for the Gaza Strip and Yemen – is not exceptionally young, at least not relative to populations south of the Sahara. So, if the number of young people – chebab – was in and of itself a condition favoring the advent of democracy, sub-Saharan Africa would be a paradise of the popular will. Of course, there is a large number of youth in the fifteen to thirty age group in the Arab world, the result of a very high birth rate until the end of the twentieth century that is now arriving on the job market – where it can't find work, at least not work of adequate quantity or quality. Yet the same age group is much larger in sub-Saharan Africa, where, let it be noted, the World Bank presents this profusion as a future "demographic bonus" – this after having promised a  “demographic gift” to the Arab world twenty years ago. However, no matter how precious this human capital may be in absolute terms, it only becomes a “gift” or “bonus” if it can become invested in a society. Which takes us back to governance. Without good governance, the young find themselves out of work or, worse, lapse into violence. While the young need democracy to thrive, it is not a given that democracy prospers in a country with a particularly young population. In fact, studies show pretty much the opposite: you need a certain demographic maturity for democracy not just to take hold, but to last over the long term. Tunisia has the structural advantage of being a country with a median age of twenty-nine. All other things being equal, Tunisia has a greater chance of becoming a lasting democracy than, let's say, Yemen, where the median age is only eighteen. For the simple reason that it is not easy to run institutions when eight out of ten inhabitants are under thirty and expect opportunities to “succeed” from their elders, who are few in number. Lastly, I would like to mention that the UNDP’s excellent reports on human development in the Arab world focused on three structural impediments: not just poor governance, but inappropriate education of our young and the – far from resolved – issue of the emancipation of women. In the present euphoria, let us not forget what we had already understood while the horizon was still gray.

S. S. – You just mentioned sub-Saharan Africa. Do you find it striking that commentators on the “Arab Spring” are far more likely to mention the revolutions of 1789 and 1848, or the fall of the Berlin Wall in 1989, rather than the democratization wave south of the Sahara twenty years ago, after the end of the Cold War?

M. H. – Any comparison can be enlightening. However, Westerners tend to seek parallels in their own history, which they continue to view as the universal model, and the Arabs, who readily complain about discrimination, would be offended to be told they were following Black Africa... However, history does not repeat itself. But it would be productive to ask why the end of the Cold War allowed the liberation of sub-Saharan Africa, but not the Arab world? The importance of petroleum? The shadow cast by the Israeli-Palestinian conflict? Whatever the reason, we have a lot to learn from democratization south of the Sahara. Political pluralism is often limited to reducing the number of single party states, so to speak, and only a handful of countries have become fully democratic, while pseudo-democracies prevail in most States, with presidents serving multiple terms and popular elections that are decided in advance. At the other end of the spectrum, a handful of countries have even experienced, after their spring of democracy, an autumn of restored authoritarianism.  It would be reckless to deny that there is also a risk of unfinished, and even wayward or misguided transitions in the Arab world. Finally, the sub-Saharan experience serves as a warning about the fable of the bad prince and the good people. It’s a fable. Democrats are few and far between, not only at the helm of our States, but in the opposition, parties, associations, and bases as well.

S. S. – Concerning geopolitics at the end of the Cold War: the “Arab Spring” is a odd assortment of homemade revolutions. Anything extending beyond borders tends to lose speed, from Pan-Arabism to Jihadism, not to mention the last hegemon which, for a long while, served as the greatest foil, namely America. Even the centrality of the Palestinian problem seems to be in doubt.

M. H. – The Palestinian issue will come galloping back and take center stage again, but not as the political toy, not to say diversion, it once was. This said, I agree that nationhood, while a product of colonization, is raising its standard. Literally, too, because people are demonstrating everywhere under their national colors. Although not as a chauvinist-type of nationalism but, rather, a patriotism reviving the social bond whittled away by decades of authoritarianism. They are “making” community, but not a Pan-Arab or a religion-based, borderless community, and even less so an international jihadist one. Ossama bin Laden was politically dead; the Americans didn’t need to kill him. Political Islam, however, is more complex: the fundamentalists’ purpose was to target the nation-state they and might someday find a way forward to participation, if a consensus were built around democratic rules. Many Islamists – in Tunisia, Egypt and no doubt also Morocco – understand perfectly well that nobody is looking for a new authoritarianism, and that what they have to offer needs to be adapted to the political market. Reconverting the Islamists will be all the easier because in order to resist repression, they have often joined social networks for solidarity. I don’t want to speculate idly, but it is not out of the question for the Arab world to experience a Muslim democracy, just as Europe experienced, and continues to experience, a Christian democracy.

S. S. – Meanwhile, the dustbin of history is filling up helter-skelter: Pan-Arabism, global jihad, a hypnotic fixation on the West...

M. H. – Not everything ends up in the dustbin, but it is true that “all-inclusive” projects no longer hold an appeal. Pan-Arabism is not dead. To wit: we are presently experiencing a democratic Pan-Arabism, both joyfully and painfully. But historical Pan-Arabism is now seen for what it was, that is, a quest for unanimism, and, therefore, a false quest for modernity. Nevertheless, let us not forget the contexts in which past ideologies emerged. Pan-Arabism was a response to colonialism’s dividing to conquer, just as, later on, petroleum served as an economic weapon for resisting the dictates of the Cold War. Lastly, borderless jihadism in its Al-Qaeda guise, and what I would call the “Occidentalism” of the Arab world, were also branded by a dialectics of enclosure. Orientalism caricatured us – so we caricatured back. As for Ossama bin Laden’s jihad, would it have taken on the same dimensions if the Global War on Terrorism – George W. Bush’s GWOT – had not turned it into something larger than life? I believe these are legitimate questions that we can now ask.  But, in any case, we are no longer wedged between the authoritarian anvil, on the one hand, and the Islamist or American hammer, on the other. The Arab world has a triple liberation in its sights. It is no longer alienated by Al-Qaeda's terrorism or the political agenda of the neo-conservatives, who have lost their power in Washington. The Arab world has also begun to rid itself of its autocrats and, paradoxically, it is finally able to acknowledge that foreign domination may not have been so much the cause as, to a great extent, the consequence of its weakness.

S. S. – You have already alluded to that: the armed forces are playing a central role in bringing democracy to the Arab world.

M. H. – Indeed. However, there are a multitude of possible outcomes. First, is there any army capable of influencing the course of events? In Tunisia, the army, compared to the Ministry of the Interior and its 155,000 agents, looked like a lightweight. Next, the army needs to be either professional, consist of conscripts, or backed up by paramilitary units, each of which would lead to radically different outcomes. In Egypt, a nineteenth century witticism about Prussia raises the question of whether it is a state with an army, or an army with a state. In any case, the Egyptian army is also an important economic player. The wheeling and dealing of its top officers will affect the on-going transition. In Syria, the Republican Guard, on the front lines against the protestors, is dominated by Alaouites, that is, by the minority in power, unlike the rest of the Army, whose composition reflects the majority in the Syrian population, over three quarters of whom are Sunni. Finally, in several Arab countries, the army is not one institution among others, to which a new role could easily be attributed in place of its old one. I am thinking, for example, of Algeria, as well as Jordan. In both cases, the army is an historical component of the state. One cannot be conceived of without the other. It is a given that they form an indivisible whole. Obviously, that complicates the equation.

S. S. – Is this why until now Algeria has remained on the sidelines of the present movement?

M. H. – Probably, but there are at the least two other strong reasons. First, the nine years of bloody civil war, between 1992 and 2001, remain piercingly fresh in everyone's memory – after that kind of shared trauma, you don't take risks. Second, as in most countries of the Arabian peninsula, petroleum money plays a buffer role. Petrodollars are a way to pay off discontent, at least in part, for a certain time. Until when? You're quite right to specify "for the time being."

S. S. – In non-petroleum producing countries, the major stumbling block is the economy. To the protestors, democracy epitomizes prosperity. The "Arab awakening" you mentioned earlier is likely to be hard.

M. H. – Right, because the link between public liberties and economic performance is not one of cause and effect, even though I think that in the end only economic actors freed from repressive constraints can and will want to give their best. However, in the short-term, the upheaval of the old order and the ferment peculiar to transitions will inevitably disrupt economic life. Tourists go elsewhere and investors remain on the sidelines while waiting for things to sort themselves out. At the same time, a rise in openly expressed demands weighs on the costs of production. Finally, you have to be realistic relative to the discourse of the industrialized countries. Not only has their support of democratization of the Arab world sometimes been hesitant but, in addition, it will remain verbal. There will be no equivalent to a Marshall Plan. In the midst of a financial crisis, when 20,000 Tunisian refugees were all it took for the Schengen area to close in on itself, what Western office-holder is going to risk making austerity worse in his or her country to promote Arab democracy? I would add, in all sincerity, that I am only halfway sorry about it, if at all. For our countries, this is a blessing in disguise, that is, an unintended benefit. As long as our institutional capabilities remain limited, a "democracy premium" would produce the same effect as any other source of income: it would feed corruption. In fact, this is the only thing I don't want to see democratized... Egypt, which has received forty billion dollars from the Americans since 1978 as a "separate peace dividend”, is a good illustration of my fears.

S. S. – In your country, Morocco, you are more than a committed observer. You are part of the problem. Do you also hope to be part of solution, or even the solution itself?

M. H. – Neither. Besides, I don't really see how I could be part of the problem, except for having earlier raised the issues which are now out in the open, while it would still have been easy to solve them. After Hassan II's death, I told Mohammed VI with all the sincerity my affection for him demanded, that real change was necessary, that modernizing the Makhzen was not enough. Since then, I have only seen the King, my cousin, twice, for strictly family events, where our exchanges have remained courteous and distant, as required by the circumstances. Politically, I am persona non grata at the palace.  I'm not complaining. I said what I had to say, but I was not heard by either Mohammed VI or by those information handlers who presented him as the "king of the poor" while dubbing me the "red prince." Better to just laugh about it! So I took some distance by moving with my family to the United States, and I congratulate myself every day for making a decision that has allowed me to achieve a lot both professionally and personally. Besides, and this is fundamental for me and my wife, it allows our children to grow up in an open, free environment. In short, I am not a problem to anyone at all, or at least I shouldn't be. For my part, I don’t have a problem with anybody. This also answers your imputation that I should see myself as the solution. No, not at all. If there is a solution, it is up to the Moroccans to find it together. In this regard -- that is, as citizen Hicham ben Abdallah -- I won't deprive myself of contributing what I can, to the best of my abilities. But I do not believe that democratizing Morocco has any special need of a prince. Just as I've also come to the conclusion that I’m in the King’s way, so I keep my distance. To be perfectly clear: I believe that involving myself more directly would be a disservice to democracy in my country, because, at this stage, it would add to the confusion. But I claim total freedom of expression, without any red lines I shouldn't cross. We'll see whether either the king or the February 20 Movement will complain about it.

S. S. – Since the subject has come up, let's get down to brass tacks: how do you view Mohammed VI's constitutional reform, which was adopted by referendum on July 1st, by 98% of those voting, with a 72% participation rate?

M. H. – Let's look at it from the right side:  I have no doubt that the constitutional reform proposed by the King was adopted by the great majority of Moroccans. Duly noted. That said, 98% "yes" votes and a 72% participation rate -- that is, almost double the previous election --is simply not credible. We'd hoped that the "score-making" machine had been mothballed once and for all, but it's back at full tilt: people were herded into buses, they were driven to the polls like electoral livestock and, to make sure they clearly understood what was expected of them, they had a sermon, dictated by the Ministry of Islamic Affairs, crammed into their heads in the mosques on Friday, June 25 – unheard of, even back in the days of Hassan II and his Minister of the Interior and grand master of referenda, the late Driss Basri! The kingdom's largest Sufi brotherhood, the Zaouiya Boutchichia, was mustered, and, just as disturbingly, so were gangs of young hooligans who were tasked with creating sometimes violent "counter-demonstrations." In short, if a progressive kind of democratization was the goal, and if – as I believe– a majority of Moroccans were ready to go along with this proposal, why turn a citizen referendum into a populist beiya (allegiance)? The modus operandi belied the purported objective. The Makhzen, cautiously hanging onto its privileges, abused the popular vote to establish a "party of order," that is, a rampart behind which to seek shelter. But that is a petty solution. The sacredness of the monarchy, while no longer written into the new Constitution, is reaffirmed in spirit in its most retrograde form in practices from another age. The result is twofold, and twice as destructive: on the one hand, the fears of the majority – the fear of losing their livelihood, of being alienated in a globalizing country with new and disturbing mores, particularly among the young... – were kindled, while the point was to create hope and confidence in a better future; on the other hand, the February 20 Movement can only harden its positions and may well find itself shoved into the arms of the extra-parliamentary Al Adl Wal Ihsan (Justice and Charity) Association Islamists. Besides, since Sunday July 3, the refuseniks of the Moroccan street have started marching again, by the thousands, under the slogan «Mamfakinch» (we will not let go).

S. S. – The King allowed democratic measures to be included in the new Constitution while feigning they were not conceded under pressure. Who is he kidding? And, as a matter of fact, is that enough?

M. H. – I don't think there was any intention to deceive anyone, but I fear the King may have fooled himself. People in Morocco, particularly members of the propertied classes, wonder if, with the vote, they can hold their own. As for me, I have interest in any reform completely lacking any enlightened, sincere intent, beyond seeking a short-term advantage, to move towards parliamentary monarchy. Some – very narrow –measures were put in place: a new title for the Prime Minister, who will henceforth be the "head" of a government which the King will continue to appoint and dismiss as he pleases; a number of "councils" were created, all controlled by the monarch, thus completing his "NGO-ization" of the Moroccan State, thus multiplying appointments with which to co-opt the members of both the political class and civil society; finally, a whole raft of "rights" were included in the Constitution, which will have to await their implementing orders, but will frequently prove, in actual practice, to be unenforceable. For example: while article 36 of the new constitution "prohibited" conflicts of interests and the abuse of office, do you really think the members of Mohammed VI's inner circle, whose names are regularly booed in the streets, are going to lose their incomes and positions, when the royal holding alone pulls in 8% of the Moroccan GDP? The Constitution might as well state that Makhzen is no longer the etymological root of the French word "magasin [store]" – which would be just as absurd. In this regard, we may well witness one predation layered upon another, if the new Prime Minister takes his new autonomy to the limits by seeking to insert his own clients into key state positions. In short, we could find ourselves with a street stall set up alongside the big "store."

S. S. – But if the King hasn't given up anything essential, why would he be mistaken? From his point of view, he remains in control of the country, while you acknowledge yourself that the protest movement is struggling to move from the street into the seats of power.

M. H. – First, allow me to clearly state how much sympathy and respect I have for the February 20 Movement. The young people who launched it are prophets of the people, because they are openly proclaiming the truth. Acknowledging that this is not enough to improve the daily lot of most people is not disparaging of them. It is just a reminder that a statement is not an act, saying is not doing. Something else to keep in mind is the experience of the Moroccan movida at the start of "M6's" reign, when greater freedom of speech in a new independent press made a nice illusion for a while. There's not much left. After the intoxication, the toxic. Nowadays, several protagonists from that period, such as Boubker Jamaï, Ali Lmrabet, and Ahmed Benchemsi, comment on events from abroad, where they now live. Next, while the King has ceded almost nothing to the popular sovereignty, he has ceded the essential where national unity is concerned. For a long time, I have been strongly in favor of recognizing Morocco's Berber culture. I believe richness lies in diversity. But this constitutional reform has institutionalized the fragmentation of the Moroccan State. The King attempted to innovate, and perhaps also to give assurances of openness by acknowledging the Berber language and Hassania, the language of the Sahrawi. But the text that was adopted has ended up twisting the cultural demands as well as the regional framework for localized democratization by creating a political market for identity brand selling. Are we really, over a half century after Independence, going to recreate the 1930 "Berber dahir," that sought to infect the Moroccan people with the seed of division? Morocco is not an American-style melting-pot, it's a big couscous where everything can be tossed in. However, the new provisions, which have been taken lightly, may spoil the national dish. When you leave certain ingredients out, the whole dish loses its richness.

S. S. – Earlier, you went as far as saying that Mohammed VI had erred to his own disadvantage. How so?

M. H. – The King has implicitly acknowledged the failure of the "executive monarchy" he set up at the beginning of his reign twelve years ago. The trade-off of a technocratic promise of top management performance against the further weakening of an already anemic political class has run its course. But who will now "inhabit" the new areas set up in the name of democratizing the system? The same political class, reduced more than ever to shadow theater? This is a fundamental contradiction: to win his gamble on renewal, Mohammed VI is counting on collecting the I.O.U.s from those for whom he’s done favors.  How could such people conceivably build a new institutional framework? And if, extraordinarily, they should manage to, their success would prove the king's failure at two essential levels. On the one hand, they would be proving they can manage the economy better than Mohammed VI and his inner circle, and that the royal "store" should close shop. On the other, they would be demonstrating that a new era of human rights is possible without repressing the Islamists, without the Temara torture center denounced by Amnesty International and Human Rights Watch, without the silent renditions of those presumed foreign terrorists whom Morocco has received entirely illegally as a favor to George W. Bush, who turned the Commander of the Faithful into the jailer of his fellow Muslim believers. In short, the new Constitution may help the Makhzen save some time, but the country will surely be the loser. Because, sooner or later, it is likely to turn against Mohammed VI.

S. S. – Since you have started making predictions, what future do you foresee for the "Arab Spring" as a whole?

M. H. – If this year has taught us just one thing, it's to be properly humble about our predictions... But I'm not trying to duck your perfectly legitimate question. So, first, I think the whole Arab world has just rounded a corner, maybe even passed a point of no return. Even if there is authoritarian regression, nothing will go back to the way it used to be. Next, I think we can identify three geographic and geopolitical areas – the Gulf States, the Near East and North Africa – provided we don't start seeing them as fatalistically-determined communities. And since we were just on the subject of North Africa, let's start there, where any outcome is possible. I think, for instance, that Tunisia has a real chance of managing a breakthrough to become the first Arab democracy. From a demographic, sociological and political point of view, all the conditions are there – which doesn't mean it's guaranteed. I am equally optimistic that Morocco will eventually become progressively democratized. On the other hand, Egypt runs the risk of a "frozen" transformation at some stage. As for Algeria, I'll admit I don't foresee anything besides a status quo, even though everybody knows it is untenable. And I am frankly pessimistic about Libya. It risks becoming a failed state, and was already fairly "Bedouin" under Gaddafi.

S. S. – What about the Gulf States?

M. H. – In their case, their common traits give them advantages: petroleum money, which disconnects the state from its citizens and makes them into dependents the weakness of civil society in spite of having a middle class; the high number of immigrants who do the basic work of the economy, at the lowest cost; and, finally, the lack of significant geopolitical pressure for democratization, thanks to their supply of petroleum. All of these conditions come together to smother any aspiration for greater freedom under a cozy down comforter. As the situation plays out, I expect the Arabian Gulf States will be the least affected by the great movement now taking place.

S. S. – Is that also the case for the Middle East, for other reasons, that is, because it is located in the eye of the storm?

M. H. – I don't think so. Anything can happen in the Middle East, especially in Iran and, even more so, in Iraq, where the state shaped under the American occupation – a state dominated by former exiles and ethnic marketing entrepreneurs – is corroded and corrupt to the extreme. Will this regime collapse? Are the American troops going to leave? And when? Everything is on the table. On the other hand, there are further determining factors in the Middle East. Pressure towards democratization has already led to a reconciliation agreement between Hamas and Fatah, although this agreement has yet to be put into action. Nonetheless, it is a given that the Palestinians, particularly the ones on the West Bank, are the ready-made pioneers of Arab democracy, thanks to their education and their – forced – openness to the world. But in absence of political freedom, under Israel's iron rule, only their institutional capabilities can be seen. Finally, almost five million Palestinian refugees living scattered about the Arab world have everything to hope from a democratization of their host countries. It still would not be the long-awaited "return" but, nevertheless, democracy would make adopting their second homelands more palatable.

S. S. – In which case Israel would lose its regional monopoly on democracy...

M. H. – It's almost a given. And we can wonder how the United States, in particular, will go about repositioning themselves in a strategic region with a multiplicity of partnerships available to them, without the opprobrium of supporting dictatorships. Of course, there will always be the pro-Israeli lobby in America to consider, which will endeavor to tip the scales to the detriment of the Arab democracies. But it will no longer be the same. All the less so, because Israel, under Benyamin Netanyahu’s frankly narrow-minded leadership, is on the verge of missing the boat. The current government continues to reason in terms of "peace between regimes" rather than "peace between people." Instead of making overtures to Arab public opinions – a term which henceforth needs to be in the plural –, the Israeli authorities are hunkering down while waiting for new Arab leaders to emerge, whom they hope to approach like the old ones. Speaking on behalf of the Israeli opposition, the centrist Tzipi Livni has publicly expressed regret about their short-sightedness. The "Arab Spring’s" window of opportunity could well close again without the Arab people having understood the interest of an historical compromise with Israel within a context of shared civil liberties. Nobody should complain later on if an anti-Israeli populism grabs the “pot” so rashly left there for it to snatch.

The toppling of Egypt's modern-day pharaoh through peaceful mass protests, aided by Facebook and Twitter, marks a watershed for Egypt and the entire Arab world. Contrary to widespread anxieties in the U.S. foreign policy establishment, it will also serve the long-term interests of the United States - and Israel.

Many analysts of Egypt have been warning for years that the status quo under Hosni Mubarak was not sustainable. A repressive and deeply corrupt dictatorship was sitting on top of a social volcano - an increasingly young, urbanized, digitally connected population seething over the lack of freedom, dignity and economic opportunity. A quarter of Egypt's working-age youth are unemployed and many more under-employed. Over the past two decades, average incomes in Egypt stagnated while they doubled or tripled elsewhere in the region.

Think of what could have happened. Many observers (including myself) worried that the growing alienation of young Egyptians might flow in anti-American, anti-Israeli and radical Islamist directions. The inevitable eruption could have turned violent, resulting in the kind of bloody suppression that gripped Algeria in the early 1990s, when 200,000 died. Or it might have been hijacked by radical Islamists who would ride the popular revolution to power, as in Iran in 1979.

So far, none of these have happened. The millions of Egyptians who have poured into the streets of Cairo and other cities have not been chanting "down with America," nor have their protests been about Israel (or the Palestinians). Rather, they want freedom, justice and accountability in Egypt. They have mobilized for democratic change with extraordinary discipline, imagination and moderation. In the face of killings, provocations, arrests and torture, they have adhered to nonviolence as a sacred principle.

In achieving the first condition for Egypt's liberation, the departure of the pharaoh, through peaceful grassroots mobilization, a huge chip has been lifted from their shoulders. Now Egyptians feel a new sense of pride, confidence and empowerment. And they are beginning to view the United States in a fresh and more hopeful light, not because of President Obama's Cairo Speech in 2009 but because of what he said and subtly did in the last two weeks (after several rhetorical blunders by some in his administration). As the mass protests grew, Obama aligned the United States more explicitly behind the goal of peaceful democratic change, warned the regime against the use of force, and urged Mubarak to step aside. The experience could mark a turning point not just for Egypt but for Barack Obama personally. He now has the chance to nurture democratic change in the Arab world through artful diplomacy and timely assistance, where George W. Bush failed with blunter rhetoric and means.

Israel as well should be reassured by developments so far. Egypt's new (and hopefully temporary) military junta has quickly reaffirmed the country's treaty obligations. Few protesters are calling for abrogation of Egypt's peace with Israel. Most protesters resent Israel's treatment of the Palestinians and want an independent Palestinian state, but mainly they want to transform their own country politically and economically. They know their aspirations for human dignity and economic opportunity can only be met with far-reaching internal reforms, and that the worn-out theme of anti-Zionism is a divergence from that. Israel and its friends should thus welcome democratic change in Egypt. The only way to guarantee a lasting Middle East peace is to root negotiated agreements in the same democratic legitimacy that undergirds the stability and resilience of Israel's political system. As Thomas Friedman recently observed, it is a better bet to make peace with 82 million people than with one man.

The challenge now is to ensure that Egypt's revolution produces a genuine pluralist democracy. This is far from assured.

Egypt's military rulers may well seek to sabotage the transition and restore the old order with a slightly more democratic façade. Or the Muslim Brotherhood (which rejects violent means but clings to Islamist political ends) could gain the upper hand in popular mobilization or elections. But the second scenario will be much more likely to follow, rather than prompt, the first. If a democratic transition unfolds seriously and peacefully through negotiations and reform, and if democratic institutions are well designed, the Muslim Brotherhood will be a significant but minority player.

For Egypt, Mubarak's fall is only the first step along a tortuous path. If its transition leads to democracy, it will produce a much more reliable partner for peace and progress in the Middle East. That is why other democracies in the world should support it in every way possible.

Two decades after the fall of Soviet-bloc dictatorships, popular movements for democracy are erupting in the last regional bastion of authoritarianism: the Arab world.

So far, only Tunisia's dictator, Zine el-Abidine Ben Ali, has been toppled, while Egypt's President Hosni Mubarak - who has ruled that ancient land longer than many pharaohs - announced Tuesday that he will step down in September. But other Arab autocrats are bound to go. From Algeria to Syria to Jordan, people are fed up with stagnation and injustice, and are mobilizing for democratic change.

So, what happens when the autocrat is gone? Will the end of despotism give way to chaos - as happened when Mobutu Sese Seko was toppled in 1997 after more than 30 years in power in Zaire? Will the military or some civilian strongman fill the void with a new autocracy - as occurred after the overthrow of Arab monarchs in Egypt and Iraq in the 1950s, and as has been the norm in most of the world until recently? Or can some of the Arab nations produce real democracy - as we saw in most of Eastern Europe and about half the states of sub-Saharan Africa? Regime transitions are uncertain affairs. But since the mid-1970s, more than 60 countries have found their way to democracy. Some have done so in circumstances of rapid upheaval that offer lessons for reformers in Tunisia, Egypt and other Arab countries today.

Unite the democratic opposition.

When a dictatorship is on the ropes, one thing that can rescue it is a divided opposition. That is why autocrats so frequently foster those divisions, secretly funding a proliferation of opposition parties. Even extremely corrupt rulers may generate significant electoral support - not the thumping majorities they claim, but enough to steal an election - when the opposition is splintered.

In the Philippines in 1986, Nicaragua in 1990 and Ukraine in 2004, the opposition united around the candidacies of Corazon Aquino, Violeta Chamorro and Viktor Yushchenko, respectively. Broad fronts such as these - as well as the Concertacion movement that swept Christian Democrat Patricio Aylwin to power in Chile in 1989 after the departure of Gen. Augusto Pinochet - often span deep personal and ideological differences. But the time for democratic forces to debate those matters is later, once the old order is defeated and democratic institutions have been established.

Egypt is fortunate - it has an obvious alternative leader, Mohamed ElBaradei, whom disparate opposition elements seem to be rallying around. Whether the next presidential election is held on schedule in September or moved up, ElBaradei, or anyone like him leading a broad opposition front, will probably win a resounding victory over anyone connected to Mubarak's National Democratic Party.

Make sure the old order really is gone.

The exit of a long-ruling strongman, such as Ben Ali, does not necessarily mean the end of a regime. Fallen dictators often leave behind robust political and security machines. No autocrat in modern times met a more immediate fate than Romania's Nicolae Ceausescu, who was executed by a firing squad of his own soldiers in 1989 just three days after a popular revolution forced him to flee the capital. Yet his successor, Ion Iliescu, was a corrupt former communist who obstructed political reform. Most of the former Soviet states, such as Georgia and Kazakhstan, had similar experiences.

Countries are much more likely to get to democracy quickly if they identify and embrace political leaders who are untainted by the old order and are ready to roll it back.

But also come to an understanding with the old order.

Victorious democrats won't be able to completely excise the pillars of the authoritarian order. Instead, for their country to turn toward democracy, those pillars must be neutralized or co-opted. This old order may descend into violence when, as in Iraq, broad classes of elites are stigmatized and ousted from their positions. In a successful bargain, most old-regime elites retain their freedom, assets and often their jobs but accept the new rules of the democratic game.

Unless the military collapses in defeat, as it did in Greece in 1974 and in Argentina after the Falklands War, it must be persuaded to at least tolerate a new democratic order. In the short run, that means guaranteeing the military significant autonomy, as well as immunity from prosecution for its crimes. Over time, civilian democratic control of the military can be extended incrementally, as was done masterfully in Brazil in the 1980s and in Chile during the 1990s. But if the professional military feels threatened and demeaned from the start, the transition is in trouble.

The same principle applies to surviving elements of the state security apparatus, the bureaucracy and the ruling party. In South Africa, for example, old-regime elements received amnesty for their human rights abuses in exchange for fully disclosing what they had done. In this and other successful transitions, top officials were replaced, but most state bureaucrats kept their jobs.

Rewrite the rules.

A new democratic government needs a new constitution, but it can't be drawn up too hastily. Meanwhile, some key provisions can be altered expeditiously, either by legislation, interim executive fiat or national consensus.

In Spain, the path to democratization was opened by the Law for Political Reform, adopted by the parliament within a year of dictator Francisco Franco's death in 1975. Poland adopted a package of amendments in 1992, only after it had elected a new parliament and a new president, Lech Walesa; a new constitution followed in 1997. South Africa enacted an interim constitution to govern the country while it undertook an ambitious constitution-writing process with wide popular consultation - which is the ideal arrangement.

An urgent priority, though, is to rewrite the rules so that free and fair elections are possible. This must happen before democratic elections can be held in Egypt and Tunisia. In transitions toward democracy, there is a strong case for including as many political players as possible. This requires some form of proportional representation to ensure that emerging small parties can have a stake in the new order, while minimizing the organizational advantage of the former ruling party. In the 2005 elections in Iraq, proportional representation ensured a seat at the table for smaller minority and liberal parties that could never have won a plurality in individual districts.

Isolate the extremes.

That said, not everyone can or should be brought into the new democratic order. Prosecuting particularly venal members of a former ruling family, such as those tied to the Philippines' Ferdinand Marcos, Indonesia's fallen strongman Suharto or now Tunisia's Ben Ali, can be part of a larger reconciliation strategy. But the circle of punishment must be drawn narrowly. It may even help the transition to drive a wedge between a few old-regime cronies and the bulk of the establishment, many of whom may harbor grievances against "the family."

A transitional government should aim for inclusion, and should test the democratic commitment of dubious players rather than inadvertently induce them to become violent opponents. However, groups that refuse to renounce violence as a means of obtaining power, or that reject the legitimacy of democracy, have no place in the new order. That provision was part of the wisdom of the postwar German constitution.

Transitions are full of opportunists, charlatans and erstwhile autocrats who enter the new political field with no commitment to democracy. Every democratic transition that has endured - from Spain and Portugal to Chile, South Africa and now hopefully Indonesia - has tread this path.

Fragile democracies become stable when people who once had no use for democracy embrace it as the only game in town.

The toppling of a brutal, corrupt, and long-ruling dictator, Zine el Abidine ben Ali, is an extraordinary achievement for the diverse elements of Tunisian society who came out into the streets in recent weeks to demand change. Ben Ali's startling fall is another reminder of how suddenly political change can come in authoritarian regimes that substitute force, fear, and fraud for legitimacy. Such regimes may appear stable for very long periods of time, but when the people lose their fear and the army refuses to fire on the people, they can unravel very quickly.

Unfortunately, the demise of a dictator does not guarantee the rise of a democracy in its place.  Historically, most authoritarian regimes have given way to a new (and often only slightly reconstituted) autocracy. This has been the principle pattern not only in the successor states to the Soviet Union, but in much of Africa since independence, and in numerous states in Asia and Latin America historically as well. In the Middle East, the odds against a successful democratic transition are particularly long, since there have hardly been any (outside Turkey and Israel) since the end of colonial rule. In Iran in 1979, a popular uprising against a long-serving dictator led not to democracy but rather to an even more odious and murderous form of oppression.

 If Tunisia is to defy the odds, it will need a significant period of time to reform the corrupt rules and institutions of the authoritarian regime and create an open, pluralistic society and party system that is capable of structuring democratic competition. Even if elections for a successor government are pushed out to six months, rather than sixty days, it is highly unlikely that this will provide sufficient time to create even a minimally fair and functional democratic playing field. 

Think of the many components of a democratic election, and Tunisia today is far from having them in place. After decades of fixed and phony elections, Tunisia needs a complete overhaul of its electoral machinery: a new and impartial electoral administration, a new electoral register, and perhaps as well a new electoral system. An energetic program of civic education should help Tunisians understand not only the mechanics of a democratic electoral process but also the underlying norms, rights, and responsibilities of democratic citizenship. This is a long process, but from Poland to Chile to South Africa, civil society organizations have shown that much can be accomplished to lay the foundations for popular democratic awareness and capacity if the models, materials, and resources are made available, and if there is a decent interval of time and political space to do the work. Doing this work-and enabling political parties and candidates to convey their messages-also requires a new and more pluralistic media environment. State control of the electronic and print media must be radically refashioned.  Privately owned media must be allowed to form and function, and critics of the old order must be allowed to enter the arena of ownership.

An effective democratic election requires not just freedom of opposition parties to organize, but time, resources, and training for them to form-or reform-and develop some ability to perform the essential functions of modern parties:  to establish what they stand for, to develop programmatic agendas, to elect leaders and recruit candidates, to forge ties with constituencies, and to survey public opinion and respond with appropriate messages. Trade unions, business chambers, and other civic groups need time as well to purge themselves of corrupting ties to the old order, or form anew, cultivate their natural constituencies, and build an authentic civil society.  Independent think tanks and public opinion surveys can also help to structure and enrich an emergent democratic process, but they as well need time and resources to function effectively.

Free and fair elections-especially in a context where they have never taken place before-also require extensive preparations for domestic monitoring and international observation, so that fraud can be detected and deterred, honest mistakes can be exposed and corrected, and public confidence can be generated in the new procedures.

Many of these tasks are ongoing after a successful transition to democracy, and setting too ambitious an agenda for reform could risk waiting indefinitely and squandering the opportunity for democratic change. But one of the most common reasons for failed transitions is a rush to early national elections and a failure to prepare the ground adequately for a fair and meaningful contest. Two common consequences of hurried elections are chaos or renewed autocracy, as some portions of the old order rally behind a new figure or old party and win by hook or crook. 

Unfortunately, there are also risks in waiting too long. Democratic energy in society can dissipate.  If (putative) democratic forces enter into a broad-based transitional government, as is now happening in Tunisia, they risk being corrupted or tainted with the stench of the old order if they hang around for too long, sharing some authority and stature but no real power. A prolonged transitional period can also give authoritarian forces time to regroup, purge the worst elements, present cosmetic changes, divide and confuse the opposition, and return to power under the guise of a pseudo-democracy. That is why it is important that opposition figures in Tunisia insist on a serious program of institutional and possibly constitutional reform during the transitional period, with extensive public dialogue and broad popular participation, so that interim rule is not a stagnant pause but rather a dynamic historical moment that engages and mobilizes public opinion for real democratic change. The risks of delay could also be reduced if a non-partisan, technocratic figure, not associated with the Ben Ali's political machine, could be tapped to lead the interim government, and if the political opposition could unify to negotiate strong conditions for the period of interim rule, including basic freedoms, an end to censorship, and removal of Ben Ali loyalists from the cabinet.

There is an important role for international actors at this seminal moment in Tunisian history. Like peoples throughout the Middle East and other post-colonial spaces, Tunisians are understandably wary of foreign intervention. After a quarter-century of lavish Western (especially French) aid and political comfort to Ben Ali, Tunisians will no doubt cast a suspicious eye on grants, statements and actions that purport to now, suddenly, want to build democracy in Tunisia. But Tunisians may welcome limited and specific steps if they are transparent and taken in careful consultation with diverse elements of Tunisia's civil society and historic opposition. 

Fortunately, Tunisia has many liberal and democratic figures in business, intellectual, cultural, and civic life who understand what liberal democracy is and would like to see it emerge in Tunisia. And it has other distinct advantages. It is a relatively small country in size and population, which makes some of the tasks of institution building and promotion of democratic norms a bit easier. Educational levels are relatively high, and there is a significant infrastructure of a middle class society. The security forces seem to be divided, and it appears the army refused to fire on peaceful protestors-a very positive precedent. Without blood on its hands from the recent violence, the army is better poised than other elements of state security to guarantee a process of democratic change, if its leadership comes down in favor of it (for whatever reason). And in contrast to Algeria, Egypt, or Jordan, Islamists do not seem to have strong public support. Thus, it is difficult for the forces of the ancien regime to manipulate public fears of radical Islam (or of disorder that the old elites themselves covertly generate) in order to discredit liberalism as naïve and ride back to power. 

It is vital that Europe and the United States not fall again for the specter of disorder or an Islamist surge, but rather insist on genuine democratic reforms, and tie future aid and geopolitical support to this. The US and EU should hold forth the prospect of Tunisia achieving a special and potentially transformative status in economic relations if it negotiates the path to become the first Arab democracy of this era. At the same time, they should threaten to institute targeted travel and financial sanctions against diehard defenders of the old order who frustrate or sabotage a democratic transition, or who use violence against peaceful demonstrators.  These kinds of prospective inducements, positive and negative, can help to tip the balance in the calculations of a lot of elites from outside the Ben Ali "family" but who were part of the Ben Ali regime and must now be wondering where their own interests lie. To complement the necessary private messages, the US ambassador (and others representing democracies in Tunis) should stand up publicly for democratic reforms, embrace democratic reformers, support new democratic initiatives with small grants, and warn old regime elites against repression.

In the coming weeks and months, American and European democracy foundations and aid organizations, along with the United Nations and its political assistance programs in the UNDP, can do a lot-transparently, and in consultation with Tunisian society-to train and support the emerging infrastructure of democracy in the state administration, political parties, and civil society. The funding required to make a difference is not large in absolute terms, and it should be a priority. Time is of the essence, and more flexible instruments, like USAID's Office of Transition Initiatives, should be tapped to activate assistance quickly.        

History-and the grim realities of pervasive authoritarianism in what is known in the political science discipline as a "bad neighborhood"-do not justify a high degree of optimism about the prospects for democracy in Tunisia. Yet the third wave of global democratization is replete with instances of successful democratization in even more unlikely circumstances. The speed with which the Tunisian protests mushroomed in a few weeks from a lone act of self-sacrifice to a national uprising, and the intensity with which this uprising has resonated in nearby countries, shows the pent-up demand for democratic change in the Arab world. If that demand can be directed toward pursuit of concrete institutional reform, with timely international support, the Jasmine Revolution could surprise again, by giving birth to the first Arab democracy of our time.

It took just 29 days for President Zine El Abidine Ben Ali to flee Tunisia after mass protests erupted in the country.  Twenty-three years of authoritarian rule crumbling in less than a month is rather remarkable, especially considering the relative “calm” that had prevailed in Tunisia during those two decades.

Tunisia rarely hit the headlines then. No Islamists threatening to overtake the government (the Islamist al-Nahda party was outlawed in 1991). No terrorist networks causing security concerns (the exception being the sole attack on a synagogue in 2002 which catalyzed stepped up security measures). No strategic interests for the USA to speak of. And Ben Ali’s regime succeeded in marketing Tunisia as a safe tourist haven. Cities like Hammamet allowed tourists to be parachuted into newly built all-inclusive resorts that could have been anywhere in the world. There was even a custom-built, sanitized version of a traditional medinah in Yasmine Hammamet, which reminded one more of the artificiality of the world landmarks in Las Vegas than of real North African souks.

Tunisia’s sanitized image was also due to a severe crackdown on freedom of expression, as the country had one of the highest levels of media control—especially of the internet—in the world.

But what Ben Ali’s flight showed is how fragile the foundations of his rule were. So vulnerable that, in contrast to Iran and Egypt’s leaders’ resilience in the face of mass protests, he quickly offered one concession after another before completely giving up, making it clear that he was in fear for his life.

What will happen next in Tunisia is uncertain. The Tunisian opposition is divided into groups with wildly different agendas, from the Islamists of al-Nahda to the secular reformists of the Congress for the Republic headed by Moncef Marzouki. There is no political figure who can be clearly envisaged to become the next Tunisian president, and the way the balance will tip—will there be democracy, or another authoritarian regime of a merely different kind?—is unpredictable. But the clearest lessons that have emerged from Tunisia so far are that there is a real democratic potential in the Arab world and that authoritarian regimes in the region are not always what they appear to be. Those lessons are important on two fronts:

On the foreign policy front, the Tunisian uprising seems to have catalyzed US Secretary of State Hillary Clinton to make the US administration’s boldest verbal statement thus far on the need for reform in the Arab world. Describing the political order of some Arab countries as “stagnant”, Clinton, on a visit to Bahrain on January 13, said that “This is a critical moment and this is a test of leadership for all of us”.

The United States is continuously criticized by democracy experts for favoring stability over the risks of democracy in the Arab world, and for backing up authoritarian leaders—whether directly or indirectly—for fear of having to deal with an unfavorable alternative (namely, an Islamist government, as in Egypt or Syria). Tunisia should be a relatively easy case for the United States in this context, a litmus test of putting one’s money where one’s mouth is. But it also shows how applauding stability can make countries like the United States blind to the democratic potential lurking beneath the façade of seemingly impenetrable regimes.

Western governments—including that of the United States—have mostly publicly congratulated the Tunisian people on their uprising, and France and other European countries refused Ben Ali entry on Friday when his plane was looking for a place to land. This reaction has been met with cynicism by Hizbullah Secretary General Hassan Nasrallah, a man who, since 2006, has been working to build up his credentials as the only credible Arab leader in the present time.  In a speech on Sunday, Nasrallah was quick to point out the irony of Ben Ali’s lack of welcome in the very countries which he had “served” throughout the duration of his rule.  So, on the regional front, the case of Tunisia unveils how quickly US opponents like Nasrallah can capitalize on short-sighted foreign policy. Nasrallah’s statement paints Western support for authoritarian Arab leaders as a house of cards that can crumble with the slightest shake—a warning to the West and Arab leaders reliant on Western support alike.

It is no coincidence that the reaction to the developments in Tunisia by other Arab regimes has mostly been to lay low. And here we can find another, more important, house of cards. Ben Ali’s regime has been exposed for the decaying entity that it is, and already copycat protests in other Arab countries—Jordan, Algeria, Egypt, and even Mauritania—have started. While a blanket domino effect across the region is not likely, reformists can take heart from Tunisia’s experience: while an authoritarian regime may appear to be indestructible, it may well be a mere house of cards.