Lessons from the Suez Crisis for dealing with modern Egypt

Britain's disastrous colonial attitude to Nasser should warn of the dangers of a lack of engagement.

The nationalization of the Suez Canal on 26 July 1956 represents the epitome of failure in Western diplomacy, the consequences of which still resonate in the Middle East. As the 56th anniversary of the crisis looms and new turbulence afflicts the region, it is worth revisiting the event to draw some of its more important lessons.

Western powers failed to understand Nasser after his Free Officers took power in 1952. Nasser was never averse to Western partnership, but his position was clear; according to his Charter of National Action, he wanted to remove the British military presence in Egypt, strengthen her military capability and rejuvenate the weak economy. This genuine need was not recognized by the Western powers who expected her to be a bulwark against the Soviet Union without considering Egypt’s strategic needs. Britain treated Nasser as a former colonial master, while the US cared only about its tussle with the Soviet Union. Nasser could not take any overtures made by the West seriously because any reduction of British troop numbers only came about due to Egyptian harassment. With the US 6th fleet still anchored at Naples, it was clearly ready to support Israel should another war should break out between the two. It did not make sense for Nasser to view the Soviets as the enemy. The West failed to engage, build trust and above all provide a convincing argument for Nasser to side with them.

The Western powers failed to appreciate Egypt’s security and economic needs. Nasser needed to replenish his defenses due to the humiliating defeat suffered against Israel in 1948-49. Nasser had approached the US to sell him arms. The US missed the opportunity of buying the good will of Nasser and refused. Consequently, Egypt turned to the Soviet Union; in 1956 Egypt concluded the Czech arms deal worth $90m. Similarly, Nasser wanted Western loans to build the Aswan dam as a solution to Egypt’s economic woes; it would increase arable land by 33 per cent and generate 600 million kilowatts of electricity annually. The joint Anglo-American venture withdrew its loans. Consequently, on 26 July 1956, to the astonishment of the Western powers and the applause of the Arab world, Nasser nationalized the Canal.

Western powers also squandered any goodwill or trust that could have been fostered by making Nasser into a mythical archenemy. Before the Suez Crisis, Whitehall was already treating Nasser like a fascist dictator. Western intelligence agencies made several attempts to assassinate him. There were British diplomatic efforts at isolating him in the region through the Baghdad pact. In short, Nasser had become the 1950s version of an Ahmedinejad, the arch villain. Thus when Nasser nationalized the Canal, the response was also like the way one deals with an arch villain; unforgiving and disproportionate. Eden overloaded the water way with oil tankers to demonstrate Egyptian dependency on British expertise. Nasser kept it open. With pie on his face, Eden, resorted to darker methods; whilst UN mediation continued in New York, British, French and Israeli ministers colluded to invade the Sinai Peninsula. Following an Israeli invasion, Anglo-French forces bombed and landed troops in Egypt on the pretext of stopping the two belligerents. This unilateral action was disastrous.

President Eisenhower, livid at not being consulted and US shipping being stuck because Nasser had blocked the canal, withheld vital financial aid to the British economy. Khrushchev, the Russian premier, threatened nuclear war whilst the Arab world turned off the tap on oil supplies. The rest of the international community condemned the action as brazen imperialism. Nasser however, emerged victorious gaining the admiration of Ché Guevara and many non-aligned countries. He gave birth to many emulators in the region like Colonel Gaddafi and solidified the militarization of Egyptian society.

The Suez Crisis should serve as a stark reminder of the failures of engagement. With the Muslim Brotherhood in power, the West must not deal with them the way they dealt with Nasser. Nathan J Brown, professor of political science and international affairs and an expert on the Brotherhood, is surely correct when he advised congress on 13 April 2011 that the Brotherhood must be treated as normal political actors. Whilst not all of their aims are in line with those of the West, as we have learnt from the Suez Crisis, misunderstanding and underestimating them could have serious consequences for Western interests as well as stoking up further instability in these turbulent times.

 

The way Britain dealt with Nasser should be a cautionary tale for the West's relationship with the Muslim Brotherhood. Photograph: Getty Images

Tam Hussein is an award winning writer and journalist specialising in the Middle East. He spent several years in the Middle East and North Africa working as a translator and consultant. Tam also writes for the Huffington Post.

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Jeremy Corbyn's fans must learn the art of compromise

On both sides of the Atlantic, democracy is threatened by a post-truth world. 

Twenty years ago, as a new and enthusiastic Labour MP, I wrote an article for The Observer in praise of spin. I argued that if citizens are to be properly informed and engaged in their democracy, politicians - and in particular governments - have a duty to craft their messages carefully and communicate them cogently. It was a controversial notion then but less so now that we have entered the era of post-truth politics. In the old days, we used to "manage" the truth. Now we have abandoned it. 

We’ve probably come further than we think, for when truth is discarded, reason generally follows. Without a general acceptance of the broad "facts" of any matter, there can be little basis for rational debate nor, therefore, for either the consensus or the respectful disagreement which should emerge from it. Without a commitment to truth, we are free to choose and believe in our own facts and to despise the facts of others. We are free too to place our faith in leaders who make the impossible seem possible. 

We condemn the dictatorships which deny their citizens the right to informed and open debate. But in our own societies, unreasoned and often irrational politics are entering the mainstream. 

The politics of unreason

In the UK, the Leave campaign blithely wedded brazen falsehood to the fantasy that Brexit would cure all ills – and millions of voters enthusiastically suspended their disbelief.  “We want our country back” was a potent slogan - but no less vacuous than the pledge to “make America great again” on which Donald Trump has founded his election campaign. On both sides of the Atlantic, people want to take back control they know they never had nor ever will.

Both campaigns have deliberately bypassed rational argument. They play instead to the emotional response of angry people for whom reason no longer makes sense. Since the time of Plato and Aristotle, democracy’s critics have warned of the ease with which reason can be subverted and citizens seduced by the false oratory of charismatic leaders. Trump is just the latest in a long line of the demagogues they feared. He may not make it to the White House, but he has come a long way on unreasoning rhetoric - and where he leads, millions faithfully follow. He has boasted that he could commit murder on Fifth Avenue without losing votes and he may well be right.

But if Trump is extreme, he is not exceptional. He is a phenomenon of a populism of both right and left which has once more begun to challenge the principles of parliamentary democracy.

Democracy in decline

All over Europe and the United States, consumer-citizens are exasperated by democracy’s failure to meet their demands as fully and as fast as they expect. If the market can guarantee next day delivery, why can’t government? The low esteem in which elected politicians are held is only partly the consequence of their failings and failures. It is also evidence of a growing disenchantment with representative democracy itself. We do not trust our politicians to reflect our priorities. Perhaps we never did. But now we’re no longer prepared to acknowledge their unenviable duty to arbitrate between competing political, social and economic imperatives, nor ours to accept the compromises they reach - at least until the next election.

We have become protesters against rather than participants in our politics and, emboldened by hearing our chosen facts and beliefs reverberating around cyber space, have become increasingly polarised and uncompromising in our protest. 

The Trumpy Corbynites

Which brings us to Labour. Despite the obvious political differences between Jeremy Corbyn and Donald Trump, there are striking similarities in the movements which have coalesced around them. For many of their supporters, they can simply do no wrong; each criticism provides further evidence of a corrupt establishment’s conspiracy against them; rivals, including those who share many of their beliefs, are anathematised; unbelievers are pursued across the internet; inconvenient facts are reinterpreted or ignored; rational, civil debate is shut down or drowned out. 

There are other similarities in these insurgencies: both mistake slogans for policies and mass rallies for popular support; both are overwhelming and quite possibly destroying their own parties – and both, ultimately, are movements without practical purpose.

Trump may give vivid expression to his followers’ grievances but, other than building a wall along the Mexican border, his plans for government are obscure. Similarly, while Corbyn and his supporters know what they’re against, they have not yet articulated a clear vision of what they’re for, much less how it can be achieved. For many of them, it is enough to be "anti-Blairite". 

But in disassociating themselves from a Labour prime minister’s mistakes, they are also dismissing their party’s achievements under his leadership. Their refusal to acknowledge the need for compromise may well enable them to avoid the pitfalls of government. But government’s potential to bring about at least some of the change they want does not come without pitfalls. In wanting it all, they are likely to end up with nothing.

The art of compromise

Democracy cannot be sustained simply by what passionate people oppose. And though movements such as Momentum have important roles to play in influencing political parties, they cannot replace them. Their supporters want to be right - and they often are. But they are rarely prepared to test their principles against the practical business of government. The members of political parties want, or should want, to govern and are prepared, albeit reluctantly, to compromise – with each other, with those they seek to represent, with events -  in order to do so. Parties should listen to movements. But movements, if they are to have any practical purpose, must acknowledge that, for all its limitations, the point of politics is power.

We have to trust that the majority of American voters will reject Donald Trump. But closer to home, if Labour is to have a future as a political force, Corbyn’s supporters must learn to respect the historic purpose of the Labour party at least as much as they admire the high  principles of its current leader. There isn’t long for that realisation to take hold.

In the UK as in the US and elsewhere, we need to rediscover the importance of common cause and the art of compromise in forging it. The alternative is a form of politics which is not only post-truth, post-reason and post-purpose, but also post-democratic. 

Peter Bradley is a former MP and director of Speakers' Corner Trust, a UK charity which promotes free speech, public debate and active citizenship.