A trillion-dollar catalyst for change in the Arab World

The Middle East's oil wealth has the potential to become the key driver for change and innovation in

At the end of the 19th Century, Lord Curzon, the then British Viceroy of India, described Iran and its Arab neighbours as "pieces on a chessboard upon which is being played out a game for the domination of the world".

Throughout history, the geostrategic importance of the Middle East, with its immense oil wealth, has shaped the policies of colonial empires, secured the longevity of autocratic regimes and given rise to religious elites. The 'game of chess', as described by Lord Curzon, promises great riches and influence for the players involved, but has often come at a huge cost for the majority of the Arab people.

Indeed, oil wealth, so narrowly shared between the region's ruling minorities, has historically presented a barrier to democracy and left a vacuum of inequality and lost opportunities in many Arab societies. It is no coincidence that the citizens of Arab countries with limited fossil fuel reserves have enjoyed greater freedom over the years than their oil-rich neighbours.

Now, however, the uprisings of the Arab Spring present a unique opportunity to use the wealth of the region to reinvest in the future prosperity and wellbeing of the Arab people. It is an opportunity which must be grasped before history repeats itself and, as with recent events in Cairo, the transition to democracy is derailed.

Fuelling progress

While the Arab world is no stranger to revolution - Egypt, 1952, Iran, 1979 - this time around the stakes are higher than ever. With oil prices climbing to above $100/barrel, the Arab Peninsula is currently generating export oil revenues of $1 trillion dollars a year. But the conventional reserves and production capacities of oil-rich Arab countries are finite and slowly depleting. This means there is a narrowing window of opportunity to leverage the region's resources for the benefit of the people.

What's more, the ease of wealth creation from oil readily attracts those whose sole interests lie in personal profit, religious agenda or geopolitical power. If such forces emerge triumphant from the Arab Spring, oil wealth will continue to line the pockets of the few, rather than meet the needs of the many.

With these scenarios in mind, the new emerging Arab leadership needs to create genuine democratic expectations as a bulwark against corruption and oligarchy. In many countries across the region, the euphoria of revolution will soon give way to the on-the-ground realities of reconstruction. Amid the many challenges and complexities of state-building, it is critical that these countries recalibrate their socio-economic systems in a way that provides enhanced economic and human prosperity.

Diversification and development

The new Arab leadership also need to focus on transforming oil-based economies into information-based economies supported by firm democratic foundations and social equity. And this can only be achieved through the reinvestment of petrodollars into manufacturing, technology and intellectual capital. The development of mass-transit systems, solar energy conversion, water desalination or passive cooling technologies, for example, will be of long-term value to Arab societies, providing new employment and export opportunities in a warming world.

By harnessing the region's potential for alternative energy from sunlight, and by enhancing their non-oil based productive capacity, countries will be able to project themselves onto a path of sustainable and inclusive economic development. The decentralisation of oil wealth will also break up governments' ownership of petrodollar wealth and lead to improved transparency, good governance and trust among the Arab people.

Levelling the playing field

The Middle East's oil wealth, then, has the potential to become the key driver for change and innovation in Arab countries. To ensure a more sustainable model for the future, states' natural resource wealth should be saved for export, and foreign oil companies should only be awarded oil contracts once they partake in third-party monitored bidding rounds.

But other issues also need to be addressed to enable long-term wealth creation in the region - not least the record number of 75 million illiterate adults, the fatal mismatch within the labour market and, most importantly, the gender inequality in both education and employment. At present, 50 per cent of the talent base is excluded from society and the workplace, and the Middle East's long-term growth strategy must address all parts of an inclusive wealth-creation framework. Such a strategy should be based on a home-grown path for change, and provide inclusive and broadly shared development gains. One trillion dollars a year could serve as sufficient investment to achieve these goals.

In Egypt, we've already seen how easily interim leaders can renege on their promises. Without doubt, new governments with old mindsets will undermine all progress made so far in the Arab Spring. For this reason, the calls for democracy, transparency and accountability currently sweeping the region need to be answered with genuine commitment. If they are not, the sacrifices and achievements of the younger Arab generation will be squandered. Leaders must also take a long-term approach to the management of oil wealth to ensure the region can meet the challenges of food and water shortages, rising population levels and global warming.

The Arab Spring presents an opportunity not only to reset the pieces on the chessboard, but to level the playing field entirely. The new Arab leadership needs to show strength and vision to take this opportunity in the months ahead.

Tara Shirvani and Sir David King
Smith School of Enterprise and the Environment, University of Oxford

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France is changing: an army stalks the streets and Boris Johnson wanders the Tuileries

Will Self on the militarisation of France, and Boris Johnson at the Foreign Office.

At the corner of the rue D’Hauteville and the rue de Paradis in the tenth arrondissement of Paris is a retro-video-games-themed bar, Le Fantôme, which is frequented by some not-so-jeunes gens – the kind of thirtysomethings nostalgic for an era when you had to go to an actual place if you wanted to enter virtual space. They sit placidly behind the plate-glass windows zapping Pac-Men and Space Invaders, while outside another – and rather more lethal – sort of phantom stalks the sunlit streets.

I often go to Paris for work, and so have been able to register the incremental militarisation of its streets since President Hollande first declared a state of emergency after last November’s terrorist attacks. In general the French seem more comfortable about this prêt-à-porter khaki than we’d probably be; the army-nation concept is, after all, encrypted deep in their collective psyche. The army was constituted as a revolutionary instrument. France was the first modern nation to introduce universal male conscription – and it continued in one form or another right up until the mid-1990s.

Even so, it was surprising to witness the sang-froid with which Parisians regarded the camouflaged phantoms wandering among them: a patrol numbering eight ­infantrymen and women moved up the roadway, scoping out doorways, nosing into passages – but when one peered into Le Fantôme, his assault rifle levelled, none of the boozing gamers paid the least attention. I witnessed this scene the Saturday after Mohamed Lahouaiej-Bouhlel ran amok on the Promenade des Anglais in Nice – it was a little preview of the new state of emergency.

On Monday 18 July the French premier, Manuel Valls, was booed at a memorial service for the victims of the Nice attacks – while Marine Le Pen has been making all the populist running, whipping up anxieties about the enemy within. For many French, the events of the past week – including the failed Turkish coup – are steps along the way limned by Michel Houellebecq in his bestselling novel Submission; a via dolorosa that ends with La Marianne wearing the hijab and France itself annexed by a new caliphate.

Into this febrile drama comes a new player: Boris Johnson, the British Foreign Secretary. What can we expect from this freshly minted statesman when it comes to our relations with our closest neighbour? There is no doubt that Johnson is a Francophile – I’ve run into him and his family at the Tuileries, and he made much of his own francophone status during the referendum campaign. In Paris last winter to launch the French edition of his Churchill biography, Johnson wowed a publication dinner by speaking French for the entire evening. He was sufficiently fluent to bumble, waffle and generally avoid saying anything serious at all.

Last Sunday I attended the Lambeth Country Show, an oxymoronic event for which the diverse inhabitants of my home borough gather in Brockwell Park, south London, for jerked and halal chicken, funfair rides, Quidditch-watching, and “country-style” activities, such as looking at farm animals and buying their products. Wandering among ancient Rastafarians with huge shocks of dreadlocks, British Muslims wearing immaculate white kurtas blazoned with “ASK ME ABOUT ISLAM” and crusty old Brixton punks, I found it quite impossible to rid my mind of the Nice carnage – or stop wondering how they would react if armed soldiers were patrolling, instead of tit-helmeted, emphatically unarmed police.

I stepped into the Royal Horticultural Society marquee, and there they were: the entire cast of our end-of-the-pier-show politics, in vegetable-sculpture form and arrayed for judging. There was Jeremy Corbyn (or “Cornbin”) made out of corncobs – and Boris Johnson in the form of a beetroot, being stabbed in the back by a beetroot Michael Gove. And over there was Johnson again, this time rendered in cabbage. The veggie politicians were the big draw, Brixtonians standing six-deep around them, iPhones aloft.

The animal (as opposed to the vegetable) Johnson has begun his diplomatic rounds this week, his first démarches as tasteless and anodyne as cucumber. No British abandonment of friends after Brexit . . . Coordinated response to terror threat . . . Call for Erdogan to be restrained in response to failed coup . . . Blah-blah, whiff-whaff-waffle . . . Even someone as gaffe-prone as he can manage these simple lines, but I very much doubt he will be able to produce rhetorical flourishes as powerful as his hero’s. In The Churchill Factor: How One Man Made History, Johnson writes of Winnie overcoming “his stammer and his depression and his ­appalling father to become the greatest living Englishman”. Well, I’ve no idea if Bojo suffers from depression now but he soon will if he cleaves to this role model. His Churchill-worship (like so many others’) hinges on his belief that, without Churchill as war leader, Britain would have been ground beneath the Nazi jackboot. It may well be that, with his contribution to the Brexit campaign, Johnson now feels he, too, has wrested our national destiny from the slavering jaws of contingency.

Of course the differences between the two politicians are far more significant: Johnson’s genius – such as it is – lies in his intuitive understanding that politics, in our intensely mediatised and entirely commoditised era, is best conceived of as a series of spectacles or stunts: nowadays you can fool most of the people, most of the time. This is not a view you can imagine associating with Churchill, who, when his Gallipoli stratagem went disastrously wrong, exiled himself, rifle in hand, to the trenches. No, the French people Johnson both resembles and has an affinity for are the ones caught up in the virtual reality of Le Fantôme – rather than those patrolling the real and increasingly mean streets without. 

Will Self is an author and journalist. His books include Umbrella, Shark, The Book of Dave and The Butt. He writes the Madness of Crowds and Real Meals columns for the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 21 July 2016 issue of the New Statesman, The English Revolt