Isn't it time we backed Bahrain's revolution?

As the first anniversary of the uprising approaches, it is time for the west to reassess its support

"The she-camel has been impregnated" goes the old Arabic saying, suggesting a looming (usually disastrous) outcome which is all but inevitable. For the past 12 months, Bahrain's ruling monarchy has tried to abort a pregnancy which began in the frenzy of the Arab Spring - but the foetus has proved too mature. The country's mass uprising which began a year ago, on 14 February 2011, was the result of many decades of abuse.

Medieval-style absolutist rule in this island nation was never going to last forever, but the regime's stubbornly uncompromising approach to the Bahraini people's grievances is ensuring an accelerated downfall for the Al Khalifa family's 230-year old dynasty. A year on since the uprising began, just after that in Egypt, and despite the brutal crackdown, the prognosis for the Bahraini regime is bleaker than ever.

Three months after the Bahrain Independent Commission of Inquiry report found a systematic policy of abuse, torture and discrimination on the basis of sectarian affiliation, the regime of King Hamad bin Isa Al Khalifah has failed to implement any tangible reforms to satisfy the opposition. The government's well-documented brutality, coupled with a sense of hopelessness, has resulted in an escalation of protests and almost total loss of authority over several key areas of the small Gulf kingdom. Townships such as Bani Jamrah (one of the country's fiercest anti-regime hotspots) is completely out of regime control after dark. The key suburb of Sitra, dubbed "capital of the revolution", is also a no-go zone for representatives of the government.

Yet when we examine the diplomatic rhetoric here in the west, there is no consistency. Just this past week, there have been renewed calls from US politicians to arm the Syrian rebels (though dismissed); in Bahrain, however, the US government has consistently and strongly condemned any violent acts against the regime carried out by the protesters on the streets. The double standard, even given the US's record, is staggering.

Before the Bahraini regime crackdown began in February and March 2011, anti-government demonstrations on the island were characterised by two unique features: massive turnouts (on one occasion, 300,000 people marched across the capital, representing a quarter of the population), and the largely nonviolent nature of the protesters who raised nothing other than the national flag and offered roses to Bahraini police officers.

Much has transpired since then and the regime's unrelenting violence against peaceful protests has changed the rules of the game. Instead of large mass protests, there are now many small pockets of resistance (called "battalions", even though they only carry sticks and wear white shrouds denoting a readiness to die). Instead of roses being handed out to police, Molotov cocktails have become increasingly common, and are used to push back security vehicles when they invade Shia villages. With the regime's security forces using Molotov cocktails against unarmed protesters, is it any wonder that the protesters soon picked up the habit and began to do the same? With more than 40 faith leaders imprisoned and women publicly assaulted for taking part in peaceful protests, ordinary people feel compelled to fight back.

As countless videos and pictures posted on social networking sites have shown, unarmed protesters in Bahrain have been confronted with state-sponsored savagery and vile acts of murder and abuse. Once the protests were violently quelled, hundreds of people were then detained, tortured, even sexually assaulted. A campaign of intimidation - which has included the demolition of dozens of licensed Shia places of worship and holy sites, the prevention of religious rituals, thousands of arbitrary detentions, around 60 extrajudicial killings, and the imprisonment of physicians for treating injured protesters - has resulted in two impossibly difficult scenarios. If the regime backs down now and releases opposition leaders (including the head of Amal, an officially licensed political society), the protesters will then be further emboldened to continue what they started last year. But if the brutal crackdown continues, so too will the resistance. The Bahraini king is now like the man who steps on a landmine: if he walks off, it will rip him apart, but keeping his foot on the bomb is not a viable option either.

In the midst of all this, the traditional opposition groups (also known as "political societies") are becoming increasingly irrelevant as support grows for a secretive and highly organied youth movement called the Coalition of 14 February. This coalition has called for the overthrow of the monarchy and the establishment of a representative and democratic system of governance. Its message has resonated much more powerfully with the youths than the traditional political societies, which are more supportive of the regime's promises to reform the existing undemocratic system.

Meanwhile, the Bahraini government's western allies have largely ignored both the crackdown and the resulting escalation. The United States, which has much at stake in the region, could have won the hearts and minds of the vast majority of people in Bahrain by condemning the regime's repression from the outset. It could have negotiated the release of the various political detainees and cancelled its arms contracts with the Bahraini security forces. Instead, the United States chose to stand idly by as innocent people were killed and tortured, offering the Bahraini people nothing more than a box of doughnuts and some empty rhetoric. At least, this is how many Bahrainis that I have spoken to see things. The US Navy's Fifth Fleet is stationed in their own backyard, and yet, rather than offering tangible help to a persecuted people, it is the despotic regime which remains the beneficiary of US tactical assistance.

This is a strategic mistake. Imagine the consequences if the western powers had sided with the Hosni Mubarak regime or that of Colonel Gaddafi until the very end. But this is exactly what our governments are doing in relation to Bahrain: ignoring the facts on the ground and the obvious reality that this regime is hanging by a thread. Had it not been for Saudi military support and the West's political backing, the truth is that this unelected Al Khalifa regime would have collapsed long ago.

Whether western leaders decide to cut their losses or keep the Bahraini government on life support for the time being, by far the worst thing they can do is bury their heads in the sand and assume everything is going to be all right. It is madness to bargain with an absolute monarch who has lost the trust, support and respect of his subjects. To do so will only further alienate the people, who will not forget that they were abandoned by the west in their hour of need. The truth is that this particular she-camel will never be the same, having suffered a most painful labour. However much some wish to see the foetus gone, it is far too late for an abortion.

Sayed Mahdi Al-Modaressi is a Shia cleric and chief executive of Ahlulbayt Television Network. @sayedmodarresi

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What happens when a president refuses to step down?

An approaching constitutional crisis has triggered deep political unrest in the Congo.

Franck Diongo reached his party’s headquarters shortly after 10am and stepped out of a Range Rover. Staff and hangers-on rose from plastic chairs to greet the president of the Mouvement Lumumbiste Progressiste (MLP), named after the first elected leader of the Democratic Republic of Congo.

Diongo, a compact and powerfully built man, was so tightly wound that his teeth ground as he talked. When agitated, he slammed his palms on the table and his speech became shrill. “We live under a dictatorial regime, so it used the security forces to kill us with live rounds to prevent our demonstration,” he said.

The MLP is part of a coalition of opposition parties known as the Rassemblement. Its aim is to ensure that the Congolese president, Joseph Kabila, who has been president since 2001, leaves office on 19 December, at the end of his second and supposedly final term.

Yet the elections that were meant to take place late last month have not been organised. The government has blamed logistical and financial difficulties, but Kabila’s opponents claim that the president has hamstrung the electoral commission in the hope that he can use his extended mandate to change the rules. “Mr Kabila doesn’t want to quit power,” said Diongo, expressing a widespread belief here.

On 19 September, the Rassemblement planned a march in Kinshasa, the capital, to protest the failure to deliver elections and to remind the president that his departure from office was imminent. But the demonstration never took place. At sunrise, clashes broke out between police and protesters in opposition strongholds. The military was deployed. By the time peace was restored 36 hours later, dozens had died. Kabila’s interior minister, claiming that the government had faced down an insurrection, acknowledged the deaths of 32 people but said that they were killed by criminals during looting.

Subsequent inquiries by the United Nations and Human Rights Watch (HRW) told a different story. They recorded more fatalities – at least 53 and 56, respectively – and said that the state had been responsible for most of the deaths. They claimed that the Congolese authorities had obstructed the investigators, and the true number of casualties was likely higher. According to HRW, security forces had seized and removed bodies “in an apparent effort to hide the evidence”.

The UN found that the lethal response was directed from a “central command centre. . . jointly managed” by officials from the police, army, presidential bodyguard and intelligence agency that “authorised the use of force, including firearms”.

The reports validated claims made by the Rassemblement that it was soldiers who had set fire to several opposition parties’ headquarters on 20 September. Six men were killed when the compound of the UDPS party was attacked.

On 1 November, their funerals took place where they fell. White coffins, each draped in a UDPS flag, were shielded from the midday sun by a gazebo, while mourners found shade inside the charred building. Pierrot Tshibangu lost his younger sibling, Evariste, in the attack. “When we arrived, we found my brother’s body covered in stab marks and bullet wounds,” he recalled.

Once the government had suppressed the demonstration, the attorney general compiled a list of influential figures in the Rassemblement – including Diongo – and forbade them from leaving the capital. Kinshasa’s governor then outlawed all political protest.

It was easy to understand why Diongo felt embattled, even paranoid. Midway through our conversation, his staff apprehended a man loitering in the courtyard. Several minutes of mayhem ensued before he was restrained and confined under suspicion of spying for the government.

Kabila is seldom seen in public and almost never addresses the nation. His long-term intentions are unclear, but the president’s chief diplomatic adviser maintains that his boss has no designs on altering the constitution or securing a third term. He insists that Kabila will happily step down once the country is ready for the polls.

Most refuse to believe such assurances. On 18 October, Kabila’s ruling alliance struck a deal with a different, smaller opposition faction. It allows Kabila to stay in office until the next election, which has been postponed until April 2018. A rickety government of national unity is being put in place but discord is already rife.

Jean-Lucien Bussa of the CDER party helped to negotiate the deal and is now a front-runner for a ministerial portfolio. At a corner table in the national assembly’s restaurant, he told me that the Rassemblement was guilty of “a lack of realism”, and that its fears were misplaced because Kabila won’t be able to prolong his presidency any further.

“On 29 April 2018, the Congolese will go to the ballot box to vote for their next president,” he said. “There is no other alternative for democrats than to find a negotiated solution, and this accord has given us one.”

Diongo was scathing of the pact (he called it “a farce intended to deceive”) and he excommunicated its adherents from his faction. “They are Mr Kabila’s collaborators, who came to divide the opposition,” he told me. “What kind of oppositionist can give Mr Kabila the power to violate the constitution beyond 19 December?”

Diongo is convinced that the president has no intention of walking away from power in April 2018. “Kabila will never organise elections if he cannot change the constitution,” he warned.

Diongo’s anger peaked at the suggestion that it will be an uphill struggle to dislodge a head of state who has control of the security forces. “What you need to consider,” he said, “is that no army can defy a people determined to take control of their destiny . . . The Congolese people will have the last word!”

A recent poll suggested that the president would win less than 8 per cent of the vote if an election were held this year. One can only assume that Kabila is hoping that the population will have no say at all.

This article first appeared in the 01 December 2016 issue of the New Statesman, Age of outrage