Can an Indonesian Model Work in the Middle East? · Association of Muslim Intellectuals (Ikatan Cendekiawan Muslim Indonesia) made up largely of professionals, scientists, economists,

/ 59 Carnegie: Indonesian Model

Can an Indonesian ModelWork in the Middle East?

by Paul J. Carnegie

Since the downfall of long reigning President Suharto in May 1998, Indonesia hassuccessfully, if not always without difficulty, transitioned from authoritarian rule toa functioning democracy. Earlier concerns over Islamist ascendancy have proved

largely unfounded, and a diversity of Islamic political expression is accommodated withinthe framework of democratic electoral politics.1 How was this development possible inthe world’s most populous Muslim country, and can it serve as a template for the ongo-ing transitions in the Middle East?

Paul J. Carnegie is senior lecturer in politicaleconomy at the Institute of Asian Studies,Universiti Brunei Darussalam. He is the authorof The Road from Authoritarianism to Democ-ratization in Indonesia (Palgrave Macmillan,2010) and taught previously in both Egypt andthe United Arab Emirates.

ISLAM, NATIONALISM, ANDTHE INDONESIAN REPUBLIC

The Indonesian archipelago has a rich his-tory of taking outside influences (especially re-ligious ones) and adapting them to complementexisting social structures, traditions, and beliefsystems. The first major encounters with Islamdate from the thirteenth and fourteenth centu-ries when the religion arrived peacefully via trad-ing merchants from Persia and India. Spreadinggradually to Sumatra, Java, and beyond overthe centuries, Islamic practice including Sufi tra-ditions amalgamated with indigenous customand became part and parcel of many of thearchipelago’s different cultural identities.

This gradual syncretic adoption is reflectedin predominantly tolerant and diverse forms ofreligious expression across Indonesia. For in-stance, on Java there is a distinct difference, interms of religiosity, between two major Islamicstrands: Many nominal Javanese Muslims(abangan) identify with an indigenized syncreticform of practice, Agami Jawi, while otherJavanese identify as Santri, practicing a stricterbut still moderate form of Islam.2 Outside Java,believers in places like Aceh in northern Sumatra,parts of the Moluccas, and in central Sulawesi(formerly known as Celebes) observe a stricterpractice while, on the other hand, some Sasakon the island of Lombok still adhere to an Is-lamic animist-ancestral amalgam known as IslamWetu Telu. In fact, one could say that in themajority of cases, a dynamic and tolerant equi-librium exists between the archipelago’s over-

1 See, for example, Thomas Carothers, “Egypt and Indonesia,”The New Republic, Feb. 2, 2011; Jay Solomon, “In Indonesia,a model for Egypt’s transition,” The Wall Street Journal, Feb.12, 2011.2 Clifford Geertz, The Religion of Java (Chicago: ChicagoUniversity Press, 1960), pp. 121-31.

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lapping strands of national, religious, and cul-tural identification. Indonesians share a strongsense of national, political identity forged froma common history of anticolonial struggles,shared national language (bahasa Indonesia),and state-sponsored education. The size ofIndonesia’s two major socio-religious organiza-tions also gives one an appreciation of the influ-ence of Islam in daily life. Both organizationsboast many devout followers. The traditionalistSunni Nahdlatul Ulama (NU, Awakening ofUlama) has about 30-35 million members andformed in 1926 in reaction to the reformistMuhammadiyah (Followers of Muhammad). Itsraison d’être is to spread and retain conserva-tive Islamic teachings and practices through alarge network of religious boarding schools. Thereformist Muhammadiyah numbers approxi-mately 29 million. Established in 1912, it focuseson social and educational activities through apromotion of ijtihad (individual interpretationof the Qur’an and sunna) rather than the uncriti-cal acceptance (taqlid) of orthodox interpreta-tions of tradition by ulama.3

At the same time, the modern In-donesian state has not always had aneasy relationship with the polity’s cul-tural-religious identification. Indonesiadeclared its independence from theNetherlands in August 1945, but in themonths leading up to it, a lively con-stitutional debate took place center-ing in part on the emerging pancasila(five principles) ideology of Sukarno,Indonesia’s first president. Enshrinedin article 29, section 1 of the 1945 con-stitution, the five principles are beliefin one God, national unity, humanitari-anism, consensus democracy, and so-cial justice. Originally, the first principlealso contained the words “with an ob-ligation for Muslims to implement Is-lamic law,” but this was soon droppedby the largely secular-nationalistminded Sukarno. This left many stricterMuslims, particularly from outsideJava, with the sense that the finalizedconstitution marginalized Islam.

Sukarno and his nationalist al-lies soon successfully weakened and splinteredthe Islamic political party, Masjumi (an acronymfor the Council of Indonesian Muslim Associa-tions) in an attempt to reduce its political ap-peal. By 1958, opposition to Sukarno’s increas-ingly authoritarian “guided democracy” led toopen rebellion under the aegis of the short-livedRevolutionary Government of the Republic ofIndonesia. After the military crushed the rebel-lion, Sukarno jailed many of Masjumi’s leadersfor their involvement and eventually outlawedthe party. Erstwhile Islamic militias such as DarulIslam and Tentara Islam Indonesia, which hadparticipated in the war of independence againstthe Dutch, met with similar fates. Sensing thethreat they posed to his nationalist project,Sukarno banned both, and by the 1960s, theyhad fallen into disarray after suffering sustainedattack from the Indonesian armed forces.

Indonesia has a history of tolerance for diverse forms ofreligious expression often combining elements of Islamand other indigenous faiths. On the island of Lombok,Indonesians take part in perang topat (rice cake war),an annual event in which Hindus and Muslims throwrice cakes at each other; Hindus celebrate the foundingof their village while Muslims commemorate the journeyof a Muslim scholar who brought Islam to the island.

3 Fauzan Saleh, Modern Trends in Islamic Theological Dis-course in 20th Century Indonesia: A Critical Survey (Leiden:Brill 2001), pp. 17-29.

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In 1965, a failed coupignited a bloody powerstruggle in which the armypurged the country ofPresident Sukarno’s com-munist allies and installedGen. Suharto as head ofstate. With the rise ofSuharto, failure to professa recognized religionmeant potential persecu-tion as a communist, a fatethe majority of Indone-sians were eager to avoidas it is estimated that be-tween 500,000-1,000,000 al-leged communist sympa-thizers died in a brutalslaughter between 1965and 1966.4 It thus comes aslittle surprise that between 85 to 90 percent of theIndonesian population carry identification cardsidentifying themselves as Muslim. Keen to sty-mie any challenges to his authority, Suharto alsorefused Masjumi a return to politics, and with his1971 overhaul of the electoral system, he effec-tively de-Islamized Indonesia’s state-level politi-cal structure. The major Islamic organizations wereforced to align themselves under the banner of aregime co-opted political party, the United Devel-opment Party (Partai Persatuan Pembangunan).

Nevertheless, Suharto was only partially suc-cessful in subsuming society’s Islamic identifica-tion to the diktats of his “New Order” ideology. Ineffect, his marginalization of political Islam merelyprecipitated a greater role on its part in fosteringcivil society activity. Rather than directly chal-lenge the authorities for political power, moderatereformists such as Dawan Rahardjo, DjohanEffendi, and Nurcholish Madjid focused on build-ing a strong and dynamic Islamic communitybased on education and social welfare. Their ideas

on Islamic social and educational renewal emergedin close association with the Islamic StudentsAssociation (Himpunan Mahasiswa Islam), whichappealed to a younger generation of well-edu-cated, urban, middle-class Indonesians who wereenjoying some of the benefits of New Order eco-nomic development.

DEMOCRATIC TRANSITIONAND POLITICAL ISLAM

By the 1990s, Suharto himself began to en-courage the restoration of Islamic issues ontothe political agenda. Eager to court Islamic sup-port as a counter to growing pro-democracy sen-timent and rumbling military dissent, it becamepolitically advantageous for Suharto to tolerateIslamic political activism. He promoted pro-Is-lamic officers in the army and supported theAssociation of Muslim Intellectuals (IkatanCendekiawan Muslim Indonesia) made up largelyof professionals, scientists, economists, educa-tors, scholars, and regime supporters.5

Carnegie: Indonesian Model

The largely secular-nationalist minded President Sukarnosucceeded in marginalizing political Islam. His successor, Suharto(in fatigues), led an anticommunist purge, which had the unin-tended consequence of prompting the vast majority of Indonesiansto identify as Muslims to escape the communist dragnet.

4 Robert Cribb, ed., The Indonesian Killings of 1965–1966:Studies from Java and Bali (Clayton: Monash University Cen-tre of Southeast Asian Studies, 1990), p. 12; idem, “Genocidein Indonesia, 1965-1966,” Journal of Genocide Research, June3, 2001, pp. 219-39.

5 Suzaina Kadir, “The Islamic factor in Indonesia’s politicaltransition,” Asian Journal of Political Science, 2 (1999), pp.21-44.

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The strategy eventually backfired in thewake of the devastating Asian financial crisis of1997. The Indonesian rupiah went into free fallagainst world currencies, and the banking sectorcollapsed under a mountain of bad loans. Theprices of oil, gas, and other commodity exportsplummeted as per capita gross domestic productfell by 13 percent. The crisis was exacerbated byIndonesia’s worst drought in fifty years. As infla-tion soared, food prices rose, and ensuing short-ages led to widespread rioting. By the followingyear, Suharto’s grip on power had loosened inthe face of the economic meltdown and pressurefrom the reformasi movement, the broad move-ment to bring down Suharto’s New Order.

Prominent Islamic leaders such asAbdurrahman Wahid, president in 1999-2001,Amien Rais, leader of Muhammadiyah, andNurcholish Madjid along with their associatedorganizations played major populist roles inSuharto’s eventual downfall and its aftermathby helping to disseminate democratic values

throughout society via voter educationand election monitoring.6 Their links toMuslim activists on the frontlines ofstudent protests and rallies against thepresident exemplified the compatibilityof Islam with democracy, political rights,and justice. Underscoring moderationand support for Sukarno’s five prin-ciples was crucially important during theturmoil and prevented calls for the cre-ation of an Islamic state from gainingany traction. Appeals to Indonesians’sense of tolerance and national pridetook precedence.

Suharto tried to deflect public an-ger by blaming Sino-Indonesians andglobal financial institutions for the cri-sis, but tensions within the military weak-ened his hold on power. Factional splitsthat had developed in the 1980s between“red and white” (secular nationalist) and“green” (Islamic) groups increased, andsome began questioning Suharto’s au-thority. In this turbulent economic andpolitical climate, factions within thegreen military began shifting their sup-port to the Indonesian Council for Is-

lamic Da’wa (Dewan Dakwah Islamiyah Indone-sia) and the Indonesian Committee for Solidar-ity of the Islamic World (Komite Indonesia UntukSolidaritas dengan Dunia Islam), both of whichreceived substantial funding and donations fromSaudi Arabia and Kuwait. Eventually, key fac-tions of the military simply abandoned the presi-dent. He had become too much of a liability.

ISLAMIC POLITICAL PARTIES

Upon Suharto’s departure, pressuremounted on Abdurrahman Wahid, leader of the

U.S. president Bill Clinton (right) meets with Indo-nesian president Abdurrahman Wahid, Washington,D.C., November 12, 1999. Wahid was a prominentIslamic leader who was wary of his traditionalistSunni Nahdlatul Ulama party’s return to politicsas potentially damaging to its social mission. Heeventually helped to form the National AwakeningParty, which combined Islam with the nationalistpancasila ideology: belief in one God, national unity,humanitarianism, consensus democracy, and socialjustice.

6 Mohammad Fajrul Falaakh, “Islam and the Current Transi-tion to Democracy in Indonesia,” in Arief Budiman, BarbaraHatley, and Damien Kingsbury, eds., Reformasi: Crisis andChange in Indonesia (Clayton: Monash Asia Institute 1999),pp. 201-12; Robert Hefner, Civil Islam: Muslims and Democra-tization in Indonesia (Princeton: Princeton University Press,2000), pp. 189-200.

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NU, to run for office. Wahid was wary of NU’sreturn to politics as potentially damaging to itssocial mission but was eventually persuaded tohead the newly-formed National Awakening Party(Partai Kebangkitan Bangsa), which combinedIslam with the nationalist pancasila ideology.Notwithstanding NU’s long-time championshipof an Islamic-oriented Indonesia and Wahid’spersonal stature, neither it nor any of the welterof Islamic parties and groups that sprang up inthe post-Suharto environment could achieve aparliamentary majority. By late 1998, the pros-pect of a single Islamic political voice emerginglooked highly unlikely. Although forty out ofeighty political parties were, to varying degrees,Islamic-oriented, this number decreased by elec-tion time in 1999 to twenty eligible groups.7

The outcome of this proliferation of partieswas ultimately unsatisfying for all contenders.Megawati Sukarnoputri (Sukarno’s daughter) ledthe secular-nationalist Indonesian DemocraticParty-Struggle (Partai Demokrasi Indonesia-Perjuangan) to 37.4 percent of the vote (153 seatsin parliament) while Wahid’s National Awaken-ing Party only garnered 12.6 percent of the votefor 51 seats. Despite this, behind-the-scenesjockeying for power and horse-trading maneu-vers by Islamic groups produced a coalition thatbacked Wahid for the presidency.

Wahid, however, was simply unable to holdtogether a broad coalition of competing inter-ests. Notwithstanding the increased Islamic in-fluence that led to his elevation, the confusionthat reigned during Wahid’s presidency (and hiseventual impeachment in mid-2001) indicated aprocess still very much in transition. But ratherthan impeachment signaling a return to authori-tarian ways, it became the first big test ofIndonesia’s new democratic credentials. Parlia-ment followed constitutional protocol by replac-ing Wahid with then-vice-president MegawatiSukarnoputri, who went on to complete the re-mainder of Wahid’s five-year presidential term.

Ironically, the Islamic groups who had pushedso hard for Wahid to serve were now left withthe unpalatable option of the secularistMegawati as the next constitutionally mandatedpresident. They duly accepted the appointment,nonetheless.

Political machinations aside, developmentsin the post-Suharto party system introduced po-litical players with stricterforms of Muslim identitypolitics capable of appeal-ing to major Muslim con-stituencies. Islamic-ori-ented political parties ap-peal to sections of moreconservative-minded, ur-ban middle classes withan interest in promotingsocial decency, politicalmoderation, and pietybased on Islam as an ethical reference. The moralconcerns of these constituencies combined withfeelings of uncertainty toward social change inthe face of rapid development have no doubthelped bolster the appeal.

Yet, while the number of Islamic parties ismore prevalent than at any time in Indonesia’spast, most of their involvement is of a moderatekind and very far from being associated with theinstitution of an Islamist theocracy. Moreover,the results of the 1999 election indicated clearlythat Indonesians en masse favored a democraticpolity over an Islamic state, giving the secular-ist-nationalist parties of the Indonesian Demo-cratic Party-Struggle and the Golkar party 58.3percent of the vote while the various Islamicparties amassed less than 42 percent.8 True, theIslamist Prosperous Justice Party (PartaiKeadilan Sejahtera or PKS), whose leaders claimit does not seek to impose Shari‘a (despite linksto the Muslim Brotherhood), increased its votefrom 1.5 percent in 1999 to 7.45 percent in 2004.9

Carnegie: Indonesian Model

Prominent Islamicleaders andorganizationsplayed majorpopulist rolesin Suharto’seventual downfall.

7 Ken Young, “The national picture: A victory for reform?” inSusan Blackburn, ed. Pemilu: The 1999 Indonesian Election(Melbourne: Monash Asia Institute, 1999), pp. 3-11.

8 Komisi Pemilihan Umum, “Indonesian elections with fig-ures and facts 1955-1999,” General Elections Commission,Jakarta, 2000.9 Sadanand Dhume, “Indonesian Democracy’s Enemy Within,”Yale Global, Dec. 1, 2005.

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But this success was largely a result of its im-age as a relatively new and untainted party, aswell as the stagnation and subsequent unrav-eling of Megawati’s tenure. The PKS leader-ship skillfully exploited the situation to cast it-self as a “clean” Islamic party committed to ananti-corruption platform, rather than to the im-

position of Shari‘a rule.Although the public’sperception of it has tar-nished somewhat overthe years, especially re-cently, it marginally in-creased its share in thePeople’s RepresentativeCouncil (the Indonesianversion of the House ofRepresentatives) in the2009 elections to almost

8 percent but made less significant inroads in manyof the regions.

Most significantly, the PKS and other Is-lamic-oriented groups represent only 169 out of560 seats in parliament—a mere 30 percent. Thestunning electoral triumph of the secular-nation-alist Democratic Party (Partai Demokrat) in 2009with 148 seats alongside the more establishedGolkar and Indonesian Democratic Party-Struggle groups (106 and 94 seats respectively)indicates that Islam does not necessarily trumpother interests or issues in Indonesia. Still, thereis a growing concern that not enough is beingdone to combat radicalism, intolerance, and in-creasing intimidation of local religious minori-ties by hard-line Islamist vigilantes such as FrontPembela Islam (Islamic Defenders Front).10

LESSONS TO LEARN

The Indonesian experience shows thatcountries do not emerge in a straightforward

transition from authoritarian rule to multipartydemocracy overnight: The challenges of transi-tion are multiple. Success depends on translat-ing momentum for change into meaningful re-form and improvements over a sustained periodof time. This involves redressing past injustices,economic stabilization, popular legitimization, ju-dicial reform, diffusion of democratic values,marginalization of anti-system actors, ensuringgreater civilian rule over the military, party sys-tem development, and the routinization of poli-tics.11 What also needs to be recognized is thatdemocratization is not the same as democracy;one is a process, the other a political system. De-mocracy can become the “only game in town” ifand when change occurs incrementally on thebehavioral, attitudinal, and constitutional levels.12

Indonesia’s transformation, in common withother democratizations, has been anything buteasy.13 There continue to be corruption issues,ongoing policy ineffectiveness, judicial prob-lems, institutional frictions, and personality poli-tics but what is clear is that there has been sub-stantive reform. The political system is now afunctioning democracy with all its benefits andshortcomings. Reviewing the steps taken to getthere may help in producing applicable measuresfor steering the turbulent Middle Eastern soci-eties toward a more democratic future.

To begin with, there is the need to organizefree and fair elections though elections in them-selves can hardly be expected to channel con-tests peacefully among political rivals or accord

10 See, for example, “Indonesia: ‘Christianization’ and Intol-erance,” Asia Briefing, no. 114, International Crisis Group,Jakarta/Brussels, Nov. 24, 2010, p. 17; “Religion’s Name:Abuses against Religious Minorities in Indonesia,” HumanRights Watch, New York, 2013, pp. 60-6, 71-86.

11 Andreas Schedler, “What Is Democratic Consolidation?”Journal of Democracy, Apr. 1998, pp. 91-107.12 Juan Linz and Alfred Stepan, Problems of DemocraticTransition and Consolidation: Southern Europe, South Americaand Post-communist Europe (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins Uni-versity Press, 1996), pp. 5-14.13 Paige Johnson Tan, “Indonesia Seven Years after Soeharto:Party System Institutionalization in a New Democracy,” Con-temporary Southeast Asia, 1 (2006), pp. 88-114; DouglasWebber, “A Consolidated Patrimonial Democracy? Democrati-zation in Post-Suharto Indonesia,” Democratization, 3 (2006),pp. 396-420; Marcus Mietzner and Edward Aspinall, “Prob-lems of Democratisation in Indonesia: An Overview,” in EdwardAspinall and Marcus Mietzner, eds., Problems ofDemocratisation in Indonesia: Elections, Institutions and So-ciety (Singapore: Institute of Southeast Asian Studies, 2010),pp. 1-20.

Islamic-orientedgroups representonly 169 out of560 seats inparliament—amere 30 percent.

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public legitimacy. There also hasto be corresponding reform of stateinstitutions, policymaking proce-dures, and an attendant recoveryof civil liberties. Inclusive suffrage,the right to run for office, en-hanced freedom of expression, andaccess to alternative informationare some of the necessary build-ing blocks. Indonesia’s first twoelections in 1999 and 2004 were thefreest in more than forty years withhuge amounts of political activityand media coverage. The lifting ofpress restrictions, the release ofpolitical prisoners, and the forma-tion of new political parties all borewitness to its climate of reform.

Dismantling the most repres-sive structures of an authoritarianregime and removing the militarygradually from politics are alsomajor tasks of reform. In Indonesia, political lead-ers moved quickly to separate the police fromthe military. Turning the military into an assetrather than a threat to the process is a challengebut not insurmountable. Persuading the gener-als to “return to the barracks” involves invest-ment in their professionalism, an appeal to theirsense of honor, and realistically, an appeal totheir wallets.

To prevent a reactionary backlash, allow-ing the military to retain substantial economicinterests may be a prudent move if a difficult pillto swallow in the short term. However, one mustbe exceptionally wary of grand bargains beingstruck, whereby political hegemony is transferredon the assurance that the military uncondition-ally retains its reserved economic domains andprivileged status. Rather, the aim must be to cre-ate enough time and space to institute somestep-by-step reforms and gradually phase outmilitary embeddedness in the body politic, some-thing that the recent Middle Eastern revolutionshave thus far failed to do.

Indonesia managed to reduce thesociopolitical role of its armed forces by allow-ing it to retain its substantial economic interestsin the short term, and there have even been at-

Carnegie: Indonesian Model

tempts to phase this out completely althoughvery incrementally. This paved the way for con-stitutional reform of the army’s dual role in poli-tics and the economy in 2002 and the formalremoval of its allocated seats in parliament in2004. All of this brought improved civilian ruleof the military over time.

This, in turn, can help in the provision oftransitional justice. A society often needs toallow some of its open wounds to heal so thatit can move on. It is an incredibly fraught andthorny process, but one way to do this is togive them a good “airing.” This may involvethe establishment of some form of truth andreconciliation commission as in South Africaor East Timor, depending on circumstance.South Africa provides a better template for rec-onciliatory justice than the attempts in EastTimor. The 2002 Ad-Hoc Court for HumanRights Violations in East Timor convicted onlya small number of lower-ranking military offic-ers. Indonesia’s military (especially its top com-manders at the time) have largely avoided re-criminations. Syria represents a perfect exampleof where such an undertaking will be critical,but this process may also be applied in suchcountries as Egypt, Libya, and Tunisia where

There is a growing concern that not enough is being doneto combat increasing radicalism and intimidation of localreligious minorities by hard-line Indonesian Islamistgroups. Lady Gaga was recently forced to cancel her sold-out show in Indonesia following threats by Islamic hard-liners, who called her a “devil worshipper.”

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14 Adam Przeworski, Democracy and the Market: Politicaland Economic Reforms in Eastern Europe and Latin America(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1991), p. 26.

long-standing authoritarian regimes were sweptfrom power. The scale of the Assad regime’s vio-lence and the country’s crosscutting sectarianrivalries make the potential for wide-scale retri-bution and bloodletting a very real prospect.Future prosecutions at the International Crimi-nal Court or a similar tribunal for the worst of-fenders of the Syrian regime should be contem-plated. Such steps are important in post-conflictsituations as they provide mortar to rebuild re-spect for state institutions and the rule of law.Restoring pride and trust in institutions suchas the judiciary, law enforcement, and securityservices is a massive task of reform that willtake time and substantial effort.

A third critical factor, major constitutionaland decentralization reform, brought improvedrepresentation and accountability to Indonesia,albeit by degrees. Although far from perfect, therestructured People’s Consultative Assembly(Majelis Permusyawaratan Rakyat) now consistsentirely of popularly elected members sitting inthe People’s Representative Council and a newRegional Representatives Council (DewanPerwakilan Daerah). In fact, Indonesia’s 2004 elec-

tions bore witness to ameaningful and exten-sive number of permittedpolitical parties, stabi-lized election rules,amendments to decen-tralization legislation,and constitutional limita-tions on the power of theexecutive. The presidentis elected directly and

can only serve one renewable five-year term. Par-liament has also gained more power in the legis-lative process, which encourages the presidentto maintain broad support in the legislature.

The success of Indonesia’s 2009 elec-tions further attests to real stabilization androutinization. A diverse media remains open andvigorous, and civil society activity continuesto flourish with an array of nongovernmentalorganizations and pressure groups. This is notto say things are all smooth sailing, but mostimportant is the fact that the new democratic

framework is accepted.14 Current presidentYudhoyono may be ex-military, but he is uncon-ditionally committed to, and readily submits hisinterests to, the new rules of the game—some-thing that new Middle Eastern leaders have yetto learn.

CONCLUSIONS

The recent Islamist electoral successes inTunisia and Egypt suggest a different politicaldynamic than Indonesia. Yet the tenor of theuprisings, at least in their initial phases, as wellas subsequent reactions to authoritarian behav-ior by elected Islamist officials, indicate that asubstantial number of people in these countries,as in Indonesia, will expect parties to respect therule of law and address their countries’ economicand corruption problems. As evidenced by thepublic backlash to Egyptian president MohamedMorsi’s recent power grab and the assassina-tion of Tunisian opposition leader Chokri Belaïd,attempts at a coercive institutionalization of Is-lamist theocracy may well be met with contin-ued protests and uprisings.

The real issue for the Middle East is notwhether it will be secular or Islamic. In manyways, this is a false dichotomy and a distractionfrom much greater concerns. What one is wit-nessing in the region is a simultaneous conver-gence of multiple social, economic, and politicalvectors bringing things into sharp relief. Look-ing at the conditions in these countries, therewere clear indications that storms were brewing.Despite the substantial wealth that narrow self-serving elites enjoyed (some of which trickleddown to the middle classes), economic stagna-tion was rife; combined with rising prices forbasic foodstuffs and high unemployment amongeducated, tech-savvy but disenfranchised youththis created an extremely volatile mix. What thepeople of the region now have to do is find ways

Allowing themilitary to retainsubstantialeconomicinterests may bea prudent move.

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to strike a different social contract by translat-ing the popular momentum for greater politicalfreedoms, effective rule of law, and better livingconditions that brought down their autocratsinto representative capacity. And if the Indone-

sian example teaches anything, it is that moder-ate Islam and democratic development are notincompatible bedfellows.

Ahmadinejad’s Style Italiano Sleek, tailored suits can always lend a hand in winning over supporters or electoral votes in the worldof politics. But for Iranian president Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, his evolving smart style could under-mine his political stature.

Although Ahmadinejad is not running in Iran’s 2013 presidential race, he is still an importantfigurehead for Iran and must dress the part.

As of late, Ahmadinejad has been spotted in more sophisticated clothing than he boasted duringhis initial election run in 2005, including an Italian-style dark blue pinstripe suit worn at last week’sworld conference of Ulama and Islamic awakening, for example.

In his early days, his clothing reflected that he “was truly a man of the people,” reported TheGuardian’s Saeed Kamali Dehghan, citing his supporters.

Ahmadinejad first rose to power as mayor with a more humble wardrobe. A trademark whitejacket appeared to be a favorite choice for the president.

In 2009, British journalist Ed West described the notorious white jacket as “an item of clothingalmost as offensive as his political views.”

But slowly, as the president became an important icon of power in the world, his trademarkpolyester jackets gave way to tailored suits.

Former MP Mostafa Reza-Hosseini Ghotbabadi pointed out that the change did not go unno-ticed, telling the British newspaper: “Ahmadinejad’s characteristics have changed, his jackets arereplaced with formal suits.”

The original white jacket was sold at an auction two years ago for about $52,600. By the timeit was put up for sale, it had a hole under its left arm.

Now, as Iran prepares for a six-week election flurry, the 57-year-old Ahmadinejad—who cannotrun for a third term—has been spotted once again wearing jackets of a similar style, but has also keptup with the suits while in Tehran.

SyndiGate.info (Amman), May 8, 2013