IN THE NEWS
Since every news outlet is already abuzz about what will happen in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, now that Yassir Arafat has died, I'm going to take a somewhat different slant on the topic. Obviously, this isn't the first time in history that the torch of leadership passes from some founding charismatic figure (in this case, The Chairman) to another generation of leaders. Max Weber called this process the institutionalization of charisma, a painful but necessary stage of development. While this might sound like a dusty, overly academic topic, it actually has direct and vital relevance to American foreign policy towards the Middle East.
Weber wasn't the first person to document this phenomenon--Rousseau's discussion of "the lawgiver" in The Social Contract is essentially an analysis of the same thing--but Weber, in many ways, did it best. Charisma, in Weber's use of the word, isn't about popularity, good looks, a pleasing voice, or some other superficial measure of attractiveness. Charisma, in its original meaning (the one Weber uses), is the rare quality some people have of somehow standing outside the normal constraints of history, steering history instead of being steered by it. Often, the individual in question--for example, Moses, Luther, Buddha, Mohammed, Khomeini--appears to have been touched by the divine. Others--Napoleon, Washington, Lenin, Mao, to name a few--appear to have a conduit to some other greater power, albeit a more secular one. The phenomenon is the same, whether or not God or the gods sanctify the charismatic leader.
While the charismatic leader is alive, events may be tumultuous--wars, revolutions, mass conversions to the leader's new doctrine, huge movements of population--but, in some ways, the situation is simple for adherents: follow the leader. Once the leader dies, however, and no one can take his place, the situation becomes more difficult. If no one can take the leader's place, how then to carry on the movement he started? Who among the surviving leaders can best carry forward this creed? Is there a way to translate the leader's words into law and custom? The schism after the death of Mohammed between Sunnis and Shi'a shows exactly how difficult this transition--the institutionalization of charisma--can be.
Whatever your opinion of Arafat, he had this kind of unique role within the movement for Palestinian independence. After the humiliating defeat in the 1967 Arab-Israeli War, the current generation of Arab leaders appeared feckless. Attention quickly shifted from the cosmopolitan, traditional Arab notables to a new generation of radical, militant leaders, of which Yassir Arafat as head of the Fatah faction of the PLO seemed the most effective. While, over tea in Cairo, Damascus, and Beirut, the notables quibbled over next steps, the young radicals took action. For the many still shocked by the 1967 war, swift, tangible defiance--including, sadly, incidents like the Black September massacre of the Israeli Olympic team--was preferable to doing nothing.
Throughout the next several decades, Arafat certainly had his wins and losses. Arabs were used to this narrative: had not the Prophet fled from Mecca, only to return later as a triumphant conqueror? He also made his fair share of mistakes, such as making public statements in support of Iraq's invasion of Kuwait. Like Saddam Hussein, however, he was a consummate survivor, and he became a more effective symbol of Arab defiance than Hussein ever was.
Arafat was no lawgiver. Nothing like the Napoleonic code, Shari'a law, or the Ten Commandments will survive him. He has bequeathed, however, the spirit of defiance--often to self-destructive extremes--to the Palestinian movement. When Israelis surrounded his compouned in Ramallah with tanks, even Palestinians who were disenchanted with the elderly Arafat and the corrupt Palestinian Authority rallied to the side of The Chairman. It's hard to imagine that elan disappearing with his death.
For the rest of us mortals who are not charismatic leaders, we have to be more patient with the pace of history, and more circumspect about our ability to affect it. When opportunities arise, therefore, it's important to take advantage of them. Arafat's death is one such opportunity, not only because his personal obstructionism--to the peace process, to reform of the Palestinian Authority, to ceding power to another generation of leaders--is now gone. It's also important to recognize that Arafat's legacy, the institutionalization of charisma, is happening now. However Americans can support Palestinian efforts to move that legacy in the right direction, the US government should seize those opportunities.
The rest of the time, the American role in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict moves more slowly, and often less productively. Opportunities have opened before, such as Arafat's sudden humility and flexibility after Operation DESERT STORM. He backed the wrong side, and now he had to be more willing to take steps with the Israelis he otherwise would not have contemplated. The road to Oslo started in Kuwait City; unfortunately, it never stretched all the way to Jerusalem.
Diplomacy towards the Middle East, by necessity, involved a long-term investment of American political capital. The payoff will not come immediately; it will, however, make it possible to seize opportunities when they arise. The less engaged we are, as the Bush Administration has remained (except for its continued backing of Israeli Prime Minister Ariel Sharon), the less capable we are of exploiting these opportunities. We don't have the contacts, the credibility, the overall leverage needed to help resolve the strife that fuels or excuses far too many other Middle Eastern conflicts.
The traditional approach to Middle Eastern diplomacy, therefore, is a lot like the work of venture capitalists. You invest your resources in a number of projects, and carefully shephered them forward, using the somewhat indirect means at your disposal. Other parties run the companies in which you invested; you can only hope to influence these ventures through your investment. In contrast, the Bush Administration has behaved more like someone hoping to strike it rich in Las Vegas, betting wildly on high-risk, potentially high-payoff wagers. The gambler doesn't normally sneer at the venture capitalist. The investor is simply trying to make money in a different way than the gambler. Both understand the risks and rewards--at least the successful ones do.