The popular uprisings in Tunisia and Egypt have inspired widespread dissent across the Middle East and left leaders desperately seeking to calm unrest in their own countries. Many regimes have increased subsidies and wages, with some even giving cash handouts. And they have coupled economic measures with political ones: promises to lift emergency rule in Algeria, suspension of proposed constitutional amendments that would extend the president's term in Yemen, a call for new Palestinian elections, and the appointment of a new prime minister in Jordan.
These reactions are unlikely to satisfy the yearning for change. Across the Arab world and in Iran as well, ordinary people now believe they can stand up against entrenched dictators to demand their rights. Tunisia sent a message that change is possible, and Egypt demonstrated that even defiant dictators enjoying long-standing U.S. support can be forced out. But whether the burgeoning dissent will translate into new kinds of governance in other countries depends on a variety of factors.
The one certainty is that grievances are widespread. According to the United Nations Development Program's Arab Development Report, 60% of Yemenis, 40% of Algerians and Moroccans, and 30% of Syrians live below the national poverty line. This is in comparison to 40% and 23% of the populations in Egypt and Tunisia, respectively. National income is far higher in Saudi Arabia, but even there an estimated 30% of Saudi nationals live below the national poverty line.
In small gulf states — Kuwait, Qatar, the United Arab Emirates and Bahrain — where citizens are outnumbered by expatriate workers, regimes are somewhat more insulated from the pressure for change. Facing financial crises and declining oil reserves, rulers have sought to diversify economies and wean people off the "nanny state," but citizens still enjoy the benefits of living atop oil — free education and healthcare, along with handsome financial subsidies.
Still, even in countries with higher standards of living, there is a growing sense of outrage at inequality and repression. Shiite Bahrainis chafe under the Sunni minority's rule. Kuwaitis push against the limited "democracy" their parliament permits, and the Iranians now returning to the streets still smart from the 2009 elections. Across the region, citizens resent the ostentatious spending of their countries' ruling elites.
Youth, a primary engine of change in Tunisia and Egypt, make up the majority of the population across the region, and they are profoundly discontented. The U.N.'s International Labor Organization reports that the Middle East faces the highest unemployment rates in the world, and young people are the most likely to be affected. They feel their futures are being stolen, in many cases by 70- and 80-year-olds unwilling to make way for new generations.
But the anger of the masses doesn't mean those in power will go willingly, especially in countries where rulers come from ethnic or religious minority groups. In such cases, ruling elites see their most basic interests — even their lives — at stake in their bids to retain power. In Egypt and Tunisia, most top officials were Sunni Muslim Arabs, as is the majority of the population. The same is true in Algeria and Yemen, where opposition rages. In Iran, most of the ruling elite are of Persian descent, a majority in an ethnically fragmented society.
But elsewhere, those in power are members of minority groups, and they have even more reason to fear a transition to democracy. Such is the case not only in Bahrain but also in Syria, where the inner circle belongs to the Alawite minority group. In Jordan, the societal fault line is around national origin; the Hashemite king draws his support from Jordanians of East Bank origin, while the majority of Jordanians are originally from Palestine.
Minority-based regimes can be expected to fight back hard if challenged. The military showed some restraint in Tunisia and Egypt in part because generals shared the same ethnic backgrounds as the protesters. This meant they would not automatically lose their base of support under a new regime, so they may have felt less threatened by the uprisings.
In Syria, on the other hand, a hands-off approach is unlikely. In 1982, the regime of Hafez Assad (the current president's father) ruthlessly suppressed an uprising, killing between 15,000 and 30,000 Syrians. The massacre may have heightened hostility against the regime, but it also contributed to the near-total decimation of open dissent. Opposition is now based mostly in London and Paris, and thus not surprisingly its call for a Feb. 4 "day of rage" sank like a stone. Syrians may have heard the call to action, but they also knew too well what to expect in response.
