On March 29, I woke to the news that the heads of almost every Arab state and Iran were speaking out in support of Syrian President Bashar al-Assad, whose country had begun to feel the thaw of the “Arab Spring.”
Never before did the realpolitik of foreign policy seem so nakedly apparent: regional and international leaders spout rhetoric endlessly when the occasion suits, but their strategic interests are laid bare when they are threatened.
In every Arab country that has witnessed unrest, governing is led by the Ministry of the Interior and the Ministry of Foreign Affairs — not the ministries of economy, social works, health or education. Unsurprisingly, nothing in Arab leaders’ words of support for Assad portrayed any understanding of why the people were still uprising despite the hundreds of deaths, injuries and arrests.
When Muammar al-Qadhafi began attacking his own people in Libya, his only steadfast support came from Venezuela’s Hugo Chavez; indeed, the Arab League backed United Nations intervention against Qadhafi.
So, why the double standard? What is clear is that there are no enemies, only interests. And it is in the interest of the powerful that Assad stay in power.
For the Syrian in the street — demonstrating for the development of his country, for his dignity, for his freedom — is all the Arab world, indeed the entire world, against him? It would seem so. And yet for thousands, the agony of remaining voiceless outweighs the risks of speaking — and to speak out in Syria is to risk everything.
While mass protests and the ensuing security crackdown have been brought to the world by videos posted on the Internet, there is a singular reality on the streets of Daraa, Damascus, Latakia, Aleppo and the rest.
They are alone.
