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READING COMPREHENSION
1. An awkward absence
You do not see many milestones on the floor of the ocean, but one was passed this week. May 13th was the deadline for the submission of new claims to the seabed, and from pole to pole coastal states have been asserting ownership of vast chunks of continental shelf in a rush for territory unrivalled since the scramble for Africa at the end of the 19th century. The treasure this time is not ivory or cocoa beans but petroleum, or at least the promise of it, and perhaps amazing fuels and wonder drugs, as well as gold, silver and other minerals. The claims will now be accepted or rejected by a United Nations commission, but one big maritime power will, by choice, be absent: the United States. Unlike 156 other countries, America has never ratified the 27-year-old UN Convention on the Law of the Sea, under which this carve-up is taking place. That is no worse than unfortunate: the deadline applies only to states that acceded to the treaty more than ten years ago and America still has time to make its claims. But first it will have to ratify the treaty. This the Obama administration, like its two most recent predecessors, wants to do, as probably does most of the Senate, which must provide its advice and consent. A determined minority, however, wants to block it, and finding the time for the necessary procedure may prove difficult. America’s original objections to the treaty related to the requirement that its companies should share technical information with poor countries. The treaty was changed to meet those complaints. Now the objectors say it would lead to a loss of sovereignty. In fact it would do the opposite, since it would allow America to claim sovereign rights over both the exclusive economic zone that extends 200 nautical miles (370 km) from its shores and also its share of the continental shelf beyond that, so long as certain geophysical criteria were satisfied. The treaty does other useful things. It provides for the right of passage by sea for all countries’ armed forces, and for almost all shipping through other states’ territorial waters if the passage is innocent. An absolute right of passage is given in international straits and certain archipelagos, such as Indonesia. Such provisions can only benefit American national security. And just as America needs the treaty, so the treaty needs America. The sea is badly in need of better management. It is over-fished, chiefly, it is true, in coastal waters, but also in the great expanses that belong to no state. The sea is increasingly used as a rubbish bin, filled with poisons, plastics and other pollutants. Parts of it are infested with pirates. All of it is growing alarmingly acidic, as the carbon dioxide spewed out by modern activities finds its way into the water. And much of the CO 2 that causes this problem derives from oil and gas made less scarce by the reserves now recoverable from below it. Nowhere is this last paradox more apparent than in the Arctic, where global warming means melting ice, which in turn means easier access to huge quantities of petroleum, most of it offshore. At the same time the once-icy Arctic may be opening up to shipping through the North West Passage, bringing the possibility of collisions, oil spills and other environmental horrors in a particularly vulnerable part of the world. For the people—and animals—who live in the polar region, even the law-of-the-sea treaty, fashioned in an era unconcerned about global warming, may provide inadequate safeguards. The treaty is certainly not going to solve all the troubles afflicting the oceans, nor settle all the world’s maritime disputes. But it can help. To be effective, though, it needs America. Ratification has waited too long. The Senate should press ahead. [ The Economist , 16 May 2009]
- Explain the author’s comparison between the seabed and 19th-century Africa.
- “the necessary procedure may prove difficult” (highlighted) – procedure for what?
- Which two objections did the US make to the UN Convention on the Law of the Sea, and how were these objections countered?
- Why are the seas and oceans in need of better management?
- Why do you think America’s ratification of the treaty will lead to better management of the sea?
- Why is the relationship between increased C0 2 in the sea and melting ice in the Arctic a “paradox” (highlighted)?
- Apart from potential environmental disasters, what might be the geopolitical advantages of opening up the North West Passage to shipping?
- What is the opposite of “loss of sovereignty” (highlighted)?
- Give the meaning of these words and phrases (highlighted) in the text:
- rush for territory - acceded to - if the passage is innocent - badly - fashioned
2. Companies aren’t charities
Successful corporations are like David Beckham. Both excel at one thing: in Mr Beckham’s case, kicking a ball; in the corporations’ case, making profits. They may also be reasonably adept at other things, but their chief contribution to society comes from their area of specialisation. Ann Bernstein, the head of a South African think-tank called the Centre for Development and Enterprise, thinks that advocates of corporate social responsibility (CSR) tend to miss this point. In her new book, The Case for Business in Developing Economies , she stresses the ways companies benefit society simply by going about their normal business. In a free and competitive market, firms profit by selling goods or services to willing customers. To stay in business, they must offer lower prices or higher quality than their competitors. Those that fail, disappear. Those that succeed spread prosperity. Shareholders receive dividends. Employees earn wages. Suppliers win contracts. Ordinary people gain access to luxuries such as television, air-conditioning and antibiotics. These are not new arguments, but Ms Bernstein makes them fresh by writing from an African perspective. In South Africa, where more than a third of the workforce is jobless, the problem is not that corporations are unethical but that there are not enough of them. One reason is that South Africa’s leaders blithely heap social responsibilities on corporate shoulders. Strict environmental laws cause long delays in building homes. This is nice for endangered butterflies, but tough for South Africans who live in shacks. Such laws also slow the construction of power plants, contributing to the blackouts that crippled South Africa in 2008. South African labour laws make it hard to fire workers, which deters companies from hiring them in the first place. And a programme of “Black Economic Empowerment”, which pressures firms to transfer shares to blacks, has made a few well-connected people rich while discouraging investment. Sometimes the pressure on business to solve social problems comes not from governments, but from non- governmental organisations (NGOs). Ms Bernstein cites the example of a pipeline that Exxon built in Chad. The giant oil firm spent six years trying to figure out the best way to comply with the “Equator Principles”, an ambitious set of goals for avoiding harm to nature and indigenous people. Exxon strained every sinew to preserve the habitat of gorillas and compensate displaced villagers. Yet NGOs still mounted a furious campaign condemning it. “Many reasonable companies must surely have concluded … that investment in poor countries is not worth the effort,” sighs Ms Bernstein. Anti-corporate activists sometimes claim that big companies are mightier than governments. This is absurd. Governments can pass laws, raise taxes and declare war. Companies have virtually no powers of coercion. If people do not voluntarily buy their products, they go bankrupt. Business is thus extremely sensitive to public opinion. This is often a good thing. Ms Bernstein cites the example of white-owned shops in South Africa under apartheid. When black shoppers started boycotting them, “it was remarkable how rapidly most white shop owners were prepared to ditch racist practices.” Yet companies can also be bullied into doing the wrong thing. When multinationals bow to pressure from campaigners against “sweatshops” and sever links with suppliers in poor countries, the workers who previously stitched shoes for export may end up scavenging from rubbish heaps. Advocates of CSR argue that firms should pursue the “triple bottom line”: not only profits, but also environmental protection and social justice. This notion, if taken seriously, is “incomprehensible”, says Ms Bernstein. Profits are easy to measure. The many and often conflicting demands of a local community are not. A business that is accountable to all is in effect accountable to no one, says Ms Bernstein. She does not take the absolutist view that companies should strive only to maximise profits while obeying the rules. In poor countries, the rules are often unclear. Multinationals will face choices where what is locally acceptable would be criminal back home. Obviously, they should err on the side of rectitude, but it is far from obvious where to draw the line. In the most benighted areas they will sometimes build roads and schools to keep the locals friendly. They will brag about such acts, but they are simply a cost of doing business, not an instance of corporate altruism. Ms Bernstein glosses over the innovative work a few companies have done in integrating CSR into their strategy, and she is better at identifying problems than offering solutions. She urges businesses to defend capitalism as energetically as they promote their own products. She thinks companies should provide incentives for market- oriented journalism, films and even novels. Good luck with that. Businesses strenuously lobby for particular favours from government, and chambers of commerce campaign for lighter regulation. But the companies that are so brilliant at selling the fruits of capitalism—from iPads to medicine—are seldom much good at popularising the system that yields them. [ The Economist , 21 October 2010]
- Explain “miss this point” (highlighted).
- What are the chief contributions that corporations make to society?
- What are “willing customers” (highlighted)?
- How does Ann Bernstein make her argument more interesting and relevant?
3. US and NATO
“Europe is too thickly planted with kingdoms to be long at peace,” wrote Thomas Paine some two centuries ago. Since then, many things have changed, but not America’s scepticism about Europe. Speaking at the National Defense University some weeks ago, Secretary Gates expressed the fear that “demilitarization of Europe – where large sections of the general public and political class are averse to military force and its accompanying risks – has turned from a blessing in the 20th century to an impediment to achieving real security and lasting peace in the 21st .” In short, Europe is planted with too many pacifist democracies to be long enough at war. What does all this mean for the future of NATO? Andrew Bacevich, a respected and fiercely independent analyst of American foreign policy, gives his answer in an intriguing piece titled “Let Europe Be Europe: Why the United States must withdraw from NATO” in the current issue of Foreign Policy. He argues that the pacification of Europe’s liberal democracies is an irreversible process and that Washington’s hope to re-ignite the affinity for war among the people of Germany or Spain is misplaced. In his opinion, contrary to the claims of its leaders, NATO is unsuited for the role of global crisis manager; thus, Washington should abandon its ambitions for a global NATO. Rather, it should push the EU to play a more central role in the defence of the European continent. The EU can best assist the US by managing its own security, not by joining the US in global police missions. However, the central question is whether the EU can defend Europe. In terms of capability, the answer is probably “yes.” Take Russia, for example. Russia is a formidable power, but it is not the Soviet Union. The combined military spending of the EU member states is ten times higher than that of Moscow. British and French armed forces are far better equipped and far better trained than the Russians. Russia resembles more an angry man on crutches [ stampelle ] than a rising power. Still, a radical American withdrawal from Europe would have a de-stabilizing effect, as it might result in the re-nationalization of the foreign and security policies of the EU member states. The sad reality today is that, when it comes to Russia, Berlin and Paris prefer bilateral talks with Moscow, while Eastern Europe prefers to look to Washington rather than Brussels. Secondly, you don’t need to be a Rumsfeld to believe that weakness is an invitation for aggression. The US’s withdrawal from Europe might change Russia’s strategic behavior on the continent and dramatically increase the risk of military confrontation in Europe’s periphery. The US’s withdrawal would also increase uncertainty in the EU-Turkey security dialogue. At the moment, Turkey is on its way to joining the EU, but her foreign policy is diverging from that of her European allies. The spectre of a multi-polar Europe – with the EU, Russia, and Turkey representing different interests – is more present than ever. Add to all this the countless logistical problems that the US’s withdrawal would cause, and you realise the dangerous side of Bacevich’s argument. But where Andrew Bacevich is totally right is that the US’s relations with its European allies should shift back to Europe. Making Afghanistan the issue over which the future of NATO is going to be decided is a recipe for disaster. [“Venus is from Europe”, Ivan Krastev, World Affairs , 8 March 2010]
- Explain the meaning of “some” (highlighted) in context.
- Why is the US so sceptical about Europe as a NATO partner?
- Explain “a blessing in the 20th century to an impediment to achieving real security and lasting peace in the 21st” (highlighted).
- Why does Andrew Bacevich believe that “Washington should abandon its ambitions for a global NATO” (highlighted)?
- Explain the meaning of “pacification” (highlighted) in this context.
- Why would Russia be likely to lose in a military confrontation with the EU?
- In what sense does Russia resemble “an angry man on crutches” (highlighted)?
- What does “re-nationalization“ (highlighted) mean in “the re-nationalization of the foreign and security policies of the EU member states?
- Why would the US’s withdrawal increase uncertainty in the EU-Turkey security dialogue?
- What does “all this (highlighted)” refer to?
4. Iraq war: six lessons we still need to learn
The mistakes made in Iraq should inform any future foreign intervention and teach us about the limitations of power. There is a temptation to draw a line under the Iraq war and to write it off as a regrettable occurrence , best consigned to history. But there is much we can learn from the experience about the challenges facing countries in transition , the limitations of our power and the unintended consequences of foreign intervention. First, interventions require legitimacy. While the rationale for intervening will always be based on an interpretation of national interests, the levels of local, regional and international support will influence its chance of success. The legitimacy of the Iraq intervention was disputed from the outset and can only be understood against the backdrop of 9/11 and American fear of a further attack on the homeland. Second, interventions need to have limited, clear and realistic goals – and be well resourced. After the failure to find weapons of mass destruction in Iraq, the rationale for the war shifted from regime change to the grandiose scheme of implanting democracy. There was always a mismatch between goals, plans, organisation and resources. Third, the collapse of the state leads to communal violence. In any society, it is the state that provides the framework in which different communities co-exist and compete. The challenge is how to purge a regime of its worst elements while at the same time maintaining the state. The decisions taken by the US-UK coalition to formally occupy the country (without enough forces), dismiss the Iraqi security forces (rather than recall them) and implement deep de-Ba'athification (rather than only remove those who had committed crimes against the Iraqi people) led to the collapse of the state and communal violence. Fourth, an inclusive elite agreement is critical to gain widespread support for the new order. The elite pact cobbled together in Iraq essentially ensured Shia Islamist domination, supported by Kurdish nationalists. It was heavily weighted towards exiles who had opposed Saddam and who used their relationship with the coalition to exclude key sections of society who had remained in Iraq all along. The road map for transition, therefore, was rejected by those barred from the new order – it led not to stability but to greater violence. Fifth, elections do not necessarily bestow legitimacy on the new order. While the 2005 elections were heralded as an important marker on the road to democracy, they actually served to exacerbate inter-communal tensions in Iraq as politicians increasingly used sectarianism to mobilise support. The new elites were more focused on capturing power than on delivering services to the people. Electoral systems are not neutral and the way in which they are designed can affect relations between and among communities. While the first election brings new elites to power, it is the second election that determines how these elites will yield power. It defines whether the new order will be one in which power will be shared or transferred peacefully and democratic bodies strengthened – or whether the state will be captured and institutions subverted to the will of the new autocratic rulers. Finally, interventions inevitably have unintended consequences. The intervention in Iraq led to civil war and the deaths of over 100,000 Iraqis. It turned the country into a battlefield of regional powers, rather than a buffer. The weakness of the new Iraq has helped enable the resurgence of Iran, setting off a regional power struggle between Saudi Arabia and Turkey on one side and Iran on the other – with tragic consequences in Syria. There is a risk that we will take the wrong lessons from Iraq. Billions of American and British taxpayers' money was spent on "nation building" in Iraq with unimpressive results as the "new order" remained highly contested. We put insufficient effort into brokering national-level reconciliation between Iraq's elites and into ensuring checks and balances on the power of the executive. And we wasted energies on initiatives that were neither critical nor sustainable. The Iraq we left behind is drifting towards authoritarianism and disintegration rather than towards democracy. Some officials continue to place all the blame for Iraq's woes on "ancient hatreds" between the different communities – or to blame al-Qaida and Iran. Saddam's violent rule certainly had created "modern" hatreds among communities that had lived together, mostly peacefully, for centuries, but inter-marriage between Sunni and Shia people remained common and so did a sense of Iraqi identity, at least among the Arab population. Al-Qaida and Iran definitely exacerbated the violence in Iraq – but were not the cause of the civil war. If we internalise the right lessons from Iraq, we will develop a better match between our national interests and our capabilities. If we do not do so , we may well be destined to make wrong assumptions when we consider how to respond to increasing instability in the Middle East. [Emma Sky, The Guardian , 11 March 2013]
- What were the US’s legitimate reasons for the war in Iraq at the beginning?
- How did these reasons evolve at a later stage?
- What was the negative consequence of the collapse of the state for the Iraqi population?
- Which parts of the elite were favoured by the road map for transition towards the new order in Iraq?
- What was the main concern of the new elites after they were elected in 2005?
- How did the weakness of the new Iraq affect its neighbouring countries?
5. Why Britain still wants to fight Europe on the beaches
As D-Day reminds us, the EU was born out of war, and Britain's heroic view of that conflict shapes its hostile attitude. The beaches are quiet now, every last trace of blood washed away. How rapidly the earth had healed, how quickly the calm and beauty of Normandy – once noisy with the clamour of war, the soil once sodden with blood – had been restored. Today I watched the 70th anniversary events from afar, on television. I was moved once more by the sight of the remaining veterans, fewer this time, come to say thank you, or goodbye, to the comrades who fell at their sides
- friends for ever frozen in youth. Watching on a news channel meant I also saw the news ticker crawling along the bottom of the screen , bringing word of events elsewhere. The ticker is usually a distraction from the main story on the screen. But not this time, because these events are connected. The extent to which the politics of 2014 is still shaped by the events of 1944, and attitudes to Europe were formed in the shadow of the Second World War, is most obvious in Britain, but it is not peculiar to these islands. Both the historical pro-Europeanism of the continent and the British scepticism that opposes it are, in part, the consequences of that epic conflict. It's true that anti-EU parties fared well in last month’s European elections, but in most cases that success came in nations long committed to the European project – with the triumph of Marine Le Pen's Front National in France the most obvious example. Ukip's 27% in Britain represented far less radical a break, for this country has only ever been ambivalent at best about Europe. France's former prime minister Michel Rocard put it starkly when he wrote that Britain should leave the European Union – “go before you wreck everything” – but he put his finger on something real. "You do not like Europe," he argued, all but adding the words "and you never have". He explained that when Britain joined, 41 years ago, it was on a misunderstanding. "You never shared the true meaning of the project which Winston Churchill, speaking on your behalf, set out in Zurich in 1946 with his incredible words: 'We must build a kind of United States of Europe …'" Rocard was surely right on this point – and right to trace Britain's ambivalence all the way back to the immediate aftermath of the war. For Britons never felt the urgent need for "ever closer union" that brought the first European dreamers together. Britons had not seen their land invaded and occupied; indeed, they were proud that the boots of no foreign army had trodden British soil for a thousand years. Though the hunger for a new political settlement was severe in Britain – severe enough to sweep away the great war leader himself in Labour's 1945 landslide victory – the country did not see itself as one that had to be rebuilt from scratch. Put simply, Britons saw "Europe" as the solution to a problem Britain didn't have. It was a remedy for others, nations whose previous order had been utterly discredited, like France, or whose very national identity had to be reconstituted, like Germany. Churchill's call for a United States of Europe sounds like federalist fanaticism of a kind that would see him expelled from today's Conservative party, until you read the quotation in full – and realise that he excluded Britain from this grand design. Britain would stand alongside the Commonwealth, the US and the Soviet Union as "friends and sponsors of the new Europe" – but would not be in it. Of course, there are other causes for British Euroscepticism, but it is the war that forms its bedrock. Both 1940 and 1944, the twin pillars of the creation myth of modern Britain, established a national narrative of apartness – of the solitary British soldier declaring “Very well, alone” before riding to the rescue of continentals who could not be trusted to defend democracy. There are few more seasoned observers of this complex relationship than Charles Grant, director of the Centre for European Reform. He's asked all the time to explain Britons' tepid attitudes to the EU. Part of it, he says, is that we "had a good war and think all the others were either on the wrong side or ran away and were defeated". This is the gap between us and our European partners. As Rocard wrote, for Britain, Europe was always about trade and not much else. But for a continent ravaged by war twice in 30 years, and for centuries before that, the European project was a matter of life and death – of replacing bloody conflict with co-operation, allowing dilution of national sovereignty to be the price. This is why we're so often stroppy and difficult, the irritant and naysayer – why we're the ones now leading the opposition to the arch-federalist Juncker. The former Luxembourg PM, who once talked of his fondness for "secret, dark debates", rails against the Euro-hating British press, and while we might accuse him of being over- sensitive, we can hardly say he's wrong. The British media – and not just the mouth-foamers on the right – do indeed reserve a special disdain for the Eurocrats of Brussels. It's not just Charles Moore referring to "a fat Belgian" to describe a past European eminence. Take the BBC coverage of the battle to fill the commission presidency: Jeremy Paxman introduced a Newsnight item on the contest this week with a sarcasm striking even by his acid standards , while Today delegated the task of assessing the candidates to … Terry Wogan^1.
Seventy years have passed, and yet an event few of us remember shapes the way we see the world. Apparently age shall not weary^2 our habit of viewing current threats through a lens formed in 1939, of seeing every menace as the new Hitler – the way both Prince Charles and Hillary Clinton immediately saw Vladimir Putin's annexation of Crimea. Barack Obama may have wanted to pivot to Asia, but here he is – back in Europe, re-arming and speaking of America's unbreakable bonds with its allies from seven decades ago. The heroes of Normandy have a good claim to have saved the world that June day. But they shaped it too – and shape it even now. [Jonathan Freedland, The Guardian, 6 June 2014] (^1) a radio disk-jockey and later a leading media personality in the UK since the late 1960s. (^2) this is a reference to a poem, For the Fallen , by Laurence Binyon (1869-1943) The fourth stanza reads: They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old. Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn. At the going down of the sun and in the morning, We will remember them. It is read aloud at the annual First World War Rembrance Service in Whitehall, London, attended by the monarch.
- What is D-Day?
- Explain “friends for ever frozen in youth” (highlighted).
- What is a “news ticker crawling along the bottom of the screen” (highlighted)?
- What are the events in “these events” (highlighted).
- What do “were formed” and “that epic conflict” (both highlighted) refer back to in the text?
- Rewrite “for this country has only ever been ambivalent at best about Europe” (highlighted) to make its meaning clear.
- What is “everything” in ““go before you wreck everything” (highlighted)?
- Name some of the “European dreamers” (highlighted).
- Why did Britons not feel the need to be more closely united with Europe?
- Who was the “the great war leader” (highlighted)?
- What was the “problem Britain didn't have” (highlighted)?
- Explain “see him expelled” (highlighted).
- What alternative to a united Europe that included Britain did Churchill propose?
- Why were 1940 and 1944 the twin pillars of the creation myth of modern Britain?
- What is the gap (highlighted) between the UK and its European partners?
- What is the role of national sovereignty in the differing views of Britain and the European countries concerning a united Europe?
- Explain meaning of “hardly” in “we can hardly say he's wrong” (highlighted).
- What is the event few Britons remember (seond-last para.)?
- Why did Prince Charles and Hilary Clinton compare Putin to Hitler”
- Why does Obama’s behaviour seem paradoxical (seond-last para.)
- Explain the meaning of these phrases (highlighted) in the text.
- landslide victory - rebuilt from scratch - mouth-foamers - acid standards
- What does “it” (highlighted) refer to in para. 5?
- “Which pushes down the price” (highlighted). The price of what (para. 5)?
- Which two procedures for reducing carbon emissions are compared in para. 5?
- Why should Europe be responsible for persuading the rest of the world to change its emissions policies (para. 6)
- “The numerous exemptions … which allow companies to ignore it should be removed” (para. 7). Exemptions from what? What does “it” refer to?
- How is it suggested that paying more attention to the carbon market would result in bigger benefits to the economy as a whole (para. 7)?
- How would removing exorbitant subsidies give companies an incentive to invest in cheaper ways to cut emissions (para. 7)?
- What is “shale gas” (highlighted, (para. 7)? You may answer in Italian if you prefer.
- Explain the meaning of these phrases (highlighted) in the text:
- jaw-dropping - get serious - follow suit
7. Cyprus: a real chance at unification?
As deep-seated tensions and divisions elsewhere in Europe reach breaking point, away from the headlines the small island of Cyprus has taken another faltering step towards a long overdue unification. This outpost of Europe, adrift in the turbulent seas of the Middle East, has been split for the last 40 years between a Greek south and Turkish north. However, progress towards unification has been made. After months of painstaking negotiation, a joint agreement has been signed between the two leaders, Nicos Anastasiades and Dervis Eroglu, paving the way for UN-backed unification talks—suspended for the past 18 months —to restart. Since then, negotiators from both sides have paid a visit to each other’s powerful backers, Athens and Ankara, a move unprecedented in its positivity. But at the same time, the Cypriot government has been rocked by the departure of the junior coalition partner DIKO from power , its leader claiming that the joint declaration had given the Turkish Cypriots too much. How optimistic should we be about the success of these talks? The history of Cyprus’s division is a tortuous one of false starts and misplaced hope. In this split island, each side feels it has as much to lose as to win: the Greeks that their political and economic power may be watered down by a minority; the Turks that their religious and cultural heritage will be subsumed by their southern neighbours. The joint agreement is a fudge, promising a single sovereignty externally and a dual citizenship internally in an effort to allay the fears of the Greeks and Turks respectively. It sounds impractical, but in this hyper-political context, it could work. The key issue is not the wording, but the vision for the future: can the two halves overcome their bloody history to envisage a joint Cyprus? On the island, the division sometimes feels anachronistic. The borders are open and the causes of the division feel distant—the threats of a Greek military coup and responding Turkish invasion of 1974, after years of conflict that followed independence from Britain. In those turbulent years, when Turks still lived alongside Greeks, violence flared continually , often around issues of power-sharing, taxation and joint municipalities. The military junta in Greece began to push a union between Greece and Cyprus, culminating in a coup d’état against the resistant President Makarios in July 1974. Turkey responded by invading, ostensibly to protect Turkish Cypriots from Greek military domination. A second invasion in August eventually annexed 40 per cent of the island. The legality of that invasion has long been disavowed by the international community, who have never recognised the Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus. And so, Cyprus is where it is today: a divided island, its northern half recognised only by its sponsor in Ankara. The division is seemingly absent to tourists who cross the border for a day’s sightseeing, but still very much alive to citizens on either side. Observers easily forget that this is a division in the sinews of these tiny communities— between Greeks and Turks, Christians and Muslims, west and east—embedded in history and now expressed through religion, politics and culture. Nowhere is that clearer than in Nicosia. This neat, compact city is split in two by a UN- guarded Green Zone that marks the limits of the Turkish invasion. The rotting buildings and fractured asphalt of the Green Zone are a monument to the painful rupture in this country, the border marking a generation of conflict and death, of property stolen and communities split, with its huge signs proclaiming “TRNC [Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus] FOREVER” and “Welcome to Greek Cyprus.” The signing of the joint agreement is the most positive sign in the recent history of the division. Ten long years after the last serious attempts at unification, the two sides have made it back to the table. That both sides are suffering economically has helped provide motivation, forcing them to reconsider the benefits of unification, but, independently of that, the political will seems to be strong. Reunification would provide a huge boost to the north, where wages are cripplingly low and economic growth is stultified. The Greeks, too, stand to benefit , allowing full exploitation of the hydrocarbon reserves found off shore, and the renewal of once-popular tourist grounds. Critically , there is unprecedented support on both sides. The Turkish and Greek youth have long been supportive, but the two main parties and major commerce organisations on either side have now signed up too. There is, at last, economic and political impetus. Even so, Cyprus has been here before. The closest previous attempt, the 2004 Annan Plan, garnered heavyweight UN backing but foundered on vitriolic propaganda from both sides, with politicians and media playing on old stereotypes of the land-grabbing Turk and the obtuse, arrogant Greek. The same could easily happen again, despite the personal involvement of John Kerry in this round of talks. But his attention is much divided at the moment, this is one of his less high-profile negotiations; the Turkish Cypriot Foreign Minister Ozdil Nami visited Washington last week but was reportedly unable to meet the Secretary of State personally. Minority political parties have already begun to attack the agreement and the press have been trading accusations of land grabs and dirty tricks—alongside more hopeful editorials—reflecting the ever-present fear of the other. If these tensions are handled poorly, as in 2004, the “no” campaign will gather momentum. History counts here: it is something that must be overcome for any success to occur. The fudge in the joint agreement will come under serious pressure over the next few months as the two sides negotiate over it and tear it apart. The fear is that the years of division and conflict make it impossible for both sides to recognise a shared past or
8. The crisis in Syria
Syria is undoubtedly the country in which the Arab spring has the most profound geostrategic implications. The fall of Bashar al-Assad's government would change the situation in the Middle East entirely. Indeed, even the impasse that appears to prevail today has accentuated the polarisation of regional actors, between those who are for Assad and those who are against him, with the risk that any internal escalation in Syria will have wider repercussions. As for the Western powers, they are out of the game for the moment. The Libyan adventure makes intervention almost impossible. NATO doesn't have the resources to act and a US intervention on the scale that would be required is highly unlikely, even though the stakes in Syria are infinitely higher than they are in Libya. The novelty - and the great danger - is that the Syrian crisis brings into conflict two states that, until now, have coexisted peacefully despite belonging to opposing camps, namely Iran and Turkey. Both are directly implicated in what is happening in the country. Turkey is involved not as a member of NATO, but in its new role as a major regional power. For the Iranians, the fall of the regime in Damascus would be a catastrophe. Syria is Iran's only Arab ally and a vital link with Hezbollah in Lebanon, which is the spearhead of Iranian influence in the Middle East. Without Syria, Iran's foreign policy in the region - in which it positions itself as the last remaining bulwark against Israel and as the defender of an Arab nationalism betrayed by the regimes (and, although this is not said explicitly, abandoned by the new democratic movements) - would fall apart. Were Assad's clan to be ousted, the replacement would be Sunni and anti-Iranian, whatever its other political affinities. For this reason, Iran has sent money, military advisers and arms to Syria. And it would not hesitate to go further in order to save Hezbollah. The Turkish position is harder to read. It has moved from compliance to a hostility that stops just short of intervention. Turkey is amassing troops on the Syrian border, trying to organise Syria's internal opposition and calling overtly for the overthrow of the regime. This stance is unprecedented in the history of the modern Turkish state - until now, it has used military force in the Middle East only when dealing with the intermittent threat of the Kurdistan Workers' Party (PKK). It has never called for regime change - not even when the Islamic Republic of Iran openly contested the legitimacy of Kemalism. Not only has it never sent troops into the Middle East (one recalls Turkey's refusal to enter Iraq in 2003, despite a request from the US to do so), but it has not allowed its territory to be used as a base for any Middle Eastern opposition movement. And with good reason: as long as it was preoccupied with entry into the European Union, Turkey remained very prudent where the Middle East was concerned. Today, however, its proactive foreign policy compels it to take sides in local conflicts even if it would prefer to play the role of mediator. A dangerous and unexpected scenario looms: a confrontation, through intermediaries, between Iran and Turkey, while the usual arbiters, Israel and the US, keep their powder dry. The Syrian regime represents all that Israel detests, but it has always respected " red lines ". Syria is an adversary but one that can be managed. Unless Iranian troops set foot on Syrian soil , it is highly improbable that the Israelis will act. While this mobilisation takes place on Syria's borders, it is hard to identify the political forces at work in the country. Beyond the knowledge that the regime is primarily the mouthpiece of an Alawite minority, even though it has some support among Sunnis, we can be sure of very little. How united are the Alawites? What role is the Muslim Brotherhood (MB) playing in opposition? Even the local population seems to be largely in the dark: everyone fears a civil war, but at the same time denies the reality of sectarian tensions today. It is clear that Assad is playing on this fear of sectarian conflict; he reminds the Sunnis of the Hama massacre in 1982, and the Alawites that power can only be maintained through force. To the Christians, the regime appears to be the best protection against the kind of anti- Christian violence that erupted in Iraq after the invasion in 2003. What of the Kurds (who number well over a million)? The borders with Turkey and Iraq are open and arms are passing back and forth. The PKK has a presence in Syria and the Kurds are taking against a regime that has marginalised them. In this, they join with the Sunni majority against the government. The MB no doubt failed to construct a clandestine activist network after the repression of 1982-83. Yet the policies that were designed to counter the MB have had perverse effects - they have given carte blanche to Sunni religious conservatives who, although they appear to be apolitical, regard the Alawites as heretics and believe that Shia Iran has no business in Syria. Where are they going to stand? In my view, against the regime. The Syrian internal situation will continue to escalate, causing a further rise in tensions between Turkey and Iran. And all this at a time when no one really knows how the political forces inside Syria are distributed, and when there is no precedent for the confrontation between Ankara and Tehran – and thus no guide for preventing the situation from spiralling out of control. [“The crisis in Syria is leading the Middle East into uncharted territory”, Olivier Roy, New Statesman , 24 August, 2011]
- What are “geostrategic implications” (highlighted) of the situation in Syria?
- Summarise the reasons why a “the fall of the regime in Damascus” (highlighted) would be a catastrophe?
- Explain “whatever its other political affinities” (highlighted).
- What does “overtly” (highlighted) mean? What is its opposite?
- What is Kemalism (highlighted)?
- What does the current situation suggest about Turkey’s desire to join the EU?
- Does para. 4 suggest that Turkey faces a dilemma? If so, which?
- How do you think Israel would react if “Iranian troops set foot on Syrian soil” (highlighted)?
- “Regime” (highlighted) – which regime?
- How does regarding the Alawites as heretics and believing that Shia Iran has no business in Syria show that the Sunni religious conservatives are not apolitical?
