“If the Americans and their regional allies want to pass through the Strait of Hormuz and threaten us, we will not allow any entry,” said deputy commander of Iran’s Revolutionary Guards, Hossein Salami, last Wednesday. Iran has a long history of making threats against this critical waterway, through which some 17 million barrels of oil exports pass daily, though it has not carried them out. But multiple regional security threats highlight threats to energy transit from and through the Middle East and North Africa (MENA)—and demand new thinking about solutions.

Weak spots

Hormuz attracts attention because of its evident vulnerability. But recent years have seen severe disruptions to energy flows across the region: port blockades in Libya; pipeline sabotage in Egypt’s Sinai, Yemen, Baluchistan in Pakistan, and Turkey’s southeast; attacks on oil and gas installations across Syria and Iraq; piracy off Somalia. Energy security is threatened at all scales, from local community disturbances and strikes, up to major regional military confrontations.

Of course, it would be best to mitigate these energy security vulnerabilities by tackling the root causes of conflict across the region. But while disruption and violence persist, energy exporters and consumers alike should guard against complacency.

A glut of oil and gas supplies globally—with low prices, growing U.S. self-sufficiency, and the conclusion of the Iranian nuclear deal—may seem to have reduced the urgency: markets have hardly responded to recent flare-ups. But major economies – even the United States – still remain dependent, directly or indirectly, on energy supplies from the MENA region. Spare oil production capacity is at unusually low levels, leaving the balance vulnerable to even a moderate interruption.

Most concern has focused on oil exports, given their importance to the world economy. But the security of liquefied natural gas (LNG) shipments is an under-appreciated risk, particularly for countries such as Japan and South Korea which are heavily dependent on LNG. A disruption would also have severe consequences for countries in the Middle East and North Africa, depriving them not only of revenues but potentially of critical imports.

Doing better 

There are three broad groups of approaches to mitigating the risk of energy transit disruptions: infrastructure, institutions, and market. 

1. Infrastructure includes the construction of bypass pipelines avoiding key choke-points and strategic storage.
   
   Existing bypass pipelines include SUMED (which avoids the Suez Canal); the Habshan-Fujairah pipeline in the UAE (bypassing Hormuz); and the Saudi Petroline, which runs to the Red Sea, hence offering an alternative to the Gulf and Hormuz. Proposed projects include a link from other Gulf Cooperation Council (GCC) countries to Oman’s planned oil terminal at Duqm on the Indian Ocean; new or rehabilitated pipelines from Iraq across Jordan and Turkey; an expansion of Petroline; and a new terminal in southern Iran at Jask.
   
   Strategic storage can be held by oil exporters, by importers, or a combination (in which exporters hold oil close to their customers’ territory, as with arrangements between Saudi Arabia and Japan, and between Abu Dhabi and Japan and India).


2. Institutional approaches include mechanisms to deal with disruptions, such as cooperative sharing arrangements.
   
   More analysis has focused on infrastructure than on institutional and market mitigation. Yet these approaches have to work together. Physical infrastructure is not enough: it has to be embedded in a suitable framework of regulation, legislation, and diplomacy. Cross-border or multilateral pipelines require agreements on international cooperation; strategic storage is most effective when rules for its use are clear, and when holders of storage agree not to hoard scarce supplies. 
   
   The effective combination of infrastructure and institutions has a strategic benefit even if it is never used. By making oil exporters and consumers less vulnerable to threats, it makes it less likely that such threats will be carried out.
   
   Alliances can be useful for mutual security and coordination. However, they raise the difficult question of whom they are directed against. Mutually-hostile alliances would be a threat to regional energy security rather than a guarantor. Organizations such as the International Energy Agency (IEA), the International Energy Forum (IEF), Organization of Petroleum Exporting Countries (OPEC), Gulf Cooperation Council, and the Association of Southeast Asian Nations (ASEAN) could all have roles, but none is ideally placed. Rather than creating another organization, reaching an understanding between existing bodies may be more effective.


3. In general, markets cope well with the task of allocating scarce supplies. Better and timelier data, such as that gathered by the IEF, can greatly improve the functioning of markets. Governments do have a role in protecting the most vulnerable consumers and ensuring sufficient energy for critical services, but price controls, rationing, and export bans have usually been counterproductive, and many of the worst consequences of so-called energy crises have come from well-meaning government interference with the normal market process of adjustment.
   
   However, it is generally difficult or impossible for a single company or country to capture all the benefits of building strategic infrastructure—which, as with a bypass pipeline, may only be required for a few months over a period of decades. International financing, perhaps backed by a major energy importer—mostly likely China—can help support such projects, particularly at a time of fiscal austerity in the Middle East.

Energy exporters within the MENA region may often find their interests divergent. But the field of energy security is one area for more fruitful cooperation—at least between groups of states, and some external players, particularly their increasingly important Asian customers. If regional tensions and conflicts cannot be easily solved, such action at least alleviates one of the serious risks of the region’s turmoil.

For more on this topic, read Robin Mills’ new analysis paper “Risky routes: Energy transit in the Middle East.”

On Tuesday, May 24, Nigerian Central Bank Governor Godwin Emefiele announced that the country will adopt a more flexible foreign exchange rate system in the near future. This move signals a major policy shift by Emefiele and President Muhammadu Buhari, who had until this point opposed calls to let the naira weaken. Many international oil-related currencies have depreciated against the dollar as oil prices began their decline in 2014. Nigeria, however, has held the naira at a peg of 197-199 per U.S. dollar since March 2015, depleting foreign reserves and deterring investors, who remain concerned about the repercussions of a potential naira devaluation. Following the announcement, Nigerian stocks jumped to a five-month high and bond prices rose in anticipation that a new flexible exchange rate regime would increase the supply of dollars and help attract foreign investors.

For now it remains unclear exactly what a more flexible system will entail for Nigeria, however, some experts suggest that the Central Bank may introduce a dual-rate system, which allows select importers in strategic industries to access foreign currency at the current fixed rate, while more generally foreign currency will be available at a weaker, market-related level. This new regime raises a number of questions, including how it will be governed and who will have access to foreign currency (and at what rate). On Wednesday, Nigeria’s parliament requested a briefing soon from Emefiele and Finance Minister Kemi Adeosun to provide additional clarity on the new system, although the date for such a meeting has not yet been set.

Earlier this month, Kenya announced plans to close the Dadaab refugee camp, located in northeast Kenya, amid security concerns. The move to close the camp has been widely criticized by international actors. United States State Department Press Relations Director Elizabeth Trudeau urged Kenya to “uphold its international obligations and not forcibly repatriate refugees.” The United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees stated that the closure of the refugee camp would have “devastating consequences.” Despite these concerns, this week, at the World Humanitarian Summit, Kenya stated that it will not go back on its decision and confirmed the closure of the refugee camps within a six-month period.

The camp houses 330,000 refugees, a majority of whom fled from conflict in their home country of Somalia. Kenya insists that the camp poses a threat to its national security, as it believes the camp is used to host and train extremists from Somalia’s Islamist group al-Shabab. Kenya also argued that the developed world, notably the United Kingdom, should host its fair share of African refugees. This is not the first time Kenya has threatened to close the refugee camp. After the Garissa University attacks last April, Kenya voiced its decision to close the refugee camps, although it did not follow through with the plan.

From May 23-27, Lusaka, Zambia hosted 5,000 delegates and participants for the 2016 Annual Meetings of the African Development Bank (AfDB), with the theme, “Energy and Climate Change.” Held in the wake of December’s COP21 climate agreement and in line with Sustainable Development Goals 7 (ensure access to affordable, reliable, sustainable and modern energy for all) and 13 (take urgent action to combat climate change and its impacts), the theme was timely and, as many speakers emphasized, urgent. Around 645 million people in Africa have no access to electricity, and only 16 percent are connected to an energy source. To that end, AfDB President Akinwumi Adesina outlined the bank’s ambitious aim: “Our goal is clear: universal access to energy for Africa within 10 years; Expand grid power by 160 gigawatts; Connect 130 million persons to grid power; Connect 75 million persons to off grid systems; And provide access to 150 million households to clean cooking energy."

As part of a push to transform Africa’s energy needs and uses, Rwandan President Paul Kagame joined Kenyan President Uhuru Kenyatta on a panel to support the AfDB’s “New Deal on Energy” that aims to deliver electricity to all Africans by 2025. Kenyatta specifically touted the potential of geothermal energy sources. Now, 40 percent of Kenya's power needs come from geothermal energy sources, he said, but there is still room for improvement—private businesses, which make up 30 percent of Kenya’s on-grid energy needs, have not made the switch yet.

As part of the meetings, the AfDB, the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development (OECD), and United Nations Development Program (UNDP) also launched their annual African Economic Outlook, with the theme “Sustainable Cities and Structural Transformation.” In general, the report’s authors predict that the continent will maintain an average growth of 3.7 percent in 2016 before increasing to 4.5 percent in 2017, assuming commodity prices recover and the global economy improves.  However, the focus was on this year’s theme: urbanization. The authors provide an overview of urbanization trends and highlight that successful urban planning can discourage pollution and waste, slow climate change, support better social safety nets, enhance service delivery, and attract investment, among other benefits.

For more on urbanization in sub-Saharan Africa, see Chapter 4 of Foresight Africa 2016: Capitalizing on Urbanization: The Importance of Planning, Infrastructure, and Finance for Africa’s Growing Cities.

Saudi deputy crown prince and defense minister Mohammad bin Salman is just wrapping up a heavily hyped visit to Washington, aimed at reinforcing the kingdom’s partnership with the United States. Recent years have frayed what is traditionally the central strategic relationship for Riyadh, principally over the Obama administration’s nuclear diplomacy with Iran.

Since the conclusion of the Iranian nuclear deal last July, the perennial antagonism between Riyadh and Tehran has reached a dangerous pitch, fueling the violence that rages in Syria, Iraq, and Yemen and the undercurrent of instability that saturates the region. And the fallout of their rivalry has left its mark well beyond the boundaries of the Gulf, exacerbating volatile energy markets and, by extension, the global economy. 

Within OPEC, Riyadh and Tehran are eyeing each other warily, and their continuing differences torpedoed a proposed ceiling on oil production at OPEC’s latest meeting. The outcome was not surprising; a similar effort to agree on a production freeze between the group and a handful of non-OPEC producers fizzled in April. In the meantime, any incentives for drastic measures to address soft oil prices have abated as oil prices creep back up to approximately $50 a barrel. 

Iran and Saudi Arabia have plenty of reasons to continue pumping for the foreseeable future. Since the lifting of nuclear-related sanctions in January, Iranian leaders have been determined to make up for lost time and lost revenues, already defying expectations by quickly raising production to levels that hadn’t been reached since November 2011 and aggressively cutting prices in hopes of winning back its pre-sanctions export market. 

The centrality of oil to the legitimacy and autonomy of both regimes means that these plans are little more than publicity stunts.

Meanwhile, Saudi Arabia appears prepared to continue pumping at record-high levels, part of a larger strategy aimed at maintaining market share and driving down non-OPEC production. The two states’ economic incentives are compounded by their fierce geostrategic and sectarian rivalry, which has intensified, as evidenced by the standoff over Iranian participation in the annual pilgrimage to Mecca.

But even as the two states duel over oil production and prices, both Saudi Arabia and Iran are conspicuously planning for a post-oil future. Leaders in both countries have decreed an end to the era of oil dependency, endorsing ambitious blueprints for restructuring their economies that—if implemented—would ultimately transform state, society, and the wider region. The centrality of oil to the legitimacy and autonomy of both regimes means that these plans are little more than publicity stunts. Still, just imagine for a moment what it would mean for Iran, Saudi Arabia, and the Middle East if these grandiose agendas were adopted.

Competing and complementary visions

Tehran’s plan actually dates back more than a decade, with the 2005 release of its “20 Year Perspective” (sometimes called “Vision 2025”). The plan laid out extravagant expectations: rapid growth and job creation, diversification away from oil, a knowledge-based economy. Intervening developments—sanctions that targeted Iran’s oil exports and helped expand non-oil trade—have only bolstered the rhetorical commitment of Iran’s supreme leader, Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, to a “resistance economy” in which oil exports constitute a minor part.

“One of our most serious losses is dependence on oil,” Khamenei bemoaned in a 2014 speech. “I am not saying that oil should not be used. Rather, I am saying that we should reduce our dependence on selling crude oil as much as we can.” 

Not to be outdone, Saudi Deputy Crown Prince Salman announced Saudi “Vision 2030,” to address what he described as “an addiction to oil.” The plan, which has met with equal doses of fanfare and skepticism since its announcement last month, aims to create a “thriving economy” and end Saudi dependence on oil revenues by 2020. Vision 2030 includes provisions to sell off a small stake in the kingdom’s state oil company, Saudi Aramco, and create the world’s largest sovereign wealth fund to manage the country’s income, as well as goals of creating 450,000 new private sector jobs, cutting public sector wages, and tripling the country’s non-oil exports all within the same abbreviated time frame.

Jeopardizing domestic stability

There is one hitch, however: these aspirations, though laudable, are preposterously unmoored from current political and economic exigencies. The institutions of governance and the structure of power in resource-rich states such as Saudi Arabia and Iran are organized around the state’s role as purveyors of vital social and economic goods. Riyadh and Tehran distribute cash handouts, provide jobs in already-bloated state bureaucracies, and levy few taxes. Diversifying away from reliance on oil would essentially require Riyadh and Tehran to radically curtail this distributive role, inviting historic social and political changes that could ultimately compromise regime ideology and weaken state legitimacy. 

[T]hese aspirations, though laudable, are preposterously unmoored from current political and economic exigencies.

In Saudi Arabia, the supply of these benefits is central to the monarchy’s legitimacy. To diversify away from oil, which currently accounts for over 70 percent of government revenues, Riyadh would have to drastically cut spending, far more than it already has. Not only would this further slash subsidies and hike fees, it would also effectively force Saudi workers—two-thirds of whom are employed by the state—to take up private sector jobs, 80 percent of which are currently staffed by expatriates. To accomplish this transition would require fundamental changes to the incentive structure for the Saudi labor force: a much broader willingness to accept low-skill, low-wage jobs, as well as the requisite improvements in education and productivity to support larger numbers of Saudi nationals moving into private sector positions.

For the Saudi economy to be truly competitive, Riyadh would have to initiate dramatic changes to a central component of the Saudi social compact—women’s rights and freedoms. The Vision 2030 document boasts that over 50 percent of Saudi university graduates are women and pledges to “continue to develop their talents, invest in their productive capabilities and enable them to strengthen their future and contribute to the development of our society and economy.” 

But the domestic Saudi labor force is overwhelmingly male, and even the plan’s modest aspirations to raise female participation in the workforce from 22 to 30 percent are likely to run into logistical and social obstacles. Shortly after announcing Vision 2030, Deputy Crown Prince Salman said Saudi Arabia is not yet ready to let women drive. A diversified economy will not emerge in the kind of constricted social environment mandated by the Saudi interpretation of sharia (Islamic law). 

Iran’s Islamic Republic doesn’t have the same degree of gender segregation, but Iran’s official interpretation of Islam has still constrained female participation in the workforce. Iran employs an equally low percentage of women—according to a 2014 U.N. report around 16 percent—and women’s unemployment is more than double that of men (nearly 20 percent).

A Saudi man walks past the logo of Vision 2030 after a news conference in Jeddah, Saudi Arabia June 7, 2016. Photo credit: Reuters/Faisal Al Nasser.

The bigger challenge for Iran will be truly opening up its economy to foreign direct investment. This remains hotly contested among the leadership, even in the aftermath of the nuclear agreement and the lifting of related sanctions. While there is some consensus around the need for foreign capital and technology, hardliners including Khamenei are determined to insulate Iran from any accompanying cultural influence and dependency. As the supreme leader recently inveighed, the global economy is “a plan and system that has been devised mainly by Zionist capitalists and some non-Zionists with the purpose of usurping the economic resources of the whole world...If a country merges its economy with the global economy, this is not a source of pride, rather it is a loss and a defeat!”

This deeply-rooted paranoia has provided a convenient platform for the Islamic Republic to galvanize citizens’ loyalty to the state and hostility to outside interference. And it also inhibits the liberalization that makes foreign investment possible: measures to enhance transparency and security, develop more attractive legal and fiscal frameworks, shrink the role of the state, and undertake an array of other structural reforms. Without these measures, Tehran will struggle to capitalize on its extraordinary reengagement with the world. 

While Saudi Arabia has maintained a more consistent and mutually beneficial pattern of foreign investment, its leadership too will have to revamp its approach if it is to broaden its economic base. For Riyadh, the challenge is less one of attracting foreign capital than of developing a sustainable influx of technology and expertise to develop sectors other than energy. The kingdom will also have to overcome serious regulatory hurdles and a proclivity for mammoth (and often white elephant) projects.

Compromising regional clout

Riyadh and Tehran will need to balance their economic aspirations and their approach to the region, too. Historically, their role in global energy markets has largely shielded both states from the fallout of regional instability. The world’s need for reliable oil at reasonable prices has inculcated the commitment of outside powers to secure transportation of resources and considerable autonomy for Riyadh and Tehran from the implications of their own policies. 

As a result, Saudi Arabia and Iran can fund nefarious activity across the region, violate the civil and human rights of their citizens and other residents, and carry out belligerent foreign policies without severe repercussions for their oil revenues. Only in the past five years has Tehran seen the limits of the world’s reluctance to jeopardize its investment with a major oil exporter; and the recent reversal of the U.N. condemnation regarding the Saudi-led coalition in Yemen demonstrates that Riyadh remains insulated.

Saudi Arabia and Iran can fund nefarious activity across the region, violate the civil and human rights of their citizens and other residents, and carry out belligerent foreign policies without severe repercussions for their oil revenues.

Regional developments make the prospect of economic diversification even less likely, as sensitivity to such developments will only increase if either country successfully develops its non-oil sectors. At the same time, regional stability is a basic prerequisite for economic diversification. Robust growth and good governance throughout the Middle East would provide the optimal context for the economic transformation of Iran and Saudi Arabia, since the marketplace for their non-oil exports is concentrated in the immediate neighborhood. But such transformation would require both countries to put economic priorities that serve their general populations above the ideological and religious agendas—supported by oil rents—that propel their regional and international influence and that provide a large portion of their autonomy in foreign policymaking. 

Technocrats in both countries understand this intuitively. At a 2015 conference on Iran’s economy, President Hassan Rouhani wondered “How long can the economy pay subsidies to politics?” He added that the country’s economy “pays subsidies both to foreign policy and domestic policy. Let us try the other way round for a decade and pay subsidies from the domestic and foreign policy to the economy to see [what] the lives and incomes of people and the employment of the youth will be like.” The problem, of course, is political will: neither country is prepared to elevate the interests of its people over the demands of ideology.

Imagining an unlikely future

Can either Iran or Saudi Arabia really kick the oil habit? It seems exceptionally unlikely. Even as Khamenei extols the need for inward-focused development, Tehran is racing to expand crude output level to four million barrels per day by March 2017. 

Oil enabled the creation of the modern Middle Eastern state and fueled the rise of both countries to regional predominance. Oil is a vector for their regional rivalry, and it provides prestige and funds to be used in other arenas of competition. A genuine diversification of the two largest economies in the Middle East and North Africa would jeopardize their revenue streams and domestic legitimacy, as well as their efforts to assert their primacy across the Islamic world.

[N]either country is prepared to elevate the interests of its people over the demands of ideology.

“All success stories start with a vision,” Deputy Crown Prince Salman is quoted as saying on the Vision 2030 website. But vision is insufficient to bridge the gap between aspiration and reality; a serious agenda to implement either the Saudi or the Iranian vision would require painful compromises to regime ideology and a fundamental overhaul of the institutions and the structure of power in both countries. 

Imagine, though, for a moment, that these far-fetched ambitions were quite serious, and that both the Saudi and Iranian leadership were determined to do what was necessary to truly wean their economies off oil dependence. Consider what it might mean for the region if these grandiose ambitions were not simply the illusions of overpriced consultants and embattled technocrats—if a leadership emerged in one or both of the Middle East’s most powerful actors prepared to invest political capital in a genuine transformation of priorities and policies. What might be possible if Tehran and Riyadh sought to compete for economic opportunities instead of fueling violence and sectarianism around the region? If instead of a vicious sectarian and geopolitical rivalry, these two old adversaries engaged in a race to the top?

What will it take to move these visions from wishful thinking to reality? More than rhetoric, to be sure. But even the articulation of improbable objectives will have its impact. As documented in a recent book, Iran’s post-revolutionary experience demonstrates that the regime’s reliance on promises of economic gains has generated public expectations for effective and accountable governance. Now Iranians and Saudis have been told by their leaders—who happen to be officially infallible—that the time has come to transcend oil. What might happen if they believe it?

Renewable energy is an important source to tackle against climate change, as the latest IPCC report has pointed out. However, due to the existence of multiple market failures such as negative externalities of fossil fuels and knowledge spillovers of new technology, government subsidies are still needed to develop renewable energy, such as solar photovoltaic (PV) cells. In the United States, there have been various forms of subsidies for PV, varying from the federal level to the state level, and from the city level to the utility level. California, as the pioneer of solar PV development, has put forward the biggest state-level subsidy program for PV, the California Solar Initiative (CSI). The CSI has planned to spend around $2.2 Billion in 2007–2016 to install roughly 2 GW PV capacity, with the average subsidy level as high as $1.1/W. How to evaluate the cost-effectiveness and incentive pass-through of this program are the two major research questions we are pursing.

Our cost-effectiveness analysis is based on a constrained optimization model that we developed, where the objective is to install as much PV capacity as possible under a fixed budget constraint. Both the analytical and computational results suggest that due to a strong peer effect and the learning-by-doing effect, one can shift subsides from later periods to early periods so that the final PV installed capacity can be increased by 8.1% (or 32 MW). However, if the decision-maker has other policy objectives or constraints in mind, such as maintaining the policy certainty, then, the optimally calculated subsidy policy would look like the CSI.

As to the incentive pass-through question, we took a structural approach and in addition used the method of regression discontinuity (RD). While in general, the incentive pass-through rate depends on the curvature of the demand and supply curve and the level of market competition, our two estimations indicate that the incentive pass-through for the CSI program is almost complete. In other words, almost all of the incentive has been enjoyed by the customer, and the PV installers did not retain much. Based on the RD design, we observe that PV installers tend to consider the CSI incentive as exogenous to their pricing decision.

The relative good performance of the CSI in terms of both the cost-effectiveness and the incentive pass-through aspect are tightly related to its policy design and program management. International speaking, the biggest challenge for the design of any PV subsidy program is the quick running out of the budget, and in the end, it looks like customers are rushing for the subsidy. Such rushing behavior is a clear indication of higher-than-needed incentive levels. Due to the policy rigidity and rapid PV technological change, the PV subsidy policy may lag behind the PV cost decline; and as a result, rational customers could rush for any unnecessarily high subsidy.

Due to the high uncertainty and unpredictability of future PV costs, the CSI put forward a new design that links the incentive level change and the installed capacity goal fulfillment. Specifically, the CSI has designed nine steps to achieve its policy goal; at each step, there is a PV capacity goal that corresponds to an incentive level. Once the capacity goal is finished, the incentive level will decrease to the next lower level. Furthermore, to maintain the policy certainty, the CSI regulated that every step-wise change in the incentive level should not be higher than $0.45/W, nor smaller than $0.05/W, together with other three constraints.

A good subsidy policy not only requires flexible policy design to respond to fast-changing environment, but also demands an efficient program management system, digitalized if possible. For the CSI, the authority has contracted out a third-party to maintain a good database system for the program. Specifically, the database has documented in detail every PV system that customers requested. Key data fields include 22 important dates during the PV installation process, customers’ zip code, city, utility and county information, and various characteristics of the PV system such as price, system size, incentive, PV module and installer. All information is publicly available, which to some extent fills in the information gap held by customers and fosters the market competition among PV installers. For customers to receive the incentive, their PV systems have to pass the inspection of the local government, and also to be interconnected to the grid. On the supply side, the CSI has also certified and created a list of PV installers that every customer can choose from.

Although the CSI has ended in 2014 due to fast PV cost reduction starting from 2009, its experience has been transferred to other areas in the United States and in Europe. It is highly possible that other similar new technologies and products (e.g. the electric car and the battery) can adopt the CSI policy design, too. In summary, a good and successful policy may need to be simply, clear, credible, foreseeable, flexible, end-able, and incentive-compatible. The PV subsidy policy in China still has a long way to go when compared to the CSI.

The increasing diversification of news media—from online versions of major newspapers to political bloggers, to 24-hour cable news to social media—plus the profession’s changing economics have caused the balance of power between political reporters and presidential candidates to change. Stephen Hess, senior fellow emeritus, says our very good, well-trained reporters are “almost dangerous” to presidential candidates who are trying to stay on message. Thus, says Hess, the way the press covers campaigns has changed as well, and not for the better.

Video

• Stephen Hess: The Changing Balance of Power in Presidential Campaign Reporting

The terrible attack in Nice on July 14—Bastille Day—saddened us all. For a country that has done so much historically to promote democracy and human rights at home and abroad, France is paying a terrible and unfair price, even more than most countries. My colleagues Will McCants and Chris Meserole have carefully documented the toll that France, and certain other Francophone countries like Belgium, have suffered in recent years from global terrorism. It is heart wrenching.

From what we know so far, the attack was carried out by a deeply distraught, potentially deranged, and in any case extremely brutal local man from Nice of Tunisian descent and French nationality. Marital problems, the recent loss of his job, and a general sense of personal unhappiness seem to have contributed to the state of mind that led him to commit this heinous atrocity. Perhaps we will soon learn that ISIS, directly or indirectly, inspired the attack in one way or another as well. My colleague Dan Byman has already tapped into his deep expertise about terrorism to remind us that ISIS had in fact encouraged ramming attacks with vehicles before, even if the actual manifestation of such tactics in this case was mostly new. 

This attack will again raise the question: Why France? On this point, I do have a somewhat different take than some of my colleagues. The argument that France has partly brought these tragedies upon itself—perhaps because of its policies of secularism and in particular its limitations on when and where women can wear the veil in France—strikes me as unpersuasive. Its logical policy implications are also potentially disturbing, because if interpreted wrongly, it could lead to a debate on whether France should modify such policies so as to make itself less vulnerable to terrorism. That outcome, even if unintended, could dance very close to the line of encouraging appeasement of heinous acts of violence with policy changes that run counter to much of what French culture and society would otherwise favor. So I feel the need to push back.

Here are some of the arguments, as I see them, against blaming French culture or policy for this recent string of horrible attacks including the Charlie Hebdo massacre, the November 2015 mass shootings in Paris, and the Nice tragedy (as well as recent attacks in Belgium):

• Starting with the simplest point, we still do not know much about the perpetrator of the Nice killings. From what we do surmise so far, personal problems appear to be largely at the root of the violence—different from, but not entirely unlike, the case with the Orlando shooter, Omar Mateen.
• We need to be careful about drawing implications from a small number of major attacks. Since 2000, there have also been major attacks in the Western world by extremist jihadis or takfiris in New York, Washington, Spain, London, San Bernardino, Orlando, and Russia. None of these are Francophone. Even Belgium is itself a mixed country, linguistically and culturally.
• Partly for reasons of geography, as well as history, France does face a larger problem than some other European countries of individuals leaving its country to go to Syria or Iraq to fight for ISIS, and then returning. But it is hardly unique in the scale of this problem.
• Continental Europe has a specific additional problem that is not as widely shared in the United Kingdom or the United States: Its criminal networks largely overlap with its extremist and/or terrorist networks. This point may be irrelevant to the Nice attack, but more widely, extremists in France or Belgium can make use of illicit channels for moving people, money, and weapons that are less available to would-be jihadis in places like the U.K. (where the criminal networks have more of a Caribbean and sub-Saharan African character, meaning they overlap less with extremist networks).
• Of course, the greatest numbers of terrorist attacks by Muslim extremists occur in the broader Muslim world, with Muslims as the primary victims—from Iraq and Syria to Libya and Yemen and Somalia to South Asia. French domestic policies have no bearing on these, of course.

There is no doubt that good work by counterterrorism and intelligence forces is crucial to preventing future attacks. France has done well in this regard—though it surely can do better, and it is surely trying to get better. There is also no doubt that promoting social cohesion in a broad sense is a worthy goal. But I would hesitate, personally, to attribute any apparent trend line in major attacks in the West to a particular policy of a country like France—especially when the latter is in fact doing much to seek to build bridges, as a matter of national policy, with Muslims at home and abroad. 

There is much more to do in promoting social cohesion, to be sure, even here in America (though our own problems probably center more on race than on religion at the moment). But the Nice attacker almost assuredly didn’t attack because his estranged wife couldn’t wear a veil in the manner and/or places she wanted. At a moment like this in particular, I disagree with insinuations to the contrary.

Last night, retired lieutenant general Michael Flynn addressed the Republican convention as a headline speaker on the subject of national security. One of Donald Trump’s closest advisors—so much so that he was considered for vice president—Flynn repeated many of the themes found in his new book, The Field of Fight, How We Can Win the Global War Against Radical Islam and Its Allies, which he coauthored with Michael Ledeen. (The book is published by St. Martin’s, which also published mine.)

Written in Flynn’s voice, the book advances two related arguments: First, the U.S. government does not know enough about its enemies because it does not collect enough intelligence, and it refuses to take ideological motivations seriously. Second, our enemies are collaborating in an “international alliance of evil countries and movements that is working to destroy” the United States despite their ideological differences.

Readers will immediately notice a tension between the two ideas. “On the surface,” Flynn admits, “it seems incoherent.” He asks: 

“How can a Communist regime like North Korea embrace a radical Islamist regime like Iran? What about Russia’s Vladimir Putin? He is certainly no jihadi; indeed, Russia has a good deal to fear from radical Islamist groups.” 

Flynn spends much of the book resolving the contradiction and proving that America’s enemies—North Korea, China, Russia, Iran, Syria, Cuba, Bolivia, Venezuela, Nicaragua, al-Qaida, Hezbollah, and ISIS—are in fact working in concert.

No one who has read classified intelligence or studied international relations will balk at the idea that unlikely friendships are formed against a common enemy. As Flynn observes, the revolutionary Shiite government in Tehran cooperates with nationalist Russia and communist North Korea; it has also turned a blind eye (at the very least) to al-Qaida’s Sunni operatives in Iran and used them bargaining chips when negotiating with Osama bin Laden and the United States. 

Flynn argues that this is more than “an alliance of convenience.” Rather, the United States’ enemies share “a contempt for democracy and an agreement—by all the members of the enemy alliance—that dictatorship is a superior way to run a country, an empire, or a caliphate.” Their shared goals of maximizing dictatorship and minimizing U.S. interference override their substantial ideological differences. Consequently, the U.S. government must work to destroy the alliance by “removing the sickening chokehold of tyranny, dictatorships, and Radical Islamist regimes.” Its failure to do so over the past decades gravely imperils the United States, he contends.

The book thus offers two very different views of how to exercise American power abroad: spread democracies or stand with friendly strongmen...[P]erhaps it mirrors the confusion in the Republican establishment over the direction of conservative foreign policy.

Some of Flynn’s evidence for the alliance diverts into the conspiratorial—I’ve seen nothing credible to back up his assertion that the Iranians were behind the 1979 takeover of the Grand Mosque in Mecca by Sunni apocalypticists. And there’s an important difference between the territorially-bounded ambitions of Iran, Russia, and North Korea, on the one hand, and ISIS’s desire to conquer the world on the other; the former makes alliances of convenience easier than the latter. Still, Flynn would basically be a neocon if he stuck with his core argument: tyrannies of all stripes are arrayed against the United States so the United States should destroy them.

But some tyrannies are less worthy of destruction than others. In fact, Flynn argues there’s a category of despot that should be excluded from his principle, the “friendly tyrants” like President Abdel-Fatah el-Sissi in Egypt and former president Zine Ben Ali in Tunisia. Saddam Hussein should not have been toppled, Flynn argues, and even Russia could become an “ideal partner for fighting Radical Islam” if only it would come to its senses about the threat of “Radical Islam.” Taken alone, these arguments would make Flynn realist, not a neocon. 

The book thus offers two very different views of how to exercise American power abroad: spread democracies or stand with friendly strongmen. Neither is a sure path to security. Spreading democracy through the wrong means can bring to power regimes that are even more hostile and authoritarian; standing with strongmen risks the same. Absent some principle higher than just democracy or security for their own sakes, the reader is unable to decide between Flynn’s contradictory perspectives and judge when their benefits are worth the risks. 

It’s strange to find a book about strategy so at odds with itself. Perhaps the dissonance is due to the co-authors’ divergent views (Ledeen is a neocon and Flynn is comfortable dining with Putin.) Or perhaps it mirrors the confusion in the Republican establishment over the direction of conservative foreign policy. Whatever the case, the muddled argument offered in The Field of Fight demonstrates how hard it is to overcome ideological differences to ally against a common foe, regardless of whether that alliance is one of convenience or conviction. 

Editors’ Note: Donald Trump has exposed the tension between democracy and liberal values—similar to the Arab Spring, writes Shadi Hamid. This piece originally appeared on The Atlantic.

When I was living in the Middle East, politics always felt existential, in a way that I suppose I could never fully understand. After all, I could always leave (as my relatives in Egypt were fond of reminding me). But it was easy enough to sense it. Here, in the era of Arab revolt, elections really had consequences. Politics wasn’t about policy; it was about a battle over the very meaning and purpose of the nation-state. These were the things that mattered more than anything else, in part because they were impossible to measure or quantify.

The primary divide in most Arab countries was between Islamists and non-Islamists. The latter, especially those of a more secular bent, feared that Islamist rule, however “democratic” it might be, would alter the nature of their countries beyond recognition. It wouldn’t just affect their governments or their laws, but how they lived, what they wore, and how they raised their sons and daughters.

Perhaps more than at any other time, millions of Americans are getting a sense, however mild in comparison, of what it might feel like to lose your country—or at least think about losing your country—because of what people decide to do in the privacy of the voting booth. It still remains (somewhat) unlikely that Donald Trump, the now presumptive Republican nominee, can win a general election. Regardless of the final outcome, however, the billionaire’s rise offers up a powerful—and frightening—reminder that liberal democracy, even where it’s most entrenched, is a fragile thing.

* * *

When I hear my friends debating how, exactly, so many of their fellow citizens could support someone like Trump, it reminds me a bit of Egypt. In my forthcoming book, I relay a telling conversation I had four years ago, which has stayed with me since. A few days after the country’s first post-revolutionary elections concluded in January 2012, I visited my great aunt in her extravagant flat in the posh Cairo suburb of Heliopolis. She was in a state of shock, but worse than that was the confusion. It was one thing for the Muslim Brotherhood, long Egypt’s largest opposition group, to win close to 40 percent of the vote, but how could 28 percent of Egyptians vote for ultraconservative Salafi parties, which believed in the strict implementation of Islamic law?

Like most Egyptians, she personally knew Brotherhood members even if she didn’t quite like them, but she hadn’t had much experience with Salafis and seemed totally unaware that they had extended their reach deep into Egyptian society. She realized, perhaps for the first time, that the country she had thought was hers for the better part of 70 years would never quite be the same. It hadn’t really even been hers to begin with.

What if voters don’t want to be liberal and vote accordingly?

What my aunt feared was that Egypt would become an “illiberal democracy,” a term popularized by Fareed Zakaria in his 2003 book The Future of Freedom, but one that’s still difficult for Americans to fundamentally relate to. In the American experience, democracy and liberalism seemed to go hand in hand, to such an extent that democracy really just became shorthand for “liberal democracy.”

As Richard Youngs writes in his excellent study of non-Western democracy, liberalism and democracy have historically been “rival notions and not bedfellows.” Liberalism is about non-negotiable personal rights and freedoms. Democracy, while requiring some basic protection of rights to allow for meaningful competition, is more about popular sovereignty, popular will, and accountability and responsiveness to the voting public. Which, of course, raises the question: What if voters don’t want to be liberal and vote accordingly?

* * *

When the stakes are high, there is more to lose, and if there is more to lose, those on the losing end of a ballot box have powerful incentives to play “spoiler.” Fortunately, in the post-Civil War United States, the stakes have never reached what political scientist Barry Weingast calls the “threshold” at which citizens decide to defend themselves through extra-constitutional means, including by appealing for the military to take sides. This, in part, is why (good) constitutions are so important: They lower the stakes, reassuring citizens that even if their preferred party loses the election, it’s still just that—an election.

Donald Trump, or more specifically what he represents, calls some of these assumptions into question. Trump himself isn’t quite an Islamist, but he is a proponent of a kind of “illiberal democracy,” even if he himself may not be familiar with the term. Drawing on a wellspring of white nativism and machismo, candidate Trump has regularly made demeaning statements about entire groups of people, including African-Americans, Mexicans, and women. His commitment to the protections enshrined in U.S. constitution are questionable, at best, and if we assume the worst, downright frightening (the difficulty with Trump is that he’s not precise with words, so it’s sometimes hard to make sense of what he’s saying). He has expressed support for registering Muslims in a database, elaborating that they could “sign up at different places.” When a reporter asked how this was different from requiring Jews to register in Nazi Germany, Trump said “you tell me,” prompting The Atlantic’s David Graham to note that “it’s hard to remember a time when a supposedly mainstream candidate had no interest in differentiating ideas he’s endorsed from those of the Nazis.” Trump, for good measure, has also refused to disavow President Franklin D. Roosevelt’s internment of Japanese-Americans.

The U.S. Constitution includes robust civil-liberties protections, enshrined in the Bill of Rights. But these protections are not unlimited. Contrary to popular belief, majorities—if they’re large enough—can, in fact, do nearly anything they want, even in established democracies. It’s only really a question of how high the majoritarian bar is. In the United States, two-thirds of Congress and 75 percent of the states can amend or repeal articles of the Constitution. They could theoretically pass a constitutional amendment banning abortion. In countries like Egypt, Tunisia, and Turkey, where alcohol is currently legal and relatively easy to find, the issue of alcohol consumption is a touchstone for endless “what if” hypothesizing. Yet, Prohibition happened not in any of those countries but in America, with large majorities in the Senate and House of Representatives as well as 46 of 48 states backing the 18th Amendment (of course, banning alcohol in the U.S. wasn’t justified on primarily scriptural grounds, while in Muslim-majority countries, prohibition is seen as fulfilling an explicitly Quranic directive).

In other words, built-in constraints and constitutional “guarantees” aren’t enough on their own to preclude illiberal outcomes. What Americans really depend on, then, is a shared political culture and the ideas and ideals that undergird it. As James Fallows notes, “Liberal democracies like ours depend on rules but also on norms—on the assumption that you’ll go so far, but no further, to advance your political ends.” But all it apparently takes is one man with charisma and an unusually perceptive understanding of the human psyche to change that. There are norms against politicians suggesting that minorities should have special identification cards. There are norms against saying you want to kill the families of terrorists. There are norms against encouraging your supporters to use violence against their political opponents. It’s not entirely clear why you don’t do or say these things (because Trump clearly has), but you just don’t. The very fact that Trump has made such frightening comments on national television—without any corresponding “disqualification” or decline in popular support—has already undermined these longstanding norms.

The United States has had demagogues before, but they rarely make for viable presidential candidates. This is democracy’s blessing as well as its curse: that people you really don’t like—people who you think might threaten the Republic—can actually win. In the specific context of the Republican nomination, Trump opponents basically called for prioritizing good outcomes over democratic ones. They continued to search for possible paths to denying Trump the nomination, despite the fact that, barring acts of God, he was certain to win the popular vote and a plurality of delegates in the primaries.

Even if Trump reached the magic number of 1,237 delegates, which would normally settle the matter, there were those who still seemed intent on scouring the rulebooks, parliamentary procedure, and delegate details in the hope of averting disaster. Democratic norms, the thinking goes, are great in normal contexts, but sometimes the stakes are simply too high to let democratic outcomes stand. As the columnist Walter Shapiro wrote, “[W]ith the threat of the first takeover of a modern political party by an authoritarian who traffics in racism and exudes contempt for the First Amendment ... [t]here would be nothing anti-democratic about GOP leaders using every mechanism in their power to stop Trump.” Nate Silver pointed out that “technically [Republicans would] be able to deny Trump the nomination even if he had a delegate majority by changing the rules at the last minute.” They could still theoretically do something like this, even after Trump’s decisive victory in Indiana. The Republican Party is not a country, and the party can disregard the preferences of primary voters if it so chooses, but elite pacts and back-room negotiations would seem decidedly antiquated during an unusually populist moment in American politics.

[T]here will no doubt be a temptation to defy or otherwise undermine a democratically elected Trump.

This particular debate in some ways mirrors arguments over the tensions between democracy and liberalism, a debate that will only intensify if Trump gains ground on Hillary Clinton in the coming months. It is probably time to err on the side of imagination, since party elites and pundits failed to imagine the unthinkable once already. What if Trump actually wins the presidency? How would we as Americans deal with an outcome that at least some of us see as a potential danger to our Constitution as well as our livelihoods?

If Donald Trump wins, he would have, whether we liked it or not, a democratic mandate. Once in power, he might moderate his rhetoric and policies (yet another data point in the debate over the “inclusion-moderation hypothesis”), rendering at least some of this discussion moot. Yet it’s also possible that, facing a growing terrorist threat and a sputtering economy, more and more Americans might, like their newly elected president, dispense with the norms of reasonable conduct and support extreme measures. Still, a President Trump would be a legitimate president, having been freely and fairly elected by enough Americans. He would be, as much as it pains me to say it, our president. Still, there will no doubt be a temptation to defy or otherwise undermine a democratically elected Trump. For those of us who study the Middle East, the idea of not respecting democratic outcomes is business as usual, but I never thought it would be up for debate in the United States.

* * *

“Deep state” is a phrase that’s used to describe the constellation of autonomous and self-perpetuating institutions, namely the judiciary, military, and security services, which operate outside the glare of the public and are immune to the electorate’s whims. This deep state, acting as the guardian of national identity, puts limits on what elected politicians can hope to accomplish. The deep state was responsible for four coups in Turkey, the most recent of which deposed the country’s first-ever democratically elected Islamist prime minister in 1997.

It would be difficult for Americans to think about their own government—or “regime”—in such terms. The U.S. military is subject to civilian control, while Supreme Court justices, though unelected and appointed to life terms, are nominated by the president and confirmed by the Senate. It is possible, however, to imagine a president so reckless as to activate state institutions against him or her, in a way that makes the notion of an American deep state more meaningful and relevant.

Former CIA Director Michael Hayden ignited some speculative debate when he said that the military “would refuse to act” if ordered by a President Trump to take actions that were clearly illegal, such as killing the families of terrorists. Moreover, he said, military commanders are “required not to follow an unlawful order.” Even short of flagrant illegality, the military can still do what it’s done, at times, with nearly every sitting president. Peter Feaver, a leading expert on civil-military relations, notes that “the historical record is replete with cases of the military shirking—withholding information and options, slow-rolling, end-runs to Congress and the media, inflating cost estimates, etc.—to thwart civilian policies they deem to be unwise.” Considering, however, that Trump would likely be more “unwise” than most past presidents, such tensions could intensify well beyond what America’s political system is accustomed to.

"[C]oup”...is not a word that Americans should ever get used to hearing in everyday political discourse.

One can also easily imagine left-of-center (and right-of-center) civil servants in the Departments of State and Defense working against the president from within to mitigate his effectiveness and even his authority. This would be good, insofar as Americans wouldn’t want their president doing things that were crazy, illegal, or both. But it would still raise difficult questions about democratic legitimacy and how far an elected president can pursue his preferred policies, especially when it comes to issues that aren’t clear-cut. If the military refused to obey orders, however justified their refusal, then it could very well erode norms against military intervention in domestic politics. In response to Hayden’s comments, host Bill Maher joked that the former CIA director was floating “a coup.” This is not a word that Americans should ever get used to hearing in everyday political discourse. The norm against “coups” is a powerful one, which explains why American analysts (if not the U.S. government) are generally uncomfortable with military coups in foreign countries. No one teaches us that military coups are bad. Rather, it’s something we absorb in the process of being American. It goes without saying, so it’s rarely said.

Recently, a few friends (who work on Middle East issues) and I had an interesting although ultimately frightening conversation, as Trump extended his delegate lead over Ted Cruz. Sometimes it’s useful to game out worst-case scenarios, however unlikely they might seem. We tried imagining a dystopian future and came up with internment camps, (threats of) military coups, and pro-Trump militias. Soon enough, the last didn’t seem nearly so farfetched, with volunteers offering to provide security at Trump rallies (for Trump supporters).

* * *

It is hard to imagine such things because, despite a long, low-intensity war on terrorism, America hasn’t faced a large-scale terrorist attack on the homeland since September 11, 2001. Democratic systems produce self-perpetuating norms, because they are accountable to a voting public. It’s this very responsiveness, though, that can be a source of vulnerability, if enough citizens, in the grip of fear, decide to prioritize “security” over liberty. As the legal scholar Christopher Kutz writes in the suggestively titled article “How Norms Die,” democracy can be “at the same time both fertile and toxic: fertile as a source of humanitarian values and institutions, but toxic to the very institutions it cultivates.”

This is something we can measure. As Daniel Bush observed, after analyzing Pew survey data from 2002 to 2014: “During each campaign season, respondents reported having a higher negative impression of Muslim Americans than in non-election years.” This is a bit more mild than the link between elections and religious riots in India. As the historian of religions Michael Cook notes, “There is no doubt that Hindu nationalist politicians believe that communal riots can get out the Hindu vote for them. ... Under the right conditions the communal riot is a winning [electoral] strategy.”

Norm shifting of an even more dangerous kind than India’s can happen rather quickly in countries where democracy is not yet consolidated. For example, millions of Egyptians who demanded freedom and democracy in 2011 turned seemingly against it in less than two and half years, supporting not just a return to authoritarian rule but the August 14, 2013 massacre of more than 800 protesters—what Human Rights Watch calls the “worst mass killing in [Egypt’s] modern history.”

The kinds of shifts that occur in established democracies are less nefarious, but they can happen just the same. Torture is a good example. Kutz calls the spread of global norms against torture “one of the most impressive successes of the post-war period.” Yet, in the United States, these norms began to erode after the attacks of September 11th. Soon enough, torture—or what some were now euphemistically calling “enhanced interrogation”—came to enjoy broad support among the American public. The lesson again is clear. However strong they may first appear, norms, particularly those relating to national security, are more fragile than we might like to think. Once their sanctity is undermined by authority figures (whether presidents or presidential candidates), others can judge that what was once considered shameful is now not just socially tolerated but also necessary, good, and just. This is why “political correctness”—even if it seems irritating and is sometimes abused to restrict reasonable debate—still represents a public good: It makes us think twice about saying things that might contribute to the erosion of liberal and democratic norms.

[N]orms, particularly those relating to national security, are more fragile than we might like to think.

We have now reached a point where current or former presidential candidates from both parties have flirted with the idea of internment camps (former Democratic candidate Wesley Clark has called for “segregating” radicalized Muslims who are “disloyal to the United States”). In a series of incidents that have received less attention, a Tennessee State Representative called for using state institutions, in this case the National Guard, to “round up” Syrian refugees. Meanwhile, the mayor of Roanoke, Virginia, called for suspending assistance to refugees, but went further in an official statement on government letterhead. “I’m reminded,” he wrote, “that President Franklin D. Roosevelt felt compelled to sequester Japanese foreign nationals after the bombing of Pearl Harbor, and it appears that the threat of harm to America from ISIS now is just as real and serious as that from our enemies then.”

No less than Supreme Court justice Antonin Scalia believed that it could happen here. On this, he is on strong ground, since it has, of course, already happened. In 1944, the Supreme Court upheld Roosevelt’s internment of Japanese-Americans in Korematsu v. United States. While Scalia said that the decision was “wrong,” he also issued a warning in his blunt style: “You are kidding yourself if you think the same thing will not happen again.”

The norm against internment has been undermined, even though Americans do not face anything close to the threat presented by the Nazis and Japan during World War II. Which raises the question of what a plurality, or even a majority, of Americans might be willing to support if they had to confront a threat that was truly existential. We Americans are not, today, at war, at least not in the normal sense. I hope to God that we never will be again. But we might be. And this is where Scalia’s words that day were perhaps most chilling, in part because he was right. Evoking the Latin expression inter arma enim silent leges, he reminded the audience that “in times of war, the laws fall silent.” All we will have then are the things we still believe in—our norms. But, by then, they might not be enough.

U.S. and EU officials have called on Turkey to show restraint amid concerns that Friday's failed coup attempt will be the pretext for an authoritarian crackdown. Turkey’s ability to investigate the putsch will be compromised by the fact that President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan has repressed the media and weakened the judiciary, says Kemal Kirisci, of the Brookings Institution. The coup attempt will likely bolster Erdoğan’s efforts to consolidate power, and that will make any investigation into the true causes of the coup difficult, Kirisci says.

President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan has pinned responsibility on the cleric Fethullah Gülen, who lives in self-imposed exile in the United States. Is that credible?

It is possible [that the Gülen movement is responsible], but this needs to be thoroughly investigated. The [Turkish] government has long argued that Fethullah Gülen leads a parallel state from Pennsylvania, where he has been living since 1997. The journalist and academic Ali Bayramoğlu has said that the movement, going back to the 1980s and early 1990s, began to systematically place their students in the police and military academies. These students were closely monitored and accompanied.

Other commentators have argued that it's unbelievable how F-16 pilots, on whom the state has spent more than a million dollars each to educate, attacked the Turkish parliament, military headquarters, intelligence services, and communications centers. How can a well-trained, prestigious F-16 pilot do this unless they are deeply attached to a cause? The movement also [includes] high-ranking judges and officers, including many one-star generals, who have been arrested.

Erdoğan has renewed his calls on the United States to extradite Gülen. Is this more plausible after the attempted coup?

Turkey has for a long time been seeking Gülen’s extradition, but the United States has not been cooperative, saying there was not enough evidence to build a case. However, the [U.S.-Turkey] extradition treaty refers to an obligation to extradite anyone who attempts to assassinate the leaders of one or the other country. There clearly was an attempt to assassinate Erdoğan: the hotel where he had been staying was attacked, and there was an attempt to control the airport where he was supposed to land. A necessary condition of extradition is that a convincing connection between the coup and the sought-after person is established; that should be the focus of cooperation.

Many analysts expect that Erdoğan will use the attempt as a pretense to invest the presidency with full executive powers, as he’s long sought.

The difficult issue will be to assess Erdoğan’s accusations independent of his political ends. Many commentators say the allegations put forward by the government serve his political aspirations: Erdoğan has become, de facto, the executive president of Turkey, but he wants to introduce an element of legality to it, which will require either a constitutional amendment or a completely new constitution. Opinion polls just before the coup suggested that the public, even supporters of [the ruling Justice and Development Party (AKP)], did not look favorably on it. This kind of threat to the system gives him considerable leverage [to codify an executive presidency], and I suspect he will follow that path rather than what some commentators are calling for, bringing the polarized country to a consensus through dialogue.

How to sort that out from the pursuit of the truth will be a difficult exercise, and I’m not sure today’s Turkey is equipped to do it, given the way the media has been repressed and the judiciary has been brought under the influence, if not control, of the government. These measures raise serious doubts about Turkey’s ability to investigate this within the realm of the rule of law.

The Incirlik air base, from which a U.S.-led coalition carries out air strikes against the self-proclaimed Islamic State, just reopened after a temporary closure. Will the coup attempt have broader implications for the anti-ISIS campaign?

Cooperation on ISIS is important, but much more so is the future of democracy in Turkey. A Turkey that is democratic is a Turkey of the rule of law, and a secular Turkey is one in which sympathy for such extremist groups is much less. Such a Turkey shares common values with the West, which makes cooperation much easier.

It looks like a large number of officers—colonels as well as one-star generals—were involved, and so the Turkish military is going to experience a period of weakness. That’s where U.S. cooperation, on intelligence and counterterrorism, is critical. Such cooperation demands trust. That trust will partially, but importantly, be a function of [cooperation over] the Gülenist dossier.

The United States and Turkey are going to have to find a way to cooperate over the PYD (Kurdish Democratic Union Party). [Editor’s note: the United States backs the Syrian Kurdish party’s militant wing, the YPG, to combat the Islamic State; Turkey says the group has aided its compatriots in Turkey, the PKK, whose insurgency against the state resumed in July 2015]. The United States enjoys leverage over the PYD, and now it’s ever more important that it keeps the PYD in line so it does not become involved in the conflict in Turkey and strengthen the hand of the PKK while Turkey is vulnerable.

Turkey hosts roughly three million refugees and the country is party to an agreement with the EU to stem migration to Europe. What will EU-Turkey relations look like in the aftermath of the coup attempt?

If the perpetrators had gained control of government, it would have led to civil war, so the very fact that the coup attempt collapsed is saving Europe from waves of Turkish asylum seekers. The EU will need to expand its basis of cooperation with Turkey, because this coup attempt will adversely impact Turkey’s ability to deal with these refugees. There will likely be a purge from some of the bureaucracies and organizations that deal with them.

More broadly, both U.S.-Turkey and EU-Turkey ties have been strained lately. Will the Turkey’s alliance with the West come out on stronger footing after their condemnation of the coup attempt?

Helping with the investigation to establish the truth will be critical. The way in which, at the end of the day, [the EU and United States came out] with support for the elected government, just as Turkish opposition parties did, should entitle them to some influence, calling on Turkey to live up to the norms, standards, and values of democratic society.

The EU and United States together must reanchor Turkey solidly within the Western alliance. Erdoğan, as much as [the United States and EU member-states] may resent him or disagree with policies, must be made to feel that he's welcome back in the ranks, the way he was between 2003 and 2010, on the condition he reforms his policies.

Erdoğan and the people around him, especially [former Prime Minister Ahmet] Davutoglu, had delusions of grandeur. They dreamed they were going to lead the ummah, the Islamic world. This is all gone now: the emperor is naked. Erdoğan seems to recognize Turkey has boxed itself into a corner and wants to come out in the direction of the West. There is nowhere else to go. Turkey needs tourism, international trade, and foreign investment, and to protect its national security. On all these grounds it needs cooperation, and it’s not going to come from Iran, China, or Russia, even if that might be their preference. It can only come from the West.

Turkey may also recognize that the West is in trouble too, and if the West cannot come out of that trouble, Turkey will be in even deeper trouble. Brexit is going to have a negative impact on Turkey's export market and tourism. An EU in trouble is not going to be able to give visa liberalization to Turkish nationals, which symbolically will anchor Turkey in the West, and is also important economically. If the EU and United States move to the right and say no to free trade agreements [and migration], Turkey will not benefit. Both sides next each other even more than in the past.

Copyright © Council on Foreign Relations 2016, republished with permission

Event Information

The failed coup in Turkey on July 15 to 16, organized by factions within the Turkish military in an attempt to overthrow the government of President Erdoğan, represents both a victory and a new trial for Turkish democracy. Although the Turkish citizenry brought the country back from the brink of anarchy and civil war, many analysts see last week’s events as a consequence of the political instability and discord that has been mounting for years as Erdoğan has consolidated powers, marginalized the opposition, and redefined Turkey’s democracy. How will the president react in the aftermath of the coup? Will the democratic backsliding intensify, or can the thwarted coup offer new opportunity for reconciling the deeply-polarized nation?

The upheaval and political instability in Turkey also holds significant implications for Turkey’s foreign policy and the fate of a neighboring region already in turmoil from the war in Syria and insecurity in Iraq. The West desperately needs a stable, democratic, and predictable partner in its NATO-ally Turkey to address the many challenges besetting the region and to fight the Islamic State (or ISIS). How will recent events affect regional stability and Turkey’s cooperation with the West on security issues, including the resettlement of Syrian refugees? What does the failed coup mean for the coalition against ISIS engagement in Syria?

On July 20, the Foreign Policy program (FP) at Brookings hosted a panel discussion to consider these questions and other domestic and international consequences of the coup attempt in Turkey. Brookings Senior Fellow and Director of the Center on the United States and Europe Fiona Hill introduced and moderated a wide-ranging conversation featuring FP Senior Fellows Shadi Hamid, Kemal Kirişci, Michael O'Hanlon, and Ömer Taşpınar.

After the discussion, the speakers took questions from the audience.

Video

• Turkey coup attempt was a shock
• Institutional collapse of Turkey unprecedented
• Disaster averted in failed Turkey coup
• Incirlik Air Base not irreplaceable
• Turkey after the coup attempt: Implications for Turkish democracy, foreign policy, and the future of the Syrian War

Audio

• Turkey after the coup attempt: Implications for Turkish democracy, foreign policy, and the future of the Syrian War

Transcript

• Transcript (.pdf)

Event Materials

• 20160720_turkey_coup_transcript

There are now more than 335 Accountable Care Organizations (ACOs) participating in the Medicare Shared Savings Program (MSSP) in 47 states, DC, and Puerto Rico. Early results show that most Medicare ACOs are succeeding at meeting their quality benchmarks, but only about a quarter of MSSP participants have been able to reduce their spending enough below projected financial targets to qualify for shared savings. While these results are encouraging, especially given the financial and practice transformation necessary to succeed as an ACO, they also suggest that more work is needed from both CMS and the providers to ensure continued sustainability of the MSSP ACOs.

Given that the first three year cycle of MSSP ends in 2015 and more providers will likely be entering the MSSP in the coming years , the Centers for Medicare and Medicaid Services (CMS) has indicated that they intend to release a Notice of Proposed Rulemaking (NPRM) that will establish the rule for participation in the Medicare ACO program. In anticipation of these coming changes, the Engelberg Center for Health Care Reform released an issue brief that identifies the "Top Eight ACO Challenges" to encourage further discussion and considerations for ensuring the continued success of ACOs. These potential policy alternatives build on discussions with ACO Learning Network members and other related stakeholders implementing accountable care across the country and include the following issues.

These issues, and many others, will be a focus of the discussions at the upcoming Fifth National ACO Summit later this week.

Top Eight Medicare ACO Challenges

1. Make Technical Adjustments to Benchmarks and Payments
In order for ACOs to qualify for shared savings, they must be able to hold spending below a financial benchmark set using historical spending patterns and meet a certain threshold of person and population-level quality metrics. A number of issues should be considered that affect the ACO’s chances of being able to attain shared savings and have more predictability about their performance: benchmark calculation methodology, how to adjust for regional variation in performance, and risk adjustment.

2. Transition to More Person-Based Payments
The ultimate goal of an ACO is to improve quality at the patient and population level and control the growth of health care costs. In order to successfully achieve this mission, ACOs must over time make a transition to payments that involve the assumption of more risk by the provider organization with a reward for better health outcomes for groups of patients. ACOs must have a clear transition path for increasing accountability and assumption of more risk for patient health outcomes.

3. Increase Beneficiary Engagement
Patients can play a critical role in helping to achieve the goals of an ACO. Health outcomes are determined by whether patients follow prescribed therapies. Increasing beneficiary engagement holds the potential to make patients more activated members of the ACO who can contribute to its success. A number of issues should be considered to improve beneficiary engagement, including adjusting attribution methods, creating more incentives for patients to seek care within the ACO, and finding opportunities to activate patients as part of the care team.

4. Enhance and Improve Alignment of Performance Measures
A central tenet of Medicare ACOs is delivering high quality health care as determined by performance on 33 measures established by CMS. ACOs must meet performance benchmarks in order to be eligible for shared savings, ensuring that these organizations are delivering high value, rather than simply cheaper, care. A number of barriers exist to achieving better performance measurement, including administrative burdens, lack of measure alignment among payers, lack of rewards for quality improvement, and concerns about measure selection.

5. Enable Better and More Consistent Supporting Data
In order to succeed as an ACO, organizations must be able to effectively collect, interpret, and use clinical and claims data to transform care of their patients. ACOs need to adopt new health IT systems and other technologies in order to collect and use the growing amount of data. ACOs currently struggle with reconciling data between different sources, dealing with patients who opt out of data sharing, lack of timeliness for receiving data, difficulty of tracking patients through the health system, and delays in performance feedback.

6. Link to Additional Value-Based Payment Reforms
ACOs are just one of many payment reforms that health care organizations across the country are implementing to improve quality and reduce costs. Aligning the vision and components of these other initiatives with ACO reforms has the potential to reinforce the shared goals and fundamentally change the health system. However, there are barriers to achieving this alignment such as lacks of linkages to bundled payments and other new payment models, multi-payer ACOs with different payment systems, and inability for organizations to participate in multiple CMS payment innovations.

7. Develop Bonus Payments and Other Incentives to Participate
In order to effectively transform clinical practice, ACOs must create or procure significant financial and human capital, as well as transform their information technology and delivery infrastructure. A recent survey estimates the average start-up cost for creating an ACO to be $2 million, with some ACOs investing significantly more in their first few years. Many ACOs, especially smaller ones, struggle to find sufficient start-up capital, are uncertain if they can assume the level of risk required for an ACO, and need significant staff and clinical change to effectively transform care.

8. Support Clinical Transformation
Becoming and succeeding as an ACO is a vast undertaking that requires immediately beginning to transform practice, finance, and operations. However, many providers, particularly those that are less experienced at systemic practice transformation, need more support in undertaking clinical transformation.

Downloads

• Issue Brief: Improving the Medicare ACO Program

Contributors: Alice M. Rivlin and Christine Dang-Vu

Recent data suggest that Accountable Care Organizations (ACOs) are improving important aspects of care and some are achieving early cost savings, but there is a long way to go. Not all ACOs will be successful at meeting the quality and cost aims of accountable care. The private sector has to date allowed more flexibility in terms of varying risk arrangements—there are now over 250 accountable care arrangements with private payers in all parts of the country—with notable success in some cases, particularly in ACOs that have been able to move farther away from fee-for-service payments. Future growth of the Medicare ACO program will depend on providers having the incentives to become an ACO and the flexibility to assume different levels of risk, ranging from exclusively upside arrangements to partial or fully capitated payment models.

Given that the first three year cycle of Medicare ACOs ends in 2015 and more providers will be entering accountable care in the coming years, the Centers for Medicare and Medicaid Services (CMS) has indicated that they intend to release a Notice of Proposed Rulemaking (NPRM) affecting the Medicare ACO program.

In anticipation of these coming changes, the Engelberg Center for Health Care Reform has identified the "Top Eight ACO Challenges" that warrant further discussion and considerations for ensuring the continued success of ACOs across the country. To support that discussion, we also present some potential alternatives to current Medicare policies that address these concerns. These findings build on the experiences of the Engelberg Center’s ACO Learning Network members and other stakeholders implementing accountable care across the country.  In some cases, the alternatives might have short-term costs, but could also improve the predictability and feasibility of Medicare ACOs, potentially leading to bigger impacts on improving care and reducing costs over time.  In other cases, the alternatives could lead to more savings even in the short term. In every case, thoughtful discussion and debate about these issues will help lead to a more effective Medicare ACO program.

Top Eight ACO Challenges

1. Make technical adjustments to benchmarks and payments
2. Transition to more person-based payments
3. Increase beneficiary engagement
4. Enhance and improve alignment of performance measures
5. Enable better and more consistent supporting data
6. Link to additional value-based payment reforms
7. Develop bonus payments and other incentives to participate
8. Support clinical transformation

Downloads

• Issue Brief: Improving the Medicare ACO Program