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The new Eastern and Islamic orientations of the post-1930 era set the general mood underlying the more focused supra-Egyptian ideologies of the period. The first of these to emerge with clarity was Egyptian Islamic nationalism. Egyptian Islamic nationalism was an attempt to build a religiously based alternative to supplant the territorial nationalism which had gained ascendancy in Egypt in the 1920s. It is important to emphasize that its formulators were both Muslims and nationalists. By this we mean that they were the first Egyptian Muslims to undertake the task of developing a systematic nationalist doctrine whose reference point was firmly anchored in Islam.
The Islamic orthodox establishment of Egypt was not the primary force responsible for the formulation of Egyptian Islamic nationalism. This was in part because of the diversity of that establishment; Egypt's ‘ulama’ spanned a wide range of opinion and spoke in tones ranging from relatively liberal to quite conservative. Even in the 1930s, when Nur al-Islam provided the ‘ulama’ with their own outlet for cultural expression, their role in developing a specifically Islamic variant of nationalism was less important than that played by spokesmen for the new Islamic societies of the period. Azharite-trained shaykhs such as ‘Abd Allah ‘Afifi, Muhammad Sulayman, and Mustafa al-Rifa'i al-Lubban occasionally contributed to Islamic nationalist publications; ‘alim and effendi both participated in the task of reformulating nationalism in more Islamic terms.
But on the whole Egypt's ‘ulama’ followed rather than led in the discourse which articulated Egyptian Islamic nationalism.
The third supra-Egyptian nationalist ideology to develop in Egypt in the 1930s and 1940s was Egyptian Arab nationalism. Like Islamic nationalism and integral nationalism, it too rejected the exclusivist territorial nationalism of the past and in its place postulated an Egyptian identification with a larger entity – in this case, the Arab nation. Its specifics in part overlapped with Islamic nationalism which accepted the Arabness of Egypt as a part of Egypt's Muslim identity, and with integral nationalism which viewed the Arab world as the most immediate arena of Egyptian leadership and greatness.
But Egyptian Arab nationalism had its own character which made it quite distinct from its rivals. The most significant difference was in breadth. The Arabist outlook was less parochial than Islamic nationalism, which because of its religious focus, had little appeal to non-Muslims or those of a secular inclination. It was also less solipsistic than integral nationalism, whose aggressive nature alienated many Egyptians. Belief in Egypt as part of the Arab nation possessed a greater scope of attraction than either the Islamic or the integralist approach. In terms of production, a larger pool of intellectuals participated in its articulation; in terms of reception, it ultimately appealed to a wider range of public opinion. Its content incorporated elements of both Islamicism and integralism as well as of earlier territorial nationalism, but reshaped to fit its particularly Arab perspective. As a result of its synthetic character, it became the most widespread supra-Egyptian ideology of the era.
In order to substantiate the argument about the perception of conflict, we explore, in this chapter, the four areas of actual or potential conflict in the Jordan basin since 1967. They are: (1) the question of a dam on the Yarmouk, (2) exploitation of the Yarmouk waters, (3) the subterranean sources in Wadi Araba (ha-Arava) and, (4) the subterranean sources of the West Bank. As in the preceding chapters, our discussion highlights, where appropriate, those variables that influence riparian dispute and determine its outcome.
We find that in none of the four areas has relative power favored the Jordanians or the Palestine Arabs. On the contrary, it has favored Israel, or, as in the case of the Maqarin Dam, a combination of Israel and Syria. In only one of the four areas, the West Bank, can the water resources in question be considered essential for the survival of the State of Israel. (And in part for this reason, Israel is acutely concerned about the future status of this territory.) Hence the perception that this constitutes a source of conflict with the Arabs. In contrast, in at least two and possibly three of the areas, the waters are fundamental to the security concerns of Arabs.
The combination of relative power resources and the fact of inter-state conflict over core values influenced the outcome of Eric Johnston's efforts in the Jordan basin. No doubt, cognitive dynamics would continue to guide the foreign policy behavior of the riparian states, and the objective environment, or more specifically, the distribution of power, would establish outcomes.
In this chapter, we discuss the Jordan waters crisis of 1964 and the deterioration of relations in the central Middle East that led up to the outbreak of the third Arab—Israel war. Our primary concern is to highlight the complexity of inter-state relations in the region, and the perceptions and security concerns that emanated from them. The aim is to understand the way in which cognitive variables influenced the decision-making and regional behavior of the Arab states and Israel. First, we outline the developments that provoked the Jordan waters crisis and other critical events of the period. Then, we analyze the foreign policy behavior of the states in question, in terms of their different perceptions of themselves and the environment. Finally, we evaluate the cognitive dynamics in relation to outcomes in the Middle East in 1964 and 1967.
Before proceeding, two points of clarification must be made.
The danger to world peace in the Middle East is clear to us all. The unrelenting antagonism between the Arab states and Israel is invitation to mischief by the Kremlin. No one can say how swiftly or in what direction the flame of open war between Arab and Jew might spread. But no one can doubt that the strategists of Communism would be quick to fan the flame. Chaos is their ally.
Much of American foreign economic policy today is premised on the assumption that healthy social progress is the most effective antidote to the Communist virus, which, in common with its bacteriological cousins, strikes hardest at run-down, poorly nourished systems. For this reason, we have undertaken a global effort to help less-advanced peoples help themselves toward a better and more rewarding life. But in the Middle East, the continuing tension between Israel and her Arab neighbors is a massive barrier to economic development and the kind of progress we believe the people of the region must and can achieve.
Until there is rapprochement between the nations of the region, social progress is going to be slow. Until there is progress, mass discontent will not abate, but swell. While the discontent persists, the ground remains fertile for the seeds of Communism. They are being sown there now.
From the text of a lecture by Eric Johnston at Cornell University, 6 May 1954; US Information Service Daily News Bulletin, vol. 6, no. 88, copy in INA 3688/9, “masa u-matan im Johnston”
When Israeli forces invaded Lebanon in June 1982, some observers claimed that one of Israel's objectives was to seize control of the Litani River. At the time, I found the allegation intriguing. Why would a state launch such a costly military operation for the sake of a river that, even by regional standards, was not particularly abundant? What Israeli national security concerns could possibly be epitomized by a Lebanese river? When I began graduate school at Princeton University in the fall of that year, I told my teacher, Charles Issawi, that I was interested in exploring the role — if indeed there was one — that rivers, and water in general, have played in the ongoing and unresolved Arab—Israeli confrontation. He chuckled and said: “That should keep you busy for a while.” Little did I know that ten years later I would still be studying the complex relationship between riparian dispute and inter-state conflict.
No doubt my initial curiosity with the “lure of the Litani” was quickly dwarfed by the larger, and far more engaging political issues raised by the experience in the Jordan River basin. For one, it became clear to me that there was, indeed, an intimate link between water resources and national security.
In two seminal articles from the 1950s, Harold and Margaret Sprout discuss the importance played by the environment, or milieu, in international politics. They argue that to make sense of the political behavior of states and of individuals requires understanding the environment, or context, in which actors operate and the variety of constraints and possibilities it poses. In response to geopolitical theories of international behavior which assumed the pre-eminence of geographic variables — in vogue from World War I until mid-century — the Sprouts posit an integrated, holistic view of the environment, taking account of both physical and non-physical features. The environment is a multi-dimensional system in which no one variable occupies a pre-eminent position. And because human activity is affected by environmental factors, broadly defined, politics can only be understood by exploring the multiplicity of “man—milieu relationships.”
However, the Sprouts caution that it is not enough to study objective environmental conditions to make sense of political behavior. Perceptions of the environment — what the Sprouts refer to as the “psychomilieu” — are themselves important objects of study and analysis. Indeed, it is on the basis of perceptions that decisions are made and policy carried out. Nonetheless, the outcome of decisions is conditioned by the actual environment, or, “operational milieu.”
The project was prepared at the request of the United Nations under the direction of the Tennessee Valley Authority by Charles T. Main, Inc. (Boston Mass., 1953). It is an engineering office study based upon materials, reports, and data made available to the Tennessee Valley Authority, and done without field investigations. The following is a summary of its main features.
First, the essence of the report has been described thus:
As a problem of engineering the most economic and the quickest way to get the most use from the waters of the Jordan River system requires better organisation of the headwaters on the Hasbani and in the Huleh area to serve the lands by gravity flow within that part of the Jordan watershed and use of Lake Tiberias as a storage reservoir for the flood flows of the Jordan and Yarmouk Rivers. From Lake Tiberias these waters would be made available by gravity flow to irrigate lands on the east and west sides of the Jordan Valley to the south… Use of the natural reservoir afforded by Lake Tiberias takes advantage of an asset already at hand; there is no known alternative site, at any cost, for a reservoir that would effectively regulate and store the flood flows of the Jordan and its main tributary, the Yarmouk … Thus the report describes the elements of an efficient arrangement of water supply within the watershed of the Jordan River system. It does not consider political factors or attempt to set this system into the national boundaries now prevailing.
From letter submitted by Gordon Clapp, Chairman of the Board, TVA, to the Director of UNRWA; beginning of report
Having analyzed the conflict over the waters of the Jordan River basin from its inception to the present day and drawn comparisons with other cases of riparian dispute in protracted conflict settings, three tasks remain in our inquiry. First, we answer the questions posed in the introduction, in light of the historical record. Second, we evaluate the four variables, or dynamics of state behavior, in terms of the role each has played and the importance of that role in promoting or impeding cooperation. Finally, we refine our argument on the potential for cooperation in international river basins, highlighting the relative persuasiveness of realism and liberal institutionalism.
Conflict and cooperation explained
In the specific case of the Jordan basin, how has the larger political conflict shaped the various efforts to find a negotiated solution to the water dispute?
Over the course of the history of the water dispute, and given the intense hostility between Israel and the Arab states, the primary concern of the parties in considering possibilities for cooperation has been with the issue of relative, and sometimes even absolute, gains. As neo-realists and some neo-liberal institutionalists would expect, neither side has been willing to engage in any activity that could help the adversary become stronger.
Since Water and power went to press in the fall of 1992, the Middle Eastern region has witnessed a number of historic developments, some of which impact directly upon the politics of water. I am pleased, therefore, that this new edition allows me the opportunity to continue the story of the Jordan waters conflict up to the present.
Most significant of the recent developments is that the peace process that was set in motion at the Madrid conference in the fall of 1991, in the wake of the Gulf war, has taken on a life of its own. This, I may add, had not been anticipated; prior to Iraq's invasion of Kuwait, no one in the public domain could have predicted with any degree of certainty that a resolution of the four-decade-long Arab—Israeli conflict was about to be put back onto the negotiating table and, more importantly, would remain there for as long as it has.
These were particularly fortuitous developments for Water and power, as well. Despite the fact that the subject matter of the book had represented the focus of my research interests since the early 1980s — before the water dimension of the Arab—Israeli relationship became highly publicized — the book suddenly found itself at the center of the arena of Middle Eastern affairs and squarely within the agenda of the peace process.
After six days of fighting, the geopolitical map of the central Middle East changed dramatically. By occupying the Sinai Peninsula, Gaza Strip, West Bank, Golan Heights, and East Jerusalem, Israel more than trebled the territory it controlled. The new territorial configuration of the region represented a remarkable strategic improvement for Israel. Its land boundaries had shrunk by about 25 percent, while its shoreline more than doubled. In the south, Egyptian forces had been pushed back across the desert to the opposite side of the Gulf of Suez. In the north, Israeli forces had captured the high ground over Syria, thus bringing them within 24 kilometres of the Damascus—Amman highway. And in the center of the country, the cease-fire line was pushed eastward beyond the West Bank, to the Jordan River. (See map 6.1.)
Israel's gains were also impressive insofar as water resources were concerned. By occupying the Syrian Golan Heights, it controlled the headwaters of the Banias tributary. The only remaining northern source of the Jordan system outside Israel's command was the Hasbani tributary, rising in southeastern Lebanon. (By 1978, however, the state had gained much influence in that region. And since the 1982 invasion of Lebanon, Israeli forces have maintained effective control over the south and thus, of the Hasbani tributary, as well.)