Yemen: Dancing on the Heads of Snakes
Page 31
As early as 2002, when the American author Robert Kaplan was in Yemen researching a book on the American military abroad, it had been clear that thanks to Brigadier-General Ali Muhsin al-Ahmar the country was quietly circumventing President George W. Bush’s bellicose war cry of ‘you’re either with us or against us’. Instead, it was spreading its risk by being both for and against, much as the the YAR had sided with the West against Marxism during the Cold War while looking to the USSR for its armaments. Kaplan wrote: ‘it was Ali Muhsen’s ties to the radicals that gave the president the political protection he needed to move closer to the Americans - temporarily that is. And also to distance himself from the Americans swiftly and credibly if that, too, became necessary.’21 It was also Brigadier-General al-Ahmar who brokered the deal that kept Yemen almost free from jihadist incidents between 2003 and 2007; if the jihadists refrained from attacking targets inside Yemen, then Yemen would neither hunt them down or extradite them to the US.
But the breakdown of the tacit agreement with the jihadists after 2007 and subsequent attacks by an Iraq-hardened generation of al-Qaeda likewise damaged his credibility among the other bugs in Salih’s shirt, let alone with the general population. Some believe the brigadier-general and the president - both Sanhani tribesmen of the Hashid northern highlander tribal federation, but from different clans - long ago agreed that the former would replace the latter when the time was ripe, but that Salih has reneged on the deal by setting out, like the imams before him, to groom his son for the succession. Such people viewed all Yemen’s troubles through a highly personalised prism of a two-man rivalry resembling that of Octavian and Mark Antony, or Tony Blair and Gordon Brown. For example, if Salih had used his son’s Republican Guard up in Saada to humiliate Ali Muhsin’s regular army, Ali Muhsin was getting his own back by encouraging his old friend and brother-in-law, Tariq al-Fadhli, to whip up trouble in the south.
By the end of 2009, no one and nothing looked strong enough to reverse Yemen’s decline as a useful ally of the West or its rise as a jihadist stronghold. Thanks to southern separatism and the al-Huthi rebellion threatening the integrity of the country and Salih’s apparent inability to tackle either with anything but force, events looked closer to boiling point than they had done since the civil war of 1994. Those accustomed to watching Yemen, as Kremlinologists once watched Moscow, knew that not only at qat chews in Sanaa and Aden and Mukalla and Taiz and Ibb, but among the diaspora all over the Gulf and beyond, in Britain and the United States, talks were being had, soundings being taken, new and improbable alliances being forged. While western intelligence agencies and think-tanks vaguely and gloomily forecast that a power vacuum and chaos in Yemen would open the door to a jihadist takeover and an important victory for al-Qaeda that might destabilise Saudi Arabia and so threaten the rest of the world, Yemenis able to afford the luxury of thinking about anything but their immediate daily needs felt themselves to be participating in a real and current, not an imagined and future, drama: the disintegration of their country.
a The paramount sheikhs family and the Brigadier-General share a name but are not directly related to each other.
AFTERWORD
A bungled attempt at a suicide bombing aboard a Northwest Airlines flight from Amsterdam to Detroit on Christmas Day 2009 sent Yemen straight to the top of the world’s news bulletins. The Yemen-based al-Qaeda in the Arabian Peninsula (AQAP) soon claimed responsibility for training the failed bomber, a young Nigerian named Omar Farook Abdulmutallab, and for supplying him with the explosives he had hidden in his underpants. Notably pious, even while a schoolboy at a British boarding school in Togo and a student of mechanical engineering at London’s University College, Abdulmutallab was a loner who had broken off relations with his family in early 2009, dropping out of an MBA course in Dubai in order to make a trip to Sanaa, where he had enrolled at a language school and contacted AQAP. It soon transpired that US intelligence services had had sufficient warnings but had failed to link them; Abdulmutallab’s father had even alerted the US embassy in Lagos that his radical Islamist son was missing in Yemen.
Not since al-Qaeda’s attack on the USS Cole in Aden harbour in 2000 had Yemen claimed so much of the world’s attention. But AQAP had been gaining in strength and confidence since the amalgamation of the Yemeni and Saudi al-Qaeda franchises a year earlier, and Western security agencies had been on the alert since the attack on the American embassy in Sanaa in September 2008. Already benefitting from the deteriorating economic and political conditions within Yemen, AQAP had been boosted still further by the escape of twenty-three top jihadists - one of them AQAP’s present leader, Nasir al-Wahayshi - from a Sanaa jail in summer 2006, and by the enlistment of yet more enthusiastic Islamist fighters returning from the war in Iraq or fleeing US drone attacks in Afghanistan and Pakistan.
It is tempting to join up Yemen’s jihadist dots and rebrand the country as the root of all al-Qaeda evil. The evidence appears to stack up: the fact that Yemen is bin Laden’s ‘ancestral homeland’ counts for a great deal in a tribal society; Aden was the scene of a spectacular al-Qaeda attack on US interests in October 2000; many of the 9/11 hijackers and remaining Guantanamo detainees are of Yemeni origin; and last, but not least, anyone interested in Islamist terrorism, whether from an ideological or a practical point of view, can feel certain of finding in Yemen all the training and support he requires.
But it would be a mistake to write off the country as a rotten fruit on the point of falling for a Taliban-type regime or the world’s first al-Qaeda state. The tangled and distinct histories of Yemen’s various regions means that there are powerful forces operating against jihadist influence throughout the country. A substantial counterweight in Hadhramaut, for example, is its indigenous Sufi tradition, which has been strongly resurgent since the collapse of the Marxist state in 1990. Hadhramaut’s close and profitable connections with émigré Hadhramis in Saudi Arabia and the rest of the Gulf states, and the old Hadhrami merchant diaspora in south-east Asia, also serve to work against rigorous Islamist control. In the Zaydi northern highlands the counterweight is supplied first by a small number of die-hard sayyid Zaydis, the followers of Abdul Malik al-Huthi, who abhor Wahhabism and Salafism of any kind and whose Shiism is detested in return, but secondly by the fact that - as history has demonstrated over and over again - the tribes of Yemen and particularly of the northern highlands care little for ideology or religion and everything for money and land. The same holds broadly true in the tribal lands around Aden, Britain’s Western Aden Protectorate until 1967, where there remains a residual regard for British notions of justice and free speech as opposed to those of sharia law, and even for Marxist secularism.
If all these influences pose problems for the spread of jihadism in Yemen, they are also contributing to the strong centrifugal forces that are starting to pull the country apart, and signal the likely failure of the national project and the demise of a united Yemen. The only sentiment coming anywhere close to uniting the country today is not any powerful passion for radical Islam but a mounting resentment against President Ali Abdullah’s Salih’s regime, against the Sanhani northern highland tribesmen who have maintained themselves in power by helping themselves to the oil revenues that are now beginning to run out.
One of the clearest lessons of Yemeni history is that the exercise of power by the northern tribes over Yemenis of the southern highlands and coastal regions and Hadhramaut may have protected the people from foreign interference on occasion but it has never benefitted or satisfied anyone but those northern tribes, and now even some of them - the al-Huthis - are rebelling. An inevitable hiatus between the dwindling of Yemen’s oil revenues and the country’s new LNG revenues coming on stream means that the next five years or less may well see the fragmentation of the state. The likeliest trigger for this is economic hardship, caused by the regime’s inability to pay the wages of the military and the vast numbers of civil servants who constitute the two pillars of its support. Such a break-up
into two or many more fragments may not be effected without violence, for the simple reason that the northern highland regime controls the means of coercion while the remaining oil and the new LNG plant are located in the south.
As the West racks its collective brain over how best to help Yemen wage its battle against AQAP when the country’s social and economic ills are already so overwhelming, it might at least resolve not to administer any aid that could be construed as propping up Salih’s regime. Western governments should take particular care to avoid supplying Yemen with any weaponry that could just as easily be deployed against Yemen’s southern dissidents, for example, as against AQAP. The consequences, in terms of internal suffering and worldwide anger, are easy to imagine.
It is equally worth bearing in mind that the West does not bear sole responsibility for ensuring that Yemen does not degenerate into a haven for global jihadists. In fact, there is a substantial risk that Western intervention - whether in the form of social or of military aid - will backfire by lending grist to the mills of influential Islamists like Sheikh Abdul Majid al-Zindani, who has long preached that the West is trying to re-colonise the Middle East.
We are fortunate in that, unlike Afghanistan, Pakistan and Somalia, Yemen happens to be surrounded by oil-rich Gulf states whose rulers are as hostile towards al-Qaeda and jihadism as the United States and its immediate allies, and who now realise that al-Qaeda chaos in Yemen spells al-Qaeda chaos across the entire Arabian Peninsula. These neighbouring states - each of which hosts a substantial Yemeni diaspora - are better equipped than any Western power to discover who to do business with in Yemen and how best to parley with tribesmen suspected of harbouring jihadists. Similarly, if there is a palace coup in the offing in Sanaa, it will be Yemen’s neighbours who have wind of it first, and if there are useful deals to be struck and alliances to be made, the Gulf states will be more attuned to their development and significance than the West is.
Before allowing a band of inept, suicidal and deracinated jihadists to terrify us into funnelling funds, arms and expertise to a country already bristling with weaponry and on the brink of collapse, whose people moreover are fundamentally opposed to foreign interference in their extraordinarily complicated affairs, we should perhaps recall the oddly similar sentiments of three men who, at intervals over the last hundred years, pondered their experience of Yemen - north and south. The last Ottoman pasha of Sanaa, Nasser’s Field Marshal al-Amer and the British diplomat Oliver Miles each admitted to feeling bewildered, wrong-footed and out-witted by the country and its people - in other words, to never having known the half of it. If the consensus of opinion is that the threat emanating from Yemen does, after all, demand action on the West’s part, it would be advisable to nurture a healthy suspicion that we still do not know the half of this most beautiful and enchanting, but also opaque and unstable, corner of the Arabian Peninsula. We should also remember the weary words of a former Soviet diplomat who put his finger on the real disincentive to adventuring in Yemen: cost.
NOTES
INTRODUCTION
1. http://www.bloomberg.com/apps/news?pid=20601100&sid=a_aYx9Hk2V2Q&refer=germany
2. IMF Country Report, INo.09/100, March 2009, p. 12.
CHAPTER 1: UNWANTED VISITORS (1538–1918)
1. Eric Macro, Bibliography on Yemen and Notes on Mocha, Florida: University of Miami Press, 1966, p. 33.
2. Frederique Soudan, Le Yemen Ottoman d’apres la chronique d’al-Mawza’i, Cairo: Institut Français d’Archeologie Orientale, 1999, p.293.
3. Muhammad ibn Ahmad Nahrawali (trans. Clive K. Smith), Lightning over Yemen: A History of the Ottoman Campaign (1569–71), London: I.B. Tauris, 2002, p. 9.
4. Ibid., p. 30.
5. Ibid., p. 16.
6. Ibid., p. 32.
7. Ibid., p. 40.
8. Ibid., p. 95.
9. Ibid., p. 89.
10. William Foster, ed., The Hakluyt Society: The Journal of John Jourdain 1608–1617, 2nd series, no. xvi, Cambridge, 1905, p. 105.
11. Ibid., p. 86.
12. Jean de La Roque, A Voyage to Arabia Felix, London: E. Symon, 1732, p. 237.
13. Bernard Haykel, Revival and Reform in Islam:The Legacy of Muhammad al-Shawkani, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2003, p. 16.
14. Anthony Wild, Coffee: A Dark History, London: Fourth Estate, 2004, p. 71.
15. Soudan, op. cit., p. 59.
16. de La Roque, op. cit., p. 107.
17. Ibid., pp. 199–202.
18. M. Niebuhr (trans. Robert Heron), Travels Through Arabia and Other Countries in the East, vol. 2, Garnet Education, 1994, pp. 78–82.
19. Haykel, op. cit., p. 44.
20. Ibid., p. 74.
21. P.J.L. Frankl, ‘Robert Finlay’s description of Sanaa in 1238–1239/1823’, British Society for Middle Eastern Studies Bulletin vol. 17–18, 1990–91, p. 23.
22. Ibid., p. 27.
23. Ibid., p. 26.
24. Gordon Waterfield, Sultans of Aden, London: John Murray, 1968, p. 22.
25. Richard H. Sanger, The Arabian Peninsula, Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1954, p. 203.
26. Ibid., p. 64.
27. Ibid., p. 71.
28. Ibid., p. 76.
29. Ibid., p. 77.
30. Ibid., p. 87.
31. R.A.B. Hamilton, The Kingdom of Melchior: Adventures in South West Arabia, London: John Murray, 1949, p. 74; Waterfield, op. cit., p. 82.
32. Waterfield, op. cit., p. 82.
33. Ibid., p. 121.
34. Ibid.
35. RJ. Gavin, Aden Under British Rule 1839–1967, London: Hurst & Co., 1975, p. 82.
36. Anonymous account of an officer of the 78th Highland Regiment - India and Aden, 1840–1853, British Library MSS EUR B277.
37. Charles Johnston, The View from Steamer Point: Three Crucial Years in South Arabia, London: Collins, 1964, p. 59.
38. Camp Residence in the Valley of Aden, British Library MSS10LM/2/518, Chatsworth MSS.
39. Z.H. Kour, The History of Aden 1839–72, London: Frank Cass, 1981, p. 101.
40. R.lN. Mehra, Aden and Yemen 1905–1919, Delhi: Agam rakrashan, 19oo, p. 31n.
41. David Holden, Farewell to Arabia, London: Faber, 1966, p. 30.
42. Thomas Kuhn, ‘Shaping Ottoman Rule in Yemen, 1872–1919’, unpublished Ph.D. thesis, New York University, May 2005, p. 84.
43. Ibid,. p. 60.
44. John Baldry ‘Al-Yaman and the Turkish Occupation 1849–1914’, Arabica, T.23, Fase 2, June 1976, pp. 156–96.
45. Faris al-Sanabani, a Yemeni businessman, was sent this translation by a Turkish friend, by text message.
46. S.M. Zwemer, Arabia: The Cradle of Islam, Edinburgh: Oliphant, Anderson & Ferrier, 1900, p. 69.
47. Aubrey Herbert, Ben Kendim, London: Hutchinson & Co., 1924, pp. 66–8.
48. Zwemer, op. cit., p. 68.
49. The Times, 4 January 1906.
50. Baldry, op. cit.
51. A.J.B. Wavell, A Modern Pilgrim in Mecca, London: Constable & Co., 1912, p. 257.
52. Cesar F. Farah, The Sultan’s Yemen:: 19th Century Challenge to Ottoman Rule, London: I.B.Tauris, 2002, p. 248.
53. Paul Dresch, A History of Modern Yemen, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2000, p. 6.
54. G. Wyman-Bury, Arabia Infelix: or the Turks in Yemen, Reading: Garnet Publishing, 1999 (1915), pp. 18–19.
55. Kuhn, op. cit., p. 291.
56. George Lenczowski, The Middle East in World Affairs, Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1952, p. 357.
CHAPTER 2: REVOLUTIONARY ROADS (1918–1967)
1. Lucine Taminian, ‘Persuading the Monarchs: Poetry and Politics in Yemen (1920–1950)’ in Remy Leveau, Franck Mermier and Udo Steinbach, eds, Le Yemen Contemporain, Paris: Karthla, 1999, p. 213.
2. Hugh Scott, In the High Yemen, London: John Murray, 1942, p. 175.
3. Amin Rihani, Arabian Peak and Desert: Travels in Al-Yaman, London: Constable & Co. Ltd, 1930, p. 225.
4.
Ibid., p. 196.
5. Wyman-Bury, op. cit., p. 39.
6. Ibid., p. 80.
7. Rihani, op. cit., p. 110.
8. Ibid., p. 93.
9. D. van der Meulen, Faces in Shem, London: John Murray, 1961, p. 129.
10. Sanger, op. cit., p. 268.
11. Ibid., p. 269.
12. Rhiani, op. cit., p. 117.
13. Dresch, op. cit., p. 56.
14. Ibid., pp. 56–7.
15. Chris Bradley, The Discovery Guide to Yemen, London: Immel Publishing Ltd, 1995, p. 267.
16. Khadija Al-Salami, The Tears of Sheba: Tales of Survival and Intrigue in Arabia, Chichester: John Wiley & Sons Ltd, 2003, p. 19.
17. Claudie Fayein, A French Doctor in Yemen, London: Robert Hale, 1957, p. 69.
18. Ibrahim al-Rashid, ed., Yemen Under the Rule of Imam Ahmad, Chapel Hill, NC: Documentary Publications, 1985, p. 24.
19. Ibid.
20. Ibid.
21. ‘Friends & Enemies’, Time, 14 April 1961.
22. Eric Macro, Yemen and the Western World, London: C. Hurst & Co., 1968, p. 118.
23. ‘Friends & Enemies’, Time, op. cit.
24. Gabe Oppenheim, ‘A Collector’s Eye for Artifacts - And Adventure’, Washington Post, 20 July 2008.
25. Holden, op. cit., p. 94.
26. Dresch, op. cit., p. 84.
27. Claude Deffarge and Gordian Troeller, Yemen ‘62-’69: De la Revolution Sauvage a la Treve des Guerriers, Paris: Robert Laffont, 1969, p. 49.