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The Israel-Palestine crisis is often described in biblical terms: “war in the holy land;” “Muslim v Jew;” or “the new Crusades.”
But while it has always had religious overtones, the ongoing conflict was originally about land: who had a right to it and who didn’t. It pitted Palestinian claims to the right of incumbency against Israeli assertions to the right of settlement and sovereignty.
Sadly, that distinction – land over faith – may no longer be valid.
Nearly 30 years ago, the Oslo Accords laid the foundations for a two-state peace deal between Israel and the Palestinians. The agreement was signed by leaders of the Israeli Labor party and the Palestinian Liberation Organization, led by Yasser Arafat.
To be sure, neither of these groups was shy about espousing maximalist ideas. The PLO had long refused to acknowledge Israel’s right to exist and had used violence to advance its aims. Meanwhile, Israeli Prime Minister Golda Meir famously asserted that there was “no such thing” as the Palestinians.
But in the end, Labor Zionists and Palestinian Liberation fighters were driven chiefly by worldly, nationalist ideas. This left them ideological room to make concessions. That room for compromise underpinned the Oslo Accords.
Sadly, since then conflict has evolved into a clash between religious zealots on both sides, backed by secular right-wing extremists.
On the Israeli side, the assassination of Israeli Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin, one of the architects of Oslo, by a Jewish religious extremist in November 1995 may have marked the death knell for compromise.
Israeli Prime Minister Benyamin Netanyahu’s subsequent rise to power, and the Israeli government’s drift to the political and religious right ever since, ensured the territorial compromise envisaged in the Oslo deal could never be implemented as originally intended. The government that Netanyahu formed late last year was the most right-wing in Israel’s history, with senior cabinet figures who openly espoused – and worked toward – a territorially expansionist “Land of Israel” agenda.
Meanwhile, the Fatah-led Palestinian Authority proved corrupt and impotent in the face of Israeli intransigence, and the lack of progress elevated more radical Islamist groups like Hamas, which Israel had once viewed as a convenient counterweight to Arafat’s long-dominant PLO.
This inexorable shift rightward and into religious territory has not only driven us toward the current stage of the conflict, it also makes it harder to see a way to peace even when the dust from the latest violence settles.
Hamas’ slaughter of Israelis on Oct. 7, and the rising number of Palestinian civilians killed in Israel’s response since then, will fuel fresh resentment, anger, and extremism on both sides. Voices arguing for uncompromising and maximalist solutions will find succor and support as never before.
For the Israelis, Hamas’ killing spree will take Israel's security mentality back decades, to a time when it saw itself encircled by existential threats it was determined to subdue. And while the Israeli electorate may yet hold Netanyahu and his right-wing allies to account for policy failures that allowed Oct. 7 to happen, the damage to Israel’s psyche will run deep. Calls for peace with the Palestinians on equitable territorial terms will not be something most Israelis will want to consider for a long time.
For the Palestinians, meanwhile, the rising civilian death toll in Gaza, and the specter of a possible mass refugee crisis, will stoke extremism, giving more credence to radical voices that claim that an equitable peace deal with Israeli is a pipedream.
On both sides, then, there will be little room for voices of compromise.
But this trend won’t be limited only to Israel and the Palestinian territories. Israel’s retribution in Gaza is already stoking popular anger across the Arab world – belying the notion, which had become popular in recent years among Arab and Western governments, that the Palestinian issue was no longer an important one for the so-called “Arab Street.”
As a result, Arab governments are now looking to placate popular anger by allowing avenues for protest in support of the Palestinian cause. It is no accident that in Saudi Arabia the Grand Mufti of Mecca was allowed – almost certainly with Saudi Crown Prince Mohammed’s explicit permission -- to take a strikingly pro-Palestinian line in his first sermon following the Oct. 7 violence.
But that approach could easily spiral out of control in ways that pose threats to political stability, creating more fertile ground for precisely the kinds of Islamist and extremist ideas that governments across the region – particularly in Egypt, the Emirates and Saudi Arabia – have tried to crack down upon in recent years.
Theocratic Iran and its regional allies may stoke these fires as well, even if they still seem reluctant to be sucked into the current fighting for now. And their message will resonate with regional Islamist groups that have already shown their political potency.
All of this is something of a shock. Just a couple of weeks ago, it seemed that the Middle East, for all its problems, was moving toward greater stability and predictability. The desperate plight of the Palestinians was hardly improving, but the issue seemed contained, almost dismissed. A once unthinkable normalization deal was coming into focus between the Jewish State and Saudi Arabia.
The latest round of Israeli-Palestinian violence shattered those illusions. And with the nature of the conflict steeped more deeply than ever in maximalist, religious notions, the prospects for a lasting peace in the region look dim. There is always a chance that tragic war will lead to a fundamental recalculation on both sides, and that moderates will eventually win the day given the destruction that radicals have wrought. But don’t bet on it.
Raad Alkadiri is the managing director of Energy, Climate & Resources for Eurasia Group. He served as assistant private secretary to the UK Special Representative in Iraq from 2003-2004.
A U.S. soldier watches as a statue of Iraq's President Saddam Hussein fall in central Baghdad, Iraq, in April 2003.
On a visit to Iraq in the spring of 2021, I was chatting with a group of Iraqi and western friends – all current or former advisors to the Iraqi, US, or UK governments – when the conversation turned to whether the 2003 US-led war to depose Saddam Hussein’s regime had been worthwhile. The dogmatism, divisiveness, and emotion that characterized the debate in the run-up to the war were still evident. For some, ending the murderous brutality and atrocities of Saddam’s rule superseded any other concern. Others were more equivocal, pointing to the corruption, violence, and misrule of the US-bequeathed, post-2003 political order and the toll it has taken on the country.
On the 20th anniversary of the war, the question of whether Iraq is better or worse off and whether the cost in coalition lives and money was worth it is, almost inevitably, being revisited. But it is a feckless one. The reality of Iraq’s experience since 2003 cannot be captured by a simplistic dichotomy; the country is — as it always was — more complicated than that.
Some things are undoubtedly better. Representative politics has been entrenched. Elections — former President George Bush’s measure of democracy and freedom — are genuine contests that are seen as important to political legitimacy. Power has been transferred peacefully across seven successive governments.
The Iraqi media is one of the freest in the Middle East, with rival viewpoints on full display, and criticism of the political elite — unthinkable and deadly in Saddam’s era — is now common. And, after a disappointing first decade and a half, there are signs of economic stirrings underpinned by oil production that is now almost 50% above immediate pre-war highs.
Still, Iraq has fallen far short of the hopes and promises of the war’s proponents. While the country never became a failed state, it has flirted with it at times, especially during the 2005-2008 civil war and at the height of the Islamic State threat, when large swathes in the northwest of the country were beyond Baghdad’s control. Iraqi society still bears the scars of ethnosectarian violence and the divisions it bred.
Development and reconstruction have been slow and stunted. Corruption is endemic, and state services are shoddy at best. Islamist Shia militias act with impunity, answering to their own leaders and increasingly dominating government and state institutions. Meanwhile, the Kurdish region, beloved by its amply rewarded and vocal cheerleaders in the West, is increasingly divided between two warlord factions running what has long amounted to personal fiefdoms.
Washington (and London) bear a lot of responsibility for the outcome. The ignorance and hubris that guided pre-conflict planning and all that followed made for an occupation that was insufficiently resourced and lacked the most basic understanding of the country (or even its language). Hunkered down and detached in the heavily protected Green Zone, the US-led endeavor rested on feet of clay from the get-go, and Washington’s aversion to state building, combined with the disbanding of the Iraqi army and evisceration of the civil service, left Iraq without the tools for effective governance and administration.
Worse still, US post-war policy quickly fell prey to domestic political imperatives and the growing popular disaffection with the occupation at home, leaving the imperial timetable at odds with, and largely dismissive of, conditions on the ground in Iraq.
But the most corrosive aspect of US policy was the ethnosectarian political system it enshrined, dominated by a narrow coterie of identity-based parties that have ruled ever since. Bereft of any real understanding of Iraq or its society, and impatient for signs of “progress,” Washington officials took their cue from their nominal allies in the pre-war Iraqi opposition, turning a blind eye to their failings, and never quite realizing — or at least acknowledging — that, beyond ousting Saddam, their agendas were not the same.
Occupation on the cheap and on the run was never going to establish the foundations for the stable, prosperous Iraq that proponents of the war envisaged, but the kleptocratic, militia-dominated state that has emerged 20 years later is not wholly Washington’s fault.
The zenith of US imperial power, when its ambassadors chose governments, dictated laws, and forced through constitutions, is a distant memory. If the US built the exclusive political fortress that was and remains the Green Zone, the factions that it empowered have manned the ramparts to ensure their exclusive access and control would never be challenged. Power and privilege are what matters to this parasitic elite, not freedom and democracy, and they have taken full advantage of what they inherited to that end.
Iraq’s ethnosectarian factions have fractured over time, and newer faces and groups have come to the fore, but the underlying players and the political equation have remained largely unaltered. The current prime minister, Mohammed Shi’a Sudani, is the first since 2003 not to have been in exile, but most major party leaders such as Nouri al-Maliki, Hadi al-Amiri, Masoud Barzani, or Ammar Hakim are either remnants of the former opposition or their offspring.
Elections determine the relative balance of power among the main players, but successive Iraqi coalition governments have been broad affairs, no matter who leads them, allowing the oligarchy to protect their exclusive power while feeding from the trough. Political opposition, even within the protected confines of the elite, is still regarded as an existential threat. Meanwhile, the real opposition to the corrupt system is brutally repressed, as the government’s deadly response to the 2019-2020 demonstrations starkly illustrated.
Change in the near term is unlikely. Every new Iraqi government talks about reform, but the preservation of the system will remain the number one priority for Iraq’s leaders and their various regional and international benefactors. After over 40 years of war, sanctions, deprivation, and domestic violence, the majority of the population is exhausted, increasingly detached from politics, and largely resigned to the state of affairs.
There are pockets of opposition activism on the “Iraqi street,” especially in the Shia-majority center and south, the heartland of real power in Iraq. But it is disorganized, unfunded, and largely powerless relative to the leviathan that is the US-bequeathed Iraqi state. Good men do not last long in Iraq, either neutralized or co-opted, and the seeds of systemic change are few and far between.
Maybe this was always the most likely outcome. The flourishing liberal democracy that US neo-conservatives imagined would catalyze regional change was never in the cards. A poor vegetable vendor in Tunisia did more to bring about a democratic revolution in the Middle East than the US adventure in Iraq ever did, and the eventual outcome was greater authoritarianism across the region.
Thus, Iraq will likely remain a mismanaged, kleptocratic, violent, and underdeveloped state governed by a political elite that is consumed with self-interest and sustained by oil revenue, the force of arms, and regional and international powers that see the country through the narrow focus of their national security priorities.
Not the worst outcome that could have been imagined in 2003 or since, but certainly less than the Iraqi people deserve.
Raad Alkadiri is the managing director of Energy, Climate & Resources for Eurasia Group. He served as assistant private secretary to the UK Special Representative in Iraq from 2003-2004.
An oil pump is seen at sunset near Reims, France.
We’ve heard dire warnings in recent weeks from oil industry analysts and professionals about how already-high oil prices could rise to record levels in the coming months. Goldman Sachs has increased its price forecast for the second half of the year to $135 per barrel. Trading giant Trafigura predicted that prices could rise even higher to over $150 per barrel.
Underpinning these alarms are fears that the war in Ukraine will lead to a big fall in Russian crude production and exports. Ever since Russia invaded its western neighbor, markets have been on alert for signs of acute disruptions that would squeeze crude supplies.
But what if they are looking in the wrong direction? What if the fixation on the risk of a supply shock (losing Russian barrels) is diverting attention from a very real weakening of global demand for oil?
Recent data suggests that may be the case. Global oil supply has held up remarkably well since the Ukraine war began. Forbearance and sanctions have forced Russia to find alternative buyers for its crude exports. But it has not stopped the flow of Russian oil. The total volume of world oil production is more than sufficient to meet demand.
In fact, weaker-than-expected demand for oil means that the world is actually oversupplied at the moment, to the tune of around 1 million barrels per day, and this overhang is likely to extend through the summer.
Lockdowns in China, a traditional powerhouse of global demand growth, have hit consumption levels there. Given Beijing’s adherence to zero-COVID, tough restrictions seem likely to continue for several months.
Meanwhile, rising interest rates and high inflation are hitting economic growth worldwide, which will further reduce demand for oil. A recession in the US or Europe would only make this situation worse.
To be fair, acute levels of uncertainty and a lack of clear data are clouding markets’ crystal balls, making the future even harder to predict than usual. The fog of war, political pressure to put tougher sanctions on Russia, and very low levels of spare oil in OPEC are creating a dizzying array of political risks.
But once markets start paying more attention to fundamentals, prices could drop. If this attention shift is prompted by signs of even-greater demand weakness, the falloff could be steep. Prices started their latest upward climb from just over $70 per barrel in late December. Demand tends to be stronger in the summer, so prices are unlikely to fall to those levels. But overall, underlying market conditions are not all that different than they were then.
This is not to say that predictions of higher prices will not yet materialize. An EU ban on European and UK insurance companies from providing coverage to worldwide cargo-carrying Russian oil could hit exports hard when it comes into force in late 2022.
But with time to arrange alternatives, Russia and its customers are likely to find workarounds that would keep a lot of oil flowing. The EU ban is also facing political pushback from countries that are taking advantage of discounted crude imports from Russia.
India has been lobbying EU governments to either annul the ban or offer exemptions, and the Biden administration would rather that Europe take steps to deny Russia access to export revenue than force Russian oil off the market completely.
An oil price fall, however, will offer little relief from high gas and diesel prices in the near term. Skyrocketing prices at the pump are the result of a fall-off in refined product exports from Russia, which has prompted emergency hoarding in Europe and China, and from a drop in the world’s refining capacity over the past few years. Cheaper crude prices will do nothing to alleviate these logjams. Neither will higher volumes of oil production.
Reversing refining shortfalls will take increased investment over a number of years. In the meantime, the best hope for bringing down petrol prices would be a significant fall in demand. But as that might mean the world is in recession, it would be little more than small mercies for consumers.
A worker turns a valve at a Russian oil field near the Ural Mountains.
Russia’s invasion of Ukraine has prompted fears of a disruption of oil and gas supplies to Europe, sending prices to new highs. Brent crude futures reached $105 per barrel in the immediate aftermath of the news before falling back; European natural gas prices jumped by as much as 25%.
Coming at a time of already tight supplies, the conflict is bound to maintain upward pressure on prices, unless it becomes clear that Russian exports will not be interrupted. The impact will be felt directly by US consumers and others, and it will contribute further to already-high inflation.
Escalating tension over Ukraine had pushed prices up even before the invasion. Fears that Russian natural gas exports through Ukraine were at risk had been an important factor driving record-high prices in Europe, which relies on Russia for over 40% of its natural gas imports. Ukraine had less impact on oil prices, but with demand growth outstripping the increases in supply, markets are wary.
Still, the Russian invasion of Ukraine has not (yet) led to an immediate interruption of oil or natural gas supplies. Trade in Russian oil slowed temporarily in anticipation of US and EU sanctions, but given that the initial US and EU measures put in place did not target energy, crude sales are likely to return to normal.
Natural gas supplies are more vulnerable given that about 20% of Russian gas exports outside of former Soviet Union countries flow through Ukraine. The risk of damage to pipelines will grow as the fighting escalates, and Russia may seek to deny Ukraine transit fees by declaring force majeure to remove Russian liability over gas shipments through this route. Such a move by Russia would have the additional benefit of hitting EU finances as well by raising the cost of alternative supplies to the bloc.
In the longer term, the risk to energy supplies will depend on two factors.
The first is whether tighter sanctions are imposed by the US and the EU. Deeper and wider sanctions are certainly possible, especially if Russia seeks to occupy all or parts of Ukraine. US and EU officials insisted in the run-up to the invasion that they would seek to avoid measures that directly target Russian energy flows, not least because of the damage to their own economies.
But the tougher the financial sanctions that are imposed and the greater the number of Russian banks targeted, the greater the risk that Western companies will balk at conducting business with these financial institutions. This hesitancy could derail transactions in the energy sector and others. At the very least, having to comply with sanctions will make Western banks more reticent to deal with their Russian counterparts.
Oil transactions will probably be affected first, as this trade is largely short-term. But, over time, long-term gas contracts will also be affected.
The second factor is whether Russia retaliates against sanctions by deploying its own "energy weapon”: cutting off oil and gas exports to Europe. It has not threatened such measures so far; on the contrary, Russia’s government and companies were at pains to emphasize their reliability as energy suppliers immediately prior to the invasion, and have raised natural gas flows in the aftermath of military operations. Reversing course now would destroy their credibility in the markets and bring huge financial and commercial costs.
Energy is a major source of revenue for the Kremlin, with oil and natural gas making up 40% of its budget receipts. For big companies such as Gazprom, breaking long-term contracts with the EU risks major legal liability and would further accelerate the bloc's moves to decouple from its dependence on Russian gas.
On the oil side, interrupting physical supplies would force Russian companies to cede market share. If that happens, other producers — particularly OPEC leaders such as Saudi Arabia — would face increasing pressure to use their own spare capacity to fill the gap in Russian supplies.
Nevertheless, the invasion of Ukraine demonstrates that Russian President Vladimir Putin is willing to take large gambles. Therefore, the possibility of a full suspension of oil and natural gas exports to the EU cannot be dismissed. If it does happen, the impact would be devastating, not just to those European economies dependent on Russian imports, but to the wider global economy as well.
Cutting off all natural gas exports to Europe would lead to massive power shortages and sky-high prices that would drive the EU and UK economies into long-term recessions. Meanwhile, a suspension of Russian oil exports to Europe would immediately drive global prices well above $100 per barrel, and spur more global inflation.
It would be a pyrrhic victory victory at best for Russia, given the likely long-term strategic and energy blowback. But in his current mood, Putin may not care.
Raad Alkadiri is managing director for Energy, Climate & Resources at Eurasia Group.