The fourth chapter gives a succinct historical description of the secular nationalist ideologies in Syria, Lebanon, and Israel and compares the secular political movements in these countries as they have different regime types and political cultures. The chapter also provides brief biographical accounts of the three top executive leaders from each country: Bashar al-Assad, Saad al-Hariri, and Benjamin Netanyahu. The authors also present and compare the operational code results of the leaders and deliberate on what kind of generic foreign policy behavior and strategies we should expect from secular nationalist leaders. The chapter also sheds light on what these results and strategies mean for MENA politics and for the international relations discipline.

The manner in which armed conflicts are catagorised is an important feature of the politics of warfare. There are different implications and aspects of symbolism whether a conflict is categorised as being a civil war or a geopolitical shatterbelt. This is of relevance and significance for foreign sponsors and patrons of the conflict as terminology is useful in determining how different audiences perceive and react to the conflict in question. This chapter explores the rhetorical categorisation of the conflicts in Syria and Ukraine in terms of the narratives and storytelling used to engineer opinions, perceptions and responses to these conflicts.

Using a classical perspective tending to interpret existing positive international law, this chapter pursues a double objective. First, it fits in with the doctrinal trend embodied by the Institut de droit international (IDI) in emphasising that intervention by invitation is unlawful if it implies interference in an internal situation, contrary to the right of peoples to self-determination. Second, this research highlights the growing role of the UN Security Council in appraising and characterising the conditions surrounding the legal validity of intervention by invitation. The chapter focuses on military operations in Mali (2013), Iraq (2014), Syria (2015), Yemen (2015), and The Gambia (2017). It observes how, by adopting resolutions, the UN Security Council made pronouncements on which authority was entitled to give its consent, and on the legitimacy of the object and effects of the intervention. The chapter concludes that the Council no longer necessarily authorises any military intervention, but centralises and multilateralises the appraisal of the circumstances surrounding the formulation of the invitation.

In French colonial history, we can read the world wars as a single conflict. The Great War and World War II broke the French empire as it existed in the previous century. The empire contributed substantially in blood and treasure to victory in 1918, though mobilization for that war deepened existing colonial tensions and created new ones. Shifting dynamics pointed to a renegotiation of basic colonial bargains. An ostensibly new colonial doctrine, the mise en valeur, sought to make the empire a more cohesive economic and political unit. Anti-colonial movements became stronger and more articulate throughout the interwar period, though repression and military force had little trouble preserving imperial authority, for the time being. The defeat of 1940 upended imperial relationships. How could the Vichy regime rule an empire when it had very limited authority even in the Hexagon? Yet Free France promised only continued, if reformed, imperial rule. This situation made questions of collaboration and resistance at least as complicated in the empire as in Europe. By 1945, it became clear to the attentive that the French empire would either have to expire or become something else.

After 2011, the Syrian opposition took on the Assad government directly through military means and indirectly by establishing pockets of rule beyond the government’s reach. As rebels took control of many government-held locations, they sparked the establishment of insurgent governing institutions in hundreds of communities. Local opposition-run institutions in the form of civilian-led local councils proliferated, dotting the provinces of Aleppo, Idlib, rural Damascus, Raqqa, Hama, and Homs. They worked to deliver basic relief and restore public services, sometimes in collaboration with, but often operating separately from, their armed counterparts. The boundaries of this “political marketplace”1 grew increasingly porous as a number of foreign states and private actors directly championed clients of their choosing, bolstering their favorites with financial and military support.2

The very project of counter-state-building, as conceived in twenty-first-century international relations, required Syria’s opposition leaders to convince prospective foreign patrons of the worthiness of the revolutionary endeavor. For those institutions that became clients of the West, they worked, as Clifford Bob would have it, to market their rebellion with agility.1 To make their case, they attended, paradoxically, to an outward-facing politics at the expense of cultivating an authoritative closeness from within. Still, both donor and recipient engaged one another “as if” the introduction of limited foreign support could do the work of connecting an aspiring commanding heights to the revolutionary grassroots. As such, we interpret this performance of counter-statehood not merely as a product of Syrian opposition politics but rather as a collaboration between the opposition and its foreign patrons.

At its heart, this is a book about the social and political lives of Syrians who rose up against the Assad regime and found themselves governing their own affairs for a sustained moment in time. We will consider, in the coming pages, how they understood the new authoritarianism of the Islamic State in Raqqa, the transition from popular protest to a kind of elite consolidation in Saraqeb, the deprivation under siege in Darayya, and the semi-anarchic choreography of violent competition in eastern Aleppo. Before delving into our findings, we will spend a few pages discussing the methods we mobilized in the service of this research and the means by which we designed (and redesigned) our study along the way. While some readers may wish to skip this look behind the curtain, we want to offer transparency about the means employed, the challenges that arose, and the quandaries therein.1

We turn from Raqqa – a site where the absence of connective ties deprived the Islamic State of citizen trust – to Saraqeb, where the bonds of solidarity heavily informed the local council’s governing model and authority. In late 2012, a Free Syrian Army (FSA) campaign made Saraqeb the first liberated town in northern Syria. Before the war, this small city of 50,000 inhabitants relied on agriculture and iron and oil production industries. Its location was important due to its proximity to Idlib City and its position along the main artery running from Turkey to Hama Governate further south. 1 A local FSA affiliate, together with the locally bred Islamist militia, Ahrar al-Sham, succeeded in liberating the town from the Assad regime in November 2012.

We have worked to establish, throughout this book, that institutional closeness is both an important and understudied good for rebels striving to achieve authoritative rule. We explored various forms of closeness through connection and the means by which they mediated the management of coercion and capital in local insurgent-controlled communities. We also considered the possibilities and limits of these social solidarities to compensate for these young institutions’ material deficiencies. But, ultimately, absent the sinews of national institutions capable of binding them to one another, even the most authoritative of local opposition councils, while markers of profound political change, would remain perpetually disaggregated in structure and effect. Therefore, in this penultimate chapter, we move from the local level of insurgent politics up to the national level to examine the opposition institution of the Syrian Interim Government (SIG) that was meant (and failed) to bring the counter-state together.1

Protest in the face of authoritarian rule necessitates a kind of audacity rarely, if ever, called for in daily life. When uprising turns to revolt and revolt to civil war, new questions arise: What comes next? What combination of suffering and joy does the future hold? And to whom should one now turn to manage those matters previously entrusted to the state? Even as new political possibilities arise, the stuff of ordinary life does not disappear but instead must be managed on terms that are both newly expansive and constrained. As people confront the hopes and hardships that come with rebellion, bread must be baked, crimes punished, and garbage collected.

When we turned to the besieged Damascene suburb of Darayya, we found a very different narrative emerging around the production and evolution of rebel governance from those in Raqqa and Saraqeb. Darayya, a mere 8 kilometers from the country’s capital, sat close to the regime’s military airport, the General Intelligence Service Headquarters, and the Interior Ministry.1 The accounts from this place were not of people controlled by an occupying rebel force or an emergent limited access order, but rather a community – rebels included – that had cohered as the target of a sustained, merciless siege by the regime on account of its early and enthusiastic participation in the uprising.

When we turned to Aleppo, we discovered a cityscape that was more complicated than those of Raqqa, Saraqeb, and Darayya. Its battle lines crisscrossed the city, continually shifting during our period of study, making each neighborhood its own unique nucleus in an atomized space. Aleppo is the oldest and second largest Syrian city. Known for its mercantile past and modern industrial present, the city had approximately 3 million residents before the conflict began. The first wave of protests began in 2011, and the city council came into being in March 2013 and was staffed by over 550 personnel by 2016.1

As the Syrian uprising took a violent turn, armed fighters and civilian leaders alike carved out insurgent micropolitical economies across the country’s contested territories. Raqqa City was the first provincial capital to fall from the regime’s control into the hands of opposition forces. The city elected its first opposition council, the Raqqa city council, in early 2014, but the council proved short-lived. By mid-2014, a zealous band of foreign fighters had consolidated control over the city with the aim of establishing a caliphate that would transcend the Westphalian state system and manifest an extreme vision of Islamic rule. These aspiring governors quickly established a monopoly over coercion and availed themselves of a range of capital assets through access to natural resources, looting, and various forms of taxation in the service of their state-building effort. Our close reading of accounts from the city of Raqqa between 2014 and 2016 revealed the corresponding emergence of tight forms of social control as well as the demonstrated capacity to deliver a wide array of key services. In these ways, the so-called Islamic State proved to be a paragon of rebel governance, mobilizing key forms of material power to erect a robust new political order.

This chapter details the first attempt of the Black Consciousness Movement (BCM) to put together an armed wing in exile in Botswana. After engaging with the different movements in exile Mafuna, Matshoba, Mafole and Nengwekhulu had to figure out how their Black Consciousness praxis would fit in this new phase of struggle. Based out of Botswana, they were able to maintain close communications with the internal wing of the movement that was growing rapidly. They had to use the skills they learned building BCM inside the country in exile to keep their work discreet, yet, continue to organize in plain sight. Eventually, they were able to receive help from the PAC and North African/Middle Eastern radicals in their quest for military training. This represented a continuation of the Azanian Black Nationalist Tradition in Botswana and showed Black Consciousness had the ability to learn from and absorb tactics, strategies and theories from wider Third-World struggles. Critically, the movement would have to encounter patriarchy and sexism as it pertained to who could even obtain military training. Marginalizing the gender question weakened the formation and demeaned the labour, triumphs and sacrifices of Black women who had with the men made their work possible.

The founding father of the laws of armed conflict, Hugo Grotius assumed a ceasefire to be a temporary state of affairs that did not alter the legal state of war. He wrote that if hostilities resumed after a ceasefire is declared, there is no need for a new declaration of war to be made since the legal state of war is ‘not dead but sleeping’. While the official legal state of war may be sleeping’, Grotius’ metaphor perhaps does not imply that nothing happens. Even during sleep, much can and does occur that we are temporarily unaware of. However, ceasefires continue to be largely considered in relation to how to better bring warring parties to the negotiating table, hostilities to a halt and/or their influence on peace processes. The argument advanced in this book is that ceasefires in fact rarely only ‘cease fire’. Consequently, the book offers a more nuanced examination of two core questions: what ceasefires actually are and what areas they affect.

Chapter 4 examines the Jazira’s divided connection from 1918 to 1939 as the region was divided between the Republic of Turkey, French Syria, and British Iraq. It does so through a focus on locusts, refugees, and various interwar state-making projects. While all of the different states in the Jazira endeavored to differentiate themselves from the Ottomans, they undertook strikingly similar projects based on refugee resettlement and sodium arsenite, the new insecticide that each state wielded to kill locusts. The substance did not altogether end the reign of locusts in the region, but it marked a shift in envisioning the land without the insects. The change also coincided with an unprecedented autonomist movement advocating for a French protectorate of the Jazira, and the ensuing conflict encompassed all of the protagonists of Locusts of Power, from the Shammar and the Millî to Armenian genocide survivors and Assyrian refugees. The autonomist effort failed, and the Jazira became the foremost space of Syrian agricultural development, Ottoman dreams of prosperity finally coming to fruition.