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One of the founders of the American constitution said that if men were angels, there would be no need for government. The leaders who put our nation on a course to democracy were, above all, skeptical and realistic about human nature. They recognized that without government, individual and narrow group self interest would rule. The strong would dominate the weak, often by violence or other coercive means. But our founders also recognized that government, once in power, had to be limited and balanced in order to prevent it from abusing the human rights of individuals. This history of the United States to this day involves balancing the need for effective government with individual liberty.

Let me start with some self-criticism of the actual practice of indirect representational democracy in America. Perhaps this will encourage our Libyan friends to examine seriously the degree of genuine participation in national decision-making by their direct democracy. Self-criticism, an-naqd al-dhati, is good medicine for both of us! Two points about American democracy particularly bother me. First, money plays a huge and growing role in US election campaigns, and this dilutes the electoral franchise of the vast majority of American citizens. Second, several Libyan speakers have criticized the representative nature of American democracy, saying that it is far better to have direct participation in the decision making process. Let me point out that as a citizen of the District of Columbia, I have no voting representative in Congress, and this is far more important to me than direct participation. Ya reit kan ‘andi niyaba haqiqiyya!

Let me turn to the current efforts of the US government to export our particular notions of political freedom. President Bush has stated that human freedom and the spread of democracy will advance US interests and protect the American people against terrorist threats. In the long run — the very long run — he may be right. But it would be unwise to ignore history under the influence of the euphoric slogan “Freedom is on the march.” Human freedom, like economic development or education, is desirable on its own merits. We should not, however, oversell the benefits of rapid political change, either for the United States or for the advancement of human rights in a particular country. This would repeat in a more benign way, but on a wider scale, the mistake we made in overselling the war to topple the Iraqi regime of Saddam Hussein. “Made in America” democracy will not be the answer to complex situations that in each country must be addressed with sensitivity to the local political and economic landscape.

For many, the words of the President’s inaugural address are inspiring: “… it is the policy of the United States to seek and support the growth of democratic movements and institutions in every nation and culture, with the ultimate goal of ending tyranny in our world.” This sounds nice, but it is not self-evident that freely elected parliaments in Arab countries, Iran or elsewhere in the Muslim world would be friendly to either the United States or to more traditional US foreign policy objectives. It is not clear that democratic governments in Palestine, Syria and Lebanon would be as ready to reach peace with Israel as were the unelected autocrats of Egypt and Jordan — Anwar Sadat and King Hussein. Hamas and Hezbollah, parties designated as terrorist organizations by the US and openly opposed to peace with Israel, have used elections to gain strong positions in the politics of the Palestinian Authority and Lebanon. Some of the leading opponents of the current government in Syria attack that government for seeking the resumption of peace negotiations with Israel.

Moreover, the spread of popular democracy in the form of free elections may not always work to our benefit in the war against terrorism. It is an awkward fact for the Bush administration that some of the most responsive allies in that effort have been autocratic regimes like those of Russia, Uzbekistan, Egypt, Saudi Arabia and Pakistan. Indeed, the Bush administration often seems to have two policies — one rhetorical and another molded by harsh realities on the ground. Pakistan is perhaps the most notable case. In the summer of 2001, US-Pakistani relations were at a low point. Yet in its first term, the administration named Pakistan as a major non-NATO ally, and within a few months of the stirring words in the President’s second term inaugural address Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice visited Pakistan and announced that we were lifting the embargo on the sale of F-16 jet fighter aircraft. This had nothing to do with any progress in terms of democratic reforms and everything to do with Pakistan’s role in the war against terrorism and the détente in Pakistan’s relations with India.

“Regional stability,” long one of the pillars of US policy toward the Middle East and North Africa, seems to be giving way to the newly fashionable notion that “constructive destabilization” of autocratic regimes to usher in a temporary period of chaos and bloodshed which will be a useful purgation of these societies. As we have discovered in Iraq, the overthrow of an autocratic regime is easier than building the foundation for progressive, democratic states. While the rhetoric of President Bush still reflects the immediate post invasion euphoria of two years ago, harsh realities on the banks of the Tigris and Euphrates rivers dictate that the Iraq experience is far from the transforming event that neo-conservative theorists on the banks of Potomac had advertised. Instead, Iraq is becoming an argument for not upsetting the status quo and for moving gradually, not abruptly, with any political reforms.

What is the view of the people in these countries? What is the impact on the personal rights they most cherish? What one increasingly hears from liberal Muslim intellectuals is a desire for political change but a rejection of the imposition of political reform from outside, whether by military force or subversion. With some noteworthy exceptions, the experiences of Iraq and the occupied Palestinian territories are undercutting the efforts of political reformers. The Egyptian street slogan of kifyayyah, literally “enough,” summarizes opposition not only to the apparently endless tenure of President Hosni Mubarak but also to prospects for ending the US and Israeli occupations of Arab populations. Until the spring of 2005, one could have added the Syrian occupation of Lebanon, highly unpopular not only in Lebanon but in other Arab countries. Syrian withdrawal pointedly underlined the demands for freedom from external control as well as for loosening the bonds of autocratic regimes. Foreign influence, as we all know, was one of the principal grievances that led to the Libyan Revolution of September 1, 1969.

Nor is desirable political change necessarily associated with the high profile American formula of multiparty elections and popular sovereignty through the ballot box. Desirable goals are more likely to be rule of law, government accountability and transparency of government decision-making. This leaves open the process for reaching those goals. In some of the most conservative Arab countries — the oil and gas producing politically traditional states of the Arabian Peninsula — the preferred route may be through cautious top down progress toward constitutional monarchies. Several of the hereditary rulers have been moving ahead at a rate that seems slow to many in the west but makes progressive elements inside these countries nervous that a too abrupt transition to elected parliaments will lead to legislative bodies dominated by adherents of political Islam who will oppose economic and social reforms. It is significant that even in a country whose citizens enjoy virtually no political rights in the American sense, the United Arab Emirates, the citizens cherish their high degree of personal freedom, family privacy, economic opportunity, private property rights, legal protection from government abuse, access to free media and excellent public services, such as education and health care. Not surprising, in such countries the degree of upward pressure for democracy is minimal.

Kuwait is the traditional Arab state that has advanced the farthest toward constitutional monarchy. The press is vigorous and unafraid of controversy. The parliament is freely elected and jealously guards its power in relations with the ruling family. Indeed, the Kuwaiti Parliament opposed the ruling family by forcing gender segregation upon the University of Kuwait and opposed for many years the political emancipation of Kuwaiti women. Not surprisingly, some secular Kuwaitis express concerns about threats to their personal freedom from the freely elected institutions of government.

The examples of republican government in Muslim countries that have existed alongside gross abuse of human rights are numerous. The regimes in Iran, Iraq and Syria adopted the trappings of democracy while at the same time repressing their people. Americans would do well to avoid being mesmerized by the conduct of elections as being the most important indicator of the level of freedom in countries where we have at best a partial and inadequate understanding of the real social environment.

Moreover, there is a profound cultural disconnect between US and Arab attitudes based on differences of public psychology. As a people, Americans are endowed with energy, impatience and the basic confidence that all problems can be solved. Based on their past history, the Arabs are endowed with reflection, caution and fear of chaos. While we see reform and democracy as critical requirements for attacking radicalism and terrorism, our friends in the region see undue haste as a prescription for instability and the rise of radicalism.” How can we be so sure that the toppling of autocratic regimes in Muslim countries will lead to a better outcome than we saw when the Shah of Iran was overthrown in the Islamic Revolution on 1979? In the long term, that historic change may benefit both the Iranian people and the United States, but it is proving to be a very long term indeed.

Americans should raise our sights beyond the old tolerance for autocratic governments that temporarily serve US interests, but we should be realistic in how we define the process of democratization. The key building blocks for democracy are basic security, rule of law, and institutions of civil society. The United States can and should urge governments to move toward goals of greater inclusiveness in the political process, more transparent governance and better access by the citizenry to their governing institutions. If we are wise, we will show a clear example in our own society of the desirable direction of change. In our diplomacy, we should discreetly urge progress in similar directions but not presume to tell other countries how to calibrate the pace and tactics of political reform. We should also be modest about the limits of both our leverage and credibility as the agent of change in Muslim countries. We should acknowledge that durable political change in a given country is unlikely unless such reforms have an organic relationship with the historical experience and respects the traditional culture of the population at large.

I know little about the political experience of Libyans under the jamahiriyya system of peoples’ congresses. Something of this nature has worked well in the United States at the level of small local communities in New England where town meetings control the conduct of affairs. I remain skeptical that this can be translated into a national political structure that provides practical governance for the welfare of the people and their common defense, while at the same time protecting the human rights of individuals. Libyans at this conference may be able to convince me that my skepticism is misplaced, but they owe it to themselves to be open minded about what will actually serve the individual human rights and collective interests of the Libyan people.

Let me offer one simple example, hoping that it will encourage Libyan participants at this conference to engage in constructive criticism of their own government for failures in meeting the needs of the Libyan people. It is one thing to engage in a theoretical defense of the principles of a direct, participatory democracy. It is far more serious to practice such democracy in an effective manner.

The example I offer is the area of health care, something that affects every American and every Libyan. I have no hesitation today to join the many Americans who have criticized both President Bush and former President Clinton for their failure to deal with the inability of many Americans to afford adequate health care. Our form of democracy allows us to make very pointed public criticisms of our top leaders, as well as lesser government officials, along with engaging in the process of electoral democracy by voting for or against candidates for both President and for Congress. The truth is, as many Libyans know, that the health care system in your country is a scandal. Libyans who can afford to do so prefer to travel to Egypt or Tunisian for basic medical services, while large numbers of Libyan doctors and other medical personnel practice medicine in European countries rather than return to their homeland. A test of the jamahiriyya system would be whether it gives Libyans an effective way of making not only government officials but the Leader of the Revolution himself accountable for this sad state of affairs.