A specter of decentralization is haunting the Middle East. In terms of significance, the comparison between current proposals for decentralization in several countries and the ceiling of the early labor movement’s program in the Communist Manifesto by Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels (1848)—which began with the phrase “A spectre is haunting Europe—the spectre of communism”—does not seem proportional.
Decentralization appears much lower than Communism in terms of transformative power when shifting from one governing ideology to another. Decentralization is not a revolutionary theory aimed at overthrowing entire social classes and installing the working class, as in Communism. The magnitude of change required by the labor movement’s struggle during the European Spring revolutions of 1848 was so immense—socially and economically—that “this ghost was soon exorcised in the same year,” as British historian Eric Hobsbawm (1917–2012) put it, before the specter returned in other forms to influence the course of modern history across multiple continents. Although decentralization, in its confrontation with centralism, is a political and economic dispute that supposedly does not require the price of a communist revolution, the flattening of political thought in the Middle East and the reactionary nature of the centralist “historical ideal” make decentralization a political and social revolution par excellence. It is a revolution supported by armies parallel to the central state, as is the case in Syria, Yemen, Libya, Sudan, Somalia, and Iraq.
Arguments have recently circulated among diplomats, writers, and thinkers suggesting that the current international phase in the Middle East and elsewhere is one of rebuilding the central state, and that there is no longer room for parallel armies within the state. On this basis, they have attempted to paint a picture suggesting that every battle against the legitimate central state is a losing battle, and that surrender to the state is the safest solution for entities seeking decentralization or secession. However, if we look at the reality around us, we find that the Middle East is a conflict between centralism—the so-called “national state”—and local entities, cultures, and nationalities seeking to modify the form of government. What we see today is the central state suffering severe blows: in Yemen with the Southern secessionist drive; in Sudan with the battles and civil war between the Sudanese army and the Rapid Support Forces; and in Libya with the endless conflict between its east and west. There is also Israel’s recognition of Somaliland as an independent republic amidst official Arab condemnation, not to mention a Syria divided into three entities (the SDF, the Druze, and Damascus), with the Alawites perhaps also joining the demand for a decentralized entity. What we see is that the central state still proposes “Umayyad” narratives that would only have been fit for the Umayyads to rule for a period no longer than a single man’s lifespan.
Currently, five regional countries are witnessing wars or complex civil crises (Syria, Yemen, Somalia, Sudan, and Libya). There are several common factors in the crises of these five states:
- The conflict between centralism and decentralization.
- Many regional countries strongly support the central state.
- Fewer regional countries support the demands of political entities calling for decentralization or secession.
- Political Islam, in its various forms—the Brotherhood and Salafism—and at the bottom of political Islam’s currents.
Successive regimes have governed these countries with a single methodology: managing a failed state at all levels except for the building of security apparatuses. Societies in these countries are crushed in all conditions of dignified life. Therefore, sectors of these societies are injected with lethal propositions, deluded through organized and studied media campaigns into believing they “own” the state and must protect it from dangers. Consequently, “panics” and genocides break out, organized by channels that know exactly what they are doing—deepening the civil war mentality and establishing the basis for massacres until this new state, optimistic for prosperity, sinks to the bottom of governance models in the region. This allows the old guard to maintain its popular capital as the “fittest option,” promoting the idea that democracy and respect for pluralism are paths to chaos. The best way to destroy the hope for change is to empower a specific group in government and support the narrative of the “criminal state,” which commits crimes against its people for the sake of the “unity of the criminal state.” Therefore, whoever prevents Syria—whether out of intelligence, miscalculation, or ignorance—from building a decentralized national consensus system of government (when centralism is the core of the problem) hates its resurgence. The envoy who launched the slogan “One state, one flag, one army” defended his hatred for Syria, rather than offering support for Ahmad al-Sharaa and his supporters. These current wars in the five countries, and more, are not limited to a fear of democracy; they are much lower than that: a hatred for the “state of collective agreement”—that is, a hatred for a state without massacres and genocidal propositions.
The region of the Arabian South, or what was called “South Yemen,” is struggling against a centralized factional hegemony characterized by severe discrimination in development and administration within a state that has failed in both its center and its peripheries. Somalia is the model of a failed state—the most failed among all examples used in studies, research, and interviews for 40 years. It is a state where terrorism is rampant, besieging the Mogadishu government, whose greatest power today is granting military bases to foreign powers on its territory. Nevertheless, marginalized Somali regions that have demanded decentralization for more than 30 years are being besieged. When all options failed, Somaliland declared unilateral independence in 1991. Paradoxically, both Somaliland and South Yemen are former British colonies; Somaliland’s current borders are the British colonial borders, while the Mogadishu government today is Italian Somalia. The two regions united in 1960 to form the Somali Republic. What happened later is that the people of Somaliland paid a heavy price; tens of thousands of them were killed during successive failed governments in the central state in Mogadishu, until the collapse occurred in 1991 with the fall of General Siad Barre’s regime. Somaliland withdrew from the chaos of the center and the failed state. It has not been given the opportunity to build a system of government since then, yet it distanced itself from the chaos of terrorism and the military in the Mogadishu government. With Israel’s recognition of Somaliland a few weeks ago, Somaliland has taken a first step toward restoring its political entity that existed before the unionist illusions promoted by national liberation ideologies.
It is noticeable that in all these countries, the movements calling for the rationalization of central rule and granting regions real decentralized powers do not, in any case, include representatives of political Islam. Extreme centralism—which means crushing all local government representation—is the ideology of this movement. The regional states that support extreme centralist propositions in countries witnessing civil wars are motivated either by a political misreading or a deep hatred for the possibility of national consensus in these states. Thus, pushing and supporting the central state serves as a guarantee that the turbulent state remains outside of regional effectiveness, staying an arena for chaos and lack of progress, thereby ensuring that the experiences of the backers are not questioned by their own people. Conversely, this does not mean that decentralization is a successful recipe without trial; there are successful federal decentralizations, and there are models that are a reflection of state disintegration and an expression of civil war.
Regrettably, centralists cannot be proven or convinced of the invalidity of their governance model except through defeat or military deterrence. The cost of this deterrence is very high, representing a new chapter of civil wars in a more violent phase, as ignorant propositions enter, bestowing sanctity upon a state whose age does not exceed several decades and which has no historical existence except as dependencies of sprawling empires, where these entities were either in the form of a Sanjak, a Mutasarrifate, or a Wilayah at their best.
In the Middle East today, the central state has inherited the tools of the twentieth century: the army, the security apparatuses, and the rigid national narrative. With its declining effectiveness in managing diversity, the economy, and legitimacy, the “specter” of decentralization and local governance appears as a sign that the tools of control are no longer sufficient. Efforts aimed at implementing decentralized governance patterns in the region, despite the promises they hold for societies exhausted by long years of dictatorship and wars, will necessarily be complex, heterogeneous, and subject to regression, as well as external manipulation.
When the U.S. Special Envoy to Syria, Tom Barack, said that “federalism does not work” in Syria and Iraq, he was reaffirming a pattern of international thinking that dates back a century—a pattern that has repeatedly failed to bring peace, stability, or justice to the region. His statement, which specifically criticized the Syrian Democratic Forces (SDF) on the grounds of their slowness in negotiating with the new regime in Damascus, contained an implication that decentralized rule constitutes an obstacle to conflict resolution. The leadership of our “new centralism” was quick to capture the content of this discourse to initiate a bloody attack on the Druze in Suwayda, while threatening the Kurds as the next target.
It was not federalism that destabilized Iraq, as Barack suggested; rather, it was the counter-attack on the federalist model that brought Iraq to its knees as a result of years of terrorism converging on its soil and the creation of a “terrorist container” for the fearful. Jihadist ideology did not succeed in ruling Iraq, but it established structural ruin in the country to the point that the victors themselves became a machine for destruction and corruption. Consequently, it is not that federalism does not work; rather, the counter-attack on federalism is what killed the Iraqi experience, which remains better than its surroundings in terms of the powers of the peripheries and the center.
Centralized states in the Middle East have not led to unity or stability. Instead, they have sown division, created power vacuums, and ignited cycles of violence whose effects have extended beyond borders. By concentrating power in the hands of narrow elites, these regimes produced “push factors” that caused massive waves of migration and displacement. At the same time, autocratic structures contributed to creating fertile environments for extremism and terrorism. The cumulative effects of these dynamics reveal the depth of the risks associated with these political systems. Assuming that reviving or continuing the same autocratic centralist model might lead to different results ignores decades of evidence proving the opposite.
Despite the flaws of federalism and decentralization, they have proven effective as frameworks for governing diverse societies. The United States has maintained a federal system for more than 250 years and has succeeded in balancing unity with regional autonomy, despite deep political and cultural divisions. In the Middle East, the model of the United Arab Emirates provides an example of how a quasi-confederal structure can preserve local authority while achieving national cohesion and economic growth. The region needs a new political structure that recognizes its ethnic, linguistic, and religious diversity, instead of the rigid state models inherited from colonial cartographers in the early twentieth century. Federalism, or any other form of devolution of power, if designed according to realities on the ground, may represent a path toward peace, representation, and accountability.
While decentralization provides a viable framework for rebuilding multi-ethnic states in post-conflict stages—by expanding participation, strengthening local resilience, and mitigating autocratic structures in preparation for more inclusive governance—these gains are not guaranteed. Without safeguards, central authorities, external powers, armed actors, and entrenched elites can quickly undermine local progress and re-centralize power.
What distinguishes the Syrian case is that the conflict has not been resolved militarily or politically. The central state still exists in form, but it is unable to reproduce the previous governance model, nor to impose a viable new one. Conversely, local entities do not necessarily possess an independent state project, but they possess enough local strength and legitimacy to prevent the center’s return to its old formula. This negative balance explains the continued division and makes any talk of rebuilding the central state theoretical unless accompanied by a radical redefinition of the nature of the state itself. Therefore, returning to the example of the specter of Communism in 1848 and the specter of decentralization in 2026, the integration of the Syrian Democratic Forces (SDF) into the “Syrian state” would mean changing the mindset of the Syrian state, not dismantling the proponent of the strongest decentralized proposition in the Middle East.
The conflict in Syria does not revolve around territorial unity, as promoted by non-Islamists who have joined the ranks of the Islamists; rather, it revolves around the form and content of a single, inclusive Syria. This does not mean that “the unity of Syria” is the ideology of the decentralists—especially if this unity is of the type imposed by Al-Hajjaj ibn Yusuf. In fact, this is the model preferred by several parties who do not want to see a Syria that extends into history and moves toward the future.
