The Sochi Triple Alliance and Conflicting Visions

A Syrian woman walks past damaged buildings in Douma, in the eastern Damascus suburb of Ghouta, Syria November 15, 2017. REUTERS/Bassam Khabieh
A Syrian woman walks past damaged buildings in Douma, in the eastern Damascus suburb of Ghouta, Syria November 15, 2017. REUTERS/Bassam Khabieh
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The Sochi Triple Alliance and Conflicting Visions

A Syrian woman walks past damaged buildings in Douma, in the eastern Damascus suburb of Ghouta, Syria November 15, 2017. REUTERS/Bassam Khabieh
A Syrian woman walks past damaged buildings in Douma, in the eastern Damascus suburb of Ghouta, Syria November 15, 2017. REUTERS/Bassam Khabieh

At the start of 2017 it seemed that Iran, Russia and Turkey were heading towards a period of hostility against a background of historical mutual suspicions and misgivings.

Still reeling from the shooting down in Syrian airspace of a Russian fighter jet, Russia and Turkey, traded accusations and insults.

Iran and Turkey were on opposite sides in the Syrian crisis and divided on the fate of Bashar al-Assad, Syria’s phantomatic President holed in Damascus.

Iran also had misgivings about Russia as Moscow delayed the delivery of weapons’ systems purchased and paid for by the Islamic Republic and imposed severe restrictions on Iran’s attempts at promoting its Khomeinist ideology in the Russian Federation.

However, towards the end of the year, a new picture was emerging with Iran, Russia and Turkey cast as members of a new triple alliance to shape the future of the Middle East in the wake of two decades of turmoil, terrorism and war. For the first time, the three nations held a summit in the seaside resorts of Sochi which the Iranian media, always keen on hyperbole, presented as “the new Yalta” after the conference in which the US, Britain and Russia decided the “future of the world” after World War II. More importantly, perhaps, a series of meetings brought the Top Brass of the three nations together for the first time to thrash out a joint strategy.

The upshot of all the comings-and-goings was that Iran, Russia and Turkey seemed to have agreed on a virtual carving of Syria into five “de-escalation zones” with each of them getting one zone and leaving the remaining two to the United States and its Kurdish allies Arab nations represented by Jordan.

There was also implicit agreement to Keep Assad in place in Damascus for a further 18 months during which the Russian plan would be implemented and solidified. Assad would be needed to sign legislations passed by his phantom parliament to bestow a legal veneer on the Russian “carve-out” scheme.

This was put clearly by General Muhammad-Ali Aziz-Jaafari, Commander of The Islamic Revolutionary Guards Corps (IRGC). “We expect President Assad to legalize the presence of popular forces”, meaning the Zaynabioun, Fatimyoun, Hezbollah and other militias created by Iran.

Moscow also needs Assad to push the agreement on leasing parts of the Syrian Mediterranean coast to Russia to set up or expand its aero-naval bases. As for Ankara, Assad is expected to sign a law that would permit Ankara to maintain troops on Syrian soil to separate that country’s Kurdish-majority provinces and take military action against Kurdish groups hostile to Turkey.

Ankara, Moscow and Tehran know that no future Syrian government would be able to ratify the kind of presence that Russia, Iran and Turkey seek in Syria. But once Assad has performed his finals service he would be discarded with few qualms by his protectors.

Ankara, Moscow and Tehran have other reasons to seek a quick end, or at least fudging-up, of the Syrian imbroglio.

Turkish President Recep Tayyib Erdogan is facing a problematic presidential election next year under a new constitution that replaces the parliamentary system with a presidential one concentrating powers in the hands of whoever becomes president. A candidate himself, Erdogan is almost certain of winning. But the question is by what percentage. A feeble turnout and a slim majority would not give him the moral mandate and political authority to embark upon his “grand design” of which we shall speak later. Erdogan needs to win “something big” and for the time being the only chance is to get a bite at the Syrian apple.

Russian President Vladimir Putin is also facing presidential election, perhaps his last, next year. He, too, is almost certain to win. But he is also concerned about the shape and size of his victory. He does not wish to end his 30-year career as a master of Russia’s destiny with the lowest backing from the electorate. With Russian economy in doldrums and the Western powers unwilling to grant Russia equal status as a major power, Putin needs a big victory which today can only come through a clever fudge-up in Syria coupled with grandiose talk of having "defeated Islamist terrorism” on the battlefield.

Putin is also concerned about rumblings among Russian Muslims, some 27 percent of the population according to most accounts. Images of the Russian air force carpet bombing cities, populated by “fellow-Muslims”, have stirred quite a bit of unease throughout the federation’s Muslim communities.

By claiming that he has two major Muslim nations, Turkey representing the Sunnis and Iran speaking for the Shiites, on his side, Putin can reassure Russian Muslims who have always voted for him in a massive way.

Iran has its own reasons to wish an arrangement on Syria.

Presented on 10 December, President Hassan Rouhani’s new budget shows that the Iranian economy faces at least another year of slow growth combined with a record deficit and a double-digit inflation.

Syria is proving too costly a “muta’a” (concubine) to maintain forever, especially since Iran also has other militia “muta’as” to maintain in Lebanon, Palestine, Yemen, Iraq and elsewhere.

At a time that the Islamic Republic cannot pay its own employees’ salaries regularly, spending vast sums on “exporting revaluation” is being criticized even within the usually docile Islamic Majlis. The 12 percent rise in the military budget means tightening the screws in other areas with the risk of rising popular discontent. So, Tehran leadership is also talking of “total victory in Syria” in the hope of reducing is footprint and financial burden there. And that requires Russian military clout and financial contribution.

Tehran also needs Turkey not only to divide the anti-Assad camp in Syria but also to weaken NATO in its eastern wing while jettisoning the Iraqi Kurds, and allowing Iran to consolidate its gains in Iraq.
At a tactical level, the “triple alliance” makes sense.

Russia, Turkey and Iran are all under pressure from the Western powers, for different reasons, and look for ways to break out of the cobweb of isolation they have woven around themselves with aggressive moves on Crimea and Ukraine on the part of Russia, and Iran’s agitations in several Arab countries not to mention Turkey’s sharpening anti-West rhetoric.

It is a strategic level that the “triple alliance” may seem more problematic. Historically, Iran, Russia and Turkey have more often been rivals and enemies than friends and allies. Between the 18th and 20th centuries Russia and Iran were involved in no fewer than six major wars. Russian forces invaded and occupied parts of Iran during both world wars. In the late 1940s, Russia tried to carve major provinces of Iran into satellite Soviet-style republics. During the 18th to 20th century, Russia and Turkey fought eight major wars and wee on opposite sides in the Frist World War. Over the decades the Tsarist Empire annexed more than 1.5 square kilometers of Iranian and Turkish territories, including the Crimea, snatched away from the Ottoman power, and Transcaucasia, taken away from Qajar Persia.

However, it is not history alone that undermines the prospects of the “triple alliance”.

The three powers are also divided on their respective visions of the future.

Putin has built his vision on the concept, some might say the geographic chimera’ of “Eurasia” according to which Russia is at the heart of a continent distinct from both Europe and Asia but representing the best of both, thus meriting the position of its leader. Although” Eurasia” is never fully defined it is assumed to represent large chunks of Central and Eastern Europe up to the Ural Mountains plus Central Asia and Siberia right to the Pacific Ocean. The southern flanks of Eurasia include Transcaucasia and Iran down to the Indian Ocean plus the Arab Levant.

The “Eurasian Grad Design” accords with the old myth of Russia and “The Third Rome”, with its “Manifest Destiny”. It rejects the idea, initially evoked by Peter the Great, to become truly civilized that Russia must be Westernized first. However, the idea appeals to Slavophils who dream of a pan-Slavic "world-space" led by Russia.

If Putin’s vision has a chimeric geographic expression, Erdogan’s comes in the pseudo-historic formula of “neo-Ottomanism” according to which the regions once ruled by the Ottomans can again come together in a new context of “free cooperation” to protect peace and pave the way for prosperity. These regions include North Africa, the Arab Levant, the Balkans, much of the Caucasus, the Caspian rim and the Altaic nations of Central Asia. In most of those areas, Turkey would find itself a rival, if not an adversary of Russia in the name of Islam and, when suitable, pan-Turkism. Russia can counter that in the name of pan-Slavism, where Slaves form a majority, the Russian language, prevalent in the Caucasus and Central Asia, and collective memories of Tsarist and Soviet “coexistence.”

In much of the same area Turkey, claiming leadership of Sunni Muslims will be in direct competition with Iran under its present Khomeinist regime which claims to have discovered the only true version of Islam. Even then, Turkey may have problems with its own Shi’ite minority while its Hanafi brand of Sunnism may not attract others, especially in Egypt, who are Shafeis or Hanbalis.

Playing the religious card would be even harder with the numerous sects that together form the mosaic that is the Arab Levant not to mention Christians in the Balkans and parts of the Caucasus.
While Russia uses a geographic concept and Turkey goes for a historic one, Iran, under its current regime has opted for a pseudo-theological chimera marketed under the brand of “Pure Muhammadan Islam” of which Walayat al-Faqih, rule by a theologian, is the central dogma. History shows that while religious ideas can bring people together the unity they create is always short-lived. Political projects, however, can create more durable entities such as empire or the nation-state. In other words, religion, which cannot admit divergence, almost always ends up dividing people while politics is capable of uniting them if only because it allows some scope for compromise.

Four decades after the mullahs seized power in Tehran there is no evidence that their brand of Islam is making many new recruits in the region they wish to dominate.

However the main problem all three visions, Russian, Turkish and Iranian, face is that none of them enjoys the cultural attraction or the economic resources without which empire buildings are little more than a tempting, but dangerous, fantasy. Why would anyone in Eurasia, the Middle East, the Balkans or anywhere else targeted by the three visions want to be ruled from Ankara, Moscow or Tehran?

The three visions are based on the assumption that the nations living in the regions targeted are looking for outsiders as leaders and that, with the United States abdicating its global leadership and the European Union bogged down in its byzantine problems medium-size powers such as Russia, Turkey and Iran can make put in their bid. However, this assumes that the targeted people, for example, the Arabs or the Central Asians, will always remain weak and divided and unable to develop visions of their own. Such calculations underestimate the resources and the determination of even the smallest and weakest nations to trace their own paths.

As 2017 draws to a close, the three would-be empire builders, Iran, Russia and Turkey, appear to be as thick as thieves. But the real concern is that they may come to blow before the end of the year. They covet the same space and seek the mantle of leadership for themselves. They have no common culture and history of cooperation and alliance. Worse still, they are trying to use 19th-century methods to deal with 21st-century dangers and opportunities. History often repeats itself as caricature. Thus the Sochi summit was a caricature of Yalta, not say of Berlin of 1885 in which the European Powers divided the world among themselves.



10 Years after Europe's Migration Crisis, the Fallout Reverberates in Greece and Beyond

File photo: Migrants of African origin trying to flee to Europe are crammed on board of a small boat, as Tunisian coast guards prepare to transfer them onto their vessel, at sea between Tunisia and Italy, on August 10, 2023. (Photo by FETHI BELAID / AFP)
File photo: Migrants of African origin trying to flee to Europe are crammed on board of a small boat, as Tunisian coast guards prepare to transfer them onto their vessel, at sea between Tunisia and Italy, on August 10, 2023. (Photo by FETHI BELAID / AFP)
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10 Years after Europe's Migration Crisis, the Fallout Reverberates in Greece and Beyond

File photo: Migrants of African origin trying to flee to Europe are crammed on board of a small boat, as Tunisian coast guards prepare to transfer them onto their vessel, at sea between Tunisia and Italy, on August 10, 2023. (Photo by FETHI BELAID / AFP)
File photo: Migrants of African origin trying to flee to Europe are crammed on board of a small boat, as Tunisian coast guards prepare to transfer them onto their vessel, at sea between Tunisia and Italy, on August 10, 2023. (Photo by FETHI BELAID / AFP)

Fleeing Iran with her husband and toddler, Amena Namjoyan reached a rocky beach of this eastern Greek island along with hundreds of thousands of others. For months, their arrival overwhelmed Lesbos. Boats fell apart, fishermen dove to save people from drowning, and local grandmothers bottle-fed newly arrived babies.

Namjoyan spent months in an overcrowded camp. She learned Greek. She struggled with illness and depression as her marriage collapsed. She tried to make a fresh start in Germany but eventually returned to Lesbos, the island that first embraced her. Today, she works at a restaurant, preparing Iranian dishes that locals devour, even if they struggle to pronounce the names. Her second child tells her, “‘I’m Greek.’”

“Greece is close to my culture, and I feel good here,” Namjoyan said. “I am proud of myself.”

In 2015, more than 1 million migrants and refugees arrived in Europe — the majority by sea, landing in Lesbos, where the north shore is just 10 kilometers (6 miles) from Türkiye. The influx of men, women and children fleeing war and poverty sparked a humanitarian crisis that shook the European Union to its core. A decade later, the fallout still reverberates on the island and beyond.

For many, Greece was a place of transit. They continued on to northern and western Europe. Many who applied for asylum were granted international protection; thousands became European citizens. Countless more were rejected, languishing for years in migrant camps or living in the streets. Some returned to their home countries. Others were kicked out of the European Union.

For Namjoyan, Lesbos is a welcoming place — many islanders share a refugee ancestry, and it helps that she speaks their language. But migration policy in Greece, like much of Europe, has shifted toward deterrence in the decade since the crisis. Far fewer people are arriving illegally. Officials and politicians have maintained that strong borders are needed. Critics say enforcement has gone too far and violates fundamental EU rights and values.

“Migration is now at the top of the political agenda, which it didn’t use to be before 2015,” said Camille Le Coz Director of the Migration Policy Institute Europe, noting changing EU alliances. “We are seeing a shift toward the right of the political spectrum.”

A humanitarian crisis turned into a political one

In 2015, boat after boat crowded with refugees crashed onto the doorstep of Elpiniki Laoumi, who runs a fish tavern across from a Lesbos beach. She fed them, gave them water, made meals for aid organizations.

“You would look at them and think of them as your own children," said Laoumi, whose tavern walls today are decorated with thank-you notes.

From 2015 to 2016, the peak of the migration crisis, more than 1 million people entered Europe through Greece alone. The immediate humanitarian crisis — to feed, shelter and care for so many people at once — grew into a long-term political one.

Greece was reeling from a crippling economic crisis. The influx added to anger against established political parties, fueling the rise of once-fringe populist forces.

EU nations fought over sharing responsibility for asylum seekers. The bloc’s unity cracked as some member states flatly refused to take migrants. Anti-migration voices calling for closed borders became louder.

Today, illegal migration is down across Europe While illegal migration to Greece has fluctuated, numbers are nowhere near 2015-16 figures, according to the International Organization for Migration. Smugglers adapted to heightened surveillance, shifting to more dangerous routes.

Overall, irregular EU border crossings decreased by nearly 40% last year and continue to fall, according to EU border and coast guard agency Frontex.

That hasn’t stopped politicians from focusing on — and sometimes fearmongering over — migration. This month, the Dutch government collapsed after a populist far-right lawmaker withdrew his party’s ministers over migration policy.

In Greece, the new far-right migration minister has threatened rejected asylum seekers with jail time.

A few miles from where Namjoyan now lives, in a forest of pine and olive trees, is a new EU-funded migrant center. It's one of the largest in Greece and can house up to 5,000 people.

Greek officials denied an Associated Press request to visit. Its opening is blocked, for now, by court challenges.

Some locals say the remote location seems deliberate — to keep migrants out of sight and out of mind.

“We don’t believe such massive facilities are needed here. And the location is the worst possible – deep inside a forest,” said Panagiotis Christofas, mayor of Lesbos’ capital, Mytilene. “We’re against it, and I believe that’s the prevailing sentiment in our community.”

A focus on border security

For most of Europe, migration efforts focus on border security and surveillance.

The European Commission this year greenlighted the creation of “return” hubs — a euphemism for deportation centers — for rejected asylum seekers. Italy has sent unwanted migrants to its centers in Albania, even as that faces legal challenges.

Governments have resumed building walls and boosting surveillance in ways unseen since the Cold War.

In 2015, Frontex was a small administrative office in Warsaw. Now, it's the EU's biggest agency, with 10,000 armed border guards, helicopters, drones and an annual budget of over 1 billion euros.

On other issues of migration — reception, asylum and integration, for example — EU nations are largely divided.

The legacy of Lesbos

Last year, EU nations approved a migration and asylum pact laying out common rules for the bloc's 27 countries on screening, asylum, detention and deportation of people trying to enter without authorization, among other things.

“The Lesbos crisis of 2015 was, in a way, the birth certificate of the European migration and asylum policy,” Margaritis Schinas, a former European Commission vice president and a chief pact architect, told AP.

He said that after years of fruitless negotiations, he's proud of the landmark compromise.

“We didn’t have a system,” Schinas said. “Europe’s gates had been crashed."

The deal, endorsed by the United Nations refugee agency, takes effect next year. Critics say it made concessions to hardliners. Human rights organizations say it will increase detention and erode the right to seek asylum.

Some organizations also criticize the “externalization” of EU border management — agreements with countries across the Mediterranean to aggressively patrol their coasts and hold migrants back in exchange for financial assistance.

The deals have expanded, from Türkiye to the Middle East and across Africa. Human rights groups say autocratic governments are pocketing billions and often subject the displaced to appalling conditions.

Lesbos still sees some migrants arrive Lesbos' 80,000 residents look back at the 2015 crisis with mixed feelings.

Fisherman Stratos Valamios saved some children. Others drowned just beyond his reach, their bodies still warm as he carried them to shore.

“What’s changed from back then to now, 10 years on? Nothing,” he said. “What I feel is anger — that such things can happen, that babies can drown.”

Those who died crossing to Lesbos are buried in two cemeteries, their graves marked as “unknown.”

Tiny shoes and empty juice boxes with faded Turkish labels can still be found on the northern coast. So can black doughnut-shaped inner tubes, given by smugglers as crude life preservers for children. At Moria, a refugee camp destroyed by fire in 2020, children’s drawings remain on gutted building walls.

Migrants still arrive, and sometimes die, on these shores. Lesbos began to adapt to a quieter, more measured flow of newcomers.

Efi Latsoudi, who runs a network helping migrants learn Greek and find jobs, hopes Lesbos’ tradition of helping outsiders in need will outlast national policies.

“The way things are developing, it’s not friendly for newcomers to integrate into Greek society,” Latsoudi said. "We need to do something. ... I believe there is hope.”