By acting as a trusted mediator, Egypt has indirectly contributed to a framework that tempers immediate threats and opens avenues for broader dialogue.

The Middle East has witnessed a rare demonstration of regional diplomacy at its finest. In September 2025, Egypt played a decisive role in facilitating an agreement between Iran and the International Atomic Energy Agency (IAEA) to resume inspections at Iranian nuclear sites. The deal, which drew attention from Europe, the United States, and Israel, underscores Egypt’s growing influence as a mediator capable of bridging deep-seated divides. Far from a symbolic gesture, this achievement signals that Egypt is not only present in regional affairs but can actively shape outcomes that impact security, diplomacy, and strategic stability across the Middle East.

A Regional Role Reasserted

On September 9, 2025, Egypt cemented its status as a central player in Middle Eastern diplomacy. In Cairo, an agreement between Iran and the International Atomic Energy Agency (IAEA) was signed to resume nuclear inspections across Iranian facilities, a development that has drawn attention across Europe, the United States, and the Gulf. This historic accord was facilitated by Egypt, underscoring the country’s capacity to bring together historically antagonistic actors and act as a trusted mediator. Egyptian Foreign Minister Badr Abdelatty, Iranian Foreign Minister Abbas Araghchi, and IAEA Director General Rafael Grossi were present as the framework was formalized.

Egypt’s role in hosting and mediating the negotiations highlights not only its diplomatic acumen but also its strategic patience and vision. The Egyptian government, acting discreetly yet decisively, engaged the parties months before the public announcement, signalling that it has both the patience and the tools to operate effectively in complex, high-stakes international negotiations. By doing so, Cairo has demonstrated that it is more than a participant in regional diplomacy; it is a driver capable of shaping outcomes that affect the wider Middle East.

This achievement reinforces the notion that Egypt remains a heavyweight in the region. Despite shifts in regional alignments and the emergence of new actors, Egypt has preserved its influence and can exert it when it aligns strategic interests with practical diplomacy. The successful facilitation of the Iran-IAEA agreement is proof that Egypt is still capable of producing tremendous, tangible diplomatic results—achievements that rival those of global powers and demonstrate that the country can actively shape the regional agenda.

Egypt’s diplomacy goes beyond symbolism. By bridging the gap between Iran and the IAEA, Cairo has positioned itself as a credible broker whose influence extends to both regional and global issues. This sends a strong signal to the international community: Egypt is not just present; it is a state that can affect outcomes in critical matters of regional security, nuclear compliance, and multilateral cooperation. In doing so, Egypt has quietly but firmly reminded the Middle East and the world that its voice, strategy, and influence are indispensable.

The Iran-IAEA Agreement: Implications and the Art of Balance

The Iran-IAEA agreement represents a delicate diplomatic balancing act. At its core, it re-establishes the IAEA’s access to all Iranian nuclear sites, including those affected by recent military strikes, a vital step in reducing nuclear opacity and mistrust. Yet beyond the technical aspects, the deal carries broader implications for Europe, the United States, and Israel, all of whom have differing stakes in Iran’s nuclear trajectory.

For Europe, the agreement provides a framework to address longstanding concerns over Iran’s compliance with the 2015 nuclear deal. France, Germany, and the United Kingdom had previously pushed to “snap back” sanctions, citing non-compliance. The resumption of IAEA inspections, coupled with Egypt’s mediation, offers a credible mechanism to verify Iran’s nuclear activities. This, in turn, could provide European policymakers with confidence that diplomatic engagement can yield results, potentially reducing the risk of unilateral action or the reimposition of sanctions that might escalate tensions.

In the United States, the agreement is cautiously welcomed. Washington has long sought assurance that Iran’s nuclear program remains peaceful. While the U.S. is not a direct party to the Cairo negotiations, the agreement helps reinforce a framework for monitoring and verification. U.S. policymakers, aware of the fragile regional equilibrium, recognize that Egypt’s intervention provides a stabilizing influence. The successful facilitation of these talks signals that regional actors, when engaged constructively, can complement international efforts to manage proliferation risks.

Israel remains the most sceptical stakeholder, consistently voicing concerns about Iran’s nuclear ambitions. While the Cairo-brokered accord addresses some verification needs, Israel warns that inspections alone cannot prevent clandestine development of nuclear weapons. Nevertheless, even within Israeli circles, there is acknowledgment that Egypt’s role introduces a stabilizing influence in a region prone to escalation. By acting as a trusted mediator, Egypt has indirectly contributed to a framework that tempers immediate threats and opens avenues for broader dialogue.

The broader geopolitical lesson is clear: diplomacy led by capable regional actors can achieve results where global powers face stalemates. Egypt’s mediation shows that complex disputes, often mired in mistrust and historical grievances, can be approached with pragmatism, patience, and credibility. By leveraging its regional legitimacy and diplomatic network, Egypt has demonstrated that it is fully capable of navigating sensitive issues and delivering outcomes that serve both regional stability and international security objectives.

Conclusion: Egypt’s Enduring Influence and Regional Vision

The Iran-IAEA agreement marks not only a milestone in nuclear diplomacy but also a defining moment for Egypt’s regional role. The country has proven that it can execute extraordinary diplomatic achievements when it applies strategic focus and resources. Its facilitation of these talks has reshaped perceptions: Egypt is not only a historical heavyweight but also a modern power capable of influencing outcomes in high-stakes, multi-party negotiations.

Egypt’s involvement underscores a central truth of regional politics: presence alone is insufficient without capability. The Cairo-brokered agreement exemplifies that Egypt maintains both, with a diplomatic apparatus capable of achieving results that few other regional states can match. By actively engaging in complex negotiations, the Egyptian government has positioned the country as a stabilizing force, one capable of mitigating conflict, reducing tensions, and fostering cooperation among actors with divergent interests.

Moreover, Egypt’s success demonstrates the strategic dividends of an assertive yet measured approach to diplomacy. It has shown that even in a turbulent region, a state that balances credibility, patience, and leverage can achieve outsized influence. The IAEA-Iran agreement is a tangible reflection of this principle, one that reinforces Egypt’s capacity to shape regional dynamics and secure its place as a central actor in Middle Eastern politics.

Looking ahead, Egypt’s role in facilitating cooperation between Iran and the IAEA sets a template for future regional engagement. It illustrates that the country’s diplomatic apparatus is robust, adaptive, and capable of securing outcomes that promote stability, verify compliance, and build confidence across rival states. Egypt has demonstrated it can be both a mediator and a force multiplier for regional security, reinforcing its status as a pivotal power.

To conclude, the Cairo-brokered deal is more than a technical agreement; it is a symbol of Egypt’s enduring presence and strategic foresight. It affirms that the country can exercise significant influence over regional matters, balancing competing interests, and facilitating dialogue in ways that enhance security and stability. As the Middle East continues to navigate the complexities of nuclear proliferation, interstate rivalries, and shifting alliances, Egypt’s proven capacity to deliver substantial diplomatic achievements positions it as an indispensable player and a model for regional leadership. Egypt has made clear that it remains here, fully engaged, and capable of reshaping regional dynamics to serve stability, security, and cooperative diplomacy. The IAEA-Iran agreement is only the beginning; the country’s assertive, strategic presence promises to continue influencing the trajectory of the Middle East for years to come.

The rehabilitation of Jalal al-Din Mangburni and al-Mukhtar al-Thaqafi underscores the power of propaganda to convert villains

History is rarely a neutral record of past events. It is filtered and reshaped by political interests seeking legitimacy, mobilizing identity, or settling old grievances. In the Islamic world, this process is visible in the treatment of controversial figures whose legacies remain contested. Two telling examples are Jalal al-Din Mangburni (also rendered Mengübirni/Mangubirti), the last Khwarazmshah, and al-Mukhtar al-Thaqafi, the Kufan rebel who vowed to avenge Imam Husayn. Both men have been hailed as heroes by some and condemned by others. In our time, television drama has become a key vehicle for rehabilitating such figures. The Uzbek-Türkiye co-production about Jalal al-Din and the Iranian series Mokhtarnameh illustrate how selective storytelling can turn divisive actors into symbols of pride, unity, or sectarian triumph. 

Jalal al-Din Mangburni: The Last Khwarazmshah

Jalal al-Din (d. 1231) ruled during the Mongol onslaught across Central Asia and Iran. He is often portrayed as the heroic last defender of the Khwarazmian realm, with chronicles memorializing his desperate flight across the Indus after a defeat by Chinggis Khan—an episode that has become iconic in art and popular history. 

The fuller record is more complicated. After regrouping in Afghanistan and India, Jalal al-Din returned west and fought not only the Mongols but also multiple Muslim polities. Encyclopaedia Iranica notes his clashes “with the army of the resurgent Abbasid caliph al-Nasir,” his expulsion of the Atabeg of Azerbaijan from Tabriz in 1225, a devastating invasion of Georgia culminating in the sack of Tbilisi (1226), and prolonged fighting over Ahlat—then under Ayyubid control—followed by defeat at the hands of an Ayyubid–Seljuq coalition. These campaigns underscore that his quest for survival and sovereignty repeatedly came at the expense of neighboring Muslim (and Christian) territories. 

Modern screen retellings smooth these rough edges. The historical drama Mendirman Jaloliddin (also known as Bozkır Arslanı Celaleddin)—a collaboration between producers in Uzbekistan and Türkiye—centers on Jalal al-Din’s valor and leadership against the Mongols and premiered on Milliy TV in Tashkent in February 2021, with releases in Türkiye later that year. Its publicity and coverage emphasize a shared Turkic heritage and cross-border cooperation in production, which dovetails with contemporary cultural diplomacy across the Turkic world. 

The politics of emphasis and omission are evident: his ferocity toward fellow Muslims is downplayed, while his Turkic identity, battlefield courage, and anti-Mongol defiance are foregrounded. Framed this way, Jalal al-Din becomes a transnational emblem useful to present-day narratives of Turkic solidarity—an alignment of memory with current regional projects rather than a strictly balanced portrait of a thirteenth-century warlord. (That reframing is interpretive, but the production’s binational character and promotional language are matters of record.) 

Al-Mukhtar al-Thaqafi: Rebel, Avenger, and the Disputed Claims

Al-Mukhtar b. Abi ʿUbayd al-Thaqafi (d. 687) emerged after the tragedy of Karbala (680), organizing a revolt in Kufa and targeting those implicated in Husayn’s killing—most famously defeating and killing ʿUbayd Allah b. Ziyad. In Shiʿi memory (especially Twelver tradition), he is celebrated as the avenger of Husayn’s blood and a champion of the Ahl al-Bayt. 

Sunni-leaning chronicles portray him more darkly. A recurrent accusation in early sources is that al-Mukhtar trafficked in claims of supernormal sanction. Some reports allege that his circle propagated messages about angelic mediation (Gabriel) or that he styled himself the spokesman (wakīl) of Muḥammad b. al-Ḥanafiyya as al-Mahdī. These attributions are debated: the narrations vary in reliability, and Shiʿi scholarship has long contested both the authenticity and the interpretation of such claims, sometimes shifting the blame to associates like Abu ʿAmrah Kaysān for exaggerations. What is solidly attested across sources is al-Mukhtar’s mobilization in Kufa, his retributive campaign, and the violent end of his rule. 

In the contemporary media sphere, Iranian state television’s Mokhtarnameh (directed by Davud Mirbaqeri, aired around 2010–11) rehabilitates him as a righteous revolutionary whose mission is justice for Karbala. Press coverage and film databases identify its IRIB provenance and its explicit framing as the story of the uprising to “take revenge against the killers of Imam Husayn.” The dramatization prizes moral clarity and devotional affect over the historiographical disputes, inviting identification with a purified, heroic Mukhtar. 

Propaganda, Memory, and the Politics of Selection

These two cases show how modern propaganda (in a broad sense: state-aligned, identity-mobilizing storytelling) converts morally ambiguous figures into usable heroes. The mechanism is not fabrication so much as selection and framing:

Selection of episodes: Jalal al-Din’s daring at the Indus and victories like Parwan are highlighted; his ravaging of Muslim-ruled regions and failure to build coalitions get less airtime. Al-Mukhtar’s vengeance for Husayn is foregrounded; theological controversies are deflected or reinterpreted. 

Affective packaging: High-production dramas embed historical claims in emotionally compelling arcs—love, betrayal, sacrifice—which audiences absorb as “history” because the narratives feel truthful.

Alignment with present politics: The Uzbek–Türkiye co-production supports a shared Turkic cultural space; the Iranian series advances a Shiʿi memory-politics that sacralizes revenge for Karbala as justice. (Those alignments are widely recognized in coverage and scholarship about cultural diplomacy and sectarian memory.) 

The result is not only a reframed past but also a mobilized present. Jalal al-Din becomes a cipher for Turkic unity and resilience; al-Mukhtar becomes a shrine of televised piety and communal justice. Both identities are constructed through emphasis and omission that serve contemporary agendas more than historiographical balance.

To Sum

The rehabilitation of Jalal al-Din Mangburni and al-Mukhtar al-Thaqafi underscores the power of propaganda to convert villains—or, more precisely, morally entangled actors—into heroes when circumstances demand it. The corrective facts matter: Jalal al-Din fought Abbasid, Ayyubid, and other Muslim forces even as he resisted the Mongols; al-Mukhtar’s record includes both retributive justice for Karbala and contested claims reported (and disputed) in early sources. But in the arena of mass media, the selective story wins. 

Television drama’s reach ensures that these curated identities become common sense for millions, embedded in popular culture under the guise of entertainment. The lesson is not to banish drama from history but to insist on critical literacy: to distinguish between affective truth and archival truth, between usable pasts and complex pasts. Only then can societies resist the easy alchemy by which propaganda turns ambiguity into certainty—and contentious men into uncomplicated heroes.

The PMF bill’s withdrawal reflects the interplay between military realities, domestic politics, and international pressure.

The recent withdrawal of Iraq’s draft law to restructure the Popular Mobilization Forces (PMF) has illuminated a striking reality: Iran, once a formidable force in shaping Iraqi politics and regional militias, is showing signs of vulnerability. Intended to mirror the Iranian Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC) in power, autonomy, and influence, the bill sought to cement Tehran’s dominance in Iraq through its Shiite allies. Yet internal Iraqi divisions, Sunni and Kurdish resistance, and external pressures from the United States revealed the limits of Iran’s reach.

The episode follows closely on the heels of the 12-day war with Israel, which exposed strategic weaknesses in Tehran’s regional posture, making the PMF bill politically untenable.

A Proxy Plan Stalled: The PMF Bill’s Ambitions

The PMF draft law was designed to be transformative. Its provisions granted the organization sweeping powers: the ability to arm itself, train personnel independently, expand its logistical and construction enterprises, and establish its leadership with ministerial authority over military and administrative affairs. Essentially, it envisioned an Iraqi IRGC—an institution capable of shaping state security while consolidating Shiite political dominance.

The legislation included the creation of a PMF Academy, issuing degrees in military sciences, and a General Engineering and Contracting Company to manage infrastructure projects—replicating Iran’s Khatam al-Anbiya model. Senior commanders would enjoy ministerial rank, effectively superseding the Defense Minister in overseeing PMF operations. Provisions allowed senior fighters past normal retirement age to remain in command, while the term “mujahid” underscored an ideological, Tehran-aligned identity. This institutionalization would have given Iran a durable foothold in Iraq’s military and political systems, potentially reshaping regional dynamics in its favor.

Yet the bill faced insurmountable hurdles. Sunni and Kurdish blocs united in absolute opposition, seeing the legislation as a direct threat to national balance and sovereignty. Internal Shiite divisions further complicated matters: hardliners pushed aggressively for passage, moderates opposed it, and others took a cautious, wait-and-see approach, reflecting the uncertainty following the recent conflict with Israel. The 12-day war had exposed vulnerabilities in Iran’s military posture, casting doubt on Tehran’s ability to project power and coordinate its proxies effectively.

External pressures compounded these challenges. The United States vocally opposed the legislation, warning that it would strengthen Iran’s influence and undermine Iraq’s sovereignty. Congressional initiatives such as the “Iraq Liberation Act” threatened sanctions and curbs on trade and investment if the law passed. U.S. leverage, combined with Iran’s perceived military weakening after the Israeli confrontation, tipped the scales in favor of withdrawal. The episode demonstrates that even Tehran’s carefully orchestrated proxy strategies can be constrained by a combination of local resistance and external intervention.

Tehran on the Back Foot: Lessons from a Toothless Moment

The PMF bill’s withdrawal is a telling reflection of Iran’s declining influence in the region. The recent 12-day war with Israel highlighted both operational and strategic shortcomings, eroding confidence in Tehran’s ability to impose its agenda. Its proxies, previously thought reliable and dominant, proved vulnerable, and their political instruments—like the PMF draft—could no longer advance unchecked.

This moment underscores a broader regional recalibration. Iraq’s institutions, in resisting the PMF bill, have asserted national sovereignty and signaled that external attempts to institutionalize proxy dominance will face both internal and international pushback. Tehran’s silence during the withdrawal, despite having shaped the draft law, signals a tactical retreat rather than a strategic victory. The lesson is clear: Iran’s influence, while still significant, is increasingly subject to the realities of political contestation, military setbacks, and global scrutiny.

For Iraq, the episode offers both a caution and an opportunity. It demonstrates that coalition politics can check foreign-aligned ambitions, and it hints at the potential for a more balanced national security apparatus. For Tehran, it is a rare reminder that its regional maneuvers are not omnipotent: the 12-day war with Israel and the failure of the PMF bill illustrate the limitations of coercive influence, highlighting vulnerabilities in both perception and capability.

In sum, the PMF bill’s withdrawal reflects the interplay between military realities, domestic politics, and international pressure. It represents a moment in which Iran’s ambitions collided with structural constraints, exposing the diminishing returns of its assertive regional posture. The episode is less a permanent defeat than a stark reminder that Tehran’s influence is not immutable, and that under current circumstances, its power has limits—making it a rare instance of regional recalibration that reinforces Iraqi agency and highlights the strategic leverage of both domestic actors and international stakeholders.

These episodes are not just milestones in U.S.-Iran relations, but also touchstones for Cold War geopolitics across the Middle East and South Asia.

Roham Alvandi’s Nixon, Kissinger, and the Shah is a compelling, rigorously documented study that challenges prevailing Cold War narratives by reinterpreting the power dynamics at the heart of the U.S.-Iranian alliance in the 1970s.

Meticulously drawing on Persian-language sources, newly declassified U.S. archives, and Iranian records, Alvandi offers a portrait of Mohammad Reza Shah Pahlavi not as a passive client of American imperialism, but as an assertive regional actor who helped shape the course of U.S. foreign policy under President Richard Nixon and Secretary of State Henry Kissinger.

At its core, the book traces the evolution of Iran’s status from a Cold War client to a strategic partner. In the 1950s and 1960s, successive U.S. administrations — Eisenhower, Kennedy, and Johnson — had viewed Iran as a subordinate state within a Cold War patron-client model.

This view was rooted in the CIA-backed 1953 coup that ousted Prime Minister Mohammad Mossadegh and reinstalled the Shah. From that moment, the United States exercised tight control over Iran’s military ambitions and regional behavior, often treating the Shah as an expendable buffer rather than a respected peer.

But as Alvandi shows, this dynamic fundamentally shifted with Nixon’s rise to power. The Nixon Doctrine, born of the trauma of Vietnam and the British military withdrawal from the Persian Gulf, reimagined America’s Cold War strategy in the developing world. Rather than direct military intervention, the U.S. would rely on trusted regional powers to police their own neighborhoods.

For the Persian Gulf, Nixon selected Iran and Saudi Arabia as the “twin pillars” of regional stability. But under Nixon’s leadership — and thanks to a long-standing personal relationship forged during Nixon’s 1953 vice presidential visit to Tehran — the Shah managed to elevate Iran above its supposed twin, lobbying the White House to prioritize Tehran’s interests and ambitions over those of Riyadh.

Alvandi emphasizes that this shift was not merely strategic, but personal and political. Nixon and Kissinger saw the Shah as a fellow Cold Warrior, a modernizing autocrat who shared their geopolitical worldview and opposition to Soviet influence. This mutual trust led to unprecedented levels of U.S. arms sales and diplomatic support.

In Chapter 2, Alvandi charts how Iran’s transformation into a U.S. partner coincided with Nixon’s rejection of a balanced Gulf policy. Iran was no longer to be merely one pillar — it would be the paramount power in the Gulf, armed and backed with little restraint.

Perhaps the most fascinating part of the book is its focus on three key historical episodes that map the rise and fall of the Nixon-Kissinger-Pahlavi partnership. These episodes are not just milestones in U.S.-Iran relations, but also touchstones for Cold War geopolitics across the Middle East and South Asia.

The first of these episodes centers on the 1971 Indo-Pakistan War, during which the Nixon administration, in violation of U.S. law, illegally funneled American arms to Pakistan via Iran. This backchannel operation exemplifies the depth of trust Washington placed in the Shah, who acted not only as a regional policeman but also as a clandestine logistics partner.

At the same time, the Shah’s decision-making during the 1969 Shatt al-Arab crisis with Iraq — which nearly sparked war — illustrates how empowered he had become to act without U.S. oversight.

The second episode, detailed in Chapter 3, is the zenith of the U.S.-Iran partnership, particularly between 1972 and 1975, when the Shah, in cooperation with Israel and with tacit U.S. support, backed a Kurdish insurgency against the Ba’thist regime in Iraq. Alvandi offers the first comprehensive history of this CIA-supported covert operation, highlighting how the Shah used American involvement to weaken Iraq’s position while strengthening his own in Khuzestan and the Persian Gulf.

Eventually, when Iran reached a favorable border settlement with Baghdad in 1975, the Shah abandoned the Kurds, a decision made independently and presented to Kissinger as a fait accompli. Kissinger, though privately frustrated, had no choice but to accept the decision, knowing the importance of the Shah’s partnership to American regional strategy. The betrayal of the Kurds was a bitter consequence of realpolitik — but it was the Shah, not Washington, who orchestrated it.

The final episode tracks the gradual unraveling of the U.S.-Iran partnership following Nixon’s resignation and the rise of Gerald Ford. Chapter 4 focuses on the failure of nuclear cooperation negotiations between 1974 and 1976, a pivotal moment revealing a widening rift. The Shah had hoped the United States would help Iran achieve nuclear parity with the great powers, especially after the oil price shock of 1973 dramatically increased Iranian revenues.

However, without Nixon’s personal backing, the Shah found himself increasingly isolated in Washington. The Ford administration, under pressure from Congressional critics and skeptical bureaucrats, refused to treat the Shah as an equal partner, reviving the old pattern of conditional support. In turn, the Shah felt alienated and embittered.

Here, Alvandi introduces one of the book’s most memorable insights: the Shah’s own perception of how the United States viewed him. He is quoted as complaining that America treated him “like a concubine, not a wife” — a metaphor that captures both his resentment of conditionality and his desire for enduring respect and strategic intimacy.

Far from being a puppet, the Shah emerges as a proud and independent actor who used the superpower alliance for his own vision of Iran’s primacy, and grew increasingly frustrated when Washington failed to reciprocate his loyalty with equal respect.

In sum, Nixon, Kissinger, and the Shah is a major contribution to both Cold War history and Middle Eastern studies. It demolishes the simplistic narrative of Iran as a mere U.S. client state, instead presenting a layered analysis of a shifting, often fragile, strategic partnership.

Alvandi writes with scholarly precision and narrative clarity, blending detailed archival research with geopolitical insight. By placing the Shah at the center of Cold War diplomacy — not as an accessory but as an actor — he forces readers to rethink the balance of agency in international politics.

This is essential reading for anyone seeking to understand not just the roots of the 1979 revolution, but the long, troubled history of mistrust and misperception that continues to shape U.S.–Iranian relations today.

Mostapha Hassan Abdelwahab

The Muslim Brotherhood’s rule—unlike that of Khomeini—was short-lived. 

In early 1979, the Iranian revolution came out victorious and Shah Mohammad Reza Pahlavi was ousted. A new regime was installed in Iran, faced with domestic and outside challenges and obstacles. However, the new regime had a magical blueprint for survival: ideology and indoctrination.

These two bases have been present in the Iranian political arena—and manifested in the practices of the new regime’s state apparatuses—from day one. An Islamic constitution was approved, and all the opponents of the Islamists—leftists and clerics embracing quietism and opposed to Velayat-e Faqih—were brutally liquidated in more of inquisitions than normal, fair trials. 

In parallel, the Muslim Brotherhood remained an underground political organization at that time, gaining some room of freedom under late Egyptian president Anwar al-Sadat, whom the Iranian revolution deemed a foe for hosting the shah at his last days before death. Years passed by. Sadat was assassinated and late president Hosni Mubarak succeeded him.

After a three-decade rule, he was ousted following a massive uprising whose spark started on January 25, 2011. The revolution brought change—and the Muslim Brotherhood. But the latter didn’t survive in office a single day after year one. Mohammed Morsi, who was picked by the group to run in the 2012 presidential election, was ousted in a military takeover. Thus, the Muslim Brotherhood’s rule—unlike that of Khomeini—was short-lived. 

Here a question arises: Why did the Iranian revolution succeed in ruling the country for over four decades while the Muslim Brotherhood has failed miserably after just one year in office. Answers for this question, of course, abound. However, a few answers cite ideology as a reason—instead citing the Brotherhood’s political naiveness, the desire to build a clerical dictatorship, failure to build consensus with the opposition, among others. 

But ideology is the chief reason why the Muslim Brotherhood has failed to rule Egypt. The organization, founded in late 1920s by Egyptian teacher Hassan al-Banna, doesn’t possess a solid ideological ground upon which it could build a viable political project. Commentators always argue that the Muslim Brotherhood is organizationally strong—but ideologically weak. But this line of argument has long remained embedded and it’s time to shed some light on it. 

Another question arises about the Iranian ideology—purportedly the cause of the Iranian regime’s success in holding on to power for four decades despite the convulsions it has been experiencing, chiefly the war with Iraq (1980-1988) and the subsequent waves of sanctions due to the country’s nuclear program and support for terror in the Middle East and beyond. The Iranian regime’s ideology is established on the so-called Velayat-e Faqih theory. It’s the political theory coined by the revolution’s firebrand leader and the Islamic republic’s founder Ruhollah Khomeini. 

In the years leading up to Iran’s 1979 Islamic Revolution, Khomeini formulated his theory of Islamic governance while living in exile in Iraq. This theory aimed to give the Shiite ulema, or clergy, political control over the Iranian state.

The Islamic Republic of Iran was built on the original theory in this book. Shiite post-Age-of-Occultation ideology that claims that Islam grants a faqih (Islamic jurist) custodianship over people is known as the Guardianship of the Islamic Jurist, also known as the Governance of the Jurist. Ulama who endorse the doctrine vary on the scope of custodianship.

According to one interpretation, guardianship should only be granted for non-litigious issues (al-omour al-hesbiah), such as religious endowments (Waqf), legal issues, and property for which no one specific individual is responsible.

There’s also the Absolute Guardianship of the Islamic Jurist. It maintains that Guardianship should include all issues for which Prophet of Islam and Shi’a Imam have responsibility, including governance of the country. The idea of guardianship as rule was advanced by the Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini in a series of lectures in 1970 and now forms the basis of the Constitution of the Islamic Republic of Iran.

The constitution of Iran calls for a faqih, or Vali-ye faqih (Guardian Jurist), to serve as the Supreme Leader of the government. In the context of Iran, Guardianship of the Islamic Jurist is often referred to as “rule by the jurisprudent”, or “rule of the Islamic jurist”.

But what about the Muslim Brotherhood? What is the political theory upon which they have been basing their decades-old activism? The Muslim Brotherhood has a core ideology, which is creating an Islamic state, an objective that the organization knows under the rubric ‘Mastership of the World’. However, it seems the organization doesn’t have purpose-built manifestos or books explaining the group’s political theory.

There’s a book titled ‘Messages of the Imam’ authored by Hassan al-Banna. But its topics vary, focusing instead on religious, didactic and jurisprudential matters rather than putting an emphasis on the political theory that lays the foundation for the group’s ideology. 

This poor ideological theorization has created problems for the organization, leading to divisions and secessions at the times of political crises—which the group is accustomed to calling ‘trials’.

The Muslim Brotherhood has been suffering back-to-back setbacks, beginning with the assassination of the group’s founder in 1949 and the major crackdown the group experienced under Nasser. Ironically, the group is known for ‘incessant trials’ as well as ‘always making the same mistake foolishly twice’. 

These failures, setbacks and losses have a common denominator: Ideological weakness. In fact, the Muslim Brotherhood is organizationally strong, with hundreds of thousands of followers operating within its ranks—not to mention the sympathizers.

The organization also has a strong and rigorous hierarchy. But all this monolithic structure gets easily demolished in times of crises due to the lack of a solid ideological ground on which the group could base its political project. 

An additional manifestation of this ideological weakness is the leadership crisis the Muslim Brotherhood is going through. As it’s known, the era of a single, cohesive Muslim Brotherhood is over. There are two groups (Two Muslim Brotherhoods’), with each claiming to be the sole legitimate body representing the organization’s members.

If there’s a clear, solid ideology that governs the group, there would be no such division. The group lacks ideology, and the leadership that could employ such an ideology. And this is why the group has failed to retain power in Egypt, and this is why the ayatollahs in Iran has been ruling the country since 1979. 

The bottom line: Strong and solid ideologies enable religious associations to build a sustainable political system, as is the case in Iran.

On the contrary, organization with a poor ideological underpinning fail to build such a long-term political system, suffering thunderous downfall as soon as this weakness is exposed, as seen in Egypt’s Muslim Brotherhood in the 2013 military takeover that followed massive protests demanding an end to the group’s rule.  

Erdoğan’s foreign policy has always been marked by extreme pragmatism. He shifts the country’s moves east and west based on the interest he could gain from such moves.

Turkey has all of a sudden nearly reversed its approach to Russia, announcing its support for Ukraine’s NATO bid as well as approving Sweden’s. The move has sent shockwaves throughout the European Union—which the Turkish president has long been criticizing for blocking Turkey’s accession bid—and Russia, which is locked in a cutthroat war with Ukraine, behind which the West is rallying in the face of Moscow. This Turkish shift raises questions about how the Turkish foreign policy—particularly with regard to Russia—will proceed in the coming period and what is the scope of Russia’s reaction—retaliation—following the Turkish move. 

The Turkish moves over the past week has been surprising—given the course in which the relations have been proceeding until very recently. Things have turned upside down—with Turkey abandoning Russia in favor of Europe and the West, with which it had a bitter rivalry and which it particularly accused of being the 2016 failed military coup. Turkish president Recep Tayyip Erdoğan has taken several steps—all unfavorable and disliked by Russia.

He (A) announced support for Ukraine’s NATO bid, (B) approved Sweden’s NATO membership—which until then appeared unlikely given Turkey’s strong protests and ferocious opposition to the move given what it calls Sweden’s permissions of attacks on Islam and Quran burnings as well as hosting members of the PKK organization, designated terrorist by Turkey, (C) President Erdoğan received Ukraine’s Volodymyr Zelensky and—moreover—handed him over the Azov Brigade commanders held in Turkey under an agreement with Russia. 

All these actions signify a shift in Turkey’s position towards Russia concerning the latter’s war on Ukraine. Turkey has always adopted neutrality, called for a peaceful settlement of the dispute and brokered deals between Russia and Ukraine—foremost of which is the Black Sea Grain Initiative according to which grain exports via three Ukrainian ports are permitted. 

Yet, the newly adopted Turkish position raises questions, given the improved ties between Russia and Turkey over the past few years, coordination on Syria and some ‘realignment of positions’ in the face of the West and down the path of ‘forming a multipolar new order’. 

History of the Russo-Turkish relations has been filled with ups and downs, ebbs and flows. The two nations—empires—have engaged in fierce wars as well as alliances. 

Interestingly, Russia and Turkey sprung up as independent powers almost concurrently – in 1380 and 1389. There followed an impressive rise for the Ottoman Empire, which expanded rapidly and had become a superpower by the 16th century. Since this simultaneous rise, the two have vacillated between hostility and uneasy friendship. 

The two nations had engaged in three wars in the 18^th century, resulting in Turkey—the Ottoman Empire—ceding territories to Russia, a small part of which was reclaimed at later stages. 

The first of these three wars (1735-9) arose from the War of Polish Succession (1733-8). France encouraged Turkey to support it in its fight against Russia and Austria. Russia declared war on Turkey in late 1735. The Treaty of Nissa, signed in October 1739, ended the war, with the Russians pleading for peace. The second war, the first Turkish war against Catherine the Great of Russia, was terminated in July 1774 by the Treaty of Kuchuk Kainarji. The Treaty of Jassy in January 1792 ended the third war, which was the second Turkish War against Catherine of Russia, with Russia relinquishing Moldavia and Bessarabia to Turkey but holding the lands east of the Dniester as well as Ochakov port.

In modern history—particularly after the Arab Spring uprisings which brought Russian military to the Turkish border as Moscow has been aiding Syria’s Bashar al-Assad crush the domestic uprisings—tensions between Ankara and Moscow soared, with Turkey protesting Russia’s annexation of Crimea in 2014 and shooting down a Russian SU-25 fighter jet in the following year. Strikingly, the economic relations between the two nations during this period continued to boom. 

Personal relations between Recep Tayyip Erdoğan and Vladimir Putin strengthened economic relationships. In 2003, an undersea gas pipeline was constructed, and by 2014, Russia had become Turkey’s largest importer. Tourism has also developed as an important link between the two nations, with Russia sending the most tourists to Turkey in 2013-14. This shows how economics and politics have taken different paths in the Russo-Turkish relations, with the former growing steadily regardless of the status of the latter and the ups and downs it experiences. 

There are various explanations for the shift in Turkey’s policy towards Russia. The Russian president’s press secretary, Dmitry Peskov, blamed the return of Ukrainian Azovstal officers on Kiev’s “failure of the counterattack” launched in early June to retake Russian-controlled territory in eastern and southern Ukraine. He additionally referred to Ankara’s desire to show “solidarity” with Kiev ahead of the NATO summit in Lithuania.

Other analysts believe that Turkey’s shift away from Russia and toward Europe resulted from the Russian weakness exposed by Wagner’s rebellion. After Wagner’s rebellion late last June, Turkey, paradoxically, expressed solidarity with Russian President Vladimir Putin. Perhaps it’s the same rebellion that ‘encouraged’ Erdoğan to take such a bold stance in favor of Ukraine and Sweden’s NATO bid, which he has long rejected, citing Stockholm’s permission to burn the holy Islamic book the Quran and its support for the PKK, which the Turkish state considers a terrorist organization and with whom it has been locked in fierce battles in the country’s southeastern region.

In a nutshell, Erdoğan’s foreign policy has always been marked by extreme pragmatism. He shifts the country’s moves east and west based on the interest he could gain from such moves. He leans towards strong allies to form unshakable fronts. But when those enemies become weak and unable to weather domestic storms, Erdoğan shies away from them, joining the ranks of those more powerful and gaining the upper hand—the US and NATO. Still, the way how Erdoğan will fix relations with Russian president Vladimir Putin if any major breakthroughs on the part of Russia occur remains to be seen. But there’s a tough venture head for Erdoğan. 

Many lessons could be drawn from the two nights in Istanbul and Moscow, with each night having its own implications on the domestic front in the two nations. 

On July 15, 2016, Turkish army officers attempted to stage a coup. The officers, backed by people in the army’s top brass, ordered the deployment of tankers and armored vehicles on the street. Some officers even headed to the state-run TRT’s headquarters, ordering a television host to read out ‘the coup declaration’. However, the coup’s plan fell apart, with Erdoğan emerging and delivering a speech that turned things upside down. By midnight, the pro-Erdoğan state apparatuses thwarted the coup, completing the mission in the second day—spelling the end of the most dangerous to Erdoğan’s rule. 

After nearly seven years, however, Russia lived through an extremely similar moment, with Wagner group attempting to stage a coup and threatening to march towards Moscow. Many lessons could be drawn from the two nights in Istanbul and Moscow, with each night having its own implications on the domestic front in the two nations. 

On June 23, 2023, Yevgeny Prigozhin, the head of Russia’s private military company Wagner, came out shaking Russia with vows and threats—even pledging to march towards Moscow. The Wagner attempted coup came at a delicate juncture through which the Russian war on Ukraine—raging since February 2022—is going. 

This rebellion—or attempted coup—took place amidst mounting disagreements between the Russian ministry of defense and Prigozhin. The reasons behind such a surprise move against the Russian military and government remain unknown, though Prigozhin cited some justifications for the rebellion. He said the Russian military bombed his forces. Yet the war on Ukraine was among the reasons he mentioned, saying that the minister of defense Sergei Shoigu is to blame for the Ukraine setbacks. In addition, the Wagner rebels took control of Rostov-on-Don and the Southern Military District, even starting to advance on Moscow.  A day later on, Russian president appeared, denouncing Wagner’s moves as treason and pledging to put down the rebellion. 

However, the Wagner head’s plan was cut short after negotiations with Belarusian president Alexander Lukashenko. Under the deal reached with the Russian government, Yevgeny Prigozhin agreed to stand down, ordering his forces to stop the march on Moscow. For its part, the Russian state withdrew all the charges brought against Yevgeny Prigozhin and his forces under Article 279 of the Russian criminal code. 

At this point, the Russian night came to an end—just like the Turkish night ended seven years ago. There are huge similarities and yet significant differences between the two nights. Just like the Russian rebellion, the Turkish ‘failed coup’ lasted for only one night. The attempted military takeover began with the army shutting down the streets in Ankara and Istanbul, with the commandos receiving orders to arrest president Recep Tayyip Erdoğan—in propria persona—a measure that would have been the apex of their steps.  

The Turkish commandos attacked the resort in which the Turkish president was vacationing in Marmaris south of the country. They were armed with machine guns and hand grenades. Two of the resort’s guards were killed on that night. But unfortunately, the Turkish officers came belatedly. After receiving a tip from an anonymous source, the president was transferred from the resort via helicopter. The president then boarded a private jet that headed for Istanbul, with the pilot camouflaging the plane’s identity so that the radars treat it as a civilian aircraft instead. At 3:00 AM, Erdoğan finally emerged outside the Ataturk Airport surrounded by his supporters, who chanted slogans commending the president. At this point, the coup had officially failed, with Turkey’s strongman emerging even stronger. 

The Wagner rebellion is said to have dealt a huge blow to Putin’s superficially powerful rule. After the news of the rebellion broke, Putin delivered a speech, accusing Wagner of treason. At the same time, Putin thanked the group for avoiding bloodshed, accusing the West of ‘sowing sedition between brothers.’ Thus, Putin appeared confused and perplexed, sending messages to those at home and abroad. 

On the night of the Turkish failed coup, Erdoğan survived the planned arrest. Moreover, he demanded a means through which he could deliver a speech to the people after being denied access to state-run media outlets. The president used FaceTime to speak to the Turkish people, a move that had a great impact on the whole course of events, finally tipping the scale in favor of the president.  “There is no power higher than the power of the people,” Erdoğan stated. “Let them do what they will at public squares and airports.”

As such, Erdoğan was responsive, firm and decisive. He addressed the Turkish people on the night of the attempted coup, denying them any chance to vacate the landscape for any other figures. Conversely, Putin waited for a full single day to address the Russians, with a low-key speech full of contradictions and conflicted remarks. 

Yet the post-coup measures in both nations drastically differed. In Turkey, the state launched a massive crackdown on the Gulen movement, a grass-roots movement whose head Fethullah Gulen is accused by Turkey of being behind the failed coup. Tens—and perhaps hundreds—of thousands are reported to have been detained over links with the group, a onetime Erdoğan ally. Several other measures were taken, whether politically or militarily. The country even changed its political system from a parliamentary to the presidential system following a referendum conducted three years later. Thus, the failed coup was an opportunity for Erdoğan to cement his rule and further his agenda.  

In Russia, the matter seems a little bit different. Like the Erdoğan-Gulen relationship, there has always been a Putin-Wagner link. But in the political corridors things always change, with enemies switching to become friends and vice versa. 

Another dimension in the Wagner rebellion is that it took place during wartime. Interestingly, nearly all the Russian coups occurred during wartime, including that of Wagner. In Turkey, meanwhile, coups used to take place during peacetime. Yet the Turkish putsch was of political reasons since the military has always used to intervene in case it deems the country’s secularist system under threat. The army’s moves were primarily directed at Erdoğan and his political project. On the contrary, Wagner’s rebellion was caused chiefly by military reasons. The private military firm was dissatisfied with the Russian army’s performance in the war in Ukraine. Yet, the group has bad blood with the Russian defense chief, since he allowed their positions in Syria to be bombed by denying that Russia had any troops in the area that was targeted. 

It’s noteworthy that it isn’t the first coup attempt that Russia witness during wartime. Russia’s communists staged their putsch in 1917, only one year before World War I came to an end. Russia was engaged in fierce battles against Germany, which prompted the Russian tsar to appoint the commander of the Russian navy in the Baltic as a defense minister. In 1920, Alexander Vasilyevich Kolchak, a Russian admiral and military commander, was deposed and executed by the Bolsheviks. He vociferously opposed the communist revolution which had broken out throughout the country. 

In a nutshell, Russia’s Wagner-led June 23 rebellion is very comparable to Turkey’s July 15, 2016 moment. That day could be dubbed Russia’s July 15 moment, the point at which Russia will likely never be the same as it was before—exactly as it was in Turkey. There has been an attempted coup—rebellion—that has swiftly been put down. There have been betrayals among military commanders. There’s a political system that has violently been shaken. It’s indeed a make-or-break moment. The changes that would grip Moscow will be significant, but whether they are in favor or against President Vladimir Putin remains to be seen. 

Mostapha Hassan Abdelwahab is the former editorial manager of the English edition of the Baghdad Post. He is focusing on Iraq, Iran and political Islam movements, with articles posted on the Herald Report, Vocal Europe, the Greater Middle East and other platforms.

Disclaimer: Views expressed by writers in this section are their own and do not reflect Milli Chronicle’s point-of-view. 

Mostapha Hassan Abdelwahab

Erdoğan’s goal is to establish a new legacy that will finally replace the century-old Kemalist legacy, which has crushed political Islam and forced it to operate underground

A century ago, the Ottoman Empire was dismantled. The glory had faded, the sultanate perished and the sultan gone. Everything in the sprawling empire was turned upside down. First of all, the empire no longer became an empire. It instead turned into a nation-state ruled by secular Kemalism, a philosophy laid down by the Turkish republic’s founding father Mustafa Kemal Atatürk. It’s the legacy upon which the new Turkish republic would be established for a century to come.

Throughout this period, Kemalism has ruled the country uncontested. Mustafa Kemal Ataturk was the Turks’ idol. The principles he laid out have continued to govern the country even posthumously. All those who dared to deviate from his line were severely punished. It has been the Kemalist legacy that ruled Turkey for nearly a century until President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan came to power in 2001.

Since then, he has been in charge of Turkey’s top job, whether as a prime minister or a president afterwards. Throughout his tenure, he has been slowly seeping through the state apparatuses, making slow-paced, nuanced and well-considered reforms aimed primarily to replace the Kemalist legacy with the Erdoğanist one.

Erdoğan has never said he is against Ataturk. Portraits of Ataturk are always put up at his public rallies and government offices. He has never embarked on a hard-power process of eliminating the Kemalist legacy. But instead, he pursued a gradualist approach coated in dissimulation (Taqiya) by alleging that Turkey is a secularist state toeing the line of Kemal Ataturk. At the same time, Erdoğan and his AKP team was working to erase this line, replacing it with Erdoğan’s.

Throughout his career, Erdoğan has experienced milestones and setbacks. He was fortunate. He reaped the benefits of the milestones: revoking the decision to ban hijab in public offices, expanding the building of religious schools, changing the state’s system of government from parliamentary to presidential, reopening Hagia Sophia as a mosque among others.

Erdoğan has always functioned not as a tyrannical strongman seeking to carve out his own position in Turkish modern history. Instead, Erdoğan’s goal is to establish a new legacy that will finally replace the century-old Kemalist legacy, which has crushed political Islam and forced it to operate underground.

For him, it’s a zero-sum game: either the Islamists continue to control and dominate the country, imposing their new legacy, or the Kemalist legacy survives, forcing Erdoğan and his comrades into hiding.

Therefore, Erdoğan has fought a ferocious battle that peaked in 2016 when some senior army commanders, purportedly in connection with the Gulen Movement, aka the Fethullahist Terrorist Organization (FETO), launched a failed coup d’etat. This coup was the apex. It’s either you or we. Erdoğan, on the other hand, has survived, launching a purge of the state apparatus to clear his authority of the ‘viruses’ purposely implanted to wipe away his rule overnight.

Erdoğan has devised a strategy to build this legacy. The longevity in office was the most important cornerstone of this plan. A ruler can do nothing unless he has long-term plans that he or his successors who share the same ideological line can put into action. As a result, Erdoğan has worked hard to ensure that his rule lasts as long as possible, modifying the country’s government structure to fill the role of president, but only after injecting it with the necessary legal powers—which were previously reserved for the prime minister under the now-dismantled parliamentary system.

From the very start of his political career, President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan has been taking aim at Ataturk—whether as a role model that he sought to emulate or as an opponent with a legacy that he sought to eliminate—as part of the above-mentioned two-faced approach.

For decades, Ataturk had been the Turks’ idol, and Erdoğan aspired to be the Turks’ new idol—at times by alleging that his project complements that of Ataturk and at others by declaring that his rule represents a resurrection of the Ottoman legacy that Ataturk had pulverized.

Among his both backers and rivals, Erdoğan is hailed as Turkey’s new sultan. Actually and ceremonially, he acts like a sultan. He receives world leaders with Ottoman-era honor guards.

Like his approach, Erdoğan’s legacy has also two faces. He is credited with the massive economic growth in Turkey as well as succeeding in getting the military out of politics after decades of strangling guardianship over the country’s politics.

Still, he is accused by critics at home and overseas of leaning heavily towards authoritarianism and repressing individual freedoms. According to Erdoğan’s rivals, the measures Erdoğan is taking—which are chiefly inspired by religious orientations—will see an increase whereas public freedoms will start to diminish. Some of Erdoğan’s opponents have even suggested that he wants to reinstate the caliphate though he doesn’t dare to announce this explicitly. Erdoğan, thus, has consolidated his power and changed the country’s system of government in order to sit himself on top of the Islamic world’s leaders—an objective that, among others, reverses Ataturk’s legacy.

Erdoğan’s allegations about following in the footsteps of the Turkish republic’s founder have remained unchanged. Meanwhile, however, he was working in full swing to profoundly transform the country he rules, taking it away from the Kemalist roots upon which it was established. Upon thwarting the military coup of July 15, 2016, Erdoğan took a major step towards setting up the system that best serves his interests. Within less than a year, Turkey saw a landmark referendum on changing the country’s system of government from the parliamentary to the presidential. Erdoğan was lucky. He won the referendum and finally got what he has long been seeking to achieve. This referendum, in which 51% of the voters favored the presidential system, put the country on the threshold of the second republic. The referendum has formally instituted a substantial change in the mode of governance that had prevailed in the first republic (Ataturk’s republic) a century ago.

Erdoğan has always been seeking to resurrect the sultanate that Ataturk had buried. He wants to be the country’s post-Ottoman—or neo-Ottoman—sultan. He wants to kill the legacy of Ataturk whose laws trampled on the sultanate and ushered in the new republic. Erdoğan’s two-faced approach— that depends on inwardly working to resurrect the old Turkish state while outwardly gushing praise upon the one who buried it—appears to be working. But now it’s the time to openly work to oust Ataturk’s legacy. The Turkish regime seems more consolidated, emboldened and entrenched. There’s no need for dissimulation.

If Erdoğan’s schemes proceed uninterrupted, we could witness ‘The Islamic Republic of Turkey’ sooner than we could ever expect. The bottom line: There are two conflicting legacies in Turkey as well as two faces of Erdoğan’s approach. And no one knows which legacy will finally prevail and which face will come out on the global stage and declare: Hey, this is the new Turkey.

Disclaimer: Views expressed by writers in this section are their own and do not reflect Milli Chronicle’s point-of-view. 

Mostapha Hassan Abdelwahab

If Iran is honest in its intentions toward Saudi Arabia, it would reevaluate its approach toward non-state actors and once-allied Islamist organizations like the Muslim Brotherhood, Hamas, Houthis and maybe Hezbollah.

The Middle East has recently been rocked with deep political shifts, with longtime arch-foes ending years-and even decades-long standoff. Egypt and Turkey agreed to mend relations and start procedures of exchanging ambassadors. Saudi Arabia and Iran have signed a historic rapprochement deal.

Ironically, Turkey and Iran are backers of the Muslim Brotherhood organization—though at varying degrees. Turkey has sacrificed diplomatic relations with Egypt in exchange for unflinching support for the Muslim Brotherhood over the last decade. For the same reason, Iran has always been at loggerheads with successive Egyptian governments.

However, Saudi Arabia and Egypt have been fighting the organization’s ideology for a while now, which has always put Riyadh on the opposing sides of alliances in which Turkey or Iran have been engaged.

The most urgent question now is: How far these rifts and internal cleavages will shape the Muslim Brotherhood’s future given the shifting alliances that put the organization—designated terrorist in Egypt and many major Middle Eastern nations—in an unfavorable position?

The Muslim Brotherhood has forged strong ties with likeminded organizations in the Islamic world—both Sunni and Shiite.

It has strong ties with all Islamist parties in Turkey—including those opposed to President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan such as Felicity Party—with the hope of one day establishing a globalist government in as many major Islamic countries as possible in what is called in the Muslim Brotherhood’s ideology as “Mastership of the World”, a principle whose foundations had been laid by the group’s founder Hassan al-Banna. 

The Brotherhood’s rise to power in 2012 in tightly contested elections—in which the Brotherhood’s candidate Mohammed Morsi narrowly defeated former army general Ahmed Shafik—was a godsend for Erdoğan and his government as well as Iran, whose government embraces an Islamist, globalist ideology deemed the Shiite variant of the Muslim Brotherhood’s ideology. 

The Muslim Brotherhood forged ties with Twelver Shiite Iran before the Sunni Turkey. This is because ‘Islamic’ governance was established in Iran approximately two and a half decades before Turkey. With the victory of the Khomeini-led Islamic revolution, many Muslim Brotherhood senior officials praised the revolution, seeing it as a ray of hope for their long-awaited Islamic project.

The late Muslim Brotherhood figure Kamal al-Hilbawi, who once served as the Muslim Brotherhood’s spokesman, was captured on television praising Iran, its supreme leader, and the Islamic revolutions. He had made numerous visits to the Shiite country.

When he was in power, late Egyptian President Mohamed Morsi made major efforts to “pursue a different strategy” to Iran than any previous Egyptian governments. He hosted former Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad in Cairo, sparking outrage among all of Morsi’s opponents, particularly the Salafis, who saw Twelver Shiism as their archenemy and the most serious threat the country has ever faced.

Notwithstanding their reservations about Morsi’s position on Syria, the Iranians hailed his election and saw him as a huge opportunity to infiltrate the Arab world. They have even provided advice on how the Muslim Brotherhood ‘protect the revolution’, advising them to establish their own version of Iran’s Revolutionary Guards. 

Likewise, Turkey’s Erdoğan was boosted by Morsi and the Brotherhood’s rise to power. But Erdoğan’s dream was short-lived. The Muslim Brotherhood’s government was unseated following mass protests that prompted the army to intervene to ‘prevent the country from sliding into chaos and civil strife’. Morsi was ousted, the Brotherhood has lost power and Erdoğan has missed out on the opportunity of having the most powerful Arab country on his side. 

The Muslim Brotherhood’s ouster was immensely shocking to Erdoğan. He initially refused to acknowledge that they had left. He was acting as though it was only a matter of time before they were restored to power. Nonetheless, the Brotherhood has lost strength and clout on the Egyptian street, with the organization’s social, political, and economic clout dwindling to historic lows.

He had embarked on launching scathing attacks on the Egyptian government and El-Sisi personally. After withdrawing Turkey’s ambassador from Egypt, Erdoğan remarked that “he will never respect people who gain power through armed means.” He supported the Brotherhood and its protests, transforming his country into a stronghold for the organization’s anti-regime activities. 

However, because political blunders have been the Muslim Brotherhood’s trademark for the past nine decades, they have failed to hold power. The Egyptian government has managed to nearly wipe out the organization’s clout and their popular incubators. This utter failure—albeit shocking and disappointing—has forced Erdoğan to fundamentally alter his stance and make overtures to the regime he once declared “he does not respect.” 

Not only has the Muslim Brotherhood failed to depose the Egyptian regime and return to power, but it has also lost Erdoğan’s trust. The group’s camp, led by former secretary general Mahmoud Hossein, was claimed to have made overtures to the Felicity Party, which is regarded the Turkish variant of Egypt’s Muslim Brotherhood and has long been at odds with Erdoğan and his AK Party.

Erdoğan was briefed on Felicity Party communications and was incensed by the Egyptian organization’s move. Erdoğan has decided to change alliances and forsake the Brotherhood. It seems that Erdoğan has realized that the Brotherhood has been attempting to stab him in the back. He deemed the move ungrateful and decided to make them pay the price, turning to their arch-foe El-Sisi. Thus, Cairo and Ankara decided to hold talks. The talks were slow and cautious, focusing chiefly on security matters. 

The Muslim Brotherhood has long sold itself as a unified organization with a single leader, single line, and a single hierarchy. However, this has turned out to be a massive deception. Immediately after losing power in 2013, the Brotherhood suffered major splits, primarily over how to confront the political crisis they were faced with and how to respond to their humiliating loss of power.

A faction chose nonviolent protests as a temporary strategy, while others were more daring, deciding to play hardball with Egypt’s government. These schisms have never abated, with the Turkey-based wing, led by Mahmoud Hossein, claiming to be the sole legal representative of the imprisoned supreme guide Mohammed Badie.

A new acting supreme guide was elected after a lengthy period of intense power struggles, internal betrayals, and back-and-forth barter of blame within the organization—over political, administrative, and even financial issues. Salah Abdel-Haq was elected in place of the late Ibrahim Mounir, who was based in London.

As a result, it appears that as time passes, more allies are forsaking the Muslim Brotherhood. Not only has Turkey broken with the Brotherhood, but Iran is also poised to follow likewise. Following the rapprochement agreement with Saudi Arabia, Iran is making bold moves, making great strides, and embarking on unforeseen initiatives.

If Iran is honest in its intentions toward Saudi Arabia, it would reevaluate its approach toward non-state actors and once-allied Islamist organizations like the Muslim Brotherhood, Hamas, Houthis and maybe Hezbollah. The latter will almost certainly lose its Shiite ally as well. Historically, the organization has performed poorly in power—and it is lousy at power plays. In its relationship with the Brotherhood—and the other non-state actors—Iran is the puppet master; it always pulls the string. And if it determines that its partnership with the Muslim Brotherhood is no longer beneficial and obstructs it from carrying out its regional agenda, it will most likely distance itself from the organization. 

On balance, the Muslim Brotherhood is in shambles. It has lost its most strong ally, Turkey, and might easily lose Iran due to current political developments. The new Muslim Brotherhood leadership is still operating in a hazy environment. The organization’s difficulties and disputes remain unresolved, and divisions remain unhealed. There are various varieties of the Muslim Brotherhood, each with its own set of connections and affiliations, all of which serve the interests of its respective wings.

The Muslim Brotherhood has been incredibly successful in one area over the last decade: failure. It failed to maintain its coherent organization, strong leadership, and reliable alliances.  The new leadership takes over at a time when the group is on fragile ground, with no significant bases of support at home or reliable allies outside. The new leadership could be part—or a sign—of the organization’s current and future failures—unless a miracle happens.

Mostapha Hassan Abdelwahab is the former editorial manager of the English edition of the Baghdad Post. He is focusing on Iraq, Iran and political Islam movements, with articles posted on the Herald Report, Vocal Europe, the Greater Middle East and other platforms.

Disclaimer: Views expressed by writers in this section are their own and do not reflect Milli Chronicle’s point-of-view. 

Mostapha Hassan Abdelwahab

A mood of reconciliation is developing throughout the Middle East. Four main regional actors—Saudi Arabia vs. Iran and Egypt vs. Turkey—have agreed to bury the hatchet and start again.

There have been shuttle diplomatic tours over the past period in the Middle East to mend relations between the region’s longtime arch-foes Saudi Arabia vs Iran, Egypt vs Turkey. Egypt and Turkey have been locked in a nearly one-decade feud over Turkey’s sympathy with and support for the Muslim Brotherhood and late President Mohammed Morsi.

The ideological congruence between the Turkish AKP-led government and the Muslim Brotherhood has always aroused sensitivities in Egypt, particularly after ousting the Muslim Brotherhood government in July 2013 following mass protests.

The problem between Egypt and Turkey is essentially one of security. Dissidents of Egypt’s regime are being hosted and protected by Turkey. It also has ideological ties to the Muslim Brotherhood, the Egyptian government’s arch-foe.

Yet, it plays a key supporting role for the Tripoli-based National Accord Government, which competes with the Libyan National Army. This significant Turkish security presence, which appeared to be a thorn in Egypt’s side, necessitated lengthy security talks before beginning any diplomatic meetings in order to test the waters and determine whether there was a prospect of changing the current approach to each other.

Following these meetings between senior security and intelligence officials from both countries, media outlets in both countries were directed to tone down their rhetoric, abstaining from insulting the leaders of both countries.

The Qatar 2022 World Cup opening game was the pinnacle of these efforts, with Qatar’s Emir Sheikh Hamad bin Khalifa Al Thani, Egypt’s president Abdel-Fattah El-Sisi, and Turkey’s Recep Tayyip Erdoğan shaking hands and declaring the end of a decade-long standoff.

Egypt-Turkey ties have been the subject of lengthy talks at the security levels between the two countries’ competent officials. The signature of a maritime border demarcation agreement with Greece in August 2020, taking into consideration the Turkish navy’s requests, was the first major step toward easing and ending the diplomatic split between the two sides. Yet, in February 2021, Egypt launched a bid for gas exploration, pledging not to infringe on the Turkish continental shelf.

According to analysts, there has always been a desire to strengthen economic relations. Given that there are motivations to toss a stone into the still pond, all indications show that proper conditions were being created to accomplish rapprochement. There’s a Turkish desire to enhance ties with Egypt in energy projects, the experts added, citing the Ukrainian crisis and the concerns it raised about the shortage in gas supplies, not to mention the two countries’ desire to restore ties to cope with the developments on the regional and global arenas.

The Turkish presence in Libya, its support for the Muslim Brotherhood-affiliated dissenters and the differences over Mediterranean gas shares were the three main obstacles to restoring the diplomatic relations. Turkey has started doing its part and taking tangible steps to bring to a halt the diplomatic breakup with Egypt and improve the strained ties.

Ankara has restricted the Muslim Brotherhood’s mouthpieces—which have been launching fierce propaganda campaigns against President Abdel-Fattah El-Sisi’s regime, playing on economic grievances—ordering them to shut down.

Over the past two decades, Iran’s role in the Middle East has been expanding—with proxy actors spreading and nearly occupying four Arab capitals—Damascus, Beirut, Baghdad and Sana. To Iran, Saudi Arabia is on the opposing side. Saudi Arabia is a major Sunni Arab nation and home to Muslims’ two holiest mosques. It never supports militias or non-state actors. It has no troops deployed overseas. It has no IRGC or Qassem Soleimani. Thus, the political agendas adopted by Saudi Arabia and Iran are diametrically opposed.  

As for Iran and Saudi Arabia, the way the shift happened wasn’t so much different from that of Egypt and Turkey. Saudi Arabia and Iran have always been at loggerheads—but the tensions on the surface have always been a tip of the iceberg. The breaking point came when Iranian protesters had breached the Saudi embassy in Tehran and its consulate in Najaf following Riyadh’s execution of Saudi Shiite cleric Nimr al-Nimr in 2016, a point at which the relationship between the two countries was severed. This diplomatic breakup was followed by a streak of estrangement and proxy war.

Negotiations were resumed in April 2021 in Baghdad. The two sides held unannounced meetings in Baghdad’s Green Zone. They held five rounds of talks, the last of which was held in April 2022. These rounds of talks yielded limited results.

These rounds of talks were characterized by secretiveness. According to Iran’s foreign ministry spokesman Saeed Khatibzadeh, an agreement with Saudi Arabia stipulates that the details of the talks should never be revealed. There has been deep divergence between the two sides. This was indicated by the slow and prolonged talks between the two sides—with the intervals between the rounds of talks—particularly the fourth and fifth rounds—extending to seven months.

The internal and regional developments that accompanied these talks weren’t stable. In Iran, President Ebrahim Raisi took power following a controversial presidential contest marked by voter apathy. The reign of Mostafa al-Kadhimi ended and his successor Mohammed Shaya al-Sudani took office and took over the coordination of the talks. Some even argue that the Saudi-Iranian rapport’s seed was soon in Iraq, as there has been rapprochement between Riyadh and Baghdad since al-Kadhimi took power.

Thus, there are similarities shared by the talks between Egypt and Turkey on the one hand and Iran and Saudi Arabia on the other. Both Egypt and Saudi Arabia are concerned with the security issues, since Iran and Turkey have been nurturing an increasing deployment in the Middle East and beyond, using non-state actors and ideology-infused groups. The Muslim Brotherhood’s ideology—globalist Islam, establishing the caliphate and, to some extent, restoring the now-fading Ottoman glory—is Turkey’s asset. Meanwhile, Iran’s asset is militias indoctrinated by the ideology of Velayat-e Faqih who seek to establish the Shiite version of the globalist Islam. Ironically, Iran has strong ties with the Muslim Brotherhood, too.

Another similarity is the climb-down, or concessions made by Turkey and Iran in order to mend relations with Egypt and Saudi Arabia. To promote its political project, Iran has traditionally relied on militancy and proxy actors. Despite sanctions and severe pressures, it has continued with this political project. However, when the sanctions hurt the country’s economy and the regime’s legitimacy at home as well as its credibility among Shiites, the regime was forced to back down, taking several steps back and sitting down with its archrival Saudi Arabia to end the decades-long rivalry. Similarly, Turkey’s Erdoan has always opposed normalizing relations with Egypt’s regime, claiming that he would never shake hands with someone like El-Sisi—but he climbed down and did it.

The bottom line: A mood of reconciliation is developing throughout the Middle East. Four main regional actors—Saudi Arabia vs. Iran and Egypt vs. Turkey—have agreed to bury the hatchet and start again. The talks were slow and laborious. Concerns about security have taken precedence over political issues. There are stronger parties and those that have made concessions. Yet, the newly reconciled nations haven’t fully restored ties, allowing each other time to test their intentions and see if each side would follow through on what was agreed upon. As a result, a significant step has been accomplished, yet there is still a mountain to climb.

Mostapha Hassan Abdelwahab is the former editorial manager of the English edition of the Baghdad Post. He is focusing on Iraq, Iran and political Islam movements, with articles posted on the Herald Report, Vocal Europe, the Greater Middle East and other platforms.

Disclaimer: Views expressed by writers in this section are their own and do not reflect Milli Chronicle’s point-of-view.