Bickering over leadership will only create a political vacuum and leave country vulnerable to foreign interference

When Lawrence of Arabia, the paragon of contemporary espionage, entered Damascus on October 1, 1918, the initial euphoria quickly turned into cacophony. The Arab army of Sharif Hussain, under the command of his son Faisal and led by Lawrence, liberated Syria from Ottoman rule yet quickly saw vanish its hopes to unite Arabs in a single nation.
Factionalism came to the fore around the power-sharing table. Almost a century later, history is witnessing the same old minority contentions threatening to usurp basic freedoms, as new dissonances among opposition forces drench reason.
Eerie photographs from the Istanbul anti-government National Salvation Council (NSC) meeting last week resembled similar gatherings in Damascus, which flabbergasted Lawrence in 1918, and whose parallels in tone and substance bode ill for Syria.
Indeed, the large and diverse group of activists that assembled in 2011 proposed to chart a path toward the end of the Al Assad regime, although most participants debated tangential concerns. To their credit, Syrian dissidents adopted bold positions, aware that the mantle of change ought to be worn by Syrians themselves without outside interference and, especially, without foreign troops.
In fact, everyone understood that they confronted a fairly long struggle and that the plan was to literally choke the Al Assad regime economically and, over time, diplomatically too. Still, while several capitals declared that President Bashar Al Assad was losing his legitimacy, it was difficult to witness the dysfunctional opposition free-for-all at a time when ordinary people placed their lives on the line every day.
Sadly, dissidents seemed oblivious to the bloody clashes, wallowing in meaningless discussions that highlighted divisions that ought to be rapidly resolved. Ever since the June Antalya meeting, activists continued to bicker, clamouring for attention.
Abdullah Trad Al Moulahim, Haitham Al Maleh, Aref Dalila, as well as Shaikh Khalid Al Khalaf and Mamoun Al Homsi, among others, were all leaders-in-waiting. Other prominent participants with serious aspirations included Suhair Al Atassi and Fida’a Hawrani, who represented a new generation of women political activists willing to take risks to advance the cause.
Even Riad Turk, the head of the outlawed People’s Democratic Party, and Abd Al Halim Khaddam, the former Baathist vice-president who formed the moribund National Liberation Front in exile in 2005, pretended to play key roles in this transition period.
These were not the only claimants as Ammar Qurabi, in exile in Cairo where he heads the National Organisation for Human Rights, along with Omar Al Azm, a professor of anthropology at the University of Ohio, as well as Adib Shishakli, the grandson of a former Syrian president, where all keenly interested in adding their voices to the debate. Ali Bayanouni, the London-based leader of the exiled Syrian Muslim Brotherhood who helped Khaddam establish the Front, wanted a say too.
In short, all of these men and women wished to lead, though it was doubtful whether they could gain the trust of the population. Lest one misread the tea leaves, the real and effective opposition today is the one that roams on Syrian streets, free of machinations that promise high-rises but deliver shanty-towns.
To some extent, the cacophony of leaderships in the Syrian opposition is a clear success story for the Baath Party that stifled freedom of thought for well over four decades, and prevented the rise of alternatives. Nevertheless, what is clearly missing from the equation is the emergence of a unified voice that can rally various political preferences towards a single goal.
In fact, in Istanbul, the wise old Hakim Al Malek declared that young activists had a golden opportunity to install democratic institutions, and ought not waste the moment with internal squabbling over marginal issues. He recommended that the NSC settle on a transitional leader, much like in Libya, to accelerate the change rather than fall victim to the gap-in-leadership argument.
If Tunisians, Egyptians, Syrians, Libyans and Yemenis, among others, have taken up arms against autocrats, the hope was to quickly pass through transitional phases. No one contemplated political vacuums even if that is precisely what the Arab uprisings face a few months after epochal demonstrations brought down several entrenched regimes.
It behooves dedicated men and women not to fall into false promises that totally free and democratic institutions could quickly replace existing systems. On the contrary, the slogs will be hard and long lasting, with a myriad dangers looming over the horizon.
Just as Arabs demonstrate their opposition to stale regimes, foreign powers are secretly laying claim to the spoils of unrest and wars. Some fear, for example, that Turkey will ‘share’ parts of Syria, while Libya and Yemen remain on the brink of permanent divisions.
Many of the problems that exist today among opposition forces cannot be brushed under the table. They must be honestly addressed lest they aggravate wobbly confidence measures haphazardly agreed to by well meaning but poorly prepared aspirants. Like Lawrence of Arabia, who was tortured by Ottoman soldiers when he was briefly captured at Daraa, opposition leaders would do well to manage their guilt over the fact that few kept their promises. Ultimately, it is up to them to step up to the plate, end tangential disputes, and truly represent people who deserve to live in peace.
Dr Joseph A. Kechichian is a commentator and author of several books on Gulf affairs.