On A Dagger's Edge
Yemen has become America's surprise ally in fighting terrorism. But can the Muslim nation survive its own struggle with endemic poverty and extremism?
"An ocean of failures." But this effort is hobbled by Yemen's history of cozy relationships with some of these militants and its paltry infrastructure. The government doesn't have a master database listing Yemeni citizens; even passport records are spotty. The government has pledged to curtail the thriving black market for small arms and explosives, but results have been limited. U.S. officials confronted President Saleh with evidence that guns sold to Yemen's Ministry of Defense ended up in the arms of terrorists who stormed the U.S. Consulate in Jidda, Saudi Arabia, in late 2004 and killed five people. "The worrisome thing is that there is a network, and Yemen could possibly be a one-stop shop because of the availability of weapons and people who could be recruited," says one U.S. diplomat.
Indeed, Yemen's alarming poverty--and the rising despair among its people--threaten to overshadow the tactical partnership. "By focusing on security, the United States is swimming in a sea of results while missing an ocean of failures," says Nabil Sabaie, a leading independent Yemeni journalist. Nearly half of Yemenis subsist on less than $2 a day, and unemployment continues to grow. Despite its oil resources, Yemen ranks 151 out of 177 nations on the United Nations human development index, which measures economic, educational, and health indicators. And with the population growing so fast that the size of this nation of 20 million will double in 17 years, Yemenis fear that any improvements are a long way off. "I'm afraid our people are not going to have the patience," says Mohammed Abdul Malek al-Mutawakil, a political science professor and opposition politician.
Take the example of Shakir Najji, 23, a senior in computer programming at the University of Sana. As one of the few Yemenis fluent in computers, he should be in high demand after graduation. Instead, he is convinced that he, like many of his friends, will not be able to find a job. "I want to leave the country," he says. "The situation is not good for settling down, working, and getting married."
U.S. officials admit that for several years following September 11, their diplomacy with Yemen focused almost exclusively on terrorism. Now, amid increasing alarm about the nation's future, U.S. diplomats are adjusting their efforts in Yemen to focus more on issues like democracy, freedom of speech, economic reform, and, especially, anticorruption. "This is a country that is really in the balance," says Thomas Krajeski, the U.S. ambassador to Yemen. "There is a risk here for failure, and there is a chance of success. It is our job to give them all the help we can, but they have to make some hard decisions now." Privately, U.S. diplomats are blunter: "We're not going to give them a pass anymore."
Yemen also sees it as a "race against time," says Foreign Minister Abu Bakr al-Qirbi. Oil production, which accounts for more than two thirds of the government's revenues, is dropping precipitously. High oil prices have offset the financial impact of declining production so far, but World Bank experts predict that in about a decade, oil revenues will be negligible. Precious water resources are being similarly depleted. At the same time, the reform effort has stalled. "Democracy, elections, human rights, corruption--this all leads back to the security interests," says one U.S. diplomat. "Without those, you cannot have stability in the country, and youths will continue to be siphoned off into extremism, and, in the worst case, a collapse of government would affect our national security."
advertisement
