The UN security council’s unanimous adoption of resolution 2249 signals a new level of international resolve to deal with the self-styled Islamic State. What it does not do, however, is offer a viable plan for what comes after it in Syria and Iraq.
The resolution calls for eradication of “the safe haven” established by Isis “over significant parts of Iraq and Syria”, which sounds like a clear military objective for the international and local forces ranged against Isis. And even though the resolution does not invoke chapter VII of the UN charter, which would give clear legal sanction to resort to force, its adoption will no doubt lead to more aerial attacks on the Isis base in Raqqa and other targets.
Yet in the face of intensified bombardment by French and Russian planes in recent days, Isis fighters have allegedly embedded themselves among the civilian population.
The prospect of yet more dead and injured civilians in Syria does not augur well for bringing an end to war. And without troops on the ground to take over control of the city and root out Isis militants, more bombing will not by itself solve the problem.
The lessons from the war in Iraq that followed the US-British invasion and the fall of Saddam Hussein’s regime are salutary. To take one example: to eliminate the Iraqi resistance in Falluja, US forces in effect reduced the city to rubble. In this instance, non-combatants were ordered out ahead of the military bombardment. But this not an option available to civilians under Isis occupation in Raqqa.
Isis is more than a bunch of gangsters or power-crazed ideologues with heavy weaponry, though that description does capture some of its essence. Isis emerged as a product of lawlessness and war in both Syria and Iraq. In the context of state failure and conflict between rival paramilitaries, variously backed by external powers, the forces of violence and destruction will drive the antagonists to ever greater atrocities. If not Isis, a comparable ugliness would have emerged in Syria. In Iraq, its fighters come from what was once Saddam’s armed forces – Sunni Muslims and Iraqi nationalists opposed to the Shia-dominated, Iranian-backed government in Baghdad.
At the forefront of the campaign against Isis in Iraq are US-backed Kurdish peshmerga. These have been helped by Kurdish forces from northern Syria, but their relations are fractious, as too are the relations between the Kurdish regional government in Iraq and the PKK, the main Kurdish force behind resistance to the Turkish authorities in eastern Anatolia.
Officially, Turkey is an opponent of Isis, but its concerns about the rise of Kurdish nationalism on its borders with Syria and Iraq has tempered its support for Kurdish efforts to roll back the advance of Isis in the area, particularly in the Yazidi area of Sinjar.
The international coalition now ranged against Isis cannot look to the Kurds in either Syria or Iraq to front for them on the ground. They need to restore a semblance of central national control in both countries. But the official Iraqi army has so far proved incapable of taking and holding territory.
The military forces that have stayed the course with Bashar al-Assad in Syria know that the retribution that awaits them if he falls will be merciless – unless, that is, greater forces invade to impose order. For their part, the Syrian rebels cannot contemplate accommodation with Assad after so much blood has been spilt.
Indeed, one of the reasons why western governments have been so reluctant to intervene on the ground is the realisation that they would end up having to impose order by force, without even the semblance of a viable client regime to front for them. President Vladimir Putin seemingly decided to take that risk, albeit with limited ground forces, on the premise that the Assad regime could fulfil that function.
The readiness of the Russians to garner multinational support for their intervention suggests a realisation that Assad, along with his Iranian and Lebanese Hezbollah supporters, cannot deliver victory over all the Syrian rebels. To suppose that they could all unite against Isis is also unrealistic, given that Assad and others have tolerated the Isis advance to pursue their other rivalries.
A further problem confronting the international coalition against Isis is its ideological appeal outside Syria and Iraq. The reach of Isis is transnational and, if defeated in these countries, it could simply re-emerge in a new form, much as al-Qaida morphed into Isis.
Those Arabs from across the Middle East and north Africa who have rallied to the Isis banner have issues with the regimes in their own countries. For many, the grievances that generated the Arab uprisings have not been addressed. Unemployment and thwarted aspirations remain their lot.
Isis propaganda promises social welfare, a fulfilling family life and an end to the march of western cultural decadence and materialism. For those threatened by the expansion of Iranian and thence Shia power in the Arab world, Isis promises a counteroffensive and a vision of a caliphate that will herald a new golden age for the “true” believers.
This vision also captures the imagination of disaffected youth from migrant communities in Europe who experience social or economic marginalisation. For sure, not all Isis recruits in Europe are poor or unemployed, but they can still suffer discrimination, suspicion and alienation. They are not many, but it only takes a few to form a terrorist cell nurtured by Isis.
One way or another, therefore, adoption of UN resolution 2249 spells the beginning of a new stage in what promises to be a very long campaign.
Rosemary Hollis is professor of Middle East policy studies at City University
