The Globe and Mail

The Arab Spring has moved into its next season: Arab Summer. In the natural world, summer is the time for flowering blossoms to progress their journey to mature fruit. Yet, this summer, it’s hard to find anyone who doesn’t feel a few pangs of apprehension about what these citizen-led revolutions will yield, especially in places like Libya, Syria and Yemen. Outsiders wonder about the aims of these protests, and there is queasiness too about our role. When does meddling become undue influence; when does protection of innocents become support for regime change?

I’ve spent my entire career managing global risk, strategically bringing together public- and private-sector players, at the right time and in the right place, in business and in development. What I’ve learned is to pay attention to openings in both “top-down” and “bottom-up” power that make strategic alignment not only possible, but sustainable. Right now, these openings are happening at a furious pace in the Middle East, and the cast of players isn’t restricted to youth leaders versus conventional power.

For example, in Yemen, tribes in that country’s remote “ungovernable” regions remain more conservative than youth, but they are fully engaged: fighting to oust al-Qaeda from their communities; championing the youth-led agenda to end corruption and cronyism; and even endorsing female participation in decision-making. This spring, tribes rallied behind female journalist Tawakul Karman as the reincarnation of the Queen of Sheba, and hence, rightful leader for Yemenis.

Recognizing these openings isn’t easy. We’re conditioned to look for obvious leaders of formal organizations – the Transitional National Council in Libya, Mohamed ElBaradei in Egypt, or official opposition parties in Syria or Yemen. Yet who are the rebels, and what are their objectives and organizational structures? In ongoing discussions with friends across Yemen, I’ve come to realize that this political change is being largely driven by individuals, often acting spontaneously – mothers who are simply fed up with their government’s arbitrary withholding of essential services, from gas to water to electricity, or youth who can’t secure regular jobs and are tired of being seen as in some part responsible for their own misfortune. It’s hard to decapitate a headless revolution, which may explain the ruthless, bloody crackdowns by Bashar al-Assad on the streets in Syria.

Outsiders to the Arab world struggle to identify means to support the ultimate paradox: stability and change.

Last November, before the advent of these uprisings, I was invited to a gathering of “Friends of Yemen” hosted by the U.K.’s Chatham House in an effort to stabilize the failing state of Yemen. At this meeting, I was dismayed to find not one Yemeni woman at the table. By focusing on top-down change leaders – nearly exclusively male in a place like Yemen – we failed to appreciate what was happening at the grassroots. Going forward into the Arab Summer, the voices of tribes, youth, women and other traditionally excluded individuals must be invited to peace-building tables. If these groups are not brought into the process, resilient and enduring stability should not be expected.

Pandora’s box has indeed been opened by Middle Eastern youth. Some would like to shove all the ills of the Arab world back into that little box. Yet I don’t see any utopian naïveté in these grassroots revolutions. What I see are sparks of hope – the one gift that did remain in Pandora’s box.

Donna Kennedy-Glans is a lawyer, author and founder of Bridges Social Development.