Could Turkey be nearing a resolution of its Kurdish problem? The March 21 ceasefire announcement from Abdullah Ocalan, the jailed leader of the Kurdistan Workers' Party (PKK), has certainly raised hopes of a resolution. The optimism, however, masks significant obstacles, not least of which is the fact that Prime Minister Recep Tayyip Erdogan faces structural incentives that could undermine his motivation to pursue peace as strongly and urgently as might be wished. The process could easily breakdown amid recrimination and a return to violence.

Turkey's Justice and Development Party (AKP)-led government and the PKK have been negotiating for several months. The authorities have allowed some members of the pro-Kurdish Peace and Democracy Party (BDP) to visit Ocalan in jail and communicate his position to the rest of the PKK's leadership, and the broad outlines of a deal are slowly emerging. The PKK will gradually pull back its nearly 2,000 armed militants operating in Turkish territory. In the meantime, the AKP and the BDP will start negotiations on a new constitution and revisions to Turkey's legal framework needed to ensure equal treatment for Kurds. The final stage would be the normalization of relations. Both sides will continue to maintain momentum by making small-scale concessions, though significant steps will have to wait until the PKK has fully withdrawn from Turkish territory.

For both sides, a ceasefire offers significant potential benefits and little downside, at least in the near term. The Turkish population is more inclined to consider a peace deal than at any time in the past few decades. Erdogan would reap considerable electoral benefit from resolving the long-standing violence and tension (though there would be little fallout if the deal were to break down). The BDP would gain electorally for improving, even if only marginally, Turkey's legislative framework regarding the Kurdish minority. The PKK leadership would avoid fighting on two fronts simultaneously given developments in northern Syria-while also giving their militants time to recover from the effects of the violent 2012 campaign in south-eastern Turkey. And then there are more intangible factors: The PKK leaders are thought to be tired of life on the run, and Ocalan too is believed to be angling for house arrest rather than jail.

But despite the momentum and the benefits from a ceasefire, peace could founder on one of several issues. While the mood in the country is promising, there is a wide gap between Kurdish demands and what the government can realistically concede ahead of the upcoming elections. There is also a very real danger that some factions in the PKK and the broader Kurdish movement may feel betrayed by the final deal between the government and Ocalan. That disappointment could trigger a resumption of PKK insurgency.

The most immediate challenge, though, will be implementing the PKK's withdrawal without violence, particularly given that a law assuring their safety appears unlikely at this point. The Turkish military as well as nationalist groups will find it very difficult to allow armed PKK militants to simply leave for safety in northern Iraq. And the PKK will not consider giving up their weapons, especially given the situation in Syria.

Finally, there are concerns about the process. Neither the government nor the Kurdish nationalists have any real experience in handling peace talks and the compressed time frame of less than one year to withdraw troops and write a new constitution significantly increases the complexity. Similar developments in other parts of the world took many years to complete and there is no guarantee that either side will be able to manage any potential moments of tension.

Naz Masraff is an analyst with Eurasia Group's Europe practice.

Note: Today is the tenth in a series of posts that detail Eurasia Group's Top Risks for 2013.

Jacob Zuma's reelection as ANC president will hasten the decline of South Africa's dominant political party and increase social pressures on the continent's most advanced economy. As elections loom in 2014, critical reforms will fall victim to more populist policies.

On the surface, the ANC's December 2012 national conference at Mangaung struck a surprisingly market-friendly tone: Zuma and his allies defeated his most populist challengers, elected labor-leader-turned-tycoon Cyril Ramaphosa as deputy president, dropped any mention of nationalization from the party's platform, and rammed through an endorsement of the pragmatic National Development Plan (NDP). But beneath the surface, worrying trends have become apparent.

The ruling party's policy of strategic state ownership introduced further policy uncertainty to the mining sector (especially on taxes) and paved the way for a heavier state presence in industries like energy and steel. The government is now more likely to use the threat of new taxes to try to secure cheaper inputs for state-run energy and infrastructure projects.

The NDP will probably provide too little, too late. The plan's most critical reforms -- more flexible labor laws, education reform, and rationalizing local government -- will probably be scuttled by vested interests and weak governance, and its 20-year plan for expanding employment and reducing inequality is too broad and too long term to offer much-needed near-term help. As a result, the plan's more populist elements -- including boosting public-sector employment and social spending -- will be implemented first, further limiting government's ability to find longer-term, structural fixes. Ramaphosa's business experience and negotiating skills will help the NDP's cause. But the plan lost its primary champion when former finance minister Trevor Manuel resigned from the ANC's National Executive Committee.

Zuma's demonstrated ability to survive internal challenges will relieve some of the factional pressures within the ANC leadership: All top six party executives are now Zuma allies, and the president's most vocal challengers were uniformly eliminated from the 80-member NEC. Yet this winner-take-all outcome will also reduce the ANC's so-called broad church of leaders and supporters, further undermining the party's monopoly on political legitimacy among black South Africans and increasing the risk of social unrest.

Despite its electoral dominance -- the ANC won 65.9 percent of ballots cast in 2009 -- growing voter apathy and discontent with the pace of economic change has substantially reduced turnout, meaning the ANC now has the support of just 50 percent of registered voters. Anger over inequality has also driven a rise in violent protests, including frequent demonstrations against poor service delivery and last year's wildcat strikes in mining and farm communities. In general, these actions have been instigated by disgruntled or former ANC-affiliated leaders trying to exert influence from the outside.

These trends will continue in 2013. The new ANC leadership will alienate leaders and constituencies from the same areas where protests and strikes are most common, and government efforts to exert tighter control over provincial resources will exacerbate local tensions. Cutbacks and shutdowns by gold and platinum miners in the first half of 2013 -- as well as the June expiration of wage agreements in the gold and coal sectors -- will almost certainly spark another bout of labor unrest in the mining sector, especially given the weakened position of the government-aligned National Union of Mineworkers and the rise of more militant bodies such as the Association of Mineworkers and Construction Union. Combative stances are also likely from the Congress of South African Trade Unions.

The bottom up pressures will weigh on the ANC in advance of the 2014 elections, as will the scandal-plagued leadership of Zuma himself. Though Ramaphosa's respectability provides the party with badly needed cover, the ANC government will still have to focus on short-term spending and patronage to shore up support. Looser monetary policy is also a real possibility, as is a more aggressive (though still tempered) approach to land reform. Without these steps, continued bouts of social unrest may well shake investor confidence more than unwelcome policies.

Bottom line: Zuma is not Nelson Mandela, and the ANC no longer has enough credibility with poor South Africans to (once again) ask for patience in achieving a better life.

Next, we'll profile our "red herring" risks for 2013.

By Hani Sabra and John Watling

Egypt's first round of the referendum on the new constitution delivered a blow to the Muslim Brotherhood and boosted the hopes of the non-Islamist opposition. The draft constitution received a strong yes vote with 56 percent support, but it fell far short of the two-thirds majority that the Brotherhood had likely calculated would be the minimum vote it would win. In addition, voter turnout was low at just 31 percent and Cairenes reportedly rejected the draft 58 percent to 42 percent. The most significant point of comparison is the result of the March 2011 vote that set in motion efforts to draft the new constitution. The Brotherhood and other Islamist groups also backed that poll and it was approved by a massive 77 percent of voters while turnout was also stronger at 41 percent.

The implications for the upcoming parliamentary elections are potentially dramatic, with the non-Islamist opposition emboldened, united for the moment, and possibly on track to win a significant proportion of the seats, though it will still probably fall short of a majority. Egypt's electorate is fluid and a plurality of Egyptians are probably unaffiliated. The non-Islamists probably have a core support of around 20 percent, while the Muslim Brotherhood's core support is probably at around 25 percent. The Muslim Brotherhood also retains its robust electoral machine, and likely support from Salafists, who have their own parties but generally support Brotherhood initiatives. However, the Brotherhood's peripheral support among the remaining plurality of the population -- the unaffiliated voters -- appears to have taken a hit and is waning.

The results are likely to push the Brotherhood to take a less conciliatory approach to governing in the short term, as it scrambles to maintain its advantage. Despite rhetoric about so-called talks, Brotherhood leaders, such as Supreme Guide Mohamed Badie, are becoming increasingly nervous about opposition challenges, and do not want to appear as though they are negotiating from a position of weakness with groups they believed were irrelevant. In addition, as protest activity against the Muslim Brotherhood has increased, the movement has looked inward rather than reaching out to the broader Egyptian society.

The referendum results will fuel the tensions between the Brotherhood and the non-Islamist opposition. The confrontation, played out through protests, strikes, and clashes between opposition supporters and police, will make governing even more difficult. This will be compounded by the ongoing battle between the bureaucracy and the presidency.

Hani Sabra is an analyst with Eurasia Group’s Middle East practice. John Watling is a senior editor with Eurasia Group.

By Damien Ma

Though the curious case of blind Chinese dissident Chen Guangcheng has badly embarrassed China's leaders, it has provided them one important benefit -- it has diverted attention from the far more dangerous story of Bo Xilai. Regardless of the outcome in either case, the Communist Party's image has been badly tarnished. For a Chinese government that seems bent on investing in soft power, these last few months have offered clear reminders that soft power cannot be bought. It must be earned.

For a Chinese government that prefers to keep its differences behind closed doors, the Bo Xilai episode is a nightmare, in part because the involvement of the U.S. and British governments in the case has brought an unusual degree of international media scrutiny. (One of Bo's deputies briefly took refuge in the U.S. embassy, and Bo's wife has been implicated in the murder of a British businessman.) China's familiar tools of propaganda have been overwhelmed by frenzied speculation about the case in the Western press and China's social media echo chamber -- yet another reminder that Beijing can no longer afford to ignore Sina Weibo, China's version of Twitter.

The party leadership has dismissed the Bo Xilai saga as a sideshow and Bo himself as an aberration within the country's otherwise upstanding roster of senior officials. But little of China's blogosphere appears to be buying it. Instead, Bo's story signals for many that China remains a corrupt and opaque place, that the unbridled capitalism practiced in China has mainly benefited politically-connected VIPs, and that greed has infected the leadership right to the top.

And though the drama surrounding Chen Guangcheng has given the public something new to speculate about, in some ways, the story reinforces the cynicism that Bo Xilai has exposed. Chen and Bo -- a powerless and once illiterate legal activist and a powerful political scion who long stood above the law -- seem polar opposites. But they have something important in common; both were left without a place to hide when the leadership decided they should be punished.

Few within the country believe that Bo or his wife will have their day in court, reinforcing public fear that average citizens have no real protection within a system manipulated for the benefit of the party. That Chen, like Bo Xilai's deputy, first sought sanctuary in the U.S. embassy underscores a point not lost on the Chinese public: The United States, not China's own government, offers protection of last resort in times of political turmoil.

These stories are engendering a growing trust deficit between the government and the informed public -- the very elites that the party counts as its crucial constituency. A perception of systemic "rot from within" and the lack of legitimacy it implies undermine the regime's monopoly hold on domestic political power.

Despite Premier Wen Jiabao's constant talk of political reform, the last decade of the Hu Jintao/Wen Jiabao administration saw an economy that raced ahead and a political system that changed very little. But to repair this latest damage to its "brand," the party may feel it has to produce some real change. Some within the leadership are already using this opportunity to push for political liberalization. In his closing arguments as premier, an increasingly legacy-conscious Wen Jiabao is making a final pitch for real political reform. But Wen is a lame duck.

Over the course of the next few months, China will introduce a new generation of top leaders. Any political changes they might produce are unlikely to fundamentally recast Chinese politics or to appear soon. But they may soon find that delivering go-go growth is no longer enough. They may find that, particularly in the online public square provided by social media, a growing segment of China's people will expect a new degree of accountability -- and a new kind of change.

Damien Ma is an analyst in Eurasia Group's Asia practice.

By Jiakun Jack Zhang

In an attempt to reorient its economy toward consumption and allow its masses to share more of its record growth, China is quietly undertaking the largest social welfare project in human history.

Decades of rapid economic growth have created vast inequalities, and populism is consequently on the rise. China's 99 percent feel left out of their country's rapid development and are increasingly lodging their complaints online. A recent study of Chinese internet trends in 2011 reveals a shift away from nationalism toward issues of public welfare. The government is paying greater attention to social media and taking notice of this trend. In 2011, mentions of Weibo (Chinese twitter) in The People's Daily (the Party mouthpiece newspaper) increased by an astonishing 83,900 percent.

In its battle to retain political legitimacy, the Chinese Communist Party has announced that it will sacrifice growth for development quality. It realizes that raising the GDP growth bar is no longer adequate and has launched its own version of the New Deal by introducing ambitious reforms and hiking spending on affordable housing, social security, healthcare, and education. If China's leaders bungle this massive undertaking, it will spell trouble for the country's state capitalist system.

If they get it right, the next five years, covered by the 12^th Five Year Plan (FYP), could prove to be the most transformative in modern Chinese history. As Beijing attempts to extend the social safety net to cover all of its 1.3 billion people, it could reshape China's economic landscape by furthering urbanization, bolstering domestic consumption, creating a better-educated workforce, and improving social stability. There are two simultaneous goals: preserve the legitimacy of the political system and contribute to the country's economic re-balancing.

For a nominally communist country, China's lack of a social safety net is somewhat ironic. When Beijing dismantled the country's communes and privatized state-owned enterprises in the 1980s and 1990s, China's ‘iron rice bowl' welfare system collapsed. The national savings rate rose during the 2000s as Chinese households struggled to pay for increasingly expensive housing, healthcare, and education while putting away enough for retirement. Ordinary citizens had little choice but to deposit their savings into state-owned banks, earning negative real returns. The savings glut fueled the country's export- and investment-driven model, but household consumption lagged.

This model seemed to work until the global financial crisis shook Beijing out of its complacency. After several abortive attempts at reform over the past decade, China's leaders finally seem committed to mending the country's broken social safety net. The government plans to construct seven million affordable housing units in 2012 alone-the project is estimated to cost 1.3 trillion yuan ($198 billion) and aims to make 20 percent of the housing market "affordable" by 2015. Last year it implemented regulations that will provide basic pension and insurance coverage for all citizens and ramp up spending by 21.9 percent to 575 billion yuan ($91 billion). A new set of health care reform goals were set in the 12th FYP: universal health care, drug pricing reform, and public hospital reform. The 2012 appropriation for healthcare is 203 billion yuan ($32 billion), an increase of 16.4 percent from 2011. Education spending is slated to expand by 16.4 percent to 378 billion yuan ($60 billion). For more details, refer to the Ministry of Finance Budget Report for 2012.

Yet pushing through reforms will prove a significant challenge for China's fifth generation of leaders. The window for reform is rapidly closing and implementation will be hindered by entrenched interests and bureaucratic inefficiencies at the local level. China's economic growth is slowing and its demographic advantage is fading. The government acknowledges that while its revenues are projected to shrink, its expenditures will expand in order to finance these new entitlement projects. The Communist Party risks losing political legitimacy and will confront growing social unrest if these efforts stall or fail. Political reforms may be the only way to create a civil service capable of administering these programs effectively (and without corruption). Having recognized that headline-grabbing GDP growth isn't enough, China's political system will have little to fall back on if it can't make this New Deal work.

Jiakun Jack Zhang is a researcher in Eurasia Group’s Asia practice.

By Roberto Herrera-Lim

Secretary of State Hillary Clinton's visit to Myanmar this week was a public relations coup for that regime and for Western advocates of engagement. The New York Times featured a photo of Clinton smiling with freed opposition leader Aung San Suu Kyi, both clad in white. But while the visit and Myanmar's incremental reforms have ignited hopes that relations between that nation and the West could thaw considerably in the near term, some skepticism is appropriate regarding how quickly things will change. The regime will continue balancing reform with control, suggesting that progress will be slow and gradual. That will not stop the U.S. from offering diplomatic and administrative concessions to the new Burmese government, but in the absence of major reforms in the near term, Washington will be too consumed by other issues to take up what would be a contentious congressional debate on sanctions.

Myanmar's reform process began sometime in 2007 or 2008, possibly in the wake of the 2007 Saffron Revolution of Buddhist monks. Barack Obama's presidential win in late 2008 secured buy-in for that process within the military junta; the expectation was that the Obama administration would be more open to dialogue and engagement than previous U.S. administrations had been. Since then, President Thein Sein's government has begun implementing some of the country's most serious political reforms in a decade. It has allowed more open discussion of political and economic reform, suspended construction of a Chinese-funded dam due to the population's concerns about its environmental side effects, and -- most prominently -- freed Suu Kyi.

But only guarded optimism is warranted. First, the reforms being implemented are calculated moves, rather than signs of any wholesale embrace of democracy. The government -- which includes proxies of the former junta -- is unlikely to adopt reform for reform's sake, but instead as a means of soothing internal tensions and reducing external threats to the military. As such, the carefully planned changes can be read as a way for the government to maintain control and protect the aging, retired members of the former junta.

Second, Myanmar has a history of stalling or reversing reforms. In 2004, political infighting led to the ousting of the relatively reformist prime minister Khin Nyunt and stalled the "roadmap to democracy" with which Myanmar had hoped to establish credibility with Washington. (This setback followed the 2003 attack on Aung San Suu Kyi's convoy by armed groups suspected of acting on behalf of hardline military factions.) And several times -- in 1992, 2004, and 2005 -- former junta leader Than Shwe released political prisoners but followed up with nothing else. Similarly halting reform won't be enough for Washington, which will likely insist on major moves such as the release of most political prisoners, an end to the persecution of minorities, and free and fair elections in 2015 before lifting sanctions. While this may happen, it will take some time.

In the meantime, incremental reforms could keep improving the West's informal engagement, which might in turn reinforce the regime's good behavior. Suu Kyi, who was the most visible sign of the country's slide into authoritarian rule, will be a critical determinant of this diplomatic trajectory. Indeed, there will be no more important signals for Washington than those coming from her about the pace of Burmese reform and whether or not the time is right to lift sanctions.

Roberto Herrera-Lim is a director in Eurasia Group's Asia practice.

By Bob Herrera-Lim

The strong win by Pheu Thai (PT) Party representing the allies of former prime minister Thaksin Shinawatra at the July 3 parliamentary elections will allow the country to avoid any serious near-term instability. The incoming PT-led coalition government will have about 300 seats out of 500, which makes it much harder for anti-Thaksin groups to reduce the new government's majority, either through disqualifications or defections, and engineer a legal takeover as they did in 2008.

In the meantime, the military and the crown will pragmatically avoid any outright provocation or direct confrontation, a strategy the PT will also pursue. Army chief Prayuth Chan-ocha is strongly anti-Thaksin, but he cannot move without justification, such as a popular or political movement similar to large anti-Thaksin rallies in 2006. Prayuth will likely negotiate some near-term deal that avoids a major shuffle of military commanders and secures Thaksin's agreement not return to the country without proper legal proceedings.

The monarchy will be similarly constrained. The king appears disinterested in current politics, so it is the queen and Privy Council President Prem Tinsulanonda who will guide the monarchy's strategy. They too can only be effective if there is some "popular" movement that has effectively mobilized against the government. In the past, the Yellow Shirts (organized and financed by media mogul Sondhi Limthongkul) provided this momentum. But Sondhi's relationship with the military and the Bangkok elites has eroded significantly since 2008 when the Yellow Shirts blockaded the airport and precipitated a political crisis.

There has been some speculation that the PT's political agenda could provoke the military or the monarchy, but this risk remains relatively low. All signals indicate that the PT is aware of how any early and public attempt to secure Thaksin's return, or ban party dissolution could lead to an early and distracting political battle. Prime Minister-elect Yingluck Shinawatra was quick to emphasize national unity and deemphasize an immediate return by her brother. Laying the legal groundwork for his return, managing the political dynamics around it, and negotiating with the other elite factions will likely be done over the next few months behind the scenes. Constitutional change will also be pursued carefully to avoid triggering a similar fight.

Whether this temporary peace will lead to longer-term stability remains uncertain. The anti-Thaksin factions among the elites may now recognize that elections will sometimes deliver results they disagree with, but which they must respect. But they may instead maintain their belief that the popular vote is unreliable, that the electorate is susceptible to promises of economic largesse and populist rhetoric, and that when necessary the results must be overturned. The future of Thai democracy will be decided by the outcome of that decision.

Bob Herrera-Lim is a director with Eurasia Group's Asia practice.

By Eurasia Group's Africa practice

Over the next couple of weeks, The Call will be detailing our political and economic expectations for regions around the world. First up: Africa.

The big story in Africa next year will be elections. In total, Africa will hold 17 presidential contests; a range of local, regional, and parliamentary votes; and a referendum on independence in southern Sudan. Not all political actors will seek legitimacy via the ballot box or play by the rules, but this high number of elections highlights the continent's momentum toward democratization.

Elections in Africa often generate uncertainty -- by intensifying power struggles among elite factions, between reformist and hard-line elements, and between incumbents and the opposition. Nigeria's election in April 2011 is likely to be the continent's most hard-fought. A bid by current President Goodluck Jonathan, a southerner, to secure the ruling party's nomination for another term threatens to upset the delicate power balance between the country's north and south and to derail crucial oil and power-sector legislation.

Zimbabwe is at a crossroads. Political reforms -- including a constitutional referendum -- are stalled. The landmark power-sharing agreement between President Robert Mugabe's party, ZANU-PF, and the opposition Movement for Democratic Change (MDC) expires in February 2011, but the timing of elections is still uncertain. ZANU-PF will go all out to avoid another power-sharing pact, but a disputed election is possible. If Mugabe can hold elections in early 2011, ZANU-PF has a good chance of retaking sole power, which would kill Zimbabwe's tentative rapprochement with Western nations and seriously dampen its prospects for economic recovery. A postponement (perhaps until 2012) would ensure a more credible process and give the MDC a decent chance. In the meantime, the election battle will heighten economic policy risks.

In the Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC), the administration of President Joseph Kabila will likely rig the voting in late 2011 to ensure his reelection. But one challenger, Vital Kamerhe, could pose a limited threat if the government allows him to run. On the economic side, management of resources is expected to improve incrementally, especially at the central bank, the finance ministry, and donor coordination bodies.

Although Uganda's President Yoweri Museveni is likely to win reelection outright in February (perhaps thanks to his newly displayed musical talents), challenger Kizza Besigye may force a runoff. Uganda's imminent oil wealth has ratcheted up the political stakes and could darken prospects for a peaceful election. But despite complaints from the opposition about election rigging, the international community will likely accept the results, and the status quo will prevail. This will reassure investors in East Africa's next oil-producing state. But the combination of a relatively competitive election, the potential for violence, and looming oil windfalls could each make Uganda harder to govern.

A different type of vote, southern Sudan's referendum on independence, is likely to generate the most media attention in early 2011. Despite logistical challenges, the referendum is almost certain to take place -- though with minor delays -- and a vote in favor of independence is a foregone conclusion. But the separation may be difficult to effect. During the six-month transition period before statehood and a final agreement on oil revenue sharing, borders and citizenship rights must be negotiated. The contested region of Abyei, which has its own referendum, could become an early flash point.

This post was written by analysts in Eurasia Group's Africa practice.

By David Bender

What exactly did Iraq wait 8 months for? 

It's been seven weeks since Iraq smashed the record for the longest period of time between an election and the formation of a government. But last week there was finally a breakthrough of sorts between the country's squabbling political factions. It's not yet a done deal, but it's now finally possible to speculate about what the next Iraqi government will look like -- and time to ask the question of whether it was all worth the wait. 

The deal struck last week between the Shia-dominated National Alliance, Sunni-backed Iraqiya, and the Kurdish alliance provides the basis for the next government. But it isn't a basis for a stable government. The agreement was an attempt to satisfy everyone in the short term, while delaying decisions on important political issues further into the future. The next government is likely to have little policy coherence, much infighting, and numerous contradictory agendas. That's a troublesome dynamic given that Iraq faces an impending onslaught of tough technical and political questions in 2011. The Kurds will press hard for progress on their territorial issues and their right to sign their own oil contracts, provincial governments will call for greater shares of the profits from Iraq's oil and gas, al Qaeda is attempting to reassert itself going after soft targets, and someone competent will need to direct and oversee the upcoming massive infrastructure expansion needed for the growing Iraqi oil industry.

The outlook for a government capable of managing all these challenges is not good, and the process that got us here was chaotic. Nouri al Maliki will remain prime minister after he skillfully navigated the long political limbo by using his incumbency to project a sense of inevitability that he would retain the premiership. This occurred despite the fact that nearly every other political bloc in the country despises him. Maliki's hold on the job was finally sealed when Iran brokered a deal in Qom, the Iranian city home to many of that's country's senior religious leaders, between Maliki and followers of firebrand Iraqi cleric Moqtada al-Sadr, who had previously declared they would sooner support the devil as prime minister. It's not clear what the Sadrists have been promised in exchange for their support, but they are likely to be a meaningful player in the next government. That's bad news for virtually everyone, because the Sadrists' hard-line nationalism, religious extremism, capacity for violence, and generally uncompromising attitude will make them a disruptive force in Iraqi politics.

But Maliki needed more than just Sadrist support to gain majority backing in parliament. He also looked to the Kurds, who had enough seats to give him a comfortable majority. The Kurds responded with a long list of demands, but ultimately were likely to support him. The United States, which had been keeping its distance from talks, feared that Iraq was heading toward a narrow Shia-Kurdish government that would exclude Sunnis from any meaningful political participation, increasing the risk of a spike in sectarian violence. Washington began working feverishly behind the scenes to push Iraqi politicians to find a compromise that would bring Iyad Allawi's largely Sunni Iraqiya into the next government. So the United States succeeded, sort of.

The White House and other leaders hailed the "power-sharing" agreement that would permit a national unity government to be formed when Parliament convened on Nov. 11. How much power will be shared remains unclear. In the deal, Iraqiya was offered the position of Speaker of Parliament, while Jalal Talabani, a Kurd, would remain president. For Iraqiya, which actually won two more seats than Maliki's State of Law, being given what is perceived as the third best position in the government was an insult. This despite the fact that the speaker, who has control over legislation in the parliament, is arguably more influential than the president, whose powers are largely symbolic. Under the deal, Allawi is to be named head of a newly created national security policy council, which in theory will check Maliki's control over the security forces.

But formally changing the chain of command in Iraq would require a highly unlikely constitutional change, and it seems unlikely that Maliki will ultimately agree to a significant reduction in his powers. He has argued that the new council will function as an advisory panel with no independent authority. If Allawi decides he is powerless in his new position, he could resign and become a forceful leader of the opposition.

Between an unclear Iraqiya role, an uncomfortably large Sadrist contingent, rising Kurdish demands, and no unity of purpose among any of the political groups, the prospects for the next government are not great. But the overall situation in Iraq will probably improve anyway. The next government isn't going to resolve much of Iraq's deep social and political dysfunction, but having it in place will finally allow the oil sector, budget, and infrastructure projects to begin to move ahead.

Was it worth the eight (soon to be nine) month wait? No.

But is it a good thing that there's likely to be a government by the new year? Absolutely.

David Bender is an analyst in Eurasia Group's Middle East practice.

By Nicholas Consonery

We all know that Beijing is dedicated to managing the flow of sensitive information in China. Whole websites are dedicated to discerning the government's propaganda strategies and to uncovering the specific stories that Beijing is trying to control.

But it isn't often that China's own leaders are censored these days--which is exactly what happened to Premier Wen Jiabao last week.

On Oct. 3, Premier Wen granted an extensive interview to CNN's Fareed Zakaria. During the dialogue (well-worth the half-hour), Wen raised eyebrows by arguing that the Chinese people's "wishes for and needs for democracy and freedom are irresistible." Wen promised that, in pursuing these wishes, "I will not fall in spite of a strong wind and harsh rain, and I will not yield till the last day of my life."

Wen's comments were covered widely in the Western press. But in China, such coverage was stifled in the days following his remarks. On Oct. 7, the Wall Street Journal reported that there had been "an official news blackout" of the interview.

Since then, abbreviated versions of it have been popping up in sanctioned Chinese media. The coverage captures the gist of Wen's comments, especially focusing on his four uncontroversial tenets of political reform: "To let everyone lead a happy life with dignity. To let everyone feel safe and secure. To let the society be one with equity and justice. And to let everyone have confidence in the future."

Contrary to popular perceptions, China's leaders are not outright opposed to political change. Small-scale local elections were initiated in the early 1980s and still happen today, anti-corruption campaigns are unending, and in recent years, party elders have talked publicly and at great length about the importance of intra-party democracy. In other words, more transparent, responsive policymaking and career mobility within the existing Communist party structure are already on the table. In the past year alone, the government has been working to convey a greater responsiveness in handling long-standing grievances like forced housing relocations and is moving toward mandatory public disclosure of the salaries and assets of government officials.

Wen's comments don't look so controversial in this light. So why would the Party's propaganda mechanism instinctively suppress them?

One argument I've heard recently is that Chinese government officials are deft at conveying different messages to domestic and foreign audiences. In other words, maybe Wen was telling us just what we wanted to hear. "If Wen wanted his comments covered," a good friend in the U.S. government argued yesterday, "I think it's safe to say they would have been." This seems plausible. All politicians try to tailor their words to fit their respective audiences. But that does not explain why Wen has already spoken publicly, in China, about continued political reforms several times this year.

Another popular theory is that there is an elite power struggle going on in Beijing, and that Premier Wen is personally working to drive political reform in the face of mighty opposition as he approaches the end of his term in 2012. By this line of thinking, Wen's opponents would have stifled his comments so that the Chinese public wouldn't expect any rapid changes. "Fire's real beauty," as Ray Bradbury wrote in Fahrenheit 451, "is that it destroys responsibility and consequences."

Perhaps. But it seems more plausible that the immediate stifling and subsequent careful management of Wen's comments simply reflect the transitory political environment in China right now. Keep in mind that Beijing is moving toward an unprecedented leadership transition in 2012. Seven of the top nine members of the Chinese Communist Party will be replaced along with hundreds of lower level Party and government officials.

We assume that the top leadership beyond 2012 has been generally agreed on (with some exceptions). But there's no question that most officials have strong incentives to avoid controversy in the lead-up to this transition. Any black mark could undermine their chances to get top spots in the next administration, and any perceived weakness could be exploited by rival factions for their own gain. Meanwhile, it will be getting gradually more difficult for the current leadership to mobilize support as different groups in the Party, government, and military coalesce behind their preferred candidates for the top spots in 2012.

In this tenuous environment, it's no wonder that Beijing's innate response to any talk of difficult political reform is to freeze up. Many in the Chinese government, perhaps including Premier Wen himself, likely do support the idea of political reform in spirit. But many others do not. And the Chinese policy environment does not seem conducive to much compromise between these groups right now. I wouldn't expect much boldness on political reform until we're well past this transitory period.

Nicholas Consonery is a China analyst at Eurasia Group.