It’s crucial that the Arabs take note of what has just transpired in Ukraine. Russia, that supposedly mighty power, could not control political events on its own doorstep, and in a country that is very much part of its traditional sphere of influence.

Russia is frequently cited in some Arab discourse as an alternative to the United States as a chief ally, arms supplier, guarantor, stabilizing force, and new regional power among those who are, for whatever reason, fed up with the United States. There is much talk by some about “seeking alternatives.” When pressed, the first thing that tends to come up as such an alternative is Russia.

But if Russia cannot successfully project its political will across its border into Ukraine, how could anyone expect it to play a decisive role in the Middle East? Does anyone really imagine that Russia has the capability to project its power into, for example, the Gulf region? The once-mighty Soviet naval fleet has given way to a Russian “Admiralty” featuring one lone and rather decrepit aircraft carrier.

This is not to mention that most key Arab allies of the United States have weapons systems and military structures that are deeply invested in American products, services, and technology. Not only are these generally superior: switching to another main supplier would take years and cost a huge amount of money.

This isn’t to say that Russia is entirely ineffective in the Middle East, of course. On the contrary, it has picked its battle, and it has been horrifyingly effective in one narrow project: its committed campaign to maintain and protect, at all costs, the brutal dictatorship of Bashar al-Assad in Syria.

As their clients were collapsing in Kiev, the Kremlin’s diplomats were working overtime at the United Nations Security Council to water down the “humanitarian aid” resolution that passed over the weekend. After having long opposed many drafts of it, the Russians said they were happy to vote for the version that was actually adopted. Of course they were. It creates a moral and practical equivalency between the regime and the opposition with regard to impediments to the delivery of humanitarian aid, which completely elides the reality that the Syrian government is far more culpable than opposition groups. And, crucially, it omitted any language about repercussions if one or more sides in the conflict continue to obstruct humanitarian aid, the evacuation of civilians, and other such fundamental moral imperatives.

So it is a toothless, and largely meaningless, resolution of generalized goodwill that will have no impact because everyone who is violating the rights of ordinary Syrian people and targeting civilians by denying them food, medicine, and humanitarian assistance and refusing to allow them to leave battle zones will continue to do so without fear of interruption or consequences. And the primary force doing that – and will therefore continue, and if necessary increase, these barbaric practices – is the regime in Damascus.

Assad has no reason to fear such empty rhetoric, because his allies in Hezbollah, Iran, and, above all, Moscow are committed to protecting his rule. It’s mind-boggling that any Arabs who profess to feel a sense of moral outrage about the viciousness of the Damascus dictatorship could consider Russia, its primary sponsor, a potential ally of their own.

So the whole notion of a new Arab-Russian entente is practically deficient and morally indefensible. Russia cannot supply the Arabs with what they need, except in the limited case of Assad, of all people. And the role it’s playing in Syria ought to make Russia unacceptable as a potential Arab ally, even if it could.

All of the talk about the old alliance between the United States and its major Arab allies being moribund or in its death throes is not only exaggerated, it is reckless and irresponsible. The Americans and the Arab states still need each other as much, if not more, than ever.

Just as Russia cannot supply the Arabs with what they need in spite of some people’s hopes, Iran similarly cannot provide the Americans, and the rest of the world, with the basis for an accommodation that ensures – to list only the single most important of its aspects – Gulf security.

Arab states might continue to flirt with Russia, and the Americans with Iran. But the great US-Arab “divorce” is simply implausible for both sides. Both parties may feel the other has “cheated on them,” but there’s still a metaphorical house, children, and pets that must be looked after. The “alternatives” to both can’t meet either of their basic needs.

The “marriage” of the US-Arab strategic relationship will continue because, sooner rather than later, both will conclude that any alternative is less attractive and satisfactory than what they have built together over the decades.

What’s at stake for the United States in Syria? Many American policy analysts have concluded, wrongly, that the answer is very little. The reality, however, is very different. Here’s why.

1) Syria has become Exhibit A in the arguments of both those who predict and welcome and those who bemoan and decry the supposed American drawdown from the Middle East. These analysts tend to particularly highlight President Barack Obama’s abandonment of his announced plan to strike Syrian chemical weapons facilities in favor of an accommodationist agreement – which, according to publicly-stated American intelligence analyses, gave the Syrian dictatorship a new lease on international legitimacy and Russia a clear foreign policy victory.

This is interpreted, rightly or wrongly, as symptomatic of a broader American policy of disengagement from the region as a whole. If the United States wishes to continue to play the role of guarantor of regional security in the Middle East and to be taken seriously as a major player there, the consequences of its Syria policy in the past two years will have to be systematically reversed.

2) Relative American inaction in Syria has strengthened American foes and weakened American friends. It’s not only allies like Saudi Arabia and Israel who are unhappy with the implications of the essentially hands-off policy: Iran and its allies are delighted with the prospect of an accommodation with the United States at the expense of Syria.

This impression, even if unfair, is now deeply ingrained. Syria is seen as a barometer of American risk-aversion and unwillingness to use its power to affect crucial regional conflicts that will determine the future strategic landscape of the Middle East.

3) It is often alleged that no vital American national interests are threatened by the conflict in Syria. But the American posture since the end of the Cold War of being the guarantor of global order is severely undermined by the evident disinterest from not only the Obama administration, but also the country at large, in seriously committing American resources to shaping the character, incentive structure, and potential outcomes of the Syrian conflict. This is simply not the behavior of a guardian of global or regional norms and stability.

4) In fact the United States does have vital national interests at stake in Syria. Unless the United States embraces a complete restructuring of its strategic posture in the Middle East, it cannot maintain its position while neglecting the Syrian war. Friend and foe alike, fairly or unfairly, believe they are detecting American fatigue and irresolution. They will act accordingly, and that will not be in the American national interest.

5) The Syrian war is an incubator for everything that is most hostile and detrimental to American interests in the region. As the conflict has been proceeding, it has strengthened Russia at a global level, Iran at a regional level, and Hezbollah at a local level. Meanwhile, Al-Qaeda-inspired organizations are drawing thousands of fanatical young men to be trained and battle-hardened in the Syrian crucible.

The extent to which these extremists will ultimately pose a serious threat to US allies in the Middle East, European states, and even the American homeland, remains to be seen. But there is no question that a new generation of Al-Qaeda-inspired Salafist-jihadists of the most vicious variety is being incubated in Syria. In large part, it is because Western and Arab states have been late to the game and have allowed the most fanatical elements to fund and find recruits among dangerous young extremists who will ultimately emerge from the conflict and then almost certainly look for new targets in the region or beyond.

6) The humanitarian disaster and refugee crisis taking place in Syria is simply unconscionable. Responsibility for addressing this calamity does not rest with the United States alone. But the international community, led by the United States, has not done enough – by every estimation – to deal with the humanitarian crisis, let alone the political and military conundrums, produced by the Syrian war.

True enough, the United States cannot be the world’s policeman. Maybe it even can’t (or rather won’t) be the Middle East’s policeman anymore. But if it won’t even play a decisive role in marshaling the global resources necessary to address this horrifying crisis of dispossession, displacement, privation, and suffering among the most innocent victims, this does even more damage to the American claim to global leadership.

Therefore, what is really at stake is the American role on the regional and global stages. Is the United States still a decisive, proactive, determinative actor? Or has it become a vacillating, reactive, and largely ineffective power?

Those who think the United States lacks a major interest in the outcome in Syria don’t believe that these questions will largely be decided by the American approach to this most devastating and destabilizing of present conflicts.

But they will.

Political power, rule, governance, and high office are often considered synonymous. But looks can be deceiving.

No one really doubts that the true power behind the throne in Egypt’s interim government is the newly-promoted Field Marshal Abdel Fattah el-Sisi, who has been Commander in Chief of the Egyptian Armed Forces and Minister of Defense since August 2012. When he led the ouster of former President Mohammed Morsi in July 2013, Sisi – although he remained only Defense Minister in deference to the Interim President Adly Mansour – certainly became the most powerful man in the country.

With new presidential elections scheduled for mid-April, the stage is now set for Sisi to make the most crucial decision of his career: run or not. From his vantage point, there are powerful arguments in favor of, and against, both decisions.

The most important reason for him to run is that he would almost certainly win. The emerging field is narrow, with only the neo-Nasserist Hamdeen Sabbahi among major Egyptian politicians to have declared his candidacy. By contrast, Abdel Moneim Aboul Fotouh, the former Muslim Brother and reputedly now “moderate” Islamist, has refused to run, calling the new Egyptian state  – in a not particularly original or apt phrase – a “republic of fear.” And the Salafist Al-Nour party has said it will neither field nor support a presidential candidate for the next 10 years.

Many other potential rivals, including former Foreign Minister and Arab League chief Amr Moussa, have urged Sisi to run as a “national savior.” So has much of the media. The Supreme Council of the Armed Forces in late January virtually begged Sisi to run for office, as have most of his colleagues in the interim government. So, as things stand, Sabbahi seems to be the only real alternative to a potential Sisi candidacy, and not a particularly threatening one at that.

What’s more, a fledgling cult of personality has developed around Sisi that virtually ensures that if he runs, he will be elected regardless of whoever stands against him. Peddling items emblazoned with his image, no matter how crude, has become a quick and easy way to make a pound or two on the streets of Egypt’s major cities.

The adoration appears to be both spontaneous – a genuine outpouring of affection for the man who rid the country of the now-detested Muslim Brotherhood and who is seen as the embodiment of the military which guarantees order and security – and also coordinated. There is a degree of unanimity in the legally-operating popular media and culture that suggests a certain investment in this image. The campaign has stooped to the level of children’s cartoons, and sweets and candies bearing his picture in little.

Hero-worship, let alone nascent cults of personality, must be very seductive temptresses. Rumored transcripts and leaked reports only exacerbate fears that Sisi may harbor fantasies of being a national savior – as he is already perceived by millions, at least for now – and the confluence of popular adoration, political pressure from his exceptionally wide support base, and, perhaps, his own proclivities may make the lure of office irresistible to him.

But the most important reason for him not to run is precisely the same: that he would almost certainly win. There can be no question of how tempting this must be. But neither Sisi nor any of his real allies should fail to recognize the serious dangers involved if he, in effect, leaves his position as head of the military and takes up that of head of state.

The honeymoon for the post-Morsi interim government has been remarkably sustained. It’s been based mainly on generalized popular relief of being rid of a detested Muslim Brotherhood government and a continued sense that the Brotherhood and its allies pose a threat to the Egyptian state. The crackdown on the Brotherhood, its designation as a “terrorist organization,” and the recent announcement by the government that the Brotherhood has formed a “paramilitary wing,” have all met with general approval by most of the public, as far as anyone can tell.

However, honeymoons cannot last forever. The Egyptian people have been very clear that what they ultimately want is jobs, dignity, and a responsive, accountable government. This is exactly what they didn’t get from the Brotherhood, and if they don’t get it from another government, eventually they will turn on that one as well.

For Sisi to give up his post as head of the military for that of head of state is risky on two counts.

First, it makes both him and, by inevitable and unavoidable extension, the military, responsible, as long as he is in office, for Egypt’s primary national challenges – not just security issues but much more intractable economic and social ones. It is unlikely that any government, no matter how much support and largesse it receives from Gulf states and others, can quickly secure a brighter economic future for a country with the huge population and economic woes of Egypt. Therefore, a backlash against both him and the military as an institution is a plausible medium-term risk, if not an outright likelihood, unless some kind of economic miracle takes place in Egypt.

Second, to become president would probably make it much more difficult for Sisi to retain the control over the military that he has as defense minister and commander-in-chief. Under the new Constitution, the Supreme Council of the Armed Forces gets to appoint the Defense Minister for at least the next decade. So could, as president, Sisi effectively also have himself appointed defense minister, and would this be legally upheld? And even if he could, his role as head of state and government in general would inevitably draw him away from the military’s operations on a day-to-day basis. Someone else, either in title or in reality, would become the de facto military chief.

So the real question is, which institution ultimately has more value in terms of power, control, and authority? The enormous apparatus of Egypt’s gigantic bureaucracy and government, or the military with its specialized role, relative autonomy within its sphere of influence, secret budget, and vast but uninventoried and unaudited economic holdings? Might Sisi, by leaving the leadership of the military to take up the main seat of government, be trading a much more secure diadem of real power and authority for a hollow crown of responsibility for irresolvable problems such as Egypt’s profound economic woes?

Of course Egypt is unique, as is Sisi’s immediate conundrum. But it might be worth recalling a situation with some vague similarities, long ago and far away: the experience of Juan Perón. There isn’t an iota of Peronismo in either Sisi’s personality or political rhetoric, and the differences between the two are vast. But both men arose from the military at a time of profound economic and political crisis and turmoil in their countries. Neither had a coherent ideology, but each was able to gravitate huge and incongruous coalitions around their individual personae and iconic imagery.

Perón never had the total control of Argentina’s military that Sisi seems to command now in Egypt. And Sisi lacks Perón’s personal charisma (although, after having been bellowed at by Morsi and his allies for so long, many Egyptians may be profoundly drawn to Sisi’s quiet dignity and low-key style).

For all of the differences of time, place, personality, and political style, both men seemed to emerge from the military as wildly popular political leaders through authoritarian populism, hero worship, and nationalist fervor. Both were essentially blank screens on to which huge ranges of popular forces could project their own fantasies. That can’t last when combined with direct political responsibility.

By becoming president, Perón lost two key things over time: the ability to balance his unwieldy coalition of ideologically incompatible supporters, and his control of Argentina’s military.

One can imagine a similar process happening over time to a President Sisi. He, too, presides over a crazy quilt of political factions that are currently backing him, but which will, sooner or later, undoubtedly turn on each other. And, unless Sisi tries to preside over both the military and the government simultaneously as a kind of all-powerful caudillo – a phenomenon common to Latin America and the Arab world, but now highly unpopular in both – the great likelihood is that the armed forces will eventually drift away from him. Perón, after all, was eventually overthrown by a military coup.

The analogy is undoubtedly badly flawed, and the differences between the two are clearly greater than the similarities. Yet there may be a real echo with some significant lessons.

Sisi and his allies might look at the examples of how the Arab monarchies have dealt with growing public demands on their governments. Some Arab royals have so far successfully managed to rise “above the fray,” blaming popular grievances on the failings of executive authorities with direct responsibility, and frequently replacing a rotating group of cabinet ministers to demonstrate their responsiveness to public discontent.

The Egyptian military could potentially play a similar role: maintaining power and authority over its widely accepted sphere of influence, while avoiding the burden and dangers of direct political responsibility for the entire apparatus of governance. And, ideally, it could use this position to not only underscore social and political stability, but also to press for evolutionary change in Egypt over time, while leaving the details of daily governance to others.

A wise advisor might, at this crucial stage, be whispering in the Field Marshal’s ear that perhaps the burden of the highest office in the land ought be better left to someone like Mr. Mansour, his Prime Minister Hazem al-Beblawi, or any number of other plausible civilians, while it is in the best interests of both Sisi personally and the military as a whole – for which he has become an icon and a synecdoche – and its current enviable position in Egyptian society, that he be content to remain defense minister and commander in- chief.

But such wisdom in Egypt, and much of the rest of the Arab world these days, is often in disturbingly short supply.

When Libya’s national soccer team last Saturday held off powerhouse Ghana for 90 minutes of full-time, another 30 minutes of extra time, and then won a nail-biting finish in a penalty shootout in the final of the African Nations Championship in South Africa, perhaps we were looking at something more than just a game. For a country beset by warring militias, rival tribes and clans, and eastern secessionism, this dramatic upset victory in a major tournament could have significant implications in reaffirming the shared Libyan sense of national identity and pride, commonality of purpose, and, indeed, united future.

It doesn’t matter that the African Nations Championship — which excludes any players working outside their home countries — is secondary to the more major Africa Cup of Nations. The unexpected and inspiring victory set off celebrations not seen since the success of the 2011 revolution. In the immediate wake of the fall of Ben Ali, Tunisia’s victory in the same tournament also helped reinforce national identity at a crucial time.

For countries in the grip of transition, or groups seeking to reinforce their identities or create new national narratives, high-level sports can, and historically frequently have, been an unlikely focal point, with impossible to measure but unmistakable political ramifications, both positive and negative.

The redoubtable James Dorsey’s Turbulent World of Middle Eastern Soccer blog has been an invaluable resource on how soccer, soccer politics and dynamics, and soccer fans have been harbingers, barometers and, sometimes even, key factors and actors in Middle Eastern developments in recent years.

Everything from the role of Egypt’s “ultras” football hooligans in the various uprisings and protests in the country, to Qatar’s fraught (and, it would seem, increasingly implausible) bid to host the 2022 World Cup, demonstrates that soccer has a significant socio-political, and at times economic, impact in the contemporary Arab world.

Historically around the world sports, and soccer in particular, have often been seen as metaphors for national identity, reassertion or reemergence, or, alternatively, as a vehicle for sub-national tensions or interstate rivalries that have sometimes boiled over into conflict.

In Spain, Catalans and Basques have relied on soccer as a vehicle for expressing their unique identity, sometimes in an aggressive and hostile manner to traditional Castilian dominance. The first harbingers of open warfare in the former Yugoslavia came in soccer stadiums. Anyone paying attention to the chanting could not have been surprised by the various Balkan wars, including the war in Kosovo.

There are almost endless examples of how historically and throughout the world soccer has both both a uniting and inspiring force, and a means of confirming national and subnational identity groups and expressing tensions between them.

In 1969, a brief but bitter armed conflict — La guerra del fútbol (“the soccer war”) — erupted between Honduras and El Salvador. It wasn’t actually caused by the rioting following a highly contentious World Cup qualifying match, as many mistakenly think, but those tensions were the breaking point for a whole series of pre-existing disputes, largely involving territory, population and the treatment of Salvadorans living and working in Honduras.

In the case of Libya, however, the operative examples are more likely to be the way in which major soccer victories have reinforced national identities with direct, and often stabilizing and uniting, effects.

It was famously, and perhaps exaggeratedly, observed that, “Other countries have their history. Uruguay has its football.” But there’s no doubting the astonishing successes tiny, otherwise undistinguished, Uruguay had, stunning the world by winning the 1924 and 1928 Olympics, and then the first World Cup in 1930 and again by beating mighty Brazil in the 1950 final in Rio de Janeiro, has had a mightily disproportionate positive influence on Uruguayan identity and national pride.

There is also little doubt that Argentina’s first World Cup victory in 1978 gave the ruling military junta a new lease on political life and extended their rule for several years. Indeed, many of the players involved in that triumph have since expressed regret that a dictatorship fighting a “dirty war” against political opposition was able to benefit from their success. It may have left a bitter taste in many mouths over the long run, but in its immediate context Argentina’s victory was galvanizing and unifying.

It would be naïve to think that the Libyan team’s brilliant triumph is a turning point in that country’s post-dictatorship future. It cannot be a panacea to its most serious woes, or even a solution to any of them. It may indeed prove a mere blip in the unfolding Libyan saga. But it would also be naïve and, indeed, ahistorical, to dismiss the possibility that Libyans just got an invaluable reaffirmation of national unity, identity and confidence at a crucial point, when all of them are under profound threat. Take it seriously.