America’s Middle East Envoy Denies the Middle East Exists—What Does This Mean for U.S. Policy?
In an extraordinary interview, U.S. Special Envoy Tom Barrack has declared that “there is no such thing as the Middle East,” raising fundamental questions about American diplomatic strategy in one of the world’s most volatile regions.
A Century of Artificial Boundaries
Barrack’s statement to Al Jazeera touches on a historical reality that has shaped modern geopolitics: the arbitrary drawing of Middle Eastern borders by European powers. The 1916 Sykes-Picot Agreement, secretly negotiated between Britain and France during World War I, carved up the Ottoman Empire’s Arab provinces with little regard for ethnic, tribal, or religious boundaries. These colonial-era decisions created states like Iraq, Syria, Lebanon, and Jordan—nations that combined diverse and sometimes antagonistic groups under single flags.
The envoy’s framing of the region as “tribes and villages” rather than coherent nation-states echoes a longstanding debate among Middle East scholars. Many argue that the region’s persistent conflicts stem partly from the mismatch between imposed political boundaries and organic social structures. From Lebanon’s sectarian power-sharing system to Iraq’s Kurdish-Arab-Sunni-Shia tensions, the legacy of artificial state-building continues to complicate governance and fuel instability.
Diplomatic Implications of Denying Regional Identity
For a senior U.S. diplomat to publicly question the very existence of the “Middle East” as a coherent region represents a potentially significant shift in American foreign policy thinking. This perspective could signal a move away from one-size-fits-all regional strategies toward more localized, granular approaches to diplomacy. If Barrack’s view reflects broader administration thinking, we might expect to see U.S. policy increasingly bypass traditional state structures in favor of direct engagement with tribal leaders, local councils, and sub-state actors.
However, this approach carries substantial risks. While acknowledging the region’s complex tribal and ethnic mosaic might seem more realistic, it could also be perceived as undermining the sovereignty of existing states. Arab governments, many of which have spent decades building national institutions and identities, may view such rhetoric as neo-colonial—an attempt to fragment and weaken their authority. This could paradoxically push these states closer to American rivals like China and Russia, who tend to emphasize state sovereignty in their diplomatic approach.
The Power of Names and Narratives
Beyond immediate policy implications, Barrack’s statement raises profound questions about how we conceptualize and discuss global regions. The term “Middle East” itself is a Western construct, originating from a British imperial perspective that positioned the region relative to Europe. Yet over the past century, this label has taken on its own meaning, becoming part of how millions of people understand their place in the world.
By dismissing the Middle East as a fiction, Barrack may be attempting to break free from failed paradigms and approach the region with fresh eyes. But he also risks appearing tone-deaf to the real regional connections—linguistic, cultural, economic, and political—that bind these societies together despite their differences. The Arab League, the Gulf Cooperation Council, and countless civil society networks testify to genuine regional consciousness that transcends colonial-era borders.
If America’s top envoy to the region doesn’t believe the Middle East exists, how can the United States craft coherent policies for the hundreds of millions who call it home?
