Never in the modern history of the Middle East have so many countries experienced such intense, often violent, domestic conflict or political paralysis.

The ongoing wars or severe ideological confrontations in Syria, Iraq, Yemen, Libya, Somalia, Lebanon, Egypt, Sudan and Bahrain have sparked a new industry in explaining what is really going on in the region – such as Sykes-Picot-crafted artificial borders collapsing, Shiite-Sunni or Saudi Arabian-Iranian tensions, or both, sparking proxy wars, or failed state-centered nationalism being replaced by sectarian identities.

Turmoil and violence are most evident in the inability of formal governance institutions to achieve credible power-sharing or even serious consultations on decisive issues. In some countries, this has led to clashes or terror attacks, leading to near national collapse in a few cases (Syria, Somalia, Libya and Iraq).

Even when serious attempts are made to establish formal pluralistic and democratic institutions of governance, progress remains spotty at best. We see this now in the Libyan, Egyptian, Lebanese, Iraqi, Syrian and Yemeni endeavors to create new constitutions, parliaments and governments, or elect new presidents. Otherwise rational men and women cannot hammer out agreements on fair power-sharing, representation, decision-making and accountability.

Central government positions, like cabinet posts, often become vehicles for different sectarian or ethnic groups to gain a share of power and the resources of the central state, which they then share with their own people in the form of jobs, contracts and other benefits. If one or more parties do not get what they feel is their share of power, they withdraw and shut down the system – as has happened in Lebanon for years – or they take to the streets and sometimes take up arms – as we are witnessing in Yemen with Houthi pressure on the government.

The baffling thing is the contrast between this immaturity, violence and immobilization in the conduct of the affairs of state and the deeper tradition of ethnic or religious groups getting along just fine in their daily lives at the local level. Sunnis and Shiites, Christians and Muslims, Kurds, Amazigh and Arabs, or any other combination of citizens of different identities have cooperated, inter-married, shared businesses and coexisted respectfully for centuries at the community level all around the region, and this is still the pattern defining most communities not wrecked by war.

This happens because each individual respects the ethnic-sectarian identity, values and rights of his or her neighbor who has a different identity. They also cooperate easily on matters in the public sphere that require them to work together for the common good. A typical example is what I experienced in my own life for 27 years living in Amman, Jordan, as a Christian in a Muslim-majority society. On major Islamic holidays such as Adha and Fitr, we would visit our Muslim neighbors to wish them the best, drink coffee, eat a sweet, ask about the family’s well-being, and say how much we enjoyed seeing our children play football in the street every afternoon after school. They would do the same by visiting us at Christmas and Easter, with identical rituals of food, drink, greetings and neighborly good wishes. This was often the only regular interaction we had, other than friendly greetings during our comings and goings.

The mutual messages were clear, and very meaningful. Though we had different personal identities, we recognized and honored the identity, values and rights of our neighbors, with whom we repeatedly and ritually expressed our mutual desire to coexist in equality, friendship and peace – not just in the realm of tolerance, but going beyond that to mutual solidarity that would see us protect each other in times of need.

This kind of fraternal coexistence crossed all possible lines, such as Muslim-Christian, Palestinian-Jordanian, Arab-Druze-Armenian-Circassian, and any other such identities. It also translates all around the Arab region into millions of mixed marriages, business partnerships, friendships at school, and cultural-artistic collaborations.

But when it comes to the business of governance – electing a new Lebanese president, agreeing to parliamentary and constitutional advances in Yemen and Libya, defining who can participate in public politics in Egypt, reforming the parliamentary system in Kuwait or Bahrain – these traditions of communal mutual respect and coexistence break down.

There seems to be a huge disconnect between the solid values of ordinary people in the Arab world in their family and community lives, and the dysfunctional and often violent conduct of political leaders who represent these same citizens nationally. This suggests a strong case for much more decentralized governance systems that anchor power more at the regional and local levels, without concentrating assets and arms in the hands of central governments that have often abused that power in modern Arab states.