The final week of last month marked two years since the longtime Yemeni vice president, Abdrabu Mansur Hadi, took power as part of an internationally mediated power transfer deal aimed at resolving a year-long anti-government uprising against his predecessor, Ali Abdullah Saleh.
Mr Hadi came to power roughly a year after the start of nationwide protests, which succeeded in spurring the overthrow of Mr Hadi but also allowed long-simmering tensions to burst to the fore.
The bulk of government institutions were racked by defections, while the country’s military split in to warring camps.
As the government’s control over much of the country dissipated, the Zaidi Shia Houthi rebels – the target of six brutal wars under Mr Saleh – gained the upper hand in their strongholds in the northern province of Saada, while Al Qaeda-affiliated militants seized control of the province of Abyan, including Mr Hadi’s birthplace.
The economy, already weak, was brought to the brink of collapse, spiking unemployment and leaving millions of already impoverished Yemenis on the brink of starvation.
The exact date that Mr Hadi formally became the man given the task of dealing with these issues is a matter of debate. Strictly speaking, February 25 saw his inauguration. But some prefer to start the presidency on February 27, which saw Mr Saleh formally hand over power to his longtime deputy in a ceremony held at the presidential palace.
The government itself tends to put it at February 21, the date of Mr Hadi’s election, of sorts, in a one-candidate vote.
This itself is rather telling. February 21’s referendum-like poll epitomised efforts to provide Mr Hadi with a modicum of legitimacy.
There was some success as Yemenis hopeful that Mr Hadi’s presidency would lead to a return to calm turned out in higher than expected numbers, but boycotts by youth activists, the Houthis and southern separatists signalled larger challenges facing the president, bolstering cynical appraisals casting the whole thing as merely thinly veiled political theatre.
As Mr Hadi took the oath of office in the Yemeni parliament two days later, the roots of his rise to power were plainly visible. His audience – a cross-section of the country’s political elites – gestured to his unique position as a figure acceptable to the two groups who inked the power transfer agreement that lead to Saleh’s exit from power, the former president’s party, the General People’s Congress (GPC) and the Joint Meeting Parties (JMP), a coalition of establishment opposition factions.
Mr Hadi delivered a blunt speech cataloguing the challenges facing the country, the first time the spotlight had fallen on him during his long political career. For while Mr Hadi had been Yemen’s vice president for a decade and a half, he was still a virtual unknown.
The general outline of his biography – his birth in the southern province of Abyan, his military background, his flight to the north after falling on the losing side of the People’s Democratic Republic of Yemen’s 1986 Civil War, his decision to side with Saleh during the south’s attempt to stop Yemen’s nascent unity in 1994 – were common knowledge.
But his reputation, if anything, was largely rooted in his silence. His regular appearances next to Mr Saleh during the former president’s speeches lead many Yemenis to jokingly refer to him as “the statue”. And, at the time, expectations from Mr Hadi had more to do with Yemenis’ hopes and fears regarding the country’s future than the man himself.
Mr Hadi’s key victory has been his ability to demonstrate that he is, indeed, his own man.
His 17 years of public silence and apparent complacence as Mr Saleh’s deputy had fuelled doubts about whether he would be able to break free of his predecessor’s influence.
But Mr Hadi has proven willing to take on the former president’s allies, removing powerful members of the Saleh family from key posts in a series of steps aimed at restructuring the Yemeni Armed Forces. To the consternation of some fellow members of the GPC, Mr Hadi has managed to position himself as a figure independent of Yemen’s pre-2012 political divisions.
Still, many Yemenis continue to criticise him as a weak leader. In some sense, it’s a side effect of an otherwise positive aspect of his nature. Those close to Mr Hadi cast him as a careful, methodical decision-maker, deeply reluctant to act without a great degree of thought and deliberation.
At the same time, it remains the case that the Yemeni government lacks any semblance of a monopoly on power.
Both members of Mr Saleh’s inner circle and figures such as regime strongman-turned-defector General Ali Mohsen retain a great deal of power, regardless of their current positions. The central government’s hold on much of the country remains fragile to nonexistent. Mr Hadi – and, by extension, the Yemeni government itself – often appears to act as negotiator-in-chief, treating consensus brokering as a virtual prerequisite rather than relying on the power of his office alone.
This is arguably a double-edged sword – many of those who wish Mr Hadi were stronger direct their anger at those seen as undermining him, rather than the president himself.
Still, as long as the security vacuum continues to breed violence and stifle the economy, resentment will inevitably mount.
Mr Hadi’s continued backing from key western and Arab actors has brought Yemen financial support, but it has also served as a subtle reminder that an internationally-brokered accord – for better or worse, an act of foreign intervention – was what brought Mr Hadi to power. His most acerbic critics have cast the president as a tool for foreign interests.
Regardless, the greatest challenges facing the president – and Yemen itself – are far from Sanaa. Despite efforts towards inclusion, the Houthis in the north retain a deep ambivalence regarding the central government – and clashes spurred by the group’s rising strength have fuelled fears of a wider conflict.
In the formerly independent south, calls for secession have only grown louder, as the government has proved unable to build goodwill. Any efforts have been stymied by civilian casualties in clashes with secessionist fighters – most notably, in the town of Al Dhale – and periodic crackdowns on pro-secessionist protests.
Only a fraction of separatist factions participated in the recently concluded National Dialogue, and many of the most powerful pulled out before the conference’s conclusion. Even if they’ve rejected the final decisions of the committee asked to sketch it out, Yemen’s recently announced shift to a federal system could provide the means for reckoning with the grievances of both groups.
If things remain unresolved, it is hard to believe that tensions won’t continue to build, threatening further conflict, if not Yemen’s split to pre-unification borders.
Mr Hadi may have confounded many Yemenis’ expectations, and he certainly retains a great degree of popular support. But the many challenges he inherited remain unresolved, and the ultimate fate of Mr Hadi’s presidency remains unclear.
Standing next to Mr Saleh on February 27, 2012, Mr Hadi stated that he aimed to similarly transfer power to his successor in two years time, during parliamentary and presidential elections this year
This, perhaps, provides the key irony of Mr Hadi’s presidency. When he came to office, the question was whether he’d survive. Today, the uncertainty centres around when he will eventually leave.
Adam Baron is a Sanaa-based journalist who reports regularly for the Christian Science Monitor, the Economist and McClatchy Newspapers
On Twitter: @adammbaron
