Middle East militaries can be arrayed along a continuum from more to less involvement in national economies, albeit with a few outliers. At the maximum engagement end are Egypt and Iran. In both countries, as in Pakistan, one can reasonably refer to the existence of a “Military, Inc.” The Egyptian Ministry of Defense and its subordinate Ministry of Military Production preside over a sprawling economic empire that directly owns companies active in the industrial, agricultural, construction, telecommunications, and service sectors. The Iranian Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps presides over a similar economic empire that has particularly strong positions in the oil field service, construction, port operation, and media and telecommunications sectors. Both countries also have what might be described as parallel “officer economies.” These have come into existence as a result of officers, many of them retired, capitalizing on their regime connections by gaining ownership of privatized state-owned enterprises or by forming companies that thrive on state contracts. These two military economies are subject neither to the effective oversight of legislative or nonmilitary executive authority nor to the scrutiny of civil society, including the media. Both provide essential patronage resources to ensure the loyalty of their officer corps. And in both countries, military preparedness and overall capacities suffer as a result of preoccupation with the management of and benefits from military economies.

Occupying the next position along the military-in-the-economy continuum are Sudan and Syria. Essentially junior versions of Egypt and Iran, their subordinate status results primarily from the fact that their economies are less developed, so the opportunities for military enterprises are necessarily fewer. Neither Sudan nor Syria has an industrial base, international trade volume, or extensive infrastructure comparable to that of Egypt or Iran. The Sudanese and Syrian military economies tend to be concentrated in areas most directly related to military needs and capacities (besides those of armaments), including construction, agriculture, and food processing. Sudanese and Syrian officers, like their counterparts in Egypt and Iran, have become increasingly active in their countries’ growing private sectors, benefiting as they do from social capital accumulated in the military. Syrian officers also extend their personal influence directly into the civilian economy, providing protection, licenses, access, and other services in exchange for commissions. As in Egypt and Iran, the primary purpose of institutional military economies and tolerance of officer penetration of the economy in Syria and Sudan is to ensure the loyalty of officers.

Algeria does not have a corporate military economy in the same sense as the above four countries nor apparently is its “officer economy” as well developed. This is not because the military is disinterested in economic affairs. If anything, the penetration of the Algerian economy by high-ranking officers, known as “the deciders,” is at least as thoroughgoing as in Syria. The networks appear to be yet more prolific, subterranean, and extensive, with Algerian officers preferring the murky world of deals and side payments to the somewhat more institutionalized form that an “officer economy” represents. This results both from the fact that Algeria has a more oil-based, rentier economy than Syria and from the former's comparatively fragmented political elite, which favors quick, illicit deals over institutionalized companies as the surer means of making profits.

Turkey may be thought of as next along the continuum, although its military economy is qualitatively different from those mentioned previously. It is large and diverse but institutionally separated from the military itself, because its enterprises are owned principally through the vehicle of the military's pension fund. The military procures needed goods and services primarily from civilian-owned Turkish companies, whereas the previously discussed militaries typically purchase from military- and officer-owned businesses. Ownership of enterprises by the pension fund and the existence of a military-industrial complex (in contrast to a straight-out Military, Inc.) isolate the Turkish military economy from the Ministry of Defense and active duty officers, thereby reducing the deleterious consequences for military proficiency suffered by the Egyptian, Iranian, Sudanese, and Syrian militaries. The renumeration of Turkish officers is also comparatively generous, so they are less in need of supplements to their salaries and pensions than their counterparts in these other militaries. Loyalty is based on professional norms, not patronage.

Countries with somewhat less military engagement in the economy as measured in strictly financial terms are the monarchies of Jordan, Oman, and Morocco, in descending order of engagement. The type of involvement also differs. It primarily takes the form of intermittent, discretionary patronage doled out to officers by kings anxious to retain their loyalty. These militaries lack corporate economic interests even though individual officers receive shares in privatized companies, serve on boards and state committees, and benefit financially in other ways for their service and loyalty.

The final category is of militaries least involved in economies and includes those of Saudi Arabia, the remainder of the Gulf Cooperation Council (GCC) countries (excluding Oman), and Tunisia. Unlike the monarchies in the previous category, the GCC states in this group are family-based dynasties where control of the military is exercised effectively by and through those families, and thus the need for supplemental patronage is less. They also benefit from richer economies and can provide more generous salaries and better conditions for military officers. Some of these militaries also include mercenaries who, by definition, do not exercise autonomous economic power. Tunisia's military was essentially placed on ice by former President Bin ʿAli—and was weak even under Bourguiba—so it had no access to significant resources even of a strictly military variety.

Finally, several outliers cannot be arrayed on the continuum: Israel, Lebanon, and Iraq. Israel does not have a military economy; it has a military-industrial complex similar to that of the United States. Interpenetration of military industries and the officer corps is commonplace, but it is not an important factor in underpinning military loyalty, and its ownership structure does not impact the military's performance. Although companies owned and staffed by former officers are numerous, they typically market their goods and services to domestic and foreign clients rather than or in addition to the Israeli Defense Forces. Israel's military-industrial economy is not financially parasitic nor is it a tool by which the government ensures loyalty of the officer corps. The Lebanese military has had too discontinuous a history and too much penetration by outside influences for its officers to develop a military or officer economy. Iraq's military economy under Saddam Husayn was similar to that of Sudan and Syria, but little remains of it because whatever national economic power exists has been gathered into the hands of the country's sectarian leadership.

Among the theoretically interesting insights suggested by this array of militaries along a continuum of economic involvement is the negative correlation between such involvement and both military professionalism and civilian control. This implies that if the Arab uprisings of 2011 ultimately subordinate armed forces to civilian institutions, then they will necessarily also expel militaries from economies, thereby creating appropriate conditions for enhancing military professionalism and performance, to say nothing of removing a major obstacle to more rapid national economic growth.