Tony Blair's comments last week were a sad reminder of much of what is wrong with our approach to the Middle East. After first suggesting that the root of twenty-first century conflict lies in religious extremism, the former prime minister went one step further by backing the military rule of General Abdel Fatah al-Sisi in Egypt, and then condemning the Muslim Brotherhood and its leader Mohamed Morsi.

As a historian of the Middle East, my gripe doesn't concern Blair's religious sentiments, although his shameless distortion of world affairs and global conflicts as a means to rally support for the Tony Blair Faith Foundation left a bitter taste as I read Saturday's Observer column. What pains me is the perpetuation of the same tired script which treats religious extremism as a phenomenon that exists within a historical vacuum.

Perhaps my preoccupation with the past, as well as my familial ties to the Middle East, will always draw me to a discussion of the longue durée and the region's colonial history. But is it too much to ask for a critical analysis of how religious extremism (in the modern sense of the term) has come about? What conditions have precipitated an awareness of a highly politicised form of religion, used as a means to implement political and social change? Why do large groups of people seek solace in the teachings of religion as the remedy for their social ills? In the Middle East specifically, why the distinction between secular authoritarianism and religious political opposition? Why the 'democracy-gap'?

In Egypt the murky dynamic between religion, politics and Western intervention is particularly noticeable.

For over two centuries the Middle East has been characterised by the attempts of its rulers to adopt foreign institutions. Inhabitants are urged to practice Western patterns of consumption that often seem to contradict Islamic mores. During the 1970s and 80s, Egypt 'opened up' to the West, with substantial American loans and support from the IMF and World Bank. But the fruits of this interaction are scarcely visible today. Poverty, hunger, a lack of arable land, extreme inequality, repression and a lack of opportunities are the by-products of that transfer. Through the course of the twentieth century, the failure of imported, secular models to bring economic progress, political freedoms or social justice has directly contributed to the revival of Islam.

Middle Eastern leaders often co-opted religion as a means of maintaining legitimacy and consolidating power. When Anwar Sadat assumed the Egyptian presidency in 1970, his biggest fear came from elements of the political left, remnants of the Arab socialism espoused by his predecessor, Gamal Abdel Nasser. To counter this threat he allowed representatives of 'Islamic tendency' to return to the political arena. As the Muslim Brotherhood was allowed to grow under the watchful eye of Sadat's regime, the reality was that all other forms of political association, particularly secular left-leaning groups, were barred from the political process.

In the background, the United States, Britain and a host of other nations bolstered the Sadat regime, and Mubarak his successor, with arms and development loans that have continually been used against those that dare to question the legitimacy of the state. It comes as no surprise, then, that Egypt is now caught in a struggle between the authoritarianism of a secular military leader and the Islamism of the Muslim Brotherhood. Other forms of political association have been obstructed, and continue to be so today.

Politicians, media outlets and even academic institutions have been characteristically silent on this failed transfer between East and West. When we talk of the conflict today in Syria, or the protests of the Arab Spring, little mention is made of the international efforts that have propped up the long rule of the Middle East's most fearsome rulers. Our memories are so fickle that we forget the very real plans to give Bashir al-Assad an honorary knighthood in 2002.

When the Mubarak regime fell in 2012 few commentators outside the Middle East cared to shine a light on the thirty years in which the US, Britain and others knowingly prevented the promotion of democracy by endorsing the rule of an authoritarian dictator. Herein lies my frustration: why point towards religious extremism when the issues of unemployment, dictatorship, corruption and state violence under the Middle East’s most repressive regimes are blatantly obvious?

But what more can we expect when a foreign policy that continues to buttress brutal autocrats as a means of preserving 'stability in the region' proves so effective? Why place your trust and lucrative interests into the volatile quagmire of the democratic process, particularly when it can all be placed in the hands of one man, or one regime? Why blame old friends when the abstract concept of religion can be such a powerful scapegoat?

Perhaps taking up residence among the wealthiest Arab inhabitants of Edgware Road has made the former prime minister a little out of touch with the realities facing the majority of Middle Easterners today. Let's hope the Tony Blair Faith Foundation, "whose aim is to promote greater knowledge and understanding between people of different faiths", can provide its students with a little lesson in history as well. I wouldn't pray for it.