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Kuwait’s shifting tides

by Raymond Barrett
for Open Democracy

The arrival of women on Kuwait’s political stage is matched in significance by the quiet rise of Islamists, says Raymond Barrett.

On 29 June 2006, the people of Kuwait went to the polls to elect fifty deputies to sit in the country’s Majlis al-Ummah (national assembly). What made this day historic – and justly received widespread international media attention – was that women were able to participate for the first time, both as candidates and voters. But the election outcome was as striking (though less reported) as the process: for while not a single woman managed to gain a seat in the assembly, the victors included the “Islamist bloc” of MPs, many of whom had opposed the parliamentary vote to grant suffrage to women in May 2005. Welcome to democracy, Kuwaiti-style.

The landmark ruling that politically enfranchised Kuwaiti women is a reflection of profound demographic shifts in the country; no less than 57% of Kuwaiti voters were women. But the opening of politics to women, which has transformed the appearance of political campaigning in the country, has also had effects that western advocates of equality might find unexpected. In particular, it has obliged existing political groups specifically to address issues that appeal to and concern the feminine majority; and some of the most effective in doing this were the Islamic Constitutional Movement (Kuwait’s incarnation of the Muslim Brotherhood) and the Salafists – movements that advocate Kuwait’s embrace of a more rigid version of Islamic teaching as the basis for defining the laws of the state.

Raymond Barrett is an Irish journalist working with the Kuwait Times. He has also written on middle-east affairs for the Beirut-based The Daily Star and Ireland’s Sunday Business Post .

Also by Raymond Barrett in openDemocracy:

Iran through Arab eyes” (10 May 2006)

Kuwait’s political turmoil” (31 May 2006)

The election itself was the consequence of the surprise dissolution of parliament by the head of state, Emir Sabah al-Ahmad al-Sabah, after a clash over the issue of electoral reform between the sixteen-member cabinet (appointed by the emir) and a group of twenty-nine assembly members (many Islamists among them).

The particular argument that sparked the dispute was a draft law to reduce the number of constituencies in the country from twenty-five to ten. The dissident MPs protested that this was a surrogate for centralisation of power and the disenfranchisement of the non-urban Kuwaiti majority they mostly represented (see “Kuwait’s political turmoil“, 31 May 2006). The government’s failure to heed the assembly members’ own proposals led to a coalescence of unlikely political allies (liberal and Islamist MPs, youth and student groups) who embraced the label of a “reform” or “opposition” movement.

As a result, the question of changes to Kuwait’s electoral and political system became a major topic in the brief election campaign that followed the dissolution, and there were widespread allegations that state coffers were being used to fund pro-government groups. Two other issues – corruption (including the evergreen Kuwaiti tradition of vote-buying) , and foreign shareholding in the oil industry – dominated the campaign. But a number of candidates on all sides also made strenuous effort to portray themselves as champions of women’s rights, and promised to back a wide range of “pro-woman” legislation. The very presence of women at the centre of Kuwaiti politics thus had a tangible effect on the way the campaign was conducted.

A space for women

The pledges candidates made included the repeal of a law preventing a Kuwaiti woman who marries a non-Kuwait national passing on her nationality (and the financial privilege that comes with it) to her children. There were also suggestions that state benefits for divorced and widowed women should be increased, and the number of years women would have to work before earning a retirement pension should be reduced (from twenty to fifteen years). But the “woman-centred agenda” articulated by many Islamist candidates generally focused on reinforcing the traditional role of women as child-rearers and homemakers, rather than as active participants in the public realm.

This conscious appeal by candidates from Kuwait’s Islamist and tribal traditions (which often overlap) required some flexibility in reaching out to women voters. In many parts of Kuwait, it is unacceptable (outside of formal environments such as work) for a man to approach women who are unrelated to him, especially if it were done without due discretion or respect for tradition. A member of the campaign team of one Islamist candidate in Kuwait’s southern “tribal heartlands” told me: “It is not our tradition to talk to women, but we have selected educated women to go and visit (women) in their homes”. He repeatedly stressed the educational level of candidates and campaign staff alike as a key element in the ability to target potential women voters.

This greater inclusion extended to the architecture of the campaign. The “campaign tent” is one of the defining symbols of politicking in Kuwait: an elaborate, hugely expensive, ornately-upholstered – and traditionally all-male – environment, where voters visit after the evening ishaa prayer to meet and listen to their preferred candidates while being served fine food. It is a place where candidates use generosity to display their prominence and standing in the community. This time, women were – within limits – invited to participate in what one aspirant assembly-member referred to as the “democratic wedding”.

In areas of Kuwait close to the modern capital, men and women sat on different sides of the room – or were divided by a partition – while jointly attending some campaign functions. Some Islamist MPs held election evenings exclusively for women (one candidate who had opposed female suffrage held twice as many “women-only” gatherings than male ones).

The final results suggest that the Islamists’ efforts paid off. But the election had a mixed impact on Kuwaiti women candidates and voters. The suddenness of its announcement caught many female candidates unprepared, and unable in time to mount an effective campaign. During it, some of them had their election posters and placards defaced. When it had ended, only a handful of the twenty-eight female candidates (out of a total of 253) received a significant number of votes; the best performance was around 10% of the vote in a few districts – far below the threshold needed to win a seat.

One defeated candidate, Aisha al-Rushaid, was philosophical. The election was part of an essential learning-curve, she said: “It was a good experience (which) we learned from, but circumstances were not aligned in favour of women”. But there have also been recriminations over the failure of any female candidates to win a seat; some Kuwaiti women accused women voters of following the instructions of their male relatives and supporting candidates opposed to their right to vote.

Badrya Darwish commented in the Kuwait Times: “Even some candidates who stood against women’s rights in parliament made it this time on the backs of women. I call this a betrayal. Women betrayed their sisters.” Kuwait’s women have entered the democracy tent, but they have yet to make it their own.

Kuwait’s political turmoil

by Raymond Barrett
The dissolution of Kuwait’s parliament and the calling of early elections reflect developing social and economic fissures in the Gulf emirate, says Raymond Barrett.

The dismissal of Kuwait’s parliament on 21 May 2006 by the country’s emir, Sheikh Sabah al-Ahmad al-Sabah, brought an abrupt end to an unusually stormy week both in and outside the building. Overnight demonstrations outside the assembly by youth activists were followed by a walkout by twenty-nine of the body’s fifty members of parliament during a crucial vote on electoral reform.

The emir responded by announcing in a televised address to the nation that he was using his powers under Article 107 of Kuwait’s 1962 constitution to dissolve the assembly and call new elections (previously scheduled for summer 2007) for 29 June 2006. It was “a difficult decision that I had never wanted to take”, the emir said, adding that “it was necessary to preserve national unity.”

The ostensible reason for the assembly’s dissolution – the fourth time this has occurred since the institution was founded in 1963 – was the MPs’ failure to reach agreement on a draft electoral law to reduce the number of electoral constituencies from twenty-five to ten. However, the argument over electoral reform was also a conduit for three other issues that had increased tension between opposition groups, MPs, and the government. First, the government-appointed cabinet had insisted that electoral reform was necessary to curb corruption and create a more open electoral culture, while assembly members in turn threw accusations of corruption at cabinet ministers.

Second, the move that appears to have sealed the dissolution was a request by three MPs to interrogate the prime minister, Sheikh Nasser al-Mohammed al-Sabah, a nephew of the emir. Such so-called “grillings” are part of Kuwait’s parliamentary procedure, and the barrage of questions from MPs often become heated and potentially embarrassing affairs for cabinet ministers. However, this was the first time in the assembly’s history that a prime minister was to be “grilled”, and even Kuwait’s current reform-minded administration was not prepared to accept that a senior member of the ruling family would be subjected to the treatment.

Third, the nature of parliamentary politics in Kuwait feeds the present dispute. This is dominated by a number of interest groups, often based on religious or tribal affiliations connected to particular geographic areas in the territory.

The term “tribal” here refers to the descendants of nomadic Bedouin tribes from the borderlands between present-day Kuwait and Saudi Arabia, who now form majorities in outlying areas of the country. As a result, candidates in these electoral districts are practically unassailable, as the candidates will have been “anointed” by tribal leaders before any ballot. Moreover, the current twenty-five-district system has allowed for vote-buying targeted at the relatively small number of voters in some electoral constituencies. The government had vowed to eliminate this practice with its reform bill.

In marked contrast to the population of these tribal areas are the hadhar (city-dwellers), the descendants of Kuwait’s first settlers in the 18th and 19th centuries. Wealthier, more influential, and more educated than their tribal counterparts, the hadhar would have gained significantly by the proposed changes to the electoral law. For example, 16,600 hadhar voters in one district would elect six MPs, while 49,650 tribal voters would elect the same number of MPs in another. The Kuwait Times quoted the MP Saleh Ashour dismissing the government’s electoral changes at a public gathering outside the assembly on 20 May: “The government bill is unfair and racist. It discriminates between Kuwaitis. It gives 70,000 Kuwaiti voters twenty MPs and the remaining 250,000 thirty MPs. Is this fair?” he asked.

These differences in voter representation have helped to generate intense popular dissent, a phenomenon rarely seen in Kuwait. For once, many disparate elements in Kuwaiti society (Islamists, liberal reformers and youth movements) found some common ground on which to stand, making this opposition movement a more potent force than the government anticipated. The student groups who demonstrated outside the national-assembly building were supported by many MPs; the local media also weighed in on the issue with many commentators labelling the government’s proposal as blatant gerrymandering.

The cycles of reform

Kuwait has received much praise from western governments in the last year for its social reforms. 29 June will be the first parliamentary election that Kuwaiti women can both contest as candidates and vote in. Kuwaiti women were finally granted the right to vote in 2005, after various coalitions in the national (and all-male) assembly had blocked previous attempts by the former emir Sheikh Jaber al-Ahmad al-Sabah (a half-brother of the current monarch) to enfranchise women in the country.

This is one example of how the ruling family, many of whom attend private schools staffed by western teachers and go to universities in Britain or the United States, are often more “liberal” than many sections of the Kuwaiti population. This is further evinced by the fact many female members of the al-Sabah and hadhar families eschew the traditional black coverings such as the abaya and hijab, which are commonly worn by female members of tribal or Islamist families.

Sheikh Sabah, the current emir, has been in power for only five months, following the sudden death of Sheikh Jaber. Already he has already introduced a host of reforms in the areas that appeal to Kuwait’s western allies, from international investment in the oil industry to human rights. Sheikh Sabah was Kuwait’s foreign minister for forty years, served as prime minister from 2003-06 and has a reputation of being a pragmatic reformer. However, such reforms have limits, especially when they affect the power relationship between the parliament and the ruling family.

Two aspects of Kuwait’s current political tumult, then, are notable: the impulse to reform, and resistance to reform. The imbalances revealed by the proposed electoral law are indicative of a broader gap within Kuwaiti society, where a small number of individuals have greater access to wealth, privilege and career advancement than the rest of society.

The divisions that exist within Gulf societies are often simplified for western audiences – conservative Islamic groups versus liberal reformers. The political acrimony in Kuwait reveals the reality to be much more complicated. There, as elsewhere in the Gulf, religious and political beliefs are both qualified and overlain by other factors that should receive at least equal attention: social class and inclusion, and access to economic and political power.

Iran through Arab eyes

by Raymond Barrett
The Tehran regime’s fiery rhetoric and strategic ambitions impact strongly on its Arab neighbours, explains Raymond Barrett in Kuwait.

Since the 1979 overthrow of the Shah, Mohammed Reza Pahlavi, the Islamic Republic of Iran has had a fractious relationship with other countries in the middle east. Twenty-seven years on, the idea that Iran under its hardline president Mahmoud Ahmadinejad may be seeking nuclear weapons will only be viewed with suspicion by Arab governments across the region.

For numerous reasons, Tehran has the power to unnerve its neighbours. The concept of a republic – in which figures such as supreme leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei and Ahmadinejad himself assume power on merit or by popular vote – is alien to the potentates and hereditary rulers in countries where elections either are not held or are not contested: Egypt, Libya, Jordan, Syria, Saudi Arabia and the other Gulf states.

When Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomenei’s revolution threatened to export his brand of Islamic republicanism to the rest of the middle east, Iran became public enemy number one. The fact that Khomenei’s was a Shi’a-based ideology would have particularly irked the Saudi royal family, given their symbiotic relationship over the years with Sunni ideologues and the national adherence to Wahhabism, the brand of Islam taught by the 18th century preacher Mohammad ibn Abdulwahhab. When Saddam Hussein launched his “whirlwind war” against Iran in 1980, therefore, Iraq’s doomed endeavour was supported by many governments in the region.

Those ruling families saw direct threats to their own authority in events such as the Iraqi-based, Iranian-backed group al-Dawa’s 1985 assassination attempt on the emir of Kuwait, Sheikh Jaber al-Ahmed al-Sabah, and riots by Iranian pilgrims in Mecca during the 1987 hajj. It is no surprise that Saudi Arabia and Kuwait were the two largest providers of aid to Iraq during its tortuous 1980-88 war with Iran.

Robert Fisk’s The Great War for Civilization: The Conquest of the Middle East details how Saudi Arabia presented Iraq with a $25-billion breakdown of the financial support it gave to Baghdad during the Iran-Iraq war. Kuwait still remembers its oil tankers and refineries being subjected to Iranian missile attacks after Iraq began the “tanker war” in the Gulf, when both sides targeted oil exports from the region.

The Shi’a factor

Despite the easing of Arab-Iranian relations in the 1990s, there are still those in the Arab world who believe that Iran is not yet finished “exporting” the revolution; and the sultans, emirs and kings of the Gulf will only feel more vulnerable if Iran has a nuclear device to back up its foreign-policy objectives. Thus, whatever international or American action is taken to stop Iran from “going nuclear” will definitely receive support in the region.

While the idea of a limited, conventional United States military strike against Iran’s nuclear assets would not be completely anathema to some governments, however, they know that the economic and security fallout from such a move would not be in their best interests. Most people in the middle east do not want military action taken against Iran, but are afraid that their governments are powerless to have any real say on the issue, in light of the overwhelming American influence in the region. Given the precarious security situation in Iraq at present, though, many people believe that US threats of military action against Iran are hollow.

Rattled by Iran’s republicanism, Arab governments also fear Tehran’s ability to speak directly to Shi’a minorities and other disenfranchised groups. Traditionally, the Shi’a have had to be content with a back seat in Gulf politics. That situation has undergone some serious revision since Saddam’s downfall, however. With Shi’a now in government in Iraq, Shi’a groups that traditionally avoided the political spotlight in neighbouring states are becoming less reticent about entering the public sphere. Arab rulers know that such groups can only be emboldened by a more regionally powerful Iran.

Egypt’s president Hosni Mubarak weighed in on the issue recently, provoking outrage when he questioned the loyalty of followers of the Shi’a faith to their homelands. “There are Shi’a in all these countries, significant percentages, and Shi’a are mostly always loyal to Iran and not the country where they live,” he said in an interview with Al-Arabiya, the Dubai-based, Saudi-owned news channel.

Such religious differences between Shi’a Iran and the predominantly Sunni Arab world will always be seen by some commentators as the defining element of their relationship. However, history has shown – in places as far afield as Sri Lanka, Northern Ireland and the former Yugoslavia – that sectarian conflict is usually a symptom of a deeper, more political struggle.

Sectarian difference will always be the default setting for extremists across the middle east, whenever they want to fan the flames of political conflict between the Arab and Persian worlds. But countries such as Kuwait are trying to ensure that religious differences do not become the defining element. Recently, a number of books by Saudi Sunni clerics were banned from an Islamic book fair in Kuwait, on the ground that they might foster sectarian tension.

The Arab dilemma

However, if there is to be increased rapprochement between Arab nations and Iran, a number of shifts will have to be made to promote better relations. Regional organisations such as the Arab League and the Gulf Cooperation Council (GCC) – both often derided as ineffectual – could open up communication channels with Tehran. By opening negotiations at such a level, the smaller Arab states would be able to approach such talks on a more equal footing.

Also, Iran still has ongoing territorial disputes with some of its neighbours, in particular its presence on a number of islands claimed by the United Arab Emirates. If Tehran were prepared to settle such issues, fears of Iranian expansionism could be assuaged somewhat.

Presently, the golden rule seems to be that the nearer a country is to Iran, the more diplomatic their choice of words when addressing the Iran’s nuclear program. At the latest GCC meeting in Riyadh, the organisation expressed its wish to see the region free of all weapons of mass destruction; yet, it remained diplomatic about how such a policy might be best achieved.

Other than offering diplomatic platitudes, there have been no concrete proposals from Arab governments toward finding a resolution, other than calls that Iran should comply with International Atomic Energy Agency (IAEA) recommendations. It is highly unlikely that Arab countries are ready to take on an active role in the peacemaking process between Iran and the US. Many of these smaller countries, like Qatar and Bahrain, are nervous about getting caught in the crossfire of an Iran-US conflict.

Governments in the region do not have a good record at mediating peaceful solutions to regional issues, and they tend to be reactive rather than proactive when crisis looms on the horizon, such as before the 1990 Iraqi invasion of Kuwait and the 2003 United States invasion of Iraq. It will take a monumental change in their collective point of view if they are to take on the role of peacemaker between Washington and Tehran.

If multilateral relations are to improve – the nuclear issue aside – Iran would have to stop “interfering” in the internal affairs of her neighbours. Kuwait formally complained to Tehran in the past when visiting Iranian diplomats met with Kuwaiti Shi’a political leaders. However, Iran’s considerable clout in a weakening Iraq seems set only to increase.

Haila Al-Mekaimi, the head of the Euro-Gulf Research Centre at Kuwait University believes that the region is returning to the “arms race” of the 1980s. “Wasting money on armaments has negatively affected development in the region,” she says. The Gulf states would like to see Iran take a more active role in such areas as regional economic development. Al-Mekaimi insisted that if Iran were to concentrate on internal, rather than regional issues, this would be one small step towards normalising relations. But taking that step would require a dramatic change of outlook in Tehran.

Al-Mekaimi remarks of Iran’s stagnant economy (albeit one boosted currently by enormous reveneues from high oil prices): “As a model to follow, it has failed the test.” She labelled Iran’s present strategy as antiquated in its failure to embrace the needs of the 21st century, adding: “Iran is still pursuing the dream of being an [old-fashioned] regional military power, regardless of the consequences.”

Al-Mekaimi believes that an economically vibrant Iran would be a more welcomed presence in the middle east than one armed with nuclear weapons. “Iran needs to boost its own economy,” she says. “They are not helping themselves. Their priorities are upside down. Nowadays it is your economy that makes you influential. This kind of military power (that Iran is pursuing) has limits.” Reflecting on Iran’s current relationship with her neighbours, Al-Mekaimi cites an Arabic proverb: “If you don’t have anything, what can you offer anyone else?”