A Far Away Land: Travels East Of The Sands Of Saudi Arabia
The Persian Gulf States lie east of the vast expanse of sand that comprises the “Empty Quarter” of Saudi Arabia. Tales of travels through the Persian Gulf go at least as far back as Marco Polo in the 13th and 14th centuries. The combination of rugged and foreboding terrain, savage weather, “exotic” inhabitants, nomadic Bedouins and transcontinental traders has been fodder for myth and legend. Armchair travelers have long been transfixed by lands and peoples quite different from their own, and have, as a consequence, been in thrall to stories and travelogues of the region.
Now, I must confess that, unlike Marco Polo and other legendary adventurers, my recent travels to the Gulf were not by caravan or even astride a fierce Arabian charger. My travel, I’m afraid, took place in the cosseted realm of modern luxury travel. I faced no bands of pirates, no marauding hordes from the steppes of Asia and no hostile denizens of the dessert sands. I even avoided the murderous heat of their scorching sun by, cleverly, going in winter. Perhaps the toughest thing I had to endure was the occasional snooty stewardess. None-the-less, during my Arabian sojourn I did come face to face with a region and a people quite different from those in my home environs nestled in tristate suburbia. And, like many travelers of yore, I too gleaned some thoughts and impressions of this strange and far away land.
Before our plane even touched down in Muscat, Oman, one could see that the desert below was a barren, lifeless realm where little could grow and absolutely nothing could flourish. The idea that indigenous nomads could have survived in this harsh environment for thousands of years would seem absurd. Yet, we know from archeological findings that they, in fact, did so. The thought, also, that such an inhospitable land would be crossed regularly by itinerant travelers seemed preposterous as well. Yet again, artifacts from the region as well as historical records from the surrounding lands demonstrate that such transit did, indeed, occur, and was due to the simple fact that the region lay, geographically, at cross roads between Asia, Europe and Africa. Commerce, apparently, always finds a way.
Leaving the airport in Muscat in mid February, I was pleasantly surprised to encounter delightful temperatures and refreshing breezes. Although I was told that the breezes do continue throughout the warmer months, temperatures would NOT remain so delightful. From late spring to early autumn the thermometer regularly tops 100 degrees Fahrenheit, and people are driven indoors in much the same way that we are in winter.
Now, once one has “taken in” the “lay of the land”, the next thing that one is struck with, is the breathtaking modernization. And this was evident in all of the cities we visited. In Oman, where Muscat and large surrounding areas had been extensively developed, we were told that, prior to the discovery of oil in the early 1970’s, there was absolutely NOTHING there. No development, no buildings, not even roads. None of the thousands of buildings we saw, therefore, could have been more than 50 years old. To go from tents to a modern metropolis in less than three generations boggles the mind, but there’s no question that that’s what happened.
Next, when visiting great urban centers such as Dubai, Abu Dahbi and Doha, one is surprised at how cosmopolitan they are. This impression derives from the fact that the Arab population in these areas is, by far, the MINORITY. Eighty five percent of the people in these cities are not, in fact, Arabs, but are, instead, expatriates and guest workers from India, the Philippines, Indonesia, Pakistan, Africa and even Europe. I swear I’ve seen more hijabs in Brooklyn than I did in Dubai. And, although, in Oman, I was beginning to get the hang of what you might call “social Arabic”: simple niceties, such as a greeting (Salam alaykom), the word for “please” (raja’) and the word for “thank you” (shukraan), etc. But, when I got to Dubai, I found that most of the people I talked to seemed to understand English better! Accordingly, I reverted back to my native tongue: “hello”, “please” and “thank you”, which EVERYONE seemed to understand.
Now, prior to my visit, I had more or less expected to find the local population to be a bit standoffish toward American visitors (perhaps a bit like Paris was a quarter century ago), but that was not the case. The people were quite welcoming and eager to be of assistance when asked. I also could feel that they had a bit of healthy curiosity about us Americans, and my curiosity toward them was accepted and even encouraged as well.
Now, having just described a cordial and hospitable people, I will say, however, that I did sense that there was a certain tension or unease “in the air” in many of the places we visited. This feeling is a bit hard to explain, but was, none-the-less quite palpable. Some people might use the French term “frisson” to describe it. I’ve encountered this type of unsettling ambiance during some previous travels, especially in places like China and Cambodia and, perhaps, to a lesser degree, in Russia. If I had to guess, I would say that such an undercurrent of tension is apt to occur in societies that have had a violent past and that, today, are governed by rulers with little patience for political dissent and who impose a harsh penal system on criminals and wrongdoers. Growing up and living is such a milieu is, I imagine, quite different than what we are used to in America where we tolerate or even encourage political dissent and, to some degree, coddle our criminals. NOT so, I suspect, in the Persian Gulf: no soap boxes nor penal coddling there! And the population, I surmise, is acutely aware of such, and behave accordingly. Hence, the “frisson”. At one point, our guide claimed that if you decided to go swimming, for example, you could leave your wallet (with, say, a thousand dollars in it) on your unmonitored beach towel, take your swim, and, in your absence, NO ONE would touch that wallet! Now I can’t, on the basis of my short stay, of course, attest as to whether or not this is true, but I can say that I saw no crime of any sort during my entire stay in the region, nor did I hear or read of any, nor did I feel unsafe at any point in any way. A draconian system of justice would appear to sometimes have benifits, frisson or no.
Along different lines, I did encounter a rather curious phenomenon a number of times. This phenomenon is something that I will term “explanations that weren’t.” What I mean by this is, that, if a traveler questioned a guide, or official, or anyone, really, about anything that might seem negative or embarrassing about the region, the economy or the culture, you were always given some type of exculpatory explanation that, at first blush, might sound plausible, but upon further reflection, would seem more and more preposterous. For example, when asked why there were so many construction cranes in Dubai that were not moving or in operation (the truth of the matter is that the region is in the midst of a major economic slump due to a drop in the international price of crude oil), we were told that the builders are so busy that many have “moved on to other projects” (Leaving half built skyscrapers?… I don’t think so!). As another example, when asked why, in many Arab countries, women were not allowed to drive, we were told the reason for this was that the male population could not bear the thought of their women being incarcerated for traffic violations! To this explanation, I can only say… “Please! Do not take me for an idiot!”
Another surprise was the degree of intra-Arabian tension that pervaded the region. Relations between the United Arab Emirates and Qatar, for example, were such that Qatar would not allow flights from UAE to even LAND in their country. To travel from Abu Dahbi to Doha (a short “hop”), we had to travel hundreds of miles south to Muscat to board a plane that retraced our flight path for hundreds of miles back north to fly OVER Abu Dahbi (where we started) and then to continue north to Doha, our intended destination. Relations between Qatar and Saudi Arabia were not so good either. At the time of my visit, Qatar was not only building a WALL along all of its shared border with Saudi Arabia… it was building a MOTE as well! (Don’t tell Chuck Schumer, it’ll just get him upset!) Lastly, during my visit to the region, the President of Iran, Hassan Rouhani, celebrated the 40th year of the “Glorious Revolution” in which the Shah, Reza Pahlavi, was deposed by a throng of religious fundamentalists. Rouhani invigorated the festivities by announcing that Iran WAS LAYING CLAIM to the entire (oil rich) country of Bahrain, an independent sovereign country! Never a dull moment, apparently!
Now, taking an analytical look at the countries and the cultures I visited, I would posit that the trajectory of these societies moving forward in time can be plotted along two axes of an imaginary graph. The first axis involves a sincere and pervasive religious piety and the second involves an powerful and omnipresent drive for cultural, economic and religious hegemony.
The religious piety that I sensed struck me as quite genuine and was more prevalent in the population’s day to day activities than we secular westerners might be used to these days. Even though a recent study found that the salat (prayer five times a day) was actually performed on a regular basis by only 20 percent of the local Muslims, there did seem to be a spiritual awareness in the way the people dressed, spoke and even thought. Now, the drive for religious and cultural superiority, no doubt, derives, in part, from Koranic imperatives to bring the whole world together (Umma) in the worship of Allah. On the other hand, a great deal of that drive, it seemed to me, was the result of good old fashioned innate human competitiveness. And, I got the impression that the construction of infrastructure trophys like the world’s tallest building (Burj Khalifa, or Caliph’s Tower in Dubai) and the world’s largest manmade islands (Palm Jumeirah, also in Dubai) were part of this drive. I also got the impression that even materialistic things like Ferrari sports cars and expensive watches and jewelry were prized not so much because of how they performed or, even, for their intrinsic value, but, rather, for the way they demonstrated the wealth and status of their owners.
Now, these two different motivators along the axes of piety and hegemony might be expected to pull the their societies in different directions, and indeed they do. Continued economic growth, especially in the long run when oil revenues become less a factor than they are today, will depend on further modernization, and that will include the diminution of regional tensions and the promotion of alliances and international cooperation. Ultimately, a more inclusive and representative government will be necessary to prevent unrest among the non Arab majority as will the emergence of a more truly pluralistic society. The axis of religious piety, on the other hand, will lead in the opposite direction on many of these points. Exactly what type of Arabia we’ll see in 10 and 20 years will depend, not just on the price of oil, but on the trajectory they choose between piety and hegemony.