The most glaring aspect of America's failure at democratizing Iraq has been policymakers' inability to take local political culture and values into consideration. Democracy was understood to consist of such trappings as a well-drafted constitution, regular elections, and a vociferous parliament; it seems no thought was given to the influence of tribal affinities and networks or the implications of sectarian identity on politics. Constitutions, elections, and parliaments are important elements in democratic systems, but they do not in and of themselves lessen autocratic rule, as can be witnessed in many Middle Eastern countries. Something else in terms of political practice must exist for autocracy and despotism to be blunted. I argue here that attention should be given to private forms of political engagement that are rooted in tribal and Islamic norms and practices.
Both modernization and Marxist development theories have privileged certain forms of politics while denigrating others. A centralized state, constitutions, political parties, and parliaments are deemed good, whereas tribes and tribalism, as well as religion-based ideologies and forms of organization and sociability, are considered atavistic and something to be discarded as not fully modern. It is interesting to note, however, that Arab countries that have clung to institutions and practices rooted in tribal and Islamic values have been considerably less violent than those claiming to be based on republican and democratic principles. Compare, for example, the modern histories of Iraq and Syria with those of Saudi Arabia, Oman, or any of the Gulf Arab states. Although far from democratic, the latter have not instilled a culture of fear and terror, at least not in their male citizens.
This difference in relative tolerance cannot be explained by the massive oil wealth of countries such as Saudi Arabia, the usual argument being that wealth allows you to bribe people into silence or acquiescence. This is because the kingdom's government was not repressive in the Syrian or Iraqi sense, even before the advent of oil. So what accounts for the difference? At least a partial explanation, I believe, lies in a private form of politics based on tribal and Islamic principles.
Rooted in both tribalism and Islamic law are norms and mechanisms that allow subjects to voice their views in person to the head of state or to his representatives. The Saudi king and a number of leading princes are often seen on television or in photographs receiving petitions from individuals. Although this constitutes an aspect of the theater of state—marking the Al Saud family as accessible to their people, as any tribal shaykh should be—the system actually does provide considerable access, not least because it has many points of entry through the numerous princes of the royal family. Individuals present their views and complaints as well as make requests that are sometimes granted, depending on a number of factors (e.g., the petitioner's identity and sociopolitical status and connections). This is not an open system, however. People from certain groups are excluded—foreign guest workers, most women, and, until recently, certain minorities, such as the Shiʿa of Najran and the Eastern Province. Nonetheless, the net effect is that the state has a good sense of the views held by a select subset of its subjects and is constantly gauging how to respond. In effect this is a process that allows for a variety of private conversations to be converted into public policy. Good examples of this are policies adopted to deal with the recent stock market crash and the war against al-Qaʿida.
In addition, the Saudi state accepts criticism from individuals and groups through petitions of advice (naṣiḥa). This is an Islamically sanctioned process that requires advice to remain private between the self-appointed adviser and the state representative. The reason for privacy is to avoid humiliating the government official, not to “blacken his face” in public by pointing out policy failings or mistakes.
The system does break down when the government remains obstinately unresponsive to certain well-organized pressure groups. The most notable cases in Saudi Arabia have been the government's refusal to accommodate the demands of either radical Islamists (e.g., Osama bin Laden and the local wing of the Muslim Brothers in the early 1990s) or liberal Saudis who have repeatedly clamored for democratic reforms. As a result, both opposition groups have resorted to public dissemination of their petitions as a method of garnering support among the Saudi public and embarrassing the government. Such cases point to the limits of private politics in Saudi Arabia and underscore the real challenge that the royal family (a private institution itself) faces in its attempt to accommodate various opposition groups among the country's population.
Adherence to another Islamic norm undergirds the engagement of individuals in this private form of politics. With a few notable exceptions, critics of Saudi rule do so without fear that members of their immediate or extended families will be punished should they incur the wrath of the government. This norm is captured by various Qurءanic verses that forbid collective punishment for sins or crimes committed by an individual (e.g., Q. 53:18: “No soul can carry the sins of another soul …”). It is common knowledge that family members of the staunchest opponents of the Saudi regime remain unharmed in any way and continue to lead normal and successful lives in the kingdom, which is the case with members of the Bin Laden family, for example, and the families of Saʿd al-Faqih and Nasir al-Fahd. This feature of the kingdom's politics lies in marked contrast to what takes place in Syria or Iraq, where collective punishment has been one of the state's principal tools for instilling fear and discipline among its citizens.
I do not intend to paint a rosy picture here of Saudi Arabia but only to highlight that certain elements in its political life and culture have the effect of weakening the authoritarian nature of its rule. Ordinary Saudis do encounter a system of domination by the state, which takes various forms—symbolic, economic, political, and gender based. However, it is rarely violent. I think the last fact can be explained by the private political practices I have described here. The Saudi system of rule may be amenable to change and reform but slowly and on its own terms, not those dictated by people for whom a Western-style democratic government is the only acceptable alternative.
Thinking of politics in private versus public forms and suggesting that this may partially explain differences in levels of violence in certain Middle Eastern countries underscores the importance of attending to local and historically rooted norms and practices. These clearly have merit and are worth adapting, in some reformulated fashion perhaps, to accommodate the political realities of the Middle East.
