National elites
Given that most aspects of the welfare state and the various wealth distribution mechanisms in the Gulf monarchies are geared primarily towards citizens, it has become increasingly important for these states to develop carefully a sense of national identity. On a basic level, governments need to control exactly which of their residents are entitled to the many privileges and benefits of the rentier state and, especially in the more resource-scarce monarchies, there is a need to make sure that the national wealth never has to be too thinly spread. More subtly, the building of a clear social divide between citizens and expatriates, especially in those Gulf monarchies such as Qatar, the UAE, and Kuwait — where the majority of residents are now expatriates — has also created a readily identifiable elite status for nationals. Put simply, in these monarchies almost any citizen, regardless of background or education, can automatically assume a relatively high social standing, courtesy of their passport or identity papers.[246] For many years — and this is often still the case — this meant in practice that citizens could queue-jump expatriates, win arguments with the police (especially if the police were expatriates), and in general enjoy preferential treatment in public. While this obvious social stratification is now becoming a little blurred — notably in those monarchies such as Bahrain and Oman that have sought foreign direct investment or have established tourism industries — there nevertheless lingers an atmosphere of favouritism and state-sponsored social inequity. Either way, from a ruling family’s perspective any awkwardness or resentfulness from expatriates is massively outweighed by the political benefits of having a national population that not only enjoys distributed wealth but also de facto elite status.
Although not an example of wealth distribution as such, the aforementioned sponsorship or kafala system is also heavily dependent on this elite status and the distinction between citizens and expatriates. While some of the more resource-scarce Gulf monarchies, notably Bahrain and Dubai, have gone to great lengths to liberalise their economies and create a more equitable competitive environment for foreign entrepreneurs and investors — either by removing the kafala requirement in the free zones or by allowing ministries rather than individuals to serve as sponsors — most Gulf states have shied away from abolishing the system, given the significant economic benefits it brings to many citizens. In the most straightforward examples, well placed nationals can essentially sell their status as a citizen to foreign partners who need to conform to existing legislation (such as having a sponsor control at least 51 per cent of the company’s stock)[247] and seek a local partner. In these situations it is not uncommon to find that the local partner is effectively a ‘sleeping partner’, with the foreigner doing most of the work. As mentioned, this allows citizens to enjoy another stream of rent often above and beyond any land or property they may have acquired with the help of the state.
One important mechanism for guarding and preserving the narrow and distinct social base entitled to these privileges has been the control over citizens’ marriages by using a mixture of formal and informal methods. Although there are many exceptions, and some significant variances between the different Gulf monarchies, it is generally the case that national women must marry national men. The usual explanation for this social requirement is that women marrying foreign men will erode cultural values, religious values, and the use of Arabic by their children. However, for an increasingly vocal younger generation of Gulf national women, this is becoming harder to make sense of, as their male counterparts have always been able to marry whomsoever they wish, regardless of nationality, race, or even religion. Moreover, earlier generations of Gulf women, especially in the pre-oil era, were much freer, with many marrying Muslim Arabs from neighbouring sheikhdoms or even further afield. After all, there is no Koranic requirement for a woman to marry a man from her own country.
At the family level, a system of stigmatisation remains in place for women who marry foreigners, and many such women are effectively ostracised from their families if they press ahead with these unions. While no laws exist in the Gulf monarchies to prevent such occurrences, there is little doubt that pressure continues to be exerted from the top — with rumours and discussion of ‘unpublished decrees’ still frequently circulating that are rarely scotched by officials. What policies are in place are highly discriminatory, with Gulf national women generally being unable to pass on their passport to any offspring from such unions or — most crucially — both their husbands and offspring being ineligible to receive any of the rentier state benefits. A recent exception to this is the UAE, which in late 2011 announced that such children could apply for passports at the age of eighteen.[248] But it remained unclear exactly what benefits they would be entitled to before that age. Moreover, there is still no doubt that the offspring of UAE national men and foreign mothers — even those born and brought up in different countries, or out of wedlock — enjoy much better rights. In 2009, a UAE committee even visited Egypt and Syria to identify such children who might be eligible for UAE citizenship. A six-month Ministry for Interior programme was announced for these ‘would-be UAE citizens to go under a series of educational, social and health orientation programmes to learn UAE customs, traditions, heritage and values that will smooth their integration into UAE society’.[249]
Also at the policy level, for those Gulf monarchies that provide ‘marriage funds’ to young male citizens — another wealth distribution mechanism, ostensibly to defray the rising cost of wedding ceremonies — payments will only usually be made to men who are betrothed to fellow nationals. In other words, there now exists a significant financial incentive for many men to marry compatriots rather than foreigners. An oft-cited example is the Sheikh Zayed Marriage Fund which began in Abu Dhabi in 1990, before later being made accessible across the entire UAE. In its first decade over 60,000 youths benefited from the scheme, which dispensed more than $630 million in grants.[250] Today, on average, it offers grants of $19,000 to each eligible applicant.[251] Similarly narrow incentives exist in Qatar, where the housing allowances are doubled for Qatari men if their wives are also Qatari.[252] And across the region ruling family-sponsored mass weddings for such marriages remain highly popular, often costing millions of dollars and involving giant feasts for hundreds or thousands of guests.[253]
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25. For a full discussion see Lucas, Russell E., ‘Monarchical Authoritarianism: Survival and Political Liberalization in a Middle Eastern Regime Type’,