The war on Iraq is being fought in the name of democracy and fighting terrorism. Yet lessons that might be drawn from Iraq’s neighbouring countries have been largely neglected in the debate on whether or not military intervention will truly advance these aims.

While Kuwait is often presented as a model for development in the Gulf-region it has faced many of the same obstacles which might soon face an American administration in Iraq.

Kuwait is still the only country in the Gulf to have a parliament with a genuine popular mandate, a proper division of powers, free speech (with some restrictions) and a written constitution. In short, it seems an example of the happy ending US military intervention in Iraq is designed to lead to. Many will testify however, that if Kuwait is a success this consists of successfully limiting rather than embracing democracy.

Despite the success radiated by Kuwait’s economic wealth and liberal attitudes political life remains surprisingly undemocratic and its human rights record is still a cause for great concern. The lessons the country offers will have to be learnt quickly if the task in Iraq of patching together a country which is a virtual text-book collection of dilemmas for emerging democracies is to be avoided.

Stateless in Kuwait

The fate of the bidoon or stateless people, who have often lived in Kuwait for generations but are nonetheless denied political rights, is a prime example of such dilemmas. Some bidoon come from ancient Bedouin tribes while others were drawn to Kuwait during the oil-boom of the 1950s. Both groups have in common that they cannot claim automatic citizenship under the nationality law of 1959 since this law requires proof of continuous settled presence since 1920.

Some of the Bedouin were long unaware of the importance of claims to citizenship, and as time progressed legislation tightened. Before the 1990 invasion by Iraq there were 250,000 bidoon living in Kuwait. After liberation many of these who had fled Kuwait to avoid the occupation found themselves stranded as immigration law was strictly enforced.

Mohammed Yassin is 27 years old and representative of many bidoon. He lives with his family in the desert forty-five minutes south of Kuwait City in makeshift tents next to their small herd of goats. His ancestors are Bedouin and as he explains, “We go where the animals can eat. If there is good grass in Iraq we go to Iraq, if it is better in Saudi we go there”. Now his family no longer goes anywhere and Mohammed makes his living driving a taxi in Kuwait city and trading in animals.

The failure to integrate the bidoon into political life results from the same conservative forces which still deny women the right to vote. In the Gulf region, politics are often much more focused on loyalty and authority than in the west. The origins of this approach are rooted in the still very pervasive clan and tribal systems, making inclusion of groups traditionally outside this framework inherently difficult.

A recent example in Kuwait is the Emir’s decree of 1999 that provided for women to be able to vote. The decree was voted down in parliament by a slim majority after seven months of debate. This defeat, according to many analysts, was an illustration of the growing strength of conservative forces within the country. Even liberal parliament members, including the chairman who was at the time a leading member of a progressive movement, voted against the decree.

The collapse of this initiative, and the lack of support for it even among liberals, owe something to the political culture of loyalty and national unity in Kuwait. Political pragmatism led many to vote against it for fear that it would tilt the balance further towards fundamentalism and conservative forces by (for example) giving the husbands of recently enfranchised women a double vote. But many also voted against the decree because of the opinions of elders in their family or tribe and to avoid creating a rift in the parliament.

As is shown by growing fundamentalism in the country over the last decade, liberal processes that are pushed too far, too quickly, can produce a strong backlash by the various factions and tribes. In Kuwait, promoting liberal policy too forcefully actually undermines the relatively liberal climate. This enforces patience among even the most progressive political elements.

Yet most people in Kuwait can barely afford patience. A majority of its population and 90% of its workforce are composed of foreigners. Unlike bidoon they have passports and nationalities. Most come from south or east Asian countries, and have been tempted to Kuwait by its higher living standards. Many end up staying in Kuwait for extended periods of time. The majority of Pakistanis, Indians and Bangladeshis – the largest groups of expatriates in Kuwait – arrived and found jobs through one of the many black market labour agencies, thus surrendering nearly half their wages each month in administration costs.

Since every foreigner in Kuwait needs to have a sponsor – normally the person responsible for providing the immigrant with a salary – passports are given up to the sponsor on arrival. Without travel documents, labour legislation and with a much smaller wage than promised in their home countries many are also treated very badly in their places of employment. This is particularly true of maids and other service professions; newspapers report on suicides or homicides among them almost daily.

No quick route to democracy

The rhetorical link between rogue states and terrorism, so often invoked since 9/11 in the United States, implies that democracy is the only viable political state of affairs for a country. The logic of this link is that countries with different political systems support terrorists almost by default due to their opposition to the prevailing ideology of the liberal, free-market order.

Now the US is involved in a bitter war amid the Iraqi sandstorms. What is at stake now is not simply rhetoric or logic but the more fundamental one of whether states with autocratic regimes, which may even harbour terrorist organisations, can be treated as allies. The less than complete democracy in Kuwait suggests that the obstacles facing the avowed aim of democratising Iraq in this second Gulf war are tremendous.

Democracy in Kuwait rests on a precarious balance between inclusion and exclusion. It is a balance which has cautiously adapted to modernity over decades and does not admit rapid changes. A policy is close to being imposed on Iraq, only hours by car from Kuwait, with a very different agenda.

Not only does Iraq present a far more complex picture in terms of ethnicity; it has little experience of the pragmatism and patience that leading politicians in Kuwait have nurtured since 1960 in order to preserve the unity and institutions of the country intact. Yet in Iraq, it is believed that a brief war can be followed by the imposition of democratic institutions and long-term peacekeeping forces – and that a functioning democracy requires little more. The omens are not good.