Enduring Authority: Kinship, State Formation, and Resource Distribution in the Arab Gulf

by Scott Weiner

B.A. in International Relations, May 2008, Tufts University M.A. in Political Science, May 2013, The George Washington University

A Dissertation submitted to

The Faculty of The Columbian College of Arts and Sciences of The George Washington University in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy

May 15, 2016

Dissertation directed by

Nathan J. Brown Professor of Political Science and International Affairs The Columbian College of Arts and Sciences of The George Washington University cer- tifies that Scott J. Weiner has passed the Final Examination for the degree of Doctor of philosophy as of March 25, 2016. This is the final and approved form of the dissertation.

Enduring Authority: Kinship, State Formation, and Resource Distribution in the Arab Gulf

Scott Weiner

Dissertation Research Committee:

Nathan J. Brown, Professor of Political Science and International Affairs, Dissertation Director.

Marc Lynch, Professor, Professor of Political Science and International Affairs, Committee Member.

Henry E. Hale, Professor of Political Science and International Affairs, Committee Member.

iii Acknowledgements

The author wishes to acknowledge those without whom this dissertation would not have been written. Without the consistent support of Ronnie Olesker and Richard

Eichenberg I would not have completed an undergraduate thesis or pursued a doctorate of Political Science. Jamal al-Kirnawi introduced me to the world of Bedouin tribal politics. Kimberly Kagan provided invaluable advice on completing graduate studies that prepared me for the marathon of doctoral study. Along with Marisa Sullivan, she introduced me to the “aggressive pursuit of knowledge” that defines rigorous scholarly research. Finally, I am grateful for the support of Thomas Morgan, Dhafra al-Azzawi,

Eman al-Tamimi, and Suhail Hussein who opened my eyes to the complexity of the Arab

Gulf region.

I am grateful to Marc Lynch and Mary Casey-Baker at the Project on Middle East

Political Science for a Travel-Research-Engagement grant that convinced me of the importance of archival and interview field work in political science. In preparation for my field work, Geri Rypkema and Eileen Lavelle at the Office of Graduate Student Assist- antships and Fellowships at The George Washington University offered advice, support, and edits at a moment’s notice for fellowship applications. Because of their support, I secured a David L. Boren Fellowship, which Michael Saffle at the Institute of In- ternational Education worked with me to complete. Ambassador Edward “Skip” Gnehm extended his kindness, advice, and consistent support of my project on my behalf. I am also grateful to MP Aseel al-Awadhi for her guidance. I received invaluable advice about

iv field work in the Arab Gulf region from Lama al-Humaidan. Samyah al-Foory and Zaid

Darwish, despite having never met me before, spent four hours answering my questions about life in Kuwait. Madeleine Wells Goldburt, whose friendship predated my graduate study, provided advice and constant intellectual, logistical, and emotional support before, during, and long after my time in the region.

In Kuwait, I completed field work with the support of the Center for Gulf Studies at the American University of Kuwait. Farah al-Nakib was a supervisor who quickly became a personal mentor. Her commitment to robust scholarship sets a high standard for emerging scholars and her deep commitment to Kuwait and its history is nothing short of inspiring. Noura Qasem provided invaluable support throughout my first semester at

AUK. She also has the perhaps dubious honor of introducing me to Sultan Center. I was granted the opportunity to present my preliminary findings to AUK students through

Pellegrino Luciano and Hesham al-Awadhi, both of whom also offered research support and mentorship during my time in Kuwait. Emanuela Buscemi provided constant intellectual stimulation and played a fundamental role in shaping my research agenda as a scholar interested in the politics of identity. Both she and Roberto Fabbri were wonder- ful colleagues. I am also grateful for my brief overlap with Shea Garrison and Susan

Kennedy at the Center for Gulf Studies.

The students of AUK who supported this project are too numerous to name. They were generous, selfless, patient, and often courageous to sit with me for hours at a time discussing their lives, experiences, families, and hopes for the future. Some opened their homes to me or provided invaluable research support. Others were supportive of my ef-

v forts to improve my Arabic speaking. Their enthusiasm and passion are an asset to

Kuwait and harbingers of a bright national future.

Several individuals in Kuwait provided invaluable access to written materials on

Kuwait’s history. I am deeply thankful for access to the library at the Center for Re- search and Studies of Kuwait. Abdullah al-Ghuneim took time from his busy schedule to meet with me and provided important direction for my studies at CRSK. Amal Salah

Berekaa’s extensive knowledge of the Center’s holdings made doing research there a pleasure. I am also grateful to Talaal al-Rameedhi of the Kuwait Writers Association,

Hamza Alayan at the al-Qabas Archives, the staff of the Gulf and Arabian Peninsula

Studies Archives at Kuwait University, and Thomas Cherian Kutty and the library staff at the American University of Kuwait.

I am also grateful to the staff of the Embassy of the United States of America in

Kuwait for their support. In particular, I wish to thank Mona Farouki and Todd Bollock, as well as Lisa Cosgrove, and Gary Schumann for their help in ensuring a successful and safe research experience.

Several people opened their homes and families to me during my stay in Kuwait.

This hospitality was not only an important part of my research, but the basis of personal relationships and a sense of belonging despite being thousands of miles from home.

Mishary al-Fares brought me to weddings, funeral observances, and every family gathering in between. The al-Barrack family were deeply supportive of my work and provided critical evidence for my findings. Dhari al-Wazzan, Ahmed Issa, Hamed al-Saeed, Siham

Nuseibeh, and Ahmed Arafat all showed me a level of hospitality and kindness to which

vi I was by no means entitled. I am particularly grateful to Ahmed Bin Barjas for his willingness to share his deep knowledge of Kuwaiti tribal politics and grant me access to his extensive network of tribal sheikhs and influential leaders. His books on Kuwait tribal history were an important guide for my research and a useful asset for any scholar of

Kuwaiti tribal politics. I also wish to thank his nephew Fares Ali Barjas who provided helpful translation support during interviews where speakers used a tribal dialect with which I was unfamiliar.

Dana al-Otaibi, formerly of the British Embassy in Kuwait, blew me away with her knowledge of Kuwait and its politics. She is one of the smartest people I had the for- tune to encounter during my travels. Her sharp intellect is matched only by her witty and absurdist humor. I am grateful for every aspect of our friendship. My doctoral colleague

Rivka Azoulay was an unrelenting source of support during my stay in Kuwait. Her intellectual tenacity and thoughtfulness is matched only by her warm-heartedness and genuine passion for the people in her life. She was the upstairs neighbor who quickly became a lifelong friend over the course of our many Friday night dinners.

The development of my project in Kuwait was advanced by conversations with

Talal al-Saeed, Saleh al-Nafisi, Saud al-Enizi, Rania Maktabi, Ghanem al-Najjar, Lubna

Alkazi Yagoub al-Kandari, Mohammed al-Bogaili, and Dhari al-Jutaili, and Kristen Kao.

I was also deeply privileged to discuss my work with John Peterson, who provided important comparative perspective between Kuwait and Oman.

In Oman, my research benefitted from academic conversations with Marike

Botenbal, Heba Aziz, Corien Hoek, Crystal Ennis, and Raid al-Jamali. I also benefitted

vii greatly from discussions with Mohammed al-Muqadam, Ahmed al-Mukheini, and Ab- dullah al-Ghafri. Said al Rahbi at the Oman Studies Center at Sultan Qaboos University was beyond hospitable, as was the staff of the library at the University of Nizwa. Julia al-Zadjali of the Centre for Omani Dress also provided important cultural context to my work.

I am grateful for the support of Khalfan Al-Abri’e at the Omani Ministry of Her- itage and Culture, as well as Nasser al-Rawashie and Nabil al-Khanjeri of the Ministry of Regional Municipalities and Water Resources. I also wish to thank Al-Shaima Al-

Raisi of the Muscat Municipal Council and Batul al-Lawati of the Embassy of the Unit- ed States in Oman.

I am grateful to the staff of Hala FM and Clean Up Oman for their friendship and kindness. The students of Sultan Qaboos University, The University of Nizwa, German

University of Technology, and the Higher College of Technology in al-Khuweir took time from their studies to speak with me about their lives, experiences, and impressions.

I am grateful for their willingness to help and inspired by their dedication to the better- ment of Oman. Finally, I wish to thank Rafiah al-Talei whose guidance and advice at multiple points throughout the project has been instrumental in my understanding of contemporary Oman.

I recognize a deep debt of gratitude to all of my interviewees. While their names are protected by confidentiality, I have tried to write a dissertation that encapsulates the breadth and depth of their insights about their expertise, knowledge, and experience. I have tried to honor their hospitality, kindness, and generosity by representing their

viii statements accurately and in a way that furthers scholarly understandings of the Arab

Gulf region.

Early drafts of this dissertation were improved thanks to comments and feedback from the Comparative Politics Workshop at the GWU Political Science Department and the Dissertation Workshop at the GWU Institute for Middle East Studies. Harris My- lonas, Evgeny Finkel, and Eric Kramon provided important feedback, and I am also grateful to Stephen Hanson for his highly informed Weberian theoretical perspective. I also wish to thank Keith Darden of American University for his useful comments and feedback. Finally, Dina Bishara, Jessica Anderson, and Dillon Stone Tatum were patient, insightful, and encouraging in numerous conversations that shaped the final dissertation project.

While many panelists, discussants, and chairs provided important feedback for this project at conferences, I am particularly grateful to Mary Ann Tetrault for her guidance and support. Professor Tetrault passed away while I was in the final stages of completing this dissertation, but her work and mentorship as a scholar will long endure among scholars studying the Gulf region. She will be sorely missed.

I am deeply grateful for the support of my committee for their lucid and thought- ful comments on my project. Nathan Brown is a true scholar whose advice, support, and guidance set the standard for mentorship in political science. He is an advisor who understands that the needs of graduate students often extend beyond purely academic concerns and I could not imagine a better committee chair. Marc Lynch consistently pushes me toward greater methodological rigor and taught me to analyze with an eye toward the

ix bigger picture. His reactions are focused and sharp, and are proof positive of his dedication to the mission of fostering excellence in political science. Henry Hale is an advisor who responds to obstacles with a host of solutions and a relentless sense of optimism.

He has a pure love of ethnic politics that convinced me early in my graduate career to pursue further research in that field.

The staff and members of Young Professionals in Foreign Policy, particularly the members of the Middle East Discussion Group, were a constant source of encouragement. Jasmine el-Gamal and Kaley Lichtman in particular were not only role models, but also introduced me to Arab Gulf politics. I am grateful to everyone in the organization for their constant support of my work and indulgence in an occasional “professori- al” moment.

In addition to the countless friends who have supported me throughout the process of writing this dissertation, my family has also been a consistent source of support. I am deeply thankful for the hospitality of relatives around the world who took me in at a moment’s notice and showed me the importance of family in a way no political science research ever could. All four of my grandparents have, in unique ways, inspired my interest in kinship and family and my dedication to completing a doctorate. I am grateful for their love and support. My uncle, Professor Herbert Golden of Boston University, inspired me with his love of language and commitment to the academic profession. My two sisters have kept me grounded during the writing process as only siblings can, but continue to be inspiring in their own fields of work and study. Finally, I am grateful to my parents for the opportunities, support, and encouragement they have given me

x throughout my life. Ignoring my grandmother’s advice of “don’t look for trouble, it will find you first,” I boarded a plane to the Middle East in the aftermath of the Arab Upris- ings. While I managed to stay out of trouble, I am grateful to my parents for enduring the sleepless nights and worrying that they did their best to hide during our weekly conversations. I hope the resulting dissertation makes them proud.

xi Abstract of Dissertation

Enduring Authority: Kinship, State Formation, and Resource Distribution in the Arab Gulf

Why is kinship more politically salient in some states than others? Why does the political salience of kinship identity vary across states with similar forms of governance?

While existing work describes why kinship retains salience in the first place (Anderson

1986, Layne, 1994), there is little work explaining variation in this salience. One set of existing explanations for the salience of kinship highlight incomplete state penetration that leaves room for competing authority structures like kinship (Scott, 1977; Herbst,

2000, Posner, 2005). Other accounts draw upon modernization theory (Wittfogel, 1957;

Inkeles and Smith, 1974) or patrimonialism (Charrad and Adams, 2011) for causal leverage. While these accounts help explain the existence of kinship salience, they tend to essentialize kinship rather than understanding it on its own terms.

This dissertation argues that patterns of access to resources prior to state formation account for this variation. Where cooperative access existed, different kin groups came together to form “proto-bureaucracies” for allocating resources. As a result, the political salience of kinship identity weakened. In contrast, where competitive access existed, kinship groups controlled areas of land in which these resources were located.

Since there was no need for coordination, there were no proto-bureaucracies and kinship identity remained strongly salient. The dissertation illustrates the validity of this model in Kuwait and Oman based on seven months of field work involving research in ten

xii archival volumes, translating eighteen local histories, and conducting semi-structured interviews with 52 subjects.

In Oman, tribes settled in villages and engaged in agriculture. Water was provided through channels called aflaj. Managing the aflaj required administration, so Omanis constructed proto-bureaucracies to allocate water, maintain infrastructure, and mediate disputes within the system. Following the 1970 coup in Oman, the Ministry of Interior assumed jurisdiction over the aflaj bureaucracies. The result was a bureaucratic system in which these administrations were put under the jurisdiction of the Department of Aflaj

Affairs in the Ministry of Water Resources.

In Kuwait, tribes were dispersed throughout the desert regions surrounding

Kuwait City. Each tribe controlled an area of land called a dirah within which it also controlled access to water resources. During state formation, Kuwait’s leadership reached out to these groups in order to gain influence over their territory and fighting men. However, by reaching out to them as kinship groups, the leadership perpetuated the salience of kinship. Even after state formation, the Kuwaiti government granted citizenship to tribal groups but did so on the basis of their tribal identity. Efforts to lower the influence of kinship following this period proved unsuccessful. This research speaks to debates about governance in state with traditional authority structures. It also makes contributions to contemporary scholarship on patronage politics as well as studies of ethnic identity.

xiii Table of Contents

Acknowledgements iv

Abstract of Dissertation xiii

List of Figures xv

Chapter 1: Introduction 1

Chapter 2: Kinship Identity and State Formation 11

Chapter 3: Kinship in the Arab Gulf 31

Chapter 4: Theoretical Model 43

Chapter 5: Research Design and Methodology 62

Chapter 6: Cooperative Access To Resources - Oman 86

Chapter 7: Competitive Access To Resources - Kuwait 123

Chapter 8: Shadow Cases: Qatar, Iran, Somalia 165

Chapter 9: Conclusion 189

Bibliography 197

xiv List of Figures

Figure 1: Hypothesized Outcomes of Resource Access on Kinship Salience…………..57

Figure 2: Major Water Sources (Approximate locations) in Oman, 1933………………86

Figure 3: Al Busaid Rulers of Oman since 1744……………………………….……….88

Figure 4: Major Locations of Water Sources in Kuwait, 1933…………….….…….…123

Figure 5: Rulers of Kuwait Since 1896………………………………………….….…124

xv Chapter 1: Introduction

Tribes and states solve collective action problems in different ways. While tribes create systems of authority based on family ties, states do so on the basis of technical knowledge. These systems of authority help individuals gain access to resources. Yet tribes and states are not only institutions of authority that facilitate resource access. They also create identities. Tribes invoke membership in a family group as the basis of identity, while states invoke citizenship and nationhood. These identities shape the conditions under which individuals cooperate with each other and engage in collective action.

Despite the differences between them, tribes and states maintain a sort of co-existence across many regions of the world. The relationship between resources and identity is the nexus linking tribes and states. From South America to Africa to Central Asia to the

Middle East, tribes play an active role in shaping state governance at all levels of power.

Tribal and other forms of kinship politics can impact who is appointed head of state, who is elected to parliament, who runs regional councils, which people are favored by the government, and who has the ear of these various power holders. Venezuela, for example, has reserved parliament seats for indigenous tribal members and has a tribal political party - the National Council of Venezuelan Indians. Eight members of Botswana's

House of Chiefs are appointed from the country’s major tribal groups. Uzbekistan’s clans have a major effect on determining who sits in a leadership position in the country.

Despite existing in similar bureaucratic governing frameworks, these entities determined

1 to very different extents the allocation of money, power, and other resources based on authority rooted in kinship identity. What accounts for this variation in the endurance of kinship through the state-building process?

Given that states are defined by their power dominance (if not supremacy) within their borders, it would seem intuitive that different manifestations of state resource distribution and identity building explain these differences. Many social science accounts agree, joining the trend of “bringing the state back in” to show how patterns of state expansion shape the manifestation of tribal power. State driven accounts also highlight the role of instability and conflict as a driving factor in the salience of kinship.

While these explanations provide some leverage, they have also left puzzling questions unaddressed. States gain the physical capacity to administer populations by extending physical infrastructure into non-urban areas of the state. Throughout the dissertation, I refer to this process as “state-building.” Nation-building and state building go hand in hand, since the goal of both initiatives is to administer a population which is dependent on and loyal to the state. During nation-building, states use mass education or mandatory military conscription to build a strong national identity among the population. Yet even when states gain local administrative capacity through state-building, tribal and other kin identities endure. This endurance defies the prediction of state driven models.

2 Furthermore, many accounts that do emphasize the causal role of tribes tend to “essentialize” them as examples of other kinds of groups. This approach prevents scholars from understanding how the characteristics tribes share with other groups interact with each other in the context of tribe-state relations. Some model tribes as patronage networks to show how states maintain loyalty through payoffs. Others model tribes as ethnic groups to explain intra-state conflict or cooperation. Finally, some of these accounts model tribes as electoral constituencies to explain election outcomes and patterns of parliamentary control. Despite the casual leverage many of these models offer, kinship groups differ from patronage networks, ethnic groups, and electoral constituencies in important ways. Correcting the problem of essentialization requires identifying the commonality between each of these disparate ways of understanding kinship.

Kinship groups are not just a means of distribution but a source of identity. The political activation of this identity shapes important aspects of state governance. Regardless of whether these identities are constructed, they shape politics in observable ways. Fur- thermore, people living in societies with tribal histories take them seriously as identities.

Governments in such states engage regularly with tribes as a function of administration and governance. Members of influential tribes are appointed to governing bodies and elected to parliaments. Local administrations are organized along tribal lines and make use of kinship ties. Individual members of kinship groups use kinship ties to obtain access and resources. Each of these behaviors are examples of kinship “performance” - actions that reinforce beliefs about kinship identity. These actions are observable, and

3 allow scholars to generate testable predictions about how given factors affect the salience of kinship.

This dissertation theorizes kinship identity in the historical context of state-building.

Historical contexts may not be able to explain moderate fluctuations over time in the salience of kinship identity. However, they are useful in understanding the side-constraints of kinship salience in a given case. Knowing the basis upon which these fluctuations take place is helpful for determining their political significance and why some states may experience these fluctuations differently than other states.

When states form, they engage in state building to create a material monopoly over the use of force, and a national identity that promotes loyalty to the state. The process relies not only on ideology and inculcating nationalist sentiments, but also physical infrastructures that connect people to a centralized state authority. A state cannot persuade effectively people with whom it has no contact. The ability to inculcate nationalist values and a sense of “state-ness” among the population is dependent on a physical infrastructure by which the population interacts with the state. Decisions about how and where the state builds this infrastructure may impact the salience of kinship after state building.

However, resource access patterns before state building a constrain patterns of state building that impact the salience of kinship after state building.

4 Existing anthropological accounts provide similar analyses for individual states. They draw conclusions about the nature of state-society relations there that are highly descriptive and emphasize how multiple variables come together to create modern states. This dissertation builds on these descriptive accounts to create a generalizable political science model focusing specifically on the political utility of kinship.

Kinship identity before state building is the basis of resource access. Primarily, it is a means to allocate resources which are a) limited and b) vital. “Limited” means that access to the resource is competitive in the economic sense (one person’s use of the resource detracts from another person’s ability to use the resource). “Vital” means that the resource is essential for sustaining life. Prior to state building in kinship-based societies, the use of kinship identity to solve collective action problems generated kinship authority - an institution compelling those who share the kinship identity to advance the interests of the group and its members. Kinship authority determines pattens of control over these resources, and this pattern usually takes one of two forms. On the one hand, groups can cooperate over resources. When there is cooperation, multiple kinship groups work together to allocate a limited vital resource by forming a proto-bureaucracy. Proto-bureaucracies consist of a small set of administrators whose technical expertise is the basis of their authority to allocate resource and resolve disputes. On the other hand, groups can compete over resources. When there is competition, the resource is split among kinship groups who compete to gain and hold access. This competition need not always be

5 violent, but the resource is not allocated via a centralized authority and there is no third party to resolve disputes.

These patterns of control before state-building constrain the ways in which governments engage in the state-building process. They set a baseline for kinship salience after state building. When access to resources is cooperative, governments bring the proto-bureaucracy into the state’s administrative infrastructure. This subsuming of the proto-bureaucracy, when possible, is the most efficient option for the state. It links national-level administrative apparatuses with local ones, rather than building a local apparatus from scratch and convincing the population to respect it. While this process is not always successful, I focus on cases where state outreach to proto-bureaucracies results in effective state building. The outcome of this process is that kinship identity will have weak political salience after state building, since the state can use existing proto-bureaucratic structures as the basis for state-building.

In contrast, when access to resources is competitive, there is no centralized authority to which the state can reach out. Instead, the state must engage with individual tribes to build support for the state’s governance. This coalition building process keeps tribal identity salient throughout state building since it is based on kinship and tribal ties. The outcome of this process is that kinship identity will have strong political salience after state building because tribal authority is embedded into the state building process itself.

6 Accounting for variation in kinship endurance helps scholars to understand better the different ways in which tribes - or similar kinship groups - and states relate to each other.

This line of inquiry is important for four reasons. First, variation in the political salience of kinship identity indicates that different state bureaucracies administer their populations in different ways. Some governments provide certain goods and access while others do not. These debates over state resource provision and interaction with social groups that do the same are central in comparative politics.

Second, explanations of variation in kinship salience speak to contemporary debates over patronage politics and ethnic identity. Recent work on patronal politics and patronage networks highlight the importance of understanding resource access below the state level of analysis. Kinship groups are one entity which historically engaged in this distribution. Furthermore, recent work on ethnic identity has opened new avenues for explaining the conditions under which such identities are politicized. I contribute to this research agenda with a novel examination of kinship performance as an observable outcome.

Third, studying variation in the salience of kinship identity highlights the importance of society-level variables in a literature focused heavily on state actors. Existing accounts of kinship politics in bureaucratic states highlight colonial powers and state decision- making bodies as relevant variables. Yet other variables at the sub-state level may explain variation where such explanations fall short. The causal power of such variables

7 ought to be explored if scholars seek a full understanding of state-society dynamics in such cases.

Finally, variation in the salience of kinship is not obviously explained by existing theories. This lack of explanation is not merely a “gap” to be filled. Rather, it indicates that a different conception of kinship altogether may be warranted. Existing theories either do not tackle kinship directly, or do so in a specific historical context (for example, African colonialism or the post-Soviet space). Theories that examine kinship and state formation tend to overgeneralize state-tribe relations, treating different cases as functionally the same. While all these explanations lay important groundwork, they do not explain why similar states see variation in the endurance of kinship after state-building. Theories explaining variation in the success of nation-building also lay important groundwork but speak to slightly different aspects of the state formation process. Political variables important to state building are under-theorized in the literature, and would improve our analytical leverage if better exposed.

Plan of the Dissertation

The dissertation begins by introducing the concept of kinship and tracing its development over time. I then theoretically ground the argument in existing work on kinship endurance and kinship salience. The project approaches each in a new way, but the topics themselves have been theorized in previous accounts whose insights shape those of this project. The section also synthesizes insights from anthropology with those that form the

8 political science basis of the dissertation’s broader argument. Chapter three introduces kinship within the Arab Gulf context, showing how some of the theoretical concepts appear. Chapter four presents the model itself. It argues argues that patterns of access to vital limited resources can explain variation in the political salience of kinship identity across different states. It qualifies this historical approach with scope conditions that define the universe of cases to which the argument applies. Chapter five gives the methodological justification for the dissertation’s research strategy. Especially given a highly qualitative approach, it is important to theoretically justify the research design and to be explicit about the trade-offs implicit in this design.

The next part of the dissertation presents two case studies: Oman and Kuwait. Adopting an historical approach, chapters six and seven trace the development of water resource access from the late 1800s through the period of state building in both cases. Each begins with descriptions of the system of governance, as well as major kinship groups.

They then explain patterns of resource access before, during, and after state building. To evaluate the political salience of kinship after state building, each chapter proceeds sys- tematically, examining kinship at the levels of ruling family, national government, regional government, and personal politics. The analysis finds that while kinship identity after state building has weak political salience in Oman, it has high political salience in

Kuwait. Chapter eight considers the generalizability of the argument by presenting three

“shadow” cases - Qatar, Iran, and Somalia - as plausible cases for the extension of the

9 model. The project concludes with an overview of its findings and an explanation of their importance to studies of state-society relations.

10 Chapter 2: Kinship Identity and State Formation

Kinship groups are a commonly found political unit both in and across states. They exist in societies across the globe and play an important role in both state and regional politics. Questions about the salience of kinship identity are situated at the crux of broad debates in political science over the relationship between identity politics and resource distribution in states. This chapter considers these questions and merges debates over the linkage between the two. This new conception sets the groundwork for the next chapter, which theorizes this relationship.

To begin, it is important to have a clear definition of kinship. This definition impacts the applicability of the model to, for example, the Brazilian Surui, Ugandan Vonoma, and the Cambodian Khmer Loeu. Different groups may understand kinship in different ways. However, definitional clarity helps scholars determine how the argument applies to such groups. It also reduces some of the conceptual clutter in the field. Differences

between terms like “tribe,” “caste,” and “clan” are ambiguous at best.1 In contrast, kinship refers not only to a type of group but also a broad form of organization. By better defining and understanding kinship, scholars can better theorize the political role these groups play both in societies and in their interaction with states. Definitional clarity

1 Kanchan Chandra, “What is Ethnic Identity and Does it Matter?” Annual Review of Political Science 9 (June 2006): 402, 413. Furthermore, such terms are often used interchangeably in translations from Ara- bic to English because of different conceptualizations of the groups. In Arabic, there are multiple sub- groups including usra, beit, batan, ashira, and qabila.

11 also prevents analytical ambiguity that contributes to the conceptual stretching of kin-

ship.2

In this light, I adopt Swagman’s definition of kinship: the genuine belief in familial connections between members of a political unit…defined by a reference to a distant apical ancestor…the convention for naming tribes and tribal segments frequently im-

plies a common descent.3 While this apical ancestor may be distant, he or she is also an actual member of the kinship group. As opposed to tracing common descent from a mythical ancestor, kinship is based on a genuine belief in descent from a real person.

Furthermore the path of descent between this person and a member of a kinship group is directly traceable.

In addition, these paths of descent create hierarchies of power. Those closest to the apical ancestor may enjoy higher status and greater access to resources and power. Kinship group members close to kin with political or economic power may also be advantaged by virtue of this kinship proximity. In other words, kinship groups are an example of a hierarchical organized group.

2 Giovanni Sartori, “Concept Misinformation in Comparative Politics,” American Political Science Re- view 64 no. 4 (1970): 1034.

3 Charles F. Swagman, “Tribe and Politics: An Example From Highland Yemen,” Journal of Anthropo- logical Research 44 no. 3 (Autumn 1988): 255.

12 Certain aspects of kinship hierarchies - specifically, the nature of kinship identity within these hierarchies - make them uniquely resistant to change compared to other hierarchies. The question of kinship endurance is situated at the nexus of work on ethnic politics, state formation, and modernization. In addition to being a puzzling phenomenon, work on kinship endurance speaks to debates within each of these fields. In this chapter,

I highlight the ways in which my research question engages with these debates.

Why is Kinship Durable?

Kinship is an identity that perpetuates over time. It was durable even prior to state formation. What is it about the nature of kinship that underpins its endurance? Why has kinship continued to matter to politics?

Patronage arguments are grounded in rational materialist models of collective action, but cannot account for behavior outside these models. The idea of kinship as a tool for pa-

tronage originates in reactions to primordialist accounts of identity.4 In contrast, con- structivists pointed out that social and economic factors often shaped the articulation of

such identities. 5 They understood kinship groups as a “unit of substance” defined by

4 See: Max Weber, “The Origins of Ethnic Groups,” in Ethnicity, ed. John Hutchinson and Anthony Smith (New York: Oxford University Press, 1996): 35-40; Clifford Geertz, “Primordial Ties,” in Ethnici- ty, ed. John Hutchinson and Anthony Smith (New York: Oxford University Press, 1996): 40-44. Steven Grosby, “The Inexpungable Tie Of Primordiality,” in Ethnicity, ed. John Hutchinson and Anthony Smith (New York: Oxford University Press, 1996): 51-56.

5 Eugen Weber, Peasants Into Frenchmen: The Modernization of Rural France, 1970-1914 (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 1976): 294; Yuri Slezkine, “The USSR as a Communal Apartment, or How a Socialist State Promoted Ethnic Particularism,” Slavic Review 53 no. 2 (Summer, 1994): 417-19.

13 “corporate organization use for pastoral practices.”6 The group was a mode of collective action that efficiently allocated sparse resources among members of the group. For example, Bedouin “depended on their animals for much of their own livelihood and suste-

nance…a household’s livestock…still contribute to subsistence.”7

This economic model of kinship provides observable outcomes and a rational causal logic. However, it risks essentializing the role of kinship groups. Reducing such groups to one aspect of their functioning may be useful for parsimonious models of certain phe-

nomena. However, it leaves our understanding of such groups incomplete.8 For example, tribe (qabila) is a major kinship-based political unit in the Arab Gulf and entire social groups (the bedu) are distinguished by their “tribal heritage.” However, definitions of tribe in political science often essentialize their internal mechanics, considering them analogous to ethnic groups, patronage networks, or economic subsistence units. In reali- ty, tribes act simultaneously as all of these. Tribes can be patronage networks (for example), but they are not only that. When scholars essentialize such kinship groups, they preclude consideration of how these different functions interact with each other.

6 Marx: 344.

7 Donald P. Cole, “Where Have The Bedouin Gone?” Anthropological Quarterly 76 no. 2 (Spring 2003): 238, 245.

8 Layne concurs with regards to Bedouin kinship groups in particular. See: Linda Layne, The Dialogics of Tribal and National Identities in Jordan (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1994): 13.

14 Kinship authority generates behavior in response to certain primary rules enforced by

the relevant agents of social control.9 This behavior, however, is not always based purely in material interests. Among tribes in Jordan, for example, the process of tribal conflict resolution is based on the principle of collective responsibility on the part of a stip-

ulated and limited set of patrilineal kinsmen. 10 While not formal in the sense of having a set of written laws or signed treaties, this informal construct nonetheless are powerful and their terms are enforced. In Syria, the sanctity of “hospitality” (hurmat al-diyafah)

is so carefully guarded that a host is obliged to offer protection even to his enemies.11

Such codes show the non-materialist elements of kinship authority. Even though one is usually incentivized to avoid helping one’s enemies, kinship politics carries a greater value for members of these kinship groups than the value of purely material benefits.

Interviews with members of kinship groups consistently reflects this element of kinship identity.

Why then, do members of kinship groups act beyond what materialist models would predict? The legitimacy of kinship as a source of authority, like that of most traditional authority, lies in the fact that such practices are understood to have been in place since

“time immemorial.” Underpinning this authority is the fact that at its core, kinship is an

9 Daniel M. Brinks, “Informal Institutions and the Rule of Law: The Judicial Response to State Killings in Buenos Aires and Sao Paulo in the 1990s,” Comparative Politics 36 no. 1 (October 2003): 4-5.

10 Richard T. Antoun, “Civil Society, Tribal Process, and Change in Jordan: An Anthropological View,” International Journal of Middle East Studies 32 no. 4 (November 2000): 446.

11 Sulayman N. Khalaf, “Settlement of Violence in Bedouin Society,” Ethnology 29 no. 3 (July 1990): 232.

15 identity. Specifically, it is a descent-based attribute similar to those that define ethnic

groups.12 An ethnic group is one in which members share certain sets of mutually rec-

ognized physical descent-based attributes.13 While these physical attributes are necessary for membership, the exact combination is socially constructed, and different combinations of attributes become activated at different times. Descent-based attributes personal traits characterized by both “stickiness” and “visibility” (Chandra, 2006). Sticki- ness means the “degree of difficulty associated with changing [an attribute] in the short

them.”14 An example of a sticky attribute would be skin color, which would be exceed- ingly difficult to change. Visibility refers to attributes “that can be ascertained through superficial data sources such as an individual’s name, speech, physical features, and

dress.” 15

While one cannot ascertain a kinship lineage merely by looking at a person, members of a kinship group can easily verify who is and is not a member of the kinship group by asking simple questions like “who is your grandfather?” This ease of verification helps to embed kinship within the plethora of characteristics that comprise a person’s identity.

12 While some kinship groups can be ethnic groups, not all ethnic groups are kinship groups. This is because ethnicity can be based on a plethora of other descent-based attributes that have little to do with kinship. Members of a particular group need not believe in common descent from an apical ancestor to be co-ethnics, but they do in order to be kin.

13 Kanchan Chandra, “Attributes and Categories: A New Conceptual Vocabulary For Thinking About Ethnic Identity,” in Constructivist Theories of Ethnic Politics ed. Kanchan Chandra (New York: Oxford University Press: 2012): 98.

14 Kanchan Chandra, “What is Ethnicity and Why Does it Matter?” Annual Review of Political Science 9 (2006): 414.

15 Chandra, 2006: 416.

16 When kinship lineage is embedded in a person’s name, and this name is used daily in social interactions, it reinforces the notion that kinship is an important identity. Full names can also give information about a person’s occupation, social status, and where their ancestors came from.

Kinship is also a sticky attribute. It is in fact uniquely so, such that I refer to it as super sticky. At some level, the stickiness of kinship is practical. While it is possible to emphasize different parts of one’s lineage, one cannot simply change this lineage. Howev- er, there is another reason kinship is a sticky attribute that drives at its importance as a causal variable. Kinship group identity is unique from other descent-based attributes by virtue of its specificity. It orients its members in relation to all other members of a kinship group in a way few other attributes can. Ethnicity, for its part, uses a socially-generated menu of descent-based attributes to delineate an in-group and an out-group. Kin- ship as an attribute contributes to this delineation. It not only delineates an in-group and an out-group, but orients members of the in-group in relation to other members. For example, in tribes in Yemen, “tribal structure is defined by reference to a distant apical

ancestor.” 16 In accounts of Northern Rhodesia, “membership in a tribe is determined by

the answer to the question: Are you (or were your parents) subjects of Chief X.”17 This specific orientation makes kinship “super sticky” since it gives members of the kinship

16 Charles F. Swagman, “Tribe and Politics: An Example From Highland Yemen,” Journal of Anthropo- logical Research 44 no. 3 (Autumn 1988): 255.

17 Posner, 1.

17 group a unique position in that group. The result is an institution of kinship that, while malleable, is durable and provides members of a kinship group with a social and political identity. This identity is not merely an instrumental means of obtaining resources and access. It gives members of kinship groups a strong sense of connection to each other and to a tradition and history. In other words, kinship provides not only the tangible benefits of resources and access, but also the intangible benefit of a sense of social orientation and a connection to other people.

The super-stickiness of kinship has society-wide effects.The descent-based lineages that underlie kinship identity make kinship hierarchies difficult to alter from within or from outside. Kinship identity gives a consistent rationale for the hierarchical structure of political kinship groups like tribes. As a result, hierarchical political kinship groups operate in ways that are difficult (though not impossible) for outside factors to change.

Patterns of resource access within and among kinship groups, for example, are durable to the point that states may be required to shape state building strategies based on these patterns.

Kinship Performance

Intangibility is a problem for social science. If the benefits of kinship are intangible, how is it possible to observe the salience of kinship? Importantly, beliefs about both ethnicity and kinship drive performance. Ethnic performance refers to actions that rein-

18 force beliefs about the nature of ethnic identity.18 Scholars have highlighted the perfor-

mance aspect of ethnic identity as an important aspect of ethnic politics.19 The performative nature of kinship identity is important too. While kinship as an identity marker is based in belief, these beliefs generate observable performances.

Performance does not necessarily create or reinforce kinship identity, but it is an observable outcome of kinship identity at play in a given society. Members of kinship group do not simply believe that kinship matters socially and politically, they also act like it matters. Members of kinship groups extend special hospitality to each other, attend gatherings with each other, mark religious occasions with each other, agree to vote for similar political candidates, do favors for each other, and vouch for each others’ reputation. Each of these actions have political implications that a) are observable and b) cannot be explained sufficiently by other means.

Highlighting kinship performance challenges the focus of political science on kinship groups as patronage networks or political constituencies. In such models, kinship endures because individuals as rational actors gain a material benefit from using a kinship

18 Performance is an aspect of performativity, an idea that originated in 1970s linguistic philosophy and later made its way into social science via feminism. Performativity highlights ways in which speech creates social facts. I use the word “performance” because kinship ties are reinforced not only through words but through physical acts as well. For more, see: J.L. Austin, How To Do Things With Words (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1975); Judith Butler, Gender Trouble: Feminism and the Subversion of Identity (New York: Routledge, 1990).

19 Vikki Bell, Performativity & Belonging (Oxford: Alden Press, 1999): 48; Denis Zuev, “The Russian March: Investigating the Symbolic Dimension of Political Performance in Modern Russia,” Europe-Asia Studies 65 no. 1 (2013): 102- 136. Andrew Foxall, Ethnic Relations in Post-Soviet Russia: Russians and Non-Russians in the North Caucasus (New York, NY: Routledge, 2015): 121.

19 network. Such a conception has yielded important insights about how kinship matters, but it overstates the rationality of why kinship matters. My evidence indicates that the enduring importance members of a kinship group place on kinship is not only a rational calculation based in material interests. Furthermore, we cannot understand or predict certain behaviors of kinship groups with a rational model. Kinship groups can be patronage networks, but that does not explain why they endure when new or better patronage opportunities emerge. Kinship groups can be electoral constituencies but that does not explain why they endure in states where elected representatives have little power or access to resources. The identity component of kinship is a necessary component of understanding how it operates. Ultimately, it is changes in kinship identity, not only changes in material interests, that change the political salience of kinship.

Kinship identity exists not in a vacuum, of course, but in the context of states. States introduce bureaucratic authority, prompting changes in existing power structures and resource provision. These changes are essential to understand if we are to theorize the linkage between resources and kinship identity.

Why Don’t States Nullify the Political Salience of Kinship?

Questions of changes in kinship identity beg larger questions about why kinship authority should endure at all. Given the state’s monopoly over the legitimate use of force, what stops states from dismantling the political salience of kinship altogether and subsuming kinship groups within a unified bureaucratic identity structure?

20 State penetration arguments focus on the limited capacity of the state to extend to all areas within its borders. These accounts tell us about the limitations of states but do not account for pre-existing kinship authority in peripheral areas. States play an influential role in resource distribution. They also have the power to shape identities based on patterns of access to resources. However, the state does not have unlimited resources to distribute. It also lacks the capacity to reach every area within the state. These limitations create variations in the presence of state authority. Moreover, states do not extend their power into a vacuum. Rather, they expand to reach populations with their own identities and systems of authority.

Since the state does not have unlimited resources to extend power evenly to all areas, it leaves some spaces to be governed by these different, often pre-existing, authority structures. The idea that the state does not penetrate into peripheral areas of the state has been the basis for economic explanations of resistance to the central government, as well as

governance failure and land distribution politics in post-colonial societies.20 Importantly, these accounts agree that authority structures other than those of the state can endure through state formation. The state must then negotiate with - or around - these actors to

20 James C. Scott, Moral Economy of the Peasant: Rebellion and Subsistence in Southeast Asia (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1976): 3-4, 94; Jeffrey Herbst, States and Power in Africa: Comparative Lessons in Authority and Control (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 2000): 41-42; Christian Lund and Catherine Boone, “Introduction: Land Politics in Africa - Constituting Authority Over Territory, Property and Persons,” Africa 83 no. 1 (February 2013): 2.

21 gain authority in a given area.21 While the state can provide access and resources, authority structures other than the state may provide them as well.

Theories of state penetration have been tested extensively within the post-colonial

African cases. In such cases, “the penetration of colonial powers into the interior of

Africa brought in its train the forces of the market and the state…access to state power also provides a means whereby the members of a group can coerce themselves; and…

attain the capacity for collusive behavior.”22 The linkages between state and countryside

explain the autonomy, strength, and coherence of African states.23 In Northern Rhodesia, for example, British colonial authorities distributed resources via “tribal” chiefs, incen- tivizing affiliation with these leaders. The result was that such an affiliation became po-

litically salient. 24

These examples speak to the role of patronage as a related element of state penetration.

Kinship groups can be useful to states for distributing state patronage and ensuring the acquiescence of the kinship group. States may preserve the political salience of kinship

21 Krasner and Risse point out that “there is no linear relationship between service provision and the level of statehood.” See: Stephen D. Krasner and Thomas Risse, “External Actors, State-Building, and Service Provision in Areas of Limited Statehood: Introduction,” Governance 27 no. 4 (October 2014): 548.

22 Robert H. Bates, Essays on the Political Economy of Rural Africa (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1983): 90.

23 Catherine Boone, “Rural Interests and the Making of Modern African States,” African Economic His- tory 23 (1995): 1-36.

24 Daniel Posner, Institutions and Ethnic Politics in Africa (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2005): 6. It bears mention that Posner’s definition of tribe is not kinship based. See Posner, 1.

22 in order to preserve existing durable hierarchies as a means to distribute resources. Bu- reaucratic penetration creates tribes in which “clients are more easily exploited and more

dependent than they had been before the extension of the bureaucratic state apparatus.”25

State-led patronage exists throughout in the Middle East, having been used historically

in the Ottoman empire, Morocco, and Iran.26 In the Arab Gulf, tribal patronage was important as well. In Kuwait, tribal patronage in the form of social welfare payouts shaped the resulting social order in post-colonial Kuwait. It was also the basis upon which au-

thority created electoral constituencies.27

State penetration and patronage as explanations for kinship endurance, however, face two problems. The first is that their predictions about kinship authority do not appear consistently and the second is that they take an overly rationalist and material-centric view of kinship. They would predict that stronger states should see less kinship endurance because the state has the resources to penetrate into peripheral areas. In contrast, weaker states should see more kinship endurance. Empirically, however, this is not always the case. The African cases above lend some empirical support for explanations of state penetration. Oman as a case also shows that establishing a national state and local

25 Lisa Anderson, The State and Social Transformation in Tunisia and Libya (1830-1980) (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1986): 29.

26 Dale Eickelman, The Middle East: An Anthropological Approach (New Jersey: Prentice Hall, 1989): 128.

27 See: Ghanim Al-Najjar, “The Challenges Facing Kuwaiti Democracy,” Middle East Journal 54 no. 2 (Spring, 2000): 246; Mary Ann Tetreault and Haya al-Mughni, “Gender, Citizenship, and Nationalism in Kuwait,” British Journal of Middle Eastern Studies 22 no. 1/2 (1995): 68.

23 bureaucracy through state penetration decreases kinship salience. However, Kuwait and

Qatar are also strong states in the sense that they have the material and physical capabili- ty to penetrate their (small) peripheries. According to theories of state penetration, they should be easy cases for demonstrating that high penetration creates weak kinship salience. Yet kinship salience in both Kuwait and Qatar is high. The discrepancy occurs because state capabilities are only half of the equation. The areas into which states penetrate are not power vacuums, but rather sites of pre-existing institutions of authority.

What Happens to Kinship Once States Become the Main Provider of Resources?

One function of kinship groups is to provide resources. One of the major changes that happens within kinship groups during state formation is that the state becomes the main provider of these resources. In understanding that resources and identity are linked, how does this shift in resource provision affect kinship identity?

Patrimonialist arguments describe a linkage between state and tribal distribution networks, but do not specify the nature of these networks in sufficient detail to explain variation in the endurance of kinship. Patrimonialism is a system in which “the prince organizes his political power over extrapatrimonial areas and political subjects…just

like the exercise of his patriarchal power.”28 Studies of the concept encompass considerations of kin ties, patron-client relations, personal allegiances, and combinations of all

28 Max Weber, Economy and Society: An Outline Of Interpretive Sociology, ed. Guenther Roth and Claus Wittich (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1978): 1012-13.

24 three.29 The basis of patrimonialism is the father-son relationship. Scholars argue that in patrimonial societies, leaders frame themselves as the “father” of the national

“family.” 30 This template provides the basis for access to resources, but also inspires loyalty to the “father” for reasons that go beyond purely rational considerations. In

Kuwait, for example, citizens sometimes refer to Emir Sabah bin Ahmad al-Sabah as

“Baba Sabah” or “Papa Sabah.” Papa is an informal term of endearment that constructs the relationship between Kuwait’s leadership and its citizens as patrimonial. Not all citizens use this title (others such as “high highness the Emir” connote no less respect),

but practically all Kuwaitis understand to whom it refers.31

Studies of patrimonialism often trace the concept from its origins in traditional rule into the bureaucratic state. However, they often contradict each other in describing patrimonialism’s origins and effects. Some accounts argue that patrimonialism endures where the state fails to penetrate, but others contend that state penetration engineered by colo-

29 Mounira M. Charrad and Julia Adams, “Introduction: Patrimonialism Part and Present,” Annals of the American Academy of Political and Social Science 636 (July 2011): 7. Such wide breadth has led some scholars to question the utility of the term altogether. See: Henry E. Hale, Patronal Politics: Eurasian Regime Dynamics in Comparative Perspective (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 2014): 24.

30 Mounira Charrad, “Central and Local Patrimonialism: State-Building in Kin-Based Societies,” The Annals of the American Academy of Political and Social Science 636 (July 2011): 65.

31 In Oman, it is possible to refer to Sultan Qaboos as “Baba Qaboos” but it is less common. Omanis tend to use the phrases “Jalalat as-Sultan” or “His Majesty.”

25 nial powers made patrimonialism stronger.32 This disagreement makes it difficult to evaluate hypotheses about the effects of patrimonialism on kinship endurance. In addition studies of patrimonialism do not delve into variations in the patrimonial relationship, or variations within kinship groups themselves. Patrimonialism is helpful in highlighting the causal role of identity, but it is too broad an identity category to explain variation in kinship endurance. There are elements of the father-son relationship in kinship identity, but that is only one aspect of kinship.

Modernization theory also balances the attribution of agency to states and kinship groups. However, debates persist on whether modernization strengthens kinship identity or weakens it. Some believe that traditional kinship “provides a barrier to industrial de-

velopment.” 33 Others show how kinship can endure in developed societies. Vital limited resources distributed in these societies can shape kinship identity. With regards to water, for example, “the masters of hydraulic civilization were singularly well equipped to lay

the foundations for two major and interrelated sciences: astronomy and mathematics.”34

The technical expertise and knowledge underlying these fields are both aspects of bureaucratic authority. Irrigation is one example of the kind of infrastructure that may be

32 Randal Collins, “Patrimonial Alliances and Failures of State Penetration,” Annals of the American Acad- emy of Political and Social Science 636 (July 2011): 21; Mounira M. Charrad, “Central and Local Patrimo- nialism: State-Building in Kin-Based Societies,” Annals of the American Academy of Political and Social Science 636 (July 2011): 53; Michael Bratton and Nicholas van de Valle, Democratic Experiments in Africa: Regime Transitions in Comparative Perspective (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 1997): 83.

33 W.E. Moore, Industrialization and Labor (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1951): 79.

34 Karl A. Wittfogel, Oriental Despotism: A Comparative Study of Total Power (New Haven, Yale Univer- sity Press, 1976): 29.

26 important to distributing a vital limited resource and explaining variation in kinship endurance. Others concur that “becoming modern was not at all consistently associated

with the rejection of, or defaulting on, traditional obligations.”35 Kostiner and Khoury

(1990) point out that, “tribes were given a renewed role through their participation” in

identity conflicts that arose from state formation.36 As this seminal work argues, kinship continued to play an important role in the politics of many Middle Eastern states following state formation.

At the same time, “the negative side of modernization was [that]…the ecological integrity and political autonomy of tribes were eroded…the change in tribal settlement

patterns had political and socio-cultural implications.”37 In other words, modernization perpetuated but sometimes degrades the salience of kinship identity. Similar accounts focus heavily on the role of industry. In particular, they argue that “the factory is clearly

a school of modernity for those who work in it.”38 However, this explanation has limited utility for explaining the Gulf, since there are few factories in the region. Factories may be sufficient for modernization but they are not clearly necessary. In addition, these accounts define “modernity” as a conglomeration of different concepts, not all of which

35 Alex Inkeles, Exploring Individual Modernity (New York: Columbia University Press, 1983): 24.

36 Philip Shukry Khoury and Joseph Kostiner, Tribes and State Formation in the Middle East (Los Ange- les: University of California Press, 1990): 16.

37 Joseph Kostiner, “Transforming Dualities: Tribe and State Formation in Saudi Arabia,” in Tribes and State Formation in the Middle East, ed. Philip S. Khoury and Joseph Kostiner, (Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1990): 244.

38 Inkeles and Smith, 234.

27 are relevant to bureaucratic politics in the Arab Gulf. Finally, some accounts focus on the modernity of the individual, rather than that of a larger society. They bring formidable evidence to the idea that industrialization can “modernize” a person’s mindset.

However, this insight is incomplete for explaining why kinship as a political authority endures in bureaucratic states, since kinship identity is a social phenomenon.

Accounts of nation building are useful for explaining how modernizing the state can shape identity. They highlight the role of mass education in creating modern states. Na- tion building and state building are similar in that they are intended to create a uniform identity across populations in a state. The former creates uniform identity by drawing upon common heritage, language, or origin (among other factors), while the latter does so by creating respect for a single state authority. In France, for example, the military served as a vector for literacy and the inculcation of French nationalism. This mass edu-

cation gave soldiers a more universally “French” identity.39 Other accounts point out the importance of mass literacy to communist exit in post-Soviet Europe. While explaining a slightly different outcome of interest, they contend that mass literacy in some areas allowed for easier communication by the state and more reliable storage of history and

national myths that in other areas.40 Kinship sometimes factors into these histories and national myths. In the Arab Gulf, Saudi Arabia emphasized genealogy and family lin-

39 Eugen Weber, Peasants Into Frenchmen: The Modernization of Rural France, 1870-1914 (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 1976): 298.

40 Keith Darden and Anna Grzymala-Busse, “The Great Divide: Literacy, Nationalism, and the Communist Collapse,” World Politics 59 no. 1 (October 2006): 98.

28 eage as the basis of national citizenship. The bureaucratic apparatus of the state set out

to record on paper what until that point had been oral histories of kinship lineages.41

The nation-building literature connects state formation with identity in useful ways.

However, it focuses largely on the use of existing physical infrastructure as opposed to the pattens by which this infrastructure was created. The extension of literacy and education to non-urban populations relied on creating the physical infrastructure to do so. Of- ten this infrastructure extended beyond the schoolhouse. Weber recounts that poor road conditions made getting to schools practically impossible for the rurally-based students

who often were a majority in their parishes.42 In addition, landlords often kept students home to tend the fields. The success of French nationalism has its roots not only in nationalist ideology taught in schools, but in physical improvements to roads and advances

in agricultural technology that allowed children to study without jeopardizing crops.43

The state’s ability to conscript or mass educate its population was also based on the fact that this population was settled. Nation building literature bases many of its accounts on the formerly feudal societies of Europe. However, feudalism ties people to locations in a way that more migratory or nomadic societies do not. Regionalism in migratory or nomadic societies is certainly not irrelevant, but tribal identity remains important in such

41 Nadav Samin, Of Sand Or Soil: Genealogy and Tribal Belonging in Saudi Arabia (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2015): 193.

42 Weber, 320.

43 Weber, 323.

29 cases. Sedentarization of the migratory and nomadic population requires infrastructure to meet the needs of a newly settled population. Yet during this process, even before mass education or literacy drives, the salience of kinship identity changes. Given that this settlement process occurred in Europe over hundreds of years, it is not unreasonable that many nation building accounts begin from a later point in the state building process.

However, settlement - particularly when it occurs over the course of a single generation - can have important effects on identity that should not be overlooked. Accounts of state building in Saudi Arabia and other Gulf states have begun to capture these dynamics, and I join these accounts by generalizing about the broad interactions of kinship and bureaucratic authority.

Having established what kinship is and how it operates in states, I now explain the role of kinship identity in the Arab Gulf. This section grounds the concepts above in empirical detail and sets the background for the theory chapter that makes predictions about kinship identity.

30 Chapter 3: Kinship In The Arab Gulf

As an institution, kinship ties in the Arab Gulf mediate access to finite resources by maximizing the access of each individual within the group. Kinship groups also have an element of exclusion, denying non-members access to these resources. Finally, they are an important form of political and social identity.

The names of influential tribes are well-known and respected by other members of the society. Since this power is generated collectively by its members, authoritative kinship groups need mechanisms to enforce exclusivity and preserve their reputation. The bad behavior of one member of the group reflects poorly on all members. One Kuwaiti student explained:

Interviewee: Everything affects the family here. No way will it just affect one person. It depends on what it is, but something has to affect the whole family.

SW: ...What exactly does that say about the family?

Interviewee: That says that those kind of people come from that family. So you wouldn’t want to be associated with anyone from that family.44

How Family Names Are Constructed In Oman and Kuwait

In the Middle East, tribal kinship is organized at four levels: Qabila (Tribe or Mother

Tribe), Fakhitha (Sub-tribe), Ashira/Batan (large family), and Beit (house or extended family). Besides their own lineages, most members of Gulf society cannot recite the

44 Interview (58), Salmiya, Kuwait, March 6, 2014.

31 genealogy of a given family. In interviews, subjects referred to the numerous written records - including some by Western scholars - that exist on this topic.

The outer boundaries of who is considered “part” of a kinship group are often socially constructed, depending on resource availability or political uncertainty. Different families may come together to form a confederation under a single family name, or a family may break off from a larger kinship group. While it is the case in many other societies as well, family names in the Arab Gulf can be an indication of a family’s origins, livelihood, social position, and relative status. Historical information about these families is based on oral sources, or written accounts of oral sources. Different oral sources will sometimes give vastly different accounts of a family’s origins based on their personal familial affiliation. As it would in any society, the social and political implications of these accounts make questions of political and social status in the Gulf sensitive. Sensi- tivity in any society merits scholarly respect, and especially in societies that feel mis-

represented historically in Western academia.45 With that in mind, the information presented below is a simplified model of a very complex system of alliances, confederations, and social relations. There are at least two sides to every story, and I have tried to represent this system as accurately as possible while also being respectful of the honor of all the families under study.

45 Early scholarship on Arab societies often had an orientalist framing, which makes some members of these societies reluctant to participate in research conducted by a Western scholar.

32 Similar to other descent-based attributes, the ways in which kinship is used as an identity marker are often the product of social or political processes. Furthermore, the inclu- sion criteria of kinship can shift over time. Sub-groups can break off from the kinship group by “localizing” their kinship. That is to say, they adopt the name of a particular family patriarchy within a broader kinship structure. For example, the name of the Shi’a

Marafie family in Kuwait is a contraction of the name Mohammed Rafie, a member of the Behbehani family. The Behbehani are a set of families named for their common origins in Behbehan, Iran. The Marafie adopted an apical ancestor as their point of commonality rather than this geographic commonality (although their Behbehani connec-

tion remains known in Kuwait).46 In this case, the identity shifted from geography- based to kin-based.

This localizing process also occurs within groups that already use kinship as a means of identity. An interview with a member of the al-Barrack family of the (Sunni) al-Fadhala tribe gives insight into this process:

SW: What was your father’s name?

Interviewee 1: My father’s name? [redacted] al-Barrack Al-Fadhala. But we end officially not with al- Fadhala. Just al-Barrack…We’re originally al-Fadhala from Bahrain.

SW: Before was the name of the family al-Barrack, or did it change?

Interviewee 2: It’s like their grandfather, but their great-grandfather is Fadhala. But we take it very easy. “We are well known, just say al-Barrack,” and they put it in their national and civil ID, everything [was] al-Barrack. But they are originally al-Barrack al-Fadhala.47

46 Interview (41), Shuweikh, Kuwait, March 6, 2014.

47 Interview (16), Nuzha, Kuwait, February 15, 2014.

33 Family Names in Oman

Family names in Oman are almost always based on tribe and are given in the format “X son of X grandson of X of family X.” In some cases, interviewees described a “mother tribe” and “sub-tribes” which branched off. Some kinship groups have adopted names which denote a certain location of origin. For example, a Lawati family from Muscat adopted the last name “Muscati” (from Muscat). Certain al-Baluchi families based in

Nizwa have adopted the last name “al-Nizwani” (from Nizwa). The family names

Lawati and Baluchi reference origins in India and Pakistan respectively. Changing the family name to reference the city of residence makes the family seem more “indige-

nous” to Oman.48 It also obscures their Shi’a religious affiliation in a majority Ibadhi state. These changes are fairly recent (1970 or later), and some interviewees pointed to

the discovery of oil in Oman as the turning point.49

Family Names in Kuwait

Kuwaiti family names can be divided into four categories: Location of origin, historic occupation, tribal affiliation, and personal trait. Each of these categories in turn convey information about the political status of a family relative to other families. They can also convey information about the family’s affiliations or location of origin.

48 This legitimacy is particularly important given that the Lawati and Baloushi families are historically Shi’a while most other Omanis are Ibadhi.

49 Interview (93) al-Khuweir, Oman, March 21, 2014.

34 Last names based on location of origin denote that the family has historic origins in a particular place. The last name al-Basri for example, means “from Basra,” a city in southern Iraq. These places are usually cities but can also be regions (al-Nejdi from the

Nejd region, for example). Location-based last names do not necessarily correlate with affinity. The Behbehani, for example, were originally a coalition of families from Be-

hbehan, but were not all related to each other.50 In addition, both the Behbehani family and the Dashti family have origins in Iran, but marriages between them are fairly un-

common due to other social cleavages.51

Last names based on historic occupation tend to denote a particular craft. Al-Najjar, for example, means coppersmith. Al-Duwaish means a buyer of pearls. Such occupations were prominent in pre-oil Kuwaiti society. Such families are often confederations of smaller familial groups which joined together prior to Kuwaiti independence.

Last names based on tribal affiliation fall into two subcategories. The first are last names directly invoking the tribe itself: al-Mutairi, al-Shammari, and al-Thafiri are major examples. The second subcategory are names of families within the tribe, which the

British researcher Lorimer first published in English in 1908. Members of families

50 Interview(41), Shuweikh, Kuwait, March 6, 2014.

51 Interview (61), Jahra, Kuwait, January 12, 2014.

35 which emphasize tribal identity tend to have an awareness of the major sub-families of

a tribe, but those which do not have less awareness of these divisions.52

Last names based on personal traits convey a particular characteristic of the family. For example, al-Ayar, a subgroup of the al-Saeed family, translates as “jokester.” Other last names may reference a physical trait or historic event (the name al-Emir, the prince, may indicate a historic leadership position, for example.)

Each one of these four categories can give clues about the others. For example, Al-Anizi is a last name conveying affiliation with the Aniza tribe. Yet it is also understood in

Kuwait that the Aniza are one of the tribes which come from Nejd, the origins of the most prominent tribes in Kuwait. Thus the last name, while tribal, also conveys information about location of origin and status.

Last names in both Kuwait and Oman can and have changed to emphasize certain pieces of information over others. This practice reflects the power that different social contexts can have over the activation of different identity attributes. Many families with a last name based on occupation gained little status from their former name. For example, the al-Kanderi family, whose name means “water carrier,” originate from central

52 Interview (16), Nuzha, Kuwait, February 15, 2014. Several Arabic-language books and websites (e.g. www.kuwaitpast.com) list the sub-families of each major tribe. See, for example: Mat’ab bin Othman al- Sa’eed, Urbanized Nejdi Family Lineages in Kuwait (Kuwait: Maktaba Afaq, 2011) (Arabic); Khalid Al- Mubailesh, Kuwaiti Families in the Old Neighborhoods and Quarters (Kuwait: KuwaitPast.com, 2007) (Arabic).

36 and south-western Iran. Yet rather than using the names of the various families that were part of their migration to Kuwait, the families’ descendants use the name al-Kan- deri, which is today a well-known name in Kuwait. Changing the family name created a larger familial network and increased the relative prestige of the individual families which comprised it. Tribal families did the same. The al-Mutair tribe, for example, is a confederation of many different kinship groups.

Gender and Kinship

Gender plays an important mediating role in authoritative kinship groups. In particular, women are group members of great value. They have the unique power, through birth and marriage, to create new group members and decide who those members are created with. As a result, the engagement and marriage process involve the families of the bride and groom. Traditionally, women also initiated these process of finding a spouse for their child. A man’s mother, grandmother, or aunt went to the house of the woman’s family and inquired whether there were eligible daughters for her son to marry. If there

was such a daughter, the wedding could be held soon thereafter.53 Often, the wedding was the first time the groom and bride met. One elderly subject from the more Kuwaiti town of Jahra recounted that in 1963, at the age of 20, he came home from work to be

53 While interviewees speculated that it might occur in peripheral areas, forced marriages in Kuwait and Oman are rare. In Kuwait, if a woman refuses to marry a man, the process is concluded. In the words of several interviewees, “That’s it. It’s over.” In Oman, al-Azri notes “various indications…forced marriage and marriage below the age of 18 continues to be practiced.” See: Khalid M. Al-Azri, Social and Gender Inequality in Oman: The Power of Religious and Political Tradition (New York: Routledge, 2013): 77.

37 told by his family he was getting married. He did so a few hours later. to his then 18-

year old wife. 54

Marriage with up to four women is permissible in Islam. However, this is increasingly rare in the Gulf, largely for both financial and social reasons. Today, marriage also involves more agency on the part of the bride and groom. A man will often ask his mother to contact the woman’s family to set up a meeting. He may have met the woman at university, work, or at a large family gathering. In the 21st century, some couples in both

Kuwait and Oman also make first contact online - via social media or sometimes in in-

ternet chat rooms.55 The couple may meet informally, but the man will initiate the

“formal” meeting between the families after the couple decides they might be interested in marriage. The two will then meet in the presence of close relatives, and perhaps once or twice more if the first meeting is a success. During this time the couple may exchange phone numbers. If the family and the couple decide to proceed, the engagement and marriage date will be set at a gathering called a khutba. The official legal marriage ceremony is known as a milke in Oman or a milche in Kuwait. The men’s ceremony involves signing the legal documents of marriage and congratulations from the extended family. The women’s ceremony involves a small party with a similar congratulatory function. The actual wedding party, or hafla is also usually separate, though rarely some families in Kuwait will have them jointly. Dowries are paid from the groom or his fami-

54 Interview (34), Jahra, Kuwait, January 12, 2014.

55 Interview (27), al-Khuweir, Oman, March 19, 2014.

38 ly to the bride, consistent with Islamic tradition. Unlike in the West, a married woman in the Gulf keeps her family name. Her children, however, will have her husband’s family name.

The ties of marriage also have important implications for alliances between families that may stretch back generations. Even in a contemporary context, members of the same or similar families are encouraged to marry each other. Marriage within a family preserves its exclusivity and thus its strength. The marriage is an alliance between two families that are already part of the kinship structure, so no diffusion of resources occurs. It also strengthens internal relations in the family and prevents internal splits or divisions.

At the highest levels, marriages for explicitly political reasons strengthens relations between different kinship groups. For example, Sheikh Jabber al-Mubarak al-Hamad al-

Sabah, Kuwait’s Prime Minister, married Mutairi women while Mohammed Shahrar, a

Mutairi, was head of the Council of Ministers.56 Such a marriage created an alliance that dis-incentivized antagonism between the speaker and the royal family.

Social Sanctions

Like many membership groups, authoritative kinship groups have mechanisms to enforce certain standards of behavior. Deviation from these standards in the kinship-influ-

56 Interview (35), Salmiya, Kuwait, February 24, 2014.

39 enced societies of the Gulf is designated ‘aib. While the phrase haram indicates behavior forbidden by Islam, ‘aib is a largely non-religious sanction based on local and re-

gional tradition. It is also open to change based on social context and time.57 Engaging in behavior that is ’aib can damage the reputation of both an individual and his family, though the extent depends on the severity of the ‘aib and in some cases the prominence of the person who committed it. ‘Aib is a social sanction which enforces desirable behavior - that which preserves the reputation of the authoritative kinship group. To preserve one’s individual and group reputation is very important since this reputation impacts all members of the group.

In particular, a woman’s sexual chasteness and reputation for discretion (sexual and otherwise) are of paramount importance. Honor and reputation often come back to sexual discretion and Gulf societies are not different from the norm in this regard. Howev- er, while both Kuwaiti and Omani female interviewees believed that the pressure was disproportionate on women, they did not describe it in the language of “oppression.”

Rather, it was described as more of a double standard or unfair practice. As a female

Kuwaiti university student, put it:

“A girl cannot openly date but a guy can. It’s counterproductive, I don’t know how, because his girlfriend is a girl.” 58

57 An Omani woman in Muscat would not be expected to cover her face in public. However, for the same woman to bear her face in her family’s village could be considered ‘aib. Interview, al-Khuweir, Oman, March 19, 2014.

58 Interview (52), Salmiya, Kuwait, March 6, 2014.

40 A female Omani student framed it similarly:

“For girls, they judge everything. For men its important but it’s not a big a deal...Guys can talk to girls but girls should never talk to the guy.”59

There are sayings describing society’s relative leniency for men versus women. In

Kuwait, the phrase ‘aib manqoul means an ‘aib that a man will commit by virtue of being a man. This idea is similar to the Western saying “boys will be boys.” Another phrase, which one Omani subject explained, is “aib al-rijaal f’il jaib,” or the man’s

‘aib is in his pocket.60 That is, it can be hidden away, at least to some extent. For example, if an Omani man smokes in Muscat, it is technically ‘aib but he faces little sanction

for it. A woman smoking, on the other hand, would face a greater social sanction.61

However, Omanis also point out that while women face more pressure than men, both

genders have social expectations not to engage in behavior considered ‘aib.62

Religion and Kinship

Islamic law and tradition mediate certain aspects of kinship-based politics in the Gulf.

For example, the amount of money to be paid as compensation for a murder (known as diya, or blood ransom) is based on verses in the Qur’an [al-Nisaa’ (2:92-93)]. In addi-

59 Interview (87), German University of Technology, Oman, March 26, 2014.

60 Interview (27), al-Khuweir, Oman, March 19, 2014. Other Omanis were not familiar with the phrase or mentioned it was not “Omani” per se.

61 Interview (92), Ramal Boshar, Oman, March 28, 2014.

62 Interview (46), Ramal Boshar, Oman, March 24, 2014.

41 tion, a dowry (mahr) is given from the groom or his family to the bride a practice consistent with Islamic tradition and also in the Qur’an [al-Nissa’ (4:4)].

However, religion is not the sole basis of customs surrounding kinship in the Gulf.

While Islam permits a man to have up to four wives, such a practice is rare in the young generation of Kuwaitis and Omanis. Tribal and family tradition is also the basis of local regulations and customs alongside religion. For example, while Omani women dress to cover all skin except their hands and face (which are also covered in many parts of

Oman’s interior), they cite adherence to tradition rather than an Islamic mandate as the reason for doing so. Some woman will in fact cover their face while in their home town in the interior, but uncover it in Muscat. Thus tradition also plays an important role in kinship politics that should not be confused with religion.

This chapter has provided academic and empirical background on kinship politics, and how these politics manifest themselves in the Arab Gulf. It defines kinship as the genuine belief in familial connections between members of a political unit, defined by a reference to a distant apical ancestor. The chapter then explained how these processes are often shaped by social factors in Oman and Kuwait. In the subsequent chapters, I explain how these conceptions of kinship manifest themselves in the state building process under certain conditions, and how political scientists can understand variation in this manifestation.

42 Chapter 4: Theoretical Model

This chapter presents a model of kinship salience which highlights the role of access to vital limited resources. It argues that when groups have what I refer to as “cooperative access” prior to state building, the resulting bureaucratic institutions give kinship identity weak political salience. In contrast, when groups have what I refer to as “competitive access” to resources before state building, kinship identity develops strong political salience. The chapter begins with an explanation of kinship in the context of this model.

It then presents the model itself and explains scope conditions under which the model’s predictions are valid.

Dependent Variable: Salience of Kinship Identity

Salience of kinship identity is the dependent variable (DV), and here it refers specifically

to political salience of kinship identity in a state.63 Groups seeking to solve collective action problems use hierarchies based on kinship identity as a means of creating coordination. Kinship identity is super-sticky, and thus such hierarchies are durable. The usage of kinship identity becomes politically salient because it generates kinship authority, an institution compelling those who share the kinship identity to advance the interests of the group and its members. This authority can be observed via kinship practice - a set of observable behaviors motivated by kinship authority. Kinship identity, as a solution to

63 Despite its frequent usage, salience is notoriously difficult to define. It originally appears in survey research on voter preferences. However, the term suffers from both conceptual and metric ambiguity. While both “importance” and “prominence” are components of salience, Wlezian (2005) notes that “prominence is not completely orthogonal to importance; it is different, however.”See: Christopher Wlezien, “On the Salience of Political Issues: The Problem With ‘Most Important Problem,” Electoral Studies 24 (2005): 557.

43 collective action problems, generates kinship authority for all cases that this model describes.

Kinship groups serve as the basis of both social and political orders in kinship-based societies. While the political and social spheres are impossible to disentangle completely, I attempt to discern what expressions of kinship are or ought to be of interest to political science. In that light, I consider kinship’s role to be political when its function is the al-

location of resources or access.64 These resources may be tangible (water, housing) or intangible (political inﬂuence). In contrast, kinship’s role is social when it affects something other than the allocation of resources and access, but speciﬁcally when it relates to repeated patterns of group interaction, historical legacies, or status for the sake of respect or attention, but not resources or access per se.

In saying kinship identity has political salience, I mean that individuals in a society can make use of their identity in a kinship hierarchy to get resources or access. This identity manifests itself in two ways, both of which are important to the salience of kinship.

First, personal kinship ties command authority by putting kinship group members in proximity with powerful members of the group. They also compel those powerful members to leverage their resources and access on behalf of those to whom they have personal kinship ties. Second, impersonal kinship ties command authority by categorizing

64 This definition follows Al-Naqeeb (1992), who highlights political tribalism as an organizing mechanism for resource distribution in: Khaldoun al-Naqeeb, “Political Tribalism and Legitimacy in the Arab Peninsu- la,” (presentation, Council on Foreign Relations, New York, NY, January, 1992).

44 multiple individuals within a given group indicated by a common family or tribal name.

Members of these groups may not have direct personal kinship ties but are compelled by kinship authority to cooperate with regards to resources and access. Personal and impersonal kinship operate in different ways but they are both vectors of kinship authority. In this analysis, they both matter to determining the political salience of kinship authority.

Kinship identity is the basis of political authority within hierarchical kinship institutions.

It compels members of a kinship group, when requested, to provide access or resources.

Members of a kinship group can appeal to other members of their kinship group, including its leaders, or invoking the status of their kinship group with some other authority.

These actions are examples of the performance of kinship.

Kinship performance is an observable outcome of when kinship identity has strong and weak salience. It is important to be able to distinguish between the observable outcomes of strong and weak political salience. The performance of kinship does not create salience but rather serves as an observable outcome of salience. Documents and in-person interviews across time periods can establish baselines for this performance before state building that can be compared to performance afterward. When kinship identity has strong salience after state building, we would expect statements by kinship group members or observers stating that kinship identity is a primary means of obtaining resources and access. They would also include indirect statements - mentioning that a relative used personal kinship ties to obtain a resource or access, for example. This salience should be

45 reflected at multiple levels of society, from the leadership down to individual citizens. In contrast, kinship identity would have weak salience if such documents and interviews revealed that over time, individuals used less kinship-based and more bureaucratic procedures of governance to obtain resources and access. Kinship will still be salient, but it would not be the primary means of obtaining goods and access. Rather, regional, national, or professional identity might be a more common means of obtaining good and access. The salience of kinship in the pre-state building period is the baseline for evaluating salience in the post-state building period. I address the minimum bounds of salience in the subsequent section on scope conditions.

The Importance of Kinship

Kinship was the traditional means of governance in many regions, including the Arab

Gulf. Membership in a kinship group granted access to the vital and limited resources controlled by that group. Kinship facilitated this management effectively because it was

what Chandra (2011) refers to as both “sticky” and “visible.”65 Kinship is sticky (hard to change) because it is based on a lineage network. Lineage networks may be falsified and the relevance of a given lineage may change over time, but it is much more difficult to change than attributes like political affiliation, language, or social class. Kinship is “vis-

ible” (easy to ascertain) in that it is often coded within a person’s name.66 It can also be

65 “Introduction,” in Constructivist Theories of Ethnic Politics, ed. Kanchan Chandra, (New York: Oxford University Press, 2012): 14.

66 The name of Kuwait’s Emir, for example is Sabah al-Ahmed al-Jaber al-Sabah. This name can be decod- ed as Sabah, son of Ahmed, grandson of Jaber of the al-Sabah family. Oman standardized the use of three names (son, father, family) following the 1970 coup.

46 verified easily in conversation. Interviewees consistently stated that to determine whether someone was in fact a member of their family or tribe, they would ask them,

“who is your grandfather?” The reference to an common ancestor made it easy for them

to determine whether the person was part of a given kinship network.67

While patterns of resource access were the original basis of kinship’s political salience, other factors impacted salience as well. The creation of new governments, the discovery of oil, and changes in resource availability all shaped manifestations of kinship salience after state building. However, the importance of these factors for the salience of kinship after state building were constrained by patterns of resource access.

Kinship identity impacts the way people in a state obtain resources. These pathways were critical to state formation in regions where authoritative kinship had a presence, since ruling families often depended on the allegiance of these kinship groups to develop the state apparatus. Additionally, the relationship between states and authoritative kinship groups during state formation reafﬁrmed previously salient aspects of kinship, with effects that are still observable. Understanding variation in these observations has implications for research on state building and contributes to existing work on authoritative kinship.

67 When asked, “How do you know the person is telling the truth when you ask who their grandfather is,” interviewees indicated a strong social taboo on lying about such a thing.

47 Independent Variable: Patterns of Access to Resources

The independent variable (IV) of the model is the patterns of access to vital limited resources. This access can be either competitive or cooperative. Differences in the way kinship-based hierarchies access vital limited resources among themselves before state building explain variation in kinship salience after state building. The super-sticky nature of kinship identity in such groups does not itself determine the pattern of resource access. However, it does make such patterns difficult for outside influences to change.

Patterns of access are not the only variable that impacts the salience of kinship over a state building period often lasting decades. Specific state decisions about infrastructure building or patronage politics may also have effects. However, patterns of kinship group access to vital limited resources before state building are the critical factor that constrains the causal leverage of these other variables. I limit the model to resources that are vital and limited since these kinds of resources are most essential for the basic functioning of a society. I also focus on resource access patterns among the non-urban populations critical to the success of the state building project.

Whether patterns of access to resources are cooperative or competitive is a function of two elements: a) where the resources are and b) where the people using the resources are. The first element refers to the physical distribution of the resource itself. Resources that are concentrated in a given area are more conducive to cooperative access via collective action than resources that are dispersed. These dispersed resources can be divided territorially rather than through collective action, though this often creates territorial

48 competition. The second element refers to the settlement pattern of the groups using the resources. If groups are settled in the same town or village, they are forced to coordinate over common concerns, which include access to resources. In contrast, if groups are nomadic, they are less reliant on each other and thus less incentivized toward collective action. In such configurations, access to resources tends to be competitive.

Kinship groups obtain vital limited resources through either cooperative or competitive access. As work on nation-building (Weber, 1978; Anderson, 1982) and ethnic politics

(Posner, 2005) demonstrates, bringing non-urban populations under the purview of the bureaucratic state is crucial for state building. Creation of a territorial state requires control over territory, but this control requires the state to gain authority over populations living in that territory. This model treats pre-existing authority structures in non-urban areas as crucial to explaining the political salience of kinship identity. Such an approach is contrary to many existing top-down accounts that treat non-urban populations as passive agents onto whom state power is imposed.

The first pattern of resource access is cooperative. Cooperative access means that groups rely on each other for access to the resource. Cooperative access is not necessarily equi- table or democratic. However, it does require members of different kinship groups col- laborating to distribute vital limited resources. While not always the case, cooperative access often exists before state building in agrarian societies where multiple kinship groups live in the same town or village. These groups cooperate in order to a) make the

49 resource available in the town or village and b) distribute it among group members. Re-

gardless of type, efficient resource distribution necessitates collective action.68 This collective action is best facilitated by a third party that oversees and administers the distribution process. I refer to this third party as a “proto-bureaucracy.”

Proto-bureaucracies can take a variety of forms, and they are not the ministries or agen- cies the term “bureaucracy” typically evokes. Proto-bureaucracies are often quite small and administer a relatively small set of functions. However, Weber argues that “bureau-

cratic administration means fundamentally domination through knowledge.”69 Proto-bureaucracies meet this basic technical standard of employing individuals (“officials”) on the basis of technical knowledge and expertise. I examine cases in which, during state building, the state brings these institutions under the purview of national bureaucratic governance. Such a policy is efficient for the state since it is taking advantage of pre-existing institutions that are widely accepted by the local population. In integrating proto- bureaucracies into the state apparatus, bureaucratic authority gains importance and kinship authority becomes less useful to kinship group members. Whereas before these members would make use of tribal ties to gain resources and access, they now make use of state institutions. Thus, when cooperative access exists before state building, kinship salience will be weak when state building is completed.

68 Mancur Olsen, The Logic of Collective Action (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1965): 7.

69 Max Weber, Economy and Society, ed. Guenther Roth and Claus Wittich (Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1963): 225.

50 Competitive access means that different groups are in ongoing conflict for access to resources. While members of landed societies may occasionally fight to change status quo resource allocations, competitive access refers to situations where allocation is consistently dynamic. These contestations can be both violent and non-violent. While certain norms may regulate processes of conflict resolution, there is no third-party authority mandating bureaucratic solutions to these disputes. This pattern of competitive access often exists in nomadic or migratory societies, since access to resources in such cases tends to be within rather than across kinship groups. When competitive access exists, the state will reach out to the kinship groups themselves. In approaching them as kinship groups, however, the state will allow for kinship identity to perpetuate. This is because the benefits of maintaining kinship as an identity remain in place in the absence of pro- to-bureaucracy. Thus, when cooperative access exists before state building, kinship salience will be strong when state building is completed.

In that both the independent and dependent variables relate to resource access, the causal claim I am making must be specified carefully to avoid endogeneity. The causal mechanism in the model is the pattern of access to resources. It is not the salience of kinship identity itself. Both cooperative and competitive patterns of access occur among groups where kinship identity is salient. Thus, the argument is not “if kinship was important before state building it was important after,” since kinship identity was important in both iterations of the independent variable.

51 Furthermore, the endurance of kinship salience with competitive access is not merely path-dependent. Pattens of access constrain but do not alone determine the salience of kinship after state building. State decisions also play a role within the constrains set by resource access patterns. In addition, the settlement patterns alluded to above may also play a role independent of their interaction with resource access patterns. However, resource access patterns are the most important of these variables and constrain the extent of their effects. Thus, they are the focus of my analysis.

State Building Defined

State building has been defined in a plethora of different ways, often as a set of post-

conflict activities undertaken by an outside power.70 However, Chaudhry’s (1997) work on market institutions in the Middle East discusses state building in terms of constructing bureaucracy: “the elimination or cooptation of existing forms of authority and exchange that might challenge the existence of the state and expansion and centralization

of the fiscal, legal and regulatory instruments of the state.”71 I base my definition of state building in these concepts but focus on the physical expansion and centralization of in-

70 For example: Richard Caplan, “International Authority and State Building: The Case of Bosnia and Herzegovina,” Global Governance 10 no. 1 (Jan.-Mar. 2004): 53-65; Francis Fukuyama, State-Building: Governance and World Order in the 21st Century (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 2004).

71 Kiren Aziz Chaudhry, The Price of Wealth: Economies and Institutions in the Middle East (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1997): 6.

52 frastructure in particular.72 For the purposes of this project, state building refers to a process by which a state creates or repurposes infrastructure within its borders to expand and centralize its governance. The state undertakes infrastructure building in one of three ways: It can extend these services into areas where the population already lives, it can supplement existing services, and it can create new areas with these services and move populations into these areas. The decision to take each approach is shaped by the ways populations obtain such services before state building, and how the state interacts with these populations during that time period.

State building is, in many ways, an ongoing process. However, the process of state building reaches a critical minimum at which point the state gains enough administrative control to be the main provider of services such as water and electricity provision, trash collection, records keeping, and land distribution. We can define, for analytical purposes, when state building reaches a critical minimum marking the “end” of the major state building period. Such states will have developed a) settled, or at least non-nomadic, populations b) a national-level bureaucracy for service provision and c) local branches of this bureaucracy that administer non-urban populations.

In many cases, the state building period coincides with a new major inflow of capital.

This inflow can be revenue from natural resource extraction, or a subsidy that a colonial

72 Krasner and Risse also note the importance of infrastructure to state building while recognizing the public goods provision this infrastructure facilitates. See: Stephen D. Krasner and Thomas Risse, “External Actors, State-Building, and Service Provision in Areas of Limited Statehood: Introduction,” Governance 27 no. 4 (October 2014): 546.

53 benefactor provides. The state uses these revenues to contract major infrastructure projects that allow it to reach a critical minimum of resource provision. The source and duration of this revenue inflow is observable, which allows us to determine when state building begins and ends. State building infrastructure projects begin with a contract, treaty, law, or edict signed on a certain date. They end when infrastructure projects commissioned under that document are complete, or at least, when construction work on them ceases. When enough projects have been completed to satisfy the three conditions above (settled population, national bureaucracy, local administrative branches), the state can be said to have reached a critical minimum that marks the end of the state building period. Infrastructure building occurs after state building, but it supplements the existing minimum infrastructure created during state building.

While state building can happen in an urban center, this project focuses primarily on kinship authority in non-urban areas. Governing the non-urban population is an important part of a state’s expansion of power within its borders. At the same time, in both

Kuwait and Oman, kinship among urban merchant families was and remains an important facet of social and political life. The empirical chapters which follow explain this historic importance in urban populations and their shifts over time. However, the function of describing these kinship ties among urban populations is to provide context to the story of state formation as it occurred among rural populations.

Even among non-urban populations, different kinship groups may have different kinds of access to vital limited resources. It would not necessarily be surprising to see different

54 kinship groups with different levels of salience in the same state if their historic access to resources differed. Since this dissertation is about why kinship salience endures, any case of kinship salience within a bureaucratic state is relevant. Thus I evaluate cases as

“strong” if any of the observable outcomes of this strength exist.

Before state building, kinship groups provide resources and access to their members.

The state may exist in some very basic form, but there is only a semblance of bureaucratic authority in the state. Kinship groups allocate water in one of two ways, each of which is a value of the independent variable, patterns of access to resources. Speciﬁcal- ly, these resources are distributed via cooperative or competitive access.

During state building, the state also implements programs to establish a national infrastructure. The objective of such programs is for the state to layer successfully its people and its infrastructure with one another. This often proves challenging when populations in a state are highly dispersed or migratory. Because states administer territories, bureaucratic authority has a geographic element. Ministries, power plants, and local offices all exist in physical spaces. For these institutions to successfully administer, they require a population which is settled. Different states approach this problem of administration in different ways, depending on the pre-existing nature of resource provision. In building this national infrastructure, the state is not actively altering the path towards kinship salience one way or the other. Rather, the state is reaffirming pre-existing kin-

55 ship arrangements relating to the allocation of resources and access. In other words, the state’s choices are constrained by pre-existing modes of kinship.

When kinship groups have cooperative access to resources, proto-bureaucracies already administer populations, albeit on a small scale. In such cases, the state will expand and improve existing methods of distribution since it is less costly both financially and politically than creating an entirely new system. New and larger systems of service provision may co-exist with or even co-opt proto-bureaucracies but will be based on existing allocation networks which proto-bureaucracies administered.

This process reduces the political salience of kinship. While proto-bureaucracies are a prerequisite for this reduction, the shift of kinship identity from a politically to a socially salient characteristic occurs during state building. Service provision and the bureaucratization of society prompt identity shifts which emphasize the geographic and de-emphasize kinship. Since the population being served already lives in the geographic area being developed, it is relatively accepting of this shift towards a geography-based identity and means of service provision. These shifts do not erase kinship authority, but rather redefine it in terms of social versus political salience.

In contrast, when kinship groups have competitive access to resources, the state must create not only infrastructure but also a plan for linking people with the system. Having infrastructure in places where it will not be utilized has little value to the state. In such cases, the state may sedentarize (settle) kinship groups in areas that are equipped with infrastructure for service provision. Sedentarization is often treated as a turning point in

56 state building where the state realigns social identities to make populations easier to administer in a bureaucratic context. It is often easier to move people onto an infrastructure grid than to extend the grid to every cluster of people within the state.

However, when groups compete over access to resources, kinship remains salient for two reasons. First, sedentarization requires reaching out to these groups as kinship groups prior to and during the sedentarization process. In rentier states with kinship groups, the distribution of goods is most easily accomplished via pre-existing kinship networks. Additionally, the state may face pressure from kinship groups if it tries to in- terfere in kinship identity, and the cost of this pressure might not be worth the benefits.

Second, these kinship groups move into areas to which they may not have any historic ties. While over time group members’ identity may emphasize the geographic component, their ties to fellow kin-group members in the state remain politically salient.

At the end of state building process, kinship networks continue to exist. Yet the ways in which these networks are useful politically varies depending on the extent to which access to vital limited resources was cooperative or competitive. In states where proto-bureaucracies formed the basis of resource access, and such distribution was afﬁrmed during state building, kinship will have weak political salience.

In contrast, where kinship formed the basis of resource access through state building, it will have strong political salience. The greater political utility of a personal relationship in this case gives an actor greater means to obtain resources and access, and creates dif-

57 ferent conﬁgurations of relative power within the society. The following table summa- rizes the causal chain for each value of the IV and DV.

IV Before State Building During State Building After State Building (DV)

Cooperative Protobureaucracies State distribution Kinship identity has weak Access to distribute resources. apparatus enhances political salience. Resources existing networks, reducing kinship salience.

Competitive Kinship networks State distribution Kinship identity has strong Access to distribute resources. apparatus creates political salience. Resources new networks, maintaining kinship salience.

Figure 1: Hypothesized Outcomes of Resource Access on Kinship Salience

Scope Conditions

This model is developed based on a particular set of cases and a particular set of conceptions about kinship and resources. Therefore, it is applicable to a certain set of cases.

Defining these cases is important for assessing the validity of the model. It also helps scholars assess the generalizability of the argument. In this regard, there are some scope conditions - “circumstances under which the relationship expressed in a hypothesis is

expected to hold true” - that apply to the model. 73

Kuwait and Oman are fascinating countries, but can they tell political scientists about kinship politics in general? Clearly neither case speaks to every example of state build-

73 Martha Foschi, “On Scope Conditions,” Small Group Research 28 no. 4 (Nov., 1997): 537.

58 ing in kinship-based societies. To improve the analytical utility of the analysis, this chapter specifies the conditions under which the model applies. These scope conditions help define a clearer universe of cases in which we would expect the observed outcomes in this project. It also identifies the relevant assumptions of the analysis upon which its conclusions are based.

State building and development can take many forms.74 However, the universe of cases for this model include states with a particular path of state building. First, these states had authoritative kinship groups prior to state building. The groups were not created by the state itself although state building may have altered them. These groups made use of vital limited resources and distributed them through kinship-based hierarchies. In other words, kinship in such groups was not merely socially salient but politically salient as well.

When state building occurred, impersonal government was imposed via an exogenous shock - for example, a coup, colonial intervention, or third-party management of national affairs. The power of this government meets a “Goldilocks” standard. That is, it was strong enough to fund, plan, and build bureaucratic infrastructure in non-urban areas.

However, it was not strong enough to completely destroy kinship-based hierarchical groups.

74 Charles Tilly, Coercion, Capital, and European States AD 990-1992 (Cambridge, MA: Blackwell, 1992): 7.

59 As a result, kinship authority was not destroyed in such states at the end of the state building period. Rather, it effectively co-existed with bureaucratic authority to a greater or lesser extent. Certain aspects of kinship authority may have been co-opted by the state

(for example, making sheikhs officials of the Ministry of Interior), but the power of kinship-based hierarchies remains intact.

Evaluating Salience

Evaluating whether kinship identity has strong or weak political salience after state building requires looking at four levels of politics in the state: Ruling family, national

government, regional government, and personal politics.75 For each level, what matters is a) the extent to which kinship authority is used to obtained resources and access and b) whether kinship is the preferred means of obtaining them. Bureaucracy or non-kinship patronage may also be useful for obtaining goods and resources. These alternatives become more attractive after state building since the state gains control of major resources and political power, and also because the state operates under bureaucratic authority. To code a case as having “strong” salience, there must be evidence that kinship authority remains a preferred means of access at some level of governance. Since the state is deliberately created to be bureaucratic, salient kinship authority in bureaucratic institutions carries more analytical weight. In other words, it would be stronger evidence for kinship to be salient in an institution created as a bureaucracy (e.g. a parliament) than

75 I define each of these levels and give examples of salience for each in the next chapter.

60 for it to be salient in personal ties that have no bureaucratic element. For a case to be coded as “weak” salience, there must be evidence that kinship plays an overwhelmingly social rather than political function across all four levels.

The strongest evidence is examples of personal ties continuing to be used to obtain resources or access when we would otherwise expect a bureaucratic state to provide it. Ex- amples of such resources and access include jobs, social welfare, and political representation. Marriage, in contrast, is an aspect of personal politics where kinship authority is salient but in a way that carries relatively lower evidentiary power. Since marriage is not bureaucratic (although it is regulated somewhat by bureaucratic authority) it is less compelling evidence that kinship’s salience is strong in a given case.

These guidelines belie the ambiguity of coding the political salience of kinship identity.

In devising a binary coding scheme, there is a risk that certain nuances of salience may be lost. However, this is a justiﬁed methodological tradeoff given that generalizability and replicability also matter in political science. While the model might not be able to generalize about particular nuances of salience, a binary coding scheme makes it more likely that multiple researchers would arrive at similar coding decisions about a certain case given the same evidence. Especially given that the heuristics of the model are new, it is important to demonstrate that the procedure of coding code cases is replicable. The next section grounds the research design in an informed methodological context.

61 Chapter 5: Research Design and Methodology

The objective of this dissertation is to determine whether resource distribution networks impact the political salience of kinship identity. Operationalizing these variables within the context of a falsifiable research design establishes the validity of the model. This chapter describes the methodology by which the model is tested.

Case Selection

The effects of the patterns of access to resources can be complicated by other factors. To control for these intervening variables, I examine two cases in the same region that are similar in most respects but different with regards to kinship identity. This approach, a most similar case comparison lets us explore variation of the independent and dependent

variables while holding most other factors constant.76 I examine Oman as a case of cooperative resource access and Kuwait as a case of competitive resource access.

The major limitations of a most similar comparison are twofold. First, it is sometimes impossible to find cases with “matching variables” that align except for the independent and dependent variable. The states in this project are such cases because of the historical breadth and depth of the project. However, Gerring and Seawright (2008) note that “researchers may employ approximate matching” by “finding cases that share a similar estimated probability of having been in the treatment group, conditional on the matching

76 Jason Seawright and John Gerring, “Case Selection Techniques in Case Study Research: A Menu of Qualitative and Quantitative Options,” Political Research Quarterly 61 no. 2 (June 2008): 304.

62 variables.” 77 For this project, kinship groups with cooperative access to resources are in the treatment group, while groups with competitive access are in the control group. Ger- ring and Seawright’s approach to approximate matching is quantitative, but the principle behind it is to assess whether any variables other than the independent variable in the control case would exclude it from consideration as a treatment case. I make this assessment below, and conclude that Kuwait and Oman are similar.

The second limitation of a most similar case selection strategy is that the findings are less generalizable than other selection strategies. This is because cases outside the comparison may not hold constant the variables matched in the comparison. However, by specifying these factors, we can create a baseline finding upon which other research can build by adding more variation into the model. In addition, I provide shadow cases as evidence that the universe of roughly matching cases is sufficiently large that the analysis makes a valuable intervention in our understanding of politics rather than just the cases at hand.

I select cases from the Arab Gulf. The region has been the site of other major studies of kinship politics and state formation by Western scholars as well as scholars from the region itself. This means that the analysis in this dissertation is being conducted from within the same set of cases as existing work, making comparisons between them easier.

Furthermore, water resources in the Arab Gulf are a quintessential example of the vital

77 Seawright and Gerring, 305.

63 limited resources theorized in the model. Water is vital for basic survival, and in the Gulf region it is extremely limited. Different vital limited resources may operate slightly differently or be accessed in slightly different ways from water. However, water is a common example of a vital limited resource and is a good starting point for inquiries into how these resources are accessed. Furthermore, the similarity of cases in the Arab Gulf allows us to control effectively for other variables. While recognizing that the Gulf states are not a monolith, states in the region share similar patterns of tribal organization, state building, and administration that make the region an excellent set of cases for studies of kinship identity and state formation.

The project examines two cases in the Arabian Peninsula, one where kinship identity has strong political salience and one where it has weak political salience. This variation is

critical to avoiding selection on the dependent variable.78 In particular, the project examines Oman and Kuwait. Oman and Kuwait vary in terms of the political salience of kinship identity. While in Oman, kinship identity has weak political salience, Kuwait’s kinship identity has strong salience. This variation creates an opportunity to study why endurance occurred in Kuwait but not Oman. Both countries have extensive kinship networks that been the subject of attention by multiple historians and social scientists.

There are copious archival records on each that provide ample data for studying each society before and during state building. This availability of evidence is critical for not

78 See: Barbara Geddes, “How the Cases You Choose Affect the Answers You Get: Selection Bias in Com- parative Politics,” Political Analysis 2 no. 1 (1990): 131-150.

64 only establishing the validity of the model, but for falsifiability as well. More data gives us a more complete picture of the causal processes at work, and thus makes it easier to assess whether the model is accurate.

Oman and Kuwait are not the only two Arab Gulf states with a history of tribal politics before, during, and after state building. However, they provide the best comparison that holds other exogenous factors constant. Other cases have patterns of resource access, kinship identity, and state formation that make them less strong matches for comparison.

For example, Saudi Arabia, the largest of the Arab Gulf states, has extensive tribal politics. However, state building in Saudi Arabia was very different than other patterns of state building in the Gulf. While most Gulf states developed under the auspices of Eu- ropean tutelage, Saudi Arabia developed through a series of clashes between the al Saud and local tribal groups. Some of these groups, most notably the Al Rashid, controlled territory of their own and had established states. While the British supported the Al

Saud, their role as exogenous actors was not as strong as in Kuwait and Oman. In addition, by the time of the Treaty of Darin in 1915, Ibn Saud had already captured the capital Riyadh and defeated gained the support of the Ikhwan - a group of tribal religious fighters who played a key role in state building unlike that in other Gulf states.

Other states in the region are difficult to compare because of the nature of their state building process. The Trucial States, later the United Arab Emirates, have a federated system of governance unique in the region. Each emirate has considerable autonomy

65 from the capital in Abu Dhabi. This decentralization of power and significant sub-state variation makes comparison with other states in the Gulf difficult. Yemen also remained decentralized for much of the 20th century and state building took a path replete with exogenous shocks. As the British Colony of Aden, the territory was divided into 23 prin- cipalities and had three governing bodies. State building was punctuated by the seces- sion of the People’s Democratic Republic of Yemen in 1967 and a subsequent civil war.

Even after unification in 1990, authority in the Republic of Yemen remained decentralized and central governance remained weak.

Bahrain differs considerably less than the Emirates and Yemen. It had a period of state building and has a centralized government. It also has kinship politics that are similar to those in other Gulf states. However, Bahrain’s geography makes comparisons of its society difficult. Firstly, Bahrain is an island - the only land access is over the 16-mile (25 km) King Fahd Causeway from Saudi Arabia that opened in 1986. This means that patterns of tribal migration were different in Bahrain than in other Gulf states with land borders, which might affect patterns of resource access. Second, Bahrain is very small - about 295 square miles (765 square km) - or roughly the size of Charlotte, North Caroli- na. This small size makes it difficult to compare Bahrain’s non-urban populations with those in other states since they were much more proximate to the urban center. By way of comparison, Kuwait is roughly the size of New Jersey, and Oman is roughly the size of Arizona.

66 Qatar and Iran are both useful points of comparison to Kuwait and Oman. However, while many of Qatar’s archival documents are now available online, access to information about state formation and kinship identity in Qatar itself remains more limited than

Kuwait. Iran shares many similarities with Oman, but its tribal systems differ slightly, and its state building process involved multiple cases of outside interference to impose new leadership. Political tensions between Iran and the West also make it difficult to conduct research there, as does the need to have research capacities in Farsi. I thus consider Qatar and Iran (as well as Somalia) as regional shadow cases, but focus on Kuwait and Oman as my major cases of comparison.

In contrast to these cases, Oman and Kuwait share a number of factors in common that make them useful for a comparative study of kinship authority and state building. Most importantly, water is a vital limited resource in both, and kinship groups were important to resource access in both places before state building. Yet they differ on the outcome of interest. While kinship identity is politically salient in Kuwait, it takes on a social salience in Oman.

With regards to relevant “matching” variables, Kuwait and Oman are approximately similar. They both had non-urban kinship groups that interacted with the state during the state building process. This element is critical for testing alternate explanations of state penetration. In many cases, these populations included nomadic groups. Kuwait’s nomadic tribes hailed from modern-day southern Iraq and northern Saudi Arabia’s Nejd

67 Desert. Oman’s nomadic tribes generally inhabited the interior (Dakhlia), the eastern

Sharkia province, or mountainous regions including the Jebel Akhdar. These tribal groups would move from place in search of food and water for themselves and their livestock. They lived in large tents, each known as a beit she’ar, and thrived in an ex- ceedingly difficult climate. Wilfred Thesiger, a British explorer, described the Rashid tribe with whom he interacted during his 1959 excursion through Oman’s interior: “they have been bred from the purest race in the world, and lived under conditions where only the hardiest and best could possible survive. They were as fine-drawn and highly-string

as thoroughbreds.”79

Kuwait and Oman also had seasonally migrant populations. In both cases, these tribal groups would spend the summer months in settlements along the coast and the winter months inland. On the sea they would engage in pearl diving or farming, while in the desert they would raise sheep or camels. Unlike their nomadic counterparts, the groups would only move seasonally.

The key population for this analysis are settled non-urban populations. Here there are some differences between Kuwait and Oman. Oman had many such populations living in agriculturally-based villages and towns throughout its non-urban areas. Kuwait, which was much smaller, had less such settlements. The town of Jahra, about 23 miles from

Kuwait City, still has small areas of farmland, as does the town of Wafra on Kuwait’s

79 Wilferd Thesiger, Arabian Sands (Great Britain: Longmans, Green, 1959): Ch. 3.

68 southern border with Saudi Arabia. However, given Jahra’s importance in the establishment of Kuwait (in particular, the Battle of Jahra in 1920), the similarities are enough to provide a point of comparison based on the kind of access to vital limited resources. In other words, the salience of kinship is not merely a function of whether a state has a rural agricultural population. Rather, that population must distribute goods and access in a particular (concentrated) way.

On the major variables listed above, Oman and Kuwait are comparable. Some differences do exist, however. Firstly, Oman is considerably bigger than Kuwait. Oman’s leadership needed to project power into a wider area than did Kuwait’s leadership. In addition, while many of Oman’s tribes exist within the states borders, Kuwait’s small size means that some of its tribes are split between Kuwait, Saudi Arabia, and Iraq.

However, my argument is based on the kind of resource access network rather than its size. What truly matters is whether access to resources within the purview of kinship structures was competitive or cooperative.

From a research perspective, Kuwait and Oman are good choices as well. Data availability itself is not a good reason to choose a case, but it is an important practical consideration when considering the feasibility of cases that best test a given theoretical model.

This consideration became especially important given that I conducted field work in the wake of the 2011 Arab Uprisings. After the uprisings, many Western researchers in the region were viewed with suspicion and some were denied access to Gulf countries.

69 However, Kuwait has one of the most open political discourses in the region, and a history of scholarship by academics from the country. These factors, along with extensive

British archival records, made available data on the case extensive. Oman, while more restrictive than Kuwait, has recently encouraged scholarship on its water distribution system and holds it in high regard. This made researching access to water in Oman more feasible than other topics might have been. While the internal workings of the Omani government are often opaque, a combination of archival work and interviews was helpful in establishing the role of kinship identity in the country after state building.

Operationalization of Variables

Endurance is a measure of whether kinship continues to be salient. Both of the cases I look at are ones of endurance because there is a baseline level of salience (one of the three scope conditions for the model). Salience is the extent to which kinship identity is a useful basis for achieving objectives of governance, in particular the allocation of resources. I conceptualize the variable as binary: “strong salience” or “weak salience.”

Salience relates to the allocation of resources, meaning that it has two participants, the allocating agent and those to whom the resource is being allocated. Salience is the extent to which an agent can use kinship institutions to allocate resources plus the extent to which another agent can use those institutions to obtain resources.

Salience is performative. If kinship identity is salient, people will act as if it is salient.

They will use ties created by a common kinship identity in preferential ways to obtain

70 access and resources. If kinship identity is not salient, they will not use these ties in preferential ways. Neither outcome precludes the existence of kinship ties - rather, the question is one of what these ties are used for and with what likelihood.

I employ a systematic comparison of kinship identity across four levels in Kuwait and

Oman. I examine kinship identity’s role in four broad institutions. First, I assess the role of kinship identity as it is used by the ruling families in both states. Strong salience at this level means that royal family members are given preferential treatment, including preference for hiring or government handouts. They are highly represented across the state’s governing institutions. Second, I examine kinship identity’s importance in the national government - specifically parliaments and ministries. It also includes national administration of the state (for example, provision of desalinated water and electricity).

Strong salience at this level means that kinship identity may be an important factor for who holds power in these institutions. Parliaments will often have members elected by tribal constituencies or influential families. Ministries will be led by members of influential families, and kinship ties will be a significant factor impacting who can get a given job in certain ministries. Third, I examine regional government - municipalities and major town and city governments within the state. Strong salience at this level means that appointments to these administrations are often based on kinship identity, and group members give preferential treatment to members of the same kinship group. Finally, I examine personal politics, which involves individuals and their invocation of kinship identity to obtain access and resources. Salience at this level means that members of kin-

71 ship groups interact at regular family gatherings, and act as if under obligation to provide preferential treatment for fellow group members. They may do favors and make professional or political connections. This leveled approach allows for a more systematic comparison of the Kuwait and Oman cases, and also operationalizes the dependent variable in a way that can be used easily in other cases.

Assessing salience over time involves, firstly, examining which kinship structures endure through state formation. Second, it involves assessing the structures distributing agents use to allocate resources. For example, if evidence reveals that certain kinship groups receive government payouts or special access to the social welfare apparatus of the state, these would indicate that kinship is used as a structure to allocate resources.

Third, salience involves the extent to which receiving agents use kinship institutions to obtain resources. For example, if jobs require connections with influential people

(wasta) to obtain, or election results fall heavily along tribal lines, these would both be

evidence that recipients of resources use kinship structures to obtain them.80

This dissertation examines states with two different outcomes. If it is correct, we would expect to find that in the case of kinship salience, access to resources was competitive.

In the case of no kinship salience, we would expect to find that access to resources is

80 The term “wasta” comes from the Arabic root for “central,” indicating that one with wasta has central- ity in an interpersonal network, affording them connections to others in that network.

72 cooperative. If resource access is cooperative in the former case or competitive in the latter, it would falsify the model and we would reject the alternate hypothesis.

Qualitative Versus Quantitative Analysis

The question of kinship salience is a qualitative one. Quantitative approaches to studying kinship salience create limited opportunities for inference. While theoretically one could represent cooperative versus competitive resource access as a dummy variable

(coded 0 or 1), salience is not so easily quantified. The endurance of kinship salience means the extent to which the structures of kinship authority remain useful for achieving objectives of governance, and in particular the allocation of resources. One way to quantitatively measure salience would be to use proxy variables. Proxies are metrics that are expected to strongly co-vary with the independent variable. One could proxy salience by looking at the percentages of Kuwaitis voting for tribal candidates, or asking survey questions to a representative sample of Kuwaitis about how often they engage various kinship structures. The drawback to proxies, however, is that they may not always represent what the researcher is actually studying. To know for sure that a proxy co-varies with a variable, one would have to measure the variable itself. However, since proxies are used when this is not entirely possible, the association is assumed. This assumption in turn raises questions about the extent to which a proxy actually co-varies with the variable. For example, Kuwaitis might vote for a tribal candidate by virtue of kinship salience alone, but also by virtue of basic in-group/out-group dynamics totally independent of kinship. Well-constructed surveys would generate precise data on the specific

73 questions asked, but aggregating the results of each question to a value of salience overall requires similar assumptions.

Another way to quantitatively measure salience would be to construct an index. Yet many metrics of this index would consist of quantitative representations of qualitative metrics. For example, assigning “salience” a 10-point scale still relies on qualitative judgements in assigning a number on that scale to describe a given case. In addition some metrics in the index may be more important than others, but weighting them may also be a matter of qualitative judgement.

The benefit of a qualitative approach to studying kinship salience is that it most appro- priately captures the relevant aspects of the model. Qualitative assessments examine the independent variable itself rather than proxies that may or may not actually co-vary.

Rather than represent salience as a set of weighted proxy metrics, we can simply examine the ways in which kinship is actually salient for each case. This strategy is particularly viable given the small number of cases, and it captures the details of the particular case. Specifically, I employ process tracing as a qualitative method. Process tracing “involves the examination of ‘diagnostic’ pieces of evidence within a case that contribute to

supporting or overturning alternative explanatory hypotheses.”81 Bennett (2010) notes that hypotheses used in process tracing “must be evaluated in relation to a wider body of

81 Andrew Bennett, “Process Tracing and Causal Inference,” in Rethinking Social Inquiry: Diverse Tools, Shared Standards, ed. Henry R. Brady and David Collier (New York: Rowman & Littlefield Publishers, Inc., 2010): 208.

74 evidence” which is “especially important in process tracing…for which participating actors have strong instrumental or ideational reasons for hiding or misrepresenting in-

formation about their behavior or motives.”82

Major drawbacks to a qualitative approaches more generally include replicability and precision. Replicability serves as a check on the validity of a research method. If a model is valid, two scholars should be able to conduct the same research and come up with the same outcome. Replicability is also a form of transparency - two different outcomes from two different researchers indicates an intervening variable or error term in the model that is not articulated. It can also indicate the bias of a researcher or the bias of his data sources. Interviewees speak from personal experience and may have biases of their own that affect how they answer questions. Precision is important both because it helps scholars to know exactly what constitutes a “replicated” experiment. Furthermore, given that the objective of a political science project is causal inference, it is also important to know exactly how much causal leverage a given variable generates. Yet qualitative assessments are not nearly as precise as numerical representations of the presence of a given phenomenon. Both replicability and precision are clear advantages of quantitative assessments, which is one reason they are popular for many research questions in political science.

82 Bennett, 211.

75 These drawbacks cannot be eliminated but they can be minimized, and this project takes steps in this regard. Firstly, it uses archives as a data source. Archives are replicable in that they are public and often available in several locations. A scholar could view the documents on which this project’s assessments are based. If she came to a different conclusion, it could indicate a problem with the validity of this project’s findings. In other words, the accessibility of archives gives this qualitative project a level of transparency.

Also, archives come from a single organization (in this case, the British Foreign Min- istry). This consistency makes it easier to explicitly identify sources of bias within the documents provided. King, Keohane, and Verba (1994) note that “bias occurs when there is a systematic error in the measure that shifts the estimate more in one direction

than another over a set of replications.”83 Using single large archives reduces bias because it allows scholars to precisely identify sources of systematic error that carry

through the entire set of documents by conducting their own analysis.84 Secondly, the conclusions of the dissertation are corroborated among different kinds of sources. They draw upon assessments from multiple sources rather than just one. This approach also serves as a check against the bias of any given source.

83 Gary King, Robert O. Keohane, and Sidney Verba, Designing Social Inquiry: Scientific Inference in Qualitative Research (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1994): 63.

84 That being said, different authors edit different volumes, meaning that there is still some change in bias across each archival volume.

76 Field Work

My dissertation field work was funded by a David L. Boren Fellowship for study of the

Arabic language. The grant provides compensation for travel, housing, transportation, and language study. It is issued by the United States government. Using these funds, I spent six months in Kuwait and about one month in Oman. In December 2013 I took a one-week preliminary trip to Oman to conduct initial research and meet with subject experts. In March 2014, I returned for a longer stay and completed the bulk of my research. In Kuwait, my work was based out of the Gulf Studies Center and the American

University of Kuwait (AUK). I conducted research at the AUK Library, Center for Re- search and Studies of Kuwait, al-Qabas Newspaper Archives, Kuwait Writer’s Associa- tion, and the Center for Gulf and Arabian Peninsula Studies Archive at Kuwait Universi- ty. As part of my archival research, I used several British Cambridge Archive Edition records. These consisted primarily of correspondence between political agents and residents in the Arabian Gulf, and contact with the Foreign Ministry headquarters at White- hall in London. Some archives included documents from the Kuwaiti government itself.

Through interviews, I also obtained local Arabic histories written by Kuwaiti researchers. To corroborate the written texts, I interviewed a combination of academics, researchers, senior Kuwaitis, former government officials, and students. In Oman, I was not affiliated with an institution. However, I conducted research at the library of Sultan

Qaboos University (SQU), and also at the SQU Oman Studies Center. I also spent time at the library of the University of Nizwa, and the archive of the Omani Ministry of Her- itage and Culture. As in Kuwait, I conducted interviews in Oman with a combination of

77 academics, researchers, senior Omanis, former government officials, and students. Giv- en potential sensitivities, I have kept identifying information about these interviewees confidential.

In both Kuwait and Oman I stayed in neighborhoods just outside the city center. In

Kuwait I lived in the Salmiya neighborhood, while in Oman I was based in al-Khuweir, about a twenty minute drive from downtown Muscat. I took trips in both Kuwait and

Oman to peripheral areas. In Kuwait, I made two trips to Jahra, a heavily bedu town forty minutes outside Kuwait City. Kuwait is fairly small and the overwhelming majority of the population lives in Kuwait City. In Oman, I visited Nizwa twice, and made quick stops in Tanuf, Bahla, and Jabrin. In the Muscat area I made three visits to Seeb and one to Ramal Boshar. In addition, many people from Oman’s interior work and study in

Muscat. I had access to Omanis who regularly visited their homes in the interior and other areas of Oman. These included Dhofar in the south and Al-Buraimi in the North.

My research capabilities in Modern Standard Arabic are based on about four years of study. These language skills proved invaluable to both the archival and interview components of my research. Many archival documents are in Arabic, as are local histories. I was able to translate these documents to provide historical details in this dissertation that have not appeared before in English. I held twenty-eight of my fifty-two interviews at least partially in Arabic. In nine of these interviews I had translation help from a Kuwaiti

English speaker. Since many Kuwaitis speak a Gulf dialect that differs from Modern

78 Standard Arabic, this help was important to fully understanding the point a speaker was making. None of the translators accepted compensation for their generous assistance, and three were younger relatives of the speaker. After each interview I translated and transcribed both the interviewer’s comments and the translator’s translation to check for accuracy, and to capture conversations between the translator and the speaker to capture points of potential confusion.

Interview Procedures

I conducted fifty-two interviews in total, and recruited subjects through a combination of personal contacts, snowballing, and cold calls. Since these methods do not yield a ran- dom sample, it was necessary to mitigate the biases inherent in such an approach. I did so by taking steps to ensure I interviewed members of all major groups in both Oman and Kuwait. These included men and women, elderly and youth, Sunni, Shi’a, and Ibad- hi, conservative and liberal, bedu and hadhar, those with large disposable incomes and those with small disposable incomes, tribal sheikhs and tribe members.

My project, including interviews, was approved by a university Institutional Review

Board (IRB) and thus required compliance with US federal laws regarding human subjects research. Neither Kuwait nor Oman have similar protocols for social science work with human subjects. I ensured confidentiality at multiple stages of contact with interviewees. Their personal information was kept separate from their interview transcript, which I assigned a randomly generated number. Both kinds of information were en-

79 crypted and stored in an encrypted file on an encrypted hard drive. I recorded interviews with a recording pen but removed the interview from the pen as soon as possible following the interview. When I held interviews in my office at the American University of

Kuwait, I kept the door closed and affixed a “please do not disturb” sign, and closed the window blinds. I requested consent from the interview subject for this arrangement and asked if they would prefer another location before proceeding. I offered interviewees the beverage of their choice from the on-campus Starbucks Coffee as compensation for their time, though few accepted.

Before starting the interview I asked the subject to review a consent sheet in either Eng- lish or Arabic, and asked if he had any questions. In appropriate cases (as designated by the IRB), I explained the nature of my confidentiality protections verbally in English or

Arabic to the interview subject and asked for consent following the explanation. I made clear that the subject was free to skip any question they did not wish to answer, and subjects were given the option of canceling participation in my research for 24 hours following the interview. The interview usually lasted about an hour, and no longer than two hours.

The interviews were semi-structured in nature. I started by asked about kinship and the importance of kinship to an interviewee. I also asked historical questions such as, “How did your parents meet?” and “Do you recall family gatherings from your childhood?”

Finally, I asked about the interviewee’s thoughts about the future. When appropriate, I

80 asked interviewees, “If you had 1000 KD (about $3500) to give away to members of your family, how would you divide up the money?” This question allowed for a quantitative assessment of the closeness of family ties.

Since the interview was only semi-structured, I would often follow up on statements an interviewee made in response to one of the questions. Thus, even when I asked questions that were not part of the pre-set list, they were directly related to the answers an interviewee gave to those questions. This approach, slightly more inductive in nature, exposed important variables - for example, the importance of migration patterns - that existing scholarly work had not tied to kinship. This mix of deduction and induction also ensured that I was asking about salient variables, since it gave interviewees a chance to suggest their own ideas based on experience and expertise that I did not possess.

My interview questions were designed firstly to identify kinship structures and trace their history. A line of questions in Kuwait, for example, might begin with, “What is a diwaniya?” I would then establish the interviewee’s history with the kinship structure with questions like,“What is the first time you can recall attending a diwaniya? Who attended? How often did you attend?” Second, I would assess the utility of the kinship structure in the present with questions like, “Do you still attend or host a diwaniya?”

This question would be followed by questions about the nature of the diwaniya such as

“How many people attend this diwaniya? How often do you attend diwaniyas in a month?” By asking the same general line of questions to multiple interviewees, I was

81 able to get a sense for these structures, their salience, and their endurance. I then checked these multiple accounts against archival documents and local histories about diwaniyas and (extensive) existing scholarship about them.

If these procedures revealed frequent participation in the diwaniya and using it to obtain resources, that constituted evidence in favor of the political salience of kinship. In contrast, if the procedures revealed infrequent participation in the diwaniya or participation for social rather than political reasons, that constituted evidence against the political salience of kinship.

Limitations of the Sources

Archives have two sources of bias. First, documents may be missing from the archival record by virtue of being lost, or by virtue of being excluded for lack of importance.

Second, the archives themselves are written from a British perspective which is based on firsthand accounts that may not always be verified. they rely on sources who had an interest in aligning closely with the British, which biases the information they gave officials. However, triangulating using interviews and local sources can expose some of these biases. For example, the Awazim tribe had an important historical presence in

Kuwait but is not heavily discussed in the archives because they were a low-status tribe.

Triangulating helps scholars better assess the empirics of the case.

82 Interviews are a subjective account of an interviewee’s experience. As such, the interviewee may remember details of her life differently than they actually occurred. She may cite facts that verification proves inaccurate, and her life experience may bias her answers in certain ways. For example, Sunni and Shi’a subjects tended to be skeptical of each other’s viewpoints, as did bedu and hadhar. In addition, since my interviews took place largely in-country, interviewees may not have felt comfortable expressing their true opinions. Restrictions on criticizing the leadership in both Kuwait and Oman make it difficult to accurately assess people’s sentiments.

As a Western political science Ph.D candidate, my access to certain spaces was limited. I was not able, for example, to speak to many deeply religious women because my presence as a male would have been considered inappropriate. I was also outside of the kinship structures of Oman and Kuwait, which made it difficult to assess participation in the structure as thoroughly as someone who was part of that structure.

I also developed a preliminary set of hypotheses prior to arriving in-country. This meant that my preliminary explanations for political phenomena were not informed by on-the- ground research but rather by scholarly accounts and meetings with residents of the

Gulf, as well as scholars who had recently returned from the region. Some scholarly accounts historically have been tinged by attitudes that Omanis and Kuwaitis often find

“orientalist” or demeaning of the agency of people in the Gulf. Since colonial powers in

83 the region often deployed academics to assess the politics of the region, some interviewees may have associated my work with similar motives.

Despite these biases, I approached field work with an open mind and with as few pre- conceptions as possible. My previous research experience abroad was a helpful guide.

Whenever possible, I deferred to the expertise of local residents and the sensitivities of

family politics.85 One simple question, “would I be comfortable with a researcher publishing this information about my family” was a useful baseline for such considerations.

Omanis and Kuwaitis themselves also offered helpful advice about the potential sensitivity of information and the potential consequences of publishing it. Experts from the region reviewed the questions I asked interviewees, as well as the empirical chapters of this project. These checks provided an additional level of bias mitigation.

Ultimately, the research design of the project accounts for its real and potential methodological pitfalls. I took steps to mitigate limitations and bias by triangulating and using multiple types of sources in as systematic a fashion as possible. These sources were employed in service of a falsifiable model with distinguishable observable outcomes.

Where I could not mitigate limitations or bias, I have stated explicitly what these limitations and biases are to enhance the transparency of my research process. Overall, these

85 I expand on this point in: Scott Weiner, “On Local Frameworks and the Ethics of Accuracy,” in “POMEPS Studies 8: The Ethics of Research in the Middle East,” Project on Middle East Political Science, July 2, 2014.

84 steps preserve the internal validity of the model and present an argument about resources and kinship salience that merit scholarly attention.

85 Chapter 6: Cooperative Access to Resources - Oman

Figure 2: Major Water Sources (Approximate locations) in Oman, 1933

Oman is a Sultanate on the Arabian Peninsula bordered by the Gulf to the east, the Unit- ed Arab Emirates to the northwest, Saudi Arabia to the west, and Yemen to the southwest. Its ruler, the Sultan of Oman, is a member of the al-Said royal family who presides over a Cabinet of ministers and appoints the 83 members of Oman’s upper house of parliament, the Majlis al-Dawla. Oman's lower house is called the Majlis al-Shura and consists of 84 elected members.

86 Oman’s national government dates back to the coup d’etat of 1970 in which Sultan Qa- boos bin Said overthrew his father, Said bin Taymur. With considerable assistance from the British, Qaboos quelled rebellions against the Sultanate in both the North and South of Oman, and accelerated the creation of a bureaucratic state government that projected power throughout the territory. However, key to this state were a set of proto-bureaucracies which arose to allocate the distribution of water. Because the government reached out to these proto-bureaucracies rather than kinship groups themselves during state building, kinship authority has weak political salience in Oman.

The state building process in Oman had profound effects on both the identity of the state in general and the salience of kinship identity in particular. This chapter traces the role of kinship identity in Oman over time. It begins with a discussion of traditional water access in rural areas of Oman and explains how people in these areas used proto-bureaucracies to allocate these resources. It then describes the shifts in kinship identity that occurred during state building as a result of new authorities and methods of resource allocation. Finally, it describes the post state building period and examines the salience of kinship in Omani social and political life.

87 The Al Said Dynasty

Figure 3: Al Busaid Rulers of Oman since 1744

The Al Said dynasty is a subset of the Al Busaid family and the Albusaidi tribe. Its rise to power, with the help of the British, was an important component of the success of

Oman’s state building project. A history of these interactions before Oman’s state building period beginning in the 1970s frames the context in which state building occurred and kinship authority interacted with the state’s bureaucratic authority in Oman.

The Al Busaid family rose to power in 1744 with the defeat of the Persian empire that

occupied Oman at the time, and the ascent of Ahmed bin Said Al Busaidi.86 Ahmed was

86 “The Al bu Said dynasty in Arabia and East Africa by R. Said-Ruete,” Records of Oman 1867-1960: Volume I, ed. R. Bailey, CMG (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge Archive Editions, 1992): 39.

88 the first of the dynasty of Al Busaid rulers that continues today. After his death in 1778,

his son Said bin Ahmed ruled from the northern town of Rustaq.87 His son Hamad, who came to power in 1783, moved the capital to Muscat. Hamad was followed in 1792 by his uncle Sultan who aligned with the British and allowed the British East India Compa- ny to establish a trading station. Said, his son, took power in 1806 following a struggle within the royal family. Said established a second capital in Zanzibar, where many members of the family still live, though not all are Omani citizens (most hold Tanzanian

citizenship). 88

The modern Al Said line of the royal family began with Said’s son Turki, who came to power in 1871 following a protracted struggle within the ruling family. The struggle re- sulted in the split of Zanzibar and Muscat as separate centers of Al Said control, and the payment of an annual “Zanzibar Subsidy” of 40,000 Mother Theresa Dollars from Majid bin Said in Zanzibar to Thuwaini bin Said in Muscat. When Majid stopped making pay-

ments, the British began making them instead.89 The British also gave the Al Said an

“Arms Traffic Subsidy” presumably in exchange for allowing the British to establish an arms warehouse. Both subsidies continued to be reissued year after year. Both subsidies gave the British considerable leverage over the royal family. As the British Consul at the

87 “Bin” in Arabic means “son of.” Said bin Ahmed refers to Said, the son of Ahmed. Said’s son was Hamad bin Said. Such constructs are useful for keeping track of relations between the various leaders of the dynasty.

88 Interview (72), al-Khuweir, Oman, March 31, 2014.

89 R. Bailey, “Finance, Customs, and Taxes,” in Records of Oman 1867-1960: Volume I, ed. R. Bailey, CMG (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge Archive Editions, 1992): 3.

89 time noted in a memo, “it seems that the real reason for the re-grant of the subsidies was

the impending financial collapse of the Sultan’s administration.”90 Additionally, the

British withheld subsidy money from rulers of whom they disapproved.

The power of the ruling family was based partially on its ability to garner tribal alle-

giance.91 Patronage was an important part of this process. Oman’s tribes have their origins in Yemen (the Qahtani confederation) and Saudi Arabia (the ‘Adnani confederation). Disputes between tribes were common given limited resources in the

Omani desert. In addition to being divided by origin, Oman’s tribes were organized into two large confederations - the Ghafiri and Hinawi. Early British histories of Oman attribute the split to the Qahtani/‘Adnani division, but it actually emerged in the eighteenth

century during the Persian presence in Oman.92 Generally speaking, the Hinawi tended to be Ibadhi Muslims while the Ghafiri had a plurality of orthodox Sunnis and

Wahabis. 93 However, these identities were fluid and it was not unheard of for a tribe to

90 R.E.L. Wingate, Esq., to The Honorable Lt.-Col. A.P. Trevor, Political Resident in the Persian Gulf, 29 May 1921 [R/15/6/188],” R. Bailey, CMG, Records of Oman 1867-1960: Volume 7 (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge Archive Editions, 1992): 14.

91 For more on the history of Oman’s tribes see: J.C. Wilkinson, The Imamate Tradition of Oman (Cam- bridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 2009).

92 J.E. Peterson, “Tribes and Politics in Eastern Arabia,” Middle East Journal 31 no. 3 (Summer 1977): 305.

93 “Notes on the Tribes of the Sultanate of Muscat and Oman, 1951 [R/15/6/245]” Records of Oman 1867-1960: Volume 1, ed. R. Bailey, CMG (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge Archive Editions, 1992): xcvii.

90 switch from one confederation to another based on political circumstances.94 That is to say, these identities were not particularly sticky ones. Peterson (1977) notes that, “if the inhabitants of the upper part of a valley or town were Ghafiri, then the populace of the lower part of the valley or town would generally be Hinawi. Tribes with traditional feuds

generally chose opposite sides.”95 The Ghafiri and Hinawi confederations were not themselves kinship identities. However, divisions between the confederations fell along tribal lines.

As the establishment of such confederations suggests, tribes were often at feud into the twentieth century in Oman. Periodically, they came to visit the Sultan seeking mediation.

In 1905, for example, the Siabiyin, Rahbiyin, and Nedabiyin asked the Sultan to arrange

a truce between them after being unable to reach an agreement among themselves.96 In other cases they tribes would seek more than good council - they sought gifts, mediation, or some other payoff. If the Sultan refused to pay, he risked these tribes invading the his capital. Sometimes, the Sultan could not convince the tribes to hold off, and they did in fact invade. Sultan Faisal bin Turki, for example, faced an 1893 rebellion by Hinawi

94 “Annual Report on the Administration of the Persian Gulf Political Residency and Muscat Political Agency for the Year 1880-81,” Persian Gulf Administration Reports, Volume II, ed. Penelope Tuson (Cam- bridge, UK: Cambridge Archive Editions,1989): 29.

95 J.E. Peterson, “Tribes and Politics in Eastern Arabia,” Middle East Journal 31 no. 3 (Summer 1977): 305. For a listing of Ghafiri and Hinawi tribes in Oman, see: J.G. Lorimer, Gazetteer of the Persian Gulf, Oman and Central Arabia, Volume 9 (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge Archive Editions, 1986): 1391-1411.

96 “Diary of the Persian Gulf Political Residency for the week ending 22nd October 1905,” Political Di- aries of the Arab World: Persian Gulf 1904-1965, Volume 1 (1904-1906), ed. Robert L. Jarman (Cam- bridge, UK: Cambridge Archive Editions, 1998): 192.

91 tribesmen.97 The sums of money in question in tribal negotiations were not large. In

1891, for example, a set of Ghafiri tribes raided an al-Harth tribal settlement in the eastern Sharkiah region. Tribes in the Sharkiah at the time were aligned with the Sultan, and so Sheikh Saleh of the al-Harth appealed to the Sultan for mediation. The compensation

for property looted in the raid was $1,800 dollars.98

Additionally, while the Sultan mediated disputes between tribes, he did not have strong control over the tribes or their territories. Tribes would respond to unsatisfactory policy from Muscat by blocking mountain roads and passages. This infrastructure was basic at best, but critical for trade and transportation between the coast and the interior. In 1913, tribes in the interior rebelled openly against the Sultan Faisal bin Turki and continued the rebellion against his successor and son, Taimur bin Faisal. The Sultan’s limited resources and the alliance of Ghafiri and Hinawi tribes allowed the tribes to continue the

rebellion. 99 Britain’s Deputy Political Resident in the Persian Gulf, A.P. Trevor, wrote

97 “Administration Report of the Persian Gulf Political Residency for the Year 1913,” Persian Gulf Admin- istration Reports, Volume VII, ed. Penelope Tuson (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge Archive Editions,1989): 103.

98 “Administration Report of the Persian Gulf Political Residency and Muscat Political Agency for 1891-92,” Persian Gulf Administration Reports, Volume IV, ed. Penelope Tuson (Cambridge, UK: Cam- bridge Archive Editions,1989): 17.

99 “Administration Report for the Persian Gulf Political Residency for the Year 1917” Persian Gulf Admin- istration Reports, Volume VII, ed. Penelope Tuson (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge Archive Editions,1989). 41.

92 wistfully in 1919, “Omani tribes may remain as a hinterland - no man can control

them.”100

The dispute was resolved seven years later with the Seeb Agreement of 1920. The agreement, named for the town of Seeb to the west of Muscat where it was signed, created two separate states: Muscat and Oman. Oman was put under the control of Imam

Mohammed bin Abdulla al Khalili. The Imam was supported by the Harthi Sheikh Isa bin Salih who led the Hinawi confederation at the time, and Sheikh Sulaiman bin Ham- yar who led the Ghafiris. Muscat remained under the control of the Sultan, Taimur bin

Faisal Al Said.101 Five years later (in 1925), Taimur signed an agreement with D’Arly

Exploration Company Ltd. to search for oil. The contract stipulated that the Sultan would receive half-yearly royalties on any oil produced in commercial quantities. While the expedition was unsuccessful, it lay the groundwork for future expeditions that even-

tually led to success.102

100 “Administration Report of the Persian Gulf Political Residency for the Year 1919,” Persian Gulf Ad- ministration Reports, Volume VII, ed. Penelope Tuson (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge Archive Editions, 1989): 57.

101 “Administration Report for the Muscat Agency for the Year 1921,” Persian Gulf Administration Re- ports, Volume VIII, ed. Penelope Tuson (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge Archive Editions,1989): 53-4; “Notes on the Tribes of the Sultanate of Muscat an Oman, 1951 [R/15/6/245],” Records of Oman 1867-1960: Vol- ume 1, ed. R. Bailey, CMG (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge Archive Editions, 1992): xciii.

102 “Agreement Between Saiyid Taimur bin Faisal, C.S.E., Sultan of Muscat and Oman and the D’arly Ex- plomation Company Limited, 1925 [R/15/6/24 1925],” Records of Oman 1867-1960: Volume 7, ed. R. Bai- ley, CMG (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge Archive Editions, 1992): 208.

93 Taimur bin Faisal abdicated in 1932, leaving Muscat in the hands of his son Said bin

Taimur. The British made a show of faith in Said bin Taimur. After considerable internal discussion, continued the Zanzibar subsidy to the Sultan with the intent of “keeping the

Sultan of Muscat sweet.”103 However, the British soon grew frustrated over difficulties surrounding oil exploration. A 1953 telegram complained, “we much doubt his ability to establish, with his own resources, his authority over all Muscat and Oman against the

wishes of the tribes.”104

In 1963 a rebellion broke out in Oman’s southern province of Dhofar. The Dhofar rebellion was a Marxist uprising with its origins in South Yemen. It was led by the Popular

Front for the Liberation of the Occupied Arabian Gulf (PFLOAG) under the leadership of Mohammed bin Nafl. This rebellion in the South and tribal violence in the North put the Said bin Taimur under considerable pressure, although he enjoyed the support of

Britain and Iran in fighting PFLOAG.

During this conflict, on July 23, 1970, Said’s son Qaboos conducted a bloodless coup.

Qaboos bin Said, who was born in the provincial Dhofari capital Salalah and had been studying there, moved to Muscat and declared the unification of Muscat and Oman into

103 “Letter to His Highness Saiyid Said bin Taimur Sultan of Muscat and Oman, 9th August 1932 [R/ 15/6/188 1932],” Records of Oman 1867-1960: Volume 7, ed. R. Bailey, CMG (Cambridge, UK: Cam- bridge Archive Editions, 1992).:33; “Note of a Meeting at the India Office on 12th February, 1946 [R/ 15/6/387 1946]” Records of Oman 1867-1960: Volume 7, ed. R. Bailey, CMG (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge Archive Editions, 1992): 87.

104 “Telegram No. 123 of October 23, 1953,” Records of Oman 1867-1960: Volume 8, ed. R. Bailey, CMG (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge Archive Editions, 1992): 423.

94 a single Sultanate. With the help of the British, he was able to quell the Dhofar Rebellion by 1976 and also crushed the Imamate which had ruled from Nizwa. Qaboos then had the task of unifying and building the Omani state. Part and parcel of this state building project would be the tribal groups whose political authority on numerous occasions had openly challenged that of the state.

Oman Before State Building - The Aflaj System

Prior to Sultan Qaboos’ state building process in Oman, kinship authority was the domi- nant means by which resources were allocated. Kinship identity was politically salient in that tribes and tribal alliances (shaff) were the primary means of political organization.

Over time, kinship became less politically salient as proto-bureaucracies became subsumed within the bureaucratic apparatus of the state. Patterns of access to resources before state building were an important driver of this process. In particular, water as a vital limited resource played an important role in the process of Omani state building.

Oman’s fresh water supply comes the mountains. However, the date and lemon groves of the Sultanate’s villages are nestled in the valleys, where the land was flat, and where the mountains offered protection to the village inhabitants. In some cases, a well (zay- gra) could meet some of the water needs to these villages and towns. However, tapping into other sources proved vital. Annual rainfall in Oman amounts to twenty millimeters

95 in the desert but three hundred millimeters in the mountains.105 In order to bring water to the village, its affluent tribal leaders sponsored the construction of irrigation tunnels called aflaj. Unlike dirt irrigation ditches in Kuwait, the aflaj ran underground and were constructed from stones or clay (sarooj). Aflaj is an Arabic word which means “divisions,” referring to the various channels (qanat) which brought water to the farms of the

village.106 The oldest aflaj are estimated to be 2,500 years old, and five of them are UN-

ESCO World Heritage Sites.107 As of 2003, 3,017 of Oman’s 4,112 aflaj were still

active. 108 As Rabi and others point out, this access to water was of “critical

significance.”109

There were three kinds of aflaj in Oman. The ghaili aflaj ran above ground from wadis to open channels. Da’udi aflaj ran underground and connected a well to farms. ‘Aini

aflaj ran from natural springs to the farms.110 From these water sources, the falaj channel ran into the village to an uncovered section called al-shari’a where all inhabitants of the

105 Mandana E. Limbert, In The Time of Oil: Piety, Memory, and Social Life in an Omani Town (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 2010): 117-8.

106 The qanat system in Iran bears resemblances to the Omani system.

107 Sunil K. Vaidya, “Conserving Water,” Gulf News, November 11, 2006. Online: http://gulfnews.com/ news/gulf/oman/conserving-water-1.265209.

108 Abdullah al-Ghafri, Takashi Inoue and Tetuaki Nagasawa, “Irrigation Scheduling of Aflaj of Oman: Methods and Modernization,” in “Sustainable Management of Marginal Drylands: Applications of Indige- nous Knowledge for Coastal Drylands. ed. Z. Adeel. Proceedings of a Joint UNU-UNESCO-ICARDO In- ternational Workshop, Alexandria, Egypt, 21-25 September 2002, Tokyo, Japan, United Nations University: 2.

109 Rabi, 13.

110 Al-Ghafri et al., 3.

96 village could obtain clean drinking water and wash dishes and clothes. This section was located at the head of the system because it was where the water was cleanest and most

suitable for drinking.111 The channel would then run, covered, into the mosque where it was used for the ritual washing before prayer. The channel then ran through the resi- dences of members of the tribe whose sheikh had sponsored the falaj system. From there

it split into smaller channels that ran through the farms of the village’s inhabitants.112

The water the falaj brought to the village was a vital limited resource in Oman’s arid environment. Inhabitants of the village therefore needed to solve the collective action problem of which farms received how much water. The units by which water from the aflaj is distributed is called an athar. The athar is not a unit of volume, but rather a unit

of time, roughly 30-40 minutes.113 The athar gives its owner the right to divert the water flow from the main aflaj channel to his groves for a specified amount of time. A farmer

could purchase an athar or pay an annual fee for it.114 This time was measured in some villages using the positions of the sun and stars, and in others using a water clock in which a vessel would take one athar’s worth of time to fall to the bottom of a bowl of

111 The water was not always clean. For example, the cholera epidemic in Oman in the late 1800’s happened partially because dead bodies in the aflaj were contaminating the drinking water. See: Persian Gulf Administration Reports 1883/84 - 1904/05 [229r] (462/602), British Library: India Office Records and Pri- vate Papers, IOR/R/15/1/709, in Qatar Digital Library. Online: http://www.qdl.qa/en/archive/81055/vd- c_100023373227.0x00003f.

112 Interview (29b), February 19, 2015 [location undisclosed for subject’s well-being].

113 Interview (59), Nizwa, Oman, March 17, 2014. The volume of water in the aflaj changes over time based on rainfall for that season, so dividing shares by time was a more practical solution. However, there is a falaj in Lizuh that does use water volume as the basis for dividing shares.

114 Interview (29a), Washington, D.C., June 24, 2014.

97 water.115 The divisions of athars could be extremely precise. In the interior city of Bahla,

for example, a person could own a segment of time as small as a quarter of a minute.116

Aflaj were often funded by a local tribal sheikh. Thus, much of the distribution fell along

tribal lines. 117 In addition, the aflaj channel would often run just outside the houses of members of the sheikh’s tribe, giving them easier and more access to water than non-

tribe members. 118 Such behaviors seem consistent with patronage politics. However, the sheikh funded water distribution infrastructure for the entire village, not just for his tribe. He was motivated not by purely economic considerations but also by “responsibil-

ity according to tradition” to provide access to water for the village’s inhabitants.119 This is one example of kinship performance before state building in Oman.

Water access involved solving collective action problems not only within tribes but across them Cities like Ibra in Oman’s interior had two separate kinship communities, each belonging to different lineages. Since these different kinship groups needed to coordinate for each member to obtain water, cities and villages required structures that op-

115 See: Harriet Nash and Dionisius A. Agius, “Use of the Stars in Agriculture in Oman,” Journal of Semitic Studies 56 no. 1 (2011): 167-182; al-Ghafiri, Takashi, and Nagasawa, 6.

116 Mandana Limbert, In The Time Of Oil: Piety, Memory, and Social Life in an Omani Town (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 2010): 124.

117 John C. Wilkinson, The Imamate Tradition of Oman (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1987): 26.

118 Interview (29b), February, 19, 2015.

119 Interview (29b), February 19, 2015.

98 erated along different lines than kinship. Grandmaison (1977) concurs that “lineal independence is counterbalanced by the community obligations stemming from the irrigation

system…only the management of water counteracts this isolation.”120 In other words, the aflaj system exemplifies an administrative solution to a collective action problem.

This administration superseded kinship authority, and was not only sufficient but also necessary. Wilkinson (1987) points out that while many functions of aflaj management can be managed via structures of authoritative kinship, “tribalism can prove highly de-

structive once these conventions break down.”121

Administration of the aflaj required the creation of a small bureaucracy. The person in charge of a falaj is called the wakil (literally, an “agent” or “representative,”) and he oversees water distribution, rent, budgeting, and conflict management between farmers.

The sheikh retained political oversight over the aflaj but the wakil was usually the most powerful actor overseeing the falaj system. In fact, a wakil could even force a sheikh to

pay his duty on the aflaj.122 Smaller aflaj have only a wakil, but larger systems have additional administrators. In such systems, the wakil has a deputy called an arif who is in

charge of timing irrigation and sometimes auctions the athar.123 In addition, the wakil

120 Colette Le Cour Grandmaison, “Spatial Organization, Tribal Groupings, and Kinship in Ibra,” Journal of Oman Studies 3, no. 2 (1977): 105.

121 Wilkinson, 38.

122 Interview (59), Nizwa, Oman, March 17, 2014.

123 In Bahla, the ‘arif is paid for each auction by the Ministry of Religious Endowments, and making a profit was traditionally prohibited. See: Limbert, 124-5.

99 oversees a qabidh who acts as a treasurer for the aflaj, controlling its income and updat-

ing the falaj transaction book.124

Often, disputes over aflaj systems were handled locally. The wakil of one falaj would

speak to the wakil of another falaj.125 In these discussions, the wakil was more than a technical supervisor. He was also a sort of politician who represented the interests of his constituents. His authority was vested in his role as head of the aflaj rather than his personal gravitas. In other words, he was a bureaucratic representative for that aflaj system.

While a wakil and his falaj system were independent of the national government, some situations required mediation by higher-level parties. Walis, or provincial governors, would mediate these disputes arising between different falaj systems. For example, a wali might be asked to mediate in a case where one village used a water source but an-

other village’s falaj system influenced that source.126

Historically, Both Oman’s Imam and Sultan used walis, who were from the local tribe,

or even the tribal sheikh.127 The Imam used the wali to collect zakat - a religious term

124 Al-Ghafri, Inoue, and Nagasawa, 2-3. See also: J.C. Wilkinson, Water and Tribal Settlement in South- east Arabia: A Study of the Aflaj of Oman (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1977): 113, 120.

125 Interview (40), al-Khuweir, Oman, March 19, 2014.

126 Interview (59), Nizwa, Oman, March 17, 2014.

127 This was not always the case. See: R. Bailey, CMG, Records of Oman 1867-1960: Volume 1 (Cam- bridge, UK: Cambridge Archive Editions, 1992): xcvi; “Administration Report for the Maskat Agency for the year 1921,” Persian Gulf Administration Reports, Volume VIII, ed. Penelope Tuson (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge Archive Editions,1989): 53.

100 meaning “alms” but really referring to a mandatory tribute or tax levied on tribes under the Imam’s influence. The wali also mediated tribal disputes, which in the late 1800s

were often violent.128 Following a tribal rebellion in 1893, the Sultan also instructed

some of his walls to attack rebel tribe fortifications.129 In the 1950’s, the Sultan appointed members of his family to serve the roles, as they had done under Ahmed bin Said in

1739.130 However, these members were unreliable and ineffective according to British

assessments at the time.131

While the jurisdiction of the wali and wakil are over a specific territory, the aflaj system was also relevant for administering tribal populations. Omani bedu had tribal regions

(diyar) but also made use of the aflaj system alongside their urban hadhar counterparts.

These populations were not only nomadic as the term bedu tends to connote. Many were

in fact seasonally migratory.132 In the winter, they lived by the coast and were involved in fishing. When the summer months made the coastal area too hot and humid, these bedu would migrate inland. They rented land and falaj water for two to four months in

128 See, for example: “Part II - Administration Report of the Muscat Political Agency and Consulate for the Year 1892-3,” Persian Gulf Administration Reports, Volume IV, ed. Penelope Tuson (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge Archive Editions,1989): 20.

129 “Part II - Administration Report of the Maskat Political Agency for the year 1899-1900,” Persian Gulf Administration Reports, Volume V, ed. Penelope Tuson (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge Archive Editions, 1989): 17.

130 Interview (12a), Medinat Sultan Qaboos, Oman, March 18, 2014.

131 “Administration Report for the Maskat Agency for the year 1917,” Persian Gulf Administration Re- ports, Volume VII, ed. Penelope Tuson (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge Archive Editions,1989): 42.

132 Some Omanis also identity a category of tribal pastoralists, or shiwawi. Interview (12a), Medinat Sultan Qaboos, Oman, March 18, 2014.

101 the interior’s town and villages. These transactions could be mediated by the wakil, but could also be a private transaction with members of the town or village. While the bedu also made use of wells and springs, the aflaj were connected to urban centers in which

these populations traded goats, sheep, and camels for dates, lemons, or vegetables.133

Oman’s aflaj system made sedentary irrigation possible in an arid climate, which in turn allowed the creation of urban centers. These centers of capital were also centers of power. Oman’s national governments could then administer these centers using a system of walis who reported back to the central government. They could also leverage the aflaj to coerce local populations. In November 1900, for example, Saiyid Said-bin-Ibrahim Qais

blocked the irrigation canals at Awahi to wrest payment from the local population.134

State Building in Oman

Following the 1970 coup and the rise of Sultan Qaboos to power, Oman began a massive state building project to bring the villages and towns of the country under the auspices of the national government. Authority in these settlements had historically been decentralized and issues of resource allocation were usually handled locally. Now, the government sought to expand its power into rural areas. Along with shifts in the agents of authority came shifts in the type of governance authority as well. Oman became more bu-

133 Interview (59), Nizwa, Oman, March 17, 2014.

134 “Part II - Administration Report of the Maskat Political Agency for the Year 1900-1901,” Persian Gulf Administration Reports, Volume V, ed. Penelope Tuson (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge Archive Editions, 1989), 15.

102 reaucratic and its governance became more centralized. Simultaneously, kinship identity became less salient.

Part and parcel of the state building process was enhancing the authority of the central government in a society where tribal and kinship-based authority structures had an important historic presence. Sultan Qaboos needed to strike a careful balance between modern bureaucratic governance and traditional kinship identities and the authorities

which flowed from them.135 However, since pre-existing bureaucratic structures existed, this balance was made easier. The state could expand modern administration over areas without compromising these traditional forms of governance.

Central to Omani state building was the creation of physical infrastructure to distribute resources and project state power. From 1970 to 1972, the import of cement to Oman increased from 125,000 Omani Rials (OMR) to 576,000 Omani Rials. The importing of

machinery and part jumped from 232,000 OMR to 1,799,000 OMR.136 State building also involved the building of schools and promoting of adult literacy, both important nationalization strategies. Telephone lines first built between Muscat and Mutrah in 1908

were now extended into rural areas.137

135 Marc Valeri, Oman: Politics and Society in the Qaboos State (New York: Columbia University Press, 2009): 72.‘Assabiyat is the plural of ‘assabiya, which refers to the traditional tribal means of authority.

136 Limbert, 117.

137 “Political Diary of the Persian Gulf Residency for the Week Ending 13th (Received 21st) September 1908),” Political Diaries of the Arab World: Persian Gulf 1904-1965, Volume 3 (1908-1909), ed. Robert L. Jarman (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge Archive Editions, 1998): 274.

103 Sultan Qaboos also began the process of incorporating local institutions into the state’s new bureaucratic apparatus. The Ministry of Interior created “official” neighborhoods and assigned each a sheikh to mediate local disputes. In describing this system, Limbert

(2010) explains that “the Qaboos era bureaucracy has simply subsumed sheikhly fami-

lies…into its administrative hierarchy and organization.138 Kinship still played a role in which individuals could be appointed sheikhs, but formal recognition by the state shifted the institution of sheikhs towards a more bureaucratic form of authority and away from a personalistic one. The nature of power distribution in Oman made this shift in kinship identity possible.

The state’s nationalization project also included the provision of social services. Be-

tween 1970 and 1976, Oman built 200 schools, educating 65,000 pupils.139 These schools allowed the government to create contact with the upcoming generation of

Omanis and to spread a national unifying narrative. The government also improved the provision of vital resources. In the early 1970’s, Oman’s government sponsored a set of surveys and research projects to inventory Oman’s water assets and determine where more needed to be built. The resulting five-year plan called for “large scale irrigation

138 Limbert, 39-40.

139 Valeri, 84. For more on mass education’s role in nationalism, See: Keith Darden, Resisting Occupation in Eurasia: Mass Schooling and the Creation of Durable National Loyalties (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, forthcoming).

104 projects” that required modern equipment. 140 The government moved quickly to lay water pipes and install other infrastructure for water provision. This infrastructure building expanded out to rural areas, but began in urban areas.

Water Resources in Muscat

Muscat is now Oman’s capital city but was historically a small secluded port. Because of the sharp rocks jutting out from the water, Muscat provided excellent for defense against

a maritime attack.141 Two forts overlooking the water built by the Portuguese in the

1500's - Fort Mirani and Fort Jalili - helped considerably in this regard. However, due to the danger of running a ship into these rocks, most maritime trade occurred (and occurs today) in the adjacent town of Mutrah. Nonetheless, Muscat was known particularly as a place where ships could pick up drinking water before exiting the Gulf of Oman en route

to India or Yemen. 142 The town’s water originated in one of approximately twenty

springs in the area or in wells.143 Much of it came into Muscat via canals, channels, and pipelines. The water was used for irrigation of twelve or so farms in the area, but was

also used in gardens and in the buildings and forts in Muscat.144 In the early 20th centu-

140 Limbert, 118-9.

141 A watch tower at Ruwi, at which roads from the interior converged before leading into Mutrah and Muscat, helped defend against attacks from the interior. See: “'Gazetteer of Arabia Vol. II' [1600] (679/688),” British Library: India Office Records and Private Papers, IOR/L/MIL/17/16/2/2, in Qatar Digi- tal Library. Online: http://www.qdl.qa/en/archive/81055/vdc_100023727635.0x00004e.

142 John Peterson, Historical Muscat: An Illustrated Guide and Gazetteer (Leiden, The Netherlands: Koninklijke Brill NV, 2007): 2, 98.

143 Peterson, 114.

144 Peterson, 31, 100.

105 ry, Sultan Said bin Taymur owned some of the date trees in the nearby village of Ruwi watered from nearby wells, the fruits of which were often sold in the market at

Mutrah. 145 Water was also stored in reservoirs and transported via pipeline to a distribution point near Matrah souk where it was put into buckets or goatskin bags and sold to locals. While prices fluctuated, a record from 1871 notes that during a drought the price

rose to 10 fils, indicating that the price was usually much less.146 Such a system existed

until 1955. 147

At the same time, kinship structures also existed in Muscat. Kinship groups settled together across certain areas in and around Muscat, and merchant families (Balushi, Ajam,

Lawati) lived in specific (and gated) areas of the city. The Lawati, for example, were based in neighborhoods of Muscat and Mutrah but later branched out to Sur and Lawa-

tia.148 However, it does not appear that kinship was the basis of resource access with regards to water. Other items, such as marriage and divorce, religious occurrences, and speakers in the community, were (and are) managed in Muscat’s Shi’a families by committees comprised of family members. As with the tribes and families of the interior,

145 “'Gazetteer of Arabia Vol. II' [1600] (679/688),” British Library: India Office Records and Private Pa- pers, IOR/L/MIL/17/16/2/2, in Qatar Digital Library. Online: http://www.qdl.qa/en/archive/81055/vd- c_100023727635.0x00004e.

146 'History of the imâms and seyyids of 'Omân by Salîl-ibn-Razîk, from A.D. 661-1856; translated from the original Arabic, and edited with notes, appendices, and an introduction, continuing the history down to 1870, by George Percy Badger, F.R.G.S., late chaplain in the Presidency of Bombay.' [212] (373/612), British Library: Printed Collections, Arab.D.490, in Qatar Digital Library. Online: http://www.qdl.qa/en/ archive/81055/vdc_100023697836.0x0000ae.

147 Peterson, 56.

148 Interview (51), Ramal Boshar, Oman, March 28, 2014.

106 each family had a sheikh who was appointed by the government and reported to the wali. While originally the sheikhs had direct relationships with the Sultan himself, the

wali system put some distance between the sheikh and Oman’s leadership.149

Water Provision in the Interior

The provision of water via trucks (and later via pipes) was an important shift in resource access from local proto-bureaucracies to the fully bureaucratic state. Through the expansion of infrastructure, Water for bathing and washing (particularly at mosques) came to be provided by the state rather than the aflaj system. As a result, the aflaj system became less important as a tool of resource access than it had been before state building. The aflaj remained relevant for irrigation, and in some cases drinking water. However, it took a less central role than prior to state development. After 1970, Oman's government be-

gan providing free water via trucks that were stored in water tanks.150 Consistent with other shifts from localized to nationalized access, Omanis living in towns and villages

often considered this drinking water “better” than local sources.151

As authority in Oman become more bureaucratic, the importance of geography was heightened. Before state building, certain tribes were known to inhabit a certain area of the country. However, the importance of geography relative to tribe became more impor-

149 Interview (51), Ramal Boshar, Oman, March 28, 2014.

150 Interview (29b), February, 19, 2015.

151 Limbert, 127.

107 tant as local branches of national ministries were established. These ministries distributed resources and administered the provision of government services to local populations. Official neighborhoods were created, and the Ministry of Interior assigned sheikhs to each. Neighborhoods became sources of affiliation and identity, and some-

times were associated with particular tribes.152 The government also constructed new housing with indoor plumbing and moved people into them. These houses were usually

in the same general vicinity as the original houses.153

In addition, the government systematized naming conventions in Oman. Individuals took three names: their given name, father’s name, and family/tribal name. Affiliation with one of Oman’s 216 recognized tribes was certified by a wali or a local sheikh, and was

(and remains) the basis for obtaining a land permit or passport.154 To obtain this certification, however, required approaching the leader in the particular city, town, or village of one’s origin.

The cumulative effect of these changes was that the political salience of kinship identity in Oman became weaker. As Valeri explains, “the tribal hierarchy was, definitely, not

152 Limbert, 39-40; Valeri, 156-7.

153 Saleh al Shaibany, “Oman’s Historic Homes Under Threat,” The National, January 11, 2010. Online: http://www.thenational.ae/news/world/middle-east/omans-historic-homes-under-threat.

154 Interview (88), al-Khuweir, Oman, December 9, 2013.

108 destroyed but rather subsumed within the state apparatus.”155 National-level bureaucracies administered geographic areas in which different tribes and families were known to live. Yet the personal connections within these tribes shifted towards a social rather than political salience. As one Omani expert put it: “We are very close to each other as a society. But new formations of urban planning made kinship take a different format. It’s

based on the tribe.”156 Another Omani interviewee explained, “The main social contract of the country is between tribes and the royal family…It’s not between individual citi-

zens and the government…The tribes hold a very official, central, role in Oman.”157

Taken in historical context, these comments reveal the lowered salience kinship authority during and after the state building period in Oman. Kinship authority did not disap- pear entirely, but was overtaken or subsumed by bureaucratic authority. Oman’s government created new systems of infrastructure and identity that filled gaps not covered by traditional means of administration. Where the jurisdiction of bureaucracy and kinship authorities overlapped, the state appealed to a new national identity. However, since certain manifestations of kinship authority lent themselves to bureaucratic governance, the bureaucratization process was relatively successful. As a result, kinship salience after state building was low.

155 Valeri, 156-7. See also: Sulaiman al-Farsi, Democracy and Youth in the Middle East: Islam, Tribalism and the Rentier State in Oman (New York: I.B. Tauris & Co Ltd, 2013): 60.

156 Interview (93), al-Khuweir, Oman, March 24, 2014.

157 Interview (88), al-Khuweir, Oman, December 9, 2013.

109 Post State Building In Oman

After the basic contours of the Omani state took shape, elements of kinship authority were subsumed by bureaucratic authority. While there is variation in exactly how weak the political salience of kinship has been over time, its overall salience is weak as defined in this dissertation’s theory chapter. Cooperative resource access in Oman - specifically, the proto-bureaucracies formed to manage the aflaj - determined this overall salience. Other factors determine variation within this “weak” classification. This section offers evidence supporting the former claim about overall salience, including examples from contemporary Oman. It bears mention that in any state, it would be naive to assume that any aspect of politics remains perfectly static for this lengthy period of time.

I treat of the 1980s to 2010s as a “post state building” period with full awareness that the political salience of kinship varies within it. The intention of this analytical move is to show that the effects of cooperative resource access on kinship set the outer boundaries of variation.

Ruling Family

Following state building in Oman, members of the al-Said family were and continue to be represented at high levels of government, including Oman’s cabinet. Other prominent families are represented in the cabinet as well. Since the Sultan has been in power since

1970, the mechanisms of power transition are not well-established. However, the royal

110 family chooses the successor from among their family ranks.158 The true nexus of power, however, is the Sultan himself. The Sultan maintains a careful balance in his inner circle between different families, but also among different religious sects and the business community.

The performative observable outcome of political kinship's high salience in a state would be an exclusive royal family that receives special access to resources. This outcome is generally not represented in the Omani case. Unlike royal families in other Gulf states, members of the Al Busaid family do not receive special payouts from the government. “Royalness” tends to be concentrated among the small al-Said branch of the family itself. An Omani activist notes: “Oman…has the least percentage of royal family members in leadership positions. I monitored Kuwait elections three times and three

time I’m just amazed at how many royal family members there are.”159 In addition, marriage outside the Al Busaid is not uncommon, and members are known to marry among a number of different families of varying status. These families include the Abri, Bar-

wani, Harthi, Mahrooqi, and Ziqwani families.160 If kinship identity were politically salient, this is the opposite of the performance we would expect since kinship groups

158 Bruce Reidel, “After Qaboos, Who Will be Oman’s Next Sultan?” al-Monitor, January 25, 2015: http://www.al-monitor.com/pulse/originals/2015/01/oman-abdullah-qaboos-succession-power- yemen.html.

159 Interview (88), al-Khuweir, Oman, December 9, 2013.

160 Interview (72), al-Khuweir, Oman, March 31, 2014.

111 tend to limit the access of outside members. The limited exclusivity of the Al Busaid is one example of the weak political salience of kinship.

Some of Oman’s tribes look down upon this extensive marriage outside the Al Busaid family, and the al-Said’s framing themselves as “above” the rest of the tribes. Important- ly, this disdain does not undermine the political power of the family, which we might expect if kinship were politically salient. As a former Omani government advisor ex-

plains with regards to the Al-Said, “ruling is political but marriage is a social issue.”161

Assessing the extent of kinship based wasta among the Al Busaid - a person’s personal gravitas within a network of people - is difficult in Oman. The subject is a sensitive one, but it is slowly entering public discussion. One young member of the Al Busaid family noted “some family wasta exists but I haven’t seen it. I’ve only heard about it.” This performative outcome - limited discussion - is not definitive. However, it suggests that family wasta is not as normalized and widely accepted as states with high kinship

salience. 162

161 Interview (12b), Qurum, Oman, April 1, 2014.

162 The same interviewee was comfortable saying bribery existed in Oman among former officials, as well as for “big projects” currently underway. We can thus infer from these comments that the interviewee’s comments about kinship-based wasta are not tampered by reticence to discuss bribery or corruption overall.

112 National Government

The aflaj continued to be a source of drinking water into the 1980’s, and still represent a main source of irrigation water. The government has deliberately maintained these aflaj systems, and their proto-bureaucratic administration remains in place. As an official working on aflaj affairs explained, “The Aflaj are historic, traditional, and efficient.

People don’t like to change.”163 Sultan Qaboos also reportedly takes a personal interest in the aflaj system and its preservation. Management of the aflaj themselves become more bureaucratic during Omani state building as well. In the modern Sultanate of

Oman, the aflaj are administered by the General Water Resources Management for Aflaj

Affairs in the Ministry of Regional Municipalities and Water Resources. The role of the government is mostly technical and relates to upgrading and fixing aflaj. This function is highly bureaucratic. First, a wakil must request maintenance from the government via letter or an official form. Government engineers go to the falaj to assess its state and will report back to the government. This assessment is then entered into a government data- base and assigned an urgency of first, second, or third priority. Given budget constraints, first priority items constitute the bulk of maintenance work, with some second priority issues being given attention. Often this work includes replacing sarooj (mud) with cement to make the falaj more durable. More recently, the government has been trying to assist local systems to manage the excess water of the falaj. At Falaj Daris, for example,

163 Interview (40), al-Khuweir, Oman, March 19, 2014.

113 the government worked on building storage tanks for the excess water that previously

had drained into a wadi (dry riverbed).164

Oman’s government recognizes that “It is a mix of people and government that keep the

aflaj running.”165 While Oman’s government makes a great effort to establish a presence in each town and city, it respects the integrity of the local aflaj bureaucracy. These local bureaucracies arose based on the need to mediate between kinship groups. Because of such bureaucracies, the vital aflaj system can be managed by bureaucratic structures.

These structures are characterized by a low presence of kinship authority and remain in place within the framework of the contemporary bureaucratic Omani state.

Despite their continued function however, the aflaj have become less important as a form of resource access. Oman’s government not only provides fresh water but also creates it through a set of desalination plants administered at the national level. The Oman

Power and Water Procurement Company (OPWP), owned by Oman’s Ministry of Fi-

nance, was founded in 2005 to help contract these plants.166 Desalinated water originally flowed to homes in Muscat following the 1970 coup. By 1973, most houses in Muscat

164 Interview (59), Nizwa, Oman, March 17, 2014. The Ministry has also tried to specify that UNESCO sites should be fixed with traditional mud and stone rather than cement to preserve their historic composi- tion.

165 Interview (40), al-Khuweir, Oman, March 19, 2014.

166 OPWP is owned by the Electricity Holding Company of the Oman Oil Company, owned in turn by Oman’s Ministry of Finance. The Ministry of finance itself as a .01% stake in OPWP. See: “Introduction to OPWP” OmanPRP.com. Online: http://www.omanpwp.com/About.aspx#1opwp.

114 were connected to the city’s water distribution network.167 Desalination plants, beginning with al-Ghubrah in 1976, increased the amount of available fresh water for Muscat and other rapidly expanding urban centers. Since that time, Oman has continued con- tracting and building these plants.

Ministries in Oman are bureaucratic but in some cases feature informal patronage that flows along tribal lines. Ministers sometimes feel obligated to employ their relatives or give grants to certain tribes. Oman’s cabinet also reflects members of most major families in Oman, though not all of these families are “tribal.” However, the performance of kinship identity in Oman differs starkly from Kuwait. Tribal purity, for example, is less important. “There isn’t really a derogatory word for people with mixed lineage,” claims

one Omani expert. 168 This contrast in how kinship is conceptualized highlights differences between the performative nature of kinship’s political salience in Oman and states where the salience of kinship is high. The fact that Omanis place less emphasis on “purity” speaks to the lesser exclusivity and importance of kinship as a means of access.

In addition to this difference, several interviewees note that kinship ties are helpful but

not themselves sufficient for obtaining this access or resources.169 As an Omani political

167 Limbert, 119.

168 Interview (12), Qurum, Oman, April 1, 2014.

169 Interview (12), Qurum, Oman, April 1, 2014.

115 expert noted change over time, stating, “now it’s moved. In the past [kinship] was about

survival.”170

Regional Government

Walis in Oman serve as mediators between this authority structure and local traditional authority structures. They predate the Omani state building process, but continue to play a role as power-holders whose authority comes from the ruler rather than kinship. As

Valeri (2009) argues, “the central authorities have sought to de-autonomise the traditional solidarity groups, rendering them fully dependent on a political game that the regime

controls.”171 In contemporary Oman, walis are appointed by Oman’s Ministry of Interior and represent the state’s interests at the provincial level. Each wali in Oman serves a two to five-year term, and usually governs in an area other than where he is originally from.

Walis are not appointed on the basis of kinship. However, in the past, walis from the royal family were appointed to start them on a political path - subject to promotion if

they were successful.172 Walis have advisers on the local tribal politics of their province, and they are accountable to the Ministry of Interior. Within their province, walis mediate disputes that cannot be resolved by local sheikhs. These sheikhs will mediate between aggrieved parties in the province but some parties will approach the wali should this

170 Interview (12a), Medinat Sultan Qaboos, Oman, March 18, 2014.

171 Valeri: 72. Valeri does note, however, some areas in which Oman’s history of kinship lineage has shaped the modern state. These include the decision in 1981 to give all Omanis tribal last names, and establishment of a department of Tribal Affairs which oversees local tribal politics.

172 Interview (12a), Medinat Sultan Qaboos, Oman, March 18, 2014.

116 mediation prove unsuccessful.173 Traditionally, the role of the wali, in addition to enforc- ing law and order, was to be a point of contact between Oman’s government and its

tribes. 174 If the residents in a province were unhappy with the wali they could request

that the Ministry of the Interior remove him from power.175 Sheikhs could (and did) also appeal directly to the Sultan himself. They would make periodic visits and leave placat- ed with gifts.

Local sheikhs too participate in the modern bureaucratic governance of Oman. Valeri

(2009) explains that a local sheikh rashid is a man of noble lineage appointed by the Di-

rectorate of Tribal Affairs in the Ministry of Interior to administrate in a certain area.176

Traditionally, sheikhs in Oman certify the kinship lineage of those they administer. In marriage for example, the sheikh can council families on the lineage and family ties of a prospective bride or groom. This function, however, also serves a bureaucratic purpose in Oman. To obtain an Omani passport, one must obtain this certification from her local sheikh. Even a birth certificate from the state is insufficient to obtain the Omani pass-

port. 177 Thus, the authority of the sheikh, while historically kinship-based, has become

173 Interview (29), Washington D.C., U.S.A., June 24, 2014. In addition to wilayat, Oman established municipal councils for eleven provinces in Oman in 2011. See: Sultan’s Decree No. 116/2011, Promulgates Municipal Councils Law (2011): https://www.mmc.gov.om/Pages.aspx?PAID=3&MID=13&PGID=8.

174 Interview (88), al-Khuweir, Oman, December 29, 2014.

175 Interview (12a), Medinat Sultan Qaboos, Oman, March 18, 2014.

176 Valeri, 156-7.

177 “Directorate General of Passport and Residence,” Royal Oman Police, Sultanate of Oman. Online: http://www.rop.gov.om/english/dg_pr.asp; Interview, (29), Washington, D.C., U.S.A., June 24, 2014.

117 part of the bureaucratic administration of the modern Omani state. The granddaughter of a former sheikh from a Shi’a family in Muscat noted these changes. Her grandfather had personal ties to Sayid bin Taymur, but “now, there are a few steps between the sheikh

and His Highness [Sultan Qaboos].”178

Local public meeting spaces are administered by bureaucratic authorities. The majlis, a building in each town, is owned by the municipality (though they predate the creation of municipalities) and can be used for family occasions, town-hall style meetings, or political campaigning for the Majlis al-Shura. Neighborhood and family gatherings, including

mourning periods, also take place at the sabla, a meeting hall often next to a mosque.179

Tribal primaries in Oman are illegal but the law is often difficult to enforce. Communi- ties in Mutrah hold primaries, and they occur elsewhere. However, the latter are “not very forceful upon the tribe members to vote exactly within them - they are not considered as strong commitment as in Kuwait. [If you don’t vote with the tribe, there repercussions are] mainly social…but no economic repercussions…just an unpleasant at-

mosphere ”180 A former government official opined that northern tribal groups try to find the most qualified person within the tribe rather than the one with the most kinship au-

178 Interview (51), Ramal Boshar, Oman, March 28, 2014.

179 Interview (88), al-Khuweir, Oman, December 29, 2014; Limbert, 41.

180 Interview (88), al-Khuweir, Oman, December 9, 2013.

118 thority. 181 In other cases, tribe does not affect voter choice. A local elected official in

Muscat, for example, described running against several tribal candidates, but still win- ning the most votes in the electoral district.

Personal Politics

Officially, kinship and family name play little to no role in government opportunities in

Oman. Applications to Sultan Qaboos University (SQU) and bureaucratic government

positions appear to be evaluated based on qualifications rather than kinship ties.182 The government also issues housing permits without regards to kinship. One interviewee explained, “In the new modern cities…when the Ministry of Housing divides plots, they

don’t care that you’re Balushi, Mukheini, [or] Saidi.” 183 Informally, however, kinship ties can make a difference. While kinship may have weak political salience as this dissertation understands the term, it would be an overstatement to claim kinship authority is irrelevant in Oman. As one doctoral candidate at SQU put it: kinship isn’t necessary, but

it can help. 184 Another Omani stated, “You can only be employed by these [the Ministry of Civil Service and the Ministry of Manpower]. But it still plays a role - your family

and tribal ties.”185 For this example in particular, it bears mention that the key factor ap-

181 Interview (12), Medinat Sultan Qaboos, March 18, 2014.

182 Interview (27), al-Khuweir, Oman, March 19, 2014.

183 Interview (93), al-Khuweir, Oman, March 21, 2014.

184 Interview (46), Sultan Qaboos University, Oman, March 24, 2014.

185 Interview (88), al-Khuweir, Oman, December 9, 2013.

119 pears to be tribal affiliation versus personal ties between members of the same kinship group per se. As another Omani put it, “a last name is not enough. You also need influ-

ence.” 186 For example, while there are several families known for their business success

(Bahwan, Barwani, Zawani, Zubair), not all members of the family are involved in busi-

ness nor are they all wealthy.187

Family is important to Omanis, but in a more social than political way. For some fami-

lies, gatherings are often ad hoc except for holidays and major life cycle events.188 For others, including some Shi’a families, they are an occurrence each weekend called a

ramza, at which the extended family gathers and eats together.189 Marriage in Oman is traditionally a family affair. University students and young professionals in Muscat (but often from the interior) provided insights on the intricacies of modern Omani dating. In the more traditional south, marriage within the tribe is common, and they are often arranged. Some tribes will collect money for a dowry so that a member of the tribe can

marry his bride.190 Dowry amount is regulated by the social status of the family. A dowry

186 Interview (12), Qurum, Oman, April 1, 2014.

187 Interview (79), German University of Technology, March 26, 2014.

188 Interview (4), German University of Technology, Oman, March 28, 2014.

189 Interview (27), al-Khuweir, Oman, March 19, 2013; Interview (51), Ramal Boshar, Oman, March 28, 2014; Interview (87), German University of Technology, March 26, 2014.

190 Interview (45), Sultan Qaboos University, Oman, March 24, 2014.

120 paid to a high status family can exceed $90,000 (35,000 OMR).191 Many young Omanis come to Muscat for university and settle there afterwards because of the economic opportunities. Educated women have apartments and cars, hang out in coffee shops or movie theaters, and most importantly, work alongside their male counterparts in

offices.192 Family affiliation still matters in marriages in and around Muscat, but usually because it signifies a potential spouse’s status and reputation rather than political access

per se. 193 An Omani political activist stated that marrying someone from a similar tribe

“makes your life a lot easier because…from a social perspective you will guarantee that

you are socially comparable.”194 This is a different kind of outcome, however, from the political utility that would characterize the strong political salience of kinship identity.

Conclusion

Cooperative access to resources in Oman’s non-urban areas solved collective action problems through the creation of proto-bureaucracies prior to state building. The Omani government’s state-building options were not pre-determined but were constrained by the cooperative access these proto-bureaucracies provided. Reaching out to individual kinship groups would have been possible, but would have proven costly, inefficient, and

191 Khalid M. Al-Azri, Social and Gender Inequality in Oman: The Power of Religious and Political Tradition (New York: Routledge, 2013): 78.

192 In the interior, it is preferred that women work with other women. Interview (51), Ramal Boshar, Oman, March 28, 2014.

193 Interview (46), Sultan Qaboos University, Oman, March 24, 2014; Interview (51), Ramal Boshar, Oman, March 28, 2014.

194 Interview (88), al-Khuweir, Oman, December 9, 2013.

121 not necessarily effective. Instead, the government subsumed proto-bureaucracies within the state’s administrative apparatus. Populations generally remained in the same areas as before state building, but their access to resources was improved by bureaucratic administration that subsumed kinship politics. The impact of this state building was the transition of kinship identity from political to social salience following this state-building period. Kinship in the post state-building period retains weak political salience in Oman as a result.

The history of Oman’s governance sheds light on how cooperative access to resources can create bureaucratic authority that gives kinship identity weak political salience.

However, this outcome is not a foregone conclusion. A comparison with Kuwait reveals that a different allocation of vital resources leads to different outcomes of kinship’s political salience.

122 Chapter 7: Competitive Access to Resources - Kuwait

Figure 4: Major Locations of Water Sources in Kuwait, 1933

In contrast to Oman, access to water resources in Kuwait was competitive. Kinship- based control of resources set the basic framework for state building, and ultimately the strong political salience of kinship identity. This chapter begins by highlighting the kinship networks that existed in late-1800’s Kuwait. It then traces their development through the state building period beginning in the 1950’s. It shows that because the

Kuwaiti government reached out to kinship groups, the political salience of kinship remains strong after state-building.

123 Kuwait: An Introduction

Figure 5: Rulers of Kuwait Since 1896

Kuwait is a parliamentary monarchy at the northern end of the Gulf nestled between Iraq to the north and Saudi Arabia to the east and south. It is roughly the size of the U.S. state of New Jersey. Kuwait gained independence in 1961 after sixty-two years as a British protectorate. The word Kuwait comes from kut, or fort, a nod to the history of conflict in the northern Nejd Desert in which Kuwait is situated. Kuwait’s head of state is the Emir, who hails from the royal al-Sabah family. The al-Sabah comprise roughly 1,200 Kuwait-

is out of a total and growing population of 2.7 million in 2014.195 The Emir is chosen by consensus within the royal family, but Kuwaitis elect a fifty-seat parliament, the Majlis al-Umma. The Majlis proposes its own legislation and has the power to interrogate members of the cabinet. However, the Emir can dissolve the parliament and call for new elections.

195 “Kuwait,” CIA World Factbook (accessed October 6, 2014). Online: https://www.cia.gov/library/publications/the-world-factbook/geos/ku.html.

124 Like Oman, Kuwait governs through bureaucratic administration. This governance is regulated by the country’s 1961 constitution, a document widely respected in the country. In Kuwait, the Emir appoints a Prime Minister who must be approved by the parliament. The Prime Minister oversees a Council of Ministers, at least one of whom must be an elected member of the Majlis al-Umma. These individuals oversee Kuwait’s ministries.

Kinship authority, however, is rooted deeply in Kuwait’s history. As the contemporary state developed, Kuwait’s leaders were incentivized to reach out to tribes and families to secure power. Scholars have documented how major changes, most prominently the development of oil resources in 1951, shifted the social meaning and importance of

kinship. 196 Yet institutions of authority based on kinship themselves remain a salient part of Kuwaiti politics. The story of this political salience is a story of access to vital limited resources.

Kuwait Before State Building

Kuwait’s contemporary history begins with the Awazim tribe. While historically a low status tribe, the Awazim were a major presence in early Kuwait. Some estimates place

196 Crystal, 12.

125 the tribe at 25% of the total population in Kuwait before state development.197 Contrary to some academic descriptions, the Awazim were not pastoral nomads. They are better described as seasonal migrants. By 1908, 250 Awazim families lived in Kuwait City in a quarter bearing their name. They also inhabited the town of Jahra, to the west of

Kuwait, and were the original inhabitants of Dimna, an oasis and fishing village to the

West which today is the Salmiya area of Kuwait City. Such oases were dispersed throughout Kuwait and the northern Nejd desert. During the summer months, many

Awazim worked as farmers, fishermen, pearl divers, or ship captains (nakhodhas).

Members of the tribe often, though not always, worked alongside each other on these ships. In the winter, they moved west into the desert, and raised camels, sheep, and

goats. 198

The Awazim presence in Kuwait predates the arrival of the al-Sabah family in Kuwait

sometime before 1750.199 Their arrival was an important turning point in Kuwait’s history. Moreover, understanding the regional context of Kuwait’s kinship politics is a useful contextualization of the case.

197 Interview (100), Salmiya, Kuwait, February 4, 2014.

198 “Awazim (Extract from Gazetteer of the Persian Gulf, Oman and Central Arabia, 1908,” in Gazetteer of Arabian Tribes: Volume Three, ed. R. Trench (Cambridge, UK: Archive Editions Ltd, 1996): 59; Inter- view (100), Salmiya, Kuwait, January 28, 2014.

199 Kuwait City itself was founded in 1716 by families from the ‘Aniza tribal confederation from which the al-Sabah originate. See: Farah al-Nakib, “Revisiting Hadhar and Badu in Kuwait: Citizenship, Housing, and the Construction of a Dichotomy” International Journal of Middle Eastern Studies 46 (2014): 5.

126 Regional Politics of the Arab Gulf, Early 20th Century

To understand why Kuwait’s leadership reached out to tribes, it is necessary to understand the regional political context in which it governed. Before the 1750s, Kuwait was under the rule of the Bani Khalid tribe. However, their power declined over time due to antagonism with the Ottomans, major tribal leaders, and eventually the death of the

Bani Khalid sheikh, Sulaiman bin-Muhammad al-Hamid, in 1752. He was replaced by

Sheikh Sabah bin Jabir al-Sabah.200 Under his rule, the Awazim helped build a protec- tive wall (the Soor) around Kuwait City and repelled attacks in the desert areas sur-

rounding it.201

These attacks often came from parties aligned with the al-Rashid family. At that time, the al-Rashid, a branch of the large Shammar confederation, controlled an large swath of modern-day Saudi Arabia called the Emirate of Ha'il. The emirate enjoyed the support of the Ottoman government, while the al-Sabah were supported by Britain.

Alongside the al-Sabah, the British supported the al-Saud, the contemporary rulers of

Saudi Arabia. The House of Saud was (and remains) a major player in Gulf politics, even more so than the al-Sabah or al-Rashid. The al-Saud dynasty was consolidated in

1720 when Saud ibn Mohammad ibn Miqrin deposed his nephew Musa.202 In 1744,

200 Crystal, 16, 20, 21; Selwa al-Ghanim, The Reign of Mubarak al-Sabah: Shaikh of Kuwait 1896-1915 (New York: I.B. Tauris & Co Ltd, 1998): 5.

201 Interview 100. After Kuwaiti independence in 1961, the Awazim became prominent in Kuwait’s military as well.

202 James Wynbrandt, A Brief History of Saudi Arabia (New York, NY: Infobase Publishing, 2010): 107.

127 Saud’s son Mohammed allied with Muhammed ibn abd al-Wahhab, founder of the

Wahhabi religious movement. His son and Abd al-Wahhab’s daughter were married as a

show of faith in this alliance.203 The combination of Saudi military power and Wahhabi ideology proved formidable at first. However, the alliance suffered a series of setbacks - first from the Sultan of Egypt Mohammed Ali in 1818 and then by the al-Rashid who

captured Riyadh in 1901. In 1902, the city was recaptured by Ibn Saud.204 At that time, the leader of family was Ibn Saud (Abd al-Aziz al-Saud), who was was born sometime between 1876 and 1880. He formed a force called the Ikhwan in 1912 who were based in communities called hijar. By 1916, there were 20 such hijar with a population of

60,000 men. 205

The al-Saud and al-Sabah both originate from the ‘Aniza tribe. They are connected through Lulua al-Thaqib, the influential mother of Mubarak al-Sabah, who came from

the same family (though a different branch) as Saud.206 When they were driven out of

Riyadh, the al-Saud took refuge in Kuwait under the auspices of the al-Sabah. They also took on joint campaigns, including one against the Mutair tribe and its leader Faisal

203 “Muhammed bin Saud [1744-1765],” GlobalSecurity.org (Online): http://www.globalsecurity.org/military/world/gulf/muhammad-bin-saud.htm.

204 John R. Bradley, Saudi Arabia Exposed: Inside a Kingdom in Crisis (New York, NY: Palgrave Macmil- lan, 2005): 7-8.

205 Wynbrandt: 170-171.

206 Alan Rush, Al-Sabah: History and Genealogy of Kuwait’s Ruling Family, 1752-1987 (London, UK: Ithaca Press, 1987): 236.

128 Duweesh in 1903. 207 Most importantly, the British had alliances with both the al-Sabah and the al-Saud. However, the families often competed for tribal influence and territory, leading to a delicate political game in which tribal influence was the prize. In 1916, for example, after Mubarak had helped Ibn Saud defeat the Ajman, Sheikh Jabber autho-

rized Shaikh Salim to grant some of the Ajman refuge in Kuwait.208

Tribes In Kuwait and the Northern Nejd

None of the three major families in Nejd contested the other alone. Rather, each set up alliances with major tribes in the region. The rationale for this system was twofold. First, and most obviously, tribes had fighting men who could take on rival tribes and their fighters. Second, each tribe controlled areas of land known as diyar (singular: dirah).

These tribes, collectively known today as the bedu in Kuwait, were situated predomi-

nantly outside Kuwait City, and included nomadic elements.209 Their tribal dirah could extend over hundreds of square miles, and its boundaries were often both dynamic and

disputed. 210 The families from the tribe lived together in clusters of large black tents, and

207 Seif Marzouq al-Shamlaan, Min Tarikh al-Kuwait (Kuwait: That al-Silasil Publications, 1986) (Arabic): 148.

208 Rush, 94. Ali Abdal Moneim Abdal Hamid contends that this animosity originated when Mubarak gave a firearm to Ibn Saud rather than his son Salim. The jealousy over this snub lasted years. See: Rush, 81-2.

209 al-Nakib points out, however, that historic residence in or outside of Kuwait City is a poor indicator of whether a family was tribal bedu or urban hadhar. See: al-Nakib, Farah, “Revisiting Hadhar and Badu in Kuwait: Citizenship, Housing, and the Construction of a Dichotomy” International Journal of Middle Eastern Studies 46 (2014): 5-30.

210 For example, in 1860, the sheikh of the ‘Aniza, Ibn Hithal, permitted the Thafir tribe to migrate from their diyar to the Aniza diyar. However, a conflict erupted soon thereafter when Ibn Hithal seized camels owned by Da’ibil bin Badi al-‘Areefi of the Thafir. See: ’Attiya bin Kareem al-Thafir, Qabilat al-Thafir: Dirasa Tarikhia L’Ghuiya Muqarina (Kuwait: Mutab’a Muassasa Dar Al-Siyasa, 1995): 142 (Arabic).

129 made use of the oases within the borders of the dirah.211 Access to water resources was a

function of tribal control over these oases.

Two quintessential examples of such tribes in the Nejd were the Mutair and Shammar.

The Mutair are a confederation led by the Daweesh family which itself is part of the Al

Dushan branch of the Mutair tribe.212 Leadership within the family was based on kin-

ship, passing from father to son, and starting with Faisal Daweesh, the patriarch of the

Mutair ruling family. Daweesh was the grandson of the Ajman Sheikh Sultan ibn Hith-

lain, and was known for his light complexion and good looks.213 The Mutair are histori-

cally nomadic, although they had a settled presence in villages throughout Nejd. They

were known in particular for raising camels.214 While the Mutair are considered (and

historically considered themselves) bedu, Hilaal al-Mutairi and his descendants were a

powerful Mutair merchant presence in Kuwait City during the early twentieth century.

211 The tent, called a beit sha’ar, was made of black goat hair and was partitioned with a large rug that split the tent into areas for family and guests, men and women, living quarters from kitchens. One member of the Juwarin tribe recalls his family’s beit sha’ar was split into areas for parents, children. It included a kitchen, and a small diwaniya tent just outside. See: “Review of the ‘Anizah Tribe,” Ed. Bruce Ingham (Lebanon: Kutub Limited, 2005): 27; Interview (89), Jahra, Kuwait, January 30, 2014; Mohammed Suleiman al-Haddad, “The Effect of Detribalization and Sedentarization on the Socio-Economic Structure of the Tribes of the Arabian Peninsula: Ajman Tribe as a Case Study,” (PhD diss., University of Kansas, 1981): 58.

212 Appendix I: Divisions of Mutair, ‘Ajman, ‘Awazim, Rashaida, Shammar and ‘Aniza Tribes (‘Extract from The Arab of the Desert, 1949): in Gazetteer of Arabian Tribes: Volume Ten, ed. R. Trench (Cam- bridge, UK: Archive Editions Ltd, 1996): 263; “Muteir (Two Extracts from Handbook of Arabia, 1916) in Gazetteer of Arabian Tribes: Volume Ten, ed. R. Trench (Cambridge, UK: Archive Editions Ltd, 1996): 18.

213 “Faisal ad Dawish of the Mutair, (Memorandum on Jibali Raid, by Special Service Officer, Diwaniya, 3 January 1928 [AIR 23/33])” in Gazetteer of Arabian Tribes: Volume Ten, ed. R. Trench (Cambridge, UK: Archive Editions Ltd, 1996): 136.

214 “Mutair (Extract from Handbook of Arabia, 1916)” in Gazetteer of Arabian Tribes: Volume Ten, ed. R. Trench (Cambridge, UK: Archive Editions Ltd, 1996): 17.

130 The Shammar are a tribe originating from Nejd. They are led by the al-Rashid family who ruled the area of Jabal Shammar starting in 1835 (‘Ali bin Rasheed bin Hamad Bin

Hadhar bin Khalil bin Jasir bin Ali).215 Like the Mutair, they formed from a coalition of

families including the Taghlib, ‘Abs, and Hawazin. 216 By 1881, the family resided in

Ha’il, in modern day Saudi Arabia. The Emir of the tribe resided in Ha’il and had a

bodyguard of between 800 to 1000 men.217

Both the Mutair and the Shammar exemplify the use of kinship authority during the pre- state period in Kuwait and the northern Nejd. This authority faced shifts, however, as state building began in Kuwait. At the same time, state building itself was constrained by this authority, rooted in competitive access to the desert's vital, limited resources.

Kinship And The State

The dirah was the critical link between kinship and resources in Kuwait and the Nejd desert. Control of a dirah meant access for the tribe’s members to its oases and water. In

215 Ibrahim Jarallah bin Dakhna al-Sharifi“The Golden Encyclopedia of Individuals of the Tribes and Fam- ilies of the Arabian Peninsula: Part Five,” (Ann Arbor, MI: University of Michigan Press: 1998): 1799 (Arabic).

216 “The Shammar (Two extracts from Handbook of Arabia, 1916),” in Gazetteer of Arabian Tribes: Vol- ume Thirteen, ed. R. Trench (Cambridge, UK: Archive Editions Ltd, 1996): 67.

217 “Chapter XI (Two extracts from: Lady Anne Blunt, A Pilgrimage to Nejd, 1881),” in Gazetteer of Ara- bian Tribes: Volume Thirteen, ed. R. Trench (Cambridge, UK: Archive Editions Ltd, 1996): 41.

131 the northern Nejd, each tribe was aware of the others’ territorial claims.218 One tribe

could make use of water sources in another tribe’s dirah, but only via prior arrangement

with that tribe. The competition over the desert’s limited resources incentivized frequent

raids between tribes. During these attacks, raiders would steal livestock and firearms.

Sometimes the raiders were sent by the ruling families themselves, and were captured or

killed during the raids.219 Raids occurred even when one tribe granted another permis-

sion to enter its dirah.220 For example, in 1860, the sheikh of the ‘Aniza, Ibn Hithal,

permitted the Thafir tribe to migrate from their dirah to the Aniza dirah. However, a

conflict erupted soon thereafter when Ibn Hithal seized Thafir camels after entering the

dirah.221

Diyar were also a link between territory and people, a critical element for ruling families

seeking control of given areas. A ruling family’s alliance with one of these tribes provid-

ed two key assets: fighters and territory. Fighting men were particularly critical for the

218 Ibn Saud’s advisor, Fuad Bey Hamza, once offered the British a list of 150 wells and the tribes affiliated with them. See: “'File 53/54 IV (D 119) Kuwait Blockade' [118r] (248/440),” British Library: India Office Records and Private Papers, IOR/R/15/1/517, in Qatar Digital Library

219 See, for example: “Administration Report of the Koweit Political Agency for the Year 1906-1907,” Per- sian Gulf Administration Reports, Volume VI (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge Archive Editions,1989): 74; “Diary of the Persian Gulf Political Residency for the Week Ending the 7th May 1905,” Political Diaries of the Arab World: Persian Gulf 1904-1965, Volume 1 (1904-1906), ed. Robert L. Jarman (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge Archive Editions, 1998): 83. “No. 6 of 1929: Summary of the News From The Arab States for the Month of June 1929,” Political Diaries of the Arab World: Persian Gulf 1904-1965, Volume 8, ed. Robert L. Jarman (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998): 411.

220 Rakaan bin Hathleen: Poet, Cavalier, and Sheikh of the Ajman (Kuwait: Rabian Publishing and Distrib- ution Company, 2003): 59 (Arabic).

221 ‘Attiya bin Kareem al-Thafir, Qabilat al-Thafir: Dirasa Tarikhia L’Ghuiya Muqarina (Kuwait: Mutab’a Muassasa Dar Al-Siyasa, 1995): 142 (Arabic).

132 al-Sabah, who faced periodic attacks on Kuwait City and the outlying town of Jahra

from the Ajman and other groups.222 Additionally, when fighters aligned with the al-

Sabah it gave the family greater control over the legitimate use of force - a key aspect of

state formation and nation building.223 Alliances also translated into political influence for the ruling family since it gave them influence over territory. This influence impacted relations not only with other players in the region, but with international players looking for regional influence. The more tribal alliances a ruling family had, the more bargaining power it had vis-a-vis British, Ottoman, Russian, German, and other foreign interests.

Thus, ruling families continued to use kinship identity as a legitimate form of authority and dealt with tribal leaders who ruled through kinship authority as well. In exchange for alliance with a royal family, a tribal group would gain the protection of that family.

This alliance also gave the tribe recourse in the event of a raid, since it could appeal to the ruling family to induce the raiders to return stolen livestock.

These kinship alliances were later standardized in bureaucratic proceedings. As the

British created protectorates in the Gulf region, the issue of territorial control took on newfound importance for ruling families. In 1922, the British convened the Uqair Con-

222 “Summary of News of his Britannic Majesty’s Political Residency in the Persian Gulf for the Month of April 1916,” Political Diaries of the Arab World: Persian Gulf, Volume 6 (1915-1921), ed. Robert L. Jar- man, (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge Archive Editions, 1998): 214; “Administration Report for the Kuwait Political Agency for the Year 1916,” Persian Gulf Administration Reports, Volume VII (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge Archive Editions,1989): 77. These conflicts are largely relegated to the past, and today the Aj- man in Kuwait enjoy a good relationship with the ruling family.

223 See: Max Weber, “Politics as a Vocation,” (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1972); Charles Tilly, Coercion, Capital, and European States: AD 990-1992 (Malden, MA: Blackwell Publishing, 1992); Eugen Weber, Peasants Into Frenchmen: The Modernization of Rural France, 1970-1914 (Stanford, CA: Stanford Uni- versity Press, 1976).

133 ference to delineate the borders of Saudi Arabia, Kuwait, and Iraq. During the confer-

ence, the parties used the tribal diyar as a basis for land claims.224 Such strategies allowed kinship authority to endure at a time when statehood was being introduced into the region. They perpetuated kinship authority within the formalized bureaucratic entities that would become protectorates, and eventually states.

Kinship Among Merchant Families

Kinship authority also existed among Kuwait City’s hadhar or “urban” population. In the early 1900’s, Kuwait City’s neighborhoods were often organized informally by family. These families had contact with each other, but their respective homes were clustered together. The families - including the al-Barrack, al-Duweij, al-Fadhala, al-Fahad, al-

Ghanim, al-Ghuneim, and al-Omar - engaged in shipping, pearl diving, and trade. They did business not only with each other, but also with tribes and traders who docked their ships in Kuwait. Migratory tribes, some of whom had members residing within the city walls, came to Kuwait City to sell wool and plants and purchase supplies from merchants in Kuwait. Traders would often dock their ships in Kuwait to stock up on supplies before heading south along the Gulf coast to either Africa or India. While these groups preferred (and still prefer) to call themselves “families” rather than “tribes,” kinship was an important part of merchant family life in early 20th century Kuwait City. Sailors on

Kuwaiti pearl diving vessels were often related by kinship, although members of differ-

224 See: Dickson, H.R.P., Kuwait and Her Neighbours (London: George Allen & Unwin, 1956): 273.

134 ent families and tries could also work on the same vessel.225 In a time before cars,

Kuwaitis often took considerable steps to preserve family ties. One Kuwaiti woman who grew up in 1920’s Kuwait recalls: “When I was little I visited my grandfather’s house…

it could be four hours walking from our house…four hours we went to visit.226

Kuwait City itself was a largely cosmopolitan center of shipping and trade in the late

1800’s and early 1900’s. Merchant families from the Nejd, Iran, and Iraq worked and associated with each other. They included both Sunni and Shi'a, as well as non-Muslims.

Despite sect differences, relations between Sunni and Shi’a families were good. In the early 1900’s, for example, Sunni and Shi’a both lived in the Sharq area of Kuwait City.

Mohammed Redha Behbehani, a Shi’a, worked alongside Sunni teachers at the

Mubarakia School, the first school in Kuwait, which opened in 1911.227 One resident of

Kuwait City at that time claims that Sunni and Shi’a mothers would even nurse each

others’ babies. 228

The Shi’a families, a minority in mostly Sunni Kuwait, had close family ties as well.

The Shi’a presence in Kuwait stretches back to at least 1708, when merchants came

225 Interview (100), Salmiya, Kuwait, February 4, 2014.

226 Interview (16), Nuzha, Kuwait, February 15, 2014.

227 Interview (44), Kuwait City, Kuwait, March 6, 2014.

228 Interview (16), Nuzha, Kuwait, February 15, 2014.

135 from Iran to the relatively safer port of Kuwait.229 The Behbehani family, formed from a group of families originating in Behbehan, Iran, became prominent in Kuwaiti business.

They originally occupied a dwelling called al-Sadu (weaving loom) house, built in the

Qibla neighborhood of Kuwait city in 1929. Murad Mohammed Behbehani purchased the house - the first in Kuwait built with concrete - for the hefty sum of 100,000

rupees. 230 The family enjoyed great economic success once Murad Behbehani became the chairman of Kuwait’s Ahli Bank and his son Ya’acoub began a successful watch-sell- ing business in 1938. The business eventually became the main provider for West End

watches in the Gulf. 231 Leadership of the business remains in the family with Aqeel Be- hbehani assuming control of the business upon his father’s death in 2004.

As with their Sunni counterparts, marriage between and within the major Shi’a families was (and remains) common. Such marriages maintain the close historic relations between them and preserve their exclusivity as a set of groups. This relationship pays so-

229 According to one interviewee, disputes with another family in Iran may also have contributed to the migration.

230 Interview (44) Kuwait City, Kuwait, March 6, 2014; M. Alroumi, “AlSadu House / Beit al-Sadu,” Ar- house-alsadu/com.archofkuwait.www//:http. The family-بيت-السدو :chOfKuwait.com, April 24, 2012 later moved to Watiya and then Sha’ab, which one family member describes today as “Behbehani central.”

231 Interview (44), Kuwait City, Kuwait, March 6, 2014.

136 cial and political dividends. A Shi’a Kuwaiti from the Qabazard family recounts with

regards to marrying other Shi’a:232

Interviewee: It makes you strong. In this society. Honestly, it makes you strong. Because you feel you have a family…Maybe you will go in one diwaniya, you will find out ten names, different names, but they are connected to each other with marriage. ‘Don’t touch him, he’s my cousin.’233

These intra-Shi’a parings, as with Sunni marriages in Kuwait, are mediated by class. A

member of a prominent Shi’a family described pairings between higher and lower class

families as uncommon:

SW: Are there certain [Shi’a’a family] pairings that tend to be more common than others?

Interviewee: I’ve never heard of [Behbehani] taking from Dashti. They’re also Shi’a but I haven’t seen anyone take from them…Usually [Behbehani] take from Marafie, you take from the other Behbehani, you take from Khathemi, maybe from Zinzilla.

[…]

SW: What kind of girl would you want [your son, a Behbehani] to marry?

Interviewee: Usually, if you’re gonna marry from the labor class, that is a big no-no.234

These Shi’a families had (and have) good relations with Kuwait’s ruling family. On hol-

idays, Mubarak al-Sabah would visit the Behbehani family. Murad Behbehani was ap-

pointed Special Provider for His Highness the Emir.235 After the Kuwait Cinema Com-

232 The Qabazard, whose name means “Yellow robe” in Persian, are a prominent Shi’a presence in Kuwait. The family originated from two brothers from Iran who began work in Kuwait as pearl divers, ship captains (nakhodas), and ship owners. Mohammed Qabazard, one of the family patriarchs, was appointed head of the port of Kuwait by the British and was a member of Kuwait’s first parliament in 1961. The family became prominent in sea and land trade (including rice and dates) after 1950, including import-export business with Iran. See: Rivka Azoulay, “The Politics of Shi’a Merchants in Kuwait,” in Business Politics in the Middle East, ed. Steffan Hertog, Giacomo Luciani, and Marc Valeri (London: C. Hurst & Co. Ltd., 2013): 76; Interview (41), Shuweikh, March 6, 2014.

233 Interview (41), Shuweikh, Kuwait, March 6, 2014.

234 Interview (58), al-Khuweir, Kuwait, March 6, 2014. Marrying a non-Kuwaiti historically has led to being ostracized from the family with very limited contact.

235 In Arabic, Mujahiz al-Khas Samu al-Emir.

137 pany expressed concern that his importing television equipment would reduce sales, the

Emir bought the equipment from Behbehani and founded Kuwait’s official television

station.236 The Marafie also had and maintain good relations with Kuwait's leadership.

The family is also Shi’a and originates from the Behbehani family. The name "Marafie"

is a contraction of Mohammed Rafie, the apical ancestor of the family.237 The family settled in Kuwait in 1708 after establishing a shipping trade presence throughout the

Gulf. The Marafie Diwan, one of the first such buildings in Kuwait, was connected via

bridge to the diwan of Sheikh Mubarak.238

Access to Water in Kuwait City

Like the tribes living in and around Kuwait City, the merchant families also had means of accessing water. Kuwait City had few native water resources. Most of the city’s water came from two lines of wells outside the city. One was to the southeast in what is today the Dasma neighborhood, and the other was to the southwest near what is today the

Shamiya neighborhood.239 Like Oman, Kuwait also had palm groves. These groves, situated at oases and settlements along the coast, did not require the same level of fresh-

236 Interview (44), Shuweikh, Kuwait, March 6, 2014.

237 “The Dawaween of the Marafie Family,” Diwan Marafie, 2009: http://www.diwanmarafie.com/En/Di- wn_marafie_3.htm.

238 Diwan Marafie.

239 “'Arabia Intelligence Report' [21r] (41/52)” British Library: India Office Records and Private Papers, IOR/L/MIL/17/16/5, in Watar Digital Library. Online: http://www.qdl.qa/en/archive/81055/vd- c_100023545441.0x000028; “Military Report on the Arabian Shores of the Persian Gulf, Kuwait, Bahrein, Hasa, Qatar, Trucial Oman and Oman' [25] (39/226),” British Library: India Office Records and Private Papers, IOR/L/MIL/17/15/141, in Qatar Digital Library. Online: http://www.qdl.qa/en/archive/81055/vd- c_100023509623.0x000029.

138 ness as drinking water. They were irrigated via ditches that drew from underground wa-

ter sources.240 The plantations varied in size from a few hundred to a few thousand date trees. Both nomadic and seasonally migratory groups - or their leaders - owned these

groves, and the al-Sabah also owned a number of date groves in the region.241

A sharp rise in Kuwait’s population preceded state building in Kuwait. The resulting demand for cooperative access to water as a vital limited resource put pressure on the leadership to develop bureaucratic management of these resources. This development illustrates that Kuwait’s strong kinship salience after state building was not a foregone conclusion. The centralization and bureaucratization of water access was the first of many such programs to manage resources in Kuwait. However, non-urban access to water before state building was competitive in Kuwait versus cooperative in Oman.

Kuwait’s post state-building environment reflects strong kinship salience even despite this bureaucratization process because of the this competitive access.

While each house in Kuwait City had a well, the water was often brackish and unsuit-

able for drinking. 242 By 1908, population growth in the town made existing water re-

240 Date palms can grow with water as salty as 2,000 parts per million (ppm). Fresh drinking water has a salinity below 1,000 ppm. See: “Kuwait,” FAO Corporate Document Repository. Online: http://www.- fao.org/docrep/W4356E/w4356e0g.htm. Accessed January 8, 2015; M. Mumtaz Khan and S.A. Prathapar, “Water Management in Date Palm Groves,” in Dates: Production, Processing, Food, and Medicinal Values, ed. A. Manickavasagan, M. Mohammed Essa, and E. Sukumar. (New York: CRC Press, 2012): 52.

241 John Gordon Lorimer, Gazetteer of the Persian Gulf,’Oman, and Central Arabia (Volume II) (Caltutta, Superintendent Government Printing, 1908): 23, 90, 511.

242 Interview via Skype (16b), October 14, 2014.

139 sources insufficient, especially in periods of low rainfall.243 To address this shortfall,

Kuwait began obtaining water via boat from the Shatt-el-Arab at the southern Iraqi port of Fao about 60 miles away. Water came via a boat called “Duba” and it was stored in a

small reservoir near Shuweikh beach.244 It was cooled in leather bags and distributed once or per day by donkey, wagon, or water truck (called a tenek from the English word

“tank”) by private entrepreneurs, many of whom were Persian. Each time the water man would come to the house, he would put a chalk mark outside the entrance to the house.

When the house’s tally reached ten marks, he would ask the family for payment. A bag of water was fairly cheap - about half a rupee.

As Kuwait’s population expanded, these water resources quickly became insufficient.

Between 1909 and 1912 several bazaars opened and a set of new pearling ships began operating from Kuwait City. The demand for housing was so great that the wages of those involved in house construction doubled. Water also became more expensive, and

old brackish wells that had fallen out of use were re-opened out of sheer demand.245

243 “'File 53/83 I (D 99) Kuwait-Iraq Smuggling' [150r] (316/716),” British Library: India Office Records and Private Papers, IOR/R/15/1/531, in Qatar Digital Library. Online: http://www.qdl.qa/en/archive/81055/ vdc_100023510123.0x000075.

244 “Administration Report of the Persian Gulf Political Residency for the Year 1912,” Persian Gulf Ad- ministration Reports, Volume VII (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge Archive Editions, 1989): 117; “An Historic Glimpse,” Ministry of Electricity and Water, State of Kuwait, 2014 (Accessed August 12, 2014). Online: http://www.mew.gov.kw/?com=content&id=73# (Arabic).

245 “File 53/47 (D 43) Kuwait Water Supply [5-6] (24/486),” British Library: India Office Records and Private Papers, IOR/R/15/1/511, in Qatar Digital Library. Online: http://www.qdl.qa/en/archive/81055/ vdc_100023527869.0x000019

140 As Kuwait City’s population continued to grow, responsibility for providing access to water resources fell more and more heavily on the leadership. Local collective action was no longer sufficient for this access and Mubarak came under considerable pressure to respond to the shortage. On November 9, 1912, he sent an unusually deferential letter to Percy Cox, the Political Resident in the Persian Gulf, requesting help to address the

lack of drinking water in Kuwait City.246 In his analysis accompanying the letter,

Kuwait’s Political Agent William Shakespear noted: “The Shaikh is convinced that he must make some adequate arrangement for a proper water-supply at once, he does not

care at what cost as the necessity is so great.”247

It was these pressures that led - one year later - to Kuwait’s first attempt at water desalination. In 1913, Sheikh Mubarak contracted Kuwait’s first desalinization plant with the assistance of the British government, and built under the auspices of Strick Scott and

Co., LLC. The plant was designed to produce 100,000 gallons of fresh water every 24

hours.248 However, by 1919 the plant was still not producing sufficient water, and that which it did produce was salty and discolored. The new Emir, Sheikh Salim, demanded a refund for the faulty plant, and in March 1931 he and Strick Scott agreed to a refund of

246 “'File 53/47 (D 43) Kuwait Water Supply' [7] (25/486)” British Library: India Office Records and Private Papers, IOR/R/15/1/511, in Qatar Digital Library. Online: http://www.qdl.qa/en/archive/81055/ vdc_100023527869.0x00001a.

247 “'File 53/47 (D 43) Kuwait Water Supply' [7] (25/486),” British Library: India Office Records and Private Papers, IOR/R/15/1/511, in Qatar Digital Library. Online: http://www.qdl.qa/en/archive/81055/ vdc_100023527869.0x00001a.

248 “File 53/47 (D 43) Kuwait Water Supply’ [60r] (142/486),” British Library: India Office Records and Private Papers, IOR/R/15/1/511, in Qatar Digital Library. Online: http://www.qdl.qa/en/archive/81055/ vdc_100023527869.0x00008f.

141 250,000 Rs.249 Kuwait did not build a new desalinization plant until 1951. By this time, water access had become enmeshed with the Kuwaiti state building project.

By 1933, water shipment to Kuwait from Iraq had expanded from the earlier part of the

20th century. Forty boats were in use to bring about 35,000 gallons of water per day that

came from the Shatt al-Arab at the rate of six boats per day.250 These water resources expanded in 1939 with the establishment of a company to manage the shipments of

8,500 gallons of water per day to Kuwait City. This shipping of water from the Shatt to

Kuwait continued into the 1950’s.251 According to the British Political Resident, “Arte- sian wells could probably be sunk…which may render the population completely independent of the Shatt-el-Arab water, but this would cost money and throw out of em-

ployment the men employed in the water-carrying trade.”252

249 “‘File 53/47 (D 43) Kuwait Water Supply' [217r] (462/486); [221r] (470/486),” British Library: India Office Records and Private Papers, IOR/R/15/1/511, in Qatar Digital Library. Online: http://www.qdl.qa/ en/archive/81055/vdc_100023527871.0x00003f.

250 “'Military Report on the Arabian Shores of the Persian Gulf, Kuwait, Bahrein, Hasa, Qatar, Trucial Oman and Oman' [95] (109/226)” British Library: India Office Records and Private Papers, IOR/L/MIL/ 17/15/141, in Qatar Digital Library. Online: http://www.qdl.qa/en/archive/81055/vd- c_100023509623.0x00006f.

251Ministry of Electricity and Water, State of Kuwait; Interview via Skype (16b), October 14, 2014.

252 “'File 53/83 I (D 99) Kuwait-Iraq Smuggling' [151r] (318/716),” British Library: India Office Records and Private Papers, IOR/R/15/1/531, in Qatar Digital Library. Online: http://www.qdl.qa/en/archive/81055/ vdc_100023510123.0x000077.

142 Merchant Family Power In Kuwait

The families of Kuwait City were its source of economic strength.253 Kuwait’s economy was supported by shipping, trading, and pearl-diving, in contrast to the agricultural livelihoods of many populations in Oman. Water resources limited the choices of income available to Kuwaiti families. Well water was usually brackish and shipments of water

were sufficient for household use but not agriculture.254 Many Kuwaiti families did not engage in agricultural pursuits that would have required them to remain in one place.

Rather, their businesses were based on trade over land and sea and were characterized by mobile assets. The ruling family generated income from merchant family business by imposing tariffs on marine activities. However, this dependence on merchant families and their employees created a vulnerability for the ruling family. Kinship authority allowed these groups to solve collective action problems and work as collectivities to pressure the ruling family. The following example proved pivotal to both merchant-ruler relations and to the endurance of authoritative kinship.

In 1907, Kuwait’s Emir, Mubarak al-Sabah, raised taxes on the ship captains (nakhodas)

to 15 rupees per diver and 10 rupees per “puller up irrespective of catch.”255 Mubarak

253 Crystal emphasizes the economic power of the merchant families, treating them as a “class.” I contend that the reason these families had money in the first place was because of their high family status. While treating these families as a class may explain economic outcomes, it lends little causal leverage to explaining why kinship structures have a high presence in Kuwait.

254 Although the date groves outside of Kuwait City would have required water.

255 “Political Diary of the Persian Gulf Residency for the week ending 26th May (received 3rd June) 1907 - Koweit, 9th to 15th May,” Political Diaries of the Arab World: Persian Gulf 1904-1965, Volume 2 (1907), (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge Archive Editions, 1990):193.

143 also introduced an import tax, a house tax, a pilgrimage tax, and price controls. The purpose of these taxes was to fund military excursions in the desert tribal areas to the

west. 256 In protest of these taxes, three major shipping merchants left Kuwait with their employees and pearling ships and resettled in Bahrain. These merchants were: Hilaal al-

Mutairi, Shamlaan bin Ali, and Ibrahim al-Madaf.

In response to this devastating blow to Kuwait’s economy, Mubarak sent his son, Sheikh

Salim, to Bahrain to entice the merchants back. After a meeting hosted by Bahrain’s

Sheikh Eisi bin ‘Ali al-Khalifa, Salim convinced al-Madaf and bin Ali to return. Howev- er, Hilaal al-Mutairi remained adamant. Mubarak was forced to go to Bahrain himself under the guise of a visit to Sheikh Eisa al-Khalifa. Only then did Hilaal al-Mutairi and

his men return to Kuwait.257

This incident demonstrated that Kuwait’s merchants did not rely on being present in a given territory. Their mobile resources allowed these merchants to leave the authority of one ruler and easily enter the territory of another. Since pearling activity occurred throughout the Gulf, nothing tied the merchants to one particular city other than the ex- pense of constant moving. While Kuwait’s sheltered location on a bay made it ideal as a trade post, other cities along the Gulf were important trading cities as well. Thus, mer-

256 Crystal, 24.

257 Seif Marzouq al-Shamlaan, Min Tarikh al-Kuwait (Kuwait: Thaat al-Silasil Publications, 1986); 155. (Arabic).

144 chants’ abilities to leave and come back to Kuwait gave them considerable leverage over the ruling family.

Building on previous successes, the merchant families formed a municipality in 1930 which addressed education and social affairs. It was a bureaucratic body with a technical staff that included directors, a clerk, tax collectors, market clears, guards, and auditors.

This body was independent of the ruling family and was elected by 250 prominent

members of the merchant families.258 Kinship did not necessarily determine who was elected to the council, but access to the electorate was determined by membership in a kinship group and authority within that group. Furthermore, kinship insulated the council from the scorn of the ruling family. The Emir’s cousin, Abdullah Salim, was president of the council. This was no coincidence. Mubarak’s son Salim was the emir of

Kuwait from 1917 until his death in 1921. Following his passing, the royal family had passed over Abdullah Salim in favor of his first cousin Ahmed Jaber to be the new Emir.

The choice created dissent from the Salim branch of the family. Abdullah Salem’s presidency in the council gave it political insulation despite challenging the power of the

Emir. However, it was also a tool by which Abdullah Salem could pressure his cousin

after being snubbed by the ruling family.259

258 Crystal, 46-7.

259 Abdullah Salim eventually became the emir after Ahmed died in 1950. He ruled from 1950 until 1965. In 1961, Kuwait gained independence and Abdullah Salim became the first Emir of the State of Kuwait.

145 It was in this municipality, Crystal argues, that merchant family opposition to the ruling

family coalesced. 260 Between March and August of 1938, merchant families began to agitate in Kuwait City, leading Sheikh Ahmed al-Jaber to allow the formation of a majlis

(council). While it was short lived, this 20-member council had considerable powers in

state affairs as compared to others in the Gulf.261

State Building In Kuwait

Whereas state building in Oman had the effect of lowering the political salience of kinship identity, in Kuwait this was not the case. Despite major changes to where, how, and with whom Kuwaitis were living, the political salience of kinship identity remained strong throughout the state building process.

Oil and its Effects on Kuwaiti State Building

Kuwait lies on top of one tenth of the world’s oil reserves, yet this valuable resource lay untapped until 1951. When the state began gaining revenue from its export of oil, the resulting influx of capital revolutionized living in Kuwait. The city which had once been comprised of stone and mud-brick houses suddenly transformed into a a metropolis with highways and office buildings. Kuwait City’s population skyrocketed from 160,000 in

1952 to 250,000 in 1953.262 Some analyses of the discovery of oil in the Gulf describe it

260 Crystal, 47.

261 “Administration Report of the Kuwait Political Agency For the Year 1938 - IV. Local Interests,” Per- sian Gulf Administration Reports - Volume IX (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge Archive Editions, 1989): 27.

262 Dickson, 40.

146 as the point at which states gained clear dominance over other political entities.263 Yet as

Crystal points out, “rulers were able to manipulate newly reinforced family ties to penetrate and control the new oil-induced bureaucracy’s top positions…Political kinship, normally considered a traditional vestige, was in fact a response to the oil-induced bu-

reaucratic state.”264 Resource access before state building shaped this response.

Oil’s effects on kinship went far beyond the ruling family. As an immediate effect, oil allowed nuclear family members more contact with each other. Prior to oil, many men worked on shipping vessels, either as pearl divers, sailors, or captains (nakhodas). These men were often away from their families for six or seven months at a time. The discovery of oil created opportunities to make a living in Kuwait itself as the government offered jobs to nakhodas. Fathers and uncles would go to work and come back once per week rather than twice per year. Money also meant funding for education. Women as well as men took advantage of these new opportunities and many achieved college de- grees from Kuwait University, which opened in October 1966, or from institutions in

Britain and United States.265

263 See, for example: Gregory F. Gause III, Oil Monarchies: Domestic and Security Challenges in the Arab Gulf States (New York, NY: Council on Foreign Relations Press, 1994): 23.

264 Crystal, 12.

265 Interview (16), Nuzha, Kuwait, February 15, 2014. Kuwait University’s College for Women existed from 1966 until November 20th, 2013, when it became the College of Life Sciences. See: “A Brief History,” Kuwait University, Online: http://www.kuniv.edu/ku/AboutKU/BriefHistory/index.htm.

147 With the influx of money, Kuwait’s government set out to modernize and expand Kuwait city. In 1952 the government established a Development Board. One year after Kuwaiti independence in 1961, this organization was replaced with a Planning Board. However, the expansion of Kuwait’s infrastructure - including its bureaucratic government - was not always in the service of a technocratic and meritocratic administration. The increase in oil revenues “gravely inflated the Civil Service and…contributed to the growth of

disguised unemployment amongst Kuwaiti citizens.266 This meant that people were being hired not for their technical expertise but rather to prevent them from being unem- ployed and opposing the leadership as a result. As Britain’s ambassador to Kuwait wrote in a 1969 report, “Kuwait has maintained her independence so far by buying off her own

people.”267 This bureaucracy-as-jobs-program perpetuated kinship-based wasta because

People could use their position within the bureaucracy to favor kin both inside and outside the organization. The lack of bureaucratic expertise was not, practically, a barrier to entering the bureaucratic system and receiving a monthly paycheck. The use of kinship identity within such bureaucracies for access to resources contributed to the enduring utility of kinship.

As merchant families continued to challenge the authority of the al-Sabah ruling family, the Emir again began looking to tribes to balance their influence. Historically in Kuwait,

266 “First Five Year Development Plan 1967/8 - 1971/2” Development Plans of the GCC States (Kuwait 1) (Cambridge UK: Archive Editions): 5.

267 “The Future of Kuwait. Mr. Falle to Mr. Stewart, 27 May 1969,” Records of Kuwait, 1899-1961: 1969, ed. Alan Rush (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 1989): 30.

148 these tribal groups have been loyal to the royal family and serve to check the power of

merchant families who often demanded more freedoms.268 However, these tribes had no proto-bureaucratic or supra-tribal leadership. Since the dirah was managed by the tribe, there was no need for a such a structure to allocate resources. Disputes over territory were mediated by agreement between tribes or conflict between them. As a result, there was no bureaucratic authority structure to which the Kuwaiti ruling family could appeal.

The resource access upon which these tribal relations were based constrained the government’s options for state building.

Thus the government reached out directly to tribes. In 1961, it offered citizenship to members of the Ajman tribe with social services and housing, in exchange for military

service.269 At the time, the Ajman were living in shanty towns in Jahra, as well as in al-

Wafra in the south and al-Shamia in the north hoping to gain employment in Kuwait’s oil industry or in its security services. The houses in these towns were made of wood or

fiber board, and water came in via truck - a 2,000 gallon tank cost twelve dollars.270

These towns were illegal under Kuwaiti law, but the royal family recognized that as a kinship group, the Ajman could be powerful allies against merchant family pressure.

Thus, they set out to bring the Ajman under the auspices of the state.

268 Starting around 2011, however, these groups have been involved in opposition protests against the ruling family.

269 Crystal, 88.

270 al-Haddad, 112-113; 121.

149 In the early 1970’s, Kuwait’s Planning Board enlisted the help of the British firm Colin

Buchanan and partners to design a newly developed Kuwait and settle the bedu into

permanent housing. 271 The firm’s 1971 plan, like many initiatives before it, engaged the tribes as kinship groups. It called for settling the bedu population at the edge of Kuwait

City as the first stage in a “transition from desert to urban living.” It still allowed for the presence of “wandering Bedouin,” at least at first, and envisioned such communities as depots for obtaining water, supplies, and medical attention. It also set out to demolish

the shanty towns outside of downtown Kuwait City within a 10-year period.272

Water featured prominently in the government’s plans. Colin Buchanan and Partners suggested that the state create “places where the wandering Bedouins could get water and supplies.” It also suggested that bedu could use newly sunk wells for agriculture.

The firm believed this kind of rural settlement plan would be more successful than forc-

ing the bedu into urban areas where their lifestyle would change drastically.273

271 “First Five Year Development Plan 1967/8-1971/2” Development Plans of the GCC States 1962-1995 (Kuwait 1) (Cambridge, UK: Archive Editions): 26-7.

272 Colin Buchanan and Partners, “Studies for National Physical Plan and Master Plan for Urban Areas, 1971 (December 1971)” Development Plans of the GCC States 1962-1995 (Kuwait 1) (Cambridge, UK: Archive Editions): 44.

273 Colin Buchanan and Partners, “Studies for National Physical Plan and Master Plan for Urban Areas, 1971,” Development Plans of the GCC States, 1962-1995: Kuwait 3 (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge Archive Editions, 1994): 44.

150 Interviews with bedu who lived during this time in Kuwait indicate that generally, these

changes were welcome.274 A sixty-year resident of Jahra recalls growing up in a large tent and moving to a house for the first time in 1967. He paid 4,000 KD to the government in installments. He reflected upon the move favorably, noting that “everybody

wanted to move into a house because there was electricity and air conditioning.”275 An- other 57-year old interviewee moved into to a house for the first time in 1981, living be-

fore in a settlement of 20-30 tents.276 The firm’s strategy proved successful in settling the Bedouin but the kinship ties underlying the utility of kinship authority remained im-

portant through sedentarization.277

Even the government's active attempts to break up kinship authority during this period were unsuccessful. When a couple would get married, they asked the government for a house. These couples would then be placed on a waiting list until a house became available. One interview subject who had been granted a house by the government paid 4,000

KD (about $14,120 unadjusted for inflation) in installments for it. The government assigned housing on a first-come first-serve basis. However, house owners from different tribes often engaged in mutual swaps with each other so as to live near their respective

274 Some Bedouin found their houses too small and rented them out to non-Kuwaitis. See al-Haddad, 115.

275 Interview (89), Jahra, Kuwait, January 12, 2014.

276 Interview (63), Salmiya, Kuwait, February 5, 2014. Obtaining a house was an opt-in system. Requests in outlying areas such as Jahra came mostly from bedu. See: Interview (89), Jahra, Kuwait, February 5, 2014.

277 Interview (60), Jahra, Kuwait, March 5, 2014.

151 families. In Jahra, for example, Shammari and Thafiri families sometimes swapped

houses to be near their respective tribes.278

These mutual swaps happened among the hadhar as well. The discovery of oil prompted the Kuwaiti Government to expand Kuwait City with the creation of new neighborhoods. Among the first of these new neighborhoods were Kaifan, Shamia, al-Faiha, and

al-Roba.279 As the sons and daughters of Kuwait City’s residents moved into the newly created suburbs, they often built houses near each other using government loans. This proximity solidified kinship ties and the political influence of that family in that particu-

lar area of Kuwait.280

Housing swaps are an important indication of the power of kinship authority. Whereas in

Oman the government extended infrastructure to people, in Kuwait the government moved people onto infrastructure. This shift in lifestyle, social organization, and governance could have been a point at which kinship’s salience diminished. Instead, kinship authority retained power as people circumvented the bureaucratic administration of the state. The impact of this power had profound effects on the physical distribution of kinship groups in Kuwait. While the finding that urbanization can enhance kinship ties has existed since the early 1960’s, it is significant that these ties not only endure but retain

278 Interview (63), Salmiya, Kuwait, January 12, 2014.

279 This process sometimes involved the repurposing of existing structures. For example, the Nuzha area was previously the site of Kuwait’s airport. Its runway is now the area’s main street.

280 Interview (16), Nuzha, Kuwait, February 14, 2014.

152 political salience.281 That is, they matter in observable ways to obtaining resources and access within states.

Even as Kuwait’s bureaucratic governance apparatus developed, kinship remained an important means of social and political association. Kinship institutions originally had salience as a means for distributing water. Since access to this water was competitive, no proto-bureaucracies formed to overcome the collective action problem of water allocation and distribution. As the state formation process began, the government reached out to kinship groups, perpetuating the salience of kinship as an identity. Despite the creation of a set of bureaucratic institutions that today form the basis of the Kuwaiti state, kinship retained strong salience at the end of state building.

Post State Building In Kuwait

Kuwait differs from Oman in that alongside and within bureaucratic institutions, kinship identity has strong political salience. Patterns of state building constrained by competitive access to resources have created this strong salience. As specified below, kinship identity plays not a fundamental role in the governance of the state. One cannot understand Kuwaiti politics without knowledge of how kinship authority operates there.

281 See: Joan Aldous, “Urbanization, the Extended Family, and Kinship Ties in West Africa,” Social Forces 41 no. 1 (Oct. 1962): 6-12.

153 Ruling Family

Relations between members of the al-Sabah ruling family often determine access to power and resources, as Michael Herb (1999) has documented. While individual members may advance their own interests, the family as a whole makes major governance decisions by consensus. These include appointing a crown prince, opening the parlia-

ment. 282 Marriages between the al-Sabah and other families often had political significance. For example, Sheikh Jabber al-Mubarak al-Hamad al-Sabah married women from the powerful Mutair tribe while Mohammed Shahrar, a Mutairi, was head of the Council

of Ministers. 283 Such a marriage created an alliance that dis-incentivized antagonism between the speaker and the royal family. Another example is Sheikh Jabber’s son (Ahmed al-Jabir al-Sabah). He married Husa, daughter of Ibrahim bin Muhammed al Jabbar al-

Ghanim, a prominent member of the influential Kuwaiti al-Ghanim family.284 These marriages gave the royal family influence within these powerful kinship-based groups and dis-incentivized conflict. They also gave the al-Sabah influence in various branches of government, Crystal (1990) concurs that:

“Because the rulers actively incorporated the ruling family into state positions, institutions grew up that were both bureaucratic and familial…Rulers were able to manipulate newly reinforced family ties to penetrate and control the new, oil-induced bureaucracy.”285

282 Michael Herb, All In The Family: Absolutism, Revolution, and Democracy in the Middle Eastern Monarchies (Albany: State University of New York Press, 1999): 33, 36.

283 Interview (35), Salmiya, Kuwait, February 24, 2014.

284 Dickson, 41.

285 Crystal, 12.

154 The royal family deliberately placed its members in influential government positions.

Today, Members of the royal family receive monthly stipends and serve in leadership positions in Kuwait’s government, academic, and private sectors. In contrast to Oman’s al-Said, the al-Sabah family is large, boasting over 1200 members. In 2013, seven of

these members were appointed to Kuwait’s of the sixteen-member cabinet.286 Oman’s

2013 cabinet has seven members of the Al Said or Albusaidi family, but out of twenty-

nine total seats. 287

National Governance

Kuwaitis’ interactions with the government are often based on wasta. Despite official channels for job applications, Kuwait’s ministries reflect the salience of kinship identity through informal nepotism and similar performative manifestations. Since these interactions are often off the record, interview evidence is useful in establishing the importance of wasta in Kuwait. While in Oman wasta is one of many salient identities in governance, in Kuwait it often plays a central role.

Interviewee: All relations affect your personal interest. So you couldn’t get anything done. You couldn’t even maybe get into a hospital if you don’t have wasta. If you’re going to go into a government hospital, [or] get a job. Getting a job is all through wasta.288

While wasta can take many forms, kinship-based wasta is considered the best.:

286 B. Izzak, “Cabinet Sworn in with 7 Ruling Family Members,” Kuwait Times, August 4, 2013. http:// news.kuwaittimes.net/cabinet-sworn-in-with-7-ruling-family-members/.

287 The Sultan himself acts as Defense Minister, Foreign Minister, Chief of Staff of the Armed Forces, and chairman of the Central Bank.

288 Interview (58), Salmiya, Kuwait, March 6, 2014.

155 Interviewee: Of course wasta from family is better than friends…Because family...you have more of a responsibility towards them. So it’s very hard for you to say, “no” or ignore them. Because you don’t want to cut off relationships with your family. That will happen if you don’t go through wasta with them. That’s the best wasta that you can get.289

This sense of mutual obligation proves crucial for Kuwaitis looking for jobs or looking

to circumvent an often entangled bureaucratic process.

Interviewee: You either get an appointment ahead of everyone else or you donʼt based on… whether you have the right connections, whether you have people on the inside...you see a lot of bedu get away with tickets, for instance. They are related in some way with their captain or whatever…And so they talk to them and they get away with pretty much anything.290

Hadhar also experience similar preference based on family ties, as one hadhar Kuwaiti

recounts:

Interviewee: I got my driver’s license - I passed my test and all, but still, because of wasta, the guy who was - when I was doing the test would tell me, “anything you need, let me know. I’ll do it for you.”291

These kinship ties continue to be politically salient because they ensure their members

with resources and access. Interviews confirm that the use of kinship ties is a preferred

way to get this access. This kinship authority not only subsumes bureaucratic procedures

but often replaces them - in obtaining a license or getting out of a parking ticket, for ex-

ample.

289 Interview (58), Salmiya, Kuwait, March 6, 2014.

290 Interview (21), Salmiya, Kuwait, November 21, 2013.

291 Identity withheld due to the sensitivity of the interview content. The phenomenon of passing license tests based on wasta was confirmed in off-the-record conversations with other Kuwaitis.

156 Kinship ties also manifest themselves in the leadership of the Kuwait Oil Company

(KOC). The company was founded February 2, 1934 and was the first company to dis-

cover commercially exploitable oil in Kuwait.292 The Emir at the time, Sheikh Ahmed al-Jabber al-Sabah, put Kuwait’s oil under the ownership of the bureaucratic state rather

than the ruling family.293 The Kuwait Oil Company is a subsidiary of the Kuwait Pe- troleum Corporation, a Government-owned holding company which overseas all of

Kuwait’s oil operations. Despite this formal bureaucratic designation, the ruling family has created extensive ties to the Kuwait Oil Company whose oil revenues are a back- bone of the Kuwaiti economy. One of Sheikh Ahmed’s wives, Nura al-Tahus, whom he married in 1931, was the sister of Muhammed Al-Tahus, head guard of the Kuwait Oil

Company. 294 Members of the royal family sit on the boards of Kuwait’s oil companies.

Per decree of the Ministry of Oil, Kuwait’s Supreme Oil Council consists of the Prime

Minister - a member of the royal family, and four Ministers appointed by the Emir.295

These embedded family members give the royal family important influence based on kinship authority.

292 Mary Ann Tetreault, The Kuwait Petroleum Corporation and the Economics of the New World Order (Westport, CT: Quantum Books, 1995): 2.

293 “Kuwait: The Internal Situation. Mr. Arthur to Mr. Stewart (6 January, 1969),” Records of Kuwait, 1899-1961: 1969, ed. Alan Rush (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 1989): 73.

294 Alan Rush, Al-Sabah: History and Genealogy of Kuwait’s Ruling Family, 1752-1987 (Atlantic High- lands, NJ: Ithaca Press, 1987): 58.

295 “Decree for Establishing the Supreme Petroleum Council (26 August, 1974),” Ministry of Oil, State of Kuwait. Online: http://www.moo.gov.kw/About-Us/Ministry-Decrees/Decree-for-Establishing-the- Supreme-Petroleum-Coun.aspx.

157 Regional Government

Kuwait’s elections involve the use of tribal primaries. While these primaries are illegal under Kuwaiti law, they known to occur nonetheless. Unlike Oman’s scattered primaries, Kuwait’s tribal primaries are organized and pervasive. The first round of primaries occurred with the assent of the government, which wanted tribal candidates to

balance out merchant family representation in the parliament.296 These tribal primaries have occurred since 1961 and continue today. A civil society leader in Kuwait claimed that in the 2013 parliamentary elections, there were fifty-five tribal primaries. Of these,

five were prosecuted.297 These primaries incentivize individual members of a given tribe or family to rally around a particular candidate in Kuwait’s national election. In return

the candidate is more likely to address tribal interests.298 Tribal support has been an important aspect of the ruling family’s strategy to remain in power. Strong historical support from tribal candidates has balanced against opposition from Kuwait City’s merchant families. While Kuwait enjoys many aspects of democratic governance, parallel kinship

authority structures facilitate the preservation of the al-Sabah family’s leadership.299

296 Crystal, 88.

297 Interview (130), [location undisclosed for subject’s well-being], Kuwait, December 24, 2013.

298 See: Kamal Eldin Osman Salih, “Kuwait Primary (Tribal) Elections 1975-2008: An Evaluative Study,” British Journal of Middle Eastern Studies 38 no. 2 (2011): 141-167.

299 Protests in 2011 included a strong tribal element. The seriousness with which Kuwait’s government approached this swing from tribal support to tribal opposition is an indication of how fundamental it is to Kuwait’s governance.

158 Because of Kuwait’s small size, local governance is through 56 neighborhood municipalities (baladiyat) which came under the authority of the Ministry of Municipalities in

2005.300 These municipalities, created in Kuwait’s basic law of 1932, are responsible for sanitation, building licenses and development among other functions. The municipality

is financially independent of the ruler and is elected.301 While baladiyas are run by local residents, these residents often settled along kinship lines during state building. Thus, while informal, kinship can determine who is likely to be in leadership positions within the baladiyas.

Personal Politics

Kinship identity remains salient through Kuwait’s diwaniya system. The system allows for political discussion free of certain restrictions the state imposes on public debate, and serves as a site of political association for Kuwaitis. The diwaniya itself is a room in a house used specifically for receiving guests. The (traditionally male) gathering inside the room is called a diwaniya as well. The size of the room depends on the size and status of the family. Some diwaniyas are the size of a large bedroom while others easily can seat

100 people. Affluent families have, in recent years, built their own free-standing diwaniyas separate from the family house. Traditionally, however, the weekly diwaniyas are held at a senior male family member’s house.

300 Interview (130), Hawally, Kuwait, December 24, 2013.

301 Jill Crystal, Oil and Politics in the Gulf: Rulers and Merchants in Kuwait and Qatar (New York, NY: Cambridge University Press, 1990): 46.

159 Any male may attend any weekly diwaniya in Kuwait and social codes dictate that he must be given hospitality - usually tea, coffee, and dates but sometimes a full dinner as well. Usually, however, diwaniya attendees are male family members and the husbands, brothers, and close cousins of female family members. This gathering contrasts to weekly family visits, or zuaras, which are held at a grandmother's (sometimes a grandfather’s) house and involve a meal shared between men, women, and children. The zuara is less formal and apolitical, but many Kuwaitis block off an evening of their week to attend the family zuara, and men often discuss diwaniya politics there in the presence of

the family’s women. 302

Seating at a diwaniya is often by status, with senior family members as hosts at one end of the room, and lower status or younger attendees seated further away. Junior attendees are taciturn and usually do not speak unless spoken to. Attendance at diwaniyas is con-

sidered good family politics, though many Kuwaitis no longer attend them regularly.303

Among those who do, however, it is not uncommon for a man to attend three to five diwaniyas in a given night, making a quick appearance at each.

302 Interview (21), Salmiya, Kuwait, November 25, 2013; Interview (70), Salmiya, Kuwait, December 18, 2013; Interview (58), Salmiya, Kuwait, March 13, 2014.

303 When asked the interview question “Do you attend weekly diwaniyas?” one of the most common re- sponses from Kuwaiti males across age, class, and background was “I don’t, but I should.”

160 Because its purpose is to incentivize association and strong family ties, the diwaniya is an important kinship-based political institution in Kuwait. Since Kuwait’s first parliamentary elections in 1962, election campaigns have taken place in diwaniyas, with candidates lining up outside them and entering one by one to give stump speeches and an-

swer questions about their political platform.304 It was also customary for the Emir to visit diwaniyas during holidays, and foreign diplomats visit the diwaniyas of influential families as well.

The diwaniya is an important arena for feedback to government policies. Since diwaniya attendees are usually among family and always in a private space, the tone of the dis- course is more honest and open than in the public sphere. This openness reaches a peak

during election season.305 While reaction to a government policy may be boiler plate outside, resentment or opposition may be more characteristic of discussions inside the diwaniya. Visits to diwaniyas by Kuwaiti government officials, including the Emir, are intended to gauge public opinion and provide a crucial mechanism for feedback. When feedback breaks down, diwaniyas can also be the gathering site for demonstrations. Ac-

304 “Despatch No. 3, British Embassy, Kuwait (31 January, 1967),” in Records of Kuwait, 1966-1971: 1967, ed. Alan Rush (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 1989): 72; Interview (74), Salmiya, Kuwait, January 6, 2014.

305 Interview (74), Salmiya, Kuwait, January 6, 2014.

161 tivists choose diwaniyas because they know the police are reluctant to enter the private

home to break up the gathering.306

Marriage is also an important manifestation of kinship identity in Kuwait. Unlike in

Oman, the Kuwaiti government gives a small grant to Kuwaitis who marry.307 Inter- family marriages are political - they build stronger ties between two historically connected groups, and preserve the exclusivity of the group and the resources it controls.

Marriage is subject to the influence of members of the kinship group with authority. As a marriage between a man and a woman is arranged, family members will make inquiries into the background of the prospective spouse’s family. It is preferable that this individual come from a family with a relatively high status. This will give the couple - and the family - access to new resources and opportunities. It also preserves the exclusivity of high-status families, who only marry from within each other’s ranks. One interviewee reveals explains how her family approaches marriage:

Interviewee: If you’re going to marry from the labor class, that is a big no-no. That is...a big no-no. For instance, if you’re going to marry Asian [expatriates]...it’s not right. That’s how they think it is.308

306 A raid on a diwaniya in 2011 was met with deep resentment by Kuwaitis. See: Kristin Smith Diwan, “The Politics of Transgression in Kuwait,” Foreign Policy, April 19, 2013. Online: http://foreignpolicy.- com/2013/04/19/the-politics-of-transgression-in-kuwait/.

307 In 2015, this grant was 2,000 KD, or about $6,600. See: B. Izzak, “Lawmakers Rejeft Proposed Mea- sures to Reduce Welfare - New Anti-Corruption Law to be Approved on Jan 12,” Kuwait Times, Decem- ber 27, 2015. Online: http://news.kuwaittimes.net/website/lawmakers-reject-proposed-measures-to-reduce-welfare/.

308 Interview (58), Salmiya, Kuwait, March 13, 2014.

162 Family status in Kuwait is based on a combination of three elements. Most important is the affluence or the political influence of the family. Second, and strongly impacting the first, is the length of time the family been established in Kuwait. The third and final

consideration is the purity of the family line.309 Many Kuwaiti families prefer that a potential spouse come from a “pure” (asl) line. “Purity” refers to whether it is possible to trace back this individual’s roots to a known family lineage. Referring to someone as khikri, or a mutt, is highly pejorative in Kuwait. Well-established families in Kuwait may also use the term baysari to refer to someone whose blood line is unknown. A

merchant might even disown a son who marries a baysari woman.310 This is because such marriages reflect not only on the couple, but on each’s family as well. This strati- fication contrasts with Oman, where “there isn’t really a derogatory word for people

with mixed lineage.” 311

Couples in Kuwait must take into account not only their personal reputation (sum’a) in a marriage but that of their family as well. A bad reputation can harm the family’s ability to marry off other family members and could be a source of political embarrassment.

Given the importance of kinship ties in many other aspects of Kuwaiti political life, marriage plays an important role in creating kinship relations that maintain political salience.

309 A family that is long-established in Kuwait but is not affluent or influential would of a lower status than a family which arrived later but achieved financial and political success. Specific examples are withheld here due to the sensitivity of family status in Kuwait.

310 Interview (61), Jahra, Kuwait, January 12, 2014.

311 Interview (12), Qurum, Oman, April 1, 2014.

163 In summary, while in Oman the political salience of kinship had weak salience at the end of state building, in Kuwait it was strong. Resource access patterns constrained the ways in which Kuwait’s leaders reached out to tribes in ways that preserved the salience of kinship. State development, which was shaped in important ways by this outreach, further preserved the salience of kinship ties. The result is that following the major state building period in Kuwait, kinship identity retains strong political salience.

164 Chapter 8: Shadow Cases

The preceding chapters indicate that due to differences in resource access patterns, kinship identity has weak political salience in Oman and strong political salience in Kuwait.

This chapter considers the broader implications of these findings for political science. It begins with a short discussion of the importance of generalizability. Then, it re-examines the argument’s scope conditions and considers its theoretical generalizability. Finally, it examines the empirical and regional generalizability of the argument both within the

Arab Gulf and outside it.

A study of the Arabian Gulf may tell us interesting things about that region, but not necessarily about the mechanisms of politics more broadly. Given that this is a political science dissertation, it is important to demonstrate that politics in Oman and Kuwait are examples of some broader phenomenon. Showing this external validity maximizes the impact of the project’s findings and indicates paths for future research. It demonstrates that the project’s findings are of use to comparative politics as a sub-field and not only the fairly small group of scholars who study the Arabian Gulf region.

The first means of demonstrating generalizability is with regard to scope conditions.

While scope conditions are intended primarily to state the limits of the argument, they can also demonstrate that this scope is broader than just the cases in the analysis itself.

This project set out three categories of scope conditions - governance, state building, and

165 social conditions - which are not idiosyncratic to the Arab Gulf but rather applicable to many cases during the period in which modern national infrastructure was attainable.

Shadow cases are not as detailed as the two major cases used to evaluate the argument.

However, they demonstrate the broader empirical utility of the model. This chapter examines the cases of Qatar, Iran, and Somalia. The choice of regionally proximate cases allows for holding certain aspects of kinship and colonial intentions constant while varying aspects of state formation and social organization that are extraneous to the analysis.

The intention of these shadow cases is not to demonstrate decisively the validity of the model, but rather to highlight as plausible the generalizability of the argument beyond

Kuwait and Oman.

Qatar

Qatar is a state in which access to vital limited resources was competitive. During state building, the government attempted to consolidate power by building up public administration and engineering settlement patterns. However, kinship identity remained politically salient because of the historic relationship between tribes and the government. It continued to be salient after the state-building period. Qatar is a Gulf state which bears many resemblances to Kuwait. Its land area is similar, though it is slightly less populated. About 2 million people live in Qatar, 85% of whom are expatriates. Like Kuwait,

166 Qatar gained independence from Britain in 1971 and enjoys substantial oil revenues.312

Most importantly, access to Qatar’s water, similar to Kuwait, was competitive. An examination of the case demonstrates that kinship has strong political salience there after state building.

Qatar Before State Building

Kinship authority played a large historical role in governance in Qatar. Traditionally, tribal leaders were in charge of judicial and administrative matters in their tribes. Fol- lowing the withdrawal of Saudi forces in 1851, however, Mohammad bin Thani became

the de-facto leader of Qatar.313 Today the Al Thanis remain the royal family in the country with the help of support from tribes including the al-Murrah and al-Hawjer during the founding of the state.

In 1905, Qatar was home to roughly 27,000 members of various tribes. As in Kuwait, the major source of income was pearl diving as well as fishing and mercantile trade.

Qatar’s small towns were located along the coast or close to channels and bays. Migrato-

ry bedu also lived in the interior.314 These tribal populations depended on herding camels

312 Geoff Harkness and Rana Khaled, “Modern Traditionalism: Consanguineous Marriage in Qatar,” Jour- nal of Marriage and Family 74 (June 2014): 591.

313 Habibur Rahman, The Emergence of Qatar (London: Kegan Paul International, 2005): 7-8.

314 Sharon Nagy, “Social and Spatial Process: An Ethnographic Study of Housing in Qatar,” (PhD diss., University of Pennsylvania, 1997): 95-6.

167 and goats to sustain themselves.315 There was almost no agriculture in Qatar, and vil- lagers in and around Doha (the modern capital of Qatar) kept only a few horses and cat-

tle which bedu tended on their behalf.316 The city itself was divided into nine quarters

linked with narrow streets, with a small souk consisting of about 50 shops.317

Families were closely connected in early Qatar. Hadhar populations were close both

within the house and between houses in a neighborhood.318 Nomadic and migratory bedu lived further inland. For both groups, families were part of larger kinship groups that were administered by a sheikh. The sheikh had the power to resolve problems both inside and outside the kinship group, and represented his tribe to other sheikhs in the

Gulf region.319

Water in Qatar

Access to water resources was competitive in Qatar. Qatar is one of the most water-

scarce countries in the world, and it has no surface water.320 Many early tribal disputes

315 Ali A. Hadi and AL Shawi, “Political Influences of Tribes in the State of Qatar: Impact of Tribal Loyalty on Political Participation,” (PhD diss., Mississippi State University, 2002): 8.

316 Rahman, 6-7, John Gordon Lorimer, Gazetteer of the Persian Gulf,’Oman, and Central Arabia (Volume II) (Caltutta, Superintendent Government Printing, 1908): 490.

317 Lorimer, 487-88.

318 Nagy, 66.

319Hadi and Shawi, 9.

320 Victoria Scott, “Managing Water Supply a Key Challenge Facing Qatar, Expert Says,” Doha News, No- vember 26, 2013. Online: http://dohanews.co/managing-water-supply-a-key-challenge-facing-qatar-expert- says/

168 in Qatar revolved around boundaries and the ownership of Qatar’s limited number of

wells. 321 Like in Kuwait, tribes controlled wells in Qatar. Yet these wells were few and far between. In the early 1900’s, Doha itself had one well about half a mile south of the city. Most of the population obtained its water from a well about three miles inland called Bir-al-Jadidah (the new well), but the royal Al- Thani family, notables, and Turk- ish officers who were in Qatar at the time obtained water from another set of wells in

Na’aijah. 322

State Building in Qatar

The basis of Qatar’s state building process was oil revenue. Oil concession in Qatar began in 1935 and was carried out under the auspices of the Anglo-Persian Oil Company.

The concession was then transferred in 1936 to Petroleum Development (Qatar) Ltd.

Shortly thereafter, the company began work began on two artesian wells, but neither of

them successfully bore water.323

321 Hadi and Shawi, 9.

322 Lorimer, 491. Lorimer notes that the Turkish military outpost had it’s own well, which was guarded by eight men in a watch tower.

323 ‘File 82/27 VIII F 91 QATAR OIL' [31r] (70/468), British Library: India Office Records and Private Papers, IOR/R/15/1/633, in Qatar Digital Library. Online: http://www.qdl.qa/en/archive/81055/vd- c_100023800656.0x000048; 'File 82/27 VIII F 91 QATAR OIL' [40r] (90/468), British Library: India Of- fice Records and Private Papers, IOR/R/15/1/633, in Qatar Digital Library. Online: http://www.qdl.qa/en/ archive/81055/vdc_100023800656.0x00005c; 'File 82/27 VIII F 91 QATAR OIL' [210r] (436/468), British Library: India Office Records and Private Papers, IOR/R/15/1/633, in Qatar Digital Library. Online: http:// www.qdl.qa/en/archive/81055/vdc_100023800658.0x000025.

169 Bureaucratic public administration in Qatar began in 1949.324 As Qatar began exporting oil, it requested a financial advisor from Britain to manage its oil revenues. The adviser set up departments and slowly began to fill them with employees. These departments

were institutionalized by Qatar’s 1970 constitution.325

Qatar’s regions were divided into municipalities beginning with the capital, Doha, in

1963.326 The expansion of Doha engulfed preexisting settlements including Bidda, Jasra, and Wadi as-Sail. New towns were also constructed to support the emerging oil industry

in Qatar.327 In addition, the government made an attempt to settle tribal populations and foster loyalty to the state. It offered them free housing and job opportunities. Like in

Kuwait, many of these jobs were in the military sector.328 Yet these initiatives preserved the political salience of kinship identity by making it useful for obtaining resources and access.

Kinship identity retained strong salience for urban populations in Qatar despite the rise of bureaucratic authority. In the 1950’s, wealthy families began building modern houses.

324 Abdallah Yousef al-Maliki, “Public Administration in the State of Qatar: Origin, Development, Prob- lems, and Current Directions,” (PhD diss., Golden Gate University, 1989): 28-9.

325 al-Maliki, 64, 71.

326 al-Maliki, 73.

327 Nagy, 97.

328 Hadi and Shawi, 2.

170 However, regional development did not take place until later, in 1970.329 On the advice of the British firm Llewellyn-Davies, Qatar established a land purchasing plan to develop its urban center. However, the government faced difficulty acquiring prime real-estate because it cost more than expected to purchase it from its owners. As a result, insufficient funds remained to develop the acquired properties. Additionally, some Qataris re- sented being relocated while their land remained undeveloped decades later. In other words, they were reluctant to internalize certain government-imposed changes to their identity. Their homes downtown were rented out to low-income workers, rather than be-

ing demolished and the land being developed. 330

While the state provided housing according to government regulations, Qataris some-

times resisted or avoided compliance with these official policies.331 The bureaucratic state was not always able to overcome kinship authority among Qataris. Additionally, high prices in Doha itself incentivized illegal land development on the city’s outskirts, which posed a problem for the British firm Shankland Cox and its plan to develop the

capital. 332 Starting in 1995, the government commissioned three desalination plants that

329 Nagy, 109-110.

330 Nagy, 111.

331 Nagy, 104.

332 Nagy, 121-2.

333 “Water and Desalination,” Hukoomi - Qatar e-Government. Online: http://portal.www.gov.qa/wps/portal/topics/Environment+and+Natural+Resources/Water+and+Desalination

171 now account for almost all of Qatar’s water supply.333 Yet in this larger development of the country, the government re-affirmed the political salience of kinship identity.

Post State Building in Qatar

Kinship identity in contemporary Qatar remains politically salient. Many young Qataris

can name the families into which they will most likely be married.334 Marriage between

Qatari and non-Qatari citizens is very rare. Rather, marriages in Qatar usually take place

within families or between families of a similar economic status.335 Qataris have complained that the new styles of housing in the country make interactions with family and neighbors difficult. Yet these same individuals have worked hard to overcome these ob-

stacles. These efforts indicate that incentives to maintain kinship ties remain high.336

Among the royal family, kinship remains strongly salient in Qatar. Both members of the royal Al-Thani family and those who have married into the family enjoy special titles,

positions, and financial benefits.337 Members of the eighteen major tribes in Qatar serve

334 Nagy: 47.

335 al-Maliki, 50.

336 Nagy, 145.

337 Allen James Fromherz, Qatar: A Modern History (New York: I.B. Tauris & Co. Ltd): 134.

172 in important positions in both the government and the army as an incentive for continued

loyalty.338

Elections are also highly tribal. A survey conducted after the 1999 municipal elections found that almost all respondents reported voting primarily according to tribal affilia-

tion. 339 This voting pattern indicates that individuals in Qatar continue to benefit politically from their kinship ties.

In Qatar, access to water resources was competitive prior to state building. These resources were distributed via networks in which kinship identity was strongly salient. As the state building process took place, development policies reaffirmed the political salience of kinship identity. This salience is strong in the post state building period.

Iran

Iran is a case where access to resources was cooperative. As in Oman, proto- bureaucratic institutions built, maintained, and held authority over these networks.

Throughout a tumultuous state-building period marked by a series of coups, authority over these institutions was decentralized but bureaucratic in nature. Today, kinship identity has weak political salience in Iran.

338 Hadi and Shawi, 22-23.

339 Fromherz, 136.

173 The Islamic Republic of Iran is a state with a population of roughly 77.5 million people that shares certain similarities with Oman. Both were historic powers in the Gulf region.

Both experienced coups in which the British played a role. Additionally, the aflaj system

in Oman is a technological cousin of the qanat system of channels in Iran.340 While the management of both systems are different, Iran is a case where the creation of proto-bureaucratic structures reduced the political salience of kinship identity.

Iran Before State Building

Access to resources in Iran was cooperative. Water flowed to Iran’s villages and towns via channels called qanat. While major cities, including the capital Tehran, obtained water from qanat until after World War II, the qanat have played a continuously important

role in the political organization of non-urban areas too.341 The men in charge of constructing these qanat were known as muqanni and they passed down their skill set orally

from father to son. 342 In addition to constructing qanat, the muqanni were also responsi-

ble for their cleaning and maintenance.343

340 For a detailed explanation of how qanat made their way to Iran from Persia, See: Dale Lightfoot, “The Origin and Diffusion of Qanats in Arabia: New Evidence from the Northern and Southern Peninsula,” The Geographical Journal 166 no. 3 (2000): 221.

341 Paul Ward English, “Qanats and Lifeworlds in Iranian Plateau Villages,” Yale F&ES Bulletin 103 (1998): 198.

342 Mohammad Reza Balali, Jozef Keulartz, and Michiel Korthals, “Reflexive Water Management in Arid Regions: The Case of Iran,” Environmental Values 18 no. 1 (February 2009): 96.

343 Michael E. Bonine, “From Qanat to Kort: Traditional Irrigation Terminology and Practices in Central Iran,” Iran 20 (1982): 148.

174 The people in Iran’s villages and towns were organized into a group called a Buneh, a multi-family collective which allocated resources among them. Given limited resources, this collective approach allowed the different families of the Buneh to benefit by pooling their collective resources. Administration of the Buneh was proto-bureaucratic.

Landowners chose a sarBuneh or abyar to manage the Buneh with the help of an administrative staff of four or five assistants. The sarBuneh was responsible for distributing land, assigning crops to each farmer, and coordinating irrigation of the farmland. In addition, the muqanni who built qanat were employed by the sarBuneh when their services

were required. 344 Larger towns and villages employed a mirab to keep track of water shares, which were traded similarly to the athar in Oman. These officials were village

members and their position was usually permanent.345

Iran During State Building

Like Oman, Iranian state building occurred with a heavy British influence. Iran, like

Oman, was an empire of its own with a series of dynasties that gained significant territorial holdings for the Persia. British influence in Persia was originally based on trade interests. However, in the 20th century Britain was involved in a repeated series of interventions into Iranian politics. After a 1905 revolution which established a parliament and imposed a constitution on Mozaffar ad-Din Shah, the British signed the Anglo-Russ- ian convention of 1907. This agreement between Britain and Russia denied Persian au-

344 Balali et al., 97-8.

345 Bonine, 157.

175 tonomy and helped Britain solidify support for the monarchy despite the objection of many Persians who sought a constitutional state. Tribes also played an important role in protecting the monarchy from these constitutionalists. While the monarchy reached out to these tribes for protection, the British also reached out to them in order to gain access

to oil, going so far as to design plans for a tribal “statelet” in the center-south of Iran.346

In 1921, the British helped engineer a coup that brought Reza Shah Pahlavi to the throne. Abrahamian (2008) argues that Reza Shah “took over a country with a ram-

shackle administration and left it with a highly centralized state.”347 Britain aided in this regard, throwing its support behind the new Shah during tribal rebellions in 1924 and

1929. With this British support, the Pahlavi state was able to extend its power into the

periphery in order to disarm and settle tribes.348 Reza Shah divided Iran’s eight provinces into fifteen, each with counties, municipalities, and rural districts. Regional governors and town mayors no longer semi-independent, but rather were appointed by the In-

terior Minister in consultation with the Shah.349 The Shah also instituted a patronage system which offered jobs, salaries, and pensions to workers and members of the military,

346 Stephanie Cronin, Tribal Politics in Iran: Rural Conflict and the New State, 1921-1941 (New York: Routledge, 2007): 18-19.

347 Ervand Abrahamian, A History of Modern Iran (New York, NY: Cambridge University Press, 2008): 65.

348 Stephanie Cronin, Armies And State Building in the Modern Middle East: Politics, Nationalism, And Military Reform (New York, NY: I.B. Taurus & Co., 2014): 124-5.

349 Abrahamian, 71.

176 which expanded rapidly under his rule. 350 The shah built up an army of over 100,000, began construction of a Trans-Iranian railroad in 1927, and built thousands of miles of

roads. 351 Revenues from oil royalties, tax delinquents, customs duties, and consumer

good taxes funded these projects.352

In 1932, Reza Shah he instituted a program to reduce the power of kinship authority and raise the power of bureaucracy. The program allowed the government to claim eminent domain over private agricultural land in exchange for barren land or other compensation.

It also allowed the government to claim water rights. This program allowed the Shah to reduce the power and influence of tribal leaders by coopting the rights afforded by pro-

to-bureaucratic systems into the national bureaucracy of the state.353 Whereas in the past tribal fighting power had been important to the protection of the regime, military technology in the hands of the state shifted this balance. Reza Shah also forcibly sedenta- rized nomadic tribes, and set out to “disarm, pacify, conscript, and, in some cases, ‘civi-

lize’” tribe members.354 While these changes bred resentment among tribal populations, they were made possible by a strong bureaucratic state that was able to co opt local pro- to-bureaucratic institutions.

350 Abrahamian, 72.

351 Elton L. Daniel, The History of Iran (Westport, CT: Greenwood Press, 2001): 135.

352 Abrahamian, 67.

353 Mohammad Gholi Majd, Great Britain and Reza Shah: The Plunder of Iran, 1921-1941 (Gainesville, FL: University Press of Florida, 2001): 186.

354 Abrahamian, 92.

177 Bureaucratization continued under the next ruler as well. After a lack of sufficient support for the war effort, the British forced the Shah to abdicate in favor of his son Mo- hammad Reza Pahlavi in September 1941. After the elected Prime Minister, Mohammed

Mossadegh nationalized Iran’s oil in 1951, Britain and the US engineered a coup in 1953 in which Mossadegh was overthrown. In 1963, Mohammed Reza began a series of reforms known as the “White Revolution” intended to strengthen the power of non-urban populations which supported the Pahlavi dynasty against urban upper-class families who were increasingly opposed to it. These reforms included the creation of a Department of

Land Reform and land redistribution programs. These programs shifted power such that

non-urban groups now interacted with government officials instead of local landlords.355

These landlords were limited in terms of how much land they were permitted to own, though they could pass villages to close relatives. Non-urban Iranians had to join rural cooperatives managed by the Ministry of Agriculture and the Ministry of Rural Affairs.

The reforms also reduced the number of nomads in Iran.356 Control of water resources also featured in the government’s reforms. A 1968 law declared that water is “national wealth and belongs to everyone,” and put the government in charge of maintaining water

355 James A. Bill, “Modernization and Reform From Above: The Case of Iran,” The Journal of Politics 32 no. 1 (February 1970): 32, 34.

356 Abrahamian, 131, 133.

357 Mehmood UI Hassan, Asad Sarwar Qureshi, and Nader Heydari, “A Proposed Framework for Irrigation Management Transfer in Iran: Lessons from Asia and Iran,” International Water Management Institute Working Paper 118 (2007): 7.

178 infrastructures. 357 However, the reforms did not penetrate very far into peripheral areas

of Iran. 358

Ultimately, these reforms stratified Iranian society and bred the resentment of Iranians.

Mohammed Reza Pahlavi was overthrown - and Britain ousted - in the Iranian Revolu- tion of 1979. Following the revolution, Iran’s government became an arena where various interest groups “jockeyed for influence” under an Islamic leadership led by Ayatol-

lah Khomenei. 359 However, bureaucratic authority endured in the form of a 270-person

Majles and a set of local showra councils that assisted governors and mayors.360 The

central bureaucracy of Iran swelled 304,000 civil servants in 1979 to 850,000 in 1982.361

Iran After State Building

The weakening of tribal power in Iran during the reign of Reza Shah coincided with the expansion of the bureaucratic state in Iran. While kinship remains important socially, political functions historically governed by kinship authority have come under the purview of the state bureaucracy.

358 Abrahamian, 142.

359 Abrahamian, 169.

360 Abrahamian, 166.

361 Abrahamian, 169.

179 Water after the state building period became the purview of the Iranian government. A

1983 law gave the Ministry of Energy responsibility for the distribution of water, although the Ministry delegates some authority to Regional Water Authorities to maintain

local infrastructure. 362 Additionally, the Ministry of Agriculture oversees water distribu-

tion for domestic use and collects fees accordingly.363 Similarly to Oman, management of local qanat are decentralized but ultimately bureaucratic.

This bureaucracy extends to other aspects of politics traditionally regulated by kinship authority. Marriage in Iran, for example, is not distinctly political. However it does play an important social role. As with other societies examined in this project, marriage is a family affair requiring lengthy discussions between the kinship groups who are to be

joined by the marriage.364 However, the state has been able to legislate in ways that override traditional kinship practices. The Family Protection Law of 1967, for example, extended new rights to women in marriages, restricted polygamy, and improved their

custody rights. 365 In addition, government modernization in Iran between the 1940s and

362 Mehmood UI Hassan, Asad Sarwar Qureshi, and Nader Heydari, “A Proposed Framework for Irrigation Management Transfer in Iran: Lessons from Asia and Iran,” International Water Management Institute Working Paper 118 (2007): 7-8.

363 “Legislation on Use of Water in Agriculture: Iran,” Library of Congress, May 1, 2015. Online: http:// www.loc.gov/law/help/water-law/iran.php.

364 Vida Nassehi-Benham, “Change and the Iranian Family,” Current Anthropology 26 no. 5 (December 1985): 557.

365 Nassehi-Benham, 558.

180 1970s increased the number of Iranian women with education and a job before marriage.

These women, while just one subset of the population, are less likely to marry within the traditional kinship structure.

Somaliland

In Somaliland, access to water resources was competitive. During state building, both the British and Somaliland governments attempted to impose bureaucratic initiatives, but had mixed success. As a result, kinship remained salient through the state building period. Somalia is a state outside the Gulf, but one which meets the scope conditions of the analysis. I examine the protectorate of British Somaliland during a period in which

British colonial authorities were capable of using infrastructure construction as part of the state-building process. Furthermore, the protectorate was characterized by the impo- sition of impersonal governance, resulting from colonial establishment of a centralized government. Finally, kinship groups in British Somaliland were, albeit at the lower levels of organization, based on reference to apical ancestors. They also remained salient after the state building process. The “state building” period in Somalia, for the purposes of this shadow case, refers to the period between British colonialism in the 1930s through the disbandment of Siad Barre’s Somali Revolutionary Socialist Party in 1976.

Somaliland Before State Building

Somaliland was ruled in the 19th century by a series of Sultans but eventually fell under the colonial control of Britain and Italy. British Somaliland was established in 1888 in

181 the north. Throughout the 1880s, Italy signed a series of treaties with the Sultans in central and southern Somaliland, creating the protectorate of Italian Somaliland. In World

War II, Britain occupied Italian Somaliland and following the war, it fell under British military administration. In 1949, the United Nations granted Italy a “trusteeship” of Ital- ian Somaliland under which Italy would prepare Somaliland for independence by 1960.

On July 1, 1960, this trusteeship merged with British Somaliland to form an independent

Somalia.

Access to water resources in British Somaliland was competitive, particularly during the drought season. This scarcity posed a problem for both pastoral nomads and farmers living in the territory. During the rainy season however, surface water was available and in the central Ogo region, deep wells provided sufficient resources for families and live-

stock alike. 366 Families in Somaliland were a unit of subsistence - they had herds consisting of sheep, goats, and camels. These families were pastoral but lived together and

cooperated to dig wells and meet other joint needs.367 Control of grazing lands was a function of strength and the kinship group’s ability to maintain its position against oth-

ers. 368 The non-urban populations who inhabited these lands herded either sheep and goats, or camels (which require less water). The camel-herding populations lived in what

366 Abdi Ismail Samatar, The State and Rural Transformation in Northern Somalia, 1884-1986 (Madison, WI: The University of Wisconsin Press, 1989): 14.

367 Samatar, 24.

368 I.M. Lewis, Blood and Bone: The Call of Kinship in Somali Society (Lawrenceville, NJ: The Red Sea Press, 1994): 23.

182 Lewis (1994) calls “nomadic hamlets.” These hamlets contained between three and six nuclear families and were led by the eldest man of the majority family. Boys began learning camel husbandry at the age of seven or eight and continued to work with

camels until marriage.369

Political kinship in Somaliland was usually based on patrilineal descent but in some cas-

es was matrilineal as well.370 Clans could also be comprised of a federation of kinship

groups.371 At a lower level, certain kinship group committed to each other, via contract, to pay blood ransom in the event the member of one group killed a member of another.

At higher levels, elder councils mediated disputes in an ad hoc council called a shir.372

However, the shir had no standing committees and was dissolved as soon as the dispute

was resolved. 373 It constituted a set of unwritten laws and was motivated by the principle

that individual liability was shared collectively among the kinship group.374 As Samatar explains: “Intra-Somali conflicts were resolved either through negotiation or at spear-

point.”375 At larger inter-clan conferences, elders might be supported by advisors, but no

369 Lewis, 25.

370 Alice Hashim, “Conflicting Identities in Somalia,” Peace Review 9, no. 4 (1997): 528.

371 Samatar, 25.

372 Also spelled “xeer.”

373 Samater, 26.

374 Gedamu Kalewongel Minale, “How Did Somaliland Emerge as a Stable and Peaceful Polity?” In- ternational Commentary 9, no. 34 (December 2013): 31.

375 Samatar, 36.

183 permanent proto-bureaucratic structure existed.376 Members of the shir drew authority and claimed expertise from their personal status rather than that given to them by the shir.

In addition, an “escort” system existed by which one kinship group’s caravan could travel through an area controlled by another kinship group on its way to trade with coastal merchants. The caravan would be “guided” by an escort called an abaan, whose kinship status held leverage with those who controlled the area. The abaan received a commis-

sion for his services based on the quantity and value of the good he was escorting.377

State Building in Somaliland

In the 1930’s, the British began a program of water boring and conservation to support pastoral populations in the colony. They also improved security and communication in non-urban areas. These improvements had the effect of rendering the kinship-based abaan escort system obsolete since traders could now conduct business in the interior

itself and drive the herds they purchased to the coast.378

Two facets of British colonial development preserved the salience of pre-existing kinship ties. First, the British divided political districts according to pre-existing clan terri-

376 Minale, 32.

377 Samatar, 27.

378 Samatar, 52-3.

184 tories. These delineations respected the kinship-based allocation of resources (territory and the water within these territories). Second, the British reached out to clan elders directly, signing treaties with many of them. While these elders often opposed colonial initiatives such as taxation of pastoral population, many later became members of the colo-

nial administration.379 Thus the kinship-based arrangements of resource allocation that pre-dated British state building remained in place.

Kinship authority in British Somaliland sometimes endured British attempts to over-ride it. For example the British tried to establish schools in which Somali would be the language of instruction. However, local opponents argued that this instruction would dimin- ish the importance of Arabic, but more importantly would reduce the status of non-So- mali speaking tribes. As a result of this opposition, the educational policy was never im- plemented and by the end of the 1930s only one elementary school existed in the coun-

try. 380

British and Italian Somaliland united to form an independent Somalia in 1960. The So- mali Republic had democratic institutions and lasted 9 years. In 1969, the Republic’s president, Abdirashid Ali Shermarke was killed by his bodyguard and a military coup ensued. Following the ouster of President Shermarke, Major General Mohamed Siad

Barre became the leader of the independent Somali Democratic Republic.

379 Samatar, 44, 57.

380 Samatar, 49.

185 Somalia After State Building

Expansion of the bureaucratic state in Somalia had mixed success. Following independence, Siad Barre began a program of expanding public infrastructure in an attempt to build up the Somali state as a socialist society. Education opportunities grew alongside a literacy campaign. The government also oversaw the development of agricultural and fishing projects as the basis of economic growth, although this effort proved unsuccess-

ful. 381

Barre took an antagonistic approach toward kinship, attempting to impose socialism in place of traditional means of authority. However, these initiatives often backfired. Even following the coup, the majority of Somalis continued their traditional occupations in

herding, fishing, and farming.382 Despite development in urban centers, the government constructed roads, clinics, and schools only in rare cases, and the population did not use

the government as a means of settling disputes.383 For example, Barre eliminated codes

allocating water, land, and grazing rights to clans.384 Effigies of “tribalism” were burned

381 Nina J. Fitzgerald, Somalia: Issues, History, and Bibliography (Huntington, NY: Nova Science Publish- ers, 2002): 23-4.

382 Michele Gonnelli, “Clan and State Politics in Somalia: Between Local Governance and Federalism, International Actors and Pirates,” International Commentary 9, no. 34 (December 2013): 8.

383 Benjamin Powell, Ryan Ford, and Alex Nowrasteh, “Somalia after state collapse: Chaos or improvement?” Journal of Economic Behavior & Organization 67 (2008): 660.

384 Fitzgerald, 23.

186 and the payment of blood randoms were made illegal.385 Barre also ordered Somalis to address each other as “comrade” rather than “cousin,” and forbade asking about clan affiliation. Somalis, however, circumvented this mandate by asking each other about

“former” clan affiliation. 386 In addition, Barre remained in power by manipulating existing kinship ties and personal favors among senior officials. He gave preference to mem-

bers of his own Daarood clan.387 Other political elites used kinship as a way to access

state resources and as a patronage network.388 Bradbury (2008) concludes that “the kinship system remains an important feature of Somali social, political, and economic life

despite more than forty years of state-building.”389

Thus, even despite attempts to degrade the political power of kinship identity in Soma- lia, it remained salient. This competitive access to resources that existed prior to state building were reaffirmed by both the British colonial government and that of Siad Barre.

As a result, kinship ties remained salient in the country following the state-building process.

385 Mark Bradbury, Becoming Somaliland (London: Progressio, 2008): 36.

386 Hashim, 531.

387 Fitzgerald, 39.

388 Bradbury, 14.

389 Bradbury, 15.

187 Taken together, each of the three cases illustrate that this dissertation’s causal model has explanatory power outside of the two major cases it examines. In Qatar, competitive access to vital limited resources set the conditions for kinship to have strong salience after state building. In contrast, cooperative access in Iran and Somalia set the conditions for weak kinship salience after state building. Patterns of extending infrastructure were constrained by the nature of this resource access.

Thus, while specific historical factors in these states may be unique, the factors shaping political outcomes within them are not. The plausible utility of this dissertation’s causal model outside the region speaks to the extent to which its findings carry broader political significance. They speak not only to cases within a particular region, but to a certain it- eration of state building that merits wider scholarly explanation and attention.

188 Chapter 9: Conclusion

This dissertation has taken on the question of why the salience of kinship authority varies across similar cases. The existing literature on kinship authority in bureaucratic states suffers from shortcomings in how it treats kinship groups. These accounts essentialize kinship and tend to focus on the material aspects of kinship rather than aspects of identity. They also treat cases of state building in historically tribal societies as analogous despite empirical outcomes to the contrary. The dissertation makes an original con- tribution by framing kinship as an identity and presenting a model linking historic patterns of water resource distribution to the political salience of kinship identity after state building. Specifically, it argues that when distribution networks are concentrated, kinship groups will form proto-bureaucracies that create weak salience for kinship identity.

When access to resources is competitive, patterns of state outreach to kinship groups create strong salience for kinship identity.

The dissertation presents a justification for its case selection, outlined scope conditions, and weighed the trade-offs of its methodological approach. From there, it considers the cases of Kuwait and Oman as the bases for evaluating the model. It argues that kinship salience in Oman was impacted by the creation of proto-bureaucracies. During and after state building, these proto-bureaucracies fell under the national bureaucracies of the

Omani state. The outcome in Oman is that kinship has weak political salience. Ministries are generally meritocratic and local leaders are often appointed and regulated by bureaucracies. In contrast, Kuwait has a series of institutions that are kinship-based. Diwaniyas,

189 political marriages, and other authoritative kinship institutions operate alongside the bureaucracies of the state. The origins of this coexistence are the dirah system of tribal land, in which each tribe controlled a specific territory. Each tribe also controlled its own water resources, meaning there was little need for cooperation as in the Omani case.

When the Kuwaiti royal family reached out to these groups, it did so in ways that preserved their kinship salience during and after state building. As a result, kinship has strong salience in Kuwait. Three shadow cases speak to the generalizability of the dissertation’s theoretical model.

Impact of Findings

These findings impact central debates in comparative politics on state building and the limits of bureaucratic governance. By addressing variation in the endurance of kinship identity, the dissertation nuances scholarly understandings of how kinship authority operates in modern bureaucratic states. Governance and the functioning of states are topics at the heart of comparative politics. Yet state bureaucratic authority co-exists with other kinds of authority, kinship authority being one prominent example. Studying the salience of kinship gives scholars a more accurate sense of how bureaucratic governance is articulated - and limited - in an important set of cases. These limitations are not only the result of limited state capacity, as many existing accounts argue. Rather, it is the interaction of different types of authority in states that constrains bureaucratic authority. In addition, by reframing old insights from modernization theory and state formation literature, the dissertation gains analytical leverage in contemporary scholarly work on pa-

190 tronage and ethnic identity. It considers kinship in the context of recent insights in the study of identity and highlights important questions surrounding the political relevance of these identities. Kinship groups possess a unique identity trait (super-stickiness) that distinguishes them from other kinds of identities. This dissertation shows how this unique trait constrains patterns of state building beyond the extent that a patronage network or electoral constituency would. It shows the unique political relevance of kinship groups by highlighting the way such groups’ interactions shape state outreach.

While patronage networks may benefit the state, they are often shaped by social groups to a larger extent than some scholars theorize. Systems of patronage in Kuwait and

Oman after state building were the result of resource access networks that pre-dated Eu- ropean tutelage. The dissertation presents a specific model of how these networks developed over time that accounts for the role of both states and kinship groups. With regards to ethnic identity, the findings nuance understandings which bridge between primordialist and constructivist conceptions. Using a new concept of “kinship performance,” they lend empirical support to theoretical work by Chandra and others on identity as a set of sticky and visible attributes. The findings show that while kinship is based on a genuine belief that two people are connected through an apical ancestor, there are certain contexts in which this connection has strong political salience and certain conditions in which it does not. It also considers performance not as an object of study in and of itself, but as an observable outcome that scholars can use to evaluate models of kinship’s political salience.

191 The findings also bridge between anthropology and political science as disciplines. The dissertation uses insights about kinship from anthropology as well as field work from anthropologists. It then frames these insights within a political context and uses methods of systematic inquiry to evaluate these insights. This interdisciplinary approach allows political scientists to consider kinship groups on their own terms, using rigorous work from other scholarly sources as a sound basis. This usage of anthropology literature in a political science dissertation also speaks to the utility of an interdisciplinary approach to certain issue areas in the field. Rather than generate a completely new theory of kinship, the dissertation builds upon the scholarly consensus of a discipline uniquely positioned to explain the concept.

The findings of this dissertation lay the groundwork for a broader research agenda on the political salience of kinship. Inquiries within this agenda might focus on how some of the scope conditions of this dissertation arose. For example, why did certain states extend infrastructure as a means of integrating kinship groups while others did not? Why did colonial powers change the configuration of kinship groups in some cases but not others? Resource access may play an important role in the answers to these questions.

Furthermore, having looked at cases where kinship is integrated within the governance of the state, it would be useful to also examine cases where conflict erupts during state building and explain variation in that regard.

192 The findings also raise important questions about the role of gender in kinship politics.

Under what conditions does gender impact whether kinship authority is salient? Why do individuals eschew traditional gender roles in some aspects of kinship politics but not others? Kinship’s political salience affects men and women in different ways. Men control capital and usually have primary access to the resources of a kinship group. Women act as gatekeepers to kinship groups when they decide whom to marry, and can give birth to new members of kinship groups. They are also gaining increasing access, in some societies, to the resources and access of kinship groups. A deeper inquiry into the way gender mediates kinship authority would build upon the work presented here. It would also be a further extension of the concept of performance as identity by examining gender performance in addition to kinship performance.

Policy Relevance

For policymakers, the findings of the dissertation have four important implications.

First, enhancing resource provision has been an important facet of many foreign aid initiatives. Building water treatment facilities, electric plants, and teaching sustainable agriculture practices are just a few examples of such initiatives. In providing this aid, however, governments should be aware of the potentially long-term impact it will have on state-society relations. Specifically, such aid provision may concentrate state power, disrupt local power structures, and may have varying efficacy depending on the way those resources were distributed prior to the intervention.

193 Second, the dissertation also demonstrates that Arab Gulf states would benefit from promoting accurate accounts of kinship politics, for two reasons. Firstly, these accounts would dispel Western notions that such states are merely “tribes with flags.” This dissertation has shown how kinship groups’ relationship with the state was based in historic patterns of resource access. It focuses on non-urban kinship groups but highlights the role of urban groups as well. Promoting scholarly work on these historical dynamics would help dispel common oversimplifications about the role of kinship groups within these states. Secondly, divisions between urban and kin-based groups in Arab Gulf states are often stark but need not be so. The distinctions between bedu and hadhar are often based on stereotypes with a limited basis in historical fact. While a Western researcher must respect these local narratives as valid, accurately understanding the historical origins of the government’s relation to bedu and hadhar alike would bridge historic misun-

derstandings between the groups.390 Importantly, it would strengthen national unity and promote a better understanding of the rich social traditions of kinship-based societies.

Third, the dissertation shows how kinship groups may influence the foreign policy of states. Both decision makers and academics (e.g. Putnam, 1988) know that foreign poli-

cy decisions are at least partially the product of domestic politics.391 Thus, policymakers will better understand the actions of certain states if they can appreciate the internal kin-

390 There are also examples of how historical accuracy could bridge gaps in Western societies between different racial, religious, and national communities.

391 See: Robert D. Putnam, “Diplomacy and Domestic Politics: the Logic of Two-Level Games,” In- ternational Organization 42 no. 3 (Summer 1988): 427-460.

194 ship politics motivating these decisions. For example, what might appear to be a sectarian political move by a certain government may actually be a response to pressure from an influential family within the state with sectarian interests. Knowing a state’s motiva- tions is important for preventing a miscalculation and for influencing desirable outcomes with regards to that state’s role in the international arena. Given that such states are often in areas where Western powers have security and economic interests, accurate political analysis has long term impacts that should not be underestimated.

Finally, understanding kinship on its own terms allows states to design the most effective policy interventions. Local tradition, kinship, and religious custom are different institutions of authority and operate in different ways. Understanding the differences between them is crucial for designing interventions relating to good governance, public health, and civil society. Kinship based wasta is related to corruption but it is not identi- cal. Appreciating these differences can allow states to design more effective policies to foster, for example, merit-based hiring practices.

Overall, the findings of this dissertation compelling evidence about the importance of kinship group and their members in state formation. The Middle East is one of many regions where European powers intervened seeking influence and power. The role of these states and the role of colonialism more broadly feature prominently in many accounts of state formation and its various facets in these regions. Given the substantial impacts Eu- ropean powers had on these regions, including the appointment of local leaders, such a

195 focus is justified. However, while acknowledging the importance of European powers, it bears remembering that these regions were neither empty or ungoverned. Rather, they were populated with local populations who governed themselves according to a complex set of rules, norms, and practices rooted in traditional kinship authority.

Throughout the long - and sometimes painful - state building process, local populations were not passive actors. On the contrary, they played an active role in shaping their own destinies, albeit within the confines of power structures imposed from the top-down. The result is a set of states in which populations were not passive victims of political forces beyond their control, but rather agents in perpetuating centuries-old systems of governance. Understanding how resource distribution affected this endurance gives scholars a better idea of how it is that such forms of governance coexist in the contemporary political system.

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