Leisure Class to Working Class in Saudi Arabia
By NEIL MacFARQUHAR
Published: August 26, 2001
Correction Appended
JIDDA, Saudi Arabia— To
coax skittish young Saudis into working on an assembly line churning
out 300,000 packages of cookies a day, the managers at the National
Biscuits & Confectionery Company have learned to maintain a certain
degree of flexibility -- and patience.
One
Saudi man objected to wearing overalls, embarrassed when acquaintances
rolled down their car windows and joked that he should avoid police
patrols looking for illegal immigrants. Another disliked the job title
of laborer assigned to the roughly $6,000 per year entry job, wanting to
tell his new bride he was a technician. A third insisted that he
belonged in management, not production.
''A
Saudi who is working on our factory floor came and said 'Why can't I
become a supervisor? I graduated from college and I have a diploma and I
am working among all these people from Nepal and Bangladesh and India,'
'' said William Menzies, the New Zealander running the factory. ''That
is a case of false expectations.''
It
is an affliction that permeates Saudi society, rooted in the impression
that a country with seemingly bottomless oil reserves would always be
rich.
But
the relaxed life is slowly vanishing. Saudi Arabia faces problems more
typical of any other developing country, and young Saudis are
confronting the fact that they will have to work at real jobs -- if they
can find them.
It
is a rocky transition for a country where the generation that came of
age in the 1980's lived as if they had won the lottery. They garnered
monthly stipends from the government for enrolling in college, and upon
graduation were guaranteed a spot on the public payroll with hefty wages
and a 10 a.m. to 2 p.m. workday -- basically a license to sit at home and do nothing.
''There
is an Arabic word, itikali, when you always want someone else to do
something for you,'' said Prince Abdullah bin Faisal, 51, a nephew of
the king and chairman of the Saudi Arabian General Investment Authority.
''Like now, some Saudis don't want to take work. They became lazy,
spoiled.''
Saudi
Arabia has managed to lift virtually everyone out of poverty. But
today, even with lofty oil prices, the petrodollars do not stretch as
far, not least because they are being spread among more Saudi citizens.
The
baby boom generation spawned by 1970's oil wealth is wading into a job
market that can only generate one job for every two men. Prospects may
only get worse considering that half the 14 million Saudis are under 18.
The
tradition of ruling princes spending the country out of any problem
(and please don't bother us with any silly questions while we're doing
it) no longer functions smoothly. But no one envisions what can replace
it.
As
a result, the kingdom is an anxious country unsure how to open itself
to the world at large, especially the West. Suddenly, it must find ways
to relax its rigid traditions in order to make the economy grow. It
needs jobs for a new generation whose parents napped contentedly beside
the public trough. It needs to refurbish its once awe-inspiring
infrastructure of soaring airport terminals, freeways and phone booths
pitched in the middle of the desert. It needs power and water to reduce
rolling blackouts and water rationing.
To
some extent the future hinges on the unresolved question of how to pass
down the absolute monarchy once all 44 sons of the founder, King Abdel
Aziz al-Saud, are gone.
And
now that the royal clan numbers roughly 7,000 princes, there are also
questions about how much longer some members can treat the kingdom like
their private club.
Since
the discovery of oil, Saudi Arabia's wealth has existed in uneasy
proximity to the country's ascetic Islamic foundations. Oil wealth
allowed the Saudis to live suspended in a state of creative ambiguity.
The
secular merchant class lives in its world and the fervently religious
live in theirs. Where the interests of the two groups collide, the rules
exist in shades of gray.
The
insurance business -- suspect to the religious because they believe God
wills accidents -- dwells outside formal laws, for example, because
commerce depends on it. Women's driving, however, remains banned because
convenience does not outweigh religious opposition.
''The
thing that people overlook or don't know or pretend they don't know is
that Saudi Arabia is not an ordinary Islamic country; it is the
heartland of all Islamic countries,'' said Wahib Binzagr, 68, the
unassuming patriarch of a Jidda merchant clan. His affluence is only
noticeable in subtle ways -- like the gold studs used to close his white
robe. ''But we have to choose whether we want to be isolated or part of
the world as a whole.''
Not in Love With the Job
First, Being Hired; Second, Showing Up
Two
unusual but telling pictures appeared recently on the front page of
Saudi Arabia's main business newspaper. Each showed a young man wearing a
somewhat outlandish costume, opening car doors and helping to carry
suitcases into the Hyatt Regency Jidda. A young Saudi taking a bellboy
job here is front page news. ''The major challenge now is the growth of
the population -- you have a lot of young people growing up,'' said
Abdulrahman al-Tuwaijri, secretary general of the Supreme Economic
Council. ''You need schools, you need health care and you need jobs.''
''Saudization''
laws passed five years ago mandated gradually eliminating the need for
millions of expatriate workers. According to the law, the number of
local workers in any business had to increase five percentage points a
year, which meant that by this year one-quarter of every company's
employee roll was supposed to be Saudi.
It has not happened.
Some
employers -- banks, with marbled, air-conditioned interiors and
abbreviated hours -- exceed the new levels easily. But companies that
deploy thousands of street sweepers employ virtually no Saudis. The
National Biscuits & Confectionery plant here is considered
exemplary; it has more than 50 Saudi workers, or 11 percent, though
strict adherence to the 25 percent would require 110 Saudis.
''If
I hire, on an annual basis, 200 Saudis, I find at least 150 will
leave,'' sighed Muhammad H. Kadi, general manager for human resources at
the factory and its sister companies.
Hiring
Saudis is one thing; getting them to show up is another. Managers at
the cookie factory found that 18 percent of the 80 workers brought from
Nepal were absent during any given month, while more than half the
Saudis did not come to work.
Still,
managers sense that the aloof attitude toward work is receding. Per
capita income exceeded $28,000 in the early 1980's, matching that of the
United States. The population of native Saudis has nearly doubled
since, to 14 million, while the per capita income has sunk below $7,000.
Young
Saudis fear they will never attain the same standard of living as their
parents. Prospective workers no longer ask first about status issues
like the size of their office.
The
pressure of marrying young, not to mention buying a house and car, is
convincing many young Saudis that even a factory job is better than none
at all.
Ten
years ago unemployment was a nonissue. Now it is officially pegged
around 18 percent, and is probably much higher among recent graduates.
The
picture is not likely to improve. An estimated 100,000 young men enter
the labor force each year while the public and private sectors generate
about 50,000 jobs.
''It
won't be long before this goes from being a concern to being a major
problem,'' said Brad Bourland, chief economist for the Saudi American
Bank.
The
strain already shows. When the military college in Riyadh advertised 10
jobs last year, several prospective applicants were injured in the
melee that resulted when more than 1,000 people showed up.
And
this is even before the kingdom considers broadening job opportunities
for women. Aside from the ban on women driving cars, the obstacles to
hiring women in places like factories are considerable. The legal
separation of the sexes mandates an entire separate production line,
separate entrances and other facilities. For the moment only a small
percentage of educated women work outside the home, mostly in medicine
and education. But like their male counterparts, many women crave
greater opportunity.
Officials remain sanguine for now.
''We
don't, in the government of Saudi Arabia, admit there is unemployment,
basically because there are the jobs,'' said Prince Sultan bin Salman,
who is in charge of creating a tourism industry. ''There are six or
seven million expatriates working in the kingdom. Many of those jobs can
be done by Saudis.''
An Aging System
Dirty Secret Lurks Behind the Fable
Jidda,
the city that styles itself as the bride of the Red Sea, harbors an
extremely dirty secret. A toxic sea of raw sewage pumped from the city's
septic tanks festers just inland, fed daily by at least 1,000 trucks
dumping an additional 50,000 cubic meters of sewage. (About 20
Olympic-size swimming pools each day.) The fouled water then seeps into
precious aquifers.
The
fact that three-quarters of Jidda, a cosmopolitan port of some three
million people, lacks a sewage system is merely the most pungent of
Saudi Arabia's shortcomings.
The
kingdom is rapidly outstripping the fabled infrastructure it bought
with oil largess. The highways are still phenomenal, but the water,
power and telephone systems all show their age. Big cities like Riyadh
and Jidda endure rolling blackouts and water rationing, especially
during peak summer demand when desert temperatures often hover around
109 degrees Fahrenheit.
''The
economy can't grow enough anymore just by dumping all the oil revenue
into it,'' said Mr. Bourland of the Saudi American Bank. ''It is not
enough money to fuel growth for an economy of more than 20 million
people.'' Ibrahim A. al-Assaf, the finance minister, says that Saudi
Arabia needs to spend $100 billion in the next 15 years to keep up with
electricity demand, and that water treatment needs $27 billion in the
next few years.
To
obtain overseas investment, the kingdom is using the leverage of its
oil reserves and its natural gas deposits, considered fourth in the
world behind Russia, Iran and Qatar. A gas deal signed this summer will
reopen the country to foreign oil companies despite fierce opposition
from the domestic oil giant, Aramco.
Eight
companies will explore for gas on the condition that they spend part of
their initial $20 billion investment on building plants for
desalination and electricity.
Beyond
that, Mr. Assaf, the finance minister, and other leading Saudi economic
officials stress that Saudi Arabia intends to overhaul its entire
economy with new foreign investment laws in the works, new tax laws, a
new capital-markets law, new commercial laws and at least a stated goal
of joining the World Trade Organization.
Joining
the W.T.O., the finance minister said, would give Saudi Arabia the seat
at the international trade table it deserves as an economic player.
Two
months ago import tariffs were lowered to 5 percent from 12 percent,
and foreigners are now allowed to own property outside the holy cities
of Mecca and Medina. Saudi Arabia also hopes to expand its economy by
creating a tourism industry and becoming a manufacturing hub for the
region.
Many Saudis, however, find the kingdom long on reform announcements and short on bricks-and-mortar achievements.
Saudis
and foreign investors alike bemoan the country's legendary sluggishness
and protectionist habits. The trumpeted changes to lure foreign
investors came with a long list of areas closed to non-Saudis. Called
the Negative List, it includes oil exploration and production, wholesale
and retail trade, printing, transport, fishing and some medical
services. The finance minister calls it temporary. To the Saudi business
community, the best opening for change is the possibility of joining
the World Trade Organization, nudging the kingdom toward the kind of
financial transparency it has long avoided. Saudi law, for example, is
drawn solely from the Koran and the Hadith, the practices of the prophet
Muhammad. Although there is wide latitude for interpretation,
principles developed in the 7th century are sometimes in conflict with
21st-century needs. Take mortgages, for example. In the late 1970's, any
Saudi could get an interest-free, $80,000 housing loan from the
government in days. The amount remains the same, yet the waiting list
now stretches 10 years.
The
growing population craves housing, however, and home building could
provide an economic lift. But Islam forbids interest, making mortgages
difficult.
In
addition, the religious establishment, which dominates the legal
system, has a knack for propagating random edicts that can abruptly
destroy any venture. For example, Pokémon, the children's game, became
the target of a ban this year because it was said to encourage
un-Islamic behavior like gambling, and was somehow considered Zionist to
boot. It was whisked off store shelves, and the manufacturer had no
means of redress.
Royals and Citizens
On the Lookout For Fresh Leadership
In
the 1930's, King Abdel Aziz kept the treasury of his newly unified
kingdom in wooden boxes, calling for bags of coins to dispense as
needed. Many Saudis feel that the al-Saud rulers still treat the
treasury that way, except now an estimated 7,000 royal princes camp at
the front of the line.
''A lot of them have the mentality of 'I own this country and you are here to serve me,' '' said one Saudi economist.
During
the oil boom years, the tacit understanding was that the government
would pay for everything and the people would not ask questions. Now, an
increasingly educated population surveys a country hobbled by its
isolation, yet unable to make the far-reaching changes needed because of
a certain stagnation at the top. ''They don't understand the concept of
giving people their rights; we are their subjects,'' said an
American-trained Saudi lawyer.
Crown
Prince Abdullah, effectively running the kingdom for five years because
King Fahd has been ill, has pushed to open the country by letting in
foreign oil companies again and lowering barriers to foreign investment.
But he can only take matters so far, since he is not yet king and is 77
years old. What's more, succession is complex. Just how Saudi Arabia
will change depends on who will run the country.
Succession
does not seem a major concern to most Saudis, but some worry about the
kingdom's lineup of aging monarchs at the very moment it needs
energetic, worldly leaders. King Abdel Aziz established the system of
inheritance according to age and family consensus in the hope of
avoiding fratricide. The one rule is that any king must be his direct
descendant. King Fahd is the fourth son to hold the throne since King
Abdel Aziz died in 1953. More than 20 other sons survive from among his
22 marriages.
There is no doubt that the proliferation of princes grates among the professional classes.
A
waiter glides up to a senior government official settling onto a couch
in a hotel lobby to tell him that it is permanently reserved for a local
prince. ''Another prince?'' the official snapped, before regaining his
composure. ''Please don't quote me on that,'' he said to a reporter.
But
to some the unhurried system of succession is delaying decisions by
senior princes who worry that one mistake might hurt their standing. In
addition, they sometimes appear to be creating personal fiefdoms with an
interlocking network of personal loyalties.
Prince
Abdullah used to run the national guard, a job now held by one of his
sons. The defense minister, Prince Sultan, made one son, Prince Khalid
-- former commander of the Persian Gulf war forces -- his deputy. The
same holds true for Prince Nayef, the interior minister, who at 65 is
considered third or fourth in line.
But
royals deny that anything is preordained. ''There is no acquired right
in this issue and there will not be any,'' Prince Nayef said in a rare
interview. ''I want to stress that they were chosen as normal citizens,
not as members of the royal family and the sons of this one or that
one.''
With
Abdel Aziz's sons dying off, Prince Nayef said, the move to the next
generation could come either through a family vote or by a future king
picking a member of the next generation as crown prince.
Educated
Saudis would prefer a more formal system of government. One reason
business leaders back World Trade Organization membership, for example,
is that they hope it will force the country to eliminate whimsical
rulings. (And royal whim is one reason no Saudis want to be quoted by
name when discussing their rulers.) Having one-quarter of the world's
oil reserves has always allowed them to make their own rules.
''Money
is spent on palaces, not think tanks; we have 300 palaces in Jidda
alone,'' said a former member of the 120-seat Consultative Council,
which the king appoints. It was designed to give greater public
participation in decision making, but the king sways the agenda. ''We
need to clarify who owns the country, the people or the king,'' he
added.
For
the moment, nobody knows what awaits when Saudis earning a living
surely start wondering aloud about the way they are governed. Members of
the younger generation are prone to want change.
One indication of that came at 11 p.m.
on a steamy summer weekend, during rush hour along the wide pedestrian
quay circling the marina of Durrat Al-Arrus, a Red Sea beach resort town
north of Jidda.
Saudi
young men, some bristling out of their muscle shirts, sauntered past
young women wearing stretch jeans. A few women dared let their hair
float free; occasionally they even broke Saudi law by driving.
The
scene would be tame elsewhere, but it is shockingly risqué for
keep-it-under-a-robe Saudi Arabia. A young man with a ponytail said the
resort felt like a foreign country. He and his friends said they wanted
changes but did not want Saudi Arabia to ape the West. They shook their
heads no when asked if they wanted someplace to dance in Durrat
al-Arrus, for example. They abhor the idea of their sisters mingling
with men who are strangers. But they do seek a greater sense of personal
freedom.
''Ten
years ago we really used to suffer, but in another 20, a lot of things
will change,'' said the young man with the ponytail. The others around
him all nodded.
The Perils of Plenty
Articles
in this series are examining how sudden wealth from natural resources
can bring unexpected problems for countries struggling to come out of
poverty. The first article, last May, looked at whether Chad can escape
the corruption often associated with oil riches. Later articles will
look at other problems as political and economic systems elsewhere react
to newfound wealth.
Photos:
Abdel Aziz al-Saud, founding monarch of Saudi Arabia, left, in a
photograph from 1934. Young Saudi men in the Red Sea resort of Durrat
al-Arrus, north of Jidda. A new generation of Saudis would like changes,
but not necessarily to be just like the West. (Mahmoud Mahmoud/Agence
France-Presse); (Associated Press)(pg. 4) Chart: ''When the Party Is
Over'' Saudi Arabia is adjusting to an era of greater stringency. Even
at a time of reasonably high oil prices, petrodollars do not stretch as
far as before, and many young Saudis are taking jobs they would not have
accepted a few years ago. Chart shows oil revenue trends with total
revenue and revenue from oil from 1974 to 1999. Chart shows gross
domestic product from 1975 through 2001. Chart shows midyear population
for 2000 and measures population in thousands. No data available for
1991 (Sources: Ministry of Finance and National Economy, SAMA's annual
reports, World Bank, Embassy of the United States of America in Saudi
Arabia, U.S. Census Bureau, International Data Base)(pg. 4) Map of Saudi
Arabia highlighting Jidda: In Jidda, Saudis have joined expatriates in
workplaces from factories to hotels. (pg. 4)
Correction: August 29, 2001, Wednesday A front-page article on Sunday
about growing unemployment and other social changes in Saudi Arabia
misstated the country's population. It is 22 million, not 14 million.
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