Kuwaitis With a Vote Give Voice to Democracy

On the illuminated boulevard that has been nicknamed “Democracy Street” in this oil emirate, Mohammed Rashed Hafaity is packing in the crowds at tent meetings every Tuesday and Saturday night.

More than 1,000 men in white robes wait eagerly in the open air for more than an hour to hear this veterinarian turned politician and satirist--part Pat Paulsen, part Ross Perot. They hoot and guffaw as he lampoons puffed-up government officials, corrupt bureaucrats and the voters themselves in the final weeks before Kuwait’s parliamentary elections, its second since it was liberated from Iraqi occupation in 1991.

“Please, give me your vote,” he says. “I’m sorry, but I don’t have enough money to buy it.”

Hafaity is one of 248 candidates competing for 50 parliament seats next Monday in a contest as vibrant and refreshing as it is rare for the region.

Kuwait has emerged as the Persian Gulf’s only democracy, and one of the very few states in the Arab world that can make that claim. But like the other Arab democracies in the region--Egypt, Lebanon and Jordan--it is still democracy with an asterisk.

In the case of Kuwait, women cannot vote. Neither can a significant proportion of men because of restrictive citizenship laws and a ban on voting by members of the army, police and parts of the civil service. Although criticizing the government and individuals in the royal family is OK--practically de rigueur, in fact--attacks directed at the emir, Sheik Jabbar al Ahmed al Sabah, are out of bounds.

Within those strictures, election fever has taken hold in this country of 1.7 million. Dozens of tent meetings for different hopefuls take place every night. Voters wander from one tent to another, getting face time with the candidates and grazing as they go.

Wealthy candidates host lavish free banquets: Tables groan with roasted goats, salads and pastries, and fruit wagons overflow with apples, pears, dates and figs. Other hopefuls offer no more than a cup of sweet tea or icy water, served up with free-ranging opinions.

At these meetings, criticism that might earn a resident of a neighboring state a visit from the police or a stay in jail hardly raises an eyebrow. Ministers are accused of embezzling, taking round-the-world junkets and neglecting official duties unless there are bribes involved.

In this society, “not speaking your mind would be an unnatural act,” one Western diplomat said. Debate has centered on economic and domestic issues. The recent rise in tensions with Iraq, which caused Washington to rush in additional U.S. troops and fighter planes, has rated barely a mention.

Many Kuwaitis express the view that their country is the testing ground for the Arab world.

“This small country could be a laboratory on how an Arabic, Islamic society could work in a framework of democracy,” said Saif Abdullah, a professor of political science at Kuwait University.

Analysts say much of the current enthusiasm can be traced to Kuwait’s recent history--its invasion by Iraq in 1990 and seven-month occupation until it was liberated by allied forces.

Before the war, Kuwait had become a country run by and for the pampered, its citizens made rich by oil and coddled by hundreds of thousands of imported servants. But the trauma of the occupation, during which the country’s property was looted and resistance was answered with summary executions, put a certain seriousness into Kuwaiti life.

Kuwaitis still cruise the country’s six-lane highways in Caprices, Grand Cherokees and Suburbans, eat at McDonald’s and Fuddruckers and enjoy all the luxuries that a per capita national income roughly comparable to that of the United States can provide. But now they pay more attention to their civic duties.

Every eligible Kuwaiti voter traveling abroad will board a plane to return home in time to cast a ballot next month, predicted journalist Hussein Abdul Rahman.

“Kuwait is free,” several patriotic billboards proclaim, in case anyone is wont to forget.

The closest Arab neighbors--Saudi Arabia, Qatar, Bahrain, Oman and the United Arab Emirates--are ruled by family dynasties. A few have appointed advisory councils, but none has an elected parliament.

Recently, visitors from those countries have been coming to scope out Kuwait, said a diplomat specializing in political affairs. “They enjoy the spectacle, so different from their own systems,” she said.

In a country where a married woman still cannot get a passport without her husband’s permission, a dynamic women’s suffrage movement is catching fire. Thousands of women and some men wear blue ribbons--they say the color represents harmony--to symbolize their message that nothing in the Koran forbids women from taking part in their own government.

When Lubna Abbas, a television journalist, and Khaloud Feeli, with the Kuwait News Agency, urged women to join a work stoppage Sunday to demonstrate their commitment to attaining voting rights, they were astounded by the phone calls they received.

“We were . . ,” Feeli said.

“Flooded,” Abbas said.

Both women wear Western-style clothes and speak American-accented English, but they seem to have struck a chord even among heavily veiled Islamic women here.

“We are targeting people from the most conservative to the most liberal,” Feeli said. “We want all women . . . to [be] aware not only of their political rights but their social rights too.”

Neither has any hope that women will be allowed to vote this time, but they have set as their target the 2000 elections.

But both say they are gratified that Kuwait is a country where such an effort can even be mounted.

“If we [had] been in any [other] country in the Middle East, we would have lost our jobs like this,” Abbas said, snapping her fingers.

Feeli said she took up the cause after the Iraqi invasion.

“Women played a major role in the resistance. A lot of women were raped, tortured and killed,” she said. “I don’t think their deaths and torture should be in vain. That’s part of why I’m doing this.”

In seeking the vote, women must overcome resistance from the male Islamists in parliament, who now hold half the seats. Abbas expects that number to drop after next week’s election, but other observers are not so sure.

Kuwait’s fundamentalists tend to be more moderate than religious conservatives elsewhere in the region, and not as anti-American. They receive extensive state support and serve in the government.

Kuwait first had a parliament in 1962, but its existence was tenuous at best. The emir suspended its meetings for all but four years after 1976.

After liberation, it was questionable whether the emir would submit to popular pressure to restore the legislature. With U.S. and allied coaxing, he did. Elections took place in 1992, and, despite some tense periods, the government, royal family and parliament all seem to be coexisting.

“The most interesting thing about this election is that the government is comfortable with it and the ruling family is too,” one diplomat said. “It has become part of their system.”

The report card on the first post-invasion parliament is mixed.

Western diplomats give it high marks for defining a role for itself--questioning ministers, acting as a check on major policies, investigating corruption--while avoiding destructive quarrels with the government headed by the crown prince and royal heir, Sheik Saad al Abdullah al Sabah.

But a criticism heard frequently from Kuwaitis is that lawmakers got bogged down in trivialities.

One long-running cause celebre was whether the sexes should be segregated at universities. Another debate concerned whether Islamic law should be “an” influence or “the” influence on legislation.

Parliament’s reluctance to take on more important social issues, such as youth unemployment and education, has left many people cynical, Abdullah said.

“Over 45% of the old guys are not going to win,” he predicted about the upcoming election.

Whatever the outcome, the legislature has demonstrated that Kuwait is an oasis of democracy--at least for some.

“It has its ups and downs, but at least it has proved it is here to stay,” said Abu Abwad, 41, a voter at Hafaity’s tent meeting.

He said Kuwait’s Arab neighbors envy him and his fellow citizens: “They wish they could have it too.”