Introduction
Another institutionalized practice, charitable giving in the petro-monarchies of the Gulf offers a window into the practice of politics and state–society relations. As these are Muslim societies, people are expected to share their wealth and give charity (zakat and ṣadaqa) regularly, to show their devotion to God by attending to the community’s welfare and assisting those in need. Thus, examining this practice can illustrate how even secular objectives such as gaining recognition, building community and improving social welfare are advanced. It can also elucidate ways in which Islam is invoked and religious edicts are revised to facilitate meeting such objectives.
Gulf monarchies’ giving is said to be substantial, although reliable data are lacking.Footnote 1 It is noted repeatedly, in fact, that governments do not publish all that they give bilaterally. And until recently, published figures on the size and sources of revenues, the extent of giving and the size and destination of donations by numerous charitable organizations were said to be incomplete, imprecise or unreliable. Insofar as individual giving is concerned, the challenge of conducting surveys effectively results in the absence of hard data.
Charitable giving is extended in a variety of ways and engages ruling families, governmental and non-governmental organizations, and private citizens. Moreover, it is actively promoted by ruling elites, anxious for both the symbolic capital it confers upon them as devotees of the faith and contributions of material support for social welfare from societal actors. As they encourage charitable giving among their subjects, these regimes at times employ a two-pronged rhetoric that identifies it, first, with Islamic doctrine, and second, with nation-building through social solidarity (taḍāmun ijtimāʿī) (LeRenard Reference Le Renard2008, 148). Some go further by showcasing their own – that is, the ruler’s or key family member’s benevolence. For example, in 2013, the Emir of Kuwait made a very public, personal contribution of $300 million to Syrian refugees (Stafford Reference Stafford2017, 15) and in 2017, Saudi Crown Prince Mohamed bin Salman donated SR 23 million (US$6.16 million) from his “personal expense” to assist charity societies in Riyadh.Footnote 2 No doubt, that wealth is abundant, the possibilities for broad redistribution and the enhancement of social welfare, through charitable giving and otherwise, are vast. However, that poverty persists suggests that, as with government transfers (discussed in Chapter 3), charitable giving as a poverty alleviation strategy is insufficiently effective and its principal purposes lie elsewhere.
In this chapter I examine how charity is practiced in Kuwait, Qatar, Oman and Saudi Arabia and address the following questions: Who, or rather, what kinds of entities extend(s) charity? How do they give? To whom do they give, or not give? And why do they give as they do?Footnote 3 I consider giving both at home and abroad and by different donor types: public figures and private individuals, multinational agencies, governmental and non-governmental organizations – those that are explicitly charities and those that have a charity wing; those that are identity-based and those that have no obvious agenda apart from philanthropy. I highlight several key findings, some of which confirm what is considered to be universal in the world of charity and philanthropy or have been identified elsewhere in the Middle East or by other Gulf scholars.Footnote 4 First, benevolence may be motivated not only by charitable feelings or commitment to the faith but also by political ambitions. For most donor types, providing charity, whether at home or abroad, is an important source of political (or social) capital: a means to extend influence, establish networks and gain recognition. In fact, in three of the four countries, among the most prominent charitable foundations are ones created by members of the ruling family or by major political associations or interest groups.Footnote 5 Both instrumentalize charity and social welfare for political ends: to enhance legitimacy, deepen their penetration of society, shore up political power, gain adherents and advance a particular ideology. Second, when the state intervenes in the domain of charity by, for example, declaring how or to whom entities may (or may not) give, even at times by revising religious edicts, it is transforming charitable giving into a tool for social management and social control. It may aim thereby to appease a particular social category or demarcate the boundaries of community. Third, not unlike international giving that typically prioritizes Arab and Muslim countries and communities, private giving at home appears to favor family, tribe, ethnic and confessional community.Footnote 6 With few exceptions, labor migrants, for example, are, as noted in Chapter 5, excluded from access to charity. Hence, an “ethics of care” does not extend seamlessly to those at home who are perceived as distant, socially or otherwise.Footnote 7 These findings hint at features of statecraft, as well as the social or political interests of those who give.
I begin with a cursory examination of international giving undertaken by various multinational and governmental entities and explore its purposes, methods and target populations. I then turn to practices of giving at home and abroad by different types of semi- and non-governmental donor organizations in each of the four Gulf states and highlight their distinct features. Following that, I address the matter of access to charity and offer an explanation for the exclusion of certain social categories. Next, I turn to the private citizen. I describe their giving and then outline their views on why Gulf nationals and Gulf institutions extend charity as they do. I conclude by summarizing what my analysis of charitable giving elucidates about politics in Gulf monarchies and specifically, the intertwining and instrumentalization of oil revenues and Islamic doctrine in the ruler’s project of community, nation and state.
International Giving: Multinational and Governmental Organizations
From the outset, international giving by Gulf monarchies has been a vehicle for advancing political interests. In the 1960s and early 1970s, several multilateral (aid) agencies were created with the Saudi monarchy as their driving force and with a distinctly political agenda: to combat the rising tide of secularism, leftism and republicanism in the Arab world, perceived as deeply threatening to the political authority of conservative royal families.Footnote 8 The basic strategy of these organizations was to promote Islamic identity – rather, a particular vision of Islam-- and to do so by extending (oil-financed) aid and assistance in various forms, alongside religious instruction to Muslim populations. With Crown Prince and then King Feisal of Saudi Arabia at the helm as prime mover and the kingdom as chief financier, these organizations – among them, the Muslim World League (MWL) (1962), the Organization of the Islamic Conference (OIC) (1969)Footnote 9 and the World Assembly of Muslim Youth (WAMY) (1972) – contributed vastly to the spread of religious conservatism in general and Saudi-Wahhabi doctrine in particular, and to bankrolling Saudi influence across the Muslim world.Footnote 10 During the “oil bonanza” decade (1974–84), these politico-missionary, let’s call them “daʿwist” organizations, were joined by other religiously tinged entities created with a focus on charity, humanitarian aid or development assistance.
Daʿwa, or “Missionary” Work
The Muslim World League (rābiṭa al-islamiyya al-ʿālimiyya) was the first of those organizations to combine material assistance with indoctrination and political mobilization. Since its inception and with roughly 90 percent of its funding from the Saudi government, it has been funding schools and Islamic cultural centers, building mosques and clinics, distributing religious literature, training Imams and offering scholarships to study at Saudi religious universities.Footnote 11 It has also sent missionaries to Africa and elsewhere to spread Wahhabi doctrine, and has supported salafī groups in South Asia and beyond (Commins Reference Commins2009, 152–53, 174–75). Similar in its mission to the MWL, WAMY was also created to combat various forms of secularism and promote Islamic identity by propagating Wahhabi views but with a focus on youth and, according to its secretary-general, through “development activities in the fields of education and institution-building.” It builds schools, offers scholarships and training courses and organizes summer camps.Footnote 12 Since 1988, it has also provided charity in the form of, for example, support for orphans (Bellion-Jourdan Reference Bellion-Jourdan2001, 177; Lacey Reference Lacey and Benthall2014, 49).
The first of the international Muslim charities, the International Islamic Relief Organization, Saudi Arabia (IIRO or IIROSA) was founded in 1978 with royal approval as the humanitarian arm of the MWL, thereby explicitly integrating political interests, pursued via daʿwa, with the Qurʾanic injunction to be generous and compassionate by providing relief from hardship. It was through IIROSA, in fact, that the MWL became especially active in the 1980s and 1990s, first in Afghanistan, supporting mujahidīn materially in their struggle against the Soviet-backed government and Soviet forces while “spreading their messages in refugee camps,” and then in post-Soviet Chechnya and Bosnia, combining material aid with “spiritual renewal” for the purpose of “re-Islamizing” society (Petersen Reference Petersen2012, 774; Bellion-Jourdan Reference Bellion-Jourdan2001).Footnote 13 In 1984, the International Islamic Charitable Organization (IICO) was created in Kuwait at the recommendation of Sheikh Yusuf al-Qaradawi, former member and spiritual leader of the Muslim Brotherhood. The IICO’s expressed purpose was similar to that of Christian missionary-aid societies: to combine the provision of charity, relief and development assistance with the promotion of religious identity and practice (Petersen Reference Petersen2015, 65–9; www.iico.org).
Eventually, IIROSA and the IICO, along with the MWL and WAMY were brought under the umbrella of the International Islamic Council for Daʿwa and Relief (IICDR) created at the behest of Saudi Arabia in 1988, the height of the war in Afghanistan. Its purpose was to coordinate activities, including charitable efforts of the organizations and their member states, while promoting a single vision of Islam (Benthall Reference Benthall and Bellion-Jourdan2003, 75; Bellion-Jourdan Reference Bellion-Jourdan2001, 176–77). Indeed, from the inception of these related organizations until the early 2000s, and with burgeoning oil revenues after 1973, relief in the form of material support for Muslim communities and daʿwa went hand in hand.Footnote 14 Political goals – to consolidate monarchical conservatism and absolutism while extending Saudi power and influence – couched in language about strengthening the umma in the face of external challenges, were at the forefront of their activities (Petersen Reference Petersen2015, 86).
Since the early 2000s, numerous Gulf-based entities that had been providing material assistance abroad have claimed to have modified their activities significantly in response to post-9/11 suspicions of Western powers regarding the sources of salafi-jihadi financing.Footnote 15 In an interview in 2012, the MWL’s leadership told me that the organization had cut by half its support for projects connected to religious instruction and practice. Instead, it focuses mostly on hosting conferences and promoting inter-faith and inter-cultural dialogue.Footnote 16 Nonetheless, according to Benthall (Reference Benthall2018, 9), the MWL today remains “a vehicle for Saudi influence,” while in the religious field it continues to promote a particular vision of Sunni Islam in an effort to confront both the rise of Shiʿi Iran and the attraction of “jihadi ideology.” The secretary-general of WAMY, at our meeting at its headquarters in Riyadh, insisted unprovoked that WAMY neither proselytizes nor engages with other (that is, non-Hanbali) madhāhib.Footnote 17 However, just a few years prior, other sources claimed that the organization remained explicitly engaged in daʿwa by publishing and distributing religious literature, offering classes in shariʿa, training young men to become Imams and then paying their salaries at mosques throughout the world (Commins Reference Commins2009, 192–93).
As for IIROSA, considered until 2015 to have been the most prominent charity in Saudi Arabia that worked both inside and outside the kingdom, and said to have been the world’s largest, or second largest Islamic charity in the mid-1990s (Benthall Reference Benthall2018, 2), its efforts, according to its spokespeople, no longer centered exclusively on Muslim communities and “faith-based causes” (al-Yahya Reference Valeri, Hertog, Luciani and Valeri2014, 189). Nonetheless, a perusal of its Annual Report for 2011/12 suggests that the initial focus persisted: training in Islam continued and the universalization of aid pertained solely to emergency humanitarian relief. In fact, at least four of the seven programs described in that report were geared partially, if not exclusively to Muslims and included religious content.Footnote 18 Be that as it may, the King Salman Humanitarian Aid and Relief Center (KS Relief), that was created in 2015 by the king soon after he ascended the throne, is said to enjoy a monopoly over almost all Saudi foreign humanitarian aid. By royal decree, it has become the sole vehicle through which overseas aid can be extended. What’s more, explicit religious content is absent from its programs and documentation (www.ksrelief.org; Benthall Reference Benthall2018, 1–2).
Despite some modifications in their operations, the five politico-daʿwist agencies discussed have remained closely interconnected, as indicated by their leadership structures. For example, the secretary-general of WAMY, (Saudi national) Saleh al-Wohaibi (2002–present), is on the Board of Directors of the IICO, while (Saudi national) Abdullah Naseef, currently vice chairman of WAMY, had been secretary-general of the MWL (1983–94) and secretary-general of the IICDR some years later. Indeed, Saudi-dominated transnational collaboration, along with efforts at forging ideological unity by extending “material and spiritual sustenance” were fostered decades ago. While methods may have been revised, the efforts have persisted for the sake of achieving political ends: the consolidation of monarchical autocracy in the Gulf region, strengthening the position of the Saudi state vis-à-vis other states in the Gulf and the broader Arab region, and the related diffusion of a conservative Sunni Islam.
Development Assistance
As with charitable giving, Gulf-based development assistance through institutional channels took off in earnest after the 1973/74 “oil shock” and was brought under an umbrella organization, the Coordination Group of Arab National and Regional Development Institutions (CG-ANRDI, 1975) (Momani Reference Momani and Ennis2012, 616). Of the five multilateral aid agencies created by and with a heavy presence of the Gulf monarchies, the Islamic Development Bank (IDB) is the only one with an explicit religious orientation.Footnote 19 It was created as a “specialized institution” of the OIC to promote Islamic solidarity by addressing the “economic development and social progress” of its member states and assisting “Muslim communities within non-member states” by financing approved projects in accordance with principles of the Shariʿa (Shushan Reference Shushan and Marcoux2011, 1970).Footnote 20 While its membership, composed in 2019 of fifty-seven countries with large Muslim populations, provides the IDB’s capital through their contributions, Saudi Arabia, which houses the institution and has occupied the position of president since inception, is the largest shareholder by far – at 23.5–26.5 percent (depending on the source). The other GCC states combined had been contributing roughly 40 percent of the IDB’s capital, according to one source (Lacey Reference Lacey and Benthall2014, 23), although this proportion seems to have decreased considerably in recent years.Footnote 21 Despite the dominant position of Saudi Arabia, a senior researcher at the IDB said the following: “The IDB is independent of the Government of Saudi Arabia just as the World Bank is independent of the Government of the United States.”Footnote 22 What he failed to add, however, is that, as with the World Bank, the political-ideological positions and policies of the IDB reflect those of its principal financiers.
Especially active in the domain of development assistance and part of the CG-ANRDI, bilateral organizations in several of the Gulf monarchies channel much of their governments’ foreign aid disbursements. The largest donors, the Kuwait Fund for Arab Economic Development (KFAED, 1961) and the Saudi Fund for Development (SFD, 1975), are closely connected to, if not supervised by their Ministry of Foreign Affairs or of Finance. As such, it is neither surprising nor exceptional that their aid is politicized, in one form or another (Momani Reference Momani and Ennis2012, 617–18).Footnote 23 Indeed, most, if not all major donors have (had) powerful political agendas attached to their foreign assistance.Footnote 24
Consider Kuwait, for example: Because of its perceived geopolitical vulnerability given its small size, peculiar demographic features and governance structure and the capriciousness of regional relations, regime security has been at the forefront of the ruling family’s preoccupations since independence.Footnote 25 From the outset, therefore, as Mary Ann Tetreault (Reference Tetreault1991) has elucidated, oil revenues have been instrumentalized in its foreign relations for political capital – specifically, to legitimate and consolidate the rule of the Al-Sabah. In creating the KFAED, the very first national aid agency established in a developing country (1961) and the largest and most active Arab bilateral donor agency until 2006, the purpose was to “win friends” in the neighborhood (Leichtman Reference Leichtman2017, 6–8). The regime aimed to do so, in this instance, by demonstrating a principled commitment to the normative model of Arabism despite the perceived threat that Arab nationalist currents had presented to the security of Gulf ruling families from the 1950s until, in the case of Kuwait, the early 1980s.Footnote 26
Since the 1990s, a growing proportion of Gulf aid has gone to sub-Saharan Africa, Asia and even Latin America, but the preference remains to give to Arab and Muslim majority countries, followed by Muslim communities in non-Muslim majority countries (Momani and Ennis Reference Momani and Ennis2012, 613–14).Footnote 27 Nonetheless, as with charity, to whom and how development assistance is extended is determined in response to changes in political circumstances and interests, as Cammett (Reference Cammett2014, 140–60) demonstrates with regard to welfare provision in Lebanon. Thus, post-9/11 suspicions and local concerns regarding negative publicity have caused numerous Gulf aid agencies to redirect their attention somewhat. As a former secretary-general of the MWL stated: “We need to show the world that we care about humanity, no matter who they are.”Footnote 28
Giving at Home and Abroad: Governmental, “Semi”- and Non-governmental
Across the Gulf, charitable foundations of various types abound. Often referred to as semi- or non-governmental, many of them are in fact closely connected to, if not created by members of the local ruling family, and many receive some portion of their funding and operating costs from the government.Footnote 29
While some charitable foundations specialize in a specific region and/or sector – as with the Kuwaiti NGO, ʿAwn Mubāshir (Direct Aid) that works in Africa among Muslim communities, Qatar’s Reach Out to Asia (R.O.T.A.) that supports education initiatives there, or the privately funded Qatif Charitable Society that provides services mainly to Shiʿa in Saudi Arabia’s Eastern Province – most of the larger foundations conduct similar activities, with considerable overlap and negligible collaboration among them. They support the socially disadvantaged groups recognized in Islam: orphans, widows, the poor, the sick and disabled; they dig wells and fund educational endeavors and health services. Many include an explicitly religious component, as in providing Islamic education, building mosques, preparing ʾifṭār tables during Ramadan or distributing sacrificial meat at ʿEid al-ʾAḍḥa (the Feast of Sacrifice). Some foundations respond to emergencies around the globe, while an increasing number, having adopted the language of empowerment, at times linking it discursively to the Islamic tradition, offer skill-building and job-training programs of various sorts.
In Saudi Arabia especially in Riyadh, among the largest and most visible foundations are those associated with members of the Al Saʿud or their closest associates (Le Renard Reference Le Renard2008, 144–45), while in Kuwait, they tend to be affiliated with religio-political organizations. Although variants of both features are found in Qatar, neither accurately characterizes the philanthropic landscape in Oman. Because of both the nature of absolutism in Oman, in which the sultan, and not the royal family, rules, and the country’s religious diversity in which Ibaḍi, Sunni and Shiʿa cohabit in a delicate balance, the late Sultan Qaboos was especially vigilant in preventing family members on the one hand and doctrinally defined religious movements on the other hand from gaining prominence. Since the assumption of leadership roles in institutionalized activities such as the provision of welfare can incur recognition and influence, those activities have had to remain apolitical.
In the Sultanate, the largest and best endowed charity is the Oman Charitable Organization (OCO), a public entity founded in 1996 by royal decree. Its board of directors is composed of several members of government, including, today, one Al BuSaʿid, as well as prominent members of society. A spokesperson for the organization told me in 2013 that it received about half its funding from the government and roughly 10 percent from private donations; the remainder came from returns on its investments. Of the private donations, the bulk came from Omani companies that were expected to contribute 5 percent of their net income to social works. The OCO’s activities comprise mostly relief work outside the country in coordination with international organizations, other Gulf states or local officials but also several social programs at home.Footnote 30
Royal Connections
Many of the nominally “non-governmental” foundations in Saudi Arabia that operate internationally were established by royal decree for a member of the royal family, yet they are considered to be private; among them are the Sultan bin Abdelaziz Foundation (1995), Alwaleed bin Talal Foundation/Alwaleed Philanthropies (2003/2015) and King Abdallah International Foundation for Charity and Humanitarian Deeds (2010) (al-Yahya Reference Valeri, Hertog, Luciani and Valeri2014, 180). One of the most visible of this type of philanthropic organization is the King Faisal Foundation (1976), established by the late king’s children as waqf at the time of his death. While historically it built schools, libraries, hospitals and mosques, today it focuses primarily on supporting education, providing scholarships and funding research inside the country. Although created from the estate of a public figure whose wealth derived, in large measure, from the oil-infused public purse, the foundation claims to be fully private: It was created by “private” citizens, receives no funding from the government and cannot request donations from the public, although anyone can donate privately.Footnote 31
In her early studies of different forms of institutionalized charity in Saudi Arabia, Nora Derbal (Reference Derbal2011, 2014) explains that all not-for-profit philanthropic institutions, whether charity foundations (muʾassasāt khairiyya) or welfare associations (jamaʿiyyāt khairiyya), must be registered with the Ministry of Social Affairs (MoSA). However, organizations established by royal decree and financed from the assets of the founder, like the King Faisal Foundation, enjoy somewhat greater autonomy than the far more numerous welfare associations that do receive government funding and must follow MoSA’s rules and regulations, including submitting all programs and procedures for its approval. Given its responsibility for supervising and evaluating such institutions engaged in welfare provision, MoSA enjoys considerable powers: among them, to veto programs, refuse particular board members, define eligible recipients of services, etc. (Derbal Reference Derbal2011, 48–50). However, Derbal (Reference Derbal2022, 27–8) notes that since the issue by royal decree of Saudi Arabia’s NGO law in December 2015, welfare associations are no longer referred to as such but rather as NGOs (jamaʿiyyāt ahliyya). Nonetheless, they remain under the authority of the responsible ministry and are required to submit to new regulations and more rigorous oversight (270–73).Footnote 32 As Caroline Montagu (Reference Montagu2010) indicated in her study of the voluntary sector in Saudi Arabia, the royal family’s efforts “reflect its concerns to control what could be a parallel power structure and threat” (77). No doubt, stripping these associations of their designation as welfare providers while expanding their monitoring by the state suggests that despite the rhetoric about liberalization under the kingdom’s “Vision 2030,” in fact the reins of power and authority have been tightened and avenues toward influence-gathering, constricted. The ruler alone is to be recognized as attending to the public good (maṣlaḥa ʿamma) – in this case, through the provision of welfare.
Saudi royals are prominent in several of what had sometimes been referred to as “non-governmental” charitable associations, if not as founding members or patrons, then as board members. As LeRenard (Reference Le Renard2008, 150–52) notes, involvement in the charity sector is one of the principal roles of Saudi princesses. Moreover, their engagement is thought to be mutually beneficial. On the one hand, at least until the creation of the NGO law, it practically guaranteed the association’s approval by the MoSA and may have lessened the ministry’s oversight somewhat; it attracted important donations from private individuals, banks and companies; it improved networking possibilities and therefore, access to resources.Footnote 33 On the other hand, the participation of royals enhances the family’s visibility and legitimacy. Royals appear intimately connected to civil society and responsive to its various needs; thus, they are associated with compassion and care. In these ways, they gain allegiance from the population while discreetly bolstering their monitoring of society.
The Al-Wafaʾ and the Al-Nahda Women’s Philanthropic Societies, that focus exclusively on poor women, were created in the 1960s. They are headed by Princesses Latifa and Sara, respectively, both daughters of the late King Faisal but from different mothers. They receive funding from the government annually and donations from private enterprises, prominent individuals and other private citizens. The two foundations cooperate with each other insofar as they divide the poor neighborhoods of Riyadh between them. In their designated areas, they provide a variety of similar services to women and their children (LeRenard Reference Le Renard2008, 146–47).Footnote 34 Beyond that, Al-Wafaʾ, for example, takes charge of individuals referred by the public hospital who travel to Riyadh for hospitalization and require lodging prior to and following their medical procedures. According to my interlocutors, the building in which these individuals are housed in Riyadh was provided gratis to the organization by a prominent donor – whose identity they did not share – who, at the end of each year, reimbursed Al-Wafaʾ for all that it had spent on this particular service.Footnote 35 Coincidentally, it was announced one year later (April 2013) that the Alwaleed bin Talal Foundation had made an important donation in kind to Al-Wafaʾ’s patient lodging units in Riyadh.Footnote 36 To be sure, the family connection can make a big difference: royals support royals, especially when there is no competition between them.
Among its various activities at the time I visited, al-Wafaʾ ran a center for abused women and girls. However, it took in only those who had been referred by the Ministry of Interior. It would not provide sanctuary or assistance to an abused person from outside an official channel. Thus, its attachment to, endorsement of and collaboration with the Saudi government, as well as with other royals, was incontrovertible. In practice, therefore, Al-Wafaʾ is neither truly private, nor independent.Footnote 37 Emblematic of what Derbal (Reference Derbal, Lacey and Benthall2014, 163) has referred to as the “intense entanglement not only of individual members of the royal family, but also that of the Saudi state with private charities,” “loyalist” charities such as al-Wafaʾ actively uphold the national project of the state while providing another avenue for its infiltration of society.
In Jordan, an Arab monarchy outside the Gulf, a somewhat similar institution can be found, as described by Jung and Petersen (Reference Jung and Petersen2014, 293). Originally called Queen Alia Social Welfare Fund, JOHUD (Jordanian Hashemite Fund for Human Development) was created in 1977 by royal decree but registered as private; it receives funding from several sources, including government ministries. It has been led, since its inception, by Princess Basma bint Talal, sister of the late King Hussein and paternal aunt of King Abdallah II. Currently, one of her daughters is the executive director. According to its website, “JOHUD aims to ensure that its work is aligned with national strategies and contributes to poverty alleviation.”Footnote 38
In Qatar, most of the prominent charitable foundations were established as awqāf from the fortunes and in the names of members of the ruling al-Thani family – Sheikhs ʿEid bin Mohamed, Jassim bin Jabor, Thani bin Abdallah and Faisal bin Jassem – by their heirs. Some of these, like the salafī-leaning ʿEid bin Mohamed al-Thani Foundation, follow a particular religious orientation without being formally part of a politico-religious institution.Footnote 39 While these foundations are financially dependent upon their endowments, all but one rely increasingly upon private donations; at times, they solicit contributions through fundraising efforts for humanitarian crises.Footnote 40 Although their activities include assisting local needy families and funding projects abroad, it is said that more than 75 percent of Qatari charity goes outside the country since, in the words of a Qatari consultant to charities, “there are not many things to do here.”Footnote 41 Despite their royal pedigree and branding, these establishments are considered to be private. No doubt, they enjoy close relations with the government (Mohamed Reference Mohamed, Lacey and Benthall2014, 263).
In contrast, Qatar Charity, one of the oldest and largest charities in the country, was not created by royals. With an elected board and hired general-manager, it is regarded as independent even though its chairman, since 2002, has been an al-Thani. It is referred to as a “faith-driven organization” and said to “lean toward the Muslim Brotherhood.”Footnote 42 However, like the ʿEid Foundation, among other charities in Qatar, its religious orientation is not “formalized through an institutional structure” (Freer Reference Freer2018, 42). Neither the Brotherhood nor Salafi formations have an institutional presence in Qatar, as they do in Kuwait. While financially dependent upon donations, Qatar Charity, like all registered charities, as distinct from awqāf, receives an annual sum from the government. Moreover, it “absorbs some al-Thani initiatives”; that is to say, when the royal family wants to contribute to an effort abroad, it may choose to do so through Qatar Charity.Footnote 43
One of a kind at home, Qatar Foundation (QF) comprises numerous sub-organizations, including charitable initiatives. Registered as a non-governmental organization, it was created as waqf in 1995 by the then-ruling emir, Shaykh Hamad bin Khalifa al-Thani, with the addition of public funds and land granted by the government.Footnote 44 His wife, Sheikha Moza, chairs the foundation; in addition to herself, three of their children are on the Board of Trustees and one on the Board of Directors (www.qf.org.qa). Reach Out to Asia (R.O.T.A.), a sub-organization and charitable initiative of the foundation, founded in 2005, is chaired by their daughter, Sheikha Myassa. Remarkably, Qatar Foundation is touted as “a private foundation for public purposes” even though it has been financed, both directly and indirectly, from the public purse. In its peculiarly public-private, “loyalist” nature, Qatar Foundation appears somewhat similar to the Syrian Trust for Development, an entity comprised of several government-created but supposedly non-governmental organizations, a number of which were initiated by Asmaʾ al-Assad, the wife of President Bashar al-Assad (Ruiz de Alvira Reference Ruiz De Elvira and Zintl2014, 334–40). With the resources to monopolize activities in the educational, cultural and philanthropic spheres, Qatar Foundation, like “The Trust,” is a vehicle for “reproducing patterns of authoritarian rule” while enhancing the public image of regime figures (Ruiz de Alvira Reference Ruiz De Elvira and Zintl2014, 335). To be sure, QF is the darling of the most powerful branch of the ruling family, providing it with tremendous visibility – indeed, a tentacular presence.
The involvement of royals, whether directly or indirectly, combined with the branding of foundations with their name, is noteworthy for the ubiquity and authority it signals, despite their being advertised as private (non-governmental) or even semi-private establishments. In the case of Qatar, consider that until the oil price downturn that began mid-2014, more than 75 percent of government revenues derived from oil and gas,Footnote 45 common property resources meant to be overseen by the leadership for the benefit of the community. In other words, the former emir established the Qatar Foundation from his “private” wealth, accrued in large measure from hydrocarbon exports (and related investments), and supplemented from the budget of the government, which he controlled at that time as monarch and head of state. What ensues, as Le Renard (Reference Le Renard2008) identified in Saudi Arabia, is a pernicious mixing of and calculated confusion between public and private. Royals take from what belongs to the people and invest those resources in the creation of entities that they oversee and that carry their name. By colonizing the charity field in this manner, they shore up a fabricated image of themselves as magnanimous benefactors and benevolent devotees of the faith, thereby bolstering their legitimation, both political and religious, and commanding allegiance. In fact, they have simply transformed public resources into private, or rather royal resources, and exploit them in ways that deepen their penetration of society, hence their power and domination.
Doctrinal Connections
Unlike in Qatar and Saudi Arabia, charities in Kuwait are not connected to the ruling family. Rather, the most prominent charities, excluding the Red Crescent Society, adhere to one or another religious tendency that may or may not be affiliated with a political movement.Footnote 46 In effect, the Al-Sabah have deliberately ceded this domain to the religious field and its promotion of social conservatism while still retaining authority over Islamist actors. They have done so for reasons having to do with the regime’s vulnerabilities but also the peculiar political system that combines dynastic authoritarianism with parliamentarism, hence the need to make some concessions to popular forces. In this regard, it is important to recall that during the seven-month-long Iraqi invasion and occupation of the emirate (2 August 1990–25 February 1991), the Muslim Brotherhood became a “major political force.” With the flight of the royal family, it organized resistance and assumed responsibility for social welfare (Freer Reference Freer2018, 78–81) while a prominent member of the Salafi movement, Ahmed al-Baqir, led the popular government in Kuwait that negotiated with the government in exile (Azoulay Reference Azoulay, Hertog, Luciani and Valeri2013, 87). In fact, the Al-Sabah have both empowered and co-opted the Islamists. They have done so in an effort to protect themselves and secure their rule. In the 1970s and 1980s, for example, the royal family used the Brotherhood as a counterweight to the Arab nationalists, offering them ministries, approving Islamic banking and extending different types of support (Freer Reference Freer2018, 31). Then, by providing financial assistance for the creation in the 1980s of a ṣalafī charity, they encouraged the Kuwaiti Salafi movement to engage more fully domestically so that it would compete with the Brotherhood (Pall Reference Pall2020, 16). Thus, the regime could control these movements more effectively, while allowing them some influence. Nonetheless, political power remains concentrated in the hands of the emir.
Jamaʿiyyāt al-Islaḥ al-Ijtimāʿi (Society for Social Reform) and Jamaʿiyyāt Ihyaʾ al-Turāth al-Islāmī (Society for the Revival of Islamic Heritage) belong to Kuwait’s Muslim Brotherhood (al-haraka al-dustūriyya al-islāmiyya – Islamic Constitutional Movement [ICM or HADAS]) and Salafī movement (al-Tajammʿu al-Salafī al-Islāmī – Salafi Islamic Gathering), respectively. Both are active in Kuwaiti politics and typically hold seats in Parliament. Both associations are engaged in vast philanthropic activities at home but especially abroad – in the Middle East, Africa and Asia and in countries in crisis (e.g., Afghanistan and Bosnia in the 1990s, Syria since 2012). According to their representatives, their work is funded principally by donations from their adherents among Kuwaiti nationals and residents. Both are explicit that an important goal is to “preserve Islamic culture” wherever there is a Muslim community.Footnote 47
Another charitable organization with a ṣalafī orientation, ʿAwn Mubāshir (Direct Aid) was created some thirty years ago by Abdelrahman al-Sumeit, a Kuwaiti physician and ʿālim. Formerly called Africa Muslims Committee and reliant upon private donations and regular contributions from the government, the organization digs wells and builds schools, clinics and training centers in Africa. It also builds mosques, teaches Arabic and Islam and helps African Muslims make the pilgrimage. According to one of its representatives, “where there are Muslims, we work.” Furthermore, “we are involved in helping Muslims be better Muslims” and so, “daʿwa is part of our work.”Footnote 48
While Jamaʿiyyāt al-Iṣlāḥ insists that recipients of their aid do not have to be Muslims, da’wa is central to the mission of the three associations. According to a member of HADAS, “most charities in Kuwait have a daʿwa component because in Islam you need to both encourage daʿwa and help people live the best way as Muslims … Much of the charity we give is about supporting Muslims in their way of life.”Footnote 49 In short, these three philanthropies combine the provision of assistance with efforts to strengthen the ranks of the Muslim community and especially, of their particular orientation within Islam.
To be sure, the daʿwa of the Brotherhood is distinct from that of the Salafī and certainly of the Shiʿa. In this regard, it is noteworthy that during my meeting at Jamaʿiyyāt al-Iṣlāḥ the representative mentioned Iran’s charitable work, referring to the Islamic Republic as “a major competitor in Africa.” He expressed concern about how Kuwaiti Shiʿa, who constitute roughly 35 percent of the citizen population, extend charity: “I’m convinced their money goes to initiatives supported by Iran and to strengthening Shiʿi networks (in West Africa).”Footnote 50 In short, charitable giving, as described, is intimately connected to politics and the struggle to gain adherents.
“Unaffiliated” Charity
Across the region, there are numerous charitable organizations that are linked neither to royal families, nor to religious tendencies or religio-political movements. To take but one example, in Oman, Dar al-Iʿṭāʾ is a well-known local charity. It was created in 2002 by a group of women married to Omani businessmen and became an official organization in 2006. Its revenues come exclusively from private sources, including companies, via a host of donation strategies and fundraising events. Its ambitions and capabilities are relatively modest, and its activities are confined to Muscat.Footnote 51
Distinct in their status as “unaffiliated,” prominent business families, like Bahwan in Oman and Al-Rajhi and Olayan in Saudi Arabia, who enjoy clientelistic relations with the regime, are engaged in broad-based philanthropic activities, while others, like the Sultan family in Kuwait, have created issue-specific entities.Footnote 52 Of the former, Azoulay (Reference Azoulay, Hertog, Luciani and Valeri2013, 90–7) discusses the instrumentalization of charitable activities by relatively new Shiʿi merchant families in Kuwait. By donating to all segments of the diverse Shiʿi community, families like that of Jawaad Bukhamseen (of Bukhamseen Holding), who are close to the Al-Sabah, may use charity to “buy social prestige” among the Shiʿa. Their aim is to play the role of intermediary between the regime and the community. In effect, Azoulay argues, “they represent the interests of their patron” (93).
Who’s In, Who’s Out? The Politics of Exclusion
In the four countries, many charities extend assistance to long-term residents who do not carry the local citizenship. In fact, a representative of Al-Wafaʾ Women’s Philanthropic Society claimed that 20–25 percent of those who request help from them are non-Saudi citizens with a residence permit.Footnote 53 However, except for very few cases, charities tend not to help poor labor migrants at home apart from offering ifṭār during Ramadan and Friday meals at some mosques.Footnote 54 Recall the claim of a Qatari national that “there are not many things to do here”Footnote 55 – and this despite the presence of vast numbers of indigent foreign laborers, often living in conditions of precarity.
One charity in Qatar and one in Oman told me that, in fact, they do give to laborers but not systematically and certainly without publicizing. The representative of the Omani charity elaborated thus: “Once you open that door, it will never close.”Footnote 56 This rationalization, that obliquely acknowledges the need, was echoed, almost verbatim, by a representative of al-Iṣlaḥ (Kuwait): “If we open the door to helping the more than 1 million foreign laborers, our work would be insurmountable.”Footnote 57 In contrast, “loyalist” Saudi charities, when asked about the exclusion, inclined toward a legalistic explanation: According to Ministry of Labor stipulations, the kafīl (sponsor) is supposed to take care of their workers. Apart from the kafīl, the worker’s embassy is responsible for them.Footnote 58 Surely, the response of an ʿālim with the Omani Ministry of Awqāf and Islamic Affairs was remarkable: “We already do a lot for them: we allow them to come here and work.”Footnote 59
A more compelling explanation relates, as I suggested in Chapter 5, to the prevailing sense of community. In this regard, an Omani interlocutor noted that migrants’ exclusion is “merely a matter of priorities”: that, “charity begins at home.”Footnote 60 He failed to add that for many, home is also where charity ends. As philanthropic organizations in these Gulf states routinely extend material support to causes and crises beyond their borders – for example, to Palestinian programs for decades, Syrians since 2012, victims of the 2004 tsunami in Southeast Asia and of other natural disasters since then – that they ignore needy foreigners in their midst, rendering them virtually invisible, suggests that takāful (solidarity) at home is a circumscribed notion that applies chiefly, if not solely to the community that matters. And compassion is not extended to those for whom one feels no obligation precisely because they are external to that privileged group.Footnote 61 No doubt, the tendency to prioritize one’s own is universal, and the disadvantaged are more-or-less invisible everywhere. Nonetheless, the invisibility of the disadvantaged in Gulf monarchies is especially striking given the vast unearned wealth there from which they are excluded.Footnote 62
While exceptions do exist, they are few. Nora Derbal (Reference Derbal2022, 213–14) refers to two informal food distribution initiatives, “Half a Date” and “Feed the Need,” which sprung up in Riyadh and Jeddah in 2013 and 2015, respectively, and disappeared just a few years later. They targeted South Asian laborers on the one hand, and workers and cleaners on the other. The founders and organizers remained anonymous and mobilized volunteers and donors via social media. By 2018, Derbal points out, the regime was openly opposed to the extension of even informal assistance to non-Saudis.
In my own work in the four Gulf countries, I encountered only three charitable initiatives, created by nationals, for the foreign community specifically.Footnote 63 Two of them, Lajnat al-Taʿarīf b’il-Islam (Islam Presentation Society) in Kuwait City and ḍyūf Qatar (Qatar’s Guests) in Doha, targeted non-Muslims, offering Arabic language instruction, Islamic education and conversion. While they couched their activities in philanthropic sentiments, daʿwa for the purpose of expanding the Muslim community was what motivated them.Footnote 64 The only program that, at least until summer 2015, explicitly addressed the material conditions of migrants was, like ḍyūf Qatar, part of the salafī-directed, Eid bin Mohammed al-Thani Charity Foundation. With the remarkable name, ḥafiẓ al-niʿma (Preserve Grace), its volunteers collect leftover food from hotels and private dinners in Doha and distribute in industrial zones where the poorest workers live.Footnote 65 They also distribute used clothing at construction sites. Moreover, a program officer mentioned to me, parenthetically, that preachers from D̩yūf Qatar go to industrial zones following distributions to encourage conversion.Footnote 66 Alas, there is “no free lunch”: Charity and proselytism often go hand in hand.Footnote 67
Individual Giving
Recall that there are two types of individual giving in Islam: obligatory zakat – a tax of 2.5 percent levied on the equivalent of “capital gains,” in one’s possession for at least one yearFootnote 68 – and elective ṣadaqa. In principle, zakat contributions are transferred to the public treasury (beyt al-māl) or its equivalent and then distributed among the poor, needy and other Qurʾanically defined appropriate recipients. Sadaqa is given to whomever, however, and in whatever amounts the donor chooses. Among Muslim countries today, there is little uniformity in the role the state plays as collector and distributor of zakat. Furthermore, there is no consensus about whether zakat payment should be voluntary or obligatory, or even the forms of wealth that are “zakatable” (Kahf Reference Kahf1989; Kuran Reference Kuran, Bonner, Ener and Singer2003, 277–83; May Reference Matthiesen2013).
In Oman and Qatar, there is no formal, government-enforced collection of zakat; giving, in whatever form, is left to the individual. In Kuwait and Saudi Arabia, in contrast, governments impose and collect zakat from citizen-owned companies in the former and citizen- and GCC-owned companies in the latter.Footnote 69 In Saudi Arabia, funds are collected by the Ministry of Finance and transferred, in full or in part, to the MoSA/MoLSD for redistribution for the purpose of poverty alleviation. Zakat funds thus contribute to social security payments to those considered to be among the neediest Saudis, to allocations to charitable associations and to unemployment programs (LeRenard Reference Le Renard2008, 142–43, 146; Derbal Reference Derbal2022, 80).
In Kuwait, it was only in 2006 that formal collection of zakat was imposed on companies, but interestingly, the mandatory 2.5 percent was reduced to 1 percent. Apparently, many had complained that the former was too onerous, while others suggested that since the country had a Shiʿi population who were required to pay khumsFootnote 70 to their religious leaders, it was preferable to reduce the obligatory contribution to the state and trust that each company would independently pay the remainder to an entity or initiative of its choosing.Footnote 71 Furthermore, of that 1 percent zakat payment, 0.5 percent goes into the government fund that subsidizes the salaries of private sector employees.Footnote 72 It is also worth noting that in Saudi Arabia until 2016 and the gradual imposition of the “White Land Tax Regulation, 2015,”Footnote 73 those extensive, undeveloped properties owned privately by wealthy Saudis (referred to in Chapter 3) were not subject to zakat. Remarkably, regime ʿulama maintained that they constituted “hidden wealth” (amwāl al-bāṭina), which, according to several schools of Islamic jurisprudence, is exempt from zakat.Footnote 74 That the Kuwaiti and Saudi governments endorsed such respective claims, and in so doing essentially revised a religious edict, intimates that they aimed thereby to appease a particular social category. A tax, destined to assist the disadvantaged, was reformulated to benefit the rich.Footnote 75
Alongside innovative forms of “zakat evasion,”Footnote 76 Kuwaiti companies, like their Saudi counterparts, may take advantage of the weak regulatory environment by failing to divulge their true net worth so as to contribute less than they would have otherwise.Footnote 77 In the words of a Saudi economist who sits on the shariʿa boards of several Islamic banks, “there is a lot of deception and trickery in the payment of zakat by the very rich. Many are not prepared to pay 2.5%, especially since 2.5% of a few billion [Saudi riyals] is a lot of money.”Footnote 78 Thus, while zakat was meant to be a formula to counter hoarding, reduce inequality and combat material hardship, it, like taxation systems in Europe and North America, is routinely manipulated to facilitate private accumulation.
Although private giving is said to be substantial in Gulf states, statistics are lacking (Hartnell Reference Hartnell2018, 42–3). Moreover, some who are employed in the philanthropic sector voice skepticism about the true extent of generosity. According to a representative of Oman Charity, “what is said and what is true are not always the same; there is a lot of exaggeration about the generosity of Gulf nationals.”Footnote 79 A prominent Kuwaiti philanthropist went further: “We are still a tribal society, and being tribal means that in order to give, we need to first find out who is involved, who will get the credit, etcetera. We are not yet ready to give magnanimously.”Footnote 80
As elsewhere in the Muslim world, giving is greatest during the holy month of Ramadan and through mosques, especially following Friday prayers. People donate to different sorts of entities: individuals in need, government offices, charitable organizations or campaigns focused on particular causes or crises at home or abroad. There are hundreds of private charitable initiatives, as well as highly publicized, government-sponsored campaigns which, until recently, solicited contributions via telethons or television, or collection boxes in malls. However, due to transparency-related concerns, these latter collection methods are less common today.
No doubt, some private giving circumvents organizations, foundations and government agencies. In fact, several interlocutors explained that typically, individuals with means give to a select group of people recurrently. In Qatar, for example, such individuals may have a roster, constituted over time, of needy individuals or families, inside and sometimes outside the country, as well, to whom they give on a regular basis. This roster, revised over time, may be handed down from one member to another within a family.Footnote 81 The billionaire Bahwan brothers in Oman, each with his own diversified business group, are said to “have envoys throughout the country who create a list of needy people who then receive monthly allowances.” My interlocutor went on to say that “these men are loved and respected, but they have to be careful not to be seen as competing with the government and/or royals, and so, they tend to give quietly.”Footnote 82 Nonetheless, in Kuwait and Oman, where an underdeveloped culture of giving outside the family was noted repeatedly by my interlocutors, the focus remains on one’s tribe, ethnic or confessional community.Footnote 83 And across the region, building a mosque is another popular form of individual giving, as is establishing a waqf to address a particular concern.
What Do Citizens Say about Charitable Giving Today?
Many of my interlocutors pointed out that although giving is said to be extensive, poverty still exists in Gulf states – certainly in Bahrain, Oman and Saudi Arabia. They insisted that if zakat were paid and distributed appropriately, poverty would have been eliminated.Footnote 84 Some went further, suggesting that persistent poverty in these petro-monarchies is the result of greed, among Gulf elites especially.Footnote 85 Others suggested that in the current environment, characterized by material abundance and profligate consumption, “commitment to social welfare and recognition of the social value of money are wanting, while piety, to the extent it does exist, is de-linked from social responsibility.”Footnote 86
When asked about prevailing concerns for maṣlaḥa ʿamma (the common good), several interlocutors responded sarcastically that maṣlaḥa khaṣṣa (private interest) was far more prevalent.Footnote 87 An oft-cited example was the penchant to construct a mosque and attach one’s name to it. As a prominent Omani businessman remarked: “Mosque building … is not about Islam; it’s about status and posterity.”Footnote 88 Indeed, the predilection for public posturing and ostentation, for cozying up to the powerful was underscored repeatedly:
The preference is for big, well-advertised projects – promoted by the Emir, perhaps – that glorify the selves … Some want to show off that they’re giving. Look at charitable societies, like …; money goes to the media first, to make a big splash about them, and the founder uses the foundation to enrich his other projects. He makes sure the Emir knows about his charitable acts and so, gives him more business.Footnote 89
Of course, this is not unique to Gulf states. Similar behaviors have been identified in Syria among government-sponsored NGOs and “loyal philanthropists” (Ruiz de Elvira Reference Ruiz De Elvira and Zintl2014, 337–40), as well as in Egypt (Atia Reference Atia2013, 121), among other countries. According to some of my interlocutors, as noted in Chapter 4, “Islam is a big business … it’s an instrument for making more money and increasing popularity.”Footnote 90
There are, for sure, exceptions to these patterns, but they exist because “the philanthropist is exceptional.”Footnote 91 Bab Rizq Jameel (Beautiful Gateway to Prosperity) is a community service initiative within the broader corporate social responsibility (CSR) program of the Saudi business organization, Abdellatif Jameel Group (AJG), named for its founder.Footnote 92 It was established in 2003, initially as a microfinance initiative modeled on the Grameen Bank of Bangladesh, to assist poor Saudis by supporting self-designed income-generating projects. Like Grameen, it lends to women who have a plan for a small business and have constituted a group of five borrowers – only one of whom may be a non-Saudi resident.Footnote 93 As in the Grameen Bank model, lending to the group is meant to encourage solidarity and shared responsibility. Bab Rizq also runs free job-training courses for poor, unemployed men and women, and assists successful graduates in finding employment. This multifaceted CSR operation, financed almost entirely from the family’s fortune, is focused on helping the poor get themselves out of poverty.
Conclusion
Variations among the four states in the configuration of the charity domain, as noted, have much to do with the respective peculiarities of dynastic authoritarianism and the relationship with the religious sphere. In the case of Saudi Arabia, the Al-Saʿud, despite their historic alliance with Wahhabi religious forces, reign supreme. An absolutist monarchy, no non-state corporate group, religious tendency or individual may gain exclusive distinction for itself and certainly not for such consequential activities as welfare provision. In Qatar, the charity domain is one of the few spheres in which religious forces enjoy a role. Nonetheless, most of the charities that have a Salafi or Muslim Brotherhood orientation also have an Al-Thani in the leadership structure or as founder. Thus, not only has the ruling family co-opted the philanthropic sector, but also through their direct oversight they ensure that the influence of these religious orientations remains mostly informal and apolitical. Denying an institutional presence for religious forces in Qatar likely reflects the Al-Thani’s concerns regarding their political autonomy and regime security in an environment in which they had originally sought political and tribal legitimacy in part by asserting their ideological affiliation to Wahhabism – then dominant in the Peninsula (Baskan and Wright Reference Baskan and Wright2011, 105–8). In Oman, where power is centralized in the sultan, preventing the emergence of other (potential) centers of power has been key. As noted, during the reign of the late Sultan Qaboos, even the royal family was kept mostly on the sidelines. Moreover, with multiple sects of Islam well-represented in the population, both the late Sultan Qaboos and the current Sultan Haitham have been careful to promote a “desectarian” Islam and impede the emergence of institutionalized religious forces in society. Hence, neither royals nor formalized religious tendencies are prominent in charitable institutions.
What can be deduced about practices of giving and their implications for politics? First, a universal phenomenon, benevolence may be motivated by political ambitions in addition to charitable feelings. Giving at home and assistance abroad can be sources of political and/or social capital: means to extend influence, establish networks, gain recognition and secure allegiance. This is true for governing authorities and multilateral entities, as well as for clientelist business groups, “loyalist” and identity-based organizations. And as we have seen with ideology-driven entities, their generosity may be tied to adherence to their daʿwa. Thus, conformism and obedience are enforced, the ranks of the believers grow and the particular ideology gains in influence.
Charitable giving may be a more-or-less deliberate conservatizing force. It is not a strategy to address poverty at its source or effectively mitigate inequality (Cammett Reference Cammett2014, 218–27; Isik Reference Isik2014, 322; Mittermaier Reference Menoret2020, 123). Rather than promote real socioeconomic change, it is, as Derbal (Reference Derbal2011, 63–4) observes in Saudi Arabia, a means to reinforce difference and consolidate the hierarchy in place. As an institutionalized practice, charity “diverts from the structural causes of need and poverty, thus disabling forms of resistance to such structural inequality and reproducing poverty and need” (Moumtaz Reference Moumtaz2021, 231). Furthermore, while named giving, in contrast to the Qurʾanic preference for anonymity, may indeed provide a positive example for others to follow, it is, as well, an unequivocal expression of status and hence, a solicitation of recognition. Besides, named giving may offer the benefactor an array of public relations benefits of a social, political or economic nature and related to their ambitions (Cammett Reference Cammett2014, 203). Added to that, when not extended anonymously and/or when conjoined with ideology, benevolence presupposes indebtedness; and what more effective a way to repay a debt than through submission – to the benefactor’s authority and/or their beliefs?
Second, when the ruler or members of the ruling family extend charity and/or are active in charitable associations, there is a blurring of the distinction between public and private, with important effects (LeRenard Reference Le Renard2008, 145). The “royal,” in the guise of an exclusively private citizen, is able to intervene more deeply in society. In so doing, they gain not only allegiance but also access to information that may be useful to the ruler (or ruling family) in his (or their) public function(s). Furthermore, when the state intervenes in the domain of charity by encouraging citizens to give, regulating the creation, organization and activities of charitable associations, decreasing requisite (zakat) contributions from some social categories or withholding access to charity from others, it is using charitable giving as a tool for social management and social control. By appeasing some and marginalizing others, it reinforces its domination of society while consolidating the contours of community.
Third, while international giving has prioritized Arab and Muslim countries and communities, giving at home tends to concentrate on family, tribe, ethnic and confessional community. Thus, those at home who are disadvantaged but not considered part of the community to which the Gulf state and citizen feel an obligation, are denied assistance. Recall, as well, that giving is also about getting in return: In the words of a prominent Kuwaiti philanthropist, “we give when we expect our generosity will bring us recognition.”Footnote 94 In the case of migrant laborers, for example, not only are they perceived as distant and disassociated, but also, their allegiance is unnecessary and their submission, expected. Nothing of value is deemed to accrue to a donor by giving to them, even though citizens’ quality of life is dependent upon them.Footnote 95
Highlighting exclusions and other features of charitable giving in Gulf monarchies demonstrates that in these states, as in other environments, the normative inferences, supposedly at the source of charitable giving, are not always obvious or primary.Footnote 96 Furthermore, through this oil-financed institutionalized practice, ruling elites engage in not only manipulating but also regulating religion, however discretely, in their efforts to manage and control society. Indeed, secular goals related to the accumulation of capital (social, political, economic) are prominent, and regime priorities – its project of community, nation and state – are advanced.
