Editor's Note
In his November 2005
Senate testimony, Anthony Cordesman, Burke Chair in
Strategy at the Center for Strategic and International
Studies, addressed the challenges facing the Middle East
and North Africa, noting that the region's population
had seen almost a fourfold increase since 1950 and would
double again by 2050. He described a "youth explosion"
with an increase in 20-24 year olds in the MENA region
from 10 million in 1950 to 36 million, with a forecast
of steady growth of this age group to at least 56
million by 2050.
These trends apply to Saudi Arabia as well. In 2005,
according to the
US Census Department International Data Base, of a
population just over 26 million in Saudi Arabia, 15
million were younger than 25 years old.
Cordesman, writing about economic stability in the
Kingdom in August 2005 said, "Saudi Arabia has a very
young population. Some 37.3% of its population is in the
0-14 years of age group, which compares to 20.8% for the
US, 17.9% for the UK, and 14.3% for Spain." Most
discussions of demographics in the Kingdom are tied to
issues of education, job opportunities and social
stability, and rarely touch on the issues most important
to young people themselves, the quality of life
questions that arise from growing up in a conservative
society.
Today we present a snapshot of that aspect of Saudi
Arabia's demographic challenge from
Dan Murphy, of the Christian Science Monitor.
In the first of three reports from the Kingdom, he wrote
about how some young Saudi men and women are finding
their ways in society. This is an important component of
the demographic issue to follow. As
Arab News
editor Khaled al Maenna told Afshin Molavi ("Young
and Restless"), "This huge youth population will
determine our future.. They hold the keys to the
kingdom.�
We present Dan Murphy's report for your consideration
and thank the Christian Science Monitor for
permission to reprint it here.
Wave of Saudi youths challenge kingdom's conservative
sway
Saudi Arabia's rulers are allowing young people to push
social boundaries � a little.
By Dan Murphy | Staff writer of The Christian Science
Monitor
Jeddah, Saudi Arabia
Young men in a cafe here laughed when asked if, in an
attempt to get dates, they still discreetly toss phone
numbers at girls as they pass their cars or tables.
"That's so five years ago," says one. "We just get
together in the family sections of cafes," referring to
the area of a restaurant that is walled off from where
single male patrons dine.
In Saudi Arabia, the young are findings more ways around
the conservative regulation of public life. From dating
to listening to music, they are testing the strict hold
of religion on a kingdom ruled by the Koran and the same
family for decades. Indeed, with more than 70 percent of
its citizens under 30, the oil-rich country is being
forced to find more room for freedoms than outsiders
typically expect from this monarchy. While the young
people aren't likely to lead a revolution on the scale
that America saw in the 1960s, the urge for greater
independence is coming under the rule of reform-minded
King Abdullah, who many say is giving some license for
Saudis seeking change.
"Look, of course this is still a very, very conservative
place, and half of the time all I think about is
leaving," says Ibrahim, a 23-year-old hipster in baggy
jeans, a goatee, and a T-shirt. "But it's a lot better
than a few years ago. Just look around."
To be sure, there are still controls on free speech and
political activity. Conservative clerics still stand in
the way of women driving, public movie theaters, and
concerts. Shops must close during the five daily prayer
times, restaurants must have gender-segregated seating,
and adultery and homosexuality are still technically
punishable by death.
A vast array of book are still banned here, but are
available nonetheless. This year's Riyadh book fair had
lots of banned titles, including "The Others" by Sada
al-Haize (probably a pseudonym), which took a look at
the daily life of lesbians here.
And while the Koran may still be Saudi Arabia's
constitution, Rotana, the company that promotes most of
the Arab world's pop stars and their sexy videos, is
based in Riyadh. The company, owned by the Prince al-Waleed
bin Talal, is also branching out into film.
Ayman Halawani, the head of the company's
film-production unit, says they have permission to start
making the first feature film in Saudi Arabia this fall,
and that he's hopeful the kingdom's ban on public
cinemas will be lifted next year.
He says making movies here will be much more expensive
than in Cairo or Beirut, the region's film capitals, but
that in the long run it will be worth it. He thinks the
king supports their efforts. "How do you tackle the
ideology of people?" he asks. "If you're direct about
it, they'll reject you. If you're subtle about it,
through movies, you can help things change."
Things are even loosening up in Riyadh, the desert
capital in the center of Nejd, the province that gave
rise to both the ruling Saud family and the Mohammed ibn
Abd al-Wahab, who gave the kingdom an interpretation of
Islamic law that is among the strictest and most
limiting in the world.
On the streets there, where just a few years ago the
religious police would have harassed a woman who didn't
cover her face, some women go about with their hair
uncovered � though a scarf is always handy. The
religious police, or mutawaeen, have been much less
assertive since Abdullah ascended to the throne two
years ago.
The 84-year-old monarch has said he wants to give women
more rights and allow more room for personal expression.
For the moment, he has reined in the more reactionary of
the country's clerics.
"What are they afraid of: If I'm allowed to drive the
country will collapse?" asks Sera Kattoua, a 23-year-old
photographer whose lip ring and T-shirt places her well
outside the mainstream. "I want this country to really
open up, but it's moving very, very slowly."
Of course, there are still few outlets for expression.
Abdul and Saleh are part of Jeddah's graffiti
subculture, and spend a lot of their free time "tagging"
� spraying their nicknames on city walls. "We're looking
for ways to express ourselves, there aren't a lot of
outlets here," says Abdul. "There are a lot of people
who want to show what they can do."
The rash of graffiti across the city in the past few
years prompted Nasi bin Salim al-Moteb, president of the
municipal council in the Jeddah neighborhood Briman, to
erect some walls for the use of spray-can-toting young
men. "We have a problem here: Everything is set aside
for family activities, and the kids need a place to
enjoy and have fun," he says. "This is a start."
While Abdul, an enthusiastic amateur photographer,
recently helped set up an art show for local youth at a
cafe, the gathering was technically illegal because they
didn't have permission.
Fans of Wasted Land, a "death metal" band from Jeddah,
are resigned to downloading the group's music from the
Internet or traveling outside the kingdom if they want
to hear the band. Their plans for a concert at a private
compound earlier this year was shut down after
authorities caught wind of it. "We got a call and they
said, please, you've got to stop this because it will
create problems for us and for you," recalls guitarist
Ahmed Khojah.
Singer Emad Mujallid says: "It's frustrating. We want to
play for people here. Maybe someday."
Young women are also finding a way to live out a minor
teen rebellion. The Sultanah abaya shop in downtown
Riyadh caters to young Saudi women with elaborate bead
work on the shapeless black robes that most wear when
outside.
For about $300, shoppers can take home designs that
range from the cute (Hello Kitty in shimmering silver)
to the mildly rebellious (the Rolling Stone's logo).
Sultanah seems a perfect example of the emerging Saudi
Arabia � until the shop assistant says that no pictures
are allowed. His fear, though, is not of attracting
attention from religious authorities. "These are all
original designs!" he protests.
If mutawaeen are lurking around the nearby Kingdom Mall,
they aren't bothering the young women who toss their
head scarves to their shoulders as they come in and out
of the store. One, on her way out, closes a robe over
cut-off jeans and sneakers; another on her way in opens
a robe to reveal more stylish jeans and high heels.
But her abaya itself is what would probably raise the
ire of the protectors of public morality, if only they
were hip enough: On its back is a huge, green marijuana
leaf.
http://www.csmonitor.com/2007/0410/p01s03-wome.html
By Dan Murphy. Reused with permission from The Christian
Science Monitor -
http://www.csmonitor.com April 10, 2007. �
2007 The Christian Science Monitor. All rights
reserved. For permissions, contact
[email protected] .
