Kuwait's democratic exceptionalism is challenged by the recent suspension of the Kuwaiti parliament and certain articles of the constitution, an event that for many citizens and interested observers alike seemed both improbable and inevitable.
The Constitution Monument in Al Shaheed Park (Kuwait City) commemorating the 50th anniversary of the country's constitution.
Scholars have long noted the difficulty of categorizing Kuwait as a fixed regime type. The closest characterization is that of a hybrid: a semi-democratic, ‘dynastic monarchy.’ [1] These features make for a curious political arrangement in which Kuwaitis speak reverently of their emir while praising the country’s democratic traditions such as political openness and freedom of speech. Kuwaitis are also proud of their former status as Pioneer of the Gulf including in education, the arts, and sports - areas that in the rest of the Gulf have significantly outpaced Kuwaiti predominance since the heyday of the 1960s and ‘70s. Sixty-three years into their democratic experiment, Kuwaitis today bemoan the loss of that position and the current state of the country’s affairs. Indeed, for years many have been asking whether democracy has gotten in the way of progress.
Against this backdrop, ideologically and socioeconomically diverse groups – composed of liberals, Islamists, socialists, Shia, Sunnis, city dwellers (Hadar) and tribal peoples (Bedouins) - regularly contest elections for parliament. Since 2006 especially, [2] the elected representatives of these groups and the emir-appointed government have frequently come to a head upon that battlefield called the National Assembly. This dynamic has led to recurrent emiri decrees that dissolved parliaments, reshuffled cabinets, and called for new elections to break the gridlock between the legislative and executive branches. In turn, the ensuing political stagnation has complicated efforts to implement the country’s national and developmental goal to “restore the regional leadership role of Kuwait as a financial and commercial hub,” as conceptualized in the National Development Plan (2035 Vision) [3] unveiled in 2017, a bold initiative aimed at moving away from the country’s rentier economy.
Kuwaitis’ perspectives on the National Assembly, assessed shortly before the last election of 2024, revealed strong negative sentiment against the parliament. In fact, 60 percent responded that “the government could carry out effective actions if it were not held back by the parliament.” [4]
Not surprisingly, many view the elected parliament as an arena for the unruly, self-interested pursuits of individual members of parliament (MPs), whose behavior vis-a-vis the emir and ministers has become more directly confrontational in the past decade, a trend begun by Musallam Al-Barrak's famous 2012 “We will not allow you” speech in which he criticized the then emir Sheikh Sabah Al-Sabah directly - an act considered criminal in Kuwait – when he warned that the people would not allow his highness to “take Kuwait into the abyss of autocracy.” [5]
Such confrontational attitudes have since been frequently aired by parliamentarians. In fact, warnings to parliamentarians to respect the constitutional powers of the emir had been issued by the current emir since his time as Crown Prince. [6] Nevertheless, many Kuwaitis and political observers alike were taken aback by the emiri decision to suspend parliament and several critical parts of the constitution on May 10th, 2024, for a maximum of 4 years after an MP’s confrontational speech, deemed offensive by the emir. [7] While some perceive speaking directly to power as a sign of progress, these lone wolf acts have proven to be detrimental to the opposition’s goal of further democratization and have even led to the imprisonment of some MPs [8] shortly after the parliamentary and constitutional suspension.
Indeed, for the past decade, the country’s politics has resembled a rudderless ship – with mass protests over corruption, multiple dissolutions of parliament, and countless elections. For this reason, many Kuwaitis view the emiri decision as an inevitable and necessary intervention in an ongoing cycle of tit-for-tat between elected parliament members and appointed government ministers.
In a televised May 10th speech, [9] Sheikh Mishaal warned that he would “not allow that democracy be exploited to destroy the state ...” referencing to the recent behaviors of specific MPs he felt had infringed on his executive prerogatives granted by the constitution (to name a Crown Prince of his choosing, for instance). More broadly, he referred to parliamentary pressure (via the overuse of interpellations, or “grillings” of ministers) on several governments which, he blamed, forced these governments to overlook violations allowing corruption to spread to “most of the state’s facilities and ... economic and security institutions.” [10]
Many Kuwaitis, feeling the pinch of deteriorating economic conditions (high loan debt) [11] and looking at projected demographic shift and unemployment rates [12] (already Kuwait has the highest youth unemployment in the Gulf) [13], while eyeing the spectacular economic and developmental achievements of their neighbors, welcomed the emiri decision warmly. For others, whose political socialization has conditioned them to expect to have a significant say in the ruling of the country, the unilateral nature of the measure taken feels like an attack on their identity and role as parties to the historic social contract between the people and the Al-Sabah dynasty. In fact, Kuwaitis pride themselves on their significant political influence relative to the ruling family, a unique and privileged position when compared to citizens of other Gulf nations. This attitude of political efficacy was most recently expressed by the relatively high voter turnout of 62% in the last elections [14], the 4th in four years. [15] The ultimate question now for this historic seafaring nation is, where is the ship headed?
For the time being, “all aspects of the democratic practice will be reviewed, and the findings of the study will be referred to us to take what we deem appropriate,” according to the emir.[16] In Kuwait, political speculation, much like conspiracy theories, are traded liberally, and predictions regarding potential revisions to the sixty-two-year-old constitution abound. These range from minor tweaks to the Constitution and a swift return to parliamentary life to the gradual, but eventual transformation of the character of the regime to resemble something more akin to that of the UAE or KSA. At present, the average Kuwaiti expects that parliament will return. In what form and how it will be elected might be subject to change.
Timelines are also put forth. Some optimistically predict that popular pressure to return to parliamentary life will be evident as soon as 6-10 months. This assumption is based on public pressure to the previous suspensions (1976 and 1986) [17] which, although did not manifest initially, led to the reinstatement of the parliament and constitution without changes. [18]According to a Arab Barometer survey conducted shortly before the last election, although Kuwaitis expressed significant disillusionment with the parliament’s performance and the democratic system itself, they espoused far greater support for the continuity of democracy in Kuwait. Indeed, 85 percent agreed that “democratic systems may have problems, yet they are better than other systems.” [19]
Further evidence that Kuwaiti political culture has embedded within it a keen sense of the importance of participatory governance are references citizens make to the country’s historic past of consensus building. Initial public reaction to the suspension has been tame, yet according to many Kuwaitis I have spoken to, both those in favor and against it, many claim they are ready to rally to bring back the parliament if the new government does not deliver on their promises of reforms sooner rather than later. Kuwaitis’ expectations for significant reform and progress are high, and it is evident that many are closely evaluating the government’s performance during this period. Simultaneously, some are also questioning: has democracy really been abused in Kuwait, or was the version of democracy practiced in Kuwait too limited in scope? Given these attitudes, we are left to wonder: how long is the grace period offered to the authorities, and will it be smooth sailing until then?
Notes
1. Michael Herb, All in the Family: Absolutism, Revolution, and Democracy in Middle Eastern Monarchies (Albany: State University of New York Press, 1999)
10. Ibid.
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