From the WSJ Opinion Archives
DE GUSTIBUS
The Break-Fast Club
Kuwaitis think America should be more assertive in the Arab world.
KUWAIT CITY--"Take no prisoners of war until the last infidel is vanquished," a portly imam in Mecca chants from the Koran on my hotel television screen.
This just-arrived infidel nervously reaches for the "suggested behavior during Ramadan" notice provided by the Sheraton here. Ending next week, the holiest of Islam's months demands abstinence from food, drink and that other bodily pleasure during the day, the Sheraton says. Only the notice fails to make clear that the asceticism ends promptly at sunset, even in this most pious of Muslim states.
At night, Ramadan brings music and the scents of apple tobacco and strong coffee onto the streets, as well as the gluttony that comes naturally after the fast of the day. "We're not saints, you know," says Ahmed Bishara, a prominent Kuwaiti political figure, when I share my mild surprise.
I set off with Mr. Bishara in his SUV, embarking on a tour of the diwaniyas, informal clubs dedicated to a pursuit instantly recognizable to any Manhattanite--networking. (Needless to say, women aren't invited or welcome.) Kuwaiti men move from one diwaniya to another, sharing tea or a short chat.
The first stop tonight is the diwaniya run by Mr. Bishara's cousin. As I shake the hands of the dozen men there, I let slip that I'm heading up to Iraq the next day. Braced for a taste of Yankee-bashing, I get an earful of Americanophilia instead. It's soon clear this Ramadan is uniquely joyous: the first without Saddam Hussein, who overran Kuwait in 1990 before Uncle Sam kicked him out half a year later.
Revenge is sweet, and profitable. Hotels are full and business is booming, a USC graduate who runs a catering business tells me. Kuwait's former finance minister, Youssef Ibrahim, whispers in my ear that "being next to Iraq is a golden opportunity." What about all the violence and political trouble? "I have no doubt the Americans will make it work," he says. At least someone's confident.
Between the various stops, Mr. Bishara explains that of all the non-Iraqi Arab states, Kuwait alone can claim first-hand experience of the U.S. and Saddam's Iraq. For that reason, Kuwaitis believe in the U.S. project for remaking Iraq, and the Middle East.
Mr. Bishara does have a gripe, however. "The U.S. made a mistake here," he says, thinking back to the 1991 liberation. "They had a free hand to liberalize this country and instead they packed up their troops and moved out. We had to fight even to restore Parliament."
Today Mr. Bishara heads a pro-democracy group--no easy job in a state ruled by infirm septuagenarian emirs and permeated with a Saudi-style strain of religious and social conservatism. But educated Arabs have no trouble discussing democracy on "our" terms. Along with every Kuwaiti I meet this evening, Mr. Bishara studied in the U.S., getting his undergraduate degree at Columbia during the turbulent 1960s. "Those SDS guys were friends of mine," he says, before insisting that their protest tactics--taking over buildings, holding people hostage--wouldn't translate well to Kuwait.
I ask how a Western-educated liberal can keep his wife from the diwaniyas or let his daughter live in a country as a second-class citizen. He responds with an understanding smile. "My wife wouldn't want to come here," he says, pointing to his roomful of friends at our final destination, a diwaniya organized by the deputy speaker of Kuwait's Parliament. "What's more, she would think it strange if I didn't come here."
In this room, America and democracy come to dominate conversation. Isn't America too pushy in the Middle East? Not pushy enough, says Abdullah Abdurahman al-Taweel, the minister of commerce. "If Iraq becomes a liberal democracy with a functioning civil society, it will have a major effect throughout the area," he says. Ask the Syrians, he adds. "They're scared witless." Mohammed al-Sager, chairman of Parliament's foreign affairs committee, notes that the U.S. doesn't get any credit among Muslims for saving Muslims from war or despotism in Kuwait, Bosnia, Kosovo, Afghanistan and now Iraq. "Before you give Iraqis democracy," he says, "you need to give them freedom."
Before the latest war, I'm told, Kuwait turned over 60% of its land to American forces. The Gulf state took a risk, alienating a vast chunk of the Arab world. "We stuck our neck out," Mr. Bishara says. "The U.S. can pick up and leave, and we'd be left with an injured neighbor. That's why we want to see Iraq become a better place, tolerant, a good neighbor. It's not something you do and walk away. It's a process. I hope the Americans understand that."
Mr. Kaminski is an editorial page writer for The Wall Street Journal Europe.
