Qatar, the Gulf emirate famed for openness, is silencing critics
FOR DECADES Qatar has promoted itself as a beacon of openness in a repressive region. It hosts Al Jazeera, a popular Arab satellite station that broadcasts opinions suppressed elsewhere in the Middle East. And it is a haven to those fleeing Arab despots. But its emir, Tamim bin Hamad Al Thani, is less tolerant of criticism directed at him. Last month he issued a decree threatening five years’ imprisonment or a fine of $27,000 for “anyone who broadcasts, publishes or republishes false or biased rumours, statements or news…with the intent to harm national interests, stir up public opinion or infringe on the social system”. The leading state-controlled daily newspaper reported on the decree—then nervously retracted its report.In Doha, the image of the emir is as ubiquitous as Saddam Hussein’s once was in Baghdad. “Tamim the Glorious”, reads the slogan underneath. Qatar’s newspapers often have the same front-page stories, with near-identical headlines. The lead story on January 23rd, about a police graduation ceremony, mentioned the emir nine times. Academics who step out of line risk being dismissed. “I can’t even organise a workshop,” says a writer returning from a civil-rights seminar in Kuwait.The institutions tasked with holding the government to account are window-dressing, say critics. The Consultative Assembly, Qatar’s parliament, sits in a gleaming white building laced with arabesque. But its 45 appointees wield little power. Elections promised in 2003 never took place. Al Jazeera “is free to criticise other countries but never to criticise Qatar”, says a media-watcher in the emirate. The state-funded channel trumpets the Saudi women seeking asylum in the West, but keeps mum about Qatar’s own women seeking asylum in Britain. “There’s no Qatari opposition,” says its acting director, Mostefa Souag, when asked to explain the lack of Qatari dissent on his programmes.Qataris have doubts about the emir’s decisions. They wonder why he squandered billions on foreign ventures and arms deals and struggles to reconcile with Saudi Arabia, which has led a blockade on Qatar since 2017. “We want freedom of speech for the people of the region and they’re not happy with that,” says the emir, unironically. Most Qataris stay mum. “We’re scared,” says Najeeb Nuaimi, a former justice minister who is under a travel ban. “They’ll take your passport or your property and leave you stateless if you talk.”The muttering is only likely to grow. Qatar adheres to Wahhabism, the same conservative school of Islam as Saudi Arabia. But it is hosting football’s World Cup in 2022. Locals worry about drunken fans, Israeli flags and public displays of affection, among other things. “Each day we get closer to the opening brings more discontent,” says Abdelhamid al-Ansari, a former dean of Qatar University.Qatar’s rulers have transformed Doha from a sandpit into one of the Gulf’s most stylish cities. It has a corniche of glitzy skyscrapers, the only underground to be found anywhere between Cairo and Tehran, and stunning museums. Just a generation ago women were kept hidden. They still cannot travel without permission, but now there are female ministers, judges and ambassadors. Yet Qatar cannot claim to be a beacon of openness until it stops trying to silence critics. Enlightenment begins at home.■This article appeared in the Middle East and Africa section of the print edition under the headline “Tamim the gloriously tolerant”Reuse this contentThe Trust Project