Kristian Coates Ulrichsen

QATAR AND THE ARAB SPRING
KRISTIAN COATES ULRICHSEN
Qatar and the Arab Spring
A
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Kristian Coates Ulrichsen
Qatar and the Arab Spring
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CONTENTS
Acknowledgements vii
Abbreviations ix
Introduction 1
PART I
1.â•‡Historical and Political Context 13
2.â•‡State-Branding and the Leveraging of Power and Influence 37
3.â•‡Drivers and Motivations of Qatari Foreign Policy 67
PART II
4.â•‡Qatar and the Arab Spring 99
5.â•‡Arab Solutions to Arab Problems: Libya and Syria 121
6.â•‡Post-Arab Spring Challenges and Implications 145
Epilogue: Qatar Under Emir Tamim 173
Notes 185
Bibliography 211
Index 223
v
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
This book could not have been written without the professional support,
friendship, and encouragement of Michael Dwyer and his colleagues at
Hurst & Co. The value of a good publisher is inestimable and worthy of
deep appreciation. Friends and colleagues in Qatar provided me with
hospitality, good conversation, and revealing insight on my numerous
trips to Doha, and Dennis Kumetat also read and commented on the
manuscript in draft; I thank them all. Academic colleagues at the
London School of Economics and Chatham House provided further
support and friendship, as did a small group of close friends and family
who made the sometimes solitary task of writing a book a pleasurable
experience. I dedicate this book to my wife, in recognition of and ever-
lasting gratitude for her love and support in all walks of life.
vii
ABBREVIATIONS
BRIC Brazil, Russia, India and China

CENTCOM Central Command (US)
CIA Central Intelligence Agency (US)
CNOOC China National Offshore Oil Corporation
COP Conference of the Parties
EITI Extractive Industries Transparency Initiative
FBI Federal Bureau of Investigation (US)
FCA Financial Conduct Authority (UK)
FDI Foreign direct investment
FIFA Fédération Internationale de Football Association
GCC Gulf Cooperation Council
GDP Gross domestic product
GTL Gas-to-liquids
HBJ Hamad bin Jassim Al-Thani
IAAF International Association of Athletics Federations
ICC International Criminal Court
ITUC International Trade Union Confederation
KA-CARE King Abdullah City for Atomic and Renewable Energy
KAUST King Abdullah University of Science and Technology
KSM Khalid Sheikh Mohammed
LEED Leadership in Energy and Environmental Design
LNG Liquefied natural gas
MENA Middle East and North Africa
METI Ministry of Economy, Trade and Industry (Japan)
MICE Meetings, incentives, conferences, events
ix
ABBREVIATIONS
MMBTU British thermal units
MNLA National Movement for the Liberation of Azawad
(Mali)
MUJWA Movement for Unity and Jihad in West Africa (Mali)
NATO North Atlantic Treaty Organisation
NFZ No-fly zone
NTC National Transitional Council (Libya)
PFLOAG Popular Front for the Liberation of Oman and the
Arabian Gulf
QAFAC Qatar Fuel and Additives Company
QAFCO Qatar Fertiliser Company
QAPCO Qatar Petroleum Company
QDR Qatar and Dubai Riyal
QNB Qatar National Bank
QNV Qatar National Vision
ROTA Reach Out To Asia
SABIC Saudi Arabian Basic Industries Corporation
SCAF Supreme Council of the Armed Forces (Egypt)
SESRI Social and Economic Survey Research Institute
SME Small and medium enterprises
SNC Syrian National Council
SOE State-owned enterprise
UAE United Arab Emirates
UN United Nations
UNFCCC United Nations Framework on Combating Climate
Change
WANA West Asia-North Africa
x
INTRODUCTION
This book examines Qatar’s role in the Arab Spring upheaval that spread
rapidly across the Middle East and North Africa between December
2010 and June 2013. Uniquely among regional states, Qatari officials
saw the outbreak of unrest in Tunisia, Egypt and Libya in the early
months of 2011 as an opportunity to be seized, rather than a challenge
to be contained. Benefiting from a highly fortuitous combination of a
small national population and massive energy reserves, Qatar’s ruling
Al-Thani family spearheaded the transformation of domestic and foreign
policy in the late-1990s and 2000s. Under the leadership of Emir
Hamad bin Khalifa Al-Thani (who ruled from 1995 to 2013) and his
influential prime minister between 2007 and 2013, Sheikh Hamad bin
Jassim Al-Thani, the tiny emirate grabbed worldwide attention as it
morphed into a regional power with an increasingly global reach. Their
strategies of aggressive internationalisation and state-branding peaked
on 2 December 2010 when Qatar was sensationally awarded the hosting
Â€
rights to the 2022 FIFA World Cup.

â•… Just fifteen days later, Tunisian fruit vendor Mohamed Bouazizi set
himself on fire and, however inadvertently, set in motion the chain of
events that lit the spark of revolt across the Arab world. During the
weeks and months that followed, Qatar played a vital role not only in
shaping the emerging narratives of protest, through the Doha-based Al
Jazeera network, but also in mobilising Arab support, initially for the
NATO-led intervention in Libya in March 2011, and later for the dip-
lomatic isolation of Bashar Al-Assad’s regime as the civil conflict in Syria
escalated. Qatar’s wide-ranging contribution that ousted the forty-two-
1
year dictatorship of Colonel Gaddafi encompassed an unprecedented
and extensive military contribution as well as efforts at mediation and
post-conflict reconstruction. The sight of Qatar’s distinctive maroon and
white flag flying atop the ruins of Gaddafi’s Bab al-Aziziya compound
was as rich in symbolism as it was reflective of the country’s outsize role
in engineering regime change in Tripoli.
â•… Libya dramatically revealed the shifting contours of power and influ-
ence in the Middle East. At a time of great regional uncertainty, Qatar
presented a compelling image as an outpost of stability and prosperity,
even as the protests reached neighbouring Gulf Cooperation Council
(GCC) states with a major uprising starting in Bahrain, just twenty-five
miles off Qatar’s western shore. The calm in Qatar itself and Al Jazeera’s
iconic coverage of events in Cairo’s Tahrir Square in February 2011 pow-
erfully reinforced the perception that Qatar was different from neigh-
bouring states. Aside from boosting the image of Qatar around the world,
it imbued the Emir and his prime minister with the confidence to lead
the regional response to Libya in the name of “seeking Arab solutions to
Arab problems.” During this period, Qatar held the rotating presidency
of the Arab League, and played a pivotal role in putting together the
international coalition in favour of the creation of a no-fly zone to protect
the city of Benghazi from Gaddafi’s murderous rampage.
Qatar’s Rise in Context

As the early chapters in this book make clear, these policies did not
spring fully-formed from a vacuum. Rather, they represented the cap-
stone of a decade and more of a painstaking approach to reformulating
Qatari foreign policy with diplomatic mediation at its core. Qatar care-
fully nurtured a growing reputation as a “non-stop mediator” to carve
for itself a niche in regional diplomacy in the years before 2011.1
Simultaneously, the farsighted decision in the early-1990s to build up
Qatar’s energy infrastructure in order to exploit the country’s massive
reserves of natural gas enabled Doha to accrue and project considerable
forms of “soft power,” whether in the shape of long-term liquefied natu-
ral gas (LNG) contracts that tied external partners’ energy security needs
to Qatar’s domestic stability, or through the large-scale accumulation of
capital and its investment both within Qatar and in prestige acquisitions
abroad. In less than fifteen years, the convergence of these trends trans-
2
INTRODUCTION
formed Doha (and Qatar) from a sleepy backwater, once condescend-
ingly labelled “possibly the most boring place on Earth” by Lonely
Planet, into a gleaming metropolis with a skyline worthy of Manhattan
and a realistic claim to lie at the heart of the “new” Middle East.
â•… The rise of Qatar in the 2000s was therefore in part the outcome of
the set of policy choices taken by the Emir and his prime minister. This
should not be underestimated; Emir Hamad was part of a group of
“millennial” Arab leaders who inherited power in the late-1990s and
early-2000s and were vested, at least initially, with high hopes by an
international community eager to embrace reform in the Middle East.
Yet while Bahrain’s King Hamad bin Isa Al-Khalifa and Syria’s President
Assad disappointed many by their short-lived and ultimately unsuccess-
ful political openings, and the new kings of Jordan and Morocco proved
unwilling to follow-through with measures that would meaningfully
alter the structure or balance of political power, no equivalent challenge
faced the Emir of Qatar once he had consolidated his rule after over-
throwing his father in June 1995. Some political liberalisation did occur
but the reconfiguration of Qatar’s energy landscape took centre stage as
it underpinned a decade of breakneck economic growth. Meanwhile,
Emir Hamad’s creation and expansion of the Al Jazeera television net-
work won favourable plaudits for the way it revolutionised news report-
ing and coverage across the region, enhancing the perception that Qatar
was somehow “different.”
â•… Similar to neighbouring Dubai, the city of Doha developed into an
aspiring regional hub during the 2000s. It was, however, based on a dif-
ferent economic model that was underwritten by far greater levels of
hydrocarbon revenues than its Emirati counterpart which ultimately
required an emergency “bailout” by oil-rich Abu Dhabi when growth
suddenly dried up in 2008. Together with Abu Dhabi and Dubai, Doha
(and Qatar) became part of an intensely competitive triangulation that
sought to reposition the cities of the lower Gulf as integral links in an
increasingly global supply chain of both business and human flows.
Emblematic of this was the startling emergence of Qatar Airways,
Dubai’s Emirates, and Abu Dhabi’s Etihad as “super-connectors” capable
of linking any two places on the planet with one stopover in the Gulf.
Equipped with brand new, state-of-the-art airplanes and five-star service
that cost-cutting European and North American legacy carriers simply
cannot replicate, the three Gulf airlines have, over the past decade,
3
redrawn the map of global aviation and imprinted their brand upon the
consciousness of the traveling public.
â•… In addition to judicious leadership, Qatar’s growth highlighted the
changing concept of notions of “power” and “influence” and the ways
these are projected by small states in international politics. As recently
as 2006, Qatar was characterised as a “micro-state” by J.E. Peterson in a
Â€
research article in the Middle East Journal.2 Since then, extraordinary

levels of in-migration have trebled the Qatari population and propelled
it out of the “micro-state” category. Nevertheless, Qataris constituted
fewer than 300,000 of the estimated 1.9 million inhabitants in 2012—a
proportion that will continue to decrease as the overall population
passed 2 million for the first time in September 2013. Yet neither Qatar’s
small territory nor population constrained the projection of power and
influence at levels that far outmatched many much larger and more
conventionally “powerful” states. This calls into question some of the
dominant assumptions regarding international structures and power in
a globalised era in which both are being radically reconfigured.
â•… During the 1990s and 2000s, the acceleration of globalising forces
integrated states and societies in worldwide systems and networks of
interaction. As noted by David Held and Anthony McGrew in their
work on global transformations, this represented “a significant shift in the
spatial reach of social relations and organisation” as the constraints of
“distance” and “geographical space” weakened and shrank.3 Opportunities
for small states abounded as the link between size and power eroded.
Power and influence could instead be projected through multiple chan-
nels and in various ways, taking advantage of the leverage and opportu-
nities accorded by rising oil and gas revenues. They were aided and
augmented by the rise of “state capitalism” as “the emerging world’s new
model,” with the dynamic development of the resource-rich small Gulf
economies leading the way in being able to mobilise national resources
behind specific projects and programmes.4 It was in this context that
“state-branding” and “soft power” emerged as potent tools in the con-
temporary era, although Mehran Kamrava, in one of a spate of books
published recently on Qatar, suggests that the country was in fact apply-
ing “subtle power,” which he defines as “the ability to exert influence
from behind the scenes” based on the “effective mobilisation of circum-
stances and developing opportunities to its advantage.”5
4
INTRODUCTION
The Arab Spring
These factors provided the broader contextual parameters for Qatar’s
development into a regional power with international reach, a process
that culminated in the successful World Cup bid in December 2010.
Part II of this book examines in detail the shift in Qatari policy in 2011
toward a far more assertive and interventionist approach to the Arab
Spring and assesses its short- and medium-term implications for the
emirate. Mohamed Bouazizi’s desperate plight resonated heavily among
people across the Arab world. It tapped into powerful feelings of help-
lessness and a perceived lack of prospects among youthful populations
lacking sufficient opportunities for employment or upward mobility.
What developed into the “Arab Spring” led to the rapid demise of
Presidents Ben Ali and Mubarak in Tunisia and Egypt, the eventual
ousting of Colonel Gaddafi and Ali Abdullah Saleh from power in Libya
and Yemen, and intensifying mass opposition to the regimes in Bahrain
and Syria. Their size and contagious overspill distinguished the civil
uprisings from previous expressions of discontent, and demonstrated the
magnitude of the socio-economic and political challenges facing the
Middle East and North Africa.6
â•… Although the bulk of the regional upheaval was focused on North
Africa and the Levant, it did not escape the Gulf states. Persistent unrest
spread to the Arabian Peninsula in the spring of 2011. Although the
uprising in Bahrain was its most violent and visible manifestation, it also
encompassed continuing violence in the Eastern Province of Saudi
Arabia, mounting tensions in Oman, and the escalating public and
political protest in Kuwait that resulted in the ousting of its prime min-
ister in December 2011. In the Gulf, the flipside of the powerful new
hyper-modernising tools of communication and mobilisation that hith-
erto had facilitated their global rise now became apparent. In particular,
the synthesis of new social media with younger and highly technology-
savvy populations enabled the instantaneous spread of ideas and news,
eroded state controls over the flow of information, and underscored the
vulnerability of regimes to new methods of public accountability.7 A
potent example was the phenomenal increase in Twitter usage in all
GCC states, with Saudi Arabia registering the world’s fastest rate of
growth in Twitter users throughout 2012, and by far the highest number
of users being aged between eighteen and thirty-four.8 Jane Kinninmont
of Chatham House has observed how Twitter is having “a levelling effect
5
on political, social, and religious discourse as the overwhelmingly youth-
ful demographic of Twitter users has a chance to answer back or argue
with users … in a way that they would find far harder in person.”9 A
case in point was the “Salaries are not enough” Twitter conversation in
August 2013, which garnered millions of tweets in Arabic by predomi-
nantly Saudi participants who expressed their dissatisfaction with a lit-
any of issues ranging from growing wealth inequality, increasing poverty,
corruption and unemployment in the kingdom.10
â•… The Gulf states were at the forefront of attempts to control and shape
the direction of the changes coursing through the Arab world. But
whereas Saudi Arabia, the UAE and Kuwait all provided active levels of
political, economic and military support to a variety of “status quo”
forces in North Africa, Qatar threw its weight behind individuals and
groups linked to the Muslim Brotherhood and its regional affiliates. As
Chapter Four makes clear, there were clear and compelling reasons for
this course of action, but it did expose the deep divisions among GCC
states (and within Arab societies more broadly) over how to address the
Islamist issue. Such a divergence of trajectories (especially in the dia-
metrically opposed Arab Spring policy responses of two outwardly simi-
lar political economies, Qatar and the UAE) powerfully underlines the
diversity of approaches to the regional turmoil. In Syria, too, differences
emerged within the fragmented opposition groups that received backing
from Saudi, Qatari, or Kuwaiti sources, making the task of assembling
a unified opposition group virtually impossible.
â•… The extraordinary visibility of Qatar’s policies toward the Arab Spring
have catapulted the country to the forefront of public and academic
interest. Reams of journal articles and an increasing number of books
have been published on aspects of Qatar’s domestic and foreign policies,
historical development, and contemporary profile. Among the recent
offerings are Allen Fromherz’s Qatar: A Modern History published in
2012,11 Matthew Gray’s Qatar: Politics and the Challenges of Development,12
and Mehran Kamrava’s Qatar: Small State, Big Politics,13 which both
came out in 2013, and David Roberts’s Qatar: Securing the Global
Ambitions of a City-State,14 which will be published in 2015. In addition
to testifying to the upsurge of interest in Qatar as an object of study, the
abovementioned publications broadened the academic debate far
beyond the inherently shorter and more limited remit of the earlier
journal articles. Yet no account has yet been written that focuses primar-
ily on Qatar and the Arab Spring.
6
INTRODUCTION
â•… Two reasons lie behind the delay in chronicling the role played by
Qatar in shaping regional responses to the Arab Spring. The first is com-
mon to almost every other book or article that has been written on the
country and concerns the challenge of extracting insider information
from the famously closed circle of senior Qatari officials. This is a limita-
tion that has duly been noted by commentators both within Qatar and
around the world, and affects the present author just as it has others.
The second factor was the difficulty of analysing fast-moving events in a
process of change that was ongoing, unpredictable, and deeply uncertain
in terms of eventual endpoint. While the region remains in the throes
of considerable turmoil, the reassertion of authoritarian control in Egypt
and its entrenchment in Bahrain and Yemen have coincided with the
rolling back of revolutionary gains in Tunisia and Libya, and the tragic
escalation of Syria’s civil war to signal the end of the first post-2011
phase of political change in the Middle East and North Africa (MENA).
Moreover, the near-simultaneous change of leadership in Qatar itself
makes it an opportune moment to go beyond daily developments in
order to identify the deeper underlying trends in politics and policy-
making between late-2010 and mid-2013.
â•… The eruption of popular anger at the abuses of power and affronts to
human dignity and social justice by authoritarian and unresponsive
political regimes is far from over. The Arab Spring has generated power-
ful new symbols and myths that will inspire and animate future genera-
tions of activists. The shattering of sacrosanct “red lines” concerning the
boundaries of permissible political action and the assertion of individual
rights to protest cannot be undone any more than regimes can reverse
the cathartic effects of dismantling the “politics of fear” that security
services had constructed to shield unrepresentative leaders from public
accountability. For all of these reasons, the renewal of authoritarian
structures that marked the fight-back of vested political and economic
interests is unlikely to deliver a sustainable or stable return to the status
quo. Just as the challenges of political transition proved insurmountable
for the successor governments that took office in Cairo, Tunis and
Tripoli, so the sheer urgency of economic pressures will weigh increas-
ingly heavily on national and regional agendas for years to come.
â•… Qatar is less immune than most to these challenges, but alongside
transitions to new leadership, it faces the task of coming to terms with
and managing the impact of decisions taken during the Arab Spring. It
7
has become commonplace for observers of regional politics to use the
phrase “punching above its weight” to describe Qatar’s actions over the
past decade. In many cases, the epithet was not undeserved as the tiny
peninsula morphed into a regional player with a truly international
reach. Yet as Qatari policy became more expansive and ambitious, it
risked opening up a mismatch between intent and capability that was
already starting to emerge in diplomacy and mediation prior to the start
of the Arab Spring. As Qatari policy went into “overdrive” in the thirty
months of upheaval that followed, the top echelon of leaders within a
highly centralised decision-making framework inevitably began to show
signs of strain as the deadlock in Syria worsened and Qatar’s closeness to
the Muslim Brotherhood turned inexorably into more of a liability than
an asset. The result is a set of legacies that Emir Tamim and his new
government must grapple with as they “reset” Qatar’s ties with sceptical
partners in the GCC and across the wider region.
Structure of this Book

There are two parts to Qatar and the Arab Spring, each of three chapters.
Part I describes the political and economic background to the emer-
gence of contemporary Qatar while Part II examines the policy shifts
that underpinned Qatari engagement with the Arab Spring. Chapter
One explains how the processes of state formation and political consoli-
dation created a distinctive political economy heavily reliant on revenues
from the production and export of liquefied natural gas to a network of
partners around the world, but also conscious of the need to develop
innovative approaches to regional security agendas and policy-making.
Chapter Two focuses on state-branding and the leveraging of power and
influence to examine how Qatari officials took maximum advantage of
broader changes in the global order that opened up new opportunities
for small states in international affairs. It then looks at the five major
components of Qatar’s rise in the 2000s: Al Jazeera; the promotion of
Doha as an educational and cultural hub; the use of international sport-
ing events and global sports icons to put Qatar well and truly “on the
map;” the careful nurturing of Qatar’s place in the luxury travel and
tourism market, in part through the extraordinary expansion of Qatar
Airways; and the development of a niche reputation for clean energy
development designed to send a clear message to the international com-
8
INTRODUCTION
munity that Qatar is serious about the sustainable development of its
bountiful hydrocarbon resources.
â•… Chapter Three analyses the drivers and motivations of Qatari foreign
policy. It explains why and how Qatar’s flexible and independent
regional and foreign policy evolved since the mid-1990s, and managed
to balance relations with a wide variety of state and non-state actors.
During a period in which Qatar rose to international prominence as a
neutral actor in the region through its diplomatic mediation efforts in
Yemen, Lebanon, Darfur and elsewhere, the chapter also explores the
mechanics of Qatari policy-making and in particular its highly person-
alised and elite-level dimensions. An account of each of the four princi-
pal architects of Qatar’s regional and international engagement—Emir
Hamad bin Khalifa Al-Thani, Prime Minister Sheikh Hamad bin Jassim
Al-Thani, First Lady Sheikha Mozah bint Nasser al-Missned, and Heir
Apparent (and emir since June 2013) Sheikh Tamim bin Hamad
Al-Thani—closes Part I.
â•… Part II also consists of three chapters that document and explain
Qatar’s multifaceted role in the Arab Spring. Chapter Four examines
how and why Qatari officials quickly recognised the changing contours
of regional politics and pragmatically readjusted their policy responses.
A lack of domestic constraints and the fact that Qatari officials embraced
the direction of change meant they viewed the Arab Spring as an oppor-
tunity rather than a challenge. Making a stand over Libya offered Qatar
a relatively risk-free platform to demonstrate an alignment of values
with the international community in ways that resonated powerfully
with the country’s state-branding narratives and internationalisation
strategies, but the chapter ends by exploring the differentiated responses
to unrest closer to home in Bahrain and Yemen.
â•… Chapter Five explores Qatar’s intervention in Libya that ultimately
contributed to the toppling and death of Colonel Gaddafi, followed
swiftly by the attempt to engineer a similar downfall of the Bashar
Al-Assad regime in Syria. The apparent success of the Libyan “adventure”
led to a high-watermark of Qatari influence in late-2011, which seemed
to constitute the capstone on the country’s remarkable coming of age in
international affairs. However, as the Syrian intervention failed to prevent
a slide into violent civil war and evidence of the full extent of Qatar’s
shadowy involvement in Libya became more widely known, a regional
backlash against Qatari policies gathered pace. This forms the core of
9
Chapter Six, which considers the post-Arab Spring implications for
Qatar’s reputation as a diplomatic mediator, its loss of impartiality, the
mounting regional and even international scepticism of Doha’s motiva-
tions, and the unravelling of the series of risky gambles such as the deci-
sion to back the Muslim Brotherhood in North Africa and elsewhere.
Finally, the Epilogue looks at the likely direction of policy in Emir
Tamim’s Qatar and assesses the challenges that face the youthful leader
and his new government. These will likely result in an era of domestic
consolidation ahead of the 2022 FIFA World Cup and a recalibration of
foreign policy as Qatari officials focus on addressing socio-economic
issues at home and rebuilding damaged relations across the region.
10
PART I
1
HISTORICAL AND POLITICAL CONTEXT
Qatar’s rise to a position of international significance is rooted in its

possession of the world’s third-largest reserves of liquefied natural gas
(LNG) and the policies taken to deploy the resulting leverage. These
policies were conceived and implemented during the reign of Emir
Sheikh Hamad bin Khalifa Al-Thani (1995–2013) and his energetic
foreign minister (and prime minister between 2007 and 2013), Sheikh
Hamad bin Jassim Al-Thani. These two men emerged as the architects
of a strategy of aggressive internationalisation that put Qatar well and
truly on the global map as a dynamic new regional actor. Yet these deci-
sions also reflected a set of deeper trends underpinning Qatari regional
foreign and security policy, themselves rooted in processes of historical
and political formation. Chief among them were the challenges of
ensuring stability in a volatile regional environment and maintaining
political control over the dizzying pace of social and economic develop-
ment. Qatar also faced the vulnerabilities of a small state surrounded by
larger and more powerful neighbours, and was periodically subject to
phases of interference and even outright territorial contestation.
â•… This opening chapter examines the trajectories of state formation and
policy evolution that culminated in the takeover of power by Emir
Hamad on 27 June 1995. It argues that the legacies of internal and
Â€
external security and geostrategic challenges shaped the determination

of Emir Hamad’s leadership to seek a mixture of autonomy and interde-
13
pendence in policy-making. Moreover, it contextualises these moves
within the theoretical prisms of “omni-balancing” and “managed multi-
dependence” as developed by Gerd Nonneman and others. Finally, it
explains why the Qatari leadership chose to pursue strategies of political
decompression and economic liberalisation in the 1990s, as they sought
to adapt to the prolonged period of low oil prices and reformulate the
pillars of political legitimacy.
State Formation and Political Consolidation

Jutting out of the east coast of the Arabian Peninsula into the Persian
Gulf, Qatar was for centuries a regional backwater, largely isolated from
the land-based caravan and maritime trade routes that connected the
Levant with southern Mesopotamia and the Persian Empire. During the
early-eighteenth century, the famous migration of about thirty leading
families belonging to the powerful Bani Utub tribe stopped in the
Qatari peninsula for several years, before continuing the journey that
culminated in the founding of Kuwait in 1710.1 In addition to the
present-day ruling Al-Sabah family of Kuwait, the migrants included the
Al-Khalifa family, who returned to the Qatari peninsula in 1766 follow-
ing a split with the Al-Sabah family, and established a fort in Zubara on
its north-western coastline. It became the epicentre of a thriving pearling
and trading centre that took advantage of its proximity to some of the
richest pearl banks in the world, as well as its central location within the
Gulf itself. The Al-Khalifa family became wealthy pearl merchants in
Zubara and helped the town repulse periodic incursions launched by the
Persian governor of Bahrain.2
â•… In 1783, the Al-Khalifa family moved on again, to the nearby island
archipelago of Bahrain lying some twenty miles to the north-west of the
Qatari peninsula, where they settled and founded the ruling dynasty
that continues to this day. Their flight visibly demonstrated the fluidity
of identity and the porous nature of political authority in the nascent
communities emerging on the Arabian coastline of the Gulf. In the
pre-modern system, traditional tribal patterns of governance held sway
throughout the Arabian Peninsula. These reflected the loyalty of particu-
lar tribal groups and the extent of their roaming grounds that ebbed and
flowed over time. Thus, “sovereignty was seen in terms of people, not
territories” and the authority of any ruling sheikh “was characterised by
14
frailty, vulnerability, and precariousness.”3 Furthermore, as the case of
the Al-Khalifas choosing to leave Kuwait in 1766 demonstrated, the
readily available option of what Jill Crystal terms “exit” imposed signifi-
cant limitations on leading families’ exercise of power.4
â•… The ruling Al-Thani dynasty came to prominence in the Qatari pen-
insula in the mid-nineteenth century, after migrating from the Najd to
the Qatari coastline in the eighteenth century. Al-Thani rule started with
Sheikh Mohammed bin Thani, who ruled as the paramount local sheikh
between 1850 and 1878 and oversaw Qatar’s emergence as a distinct
political entity. He accomplished this through negotiation and agree-
ments both with potential rivals for power and stronger regional actors.
In 1847, he and his tribal family had moved to Doha from their ances-
tral village of Fuwairat and begun to consolidate power at the local level.
Having extended his influence throughout the peninsula, three years
later he secured important external recognition through an agreement
with his powerful neighbour Faisal bin Turki, the emir of the (second)
Saudi state, who subsequently visited Doha in 1851.5
â•… Sixteen years later in 1867, war broke out with the Al-Khalifa dynasty
in Bahrain, who retained residual claims on the peninsula they had left
eighty years before. A joint maritime force from Bahrain and the south-
ern Gulf sheikhdom of Abu Dhabi sailed to Qatar and sacked several
towns on its eastern coastline, including Wakrah. This violated the
British system of perpetual maritime truces that had been agreed with
the sheikhdoms of the lower Gulf, beginning with the General Maritime
Treaty in 1820 and continuing with the Perpetual Maritime Truce in
1853. As a result of the violation of these agreements, the British politi-
cal resident in the Persian Gulf, Colonel Lewis Pelly, travelled to Bahrain
and Qatar to reach (and impose) a settlement. In Qatar, he met with
Mohammed bin Thani as the representative of the Qatari people,
thereby marking “a milestone in the political evolution of Qatar” with
the Al-Thanis at the head of the nascent polity. It resulted in a written
agreement establishing a maritime treaty (as opposed to the protectorate
relations that came later, in 1916) and extending British recognition of
Qatar’s existence as an autonomous sheikhdom.6
â•… These two events—the final defeat of lingering Bahraini designs on
the Qatari peninsula, and the granting of international recognition to
the sheikhdom under the leadership of the Al-Thanis—had long-lasting
consequences. They represented an early indication of how a small state
15
could pursue strategies of survival by balancing internal and external
security needs to offset volatile regional trends. This was again in evi-
dence just four years later when, in 1871, an Ottoman force moved back
into the Arabian Peninsula and conquered the province of Al-Hasa
(today the Eastern Province of Saudi Arabia). Recognising the greater
strength of the new neighbouring power, Sheikh Jassim bin Mohammed
Al-Thani pragmatically accepted an Ottoman garrison on the peninsula
and, in turn, received Ottoman recognition as the qaim maqam (gover-
nor) of Qatar. This act of balancing relationships with the two major
regional powers to secure Qatari recognition (and security from Bahraini
territorial claims) earned Jassim bin Mohammed his reputation as the
architect of modern Qatari state formation.7
â•… Qatari relations with the Ottoman and British Empires formed the
external parameters for the processes of domestic consolidation that
subsequently took place. These processes were not always smooth, as
evidenced by an Ottoman attack on the peninsula led in part by the
future Emir of Kuwait, Sheikh Mubarak Al-Sabah, in 1893. Two
decades later, the pressures imposed by Britain’s declaration of war
against the Ottoman Empire in November 1914 forced another change
in Qatar’s external posture; Qatari and British interests in safeguarding
the security of the Persian Gulf converged in a treaty signed on
3 November 1916 which made Qatar a “British-protected state.” By this
Â€
time Qatar faced a new land-based threat on the Arabian Peninsula in

the form of the gradual accumulation of power by Abdul Aziz Al-Saud
following his seizure of Riyadh in 1902 and the extension of Saudi
power over Al-Hasa and up to the Qatari boundary in 1913. Thus, by
1916, Qatar’s need for explicit external protection complemented
Britain’s desire to secure its control over the coastline of the Arabian
Peninsula during the First World War, as it engaged in major military
operations against the Ottoman Empire at the head of the Persian Gulf
in Basra.8
â•… The signing of the treaty of protection with the United Kingdom
formally introduced the concept of the external security guarantee into
Qatari policy-making circles. With the exception of the turbulent and
traumatic decade following the eventual British withdrawal from its
Persian Gulf commitments in 1971, the promise of external protection
has formed the cornerstone of Qatari stability ever since, with Britain’s
gradual replacement by the United States in the 1980s and 1990s. Thus
16
the pragmatic balancing of power-relations, and the acknowledgement
that the security of small states in volatile environments depended on
external assistance, represented the twin strategies of Qatari survival as
the three paramount regional powers of Saudi Arabia, Iraq and Iran took
shape during the twentieth century.9
Internal and External Challenges

Like its counterparts in the Arab and Islamic worlds, state narratives in
Qatar must compete alongside supra- and sub-state visions and affilia-
tions. Organised religion and pan-Arab networks provide examples of
the former, while cross-border tribal and (increasingly) business connec-
tions constitute the latter. These are all important markers of personal
and social identity at an individual level. Together, they contribute to
the fluidity of identities and notions of belonging, and intertwine the
different levels of domestic, regional and international policy-making.
While these cross-border networks advanced rapidly in the late-1990s
with the Qatari emir’s establishment of Al Jazeera in 1996, they did
predate the rise of what Marc Lynch labelled “the new Arab public
sphere.”10 Indeed, a powerful early instance of the intense trans-nation-
alism of the ties binding local and international events came in the
response to the Great Depression and its local impact on Persian Gulf
societies and economies.
â•… The pre-oil economy was dominated by the pearl industry. It struc-
tured social relationships and hierarchies within a segmented labour
force broken up into merchant-moneylenders, the ship captains (nakho-
das), and the divers and haulers who undertook the dangerous tasks of
collecting the pearls from the seabed, as well as spawning a derivative
service economy that supported and sustained it. Not for nothing has
the pearl become the heritage symbol of the modern Gulf states, found
on banknotes and monuments throughout the region and fondly
recalled in sanitised folk histories that frequently downplay its harshness,
inequalities and dangers to life and limb. Doha’s own large sculpture of
an open oyster shell, Pearl Monument, is prominently situated opposite
the central tourist attraction of Souq Waqif.11 Prior to the discovery of
oil in the 1930s and the commencement of exports in the 1940s, pearl-
ing constituted the major economic activity for decades, and its sudden
demise created conditions of real hardship. This occurred in the space of
17
just a few years after the onset of the Great Depression in 1929, as the
international demand for pearls collapsed, while the introduction of
Japanese cultured pearls left Gulf producers unable to compete on cost.
One chronicler of Qatar described it as “a disaster which almost over-
night removed the one export on which the people of the Gulf could
rely to bring in foreign earnings.”12
â•… Qatari (and other Gulf states’) reliance on a single economic sector
for the majority of incoming revenues curiously foreshadowed their later
dependence upon oil receipts. Although the pearling and oil industries
are completely different in scale, organisation and economic linkages,
they both represented volatile streams that fluctuated according to exter-
nal factors and international demand, both of which were beyond the
control of local officials. Yet in Qatar, the impact of the collapse of the
pearling industry was magnified manifold by the near-absence of any
other form of economic activity, as it lacked the entrepot trade of
Kuwait or Dubai. Their greater dependence on pearling had dramatic
results, as Crystal estimates that up to half of the population chose to
emigrate during the decade that elapsed between the end of the pearl era
and the onset of the oil era. They included many members of the busi-
ness class: only two major merchant families—the Darwish and the al-
Mani—remained behind.13
â•… This extreme manifestation of the option to “exit” came at a critical
moment in modern Qatari history. It overlapped with the establishment
of the oil industry and the growing realisation that bounded territorial-
ity—hitherto less important than concepts of tribal affiliation and loy-
alty—would become integral to the system of oil concessions being
drawn up at the time. The Qatari petroleum concession was signed in
May 1935 (with oil itself being discovered in 1939). It transferred the
rights for producing, transporting, refining and marketing oil and gas to
an associate company of the Iraq Petroleum Company (itself a subsid-
iary of the Anglo-Persian Oil Company) named Petroleum Development
(Qatar) Ltd for a period of seventy-five years.14 However, the juncture
of domestic weakness and potential riches heightened Qatari vulnerabil-
ity to the expansionary designs of the newly-unified Kingdom of Saudi
Arabia. This period of instability culminated in 1935 with King Abdul
Aziz Al-Saud “informing” the ruler of Qatar, Sheikh Abdullah bin
Jassim Al-Thani (who reigned from 1913 to 1949), that the inhabitants
of the peninsula were part of “his” tribal territory and thus owed alle-
18
giance to the Saudi state. The claim alarmed British officials as it would
have violated their oil and security sphere of interest in the Gulf, and it
resulted in an updated agreement to protect Qatar from internal as well
as external threats.15
â•… The export of oil from Qatar commenced in 1949, following an
enforced hiatus in (British) exploration efforts during the Second World
War. Production increased rapidly, and the sudden inflow of revenues
quickly transformed the economic and social conditions of what had
hitherto been one of the poorest regions of the Arabian Peninsula.
Under an agreement brokered by Sheikh Ahmed bin Ali Al-Thani (ruler
between 1960 and 1972), oil revenues were divided equally between the
state and the Al-Thanis, with 25 per cent going to the ruler, 25 per cent
to his family, and 50 per cent to the treasury.16 Nevertheless, as the
stakes of exerting control rose, the period from the 1950s to the 1970s
was also a time of prolonged political upheaval and uncertainty within
the ruling family. Enforced successions occurred in 1960, when Sheikh
Ali bin Abdullah Al-Thani abdicated in favour of his son Sheikh Ahmed
bin Ali Al-Thani, and again in 1972, when the latter was deposed by his
cousin, Sheikh Khalifa bin Hamad Al-Thani, as royal factionalism pro-
liferated.17 By the time that Sheikh Khalifa assumed power, Qatari
institutions were suffering from neglect and badly needed reorganis-
ing—a state of affairs epitomised by Sheikh Ahmed’s remarkable deci-
sion to remain on holiday in Switzerland instead of returning to his
capital when Qatar gained full independence as a sovereign state on
3 September 1971. Domestic discontent was rising too, as the entire
Â€
Mahandah tribe of 6,000 members refused to pledge an oath of alle-

giance (bay’ah) to the ruler and sought refuge in Kuwait instead.18
â•… This political turmoil exacerbated the new set of regional and inter-
national challenges that faced Qatar and the other small Gulf states on
the eve of independence. On 16 January 1968, British Prime Minister
Â€
Harold Wilson suddenly and unexpectedly announced that the United

Kingdom could no longer afford the £12 million upkeep of its military
positions in the Persian Gulf, and that consequently it would withdraw
its forces by the end of 1971. His decision represented a complete volte-
face as, only two months earlier, the Foreign Office Minister Goronwy
Roberts had toured the Gulf to reassure its rulers that rumours of a
British withdrawal were baseless. Faced with the imminent loss of their
external guarantor of security, Sheikh Ahmed bin Ali joined with the
19
rulers of Abu Dhabi and Dubai in offering to pay for the continuing
presence of British troops themselves.19 Their offer elicited a highly
offensive and condescending outburst from the left-wing secretary of
defence Denis Healey (for which he later apologised) that: “I don’t very
much like the idea of being a sort of white slaver for the Arab sheikhs …
I think it would be a very great mistake if we allowed ourselves to
become mercenaries for people who would like to have a few British
troops around.”20
â•… Although Britain’s Conservative Opposition condemned the Labour
Government for its abrupt reversal of policy, and initially hinted that
they would reassess it if and when they came to power, Edward Heath’s
subsequent Conservative Government confirmed the withdrawal time-
table upon taking office in 1970. This left the rulers of the smaller Gulf
states scrambling to make alternative arrangements to secure their sov-
ereignty after the British finally left. Reacting to an announcement that
Abu Dhabi and Dubai had agreed to unite, Sheikh Ahmed bin Ali put
forward a plan to create a Union of Arab Emirates encompassing the
seven Trucial States (the modern United Arab Emirates) and Bahrain, in
addition to Qatar. This built upon existing linkages between Qatar and
Dubai, both dynastic through intermarriage between the Al-Thani and
Al-Maktoum families—Sheikh Ahmed bin Ali married the daughter of
Sheikh Rashid of Dubai—and as a result of a common currency agreed
in 1966, which resulted in the creation of the Qatar and Dubai Riyal
(QDR).21 On 27 February 1968, the Dubai Agreement established in
Â€
principle a nine-member union. Substantive negotiations followed over

the next two years, covering issues such as constitutional arrangements,
the pooling of sovereignty, institutional and political representation and
the location of a capital. A major obstacle, however, was Qatar’s refusal
to accept Bahraini domination of the proposed union, and no common
agreement could be found. Thus, in August and September 1971,
Bahrain and then Qatar declared unilateral independence, while six of
the seven Trucial States formed the United Arab Emirates in November
with Ras al-Khaimah eventually joining in 1972.22
A Decade of Transition
As a newly-independent state, a member of the United Nations and the
Arab League, and shorn of external protection, Qatar entered into a
20
highly volatile regional environment. The smaller Gulf states were
intensely vulnerable to predatory actions by their larger and more estab-
lished neighbours. The Iraqi prime minister, Abd al-Karim Qasim,
declared Kuwait to be an “integral part” of Iraq immediately after its
independence in 1961, necessitating the hasty return of 7,000 British
troops (quickly replaced by an Arab League force) to forestall any puta-
tive invasion.23 Iran also maintained territorial designs on the smaller
Gulf states, namely Bahrain (a dispute which was settled by a United
Nations mission in April 1970, conclusively finding that Bahrainis
favoured becoming an independent Arab state), and three islands in the
Strait of Hormuz belonging to Sharjah and Ras al-Khaimah. Alarmingly
for Gulf rulers, the Shah of Iran ordered his troops to take the islands
(Abu Musa and the Greater and Lesser Tunbs) the day before Britain’s
formal departure, thereby exacerbating rulers’ fears for their survival
without the protection of a great power.24
â•… The decade that followed was a highly dangerous period for the
newly-independent states, caught between Iraq, Iran, and the forces of
revolutionary modernisation that gained a foothold on the Arabian
Peninsula. The period of greatest uncertainty lasted from Britain’s mili-
tary withdrawal on 30 November 1971 until President Jimmy Carter’s
Â€
proclamation of the Carter Doctrine on 23 January 1980. This began

Â€
the process of restoring the external security guarantee as it committed

the United States to defending its strategic interests in the Persian Gulf
“by any means necessary, including military force.” Yet during the inter-
vening eight years, threats and challenges intermixed dynamically at the
national, regional and international levels. They included the physical
and ideational danger posed by the ten-year Marxist rebellion in the
Omani province of Dhofar (1965–75), supported by the People’s
Democratic Republic of Yemen as well as Soviet and Chinese sponsors.
Their material and ideological assistance to the Popular Front for the
Liberation of Oman and the Arabian Gulf (PFLOAG) as it sought to
spread its revolutionary objectives unnerved Gulf rulers and heightened
their sense of vulnerability. So too did evidence of direct Ba’athist Iraqi
involvement in a coup against the ruler of Sharjah in 1973 and
Baghdad’s hosting of revolutionary PFLOAG cells in the mid-1970s.25
â•… Toward the end of the 1970s, regional threats escalated dramatically.
The Islamic revolution in Iran in 1978–9 resulted in the overthrow of
the Shah and his replacement by a radical clerical regime initially intent
21
on exporting its revolution to neighbouring states. This posed a direct
threat both to the domestic security and regional stability of the states
of the Arabian Peninsula, although its ideological dimension was less
pronounced in Qatar than in Saudi Arabia, Bahrain and Kuwait owing
to its very much smaller Shiite population. Nevertheless, the new Islamic
Republic did reject the regional status quo and presented a challenge to
the legitimacy of the ruling families in the Gulf. Ayatollah Khomeini
himself stated that monarchical and secular-nationalist forms of gover-
nance were incompatible with the requirements of “Islamic governance.”
For Gulf rulers, the threat from Iran was therefore multifaceted and
operated at the trans-national and inter-cultural, as well as at the tradi-
tional inter-state level.26
â•… Khomeini’s rise to power in Iran also signalled the ignominious end
of the United States’ “Twin Pillars” policy of ensuring the stability of the
Persian Gulf by working with the conservative and monarchical bul-
warks of Iran and Saudi Arabia. The Iraqi invasion of Iran in September
1980 reinforced the need to reorder a regional system that had irretriev-
ably broken down. Relations between Iraq and the Gulf monarchies
had, in fact, undergone a gradual rapprochement after 1975 as Iraqi
foreign policy shed its revolutionary socialist strand and became more
pragmatic, as Saddam Hussein prioritised pan-Arabism in a bid for
regional leadership. The normalisation of Iraq’s relations with its Arab
neighbours also accelerated following the ostracism of Egypt in the Arab
world after the Camp David accords in 1979, and as the perception of
a common threat from revolutionary Iran drew them closer together.27
â•… In response to this worrying turn of events, Qatar joined with the
other five “Gulf States” (Bahrain, Kuwait, Oman, Saudi Arabia and the
United Arab Emirates) to establish the Gulf Cooperation Council
(GCC) in a meeting in Abu Dhabi on 25 May 1981. Its creation was an
Â€
immediate and ad hoc reaction to the situation of profound uncertainty

confronting the region, as evidenced in the extraordinary speed with
which the GCC took shape. In the space of just three months between
February and May, the six countries agreed on its broad goals and objec-
tives, its founding charter and institutional design.28 In the opinion of
the eminent UAE political scientist and commentator, Abdulkhaleq
Abdulla, “this speedy implementation of the yet-to-be-refined and com-
prehended ideas of cooperation only confirms the widely-held belief that
the GCC was more of a hasty reaction than a calculated initiative.”29
22
â•… The new body was neither a political nor a military alliance, and it
lacked an integrative supra-national decision-making institution for the
sharing of sovereignty, akin to the European Commission. It had no
explicit treaty-based foreign policy-making power as the Charter called
only for a coordination of foreign policy and political cooperation. Its
member governments retained responsibility for almost all aspects of
political and economic policy, and resisted any putative limitations on
their sovereignty.30 Saudi Arabia apart, the other five members were still
young nations in the process of state and bureaucratic consolidation, and
they were also wary of the potential for Saudi dominance or hegemony
within the new organisation. The smaller states’ fears were exacerbated
by the fact that in terms of population, size of armed forces, intra-
regional trade flows and geostrategic importance, “Saudi Arabia is so
clearly the largest power in the Southern Gulf that some of the smaller
Gulf States see the Kingdom as a potential hegemon or threat.”31 In part
to obviate this imbalance of power, the GCC presented itself from the
beginning as a cautious status quo entity that intended to shield its
member states and societies from the trans-national and unconventional
threat of the spill-over of instability from Iran and Iraq.32
Oil and Gas

The tenth anniversary in 1981 of the independence of Qatar, Bahrain
and the UAE, and the twentieth anniversary of Kuwait’s passage to state-
hood came, therefore, at a moment of great tumult for the newly-
formed GCC. Processes of state formation and institutional consolida-
Â€
tion were still ongoing, and were taking place against the backdrop of
the unprecedentedly rapid transformation of society and economy dur-
ing the oil-price boom that took place between 1973 and 1982. Major
new Qatari oilfields were discovered in the 1960s and the largest off-
shore field, Bul Hanine, became operational in 1972. Qatar’s oil sector
was nationalised in stages between 1973 and 1977, and the Qatar
General Petroleum Company (today Qatar Petroleum) was established
in 1974.
â•… In the late-1970s, Qatar also took control of the giant North Field,
the largest non-associated natural gas field in the world, following the
demarcation of the offshore Qatar-Iran boundary in 1969. This would
eventually become the critical driver of Qatar’s startling emergence as a
23
regional power with international reach in the 2000s, but at the time its
significance was muted as the Qatar General Petroleum Company
lacked the financial and technical expertise to develop the field. It also
introduced a new sensitivity into Qatari regional policy, as the North
Field was part of a larger formation that straddled the Iranian border
(and was known as the South Pars field in Iran). During the 1980s the
Iran-Iraq war impeded its development as investors and potential con-
sumers (especially Japan) were nervous about becoming overly reliant on
natural gas from such a regional flashpoint.33
â•… As oil prices soared following the 1973 Arab-Israeli war and the sub-
sequent Arab oil embargo, so the revenues pouring into Gulf treasuries
multiplied. In common with its regional neighbours, oil rents were used
to create an all-encompassing welfare state, as the government became a
distributor rather than an extractor of wealth to its citizenry. The average
price of crude oil surged from $2.04 a barrel in 1971 to a high of $32.50
in 1981 as a second spike followed the 1973 rise in prices in 1979–80
in the wake of the Iranian revolution and outbreak of the Iran-Iraq war.
Simultaneously, the six Gulf states’ combined crude oil production rose
by 77 per cent between 1970 and 1980, resulting in a massive inflow of
oil revenues, which increased from $5.2 billion to $158 billion during
the period.34 They entered into a society, however, still characterised by
poverty and under-development, with low absorptive and human capac-
ity to manage the sudden wealth—as recently as 1970, two-thirds of the
population of Qatar over the age of fifteen was reported to be illiterate
in the census of that year.35
â•… Receipt of these rents was synchronous with the creation of modern
infrastructure and institution building, which became intertwined in the
redistributive (“rentier”) economies which emerged in each Gulf state.
With less than 50,000 Qatari nationals in the 1970s, government rev-
enues could lavishly be distributed on a scale comparable to Kuwait and
the United Arab Emirates. Accordingly, a comprehensive system of
welfare programmes and social services, such as free education, medical
care and low-cost housing, was developed for Qataris, and a low-cost
labouring class was imported to undertake the menial tasks of construct-
ing and maintaining the national infrastructure.36 In addition, direct
lines of patronage linked the ruler to his citizenry in the form of grants
of land and interest-free loans to develop it, and a government stipend
for Qatari men who married Qatari women. Significantly, these were
24
(and remain) distributed through the Emiri Diwan, thereby creating “a
process through which the Emir’s patronage is reinforced both symboli-
cally and practically.”37
â•… None of the above was unique to Qatar alone, as similar rent-seeking
pathologies afflicted all the other Gulf states as they embarked upon the
socio-economic transformation into rentier economies. Inevitably, in
each case, the influx of such enormous (and relatively sudden) wealth
overstrained the absorption capacity of local institutions, and led to
examples of financial extravagance, mismanagement, corruption and
fiscal irresponsibility.38 In her seminal account of The Making of the
Modern Gulf States, Rosemarie Said Zahlan noted how “the abrupt tran-
sition from poverty to extreme wealth took the Qataris by surprise,”
adding that in the 1960s the ruler (Sheikh Ahmed bin Ali) “was allo-
cated one-quarter of Qatar’s oil revenues for his personal use.”39
â•… The creation of a bureaucratic state framework helped to overcome
some of the more paternalistic aspects of governance and alleviate most
of these excesses of power and authority. However, in common with all
other Gulf states, workers’ demands for political and economic rights
proliferated as oil revenues flooded in. In Qatar, these took the form of
a petition in 1963 that contained thirty-five demands for reform. One
of the most prominent and vocal advocates of change, Dr Ali Khalifa Â€
Al-Kuwari, who worked in Qatar’s oil and gas sector as vice chairman of
the Qatar Liquefied Gas Company and as vice chairman of the National
Company for Petroleum Products before joining Qatar University as a
professor of economics, described what happened next:
Strikes, imprisonments and expulsions that preceded it and the subsequent
pledge by the then ruler to enact reform and ratify the majority of the petition’s
demands. Demands for reform did not stop there, however, but continued at a
lower intensity … before finally emerging into the light in 1992 in the form of
two petitions. The most important of these petitions’ demands was the election
of a consultative council, appointed and tasked to draw up a permanent con-
stitution. As a result of this, the signatories were punished with prison sen-
tences, travel bans, the denial of their rights and the threat to rescind their
Qatari citizenship.40
â•… Oil prices peaked in 1981 and then began a steady decline as reduced
international demand and over-production created a glut on the market.
This then accelerated into a price collapse in 1986, when prices bot-
tomed out at just below $10 a barrel. As a producer country heavily
25
reliant on the export of oil for the great majority of its government
revenues, the falls hit Qatar hard. The budget went into deficit in 1985
and, according to the Planning Council, only recorded one surplus (in
the fiscal year 1990–1) during the next fifteen years up to 2000.41
Although not as sharp as the downturn in neighbouring Saudi Arabia
which witnessed seventeen consecutive years of budget deficit, including
one of 19 per cent of GDP in 1991,42 the slump caused a prolonged
economic decline, and placed great strain on the social contract that
underpinned the redistribution of wealth and the provision of jobs to
Qatari nationals in return for political quiescence and social stability.
Indeed, during the mid-1980s, the emir (Sheikh Khalifa bin Hamad
Al-Thani) was forced to implement hitherto unprecedented austerity
measures that included cuts to departmental budgets and public employÂ�
ment, and the introduction of charges for electricity, water and health-
care.43 In response, political opposition began to become more organised
and debates over Qatari development policies grew more vocal, particu-
larly as real per capita gross domestic product more than halved, from
$31,100 in 1984 to $15,070 in 1994.44
The Rise of Sheikh Hamad bin Khalifa Al-Thani

As the 1980s progressed, the emir granted more and more day-to-day
control of economic and political affairs to his son and heir apparent,
Sheikh Hamad bin Khalifa Al-Thani. In addition to his duties as minis-
ter of defence and commander-in-chief of the Qatari armed forces,
Sheikh Hamad was given responsibility (in the early 1980s) for running
the Supreme Planning Council and setting the direction of economic
and social policy planning. Subsequently, in May 1989 he became the
chairman of the Higher Council for Planning, and started to assume
ever-greater control over the daily running of governmental affairs as the
emir stepped back from a direct role. Sheikh Hamad’s modern education
and professional training (as a graduate from Sandhurst military college
in the United Kingdom) differentiated him from the earlier generation
of Gulf rulers who guided their countries to independence but struggled
with the challenges of constructing and consolidating bureaucratic and
institutional frameworks.45 This was the case in Qatar in the 1970s and
1980s, where the existence of a provisional constitution (from 1972) and
small advisory council did not, in practice, contribute to governing
26
arrangements, which continued to be the preserve of the emir and a
small circle of close family members and key advisers.46
â•… In the late-1980s and early-1990s, a series of regional events contrib-
uted to a growing clamour for a new and more dynamic approach to
policy-making. The conclusion of the Iran-Iraq war in August 1988
removed the major geopolitical obstacle to developing the giant gas
reserves contained in the North Field. Almost exactly two years later, the
Iraqi invasion of Kuwait in August 1990 once again dramatically
exposed the vulnerabilities of small states to the rapacious designs of
their larger neighbours. Yet the international coalition that mobilised so
rapidly to condemn the invasion, and subsequently to go to war to liber-
ate Kuwait, carried a significant lesson of its own. This was that states
with tangible interdependencies and powerful international partners
could count on their support during a time of crisis. Never was this
more apparent than during the critical early days after the invasion,
when the sceptics inside the George H.W. Bush administration who
Â€
suggested that the United States should accept the Iraqi invasion as a fait
accompli were convincingly and quickly overruled.47
â•… Qatari troops participated in the thirty-four-country multinational
coalition that liberated Kuwait in the 1991 Gulf War. They fought
alongside the Saudi Arabian National Guard in one notable engagement
at the Battle of Khafiji in late-January in order to repel an Iraqi incur-
sion into Saudi Arabia itself. Fighting together as part of the joint Arab
forces under the command of the Saudi general Prince Khalid bin Sultan
bin Abdul-Aziz, the campaign marked the high-watermark of GCC
military cooperation. Just two years later, a series of violent boundary
clashes with Saudi Arabia served as a direct reminder of the security
limitations of small states, as did allegations from Riyadh that Qatar had
used the Gulf War as a pretext to advance its boundary fourteen kilome-
tres into Saudi territory.48 The border skirmishes began in response to
Saudi road construction close to the boundary, and armed clashes in
October 1992 led to the death of two members of the Qatari armed
forces while Qatari soldiers were also forced to withdraw from their
border positions. Qatar’s concerns for its territorial sovereignty were
only partly alleviated by the signing of a Defence Cooperation
Agreement with the United States in the same year, marking the begin-
ning of Qatar’s formal incorporation into the American regional security
structure.49 Together, the three events between 1988 and 1992—the
ending of the Iran-Iraq war, the Iraqi invasion of Kuwait, and the
27
renewed military threat from Saudi Arabia—contributed to the clamour
for a change of Qatari policy.
â•… Against this backdrop of external threat, relations between the emir
and the heir apparent deteriorated rapidly in 1992 after Sheikh Hamad
undertook a cabinet reshuffle that replaced several of his father’s most
loyal supporters with his own appointments and trusted allies. The most
notable promotion was that of Hamad bin Jassim bin Jabir Al-Thani to
Foreign Minister, a position he would hold for twenty-one years and in
which capacity he became, along with Sheikh Hamad, the twin architect
of Qatar’s international breakthrough.50 Although by this time Sheikh
Hamad was de facto the leader exercising political authority and control
over government business, the uneasy stasis lasted until 27 June 1995.
Â€
Then, taking advantage of his father’s absence on a visit to Switzerland,

Sheikh Hamad formally asserted control in a bloodless palace coup.
Sheikh Khalifa denounced the coup as “the abnormal action of an igno-
rant man” while Sheikh Hamad claimed that certain circumstances,
which he did not elaborate on further, had forced him to act.51
â•… Sheikh Hamad’s action continued a clear trend within the modern
history of the Al-Thanis in which the major source of contestation lay
within family factions rather than within an overwhelmingly apolitical
society. It marked the fourth successive incidence of a contested succes-
sion dating back to 1913 after enforced abdications in 1949 and 1960
and the outright takeover of power in 1972. Nevertheless, incipient
signs of societal politicisation in the midst of the long years of economic
deficit exacerbated the generational frustration at the conservatism of
economic and hydrocarbon development. Significantly, the above-
mentioned petitions signed by fifty-four prominent Qatari citizens call-
ing for Sheikh Khalifa to introduce greater political liberty, freedom of
the media, and elections to the advisory council reportedly played a key
role in convincing Sheikh Hamad that a radically new approach (and
change of leader) was necessary.52
â•… The deposed emir went into exile in France and reportedly took with
him an estimated $3.5 billion from the state treasury, highlighting the
problematic distinction between the financial assets of the ruler and of
the state. Remarkably, this was not the first time a ruler had decamped
in this way, as both Sheikh Abdullah bin Jassim (in 1949) and Sheikh
Ali bin Adullah (in 1960) had done the same when they left power.
However, in 1995 Sheikh Hamad opted to contest his father’s multi-
28
billion dollar appropriation, leading to an eventual out of court settle-
ment.53 Relations between father and son subsequently improved to the
extent that Sheikh Khalifa was able to return to Qatar in October 2004
(on the occasion of the death of his wife) and to remain and take the
honorific title “Father Emir” (“amir al-ab”).54
Challenges Facing the New Emir

The new emir faced a combination of internal and external challenges.
His accession occurred during the middle of the prolonged period of
low oil prices and the budget deficits described above. If there ever was
any period in Qatar’s modern history in which the political economy of
the redistributive state was under serious strain, this was it. Moreover,
oil prices continued to fall for three years after Sheikh Hamad took
power, reaching historic lows in early-1998, and leading to pessimistic
assumptions that the “resources-demands” equation had swung deci-
sively against Gulf monarchs.55 Sheikh Hamad’s takeover was not wel-
comed in other GCC capitals, which did not immediately recognise his
legitimacy as ruler and whose leaders continued to receive the newly-
exiled Sheikh Khalifa in their palaces. This led to stormy scenes at the
annual GCC summit in Muscat in December 1995, when the Qatari
delegation walked out of the closing session and declared their intent to
boycott all future meetings attended by the newly-appointed (Saudi)
secretary-general, Jamil al-Hujailan, and even reportedly considered
cancelling their membership of the GCC altogether.56 Notably, this
period was one of recurring tension between Qatar and the other GCC
states, as Bahrain boycotted the following year’s GCC summit, held in
Doha in December 1996, as tempers in the long-running offshore
boundary dispute between Bahrain and Qatar flared.57
â•… Rather more serious to the new leadership was an alleged Saudi-
backed counter-coup attempt in February 1996 designed to reinstall
Sheikh Khalifa as emir. Among those involved was a senior member of
the Al-Thanis, the new emir’s cousin (and minister of economy) Sheikh
Hamad bin Jassim bin Hamad Al-Thani, who was sentenced to life
imprisonment along with thirty-two others in 2000.58 Sheikh Khalifa
retained the sympathy (and at times the active support) of most of the
other GCC leaders and this caused considerable initial friction between
the new government in Doha and Saudi Arabia, Bahrain and Abu Dhabi
29
(Khalifa’s new home in exile).59 It also created considerable domestic
unease: nineteen people (of whom eighteen were Qatari nationals) were
sentenced to death for their involvement in the coup attempt; while in
June 2005 following a second counter-coup attempt, also said to be
instigated by Saudi Arabia, up to 5,000 members of the al-Ghafran clan
of the influential Bani Murra tribe were stripped of their citizenship
and, in some cases, expelled from Qatar in retaliation for the involve-
ment of some of their members in both affairs.60 Their traditional tribal
territory spanned both sides of the Saudi-Qatari border and included
influential sub-tribal groupings in each country. The Qatari government
argued that they possessed Saudi citizenship, illustrating further the
fluidity of notions of belonging and identity, and the vulnerabilities
these could present during times of crisis.61
â•… The long-running saga of the Saudi-Qatari boundary encapsulated
the veritable “minefield” of sensitivities that the new ruler had to navi-
gate vis-à-vis his much larger neighbour. The two countries had signed
a border agreement in 1965 but it was never properly ratified, and was
cancelled by Qatar after the aforementioned boundary skirmishes in
October 1992 which continued sporadically into 1993. A common
border was later agreed upon in June 1999 with maps delineating the
sixty kilometres of land and sea boundaries, and a formal agreement
being reached by the respective foreign ministers in March 2001.62 Yet
even this ostensible resolution to a thirty-five-year dispute was not
finally subjected to international ratification until March 2009 when
Qatar and Saudi Arabia signed a border demarcation agreement at the
United Nations after high-level negotiations. Remarkably this was not
the end of the story, as observers reported in early-2011 that the Qatari-
Saudi land border appeared to have changed yet again; Riyadh allegedly
ceded the south side of the Khor al-Udeid inlet to Qatar, possibly in
return for Doha allowing Saudi boats access through Qatari waters to a
port that Riyadh plans to construct on the narrow strip of Gulf coastline
it controls between Qatar and the UAE.63 Should this be the case, it
would be seen by Abu Dhabi as a controversial and highly provocative
move, as the triangular issue of Saudi-Qatari-Emirati access to the Gulf
has long been a bone of contention among the three countries.
â•… Sheikh Hamad therefore faced a twofold task in his first years as emir.
Domestically, the consolidation of control over the entirety of the ruling
family was more pressing than the rest of Qatari society, as it was the
30
former that represented the primary challenge to his power. Regionally,
he faced the task of becoming accepted in the “club of monarchs” and
preventing the deteriorating relationships with Saudi Arabia in particu-
lar and Bahrain (over the disputed Hawar Islands) from developing into
an overt threat to Qatari security. The February 1996 counter-coup
highlighted how intertwined the internal and external dimensions of
policy-making were, and also made clear the need to offset some of these
threats by appealing to a third level: the international. It was the United
States that provided the crucial external backing for the June 1995 take-
over and immediately recognised the new emir, in stark contrast to the
recalcitrance of Qatar’s Gulf neighbours. The former acting dean of the
Georgetown School of Foreign Service in Qatar, Mehran Kamrava, cor-
rectly observed how the international angle reinforced the new emir’s
determination to make a clear break with the past, noting that: “Although
there was some local support for this apparent liberalization project,
Sheikh Hamad’s primary audience was made up of international actors,
particularly the United States.”64
â•… Once in power, the new emir quickly moved ahead with measures
that introduced a degree of political reform and (rather more) economic
liberalisation. These began with the abolition of censorship over the
media in 1995 and the establishment of the Al Jazeera satellite television
network the following year, and continued with the unprecedented dis-
mantling of the Ministry of Information in March 1998, the introduc-
tion of quadrennial elections to a twenty-nine member Central
Municipal Council in March 1999 and the adoption of a new constitu-
tion by popular referendum in April 2003.65 This replaced the provi-
sional 1972 constitution, and it granted universal suffrage for all adult
Qataris while guaranteeing the protection of civil, political and social
rights. These in turn were followed by reforms to the judicial and edu-
cational system and to Qatari labour laws in 2004.66 In addition, Sheikh
Hamad initiated steps to liberalise the Qatari economy, particularly in
the energy sector, to attract greater levels of foreign direct investment
(FDI) and involve foreign technological expertise in developing the
LNG and associated projects, such as gas-to-liquids (GTL).67 These built
upon the accelerated development of the North Field gas field, which
began in earnest soon after Hamad took power, and came to rely heavily
on partnerships with international partners.
â•… During the multi-year investment programme, Qatar spent more
than $120 billion on its LNG infrastructure, the majority of which it
31
borrowed from banks and industry partners such as ExxonMobil.68 The
first export of LNG cargo took place in 1995 and the pace of develop-
ment was such that in 2006 Qatar overtook Indonesia to become the
largest exporter of LNG in the world. In December 2010, production
reached its developmental target of 77 million tons per year, by which
time Qatar accounted for between 25 and 30 per cent of global LNG
exports.69 The majority of the cargoes are locked into long-term agree-
ments with East Asian economies, including China, South Korea and
Japan, but Qatar has also become indispensable to the energy security
of the United Kingdom. The first LNG cargo from Ras Laffan Industrial
City was only dispatched to the South Hook LNG terminal at Milford
Haven in Wales in March 2009, but already by November 2010 the
100th cargo was delivered. By 2011 Britain was almost totally reliant
upon Qatari LNG imports, which accounted for 90 per cent of incom-
ing cargoes received during the year.70
â•… The economic bonanza brought about by the LNG exports returned
the economy to surplus after 2001 and further increased the autonomy
of the leadership regarding its neighbours and its society. It made pos-
sible a more assertive regional policy as Qatar moved ahead with the
unilateral development of its portion of the North Field reserve, in con-
trast to Iran’s wish in the early-1990s that development be conducted
jointly by the two countries.71 Domestically, and in sharp contrast to the
post-1999 reforms initiated by Emir (later King) Hamad bin Isa
Al-Khalifa in neighbouring Bahrain, the Qatari reforms did not come
about in response to any sustained pressure from internal constituencies
or civil society mobilisation. Rather, they formed part of an early effort
to distinguish Qatari policy from that of its neighbours, as the new
leadership identified a niche that afforded the opportunity to gain
regional headway at little cost to their power or position. This was evi-
dent in comments made by the Qatari foreign minister (and later prime
minister), Sheikh Hamad bin Jassim Al-Thani, to CBS News in May
2001: “Democracy has started. Either the leaders like or they don’t like
it. Either you open the door or they break the door. It’s a matter of time,
in my opinion.”72
â•… During the early-2000s, Qatar also settled its troubled territorial dis-
pute with Bahrain. As mentioned above, this had been a running sore
between the two countries ever since they both opted out of the British-
sponsored nine-emirate union in favour of full independence in 1971.
32
Remarkably, it took twenty-six years for diplomatic relations to be estab-
lished between Doha and Manama, but even after this took place in
March 1997 bilateral ties remained frosty, with Bahrain rejecting Qatar’s
initial choice of ambassador, and the Qataris admitting that they had
based at least a part of their territorial claim to the Hawar Islands on
documents that were not only inauthentic but apparently also “non-
existent.”73 Ironically in view of their later focus on diplomatic media-
tion, it took the arbitration of the UAE president and ruler of Abu
Dhabi, Sheikh Zayed bin Sultan Al-Nahyan, to bring the parties
together in 1998 and pave the way toward a final settlement. This finally
occurred as the arrival of a new ruler in Manama in 1999 complemented
the generational shift that had already taken place in Doha in 1995. The
eponymous Sheikh Hamads forged a working relationship that had
eluded their fathers, and generated a momentum that lasted until the
International Court of Justice issued its verdict on 16 March 2001.
Â€
Importantly, both sides accepted and welcomed the ruling, which gave
the Hawar Islands to Bahrain while confirming that the town of
Zubarah belonged to Qatar.74
â•… The following two chapters in Part I of this book examine the details
and motivations of Qatari policy-making during the later 1990s and
2000s. They centre on state-branding and the leveraging of power and
influence (Chapter Two) and a precise examination of the drivers of
foreign policy-making (Chapter Three). Before continuing, it is impor-
tant to draw together the dominant patterns that together shaped the
new direction taken by Sheikh Hamad after 1995. As this chapter has
made clear, the general issues facing small states surrounded by countries
with greater geopolitical and military capabilities became fused with
more specific needs to adapt to the political economy of prolonged low
oil prices and growing socio-economic dissent. The succession of domes-
tic and regional difficulties encountered in the 1980s and early-1990s—
ranging from proximity to zones of conflict and vulnerability to trans-
national instability, to heightened frustration at the slow pace of devel-
opment of proven natural resource endowments—eventually reached a
tipping-point with the engineered succession of Sheikh Hamad. This in
turn built upon a well-established pattern in domestic Qatari politics
whereby the major opposition to the ruler came from within the ruling
family itself, as opposed to societal pressures from below. Finally, the
new emir was faced with the challenge to consolidate his position both
domestically and internationally, and opted to carve out an autonomous
33
and highly distinctive niche by way of political decompression and eco-
nomic liberalisation.
â•… Here, the theoretical concepts of “omni-balancing” and “managed
multi-dependence” as determinants of domestic and foreign policy for-
mulation become relevant. Developed initially by Steven David in the
early-1990s to explain patterns of alignment in the Third World, the
theory of “omni-balancing” was deepened and applied to the context of
the Gulf by Gerd Nonneman. This holds that a “shifting constellation
of both internal and external challenges and resources” exists in a fluid
environment in which the domestic, regional and international levels are
inextricably intertwined.75 Nonneman (who is today the Dean of the
Georgetown School of Foreign Service in Qatar’s Education City) also
developed the theory of “managed multi-dependence” to demonstrate
and explain how “small” states could carve out spaces of relative auton-
omy in regional and international affairs: “…the question of the relative
power and influence of ‘developed’ and ‘developing’ states needs to be
considered not in overall absolute terms, but by considering what, for
the supposedly weaker party, is most relevant in terms of its foreign
policy aims.” This “is unlikely to be the battle with the great powers” as
small states instead direct their attention “toward the regional arena”
where “there are many dynamics over which outside powers have little
or no control.” This, Nonneman concludes, “provides the fluctuating
room for manoeuvre within which the pragmatic multi-level balancing
game becomes possible.”76
â•… Underlying all of the above in the specifically Qatari context is a prag-
matic acknowledgement of the changing policy-making arena in the age
of accelerating globalisation. Ruling elites in Qatar were far quicker than
other Gulf (or Middle East) counterparts in recognising and adapting to
new globalising pressures. In large part, the greater flexibility in Qatari
decision-making processes reflected the smoother channels through
which power was mediated and transmitted. In the absence of strong
countervailing political or public opposition to government authority (as
in Kuwait or Bahrain) or sub-national intra-regional complexities (as in
Saudi Arabia or the United Arab Emirates), power in Qatar was concen-
trated in a tiny apex of senior members of the ruling family, supported
by a small number of technocratic elites and able to take advantage of
kinship networks stretching across the network of key state-owned enter-
prises in Qatar, as Chapter Three makes clear. Operating with great
autonomy from societal forces and facing few domestic constraints once
34
Emir Hamad had successfully consolidated his position in the late-1990s,
the nature of power in Qatar was top-heavy, with policies being decided
by principals such as the emir and Hamad bin Jassim and implemented
through the bureaucratic machinery of state, rather than the other way
around. The chapters in Part Two of this book demonstrate how this had
advantages and disadvantages, enabling swift action and the mobilisation
of the full panoply of state resources behind an agreed policy but at the
expense of institutional capacity to fully manage subsequent implementa-
tion or follow-through of measures taken.
â•… The launch of the pioneering Al Jazeera satellite television network in
1996 demonstrated how Qatari officials, from the emir down, were
ahead of the curve in anticipating the new opportunities on offer to
first-movers, both regionally and globally. This will be analysed in the
following chapter, but the awareness of the complexity of the modern
information age and the way it tied together the different realms of
internal and external policy-making as never before, were succinctly
captured during an interview given by Sheikh Hamad to the New Yorker
magazine in November 2000:
We have simply got to reform ourselves. We’re living in a modern age. People
log on to the Internet. They watch cable TV. You cannot isolate yourself in
Â€
today’s world. And our reforms are progressing well. In a tribal country like
Qatar, however, it could take time for everyone to accept what we’ve done. But
change, more change, is coming.77
â•… Like the foreign minister’s comment about democracy cited above,
the emir’s words were spoken before the September 11th terrorist attacks
on the United States, and the unleashing of the “war on terror” that
followed. Significantly, Qatar’s move toward political and economic
reform predated these cathartic events and ensured they were durable
(and organic) enough to survive the strains of the US-led “democratisa-
tion” project in Iraq after 2003. However, in the formative years of the
“war on terror,” Qatar became synonymous in parts of the Western
media and political consciousness as a recalcitrant ally owing to the
actions of Al Jazeera in broadcasting raw coverage of the wars in
Afghanistan and Iraq and airing the videos and audio statements of
Osama bin Laden. This perception heightened the importance of state-
branding, in part through the strategic leveraging of soft power to create
long-term mutual interdependencies, to which the focus of the next
chapter turns.
35
2
STATE-BRANDING AND THE LEVERAGING

OF POWER AND INFLUENCE
Since Emir Hamad bin Khalifa Al-Thani assumed power in 1995, the
processes of limited political and media liberalisation and the full devel-
opment of its vast reserves of natural gas laid the foundation for Qatar’s
emergence as a regional power with truly international reach. Uniquely
in the Middle East and North Africa, astute and far-sighted policy-
making allowed Qatar to shape rapidly globalising forces to its own
advantage, helped by its highly fortuitous resources-population balance.
The combination of massive resource wealth and a tiny indigenous popu-
lation gave Qatari officials considerable room for manoeuvre and freed
the emirate from the socio-economic pressures afflicting larger neigh-
bours in the region. Over time it also translated into significant reserves
of “soft power” and international repute.
â•… This chapter puts the energetic and very visible initiatives into context
and perspective. Beginning with the establishment of Al Jazeera in
November 1996 and accelerating rapidly in the first years of the twenty-
first century, they have worked incessantly to carve out an exceptionally
high-profile for Qatar in the international arena. The two-year term that
Qatar served on the United Nations Security Council in 2006–7 was a
pivotal catalyst in this rise to global prominence. A combination of
wealth and vision underpinned the success of Qatar’s strategy and
enabled it to eclipse the Arab world’s traditional superpowers, Egypt and
37
Saudi Arabia.1 The extremely small circle of decision-makers made this
more nimble stance possible and contrasted sharply with the bloated
and ossified bureaucratic structures in Cairo and Riyadh. Yet Qatar’s
success also rested on a nuanced understanding of the concept of “soft
power” and the range of policy choices that leveraged this throughout
the region and beyond.
â•… The opening section of this chapter explores the global trend toward
the appreciation of “state-branding” and “soft power.” It places Qatar’s
into comparative perspective both as regards the theoretical literature
and within a dynamic regional context in which Dubai and Abu Dhabi
(and previously Bahrain) have all been especially proactive in pursuing
branding strategies of their own. It then examines five major categories
of contemporary high-visibility Qatari initiatives. Broadly speaking
these are the development of the Al Jazeera brand, education and cul-
ture, sport, international travel and tourism, and cutting-edge global
research and development in new and cleaner forms of energy. Taken
together they provide compelling evidence of a planned Qatari agenda
of state-branding, underpinned by the small decision-making elite
capable of mobilising the different branches of the state capitalist system
behind a given strategy.
“State-Branding” and “Soft Power”

Peter van Ham has suggested that “state-branding” and “soft power” are
linked, as appreciation of the latter as a tool of attracting and persuading
others has prompted many countries to prioritise the former in national
approaches to development. This is especially evident in contemporary
Qatar as the remainder of this chapter makes clear. Several additional
factors have been put forward to explain the recent enthusiasm for state-
branding in Qatar and the Gulf more widely. One major influence
identified by Sultan Barakat is that the process is aimed at attracting
foreign business and investment and is magnified by the early movers of
regional rivals such as Dubai. Similarly, state-branding is integral to
Qatar’s desire to promote itself as a neutral and progressive leader within
the Arab and Islamic world, and to garner the support of the wider Arab
region in addition to the broader international community. This is evi-
denced through the hosting of Islamic conferences and events, and
Qatar’s significant investment in Islamic charities.2
38
POWER AND INFLUENCE
â•… State-branding also serves a domestic purpose as it fosters a sense of
national identity, loyalty and social cohesion. In the specific case of
Qatar, it compensates for the absence of a collective shared nation-
building myth. Recent years have seen a significant investment in
national and cultural resources, with special emphasis on developing a
nation-building narrative around Sheikh Jassim bin Mohammed
Al-Thani as the ruler who united Qatar and set it on its skyrocketing
path to progress and prosperity in 1878. As part of this state-branding
initiative, the first Qatar National Day was celebrated on 18 December
Â€
2007, notably the date of Sheikh Jassim’s accession to power rather than
the anniversary of Qatari statehood in 1971. Since 2007, National Day
celebrations have become ever more elaborate and lavish, peaking in
December 2011 with a huge fanfare featuring fighter jet displays, a mili-
tary parade and a variety of cultural performances along Doha’s iconic
Corniche. Presided over by the emir himself, the day also included a
symbolic reference to Qatar’s role in engineering regime change in
Libya, with the head of the Transitional National Council, Mustafa
Abdul Jalil, seated next to him as the guest of honour. Days later, the
opening ceremony of the 12th Arab Games in Doha provided another
opportunity for the visible association of Qatari solidarity with the new
Libya as the team entered to thunderous applause while waving the flag
of the new free Libya.3
â•… Parallel to and intertwined with state-branding has been the concept
of “soft power.” In his pioneering work into the concept, Joseph Nye
described “soft power” as the ability to appeal to and persuade others
using the attractiveness of a country’s culture, political ideals and poli-
cies. Although Nye first introduced the concept as early as 1990,4 he
explored in detail the phenomenon of co-optation rather than coercion
as a means of persuasion in international politics in his 2004 book Soft
Power: The Means to Success in World Politics. He described how states or
other actors in world politics (such as non-governmental organisations)
seeking to accrue soft power should:
Set the agenda and attract others in world politics, and not only to force them
to change by threatening military force or economic sanctions. This is soft
power—getting others to want the outcomes that you want co-opts people
rather than coerces them.5
â•… Nye added that soft power resources consist of the assets that
induce co-optation, and that it is a complex tool that governments must
Â€
39
build up over time as they develop a reputation for credibility in a par-
ticular field.6
â•… The concept of “soft power” was published at the height of the George
W. Bush presidency’s attempt to resolve international challenges through
Â€
military interventions in the Middle East and Central Asia. Its failure to
reorder Afghanistan and Iraq through the use of force highlighted the
flaws inherent in the prioritisation of coercion over consent in contem-
porary world politics. The upsurge in terrorist and insurgent attacks
during the ill-conceived “war on terror” powerfully demonstrated the
limitations of traditional “hard power,” as well as the importance of
actions being seen by the international community to be legitimate in
and consistent with the norms of international law.7
â•… Qatar was not spared the regional fallout as its role as headquarters of
US Central Command (CENTCOM) exposed it to terrorist threats. In
March 2005, an Egyptian suicide bomber blew himself up at the Doha
Players Theatre during a production of Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night, kill-
ing one person and injuring twelve others. Even more remarkably,
Qatar’s notional minister of the interior in 2001, Sheikh Abdullah bin
Khalid Al-Thani, has been under house arrest for years due to his alleged
sympathy for Al-Qaeda. The allegations against him include specific
charges of ties with Khalid Sheikh Mohammed (the architect of the
9/11 attack) while KSM worked in the Qatari Ministry of Electricity
and Water between 1992 and 1996 and, as the minister of religious
affairs, of assisting him to flee to Pakistan to avoid capture by the Federal
Bureau of Investigation (FBI). Remarkably, Sheikh Abdullah remained
on paper the Minister of the Interior until the government reshuffle
undertaken by new Emir Tamim bin Hamad Al-Thani in June 2013.
For much of this period, the day-to-day running of the Interior Ministry
was delegated to the Minister of State for Interior Affairs, Sheikh
Abdullah bin Nasser Al-Thani, who subsequently became the fully-
fledged Interior Minister (as well as Prime Minister) following the
handover of power to Emir Tamim.8
â•… These developments notwithstanding, Qatari understanding and
projection of forms of soft power pre-dated Nye’s conceptual break-
through. Indeed, they started shortly after Emir Hamad’s takeover of
power from his father in 1995. Multiple factors account for the distinc-
tive form of state-branding initiatives that subsequently took place as
part of a comprehensive effort to “put Qatar on the map.” One very
40
POWER AND INFLUENCE
significant factor was the lesson undoubtedly assimilated from the inter-
national response to the Iraqi invasion of Kuwait in August 1990, and
the multi-national coalition that rapidly assembled to restore its sover-
eignty and the position of its Al-Sabah ruling family. Kuwait (and the
Gulf ’s) importance to the international economy and its energy ties to
major external powers essentially acted as a security guarantor of last
resort, as the United States invested enormous financial and military
resources in its liberation. The lessons of this were not lost on officials in
the region who were long-accustomed to relying on external relation-
ships for their domestic security and regional stability. For small states
seeking to best leverage their limited political, economic and strategic
assets, it made rational sense to increase their importance to as many
powerful external partners as possible.9
â•… In his innovative research into strategies of survival for small and
micro-states, J.E. Peterson identified three complementary approaches
Â€
to building coalitions of external support. In addition to reaching a

modus vivendi with larger neighbouring states and enlisting a powerful
external protector, he added that “they should exploit a unique niche
whereby the small state provides a service or commodity that benefits
neighbours, the region, or the broader world.” This, he continued, cre-
ates legitimacy and crucially “demonstrates to outsiders that it is more
valuable or useful as an independent entity than it would be if absorÂ�
bed.”10 These factors allow all small states to overcome some of their
physical limitations. However, in Qatar’s case, they are magnified by its
location in a volatile regional environment marked both by intra-
regional rivalries and by fast-paced developments and state-branding
initiatives in neighbouring states. Writing in an introduction to an
edited volume on The Diplomacies of Small States, Andrew Cooper and
Timothy Shaw observed that Qatar “exemplifies the subordination of
vulnerability to resilience” as “using a blend of conventional and uncon-
ventional techniques, Qatar has become the poster illustration of how a
small state can upgrade its diplomatic reputation to the point of being
exceptionally resilient.”11
â•… In the specific case of Qatar, an ambitious generational project of
state-branding was unveiled in 2008 when the General Secretariat for
Development Planning launched its Qatar National Vision (QNV)
2030 under the leadership of then-heir apparent (and emir since June
2013) Sheikh Tamim bin Hamad. This outlined five major challenges
41
facing Qatar, including meeting the needs of both current and future
generations, and aligning economic growth with social development and
environmental management. It recommended four interconnected pil-
lars, focusing on human, social, environmental and economic growth,
to meet these challenges. This emphasis on human and sustainable devel-
opment is most evident in the rapid emergence of Ras Laffan Industrial
City which, since its launch in 1996, has developed into an integrated
hub for the production and export of liquefied natural gas and gas-to-
liquids. However, while QNV 2030 continues to form the cornerstone
of Qatari development, it has been vulnerable to the unprecedented pace
of Qatari development post-2008; an example is the near-doubling of
the population from 800,000 in 2006 to 1.5 million by the end of 2007,
and further growth to more than 1.8 million in 2012.12 Aside from
illustrating the tension between short-term opportunistic growth and
longer-term sustainable development plans, the pace of growth also
stimulated considerable domestic unease over the perceived loss of iden-
tity and erosion of values among many Qatari nationals.13
â•… For the purposes of the discussion that follows in this chapter, it is
Qatar’s utilisation of its LNG reserves that has underwritten its extensive
deployment of its soft power and state-branding initiatives. The creation
of durable long-term export agreements with industrialised and emerg-
ing economies across the world has effectively transformed recipient
countries into direct stakeholders in Qatari stability.14 Qatar’s natural gas
agreements demonstrate the geostrategic dimension of its energy
exports. Much of this is locked into long-term deals with East Asian
economies such as South Korea and Japan, but the most pronounced
illustration of the thickening interdependencies with international part-
ners may be seen in its supply of gas to the United Kingdom and to
China. Dispatch of LNG cargoes by ship from Ras Laffan Industrial
City to the South Hook LNG Terminal at Milford Haven in Wales
commenced in March 2009, and by 2011 the UK was almost entirely
reliant on Qatari gas imports, as they accounted for all but two incom-
ing cargoes during the year.15 Similarly, and also in 2009, Qatargas
signed a twenty-five-year agreement to provide five million tons of LNG
a year to the China National Offshore Oil Corporation (CNOOC) and
PetroChina. The value of this long-term link was made clear by
CNOOC president Fu Chengyu, who noted the “great complementari-
ties” between the two countries, as “China can guarantee a long-term
42
POWER AND INFLUENCE
reliable market for Qatar, while Qatar can be a stable supplier for [the]
Chinese market.”16
â•… Importantly, the connections binding Qatar to external actors around
the world have diversified well beyond the transactional delivery of
LNG. These have made possible the five components of state-branding
Â€
described in the next section. While each has in itself been significant,
their significance has been magnified (and transcended) by the broader
changes to the structure and distribution of global power. Qatar’s geo-
graphic location and enormous resource endowment has positioned it
as a central pivot around which the rebalancing of geo-economic power
between West and East is taking place. The results may be seen at Ras
Laffan Industrial City, from where massive Q-Max LNG carriers simul-
taneously depart for the UK and Japan, and in the construction of the
enormous new Hamad International Airport, intended to cement Qatar
Airways’ position as a “global super-connector” with the ability to con-
nect any two places on the globe with a single stopover in Doha. As a
case in point, new routes announced in 2010 meant that a traveller
could fly direct from Sao Paulo in Brazil or Buenos Aires in Argentina
to Qatar and then connect to an onward flight to Tokyo, Osaka, or five
cities in China if they so choose.17
â•… It must nevertheless be noted that the projection of soft power and
the appreciation of state-branding as strategic tools in contemporary
world politics are not unique to Qatar. A number of other countries,
primarily in Asia, launched similar initiatives in the 2000s. One example
was the “Cool Japan” programme that was launched in 2002 to express
Japan’s emerging status as a cultural power. Although reminiscent of the
short-lived “Cool Britannia” slogan associated with Tony Blair’s New
Labour Government in the United Kingdom in the 1990s, the Japanese
initiative went far further than its British counterpart, which ultimately
was an empty gesture devoid of substance. “Cool Japan,” by contrast,
was taken up by the Ministry of Foreign Affairs in 2005 and by Japan’s
national broadcasting organisation NHK as a tool to refer to the coun-
try’s “gross national cool.” In 2010, it led to the creation of a dedicated
Creative Industries Promotion Office within the Ministry of Economy,
Trade and Industry (METI). This was specifically designed to promote
cultural and creative industries as part of the overarching concept of
“Cool Japan” as the Tokyo government identified the culture industry as
one of five potential areas of growth.18
43
â•… Yet Japan’s early-mover advantage in state-branding has since been
surpassed in magnitude by its Asia Pacific neighbours. In January 2009,
South Korea established the Presidential Council on Nation Branding
in order to promote the country’s global image and support Korean
businesses and nationals abroad through government-initiated strategies
and policies. In addition to promoting Taekwondo and the Korean lan-
guage, other strands were devoted to creating a Global Korea Scholarship
to establish a group of scholars with a deep understanding and apprecia-
tion of Korea, and to promoting the concept of global citizenship. With
an annual budget of around 100 billion won ($81 million) and a cross-
section of government ministers, private sector executives and academics
on the council, it is driven by the belief that countries with a positive
global brand are more likely to attract foreign direct investment (FDI)
and to be treated favourably in international business transactions. Its
formation also stemmed from the realisation that few outside Korea
appeared to “associate the country with being a dynamic emerging-
market powerhouse and world class innovator.” Lingering associations
with a violent past and the threat from North Korea meant that the
South scored poorly on international nation-branding indices, ranking
below India, China and even Egypt.19
â•… China, too, has worked on enhancing its soft power through culture
and education. In October 2007, President Hu Jintao stressed the impor-
tance of “culture as part of the soft power of our country” alongside more
conventional goals of economic and social development. Cultural soft
power was then integrated into the 12th Five-Year Programme (2011–
15) on National Economic and Social Development.20 More than 200
companies were identified as “key export-oriented culture enterprises”
and a network of Confucius Institutes was set up worldwide as part of a
“Chinese culture going international strategy.”21 Significantly, as with
their counterparts in Korea, officials in China associated the assumption
of greater international responsibilities, such as involvement in post-
conflict reconstruction in Afghanistan, the dispatch of earthquake search
and rescue teams to Haiti and Chile, and support for peacekeeping mis-
sions, as an integral part of the projection of soft power.22
â•… The initiatives described above are being repeated elsewhere in East
Asia, such as in Taiwan. They demonstrate the salience and appreciation
of the concept of “soft power” as a tool of national advantage in an
increasingly competitive and crowded environment. Its importance to
dynamic Asian economies is magnified by changes in the balance of
44
POWER AND INFLUENCE
geo-economic power from West to East. By virtue of their geographic
positioning in West Asia, the Gulf states are centrally located as the
pivot around which this global rebalancing is taking place. This gives the
resource-rich countries of the Gulf—the UAE, Saudi Arabia and
Kuwait, in addition to Qatar—an opportunity to expand their leverage
over an international system in a state of flux following the systemic
crises in the economic and financial systems. This expansion depends,
however, on the convergence of powerful state-branding initiatives with
proactive attempts to deploy the full range of available resources in both
conventional influence and soft power.
Broader Changes in the Global Order

During the first decade of the twenty-first century, the Gulf states as a
group emerged as far more visible actors in the global system of power,
politics and policy-making. Using their energy resources and capital
accumulation during the 2002–8 oil-price boom as leverage, GCC
states, led by Qatar and the UAE, became more active in international
issues. Their involvement ranged from deeper enmeshment in South-
South networks to greater projection of sovereign wealth investments,
and even to gradually shifting positions in the international politics of
climate change. Notably, these integrative linkages built upon and
moved beyond the extraction and export of oil that had for decades
bound the Gulf to the global economy.23 Primarily as a result of the
large-scale and ambitious programmes of economic diversification
launched in the 1990s and 2000s, the Gulf states became world-leading
centres of production for a variety of industries, from petrochemicals
and aluminium to cement and construction projects.24 By 2008, they
accounted for 12 per cent of global petrochemical production, and more
complex industrial ties developed with emerging and industrialised
economies alike. These included broadening multi-sector linkages as
well as greater flows of foreign direct investment, technology transfer
and integration into global production and supply chains.25
â•… The global financial and economic crisis that began in 2007 aug-
mented and accelerated the underlying changes in the international
economy. It also provided an opportunity for Qatar, in common with
other resource-rich Gulf states (notably the UAE and Saudi Arabia) to
increase its leverage in supra-national institutions and layers of global
45
governance. In Saudi Arabia’s case, the country’s large size and impor-
tance to world energy markets led to inclusion in the G-20 process. The
G-20 met periodically after 2008 to manage the international response
to the financial crisis, and Saudi officials joined with counterparts from
other emerging economies, notably the BRIC (Brazil, Russia, India and
China) bloc to demand greater representation in international financial
institutions. Qatar, meanwhile, joined with Switzerland and Singapore
in the World Economic Forum’s Global Redesign Initiative (GRI). This
organisation was set up to channel the views of twenty-eight small and
medium-sized states into the G-20 process and it also spawned a Global
Governance Group (3G).26 Qatar hosted a Global Redesign Summit that
took place in Doha on 30–31 May 2010, producing a final communiqué
Â€
entitled Strengthening International Cooperation in a More Interdependent

World. This outlined “the parameters of an optimal system of global
cooperation as well as a set of pragmatic, actionable steps in specific areas
of international cooperation.” Qatar additionally hosted one of the ini-
tiative’s three supplementary hearings, focusing on energy security gov-
ernance; the other two hearings were hosted by Switzerland on the topic
of UN reform and by Singapore on Asia’s role in global governance.27
â•… Notably, the period of extended economic retrenchment and austerity
measures in Western countries after 2008 coincided with the peaking of
the boom years of Qatari LNG expansion, which saw GDP grow by up
to 17 per cent a year at its height. This remarkable divergence from the
international norm gave Qatari policy-makers and institutional investors
great leeway in working to reshape the architecture of an international
system in flux. In May 2009, the prime minister and foreign minister,
Sheikh Hamad bin Jassim Al-Thani, addressed these issues directly as he
called for a profound reshaping of “the organisational frameworks of the
dominant political system” in recognition of the emergence of a multi-
polar order in which “the west was not the sole player in the world.”28
Blunter still was the emir in comments made in March 2009: “China is
coming, India is coming, and Russia is on its way, too … I don’t know
if America and Europe will still be leading.”29
â•… The comments of the emir and the prime minister reflected the sense
of bombast among Gulf officials during the early stages of the global
economic crisis. Collectively, the six GCC states acquired $912 billion
of foreign assets in the five years to June 2008, while Gulf-based sover-
eign wealth funds were vital sources of liquidity for struggling Western
financial institutions in 2007 and 2008. The importance of these funds
46
POWER AND INFLUENCE
peaked during the autumn of 2008; they accounted for one third of all
of the emergency funding made available by European governments in
Â€
response to the systemic banking crisis that followed the collapse of

Lehman Brothers in September 2008.30 Particularly controversial were
two emergency fundraising injections of liquidity that Qatar Holding
made in Barclays Bank. Totalling £5.3 billion, the investments allowed
Barclays to avoid the taxpayer-funded government bailouts made to
Lloyds and Royal Bank of Scotland. However, investor concern was
expressed at the apparently lucrative terms offered to Qatar Holding,
which eventually made a £1.5 billion profit on its investment in
Barclays, while the Financial Conduct Authority (FCA) began an inves-
tigation into the payment of fees in advisory service agreements to Qatar
Holding. In September 2013, the FCA criticised Barclays as “reckless”
for failing to disclose some £322 million in fees paid over five years, and
handed the bank a £50 million penalty.31
â•… Initial hopes that the global financial and economic crisis might
bypass the Gulf altogether proved misplaced as oil prices plunged in
late-2008, project financing dried up, and the real estate speculative
bubble burst, most spectacularly in Dubai in 2009. Individual Gulf
states felt the impact of the crisis in different ways, as Saudi Arabia was
hit by a financial and corporate governance scandal, Kuwaiti financial
institutions were exposed to a combination of weakening domestic
property markets, local equity markets, and the tightening of interna-
tional credit, while the “Dubai model” of high-end development under-
pinned by a reliance on continuous foreign direct investment and access
to cheap international credit imploded.32 Yet its effects on Qatar were
greatly mitigated by the aforementioned surge in LNG investment and
production. This underlined just how divergent Qatari economic and
commercial development was as it became not just an international but
also a regional outlier, especially after the onset of political and socio-
economic upheaval across large parts of the Middle East and North
Africa in 2011.
Branding Qatar
This section examines the five major components of Qatar’s global rise.
These are the emergence of Al Jazeera; high-profile prestige investments
in the education and cultural sectors; the targeting and hosting of major
47
international sporting events and stars; the growth of luxury-level inter-
national travel and tourism; and the pioneering research and develop-
ment into cleaner energy fuels. Together they have transformed regional
and international perceptions of Qatar and fostered a powerful “can do”
mentality among its leadership. When considering that it is only a
decade since the Lonely Planet travel guide’s unfavourable summation of
Qatar’s capital, the degree of change has been unprecedented in its
rapidity. In that time, Doha has become a sophisticated urban metropo-
lis boasting futuristic architecture and a skyline that would not look out
of place in Manhattan, although this process of change has not been
without its problems, as the sections below also demonstrate.33
Al Jazeera
The first and by far the most successful and recognisable Arabic-language
satellite television channel began transmitting from Doha in November
1996. Initially broadcasting for six hours a day before becoming a
twenty-four-hour nominally independent news channel in January
1999, Al Jazeera has since achieved a pan-Arab influence comparable to
that of Gamal Abdul Nasser’s Sawt al-Arab radio broadcasts in the
1960s. Its comprehensive reporting of current events and its robust
debate and discussion programmes revolutionised Arab media offerings
that hitherto had been characterised by sterile reporting of state-sanc-
tioned news items. Originally planned by Sheikh Hamad while he was
still the heir apparent in 1994, the channel’s hallmark brand of investi-
gative reporting was made possible by the repeal of Qatar’s censorship
laws after he took power in 1995.34 Al Jazeera reflected the emir’s wish
for a television station that would broadcast his desired image of a pro-
gressive Qatar to the Middle East and the international community.
Over time, this contributed to his policy of “bridging the gap” between
the Western and Arab worlds.35
â•… From its beginning, Al Jazeera stirred controversy through its no-
holds-barred reporting on and unfettered analysis of regional events. In
the United States, the station became associated with the “war on terror”
through its broadcasting of video and audio statements by Osama bin
Laden both before and after 9/11. The station’s in-depth coverage on the
ground from Afghanistan and, particularly, Iraq also caused friction in
Washington, as it broadcast often-gruesome scenes of civilian suffering
48
POWER AND INFLUENCE
at the hands of American and Western missiles. Here its content con-
trasted sharply with the clean editorial lines favoured by Western news
corporations, which cut out images of collateral damage and presented
a sanitised version of events that masked the realities of war. For their
part, during the Bush administration and the fraught early years of the
“war on terror,” “some in the CIA were convinced that Al Jazeera was
the publicity arm of international terrorism.” Moreover, the targeting of
Al Jazeera’s bureau offices in both Kabul and Baghdad, the latter killing
respected reporter Tariq Ayoub, fed suspicions of a US conspiracy to
punish a troublesome channel that dared to show the impact of its
actions on the Islamic world.36 During President George W. Bush’s vale-
Â€
dictory tour of the Gulf in January 2008, he pointedly did not visit
Qatar, adding to feelings that his administration viewed the country’s
policies to the “war on terror” with ambivalence.
â•… The launch of a sister channel, Al Jazeera English, in November 2006
was a masterstroke in countering negative international perceptions of
the channel and its state sponsor. Although the new channel quickly
won plaudits for the quality and depth of its international news report-
ing, its breakthrough came with its coverage of the Israeli assault on
Gaza in December 2008 and January 2009. As one of the few English-
language channels with a reporter on the ground in Gaza City, the chan-
nel gained widespread international recognition for its coverage.
However, its real CNN-style “Gulf War” breakout moment came with
the onset of the “Arab Spring” protests in North Africa in early-2011.
Although, like most channels, it was slow to recognise the significance
of the escalating protests that culminated in Tunisian president Ben Ali’s
ouster in January, its subsequent reporting of Egypt’s eighteen-day
“revolution” from Cairo’s Tahrir Square became iconic. For the first time
since the initial stages of the US-led invasion of Iraq in March 2003, the
channel suspended its discussion and feature programmes and focused
exclusively on live reporting of current events.
â•… During the Egyptian crisis, the popularity of Al Jazeera English
soared. Its live streaming from Tahrir Square resulted in its viewing fig-
ures rising a colossal 2,500 per cent. In addition, there was a growing
clamour for the channel to be included on satellite television packages
in the United States.37 Finally, it seemed, the channel had won for itself
international acceptance and credibility. Its English-language channel
succeeded in rebranding Al Jazeera even while its Arabic-language chan-
nel remained significantly different, both in content and its tone toward
49
the unfolding regional upheaval. However, evidence of inconsistencies
in Al Jazeera’s reporting of the Arab Spring protests, coupled with the
sudden replacement of its respected Palestinian director-general by a
member of the Qatari ruling family in September 2011, led to renewed
doubts as to the true level of its editorial independence and objectives.
â•… Indeed, shortly before the outbreak of the Arab revolts, the mass
release of US diplomatic cables by WikiLeaks revealed that senior
American policy-makers raised serious questions over the nature of the
relationship between the Qatari government and Al Jazeera (Arabic).
Particularly revealing was a cable written in November 2009 predicting
that the channel might become “a bargaining tool to repair relation-
ships with other countries, particularly those soured by Al Jazeera’s
broadcasts.” This assertion was backed up by other cables which dis-
closed how the channel had apparently toned down its criticism of
members of the Saudi ruling family, and how the Qatari prime minister
had allegedly offered Egyptian president Hosni Mubarak a bargain by
which Qatar would stop broadcasting Al Jazeera in Egypt for one year
in return for a change in Egypt’s position on the Palestinian issue. The
cables also cited the American Embassy in Doha which had stated that
the channel had proved “a useful tool for the station’s political masters,”
and the then-American ambassador to Qatar, Joseph LeBaron, who
added that “Despite GOQ [Government of Qatar] protestations to the
contrary, al-Jazeera remains one of Qatar’s most valuable political and
diplomatic tools.”38
â•… While Qatar has consistently insisted in public that Al Jazeera is edi-
torially independent from the ruling family and state policy, sceptics
have long-suspected that the Arabic-language channel “serves as an arm
of its host nation’s foreign policy.”39 Especially troublesome was the sud-
den resignation in September 2011 of its long-standing director-general,
Wadah Khanfar, and his replacement by Sheikh Ahmed bin Jassim bin
Mohammed Al-Thani. Seen in the context of the WikiLeaks cables and
growing scepticism (as the Arab Spring unfolded in 2011) of Qatar’s
regional objectives, these speculations proved damaging to the Qatari
brand, particularly with regards to the projected image of impartiality.
The beleaguered (and soon to be ousted) Yemeni president, Ali Abdulla
Saleh, articulated such feelings as he angrily reacted to Qatari attempts
in March 2011 to negotiate a peaceful transition of power: “the Qatari
initiative is rejected, rejected, rejected. We reject what comes from Qatar
or Al Jazeera.”40
50
POWER AND INFLUENCE
â•… Following the election of the Muslim Brotherhood’s candidate,
Mohamed Morsi, to the Egyptian presidency in June 2012, Sultan
Souud Al-Qassemi, a prominent Emirati commentator, wrote a scathing
and extremely-widely debated article for the American-based Al-Monitor
website. Entitled “Morsi’s win is Al Jazeera’s loss,” Al-Qassemi detailed
the multiple prongs of Al Jazeera Arabic’s consistent support for a
Brotherhood-led political transition in Egypt. Noting the high profile of
one of the Brotherhood’s intellectual leaders, Sheikh Yusuf al-Qaradawi
in the channel, Al-Qassemi argued that “Al Jazeera’s love affair with the
Muslim Brotherhood was evident from the channel’s beginning.” He
further described how Al Jazeera established a dedicated Egyptian chan-
nel, Al Jazeera Mubasher Misr, just days after the fall of President
Mubarak in February 2011, which “has been dedicating its coverage
in favour of the Muslim Brotherhood around the clock.” Moreover,
Â€
Al-Qassemi further suggested that this “love affair” extended to its

Arabic-language website edition, as well as beyond Egypt, to include its
“championing of the Muslim Brotherhood-dominated and highly inef-
fective Syrian National Council.”41
â•… Such accusations of institutionalised bias and deliberate distortion of
news narratives have the potential to inflict great damage on the credi-
bility built up by Al Jazeera. Over the past decade, it has emerged as a
respected international news outlet, to which Western media have con-
sistently turned to for coverage of issues relating to the Middle East. The
channel has become a source of considerable pride for Qatar, but the
perception held by increasing numbers of Arab observers and commen-
tators of the widening discrepancy between its Arabic and English sta-
tions risks backfiring in the longer-run, should it no longer be seen to
be impartial, but rather as a state-backed arm of a country with a
broader regional agenda. The attacks on Al Jazeera Mubasher Misr in the
days after the ousting of the Muslim Brotherhood-led government in
Egypt in June 2013, and the station’s subsequent enforced closure, indi-
cate the challenges stemming from any loss of credibility or impartiality
that face the channel, and its host, in the “post-Arab Spring” era.
Education and culture

Another of the key Qatari state-branding initiatives relates to the pro-
motion and funding of education and culture. Largely through the
51
efforts of the Qatar Foundation for Education, Science and Community
Development, headed by the powerful wife of Emir Hamad, Sheikha
Mozah, the state is attempting to project itself as an intellectual and
cultural hub for the Gulf region and beyond. The jewel in the crown is
undoubtedly “Education City”—a vast educational hub that has devel-
oped on the dusty outskirts of Doha. Since its inception in the late-
1990s, it has attracted transplant branches of six leading global universi-
ties and positioned Qatar at the forefront of regional higher education
choices. Nevertheless, this has arguably been at the expense of the state-
run Qatar University, which predates Education City by more than two
decades (it was founded in 1973 as a College of Education before
expanding into a university in 1977). It has remained outside the
Education City/Qatar Foundation umbrella and has not received fund-
ing on the scale of its younger counterpart.
â•… The first entrant into Education City was the Virginia Commonwealth
University in Qatar in 1998. Since then a process of steady expansion has
seen the arrival of the Weill Cornell Medical College in Qatar in 2001,
the Texas A&M University of Qatar in 2003, the Carnegie Mellon
University in Qatar in 2004, the Georgetown University School of
Foreign Service in Qatar in 2005, and the Northwestern University in
Qatar in 2008. In addition to these six pioneering US institutions, 2011
saw the arrival of the HEC Paris Business School and a branch of
University College London, the first British transplant of its kind.
Although initial plans to have up to fifteen prestigious university branÂ�
ches and a minimum quota of 75 per cent of Qatari students proved
unfeasible, by 2010, Qatari students formed about 45 per cent of the
total student population of about 10,000 (although a worrying factor for
Qatari educational leaders were signs that as overall enrolment numbers
increased, the proportion of Qatari students consistently declined).42
These universities have been joined by offshoots of prestigious Western
think-tanks and research institutions that have chosen to locate their
regional offices in Qatar. These include the RAND-Qatar Policy Institute,
the Brookings Doha Centre, and the Royal United Services Institute for
Defence and Security Studies (RUSI Qatar). Together, these university
campuses and research institutes have ensured a constant stream of high-
profile and specialised visitors that anchors Qatar as a leading hub of
concentrated and critical thinking in the region.
â•… More innovative still is the alignment and integration of academic
research with Qatari developmental and strategic plans. This has
52
POWER AND INFLUENCE
occurred through the launching of the Qatar National Research Fund
and its National Priorities Research Programme in 2006. A part of the
Qatar Foundation, these annual funding cycles have attracted applica-
tions from researchers across the world in cooperation with a local aca-
demic partner in Qatar itself. Some $121 million in project funding was
announced in the May 2013 funding cycle, spread across twenty-seven
local research institutes and their international partners.43 The pro-
gramme represents a step up from the research councils established in
other Gulf states, such as Oman and the UAE, by directly incentivising
and promoting collaborative academic partnerships between local and
international research networks, and funding research that clearly meets
Qatar’s (self-defined) needs.44
â•… In a broadly similar fashion, the Doha Debates founded by former
BBC journalist Tim Sebastian in 2004 have secured for Qatar a promi-
nent niche in free and outspoken speech in the Gulf. Sponsored by the
Qatar Foundation and broadcast worldwide by the BBC World News
channel, the debates are modelled on the classical Oxford Union adver-
sarial structure of two speakers on each side of the motion. Two debates
in particular stand out as evidence of the ways that the Doha Debates
challenge and extend the boundaries of permissible critical opinion in a
region where freedom of speech was hitherto tightly controlled. In
December 2009, just as Abu Dhabi was preparing to “bail out” neigh-
bouring emirate Dubai in the wake of its debt crisis, the subject of the
Doha Debate was: “This House believes Dubai is a bad idea.” Although
the motion was defeated by 62 per cent to 38 per cent, the mere fact
that it was being debated at all contrasted sharply with the sensitivity of
the issue elsewhere in the Gulf, especially in the UAE itself, where
changes to the media law announced in 2009 appeared to criminalise
“harming the economic security” of the country. Poignantly, one of the
speakers who defended the Dubai model of development in the Doha
Debate was the Emirati economist Nasser bin Ghaith who later, in April
2011, was arrested and detained for seven months for calling for reforms
in the wake of the Arab Spring.45
â•… More remarkable still was a Doha Debate held two years later, in
December 2011, shortly after the publication of a hard-hitting report by
the Bahrain Independent Commission of Inquiry into the crushing of
the pro-democracy movement that had erupted in Bahrain in February–
March 2011. Even as King Hamad bin Isa Al-Khalifa pledged (against
53
much international scepticism) to initiate a substantive reform process,
the topic of debate in Doha was: “This House has no confidence in
Bahrain’s promise to reform.” Incredibly, the motion was overwhelm-
ingly passed by 78 per cent of a largely Gulf audience, as the case against
taking the ruling family at their word was expertly laid out by noted
academic critic Dr Christopher Davidson and leading Bahraini human
Â€
rights advocate Nabeel Rajab. The result constituted “a slap in the face
for a government promising its people long-awaited reform.”46 Just as
with Nasser bin Ghaith’s later arrest in Dubai, Qatar’s tolerance of dis-
senting views far outmatched that of Bahrain, as Nabeel Rajab was
arrested twice in the spring of 2012 before being sentenced to three
years’ imprisonment for his opposition and human rights activities.
â•… The examples described above have placed Qatar at the forefront of
regional and even international developments in research and critical
thinking. They have functioned as a powerful tool of soft power by
extending the circles of academic and public policy debate devoted to
issues facing Qatar and its environs. So too has the opening of the
Museum of Islamic Art with its no-expenses-spared collection and its
iconic building designed by the world-famous architect I.M. Pei, as well
Â€
as the Qatar National Library with its prestigious tie-up with the British
Library. As tools of state-branding, they have reinforced the perception
of Qatar as a benign influence in international affairs, as a country seek-
ing to contribute to the sum of human knowledge and push forcefully
against regional boundaries of dissenting speech and independent
thought. Yet this notwithstanding, doubts remain over the depth of
Qatar’s commitment to supposedly universal principles of free speech
and thinking, as scepticism persists over whether and how officials
would tolerate the spotlight of scrutiny being turned inward on domes-
tic Qatari affairs.
â•… Two recent examples suggest there is cause for concern. The first is the
experience of the Doha Centre for Media Freedom and its founding
director, Robert Menard. The centre was established in October 2008 as
a partnership between the Qatar Foundation and an international non-
governmental organisation, Reporters without Borders. It marked the
first instance of the creation of an international organisation for the
defence of media freedom in a non-Western location. In a region where
media freedoms are notable mainly for their absence, the Centre’s emer-
gence in Qatar had real potential to signal a radical departure in atti-
54
POWER AND INFLUENCE
tudes toward freedom of speech, open discussion and debate, and atti-
tudes toward censorship. Moreover, the new organisation’s credibility
was boosted when Menard, himself one of the founders of Reporters
without Borders in 1985, left his position in Paris to become the first
director-general of the Doha Centre.47
â•… Nonetheless, tensions quickly developed between Menard and Qatari
officials unaccustomed to dealing with local criticism of domestic Qatari
policies. Escalating mutual acrimony culminated in Menard’s resigna-
tion and the temporary closure of the Centre in May 2009. In the pub-
lic dispute that followed, Menard claimed that his work had been “suf-
focated” by mid-level bureaucrats in the ministerial institutions, as
opposed to any opposition within the Qatar Foundation itself. Addressing
the key lingering suspicion held by sceptics of Qatar’s rise, Menard
asked, “How can we have any credibility if we keep quiet about prob-
lems in the country that is our host?” In this instance, it appears, the
attempt to identify with international best-practice and innovatively
distinguish Qatar from its regional neighbourhood became entangled in
domestic contestation between different factions and levels of bureau-
cracy. It clearly illustrated the difficulties involved in translating high-
profile branding initiatives into practical implementation.48
â•… The second cautionary tale was much more tragic. It concerned the
devastating fire at the Villaggio shopping mall on 28 May 2012 that
Â€
killed nineteen people, including thirteen small children attending the

Gympanzee day-care centre inside the mall (among them a set of two-
year old triplets from New Zealand). Initial word of the unfolding trag-
edy spread rapidly through the Doha News website and online word-of-
mouth by Twitter users reporting on-the-scene updates from the mall
and its environs. Throughout the day, these media platforms kept people
updated and informed, even as the coverage on state-run Qatar TV and,
most damagingly, Al Jazeera itself remained slow and uninformative.
The latter finally dispatched a reporter to the scene in the evening as the
scale of the disaster became tragically apparent. However, its tardiness,
and its disinterest in utilising “citizen reporting” in spite of its extensive
use of such platforms when covering the Arab Spring uprisings in Egypt,
Libya and Syria, provided succour to critics who had long-argued that
the acid test of the Al Jazeera network would come when it was forced
to make a choice of whether or not to provide rolling coverage of devel-
opments within Qatar itself.
55
â•… As details of the Villaggio fire began to emerge, they highlighted a
further weakness in the Qatari branding exercise: nagging doubts among
its sceptics as to the substance and quality beneath the veneer of public-
ity-grabbing announcements. The official investigation into the causes
of the fire (which traced it to faulty wiring in a fluorescent light igniting
its plastic components before spreading to other flammable materials)
was damning in its criticism of nearly every entity involved. It found
that coordination between the different government agencies responsible
for responding to the fire was lacking; that Gympanzee was not licensed
as a nursery and did not have the requisite safety features; that “grave
breaches” in fire safety standards extended to most malls and other pub-
lic buildings in Qatar; and, most damagingly, found a “lack of adher-
ence to required laws, systems, and measures by all concerned parties to
different degrees,” including “adherence to design, license, and safety
conditions, which contributed to [the] Villaggio catastrophe.”49
â•… The defects in safety designs and evacuation procedures contributed
to the decision to close the popular city centre mall for more than six
weeks, but a spate of other fires, including one in an apartment building
on the luxury Pearl island residential development which failed to set off
fire alarms, suggests a more endemic problem with standards than the
authorities cared to admit. The Villaggio fire tragedy on 28 May 2012
Â€
therefore stands as the day that the seemingly easy lifestyle (for Qatari
nationals and wealthy expatriates) “lost its innocence” as the seamier
underside of Qatar’s startling recent development raised its head.
International sporting events and global sports icons

In the early evening of Thursday 2 December 2010, FIFA president
Â€
Sepp Blatter pulled a piece of paper out of an envelope and held aloft a
slip emblazoned with the word “Qatar.” To gasps of amazement from
the auditorium at FIFA House in Zurich that were echoed around the
world, Qatar was awarded the hosting rights of the 2022 soccer World
Cup. The tiny country, which had never before even come close to
qualifying for the World Cup and with no obvious indigenous sporting
culture of its own, beat global powerhouses such as the United States,
England and Spain in the voting. Yet Qatar’s race, seemingly from
nowhere, to win the rights to host the World Cup reflect a microcosm
of its nuanced intersection of state-branding and the creation of coali-
56
POWER AND INFLUENCE
tions of regional and international support. Simply put, its leadership
worked the political mechanics of vote-winning far more effectively than
rival bidders in order to secure the support of enough of the twenty-four
voting members on the FIFA Executive Committee. Qatari officials also
pitched a very persuasive portrait of a nation using football to bridge
different cultures while rooted in an Arab context, all encapsulated in its
catchy bid slogan, “Expect Amazing.”50
â•… The creation of the Aspire Academy for Sports Excellence demon-
strates the careful build-up of Qatar’s credentials in international sporting
circles. Aspire was established in 2004 as a world-class training and devel-
opment facility for young athletes across a range of different sports. The
complex combines the Aspire Dome—one of the largest multi-purpose
indoor arenas in the world, which hosted the 2010 IAAF World Indoor
Championships in track and field—as well as a dedicated research track
into sports science and healthy living, and tailored programmes aimed at
aspiring athletes from resource-poor developing countries. Two notable
examples of such tailored programmes specifically target footballers: an
initiative launched in 2007 to identify and nurture talented young play-
ers in fifteen developing countries in full cooperation with their national
football associations; and a programme established in 2009 to host and
train players from ten countries throughout Africa.51
â•… After Qatar’s successful bid to host the 2022 World Cup, there was
inevitably a degree of suspicion about the ways in which it secured the
votes on the twenty-four-person FIFA Executive Committee. These
included allegations that Qatar had targeted specific countries with vot-
ing members on the Executive Commitee with Aspire programmes and
promises of support, as well as questions relating to the presence of
Qatar’s Mohammed bin Hammam as the president of the Asian Football
Confederation between 2002 and 2011. While these charges were with-
out substance and were quickly disproved, it is undoubtedly the case
that the Aspire policy of developing young athletes and returning them
to their home countries fully-trained has won Qatar widespread support
among international partners, especially in relatively poor developing
countries. The fact that this policy had been in place since well before
Qatar announced its bid for the World Cup undermined the arguments
of Qatar’s sceptics, who nevertheless were correct in identifying the
Aspire centre’s considerable utility as a tool of soft power.
â•… Bidding for the World Cup also slotted into the Qatari record of
seeking to bring large and high-profile sporting events to the country,
57
albeit at an incomparably greater order of magnitude. Although Qatar
hosted the FIFA Under-20 Football World Championship as far back as
April 1995, shortly before Emir Hamad came to power, its association
with major sporting events took off in December 2006 when it hosted
the 15th Asian Games. Notably, this marked only the second occasion
in its history that the event was held in West Asia, following on from the
ninth edition in Tehran in 1974. For the first time, all forty-five affili-
ated nations took part in thirty-nine sports, sending a total of 9,520
athletes for the two-week event. Doha coped well with the large influx
of participants and spectators and the event was widely judged to be a
resounding success that considerably raised the profile of its lead organ-
iser, the twenty-six-year old Heir Apparent Sheikh Tamim.52 More than
$3 billion was spent in upgrading Qatar’s sporting facilities, including
the expansion of the Khalifa International Stadium and the aforemen-
tioned Aspire indoor multi-sport complex. As a result of the Asian
Games, Qatar claimed to already have in place 70 per cent of the venues
and facilities should it be selected one day to host an Olympic Games.53
â•… Qatar’s success in staging a regional-level tournament was replicated
twice in 2011 when Doha hosted both the football Asian Cup in
January and the multi-sport Arab Games in December. Although both
events suffered from relatively low attendances and a lack of local inter-
est, they further boosted Qatar’s credentials as an effective host nation
of international sporting events. The Arab Games, in particular, were
memorable for the warmth of the welcome given to the free Libyan
team, which was participating in its first international tournament since
the downfall and death of Colonel Gaddafi.54 Given the aggressive
branding strategy that was underway and in light of the successful host-
ing of the 2006 Asian Games and the euphoric triumph of the 2022
World Cup bid, it was inevitable that the Qatari leadership would even-
tually bid for the biggest prize of all. However, Doha’s bids for both the
2016 Olympic Games (which were awarded to Rio de Janeiro) and the
2020 Olympic Games (which were awarded to Tokyo) both ended in
disappointment as it did not make the final shortlist in either, despite
making history as the first Arab city to make a bid for the Games. Qatar
also lost out in the race to host the 2017 IAAF Athletics World
Championships, which were instead awarded to the 2012 Olympic host
city London, although the setback was counterbalanced by the awarding
of a regular Diamond League athletic meeting in Doha.
58
POWER AND INFLUENCE
â•… The failure to win the rights to host the Olympic Games reflects a
degree of lingering uncertainty among sporting administrators about
Qatar’s suitability for the biggest events of all. Part of this relates to the
extremely hot summer climate where daytime temperatures approach
fifty degrees Celsius or 122 degrees Fahrenheit, and the revelations that
the planned air-conditioned stadiums that were an integral part of
its World Cup bid may have to be scaled-back after the designs were
Â€
found to be overly expensive and environmentally unsustainable.55 The

unseemly spat between members of UEFA and FIFA boards over
whether to switch the World Cup from summer to winter hardly helped
Qatar’s image. The doubts reached a nadir with Sepp Blatter’s remark-
able acknowledgement in September 2013 that the selection of Qatar as
host might have been a “mistake.”56 Critics also point to the difficulty of
forecasting political and security developments in such a volatile region
over the lengthy time-span between winning the hosting rights and
actually hosting a major tournament. Anything, they argue, might hap-
pen, from a renewed conflict in the Gulf to confrontations with Iran
and the outbreak of serious domestic unrest within the GCC states.
â•… A powerful case in point is the chain of events that triggered the Arab
Spring uprisings. Mohamed Bouazizi’s desperate act of self-immolation
occurred on 17 December 2010, just fifteen days after the 2022 bid was
Â€
won, setting in motion profound political, economic and social upheaval

across the Middle East and North Africa, but at the time completely
unforeseen in the bid documents. It is an interesting moot point
whether Qatar would still have been awarded the World Cup had the
vote taken place a month or two later when the uprisings were in full
swing. A final concern, raised primarily by Western commentators,
relates to issues such as the availability of alcohol for spectators, toler-
ance toward gay and lesbian fans, and not least, whether Israeli partici-
pants and supporters would be welcomed. But unlike the United Arab
Emirates—which infamously refused to permit top Israeli female tennis
player Shahar Pe’er to participate at the Dubai Tennis Championships
in February 2009—Qatar welcomed her at the Qatar Open, where she
became the first Israeli sportsperson to compete in a Gulf state.57
â•… Hosting major events is the first strand of Qatar’s sports branding; the
second is association with global sports icons. This has been most appar-
ent in three sports: tennis, golf and football. The Qatar Open is the first
tournament in the men’s tennis calendar, and since 2009 Roger Federer
59
and Rafael Nadal have ceremonially opened the tennis “season.” This has
involved them playing each other in innovative locations across Doha,
such as on a boat in Doha Bay, on a “magic carpet” in the central Souq
Waqif, and on New Year’s Day 2012, in the newly-constructed Katara
cultural amphitheatre at sunset.58 Similarly, the golfing calendar starts in
Qatar as organisers take advantage of the winter sunshine before the
heat sets in. Thus the Qatar Masters was founded in 1998 and has
grown into a lucrative event with $2.5 million prize-money. Sponsored
since 2006 by Commercial Bank, the event is one of three tournaments
on the European Tour that take place in the Gulf, alongside the HSBC
Golf Championship in Abu Dhabi and the Omega Dubai Desert
Classic. The tournament attracted headlines in January 2013 for refus-
ing to pay the $3 million appearance fee demanded by former world
number one and fourteen-time major winner Tiger Woods, declaring
instead that the figure was “not worth paying.”59
â•… In football, Qatar’s domestic league has attracted top international
stars reaching the end of their careers. Spanish and Argentine legends
Pep Guardiola and Gabriel Batistuta both arrived in 2003 to play for
Al-Ahli and Al-Arabi respectively. The Al-Sadd club has also imported a
number of high-profile players, including former World Cup winners
Frank Leboeuf of France and Romario of Brazil, and in 2012, ex-Real
Madrid superstar Raul. Moreover, since 2010 Qatar has been associated
with FC Barcelona, one of the most attractive and successful football
teams in the world, through the sponsorship first of the Qatar FoundaÂ�
tion and then of Qatar Airways. The following year, Qatar Sports
Investment (QSI), a subsidiary of the Qatar Investment Authority,
acquired a majority stake in the French club Paris Saint-Germain (PSG),
just months before Al Jazeera Sports purchased the broadcasting rights
for the French football league. The self-reinforcing paths of Qatari
inroads into French football became evident when the director of Al
Jazeera Sports, Nasser al-Khelaifi, was named president of PSG, and the
Qatar National Bank and the Qatar Tourism Authority unveiled major
sponsorship agreements with the team.60
International Travel and Tourism

Over the past decade, a prominent feature of “Gulf development” has
been the careful nurturing for the GCC of a global reputation as a safe
60
POWER AND INFLUENCE
place to do business in an otherwise insecure region. The UAE led the
way as particularly Dubai and latterly Abu Dhabi created special eco-
nomic and legal zones for foreign companies, worked to attract high
levels of foreign direct investment, marketed themselves as regional hubs
for multinational corporations, and developed a comprehensive infra-
structural web of connectivity interlinking them with the global econ-
omy.61 Bahrain, too, embarked upon an aggressive self-branding promo-
tion as a tourist- and investment-friendly destination. This was achieved
partially through the slogan “Business-Friendly Bahrain” stamped into
all visitors’ passports and adorning the sides of London black taxis, and
also through the hosting of prestigious international events, such as the
Bahrain Grand Prix. Together, they demonstrated how the GCC states
used the lucrative MICE (Meetings, Incentives, Conferences, Events)
circuit to place them firmly on the global map in the 2000s.
â•… The development of regional aviation hubs was integral to this
approach. In the Gulf, Kuwait and Bahrain led the way with the cre-
ation of Gulf Air (in 1950) and Kuwait Airways (in 1954). Initially
formed as Gulf Aviation to serve the British-protected sheikhdoms in
the Gulf, the governments of Qatar, Bahrain, Abu Dhabi and Oman
assumed control of Gulf Air following full independence in 1971.
However, the pan-Gulf ownership concept broke down as Dubai and
Qatar established their own airlines (Emirates in 1985 and Qatar
Airways in 1997) and Abu Dhabi and Oman also pulled out, effectively
making Gulf Air the national carrier of Bahrain in 2007. The launch of
Dubai’s Emirates (in 1985) and Abu Dhabi’s Etihad (in 2003) were
especially significant, as the rulers of the respective emirates injected
enormous amounts of resources into the airlines and associated avia-
tion infrastructure.62 This included the massive expansion of Dubai
Â€
International Airport and the bulk purchasing of state-of-the-art long-

range aircraft such as the Boeing 787 Dreamliner and Airbus A380
“double-decker” plane. These enabled Etihad and Emirates to position
themselves as “global super-connectors” capable of linking any two
points in the world.63
â•… Bahrain and the UAE therefore pioneered the branding of the Gulf as
a destination for international travel and tourism in the 2000s. However,
both countries ran into serious difficulties with the onset of the Arab
Spring, severely damaging their international credibility and reputation.
In Bahrain, a popular pro-democracy movement briefly threatened to
61
topple the ruling Al-Khalifa family in February and March 2011 before
being crushed with brute force and the intervention of Saudi and Emirati
forces. The violence caused great harm to the “Business-Friendly Bahrain”
strategy, as international and institutional partners distanced themselves
from a regime fighting for its survival against the wishes of many of its
citizenry. Thus, the Bahrain Grand Prix was cancelled in 2011 and held
under lockdown in 2012 while other major international events, such as
the Volvo Desert Classic golf tournament and the Manama Security
Dialogue convened by the prestigious International Institute for Strategic
Studies think-tank, were also called off.64
â•… The UAE did not experience similar mass protests, but its leaders pre-
emptively tightened what was already one of the region’s most controlled
states. The high-profile case of the “UAE Five” detainees in the spring of
2011 targeted individuals and civil society groups that had signed a peti-
tion calling for modest political reform.65 The government’s steadfast
reliance on suppressing opposition voices reflected their nervousness
about the potential spread of protests from other countries, magnified by
the large discrepancies in wealth between Abu Dhabi and Dubai and the
five northern Emirates. Waves of arrests of opposition and human rights
activists in the spring and summer of 2012, and the closing down or
forcing out of research institutes such as the Gulf Research Centre and
Harvard University’s Dubai Initiative as well as regional hubs of the
Konrad Adenauer Foundation and the National Democratic Institute,
undermined the record built up by the country’s rulers as an innovative
partner in global educational and research networks.66
â•… Qatar is noticeably less vulnerable to the sorts of domestic tensions
that have plagued its regional competitors. This has accorded it a power-
ful layer of protection around its self-branding in the international tour-
ism and trade sectors, especially as its rivals falter. This is important as
the country embarks upon a decade of infrastructural and touristic
development ahead of the 2022 FIFA World Cup. Like its regional
competitors Emirates and Etihad, Qatar Airways began a process of
rapid expansion in the 2000s, and has similarly developed into a global
super-connector. Many of its new routes reflect and anticipate the shift-
ing balance of geo-economic power, such as the direct routes announced
in 2010 to Sao Paulo and Tokyo. Moreover, the eventual opening of the
massive but much-delayed Hamad International Airport in 2014 will
allow Qatar to compete directly with Dubai for the title of regional avia-
62
POWER AND INFLUENCE
tion hub. It will eventually be linked to the new Doha metro system
when it opens later in the decade.
â•… The scale of ambition as Qatar embarks on its decade of development
ahead of 2022 is evidenced in the actual and future growth in the vol-
ume of hotel rooms in the country. This stood at an estimated 10,000
in 2010 with an additional 3,500 being added in 2011 alone. A remark-
able building boom in West Bay, the Pearl island, and other new devel-
opments across Qatar saw the number of rooms rise to 30,000 by 2013.
Astonishingly, by the time of the World Cup, Qatar’s winning bid
pledged to provide a minimum of 84,000 hotel rooms to cater for an
estimated 400,000 attendees. This raises serious questions about the
sustainability of Qatari growth patterns either side of the World Cup, as
Qatar remains a relatively low-volume tourist destination, with an esti-
mated 95 per cent of all visitors coming for business rather than plea-
sure, and even Qatar Airways marketing itself more as a hub and con-
nector rather than a destination in itself.67 There is a clear risk of
over-supply, raising awkward memories of the crash of the residential
and office-space real estate bubble in Dubai in 2008 which resulted in
historically-low occupancy levels and a continuing problem of new stock
commissioned during the height of the bubble entering the market and
driving rates down even further.
â•… Concerns for long-term sustainability may be mitigated somewhat as
the Qatari leadership has perfected the practice of bidding for and host-
ing major international meetings. It has done so in an innovative man-
ner that has greatly enhanced its global profile and country-branding by
reaching out in economic and governance sectors not commonly associ-
ated with the Gulf region. Thus, in February 2009, Doha hosted the
fourth Global Conference of the Extractive Industries Transparency
Initiative (EITI), on the theme of “Establishing Resource Transparency.”
This was despite the fact that Qatar was neither a compliant nor a can-
didate country to actually join the EITI, or even a supporter intending
to implement its values. Association with the event nevertheless played
into the Qatari projection of an image of itself as a responsible global
actor, even though few people within Qatar appeared aware of it ever
having taken place.68
â•… The same may be said of the successful bid to host the 18th United
Nations Conference of the Parties (COP 18) Climate Change Conference
in Doha in November 2012. This allowed Qatar to move beyond its
63
hitherto-obstructionist image in climate change negotiations, and
attempt to differentiate itself from its Gulf neighbours. Moving away
from the “hard-line” positions of Saudi Arabia and Kuwait in previous
rounds of climate change negotiation, hosting the COP was intended to
project an image of a state wealthy in hydrocarbons that was willing to
engage with rather than block action on this pressing international issue.
It also represented a domestic response to raise Qatar’s profile vis-à-vis
Abu Dhabi’s attempt to project regional leadership on climate change
and clean energy issues through its multi-billion dollar Masdar Project
funded by the Abu Dhabi Future Energy Company, and its hosting of
the International Renewable Energy Agency.69
Clean Energy Development

The fifth dimension of Qatar’s multi-pronged branding strategy is its
nurturing of a regional hub for cutting-edge research and development
into clean energy. As the abovementioned initiatives in Abu Dhabi indi-
cate, this is a crowded field in the Gulf. In recent years Saudi Arabia has
launched the King Abdullah City for Atomic and Renewable Energy
(KA-CARE) and the $10 billion-endowed King Abdullah University of
Science and Technology (KAUST), which opened in 2009. The latter
includes a dedicated research track examining resources, energy and
environmental issues with particular emphasis on clean combustion
technologies and solar and alternative energy science. Also opening in
2009 was the Masdar Institute of Science and Technology (MIST) in
Abu Dhabi, providing a world-leading platform for research into renew-
able energy and sustainable development in a research collaboration with
the prestigious Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT) in Boston.70
â•… Undaunted, Qatar has in recent years launched a number of high-
profile and large-scale projects of its own. As part of the Kyoto Protocol
to the United Nations Framework on Combating Climate Change
(UNFCCC), the Al-Shaheen Oilfield Gas Recovery and Utilisation
Project became the first registered Clean Development Mechanism ini-
tiative in the Gulf region in May 2007. This aimed to recover and utilise
the 4,100 tons of gas per day lost to flaring by exporting it to Qatar
Petroleum for domestic consumption and to significantly reduce green-
house gas emissions in the process.71 On a much greater scale altogether
is the Ras Laffan Industrial City. Since its launch in 1996, Ras Laffan
64
POWER AND INFLUENCE
has developed into one of the fastest-growing industrial cities in the
world, and an integrated hub for the production and export of liquefied
natural gas and gas-to-liquids. Already by 2009, it employed more than
100,000 people in twenty-two local and international companies, and
was fostering a reputation as one of the world’s leading green industrial
zones through its focus on clean gas. In 2007, it saw the opening of the
world’s first commercial-size GTL by Qatar Petroleum for the produc-
tion of relatively clean liquid fuels from gas.72
â•… Similar in scope and ambition to Ras Laffan is the current develop-
ment of Energy City Qatar (ECQ). This $2.6 billion initiative launched
in 2006 and is destined to become the first dedicated hydrocarbon
industry cluster in the world, providing a single point of access to mar-
kets and expertise in sectors ranging from oil and gas production to
downstream activities, shipping, market research and energy trading.
Importantly, it is fully LEED-certified (Leadership in Energy and
Environmental Design) and is being constructed with sustainable build-
ing materials and water, and energy efficiency in mind. When it eventu-
ally opens its doors after going through a restructuring process in 2013,
it aims to become a flagship example of an entire energy business centre
“going green.” Moreover, by positioning the careful use and conservation
of natural resources at the heart of business growth, ECQ is intended to
send a clear message to the international community that Qatar is serious
about the sustainable development of its hydrocarbon resources.73
â•… The various initiatives described above hold Qatar in good stead as it
approaches a pivotal point in its energy development. With the LNG
production target of 77 million tons per year being reached in December
2010, and with a moratorium on new gas projects in the North Field in
place until at least 2014, attention is now shifting from upstream explo-
ration to downstream development. This involves moving up the value
chain and becoming a global leader in the production of petrochemicals
and aluminium, as well as fertilisers and condensates. Together, these
industries tie into a network of sophisticated value-creation that can
further leverage Qatar’s comparative advantage in hydrocarbons by using
these resources to shift toward the “green economy.” They will be critical
to moving into what the West Asia–North Africa (WANA) Forum and
Prince Hassan bin Talal of Jordan have labelled the “third industrial
revolution” of a resource-efficient and low-carbon post-oil economy.74
â•… The five major dimensions of Qatari state-branding described in this
chapter are by no means the sole areas where the country is making
65
waves. Nor are they necessarily all part of a single integrated grand
design; instead, what they demonstrate is the high level of political will
and financial capacity that bring together the various arms of Qatar’s
model of “state capitalism” as and when required. The result is a dynamic
and sometimes dizzying pace of development that has placed Qatar well
and truly “on the map” and associated it with a wide variety of success
stories. This clever use of national resources has combined with the state
of crisis in the international economic system, the faltering of the
“Washington Consensus” and the Washington Security Doctrine in the
wake of the global financial crisis, and the flawed US-led wars in
Afghanistan and Iraq. Qatar’s decisions demonstrated that it is possible
for a small state to emerge as a global player on its own terms, while the
outbreak of the Arab uprisings initially heightened the contrast with
beleaguered regional neighbours. Blessed with a fortuitous combination
of a small national population and massive resource endowment, Qatar
was in the happy position of being able to see the Arab Spring as an
opportunity, rather than a challenge, and its foreign policy choices when
the regional upheaval began in early-2011 reflected this.
66
3
DRIVERS AND MOTIVATIONS

OF QATARI FOREIGN POLICY
Building on the examination of Qatari state-branding initiatives and its

multifaceted leveraging of power and influence, this chapter focuses
specifically on the drivers and motivations of Qatari foreign policy. It
explains why (and how) Qatar’s flexible and independent regional and
foreign policy evolved since the mid-1990s, and how it managed to
balance relations with a wide variety of state and non-state actors. This
was no mean feat in the tangled context of the Middle East, where
diplomatic rivalries and regional and international alliances have formed
part of a perpetual power game. The chapter analyses the factors that
drove Emir Sheikh Hamad bin Khalifa Al-Thani and his prime/foreign
minister, Sheikh Hamad bin Jassim Al-Thani (HBJ), to adopt such a
distinctive policy prior to and during the Arab Spring, and demonstrates
how regional dynamics in the Middle East in the 2000s cleared the path
for such an innovative new approach to foreign policy.
â•… Rooted in a desire for regional autonomy and international protec-
tion as well as the search for a niche-level breakthrough, the opening
section describes how Qatar came to prioritise diplomatic mediation as
a constitutionally mandated core of its regional and foreign policy.
Examples of this in Yemen, Lebanon, Darfur and elsewhere will be ana-
lysed in detail in the latter part of this chapter as they benefited from a
strong and distinctive foreign policy made possible by the fact that
67
between 2007 and 2013 the foreign minister was also the prime minis-
ter, and that responsibility for foreign policy formulation rested within
an extremely small circle of elite decision-makers. The following section
explores the mechanics of Qatari policy-making and in particular its
highly personalised and elite-level dimensions. This made it possible for
Qatar to focus closely on specific objectives and mobilise relevant aspects
of its “state capitalist” development model, as evidenced in recent litera-
ture on Qatar’s “business diplomacy.” However, it also led to drawbacks
in institutionalisation and capacity building among a very small cadre
of professional expertise in Qatar. These shortcomings have already been
noted in studies of Qatari mediation and will be examined further in the
sectional overview of Qatari mediation. Finally, the chapter ends by
noting the challenge that Qatar’s rise poses to theoretical assumptions
regarding the perceived roles of small states in the international system
and world politics.
Rise of an Independent Foreign Policy

Although the rise of Qatar as a noted mediator in conflict-affected envi-
ronments only became recognised in the late-2000s, observers have
noted how it is rooted in longer-term policies stretching back to at least
2000. In tandem with the political and economic reforms described in
the previous chapter that distinguished the new emir from his GCC
counterparts, Sheikh Hamad and his energetic foreign minister from
1992, HBJ, identified diplomatic mediation as yet another niche in the
broader state-branding process. Similar to the creation of Al Jazeera and
its pioneering role in the liberalisation of news broadcasting and televi-
sion markets in the Gulf, mediation in regional conflicts marked Qatar’s
new leadership out as distinct from its neighbours, both in the Gulf and
the broader Middle East. The basic rationale behind Qatari thinking was
laid out by the emir in September 2007, as he told the annual General
Debate of the United Nations General Assembly that “the major con-
flicts in the world have become too big for one single power to handle
them on its own.”1 These words had particular resonance coming as they
did at a time when the US-led post-2003 occupation of Iraq was tearing
the country apart and raising sectarian tensions across the region.
â•… Diplomatic mediation went hand in hand with the carving of an
independent and innovative regional and foreign policy. Gulbrandsen
68
has noted how the desire to pursue policies autonomous from Saudi
Arabia predated Emir Sheikh Hamad’s formal accession in 1995 and
actually began in the early-1990s, when he was heir apparent (and
already the most dominant figure in Qatari policy-making). Furthermore,
Gulbrandsen demonstrates how the divergence from Saudi-centric
regional policies emerged during this period of considerable friction and
border tensions with Saudi Arabia.2 An early example of the complex
interlinking of regional factors in foreign policy-making was provided
during the brief yet violent Yemeni civil war in 1994, when Qatar’s
refusal to side with the South Yemeni forces “can be traced directly to its
border conflict and other problems with Saudi Arabia.”3
â•… Two additional factors embedded the notion of mediation within the
core of Qatari foreign policy objectives. In the early- and mid-2000s,
Qatar assumed the rotating leadership of both the Organisation of the
Islamic Conference (2000–3) and the Gulf Cooperation Council
(2002), as well as the chairmanship of the major G-77+China grouping
at the United Nations (2004). These roles provided a regional and inter-
national platform for the assertion of Qatari foreign policy ideals, and
they culminated in the prestigious award of a two-year seat on the
Security Council of the United Nations in 2006–7. Importantly, Qatar
was elected to the Council on a near-unanimous vote (186 to three) in
the General Assembly, visibly demonstrating the early success of its poli-
cies of open engagement with the international community. Moreover,
the two-year term was contemporaneous with a number of particularly
intractable regional conflicts that offered a high-profile platform for
Qatar’s “new” style of foreign policy.4
â•… During its two years on the Security Council, Qatar attracted inter-
national attention, both positive and negative, which fostered an aware-
ness of the sometimes-contradictory dimensions of the country’s careful
balancing of regional policies. Thus, Qatar organised a summit on
peace-building in the Arab world while paradoxically attempting to
block Security Council resolutions supporting the arrest of Sudanese
president Omar al-Bashir, following his indictment by the International
Criminal Court on charges of war crimes.5 In July 2006, it was the only
country to vote against Security Council Resolution 1696 (passed by
fourteen to one) expressing concern over Iranian intentions regarding its
nuclear programme and demanding that Tehran halt the enrichment of
uranium. Shortly thereafter, in October 2006, Qatar sponsored media-
69
tory efforts between the competing Palestinian factions of Hamas and
Fatah in an attempt to bring about reconciliation between the split
control of West Bank and Gaza. This well-meaning initiative was quickly
upstaged by the Saudi-sponsored (and ultimately short-lived) Mecca
Agreement between Hamas and Fatah in March 2007, which failed to
prevent the descent into all-out conflict between the two sides in June,
and the consequent division between the Hamas-controlled Gaza strip
and the West Bank governed by the Palestinian Authority.6
â•… This greater involvement in regional and international affairs built
upon the second factor integral to Qatar’s rise as a mediatory power. As
described in Chapter One, a new permanent constitution was drawn up
and adopted in April 2003. Article 7 mandated specifically that Qatari
foreign policy “is based on the principle of strengthening international
peace and security by means of encouraging peaceful resolution of inter-
national disputes.” According to Gulbrandsen, a Norwegian diplomat
who covered the Qatari interests desk from Abu Dhabi, this made Qatar
“one of the few countries in the world which has ‘peaceful resolution’ of
disputes inscribed in its actual constitution.”7 Placing the principle of
mediation at the core of foreign policy objectives reflected both the
idiosyncratic motivations of the new Qatari leadership and its awareness
that it offered the chance to make a bold statement of autonomy on the
regional and international stage.
A Balancing Act
Support for diplomatic initiatives also made pragmatic sense in a volatile
regional environment with multiple and overlapping fault-lines. As a
small peninsula-country quite literally surrounded by larger neighbours
to the west (Saudi Arabia), north (Iraq), and east (Iran) and inhabiting
a region that had witnessed three major inter-state wars since 1980,
Qatar’s precarious sandwiching between neighbouring would-be hege-
monic powers required officials to skilfully balance competing and often
conflicting interests. Moreover, in academic discourse of foreign policy
analysis, this concern overlapped with what Nonneman and others have
labelled “omni-balancing,” whereby domestic considerations intersect
with regional and international ones to frame eventual policy-making.8
Thus, while Qatari diplomatic mediation and state-branding does not
necessarily reflect the outcome of domestic pressures or influences, the
70
projection of regional and international influence does increase the
number of external partners with a stake in local security and stability
within Qatar itself. Here, the legacy of the speed with which the inter-
national community mobilised in response to the Iraqi invasion of
Kuwait in 1990 left a powerful imprint on the minds of Gulf leaders.
Put simply, the greater the level of external ties with long-term interests
in Qatar, the larger the likelihood that these may come in useful during
times of need.
â•… This resulted in an often-uneasy equilibrium that appeared to outside
observers as schizophrenic and even contradictory in practice. In the
words of veteran American military analyst Anthony Cordesman,
“Qatar is a country of opposites … its strategy depends on the careful
balancing of many competing forces.”9 A prominent example was the
hosting of the US Central Command (CENTCOM) throughout the
“war on terror” in the 2000s, even as US officials frequently criticised
the tone and content of Al Jazeera’s coverage of the wars in Afghanistan
and Iraq and its broadcasting of messages by Osama bin Laden. The
close official rapport between Qatari and US military and defence inter-
ests was not universally acclaimed within Qatar. Shortly after 9/11,
Muhammad Al-Musfir, a professor of political science at Qatar University,
bluntly told Mary Ann Weaver of National Geographic that
…Your military is a very provocative element, and it’s not just my students who
are saying this. Go to the suq. Go downtown. Go to any café. The attitude is
decidedly anti-American.10
â•…Animosity between the US government and Al Jazeera escalated sharply

particularly during the George W. Bush presidential administration
Â€
(2001–9), and was magnified by the coincidental, if accidental, shelling

of the Al Jazeera bureaus in both Kabul and Baghdad by US forces.
Despite this hostility, Qatar gave financial assistance to those Americans
whose livelihoods and homes were devastated by Hurricane Katrina in
New Orleans in 2005. When a visiting American official in Doha expresÂ�
sed his gratitude to Hamad bin Jassim, the prime minister responded that
“We might have our own Katrina”—a reference to the fact that Qatar
might one day be in need of support from the United States.11 Other acts
of generosity were lower in profile but equally designed to win “hearts and
minds” among the political classes that mattered inside the Washington
Beltway—a prime example was the provision of $2.5 million in 2008–9
71
toward the $50 million renovation of Ford’s Theatre (the site of the assas-
sination of Abraham Lincoln in 1865 by John Wilkes Booth).12
â•… A similar interplay between pragmatism and tension lay at the heart
of Qatar’s relationships with Iran and Israel. It behoves Doha to main-
tain constructive ties with Tehran to ensure the stability of the North
Field, the engine of Qatar’s economic security. Iran and Qatar agreed
their offshore boundary in 1969 (before Qatari independence) but the
agreement does not cover the allocation of revenues from their shared
gas field. Instead, both sides began to separately develop their own por-
tion, working outward from the middle of the field.13 This was designed
to avoid potential disputes, but the subsequent discrepancy between
Qatar’s very fast-paced exploitation of its gas reserves compared with
Iran’s sanctions-induced slower development has periodically caused
friction. Indeed in 2004, Iran warned Qatar to decelerate its exploration
of the North Field or else it threatened to “find other ways and means
of resolving the issue.”14 As with Kuwait and Oman, which also share
significant offshore oil and gas fields with Iran, the issue will continue
to provide the Iranians with a certain degree of leverage, even if it is
more rhetorical than actual.
â•… More positively, Qatar lacks the complicating sectarian factor that exists
in Bahrain, Saudi Arabia and, to a lesser extent, Kuwait (which all possess
sizeable Shiite communities that frequently are treated with suspicion by
governing authorities) in determining how relations with Iran are played
out domestically. It also does not have outstanding or residual territorial
disputes with Iran, as the UAE and Bahrain do. Rather, the bilateral rela-
tionship between Doha and Tehran is more pragmatic than ideologically
charged, although Qatar’s hosting of CENTCOM remains a key source
of contention between the capitals. This was very evident in May 2006,
when the emir was reported to have made a private visit to Tehran to
discuss Gulf security in the aftermath of the US-led invasion and occupa-
tion of Iraq. Rather than receiving assurances of non-aggression in the
event of any American (or Israeli) attack on Iran, he was apparently
told bluntly by President Mahmoud Ahmedinejad that as the host of
Â€
CENTCOM, Qatar would be the first target for Iranian retaliation.15

â•… Pragmatic acknowledgement of the need to maintain at least a work-
able relationship with Iran has merged with Qatar’s advocacy of diplo-
matic mediation. This was evidenced on three separate occasions during
the decade of confrontation between Iran and the international commu-
72
nity. During its two-year tenure on the UN Security Council, Qatar
defied the United States by voting against Resolution 1696 in July 2006
concerning Iran’s alleged nuclear proliferation. Three years later, following
the contested re-election of President Ahmedinejad and the brutal crush-
ing of the Green Movement calling for political reform, Qatar became
one of the first Arab states to congratulate him on his controversial vic-
tory, with the emir responding to Arab criticism of his action by noting
that: “Iran has had four presidents since its revolution, while some Arab
countries have not changed their leaders at all.”16 Finally and most
recently, then-Qatari state minister for foreign affairs (and as of June 2013
Hamad bin Jassim’s successor as foreign minister), Khalid bin Mohammed
Al-Attiyah, told the prestigious international Munich Security Conference
in February 2012 that “with our allies and friends in the West we should
open a serious dialogue with the Iranians,” as tightening sanctions further
would only aggravate an already volatile situation.17
â•… The pragmatic cooperation inherent in Qatar’s relationship with Iran
was also evident in its forging of ties with Israel. Along with Oman,
Qatar began a pattern of normalisation in the mid-1990s with the state
that many Arab countries either refused to recognise or imposed direct
and secondary boycotts on all forms of contact with. Although Egypt
and Jordan pursued similar paths of opening-up, the Qatari decision
differed sharply from the prevailing attitude toward Israel in the other
Gulf states. Relations started after the 1991 Gulf War when Qatar par-
ticipated in the Arab-Israeli peace conference in Madrid, and later
became the first GCC country to grant de facto recognition to Israel.
They expanded significantly in November 1995 when Qatar and Israel
signed a letter of intent for a long-term gas deal.18 Curiously, this
involved the later-to-be-disgraced Enron Corporation as the go-between
to avoid any direct dealings, although subsequent negotiations failed to
make progress on a deal reported to be worth up to $4 billion.19 Ties
peaked in May 1996 when an Israeli trade representation office opened
in Doha, one month after Israeli prime minister Shimon Peres visited
Qatar.20 Eighteen months later, in November 1997, Qatar displayed
its independent streak as it refused to cancel a MENA Economic
Â€
Conference in Doha in the face of concerted pressure from across the

Arab world to withdraw an invitation to Israel to participate. Qatari
leaders insisted on their right to formulate an autonomous foreign pol-
icy and invite whomever they wished, provoking particular anger in
Saudi Arabia and Egypt.21
73
â•… During the 2000s, the relationship between Qatar and Israel fluctu-
ated in line with broader political and security developments in the
Middle East. The outbreak of the second intifada in the occupied
Palestinian territories in October 2000 led to renewed pressure on Qatar
from the Organisation of the Islamic Conference (which it led as rotat-
ing president) to sever its ties with Israel. Yet in 2005, Qatar requested
(and received) Israeli support for its campaign to win a seat on the UN
Security Council. This notwithstanding, Qatari leaders did not shirk
from fierce criticism of Israeli actions during the thirty-three-day con-
flict with Hezbollah in July and August 2006. They used their position
on the Security Council to draw attention to the “disproportionate”
nature of Israel’s response. Foreign Minister Hamad bin Jassim called
upon the Council to demand an immediate ceasefire and complete
withdrawal of Israeli forces from Lebanon.22
â•… The trajectory of Qatar’s relationship with Israel came full circle in
January 2009 in the wake of the Israeli military incursion into Gaza.
Amid mounting Arab and international outrage at the collateral damage
inflicted on longsuffering Palestinian civilians, Qatari officials permitted
local demonstrations to take place in Doha.23 More pertinently, they also
ordered the closure of the Israeli trade representation office, and gave its
staff seven days to leave the country. This was part of a general suspen-
sion of ties with Israel announced by Qatari officials at a hastily con-
vened Arab “summit” in Doha.24 Saudi Arabia, Egypt, and six other
members of the twenty-two-nation Arab League boycotted the meeting,
and attended instead a rival summit in Riyadh. Interestingly, the dissent-
ing countries expressed their anger not at Qatar’s long-standing connec-
tions with Israel, but at its perceived support for Hamas. It underlined
the deep divisions within the Arab world over such emotive issues as the
Palestinian factional struggle and the proper response to Israel.25
â•… Developments in October 2012 neatly epitomised the diplomatic
tightrope in action. On 23 October, the emir, accompanied by Sheikha
Â€
Mozah and the prime minister, became the first head of state to visit
Gaza since the Hamas takeover of power in 2007. His visit symbolically
represented a breaching of the punishing Israeli- and US-led sanctions
on the Hamas-controlled territory only weeks before a new Israeli attack
the following month. In his welcoming address, Hamas’s prime minister,
Ismail Haniya, acknowledged the significance of the visit, telling the
emir that: “Today you are a big guest, great guest, declaring officially the
74
breaking of the political and economic siege that was imposed on Gaza
… Today we declare victory on this siege through this blessed, historic
visit.” The emir reciprocated his warmth by pledging to increase Qatari
investment in Gaza from $250 million to $400 million to finance
urgently needed housing, health and infrastructural projects.26
â•… In a Gaza economy hollowed out by sanctions and the drying-up of
inward investment, such an injection was a profound statement of
intent and a public rejection of the international community’s policy of
isolating Hamas. However, it also revealed both Qatar’s self-confidence
in undertaking such a brazen move, as well as a lack of concern at any
possible reaction from or opposition by Israel. An Israeli spokesman for
the Foreign Ministry, Yigal Palmor, melodramatically accused the emir
of having “thrown peace under the bus” and suggested that “most of the
money that he’s pouring into Gaza will go into Hamas pockets, directly
or indirectly.”27 The same Israeli official also argued: “We find it weird
that the Emir does not support all of the Palestinians but sides with
Hamas over the Palestinian Authority … The Emir has chosen his camp
and it is not good.”28 However, a more nuanced explanation from the
visit was made by David Roberts of RUSI Qatar, as he contextualised
the trip in terms of Qatar’s relationship with Iran rather than Israel. In
an article published in Foreign Policy, Roberts argued that Qatari policy,
both in Syria and in Gaza, was part of a strategy to “unseat and reorient
crucial Iranian allies around the Middle East” and “amputate a long-
used, effective limb of Iranian foreign policy.” Thus, replacing Iran as the
main foreign funder of Hamas and supporting the organisation follow-
ing its enforced departure from Iranian-allied Syria, formed part of this
objective of weakening Iran’s influence in the heart of the Middle East.29
â•… Although unrelated, the abovementioned Gaza initiative was swiftly
followed by two further episodes that demonstrated Qatar’s precarious
balancing act in motion once again. The first took the form of visits to
Doha first by the new head of Saudi Arabia’s General Intelligence
Directorate, Prince Bandar bin Sultan Al-Saud, on 10 October 2012,
Â€
and second by the Iranian foreign minister, Ali Akbar Salehi, just a day
later.30 Both men were in Doha to discuss various aspects of the Syrian
civil war, underscoring Qatar’s central role in positioning itself as the
regional intermediary. While the twin visits provided a reminder that
engaging in regional politics could yet generate blowback for Qatar
should events take on an unforeseen path of their own, unsubstantiated
75
rumours that Bandar and Salehi used the occasion to meet with each
other in Doha further reinforced the perception that Qatar was uniquely
placed to bridge divides and bring ostensible adversaries together—in
much the same way that the utility of the Taliban “office’ in Doha lay
more in its ability to bring Afghans and Americans together than any
functional mediatory capability.31
â•… Moreover, the second post-Gaza development took the form of a visit
of an Israeli trade delegation to Doha in May 2013. This signalled an
upturn in the Israeli-Qatari relationship, and prompted talk of a poten-
tial visit to Israel by a Qatari delegation as well as possible Qatari invest-
ments in Israel’s booming hi-tech sector.32 The fact that this took place
just weeks after Emir Sheikh Hamad suggested creating a $1 billion
“Jerusalem fund” for preserving the city as the capital of the Palestinian
state, and told the Arab League meeting in Doha in March 2013 that
“Arab rights are not [up] for compromise and Israel has to be aware of
this fact” spoke volumes about Qatari elites’ capacity to manoeuvre
along complex and often contradictory lines.33
Regional System in Flux

In addition to the rise of an independent foreign policy and the delicate
balancing of external relations, Qatari leaders took full advantage of a
third factor that shaped their regional posture after 1995. This was the
change in regional dynamics within the Middle East and, specifically,
the relative decline of Egypt and Saudi Arabia as traditional centres of
power and influence. This was a process that unfolded over years and
even decades, and arguably, in the Egyptian case, was traceable to the
fallout from its 1978 Camp David Accords and consequent peace agree-
ment with Israel. Egypt was suspended from the Arab League until 1989
in retaliation, and failed to regain its position at the heart of the Arab
world following its rehabilitation. Economic sluggishness combined
with political authoritarianism to stifle its domestic, let alone regional,
performance, which fell far short of the model of emulation it had been
under Gamal Abdul Nasser in the 1950s and 1960s.
â•… Thus, in the 1990s and 2000s, there opened up a vacuum of leader-
ship within the region which neither Saudi Arabia nor other regional
actors such as Syria or Algeria were able to fill. A combination of domes-
tic and regional considerations meant that all three countries focused
76
inward during the 1990s and early-2000s. These included the prolonged
and violent civil war in Algeria between 1992 and 1999, political transi-
tion and regime succession in Syria in 2000, and the aging and (after
1996) incapacitated leadership in Saudi Arabia, as well as the damage to
the kingdom’s international standing following the 9/11 terrorist attacks
on the United States. This presented opportunities to the new genera-
tion of Qatari leaders who came to power in Doha in the 1990s. A
symbolic example of this occurred in 2003 when US forces were rede-
ployed from the Prince Sultan airbase in Saudi Arabia, where they had
been based since the end of the 1991 Gulf War, to the newly-con-
structed Al-Udeid airbase in Qatar. Built at a cost exceeding $1 billion,
the move made strategic sense both for the US, for whom the Saudi
relationship was coming under increasing scrutiny in the febrile post-
9/11 atmosphere, and for Saudi Arabia, as the presence of Western
forces in the kingdom had been a rallying-cry for Osama bin Laden and
Al-Qaeda. Although their stationing on Qatari soil represented some-
thing of a risk in the context of the unpopularity of the “war on terror”
and regional anger at the US-led invasion and occupation of Iraq, the
arrival of US forces (and CENTCOM) did provide a powerful addi-
tional layer of security for Qatar, not least by giving the US a direct
stake in continuing domestic stability.34
â•… More broadly, the decline of the regional “system” in the Middle East
left it a dangerous and volatile place ripe for mediation. Regional con-
flicts and crises became interlocked and drawn together as they inter-
sected with globalising developments. This produced “a shared sense of
popular concern and militancy” over issues stretching from Palestine and
Iraq (in the 1990s) to the flow of fighters to Afghanistan and Kashmir.
A case in point was the stationing of American soldiers on Saudi Arabian
soil long after the liberation of Kuwait was completed in 1991, trigger-
ing the jihadist backlash that fuelled the rise of Osama bin Laden and
Al-Qaeda.35 No transformation of security or governance arrangements
occurred, as they did in Eastern Europe or in Latin America at the same
time. Instead, regimes across the Middle East and North Africa retained
a fragile political and economic legitimacy, and the idea of “security”
remained wedded to largely zero sum notions of “national” security,
which increasingly became synonymous with “regime” security.36
â•… Qatari foreign policy thus derived a somewhat fortuitous and largely
unanticipated benefit from the multiple crises in the Arab world. More
77
by accident than by design, Doha became host to a wide array of politi-
cal dissidents and opposition activists seeking refuge from oppression at
home. This fit into the emir’s projection of Qatar as a welcoming haven
for people (and organisations) fleeing regimes, but other than the cre-
ation of the Doha Centre for Media Freedom, appears to have operated
largely on an ad hoc basis. The aforementioned relationship with Yusuf
al-Qaradawi is the best known and the longest-lasting, and has given
depth and meaning to Qatar’s connections with the Muslim Brotherhood.
Recently, great benefit was derived from Qatari ties to Libyan opposi-
tion figures that played leading roles in the revolution that toppled the
Gaddafi regime in 2011. Among the Libyan exiles in Doha was an influ-
ential cleric, Ali al-Salabi who, together with his brother Ismael, rapidly
rose to prominence within the National Transitional Council (NTC).
While Ali had used his sanctuary in Doha to criticise the regime prior
to the uprising, Ismael organised his leadership of the Benghazi-based
Rafallah al-Sehati Companies into one of the best-equipped militias in
Libya, allegedly benefiting from regular shipments of arms from Qatar.
The Gulf States Newsletter referred to the al-Salabi relationship as “a link
to and a potential source of leverage for Qatar” among the NTC.37
â•… The intersection of regional and global insecurity became dramatically
clear on 11 September 2001. The 9/11 attacks on New York City and
Â€
Washington, DC underscored the threat from non-state actors taking

advantage of globalising flows of people, ideas, and money across state
boundaries.38 They showed how growing interdependencies and inter-
connectedness could also become potent sources of trans-national vul-
nerability, insecurity and conflict.39 In the Gulf states, the discovery that
seventeen of the nineteen hijackers were GCC nationals (fifteen from
Saudi Arabia and two from the UAE) highlighted the latent tensions
among segments of societies confronted with rapid socio-economic
modernisation and feelings of anger toward ruling elites. In response,
the Gulf endured its third major inter-state war in as many decades, as
the US formed an international coalition that attacked and quickly
occupied Iraq in 2003. The invasion demonstrated the weakness both of
the regional and the international system, as neither was able to prevent
a wounded superpower from launching a war of aggression lacking
United Nations approval and in defiance of world opinion.
â•… Yet 9/11 and its aftermath presented opportunities as well as threats
for nimble leaderships looking to stand out from the regional pack. This
78
was recognised early on by the emir and Hamad bin Jassim and was
clear in their aforementioned adoption of diplomatic mediation as a
central tool of foreign policy. It built upon structural changes to the
patterns of violence and insecurity whereby the majority of “new wars”
were occurring within societies rather than between states—labelled by
M.J. Williams “the dangerous intersection between development, gov-
Â€
ernance, and armed conflict.”40 Furthermore, the messy and protracted

outcome of the US-led military campaigns in Afghanistan and Iraq
reinforced the need to both rethink local and global security paradigms,
and adopt a fresh approach to resolving challenges to stability at domes-
tic and international levels.41
â•… The 2000s, therefore, represented a propitious moment for any
dynamic new actor seeking to emerge onto the international scene.
Qatar’s publicly-declared and constitutionally-mandated commitment
to mediation and addressing points of conflict in the Middle East
formed the basis for its rapid ascent as a key regional player, while LNG
underpinned its global reach (as noted in Chapter Two). In pursuing
this course of independent action, Qatar attempted to distance itself
from other regional actors, particularly Saudi Arabia and the UAE,
while retaining its identity as an Arab and Islamic state. In doing so, its
leaders sought to obtain legitimacy on the international stage and
develop a reputation for progressive leadership in the Middle East. They
also proved adept at pragmatically identifying and taking advantage of
the changing regional dynamics described above.42
Mechanics of Qatari Foreign Policy

This section examines how Qatari foreign policy was able to make such
a highly visible and quick impact across the region in the 2000s and
early-2010s. It argues that its “comparative advantage” in policy-formu-
lation was based on two interconnected factors. The first was the highly
personalised and elite-driven conduct of regional and foreign policy and
the extremely small circle of officials with policy-making responsibility.
The second was the ability to systematically mobilise all the facets of
Qatar’s “state capitalism” to direct and channel resources as and where
needed. Together, these factors ensured that foreign policy initiatives
benefited from lavish interpersonal and financial resources that ema-
nated from the very apex of the Qatari state, and enabled Qatar to create
79
a setting that was conducive to intense negotiation and productive
debate among previously disputing parties. However, the downside of
these advantages has been weak institutionalisation and a lack of profes-
sional capacity in Qatar’s small diplomatic corps, and consequent diffi-
culty in translating mediatory breakthrough into durable success.
Foreign Policy Elites

In all GCC states, the conduct of foreign policy is entrusted to a small
clique of senior members of the ruling families. Foreign ministries were
one of the so-called “sovereign ministries,” alongside interior and
defence, which have yet to be ceded to technocratic, non-royal control
and, in some cases, were held by the same senior royal for decades.43
Notable examples of ministerial longevity include Sheikh Sabah
Al-Ahmed Al-Sabah, the current emir of Kuwait, who was his country’s
foreign minister between 1963 and 2003, and Saudi Arabia’s foreign
minister since 1975, Prince Saud Al-Faisal Al-Saud (as of 2013 the
longest-serving foreign minister in the world). Meanwhile, the centrali-
sation of political power is most apparent in Oman, where Sultan
Qaboos bin Said is also the prime minister and heads the ministries of
finance, foreign affairs and defence. This extreme concentration of
power makes the Sultanate one of the most absolute monarchies in the
world, with even the limited reforms proposed after the outbreak of
socio-economic unrest in 2011 leaving the core of decision-making
structures untouÂ�ched.44 Set against this concentration of power is the
existence of intra-family factions and splits within other ruling Gulf
dynasties, which produce diverging policy priorities and mean that
“family rule” is far from monolithic or harmonious. Chapter One
described the numerous occasions throughout the twentieth century
when divisions within the Al-Thani family led to a change of ruler;
factionalism is also a notable feature of Al-Saud rule in Saudi Arabia,
Al-Sabah rule in Kuwait, and Al-Khalifa rule in Bahrain.
â•… In Qatar, the general direction of policy throughout the period prior
to and during the Arab Spring was set by the two most powerful men in
the country, Emir Sheikh Hamad bin Khalifa Al-Thani, and his prime
and foreign minister, Sheikh Hamad bin Jassim Al-Thani. Two other
influential actors also appeared as drivers of policy-making in the late-
2000s, namely the emir’s powerful second wife, Sheikha Mozah bint
80
Nasser Al-Missned, and their second son, the heir apparent, Sheikh
Tamim bin Hamad Al-Thani, who subsequently succeeded his father as
emir in June 2013. Together they formed a “ruling quadrumvirate” and,
while not a cohesive group with a rigidly shared agenda, nevertheless
represented a largely closed circle of senior decision-makers. This made
it difficult for external analysts and observers to penetrate or observe the
inner sanctum of Qatari foreign policy-formulation. It also resulted in a
guessing-game, to a certain extent, as summed up in a leaked US diplo-
matic cable from July 2008:
The Emir seems to be the only one in the government who has a vision for this
country. The details of that vision, however, are not entirely clear to anyone,
except perhaps the Emir himself and his closest associates.45
â•… Written around the time of Qatar’s mediatory breakthrough in solv-
ing Lebanon’s protracted political crisis, the cable encapsulates the rela-
tive incomprehension of external diplomats as they struggled to come to
terms with this sudden new entrant into international affairs. This point
has been developed further by David Roberts:
Wading through the reams of misinformation, clichés, propaganda, and vitriol
masquerading as analysis and reportage of Qatar’s foreign policy and its objec-
tives takes practice, perseverance, and a deep understanding of Qatar itself.
Arriving at any firm conclusions is further complicated by the conservative and
private nature of Qataris themselves, and the lack of any kind of meaningful
policy documents, white papers, official explanations, and overall transparency
throughout government.46
â•… The role of Emir Sheikh Hamad in overseeing Qatar’s rapid global
rise has been discussed at length in this and earlier chapters. Throughout
his eighteen-year rule, he was supported by Hamad bin Jassim (HBJ),
Qatar’s long-serving foreign minister (from 1992) and prime minister
from 2007, when he replaced one of the emir’s brothers, Abdullah bin
Khalifa Al-Thani, until 2013. HBJ is the highest-profile representative
of the Bani Jabir branch of the Al-Thanis who are descendants of the
third son of Qatar’s first ruler, Sheikh Mohammed bin Thani. The Bani
Jabir have never been serious claimants for political power and stood
apart from much of the fractious infighting that marred Al-Thani rule
in the twentieth century, instead focusing on developing substantial
business interests. These attributes came together in HBJ, whom
Gulbrandsen accurately describes as “a politician-cum-businessman” and
an archetypal “state capitalist.”47
81
â•… Indeed, HBJ’s range of interests and portfolios were as impressive as
they were numerous. In addition to his prime ministerial and Foreign
Ministry roles, he served on the Ruling Family Council and the Supreme
Council for the Investment of the Reserves of the State. In addition, he
was the vice-chairman and CEO of the Qatar Investment Authority and
chairman of its real estate arm (Qatari Diar) and its direct investment
arm (Qatar Holding), which made multiple high-profile acquisitions in
the United Kingdom, in particular. His sons also occupied top-level
positions that strengthened his influence in the state capitalist structure,
with his eldest son, Jassim bin Hamad Al-Thani, chairman of both
Qatar Islamic Bank and QInvest.48 Writing in June 2008, the Financial
Times noted a marked similarity between the investment strategies pur-
sued by the Qatar Investment Authority as an entity and HBJ as an
individual.49 The prominent and high-profile role of HBJ in the Qatar
Investment Authority portfolio was on full display when he opened
Europe’s tallest skyscraper, The Shard, alongside Prince Edward in
London in July 2012.50
â•… For much of the past two decades, HBJ has been actively involved in
various diplomatic mediation initiatives across the Arab and Islamic
world. This began in the 1990s in East Africa with the settlement of a
boundary dispute between Sudan and Eritrea. A decade later, HBJ
returned to the region to assist in the resolution of disputes between
Sudan and Chad (in 2009)51 and between Djibouti and Eritrea (in
2010).52 He was also instrumental in the three major Qatari diplomacy
drives in Yemen, Lebanon and Darfur that secured for the emirate its
reputation as a “non-stop mediator.” One well-placed Qatar-based
observer described the role HBJ played in facilitating the protracted
negotiations in Doha between the different Lebanese factions:
He played a key role in fostering a collegial and friendly atmosphere, doggedly
persisted in moving the talks forward despite days of deadlock, and diffused
tensions when the talks came close to collapsing.53
â•… The emir and HBJ worked productively and in tandem for most of
the 2000s. Toward the end of the decade two other influential partici-
pants in Qatari foreign policy joined them. The high-profile educational
and developmental projects of Sheikha Mozah bint Nasser Al-Missned
turned her into one of the most recognisable women in the Arab world.
In 2007, Forbes Magazine ranked her the seventy-ninth most powerful
82
woman in the world, and her work as the emir’s consort received inter-
national recognition in 2013 with the prestigious George Bush Award
for Excellence in Public Service for her “devoted promotion of peace and
human development throughout the world.”54 Sheikha Mozah’s leader-
ship of the Qatar Foundation for Education, Science and Community
Development provided a powerful platform for acting both within and
beyond Qatar’s borders. In addition to the creation of Education City
and the forging of long-term ties with prestigious Western universities
(as detailed in Chapter Two), the Qatar Foundation also prioritised
overseas developmental assistance. These soft power initiatives all played
into and reinforced the Qatari state-branding image around the world.55
â•… The most prominent overseas initiative in this regard is the Reach
Out To Asia (ROTA) initiative launched by Qatar Foundation in 2005
under the patronage of the then-heir apparent Sheikh Tamim. ROTA
launched educational projects and local development programmes
designed to empower local communities among Asia’s poorest and most
deprived countries. Now chaired by Emir Tamim’s increasingly influen-
tial sister, Sheikha Al-Mayassa bint Hamad Al-Thani, ROTA has worked
in ten crisis-afflicted countries—Afghanistan, Bangladesh, Cambodia,
Indonesia, Iraq, Lebanon, Nepal, Pakistan, Palestine and Yemen—and
has reconstructed ninety-seven schools in Cambodia, Iraq, Palestine,
Nepal and Pakistan. Much of ROTA’s work has therefore been bottom-
up and undertaken in partnership with local communities. It has thus
complemented the more “top-down” foreign policy and mediatory
approach, and given Qatari policy-making a human dimension.56
â•… One of Sheikha Mozah’s flagship projects was the Al-Fakhoora initia-
tive launched in 2009 following the devastating Israeli assault on Gaza,
and named (perhaps provocatively) after the school where forty-three
children were killed during the bombing. The project sought to support
Palestinian students through international scholarships and vocational
training; protect school buildings and educational installations by
rebuilding university buildings in cooperation with the Qatari Red
Crescent; and raise awareness of Palestinian issues through a “Virtual
Majlis” through which students in Gaza could hold dialogues with
counterparts in the United States, intended to “highlight the situation
of daily life under the blockade.” The language demonstrated how
humanitarian aid and assistance intersected with political goals and
regional objectives in times of crisis and strife.
83
â•… Sheikh Tamim, the heir apparent from August 2003 until his accession
as emir on 25 June 2013, made up the fourth member of Qatar’s foreign
Â€
policy elite. The fourth son of the emir (and the second of Sheikha
Mozah), Sheikh Tamim became heir apparent after his elder brother,
Sheikh Jasim bin Hamad Al-Thani, was relieved of the position, report-
edly owing to his opposition to some of his father’s developmental poli-
cies. Sheikh Tamim chaired the very successful Asian Games that took
place in Doha in December 2006, and gradually consolidated power
around him.57 Backed by his mother, who reportedly disliked HBJ,
Sheikh Tamim engaged HBJ in a battle for influence among domestic
Qatari stakeholders.58 This emerging division took the form of new
Supreme Councils owing allegiance to Sheikh Tamim and Sheikha
Mozah, which became influential in policy-making circles and undercut
government ministries answering to HBJ. In 2011, the Gulf States
Â€
Newsletter cited one (unnamed) analyst as stating: “There has been a

gradual transfer of power from the office of the prime minister/foreign
minister to the office of the heir apparent. Of course, HBJ still has great
power on the international scene, but is not so powerful domestically.”59
â•… This tension between the prime minister and the heir apparent
explains some of the sudden domestic policy reversals that puzzled
observers of Qatar. Most notable (and unexpected) was the sudden deci-
sion in January 2012 by Qatar University to abandon English as the
language of instruction and return to teaching in Arabic. The decree
overturned the 2004 switch to English and appeared to go against Qatar
University’s attempt to establish itself as an internationally renowned,
research-led university.60 The decision was made by the Supreme
Educational Council, chaired by Sheikha Mozah with Sheikh Tamim as
vice-chair. The council-ministry tension was also apparent elsewhere,
such as at the Supreme Council for Health, chaired by Sheikh Tamim
with Sheikha Mozah as vice-chair, which gradually assumed power from
the Ministry of Health. Even more broadly, Sheikh Tamim, rather than
the prime minister, was responsible for drawing up, launching and
implementing the Qatar National Vision 2030 as well as the prepara-
tions for the 2022 FIFA World Cup, thereby putting him in charge of
both medium- and long-term development plans.61
â•… Significantly, Sheikh Tamim also started to encroach upon HBJ’s
foreign policy domain. After his signal success with the 2006 Asian
Games, he was named the head of Qatar’s ultimately unsuccessful bid to
host the 2020 Olympic and Paralympic Games. More concretely, during
84
the summer of 2011, Sheikh Tamim was active in hosting delegations of
visiting free Libyan officials as the anti-Gaddafi rebellion unfolded. He
also travelled to Egypt in July 2011 to meet with the leadership of the
Supreme Council of the Armed Forces (SCAF).62 Subsequently, in
January 2012, as the violent uprising in Syria escalated, Sheikh Tamim
arranged a meeting between the Palestinian resistance organisation
Hamas and Jordan. Unusually, in light of HBJ’s previous dominance of
such issues, it was Sheikh Tamim who accompanied Hamas leader
Khaled Meshaal and a delegation of other leaders to meet with King
Abdullah in Amman on 29 January 2012.63 The visit was seen as an
Â€
opportunity to repair previously tense relations between the Hashemite

Kingdom and Hamas, particularly as conditions in Syria deteriorated.
Qatar’s role in engineering the reconciliation was hailed by the Jordanian
branch of the Muslim Brotherhood, as it stated: “The meeting today is
historic. Qatari mediation is supporting the palace’s efforts to reformu-
late Jordan-Hamas relations in line with national interests.”64
â•… Sheikh Tamim’s appearance on the regional and international scene
signalled a fraying of the delicate balance of power at the apex of Qatari
decision-making. As heir apparent, he consolidated his domestic posi-
tion in preparation for his eventual succession in part through patronage
of long-term development plans such as the National Vision and the
Qatar National Food Security Programme and a series of popular deci-
sions in 2011, notably Decree 50/11 in September. This ordered gener-
ous salary, social allowances, and pension increases for Qatari public
sector workers (60 per cent) and military personnel (120 per cent for
officers and 50 per cent for other ranks). Widely seen as a move to pre-
empt any potential Arab Spring pressures among Qatari nationals,
Sheikh Tamim also gained in popularity with a directive ordering com-
panies to work with the Qatar National Food Security Programme to
lower the price of food and basic commodities.65
â•… Qatari policy-making circles, therefore, were drawn extremely tightly
around a handful of the most senior members of the Al-Thanis. Decisions
frequently were taken “from above” and transmitted downward for
implementation, rather than the other way around. For public sector
officials in government ministries, instead of acting as the incubator of
policy ideas, their role was to find ways to make declaratory policies work
in practice. Continuing reliance on networks of powerful personalities
hampered the institutionalisation of the machinery of government in
85
Qatar, although this belatedly has started to change.66 However, an added
complication during the pre-2013 era is that not all of the four figures at
the apex of the pyramid worked in synchronisation, or even in harmony,
with each other. The resulting personal rivalries undercut cross-govern-
ment approaches to issues, witnessed most evidently in the creation of
the supreme councils parallel to the governmental ministries.67
State Capitalism
The small circle of decision-making responsibility at the top of the
Qatari state had its advantages. It facilitated the mobilisation of different
parts of the state apparatus in search of a common objective, albeit
partially within the limitation of the factional fault-lines described
above. The intersection of the ability to draw in the resources of the state
with the personalisation of policy-making was particularly evident in the
case of HBJ. He spearheaded what Kamrava labels “a two-pronged
Â€
approach—namely intense personal diplomacy and engagement com-

bined with implied or explicit promises of vast financial investments
once the dispute is settled.”68 Qatari diplomatic mediation therefore was
underpinned by the prospect of material inducements and investment
in conflict-affected environments.
â•… In recent years, there has been a revival of academic and practitioner
interest in the concept of “state capitalism.” The global financial crisis
that started in 2007 exposed some of the failings of the aggressively
pro-market “Washington Consensus” economic agenda. Simultaneously,
at the end of a decade of high oil prices and substantial capital accumu-
lation, the alternative state-led approach of the Gulf states began to look
rather more robust in light of the failings of the Bretton Woods system
of economic governance. Writing about Dubai in 2009, shortly before
the emirate’s own economic slowdown, Danish economist Martin Hvidt
might well have been writing about Qatar in his description of how:
The extremely centralised and capable decision-making structure and signifi-
cant government involvement in the economy have made it possible to coordi-
nate sizeable state investments, incoming foreign investments, and most likely
a good part of private-sector investments … the centralised state paradigm (one
of the defining characteristics of the developmental state paradigm in Dubai)
has been reinforced by the traditional tribal (patrimonial) leadership style.69
â•… During the late-2000s, macro-economic trends converged with the
pressures generated by the global financial crisis to accentuate the shift in
86
global economic power from the market to the state, and broadly from
West to East. From China to the East Asian “tiger” economies, officials in
the GCC states absorbed and distilled policy-making lessons that some-
times differed markedly from those of the International Monetary Fund
or the World Bank. In the Gulf, the “East Asian” model of the “develop-
mental state” in general, and its implementation by Lee Kuan Yew in
Singapore, in particular, was very influential. This was based on a prag-
matic combination of state guidance and private initiative, underpinned
by significant government interventions in the economy.70
â•… In Qatar, as in neighbouring GCC states, the business landscape
incorporates a number of high-profile and increasingly successful state-
owned enterprises (SOEs). These operate across economic sectors and
gradually have acquired reputations for strong corporate management
in line with international standards of governance, efficiency and lead-
ership, especially when compared to bloated and poorly-regulated pub-
lic sector counterparts. Significantly, the SOEs blend public and private
sector representation on their boards, with members of the ruling fam-
ily acting as chairmen and often handpicked businessmen as chief
executive officers. This ensures rapid and high-level access to the top of
the decision-making structure and facilitates the mobilisation of key
state assets in support of particular policies.71 Although this phenome-
non exists across all six GCC states, it is magnified in Qatar as the
Al-Thanis historically have been more involved in business and eco-
nomic activities than their counterpart ruling families, for example in
Kuwait or in Saudi Arabia.72
â•… Prominent examples of such SOEs dominate the Qatari business
landscape. They include Industries Qatar, established in 2003 as an
amalgamation of four national oil company-controlled firms and
designed to emulate the successful model of the Saudi Basic Industries
Corporation (SABIC),73 Qatari Diar Real Estate Investment Company
(a subsidiary of the Qatar Investment Authority), Qtel telecommunica-
tions provider, and Qatar Airways.74 The synergies available to SOEs
operating within the wider state apparatus were exemplified in a 2007
announcement by Qatar Airways that it would power its fleet on GTL
fuel produced locally within Qatar. This involved a consortium of
research and development that combined local and international part-
ners, encompassing Qatar Airways, Qatar Petroleum, the Qatar Science
and Technology Park, Airbus, Rolls-Royce and Shell. On 12 OctoberÂ€
87
2009, a Qatar Airways Airbus A340–600 made the world’s first com-
mercial passenger flight from London’s Gatwick Airport to Doha using
a fifty-fifty blend of synthetic GTL kerosene and conventional oil-based
kerosene fuel.75
â•… Underpinning these high-profile examples have been the actions of
individuals in mobilising their extensive political-economic networks.
Once again the example (and role) of HBJ in his multi-headed capacity
as prime minister, foreign minister, and head of numerous SOEs, as well
as the country’s sovereign wealth fund, illustrates this in action. Whether
in Yemen, Lebanon or Darfur, Qatari mediation was accompanied by
what Gulbrandsen has labelled “business diplomacy.” This frequently
took the form of targeted investments by the HBJ-controlled Qatar
Investment Authority and its derivative subsidiaries such as Qatari Diar
and active involvement by banks, such as the Qatar Islamic Bank
(chaired by HBJ’s son, Jassim).76 Prominent examples of such state capi-
talist investment identified by Gulbrandsen include a $400 million hotel
and residential project being developed by Qatari Diar in Sudan’s capital
Khartoum,77 Qatar Islamic Bank’s joint venture in Lebanon with Beirut-
based Arab Finance House,78 and, in Yemen, an ultimately unsuccessful
collaboration between Qatari Diar and the local Shibam Holding to
develop the Al-Rayyan Hills project. This planned $600 million mixed-
use development would have been the largest residential construction in
Sana’a had it gone ahead, but work was suspended in March 2011 due
to the intensifying political crisis in Yemen.79
â•… The aforementioned investments took place as an adjunct to Qatari
diplomatic mediation efforts. After the outbreak of the regional upheaval
in North Africa, similar Qatari largesse poured into the transition states
as they emerged from the Arab Spring. Commercial relations between
Qatar and Tunisia boomed following the January 2011 revolution and
subsequent election of an Ennahda (Islamist)-led government. Especially
noteworthy was an announcement in May 2012 that Qatar plans to
construct a refinery on Tunisia’s Gulf of Gabes coast at La Skhira with
an output of 120,000 barrels per day. This $2 billion project would
allow Tunisia to refine oil from neighbouring Libya and develop its
potential as an export hub for refined products, massively expanding
capacity beyond the aging 35,000 barrels/day Bizerte refinery. The
announcement formed part of a wider Qatari effort to kick-start
Tunisia’s ailing economy following the dislocation caused by the anti-
88
Ben Ali revolt. Others made in 2012 included balance of payments
support to Tunisia’s central bank to overcome a deteriorating external
balance problem, and Qatar Petroleum International support for voca-
tional training in Tunisia’s hydrocarbons sector. Intriguingly, the Gulf
States Newsletter reported that the Qatar Investment Authority and
Qatar Petroleum International might find themselves competing for
involvement in the refinery project, but quoted an industry source as
stating that “this can be managed without undue problem.”80
â•… Qatari investment in Libya surged after the demise of Gaddafi and his
replacement by the Qatari-backed National Transitional Council, in a
similar way to Doha’s agreements with the new leadership in Tunisia as
described above.81 Financial ties emerged in April 2012, with the purchase
of a 49 per cent stake in Libya’s Bank of Commerce and Development
by the Qatar National Bank (QNB) Group. QNB is 50 per cent owned
by the Qatar Investment Authority, which as mentioned above,
answered to HBJ in his capacity as vice-chairman and CEO at the time
of the revolution in Libya.82
â•… Most remarkably, on a visit to Cairo in early-September 2012, HBJ
publicly announced that Qatar would invest a staggering $18 billion in
Egypt over five years. Commenting that there would be “no limits” to
Qatar’s support for the Muslim Brotherhood-ruled country struggling
to find conventional funds to balance Egypt’s budget, HBJ stated that
$8 billion would be invested in an integrated power plant, natural gas,
and iron steel project in Port Said, while the remaining $10 billion
would finance the construction of a tourism marina complex on the
Mediterranean coastline. However, the announcement was noticeably
lacking in details of how the funds would be disbursed, and similar
headline-grabbing suggestions of aid in May 2011 ultimately never
materialised.83 Shortly afterward, the commercial links between Egypt
and Qatar thickened with an announced partnership between private
equity firm Nile Capital and another of HBJ’s sons, Jabir, to create a
$250 million fund to invest in education across the Middle East and
North Africa.84
â•… All this changed abruptly in the summer of 2013. Within the space of
a week, the leadership transition in Qatar that removed HBJ from the
political scene in late-June was followed by the astonishing volte-face in
Egyptian politics that saw the ousting of President Mohamed Morsi and
the return of military rule. These developments placed the new emir,
89
thirty-three-year old Sheikh Tamim bin Hamad Al-Thani, in an imme-
diately challenging position. Having effectively “backed the wrong
horse” in supporting the Muslim Brotherhood government so strongly,
Qatari officials looked on as Saudi Arabia, Kuwait and the UAE extended
$12 billion in aid and assistance to the interim military, a sum far exceed-
ing the $7.5 billion said to have been allocated by Qatar to the Morsi
regime. Yet Qatar did honour an agreement signed with the Morsi gov-
ernment, just a week before it fell, to supply five LNG cargoes to plug
shortfalls in domestic power generation in Egypt, although a separate
long-term gas agreement agreed in principle between Egypt and Qatar
in the spring of 2013 did not survive the change of regime in Cairo.85
Mediation as Foreign Policy

Qatar became best known for its mediation initiatives during the late-
2000s, as indicated at the beginning of this chapter. During this period,
the characteristics of Qatari policy-making referred to above—namely
the high-level personal engagement of the emir and prime minister, a
small circle of elite decision-makers, and the commitment of significant
financial resources to affect mediatory outcomes—combined to win the
country a growing reputation as a “can-do” actor in regional politics.
Nevertheless, this and the next section also demonstrate how these
advantages were offset by weaknesses such as the lack of a large profes-
sional diplomatic corps to translate initial engagement into the sustain-
able implementation of agreements.
â•… The three most high-profile instances of Qatari mediation took place
in Yemen, Lebanon and Darfur. Intermittent rounds of fighting between
the Houthi movement and government forces had taken place since
September 2004 and caused widespread displacement and destruction
in the Sa’ada province of northern Yemen. The emir visited Yemen in
May 2007 and dispatched a delegation from the Qatari Foreign Ministry
to talk to leaders of the Houthi rebellion. This led to a joint ceasefire
agreement between the rebels and the Yemeni government in June 2007
and a peace agreement signed in Doha on 1 February 2008. However,
Â€
fighting quickly resumed, and Yemen’s then-president Ali Abdullah

Saleh declared the Qatari mediation to be a failure in May 2009. A
renewed Qatari-mediated ceasefire was later agreed in August 2010,
along with a twenty-two point political agreement, but this too proved
90
short-lived, as both the Yemeni government and the Houthi rebels
blamed each other for its non-implementation. The unsuccessful media-
tion left a legacy of bad blood between Saleh and Qatari leaders when
the latter supported a political transition to ease Saleh out of power after
mass protests erupted across Yemen in 2011.86 As a result, Saleh con-
spiratorially stated that: “Qatar has so much money they don’t know
what to do with it, and are setting a financial foundation to become one
of the big players in the Middle East by funding all the unrest.”87
â•… Qatari mediation in Lebanon was more successful, at least initially.
Eighteen months of political deadlock in Beirut threatened to escalate
into armed conflict between Hezbollah and Prime Minister Fouad
Siniora in May 2008. The fact that Saudi Arabia and Syria were too
closely aligned with domestic Lebanese factions and had too much his-
torical baggage to be seen as impartial brokers opened the door for
Qatari mediation. Qatar brought the various Lebanese parties to Doha
for negotiations that succeeded in reaching the Doha Agreement on
21 May 2008. This covered the appointment of a compromise candi-
Â€
date, General Michel Suleiman, president of Lebanon, and the forma-

tion of a national unity government that balanced between competing
Lebanese groups, including Hezbollah. Significantly, it has credibly been
reported that Qatari leaders used the promise of large-scale Qatari
investments in Syria as a carrot to win the support of Syrian president
Bashar Al-Assad for the agreement.88 In addition, Qatar contributed
generously to housing compensation in southern Lebanon by commit-
ting up to $150 million in reconstruction funds in a strongly-Shia
region. This aimed to win hearts and minds vis-à-vis Iranian contribu-
tions directed via Hezbollah to other Shia areas in the south. This was
reinforced by the nature of the funds’ disbursement, via direct payment
to individual families rather than working through Lebanese govern-
ment agencies.89 However, the Doha Agreement failed to modify any of
the deeper structural impediments to political stability in Lebanon,
instead representing a “sticking plaster” solution to a particular crisis of
the day.
â•… In Darfur, Qatar was named the Arab League representative to medi-
ate between the government of Sudan and rebel factions after violence
escalated in 2008. As with Lebanon, the participants were hosted in
Doha, albeit this time alongside mediators from the African Union, the
Arab League and the UN, as well as from nearby states Egypt, Libya and
91
Chad. Following several failures, a ceasefire framework agreement was
signed between the Sudanese government and the largest opposition, the
Justice and Equality Movement, in February 2010, whereupon Sudan’s
president Omar Al-Bashir declared the conflict at an end. The Qatari
model of state capitalism also swung into action in Darfur with an
announcement that the Qatar Investment Authority had invested $1
billion to cultivate food crops for export to Qatar as part of the Qatar
National Food Security Programme.90 However, the agreement quickly
broke down as fighting resumed, with accusations of the government
disregarding agreements and fractionalisation on the part of rebel groups
and Darfuri civil society jointly scuppering successive agreements.
Large-scale clashes continued into 2012, peaking between December
2010 and early-2011 and leading the UN to announce in March 2011
that 70,000 people had been displaced by the resumption of fighting.91
â•… Elsewhere, and somewhat controversially, Qatar’s leadership contin-
ued to engage prominently with Al-Bashir, inviting him to the Arab
League Summit in Doha in 2009 and even hosting the president in
August 2012 while he underwent a minor operation on his vocal chords,
despite Al-Bashir becoming the first sitting head of state to be indicted
by the International Criminal Court (ICC) for war crimes in March
2009.92 These moves demonstrated how Qatari officials sought to engage
with the international community very much on their own terms, defy-
ing the ICC when they deemed it in their interest to do so, yet willing
to wield “global norms” against leaders such as Colonel Gaddafi when
circumstances changed dramatically with the onset of the Arab Spring.
Problems of Capacity
The small and highly centralised elite decision-making structure
described in previous sections was able to draw together the various
strands of the state capitalism model. This sharpened the projection of
leverage in regions where Qatar has intervened, and undoubtedly played
a significant role in putting Qatar on the global map. It is nonetheless
important to put Qatar’s capabilities into perspective given the small size
of the country and its limited cadres of professional expertise. These
factors have been identified as issues of concern by Qatari analysts who
openly discuss a growing mismatch between leadership intent and dip-
lomatic capacity.93 Qatar lacks the administrative and on-the-ground
92
resources to translate initial agreements into the sustainable resolution
of disputes. Its diplomatic service is too small to follow-up or monitor
progress toward implementation once negotiations end. In the absence
of a “day after” policy, Qatari mediation in Lebanon and Darfur was
more an exercise in bridging surface divisions than actually addressing
their deeper structural roots or tangibly contributing to peace-building
and post-conflict recovery.94
â•… The constraints on Qatar’s approach have once again been well-
summarised by Kamrava, who points to “limited capabilities to affect
long-term changes” in its mediatory focus, as well as a lack of adminis-
trative and on-the-ground resources and “apparent underestimations of
the complexities of deep-rooted conflicts at hand.” Consequently, while
Qatari policy-makers have proved adept at conflict mediation, they do
not yet appear to have acquired the skill-sets to meaningfully be able to
move toward conflict resolution. Nor did Qatar show itself capable of
going beyond offering mediatory services by tackling or resolving
deeper underlying issues or structural blockages.95 Crucially, while there
appeared to be a growing acknowledgement of this mismatch between
capability and intent among Qatari analysts and international observers
alike, this did not seem to have blunted the leadership’s enthusiasm for
ever-more complex foreign interventions. Thus, it was becoming
increasingly likely that problems would develop as the ambitions of the
policy elite in Doha became ever more grandiose and far-reaching prior
to the transfer of power and authority to a new generation of leaders in
June 2013.
â•… Indeed, the very success of Qatar’s initial ventures in the Arab Spring
encouraged a trend of over-reach that arguably did rebound to Qatar’s
disadvantage, not so much through direct blowback as by exposing the
fragile veneer of Qatari interventions, thereby providing ammunition to
sceptics’ perceptions that Qatar may be more about style than substance.
This may already be occurring as a result of the highly visible (albeit
largely short-term) success of the regime change in Libya. Following the
downfall and shortly before the violent death of Colonel Gaddafi in
October 2011, the Gulf States Newsletter cited an anonymous source,
said to be close to the ruling family, who claimed that “the Emir is very
gung-ho” and had personally engineered the Qatari intervention, as
opposed to the more cautious policy said to be favoured by HBJ.96
Certainly, there was a feeling that the onset of the Arab Spring presented
93
an opportunity for Qatar to seal its global branding so soon after the
successful World Cup bid had catapulted the country to international
attention. As Part II of this book makes clear, the apparent success of the
Libyan intervention seemingly translated into Qatari enthusiasm for
regime change in Syria, with comments first by the emir, and subse-
quently by the prime minister, tailored for maximal international impact.
â•… Although not concerned with diplomatic mediation or conflict reso-
lution, the process and outcome of the 18th Conference of the Parties
(COP 18) climate change conference in Doha in November 2012 held
important signals for Qatar’s hopes of a viable international breakout.
This is because the conference provided an opportunity to measure the
degree of alignment between style and substance in Qatari policy-for-
mulation. Qatari policy-makers originally seem to have considered their
bid to host COP 18 as part of the international state-branding initiatives
already referred to. Interviews conducted in Qatar in the aftermath of
the bid, and again at the halfway point between Qatar’s successful bid
and the conference itself (December 2011 and May 2012), captured a
sense of disquiet and uncertainty as policy-makers realised they would
be required to formulate substantive proposals and credible initiatives to
put before the conference.97 Failure to do so, it was acknowledged,
would simply reinforce negative external perceptions concerning Qatar,
by dint of the world’s media descending on Doha and focusing on the
incongruity of hosting a pivotal climate change conference in a major
hydrocarbons-producing state.
Small States in World Politics

Three key points emerge from this overview of the major recent trends
in Qatari foreign policy. The first is that Emir Sheikh Hamad bin
Khalifa Al-Thani and his prime/foreign minister HBJ sought to build
Qatar into a regional power capable of pursuing autonomous and inno-
vative foreign policy objectives. This is connected with the second factor,
namely the state-branding initiatives analysed in full in Chapter Two.
These intersected in May 2008 with the successful Qatari mediation of
the Lebanese political impasse, leading the New York Times to describe
Qatar as “a non-stop mediator, playing all sides.”98 Both factors are, in
turn, intertwined with the third macro-factor, which is a desire to diver-
sify the sources of external security. Largely through its supply of LNG
94
to key industrialised and emerging economies across the world, Qatar
has increased the number of trade partners that hold a direct stake in
domestic stability. This, it is hoped, would translate into rapid political
and military support should Qatar ever be threatened either internally
or regionally. The international response to the invasion of Kuwait in
1990 bears out this point, as does the aforementioned comment attrib-
uted to HBJ that Qatar might also one day face its “own Katrina.”99
â•… Qatar’s rise as an increasingly powerful actor was also facilitated by
broader changes to the structure of the international system. Opportunities
for small states abounded as the link between size and power eroded. In
particular, accelerating globalising processes made it easier for small
states to “punch above their weight” and project the new forms of soft
power discussed above and in the previous chapter. Together with the
UAE and, to a lesser extent, Saudi Arabia, Qatar firmly became embed-
ded in the global system of power, politics and policy-making.100 The
shifting nature of the concept of power in an intensely interconnected
world enabled small states such as Qatar to project far greater power and
influence, aided and augmented by the rise of state capitalism as “the
emerging world’s new model.”101
â•… During the decade of the 2000s that preceded the Arab Spring, Qatar
integrated into the global economy largely on its own terms. This is
similar to other emerging economies, such as China and India, which
have led the rebalancing of global power and increased the voice and
representation of developing countries in recent years. Yet China and
India are, respectively, the second and seventh largest countries in the
world by landmass, and the two most populous, each with more than 1
billion inhabitants. Their size could not be more different from Qatar,
where Qatari citizens constituted less than 300,000 of the estimated
population of 1.9 million in 2012.102
â•… What changed during the 1990s and 2000s was the understanding of
how power could operate in an intensely interconnected world that
integrated states and societies in worldwide systems and networks of
interaction. The reconfiguration of notions of political community gen-
erated a distinctive form of “global politics” that accounted for the
intensity and the extensity of global interconnections and states’
enmeshment within trans-national frameworks and issues.103 Through
its nimble approach to policy-making and international diplomacy, and
the near-total autonomy granted to the small circle of elite decision-
95
makers unencumbered by domestic political constraints, Qatar took full
advantage of the spaces that opened for an innovative new actor in
regional and even global affairs. Part II (Chapters Four, Five, and Six)
examines the resulting realignments in Qatari policy, while the Epilogue
assesses the implications for the road ahead for the youthful new emir,
Sheikh Tamim bin Hamad Al-Thani.
96
PART II
4
Part I of this book ended by documenting Qatar’s fast-growing reputa-

tion as a diplomatic mediator in the years immediately prior to 2011.
Beginning with the Doha Agreement that settled Lebanon’s long-run-
ning political standoff in 2008, Qatari leaders focused on mediation and
peace-building in Yemen and Darfur as well as smaller-scale initiatives
elsewhere in the Arab and Islamic world. Although long-standing suc-
cess in resolving conflict was proving elusive, and the first indications of
a lack of institutional capacity for follow-through were already becom-
ing apparent, Qatar’s stock in the regional and international community
was rising rapidly in 2010. This reached a dramatic peak in early-
December when fourteen of the twenty-two members of the FIFA
Executive Committee gave their support to Qatar’s bid to host the 2022
men’s soccer World Cup. As has already been discussed, the unexpected
decision to award Qatar the second-biggest international sporting event
after the Olympic Games catapulted the country to the top of global
attention, and represented a stunning success for “Brand Qatar.”
â•… Two weeks later a street vendor in the provincial Tunisian city of Sidi
Bouzid named Mohamed Bouazizi set himself on fire after his fruit-cart
was confiscated by petty local officials. His desperate act of protest trig-
gered a chain of events that ultimately toppled long-standing authoritar-
ian leaders in Tunisia, Egypt, Libya and Yemen, and rocked the regimes
in Syria and Bahrain to their core. It is arguable that Qatar would not
99
have been awarded the FIFA World Cup had the region already been in
upheaval. However, Qatari officials quickly benefited from the Arab
Spring, and most significantly, the emir and the prime minister of Qatar
seized the chance to align Qatari foreign policy with Western-centric
norms of democracy and freedom.
â•… This chapter explains when and why this outwardly radical shift in
policy occurred. It argues that, after an initial period of caution in
January 2011, Qatari officials quickly recognised the changing contours
of the Arab Spring and pragmatically readjusted their policy-responses.
The lack of domestic constraints on decision-making enabled officials,
led by the emir and the prime minister, to reposition Qatar (somewhat
improbably) as a champion of the popular uprisings in North Africa and
later as a key external player in the Syrian civil war. Chapter Five will
explore Qatar’s subsequent interventions in Libya and Syria, while
Chapter Six will investigate the actual and potential threat of blowback
arising from Qatar’s Arab Spring policies. This especially concerns the
growing split between Qatar and its Gulf neighbours over Doha’s close
relationship with the Muslim Brotherhood, as well as the sacrificing of
the pillars of Qatar’s success—namely a reputation for impartiality as an
honest broker. Moreover, the assertiveness of Qatari policies meant that
differences with neighbouring Gulf states such as Saudi Arabia, which
preferred to work quietly behind the scenes to influence regional policy,
widened into a chasm that left Qatar dangerously isolated.
Embracing Change: Qatar and Islamism

Earlier chapters of this book argued that the most convincing explana-
tion of Qatari regional peace-making efforts lay in a multi-pronged
strategy of political and economic liberalisation, state-branding, and
pursuit of an independent foreign policy. Such a strategy was an attempt
to overcome Qatar’s small-state “security dilemma” through projecting
itself as an impartial yet influential partner for contrasting regional and
international associates, and offering the country more “space” in the
international arena than such a small state normally would have—
attracting foreign investment, business and tourism. Unconstrained by
an elderly or incapacitated leadership and possessed with abundant
sources of soft power leverage, the outbreak of mass protests in Tunisia,
Egypt and Libya in early-2011 provided an opportunity for Qatar’s
100
leaders to reaffirm their distinctive model of political and economic
development in a seemingly-altruistic, initially-benign, and highly-visi-
ble manner.
â•… While Qatar’s high-visibility actions during the Arab Spring, descriÂ�
bed in this section, may at first appear as a break from the abovemen-
tioned strategy, one can view the recent change of course as prompted
by a radical change in circumstances, rather than representative of a
more fundamental change in policy. Qatari actions constituted “a con-
tinuation of its active and growing foreign policy over the past decade,”
as noted by Palestinian academic Khaled Hroub.1 What was different
was that regional developments in 2011, coupled with the fortuitous
absence of any likelihood of concerted domestic unrest in Qatar itself,
accorded Qatari policy-making the space to become more assertive and
comprehensive in scope. By acting in such a forceful manner toward
countries and regime types deemed “dispensable” (unlike the fellow
ruling Al-Khalifa family in neighbouring Bahrain), the emir and prime
minister also sought to lessen Qatar’s vulnerability to any criticism of its
lack of political liberalisation at home.2
â•… The delicate balancing of ostensibly competing forces that had formed
a hallmark of Qatar’s post-1995 foreign policy was very much in evi-
dence after 2011. Sultan Barakat has noted how Doha positioned itself
as the West’s ally in the Arab world in pushing for humanitarian inter-
vention in Libya and political settlement in Yemen, while simultane-
ously supporting Islamist movements across the region. Similarly, the
decision to throw their weight behind regional Islamists—frequently
affiliated with the Muslim BrotherÂ�hood and its regional offshoots—also
represented the culmination of longer-term developments. These were
the Qatari government’s practice of offering refuge to Islamists and
political dissidents from across the Arab and Islamic world (with Yusuf
al-Qaradawi both the longest-standing and most famous example), and
the pragmatism in Qatari regional policy-calculations. These factors
converged in Qatar’s close relationship with the Muslim Brotherhood.
â•… Guido Steinberg, an expert in political Islamism, notes that in 2011,
“Doha recognised that the Islamists would become the next big power
in North African and Middle Eastern politics, and so increased its efforts
to close ranks with them” as “a community of exiled Muslim Brothers
gradually formed around al-Qaradawi.”3 Although Qatar subscribes
officially to Wahhabism and adheres to the Hanbali School of Islamic
101
Law, whose emphasis on political obedience of subjects to their ruler
differs radically from the populist and activist nature of the Muslim
Brotherhood movement, close ties nevertheless built up between them.
These had historical depth stemming from the influx of members of the
Muslim Brotherhood fleeing persecution from nationalist and socialist
movements in Nasser’s Egypt in the 1950s and 1960s, and from Syria
after Hafiz Al-Assad’s massacre of the group in Hama in 1982. As in
Kuwait, Saudi Arabia and the UAE, many of the newcomers worked as
teachers and civil servants and were instrumental in shaping the political
views of a generation of young people across the Gulf.4
â•… In the 1990s, the deepening of ties with the Muslim Brotherhood
distinguished Qatar from the stance of neighbouring GCC states. In the
UAE, Emiratis who had studied in Egypt joined with Egyptian émigrés
to establish the Association for Reform and Guidance (Jamiat al-Islah
wa Tawjih) in 1974, on the principles of Brotherhood founder Hassan
al-Banna. Despite early support from the ruling families of Dubai and
Ras Al-Khaimah and the appointment of two al-Islah members to cabi-
net positions in 1973 and 1979, relations cooled in the 1980s and 1990s
amid mounting concerns at their influence within the educational and
religious establishments. A crackdown began in 1994 as the organisa-
tion’s boards were dissolved and many members removed from govern-
ment and teaching positions, barred from preaching in mosques, and
denied a public platform by writing in newspapers.5
â•… A broadly similar trajectory occurred in Saudi Arabia. The loose
grouping of at least four currents of Saudi Brothers notably had not
pledged allegiance to the supreme guide in Cairo because they were
already bound by their oath to the king as Saudi citizens. Once again,
however, regime concerns about the movement’s social and educational
influence prompted suppressive action that, in the Saudi case, acceler-
ated after the Brotherhood supported the Iraqi invasion of Kuwait in
1990.6 The Gulf War also led to major changes in the relationship
between the Muslim Brotherhood and Kuwait. The local offshoot, the
Islamic Constitutional Movement broke with the international Muslim
Brotherhood movement and instead participated actively in the resis-
tance to the Iraqi invaders by helping to distribute food, humanitarian
relief and money.7
â•… By contrast with the domestication of Muslim Brotherhood move-
ments in Kuwait and (to a lesser extent Saudi Arabia), Qatar extended
102
and diversified its ties with the regional branches of the movement while
keeping a firm lid on any activities at home. While al-Qaradawi and
others were given a vocal platform on Al Jazeera after its formation in
1996, they and other Brotherhood exiles were accommodated in Doha
on the tacit understanding that they refrained from intervening in or
commenting on local issues. This established a clear distinction between
the domestic and regional spheres of activity and those activities that
were permissible and those that were not. As Bernard Haykel notes,
“Qatar has done a better job of managing the energies of the Brotherhood
and channelling these towards the outside world.”8
â•… The outcome of Qatar’s outreach to Islamist figures was close connec-
tions with many of the opposition leaders who prepared to play leading
roles in the revolutionary upheaval in Tunisia, Egypt, Libya, Syria and
Yemen. The popular uprisings initially were spurred by universal
demands for political and economic freedoms, human dignity, and
social justice more than specifically Islamist goals or objectives. However,
political Islamists’ greater organising capacity meant they were dispro-
portionately able to take advantage of the electoral and participatory
opportunities that unfolded. This gave Qatar two forms of leverage in
states undergoing Arab Spring unrest; individual connections through
the Doha-based exiles who returned to their countries of origin, and
institutional influence as the Muslim Brotherhood emerged as a power-
ful player in the political transitions. As Chapter Five makes clear, these
human assets were used in both Libya and Syria, respectively.
Lack of Domestic Constraints

In addition to feeling far more comfortable than most neighbouring
states with the direction of political transition in the Arab world, the
Qatari leadership also benefited from the relative freedom of manoeuvre
it enjoyed domestically. In common with the other ruling family systems
in the GCC, the Al-Thanis enjoyed a monopoly on senior decision-
making posts, particularly in the “sovereign ministries” of foreign affairs,
defence, and interior, as well as the position of prime minister itself.
However, the concentration of power in a tight circle of senior members
of the ruling family does not by itself distinguish Qatar from any of its
Gulf neighbours, with the partial exception of Kuwait where the ruling
family is counterbalanced by a vocal parliamentary opposition. What set
103
Qatar apart in 2011 was the near-total absence of any sort of political
demands, whether organised or informal, emanating from Qatari
nationals. Even in the outwardly similar “extreme rentier” case of the
UAE, pockets of relative poverty and deprivation existed among the
national population that could (and did) generate socio-economic dis-
content and political dissent.9 In Qatar: Small State, Big Politics, Mehran
Kamrava succinctly encapsulates the comparative advantages enjoyed by
Qatar relative to its GCC neighbours:
It enjoys social cohesion and an absence of the sectarian tensions found in
Bahrain and Saudi Arabia, a unitary polity and small size unlike the UAE and
Oman, and an apolitical population compared with Kuwait.10
â•… Almost uniquely in the Middle East and North Africa, the resources-
demands equation in Qatar was so favourable in 2011 that it ruled out
any prospect of local economic or meaningful political discontent. With
per capita levels of GDP among Qatari nationals exceeding an astonish-
ing $440,000, the country’s extreme wealth provided powerful insula-
tion from the spread of Arab Spring unrest. It also led inevitably to a
degree of political apathy and a stifling of democratic aspiration as few
Qataris felt inclined to rock the boat by challenging the status quo; the
results of an annual Arab Youth Survey found that the proportion of
respondents who ranked democracy as important more than halved
from 68 per cent in 2008 to just 33 per cent in 2010.11 Once again,
there was a clear contrast even with neighbouring states such as the
UAE, where the proportion of respondents who stated that democracy
was important rose substantially, from 58 per cent in 2008 to 75 per
cent in 2011.12
â•… The World Values Survey administered in Qatar (for the first and so
far only time) in December 2010 by the Social and Economic Survey
Research Institute (SESRI) of Qatar University reported broadly similar
findings. On the very eve of the Arab Spring, the trigger point of which
occurred halfway through the survey collection, the largest sampling of
a nationally representative frame ever taken in Qatar revealed that
almost two-thirds of respondents (64 per cent) ranked “economic
growth” as their top national priority for the coming decade. This far
exceeded those calling for “more participation” (16 per cent) or even
“strong defence” (15 per cent).13 Moreover, respondents expressed far
higher trust in state institutions (police, army, courts and government
institutions) than counterparts in other Arab countries, with 75 per cent
104
and 74 per cent reporting satisfaction with the police and army, respec-
tively, as compared to figures of about 30 per cent for Morocco. Such
elevated levels of public confidence notably did not extend to interna-
tional institutions, with only 8 per cent expressing belief in the work of
the United Nations.14 Analysing the findings, Justin Gengler of SESRI
and Mark Tessler of the University of Michigan observed that civic
engagement and associational life in Qatar “rather than undermining
traditional society and the prevailing regime is simply an extension of
them, with those most involved being those who benefit from it the
most—and who thus would stand to lose most from any revision of the
political status quo.”15
â•… The foregoing is not to say that public dissent does not exist in Qatar.
Chapter Six documents how circles of Qatari intellectuals and academics
have started to question the speed and direction of national develop-
ment strategies of the breakneck era of economic growth. Particular
concern has focused on the demographic imbalance that has trans-
formed Qatari nationals into an ever-decreasing minority group of the
total population. Additional unease has also emerged over rising finan-
cial pressures and infrastructural bottlenecks resulting from the arrival
of so many new workers to staff the massive investment projects ahead
of the 2022 World Cup. Over 130,000 people arrived to work in Qatar
between January and May 2013 alone, placing great strain on public
and social services and a housing system that saw only 10,000 additional
units come on to the market during the same period. The prevailing
sense of unease was reflected in comments made to the Gulf States
Newsletter by former justice minister Najeeb Al-Nuaimi that:
Qatar had been spending too much for five years and had left internal matters
in a bad way. If they had continued until 2016 we would have been finished,
Qatar would have collapsed … Qatar has a lot of bonds to pay by 2016 and if
we don’t pay we’ll end up like Dubai in 2008.16
â•… Nevertheless, the outbreak of the Arab Spring in late-December 2010

and early-January 2011 found Qatar in a fortuitous position. Flush with
the success of the 2022 World Cup bid and with its international recog-
nition soaring, the emirate and its leadership seized on the opportunity
to mark Qatar as distinct from the troubles afflicting the wider region.
With little prospect of being affected by the contagious spread of the
socio-economic unrest and with the uprisings in Tunisia and Egypt
focusing initially on universal values of social justice, human dignity,
105
and political and economic freedom, there was much to gain for making
a high-visibility stand against authoritarian misrule in North Africa,
Syria and Yemen. Moreover, the opportunity cost of doing so was low at
first, as Qatari expressions of declaratory and material support for oppo-
sition movements elsewhere were unlikely to rebound domestically,
while they also played into Qatari efforts to be taken seriously as a
responsible participant on the regional and international stage.
The Arab Uprisings in Context

Mohamed Bouazizi set himself on fire on 17 December 2010 after his
Â€
street stall was confiscated and he was humiliated by local authorities in

his hometown of Sidi Bouzid. Protests began in conservative and rural
regions of Tunisia and gradually spread to the cities where they inter-
sected with rising social tensions and anger at the escalating cost of food
and basic services. New media and social networking websites acted as
powerful transmitters enabling activists, bloggers and journalists to
bypass the security services’ repressive crackdown. The gradual conver-
gence of socio-economic and political dissent widened the scope of the
protestors’ demands to include the tackling of corruption and granting
of political freedoms. Ben Ali responded with incremental concessions
that culminated in a pledge not to seek re-election as president in 2014.
Even this gesture, which would have been unthinkable just a month
before, was insufficient to end the demonstrations, which redoubled
after Bouazizi succumbed to his injuries on 4 January, seven days after
Â€
being visited in hospital by the leader whose downfall he was shortly to

bring about.17 When the Tunisian military refused to intervene and
suppress the protests, Ben Ali was forced to flee to Saudi Arabia on
14 January 2011, and was replaced by a transitional unity government
Â€
ahead of planned elections.18

â•… Demonstrations in Egypt started on 25 January with the organisation
Â€
of a “day of anger” in major cities. As in Tunisia, a trigger (in this

instance the ousting of Ben Ali) ignited popular frustration with the
Mubarak regime’s perceived inability to address deep social and eco-
nomic problems, and thuggish authoritarian practices. The head of
marketing at Google Middle East, Wael Ghonim, set up a Facebook
page entitled “We are all Khaled Said” to commemorate “a young victim
of the kind of public display of brute power that had been so character-
106
istic of the Egyptian security apparatus.” The page morphed into a major
site of mobilisation and communication for the swelling non-violent
resistance movement, and gathered more than 80,000 subscribers in the
first few days after it launched.19 On 28 January, the protests escalated
Â€
into a “day of rage” when thousands of demonstrators overpowered the

police and security services and burned symbols of the regime across the
country. A remarkable feature of the crowds was their commitment to
non-violence and ad hoc organisation of relief and other basic services
to ensure orderly protests. The military acknowledged the protests’
legitimacy and Mubarak was forced into conceding ever-greater checks
on his power. These culminated in his announcement to stand down as
president following the “march of the millions” on 1 February demand-
Â€
ing an immediate political transition. In response, pro-Mubarak thugs

on camel and horseback carried out indiscriminate attacks that con-
trasted starkly with the non-violent nature of the anti-Mubarak demon-
strations. This was a desperate act of a regime in its death-throes and
belatedly led the international community to abandon its support for
Mubarak, who stepped down on 11 February.20
Â€
â•… The Arab Spring posed a tremendous challenge to policy-makers across

the region and the world. After the fall of Mubarak, the unrest initially
appeared to sweep across the Middle East and North Africa in a cascad-
ing wave that, for a few weeks at least, seemed to be unstoppable. From
Morocco to Iraq, underlying socio-economic discontent intersected with
political frustration with the authoritarian status quo to generate power-
ful calls for greater levels of freedom, social justice and human dignity.
The entire region was quickly engulfed in protests that challenged and
shattered hitherto “safe” assumptions about the durability of authoritar-
ian control and the sanctity of “red lines” of permissible opposition.
Indeed, the cascading calls for change took academics, as well as officials,
largely by surprise; an article by Stephen Walt in Foreign Policy published
two days after the fall of Tunisian president Zine el-Abidene Ben Ali,
entitled “Why the Tunisian revolution won’t spread,” ended by predicting
that “if you are expecting to see a rapid transformation of the Arab world
in the wake of these events, you are likely to be disappointed.”21
â•… The rise of an interconnected and empowered Arab populace that had
lost its fear changed the region’s politics beyond recognition, even if the
elements of the “deep state” proved far harder to dislodge than early gains
suggested. It is a process that will unfold over years and even decades,
107
although the end-result is still far from clear and, as 2013 proceeded,
prone to the rollback of initial gains and the return of the national secu-
rity state. As political scientist and Beltway insider Marc Lynch correctly
observed, “understanding this newly empowered public and its effects on
the region’s power politics will be one of the major challenges for policy
and scholarship in the coming years.”22 Moreover, these profound social
and political changes across the Arab world occurred against the back-
drop of systemic weakness in Western economies. Particularly badly
affected were southern European states that represented the broader
hinterland of the Middle East, leading to talk of a wider “Mediterranean
crisis.” A decade of war in Afghanistan and Iraq, and the subsequent
operations in Libya in 2011, had resulted in Western military overstretch
that demonstrated the limitations to the efficacy of interventions predi-
cated on the use of force to reshape regional political systems.23
â•… Such cathartic changes took Qatari officials just as much by surprise
as others. Long-standing tensions had plagued the bilateral relationship
between Doha and Cairo for years in the 2000s. According to one anec-
dote, President Mubarak personally visited the Al Jazeera headquarters
in early-2000 to see for himself the upstart young channel that was
causing so much friction in Qatari-Egyptian ties.24 Other issues of dis-
pute revolved around Egypt’s complicity in Israel’s blockade of Gaza,
Qatar’s diplomatic mediation in Darfur—seen as an infringement on
Egypt’s “sphere of influence”—and the status of Egyptian migrant work-
ers in Doha. Yet ironically, Qatar’s ties with Mubarak’s Egypt were actu-
ally improving significantly in the months prior to the Arab Spring. The
process of rapprochement began in November 2010 as Mubarak visited
Emir Sheikh Hamad in Doha.25 Just two weeks later, in mid-December,
Qatari Prime Minister Hamad bin Jassim travelled to Cairo to meet
Mubarak and pave the way for large-scale economic and political coop-
eration. His discussions were said to involve more Qatari investment in
Egypt and closer political consultation over sensitive issues such as Gaza
and Sudan. Notably, after this meeting with HBJ, Qatar’s arch-mediator,
an Egyptian diplomat stated that: “We accept the role that Qatar wants
to play as a growing political mediator in the Middle East, and Qatar
accepts to notify and cooperate with us.”26
â•… Similarly in Syria, Qatar’s relations with the regime of Bashar
Al-Assad had blossomed in the years prior to the outbreak of the Arab
Spring. During the 2000s, Assad and the emir of Qatar “were frequent
108
visitors to each other’s countries” while their respective first ladies, Asma
Al-Assad and Sheikha Mozah, reportedly became close friends.27 Sheikha
Mozah’s Reach Out To Asia (ROTA) initiative started work on a col-
laborative partnership to implement a project on education in sustain-
able environmental behaviour in 174 Syrian schools.28 Qatari and Syrian
officials worked together in southern Lebanon after the July 2006 war
between Israel and Hezbollah, and cooperated in the process of political
dialogue among Lebanese factions that culminated in the Doha
Agreement of May 2008. Qatari investments in Syria proliferated
around this time, with Gulbrandsen suggesting that “a possible motive
for engaging Damascus and attempting to bring it in from its regional
and international isolation was the possibility of improved business
opportunities in a rehabilitated Syria, both for existing and future
investments.”29 In addition, during the concurrent phase of rigidity in
Qatar-Saudi relations, Qatar’s position on issues such as the Israel-
Palestine conflict was arguably closer to Syria’s than to its partners in the
Gulf Cooperation Council. When Qatar organised a regional summit
after the Israeli incursion into Gaza in January 2009, it was attended by
Syria and Hezbollah and boycotted by Egypt and Saudi Arabia, which
instead convened a rival summit in Riyadh.30
â•… Qatari leaders therefore were as unprepared as their regional and
international counterparts for the sudden outbreak of the Arab Spring
in 2011. Rather than paving the way for revolutionary upheaval, Qatar’s
foreign policy between 2007 and 2010 had been intensely pragmatic,
focusing on building a reputation for diplomatic mediation and work-
ing with local and regional partners as required. A clear example was the
boom in Qatari investments in Syria; these totalled up to $12 billion
between 2006 and 2010, particularly in the real estate sector, with col-
laborative ventures including a $350 million resort development in the
Mediterranean town of Latakia being developed by the real estate arm
of the Qatar Investment Authority, Qatari Diar.31 Qatari officials oper-
ated within a regional environment ostensibly marked by “durable
authoritarian” structures of political power and control, and exhibited
little appetite for questioning the status quo in any meaningful way
before 2011 beyond the sometimes inflammatory broadcasting of Al
Jazeera, although even that was reined in when it threatened to inflict
more harm than good on Qatar’s regional relationships.32
109
A Paradigm Shift
All this changed dramatically and speedily in January 2011. In common
with many if not most other broadcasters and analysts, Qatari officials
(and Al Jazeera) were slow to recognise the swelling protest movement
in Tunisia until it reached the capital and posed an imminent danger to
Ben Ali. Even the calls on social media for an Egyptian day of action on
25 January initially received relatively little attention, and as the dem-
Â€
onstrations that triggered the eighteen-day revolt against Mubarak

began, Al Jazeera was airing a sports documentary.33 However, almost as
soon as the magnitude of what was developing in Egypt became appar-
ent, the leadership in Qatar rapidly acknowledged the seismic shifts in
the regional landscape and adjusted their policies accordingly. They were
assisted by Al Jazeera, which became “a focal point for audiences every-
where to share in revolutionary protest” through its iconic round-the-
clock coverage of the unfolding revolution in Cairo’s Tahrir Square.34
â•… Three factors made such a rapid change in Qatari policy possible. The
first was the highly concentrated core of decision-making that was
detailed in Chapter Three. This restricted circle of policy-making responÂ�
sibility interacted with the highly personalised structure of power in
Doha to enable a sudden shift in direction without having to filter pro-
posals through layers of bureaucracy or seek legislative approval. Qatar’s
small size was also a factor that played to its advantage as it meant there
were fewer vested interests or competing factions within policy-making
circles than in larger polities such as Saudi Arabia. This was connected
with the second explanation for Qatar’s greater freedom of action,
namely the lack of domestic constraints on policy-makers as described
in the previous section. Elite decision-making structures unencumbered
by significant domestic demands greatly facilitated the reorientation of
Qatari policy after January 2011. Together, they intersected with the
third factor; the early “direction of travel” of the Arab uprisings aligned
with the grandiose international “branding” of Qatar as an innovative
and dynamic new actor in the Middle East seeking a global stage to
announce itself as such.
â•… The Arab Spring provided an opportunity for Qatari leaders to mark
themselves and their country as distinct from more obviously authoritar-
ian counterparts across the region, and to make a high-profile stand for
“universal norms” such as political and human rights and freedom of
expression, at minimal apparent cost to themselves. The same went for
110
Al Jazeera, which experienced a “breakout moment” with its no-holds-
barred coverage of the latter stages of the Egyptian revolution and the
subsequent uprising against Colonel Gaddafi’s dictatorial regime in
Libya. During the first few giddy weeks of the Arab Spring, when for a
time at least it appeared that virtually anything might be possible, it
seemed that the whole world was watching Al Jazeera. By virtue of its
association with Qatar, this effectively meant that the emirate was in a
position to shape (and indeed create) the narratives emerging within and
about the Arab Spring.
â•… Having just astounded international opinion by securing the FIFA
World Cup one month earlier, international recognition of Qatar’s name
was at its zenith. Moreover, the World Cup bid had made much of the
fact that Qatar was somehow “different” from other states in the Middle
East and North Africa, and the Arab Spring offered a timely chance to
visibly demonstrate this rhetorical difference in practice. This took place
both directly, through the words and actions of Qatari leaders, and indi-
rectly, through Al Jazeera’s (albeit uneven) coverage of the uprisings. The
result was that, especially during the chaotic early months of the Arab
Spring, Qatari diplomacy was at the forefront of attempts to bring
together the regional and international dimensions of policy responses
to the Arab Spring.
â•… Both the emir and HBJ vocally championed an approach that priori-
tised “Arab solutions to Arab problems,” especially during the run-up to
the international intervention in Libya in March 2011. Thus, HBJ took
the lead in assembling the coalition of support for UN Resolution 1973
by explaining that: “Qatar will participate in military action because we
believe there must be Arab states undertaking this action, because the
situation [in Libya] is intolerable.”35 Similarly, he spearheaded early
GCC attempts to reach a negotiated settlement with the mounting
political opposition to President Ali Abdullah Saleh in Yemen that would
see a peaceful transition of power in the country. However, the pitfalls of
Qatar’s relationship with Al Jazeera quickly became apparent as Saleh
denounced Qatar’s “blatant interference in Yemeni affairs” at a rally of
supporters in Sana’a, and added bluntly: “the Qatari initiative is rejected,
rejected, rejected. We reject what comes from Qatar or Al Jazeera.”36
â•… The closed nature of decision-making in Qatar means that the precise
motivations driving the realignment of Qatari policy will likely remain
tightly guarded and difficult for outside observers to penetrate.
111
Nevertheless, theories have been put forth. David Roberts of RUSI
Qatar has noted how analysis of Qatari policy is complicated by the
absence of transparency and official documentation of policy and posi-
tion papers in a relentlessly top-down system of governance. In an article
published in 2012 in Mediterranean Politics, Roberts suggested that
“neither in the Foreign Ministry nor in the Emiri Diwan in Qatar is
there a large-scale strategic plan underscoring and directing Qatar’s for-
eign policy before, during, and after the Arab Spring.”37 Lina Khatib,
founding head of the Program on Arab Reform and Democracy at
Stanford University, suggested instead that pragmatic opportunism lay
behind “Qatar’s quick embrace of revolution:” “As soon as the rules of
the game changed with the Arab Spring, Qatar had to quickly adapt its
methods to stay ahead of the political game.”38 Both are correct in the
points that they make and it is likely that the lack of domestic or indeed
regional constraints on Qatari decision-makers in 2011 enabled the
leadership to swiftly shift tack to take full advantage of the shift in the
prevailing currents surging through the Arab world. Thus, while Mehran
Kamrava has suggested that Qatar pioneered a form of ‘subtle power,’ a
more realistic label might be ‘opportunistic power’ as the emir and HBJ
reacted to the changing regional context with greater foresight and room
for manoeuvre than their peers.
Alignment of Values
The lack of domestic constraints on domestic decision-making thus
intersected with the shifting dynamic of regional events. In its early
stages, the Arab Spring presented little if any direct threat to Qatar or its
interests abroad. As the next chapter makes clear, Gaddafi’s mercurial
regime in Libya constituted a safe platform upon which to make a high-
profile stand against tyrannical misrule and dictatorship. In addition,
the stripping of international legitimacy away from Assad’s Syria offered
a similar opportunity for Qatar. In both cases, the shift from mediation
in conflict-affected environments to the advocacy of intervention was
presented as a natural step-up in the scale of Qatari diplomacy, taking
advantage of the same factors—elite-level, top-down decision-making
and the ability to mobilise all facets of state capitalism—to achieve its
objectives. Furthermore, it presaged a realignment of Qatar’s objectives
with “global values” in a way that resonated powerfully with the inter-
national community of observers and analysts.
112
â•… The uprisings that swept across North Africa in the spring of 2011
were rooted in mass demands for political freedoms and social justice.
These universal norms took precedence over narrower forms of identity
politics in the narratives of protest that so gripped the public imagina-
tion. Amid growing recognition that the international community’s
embrace of autocratic leaders had for decades failed the peoples of the
Arab world, a space opened up for advocates of a new approach to
regional engagement. Moreover, ten years of conflict in Iraq and
Afghanistan had laid bare the failure of Western-led attempts to reshape
regional and international politics by force. On a deeper level, the wider
events of 2011, encompassing mass protests against austerity measures
in southern Europe and the rise of the Occupy movement in North
America, marked a breakdown both in the Washington Consensus and
the Washington Security Doctrine. Their inability to prevent economic
and financial meltdown and military quagmire contributed to the shift
in emphasis of global power, politics and policy-making, as emerging
economies led the way out of the financial crisis and demanded a greater
say in reformulating the structures of international institutions and
global governance.39
â•… Qatari leaders therefore inserted themselves into the maelstrom of
changing regional dynamics and international politics. Their relatively
unique position enabled the emir and HBJ to take the leading role in
responding to the events of the Arab Spring. The failures of hard-power
projection listed above meant the door was open for proponents of soft
power of the sort that Qatar had spent years accruing in the 2000s.
With globalisation redrawing the very notion of “power” and the chan-
nels through which it is transmitted, Qatar, and to a lesser extent the
United Arab Emirates, were able to demonstrate how small states could
play a role in international affairs out of all proportion to their size.
Indeed, as was described in Chapter Two, the rising utility of “soft
power” and sovereign wealth and investment in the arena of interna-
tional relations tapped into Qatar’s strengths. However, while the
delinking of territory from influence initially played to Qatar’s advan-
tage, it subsequently reinforced the drawbacks arising from limited
professional diplomatic capabilities, as will be described in detail later in
this book.40
â•… All the key elements of Qatar’s regional policy came together in and
after February 2011. What was new about the policy responses to Libya
113
and later Syria was the decision to combine the range of soft-power tools
with military hard power in support of regional goals. This new calibra-
tion underpinned the otherwise little-publicised shift in Qatar’s
approach from diplomatic mediation toward an activist and interven-
tionist foreign policy.41 For a few months in the spring of 2011, the Arab
Spring challenged stereotypes of the region in Western mindsets, and
offered political, economic and security-related advantages for nations
and leaders that were far-sighted enough to “come out on top.” The
leadership shown by Qatar, particularly in Libya, and its use of a mix-
ture of hard- and soft-power tools proved popular with Western powers
in the international community, which viewed the country as their link
to facilitating intervention in the Arab world, particularly with regard to
peace-making and democratisation. Such recognition sealed Qatar’s
decade-long emergence as an international actor, and overcame lingering
negative perceptions that had complicated the George W. Bush admin-
Â€
istration’s relationship with Doha.42

â•… Hence the convergence of Qatari and Western responses to the Arab
Spring in early-2011 was consistent with Qatar’s desire to carve a posi-
tion as an independent interlocutor between the Western world and the
Middle East. Especially in Libya, the chance of working with Western
powers to bring about the end of the Gaddafi regime offered a key oppor-
tunity for Qatar to implement the role that it had carefully crafted for
itself. Qatar later played a crucial role in maintaining Western-Arab rela-
tions during the early phase of the Syria crisis, when it rallied the Arab
League to action when the UN Security Council efforts stalled, while
ensuring that diplomatic channels and prospects for multilateral action
between the two bodies were kept firmly open. Their success in establish-
ing Qatar as central to Western-Arab dialogue was evident in initial
Western praise for the country. French defence minister Gerard Longuet
echoed the sentiments of many as he gushed (in reference to Qatari
involvement in the Libyan no-fly zone), “this is the first time that there
is such a level of understanding between Europe and the Arab world.”43
â•… Even higher praise came from President Obama at the end of a meet-
ing with Emir Sheikh Hamad in the White House in April 2011, as he
commented publicly that “We would not have been able, I think, to
shape the kind of broad-based international coalition that includes not
only our NATO members but also includes Arab states, without the
Emir’s leadership.”44 Tellingly, however, Obama struck a very different
114
tone that same evening in unguarded remarks to a private donors’ din-
ner in Chicago. Not realising that he was speaking on an open micro-
phone, the president summarised the emir thus:
Pretty influential guy. He is a big booster, big promoter of democracy all
throughout the Middle East. Reform, reform, reform—you’re seeing it all on
Al Jazeera. Now, he himself is not reforming significantly. There’s no big move
towards democracy in Qatar. Part of the reason is that the per capita income of
Qatar is $145,000 a year. That will dampen a lot of conflict.”45
Regional Exceptions
Just days before Qatar (and the UAE) spearheaded Arab League support
for the humanitarian intervention in eastern Libya in support of anti-
Gaddafi rebels on 19 March 2011, Saudi Arabia led a GCC force into
Â€
Bahrain to crush an escalating Shiite-led revolt against the (fellow Sunni)

Al-Khalifa ruling family. This show of force, in which Qatar was directly
implicated as a member-state of the GCC, demonstrated how the con-
cept of “intervention” could take on very different meanings in diverg-
ing contexts. Although the vast majority of the Peninsula Shield Force
was composed of members of the Saudi Arabian National Guard and
policemen from the UAE, it also contained a small number of Qatari
troops in addition to a naval contingent from Kuwait. Rather than
extolling the mass demonstrations for greater political representation in
Bahrain as he had done over Libya, HBJ struck a very different tone as
he said: “We believe than in order for dialogue to succeed, we have to
defuse this tension through the withdrawal of all from the street.”46 A
senior Qatari military official told the Qatar News Agency that “the
duty of the Qatari force participating in the Peninsula Shield Force is to
contribute in restoring order and security,” adding that “as a Qatari force
we are receiving our orders from the head of the joint Peninsula Shield
Force,” led by Saudi Arabia.47
â•… Qatari actions in Bahrain therefore took place under the collective
GCC mantle. This was very different from the thrusting unilateralism
that characterised some of Qatar’s other Arab Spring policies. The upris-
ings in North Africa did not present a material or ideological threat to
Qatari interests in the same way that a revolt against a fellow ruling
family just twenty-five miles off Qatar’s western shore did. Any far-
reaching concessions to political reform by arguably the weakest link in
115
the chain of Gulf monarchies threatened to embolden opposition move-
ments and calls for change in other GCC states while also upsetting the
delicate sectarian balance of Sunni-Shiite interests. Moreover, Qatar’s
room for manoeuvre was further limited by the paramount importance
placed on maintaining stability in Bahrain by Saudi Arabia, primarily as
part of its struggle with Iran for regional supremacy. The Saudis exer-
cised considerable political and economic leverage over its small eastern
neighbour that long predated the Arab Spring. During the country’s
uprising in the 1990s, small detachments of Saudi forces intervened in
Bahrain while then-minister of the interior, Prince Nayef bin Abdul-
Aziz Al-Saud, declared that the security of Bahrain was inseparable from
that of Saudi Arabia.48
â•… Broadly similar parameters were at play in Yemen, the other site of
major Arab Spring turmoil in the Arabian Peninsula. Like Bahrain,
Yemen held special geostrategic and political interest for Saudi Arabia.
The kingdom maintained a close interest in Yemeni domestic affairs, in
part to prevent a strong rival from emerging in the Arabian Peninsula,
but also to ensure the projection and maintenance of Saudi influence.
Yemen expert Bernard Haykel suggests that “Saudi Arabia has histori-
cally tried to keep Yemen’s central government weak and its political
actors divided.”49 During the five-decade-long tenure of Crown Prince
Sultan bin Abdul-Aziz Al-Saud as Minister of Defence (1962–2011), he
exercised a dominating influence on Saudi-Yemeni relations, which were
characterised as much by informal and personal contacts as by formal
inter-state interactions. Ginny Hill and Gerd Nonneman noted in their
wide-ranging briefing paper on GCC-Yemen relations how “for decades,
he [Sultan] handled payments to his network of contacts and informers
in Yemen, generating resentment in many quarters in the country about
perceived Saudi ‘meddling’.”50 A major vehicle for transmitting such
influence was the Special Office for Yemen Affairs. This was used by
Sultan as a mechanism for channelling billions of dollars in annual pay-
ments to key political elites and partners in Yemen. Yet these flows were
ephemeral and unpredictable at best, closely identified with Sultan’s
personalised contacts, and never institutionalised.51
â•… Mass demonstrations against the thirty-three-year rule of President
Ali Abdullah Saleh erupted in the capital, Sana’a, in February 2011 and
spread rapidly to cities and towns across Yemen. The unrest was
prompted by the convergence of popular anger at widespread corruption
116
with deep economic grievances in a country where nearly half of the
population lives on less than $2 a day. Hundreds of thousands of protes-
tors demanded that Saleh step down immediately, their resolve embold-
ened by elite defections as the political, tribal and military circles that
surrounded Saleh fragmented. These processes gathered momentum
after plain-clothed Yemeni security forces and government supporters
opened fire on peaceful protestors in mid-March and killed more than
fifty people.52 This act led to the defection of the powerful general of the
1st Armoured Division, Ali Mohsen Al-Ahmar, who somewhat improb-
ably declared himself a part of the opposition movement. GCC leaders
stepped in to propose a political transition that would ease Saleh out of
power in an elite-led and top-down process. Notably, the GCC propos-
als had no position for the grassroots pro-democracy movement that had
so unexpectedly emerged to challenge and upend the status quo in
Yemen. Instead, they remained wedded to supporting established politi-
cal actors as GCC leaders sought to bring under control the mobilised
populace and guide the transition to the post-Saleh era.53
â•… Qatari diplomats worked alongside their GCC counterparts in Yemen
in 2011, although their task was made more difficult by Saleh’s outbursts
against Al Jazeera and HBJ. Qatari diplomacy was subsumed within the
Â€
framework of the GCC’s collective role in mediation in Yemen following

the February uprising.54 After the failure of Qatar’s attempts to mediate
in the Houthi rebellion in 2007–8, Doha fell back on multilateral
regional initiatives instead of unilateral approaches toward Yemen. As
part of the Friends of Yemen process that started in 2010 following
regional and international concern at acts of terrorism with Yemeni
origins, Qatari and GCC officials worked closely with Western govern-
ments to try and stabilise Yemen and prod Saleh toward political
reforms. During this period, Qatar provided Yemen with critical sup-
plies of LNG to avert crippling energy shortages. Meanwhile Silatech, a
Qatari foundation linked to Sheikha Mozah, pioneered six vocational
education and training programmes designed to address chronic levels
of youth unemployment by improving the competitiveness and skill-sets
of Yemeni workers.55 Yet these worthy initiatives aside, the overall thrust
of Qatari mediation toward Yemen was channelled through the collec-
tive effort of the GCC rather than conducted unilaterally, consistent
with Qatari policy toward Bahrain in the same period.
117
Mounting Friction
Even at this early stage when hopes were high that the Arab Spring
would lead to transformative change across the region, Qatar’s support
for opposition movements was limited to contexts that posed no physi-
cal or ideological threat to domestic stability. Yet even this was sufficient
to generate considerable friction with Qatar’s GCC neighbours, who
viewed the unfolding unrest with greater alacrity and alarm. Thus, just
as Qatar “stepped up” its wide-ranging regional response to the Arab
Spring, it opened up a widening gap with neighbouring states, notwith-
standing the abovementioned discrepancy in policy toward North Africa
and Syria on the one hand, and the Arabian Peninsula uprisings on the
other. In the immediate aftermath of the Arab Spring uprisings in 2011,
Saudi Arabia and the UAE emerged as architects of policies that aimed
to minimise the fallout from the regional instability, withdrawing sup-
port from beleaguered leaders (in Libya, Syria and Yemen) where neces-
sary, but remaining intensely mistrustful of protests closer to home,
which they blamed on alleged meddling first by Iran and later by the
Muslim Brotherhood.56
â•… As long as Iran was the “external enemy” that allowed regimes to
externalise the roots of political protest by attributing them to foreign
meddling instead of reflecting domestic grievances, Qatar was broadly
on safe ground vis-à-vis Saudi Arabia and the other GCC states. The
history of closer relations between Qatar and Iran aside, sectarian ten-
sions mounted across the Gulf throughout 2011. Officials in Riyadh,
Manama and Abu Dhabi attributed the persistent and deadly political
demonstrations in Bahrain and the Eastern Province of Saudi Arabia to
Iranian interference in (Arab) Gulf affairs. Thus, Bahrain’s foreign min-
ister, Sheikh Khalid bin Ahmed Al-Khalifa, claimed in April 2011 that
“we have never seen such a sustained campaign from Iran on Bahrain
and the Gulf as we’ve seen in the past two months,” while the UAE
foreign minister, Sheikh Abdullah bin Zayed Al-Nahyan, bluntly warned
Iran to “respect the unity and sovereignty of Gulf countries.”57 Indeed,
Qatari initiatives, such as the emir’s 2012 visit to Gaza and the burgeon-
ing support from the Gulf states for anti-Assad rebels in Syria, fell into
a broader pattern of GCC states’ attempts to detach Iran’s regional prox-
ies from Tehran’s embrace.
â•… However, the rise to power of the Muslim Brotherhood in Tunisia
and Egypt in late-2011 and early-2012 generated intense anxiety among
118
officials in the Gulf at the organisation’s supposed trans-national links.
This was seen most acutely in the UAE, where ninety-four Emiratis were
arrested on charges of threatening national security and belonging to a
“clandestine organisation”—Al-Islah, a local affiliate of the Muslim
Brotherhood—that aimed to overthrow the government.58 As evidence
mounted during 2012 of the Brotherhood’s determination to consoli-
date its political power in Egypt, even in the face of repeated denials of
such intent, it superseded Iran as the target of accusatory statements in
Gulf capitals. Again the UAE provides the strongest case of this, as the
outspoken chief of police in Dubai, Lieutenant-General Dahi Khalfan,
claimed in March 2012 that the “Brotherhood was plotting to change
the regimes in the Gulf … The start will be in Kuwait in 2013 and in
other Gulf States in 2016.”59 Later, in July 2012, Dahi Khalfan reiter-
ated his proclamation: “We warn the Gulf States of the Muslim
Brotherhood because they are more of a threat to us than Iran;”60 while
in October, Foreign Minister Abdullah bin Zayed claimed that “the
Muslim Brotherhood does not believe in the nation state.”61 Hence
Qatar’s close alignment with the Brotherhood, both intellectually
through the presence in Doha of Yusuf al-Qaradawi, and practically
through Qatari support for Brotherhood-affiliates in Syria, Egypt and
elsewhere in North Africa, injected powerful new tensions into Doha’s
regional and international relationships. As Lina Khatib argues:
The lack of a coherent strategy in its foreign policy makes Qatar susceptible to
international and domestic sources of instability—going against one of the
main drivers behind Qatar’s foreign policy … that is maintaining its own secu-
rity and stability.62
â•… Qatar’s new leadership confronted such a scenario after taking power
on 25 June 2013. The defenestration of the Muslim Brotherhood-led
Â€
government in Cairo the following week plunged Doha into crisis-lim-

itation mode and forced the young new emir, Sheikh Tamim bin Hamad
Al-Thani, to distance himself from the contentious policies of his father
and, more pertinently, from those of HBJ.
119
5
ARAB SOLUTIONS TO ARAB PROBLEMS
LIBYA AND SYRIA
Beginning in March 2011 in Libya, Qatar embarked upon a decisively

new role in its efforts to exert leadership in the Arab world. The emphasis
of Qatari policy underwent a groundbreaking shift away from diplomatic
mediation and investment in post-conflict reconstruction and recovery
toward an activist and even interventionist approach to the Arab Spring.
During 2011 and 2012, the focus of the emir and the prime minister was
on assisting, if not facilitating, an armed intervention in two of the
bloodiest theatres of upheaval, Libya and Syria. Qatar’s role in the cam-
paign to oust Libya’s long-standing dictator, Colonel Muammar Gaddafi,
in 2011 indicated a new direction in Qatari regional and foreign policy
with the unprecedented use of political, economic, and both direct and
indirect military support. The apparent success of this policy in toppling
Gaddafi in August 2011 represented the zenith of Qatar’s perceived
power and influence in the Arab world. However, subsequent develop-
ments in Syria and across the region underlined how Qatari officials
overplayed their hand and overestimated their ability to trigger far-
reaching changes to regional structures.
â•… This chapter examines in detail the nature and extent of the Qatari
interventions in Libya and Syria, the two most violent and complex
frontlines of the Arab Spring. It begins by describing how the conflu-
121
ence of factors described in the previous chapter came together in 2011
to propel Qatar’s regional policy from one of mediation into one of
intervention. This occurred as Qatar held the rotating presidency of the
Arab League, providing Prime Minister Sheikh Hamad bin Jassim
Al-Thani (HBJ) with a platform to put into practice his call for “Arab
solutions to Arab problems.” Such a stance resonated heavily with the
Qatari leaders’ perception of themselves as playing a bridging role
between the regional and international communities.1 Initially, it proved
highly successful as the campaign to oust Gaddafi and Al Jazeera’s pio-
neering coverage of the early phase of the Arab uprisings won Qatar
global attention and international acclaim, greatly strengthening the
country’s potent state-branding strategy in the process.
â•… The second half of the chapter shifts the focus to the over-extension
of Qatari policy and power. It explores the backlash in Libya that gained
momentum once the extent of Qatari involvement became known, but
concentrates primarily on the subsequent attempt to rally regional and
international support for intervening in the worsening conflict in Syria.
When this was not forthcoming, Qatari policy became more unilateral-
ist and unpredictable, exposing in the process the limitations facing
small states in international politics. With Qatar unable to mobilise the
international community as it had over Libya and regional scepticism of
Qatar’s foreign policy motives soaring, the activist foreign policy
espoused so successfully in 2011 showed signs of wearing very thin by
the end of 2012, months before the formal shift in leadership occurred
in Doha. The emphasis placed on the drawbacks of Qatari policy sets
the stage for the final chapter of the book, which argues that Qatar’s
policy toward the Arab Spring made the country less secure as it alien-
ated powerful regional and international actors and won few friends
among the international community.
Qatar and Libya

Prior to 2011, the Qatari leadership had engaged with the long-standing
autocratic regime of Colonel Gaddafi on multiple issues. These related
to Qatar’s more general involvement in mediation initiatives. In particu-
lar, Qatar helped the Libyan government resolve disputes with the
United Kingdom (over the imprisonment and subsequent release of
Abdelbaset al-Megrahi, the man convicted of the 1988 Lockerbie bomb-
122
ing) and with the European Union (over the sentencing to death of five
Bulgarian nurses for allegedly conspiring to deliberately infect children
with the HIV virus, on very flimsy evidence). Officials in Doha
attempted to downplay these connections after the start of the Libyan
uprising, and certainly they fell far short of the degree of Qatari involve-
ment elsewhere, but Gaddafi did appear to regard Qatar as a regional ally
and thus was taken aback by the apparent policy reversal toward outright
opposition in 2011.2 Gaddafi’s view was based on a fundamental mis-
reading of Qatar’s foreign policy objectives, which as Bernard Haykel
notes, meant that Qatar was “not ideologically committed to anything
and is thus willing to make alliances, either temporary or of long dura-
tion, if this is deemed to be in the country’s interest.”3 Thus, when condi-
tions in Libya and North Africa changed so dramatically early in 2011,
Qatari policy adapted pragmatically to the new regional outlook.
â•… The rebellion that began in Benghazi on 15 February 2011 against
Â€
Gaddafi’s mercurial dictatorship of forty-two years allowed Qatar to

translate into action its ambition, not only to be an interlocutor
between the Middle East and the Western world, but also a desire to be
seen as an innovative Arab actor capable of doing things differently. In
addition to rallying world opinion to the side of the anti-Gaddafi rebels,
Qatar was the first Arab state to officially recognise the National
Transitional Council (NTC), and played an instrumental role in mobil-
ising Arab and international support for the creation of the no-fly zone
(NFZ) and the passage of UN Resolution 1973. Qatar’s initial moves
paved the way for the subsequent NATO intervention, which saved the
nascent rebellion from annihilation and slowly turned the tide of war
against Gaddafi, ultimately leading to the dictator’s grisly demise on
20 October 2011.
Â€
â•… The Benghazi rebellion began just four days after the fall of President
Hosni Mubarak sent shockwaves throughout the Middle East and North
Africa. Libya’s second city and a large swathe of eastern Libya quickly
fell into the hands of opposition fighters and a number of military units
defected to the rebel movement. In the febrile atmosphere of the early
days of the Arab upheaval, the rapid spread of the uprising across Libya
seemed to confirm the contagious nature of the regional outpouring of
rage against authoritarian misrule. However, by late-February, the ragtag
groups of rebels were meeting fierce resistance from government security
forces. Global condemnation of the regime’s attempts to put down the
123
rebellion escalated sharply as Gaddafi became the international pariah
he had been prior to his renouncing of weapons of mass destruction in
2003. By mid-March, reports that the regime was on the verge of retak-
ing Benghazi led to urgent calls by sections of the international com-
munity for intervention to forestall a possible massacre of the city’s
civilian population.4
â•… From the outset, Qatar—along with France and the United Kingdom—
was pivotal in mobilising the international community to action.
Crucially, Qatar rallied Arab support through the Arab League for the
imposition of the NFZ over Libya. Prime Minister Hamad bin Jassim
engineered Libya’s suspension from the Arab League and subsequently
secured a unanimous vote of support in favour of the NFZ after a con-
frontational battle with Algeria. HBJ justified Qatar’s emboldened posi-
tion as important not merely for humanitarian reasons, but also “to
encourage the hope that the Arab League can be a mechanism to pre-
vent these things from happening.” Declaring that “the politicians of the
Arabs should be more serious,” HBJ asserted that Arab League and UN
support for the NFZ constituted “an example of how we can cooperate,”
adding that “we told them [the Arab League], what is the alternative—
to leave people subject to Gaddafi or to go to the UN.”5
â•… HBJ’s comments reinforced the Qatari leadership’s perception that
the Libya crisis offered an opportunity for Qatar to align its support for
the protection of human rights and democratic expression in a manner
that resonated powerfully with the (Western-led) international com-
munity. The bloodshed unleashed by a flailing regime with few regional
partners or international allies represented a safe target on which to
make a high-visibility stand against tyranny. Thus, once UN Security
Council Resolution 1973 authorising the NATO-led intervention was
passed, HBJ stated that “Qatar will participate in military action because
we believe there must be Arab states undertaking this action, because the
situation is intolerable.”6 Qatar’s pledge of military involvement (fol-
lowed by the United Arab Emirates) was significant in watering down
any regional suspicion that the intervention might constitute another
example of Western military incursion into the affairs of an Arab state.
â•… Intervention in Libya thereby boosted Qatar’s burgeoning credibility
as a responsible actor in international affairs, building upon the world-
wide recognition granted by the success of the 2022 World Cup bid and
Al Jazeera’s coverage from Tahrir Square in Cairo. Yet the timing of
124
Resolution 1973 and the military action that followed also served
another useful purpose. The vote at the UN took place on 19 March Â€
2011, only five days after the Gulf Cooperation Council dispatched
military personnel to Bahrain to restore order in the face of a popular
uprising against the ruling Al-Khalifa family. Although the Peninsula
Shield Force consisted mostly of Saudi Arabian National Guard and
UAE police units, Qatari troops formed part of the deployment. On
17 March, the Qatar News Agency quoted Colonel Abdullah Al-Hajri
Â€
as stating that the duty of the Force was to “contribute in restoring order
and security.”7 The near-simultaneous moves into Bahrain and Libya—
just five days apart—revealed how ostensibly the same concept (inter-
vention) could take on very divergent meanings in differing contexts.
â•… Qatar’s military and financial assistance proved critical to the success
of the Libyan uprising, particularly in enabling the fledgling NTC to
gather momentum. Aside from extending quick diplomatic recognition
to the opposition, Qatari Mirage fighters took part in the NATO-led air
strikes, and the Qatar-based Libya TV gave the rebels a voice to make
their cause heard across the world. The creation of the Doha-based sta-
tion was intended to counteract the Gaddafi regime’s propaganda
machine, and demonstrated Qatar’s keen appreciation of the media’s
potential to influence narratives, perceptions and events.8 Al Jazeera’s
coverage of the conflict was also critical in shaping regional and interna-
tional responses to the unfolding conflict. In some cases, either owing to
the “fog of war” or reflective of deeper editorial lines, the international
media whipped itself into a frenzy over supposed regime atrocities that
proved rather harder to substantiate in practice. In one notorious exam-
ple, Hugh Roberts, the director of the International Crisis Group’s
North Africa project and an internationally-acclaimed expert on the
region, spent months investigating a story reported by Al Jazeera on
21 February 2011 that subsequently was picked up by news outlets
Â€
around the world. Al Jazeera had reported that Gaddafi was using his air
force to strafe peaceful civilian demonstrators in Tripoli and other cities.
However, after finding no documentary evidence or eyewitness accounts
to corroborate this, Roberts concluded that “the story was untrue, just
as the story that went round the world in August 1990 that Iraqi troops
were slaughtering Kuwaiti babies by turning off their incubators was
untrue and the claims in the sexed-up dossier on Saddam’s weapons of
mass destruction were untrue.”9
125
â•… Qatar’s interests in Libya were projected by personal connections, soft
power, and awareness that the campaign offered a marketing of the
Qatari “brand.” In addition, the state capitalist model and the small
apex of senior decision-makers in Doha enabled them to pull together
the different elements of state power to push through a multifaceted
intervention in Libya. NTC chairman Mahmoud Jibril was largely based
in Doha throughout the revolution, finding it easier to coordinate action
from there rather than from the ostensible rebel stronghold of Benghazi.
Non-military forms of assistance were also crucial, and included more
than $400 million in financial aid, supplies of water, heating gas and
essential goods, and help with selling and marketing Libyan oil from
eastern ports under rebel control.10 In addition, Qatar organised and
hosted the first meeting of the International Contact Group on Libya in
April 2011 and a follow-up gathering in August, and periodically
attempted to restart mediation talks between representatives of the
Gaddafi regime and opposition groups.11
â•… These efforts notwithstanding, the Libyan conflict degenerated into a
stalemate over the spring of 2011. This in part reflected the rudimentary
and poor quality of many of the armed fighters opposing Gaddafi’s elite
forces, as described laconically by Dawisha:
Day after day the same scenario repeated itself. The rebels, mounting pickups
and driving sedans, armed with machine guns and assault weapons, fortified by
revolutionary enthusiasm and given to repeated shouts of Allahu Akbar (“God
is great”) would advance onto a village or town in haphazard fashion with no
central command or direction. More often than not, they would succeed in
pushing government forces back a mile or so, and would sound their horns and
delightedly wave their AK-47s in the air … A few hours, or a day or two later,
Gaddafi’s forces would initiate a counteroffensive with tanks, artillery, and
other heavy weaponry, and the rebels would put up a desperate but losing fight
and start retreating, in their flotilla of pickups and sedans, all driving at break-
neck speed down the road whence they came, no longer smiling or waving, yet
still shouting the praises of the Almighty.12
â•… Only in May 2011 did the tide of war slowly begin to turn against
Gaddafi. A combination of formal and more controversial informal
military assistance hastened the shift in the balance of power between
the regime and its opponents. On the formal side, NATO airstrikes led
by Britain and France escalated their targeting of strategic assets and
began systematically to degrade Gaddafi’s tanks, rocket launchers, troop
carriers and artillery positions, as well as by hitting government posi-
126
tions and command-and-control headquarters.13 Qatar supplied weap-
ons, training, and operational advice to rebel forces in addition to elite
forces that were controversially only later revealed to be operating in
their hundreds throughout Libya. However, neither Qatar nor the UAE
coordinated their military assistance to the Libyan opposition and in
fact supported different rebel brigades, thereby complicating the task of
unifying the anti-Gaddafi movement from its earliest phase, and con-
tributing in no small way to the subsequent splintering of the movement
once it was in power after October 2011.14
â•… Rather more murkily, Qatar developed close links with key Islamist
militia commanders Abdelhakim Belhadj, of the feared Tripoli Brigade,
and the al-Salabi brothers. Belhadj was a former leader of the Libyan
Islamic Fighting Group who had been rendered by the CIA to Libya in
2004 before being rehabilitated by the regime in 2007. Ali al-Salabi
lived in exile in Qatar prior to the 2011 revolution and became arguably
Libya’s most influential cleric, while his brother Ismael became known
as the leader of one of the best-supplied rebel militias, the Rafallah al-
Sahati Companies. Qatar was widely suspected of arming and funding
the group, whose sudden munificence of resources earned it the nick-
name of the “Ferrari 17 Brigade.”15 These personal connections built on
the fact that Qatar had provided a haven for political exiles from across
the region, including one of the founders of Algeria’s notorious (and
banned) Front Islamique du Salut (FIS), Abbasi Madani. Although this
policy of welcoming dissidents evolved more by accident than by design,
it did give Qatar considerable soft power leverage over key individuals
which could be tapped into as and when necessary.16
â•… Qatar’s policy of identifying and picking winners (which invariably
hailed from Islamist groups) seemed at first to have paid off in August
2011. The most controversial aspect of Qatar’s newly-flexed military
strategy was the deployment of Qatari troops to support rebel groups in
the vital last weeks of the campaign to oust Gaddafi. Qatari Special
Forces reportedly assisted the rebels as they swept out of the Nafusa
Mountains and converged on the capital, and were active on the front-
lines of the final showdown at Gaddafi’s Bab al-Aziziya compound in
Tripoli in August 2011. One report of the fighting in Tripoli claimed
“members of the Qatari Special Forces, trained by Britain, could be seen
clearly directing the final assault on the compound.” Describing the
successful taking of Tripoli, British defence expert Robert Fox explained
127
that although “it has been a genuine Arab coalition … I think it was the
Qataris that led them through the breach.”17
â•… The sight of Qatar’s maroon and white flag flying alongside the free
Libya flag in the captured ruins of Gaddafi’s compound was thus as
symbolic as it was revealing. Indeed, it was only after the fall of Gaddafi
that the extent of Qatar’s military involvement in the campaign became
widely known. In October 2011, the Qatari Chief of Staff, Major-
General Hamad bin Ali Al-Attiyah, claimed that:
The numbers of Qataris on the ground were hundreds in every region. Training
and communications had been in Qatari hands. Qatar … supervised the rebels’
plans because they are civilians and did not have enough military experience …
We acted as the link between the rebels and NATO forces.18
â•… In gratitude for Qatari involvement, which was also reported to have
included the provision of infantry training and advanced communica-
tions equipment to Libyan fighters in the Nafusa Mountains, the newly
governing NTC immediately renamed Algeria Square in Tripoli to
Qatar Square.19 Shortly after the death of Gaddafi on 20 October 2011
Â€
marked the formal ending of the revolutionary campaign, Libyan offi-

cials estimated that Qatar had provided more than 20,000 tonnes of
weapons in at least eighteen separate shipments, as well as tens of mil-
lions of dollars in aid. However, only five of the transfers appeared to
have been made through the official channel that had been set up by the
NTC for this purpose, with the remainder being channelled through Ali
al-Salabi’s Islamist networks.20
â•… An article on Qatar’s military involvement in Libya that appeared in
the Wall Street Journal in October 2011 painted a somewhat darker
picture. The article related to a meeting of Libyan military leaders in
Tripoli on 11 September, three weeks after the city had fallen to the
Â€
anti-Gaddafi rebels. The leaders of Libya’s disparate militias had gathered

in order to reach an agreement on creating a unified command that
would end the fragmentation of power and authority in the post-Gad-
dafi transition. As they were nearing a deal, the article described what
allegedly happened next when two men, one of whom was Abdel Hakim
Belhadj, walked in:
Now the city’s most visible military commander, he accused the local militia
leaders of sidelining him … ‘You will never do this without me,’ he said.
Standing wordlessly behind him, these people say, was Maj. Gen. Hamad Ben
128
Ali al-Attiyah—the chief of staff of the tiny Arab Gulf nation of Qatar … The
foreign military commander’s appearance in Tripoli, which one person familiar
with the visit said caught Libya’s interim leaders by surprise, is testament to
Qatar’s key role in helping to bring down Libya’s strongman.21
â•… Tensions quickly emerged between the NTC and the many groups of
rebels and militias. As the NTC struggled to impose itself as the legiti-
mate political authority in Libya, Qatar became caught up in the cross-
fire and recriminations. Leading the charge against perceived Qatari
meddling was Ali Tarhouni, the acting oil and finance minister and
deputy chief of the NTC’s executive committee. Tarhouni had returned
to Libya from his professorship at the University of Washington in
Seattle as the revolution gained momentum in early-2011, and after
Gaddafi’s death was charged with incorporating the numerous rebel
militias into a fledgling national army.22 However, he soon ran into dif-
ficulties as the groups resisted his attempt to exert control. Although not
naming Qatar specifically, Tarhouni subsequently told a news confer-
ence in October: “It’s time we publicly declare that anyone who wants
to come to our house has to knock on our front door first. I hope this
message will be received by all our friends, both our Arab brothers and
Western powers.”23 The following month, after the chairman of the
NTC, Mustapha Abdul-Jalil, also publicly criticised Qatar for continu-
ing to undertake actions in Libya “that we as the NTC don’t know
about,” Tarhouni added that “they have brought armaments, and they
have given them to people that we don’t know—I think paid money to
just about anybody. They intervened in committees that have control
over security issues.”24
â•… The speed with which Qatar’s reputation in Libya soured reflected the
intense sensitivities involved in restoring a semblance of post-revolution-
ary order. More than 300 militias continued to operate in the post-
Gaddafi Libya and the country was awash with weaponry from unregu-
lated arms dumps. The dire security situation built upon and magnified
existing fault-lines and flashpoints in the transitional period. These
included fissures between groups that deserted the Gaddafi regime early
on in the uprising and others that only did so once the outcome of the
struggle became clearer; between opposition figures who fought in Libya
and others in the diaspora who later returned home expecting to play a
role; and among territorially-based groups of fighters, notably the com-
peting (and clashing) militias in Benghazi, Misrata and the Nafusa
129
Mountains. Together, they amounted to a fractious and unresolved
political situation and a lack of national consensus on critical issues of
political authority and control of security.25
â•… Qatar’s dramatic fall from grace was sealed in the July 2012 constitu-
ent assembly election. In the first free election held in the country for
decades, Belhadj’s Al-Watan (Homeland) party was favoured to do very
well in the wake of Islamist electoral successes in neighbouring Tunisia
and Egypt. Whether by accident or design, Al-Watan chose the colours
of the Qatari flag—maroon and white—as its party colours, thereby
reinforcing public scepticism of its (and Qatar’s) objectives. Moreover,
the party spent lavishly on campaigning and was “a huge presence” in
Tripoli during the run-up to the vote.26 Yet in a stunning reversal of
expectations, the party won only one seat, with even Belhadj failing to
win in his constituency seat in Tripoli. Although the party’s failure
reflected multiple factors, such as the deliberate blurring of the “Islamist/
secularist divide” by other parties and the weakness of Islamist socio-
political networks that had not been allowed to form in Gaddafi’s Libya,
public concerns about the relationship with Qatar did play a role in
determining their rejection of Belhadj’s manifesto.27
â•… As the revolutionary euphoria of 2011 gave way to the difficult pro-
cess of embedding institutional and accountable governing structures in
2012, it became clear that Qatar was failing to translate short-term gains
into long-term influence. This in part was due to the aforementioned
lack of depth in Qatari professional diplomatic capabilities discussed in
earlier chapters, and notably the challenge of institutionalising outcomes
that had resulted from largely personalised decision-making processes.
The same limitations that had held back the monitoring, evaluation and
implementation of Qatar’s mediatory initiatives in Lebanon, Yemen and
Darfur prior to 2011 also hindered Qatar’s ability to follow through in
post-Gaddafi Libya. As early as December 2011, one well-informed
Qatari observer commented “we simply don’t have the capacity to take
on an issue as large and complex as Libya’s transition.”28
â•… Yet, because of the high-profile spotlight that was placed on Qatari
policy-making in the wake of the Arab Spring, both regional and inter-
national scrutiny was simultaneously more rigorous and less forgiving.
A prime example was the mounting US concern over the flows of
Qatar’s arms shipments and particularly the apparent lack of regulation
or oversight over their destination. The issue took on added urgency in
130
Washington, DC following the death of US ambassador Christopher
Stevens in September 2012 amid signs that radical Islamist organisations
were gaining control over large swathes of Benghazi and eastern Libya.
Although the Obama administration initially encouraged Qatar to sup-
ply weapons to rebel groups in the early months of the uprising, the
New York Times recounted how, as early as the emir’s visit to the White
House in April 2011, “the president made the point to the emir that we
needed transparency about what Qatar was doing in Libya.” The news-
paper also cited former State Department advisor Vali Nasr as stating:
“To do this right, you have to have on-the-ground intelligence and you
have to have experience. If you rely on a country that doesn’t have those
things, you are really flying blind.”29
Crisis in Syria
The uprising in Syria prompted Qatar’s second intervention in the Arab
Spring. However, a world of difference separated the cases of Libya and
Syria as flashpoints in the unfolding regional upheaval. Whereas
Gaddafi’s regime was diplomatically isolated and politically (and physi-
cally) remote from major regional actors, Syria lay at the geopolitical
heart of the Middle East. The multicultural fabric and sectarian balance
within Syria combined with its cross-regional tribal links and political
alliances to ensure that the civil unrest that started in March 2011 was
not contained purely within the country. Syria became the battleground
for proxy wars waged with increasing intensity and ferocity by groups
linked to both sides of the primary Sunni-Shiite divide. Within this
series of lethal and overlapping conflicts it was fanciful to suppose that
any one country could hope to influence, let alone control, develop-
ments on the ground. Yet whether by accident or design, or simply flush
from their apparent success in Libya, this is precisely what the Qatari
leadership attempted to do in late-2011 and throughout 2012.
â•… Qatar was one of the first Arab states to suspend diplomatic relations
in Syria. It did this (alongside the freezing of Qatari investments in
Syria) in July 2011 after the Qatari Embassy in Damascus was attacked
by protestors angry at Al Jazeera’s “exaggerated and dishonest” coverage
of the growing violence. The move was significant in that it contributed
to the Assad regime’s growing international isolation.30 It also marked an
important about-turn in Qatari policy toward Syria, ending a period of
131
rapprochement that had seen flows of Qatari investment into Syria and
a warming of relations between the Qatari ruling family and President
Assad, who reportedly took family holidays in the Gulf emirate. Moreover,
as Emirati commentator Sultan Sooud Al-Qassemi noted, the two coun-
tries were geopolitical bedfellows for a period before 2011: “Both states,
along with Iran, Hezbollah, and Hamas, were seen as a regional coun-
terbalance to the pro-Western axis of Egypt, Jordan, Saudi Arabia, and
the UAE.” Indeed, as discussed in Chapter Three, in January 2009 the
other GCC states refused to participate in a Qatari-organised summit to
discuss the aftermath of the Israeli bombardment of Gaza, leaving Syria
(and Hamas) as its only supporters.31
â•… A popular revolt against President Bashar Al-Assad’s rule began with
peaceful protests in March 2011. It began in the southern city of Dera’a
when youths caught writing anti-government graffiti on the walls of a
school were seized by security forces and viciously tortured. Although
little-different from the myriad other instances of regime injustices com-
mitted by the Syrian security services, their action in this case proved to
be the spark that lit the flame of popular mobilisation, in much the
same manner as Mohamed Bouazizi’s self-immolation in Tunisia.32 Non-
violent protests at the teenagers’ treatment and the contemptuous atti-
tude of local officials escalated and spread to other towns and cities
across Syria but were met with increasingly violent regime repression.
The Assad regime rapidly mobilised its elite units among the Syrian
security services, including the feared 4th Armoured Division com-
manded by the president’s brother, Maher Al-Assad.33 As early as
17 March, demonstrators were being shot down in Syrian squares, sym-
Â€
bols of Ba’ath party rule were being attacked and defaced, and Al Jazeera
was airing the first grainy mobile phone footage of the government
crackdown.34 The brutal and indiscriminate use of violence was consis-
tent with a cold-blooded regime that had shown little if any compunc-
tion in massacring tens of thousands of its own civilians in Hama in
1982. Advances in information, communications and technology meant
it was no longer possible to seal off or shield such atrocities from the
international community, as had happened in Hama three decades ear-
lier. However, while Assad’s regime chose to deploy massive and lethal
force from the outset, what followed was also, in the words of promi-
nent American Middle East watcher Marc Lynch, “an energetic media
campaign organised outside Syria [that] pushed a narrative of protest
132
and challenge largely divorced from realities on the ground, raising
uncomfortable questions that have never been fully engaged about the
line between information and activism.”35
â•… As the number of deaths mounted inexorably—from 2,000 by the
summer of 2011 to more than 5,000 confirmed by December—the
demonstrations increasingly turned violent as the opposition militarised
and new groups, represented only loosely and ineffectually by the “offi-
cial opposition” elements of the Syrian National Council and the Free
Syrian Army, began to form. By late-2011, large areas of northern Syria
were under at least partial rebel control. The radicalisation of the upris-
ing in Syria undermined the possibility for national dialogue and politi-
cal reform as hardliners in the regime and among the opposition groups
gained in strength. Moreover, Syria’s position at the heart of the Middle
East’s geopolitical and ethno-sectarian crosscurrents also complicated
attempts to mediate or resolve the crisis in favour of one side or the
other. Simply put, Syria was not another Libya and Assad was not
Gaddafi, bereft of regional allies and international partners. On the con-
trary, the Syrian regime could count on long-standing geopolitical sup-
port, whether from its long-standing ties with Iran, a surprising new ally
in Iraq where Nouri al-Maliki’s government had overturned its previous
hostility to Damascus to fall into Tehran’s line, or the ambivalence of
UN Security Council members Russia and China to any new interven-
tion into the domestic affairs of a sovereign state so soon after Libya.36
â•… The international community made repeated attempts to end the
violence that was directed against civilian protestors and halt the slide
toward civil war. However, in almost all cases, these efforts proved disap-
pointing, with blockage at the United Nations preventing any firm
action to end the crackdown. Here, the unintended legacy of Security
Council Resolution 1973 authorising the creation of the no-fly zone in
Libya became apparent. That resolution had passed with five abstentions
from Russia, China, Germany, Brazil and India—a combination of
emerging economies and regional powers that shared deep misgivings
about the haste with which advocates of intervention in Libya had made
their move. Such concerns were subsequently reinforced by the extent
to which NATO exceeded the initial mandate for humanitarian protec-
tion. Richard Falk, the UN Special Rapporteur on Palestinian human
rights, noted presciently that the limited mandate was disregarded
almost from the beginning and added that “NATO forces were obvi-
133
ously far less committed to their supposed protective role than to ensur-
ing that the balance of forces within Libya would be tipped in the direc-
tion of the insurrectionary challenge.” Falk suggested also that countries
such as Russia and China would almost certainly not have merely
abstained had the true intent of NATO (and Qatari) objectives been
explicitly made clear at the time of the resolution. This made it far more
difficult to envisage that sceptical members of the Security Council
might authorise a new intervention in Syria so soon after.37 Sergei
Lavrov, the Russian foreign minister, confirmed as much in an interview
with ABC Australia in January 2012, when he stated that “the interna-
tional community unfortunately did take sides in Libya and we would
never allow the Security Council to authorise anything similar to what
happened in Libya.”38
â•… In the absence of international action, the Arab League—usually
known more for its ineffectiveness than spasms of decisive action—took
the lead in early peace-making initiatives. The League first reacted by
proposing a peace plan that included provisions for the withdrawal of
government forces from cities, and called for the government to enter
into talks with opposition groups. Although the Syrian government
agreed to the plan on 2 November 2011, the following day its security
Â€
forces were accused of killing eleven people in Homs as the onslaught

against civilians continued apace. Following the Syrian government’s
evident disregard for the plan, Arab states voted to suspend Syria from
the Arab League at an emergency session of the twenty-two-member
organisation in Cairo on 12 November. Simultaneously, the Arab
Â€
League imposed targeted economic and political sanctions on Syria over

its failure to halt the violence in moves supported by eighteen members,
with three countries (Lebanon, Yemen and Syria) voting against the
measures and Iraq abstaining. The measures included the freezing of
Syrian government assets in Arab countries, halting trade dealings with
Syria’s central bank, and ending Arab investment in the public and pri-
vate sectors in Syria.39
â•… One reason for the greater assertiveness of the Arab League during
this formative period at the start of the Arab Spring was that Qatar held
its rotating presidency for an unprecedented second term in 2011–12.
The country that hosts the Arab League summit at the start of its annual
term traditionally holds the presidency; thus, following the Doha
Summit in March 2009, Qatar assumed the League’s leadership for
134
2009–10 before handing over to Gaddafi’s Libya at the Tripoli Summit
in March 2010. Then, in February 2011, just weeks before the next
Arab League was scheduled to take place in Baghdad (with Iraq’s Nouri
al-Maliki taking over its leadership), Libya was suspended from the
League. The summit was postponed and the decision was taken to revert
the presidency back to Qatar rather than proceed to al-Maliki, where-
upon Prime Minister Hamad bin Jassim once again took over on
22 February 2011 for a further year at the helm of the organisation.40
Â€
â•… This unanticipated, and for Qatar, fortuitous turn of events posi-
tioned HBJ to play an organising role in the Arab response to the car-
nage in Syria. In the summer and autumn of 2011, Qatari self-confi-
dence was at its height in the aftermath of the removal of Gaddafi from
forty-two-years of power in Libya. This translated into a feeling among
Qatari policy-leaders that practically anything might be possible, and
suspicions of “hubris” were epitomised by reports of a dramatic alterca-
tion over the line to take on Syria between HBJ and the Algerian delega-
tion at an Arab League ministerial meeting in November 2011.41
According to diplomatic sources cited in the Gulf States Newsletter,
Algerian foreign minister Mourad Medelci requested that a closed meet-
ing be convened “to treat the Syrian case more wisely and to review the
decision to suspend Syria’s Arab League membership as that would pro-
voke a more complicated situation.” To this, HBJ was alleged to have
responded: “Stop defending Syria because your turn will come, and
perhaps you will need us.” The reporting of such an (albeit unsubstanti-
ated) display of the arrogance of power prompted one Algerian newspa-
per to ask, “Isn’t it time to stop this micro-country from thinking it is
allowed to do what it pleases?”42 Behind this condescending remark lay
a feeling of incomprehension at the ability of such a small state to proj-
ect a degree of power and influence far out of proportion to its size, as
was also seen in the reported description in 2013 by the head of Saudi
intelligence, Prince Bandar bin Sultan Al-Saud, of Qatar as “nothing
more than 300 people … and a TV channel.”43
â•… Thus, it was HBJ who issued the public statements following the
Arab League decision to suspend Syria and impose political and eco-
nomic sanctions in November 2011. After claiming that “Syria is a dear
country for all of us and it pains us to make this decision,” he added:
“We are calling all Syrian opposition parties to a meeting at the Arab
League headquarters to agree a unified vision for the transitional
135
period.”44 Five weeks later on 18 December 2011, after several extended
Â€
deadlines were met with repeated stalling from the Syrian government,
the Arab League threatened to take the matter to the UN Security
Council, which was at that time in the process of negotiating a resolu-
tion on Syria proposed by Russia. The pressure had an effect in that it
persuaded Assad’s government to allow international observers to enter
the country to monitor the situation.45 However, the Arab League
observer mission that subsequently spent a month in Syria in January
2012 was mired in controversy and failed to achieve any noticeable
results; moreover, it tarnished further the organisation’s reputation for
inefficiency, particularly after it emerged that the mission’s head,
General Mohammed al-Dabi, was himself suspected of involvement in
Sudanese government atrocities in Darfur.46
â•… Amid the Arab League’s floundering mission, which was suspended
in late-January and finally recalled in mid-February 2012, the emir of
Qatar called for armed intervention in the Syrian uprising. As with his
earlier leading from the front over Libya, Sheikh Hamad bin Khalifa
became the first Arab leader to publicly support the dispatching of
foreign troops to Syria to try to stop the bloodshed, telling CBS News’s
60 Minutes programme that “for such a situation to stop … some
troops should go to stop the killing.” He added that Qatari policy
toward the Arab Spring uprisings was to side with “the people of those
countries … asking for justice and dignity … I think this is a healthy
influence. I think all the world should support this.”47 However, in spite
of this and similar support for arming the opposition by Saud Al-Faisal
Al-Saud, the foreign minister of Saudi Arabia, the violence in Syria
continued unabated. Moreover, an inaugural meeting of a Friends of
Syria group held in Tunisia in February 2012 ended in disarray as the
Saudi delegation walked out in protest at the inability to agree on a
common stance, despite HBJ using the occasion to call for the creation
of an Arab force to “open humanitarian corridors to provide security to
the Syrian people.”48
â•… Following this renewed failure, the fragile unity of the Arab League,
previously upheld by Qatar, faltered. HBJ himself admitted (in a meet-
ing with UN Secretary-General Ban Ki-Moon in January 2012), “there
were some mistakes” in the way the Arab League mission had been
organised and deployed.49 Yet such ineffectiveness came as a significant
blow to the Arab League, and also to Qatar, given its highly visible com-
136
mitment to keeping the problem under “Arab control” during its year of
leadership.50 As a result, the March 2012 Arab League summit in
Baghdad (that should have taken place in the Iraqi capital a year earlier)
was characterised by tension, division, and a resultant weak stance on
Syria, as Iraqi Prime Minister Nouri al-Maliki pleaded for external actors
not to intervene.51 Qatar made clear its distaste for the reluctance of
countries such as Iraq and Lebanon to act decisively, and began to take
a progressively harder line on Syria, calling again for the mobilisation of
Arab troops to stop the killing and publicly imploring the international
community to support and arm the opposition to the Syrian govern-
ment. Furthermore, in March 2012, it emerged that the Qatari authori-
ties may have provided a covert $100 million “donation” to the rebel
cause sent through Libyan coffers, following the establishment of a mili-
tary council to coordinate arms donations from the international com-
munity by the Syrian National Council.52
â•… Analysts touted such overt calls for arming the opposition as a turn-
ing point that would pave the way for external intervention on the side
of the anti-government forces in the war in Syria. Yet many in the inter-
national community, including members of the Friends of Syria group
made up of around eighty Arab and Western states, openly rejected
Qatari calls for providing arms or outright intervention. The reason
cited was often the fear of fuelling civil strife as the initially peaceful
uprising gave way to a growing sectarian civil war marked by acts of
extreme brutality on all sides. By early-April 2012, it appeared for a
moment as though a diplomatic solution might be achievable, as Assad
agreed to a United Nations six-point peace plan proposed by the UN
peace envoy (and former secretary-general) Kofi Annan. However, both
in the United States and in Qatar, analysts and policy-makers remained
sceptical as to the good faith of the Syrian government.53
â•… The long-awaited outcome of the Syria crisis therefore remained unre-
solved as the conflict entered its second year. Qatar’s vocal, flexible and
proactive role in the crisis had not triggered an immediate or far-reach-
ing impact as it had in Libya the year before. In the face of evidence that
the Qatari star was wearing thin, policy pronouncements from Doha
became more strident and desperate. In October 2012, HBJ accused the
Syrian government of genocide after the failure of (yet another) four-day
ceasefire attempt. The Qatar News Agency quoted HBJ as stating explo-
sively that: “What is happening in Syria is not a civil war but a genocide,
137
a war of extermination with a license to kill by the Syrian government
and the international community … Everything that is happening now
is a waste of time and just buying time to kill the Syrian people and to
destroy the Syrian infrastructure.”54
â•… As the focus of multilateral initiatives shifted back from the Arab
League to the United Nations with the appointment first of Kofi Annan
and later of veteran mediator Lakhdar Brahimi as UN peace envoy, the
Gulf states began to adopt unilateral and largely unregulated policies
toward Syria. In the views of Qatari and other Gulf officials, the deci-
sion to channel arms and funding to opposition groups was a natural
progression following the successive failure of calls for internal reform,
diplomatic mediation, and the multilateral Arab League/United Nations
approach.55 Such a reversion to unilateralism was not uncontroversial,
however, with American officials expressing particular concern for the
possibility that arms might end up in terror-designated hands. This led
to pressure being placed on the Gulf states to limit the transfers of weap-
onry to small arms rather than heavy weapons or shoulder-fired missiles.
This occurred as US officials claimed that, “The opposition groups that
are receiving the most of the lethal aid are exactly the ones we don’t want
to have it.”56
â•… During 2012, with the numbers of deaths in Syria multiplying to
more than 60,000 by the year’s end, allegations persisted that Qatar,
along with Saudi Arabia and Kuwait, were channelling financial aid and
small arms to opposition fighters and groups. In September, Time
Magazine conducted an in-depth investigative report into the matter. It
found that Qatari and Saudi funding and weaponry was finding its way
to competing factions within the Free Syrian Army. Whereas Qatar was
reported to have developed close links with the Muslim Brotherhood of
Syria (in line with Qatari support for the organisation and its offshoots
in North Africa), other Gulf networks were alleged to have favoured
Salafi groups said to form part of broader Islamist networks of fighters
in Syria. The report concluded that Qatar and Saudi Arabia were
engaged in “a game of conflicting favourites that is getting in the way of
creating a unified rebel force to topple the Assad regime.”57 Meanwhile,
Kuwait emerged as a pivotal player in the flow of financial support to
Syrian insurgents as well as humanitarian aid to rebel-controlled areas.
An investigation by Abu Dhabi’s The National newspaper described
Kuwait as “the back office of logistical support” for rebel groups in Syria
owing to the substantial flows of private money and both lethal and
138
non-lethal assistance directly to the battleground, bypassing interna-
tional agencies and monitoring schemes.58
â•… With a lack of consensus both within the Syrian opposition and
among the international community over the shape that any political
settlement may take, Qatari involvement in the country is (and will
remain) vulnerable to reputational risk. Michael Stephens of the Qatar-
based branch of the Royal United Services Institute (RUSI) think-tank
warned in September 2012, “Syria has the potential to discredit Qatar
in a big way … Qatar thinks it’s Libya all over again. But at this point,
they cannot just insert themselves into the diplomatic process and
appear free of an agenda.”59 Writing again several months later, in
February 2013, Stephens suggested that local and regional suspicion of
Qatari motivations and policy objectives were compounded by Doha’s
shortcomings in public diplomacy and institutional depth:
When the rumours get so large that answers are demanded they are met with
walls of silence, not because Qatar has anything to hide, but because that is the
culture of governance here … regional leadership needs more than a TV station
and five people at the top of the government making all the decisions. It is
impossible with the number of world problems in which Qatar is involving itself
for five people to possess the information necessary to deal with them adequately
… In short, Qatar’s culture of silence is beginning to backfire badly.60
â•… This notwithstanding, Qatari leaders continued in their efforts to

resolve the Syrian crisis. In November 2012, a meeting of Syrian oppo-
sition leaders convened in Doha to try and iron out their many differ-
ences and competing agendas. As was the pattern with Qatar’s pre-2011
mediatory initiatives, delegates met at two of Doha’s glitziest hotels—
The Sheraton and The Ritz-Carlton—in an atmosphere far removed
from the violence and suffering of the people they claimed to represent.
Participants used the meeting as an opportunity for grandstanding,
with the New York Times reporting a preponderance of “flowery
speeches about nationalism rather than addressing unity.”61 After four
days of intense negotiations, the delegates agreed to establish an umbrella
organisation, the National Coalition of Syrian Revolutionary and
Opposition Forces, to unite the multiple ethno-sectarian- and regional-
based opposition factions under one body, and establish political coor-
dination over the disparate military wings.62
â•… Although HBJ joined US Secretary of State Hillary Clinton in wel-
coming the outcome of the Doha meeting, it was not at all clear how the
139
new group would be any more effective than the already existing Syrian
National Council (SNC). The Wall Street Journal summed up the diffi-
cult task facing the new coalition: “It faces a challenge in controlling the
sprawling patchwork of rebel militias and councils fighting regime forces
and, in some parts of the country, already governing rebel-held areas.”63
Moreover, the tensions that had plagued the opposition for months
remained close to the surface even as the conference proceeded, with the
Qatar-supported Muslim Brotherhood of Syria drawing particular ire
from other delegates. The head of the Revolutionary Council in the
town of Idlib stated that the “haphazard financing coming from abroad
was demoralising, especially because it was distributed on a political
basis,” adding caustically that the SNC had appointed a member of the
Muslim Brotherhood in his sixties as the “youth envoy” for Idlib: “The
guy had not been there for 32 years … If you dropped him at the edge
of town, I doubt he could find his old house.”64
â•… The new coalition failed to establish any great credentials as a political
power broker or a central hub for coordinating military or financial aid
to the Syrian opposition. Its inability to do so did further harm to Qatar’s
attempts to reach a multilateral solution to the crisis, and increased the
likelihood of unregulated and destabilising flows of unilateral support by
Gulf governments to selected groups of rebels. Moreover, it added to the
growing chorus of critics of Qatari policy-making that pointed to Doha’s
lack of institutional depth in following-through and implementing its
regional initiatives. It might have been thought axiomatic that a country
of such socio-ethnic and geopolitical complexity as Syria was beyond the
“management” of any external actor, but this caution was not readily
apparent as the Qatari leadership advocated a policy of intervention in
2011 and 2012. The result, as the conflict entered into its third year, was
a weakening of regional and international resolve on Syria that was to
begin with powerless to alleviate or end the human suffering.
â•… By early-2013, the trend in unilateral approaches to Syria was clear.
Private fundraising events had become common spectacles in the GCC
states and even developed into a form of one-upmanship as individual
tribes and organisations competed with each other to raise money and
support. The aforementioned investigation by The National found that
Kuwait “has emerged as a central fund-raising hub for direct financial
support for insurgents” fighting in Syria, alongside estimates that tens of
millions of dollars had been provided in humanitarian aid alone.65
However, much of the aid was said to be bypassing the UN and inter-
140
national aid agencies, and was instead being sent directly into rebel-held
areas, utilising ties of tribal kinship and local networks that are unavail-
able to the international organisations.66 The difficulty of tracking such
flows of fighters and funds was compounded by the opacity, lack of
transparency, and absence of monitoring that have long been features of
Gulf governments’ overseas aid and assistance policies in other conflict-
affected environments.67
â•… Some of these pathologies were on display during and after the
UN-organised donor conference on Syria that took place in Kuwait on
30 January 2013. The meeting resulted in pledges of more than $1.5
Â€
billion in humanitarian assistance, with Kuwait alone pledging $300

million, a figure matched by Saudi Arabia and the UAE. A separate but
Â€
parallel gathering of seventy-seven local, regional and international chari-

ties and private donors raised a further $182 million in pledges. Just one
week later, however, the crown prince of Abu Dhabi, Sheikh Mohammed
bin Zayed Al-Nahyan, peremptorily announced that the UAE would
disburse its contribution directly to the “Syrian people” (however vaguely
defined) rather than multilaterally through UN auspices.68
â•… The persistence of unilateral approaches both to military and humanÂ�
itarian support risks undermining the collective effort to resolve the
Syrian crisis. Lack of coordination among donors may result in dupli-
cate or overlapping policies. Country-specific flows may target recipients
based on their affiliation to particular organisations rather than their
actual need for assistance or support. Gulf sympathies for their Sunni
brethren in Syria also exacerbate the prospects of further radicalisation
and sectarianisation of the civil conflict and an escalating cycle of atroc-
ity and counter-atrocity. So long as there is no common “Gulf approach”
to Syria, such unregulated flows are more likely than not to destabilise
the country by empowering diverse and often competing recipients.69
â•… Subsequent events during the spring and summer of 2013 provided
further evidence of both the fragmentation of international policy
toward Syria as well as the waning of Qatar’s regional influence. Over
the course of the spring, primary responsibility for leading the Gulf
states’ engagement with the Syrian opposition was passed from Qatar to
Saudi Arabia. Tortuous negotiations were held in Istanbul in May to
expand the sixty-three-seat Syrian National Council by adding an addi-
tional forty-three seats, with particular emphasis placed on including a
liberal bloc headed by Michel Kilo and backed by Western and Arab
governments. This was widely seen as a Saudi-led attempt to dilute the
141
influence of the (Qatar-backed) Syrian branch of the Muslim BrotherÂ�
hood in the Council by broadening its membership and composition.
When twelve delegates from Syria’s Muslim Brotherhood met (surpris-
ingly) with Saudi Arabia’s Foreign Minister Saud Al-Faisal Al-Saud in
May 2013, they received a pledge of increased Saudi political and finan-
cial support for the SNC if it expanded to include “moderate,” minority,
and Salafi groups as a counterweight to the influence of the Brotherhood
and radical jihadi groups in opposition political and military bodies.
â•… However, the coalition’s Qatar-backed secretary-general, Mustafa
Al-Sabbagh, resisted the mooted expansion. An initial proposal to award
twenty-two seats to Kilo’s grouping was blocked by the Islamist-
dominated council, which instead offered the liberals a mere five seats
before settling on a compromise of fourteen. This laid bare the divisions
within the Council and their respective external connections, as
Al-Sabbagh was appointed the political head of the opposition at the
Doha meeting in November 2012 that created the coalition. Along with
Turkey (the other major regional backer of the Muslim Brotherhood),
Qatar then orchestrated the selection of Ghassan Hitto, a naturalised US
citizen and long-time resident of Texas, to head an interim government
in March 2013. This produced a further backlash as Saudi anger at his
appointment prompted them to get directly involved in opposition
politics in Syria, while several figures suspended their membership of the
opposition coalition in protest, meaning that Hitto was unable to form
a provisional administration. As the political and military stalemate
continued, Qatar’s support for the Muslim Brotherhood faction was
increasingly seen as a major cause of the persistent divisions within the
Syrian opposition; a lengthy investigation by the Financial Times, enti-
tled “How Qatar Seized Control of the Syrian Revolution,” found that
opinions on Qatar among the Syrian opposition had polarised and in
many cases become extremely critical and negative. One rebel com-
mander interviewed by the report’s authors stated simply that “after two
years it is time for everyone involved in Syria to review their actions and
engage in self-correction.”70
â•… A combination of rising Syrian, regional, and international pressure on
Qatar culminated in the “transfer” of responsibility for the “Syria file”
from Doha to Riyadh in April 2013. Qatar’s policy of “picking winners”
among Islamist groups linked with the Muslim Brotherhood had come
in for intense scrutiny and criticism in the wake of the crisis in Mali in
142
early-2013, as the next chapter makes clear. Tensions with Saudi Arabia
and the UAE also grew as the differences in policy approaches toward the
Muslim Brotherhood widened.71 Finally, the emir’s visit to the White
House in April 2013 was to some extent overshadowed by pressure from
US officials on Qatar to ensure that none of the weaponry Qatar was
sending to Syria ended up in the hands of Jabhat al-Nusra or other
extremist jihadi groups. Signs of friction in the Qatar-US relationship
also appeared as HBJ declared himself exasperated with the lack of action
by the international community: “You know, we put a lot of red lines.
Scud, he [Assad] used Scud. Chemicals, he used chemicals. And there is
evidence. But he used them in pockets, small pockets. He wants to try
your reaction. No reaction? He will escalate.”72
â•… HBJ’s words of warning became tragically prophetic four months
later when regime forces were linked to the devastating chemical attack
in Ghouta on 21 August 2013 that killed more than 1,400 people, yet
Â€
was not followed by military responses against the Assad regime. So too
did the soon-to-be-ousted prime minister’s call upon the US to do more
to stop the bloodshed: “I believe that if we stopped this one year ago, we
will not see the bad people you are talking about.” HBJ also claimed,
somewhat implausibly given the evidence, that Qatar had not sought
the international limelight on Syria, asserting: “We did not want to take
the lead. We begged a lot of countries to start to take the lead and we
will be in the back seat. But we find ourselves in the front seat.”73 During
the spring of 2013, HBJ’s Minister of State for Foreign Affairs, Khalid
Al-Attiyah, became more prominent in Qatar’s foreign policy-making
and played a key role in trying to repair Qatari-Saudi tensions and align
approaches to Syria, prefiguring his subsequent replacement of HBJ as
foreign minister in June. Shortly after the 26 June handover of leader-
Â€
ship in Qatar, a transition of power also occurred among the SNC as it

replaced Mustafa Al-Sabbagh and Ghassan Hitto with Ahmad Jarba on
6 July. A tribal figure from the powerful Shammar tribe—which
Â€
extended from Syria into Saudi Arabia, Kuwait and Iraq (with Saudi
king Abdullah bin Abdul-Aziz Al-Saud himself descended from the
Shammar through his mother)—Jarba enjoyed close connections with
Saudi Arabia, and his victory was seen as reinforcing Saudi influence
over the fractious opposition coalition.74
Seeking to build upon its successful marshalling of regional and interna-

tional forces over Libya in early-2011, Qatar led the Gulf states in hoping
143
for a “quick win” in Syria. As these aspirations faded and the grim brutal-
ity of the civil war continued to escalate with no clear outcome in sight,
Qatari policy pronouncements became shriller and less practical, with a
prime example being HBJ’s abovementioned statement in October 2012
accusing the Assad regime of orchestrating a policy of “genocide.” To the
mounting disappointment at the inability of Qatari funding and support
to deliver tangible results on the ground is added growing awareness that
only other, larger external powers, such as Russia or Iran, have the capac-
ity to meaningfully alter the balance of power within Syria. But therein
lies the difficulty for Qatar: having picked “winners” that failed to deliver
in Syria, there does not appear to be a Plan B to fall back on, while the
public denunciations of Assad mean that the one-time “non-stop media-
tor” can no longer be seen as a credible diplomatic interlocutor in any
eventual settlement. Thus, as Blake Hounshell aptly observed as early as
the summer of 2012, “If Libya represented the apotheosis of Qatari
power, Syria represents its limits.”75
â•… In the whirlwind atmosphere of 2011, when at times anything seemed
possible as old certainties were being shattered across the region, Qatar’s
approach constituted something new and potentially transformative in
the development of a comprehensive approach to deploying both hard
and soft tools of power. It certainly won the small emirate many plaudits
with one commentator stating bluntly, “Qatar is not punching above its
weight, but has become a heavyweight.”76 Nevertheless, as Chapter Six
makes clear, this has not come without a cost as the Arab Spring turned
out to be far more convoluted, drawn out, and regressively non-linear
than many anticipated. This raises profound questions about the future
orientation of Qatari policy under new leadership in a region increas-
ingly sceptical and resistant to the projection of Qatar’s soft and hard
power, and these will be addressed in the Epilogue.
144
6
POST-ARAB SPRING CHALLENGES

AND IMPLICATIONS
This chapter turns the spotlight onto the implications of the highly
visible policy shift for the future of Qatari foreign and domestic policy
as the initial tumult of the Arab Spring gives way to a renewed phase of
political authoritarianism marked by greater social polarisation across
the Middle East. It examines the sustainability of Qatar’s decisions made
during the Arab Spring and questions whether they made the country
any more secure. As the quest for security formed the cornerstone of the
ambitious regional and foreign policy objectives launched by the emir
and his prime minister throughout the decade of the 2000s, the chapter
begins with a summary overview of the pillars that underpinned Qatari
stability and underwrote its rise to global prominence. This leads into
the main body of the analysis, which addresses the consequences arising
from the Arab Spring-era projection of Qatari soft and hard power
across the Middle East and North Africa for Qatar’s short-, medium-
and longer-term prospects.
â•… Three major policy consequences are identified. The first is that
Qatar’s move from mediation toward a more activist, interventionist
regional policy has undermined, perhaps even shattered, the country’s
reputation as an impartial and honest broker. For at least the foreseeable
future, Qatar’s new leaders will find it difficult to revert to their role as
diplomatic mediators that propelled the country to international atten-
145
tion in the late-2000s. As instances of regional and even international
pushback against Qatari policy multiply, so too does the risk that Qatari
actions will be misunderstood or misrepresented in ways that actively
damage the state-branding strategy that had proved so successful in
placing Qatar firmly on the global map. The unproven accusations lev-
elled at Qatar’s alleged links with armed Islamist groups in northern
Mali in 2012–13 constitute a potent case in point, as do the tensions
these caused in Qatar’s relationship with France and Algeria.
â•… This intersects with the second implication of Qatar’s Arab Spring
policy, which is that Doha’s record of picking winners backfired badly
and endangered key regional relationships with other Gulf Cooperation
Council (GCC) states. In the transition states of Egypt, Tunisia and
Libya, as well as in the Syrian civil war, the perception that Qatar has
thrown its weight behind the Muslim Brotherhood and affiliated
Islamist organisations generated extreme friction both among other local
groups and fellow GCC states. It propelled Qatar onto a collision course
with its Gulf neighbours, chiefly Saudi Arabia and the United Arab
Emirates, with both expressing extreme disquiet at the empowerment of
the Muslim Brotherhood across the region. For months prior to Qatar’s
leadership transition on 25 June 2013 and the removal of President
Â€
Mohamed Morsi’s Muslim Brotherhood-led government in Egypt a

week later, Qatari actions were no longer seen through the benign lens
of 2011 but rather were viewed with great suspicion by public and
political opinion in recipient states. In the months after the cathartic
events of June and July 2013 that marked the crushing of the Arab
Spring, Qatar was marginalised in regional policy-making as neighbour-
ing Gulf states moved quickly to extend large-scale political and finan-
cial support to the military-led transitional government in Cairo.
â•… The third implication is domestic. With Qatar assuming such a
prominent role in championing the uprisings against authoritarian rule
in North Africa and in Syria, attention inevitably focused on the lack of
political freedoms back at home. Incidents of repression—such as the
sentencing of a Qatari poet to life imprisonment for criticising the
Qatari leadership—fuelled accusations that Qatar was following a set of
double standards toward the Arab Spring. Meanwhile, greater scrutiny
of domestic issues, such as the condition of migrant labourers in the
context of Qatari preparations for the 2022 FIFA World Cup, revealed
a seamier side to Qatari policies that arguably “comes with the territory”
146
POST-ARAB SPRING CHALLENGES AND IMPLICATIONS
of seeking a greater global role. As with the other two dimensions of
Qatari policy mentioned above, these inflicted significant damage on
Qatar’s state-branding and international image. Finally, instances such
as the lack of follow-up to the emir’s announcement in October 2011 of
parliamentary elections by 2013 reinforced the views of sceptics that
Qatari policy may be more about style than actual substance.
â•… Together, these factors suggest that Qatar’s activist response to the
Arab Spring achieved the opposite of what was intended. Although in
the heady days of spring 2011 it appeared that almost anything might
be possible, Qatar’s old and new leadership are caught in the crossfire of
regional blowback as the Arab Spring gives way to a messy and uncertain
period of political and economic turmoil across the region. By so pub-
licly raising the standard for political rights and freedoms, the Qatari
leadership has become a hostage to fortune should similar demands ever
develop within Qatar itself. Signs of unease among Qatari nationals at
their leaders’ policies multiplied in 2012 as one of Qatar’s most promi-
nent academics issued a manifesto for political reform. Although the
new leadership under Emir Tamim is expected to refocus attention
domestically, the decade of development ahead of the 2022 FIFA World
Cup means the inexorable pace of economic growth and social develop-
ments will continue, as will Qatar’s position in the international spot-
light. The challenge for Qatar under the new Emir is to ensure the
smooth operation of these trajectories, which may well be easier said
than done.
The Search for Security

Sandwiched among three larger powers in a volatile regional neighbour-
hood, the traditional perils of small-state syndrome have been magnified
in Qatar’s case. J.E. Peterson has described how Qatar’s “small size com-
Â€
bined with its enormous wealth” meant that a search for security formed
the cornerstone of its nuanced deployment of soft and hard power and
influence.1 Qatari leaders throughout the state’s modern history have also
played off competing and rival powers both in a bid to maximise their
own interests and to prevent undue dependence on any one power.
Securing regional and international leverage and goodwill was thus a
strategy that ensured that Qatar had multiple allies with a direct stake in
its survival as well as boosting the country’s global recognition as a new
147
power that “did things differently.” As analysed in Part I of this book, this
included the pursuit of ostensibly contradictory policies of engaging eco-
nomically with Iran while reaching out to Israel and hosting the United
States Central Command, even as Al Jazeera (in its early years) developed
a reputation among American policy-makers in the George W. Bush Â€
administration of being less than supportive in the “war on terror.”2

â•… The role of liquefied natural gas was also instrumental in constructing
a web of partnerships among key international partners around the
world. The signing of long-term gas deals introduced a set of external
“stakeholders” with a direct interest in a stable and secure Qatar. These
covered areas as diverse as the United Kingdom, China, Japan, Taiwan
and South Korea, with the twenty-five-year agreement reached in 2009
between Qatargas and the China National Offshore Oil Corporation
(CNOOC) and PetroChina demonstrating the durable long-term inter-
dependencies being created.
â•… David Roberts has identified the intersection of the abovementioned
need for international partnerships with Qatar’s dynamic approach to
state-branding. These factors came together in what he described as:
The desire to promote Qatar, for not only is anonymity a bad quality to have
should something go catastrophically wrong (as it did to Kuwait in 1990), but
promoting a brand for Qatar that will stand out gives Qatar a competitive edge
against its neighbours.3
â•… Just as the possession of some of the largest oil reserves in the world
ensured that Kuwait was not forgotten by the international community
during its hour of need, so too did Qatar methodically build up its
reserves of international leverage and goodwill. Moreover, as described
in the early chapters of this book, the changing global environment
facilitated the decoupling of territorial size from external influence.
During the long boom years of the 2000s, this deployment of a range of
conventional and non-conventional instruments of power enabled
Qatar’s rulers to convert the accrual of great wealth into regional and
international leverage that far outstripped the normal limitations of a
small state. Aside from requiring academics and policy-makers to reas-
sess prevailing assumptions about the role of small states in world poli-
tics and international relations, Qatar’s rise highlighted the changing
nature of power and influence in a relentlessly globalising context.4
â•… Yet, even before taking into consideration the consequences of Qatar’s
activist role in the Arab Spring which forms the main substance of this
148
chapter, transformative changes are taking place in the structure and
balance of the global energy landscape that will significantly alter and
potentially reduce Qatar’s position in that system. Beginning in the
late-2000s, a combination of technological advances and political
choices set in motion what Amy Myers Jaffe has labelled a “hydrocar-
bon-driven reordering of geopolitics.” By the 2020s, she argues, “the
capital of energy will likely have shifted back to the Western Hemisphere,
where it was prior to the ascendancy of Middle Eastern mega-suppliers”
in the 1950s.5 This already is occurring as new technologies such as hori-
zontal drilling and less invasive hydraulic fracturing techniques are mak-
ing it possible to unlock the vast amounts of unconventional hydrocar-
bons deposits in the Americas, which, in addition to shale gas, amount
to an estimated 2.4 trillion barrels of unconventional oil in Canada, a
further 2 trillion in the United States, and over 2 trillion in South
America. Together, these deposits—which encompass on-land shale
rock, oil sands, heavy oil formations, and formerly hard-to-reach off-
shore deposits such as the “pre-salt” deep-water reserves off Brazil’s
Atlantic coastline—dwarf the estimated 1.2 trillion barrels of conven-
tional oil reserves in the Middle East and North Africa.6
â•… While barriers to developing the full potential of the unconventional
hydrocarbons “revolution” remain, particularly in the context of the
proactive environmental and other political lobby groups in North
America as well as the struggle to become cost-competitive with conven-
tional reserves in the Gulf, the broader trajectory of change is neverthe-
less clear. Qatari production of LNG peaked in 2010 with the much-
heralded plateau of 77 million tonnes a year, and Qatari authorities have
imposed a moratorium on new exploration in the offshore North Field
gas formation until at least 2014. Moreover, the March 2013 announce-
ment of the discovery of Qatar’s first new gas field in more than forty
years added to the consensus that Qatari reserves are unlikely to grow
significantly in the future.7 Thus, while the country has reaped the ben-
efits of first-mover advantage resulting from the emir’s far-sighted deci-
sion to prioritise LNG production in the 1990s, the challenge facing
Qatari officials is that this comparative advantage is unlikely to last for
many more years to come. Already the expansion of the LNG trains at
Ras Laffan in the late-2000s that were earmarked for growing Qatar’s
share of the North American market have had to be reallocated, as US
demand for imported gas has fallen dramatically. Furthermore, ambi-
149
tious plans to expand LNG capacity elsewhere will erode Qatar’s market
share, with Australia being forecast to overtake Qatar as the world’s
largest exporter by 2018. As of 2012, no less than 70 per cent of global
LNG capacity under construction was in Australia in order to service gas
reserves expected to last for at least four decades to come.8
â•… The rapid rise of Australian and other suppliers of LNG, not least in
the US, poses two medium-term policy challenges to Qatar. The first is
a scenario in which supply outstrips demand to produce a global glut
that drives down LNG prices, which have already fallen substantially
over the past decade. High demand for imported gas supplies in Japan
and South Korea (which account for more than half of global demand)
has resulted in an “Asian premium,” whereby prices for LNG are sub-
stantially higher than in other consuming regions such as North America
or Europe.9 Japan, for example, pays up to $16 per million British ther-
mal units (MMBTU) for its gas (using the Japan Crude Cocktail index),
more than four times the $3.60 price per MMBTU for US piped gas in
North America, while European Union states pay a slightly lower but
still high price of $11–$15 per MMBTU. These markets are precisely
Â€
the ones that Qatari LNG has been locked into in long-term supply
deals but they will expire in the late-2010s and early-2020s. However,
Japanese officials have joined with Indian and European counterparts to
press for lower LNG prices, and Japan also plans to begin importing
cheaper LNG from the US (by 2017) and potentially from Canada as
well.10 Were these supplies to come on-stream, they would directly
undermine Qatar’s first-mover advantage in its most profitable markets.
Moreover, LNG prices in Asia will likely fall in any case as they are
delinked from world oil prices and as new LNG facilities and natural gas
pipelines are built in Russia, Central Asia and North America.11 Thus,
the difficulty of reaping similar profit margins in an oversupplied market
with intense competition from producers like Australia, the US and
Canada represents the second challenge for Qatar, which may then face
the task of reorienting its LNG infrastructure toward meeting energy
shortfalls in neighbouring Gulf and Middle Eastern states.12
â•… In November 2012, unusually outspoken remarks by the British gov-
ernment’s official advisor on energy policy went to the heart of the
policy dilemmas that may face Qatar and its international partners in
the future. Caught out by secret filming, Lord Howell of Guildford,
who as David Howell served as energy secretary during the Thatcher
150
premiership, warned of the risks to British energy security of over-rely-
ing on imports of LNG cargoes from Qatar. In blunt and somewhat
industrial terms, Howell pointed out that “Qatar’s a great place but it’s
also near to a lot of jihadists … [It is] the size of Guildford. If it was to
go into chaos we would be up shit creek, we really would.”13 With the
United Kingdom heavily dependent on Qatari gas imports, Lord
Howell’s wariness is entirely explicable in an energy security perspective,
and is doubtless shared by officials in Qatar’s other energy partners. In
this context, any emergent prospect of domestic unrest or regional push-
back arising out of Qatar’s breakneck Arab Spring policies would inevi-
tably have repercussions that go far beyond Qatar’s borders.
Loss of Impartiality
The first major implication of Qatar’s policy responses to the Arab Spring
is the effect on the country’s carefully constructed reputation for impar-
tiality that underpinned its diplomatic mediation and peace-building
efforts. Building a record as a relatively honest neutral broker lacking the
historical or political baggage of regional heavyweights such as Egypt or
Saudi Arabia enabled Qatari policy-makers to carve a powerful niche as
mediators par excellence. However, this reputation was undermined by
the Qatari leadership’s post-2011 turn toward an activist and interven-
tionist foreign policy.
â•… Any such loss of impartiality would be very damaging for what had
been the rising star of the Gulf. The extended crisis in Syria and Qatar’s
failure to bring about an end to the violence served to reinforce sceptics’
views that the tiny emirate had moved out of its depth without due
regard for the consequences of its actions. Aside from threatening Qatar’s
international reputation as a niche mediator, it also had consequences for
the country’s domestic security, based as it was on achieving a delicate
balancing act of appeasing different and often contradicting interests. The
widespread anger generated by some of Qatar’s Arab Spring policies
across the Middle East and North Africa had the unintended conse-
quence of leaving the country increasingly isolated in the region.
â•… Persistent rumours of Qatari involvement in the Islamist takeover of
northern Mali in 2012 demonstrated the challenging new environment
of regional scepticism of Doha’s actions. A military coup in March 2012
overthrew the Malian government led by President Amadou Toumani
151
Touré. Two weeks later, Tuareg rebels seized control of the north of Mali
and proclaimed an Independent State of Azawad. Ironically, many of the
rebels had fought for Colonel Gaddafi in the Libyan armed forces during
the 2011 uprising against him. The return of these battle-trained and
armed fighters provided the spark for the uprising that started in Mali in
January 2012. The National Movement for the Liberation of Azawad
(MNLA) rapidly gained in strength and in late-March seized the three
largest cities in northern Mali. However, splits between the MNLA and
the militant Islamist group Ansar Dine resulted in the loss of control of
the region to Ansar Dine and another fundamentalist organisation, the
Movement for Unity and Jihad in West Africa (MUJWA).
â•… As conditions in northern Mali worsened throughout 2012, regional
and international attention began to focus on the activities of a small
team from the Qatari Red Crescent. Their activities were unremarkable,
with one member of the team noting that they had gone to the city of
Gao simply “to evaluate the humanitarian needs of the region in terms of
water and electricity access.”14 The fact that the Qatari team was able to
get to Gao reflected the inherently pragmatic and humanitarian nature
of their mission as they negotiated with layers of local and regional offi-
cials. Yet, as the only humanitarian organisation that was granted access
to the north by the Islamist separatists, suspicion of their work soon
intersected with wider concerns at Qatar’s policy of backing armed
Islamist groups in Libya and Syria. The most vocal and sustained criti-
cism of Qatar’s supposed actions in northern Mali came from Algeria,
whose relations with Qatar had deteriorated sharply since 2011, and
France, where the departure of President Nicolas Sarkozy from power led
to a sudden chill in ties under his successor, François Hollande.
â•… During the summer and autumn of 2012, the French investigative
and satirical magazine Le Canard Enchaîné published a stream of accusa-
tions that the Qatari Red Crescent team was a front, and that Qatar was
helping to fund armed groups in northern Mali. One allegation even
suggested that Qatari Special Forces were training rebels linked to Ansar
Dine, in a manner reminiscent of their role in strengthening Abdulhakim
Belhadj’s Tripoli Brigade in Libya. Remarkably, this information was
said to have originated in a report from the French Military Intelligence
Directorate, although no supporting evidence was provided.15 Yet the
assumption that Qatar was linked to Ansar Dine was a widespread one,
with an article on Fareed Zakaria’s CNN Global Public Square blog
152
noting, as early as August 2012, that “Ansar Dine is believed to be finan-
cially backed by Qatar,” although again without going into further
detail.16 Following the launch of French-led military operations against
the Islamist rebels in northern Mali in January 2013, the anti-Qatar
rhetoric emanating from French politicians across the political spectrum
increased still further. On the far Right, Marine Le Pen stated: “If Qatar
is objecting to France’s engagement in Mali it’s because intervention
risks destroying Doha’s most fundamentalist allies.”17 From the Left, the
leader of the ruling Socialist Party, Harlem Desir, was even more accusa-
tory as he publicly slammed “a form of indulgence” from Qatar, adding:
There is an attitude that is not cooperative and that can be considered as a form
of leniency toward the terrorist groups who occupied northern Mali. This atti-
tude coming from Qatar is not normal. We need a policy clarification from
Qatar who has always denied any role in funding terrorist groups. On the
diplomatic level, Qatar should adopt a much stronger, and firmer position
toward these groups who threaten the security of the Sahel region.18
â•… Comments such as these underscore the very different environment

of latent suspicion bordering on outright hostility that now faces Qatari
policy-makers. In the case of Mali, the allegations that “Qatari” interests
(whether state-backed or private) were funding or arming rebel groups
remain unsubstantiated. But what matters is that there is a significant
constituency both within the region and beyond that believe it might be
true, and in a world where perceptions often shape policy formulation
this negative association of Qatar with destabilising actors is very dam-
aging. In a context where Qatar has extended humanitarian assistance
and sent packages of food and medicine to conflict-afflicted regions in
northern Mali, even these actions become subject to misinterpretation
and rumour. In a post-Arab Spring world it will be difficult, if not
impossible, for Qatar to resume its pre-2011 peace-building or post-
conflict reconstruction and recovery activities without intense levels of
scrutiny. Moreover, the rapid deterioration of French-Qatari relations
illustrated the transient nature of personalised ties at the expense of
institutional depth to the bilateral relationship, as one French com-
mentator described how, “now that Francois Hollande has taken over
from Nicolas Sarkozy as president, there’s certainly more scepticism of
Qatari involvement in French affairs. That relationship … was once a
very personal one between Sarkozy and the Emir, but under Hollande
that has cooled.”19
153
Picking Winners
In large part, this newfound regional scepticism of Qatar’s motives stems
directly from the perception that Qatar has been picking winners across
the Middle East and North Africa. From Libya to Syria via Tunisia and
Egypt, the Qatari leadership was seen as developing particularly close
links to the Muslim Brotherhood and its local affiliates. When combined
with the long-standing presence within Qatar of Egyptian cleric Yusuf
al-Qaradawi and perceived partialities in Al Jazeera’s coverage of the Arab
upheaval, this placed Qatar at odds with neighbouring GCC states and
with many domestic groups in areas where Qatar has sought to intervene.
The wave of scepticism and suspicion around Qatar’s alleged intervention
in Mali again provides a case in point; even if there was no direct proof
of any links with armed Islamist groups such as Ansar Dine, such con-
nections would nonetheless have fallen into a pattern consistent with
Qatari support for Islamist militias in Libya and Syria.
â•… Qatar’s support for the Muslim Brotherhood was diametrically
opposed to regional responses to the Arab Spring in the other Gulf states.
As the initial uprisings of 2011 gave way to protracted, messy and
increasingly uncertain political transitions in 2012, the Muslim BrotherÂ�
hood replaced Iran as the bête noir of Gulf ruling elites. This remarkable
turn of events occurred as nervous rulers sought to externalise the root
causes of political dissent by ascribing them to the manipulative actions
of external powers. Although ruling elites were largely successful in
imputing Iran-linked sectarian motivations in Bahrain as a means of
weakening and splitting the surging opposition movement in 2011, this
became much harder in other instances where the majority of dissenters
were Sunni Arab members of the national population. Thus, as ruling
elites in Saudi Arabia and the UAE intensified their crackdown on local
supporters of Muslim Brotherhood affiliates, and as political protests by
the Sunni-led opposition in Kuwait surged, Qatar’s policy toward the
organisation became ever more of an outlier.
â•… Relations between Qatar and the UAE, in particular, diverged sharply.
The outspoken and controversial Lieutenant General of the Dubai Police
Force, Dhahi Khalfan, led the charge against the Brotherhood in the
UAE. In March 2012 he claimed, without providing any supporting
Â€
evidence that the group was planning to “take over” the Gulf monarchies:
“My sources say the next step is to make Gulf governments figurehead
bodies only without actual ruling. The start will be in Kuwait in 2013
154
and in other Gulf states in 2016.”20 Remarkably, Khalfan also suggested,
“they [the Muslim Brotherhood] are also secret soldiers for America and
they are executing plans to create tension.”21 Later in 2012, after a rapid
escalation of political demonstrations in Kuwait in October, the UAE
foreign minister, Sheikh Abdullah bin Zayed Al-Nahyan, denounced the
Brotherhood as “an organisation which encroaches upon the sovereignty
and integrity of nations” and called upon fellow ruling families in the
Gulf to join a coordinated crackdown on the group.22 Khalfan himself
returned to his favourite theme of bashing the Brotherhood in April
2013 when, seemingly without irony, he labelled them “dictators” and
added that “they want to change regimes that have been ruling for a long
time, but they also want to rule forever … We have evidence this group
was planning to overthrow rulers in the Gulf region.”23
â•… Once again, Khalfan provided no evidence to back up his allegations,
but authorities in the UAE rounded up ninety-four opposition and
human rights activists whom they accused of belonging to the Islamist
Jamiat Al-Islah wa Tawjih (Association for Reform and Guidance)
movement, and of conspiring against state security. After being detained
without charge for months, a mass trial began in Abu Dhabi in March
2013 on charges of coordinating with foreign groups and plotting to
seize power in the UAE. It ended with fifty-six defendants being sen-
Â€
tenced to jail terms of between three and ten years, with a further eight
being sentenced in absentia and twenty-six acquitted.24 The “UAE 94”
included many prominent figures from all seven emirates and some of
the largest and most influential tribal families, including senior civil
servants, judges, lawyers, and at least one member of the ruling family
of Ras Al-Khaimah. An atmosphere of secrecy and intimidation sur-
rounding the trial, which international human rights organisations and
independent observers were not permitted to attend, only reinforced the
seriousness with which the rulers of the UAE were taking the alleged
Brotherhood threat.25
â•… In this schizophrenic climate it was inevitable that Qatar and the
UAE should clash over domestic- and regional-level approaches to the
perceived Islamist threat in general, and the Muslim Brotherhood in
particular. Tensions boiled over in the spring of 2012 after the UAE
revoked the visas of a number of Syrians and began to return them to
the war-torn country. This followed an unlicensed protest against the
Assad regime outside the Syrian consulate in Dubai that drew some
155
2,000 people. The display of popular support for an Arab Spring-style
protest deeply unnerved the Emirati authorities who themselves were in
the process of stamping down on any signs of domestic unrest within
the UAE. Yusuf al-Qaradawi, the spiritual figurehead of the Muslim
Â€
Brotherhood, responded on his weekly Sharia and Life programme on

Al Jazeera, saying that “the Emiratis are humans like us, if they think
they are superior, they are wrong … They do not have rule over people
more powerful than the others.”26 These comments enraged Dhahi
Khalfan and prompted a diplomatic rift between the UAE and his
Qatari hosts. Khalfan responded by issuing an arrest warrant for al-
Qaradawi, whereupon the spokesperson for the Muslim Brotherhood in
Egypt warned the UAE that the whole Muslim world would rise in al-
Qaradawi’s defence if the warrant was ever carried out. Tempers flared
to the point where both the secretary-general of the GCC and the head
of the Arab League had to issue statements calling upon all sides to
exercise prudence and avoid making irresponsible and rash statements.
As the argument threatened to escalate into an inter-state dispute
between Egypt and the UAE with al-Qatar caught in the middle, Al
Jazeera made an editorial intervention, removing al-Qaradawi’s inflam-
matory remarks from repeat screenings of the show.27
â•… Although the dispute over al-Qaradawi coalesced into a policy dis-
agreement between officials in Abu Dhabi and Cairo, it nevertheless
highlighted the very different stance being taken by Qatar and Al Jazeera
toward the Muslim Brotherhood. As the Brotherhood made electoral
gains in Tunisia and Egypt that appeared to position the group as the
major beneficiary of the Arab Spring, so the attitudes toward it in other
GCC capitals hardened. During 2012, these divergent attitudes also
meshed with the backing of rival groups of Syrian rebel fighters by Qatar
and Saudi Arabia. The battle for influence among regional Islamists
waged by Doha and Riyadh undermined the search for a unified GCC
stance on major internal and external security issues. Thus, relations
between the individual GCC states came under sustained pressure as
officials from Saudi Arabia and the UAE discretely (and sometimes
openly) raised concerns about Qatar’s advocacy of the Muslim
Brotherhood abroad and the potential for domestic blowback within the
Gulf.28 The Gulf States Newsletter reported in May 2013 how “Qataris
close to the tight ruling circle have even been talking about UAE spy
cells supposedly busted this year (implying the possibility of UAE
156
attempts to engineer a coup) and the UAE and Qatar have detained
each other’s nationals.”29
â•… This environment of greater questioning and outright scepticism of
Qatari objectives also focused on Qatar’s myriad and intensifying invest-
ments in Egypt. These included a vague and never-defined $18 billion
five-year pledge made in 2012; a series of joint ventures and acquisitions
in the Egyptian financial sector; more than $8 billion in aid designed to
prop up the ailing Egyptian economy; a favourable gas-provision deal to
alleviate power shortages during the summer heat; an exemption for
Egyptian companies from Qatar’s system that regulates foreign compa-
nies from operating domestically; and an obscure agreement signed by
the Egyptian prosecutor-general on joint judicial and prosecutorial
cooperation and development with Qatar. Against this backdrop,
Egyptian writer Bassam Sabry noted, “Egyptians ostensibly have a right
to be suspicious. As very few things in life are free, it is natural to won-
der why, out of all possible reasons Qatar is putting all its might behind
Egypt, and seemingly the Brotherhood in particular?”30 The fact that
such questions were openly being raised in 2013 provided evidence of
the tougher climate facing Qatari policy-makers explaining their deci-
sion-making processes.
â•… In October 2012, a political spat in France demonstrated how the
perceived alignment of Qatar and the Muslim Brotherhood could strain
the international branding that Doha had so assiduously built up over
previous years. This arose in the wake of an announcement that Qatar
had pledged to create a fund to support business enterprises in France’s
underprivileged suburbs in response to a delegation of French local offi-
cials representing depressed areas who visited Qatar in November 2011.
Initial claims suggested that the fund would amount to €50 million and
that it would support first-time entrepreneurs with creative ideas but no
source of conventional financial backing. The fund was also seen as
targeting the Parisian suburbs, or banlieus, whose populations were pre-
dominantly Muslim in origin and largely from North Africa. Such
“benevolent” actions were intended to reinforce the “Qatar brand” as a
supporter of human development among Muslim communities across
the world.31
â•… The announcement of the Qatari fund attracted immediate contro-
versy and thus was shelved by President Nicolas Sarkozy in the run-up
to the French presidential election in May 2012. Following his defeat,
157
his successor, François Hollande, revived the plan in September, but
with a pledge of matching French investment to counter the mounting
concerns among French politicians at the plan. These partially revolved
around disquiet that an external actor should be involved in financing
public policy and in so doing intervening in domestic politics in such
an overt and sensitive manner. Such reliance on external funding left the
French government vulnerable to accusations that it was either incapable
or unwilling to tackle domestic economic challenges. Confusion over
Qatar’s motivations in creating the fund did not help, as the Qatari
ambassador to France appeared to follow a different line, stating vaguely
that the size of the fund would be “about 200 to 300 million Euros” and
announcing that Qatar planned to relocate some of the small and
medium-sized enterprises that benefited from the fund’s investments to
Doha. These remarks called into question the fund’s stated purpose of
investing in the French banlieus and added to a growing sense of drift
surrounding the plan.32
â•… As public and political unease in France deepened, it revolved increas-
ingly around concerns about Qatar’s motives in supporting France’s
largely disadvantaged and underprivileged Muslim communities. The
relationship between the government in Paris and the banlieus has been
characterised by tension and suspicion on both sides, which exploded
into weeks of violence across France in October 2005. Home to many
of France’s poorest and most marginalised communities, the post-2008
economic slowdown exacerbated the challenges posed by endemic
unemployment and under-employment and perceived inequalities in
opportunity open to inhabitants of the suburbs. Although some of the
concerns raised by left-wing French politicians concentrated on the pos-
sibility that reliance on external funding might merely increase the sense
of alienation from the French state, the most vocal opponents of the
plan came from right-wing politicians and civil society organisations
that raised concern about the choice of Qatar as a partner. Thus, anti-
immigrant and populist politicians attacked the project as a threat to
domestic security, pointing out that a significant proportion of France’s
Muslim communities would be targeted by the fund, and questioning
whether Qatar’s interventionist and pro-Muslim Brotherhood policies
in the Arab Spring might translate into undue leverage over French
Muslims of North African origin.
â•… Thus, while a local Parisian councillor in one of the underprivileged
suburbs welcomed the Qatari proposal by claiming “it’s a win-win situ-
158
ation. Because, if a local firm makes a profit and creates jobs, that means
more money for the investment fund, and for Qatar,” most other com-
mentators were far more circumspect.33 Somewhat predictably, Marine
Le Pen, the leader of the French far-right, claimed: “They are investing
massively in the suburbs because of the large proportion of Muslims
who live there. It’s suspicious because we are letting a foreign country
cherry-pick its investments based on the religion of this or that segment
of the population.”34 Politicians on the left also expressed reservations
albeit on very different grounds, arguing that the French government
should exercise caution when reaching agreements with a monarchy that
shared few, if any, republican and democratic ideals, and which could,
they suggested, “be seeking to buy influence due to France’s seat on the
United Nations Security Council.”35
â•… The furore that the proposed SME fund generated in France was
another sign of the newfound scepticism and greater scrutiny of Qatar’s
policy motivations. The very public calling into question of Qatari
objectives caused bewilderment among officials in Doha at the apparent
rejection of their largesse. Although the French political backlash did
not escalate into anything approaching the public humiliation of the
UAE in the United States after the Dubai Ports World affair in 2006, it
did serve as a warning shot across Qatar’s bows. No longer would altru-
istic motivations necessarily be ascribed to the country’s policies in the
wake of its activist and interventionist approach to the Arab Spring. In
a context where the exceptionally small circle of elite decision-makers
was not accustomed to having to explain or justify its policy choices in
public, this exposed glaring weaknesses in Qatar’s public diplomacy.
Thus, when Doha-based RUSI Qatar researcher Michael Stephens noted
that “2013 seems to be the year of open season on Qatar,” he identified
one source of the problem as being that “the Qatari policy elite sit dis-
tanced from the events they are controlling, often unaware of the turbu-
lent waters that swirl beneath … before you know it elites in the UAE
fear that Qatar is funding Muslim Brotherhood terrorist cells in Ras
al-Khaimah and half the world is convinced Qatar is spreading Jihadist
ideology in Mali.”36
Domestic Blowback
Given the Qatari leadership’s support of anti-authoritarian struggles in
North Africa and Syria, it was inevitable that greater attention would
159
sooner or later be paid to Qatari domestic politics. This carried a two-
fold challenge for officials in Doha. The first was that the discrepancy
between the support for popular uprisings and revolutionary activities
abroad and the lack of political pluralism or freedoms at home might
become too great to ignore or sustain. The second was that the accumu-
lation of “enemies” across the region as a result of Doha’s interventionist
stance might come back to bite should any signs of unrest develop
within Qatar itself. As the Qatari government’s support for and Al
Jazeera’s early coverage of the uprisings elsewhere depleted the regional
reservoir of goodwill toward Qatar, it was not hard to imagine the
schadenfreude with which regimes that have been on the receiving end of
criticism might react if problems were to develop in Qatar, or should
local advocates of reform emerge and be suppressed.37
â•… This has in fact already happened. In the summer of 2012, Ali Khalifa
Al-Kuwari, one of Qatar’s foremost academics, writers and thinkers, pub-
lished a manifesto entitled The People Want Reform…in Qatar, Too.
Printed in Beirut, the book contained eleven contributions from Qatari
writers and academics who wished to raise a “collective voice for reform
in Qatar” after they found the official means of making their views heard
to be inadequate. A long-standing and very prominent participant in
Gulf academic circles, Al-Kuwari had been organising monthly gatherings
of thinkers and intellectuals at his majlis in Doha since March 2011. The
manifesto that arose out of those meetings called for increased govern-
ment transparency, citizen involvement and democracy in Qatar, covering
topics from the constitution, the judiciary and the rule of law, the use of
earnings from gas exports, issues of identity, education, and the declining
role of Arabic, to the demographic imbalances and a critique of Qatar’s
freewheeling national development strategy. At the core of the manifesto’s
demands were the twin requirements for the government to open up for
reform and for Qatari citizens to participate in that process.38
â•… The publication of The People Want Reform generated a high level of
interest as it clashed with the perception held by many commentators
that Qatar was somehow shielded from calls for change. Already well
known among Gulf intellectual circles, Al-Kuwari became a key point
of contact for international organisations and media outlets wishing to
probe more deeply into Qatari domestic politics. In an interview with
the International Bar Association, Al-Kuwari claimed: “There is no
chance of reform if the current state of general freedoms continues as it
160
is, if transparency remains absent, and if public and private finance
affairs remain intertwined.”39 Al-Kuwari went much further in an exten-
sive interview with the German Heinrich Böll Stiftung in October
2012. He began by stating that “Qatar is an Arab country and whatever
happens in the region will find an echo here. The pro-democracy move-
ments in Tunisia, Egypt, and Yemen were a rallying-cry for us.” Al-Kuwari
went on to explain how, in Qatar:
There are four obstacles to reform: concealing and preventing the publishing of
information related to public affairs; a lack of transparency; the absence of
freedom of opinion and expression, and the absence of clearly-defined boundar-
ies between public and private interests and inadequate public administration
… Reform requires that the inhabitants of Qatar, government and people alike,
reach agreement over their agenda and the steps that lie ahead. This means
opening a dialogue to develop a common vision of the need for reform and the
best way to achieve it. The Monday Meetings began this process and we will
continue with it until it grows into a national discussion and the atmosphere is
conducive to full participation by the people and official parties.40
â•… Controversially, Al-Kuwari identified three major impediments to

reform in Qatar, as in the other Gulf states:
One, the concentration of vast oil revenues in the hands of the ruler to be dis-
bursed as he sees fit and used to purchase loyalty both at home and abroad;
Two, foreign protection of the regimes as long as they remain happy that the
ruler will continue to act in their interests;
Three, the relative decline in the number of citizens as a proportion of the total
population as a consequence of the support given to immigrant workers, who
neither share their interests nor feel that they are owed any political or social
rights by the autocratic ruler, leaving the ruler to govern a country, most of
whose population have no political rights and can be disbursed of whenever
he likes.41
Â€
â•… During the interview, Al-Kuwari also vented his anger at Al Jazeera,
criticising how “the network and Aljazeera.net calls itself a voice for the
voiceless, but only with the notable exception of Qataris who want to
speak their mind on issues affecting their country.”42 Indeed, despite Al
Jazeera’s much-vaunted international reputation, Qatar ranks only 110th
out of 179 countries on the Reporters without Borders Freedom Index.43
â•… Chapter Two’s section on the media in Qatar noted how neither Al
Jazeera nor Qatari outlets gave much coverage to the devastating fire at
the Villaggio Mall that killed nineteen people in May 2012. In late-
161
2012 and early-2013, a similar level of caution surrounded local report-
ing of the detention, trial and imprisonment of Qatari poet Mohammed
ibn al-Dheeb al-Ajami for a poem he published in January 2011 entitled
“Jasmine Revolution” (which included the line “We are all Tunisia in the
face of repressive coteries”), as well as for an earlier “poetic duel” with
another Qatari poet in June 2010, during which al-Ajami openly criti-
cised the top Qatari leadership, including the emir and his wife. After
footage of al-Ajami reciting the poems was uploaded on YouTube in the
summer of 2011, he was arrested in November and held in solitary
confinement for a year.44
â•… Amid rising international pressure from human rights organisations,
al-Ajami went on trial in November 2012. He was charged under Article
130 of Qatar’s penal code with “inciting the overthrow of the ruling
regime,” rather than the far less serious charge of criticising the emir, as
mandated by Article 134. When the trial began, Al-Ajami was repre-
sented by a former justice minister who had offered his services to
Saddam Hussein during his trial in 2005–6, demonstrating how his
plight had attracted powerful supporters within the Qatari elite. In
early-December 2012, after a five-minute hearing during which his
lawyer claimed that al-Ajami was neither present nor permitted to
respond to the prosecution’s claims, he was found guilty of trying to
overthrow the regime and sentenced to life imprisonment. Al-Ajami’s
lawyer, Najeeb Al-Nuaimi, subsequently told international reporters that
“the judge barred me from entering, or defending him,” and listed a
litany of supposed irregularities in the conduct of the trial. These
included delays in charging al-Ajami, holding him in extended solitary
confinement, appointing the investigating judge to oversee court hear-
ings, thereby allowing him to exert unprecedented influence on the
proceedings, holding the court hearing in secret, disallowing a verbal
defence, and tampering with court transcripts. Furthermore, the even-
tual two-line written judgement made no actual reference to any law
that al-Ajami had broken.45
â•… Human Rights Watch condemned both the verdict and the “grossly
unfair trial [that] flagrantly violates the right to free expression,” with its
deputy Middle East director, Joe Stork, stating that “Qatar, after all its
posturing as a supporter of freedom, turns out to be determined to keep
its citizens quiet … Ibn al-Dheeb’s alleged mockery of Qatar’s rulers can
hardly compare to the mockery this judgement makes of the country’s
162
posture as a regional centre for media freedom.”46 Damagingly for
Qatar’s regional and international reputation, local media outlets and Al
Jazeera gave very little coverage to al-Ajami’s case and sentencing. This
appeared to confirm the perception of many outside observers of a
double standard between Al Jazeera’s robust reporting of events outside
Qatar and its lack of coverage of domestic affairs. Escalating criticism of
the channel appeared to make an impact as it did eventually cover al-
Ajami’s appeal and the subsequent reduction of his sentence to fifteen
years in prison.47 Following the reduction in the jail sentence, al-Ajami’s
lawyer stated that the Qatari authorities “are trying to demonstrate to
the Qatari citizens that if anyone opens his mouth they will have the
same treatment.” His words of caution were borne out by remarkable
comments made by Qatar’s attorney general, who publicly stated that he
was “not happy” with the outcome of the appeal, and added, “as a chief
prosecutor, I look forward to restoring this sentence to a life term.”48
â•… The cases outlined above provide evidence that Qatari domestic poli-
tics is far from trouble-free. Further proof comes from polling done by
the Social and Economic Survey Research Institute (SESRI) of Qatar
University in 2012. Results included the startling findings that confi-
dence in basic state services had receded sharply from 2011 levels. Thus,
the percentage of Qataris “very confident” in the armed forces dropped
from 87 to 78 per cent, while confidence in the court system fell from
72 to 62 per cent and confidence in the Shura (consultative) Council
registered the largest single drop of any institution as it decreased from
65 to 54 per cent.49 Other findings in the June 2012 poll highlighted
the misgivings felt by many Qatari citizens about their leadership’s mul-
tifaceted interventions in the Arab Spring. When invited to name “the
most important problem Qatar faces today,” a staggering 70 per cent of
respondents mentioned Qatar’s external interventions, which were
blamed on “solving other countries’ problems,” “paying a lot of money
for other countries,” “[earning the] criticism of other countries,” and
“making new enemies.”50
â•… Declining public confidence in and support for the Qatari leadership
may explain the lack of follow-through to the emir’s promise in October
2011 that the country would hold its first national election in 2013.
This was announced with great fanfare eleven days after the death of
Gaddafi, when it seemed that anything was within Qatar’s power to
achieve. In flowery language that was full of self-congratulatory state-
163
ments but revealingly short on detail, the official news agency quoted
the emir as saying, “We must not only congratulate ourselves on our
achievements, but we have to check whether our visions and aspirations
are compatible with the expectations and hopes of our people.” Assuming
the role of a paternalistic figure addressing his people, the emir added:
“We know that all these steps are necessary to build the modern state of
Qatar and the Qatari citizen who is capable of dealing with the chal-
lenges of the time and building the country. We are confident that you
would be capable of shouldering the responsibility.”51
â•… The emir’s announcement of national elections was greeted with scep-
ticism by many in Qatar, who noted the lack of actual detail as to how
the process would unfold. Moreover, observers noted that there had been
little, if any, apparent consultation with domestic political or civil society
actors prior to the announcement itself.52 Instead, it seemed rather more
likely that the promise of elections was made in order to overcome
Qatar’s vulnerability to accusations that the country supporting political
and anti-authoritarian struggles abroad had no such freedoms at home.
Certainly, the pledge came at the height of Qatar’s apparent influence
and at a time when its star was at its height across the region. To the top
leadership, the fact that there was no concerted domestic pressure for
electoral reform doubtless increased its appeal as a safety valve that would
relieve potential external criticism at little internal cost.
â•… Eighteen months later, in the run-up to the June 2013 expiration of
the Consultative Council’s term, there had been no further announce-
ment either on the date of the national election or the mechanisms by
which it would be conducted. This was despite two op-eds being per-
mitted to appear in the same issue of The Peninsula, Qatar’s English-
language daily newspaper, on 23 May, both calling for the elections to
Â€
take place. The first article, entitled “High time for Shura Council
polls,” reminded the emir of his numerous promises of political reform,
going back to 1998, including remarks at the 59th UN General
Assembly meeting in September 2004 in which he said that “Political
reform and the participation of citizens in decision-making is no longer
an optional thing that we can take or leave, but a necessity.” The Qatari
author concluded by stating that:
I hope that the second half of this year witnesses Council elections. If this does
not happen, it is our right to ask who is responsible for delaying the fulfilment
of the wishes of the Emir, as expressed in his speeches. We will have the right
164
to ask about those responsible for delaying the fulfilment of the aspirations of
the Qatari people, aspirations voiced by the Emir.53
â•… The second op-ed, entitled “Citizens must be part of decision-mak-

ing,” argued that “our country and its leadership are negatively affected
by the absence of public participation” and added that:
Those opposing the idea of having a parliament are harming the stability of our
country by wanting to do away with a basic pillar of the constitution approved
by the citizens. Showing disrespect to one article of the constitution is disre-
spect to all the provisions of law, and it is just a matter of time before such
people show disrespect to the other articles of the statute and the nation’s will
… We only need citizens to be part of the decision-making process. This is
what we hope for. I expect this to happen during the second half of this year
under the leadership of our Emir.54
â•… Tellingly, both op-eds were published only in The Peninsula’s print
edition and were not made available online where they would have
attracted a wider international audience.55
â•… In the event, the emir’s handover of power to his son that same month
provided the pretext for the indefinite postponement of the planned
election, as one of Emir Hamad’s final actions in power was to issue a
decree (the day before he stepped down) extending the term of the
appointed council.56 The closed-circle nature of Qatari policy-making
makes it difficult to attest the reasons for the cooling of support for the
proposal. However, it is reasonable to suggest that as regional and inter-
national sentiment turned against Qatar, so the enthusiasm for major
new ventures was dampened down. Furthermore, numerous develop-
ments between October 2011 and June 2013 indicated a new direction
in policy-making that was more conservative and inward-focused, likely
a reaction to the aforementioned signs of increasing domestic unease
over Qatar’s external policies. Together, they reinforced the growing
evidence that the Qatari star may have peaked late in 2011, and was
entering a period of self-reflection and policy-readjustment.
Signs of Overreach
The first sign of overreach came almost immediately after the emir’s
promise of national elections in 2011. It came about as the Qatar
Distribution Company quietly confirmed that it was selling pork prod-
ucts to expatriates, who already held a license to purchase alcohol. Even
165
under these strict operating conditions, the news triggered a firestorm of
criticism among Qatari citizens who took to Twitter and other social
networking platforms to express their dismay. Worryingly for the
authorities, much of the anger focused on the dilution of Qatar’s values
and identity as an Arab and Muslim state, intersecting with other
sources of disquiet over the breakneck pace of development and the
trebling of the population in just five years. Thus, one Qatari user
tweeted in dismay that “I never thought the day would come that I have
to ask the waiter in a restaurant in Qatar what kind of meat is in their
burgers.” Another Qatari user added that “It’s not about the pork—it’s
about us feeling more & more like a minority—in our own country,”
while a third angrily asked the Qatari authorities why “you are okay
with #porkinQatar BUT not ok with some tribes in Qatar and not ok
with kids from non-Qatari father & not ok with bedoon!”57 Other
Qataris tried to organise an online campaign to boycott Qatar Airways,
the parent company of the Qatar Distribution Company, on the
grounds that “allowing the company to sell pork could make engaging
in haram [forbidden] business practices ‘a normal situation’ that cannot
be disputed or resisted by the people.”58
â•… This episode was quickly followed by a sudden and unexpected deci-
sion to ban the sale of alcohol at the clubs and restaurants on the flag-
ship new Pearl island luxury development just outside of Doha. The
Pearl was conceived by the United Development Company as an off-
shore mixed-use residential and commercial area, targeting high-end
expatriate residents and leading international restaurant chains. As the
Pearl grew in popularity, the restaurants and bars expanded to include
outside drinking areas on verandas and promenades, and the consump-
tion of alcohol became more public and visible to passers-by. Rumours
that Qataris wearing national dress had been seen drinking at the Pearl’s
establishments, and that a young Qatari had crashed his car after drink-
ing too much, added to rising concerns that the sanctioning of alcohol
was spiralling out of control. In consequence, the Pearl was stripped of
its liquor license overnight in December 2011, to the surprise and dis-
may of diners who would often make a special trip to the Pearl simply
to be able to enjoy a drink with their meal.59
â•… The decision angered the bar and restaurant chains that had been
enticed in large part by the Pearl’s alcohol-friendly business model, and
a number subsequently closed as sales plummeted by up to fifty per
166
cent. They included British celebrity chef Gordon Ramsay, who closed
his Maze restaurant just three months later, in March 2012, and criti-
cised the arbitrary ban, which he called a “turn-off for any local.” The
three-Michelin starred chef added that “We had to make sensible com-
mercial decisions—you’re not going to run that restaurant and look
stupid and lose thousands on a weekly basis.” Tellingly, in light of scepti-
cism that Qatar would be able to host tens of thousands of international
football fans during the 2022 FIFA World Cup, Ramsay pointed out:
“If that’s their culture and it’s being governed by the ministers then I’m
sure that will be out for scrutiny and change. But the world is moving
fast and once the World Cup is nearing I’m sure things will change. I
can’t see that legislation lasting much longer.”60
â•… Together, the furore over the availability of pork and alcohol exposed
the fault-lines running underneath the veneer of Qatar’s international
image. Many Qataris felt a degree of unease at the “Westernisation” of
social norms and the implied dilution of their Islamic values and Arab
identity. Similar fears had been voiced by Emiratis living in Dubai at the
height of the pre-2008 economic boom, as in both instances the global-
ising aspirations of the leadership triggered a defensive backlash among
many nationals who felt they had not been consulted over the direction
or pace of change. In Doha as in Dubai, it became apparent that there
was scant sign of public support for the development programmes and
demographic imbalances that were dominant features of each cityscape.61
â•… Ostensibly in order to relieve such pressures from building up further,
the Supreme Education Council (run by Sheikh Tamim), issued a decree
stipulating that Arabic would replace English as the official language of
undergraduate education at the state-run Qatar University. Once again,
this was a sudden announcement described by university academics as a
“bombshell,” as it went against Qatar University’s attempts to transform
itself into an internationally competitive institution of teaching and
research. One unnamed academic was cited as stating that the decision
had been made without discussion by the board of the university, and
that it “turns around a decade of reforms in a moment … it also goes
directly against the stated ambition of creating a knowledge economy.”62
The decision appeared to be a populist attempt to respond to accusa-
tions that the English-language requirement discriminated against
Qataris at the expense of non-Qatari students, and followed a “series of
scathing editorials in a local Arabic daily” on the subject.63 Another (also
167
unnamed) observer commented, “the decision came from on high—just
like the last-minute decision in 2004 which turned Qatar University
into an English-medium university. It [the decree] was the result of
years-long complaints from parents and students who say their children
are denied the chance of a university education.”64 Simultaneously, a
new ruling on “university etiquette” was unveiled, intended to “check
the encroachment of Western dress and public behaviour” on the Qatar
University campus, proscribing “fad hair styles” and “unconventional
cuts” among other things.65
â•… The abovementioned cases illustrate the tensions that lie at the core
of the Qatari dilemma. Qatar’s rapid internationalisation imprinted the
country on the global consciousness as an innovative regional actor that
seemingly did things differently from neighbouring states. The success
of this strategy resulted in signal achievements, such as the right to host
the 2022 FIFA World Cup, Al Jazeera’s breakthrough as a global media
icon, and the enticing of prestigious international brands to Qatar.
Initial responses to the Arab Spring appeared to confirm and seal the rise
of Qatar as a regional power with international reach, and positioned
the state powerfully “on the right side of history” in Libya and initially
in Syria and Yemen. Further initiatives, such as the hosting of the 2012
United Nations Climate Change Conference and the effort to rally the
international community for a second regional intervention (in Syria),
occurred at the height of Qatar’s perceived influence at the end of 2011,
as did the eye-catching promise of national elections. As the country
became a more cosmopolitan destination, it started to attract a highly
qualified expatriate class that was accustomed to very different forms of
behaviour that challenged local social and cultural norms.
â•… Problems arose once the balance of domestic opinion reacted to the
cosmopolitan side effects of these global aspirations and when the tide
of regional and international opinion began to turn against Qatar.
Caught in the glare of a global community curious to know more about
the upstart new entrant on the international scene, closer inspection
exposed the brittleness of Qatar’s apparent transformation. Decision-
making remained opaque and highly concentrated among key individu-
als, rather than institutionalised through participatory mechanisms, and
was prone to sudden policy reversals, as evidenced by the banning of
alcohol and the switch from English to Arabic at Qatar University.
Moreover, the residual trappings of autocracy undermined the rhetoric
168
emanating from Qatar’s leaders when they declared their support for
citizen struggles against authoritarian leaders elsewhere. The criticism
directed against Qatar’s alleged and unproven links to Malian rebel
groups served as a warning that the external environment was becoming
far less accommodating or receptive to Qatari initiatives as it once was.
Furthermore, the arrest and detention without charge for one month of
two Qatari activists simply for delivering a letter to the French Embassy
in Doha criticising the French intervention in Mali illustrates the inher-
ent tensions in Qatar’s “liberalised autocracy.”66
â•… Perhaps most damagingly for the Qatari leadership’s self-defined role
as an international mediator and peace-builder was the loss of the pre-
sumption of impartiality. Qatar’s interventionist policies in the Arab
Spring generated significant resistance across the region. While the ris-
ing levels of mistrust have not translated into any overt blowback aimed
against Qatar itself, they stripped away one of the pillars of Qatar’s pre-
2011 success. The adage that a reputation takes years to build and sec-
onds to destroy is pertinent here as it will not be easy for future Qatari
leaders to convince regional and international sceptics of their benign
motivations. Rather than constituting the capstone of Qatar’s ascent as
a regional power, the shift in emphasis from diplomatic mediation and
peace-building to foreign policy activism has underscored the limita-
tions of Qatari power, and focused attention onto the lack of institu-
tional depth underpinning the hyperactive personalisation of Qatari
policy-making.
â•… Two final questions remain unanswered, and perhaps unanswerable,
for the time being. The first concerns the sustainability of Qatar’s
highly personalised decision-making structures. There is little evidence
to suggest that the Qatar of Emir Tamim will be as interventionist as
that of his father and HBJ.67 As the Epilogue to this book makes clear,
Emir Tamim will likely be more conservative than his father and reori-
ent the focus of policy to domestic issues. Even as heir apparent, as
noted in Chapter Three, Tamim was the architect of populist policies
such as the September 2011 pay-and-pensions increase and the greater
emphasis on Qatar’s Arab identity and Islamic roots. With the giant
new Imam Muhammad ibn Abdul Wahhab Mosque having opened its
doors in December 2011, it is likely that Qatari domestic politics will
move toward appeasing key stakeholders in society. Significantly, the
Qatar News Agency stated that the decision to name the country’s
169
“state mosque” after the founder of Wahhabism was made “in reflection
of the State of Qatar’s intention to revive the nation’s symbols and its
cultural values.”68
â•… However, this will run into difficulty owing to the path-dependency
of decisions that have already been taken. Chief among these is the
decade of development that lies ahead of the 2022 FIFA World Cup.
The enormous infrastructure and investment going into the preparations
for the month-long event will require further sources of expatriate
labour that will exacerbate Qatar’s imbalanced and politically sensitive
demographic pyramid. Additionally, the ban on the consumption of
alcohol in public places is incompatible with FIFA requirements on host
cities. Accordingly, it may result in a highly charged showdown with
football’s international governing body or with conservative elements
within Qatari society. FIFA has already created friction in the 2014
World Cup host nation Brazil by riding roughshod over a Brazilian ban
on serving alcohol inside sporting venues, with General-Secretary
Jerome Valcke stating bluntly, “Alcoholic drinks are part of the FIFA
World Cup, so we’re going to have them. Excuse me if I sound a bit
arrogant, but that’s something we won’t negotiate. The fact that we have
the right to sell beer has to be a part of the law.”69
â•… This suggests that the interaction between globalising forces and local-
ised responses will be contested rather than consensual in years to come.
As the FIFA World Cup looms more sharply into view, the policy choices
may well become sharper and more controversial. There is a danger that
the World Cup may bind Qatar as a hostage to fortune if the event
preparations exacerbate and widen existing societal cleavages. If this is
the case, then Qatar’s signal achievement—which got the whole world
talking in amazement about the country—could yet prove its biggest
liability. Already (as will be discussed in the Epilogue), the issue of
migrant workers has become a source of controversy that has damaged
the Qatari brand and opened up the country to international criticism.
â•… The second major question for Qatar going forward is the durability
of its relationship with the Muslim Brotherhood. In addition to driving
a wedge between Qatar and its GCC neighbours, the perceived align-
ment with the Brotherhood in Syria and North Africa has exposed Qatar
to external pressures it cannot hope to control. As the Brotherhood mis-
managed the task of governing in Egypt and Tunisia and became discred-
ited in the eyes of many across the region for its decidedly non-demo-
170
cratic form of majoritarian rule, Qatar’s attempt to “pick winners”
associated with the organisation became more questionable. The specific
challenge of trying to repair relations with the post-Brotherhood Saudi
and Emirati-backed military government in Egypt will be addressed in
the Epilogue, but even before the defenestration of Mohamed Morsi on
3 July 2013, it was clear that alignment with the Muslim Brotherhood
Â€
was becoming more of a liability than an asset. Here the question for
Qatar’s new rulers is whether (and how successfully) they can extricate
themselves from a failed bet of the highest magnitude.
â•… If the unprecedented turmoil that has unfolded across the Middle
East and North Africa since December 2010 has indicated one thing, it
is that the region is undergoing a period of profound but uncertain
change. The counter-revolutionary turn of 2013 illustrated how vested
political and economic interests proved far harder to dislodge than the
“presidents for life” who toppled in quick succession in 2011, while the
revolutionary momentum dissipated in the failure of the successor gov-
ernments to deliver quick or lasting improvements in daily life.
International politics can be a dirty game at the best of times and the
pendulum may yet swing back in favour of rapid change, but against the
backdrop of the reversion to the status quo ante in North Africa and the
continuing violence in Syria, the familiar refrain that Qatar has been
“punching above its weight” looks instead as if the country has “bitten
off more than it can chew.”
171
EPILOGUE
QATAR UNDER EMIR TAMIM
Two momentous developments occurred within the space of a week in

mid-2013 that transformed Qatar’s domestic politics and the regional
environment around it. While Sheikh Tamim bin Hamad Al-Thani’s
accession to emir on 25 June had been anticipated in Qatar for several
Â€
months, the mass mobilisation of Egyptian demonstrators against

Mohamed Morsi that culminated in the removal of the Muslim
Brotherhood from power on 3 July effectively sounded the death-knell
Â€
for the post-2011 phase of the Arab Spring. With no consensual politi-
cal order emerging and instability worsening in the transition states of
Tunisia, Egypt, Libya and Yemen (to say nothing of Syria), the conta-
gious revolutionary fervour that swept the Arab world in 2011 had all
but disappeared by 2013. It was replaced by the reassertion of authori-
tarianism and the eclipse of political Islamism, and underpinned by
substantial political and financial support from Qatar’s Gulf neighbours
Saudi Arabia, the United Arab Emirates (UAE) and Kuwait.
â•… Although no direct evidence has yet surfaced to link President Morsi’s
downfall with the departure of Emir Hamad bin Khalifa Al-Thani and
Prime Minister Hamad bin Jassim Al-Thani, the loss of the Muslim
Brotherhood’s most prominent regional backers was felt hard in Cairo.
Equally consequential was the impact on Qatar’s regional and foreign
policy of Egypt’s return to a military-led status quo ante. The rollback
of the Arab uprisings in North Africa signified major setbacks to Qatar’s
regional objectives, presenting the new emir with the immediate foreign
173
policy challenge of resetting the country’s hitherto strong support for the
Muslim Brotherhood. For a variety of reasons, as outlined below, the
direction of Qatari policy-making under Emir Tamim is likely to be
more introspective than before, and not only because the two architects
of Qatar’s aggressive internationalisation strategy have left the stage.
Rather, a period of domestic consolidation is likely as a new generation
of younger leaders take office and turn their attention to a set of bur-
geoning socio-economic challenges that will unfold in a far more diffi-
cult regional context than hitherto.
Transition in Qatar
Doha had for months been rife with speculation about a leadership
transition. As noted in earlier chapters, Emir Hamad had transferred
most day-to-day authority to his favoured second wife, Sheikha Mozah
bint Nasser Al-Missned, and his heir apparent, Sheikh Tamim, entrust-
ing them with key organisational and institutional duties. In 2008,
Tamim was entrusted with overseeing the Qatar National Vision 2030,
and he assumed the leadership of the Qatar 2022 Supreme Committee
in charge of preparing for the FIFA World Cup. Tamim was thus in
charge of medium- and long-term policy-planning in Qatar for several
years prior to becoming emir, in much the same way that his father
accumulated de facto power in the early-1990s before his own accession
to the leadership in 1995. During his father’s final months in power,
Tamim’s rising prominence extended to the regional domain. On a for-
mal level, he represented Emir Hamad at the annual Gulf Cooperation
Council Summit in Bahrain in December 2012 and in welcoming del-
egates to the Arab League Summit in Doha in March 2013, as well as
hosting visiting dignitaries such as US Secretary of State John Kerry, UK
Foreign Secretary William Hague, and Prince Charles.1
â•… Weeks of speculation ended on 24 June when Emir Hamad announÂ�
Â€
ced that he was to step down and pass power to his son, the thirty-three-
year old Tamim. In a speech to the nation the following day, the outgo-
ing emir explained that, “I had not desired power for the sake of power
nor endeavored to rule for personal motives,” and added that “The time
has come to open a new page in the journey of our nation that would
have a new generation carry the responsibilities with their innovative
ideas and active energies.”2 Although the formal handover marked the
174
Epilogue: Qatar Under Emir Tamim
endpoint in a carefully planned and choreographed process, the volun-
tary change of leadership was nevertheless unprecedented in the modern
history of the Gulf states, including Qatar. It confirmed Qatar as the
regional maverick within the GCC where the new emir was more than
thirty years younger than his closest peer (King Hamad of Bahrain) and
separated by nearly six decades from King Abdullah of Saudi Arabia.
From a public relations perspective also, the decision to accelerate a
political transition from an aging leadership to a youthful generation
resonated powerfully with the tenor of the Arab Spring that Qatar had
done so much to support.3
â•… Emir Tamim replaced HBJ and promptly divided his multiple
responsibilities (as prime minister, foreign minister, and vice-chairman
and chief executive of the Qatar Investment Authority) among four
successors. In addition to naming the former minister of state for inter-
nal affairs, Sheikh Abdullah bin Nasser Al-Thani, as prime minister,
Tamim promoted HBJ’s former deputy, Khalid Al-Attiyah, to foreign
minister, thereby appointing a non-ruling family member to one of the
“sovereign ministries” for the first time. Al-Attiyah had been minister of
state for foreign affairs since 2011 and had emerged as the point-man
within the foreign ministry for Qatar’s support of opposition fighters in
Syria. A week later, on 2 July, Tamim issued an Emiri decree replacing
Â€
HBJ at the Qatar Investment Authority. Ahmad Mohamed Al-Sayed

(previously the managing director of Qatar Holding and an influential
figure in the Qatari financial world) was named chief executive while
Tamim’s half-brother, Sheikh Abdullah bin Hamad Al-Thani, became
vice-chairman of the Board of Directors.4 Moreover, the following
weeks and months witnessed what some observes described as a “mass
cull” of “HBJ allies” from government ministries and state bodies, and
particularly from the foreign ministry itself.5
â•… It will be difficult, if not impossible, for HBJ’s successors to replicate
his intensely personal style of decision-making and vast range of con-
tacts built up over two decades, but his departure from office facilitated
efforts by the new leadership to rebalance governing structures and make
them more sustainable. The spreading of duties among HBJ’s successors
widened the tiny apex of decision-making in Doha that had hitherto
facilitated the mobilisation of different parts of the state apparatus in
pursuit of a common objective. It also went some way toward addressing
the negative perception that had arisen across the Middle East that
175
Qatar was engaged in “buying influence” in transition states through its
overt combination of diplomacy and investment. Previous chapters in
this book described how foreign policy-making under HBJ often was
predicated on heavy Qatari investment (or pledges of investment) in
target countries. Economist and regional analyst Sami Nader argued
that the division of responsibilities under Emir Tamim represented “a
consecration of the separation of politics from economy and a comple-
mentary step to the process of a transfer of powers,” noting that Tamim
himself had called for a rationalisation of investment policies in his
inaugural address as emir.6
Era of Consolidation
Domestic policies are likely to take priority over foreign policy for Emir
Tamim as he settles into his rule. Indeed, his inaugural address on
26 June focused primarily on domestic affairs, although it indicated also
Â€
that Qatar would continue to pursue its regional policy objectives albeit
in a lower-key and less confrontational manner than under HBJ. The Â€
choice of Sheikh Abdullah bin Nasser Al-Thani as interior minister as

well as prime minister was revealing; like HBJ, he was entrusted with
two portfolios but with the Interior Ministry replacing the Foreign
Ministry as the second. High spending and changing energy markets
present immediate short- and medium-term challenges for the new gov-
ernment, as do the continuing high levels of inward migration and the
soaring cost of living in Doha, to say nothing of the additional strain on
already-overstretched healthcare and water supply systems and the trans-
portation network. The population of Qatar exceeded the two million
mark in September 2013 and will rise further as preparations for the
FIFA 2022 World Cup begin in earnest, with the Qatar National Bank
(QNB) predicting an annual growth rate of 10.5 per cent in 2014.7 As
the new arrivals push up rents and contribute to worsening congestion
on Qatar’s roads, it is probable that dissatisfaction with public services
will mount, at least in the short term, before improvements to infra-
structure are completed.
â•… Ensuring fiscal sustainability will be a key challenge for the new gov-
ernment in the decade to 2022. With exports of LNG having plateaued
in 2010 and the price of oil widely predicted to soften (admittedly from
high levels), government revenues are unlikely to grow substantially. Yet
capital and current spending will be far harder to bring under control as
176
major World Cup-related and other “mega-projects” are commissioned,
particularly if the emir announces any further public sector salary
increases to augment the 60 per cent boost of 2011. As of mid-2013, the
Qatari government has plans to spend more than $140 billion over the
next five years on transport projects and a further $200 billion on infra-
structure and urban (re)development over ten years.8 Activity is forecast
to peak between 2015 and 2018 but challenges have already been
encountered, with poor management and late payment of contractors
deterring foreign investment and causing some major firms to consider
pulling out of Qatar altogether. A case in point is the much-delayed
Hamad International Airport, originally scheduled to open in 2009 but
subjected to repeated pushbacks, and mired in an unseemly blame game
at the International Court of Arbitration in Paris.9
â•… Qatar’s large-scale gas reserves and still-tiny citizen population does
afford a considerable degree of breathing-space that its Gulf neighbours
do not enjoy. Unlike Bahrain or Oman, there is no imminent danger of
resource depletion, while the resulting revenues neither have to be
spread across a large national population as in Saudi Arabia nor sub-
jected to political wrangling as in Kuwait. These are all comparative
advantages that will continue to mark out Qatar as distinct from its
regional peers. Moreover, the accumulated reserves that Qatar has built
up over the decade of post-2002 high oil prices will enable the economy
to withstand several years of budget deficits should prices fall and remain
low. Government spending more than doubled between 2008 and 2012
but was covered as government revenues increased at almost the same
rate, but both spending and revenue are projected to decline slightly in
2013. The challenge for Qatar’s new ruler is to inject a degree of fiscal
sustainability into government spending plans to ensure that expendi-
ture does not soar above revenues if the latter fail to keep pace. Yet with
all the mega-projects and World Cup-related development there is a
danger that a budget imbalance will open up unless ministries and enti-
ties, such as the Qatar Foundation, can rationalise short- and medium-
term objectives and plans. By September 2013, the top leadership at the
Qatar Foundation had already been changed amid speculation that the
organisation was in some financial difficulty.10
â•… Officials in Qatar will also need to develop robust communications
channels and public diplomacy skills to meet greater international scru-
tiny of domestic affairs. This increased interest in the country is a corol-
lary both of Qatar’s rapid internationalisation and its Arab Spring poli-
177
cies, and world attention on Qatar is only going to increase as the World
Cup draws nearer. The furor over the condition of migrant workers that
erupted in the British media in the autumn of 2013 provided an early
foretaste of the trial by hostile media that awaits all host cities of major
sporting events. Front page headlines in The Guardian newspaper inves-
tigated the deaths of forty-four Nepalese labourers from heart failure or
workplace accidents on Qatari construction sites and publicised claims
by the International Trade Union Confederation (ITUC) that World
Cup preparations could “cost the lives of at least 4,000 migrant workers
before a ball is kicked.”11 Further articles followed with lurid titles such
as “Revealed: Qatar’s World Cup ‘Slaves’,” “Qatar’s World Cup ‘Slaves’:
the Official Response,” “Qatar: the Building Site from Hell,” and
“Qatar’s World Cup ‘Slaves’: FIFA’s UK Representative ‘Appalled and
Disturbed’.” The issue was discussed at an emergency meeting of FIFA’s
Executive Committee in Zurich and followed up by a personal meeting
between Emir Tamim and FIFA President Sepp Blatter.12
â•… However, the arrest and detention of two German journalists for
filming workers on a nearby construction site from the balcony of their
Doha hotel highlighted the challenges that may lie ahead in adapting to
and accommodating greater public interest and media attention.13
Additional news stories in the following months drew widespread atten-
tion to reports of the soaring numbers of deaths among migrant work-
ers, leaving the Qatari authorities struggling to keep up with the sus-
tained level of media interest in the issue.14 While this may sound
surprising for a country that, like Dubai, has thrived on generating
high-impact newsworthy stories, the capacity to acknowledge and toler-
ate legitimate concern and criticism is an area where all GCC states have
to date shown serious shortcomings. Moreover, the path-dependency of
the decision to see the hosting rights of the 2022 World Cup means that
the new leadership in Qatar will have to deal with the fall-out from each
new revelation in the full glare of the international media spotlight. It
will not be easy to shift the narrative away from an issue that large sec-
tions of the press have identified as the major public and human interest
story surrounding the 2022 World Cup.
Recalibrating Foreign Policy

Tamim’s abovementioned inaugural address as emir on 26 June indi-
Â€
cated that Qatar would continue to pursue its regional policy objectives
178
albeit in a lower-key and less confrontational manner than under
HBJ. He did not make any mention of Syria but did emphasise Qatar’s
Â€
role in the GCC. This portended the mending of damaged GCC rela-
Â€
tionships with Saudi Arabia, in particular, and built upon the Saudi-
Qatari decision in spring 2013 to shift regional leadership on Syria from
Doha to Riyadh. Tamim also sought to reassure sceptical regional allies
and international partners that Qatar was “not affiliated with one trend
against the other,” adding “we reject dividing Arab societies on a sectar-
ian or doctrinal basis.” This was a signal that while Doha intends to
maintain its autonomy in foreign policy-making, it will do so in a more
cooperative and multilateral approach that is also less overtly ideological
than before.15
â•… These early remarks indicated that greater emphasis on multilateral
coordination would replace the confrontational unilateralism that came
to be associated with Qatar’s post-2011 Arab Spring policies. Emir
Tamim subsequently used his first major speech on international affairs
at the annual meeting of the UN General Assembly in New York in
September 2013 to lay out the future of Qatar’s regional policies. In
calling for structural reform of the UN Security Council to better deal
with conflict situations while also reaffirming that Qatar will remain
active in international diplomacy, he appeared to suggest a reset of policy
to its pre-2011 parameters. Thus, he stated that “the State of Qatar aims
to be a hub for dialogue and discussion among different parties to con-
flict and not be a party in these conflicts,” while he acknowledged that
“it is clear that the Arab world will not revert back to the way it was
before and that the Arab people are more aware of their rights and more
involved in the public domain.”16
â•… In the months since Tamim’s accession, two instances of Qatari
mediation took place in Egypt and Syria. Both were small in scale com-
pared with their pre-2011 counterparts but nonetheless represented an
attempt to re-establish Qatar as a go-to mediator. In early-August 2013,
the foreign ministers of Qatar and the UAE joined with senior US sena-
tors John McCain and Lindsay Graham to seek a negotiated settlement
to the escalating confrontation between the Egyptian military and mem-
bers of the ousted Muslim Brotherhood. The involvement of the Emirati
and Qatari foreign ministers was revealing as the two states enjoyed
arguably the closest relations with the respective disputant parties. The
trilateral US-led attempt to mediate a solution to Egypt’s worsening
179
political crisis provided evidence of the new Qatari approach to regional
policy. Although the initiative was unsuccessful, the attempt to leverage
Qatari influence in a coordinated and multilateral approach with
regional and international partners was very different from the unilater-
alism associated with HBJ and the former emir.17 Two months later,
Qatar was again involved in a multilateral effort alongside Lebanese,
Turkish, Syrian and Palestinian interlocutors as they negotiated a com-
plex three-way prisoner exchange agreement in Syria. Symbolically, the
two Turkish pilots who had been held hostage in Lebanon were returned
to a triumphant reception in Turkey, attended by Prime Minister
Erdogan himself, aboard a Qatar Airways plane at the successful conclu-
sion of the months-long mediation process.18
â•… Yet, developments in Egypt in the weeks and months after the 3 July
Â€
2013 “coup” against President Morsi indicate the scale of the rehabilita-
tion challenge facing Qatar’s new leadership. The defenestration of the
Muslim Brotherhood-led government in Cairo just a week after the
change of emir plunged Doha into crisis-limitation mode and required
the new leadership to distance himself from the contentious policies of
its predecessor. It was noteworthy that Tamim sent a message of con-
gratulations, albeit belatedly, to Egypt’s interim military government.
The emir’s statement made no reference to ousted President Morsi in an
attempt to salvage Qatari prestige in the wake of a radical shift in
regional power-relations, instead praising the military for “defending
Egypt and its national interests” and insisting that Qatar had always
supported the Egyptian people rather than any particular group.19
However, it was then noteworthy how, after having backed the Muslim
Brotherhood-led government in Cairo with generous financial assis-
tance, Qatar was absent from the $12 billion financial and fuel aid pack-
ages that Saudi Arabia, Kuwait and the United Arab Emirates extended
to the interim government dominated by the chairman of the Supreme
Council of the Armed Forces, Abdel Fattah al-Sisi.
â•… The speed with which Qatar’s GCC neighbours backed the restora-
tion of military rule in Egypt with direct budgetary support, shipments
of fuel products, and large amounts of bilateral aid spoke volumes.
Having largely succeeded in containing the political upheaval at home,
the conservative Gulf states rapidly deployed their financial largesse and
political support in Egypt. With the toppling of the Muslim Brotherhood
government in Cairo effectively signaling the end of the Arab Spring, at
180
least in its initial post-2011 phase, Saudi and Emirati officials moved
quickly to seize the regional initiative away from Qatar. With the
Muslim Brotherhood-led government in Tunisia also coming under
mounting domestic pressure culminating in its decision to stand down
in September 2013, the opportunity arose for the region’s “counter-
revolutionary” powers to roll back the electoral and participatory gains
of the Arab Spring.20 It should not be implied from the foregoing that
post-Morsi Egypt is necessarily more stable or “better off” than it was
before, or that the Saudi and Emirati “bets” on the military are likely to
be any more sustainable than Qatar’s support for the Muslim BrotherÂ�
hood. Rather, it is to make the point that as it settles into power, the
new government in Doha must navigate a “post-Arab Spring” regional
landscape that is almost diametrically opposed to the propitious conver-
gence of Qatari interests and the revolutionary upheaval in North Africa
in 2011.
â•… Instances of pushback, whether in direct retribution for Qatar’s
actions in Egypt or merely part of the post-coup backlash against the
ousted regime, have multiplied. The March 2014 decision by Saudi
Arabia, the United Arab Emirates, and Bahrain to withdraw their
Ambassadors from Doha in the name of ‘security and stability,’ and to
accuse Qatar of breaching a GCC security agreement signed in Riyadh
in November 2013 stipulating ‘non-interference’ in the ‘internal affairs
of any of the other GCC countries,’ was the most serious and visible
manifestation of the tensions bubbling underneath the surface of Gulf
politics, although they had in fact been brewing for months.21 The deci-
sion—which amounted to the most serious rift in intra-GCC relations
since the Saudi-Qatari skirmishes and Qatari-Bahraini tensions in the
mid-1990s that were catalogued in Chapter One—reflected the deep
and continuing anger felt in Riyadh and Abu Dhabi (in particular) over
Qatar’s Arab Spring policies, and the tangled legacy facing Emir Tamim
and his new foreign policy team in Doha as they seek to rebuild dam-
aged regional relationships and regain the trust and confidence of their
GCC partners.22
â•… Certainly, both the abovementioned November 2013 security agree-
ment and the simmering Saudi, Bahraini, and Emirati anger with Doha
was grounded in evidence that Qatar was continuing to give some form
of post-coup assistance to members of the Muslim Brotherhood. In
early-November 2013, just weeks before King Abdullah of Saudi Arabia
181
summoned Emir Tamim to Riyadh for emergency consultation on
regional security issues (mediated by the Emir of Kuwait), the
Washington Post reported in early-November that ‘an exile leadership is
starting to take shape here among the shimmering high-rises of Doha.’
Moreover, the Post alleged further that several of the Brotherhood exiles
were, in fact, being accommodated at Al Jazeera’s expenses in Doha
hotels, and added that ‘it is in those suites and hotel lobbies that the
future of Egypt’s Muslim Brotherhood and, more broadly, the strategy
and ideology of political Islam in the country may well be charted.’23 At
the hastily-arranged trilateral meeting between Emir Tamim, King
Abdullah, and Emir Sabah in Riyadh later that month, Gulf media
reports indicated that Tamim was (in the words of Dubai-based Gulf
News) ‘told to change Qatar’s ways and bring the country in line with
the rest of the GCC with regards to regional issues.’ Moreover, the
reports further suggested that Tamim had signed a pledge of compliance
and requested six months in which to do so, citing the need to clear
away ‘obstacles from remnants of the previous regime.’24
â•… Such differences in approach indicate how Egypt has developed into
the barometer of post-Arab Spring politics in the Middle East, and
Qatar’s strained relationships with its Gulf neighbours have become a
microcosm for the broader tensions between status quo advocates and
supporters of political change across the region. In the months following
the July 2013 coup in Egypt, Al Jazeera’s offices in Cairo were targeted
and ransacked, and journalists working for Al Jazeera English were
detained and deported for allegedly working without permission, while
in February 2014 amid an international outcry at their treatment, three
Al Jazeera journalists appeared in a Cairo court accused of spreading
false news and having links to a “terrorist organisation.”25 Meanwhile in
early-September 2013, an Egyptian court ordered the closure of the
channel’s Egyptian affiliate, Al Jazeera Mubasher Misr, calling it a
national threat and accusing it of spreading rumours after it gave exten-
sive coverage to Muslim Brotherhood protests against the government
crackdown on the organisation.26
â•… The bitterness even extended into the sporting arena, as the Egyptian
Television Network violated Al Jazeera Sport’s rights to broadcast 2014
World Cup qualifying matches by televising Egypt’s 6–1 loss to Ghana
on the state channel in October 2013. Although Al Jazeera Sport
announced it would take legal action against the Egyptian broadcaster,
182
the head of the Egyptian Radio and Television Union responded aggres-
sively that Egyptian TV would “air any matches it wants” and, more-
over, demanded 200 million Egyptian pounds’ compensation for Al
Jazeera’s use of state broadcast vehicles during the channel’s coverage of
Brotherhood demonstrations at the Rabaa Al-Adawiya protest camp in
Cairo.27 Yet, tensions between Egypt and Qatar continued to deterio-
rate, culminating in a poisonous spat in January 2014 that began when
the Qatari Ministry of Foreign Affairs released a statement expressing
concern at the high number of people being killed in demonstrations
throughout Egypt and calling for political dialogue as the only way
forward. Egypt’s Foreign Affairs Minister, Nabil Fahmy, responded by
stating that “We reject the Qatari stance, in form and in content,”
summoning the Qatari Ambassador to Egypt to inform him of the
Egyptian government’s displeasure, and threatening to withdraw the
Egyptian Ambassador from Qatar. Revealingly, the news organisation
Al-Monitor quoted an “official source close to the Egyptian govern-
ment” as saying that:
…The real crisis with Qatar has to do with the continuous media escalation
through Al Jazeera, especially Al Jazeera English Live. The channel broadcasts
daily images that reflect the instability of the Egyptian political scene. This
never ceases to upset the Egyptian government, because the media clearly has a
negative impact on international public opinion.28
â•… Events in Egypt and across the Middle East have demonstrated how
the Arab Spring came full circle in the Arab world’s most populous
state. Just as the uprising that ousted President Mubarak from power
galvanised demonstrators across the region, so the reinstatement of
military rule sent a clear message about the embedded power of coun-
ter-revolutionary forces and vested interests. These groups have proven
to be resilient enough to resist the pressures that swept through the
region in 2011, aided by the inability of the protest movements to
present viable governing alternatives in the transition states. At the
time of writing this Epilogue, in March 2014, Egypt appears more
divided than ever as a society, the military are once again entrenched in
authority and the economy is spiraling out of control. Elsewhere, the
civil war in Syria continues to rage with no clear military or political
settlement in sight, Libya is at risk of being torn apart by militia groups
competing for localised power, and Tunisia is less free than it was prior
to the 2011 uprisings.
183
â•… Fragmented and divided societies provide a recipe for deep political
turmoil and protracted levels of inter-communal violence that defy
rapid resolution. With the momentum of the Arab Spring having shifted
back in favour of the status quo ante and with the regional upheaval
showing every sign of continuing for a long time to come, Emir Tamim
faces a delicate combination of consolidating power domestically while
engaging in damage limitation regionally. In this context, Qatar’s new
leadership will find its room for manoeuver constrained by the residual
scepticism, even hostility, to Qatari intentions, real or perceived,
whether from Saudi Arabia and the United Arab Emirates or further
afield from Egypt and Algeria. Thus, it is likely that the exuberance of
Qatar’s post-2011 initiatives will be tempered by greater caution and
sustainable thinking in decision-making as the new emir moves to
rebuild bridges and address the policy overreach that came to character-
ise Qatar’s flawed—yet bold—approach to the Arab Spring.
184
pp. [2–6]
NOTES
INTRODUCTION
1.â•‡“Qatar, Playing All Sides, is a Nonstop Mediator,” New York Times, 9 July
Â€
2008.
2.â•‡J.E. Peterson, “Qatar and the World: Branding for a Micro-State,” Middle
Â€
East Journal, 60(4), 2006, pp.â•–732–48.

3.â•‡David Held and Anthony McGrew, “Introduction,” in David Held and
Anthony McGrew (eds.), The Global Transformations Reader: An Introduction
to the Globalization Debate (Cambridge: Polity Press, 2007 edn), pp.â•–3–4.
4.â•‡“The Rise of State Capitalism,” The Economist, 21 January 2012, pp.â•–11–12.
Â€
5.â•‡Mehran Kamrava, Qatar: Small State, Big Politics (Ithaca: Cornell University
Press, 2013), pp.â•–13, 60.
6.â•‡Kristian Coates Ulrichsen, “The Political Transformation of the Middle East
and North Africa,” World Financial Review, June 2011.
7.â•‡cf. Marc Lynch, The Arab Uprising: The Unfinished Revolutions of the New
Middle East (New York: PubliAffairs, 2012), p.â•–16.
8.â•‡“#Saudi Arabia World’s 2nd Most Twitter-Happy Nation,” Arab News,
20 May 2013.
Â€
9.â•‡Jane Kinninmont, “To What Extent is Twitter Changing Gulf Societies,”

Chatham House, February 2013, p.â•–2.
10.â•‡Christopher Davidson, “Looming Political Shift,” Carnegie Endowment
for International Peace, Sada Debates, 15 August 2013.
Â€
11.â•‡Allen Fromherz, Qatar: A Modern History (Georgetown: Georgetown

University Press, 2012).
12.â•‡Matthew Gray, Qatar: Politics and the Challenges of Development (Boulder,
CO: Lynne Rienner, 2013).
13.â•‡Kamrava, Small State, Big Politics.
185
pp. [6–19] NOTES
14.â•‡David Roberts, Qatar: Securing the Global Ambitions of a City-State (London:
Hurst & Co., 2014).
1.â•‡HISTORICAL AND POLITICAL CONTEXT

1.â•‡Michael Casey, The History of Kuwait (London: Greenwood Press, 2007),
p.â•–22.
2.â•‡Steven Wright, “Foreign Policies with International Reach: The Case of
Qatar,” in David Held and Kristian Ulrichsen (eds.), The Transformation of
the Gulf: Politics, Economics and the Global Order (London: Routledge,
2011), p.â•–299.
3.â•‡James Onley and Suleyman Khalaf, “Shaikhly Authority in the Pre-Oil
Gulf: An Historical-Anthropological Study,” History and Anthropology,
17(3), 2006, pp.â•–191–2.
4.â•‡Jill Crystal, Oil and Politics in the Gulf: Rulers and Merchants in Kuwait and
Qatar (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1990), p.â•–5.
5.â•‡Habibur Rahman, The Emergence of Qatar: The Turbulent Years 1627–1916
(London: Kegan Paul International Ltd., 2005), p.â•–69.
6.â•‡Rosemarie Said Zahlan, The Making of the Modern Gulf States (London,
Unwin Hyman, 1999 edn), p.â•–100.
7.â•‡Wright, “Foreign Policies with International Reach,” p.â•–299.
8.â•‡Ibid., p.â•–298.
9.â•‡Personal interview with an expatriate academic, Qatar, December 2008.
10.â•‡Marc Lynch, The Arab Uprisings: The Unfinished Revolutions of the New
Middle East (New York: PublicAffairs, 2012), p.â•–10.
11.â•‡cf. Sulayman Khalaf, “The Nationalisation of Culture: Kuwait’s Invention
of a Pearl-Diving Heritage,” in Alanoud Alsharekh and Robert Springborg
(eds.), Popular Culture and Political Identity in the Arab Gulf States (London:
Saqi Books, 2008), pp.â•–40–70.
12.â•‡John Bullock, The Gulf: A Portrait of Kuwait, Qatar, Bahrain and the UAE
(London: Century Publishing, 1984), p.â•–119.
13.â•‡Crystal, Oil and Politics in the Gulf, pp.â•–5–6.
14.â•‡Bullock, The Gulf, p.â•–82.
15.â•‡Rosemarie Said Zahlan, The Creation of Qatar (London: Croon Helm,
1979), pp.â•–82–3.
16.â•‡Andrew Rathmell and Kirsten Schulze, “Political Reform in the Gulf: The
Case of Qatar,” Middle Eastern Studies, 36(4), 2000, p.â•–59.
17.â•‡Crystal, Oil and Politics in the Gulf, p.â•–3.
18.â•‡Joseph Kechichian, Power and Succession in Arab Monarchies: A Reference
Guide (Boulder, CO: Lynne Rienner, 2008), pp.â•–193–7.
186
NOTES pp. [20–24]
19.â•‡Shohei Sato, “Britain’s Decision to Withdraw from the Persian Gulf, 1964–
68: A Pattern and a Puzzle,” Journal of Imperial and Commonwealth History,
37(1), 2009, p.â•–108.
20.â•‡Quoted in James Onley, “Britain and the Gulf Sheikhdoms, 1820–1971:
The Politics of Protection,” Georgetown University School of Foreign
Service in Qatar, Center for International and Regional Studies, Occasional
Paper No.â•–4 (2009), p.â•–22.
21.â•‡The Qatar and Dubai Riyal replaced the Indian Rupee as the local currency
and continued to circulate after the (separate) independence of Qatar and
the United Arab Emirates, being withdrawn in 1973.
22.â•‡William Roger Louis, “The British Withdrawal from the Gulf, 1967–71,”
Journal of Imperial and Commonwealth History, 31(1), 2003, pp.â•–95–8.
23.â•‡Simon Smith, Kuwait 1950–1965: Britain, the al-Sabah, and Oil (Oxford:
Oxford University Press, 1999), pp.â•–116–20.
24.â•‡Roger Louis, “British Withdrawal from the Gulf,” p.â•–102.
25.â•‡Christopher Davidson, Dubai: The Vulnerability of Success (London: Hurst
& Co., 2008), p.â•–251.
26.â•‡Arshin Adib-Moghaddam, The International Politics of the Persian Gulf: A
Cultural Genealogy (London: Routledge, 2006), p.â•–29.
27.â•‡Charles Tripp, “The Foreign Policy of Iraq,” in Raymond Hinnebusch and
Anoushiravan Ehteshami (eds.), The Foreign Policies of Middle East States
(London: Lynne Rienner, 2002), pp.â•–175–6.
28.â•‡Abdulkhaleq Abdulla, “The Gulf Cooperation Council: Nature, Origin and
Process,” in Michael Hudson (ed.), Middle East Dilemma: The Politics and
Economics of Arab Integration (New York: Columbia University Press, 1999),
p.â•–154.
29.â•‡Ibid.
30.â•‡Abdullah Baaboud, “Dynamics and Determinants of the GCC States’
Foreign Policy, with Special Reference to the EU,” in Gerd Nonneman
(ed.), Analyzing Middle Eastern Foreign Policies (London: Routledge, 2005),
p.â•–148.
31.â•‡Anthony Cordesman, quoted in Ibrahim Suleiman al-Duraiby, Saudi Arabia,
GCC and the EU: Limitations and Possibilities for an Unequal Triangular
Relationship (Dubai: Gulf Research Centre, 2009), p.â•–89.
32.â•‡Interview with Abdulla Bishara, Secretary-General of the Gulf Cooperation
Council 1981–1993, Kuwait City, 21 October 2009.
Â€
33.â•‡Justin Dargin, “Qatar’s Natural Gas: The Foreign Policy Driver,” Middle
East Policy, 14(3), 2007, pp.â•–138–9.
34.â•‡Sharon Shochat, “The Gulf Cooperation Council Economies: Diversification
and Reform,” LSE Kuwait Programme Introductory Paper, 2008, pp.â•–7–8.
35.â•‡Claude Berrebi, Francisco Martorell and Jeffrey Tanner, “Qatar’s Labour
Markets at a Crucial Crossroad,” Middle East Journal, 63(3), 2009, p.â•–425.
187
pp. [24–29] NOTES
36.â•‡Dargin, “Qatar’s Natural Gas,” p.â•–136.
37.â•‡Mehran Kamrava, “Royal Factionalism and Political Liberalization in Qatar,”
Middle East Journal, 63(3), 2009, p.â•–406.
38.â•‡Steffen Hertog, “Gulf Countries: The Current Crisis and Lessons from the
1980s,” Arab Reform Bulletin, July 2009.
39.â•‡Said Zahlan, Making of the Modern Gulf States, p.â•–103.
40.â•‡“Interview with Dr. Ali Khalifa Al Kuwari, Author of ‘The People Want
Â€
Reform…in Qatar, Too’,” Heinrich Boll Stiftung, October 2012, http://

www.lb.boell.org/web/52–1170.html (accessed 3 February 2013).
Â€
41.â•‡Wright, Foreign Policies with International Reach, p.â•–301.

42.â•‡Darryl Champion, “Saudi Arabia: Elements of Instability within Stability,”
in Barry Rubin (ed.), Crises in the Contemporary Persian Gulf (London:
Frank Cass, 2002), pp.â•–130–1.
43.â•‡Dargin, “Qatar’s Natural Gas,” p.â•–137.
44.â•‡Daniel Byman and Jerrold Green, “The Enigma of Political Stability in the
Persian Gulf Monarchies,” in Barry Rubin (ed.), Crises in the Contemporary
Persian Gulf (London: Frank Cass, 2002), p.â•–80.
45.â•‡Wright, “Foreign Policies with International Reach,” p.â•–301.
46.â•‡Anoushiravan Ehteshami and Steven Wright, “Political Change in the Arab
Oil Monarchies: From Liberalization to Enfranchisement,” International
Affairs, 83(5), 2007, p.â•–921.
47.â•‡Daniel Yergin, The Quest: Energy, Security, and the Remaking of the Modern
World (London: Allen Lane 2011), pp.â•–10–11.
48.â•‡Sultan Sooud Al Qassemi, “How Saudi Arabia and Qatar Became Friends
Again,” Foreign Policy, 21 July 2011.
Â€
49.â•‡Sean Foley, The Arab Gulf States: Beyond Oil and Islam (Boulder, CO: Lynne
Rienner, 2010), pp.â•–102–3.
50.â•‡Kamrava, “Royal Factionalism and Political Liberalization,” p.â•–414.
51.â•‡Patrick Cockburn, “Emir of Qatar Deposed by his Son,” The Independent,
28 June 1995.
Â€
52.â•‡Ehteshami and Wright, “Political Change in the Arab Oil Monarchies,”

p.â•–921.
53.â•‡Kechichian, Power and Succession in Arab Monarchies, p.â•–213.
54.â•‡Personal interview with an expatriate policy analyst, Qatar, December 2010.
55.â•‡cf. Gerd Nonneman, “Security and Inclusion: Regime Responses to Domestic
Challenges in the Gulf,” in Sean McKnight, Neil Partrick and Francis Toase
(eds.), Gulf Security: Opportunities and Challenges for the New Generation
(London: RUSI Whitehall Paper Series 51, 2000), pp.â•–107–15.
56.â•‡Abdulla, “Gulf Cooperation Council,” p.â•–150.
57.â•‡Frauke Heard-Bey, “Conflict Resolution and Regional Co-operation: The
Role of the Gulf Cooperation Council, 1970–2002,” Middle Eastern Studies,
42(2), 2006, p.â•–210.
188
NOTES pp. [29–34]
58.â•‡“Life Sentences for Qatari Coup Plotters,” BBC News, 29 February 2000.
Â€
59.â•‡Ian Black, “Wary Qatar Digs In For More Trouble,” The Guardian, 4 March
Â€
1996.
60.â•‡Ahmed Abdelkareem Saif, “Deconstructing before Building: Perspectives
on Democracy in Qatar,” in Anoushiravan Ehteshami and Steven Wright
(eds.), Reform in the Middle East Oil Monarchies (Reading: Ithaca Press,
2008), p.â•–125; Jill Crystal, “Political Reform in Qatar,” in Mary Ann
Tetreault, Gwenn Okruhlik and Andrzej Kapiszewski (eds.), Political Change
in the Arab Gulf States: Stuck in Transition (Boulder, CO: Lynne Rienner,
2011), p.â•–122.
61.â•‡Kristian Coates Ulrichsen, “Security Policy of the Gulf States: Bahrain,
Kuwait and Qatar,” ORIENT: German Journal for Politics, Economics and
Culture in the Middle East, 52(1), 2011, p.â•–24.
62.â•‡Heard-Bey, “Conflict Resolution and Regional Co-operation,” p.â•–214.
63.â•‡“Changes to Border with Saudi Arabia,” Gulf States Newsletter, 35(902),
10 June 2011, p.â•–10.
Â€
64.â•‡Kamrava, “Royal Factionalism and Political Liberalization,” p.â•–403.

65.â•‡Louay Bahry, “The New Arab Media Phenomenon: Qatar’s Al Jazeera,”
Middle East Policy, 8(2), 2001, p.â•–89.
66.â•‡Crystal, “Political Reform in Qatar,” pp.â•–120–1.
67.â•‡Jill Crystal, “Economic and Political Liberalization: Views from the Business
Community,” in Joshua Teitelbaum (ed.), Political Liberalization in the
Persian Gulf (London: Hurst & Co., 2009), pp.â•–41–2.
68.â•‡Jean-Francois Seznec, “Introduction,” in Jean-Francois Seznec and Mimi
Kirk (eds.), Industrialization in the Gulf: A Socioeconomic Revolution
(London: Routledge, 2011), p.â•–8.
69.â•‡“Gas Status Puts Country at Centre of Global Forces,” Financial Times,
17 December 2011.
Â€
70.â•‡Kristian Coates Ulrichsen, “Qatar: Emergence of a Regional Power with

International Reach,” e-International Relations, 23 January 2012.
Â€
71.â•‡J.E. Peterson, “Sovereignty and Boundaries in the Gulf States: Settling the
Â€
Peripheries,” in Mehran Kamrava (ed.), International Politics of the Persian

Gulf (New York: Syracuse University Press, 2011), p.â•–21.
72.â•‡Joseph Kechichian, “Democratization in Gulf Monarchies: A New Challenge
to the GCC,” Middle East Policy, 11(4), 2004, p.â•–44.
73.â•‡Heard-Bey, “Conflict Resolution and Regional Co-operation,” p.â•–211.
74.â•‡Ibid., pp.â•–212–13.
75.â•‡Gerd Nonneman, “Determinants and Patterns of Saudi Foreign Policy:
‘Omnibalancing’ and ‘Relative Autonomy’ in Multiple Environments,” in
Paul Aarts and Gerd Nonneman (eds.), Saudi Arabia in the Balance: Political
Economy, Society, Foreign Affairs (London: Hurst & Co., 2005), pp.â•–15–16.
189
pp. [34–42] NOTES
76.â•‡Gerd Nonneman, “Analyzing the Foreign Policies of the Middle East and
North Africa: A Conceptual Framework,” in Gerd Nonneman (ed.),
Analyzing Middle Eastern Foreign Policies (London: Routledge, 2005),
pp.â•–15–16.
77.â•‡Mary Ann Weaver, ‘Democracy by Desire: Can One Man Propel a Country
Into the Future?’ The New Yorker, 20 November 2000, quoted in Anthony
Â€
Cordesman and Khalid al-Rodhan, The Gulf Military Forces in an Age of

Asymmetric War: Qatar (Washington, D.C., Center for Strategic and
International Studies, 2006), pp.â•–12–13.
2.â•‡STATE-BRANDING AND THE LEVERAGING OF POWER

AND INFLUENCE
1.â•‡Sultan Barakat, “The Qatari Spring: Qatar’s Emerging Role in Peacemaking,”
LSE Kuwait Programme Paper No.â•–24, July 2012, p.â•–4.
2.â•‡Ibid., p.â•–7.
3.â•‡Personal observations, Doha, December 2011.
4.â•‡Joseph Nye, Bound to Lead: The Changing Nature of American Power (New
York: Basic Books, 1990).
5.â•‡cf. Joseph Nye, Soft Power: The Means to Success in World Politics (New York:
PublicAffairs, 2004).
6.â•‡Ibid.
7.â•‡David Held and Kristian Coates Ulrichsen, The End of the American
Century: From 9/11 to the Arab Spring (Cambridge: Polity Press, 2014),
Â€
forthcoming.
8.â•‡Allen Fromherz, Qatar: A Modern History (Washington, D.C.: Georgetown
University Press, 2012), pp.â•–102, 107.
9.â•‡Personal interview with an academic in Education City, Qatar, December
2008.
10.â•‡J.E. Peterson, “Qatar and the World: Branding for a Micro-State,” Middle
Â€
East Journal, 60(4), 2006, p.â•–741.

11.â•‡Andrew Cooper and Timothy Shaw (eds.), The Diplomacies of Small States:
Between Vulnerability and Resilience (Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan,
2009), pp.Â€xix–xx.
12.â•‡Renee Richer, “Conservation in Qatar: Increasing Effects of Industrialization,”
Georgetown University School of Foreign Service in Qatar, Center for
International and Regional Studies, Occasional Paper No.â•–1 (2008), p.â•–3.
13.â•‡Personal interviews with Qatari analysts in the public and private sector,
Qatar, December 2011.
14.â•‡Kristian Coates Ulrichsen, “Qatar: Emergence of a Regional Power with
International Reach,” e-International Relations, 23 January 2012.
Â€
190
NOTES pp. [42–48]
15.â•‡“UK’s Dependence on Qatari LNG a Risk,” Interfax Global Energy Services,
18 January 2012.
Â€
16.â•‡“China, Qatar in 25-Year Gas Deal,” The Peninsula, 8 March 2009.

Â€
17.â•‡“Aviation in the Gulf: Rulers of the New Silk Road,” The Economist, 3 June
Â€
2010.
18.â•‡Namie Tsujigami, “Seeking for Diversity: Japan-Saudi Shifting Relations,”
Presentation at the Japan and Asianisation of the Gulf workshop, Durham
University, 10 July 2012.
Â€
19.â•‡“Nation Branding: Shaking Off the Korea Discount,” Knowledge@Wharton,

12 January 2011.
Â€
20.â•‡“China to Enhance Cultural Soft Power in Next Five Years,” People’s Daily
Online, 27 October 2010.
Â€
21.â•‡“China’s Soft Power Set for Global Audience,” People’s Daily Online,
20 August 2010.
Â€
22.â•‡“How to Improve China’s Soft Power?” News of the Communist Party of

China, 10 March 2010.
Â€
23.â•‡Anoushiravan Ehteshami, Globalization and Geopolitics in the Middle East:

Old Games, New Rules (London: Routledge, 2007), p.â•–110.
24.â•‡Kristian Coates Ulrichsen, “Repositioning the GCC States in the Changing
Global Order,” Journal of Arabian Studies, 1(2), 2011, p.â•–232.
25.â•‡Makio Yamada, “Gulf-Asia Relations as ‘Post-Rentier’ Diversification? The
Case of the Petrochemical Industry in Saudi Arabia,” Journal of Arabian
Studies, 1(1), 2011, pp.â•–101–3.
26.â•‡Cooper and Shaw, Diplomacies of Small States, p.Â€xix.
27.â•‡Richard Samans, Klaus Schwab and Mark Malloch-Brown (eds.), Global
Redesign: Strengthening International Cooperation in a More Interdependent
World (Geneva: World Economic Forum, 2010).
28.â•‡Kristian Coates Ulrichsen, “Rebalancing Global Governance: Gulf States’
Perspectives on the Governance of Globalisation,” Global Policy, 2(1), 2011,
p.â•–70.
29.â•‡“Emir Warns of Another Iraq if Sudan Sinks into Chaos,” Gulf Times,
31 March 2009.
Â€
30.â•‡Richard Youngs, “Impasse in Euro-Gulf Relations,” FRIDE Working Paper

No.â•–80, April 2009, p.â•–1.
31.â•‡“Barclays Called Reckless Over $511 Million Payments to Qatar Investors,”
Reuters, 16 September 2013.
Â€
32.â•‡Coates Ulrichsen, “Repositioning the GCC,” p.â•–237.

33.â•‡Kristian Coates Ulrichsen, “Qatar and the Arab Spring,” Open Democracy,
12 April 2011.
Â€

191
pp. [48–58] NOTES
2011), p.â•–305.
35.â•‡Barakat, “Qatari Spring,” p.â•–8.
36.â•‡Fromherz, Qatar, p.â•–109.
37.â•‡Kristian Coates Ulrichsen, David Held and Alia Brahimi, “The Arab 1989?”
Open Democracy, 11 February 2011.
Â€
38.â•‡“WikiLeaks Cables Claim Al-Jazeera Changed Coverage to Suit Qatari

Foreign Policy,” The Guardian, 6 December 2010.
Â€
39.â•‡Omar Chatriwala, “What WikiLeaks Tells Us About Al Jazeera,” Foreign

Policy, 19 September 2011.
Â€
40.â•‡Coates Ulrichsen, “Qatar and the Arab Spring.”

41.â•‡Sultan Sooud Al-Qassemi, “Morsi’s Win is Al Jazeera’s Loss,” 1 July 2012,
Â€
http://www.al-monitor.com/pulse/originals/2012/al-monitor/morsys-win-
is-al-jazeeras-loss.html (accessed 8 July 2012).
Â€
42.â•‡Anh-Hao Thi Phan, “A New Paradigm of Educational Borrowing in the

Gulf States: The Qatari Example,” Middle East Institute Viewpoints: Higher
Education and the Middle East (Washington, D.C.: Middle East Institute,
2010), p.â•–34.
43.â•‡“QNRF Awards $121 Million in Research Funding to National Priority
Projects,” QNRF Newsletter, Issue 12, August 2013.
44.â•‡Kristian Coates Ulrichsen, “Knowledge Based Economies in the GCC,” in
Mehran Kamrava (ed.), The Political Economy of the Persian Gulf (London:
Hurst & Co., 2012), p.â•–107.
45.â•‡http://therealnews.com/t2/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&
id=31&Itemid=74&jumival=4743 (accessed 14 July 2012).
Â€
46.â•‡http://www.thedohadebates.com/debates/item/?d=114&s=8&mode=details
(accessed 15 July 2012).
Â€
47.â•‡“The Limits to Liberalisation: A Press Row in Qatar,” The Economist, 14 May Â€
2009.
48.â•‡Coates Ulrichsen, “Rebalancing Global Governance,” p.â•–69.
49.â•‡“Villaggio fire investigation: Perfect storm of negligence, lack of prepared-
ness contributed to deaths,” Doha News, http://dohanews.co/post/2501852
9969/villaggio-fire-investigation-perfect-storm-of (accessed 22 July 2012).
Â€
50.â•‡“Football Crosses New Frontier as Qatar Wins World Cup Vote for 2022,”
The Guardian, 3 December 2010.
Â€
51.â•‡Full details of the values that drive the Aspire Academy and its various pro-
grammes are available at www.aspire.qa (accessed 24 July 2012).
Â€
52.â•‡http://www.ocasia.org/Game/GameParticular. aspx?9QoyD9QEWPeZTx
kPP/brRA== (accessed 24 July 2012).
Â€
53.â•‡“Asian Games Success Will Help Doha 2016 Bid,” Reuters, 20 February Â€
2008.
192
NOTES pp. [58–65]
54.â•‡Personal observation, Qatar, December 2011.
55.â•‡“Stadium Air-Conditioning in Doubt for 2022 World Cup in Qatar Despite
Fears Over Extreme Heat,” Daily Telegraph, 8 November 2011.
Â€
56.â•‡“Qatar 2022 World Cup Award May be a Mistake, Says Sepp Blatter,” BBC
News, 9 September 2013.
Â€
57.â•‡“Dubai Sparks International Outcry As It Bans Israeli Tennis Star From

Competition,” Daily Mail, 16 February 2009.
Â€
58.â•‡“Nadal and Federer Light Up 2012 Season,” 1 January 2012, http://www.

Â€
atpworldtour.com/News/Tennis/2012/01/1/Doha-Federer-Nadal-Sunset-
Tennis-Candles.aspx (accessed 25 July 2012).
Â€
59.â•‡“Tiger Woods Is Not Worth $3m Appearance Fee, According to Qatar

Masters,” 11 January 2013.
Â€
60.â•‡“Why Paris Saint-Germain’s Financial Statements Qualify as Fiction,” Forbes,

21 July 2013.
Â€
61.â•‡Christopher Davidson, “Diversification in Abu Dhabi and Dubai: The

Impact on National Identity and the Ruling Bargain,” in Alanoud Alsharekh
and Robert Springborg (eds.), Popular Culture and Political Identity in the
Arab Gulf States (London: Saqi Books, 2008), pp.â•–146–7.
62.â•‡Jim Krane, Dubai: The Story of the World’s Fastest City (London: Atlantic
Books, 2009), pp.â•–105–9.
63.â•‡David Held and Kristian Coates Ulrichsen, “Introduction,” in David Held
and Kristian Coates Ulrichsen (eds.), The Transformation of the Gulf: Politics,
Economics and the Global Order (London: Routledge, 2011), pp.â•–10–11.
64.â•‡Kristian Coates Ulrichsen, “Bahrain: Evolution or Revolution?” Open
Democracy, 1 March 2011.
Â€
65.â•‡Christopher Davidson, “The Making of a Police State,” Foreign Policy,

14 April 2011.
Â€
66.â•‡“Waves of Arrests Puts Al-Islah Back into the Spotlight,” Gulf States
Newsletter, 36(924), 24 May 2012, p.â•–3.
Â€
67.â•‡Q&A Mr Ahmed Al Nuaimi, Chairman, Qatar Tourism Authority,

Â€
“Boosting Visitor Numbers While Improving Quality and Offerings,”

B’Here Annual Review Qatar 2012: The Vision Moves Forward: Towards a
Knowledge-Based Society (Doha: Arab Communications Consult, 2012),
pp.â•–260–2.
68.â•‡Coates Ulrichsen, “Rebalancing Global Governance,” p.â•–72.
69.â•‡Personal interview with a Qatari public sector official, Qatar, May 2012.
70.â•‡Coates Ulrichsen, “Rebalancing Global Governance,” pp.â•–71–2.
71.â•‡Mohamed Raouf, “Climate Change Threats, Challenges, and the GCC
Countries,” Middle East Policy Brief, No.â•–12, April 2008, p.â•–7.
72.â•‡Kristian Coates Ulrichsen, Insecure Gulf: The End of Certainty and the
Transition to the Post-Oil Era (London: Hurst & Co., 2011), p.â•–62.
193
pp. [65–73] NOTES
73.â•‡http://www.energycity.com/project-overview.html (accessed 29 July 2012).
Â€
74.â•‡www.wanaforum.org (accessed 16 July 2012).

Â€
3.â•‡DRIVERS AND MOTIVATIONS OF QATARI FOREIGN POLICY

1.â•‡N. Janardhan, “China, India, and the Persian Gulf: Converging Interests?”
Â€
in Mehran Kamrava (ed.), International Politics of the Persian Gulf (New

York: Syracuse University Press, 2011), pp.â•–218–9.
2.â•‡Anders Holmen Gulbrandsen, “Bridging the Gulf: Qatari Business
Diplomacy and Conflict Mediation,” Georgetown University: Unpublished
MA Thesis, 2010, p.â•–28.
3.â•‡Robert Burrowes, “The Yemeni Civil War of 1994: Impact on the Arab Gulf
States,” in Jamal al-Suwaidi (ed.), The Yemeni War of 1994: Causes and
Consequences (London: Saqi Books, 1995), p.â•–77.
LSE Kuwait Programme Working Paper No.â•–24, 2012, p.â•–4.
5.â•‡Ibid.
University Press, 2012), p.â•–89.
7.â•‡Gulbrandsen, “Bridging the Gulf,” p.â•–29.
8.â•‡Gerd Nonneman, “Determinants and Patterns of Saudi Foreign Policy:
‘Omnibalancing’ and ‘Relative Autonomy’ in Multiple Environments,” in
Paul Aarts and Gerd Nonneman (eds.), Saudi Arabia in the Balance: Political
Economy, Society, Foreign Affairs (London: Hurst & Co., 2005), p.â•–351.
9.â•‡Anthony Cordesman and Khalid Al-Rodhan, “The Gulf Military Forces in
an Era of Asymmetric War: Qatar,” Center for Strategic and International
Studies, 28 June 2006, p.â•–11.
Â€
10.â•‡Mary Ann Weaver, “Qatar: Revolution From the Top Down,” National
Geographic, March 2003.
11.â•‡“US Embassy Cables: Qatari Prime Minister: They Lie to Us,” The Guardian,
28 November 2010.
Â€
12.â•‡Steve Coll, Private Empire: ExxonMobil and American Power (London: Allen
Lane, 2012), pp.â•–541–2.
13.â•‡J.E. Peterson, “Sovereignty and Boundaries in the Gulf States: Setting the
Â€
Peripheries,” in Kamrava (ed.), International Politics of the Persian Gulf,

pp.â•–40–1.
14.â•‡Michael Knights, “Gulf States Face New Security Challenges,” Jane’s
Intelligence Review, 1 May 2005.
Â€
15.â•‡Joseph Kechichian, “Can Conservative Arab Monarchies Endure a Fourth

War in the Persian Gulf?” Middle East Journal, 61(2), 2007, p.â•–306.
16.â•‡Andrew Cooper and Bessma Momani, “Qatar and Expanded Contours of
194
NOTES pp. [73–77]
Small State Diplomacy,” The International Spectator: Italian Journal of
International Affairs, 46(3), 2011, p.â•–124.
17.â•‡“Qatar Urges Dialogue With Iran,” Gulf States Newsletter, 36(917),
9 February 2012, p.â•–10.
Â€
18.â•‡Kohei Hashimoto, Jareer Elass and Stacy Eller, “Liquefied Natural Gas from
Qatar: the Qatargas Project,” in David Victor and Amy Myers Jaffe (eds.),
Natural Gas and Geopolitics: From 1970 to 2040 (Cambridge: Cambridge
19.â•‡“Deal with Enron by Qatar,” New York Times, 20 January 1995.
Â€
20.â•‡Uzi Rabi, “Qatar’s Relations with Israel: Challenging Arab and Gulf Norms,”
Middle East Journal, 63(3), 2009, p.â•–449.
21.â•‡Elisheva Rosman-Stollman, “Qatar: Liberalization as Foreign Policy,” in
Joshua Teitelbaum (ed.), Political Liberalization in the Persian Gulf (London:
Hurst and Co., 2009), p.â•–204.
22.â•‡Rabi, “Relations with Israel,” pp.â•–452–3.
23.â•‡Personal observation, Qatar, January 2009.
24.â•‡“Qatar Shuts Israeli Trade Office Over Gaza War,” AFP, 18 January 2009.
Â€
25.â•‡“Gaza Split Prompts Arab Countries to Boycott Emergency Summit,” The

Guardian, 15 January 2009.
Â€
26.â•‡“Qatar’s Emir Visits Gaza, Pledging $400 Million to Hamas,” New York
Times, 23 October 2012.
Â€
27.â•‡Ibid.
28.â•‡“Qatari Emir in Landmark Visit to Gaza,” Daily Telegraph, 23 October Â€
2012.
29.â•‡David Roberts, “Why is Qatar Mucking Around in Gaza?” Foreign Policy,
25 October 2012.
Â€
30.â•‡“Vocal Doha Positions Itself at the Centre of Syria Diplomacy,” Gulf States
Newsletter, 36(934), 25 October 2012 p.â•–5.
31.â•‡Ibid.
32.â•‡Becca Wasser, “Israel and the Gulf States,” IISS Voices, 22 August 2013.
Â€
33.â•‡“Qatar’s Emir Proposes Jerusalem Fund as Arab Summit Opens,” The

National, 26 March 2013.
Â€

2011), pp.â•–303–4.
35.â•‡Fred Halliday, The Middle East in International Relations: Power, Politics and
Ideology (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005), pp.â•–131–2.
36.â•‡Andrew Rathmell, Theodore Karasik and David Gompert, “A New Persian
Gulf Security System,” Santa Monica, CA: RAND Corporation, RAND
Issue Paper, 2003, p.â•–2.
195
pp. [78–84] NOTES
37.â•‡“Qatar and Libya Open a New Geopolitical Axis in North Africa,” Gulf
States Newsletter, 35(907), 2 September 2011, pp.â•–1–3.
Â€
38.â•‡Audrey Kurth Cronin, “Behind the Curve: Globalisation and International

Terrorism,” in Michael Brown, Owen Cote, Sean Lynn-Jones and Steven
Miller (eds.), New Global Dangers: Changing Dimensions of International
Security (Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 2004), p.â•–463.
39.â•‡Lynn Davis, “Globalization’s Security Implications,” Santa Monica, CA:
RAND Corporation, RAND Issue Paper, 2003, p.â•–1.
40.â•‡M.J. Williams, “The Coming Revolution in Foreign Affairs: Rethinking
Â€
American National Security,” International Affairs, 84(6), 2008, p.â•–1110.

41.â•‡Damian Grenfell and Paul James, “Debating Insecurity in a Globalizing
World: An Introduction,” in Damian Grenfell and Paul James (eds.),
Rethinking Insecurity, War and Violence (London: Routledge, 2009), p.â•–6.
42.â•‡cf. Barakat, “Qatari Spring.”
43.â•‡Anoushiravan Ehteshami, “Reform from Above: the Politics of Participation
in the Oil Monarchies,” International Affairs, 79(1), 2003, p.â•–53.
44.â•‡Kristian Coates Ulrichsen, “Gulf States: Studious Silence Falls on the Arab
Spring,” Open Democracy, 25 April 2011.
Â€
45.â•‡Quoted in “Qatar’s Risky Gamble in Libya is Part of Long-Term Strategy

to Become Master of its Own Destiny,” Gulf States Newsletter, 35(909),
30 September 2011, p.â•–1.
Â€
46.â•‡David Roberts, “Understanding Qatar’s Foreign Policy Objectives,”

Mediterranean Politics, 17(2), 2012, p.â•–233.
48.â•‡Ibid.
49.â•‡“Man in the News: Hamad bin Jassim Al Thani,” Financial Times, 21 JuneÂ€
2008.
50.â•‡“Qatar Nurtures its City Assets: from the Shard to Glencore Shares,” The
Guardian, 27 June 2012.
Â€
51.â•‡“Sudan and Chad Agree to Normalise Ties,” Sudan Tribune, 3 May 2009.
Â€
52.â•‡“Qatar Mediating Eritreat-Djibouti Border Dispute,” Gulf Times, 8 JuneÂ€
2010.
53.â•‡Mehran Kamrava, “Mediation and Qatari Foreign Policy,” Middle East
Journal, 65(4), 2011, p.â•–548.
54.â•‡“Sheikha Mozah Accepts Bush Award for Public Sector Excellence,” Gulf
Times, 21 September 2013.
Â€

56.â•‡http://www.qf.org.qa/community-development/addressing-social-needs/
reach-out-to-asia (accessed 16 October 2012).
Â€
57.â•‡Joseph Kechichian, Power and Succession in Arab Monarchies: A Reference

Guide (Boulder, CO: Lynne Rienner, 2008), pp.â•–214–15.
196
NOTES pp. [84–89]
58.â•‡‘Reshuffle and Resignation Spark Speculation Over Doha’s Plans.’ Gulf
States Newsletter, Volume 35 Issue 909, 30 September 2011.
59.â•‡“Succession in Qatar: Sheikh Tamim bin Hamad Al-Thani: heir apparent,”
Gulf States Newsletter, 35(910), 14 October 2011, p.â•–4.
Â€
60.â•‡Personal interviews with expatriate academics at Qatar University, Qatar,

May 2012.
61.â•‡Succession in Qatar, Gulf States Newsletter, p.â•–5.
62.â•‡Ibid.
63.â•‡“Hamas Leader Takes Rare Trip to Jordan,” New York Times, 29 January Â€
2012.
64.â•‡“Hamas Chief Makes ‘New, Good Start’ with Jordan During Historic Visit,”
Beirut Daily Star, 30 January 2012.
Â€
65.â•‡“Qatari Pay and Pension Rises Could Store Up Problems For the Future,”
Gulf States Newsletter, 35(908), 16 September 2011, p.â•–16.
Â€
66.â•‡Personal interview with expatriate policy analyst, Doha, December 2010.

67.â•‡Personal interview with Qatari media commentator, Doha, December 2011.
68.â•‡Kamrava, “Mediation and Qatari Foreign Policy,” p.â•–540.
69.â•‡Martin Hvidt, “The Dubai Model: An Outline of Key Development-Process
Elements in Dubai,” International Journal of Middle East Studies, 41(3),
2009, p.â•–412.
70.â•‡Ibid. p.â•–399.
71.â•‡Steffen Hertog, “Lean and Mean: The New Breed of State-owned Enterprises
in the Gulf Monarchies,” in Jean-Francois Seznec and Mimi Kirk (eds.),
Industrialization in the Gulf: A Socioeconomic Revolution (Abingdon:
Routledge, 2011), p.â•–18.
72.â•‡Jill Crystal, Oil and Politics in the Gulf: Rulers and Merchants in Kuwait and
Qatar (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1990), p.â•–9.
73.â•‡Namely QAPCO (Qatar Petroleum Company), QAFCO (Qatar Fertiliser
Company), Qatar Steel, and QAFAC (Qatar Fuel Additives Company).
74.â•‡Hertog, “Lean and Mean,” pp.â•–19–20.
75.â•‡“World’s First Commercial Passenger Flight Powered by Fuel Made From
Natural Gas Lands in Qatar,” http://www1.qatarairways.com/global/en/
newsroom/archive/press-release-12Oct09–2.html 12 October 2009
Â€
(accessed 24 October 2012).

Â€

77.â•‡Ibid., p.â•–64.
78.â•‡Ibid., p.â•–51.
79.â•‡“Economic Highlights of the New Cabinet’s Two-Year Plan (Part 3),” Yemen
Times, 19 January 2012.
Â€
80.â•‡“Qatar Refinery Play Highlights Tunisian Agenda,” Gulf States Newsletter,

36(924), 24 May 2012, p.â•–8.
Â€
197
pp. [89–95] NOTES
81.â•‡“Qatar, Tunisia Sign Investment Accords,” Gulf Times, 14 January 2012.
Â€
82.â•‡“QNB Buys Almost Half of Major Libyan Bank,” Gulf States Newsletter,
36(922), 26 April 2012, p.â•–13.
Â€
83.â•‡“Qatar Seeks to Invest—and Secure its Footing—in the New Egypt,” Gulf
States Newsletter, 36(932), 27 September 2012, pp.â•–9–10.
Â€
84.â•‡“Egyptian Private Equity Firm Teams Up with HBJ Son,” Gulf States
Newsletter, 36(934), 25 October 2012, p.â•–13.
Â€
85.â•‡“Qatar Sends Second Shipment of LNG to Egypt,” Reuters, 20 August Â€
2013.
86.â•‡Barakat, Qatari Spring, pp.â•–16–17.
87.â•‡“Hadi to Arrive in Doha Thursday,” Yemen Post, 2 August 2012.
Â€
88.â•‡Anders Gulbrandsen, ‘Bridging the Gulf: Qatari Business Diplomacy and

Conflict Mediation,’ Georgetown University MA Thesis (2010), pp.Â€51–52.
89.â•‡Sultan Barakat, Steven Zyck and Jenny Hunt, “Housing Compensation
& Disaster Preparedness in the Aftermath of the July 2006 War in South
Lebanon,” Norwegian Refugee Council & Post-War Reconstruction and
Development Unit, University of York, December 2008, p.â•–18.
90.â•‡“Qatar SWF Food Unit Eyes PAVA Stake, Seals Sudan Deal,” Reuters,
29 October 2009.
Â€
91.â•‡AlertNet, Darfur: Peace Elusive in War-Torn Region: Timeline, 2012.

Available online at: http://www.trust.org/alertnet/crisis-centre/crisis/dar-
fur-conflict/ (accessed 24 June 2013).
Â€
92.â•‡“Bashir Had Throat Surgery in Qatar, in Good Health: Official,” Reuters,

21 October 2012.
Â€
93.â•‡Personal interviews with Qatari public and private sector employees, Qatar,
December 2011 and May 2012.
94.â•‡Kristian Coates Ulrichsen, “Qatar’s Mediation Initiatives,” NOREF Policy
Brief, February 2013.
95.â•‡Kamrava, “Mediation and Qatari Foreign Policy,” p.â•–539.
96.â•‡“Qatar’s Risky Gamble in Libya is Part of Long-Term Strategy to Become
Master of its Own Destiny,” Gulf States Newsletter, 35(909), 30 September
Â€
2011, p.â•–3.
97.â•‡Personal interview with a Qatari media commentator, Qatar, December
2011 and May 2012.
98.â•‡Robert Worth, “Qatar, Playing all Sides, is a Nonstop Mediator,” New
York Times, 9 July 2008.
Â€
99.â•‡Christopher Davidson, After the Sheikhs: The Coming Collapse of the Gulf
Monarchies (London: Hurst & Co., 2012), p.â•–94.
100.â•‡Kristian Coates Ulrichsen, “Rebalancing Global Governance: Gulf States’
Perspectives on the Governance of Globalisation,” Global Policy, 2(1),
2011, p.â•–65.
198
NOTES pp. [95–105]
101.â•‡“The Rise of State Capitalism,” The Economist, 21 January 2012, pp.â•–11–12.
Â€
102.â•‡Kristian Coates Ulrichsen, “Small States with a Big Role: Qatar and the
United Arab Emirates in the Wake of the Arab Spring,” Durham University,
HH Sheikh Nasser al-Mohammad Al-Sabah Publication Series No.â•–3, 2012,
p.â•–8.
103.â•‡David Held and Anthony McGrew, “Introduction,” in David Held and
Anthony McGrew (eds.), Governing Globalization: Power, Autonomy and
Global Governance (Cambridge: Polity Press, 2002), p.â•–5.
4.â•‡QATAR AND THE ARAB SPRING

1.â•‡Khaled Hroub, “Qatar and the Arab Spring,” Heinrich Boll Stiftung, undated,
available online at http://www.lb.boell.org/web/113–1159.html (accessed
30 August 2013).
Â€
2.â•‡Matthew Gray, Qatar: Politics and the Challenges of Development (Boulder,

CO: Lynne Rienner, 2013), p.â•–209.
3.â•‡Guido Steinberg, “Qatar and the Arab Spring: Support for Islamists and
New Anti-Syrian Policy,” German Institute for International and Security
Affairs, SWP Comments 7, February 2012, pp.â•–3–4.
4.â•‡Bernard Haykel, “Qatar and Islamism,” NOREF Policy Brief, February 2013,
p.â•–2.
5.â•‡“Wave of Arrests Put Al-Islah Back in Spotlight,” Gulf States Newsletter,
36(924), 24 May 2012, pp.â•–2–3.
Â€
6.â•‡Stephane Lacroix, “Osama bin Laden and the Saudi Muslim Brotherhood,”
Foreign Policy, 3 October 2012.
Â€
7.â•‡Scheherezade Faramarzi, “Kuwait’s Muslim Brotherhood,” Jadaliyya,

18 April 2012.
Â€
8.â•‡Haykel, “Qatar and Islamism,” p.â•–2.

9.â•‡Kristian Coates Ulrichsen, “Holding Back the Tide,” Open Democracy,
5 August 2012.
Â€
10.â•‡Mehran Kamrava, Qatar: Small State, Big Politics (New York: Cornell
12 April 2011.
Â€
12.â•‡“Democracy Top of Youth Agenda,” Gulf States Newsletter, 35(697),

25 March 2011, p.â•–6.
Â€
13.â•‡“2010 Qatar World Values Survey,” Press Release by the Social and Economic
Survey Research Institute (SESRI), Qatar University, 3 May 2011, p.â•–3.
Â€
14.â•‡Ibid., p.â•–6.
15.â•‡Justin Gengler and Mark Tessler, “Civic Life and Democratic Citizenship
in Qatar: Findings from the First Qatar World Values Survey,” Social and
199
pp. [105–111] NOTES
Economic Survey Research Institute (SESRI), Qatar University, undated, avail-
able online at: http://wapor2012.hkpop.hk/doc/papers/ConcurrentSessions
V/VD/VD-4.pdf (accessed 28 August 2013).Â€
16.â•‡“Tamim’s Qatar Shows Few Signs of Turning from Muslim Brotherhood,”

Gulf States Newsletter, 37(952), 1 August 2013, p.â•–8.
Â€
17.â•‡Rania Abouzeid, “Bouazizi: The Man Who Set Himself and Tunisia On
Fire,” Time, 21 January 2011.
Â€
18.â•‡Kristian Coates Ulrichsen, David Held and Alia Brahimi, “The Arab 1989?”
Open Democracy, 11 February 2011.
Â€
19.â•‡Charles Tripp, The Power and the People: Paths of Resistance in the Middle
East (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2013), pp.â•–89–90.
20.â•‡Ibid.
21.â•‡Stephen Walt, “Why the Tunisian Revolution Won’t Spread,” Foreign Policy,
16 January 2011.
Â€
22.â•‡Marc Lynch, The Arab Uprising: The Unfinished Revolutions of the New Middle
East (New York: PublicAffairs, 2012), p.â•–16.
23.â•‡Fawaz Gerges, Obama and the Middle East: The End of America’s Moment
(Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2012), p.â•–1.
24.â•‡Louay Bahry, “The New Arab Media Phenomenon: Qatar’s Al Jazeera,”
Middle East Policy, 8(2), 2001, p.â•–88.
25.â•‡“Mubarak’s Doha Visit Ends Egypt-Qatar Differences, Sources Say,” Egypt
Independent, 24 November 2010.
Â€
26.â•‡“Egypt and Qatar Pursue New Economic and Political Cooperation,” Ahram
Online, 11 December 2010.
Â€
27.â•‡“Syria Crisis Ramps up Pressure on Gulf States,” Gulf States Newsletter,

35(908), 16 September 2011, p.â•–4.
Â€
28.â•‡“Foreign Aid Report 2010–2011,” State of Qatar: Ministry of Foreign Affairs,

International Development Department, 2012, p.â•–102.
29.â•‡Anders Holmen Gulbrandsen, “Bridging the Gulf: Qatari Business
Diplomacy and Conflict Mediation,” Georgetown University, Unpublished
MA Thesis, 2010, p.â•–51.
30.â•‡Sultan Sooud Al-Qassemi, “How Saudi Arabia and Qatar Became Friends
Â€
31.â•‡Syria Crisis
32.â•‡“WikiLeaks Cables Claim Al-Jazeera Changed Coverage to Suit Qatari
Foreign Policy,” The Guardian, 6 December 2010.
Â€
33.â•‡Lynch, Arab Uprising, p.â•–90.

34.â•‡Ibid.
35.â•‡“GCC Gives Measured Backing to Libya Campaign,” Gulf States Newsletter,
35(897), 25 March 2011, p.â•–5.
Â€
36.â•‡Coates Ulrichsen, “Qatar and the Arab Spring.”
200
NOTES pp. [112–117]
38.â•‡Lina Khatib, “Qatar’s Involvement in Libya: A Delicate Balance,” 7 January
Â€
2013, World Peace Foundation, available at: http://sites.tufts.edu/reinvent-

ingpeace/2013/01/07/qatars-involvement-in-libya-a-delicate-balance/
(accessed 30 January 2013).
Â€
39.â•‡David Held and Kristian Coates Ulrichsen, “Wars of Decline: Afghanistan,

Iraq and Libya,” Open Democracy, 12 December 2011.
Â€
United Arab Emirates in the Wake of the Arab Spring,” Durham University,
HH Sheikh Nasser al-Mohammad al-Sabah Publication Series No.â•–3, 2012,
p.â•–8.
LSE Kuwait Programme Working Paper No.â•–24, 2012, p.â•–36.
42.â•‡Ibid.
43.â•‡“For Qatar, Libya Intervention May Be A Turning Point,” New York Times,
3 April 2011.
Â€
44.â•‡“Obama Praises Qatar Leader for Libya Coalition Help,” Reuters, 14 April Â€
2011.
45.â•‡“Obama: No Big Move Toward Democracy in Qatar,” USA Today, 16 April Â€
2011.
46.â•‡“Al Jazeera Faces Tough Questions as Doha Backs Saudi Troops in Bahrain,”
Los Angeles Times, 15 March 2011.
Â€
47.â•‡“Qatar Has Sent Troops to Bahrain—Official,” AFP, 18 March 2011.

Â€
48.â•‡Munira Fakhro, “The Uprising in Bahrain: An Assessment,” in Gary Sick

and Lawrence Potter (eds.), The Persian Gulf at the Millennium: Essays in
Politics, Economy, Security, and Religion (London: Macmillan, 1997), p.â•–184.
49.â•‡Bernard Haykel, “Saudi Arabia’s Yemen Dilemma: How to Balance an
Unruly Client State,” Foreign Affairs, 14 June 2011.
Â€
50.â•‡Ginny Hill and Gerd Nonneman, “Yemen, Saudi Arabia, and the Gulf
States: Elite Politics, Street Protests and Regional Diplomacy,” Chatham
House Briefing Paper, May 2011, p.â•–9.
51.â•‡“Riyadh Plays a Waiting Game on Yemen,” Gulf States Newsletter, 35(909),
30 September 2011, pp.â•–7–8.
Â€
52.â•‡Christopher Boucek and Mara Revkin, “The Unraveling of the Salih Regime
in Yemen,” CTC Sentinel Op-Ed, 31 March 2011.
Â€
53.â•‡Hill and Nonneman, “Yemen, Saudi Arabia, and the Gulf,” p.â•–3.
54.â•‡Ibid., p.â•–5.
55.â•‡Jessica Forsythe, “Opportunities and Obstacles for Yemeni Workers in GCC
Labour Markets,” Chatham House MENAP Briefing Paper PP 2011/01,
September 2011, p.â•–15.
201
pp. [118–127] NOTES
56.â•‡F. Gregory Gause, “Is Saudi Arabia Really Counter-Revolutionary?” Foreign
Â€
Policy, 9 August 2011.

Â€
57.â•‡Kristian Coates Ulrichsen, “The Temperature is Rising: Sectarianism &

Political Reform in the Gulf,” Muftah, 3 October 2012.
Â€
58.â•‡“Brotherhood-Linked Group in UAE to be Tried this Week,” Gulf News,

3 February 2013.
Â€
59.â•‡“Islamists Plot Against Gulf, Says Dubai Police Chief,” AFP, 25 MarchÂ€
2012.
60.â•‡“Kuwait Brotherhood Continues to Criticise UAE,” Arab Times, 28 July Â€
2012.
61.â•‡“Gulf States Must Tackle Muslim Brotherhood Threat: UAE,” Dawn,
8 October 2012.
Â€
62.â•‡Lina Khatib, “Qatar’s Foreign Policy: The Limits of Pragmatism,”

5.â•‡ARAB SOLUTIONS TO ARAB PROBLEMS: LIBYA AND SYRIA

1.â•‡Sultan Barakat, “The Qatari Springs: Qatar’s Emerging Role in Peacemaking,”
LSE Kuwait Programme Working Paper No.â•–24, July 2012, p.â•–1.
2.â•‡“Qatar Takes a Bold Diplomatic Risk in Supporting Benghazi’s Transitional
Government,” Gulf States Newsletter, 35(898), 8 April 2011, p.â•–2.
Â€
3.â•‡Bernard Haykel, “Qatar’s Foreign Policy,” NOREF Policy Brief, February

2013, p.â•–2.
4.â•‡Adeed Dawisha, The Second Arab Awakening: Revolution, Democracy, and
the Islamist Challenge from Tunis to Damascus (New York: W.W. Norton &
Â€
Company, 2013), p.â•–26.

5.â•‡“Qatar Takes a Bold Diplomatic Risk in Supporting Benghazi’s Transitional
Government,” Gulf States Newsletter, 35(898), 8 April 2011, p.â•–1.
Â€
12 April 2011.
Â€
7.â•‡“Bahrain, Libyan Interventions,” Gulf States Newsletter, 35(897), 25 MarchÂ€
2011, p.â•–14.
9.â•‡Hugh Roberts, “Who Said Gaddafi Had to Go?” London Review of Books,
33(22), 17 November 2011, p.â•–17.
Â€
10.â•‡Kristian Coates Ulrichsen, “Libya and the Gulf: Revolution and Counter-
revolution,” Hurst Blog, 16 December 2011.
Â€
States Newsletter, 35(907), 2 September 2011, p.â•–3.
Â€
12.â•‡Dawisha, Second Arab Awakening, p.â•–148.

13.â•‡Ibid., p.â•–150.
202
NOTES pp. [127–133]
United Arab Emirates in the Wake of the Arab Spring,” Durham University:
HH Sheikh Nasser al-Mohammad al-Sabah Publication Series No.â•–3, October
2012, p.â•–13.
States Newsletter, 35(907), 2 September 2011, p.â•–3.
Â€

17.â•‡“Libya: Battle for Tripoli: Tuesday 23 August 2011,” The Guardian,
Â€
23 August 2011.
Â€
18.â•‡“Qatar Admits Sending Hundreds of Troops to Support Libya Rebels,” The

Guardian, 26 October 2011.
Â€
19.â•‡Ibid.
20.â•‡“Tiny Kingdom’s Huge Role in Libya Draws Concern,” Wall Street Journal,
17 October 2011.
Â€
21.â•‡Ibid.
22.â•‡David Kenner, “Oil, Guns, and Money: Libya’s Revolution Isn’t Over,”
Foreign Policy, 21 December 2011.
Â€
23.â•‡“Minister in Tripoli Blasts Qatari Aid to Militia Groups,” Wall Street Journal,
12 October 2011.
Â€
24.â•‡Kenner, Oil, “Guns, and Money.”

25.â•‡David Held and Kristian Coates Ulrichsen, “Wars of Decline: Afghanistan,
Iraq and Libya,” Open Democracy, 12 December 2011.
Â€
26.â•‡“It’s Political Party Time in Libya: The Key Players,” France 24, 10 July Â€
2012.
27.â•‡Dawisha, Second Arab Awakening, pp.â•–158–9.
28.â•‡Personal interview with Qatari media commentator, Doha, December 2011.
29.â•‡“US-Approved Arms for Libya Rebels Fell Into Jihadis’ Hands,” New York
Times, 5 December 2012.
Â€
30.â•‡“Is Syria-Qatar Rift a ‘Shrewdly Calculated Divorce’?,” France 24, 8 August

Â€
2011.
31.â•‡Sultan Sooud Al-Qassemi, “How Saudi Arabia and Qatar Became Friends
Â€
32.â•‡Dafna Hochman Rand, Roots of the Arab Spring: Contested Authority and
Political Change in the Middle East (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania
Press, 2013), p.â•–98.
33.â•‡The International Institute for Strategic Studies, The Military Balance 2012
(London: Routledge, 2012), p.â•–304.
34.â•‡Stephen Starr, Revolt in Syria: Eye-Witness to the Uprising (London: Hurst
& Co., 2012), pp.â•–3–4.
35.â•‡Marc Lynch, The Arab Uprising: The Unfinished Revolutions of the New Middle
East (New York: PublicAffairs, 2012), p.â•–181.
203
pp. [133–139] NOTES
36.â•‡“Maliki’s Shadow Foreign Minister,” Inside Iraqi Politics, 32(9), February
Â€
2012, p.â•–7.
37.â•‡“Libya after Gaddafi: A Dangerous Precedent,” Al Jazeera Opinion,
22 October 2011.
Â€
38.â•‡Quoted in Paul Danahar, The New Middle East: The World after the Arab
Spring (London: Bloomsbury, 2013), p.â•–357.
39.â•‡“Arab League Expels Syria over Failure to End Bloodshed,” The Guardian,
13 November 2011.
Â€
40.â•‡Nathaniel Kern & Matthew Reed, “Why the Arab League Matters,” Middle
East Policy Council, March 2012.
41.â•‡“Qatar-Algeria Relations Under Strain,” Gulf States Newsletter, 35(914),
9 December 2011, p.â•–1.
Â€
42.â•‡Ibid., p.â•–7.
43.â•‡“Saudi Prince’s Swipe at Tiny Qatar Draws Riposte,” Reuters, 29 August Â€
2013.
44.â•‡“Arab League Expels Syria over Failure to End Bloodshed,” The Guardian,
13 November 2011.
Â€

46.â•‡“Syria Unrest: Arab League Observer Mission Head Quits,” BBC News,
12 February 2012.
Â€
47.â•‡“Qatar’s Emir Suggests Sending Troops to Syria,” Al Jazeera Online,

14 January 2012.
Â€
48.â•‡“Saudi Arabia Backs Arming Syrian Opposition,” The Guardian, 24 February

Â€
2012.
49.â•‡“Syria: Arab League Monitors Have Made Mistakes, Says Qatari Prime
Minister,” Daily Telegraph, 6 January 2012.
Â€

51.â•‡“Divisions Laid Bare as Arab League Tackles Syria,” BBC News, 29 March Â€
2012.
52.â•‡“Qatar Crosses the Syrian Rubicon: £63m to Buy Weapons for the Rebels,”
The Guardian, 1 March 2012.
Â€

54.â•‡“Qatar Accuses Syrian Government of Genocide After Failed Truce,” CNN,
30 October 2012.
Â€
55.â•‡Kristian Coates Ulrichsen, “The Gulf States and Syria,” Open Democracy,
11 February 2013.
Â€
56.â•‡“Rebel Arms Flow is Said to Benefit Jihadists in Syria,” New York Times,
14 October 2012.
Â€
57.â•‡Rania Abouzeid, ‘Syria’s Secular and Islamist Rebels: Who Are the Saudis
and Qataris Arming?” Time, 18 September 2012.
Â€
58.â•‡Elizabeth Dickinson, “Kuwait ‘the Back Office of Logistical Support’ for

Syria’s Rebels,” The National, 5 February 2013.
Â€
204
NOTES pp. [139–148]
59.â•‡ “ Qatar’s Role as Peace Broker in Syria at Risk,” The National, 24 September
Â€
2012.
60.â•‡Michael Stephens, “Qatar’s Public Diplomacy Woes,” Open Democracy,
4 February 2013.
Â€
61.â•‡“Syrian Opposition Meets to Seek Unity,” New York Times, 8 November Â€
2012.
62.â•‡“With Eye on Aid, Syria Opposition Signs Unity Deal,” New York Times,
11 November 2012.
Â€
63.â•‡“Syria Opposition Moves to Unite,” Wall Street Journal, 11 November 2012.

Â€
64.â•‡“Syrian Opposition Meets to Seek Unity,” New York Times, 8 November Â€
2012.
65.â•‡Dickinson, “Kuwait.”
66.â•‡Coates Ulrichsen, “Gulf States and Syria.”
67.â•‡Sultan Barakat and Steven Zyck, “Gulf State Assistance to Conflict-Affected
Environments,” LSE Kuwait Programme Working Paper No.â•–10, July 2010,
p.â•–24.
68.â•‡“UN Not Disappointed with UAE Decision to Send Own Aid,” The
National, 7 February 2013.
Â€
69.â•‡Coates Ulrichsen, “Gulf States and Syria.”

70.â•‡“How Qatar Seized Control of the Syrian Revolution,” Financial Times,
17 May 2013.
Â€
71.â•‡“Qatar Steadfast in its Support for Islamist Groups,” Gulf States Newsletter,
37(946), 9 May 2013, pp.â•–3–4.
Â€
72.â•‡“US Wary as Qatar Ramps Up Support of Syrian Rebels,” NPR, 26 April Â€
2013.
73.â•‡Ibid.
74.â•‡“Syrian Opposition Chooses Saudi-Backed Leader,” Reuters, 6 July 2013.
Â€
75.â•‡Blake Hounshell, “The Qatar Bubble: Can This Tiny, Rich Emirate Really
Solve the Middle East’s Thorniest Political Conflicts?” Foreign Policy, May/
June 2012.
76.â•‡“Qatar’s Influence Increases in the Middle East,” The Guardian, 15 December Â€
2011.
6.â•‡POST-ARAB SPRING CHALLENGES AND IMPLICATIONS

1.â•‡J.E. Peterson, “Qatar’s International Role: Branding, Investment and Policy
Â€
Projection,” Norwegian Peacebuilding Resource Centre (NOREF) Policy Brief,

February 2013, p.â•–1.
2.â•‡Bernard Haykel, “Qatar’s Foreign Policy,” Norwegian Peacebuilding Resource
Centre (NOREF) Policy Brief, February 2013, p.â•–1.
Mediterranean Politics, 17(2), July 2012, p.â•–239.
205
pp. [148–155] NOTES
4.â•‡Andrew Cooper and Bessma Momani, “Qatar and Expanded Contours of
Small State Diplomacy,” The International Spectator: Italian Journal of
5.â•‡Amy Myers Jaffe, “The Americas, Not the Middle East, Will be the World
Capital of Energy,” Foreign Policy, September/October 2011.
6.â•‡Ibid.
7.â•‡“Qatar Makes First New Gas Find in Over 40 Years,” Reuters, 10 March Â€
2013.
8.â•‡“Analysts Forecast Australia May Become World’s Largest LNG Exporter
by 2018,” International Business Times, 10 April 2012.
Â€
9.â•‡“Outlook for LNG is Far From Clear,” Investors Chronicle, 19 September Â€
2013.
10.â•‡“European, Asian LNG Buyers Teaming Up to Push Cheaper Prices,”
Reuters, 10 September 2013; “Japan Hungry for Canada’s LNG Exports,”
Â€
Calgary Herald, 27 September 2013.

Â€
11.â•‡Paul Sullivan, “Blowback to Qatar,” World Policy Blog, 18 July 2013.

Â€
12.â•‡Personal interview with an expatriate academic at Qatar University, United

States, October 2013.
13.â•‡“Analysis: Secret Recordings Suggest Growing Tensions over Energy Policy,”
BBC News, 14 November 2012.
Â€
14.â•‡“Is Qatar Fuelling the Crisis in North Mali?” France 24, 23 January 2013.
Â€
15.â•‡Mehdi Lazar, “Qatar Intervening in Northern Mali?” Open Democracy,

19 December 2012.
Â€
16.â•‡Michael Lambert and Jason Warner, “Who is Ansar Dine?” CNN Global
Post, 14 August 2012.
Â€
17.â•‡“Is Qatar Fuelling the Crisis in North Mali?” France 24, 23 January 2013.
Â€
18.â•‡“France Launches Unprecedented Campaign Against Qatar Role in Mali,”

Middle East Online, 4 February 2013.
Â€
19.â•‡“Is Criticism of Qatar, World Cup 2022 Host, Justified?” ESPN Soccernet,
18 April 2013.
Â€
20.â•‡“Islamists Plot against Gulf, says Dubai Police Chief,” AFP, 25 March 2012.
Â€
21.â•‡“Muslim Brotherhood Plans to Take Over Kuwait by 2013: Khalfan,”

Kuwait Times, 18 April 2012.
Â€
22.â•‡“Emirati Nerves Rattled by Islamists’ Rise,” The Guardian, 12 October Â€
2013.
23.â•‡“‘Brotherhood Sowing Subversion in Gulf States’,” Reuters, 3 April 2013. Â€
24.â•‡“UAE Court Jails Scores of Emiratis in Coup Plot Trial,” Reuters, 2 July Â€
2013.
25.â•‡Lori Plotkin Boghardt, “The Muslim Brotherhood on Trial in the UAE,”
Washington Institute for Near East Policy, Policy Watch no.Â€2064, 12 April Â€
2013.
206
NOTES pp. [156–163]
26.â•‡Birol Baskan, “The Police Chief and the Sheikh,” The Washington Review of
Turkish and Eurasian Affairs, April 2012, available online at http://www.
thewashingtonreview.org/articles/the-police-chief-and-the-sheikh.html
(accessed 13 April 2013).Â€
27.â•‡“Qaradawi’s Comments Spark Spat Between UAE and Egypt,” Gulf States
Newsletter, 36(920), 22 March 2013, p.â•–4.
Â€
28.â•‡“Islamist Ascendance Raises Tensions in the Gulf,” Oxford Analytica Daily

Brief, 1 November 2012.
Â€
29.â•‡“Qatar Steadfast in its Support for Islamist Groups,” Gulf States Newsletter,
37(946), 5 May 2013, p.â•–3.
Â€
30.â•‡Bassam Sabry, “Why Qatar Supports Egypt, Why Many Egyptians Aren’t
Excited,” Al-Monitor, 17 April 2013. Â€
31.â•‡“France/Qatar: Bilateral Relations,” Oxford Analytica Daily Brief, 22 October Â€
2012.
32.â•‡“Qatar to Relocate French SMEs as Part of US$389m Fund,” Arabianbusiness.
com, 9 October 2012.
Â€
33.â•‡“Qatari Cash Divides Paris Opinion,” Al Jazeera Online, 17 October 2012.

Â€
34.â•‡“Qatar to Relocate French SMEs as Part of US$ 389m Fund,” Arabianbusiness.

com, 9 October 2012.
Â€
35.â•‡“France Set to Unblock Qatar’s $65m Fund,” Arabianbusiness.com,

24 September 2012.
Â€
36.â•‡Michael Stephens, “Qatar’s Public Diplomacy Woes,” Open Democracy,

4 February 2013.
Â€
12 April 2011.
Â€
38.â•‡“Qatari Activists Publish Blueprint for Reform,” Al-Monitor, 13 October Â€
2012.
39.â•‡“Qatar: Meteoric Growth Must Not Distract from ‘Severe Human Rights
Shortcomings’,” International Bar Association, 5 April 2013.
Â€
40.â•‡“Interview with Dr. Ali Khalifa Al Kuwari, author of ‘The People Want
Â€
Reform…in Qatar, Too’,” Heinrich Böll Stiftung, October 2012, http://

www.lb.boell.org/web/52–1170.html (accessed 18 April 2013).
Â€
41.â•‡Ibid.
42.â•‡Ibid.
43.â•‡“Qatar: Meteoric Growth Must Not Distract from ‘Severe Human Rights
Shortcomings’,” International Bar Association, 5 April 2013.
Â€
44.â•‡“Qatari Poet Sentenced to Life in Prison,” Wall Street Journal, 29 November

Â€
2012.
45.â•‡“Court Sentences Poet to Life,” Gulf States Newsletter, 36(937), 6 December
Â€
2012, p.â•–6.
46.â•‡“Qatar: Poet’s Conviction Violates Free Expression,” Human Rights Watch,
4 December 2012.
Â€
207
pp. [163–170] NOTES
47.â•‡“Jailed Qatari Poet to Appeal Life Sentence,” Al Jazeera Online, 10 March Â€
2013.
48.â•‡“Poet’s Life Sentence Cut to 15 Years,” Gulf States Newsletter, 37(942),
7 March 2013, p.â•–10.
Â€
49.â•‡Justin Gengler, “The Political Costs of Qatar’s Western Orientation,” Middle

East Policy, 19(4), 2012, p.â•–69.
50.â•‡Ibid., p.â•–71.
51.â•‡“Qatar to Hold First National Election,” The Guardian, 1 November 2011.
Â€
52.â•‡Personal interviews, Doha, December 2011.

53.â•‡Hassan Abdelrehim Al Sayed, “High Time for Shura Council Polls,” The
Peninsula, 23 May 2013.
Â€
54.â•‡Lahdan bin Isa Al Mohannadi, “Citizens must be part of decision-making,”

The Peninsula, 23 May 2013.
Â€
55.â•‡Personal observation, Qatar, May 2013.

56.â•‡“Qatar Emir Hands Power to Son, No Word on Prime Minister,” Reuters,
25 June 2013.
Â€
57.â•‡“An Outpouring of Reactions over Pork in Qatar,” Doha News, November

2011.
58.â•‡“Qataris Campaign Against Sale of Pork in Doha,” Gulf News, 23 November
Â€
2011.
59.â•‡“Qatar Suspends Liquor License,” Gulf States Newsletter, 35(915), 12 January
Â€
2012.
60.â•‡“Pearl-Qatar Alcohol Ban Won’t Last—Gordon Ramsay,” Arabianbusiness.
com, 9 January 2013.
Â€
61.â•‡Personal interviews with Qatari public and private sector employees, Doha,
December 2011.
62.â•‡“University Switch to Arabic a ‘Bombshell’,” Gulf States Newsletter, 36(917),
9 February 2012.
Â€
63.â•‡Gengler, “Qatar’s Western Orientation,” p.â•–71.

64.â•‡“Switch to Arabic.”
65.â•‡Gengler, “Qatar’s Western Orientation,” p.â•–71.
66.â•‡Michael Stephens, “Arab Gulf States Struggle Against Islamists,” Al-Monitor,
22 April 2013.
Â€
67.â•‡David Roberts, “Qatar: Domestic Quietism, Elite Adventurism,” in Fatima

Ayub (ed.), What Does the Gulf Think About the Arab Awakening? (London:
European Council on Foreign Relations Gulf Analysis, April 2013), p.â•–11.
68.â•‡“Qatar’s Biggest Mosque to be Named After Imam Muhammad ibn Abdul-
Wahab,” Qatar News Agency, 13 December 2011.
Â€
69.â•‡“Beer ‘Must be Sold’ at Brazil World Cup, Says FIFA,” BBC News, 19 January
Â€
2012.
208
NOTES pp. [174–181]
EPILOGUE: QATAR UNDER Emir TAMIM
1.â•‡Kristian Coates Ulrichsen, “Foreign Policy Implications of the Emir’s
Succession in Qatar,” Norwegian Peacebuilding Resource Centre (NOREF)
Policy Brief, 11 September 2013, p.â•–1.
Â€
2.â•‡“Text: Qatari Emir’s Abdication Speech,” Reuters, 25 June 2013. Â€
3.â•‡Kristian Coates Ulrichsen, “Qatar’s Historic Transition,” Houston Chronicle,

25 June 2013.
Â€
4.â•‡Sami Nader, “Emir Signals Change by Replacing Head of Qatar Investment

Authority,” Al-Monitor, 12 July 2013. Â€
5.â•‡“The Disappearance of Hamad bin Jassim,” Gulf States Newsletter, 37(954),

19 September 2013, p.â•–1.
Â€
6.â•‡Ibid.
7.â•‡“Population of Qatar Set to Reach 2.2 Million by 2014: QNB,” Qatar
Tribune, 15 September 2013.
Â€
8.â•‡“Deloitte Report Details Qatar’s $200bn+ Investment in Infrastructure,”

Inside World Football, 11 July 2013. Â€
9.â•‡“Qatar’s Megaproject Mayhem,” Gulf States Newsletter, 37(956), 17 October Â€
2013, p.â•–12.
10.â•‡Personal interviews with expatriate Qatar-based academics, United States,
October 2013.
11.â•‡“Qatar World Cup Construction ‘Will Leave 4000 Migrant Workers Dead’,”
The Guardian, 26 September 2013.
Â€
12.â•‡Editorials and articles in The Guardian between 25 and 27 September 2013.

Â€
13.â•‡“Man Arrested for Filming Qatar Sites,” CNN, 14 October 2013. Â€
14.â•‡“More Than 500 Indian Workers Have Died in Qatar Since 2012, Figures
Show,’ The Guardian, 18 February 2014. Â€
15.â•‡Coates Ulrichsen, “Foreign Policy Implications,” p.â•–3.

16.â•‡“Qatar Plans to Remain Centre Stage,” Gulf States Newsletter, 37(955),
3 October 2013, p.â•–1.
Â€
17.â•‡“US Joins UAE, Qatar and EU in Egypt Crisis Mediation,” The National,
6 August 2013.
Â€
18.â•‡“Freed Lebanese, Turkish Hostages Fly Home After Deal,” Reuters,

20 October 2013.
Â€
19.â•‡Michael Stephens, “The Egyptian Crisis and its Regional Effects,” Open
Democracy, 9 July 2013.
Â€
20.â•‡“Morsi’s Fall Prompts ‘Re-Set’ in Gulf ’s Ties with Egypt,” Oxford Analytica,
9 July 2013.
Â€
21.â•‡‘3 States Recall Their Envoys from Qatar,’ Associated Press, 5 March 2014. Â€
22.â•‡‘Saudi Arabia, Bahrain and UAE Recall Envoys from Qatar,’ Economist
Intelligence Unit, 5 March 2014. Â€
209
pp. [182–183] NOTES
23.â•‡‘Egypt’s Muslim Brotherhood Finds Havens Abroad,’ Washington Post,
6 November 2013.
Â€
24.â•‡‘UAE, Saudi Arabia and Bahrain Recall Their Ambassadors from Qatar,’
Gulf News, 5 March 2014.
Â€
25.â•‡“Egypt Adjourns Al Jazeera Trial,” Al Jazeera Online, 20 February 2014.

Â€
26.â•‡“Egypt Closes Al Jazeera Affiliate,” Al Jazeera Online, 3 September 2013.

Â€
27.â•‡“Al Jazeera to Prosecute Egypt State TV for Ghana Match Broadcast,” Ahram
Online, 16 October 2013.
Â€
28.â•‡“Egypt Warns Qatar About Interference,” Al-Monitor, 26 January 2014.

Â€
210
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Newspaper & Magazine Reports

Canada
Calgary Herald
China
News of the Communist Party of China
People’s Daily Online
Egypt
Egypt Independent
Ahram Online
France
AFP
France 24
Kuwait
Arab Times
Kuwait Times
Lebanon
Daily Star
Qatar
Al Jazeera
Doha News
220
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Gulf Times
Qatar News Agency
Qatar Tribune
QNRF Newsletter
The Peninsula
Russia
Interfax Global Energy Services
Saudi Arabia
Arab News
Sudan
Sudan Tribune
United Arab Emirates

Arabian Business
Gulf News
The National
United Kingdom
BBC News
Daily Mail
Financial Times
Gulf States Newsletter
Investors Chronicle
Inside World Football
Jane’s Intelligence Review
Open Democracy
Reuters
The Daily Telegraph
The Economist
The Guardian
The Independent
United States
Al-Monitor
CNN
ESPN
Forbes
Foreign Policy
221
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Houston Chronicle
International Business Times
Knowledge@Wharton
New York Times
NPR
Wall Street Journal
Washington Post
World Policy Review
Yemen
Yemen Post
Yemen Times
222
INDEX
Abdul Jalil, Mustafa 39, 129 Al-Hasa 16

Abu Dhabi 3, 15, 20, 22, 29, 30, Al-Hujailan, Jamil 29
33, 38, 53, 61, 62, 64, 70, 141, Al Jazeera 1, 3, 8, 17, 31, 35, 37,
155, 156, 181 38, 47, 48–49, 50–51, 55, 68,
Afghanistan 35, 40, 44, 48, 66, 71, 71, 108, 109, 110, 111, 117,
76, 77, 79, 83, 108, 113 122, 124, 125, 131, 132, 148,
African Union 91 154, 156, 160, 161, 163, 168,
Ahmedinejad, Mahmoud 72, 73 182, 183
Airbus 87 Al Jazeera English 49–50, 182, 183
Al-Ahmar, Ali Mohsen 117 Al Jazeera Mubasher Misr 51, 182
Al-Ajami, Mohammed ibn al-Dheeb Al Jazeera Sport 60, 182
162–163 Al-Khalifa, Hamad bin Isa 3, 32,
Al-Assad, Asma 109 53, 175
Al-Assad, Bashar 1, 3, 9, 91, 108, Al-Khalifa, Khalid bin Ahmed 118
112, 131, 132, 137, 143, 144, Al-Khelaifi, Nasser 60
155 Al-Kuwari, Ali Khalifa 25, 160–161
Al-Assad, Hafiz 102 Al-Maktoum, Rashid bin Said 20
Al-Assad, Maher 132 Al-Maliki, Nouri 133, 135, 137
Al-Attiyah, Hamad bin Ali 128, 129 Al-Mani 18
Al-Attiyah, Khalid bin Mohamed Al-Megrahi, Abdelbaset 122
73, 143, 175 Al-Missned, Mozah bint Nasser 9,
Al-Banna, Hassan 102 52, 74, 80, 82, 84, 109, 117,
Al-Bashir, Omar 69, 92 162, 174
Al-Dabi, Mohammed 135 Al-Nahyan, Abdullah bin Zayed
Algeria 76, 77, 124, 127, 135, 146, 118, 119, 154
152, 184 Al-Nahyan, Mohammed bin Zayed
Al-Hajri, Abdullah 125 141
223
INDEX
Al-Nahyan, Zayed bin Sultan 33 Al-Thani, Hamad bin Khalifa 1, 3,

Al-Nuaimi, Najeeb 105, 162 9, 13, 26, 28, 29, 31, 33, 35, 37,
Al-Qaeda 40, 77 40, 46, 48, 52, 58, 67, 68, 69,
Al-Qaradawi, Yusuf 51, 78, 101, 74, 75, 76, 80, 81, 82, 93, 94,
103, 119, 154, 156 101, 108, 111, 112, 113, 114,
Al-Qassemi, Sultan Souud 51, 132 118, 131, 135, 137, 143, 145,
Al-Sabah, Mubarak 16 147, 149, 162, 163, 164, 165,
Al-Sabah, Sabah al-Ahmed 80, 182 169, 173, 174, 180
Al-Sabbagh, Mustafa 142, 143 Al-Thani, Jabir bin Hamad 89
Al-Salabi, Ali 78, 127 Al-Thani, Jassim bin Hamad 82, 88
Al-Salabi, Ismael 78, 127 Al-Thani, Jassim bin Mohamed 16,
Al-Saud, Abdul Aziz 16, 18 39
Al-Saud, Abdullah bin Abdul Aziz Al-Thani, Khalifa bin Hamad 19,
143, 175, 181 26, 28, 29
Al-Saud, Bandar bin Sultan 75, 135 Al-Thani, Mohammed bin Thani
Al-Saud, Faisal bin Turki 15 15, 81
Al-Saud, Khalid bin Sultan 27 Al-Thani, Tamim bin Hamad 8, 9,
Al-Saud, Nayef bin Abdul Aziz 116 10, 40, 41, 58, 81, 83, 84–85,
Al-Saud, Saud al-Faisal 80, 136, 142 90, 96, 119, 147, 165, 167, 169,
Al-Saud, Sultan bin Abdul Aziz 116 173, 174, 176, 178, 179, 180,
Al-Sayed, Ahmad Mohamed 175 181, 182, 184
Al-Shaheen Oilfield 64 Al-Udeid airbase 77
Al-Sisi, Abdel Fattah 180 Anglo-Persian Oil Company 18
Al-Thani, Abdullah bin Jassim 18, Annan, Kofi 137, 138
28 Ansar Dine 152, 153, 154
Al-Thani, Abdullah bin Khalid 40 Arab Games 39, 58
Al-Thani, Abdullah bin Khalifa 81 Arab-Israeli War (1973) 24
Al-Thani, Abdullah bin Hamad 175 Arab League 20, 21, 74, 76, 91, 92,
Al-Thani, Abdullah bin Nasser 40, 114, 115, 124, 133–135, 136,
175, 176 138, 156, 174
Al-Thani, Ahmed bin Ali 19, 20, 25 Arab public sphere 17
Al-Thani, Ahmed bin Jassim 50 Arab Finance House 88
Al-Thani, Ali bin Abdullah 19, 28 Arab Spring 1, 2, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10,
Al-Thani, Al-Mayassa bint Hamad 49, 50, 53, 55, 59, 61, 66, 67,
83 80, 85, 88, 92, 93, 95, 99, 100,
Al-Thani, Hamad bin Jassim 1, 9, 101, 103, 104, 105, 106, 108,
13, 28, 32, 35, 46, 67, 68, 71, 109, 110, 112, 113, 114, 115,
74, 79, 80, 81, 82, 84, 86, 88, 118, 121, 122, 130, 131, 134–35,
89, 93, 94, 95, 108, 111, 112, 144, 145, 146, 147, 148, 151,
113, 115, 117, 119, 122, 124, 156, 159, 163, 168, 169, 173,
135, 139, 143, 144, 145, 169, 175, 177, 179, 180–181, 182,
173, 175, 176, 180 183, 184
224
INDEX
Arab Youth Survey 104 Budget deficit 26

Argentina 43 Bulgaria 123
Asian Cup 58 Bul Hanine 23
Asian Games 58, 84 Bush, George H.W. 27
Aspire Academy 57, 58 Bush, George W. 40, 49, 71, 114,
Australia 150 148
Ayoub, Tariq 49 Business diplomacy 68, 88, 176
Azawad 152
Cambodia 83
Bahrain 5, 7, 9, 14, 15, 20, 21, 22, Canada 149, 150
23, 29, 31, 32, 34, 38, 53, 61, Carter Doctrine 21
72, 80, 99, 101, 104, 115, 116, Carter, Jimmy 21
117, 118, 125, 154, 174, 175, CBS News 32, 136
177, 181 Central Asia 150
Bahrain Grand Prix 61, 62 Central Command (US) 40, 71, 72,
Bani Murra 30 77, 148
Bani Utub 14 Central Municipal Council 31
Bangladesh 83 Chad 82, 92
Barclays Bank 47 Chatham House 5
Basra 16 Chengyu, Fu 42
Batistuta, Gabriel 60 Chile 44
Belhadj, Abdelhakim 127, 128, 130, China 32, 42, 43, 44, 46, 87, 95,
152 133, 134, 148
Ben Ali, Zine el Abidine 5, 49, 105, China National Offshore Oil
107, 110 Corporation 42, 148
Benghazi 2, 123, 124, 126, 129, Clean Development Mechanism 64
131 Clean energy 8, 38, 64–66
Bin Ghaith, Nasser 53, 54 Clinton, Hillary 139
Bin Laden, Osama 35, 48, 71, 77 Confucius Institute 44
Bin Said, Qaboos 80 Creek 151
Bin Talal, Hasan 65
Blatter, Sepp 56, 59, 178 Darfur 9, 67, 82, 88, 90, 91–92,
Bouazizi, Mohamed 1, 5, 59, 99, 93, 99, 108, 130, 135
105, 132 Darwish 18
Booth, John Wilkes 72 Davidson, Christopher 54
Brahimi, Lakhdar 138 Demographic imbalance 105
Brazil 43, 46, 133, 149, 170 Dera’a 132
BRIC 46 Desir, Harlem 153
British Library 54 Dhofar 21
British protectorate 16, 19 Diamond League 58
British Thermal Units 150 Djibouti 82
225
INDEX
Doha Agreement 91, 99, 109 Falk, Richard 133–134

Doha Centre for Media Freedom Fatah 70
54–55, 78 FC Barcelona 60
Doha Climate Change Conference Federal Bureau of Investigation 40
63, 94, 168 Federer, Roger 59
Doha Debates 53 FIFA 1, 56, 59, 99, 170, 178
Doha Masters 60 Financial Conduct Authority 47
Doha News 55 Financial Times 82, 142
Doha Players Theatre 40 Fiscal sustainability 176, 177
Dubai 3, 18, 20, 38, 47, 53, 54, 61, First World War 16
62, 63, 86, 102, 119, 154, 155, Ford’s Theatre 72
167 Foreign direct investment 44
Dubai Agreement 20 France 124, 126, 146, 152, 153,
Dubai Initiative 62 157, 158, 159, 169
Dubai Ports World 159 Free Syrian Army 133, 138
Friends of Syria 135, 137
Education City 34, 52, 83
Friends of Yemen 117
Egypt 1, 5, 22, 37, 44, 50, 55, 73,
Fuwairat 15
74, 76, 89, 91, 99, 100, 102,
103, 105, 108, 109, 110, 118,
G-20 46
119, 130, 132, 146, 151, 154,
Gaddafi, Muammar 2, 5, 9, 58, 78,
156, 157, 161, 170, 171, 173,
89, 92, 93, 111, 112, 121, 122,
179, 180, 182, 183, 184
123, 124, 125, 126, 128, 130,
Egyptian Radio and Television
Union 183 131, 133, 135, 152, 163–164
Egyptian Television Network 182 Gao 152
Emirates 3, 61, 62 Gas-to-Liquids 31, 65, 87, 88
Emiri Diwan 25 Gaza 49, 70, 74, 75, 83, 108, 109,
Energy City Qatar 65 132
England 56 General Maritime Treaty 15
Ennahda 88 Germany 133
Enron Corporation 73 Ghana 183
Erdogan, Racep Tayyip 180 Ghonim, Wale 106
Eritrea 82 Ghouta chemical attack 143
Etihad 3, 61, 62 Globalisation 4, 34, 45, 77, 78, 95,
European Commission 23 113, 148
European Union 123 Global Governance Group 46
Extractive Industries Transparency Global Redesign Initiative 46
Initiative 63 Graham, Lindsay 179
ExxonMobil 32 Great Depression 17, 18
Green Economy 65
Fahmy, Nabil 183 Green Movement 73
226
INDEX
Guardiola, Pep 60 Industries Qatar 87

Guildford 151 International Bar Association 160
Gulf Air 61 International Contact Group on
Gulf Aviation 61 Libya 126
Gulf Cooperation Council 2, 5, 22, International Court of Arbitration
23, 27, 28, 29, 59, 60, 68, 69, 177
109, 115, 116, 117, 118, 125, International Court of Justice 33
132, 140, 146, 156, 170, 174, International Criminal Court 69, 92
175, 178, 179, 180, 181, 182 International Crisis Group 125
Gulf Research Centre 62 International Monetary Fund 87
Gulf War (1980–88) 22, 24, 27 International Renewable Energy
Gulf War (1991) 27, 73, 77 Agency 64
Gulf War (2003) 35, 78 International Trade Union
Confederation 178
Hague, William 174 Iran 17, 21, 22, 23, 24, 32, 59, 69,
Haiti 44 70, 72, 73, 75, 118, 119, 132,
Hamad International Airport 43, 144, 148, 154
Iranian revolution 21, 24
62, 177
Iraq 17, 21, 22, 23, 27, 35, 40, 41,
Hama 132
48, 66, 68, 70, 71, 79, 83, 107,
Hamas 70, 74, 75, 85, 132
108, 113, 125, 134, 137
Haniya, Ismail 74
Iraq Petroleum Company 18
Hammam, Mohammed bin 57
Islah 102, 119, 155
Hawar islands 31, 33
Islamic Constitutional Movement
Healey, Denis 20
102
Heath, Edward 20 Israel 49, 59, 72, 73, 74, 75, 76,
Heinrich Boll Stiftung 161 108, 109, 116, 148
Hezbollah 74, 91, 109, 132
Higher Council for Planning 26 Jabhat al-Nusra 143
Hitto, Ghassan 142, 143 Japan 18, 24, 32, 42, 43, 148, 150
Homs 134 Jarba, Ahmad 143
Hollande, Francois 152, 153, 158 Jasmine Revolution 162
Houthi rebellion 90 Jibril, Mahmoud 126
Howell, David 150–151 Jintao, Hu 44
Human Rights Watch 162 Jordan 3, 73, 85, 132
Hurricane Katrina 71, 95
Hussein, Saddam 22, 125, 162 KA-CARE 64
Hydraulic fracturing 149 Kashmir 77
KAUST 64
Idlib 140 Katara 60
India 44, 46, 95, 133, 150 Kerry, John 274
Indonesia 32, 83 Khafiji, Battle of 27
227
INDEX
Khalfan, Dhahi 119, 154–155, 156 Madani, Abbasi 127

Khalifa International Stadium 58 Mahandah 19
Khanfar, Wadah 49 Mali 142, 146, 151–153, 159, 169
Khomeini, Ruhollah 22 Manama Security Dialogue 62
Khor al-Udeid 30 Masdar 64
Kilo, Michel 141 Mecca Agreement 70
Ki-Moon, Ban 136 Medelci, Mourad 135
Kuwait 5, 6, 14, 15, 16, 18, 19, 21, Mediation 2, 9, 67, 68, 70, 79, 82,
22, 23, 24, 27, 34, 41, 45, 61, 88, 90, 99, 109, 117, 130, 145,
64, 71, 72, 77, 80, 87, 90, 102, 169, 179
103, 104, 115, 119, 125, 138, Menard, Robert 54, 55
140, 141, 148, 154, 155, 173, Meshaal, Khaled 85
177, 180 MICE 61
Kuwait Airways 61 Micro-state 4, 41
Kyoto Protocol 64 Migrant labour 146, 170, 178
Misrata 129
Lavrov, Sergei 134
Morocco 3, 105, 107
Lebanon 9, 67, 74, 82, 83, 88, 90,
91, 94, 109, 130, 134, 137, 180 Morsi, Mohamed 51, 89, 90, 146,
LeBaron, Joseph 50 171, 173, 180, 181
Leboeuf, Frank 60 Movement for Unity and Jihad in
Le Canard Enchaine 152 West Africa 152
LEED 65 Mubarak, Hosni 5, 50, 105, 106,
Lee Kuan Yew 87 108, 123, 183
Lehman Brothers 47 Museum of Islamic Art 54
Le Pen, Marine 153, 159 Muslim Brotherhood 6, 8, 10, 51,
Libya 1, 5, 7, 9, 39, 55, 58, 78, 85, 78, 85, 89, 90, 100, 101, 102,
88, 89, 93, 99, 100, 101, 103, 103, 118, 119, 138, 139, 142,
108, 111, 112, 114, 115, 118, 143, 146, 154, 155, 156, 157,
121–131, 133, 139, 143, 146, 158, 170, 171, 173, 174, 179,
152, 154, 168, 173, 183 180, 181, 182, 183
Libyan Islamic Fighting Group 127 Myers, Amy Jaffe 149
Libya TV 125
Lincoln, Abraham 72 Nadal, Rafael 60
Liquefied Natural Gas 2, 13, 31, 32, Nader, Sami 176
41, 43, 46, 47, 65, 79, 90, 94, Nafusa Mountains 127, 128, 129
117, 148, 149–150, 151, 176 Najd 16
Lockerbie bombing 122 Nasr, Vali 131
Lonely Planet 3 Nasser, Gamal Abdul 48, 76, 102
Longuet, Gerard 114 National Company for Petroleum
Products 25
McCain, John 179 National Coalition of Syrian
228
INDEX
Revolutionary and Opposition PetroChina 41, 148

Forces 138 Petroleum concession 18
National Movement for the Petroleum Development (Qatar) 18
Liberation of Azawad 152 Popular Front for the Liberation of
NATO 1, 114, 123, 125, 126, 128, Oman and the Arabian Gulf 21
133, 134 Public diplomacy 139
Nepal 83
New Yorker 35 Qasim, Abd al-Karim 21
Nile Capital 89 Qatar Airways 3, 8, 43, 60, 61, 62,
No-Fly Zone 123, 124 63, 87, 88, 165
Non-State actors 67 Qatari Diar 82, 87, 88, 109
North Field 23, 24, 27, 31, 32, 65, Qatar Distribution Company
72, 149 165–166
North Korea 44 Qatar and Dubai Riyal 20
Qatar Foundation 52, 53, 54, 60,
Obama, Barack 114, 131 83, 177
Oil industry 18, 24 Qatar General Petroleum Company
Olympic Games 58, 59, 84, 99 23, 24
Oman 5, 21, 22, 53, 61, 72, 73, 80, Qatar Holding 47, 82, 175
104, 177 Qinvest 82
Omni-balancing 14, 34, 70 Qatar Investment Authority 60, 82,
Organisation of the Islamic 87, 88, 89, 92, 109, 175
Conference 69, 74 Qatar Islamic Bank 82, 88
Ottoman Empire 16 Qatar Liquefied Gas Company 25
Qatar National Bank 60, 89, 176
Pahlavi, Reza Shah 21 Qatar National Day 39
Pakistan 40, 83 Qatar National Food Security
Palestine 50, 70, 74, 83, 109, 180 Programme 85, 92
Palestinian Authority 70, 75 Qatar National Library 54
Palmor, Yigal 75 Qatar National Research Fund 53
Pan-Arabism 17 Qatar National Vision 41, 84, 85,
Paris Saint-Germain 60 174
Pearl diving 17, 18 Qatar News Agency 125, 137, 169
Pearl Monument (Doha) 17 Qatar Open 59
Pe’er, Shahar 59 Qatar Petroleum 23, 64, 65, 87, 89
Pei, I.M. 54 Qatar Red Crescent 83, 152
Pelly, Lewis 15 Qatar Science and Technology Park
Peninsula Shield Force 115, 125 87
People’s Democratic Republic of Qatar Sports Investment 60
Yemen 21 Qatar Tourism Authority 60
Peres, Shimon 73 Qatar University 25, 52, 71, 84,
Perpetual Maritime Truce 15 104, 163, 167–168
229
INDEX
Qtel 87 September 11 35, 77, 78

Shale gas 149
Rabaa al-Adawiya 183 Sharjah 21
Rajab, Nabeel 54 Sheikh Mohammed, Khalid 40
Ramsay, Gordon 167 Shell 87
Ras al-Khaimah 20, 21, 102, 155, Shibam Holding 88
159 Shura (Consultative) Council 163,
Ras Laffan Industrial City 32, 42, 164, 165
43, 64–65, 149 Silatech 117
Raul 60 Singapore 46, 87
Reach Out to Asia 83, 109 Siniora, Fouad 91
Reporters without Borders 54, 55, Soft power 4, 38, 39, 83, 113–114,
161 144, 145, 147
Riyadh Security Agreement 181 Souq Waqif 17, 60
Roberts, Goronwy 19 South Hook 32, 42
Rolls-Royce 87 South Korea 32, 42, 44, 148, 150
Romario 60 South Yemen 69
Russia 46, 133, 134, 135, 144, 150 Sovereign ministries 80, 103
Sovereign wealth funds 46, 113
Sabry, Bassam 157 Spain 56
Said, Khaled 106 Special Office for Yemen Affairs 116
Saleh, Ali Abdullah 5, 50, 90–91, State branding 4, 8, 33, 38, 39, 40,
111, 116–117 43, 51, 56, 65, 67, 94, 95, 100,
Salehi, Ali Akbar 75 112, 147
Sandhurst 26 State capitalism 4, 66, 67, 79, 86,
Sarkozy, Nicholas 152, 153, 157 126
Saudi Arabia 5, 6, 17, 18, 22, 23, State-owned enterprise 87
26, 27, 29, 31, 34, 38, 45, 47, Stevens, Christopher 131
50, 64, 69, 70, 72, 73, 74, 75, Stork, Joe 162
76, 77, 78, 79, 80, 87, 90, 91, Strait of Hormuz 21
95, 100, 102, 104, 105, 109, Subtle power 5
110, 115, 116, 118, 132, 136, Sudan 69, 82, 88, 91, 92, 108, 135
138, 141, 142, 143, 146, 151, Suleiman, Michel 91
154, 156, 171, 173, 175, 177, Supreme Council of the Armed
179, 180, 181, 184 Forces 85
Saudi Arabian National Guard 27, Supreme Education Council 168
114, 125 Supreme Planning Council 26
Saudi Basic Industries Corporation Switzerland 46
87 Syria 1, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 55, 75, 76, 77,
Sawt al-Arab 48 85, 91, 94, 99, 100, 102, 103,
Sebastian, Tim 53 106, 108, 112, 114, 118, 119,
Second World War 19 121, 131–143, 146, 151, 154,
230
INDEX
155, 159, 168, 170, 171, 173, 133, 134, 136, 137, 138, 140,
175, 179, 180, 183 141, 159, 164, 168, 179
Syrian National Council 51, 133, UN Resolution 1973 111, 123,
137, 140, 141, 142 124, 125, 133
United States 16, 22, 27, 31, 41,
Tahrir Square 2, 49, 110, 124 48, 56, 68, 71, 73, 77, 78, 83,
Taiwan 44, 148 130, 137, 138, 143, 149, 150,
Taliban 76 159
Tarhouni, Ali 129 University of Washington 129
Thatcher, Margaret 150
The National 138, 140 Valcke, Jerome 170
The Peninsula 164 Villaggio fire 55–56, 161
The Shard 82
Time Magazine 138 Wahhabism 170
Toure, Amadou Toumani 151 Wakrah 15
Transitional National Council 39, War on Terror 35, 40, 48, 71, 77,
78, 89, 123, 125, 126, 128, 129 148
Tripoli 125, 127, 128, 130 Washington Consensus 66, 86, 113
Trucial States 20 Washington Security Doctrine 66,
Tunisia 1, 5, 7, 88, 89, 99, 100, 113
103, 105, 110, 118, 130, 132, West Bank 70
135, 154, 156, 161, 170, 173, West Bay 63
181, 183 WikiLeaks 50
Turkey 142, 180 Wilson, Harold 19
Twitter 5, 55, 166 Windsor, Charles 174
Woods, Tiger 60
UEFA 59 World Bank 87
UNFCCC 64 World Cup (2022) 1, 10, 56, 57,
Union of Arab Emirates 20, 32 58, 62, 63, 84, 94, 99, 100, 105,
United Arab Emirates 6, 20, 22, 24, 111, 124, 146, 167, 168, 170,
30, 33, 34, 45, 47, 53, 59, 61, 174, 176–177, 178
62, 78, 79, 90, 95, 102, 104, World Economic Forum 46
113, 115, 118, 119, 124, 125, World Values Survey 104
127, 132, 141, 143, 146, 154,
156, 157, 159, 171, 173, 179, Yemen 5, 7, 9, 50, 67, 69, 82, 83,
180, 181, 184 88, 90–91, 99, 101, 103, 106,
UAE 94 155 111, 116, 118, 130, 134, 161,
United Development Company 166 168, 173
United Kingdom 16, 19, 26, 32, YouTube 162
42, 43, 122, 124, 126, 148, 151
United Nations 20, 21, 30, 37, 49, Zakaria, Fareed 152
68, 69, 73, 74, 92, 114, 124, Zubara 14, 33
231

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QATAR AND THE ARAB SPRING

Qatar and the Arab Spring

BRIC Brazil, Russia, India and China

rights to the 2022 FIFA World Cup.

Qatar’s Rise in Context

research article in the Middle East Journal.2 Since then, extraordinary

Structure of this Book

HISTORICAL AND POLITICAL CONTEXT

Qatar’s rise to a position of international significance is rooted in its

external security and geostrategic challenges shaped the determination

State Formation and Political Consolidation

time Qatar faced a new land-based threat on the Arabian Peninsula in

Internal and External Challenges

Mahandah tribe of 6,000 members refused to pledge an oath of alle-

Harold Wilson suddenly and unexpectedly announced that the United

principle a nine-member union. Substantive negotiations followed over

proclamation of the Carter Doctrine on 23 January 1980. This began

the process of restoring the external security guarantee as it committed

immediate and ad hoc reaction to the situation of profound uncertainty

Oil and Gas

The Rise of Sheikh Hamad bin Khalifa Al-Thani

Then, taking advantage of his father’s absence on a visit to Switzerland,

Challenges Facing the New Emir

STATE-BRANDING AND THE LEVERAGING

“State-Branding” and “Soft Power”

to building coalitions of external support. In addition to reaching a

Broader Changes in the Global Order

entitled Strengthening International Cooperation in a More Interdependent

response to the systemic banking crisis that followed the collapse of

Al-Qassemi further suggested that this “love affair” extended to its

Education and culture

killed nineteen people, including thirteen small children attending the

International sporting events and global sports icons

found to be overly expensive and environmentally unsustainable.55 The

won, setting in motion profound political, economic and social upheaval

International Travel and Tourism

International Airport and the bulk purchasing of state-of-the-art long-

Clean Energy Development

DRIVERS AND MOTIVATIONS

Building on the examination of Qatari state-branding initiatives and its

Rise of an Independent Foreign Policy

â•…Animosity between the US government and Al Jazeera escalated sharply

(2001–9), and was magnified by the coincidental, if accidental, shelling

CENTCOM, Qatar would be the first target for Iranian retaliation.15

Conference in Doha in the face of concerted pressure from across the

Regional System in Flux

Washington, DC underscored the threat from non-state actors taking

ernance, and armed conflict.”40 Furthermore, the messy and protracted

Mechanics of Qatari Foreign Policy

Foreign Policy Elites

Newsletter cited one (unnamed) analyst as stating: “There has been a

opportunity to repair previously tense relations between the Hashemite

approach—namely intense personal diplomacy and engagement com-

Mediation as Foreign Policy

fighting quickly resumed, and Yemen’s then-president Ali Abdullah

date, General Michel Suleiman, president of Lebanon, and the forma-

Small States in World Politics

QATAR AND THE ARAB SPRING

Part I of this book ended by documenting Qatar’s fast-growing reputa-

Embracing Change: Qatar and Islamism

Lack of Domestic Constraints

â•… Nevertheless, the outbreak of the Arab Spring in late-December 2010

9.â•‡Jane Kinninmont, “To What Extent is Twitter Changing Gulf Societies,”

11.â•‡Allen Fromherz, Qatar: A Modern History (Georgetown: Georgetown

1.â•‡HISTORICAL AND POLITICAL CONTEXT

41.â•‡Wright, Foreign Policies with International Reach, p.â•–301.

52.â•‡Ehteshami and Wright, “Political Change in the Arab Oil Monarchies,”

64.â•‡Kamrava, “Royal Factionalism and Political Liberalization,” p.â•–403.

70.â•‡Kristian Coates Ulrichsen, “Qatar: Emergence of a Regional Power with

2.â•‡STATE-BRANDING AND THE LEVERAGING OF POWER

16.â•‡“China, Qatar in 25-Year Gas Deal,” The Peninsula, 8 March 2009.

19.â•‡“Nation Branding: Shaking Off the Korea Discount,” Knowledge@Wharton,

22.â•‡“How to Improve China’s Soft Power?” News of the Communist Party of

23.â•‡Anoushiravan Ehteshami, Globalization and Geopolitics in the Middle East:

30.â•‡Richard Youngs, “Impasse in Euro-Gulf Relations,” FRIDE Working Paper

32.â•‡Coates Ulrichsen, “Repositioning the GCC,” p.â•–237.

34.â•‡Steven Wright, “Foreign Policies with International Reach: The Case of

38.â•‡“WikiLeaks Cables Claim Al-Jazeera Changed Coverage to Suit Qatari

39.â•‡Omar Chatriwala, “What WikiLeaks Tells Us About Al Jazeera,” Foreign

40.â•‡Coates Ulrichsen, “Qatar and the Arab Spring.”

42.â•‡Anh-Hao Thi Phan, “A New Paradigm of Educational Borrowing in the

47.â•‡“The Limits to Liberalisation: A Press Row in Qatar,” The Economist, 14 May Â€

57.â•‡“Dubai Sparks International Outcry As It Bans Israeli Tennis Star From

58.â•‡“Nadal and Federer Light Up 2012 Season,” 1 January 2012, http://www.

59.â•‡“Tiger Woods Is Not Worth $3m Appearance Fee, According to Qatar

60.â•‡“Why Paris Saint-Germain’s Financial Statements Qualify as Fiction,” Forbes,