4
Abdel Razzaq Takriti
University of Houston
In one of his last interviews, Abd al-Rahman Munif (d. 2004) suggested a fascinating periodization of post-Ottoman Arab intellectual history.1 The Saudi exile, political organizer, novelist, and eminence grise of the late-twentieth century mashriqi literary scene sketched out three phases that Arabic thought had passed through, over the course of the twentieth century. The first few decades, he proposed, were marked by the rise of influential public intellectuals that were connected to visionary projects. Representative examples included Taha Hussein and Jamil Sidqi al-Zahawi, who were committed to popular education and social reform, respectively. The middle of the century was characterized by the rise of political parties and the involvement of intellectuals in them. Munif believed that these organized bodies “became stronger than individuals regardless of their qualities and positions, and the intellectual’s role grew as they moved closer to the political party and contributed to its position.” The decline of traditional parties, and the transformation of many into structures curtailing freedom of thought, led to the emergence of free-floating intellectuals who were disconnected from organized political movements, and further, defined themselves in opposition to them.2
For the purposes of this chapter, it matters little whether this periodization is “correct” in the empirical sense of the term; as in any approach to a complex and dynamic phenomenon, it is open to critique, revision, or even rejection. What is significant here is the “ordering principle” underlying the thesis: rather than classifying ages by the content of thought, Munif divides them according to the social location of intellectual activity. Through this schema the political practitioner immediately emerges as a central player in the history of Arab thought, something that is often forgotten in the scholarship on the subject.3 Likewise, by means of this classification, the central role of parties and popular movements as vehicles for intellectual formation, as well as dissemination, becomes much more evident.4
Recent contributions to intellectual history have emphasized the role of political action in shaping the contours of abstract thought,5 as well as the need to move beyond the separation between “political and moral action” and political and moral theorizing.”6 This requires underscoring the “indissoluble link between political thought and the ‘high’ political context of the time,” and rejecting the “artificial divide between ideology and political practice.”7 In line with this view, this chapter examines the emergence of Arab nationalist thought and practice through the case study of Ahmad al-Khatib, a key figure in its development in the Gulf. Besides his memoirs and articles, he has not written much; his work was mainly aimed toward praxis as opposed to theorization. Yet his intellectual energy and influence were enormous. Through his pursuit of a form of collective political action that was laden with normative content, he contributed to the transformation of the worldviews, reading habits, and practices of an entire generation of young men and women. This relied on the strength of a transnational network of political and intellectual production, comprised of an intersecting web of relations extending over the entirety of the Arab world.
Aside from the rich – and regrettably, unpublished – discussion in Falah al-Mdairis’s doctoral dissertation on the Movement of Arab Nationalists (MAN) in Kuwait, there is no detailed study of Ahmad al-Khatib.8 In English-language publications, he is mentioned in passing as one of the founders of the MAN and initiator of its activities in the Gulf.9 In Arabic sources, a more through treatment is offered, but al-Khatib still receives limited treatment in comparison with other leading MAN figures. One of the factors that conspire to obscure his legacy is the traditional focus in Arab intellectual history on written articulations of thought as opposed to institutional manifestations or mechanisms of dissemination. This reliance is augmented by the relatively belated arrival of the “contextualist” approach to the field.10 Canonical intellectual figures still receive most of the attention, and this serves to understate the extent to which positions and outlooks were in fact widely shared – as opposed to originating in one individual source – emerging out of a political sphere underlined by party experience, and buzzing with intellectual engagement with surrounding political and social realities.
In this chapter, the case of al-Khatib will be utilized to probe the emergence of Arab nationalism in Kuwait in particular, and the Gulf in general. Three major claims will be put forth, pertaining to the historical context of al-Khatib’s ideas, their intersection with political practice, and their content. First, it will be shown that these ideas cannot be understood without reference to the development of thought in early-twentieth-century Kuwait. In terms of its social basis, this development relied on the existence of a merchant community with strong transnational links to the Indian Ocean as well as the rest of the Arab East. This initially allowed for the spread of Islamic reformism, and its institutionalization in educational and civic initiatives in the first two decades of the twentieth century; subsequently, it enabled the rise of Arab nationalist orientations in the 1930s and 1940s. Rather than being diametrically opposed, these two major currents of thought were interlinked. They were also extremely responsive to broader regional events, ranging from the effort to salvage the Ottoman Empire to the attempt to aid the Palestinian cause. Regional anti-colonialism played a major part in both traditions, but so did local initiatives at limiting the political influence of the ruling family. The twin quests for achieving genuine Arab independence from European colonial domination, as well as Kuwaiti representative government, continued to be persistent themes throughout the years addressed in this study.
Second, it will be argued that, in the Gulf, ideas regarding independence and representative government were shaped by political practice. Once again, the form of this practice was determined by intimate transnational connections with the rest of the Arab East. It was here that the specific role of Ahmad al-Khatib was crucial. Not only did he acquire skills and ideas from direct engagement with political practice and thought in Lebanon and Palestine in the late 1940s and early 1950s, but he also transmitted these ideas and established an organizational basis for their expression in the form of the Kuwaiti branch of the Movement of Arab Nationalists (MAN). Empowered by the meteoric rise of Nasserism in the context of the tripartite aggression of 1956, the MAN anchored these ideas not only through the written and spoken word, but also by means of public ceremonies and performances. The experiential cultivation of Arab nationalist sentiment was just as important as its intellectual advocacy.
Third, it will be demonstrated that the ideas of al-Khatib and his comrades were extremely eclectic, drawing on a broad range of nationalist, anti-colonial, liberal, republican Jacobin, and eventually Marxist influences. Each of these traditions, which were at times seemingly contradictory, played an essential role in shaping the outlooks of the MAN. They were also adaptively approached, adjusted regularly – and sometimes radically – in line with both domestic and regional political developments. What is most significant about them, however, is that they came out of direct collective engagement with political reality. Ultimately, Al-Khatib and his comrades were less interested in abstract reflection than in praxis: the merger of theory and practice.
Islamic Reformism and Transnational Thought in the Gulf
The story of Arab nationalism in the Gulf is intimately bound up with the history of the region’s education system. In turn, modern schooling is an outcome of the region’s ties with surrounding Arab areas. This was certainly the case in Kuwait. By virtue of their economic activities as well as familial bonds, Kuwaiti merchants were deeply interconnected with neighboring Arab lands throughout the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. They accumulated substantial wealth from long-distance trade, which required knowledge, contacts, and regular travel beyond their tiny locality. Furthermore, they owned vast agricultural tracts in the Basra countryside, travelling there regularly in order to oversee their palm groves and extend the reach of their trade.11 Due to their proximity to, and close connections with, major cities in Iraq, Kuwaiti merchants witnessed the urban effects of late Ottoman and mandate period state-building efforts. They were particularly impressed by the growth of public works and the establishment of a new system of education that replaced the kuttabs with schools that taught subjects other than religion, Arabic, and basic arithmetic. They were also broadly exposed to regional and global currents of political thought.12
For these merchants crisscrossing sea routes through the Gulf and the Indian Ocean as well as the land routes across Iraq and Syria, geographic division within the bounds of tiny states was ultimately too parochial. Their lives transcended boundaries in concrete ways, and their social relations extended well beyond the town walls of old Kuwait. Likewise, these merchants – who lived mostly in the al-Qibla district – were aware of the reality of colonialism and the vulnerable state of smaller nations in a world of empires. How their transnational economic and social connections played a role in determining their worldviews can be seen by comparing them with other merchants who resided in the competing Sharq district. The latter were engaged in the geographically concentrated pearling industry and their outlooks were highly localized, worlds apart from their regionally and globally connected neighbors.13
Among the long-distance traders, several leading personalities were attracted to the version of Islamic reformism advocated by Shaykh Rashid Rida. They became familiar with Rida’s ideas and the teachings of his mentors Sayyid Jamal al-Din al-Afghani and Muhammad ʿAbduh. The lines of transmission of these ideas are particularly noteworthy here, as they did not only come from Egypt via Iraq; they also arrived by way of India.14 Kuwaitis were strongly influenced by political developments taking place there, especially among the ranks of Muslim intellectuals. From the onset of the second half of the nineteenth century, there was “particular concern” in the subcontinent “for the future of the Ottoman Empire as the last substantial power in a position to defend the integrity of Islam. This was manifest whenever the Ottoman Empire went to war.”15
Rashid Rida’s Kuwaiti friends in India included Shaykh Qasim bin Muhammad al-Ibrahim, one of the wealthiest Arab merchants in Bombay. Al-Ibrahim was part of a civic initiative to establish a modern school in Kuwait. Along with other reformers, he succeeded in securing the blessing of the ruler at the time, Sheikh Mubarak al-Sabah, for opening the school in December 1911.16 In an article published in his famous al-Manar newspaper in February 1912, Rashid Rida reported that al-Ibrahim had written to him, informing him that the new al-Mubarakiyya school committee requested his help in setting up a curriculum and selecting teachers.17 Two months later, Rida visited Kuwait as an honored guest of the ruler and the merchants. He spent a week there giving a wide range of sermons in the city’s grand mosque during the day and receiving town notables at night.18
As such, the earliest regional current to take root in Kuwait was Islamic reformism.19 This vision found an institutional grounding in the al-Mubarakiyya school, whose first principal was the early Kuwaiti Islamic reformer Sheikh Yusuf bin Isa al-Qanaʿi. It also found a home in the Charitable Association founded in 1913, which was initially led by the renowned Islamic reformer Muhammad al-Shanqiti.20 The overall focus was on the pursuit of Islamic modernism, described by one scholar as the rationalization of “religious dogma to show its consonance with modernity.”21 Epistemologically, modernist reformers sought a transformation, whereby religion would be reconciled with recent developments in the arts and sciences. This was to be done by means of establishing educational institutions that combined religious commitment with modern instruction and Arabic literary revival. Socially, reformers focused on notions of social solidarity, to be pursued through the creation of philanthropic bodies.
At the political level, theirs was an orientation calling for “just rule,” vaguely interpreted in the Kuwaiti context as protecting the position of the merchants in the face of potential attempts of the ruler to extend his power. This was coupled with a broad anti-colonial outlook oriented toward Ottomanism, grounded in the notion of strengthening the bonds of Islamic solidarity in the face of European colonialism. The appeal of such ideas on the merchants of Kuwait can be seen in the substantial fundraising campaign that they launched in Bombay in October 1912 in support of the Ottoman war effort in the Balkans. Once again, Rashid Rida reported:
I have heard from my friend the great philanthropist and prominent notable Qasim bin Mohammad al-Ibrahim the Dean of Arab traders and notables in Bombay – as well as from several other Arab men of virtue in that city – of the impact that the news of the Balkan war has had there, and of its great effect on the Muslims in general and the Arabs in particular, and their enthusiasm for raising funds to support the war effort … The Arab merchants met at the house of their leader Sheikh Qasim al-Ibrahim and they agreed to collect funds. Within only two days they had managed to raise 160,000 Rupees.22
Unsurprisingly, Ottomanism largely ended with the conclusion of the Great War and the fall of the Caliphate. Nevertheless, Islamic reformism as a movement continued, and so did its institutional efforts. These included the construction in 1921 of al-Ahmadiyya school, which was the first institution in Kuwait to teach sciences and the English language, as well as the opening in 1922 of al-Maktaba al-Ahliyya, Kuwait’s first public library. The rise in literacy and increasing interest in culture resulted in the 1924 establishment of al-Nadi al-Adabi (The Literary Club), with an initial membership of 100 young men.23 In their cumulative effect, such civic initiatives were widely perceived as setting a foundation upon which Arab nationalism could develop. In the words of the early Kuwaiti Arab nationalist figure Khalid al-ʿAdsani: “This was the nucleus out of which the intellectual and patriotic awakening emerged in Kuwait. It began, like any intellectual movement, inside schools and literary establishments, until it spread and matured, opening the eyes of the masses regarding the life of liberty and its demands.”24
Arab Nationalism in the 1930s and 1940s
Islamic reformism in Kuwait, including the version espoused by Rashid Rida and his followers, was not counterpoised to Arab nationalism at the time. “Arab feeling was implicit in Rashid Rida’s doctrine from the beginning,” as Albert Hourani noted.25 If the Ottoman Empire was becoming no more than a memory as the 1920s went on, “Arab feeling” grew considerably. Cairo, Baghdad, Beirut, and Jerusalem came to exert a much greater influence on Kuwaiti thought than Bombay or Istanbul. This was not necessarily a conscious shift, but rather an organic one that accompanied the rising prominence of Arab causes throughout the 1920s. For instance, the Egyptian movement for independence was heavily discussed and supported; members of the Literary Club closely followed the programs and policies of the Wafd and al-Watani parties, and were influenced by the ideas disseminated in the Egyptian press, including those propagated by Huda Shaʿarawi, Qasim Amin, and Safiya Zaghloul concerning women’s rights.26
Fundamental developments in the 1930s allowed Arabism to develop from a loosely formulated elite phenomenon rooted in the merchant classes during the 1920s into a popular current centered around increasingly nationalistic demands. Despite the undeniable influence of the early-twentieth-century “cultural wave” in a small town like Kuwait, it was not until the foundation of the first Education Council in 1936 that a truly “modern” school system was created, allowing for the emergence of a mass reading public. This was the first time a hierarchy of levels and classes was established and more systematic instruction was pursued, carried out by qualified teachers working in accordance with a standardized curriculum. This also signaled a shift from the influence of Islamic reformism to Arab nationalism in the education sector. Indeed, the two Kuwaitis who had pushed hardest for the creation of the Education Council were ʿAbdallah Hamad al-Saqr and Muhammad Ahmad al-Ghanim. Both of these young men, who belonged to prominent merchant families, had strong links with Iraq at the time, and were exposed to Arab nationalist currents there.27 They were part of a group of young Kuwaiti intellectuals – including ʿAbd al-Latif al-Ghanim, Yusuf al-Ghanim, Khalid al-ʿAdsani, Sarhan al-Sarhan, and Ahmad al-Saqqaf – that had joined the little known but immensely active al-Haraka al-ʿArabiyya al-Sirrya – Jamaʿat al-Kitab al-Ahmar (The Clandestine Arab Movement – The Red Book Group), a secret movement working to combat colonialism across the Arab world. Kuwait hosted one of the movement’s seven branches, the others being located in Lebanon, Syria, Palestine, Iraq, Germany, and North America.28
In October 1936, in the context of the Great Palestinian Revolt, Kuwaiti members of the group and other liberal merchants made their public debut with the Committee for the Support of Palestine. Members of that committee subsequently established the “Nationalist Youth Bloc,” which advocated for Kuwaiti political reform in a 1938 program.29 Like the other two reform movements in the Gulf – in Bahrain and Dubai – the Nationalist Youth demanded greater participation in the affairs of the country through the creation of a legislative council.30 However, unlike these two movements, they also emphasized Arab nationalism, highlighting in their charter “that the Arab nation is a single nation, and the Arab homeland is a single homeland, and it is the right of the Arab nation to practice its full sovereignty and independence.” They further stated, “Kuwait is an Arab country and an inseparable part of the greater Arab homeland.”31
These Arab nationalist beliefs were propagated through the efforts of the Education Council. Like all Kuwaiti modernization initiatives at the time, the Council was funded civically, by means of a 0.5 percent tax levied on merchants. Accordingly, the Council members had the final word when it came to the countries from which the first cohort of teachers would be brought. Despite the hesitance of the ruler, they insisted on bringing Palestinian teachers as a solidarity gesture, writing to Hajj Amin al-Husayni, the Mufti of Jerusalem and leader of the Palestinian national movement at the time, to select and send four teachers. Although the British tried to politically screen the teachers (and even refused entry to one of them), the teachers eventually arrived, bringing with them Arabist and anti-colonial ideas. It would have been difficult to imagine otherwise, considering that they came in 1936, the year of the Palestine Revolt. Exposure to these teachers had a major impact on the first cohort of children receiving modern education in Kuwait, including those coming from underprivileged backgrounds such as Ahmad al-Khatib.
Ahmad al-Khatib: Between the Gulf and Bilad al-Sham
Today, Ahmad al-Khatib is a celebrated figure in Kuwait. Known as the foremost political opposition figure in modern Gulf history, he is also one of the only remaining founders of the MAN. He can also claim a list of other honors, such as being the first Kuwaiti physician and the vice-chair of the Council that drafted the first Kuwaiti constitution. Yet he had very humble beginnings, and his intellectual formation cannot be understood in isolation from his social background, experiences, and secondary socialization. Al-Khatib was born in 1928 in the impoverished Dahla neighbourhood, which was located inside the old walls of Kuwait City, where his father worked as a gendarme for the Sheikh. Although his salary was meager, he was able to supplement it by renting out some properties he owned; accordingly, he was better off than many of his destitute neighbors. However, the father’s fortunes took a substantial turn for the worse after he lost his right arm and sustained an injury to his leg in a battle fought on behalf of the Emir. Unable to carry a weapon, he was discharged and his pay was suspended. He left behind five children when he died. After selling most of his properties, his widow, Wadha al-Khubayzi, a talented colloquial poet, was forced to work in order to feed her children. She sold textiles, and her young son Ahmad learned to make hats so as to supplement the family income. This did not always protect him from the ravages of life: “I even experienced hunger,” he would later recall, and “the hunger of children cannot be really understood except by one who has lived through it.”32 This misery, resulting from the ruler’s refusal to give a pension to support the family of a disabled veteran, was heightened further when a prominent Sheikh from the Al-Sabah ruling dynasty illegally confiscated a piece of land owned by al-Khatib’s family, depriving them of a much-needed asset. Unable to support the education of her sons, the mother informed them that they must drop out from school. Al-Khatib and his brother ʿUqab eventually appealed for help from the Director of Education, and they were given bursaries that allowed them to continue their studies.33
During his childhood, al-Khatib accumulated experiences that clearly laid the foundation for two lifelong tendencies: firm rejection of unchecked dynastic rule and a deep sensitivity to social injustice. It is important to emphasize that these did not crystallize into a coherent set of ideas until his later involvement with movement organizing. At this early stage, his political experience was limited to cultivating Arab nationalist sentiments:
In al-Mubarakiyya school I began to encounter nationalist feeling, implanted by the teachers who were coming from a Palestine that was threatened by the English and the Zionists … We especially clung to Mr. Faysal Rashid al-Tahir, because he used to stay in Kuwait during the summer, turning al-Mubarakiyya into a club for sports, entertainment, and hikes … We also lived through the Palestinian tragedy with him, especially after the 1936 revolt, and we discovered the degree to which the Palestinians were committed to Iraq due to the support that nationalist forces in that country gave to the Palestinians.34
Arab nationalism took overt forms in Kuwaiti schools during this period, which sometimes discomfited the ruler. For instance, when teachers organized a commemoration ceremony for Iraqi King Ghazi, who had assumed the status of nationalist symbol upon his death, the ruler Ahmad al-Jaber al-Sabah withdrew his two sons from the school. This did not deter the teachers from continuing to promote nationalist and anti-colonial ideas, however.35
In 1942, after completing primary and middle school in Kuwait, al-Khatib won a scholarship to complete his secondary education at the International College in Beirut. Following his graduation, he was admitted to study medicine at the American University of Beirut. There he formed a wide range of friendships with students representing the full ideological spectrum that was afforded by Beirut’s rich political diversity. These friendships transcended sectarian and national boundaries, including students from nearly every part and sect of the region.36 A particularly strong friendship that was to have an important impact on al-Khatib’s life was with Wadie Haddad, a Palestinian medical student from the city of Safad. Haddad, who is best known today as a leader of the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine, possessed immense intelligence and practical abilities. His charm was once described in the following terms:
He was a handsome and polite young man with impeccably calm mannerisms, possessing a physiognomy that was similar to a bamboo stick: lean but unbreakable. He was characterized by amiability to all those who knew him. The word yakhouy (my brother) which he used to address others was enough to gain him the confidence of all the people he met.37
Along with Haddad, al-Khatib was invited to attend al-ʿUrwa al-Wuthqa (The Firmest Bond), a cultural circle that was run by the leading theorist of Arab nationalism Professor Constantine Zurayq.38 There, he was introduced to the theory of Arab nationalism, and met some friends – notably the Palestinian George Habash and the Syrian Hani al-Hindi – with whom he was to later found the MAN.
The main event that was to transform their collective worldview was the Palestinian Nakba (catastrophe) of 1948:
On the personal level, the impact of the Nakba was so deep that it is difficult to articulate. Perhaps it gained an added intensity in my case because I found my Palestinian friends suddenly bankrupt, going every day to the border to search for their families amongst the ranks of the displaced. I experienced all of this with them. For I lived the painful and sad welcome that was given to the dispossessed, and I entered alongside them the primitive camps that had been set up for them.39
Although they had not yet graduated from medical school, al-Khatib, Haddad, and Habash treated desperate patients in the refugee camps. As he was witnessing the tragedies around him, al-Khatib shared his own small income with his two Palestinian classmates, and the bonds of their friendship grew. It was in this context that they began to think of responding to the 1948 war, convinced that it required the formation of an organized group. They were influenced by Professor Zurayq’s canonical text, The Meaning of Disaster (Maʿna al-nakba), which had just been published, and which coined the term “Nakba” (disaster or catastrophe). The intellectual influence of the text was immense, analyzing the Nakba as an outcome of the disunity of the Arab world as a whole and the absence of modernity in its constituent parts. Zurayq argued that what was needed was nothing less than “a fundamental change in the situation of the Arabs and the transformation of their modes of thought, action, and life.”40 This change could only come about on the hands of an educated pan-Arab “creative elite” that must “organize and unify itself into well-knit parties and organizations” standing on a “unified and pure doctrine,” and “bound by a strong, sound loyalty.”41
Al-Khatib and his friends sought to translate this vision into reality, establishing “The Arab Nationalist Youth” in 1949, which became the nucleus out of which the MAN emerged.42 They immediately began to expand their network, connecting with leading intellectual figures at the time, including ʿAli Nasir al-Din, the Secretary General of the Nationalist Action Group.43 They also started to extend their transnational connections, reaching out to student groups in the Syrian University in Damascus, the Nationalist Youth in Baghdad, and the Youth Movement in the Egyptian Wafd Party. The Arab Nationalist Youth became involved in struggles waged across the Arab world, ranging from solidarity action with the hunger strikes taking place against the British presence in Egypt to organizing demonstrations in Beirut in support of Morocco following the exile of Mohammad V in 1953.44 Ideologically, the members were shaped by their reading of Arab nationalist classics such as the writings of Satiʿ al-Husri and Zurayq, but also by engaging with works on the history of the Italian Risorgimento and German Unification, searching for a model that could work for the Arab world. It is unsurprising, therefore, that they were influenced organizationally by the experience of the Italian Carbonari.45
Regional Anti-Colonialism and the Foundations of Local Reform
Following his graduation from the AUB, al-Khatib briefly returned to Kuwait in 1952 before going on to study in medicine at the University of London in 1953–1954. He then returned to his homeland permanently, where he helped to build Arab Nationalist Youth cells (which were, in 1958, renamed the Movement of Arab Nationalists). In addition to this clandestine work, al-Khatib began to establish avenues for promoting Pan-Arabist thought, founding the monthly magazine al-Iman (Conviction) in early 1953. His involvement in the creation of a range of sports clubs, including al-Nadi al-Ahli, became another significant public vehicle for spreading Pan-Arabist thought and organization. Within the clubs, a cultural committee was formed whose role was to spread Pan-Arabist literature and ideas and to cultivate new cadres for the MAN. Al-Khatib supplemented this with activity in the Nationalist Cultural Club, the Graduates Club (which was established in 1954), and the Teachers Club. Eventually, this work led to the creation of the Federation of Kuwaiti Clubs in 1956, which became the main front for pan-Arabist activities in the country. In establishing this infrastructure for intellectual dissemination and political organization, al-Khatib relied on a wide range of links across the Kuwaiti social spectrum that he established energetically with the wealthy merchants and the more liberal wing of the ruling family.46 One of the main factors that facilitated the development of these links was the existence of the mercantile network out of which the first Arab nationalist and democratic reform movement developed in 1936–1938. Although coming from a broader social base that included lower middle class and working class activists, Al-Khatib and his group were seen as inheritors of that movement, and they received considerable support from its former members and sympathizers, many of whom possessed substantial financial resources as well as political and social influence.47
This work coincided with Gamal Abdel Nasser’s outreach to the rest of the Arab world, something that was enabled by the launch of Sawt al-ʿArab (Voice of the Arabs) Radio in 1953. Initially, al-Khatib and his comrades in the MAN were opposed to Nasser and the Free Officers movement. They rejected military coups as a matter of principle and would suspend any member of their organization who joined the military.48 However, the MAN’s view of Nasser gradually shifted as his anti-colonial credentials became more evident, especially through his advocacy of non-alignment and participation in the Bandung Conference of 1955, his support for struggles in the Arab Maghreb, and the launch of his campaign against the Baghdad Pact of 1955. By the time of the nationalization of the Suez Canal and the subsequent Tripartite assault on Egypt in 1956, al-Khatib and his comrades had completely altered their view of Nasser, becoming his staunchest supporters in the Gulf and across the Arab world.
During the events of 1956, Al-Khatib and his group used the network of clubs that they had carefully built over the past few years to organize the largest marches in Kuwaiti history. They were even joined by the Chief of Police, Jasim al-Qatami, who had resigned along with thirteen of his officers after being ordered to attack the demonstrators. The state was put on the defensive, unable to stem the tide of popular solidarity that was finding its organizational expression in the activities led by the MAN. A sense of the atmosphere prevailing at the time was captured by Khaled Saʿud al-Zayd, a Kuwaiti author who witnessed the events first-hand:
Al-Qatami felt that he did not need to comply with the orders of the government, which was being pressured by Nouri al-Said and frightened by his threats. He did not wish to comply with the pressures exerted by the English and the oil company. That was not his concern. For the people were angry and rebellious, and al-Khatib was leading the masses, walking with them to the oil fields to make sure that not a single drop of oil was flowing in the pipes. I saw him with my own eyes, with the masses behind him. We were walking on foot in the neverending desert. Al-Khatib was at our forefront accompanied by Sheikh Abdullah al-Jaber al-Sabah, reassuring him, and emphasizing that the intentions of the government are the same as those of the people, and that they were not going to sell oil to the enemies of the Arabs.49
Pictures of Nasser hung everywhere, and a message from al-Khatib was sent to him and read aloud on Cairo’s Sawt al-ʿArab radio station. There were boycotts of French and British goods, huge fundraisers for Egypt, a popular strike, and a successful campaign for suspending Kuwaiti oil exports.50
The work of al-Khatib and his group promoted solidarity with Egypt in 1956. In the longer term, it secured massive support for the MAN, and they became the strongest organized political force in the country. Not only did they recruit a large number of Kuwaiti cadres, but they also attracted members from Arab migrant communities, including Palestinians, Omanis, and Yemenis. All of them were introduced into the theory of Arab nationalism, committed within an organizational hierarchy and engaged in the practices of political diffusion. Under the direction of al-Khatib and other leading MAN figures, they were given a standard Arab nationalist education, centered on five types of materials: internal publications such as the bulletin al-Munadil al-Thawri (The Revolutionary Struggler) and monthly political reports; the newspapers of the Movement; publications of the Movement’s committee on thought; short essays; and books assigned for close study.51
The books were divided into two kinds: classics of Arab nationalist thought and Movement publications.52 The classics mainly included the works of al-Husri and Zurayq. Cadres were exposed to romantic theories of nationalism that extolled “the nation as a spiritual, living being” and that placed “great emphasis on the naturalness of national existence.”53 Such theoretical conceptions formed the basis of MAN’s vision:
We want a nationalist, united, liberated Arab society that would bring us economic justice with a socialist system that suits our needs; that would bring us political justice with a democratic system in which our liberty is realized; and that would bring social justice in all our institutions.54
While this vision was generally underlined by universalist anti-colonial themes and a socially progressive outlook, it was not free of nationalist alarmism. Throughout the 1950s, the movement opposed Iranian immigration to Kuwait. This stemmed from a geopolitical analysis that viewed the Shah as seeking to control the Gulf and undermine its Arab ethnic character by means of encouraging demographic change. Fear of Iranian expansionism was precipitated by historical experiences such as the annexation of the Emirate of Arabistan. In the early twentieth century, under its ruler Sheikh Khazal, the Emirate was one of Kuwait’s regional allies, that is, until it was dissolved as an autonomous region by the Iranian state in 1925 and included as the western territory of the province of Khuzestan in 1936, events keenly followed in Kuwait at the time. As the regional state structure was still taking its shape in the 1950s, claims by Kuwait’s gigantic neighbor, to Bahrain and other territories in the Gulf, caused constant anxiety. Al-Khatib declared in a 1953 article written for Al-Iman: “when we demand stopping Iranian immigration, we do not do so except because the Iranians took advantage of our weakness and severed a dear part of our homeland, and they are now preparing to swallow other parts of the Arab homeland.”55 Although this position was not driven by notions of racial supremacy, it undoubtedly contributed to local xenophobia, something al-Khatib and his comrades deeply regretted in subsequent decades.
Although the MAN advocated a transformation in social relations at this stage, it called for a “two stages of struggle” program premised on the separation of the political and the social. Initially, political struggle would be pursued, with the goals of achieving Arab unity, expelling colonialism, and liberating Palestine, which would lead to the creation of an Arab national society. Only then could social justice and economic equality be established through socialism. This program was designed in contradistinction to the ideology of the Baʿth, which advocated for the intertwinement of political and social struggles.56 The MAN defended the separation between the two spheres on the basis that long-term objectives cannot be achieved unless approached in stages.
Moreover, al-Khatib and his comrades rejected Marxism, arguing that Arab socialism would not be the outcome of class struggle but of the development of correct national consciousness.57 Deeply critical of Arab Communist parties, the MAN viewed them as agents of foreign forces and condemned their weak stance on Palestine.58 They further saw them as opposed to Arab unity and as undermining Nasser’s vision for regional change, especially in Syria and Iraq. A leaflet signed by the Nationalist Cultural Club in Kuwait illustrates this well. Issued a day after Nasser made his December 24, 1958, speech in Port Said, in which he accused the Syrian Communist Party of opposing Arab unity and thus revealing its “opportunism,” the leaflet stated:
The true colors of the opportunists that supposedly call for patriotism have now been exposed. Currently, they stand with rabid western colonialism – as they did in 1948 when they agreed to the partition of Palestine – against Arab unity and the United Arab Republic … Our struggle today aims primarily at unity and liberation, and any struggle for liberation that does not lead to unity is deficient and suspect. For unity and liberation are two intertwined principles that go hand in hand and cannot be separated. The shortest path to Tel Aviv, and the power that will crush the invaders and deter the Zionist usurpation of our land, is Arab unity.59
As is well documented in the scholarly literature, this hostility to communism declined across the Arab region in the 1960s as the MAN took a sharp turn to the left.60
At any rate, building on their success in attracting members and raising their profile, al-Khatib and his comrades expanded the work of the Kuwaiti Federation of Clubs and began to focus on disseminating anti-colonial ideas of expelling the Anglo-French presence from the Arab world and establishing Arab unity under the leadership of Nasser. These ideas were not only expressed in the MAN publications. Public festivities using images of Suez also played a major role in the spread of Nasserism in Kuwait. As David Panagia noted, “there is nothing quite like the sensation that accompanies an idea.”61 Consider, for example, the May 1957 Annual Sports Gala organized by the Kuwaiti Federation of Clubs, which mobilized 2,100 students drawn from the twenty-six Kuwaiti schools and featured an elaborate agenda of twenty items. Spectators were welcomed with a rendition of “Woe to the Colonizers,” one of the most popular songs broadcast on Sawt al-ʿArab. Then, a historical tableau was presented, representing the battle of Port Said in the form of a “float bearing a boat with sailors and an effigy of a descending parachutist.” Written on the side of the boat was the phrase “Get Out of My Canal.” Finally, the festivities closed with a set of exercises performed to the tune of a song composed especially for the occasion, each verse celebrating a different Arab country: “Egypt was represented as the champion of Arab freedom and the repeller of the aggressors; Yemen as the protector of Aden who was called upon to liberate her; Syria was described as the home of true nationalism.”62 Public festivities of this sort became common throughout this period, often using the large playground of the newly established Shwayekh Secondary School as a stage. One of the teachers in that school recalls:
The playground witnessed the celebration of the arrival of Djamila Bouhired, the Algerian female struggler, the celebrations of unity between Egypt and Syria, as well as other [patriotic] events. During patriotic anniversaries, fundraisers would be organized, and the teachers and public servants in Kuwait at the time donated a full month’s pay to rebuild the eternal city of Port Said, and they also donated to support the Algerian Revolution.63
The MAN increasingly used such spectacles to supplement the broader Nasserist anti-colonial message with an even more radical internal political agenda.
The strength of Nasserist public sentiment could be used as a lever for mobilization toward domestic change, especially after the establishment of the United Arab Republic (UAR) in 1958. At that point, the agenda of the MAN was threefold: achieving complete independence from Britain; establishing a parliamentary system; and eventually joining the UAR. But the limits to possible action within Kuwait also started to become evident. This was especially clear during the celebrations of the first anniversary of the United Arab Republic, held in Shwayekh Secondary School playground in February 1959. Ahmad Saʿid, the famous Sawt al-ʿArab broadcaster and superstar of the “radio age,” was invited to the event, which was attended by an estimated crowd of 20,000, an unusually large number for as small a city as Kuwait. Al-Khatib spoke about external Arab affairs, while his MAN comrade Jasim al-Qatami was given the role of speaking about internal affairs on the grounds that his approach was softer than al-Khatib’s. However, al-Qatami’s speech transcended the discursive parameters drawn by the government. Making explicit references to the MAN’s agenda of unity and parliamentary rule, al-Qatami lamented: “O brothers, if only our condition was like that of Homs and Hama, above which fly the flags of unity.” He declared boldly, “if the Kuwaitis had accepted to be ruled since the era of Sabah the First by a tribal regime, then the time has come now for popular democratic rule in which the people has its own constitution and ministers.”64
The Kuwaiti ruling family was afraid of letting such declarations pass without severe punishment. The next day, February 2, 1959, newspapers were closed and all public associations and sports clubs shut down. Jasim al-Qatami was suspended from his work and brought to police headquarters along with other MAN figures. Al-Khatib was briefly arrested. All of this could have resulted in a political crisis, and the MAN prepared to confront the regime by means of a popular political demonstration, drawing on the strength of pan-Arabist feeling amongst the masses. But crisis was averted thanks to the intercession of leading merchants with reformist inclinations who negotiated with the authorities. In an attempt to contain popular resentment, the regime created an Advisory Council in order to assist the extant Higher Council, a government-controlled reformist entity. Although it was restricted to advising on matters of bureaucratic and not political reform, the creation of the Advisory Council allowed the MAN to save face, as it was staffed by respected notable figures who had long mediated between the MAN and the government.65
The Shwayekh Secondary School events demonstrated that a regional Nasserist atmosphere could be used to mobilize toward democratic internal change, and led the government to hasten the pace of administrative reform. It began by creating the first legal code in Kuwaiti history, soliciting the expertise of the distinguished Egyptian constitutional expert ʿAbd al-Razzaq al-Sanhuri, who had most famously drafted the Egyptian Civil Code of 1948.66 Additionally, it formed the Council for Construction and Economic Development, and began to quicken the process of gaining independence from Britain.67 Despite these changes, a charged atmosphere persisted, largely due to MAN opposition to the unelected nature of these new councils. The crisis would not be fully resolved until Kuwait gained independence on June 19, 1961.
The Political Thought of the MAN in Kuwait, 1961–1967
Independence ushered in a new era for the MAN. In the words of al-Khatib, this was “an opportunity to form a political structure that was capable of playing a positive role in political reform, strengthening the Arab nation, and supporting national liberation movements across the world.”68 What is interesting in this formulation is the absence of any internal revolutionary agenda; the parameters of the movement’s domestic activities were restricted to pushing a reformist agenda through parliamentary means. Nevertheless, the regional political context afforded the MAN considerable space for maneuver. Soon after Kuwait gained its independence, Iraq publicly made claims on its territory. The ruling family faced an existential crisis that necessitated creating a unified internal front while also demanding recognition and support from the major Arab countries, especially Nasser’s Egypt. Under these conditions, it was wise for the government to take a conciliatory stance toward the MAN. Three leading figures from the movement, Jasim al-Qatami, Yaʿqub al-Humaydi, and ʿAbdallah al-Rumi, were invited to work in the Amiri Diwan. Al-Qatami was given an especially important position: the first Secretary-General of the Kuwaiti Ministry of Foreign Affairs. In this role, he appointed Arab nationalists to various posts, ensuring that the ministry became a stronghold for the MAN; the diplomatic staff was also influenced by its ideas.69 More significantly, ʿAbdallah al-Salim, the Amir of Kuwait, called for elections to the Constituent Assembly on August 26, 1961, and they were held on December 30, 1961. On January 14, 1962, the Amir issued a decree inviting the Constituent Assembly to convene, and he opened the first session on January 20, 1962.70 ʿAbd al-Latif al-Ghanim was elected Chair, with Ahmad al-Khatib as Vice-Chair. This fact was not without symbolic significance. After all, al-Ghanim belonged to an older generation of Arab nationalists. A member of the much-celebrated yet ill-fated 1938 Legislative Council, he was imprisoned after its dissolution for more than four years. Al-Ghanim complemented the 1950s generation of young radicals, whose representatives constituted the best-organized force in the Assembly.
The interventions of al-Khatib and his comrades in the Constituent Assembly demonstrated their core commitments. One of the most important was their will to enshrine a political vision that was regional in its scale and anti-colonial in its spirit. Unlike some in the Assembly who came from narrowly tribal backgrounds, or others pushing grand mercantile interests, the MAN members weren’t solely concerned with local issues affecting their immediate constituency.71 Rather they worked to consolidate Kuwait’s Arab identity while also furthering links with other Arab countries and peoples, particularly those engaged in anti-colonial struggle. This was first seen in the seventh session of the Constituent Assembly, held a few days after the signing of the Evian Accords, which concretized the success of the Algerian revolution. On this occasion Ahmad al-Khatib made a heartfelt speech, proposing that the anniversary of the Evian Accords be declared a National Day in Kuwait, suggesting to the Arab League that this day be celebrated as a national day for all Arabs, and calling for “donating generously to Algeria so that it can rebuild its economy which was exhausted by the long years of struggle, and so that it can resettle the one million refugees that were present in Tunisia and Marrakesh.”72 For many years thereafter, al-Khatib and his comrades represented other major causes, particularly that of Palestine, in similar terms.
As in the past, such regional commitments were accompanied by a vigorous pursuit of local reform, focused on the democratic process and political freedoms. Achieving this reform, however, was by no means a simple endeavor. Although the MAN helped draft a fairly liberal constitution, and managed to win a considerable number of seats in the first post-independence parliamentary elections in 1963, it was unable to ensure that the spirit of the constitution was always respected. A series of laws restricting freedom of assembly and the freedom of the press led to the resignation of Ahmad al-Khatib and seven other MAN MPs in December 1965.73 Their letter of resignation offers one of the clearest articulations of MAN political thought in Kuwait during this period of independence, which lasted until the 1967 war. The document is underlined by liberal precepts. In the view of the Kuwaiti MAN, “parliamentary representation is a means not an end. It is a means for pursuing a noble goal which is the construction of a better society in which individuals enjoy all liberties, equality and equal opportunity is achieved for all citizens, and social justice is established.” The Kuwaiti MAN’s liberalism is further highlighted by its commitment to fight for the list of freedoms guaranteed in the Kuwaiti constitution, in which drafting the MAN’s representative Yaʿqub al-Humaydi played a leading role:
freedom of speech, belief, the press and publications; enshrining personal freedom in its broad definition, and the impermissibility of arresting any human beings except in accordance with the law; the freedom of assembly and demonstration, and the right of forming organizations; as well as the equality of opportunity between citizens and their equality in front of the law.74
Also typical of the liberal tradition, the MAN’s Kuwaiti branch saw these freedoms as originating in human nature:
human societies love liberty and aspire to the fulfillment of higher principles. Constitutions and all legislative acts do not create freedom or construct it out of nothingness; they recognize an established truth and frame it in clear and permanent clauses, so as to help citizens in practicing their rights.75
In accordance with what has been referred to in the scholarly literature as “the fundamental liberal principle”76 – centered on the idea that restrictions on liberty must be justified – the Kuwaiti MAN asserted that “the origin in the constitution is the guarantee of public freedoms and the guarantee of freedom of conviction and belief, the exception are the restrictions that organize the practice of these freedoms so that the citizens are aware of limits and do not transgress them.”77
However, this liberal conception needs to be understood in context. Although the MAN displayed a general commitment to liberalism in Kuwaiti politics, it did not always uphold this in relation to the Arab world as a whole, toward which a more radical republican outlook was maintained, reflected in their defense of Nasserism. The traditional view of Nasserism has focused on three elements: pan-Arabism, anti-colonialism, and revolutionary socialism.78 However, a fourth aspect that also requires emphasis is republicanism. Nasser had a Jacobin republican understanding of the question of representation, believing, in the Egyptian context, the will of the people could only be genuinely represented by a revolutionary state working for their interest with popular support.79 Within the broader Arab political arena, the MAN saw the establishment of a revolutionary state capable of attaining genuine political and economic independence as more important than the protection of individual liberties.
The MAN in Kuwait was further confronted with another problematic, namely, socialism. In both thought and practice, the Kuwaiti branch of the MAN demonstrated no commitment to the concept; instead, equality of opportunity was emphasized. The MAN’s social base – relying in no small part on the merchant community – discouraged the adoption of a more radical orientation.80 Moreover, the nature of the Kuwaiti economic system, which afforded an affluent life to Kuwaiti citizens from the 1950s onwards, meant that there was a lack of popular interest in the socialist model. As far as the MAN was concerned, the problem facing Kuwait was to ensure equal access to resources, rather than assaulting the principle of private ownership or attacking the bourgeoisie.
This was reflected in the Kuwaiti branch’s resistance to adopting Marxism as a core precept of the MAN’s pan-Arab national leadership. Indeed, the Kuwaiti branch and its leader, Ahmad al-Khatib, were seen by some to occupy the “right wing of the movement.” Between 1962 and 1965, long and protracted battles were fought against the old MAN. The left (represented by the likes of Muhsin Ibrahim, Nayef Hawatmah, and Muhammad Kishli) emphasized the organic connection between the national and social struggles while attacking the old nationalist separation of the two, which was defended by Ahmad al-Khatib, George Habash, Wadie Haddad, and Hani al-Hindi.81
While the Kuwaiti MAN was able to hold on to its anti-Marxist position for most of the 1960s, it was unable to do so in the aftermath of the 1967 war. The shock of the Arab defeat, or naksa, was initially met by the MAN with disbelief bordering on denial.82 Nevertheless, the following months witnessed an intense period of auto-critique as well as a comprehensive reconsideration of the fundamentals of Arab revolutionary strategy. In July 1967, a meeting of the MAN’s national executive committee (of which al-Khatib was a member) resulted in a report entitled, “The Arab Revolution in the Face of the Battle of Destiny.” It was argued that the “setback” could be explained by virtue of the termination of the war with the military defeat, and the failure to transform it from a conventional conflict into a total war of popular national liberation against all colonialist forces in the Arab world. The Vietnamese experience was cited: what was lacking on the Arab level was a long-term mobilization that could lead to the creation of “many Vietnams” (the phrase was probably borrowed from Che Guevara, who had coined it in February 1967). Accordingly, the traditional MAN leaders concluded that the Arab petty bourgeois ruling elite was unwilling and incapable
of initiating a people’s war due to its very character, due to an ideology that “distrusted the masses” and to its structural position and interests, which limited it to conventional warfare. The way out lay in the assumption of leadership by the “oppressed classes” (workers, peasants and revolutionary intellectuals) and their turn to scientific socialism.83
As revolutionary as this sounded, the discourse adopted by the traditional MAN leadership, including al-Khatib, was still inadequate for the leftist current of the movement. Talk of scientific socialism was not enough: a complete shift was required, epitomized in the adoption of Marxist-Leninist organization. The leftists thus continued to agitate against the old MAN figures. The substance of their argument is captured by a famous statement made by Nayef Hawatmah in the August 1968 Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine (PFLP) conference:
If we want to ignite a revolution which will guarantee the liberation of Palestine and consequently the whole Arab world … we have to build our revolutionary party, our Marxist-Leninist party. With the absence of this kind of party, it is impossible to transfer the resistance movement into a real revolution … In Vietnam the revolutionaries are gaining victory because their struggle relies on a theoretical revolutionary base.84
This resulted in a revolt against the traditional figureheads and older branches of the movement. Amongst the ranks of the Gulf membership, the earliest step against the Kuwaiti leadership was undertaken in late December 1967 with the launch of the first regional conference of MAN branches in the Arabian Peninsula. The conference took place in Beirut in liaison with the leftist current of the movement. It was attended by representatives of the Saudi and Gulf branches as well as ʿAbdallah al-Ashtal, a senior envoy of the National Liberation Front (NLF), a movement which enjoyed enormous prestige at that moment, having just won the independence struggle in South Yemen.85 The Kuwaiti branch was harshly criticized. The Omani delegate, Zahir al-Miyahi, went as far as stating that the “Kuwaiti leadership with its bourgeois background is responsible for a latent revolutionary area.”86
Even more pressure was placed on the Kuwaiti MAN in the Dubai Extraordinary Conference for the Gulf MAN branches on July 19–21,1968.87 The leftists – especially the Bahraini, Omani and Dhufari representatives – resolved to settle their ideological scores with the al-Khatib wing. The conference thereby turned into an ideological battleground. The Kuwaiti representative, Khalid al-Wasmi, protested the hasty adoption of scientific socialism, declaring, “we do not know exactly what it means.” He questioned the proposed adoption of Leninist organizational principles: “we can only be committed to Marxism-Leninism as a method of organization after deep study and research; we cannot commit ourselves to something we do not know.”88 He further reiterated the inapplicability of armed struggle to the Kuwaiti context. But his pleas went unheard; if anything, they were seen as driven by “bourgeois dispositions” that confirmed the necessity of dispensing with the Kuwaiti leadership. Accordingly, the Kuwaiti branch’s membership was frozen. The only branch to protest this action was from Qatar. Overcome with sadness, its representative uttered the bewildered words: “we want more people, and you are freezing the brothers in Kuwait!”89
Al-Khatib and his comrades responded to these assaults by holding on to their theoretical dualism. They continued to advocate liberal reform by parliamentary means in Kuwait, while supporting more radical struggles elsewhere in the region, at this stage expressed in Marxist rather than Nasserist terms. In this respect, the Kuwaiti branch of the MAN did not undergo the transformation from “pressure group to socialist party” experienced by other branches of the movement elsewhere.90 Attempts to accomplish this transformation by younger cadres such as Ahmad al-Rubie only resulted in a split in the MAN. The movement dissolved in 1969 but its mainstream, represented by al-Khatib and his group, continued to organize under the banner of “The Movement of Progressive Democrats.” While insisting on liberal principles at home, al-Khatib and his group pursued a radical agenda at the regional level, providing financial and political support for revolutionary activities in places as distant and diverse as Palestine, Bahrain, South Yemen, and Dhufar.91
Conclusion
This chapter has explored Arab Nationalism in the Gulf from a perspective that focuses on the intersection between political action and intellectual thought. Instead of adopting a textual approach solely examining writings from the period, or “ideology studies” from the social sciences, engaging with the legacy of the leading organizer Ahmad al-Khatib has made it possible to highlight three themes that are critical to understanding and appreciating Arab Nationalism in Kuwait specifically, and the Gulf more generally. First, by examining the early historical context of political thought in Kuwait, the importance of human connections in shaping a transnational outlook such as Arab nationalism was emphasized. Such connections could be built through trade, foreign study, or migration, all of which were relevant at different points in the history of Kuwait. The nature of the political currents emanating from these connections is diverse. There is nothing primordial about this process; ideas correspond to historical realities and transformations as well as perceptions of the possible. The seamless shift from the politics of Islamic reformism to pan-Arabism in Kuwait illustrates this extremely well. At a time when the Ottoman Empire was still in existence, it was possible to believe in a vague Ottomanism. After its fall, other transnational orientations emerged, their fulfillment deemed more plausible.
What is equally interesting is the manner that Arab nationalist sentiment began to achieve broader appeal beyond mercantile cosmopolitan circles. No case illustrates this better than that of a figure coming from a humble background such as Ahmad al-Khatib. Although he did not visit other parts of the Arab region while growing up, others from the region came to him in the form of the Palestinian teachers sent to Kuwait in 1936. The outlooks brought by these teachers shaped his worldview and influenced those of his classmates, planting a seed that grew like a forest when al-Khatib moved to Beirut. His presence in that vibrant city allowed him to encounter, befriend, and establish lifelong connections with young men from other parts of the Arab world. It afforded him exposure to a broad range of global intellectual and political currents and experiences, allowing him to affiliate with diverse historical legacies.
The second theme highlighted in this chapter was the importance of political action in determining thought. The outlooks adopted by al-Khatib were not the product of abstract choice. Experiential factors – especially the 1948 Nakba – drove him and his comrades to build a transnational movement that would operate across the Arab East regardless of the boundaries separating its territories. Their rejection of boundaries and their insistence on regional unity was at the core of their practice as well as their belief. There were Arabs from every land in the organization. Moreover, they treated every country in the region as their own, interacting with its diverse struggles. Indeed, there is perhaps no Arab politician alive today who engaged with the internal politics of as many countries as al-Khatib, having had an impact on all the countries of the Arabian Peninsula as well as participating directly or indirectly in struggles from Iraq to Morocco.
Political practice also generated doctrinal versatility. Although initially opposed, al-Khatib and the other MAN founders gradually began to gravitate toward Nasserism. This shift not only resulted from a change in outlook; it was also propelled by the success in mass organizing that resulted, in large part, from the popular appeal of Nasserism. Similarly, their accommodation with Marxism after the 1967 war arose out of the demands of political practice as well as the search for an adequate organizational formula, and not pure intellectual commitment.
Finally, this chapter has illustrated the eclectic nature of the thought of al-Khatib and his comrades. At various points they drew on nationalist, anti-colonial, liberal, republican, and Marxist traditions, emphasizing each in different contexts. Here, a dialectic can be discerned. Al-Khatib pursued radical action, combining nationalist, anti-colonial, and Jacobin republican ideas in a manner that had effects well beyond Kuwait. But he was constrained in his own country by the unequal balance of power, principally organizing with an eye toward achieving political liberties and representation. At the same time, the social basis of the MAN in Kuwait and the affluent economic context of that country meant that al-Khatib and his comrades were hesitant to embrace Marxism on the local level; but this did not prevent them from practically supporting it within the broader Arab sphere throughout the post-1967 period. Thus, by the close of the 1960s, al-Khatib had assumed the unique status of revolutionary abroad, reformer at home.
1I am very grateful to Karma Nabulsi for her extensive comments on this chapter. I would also like to thank the editors of this volume as well as Andrew Heath, Simon Middleton, Gary Rivett, and James Shaw for their engagement.
2Jarrar (2005: 82).
3Whereas a rich historically based literature exists on earlier periods, for the 1950s and 1960s the field is dominated by studies adopting a social scientific “ideology studies” approach rather than a “history of political thought” orientation. These are sometimes tinged with a cold war flavor, or focused on the question of the “demise” or failure of Arab nationalism. Additionally the Gulf tends to be ignored with the focus on thinkers from Iraq, Bilad al-Sham (Greater Syria), Egypt, and the Maghreb. See, for instance, Salem (1994); Ajami (1992).
4This role, which was widely acknowledged in the mid-twentieth century, dramatically declined in the 1970s and beyond.
5See Nabulsi (2005).
6Hazareesingh (2005): 14.
7Ibid.
8Al-Mdairis (1987).
9Al-Kubaisi (1971); Kazziha (1975).
10For more on the debates over contextualism within the field of intellectual history, see the Introduction to this volume.
11After the establishment of the Hashemite Kingdom in 1921, some of the most prominent Kuwaiti merchants acquired Iraqi passports, even if they continued to reside in Kuwait, in order to facilitate their commercial and agricultural affairs in Iraq.
12Al-ʿAdsani (n.d.: 4).
13Al-Khatib (2007: 31).
14Political and economic historians are increasingly taking into account Arab interconnections with the Indian Ocean and Subcontinent. See, for instance, Ho (2006); Green (2012). In the field of intellectual history, Amal Ghazal (2010) has set a major precedent in this direction in her work on Oman and Zanzibar. Nevertheless, there remains a glaring need for similar work on the intellectual history of the northern Gulf.
15Ansari (2015: 13).
16Khazʿal (1962: 295).
17Al-Manar, Rabiʿ al-Awwal 1330 (February 1912).
18Al-Manar, Jumada al-Ula 1330 (April 1912).
19The term reformism is borrowed from the self-articulation of Kuwaiti figures influenced by Rida at the time, who announced themselves as committing to the cause of reform or islah. In the English-language scholarly literature, the term was used by Malcolm Kerr (1966). More recently, scholars have described the reformist or islahi thought of Rashid Rida as an expression of Islamic “modernism.” In particular, see Wood (2012: 48–64).
20For an extensive discussion of the Mubarakiyya school by its first principal and earliest advocate, see al-Qanaʿi (1962).
21Moaddel (2005: 5).
22Al-Manar, Dhi al-qaʿda 1330 (October 1912).
23The literary club only lasted for a three years. As a result of its political impact, the authorities closed it in 1927.
24Al-ʿAdsani (n.d.: 6).
25Hourani (1983 [1962]: 301).
26Al-Mdairis (2000: 14.).
27Al-ʿAdsani (n.d.: 23).
28For an in-depth study of this group by one of its members, see Juha (2004).
29Zahlan (2009: 16–17).
30For details of the 1938 reform movement in Dubai, see Rosemary Said (1970).
31Barut (1997: 130).
32Al-Khatib (2007: 26).
33Ibid., 27.
34Ibid., 38.
35Ibid., 38.
36For an extensive discussion of the political atmosphere at the American University of Beirut at the time, see Anderson (2011: 119–150).
37Al-Jamʿani (2007: 150).
38For the history of al- ʿUrwa al-Wuthqa see Ghanama (2002).
39Al-Khatib (2007: 72).
40Zurayq (1956: 34).
41Ibid., 43. For the significance of Zurayq’s thought on the early history of the MAN, see Maʿan Ziyada, “Taqwim tajribat harakat al-qawmiyyin al-ʿarab fi marhalitiha al-ula,” in Kazziha (1984: 337).
42For an authoritative study that details the beginnings of the MAN, see Barut (1997).
43The significance of ʿAli Nasir Al-Din as a major nationalist thinker is discussed in Badran (2011 [1996]).
44Al-Khatib (2007: 73–80).
45See Barut (1997: 35). A comprehensive selection of the group’s documents from that period is provided in al-Hindi and al-Nasrawi (2001–).
46Al-Khatib (2007: 120–24).
47Barut (1997: 130).
48Ibid., 76.
49Al-Zayd (1981).
50Al-Mdairis (2000: 26–31).
51al-Hindi and al-Nasrawi (2001–, vol. 1, part 4: 15–17).
52al-Hindi and al-Nasrawi (2001–, vol. 1, part 2: 12).
53Cleveland (1971: 89).
54Darwazah and al-Jaburi, “Maʿa al-qawmiyya al-ʿarabiyya,” in al-Hindi and al-Nasrawi (2001: 159).
55“Lisan al-Nadi al-Thaqafi al-Qawmi,” Majalat al-Iman, no. 5 (May 1953),” in al-Hindi and al-Nasrawi (2001-, vol. 1, part 1: 122).
56Barut (1997: 92).
57Darwazah and al-Jaburi, “Maʿa al-qawmiyya al-ʿarabiyya,” in al-Hindi and al-Nasrawi (2001-: 164–72).
58An entire MAN book was dedicated to these themes. See Darwaza (1961 [1950]).
59Al-Nadi Al-Thaqafi al-Qawmi, “La inhiraf ila al-yamin wa la inhiraf ila al-yasar,” December 25, 1958. A copy of the leaflet is reproduced as an appendix in al-Mdairis (2000: 215).
60On the MAN’s transformation, see Kazziha (1975)
61Panagia (2009: 2.)
62“Sports Gala, 13th May, 1957,” in Rush (1989: 245).
63Abu al-Jubayn (2002: 162).
64Al-Khatib (2000: 188–189).
65Ibid., 193–194. A similar movement developed in Bahrain in 1953–1956 but it was defeated by severe state repression. There, the Higher Executive Committee submitted a demand for the establishment of a legislative council, a legal code, a supreme court, and labor unions. Following mass demonstrations against the tripartite aggression in November 1956, its leaders were arrested and deported. See AlShehabi (2013).
66For Sanhuri’s legal thought and practice see Shalakany (2001).
67For the details of this process see al-Shehabi (2015: 151). For an account of the independence process based on the British archives, see Smith (1999: 115–135).
68Al-Khatib (2000: 202).
69Ibid., 200.
70“Amiri Decree Number 1 for the Year 1962”, January 14, 1962; Al-Kuwayt al-Yawm, Vol. 362, Year 8, Sunday, January 21, 1962. Reproduced in al-Yusufi (2013: 31).
71Al-Yusufi (2013: 26).
72Al-Majlis al-Taʾsisi. “Mahdar jalsa 7/62.” (Tuesday, March 20, 1962), 4. http://www.kna.kw/chapter1_meetings/007.pdf (Retrieved May 1, 2015).
73These were Jasim al-Qatami, ʿAbd al-Razzaq al-Khalid, Sami Munayyis, ʿAli al-ʿUmar, Rashid al-Tawhid, Sulayman al-Mutawaʿa, and Yaʿqub al-Humaydi.
74“Nas istiqalat nuwwab harakat al-qawmiyyin al-ʿarab min Majlis al-Umma al-Kuwayti (1965),” in Barut (1997: 547–550).
75Ibid.
76Gaus (1996: 162–166).
77“Nas istiqalat nuwwab harakat al-qawmiyyin al-ʿarab min Majlis al-Umma al-Kuwayti (1965),” in Barut (1997).
78Perhaps the best discussion of these three elements in the English academic literature can be found in Kerr, The Arab Cold War (1965: 1–9). Other accounts have viewed Nasser in terms of the broader notion of populism. See, for example, Hilal (1981); Podeh and Winckler (2004). An alternative Marxist perspective is provided in Abdel-Malek (1968). Finally, there is a tradition that critiques Nasserism on liberal grounds, focused on the extent of state control over society. The most comprehensive critique in this tradition is Yunus (2012).
79For the characteristics of Jacobinism, see Hazareesingh (2002: 6).
80Indeed, the MAN in Kuwait lost substantial merchant support in 1962 as a result of its defense of Nasser’s Arab Socialism. See al-Mdairis (1987).
81It is beyond our scope to engage in detail with these battles. However, they are discussed extensively in five different accounts of MAN leaders. Ibrahim (1970); al-Kubaisi (1971); Kazziha (1975); Habash (1997).
82See al-Hurriya, 19 June 1967.
83Barut (1997: 424).
84Al-Mdairis (1987: 379).
85Al-ʿIkri (2003: 76.
86Ibid., 77.
87Ibid., 79.
88Al-Mdairis (1987: 390).
89Al-Nuʿaymi (2005).
90This process is detailed in al-Kubaisi (1987); Kazziha (1975).
91For the Dhufari case study, see Takriti (2013). For Yemen, Bahrain, and other arenas see al-Mdairis (1987).