Article
Comment
Freedom of Belief
Islam
Middle East
7 min read

Beyond the glitz: the Gulf States and belief

Religious tolerance amid the skyscrapers.

Andrew Thompson MBE is an Anglican priest who served in Kuwait and the United Arab Emirates.

A large, modern cubiod building with a series of thin external pillars is seen from low down against a sunny blue sky
St Francis Church, Dubai.
Abrahamic Family House.

The Arabian Gulf conjures up images of sandy deserts, oil and gas and robed Arab sheikhs. Western (orientalist) academic imagination portrays the tribal culture of the Arab as rooted in a timeless Islamic world, one which suggests an atavistic conservatism which imposes severe restrictions on women and people of other faiths. 

The reality, however, in a country like the United Arab Emirates is utterly different. This is a country which has more women in the government cabinet than any other country in the world. Emirati women hold more PhDs than their male compatriots. The UAE government has a Minister for Artificial Intelligence, a Minister for Coexistence and Tolerance, and (my favourite) a Minister for the Future. They examine the emergence and use of new technologies which would enhance human existence. A good example is Masdar city, a whole residential area which is built from the ground up to run on sustainable and renewable energy. The paradox of using oil and gas revenues to invest in future forms of renewable energy is one of many. This is a Gulf country which has wholeheartedly embraced living for the future; yet at the same time, they have held onto the ancient Islamic faith as a vehicle which carries their values in the here and now. 

A visitor to Dubai can only marvel at the speed at which the city has morphed from a sleepy backwater just one generation ago, to being one of the world’s leading cities and tourist destinations. In the last 12 months, 17 million tourists visited Dubai alone. 

Even more impressive is the Gulf’s use of ‘soft’ power in which they use the wealth of the oil industry in projecting Arab influence in spheres ranging from space exploration and sport. We have witnessed Gulf states hosting world cups, mixed martial arts tournaments, and Formula One through to the performing arts including opera, musicals (Hamilton is currently playing there) and K Pop.  

In the current crisis between Hamas and the Israeli government we have seen Qatar come to prominence as peace negotiators and the lobbyists of countries locked into the Abrahamic Accord - a groundbreaking peace deal between Israel and Gulf States ending decades long diplomatic détente. That Saudi Arabia are offering to join the Abrahamic Accord if Israel commits to the two-state solution signals a shift in Middle Eastern politics which is unprecedented in the region’s history. 

Amid these developments is the presence of a large, international and flourishing church community.  There has been little written about the religious space in the Arabian Gulf; much of the attention has been focused on the oil industry and the resulting politics. Yet, there are many Christian communities in the region. The Christian church in the Gulf has recently been visited by Pope Francis. The papal visits are the first ever in the region. The first one in 2019 witnessed a staggering 180,000 worshippers attending a mass in a football stadium provided by the president of the UAE.  This was followed by a trip to Iraq and then to Bahrain.   

The discourse regarding tolerance has become a feature of soft diplomacy across the Arabian Gulf, with numerous interfaith initiatives receiving government backing.  The UAE is leading the way with the construction of the first purpose built Gurudwara, a Hindu Temple and a much-celebrated Abrahamic Family House; a single campus which hosts a mosque, church and a synagogue (also the first to be built in the region). 

At a time when Islamophobia and Antisemitism are escalating, Muslims in the West are feeling the need to retreat from the public space to feel safe.  Ancient hostile narratives are being resurrected to paint the Islamic community as an alien enemy whose values are antithetical to Western ones. This was seen most recently during the World Football tournament in Qatar where the Western media relentlessly pushed stories which distorted and misled their audience on Arab culture and context. For example, the figures of high death rates reported by the media, of Nepali workers building football stadiums neglected to mention that these statistics included the deaths of all expatriates of all nationalities resident in the country, and that most of the deaths reported were due to natural causes (heart attack and cancer), road traffic accidents and so on. Another story implied that there was no alcohol permitted in the country and everyone had to go ‘dry’.  This was patently false as fans who visited the country can attest to. Alcohol was available and accessible to those who wanted it. These negative reports reinforced existing prejudices against the Muslim Arabs. I would like to counteract some of this hostility based on my experience of living in the Arabian Gulf over several years as an Anglican priest. 

A fourth century letter from a bishop who was dealing with the issue of whether Christian pearl divers should work on a Sunday. 

Christianity in the Arabian Gulf predates Islam. Churches and monasteries functioned on the trading routes from Baghdad, travelling along the South-eastern coastline all the way through to Oman.  Many of the prominent tribes in northern and eastern Arabia were Christians.  

These ancient Christian communities had a seminary, several bishoprics and prominent theologians who produced commentaries and liturgies still in use today.  They were involved in several trades, including the pearling industry. A fourth century letter from a bishop who was dealing with the issue of whether Christian pearl divers should work on a Sunday; left it to the individual conscience of the pearl diving community.  

It was trade, not persecution, which was the main factor leading to the decline of the church by the ninth century.  By then Islam had coexisted with the Christians peacefully for at least 200 years.  The archaeological sites of churches in the Gulf today show no sign of violence and destruction, rather, their building materials were used to build nearby homes long after the monks had left. 

It is sobering to discover that some of the worst religious encounters in terms of violence and intolerance in the region, came not from the Islamic communities but rather the militant western Christian powers who were expanding their empires to the East. First came the Portuguese who were vicious in the use of the mutilation of noses and ears as a tool to subjugate Arab tribes. This was followed by the British and the assertive use of gun boat diplomacy. To this day the residents of Ras Al Khaimah in the northern emirates recount their town being shelled by the British Royal Navy in the late 1800s.  

The pages of the Gospel often come to life to me when I visit a Muslim home and I recognize similar patterns of culture. 

Given this negative history, it is astonishing that the culture of tolerance prevailed towards non-Muslims in the coastal cities of Arabia.  Today in the UAE, over forty centres of Christian worship offer a spiritual home to close to nine per cent of the population. Though not quite to the same extent, other Gulf countries have similar provisions of hospitality for the Christian community. Saudi Arabia, long regarded as the most intolerant of the Arab states, is including church buildings in their ambitious project The Line. 

The gift that the Arabian Gulf offers is a model in which diverse neighbours can learn to encounter each other in a space in which is neutral and rewarding. My own faith as a Christian has been deeply enhanced by learning about and experiencing Islamic spirituality and hospitality. It astonishes me how few take up that opportunity, despite being many years in the region. 

The Arabian Islamic culture echoes and at times has preserved the culture that would have been familiar to Jesus Christ. The pages of the Gospel often come to life to me when I visit a Muslim home and I recognize similar patterns of culture, I am reminded that Jesus was a child of the Middle East.   

One project the church in the UAE initiated was to make local employment laws available to workers in their native languages.

Western media often highlights negative stories from the Arabian Gulf regions. Human rights issues and migrant labour abuse are some of the common issues. Without diminishing the real suffering of victims in these stories, the reality is that these are global issues.  

The UK witnessed multiple deaths of the Chinese cockle pickers in Blackpool; in addition, migrants in the UK can recite a long list of unjust hostile actions taken against them by the British Home Office.   

The Gulf has modified their laws to criminalise abuse of labourers and domestic workers, although critics point out that the laws are not consistently enforced. One project the church in the UAE initiated was to make local employment laws available to workers in their native languages, both in writing and on an audio device. 

This then is the alternative narrative.  The Arabian Gulf, at its best, can model interfaith and intercultural encounters in a way which promotes a safe and cohesive society. Islam, at its best, can provide a counterpoint in the religious landscape in which non-Muslims can worship without fear. 

An antidote to the ‘Arab-bashing’ which seems to prevail in the West is to move away from promoting hostile narratives and instead, in the words of Paul in the New Testament, to seek that which is true, honourable, pure, lovely and excellent. 

Article
Climate
Comment
Sustainability
5 min read

What “drill baby drill” really means for the world’s poor

Climate jargon pales in comparison to hard, hot and harsh realities.

Jane Cacouris is a writer and consultant working in international development on environment, poverty and livelihood issues.

forest tree-tops break a mist.
Forest in Cameroon.
Edouard Tamba on Unsplash.

“Drill, baby, drill,” declared Donald Trump during his inauguration speech in January to roars of Republican approval, going on to sign executive orders to “unleash” the American oil and gas industry to do just that: drill. This, even though the United States is already the largest crude oil producer of any other nation, according to its own Energy Information Administration, and has been for the past six years in a row. 

Fossil fuel combustion is undeniably the largest source of greenhouse gas emissions worldwide says the IPCC, with oil accounting for about 34 per cent of global CO2 emissions from fossil fuels. And World Economic Forum statistics show that the lowest income countries produce only one-tenth of emissions but are the most heavily impacted by climate change.  

Something doesn’t seem very fair here.  

Many of us are aware of the statistics and policies and rhetoric around climate change. It is all buzzing around in the background of our lives, in the news, on social media and in opinion pieces like this one. But if we’re honest, it is all still theory for most of us living in the Global North.  

On a recent work assignment, involving research in remote communities in Southern Cameroon, I found the true extent of climate crisis is hard hitting and very real. According to the IMF, Cameroon is ranked 16th in the world in terms of countries most vulnerable to the impacts of climate change, partly due to its geographical location. 

High levels of rural poverty and the country’s economic dependence on agriculture, which employs over 70 per cent of the population adds to this climate vulnerability. But the government statistics and climate jargon, worrying as it is, paled as I discovered the reality of rural Cameroonians’ lives. Lives that depend almost solely on the productivity of the land, and therefore on the weather. Lives that have no Plan B when the climate is unpredictable.  

The communities we studied live in rural villages many kilometres from any urban centre, and rely entirely on natural resources for their livelihoods. They depend on traditional rain-fed agriculture, hunting for bush meat, and collecting non-timber forest products such as tropical fruits, insects, medicinal plants, herbs and honey from the dense forests near their dwellings to survive.  

The effects of the changing climate have been felt by them for some time. During periods of water scarcity, which is becoming more unpredictable and prolonged, local streams dry up, meaning crop yields fail, such as corn, groundnuts and cassava, and families go hungry. Fishing yields dwindle. The work burden for women rises, as they have to travel further to collect water for drinking, washing and cooking. Poor roads with inaccessible tracks during heavy rain events, or non-existent roads, prevent communities from accessing markets, health care and external support, making them isolated and more vulnerable to climate impacts. 

With the science predicting rising future temperatures and higher seasonal variability in their region, these communities will only become more vulnerable, mirroring the story of millions of other people around the world. They must adapt to survive. The alternative is not surviving. Devastatingly, this is a very possible future outcome.  

I’d say the UK is standing on the side lines in the playground, looking on.  

Why should wealthy, powerful nations mostly responsible for global carbon emissions, not only refuse to compensate those at the receiving end of resulting climate change, but actively seek to cause more damage? It echoes of a bully in a school playground, inflicting suffering on a smaller child, gaining in popularity, power and self-confidence as a few egg them on, others stand by, whilst the receiver of the abuse summons all their remaining strength simply to survive and make it through another day.  

So where does the United Kingdom stand in the playground?  

In terms of domestic climate policy, the UK must meet net zero by 2050, in line with the target set out in UK legislation, i.e. in twenty-five years from now, total greenhouse gas (GHG) territorial emissions must be equal to the emissions removed from the atmosphere. On paper, it seems the UK is on track to achieve this. GHG emissions have halved since 1990, driven by investing in renewable power and phasing out coal in the electricity sector. However, as WWF and others have pointed out, this figure has a glaring omission. Products including clothing, processed foods and electronics imported into the UK are counted as the “manufacturing country’s emissions,” not the UK’s. This is known as “offshoring.” And according to WWF, between 1990 and 2016, emissions within the UK’s borders reduced by 41 per cent, but the consumption-based carbon footprint only declined by 15 per cent, mainly due to goods and services coming from abroad.  

In terms of climate finance for the world’s poorest nations, the UK pledged to spend £11.6 billion between 2021 and 2026, and the government recently said it remains committed to meet this pledge. However, the pot from which this climate finance must come, the UK’s overseas aid budget, was slashed in recent months from 0.5 per cent to 0.3 per cent of national income to prioritise defence spending. Meanwhile, climate experts and charities are warning that what the world needs now is stronger global solidarity in the face of the climate crisis, rather than national self-interest. I’d say the UK is standing on the side lines in the playground, looking on.   

Trump professes to be a practicing Christian… I wonder what would Jesus have to say about the way America and other wealthy nations have dealt with the climate crisis? One of Jesus’ most well-known and powerful teachings was to love your neighbour. The parable of the Good Samaritan in the Bible demonstrates the way we should treat our neighbours; acting with love, compassion and mercy, not only towards those we know or who live in our friendship network, community or country, but towards every human being, regardless of nationality, background or social group. In the context of climate change, Christians are called to love our global neighbours. This includes supporting the world’s poorest communities to thrive, speaking up on their behalf, demonstrating love through political and social action. Jesus certainly doesn’t teach us to put ourselves “first.”  

Imagine a world where every nation signed up to Jesus’ teaching on how to treat our neighbours. Would climate change abruptly halt, human suffering stop and global peace prevail? In truth, probably not, because humanity is imperfect and we get things wrong even when we mean well. But if the intention was there, and if world leaders looked to Jesus’ lead on this, there is little doubt we would be many steps closer.  

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