The first trip I made to Qatar was courtesy of the national airline Qatar Airways – another “Emirates in the making” backed by the desires of a small state to gain global recognition and with the helpful deep pockets of an oil rich governing family. The airline’s new slogan is particularly noteworthy – “Qatar Airways - Taking you more personally”. This is announced by a soft and seductive male voice on the airline intro video as you buckle up for the quick hop up to Doha from Dubai.
To be honest, I think “Taking you more personally” would be more naturally suited as a subtitle to a European soft porn movie, rather than an airline . . . “Valerie in Vienna – Taking you more personally” . . . “Doreen in Dortmund – Taking you more personally”. . . kind of works better that way, doesn’t it?
Anyway, the flight was but a brief 40 minutes old when we began our descent into Doha, the capital of Qatar. The terrain leading to Doha is the typical fare of the region . . . sand. Lots of it. Indeed Qatar is a peninsular outgrowth from the cost of Saudi Arabia which is home to between 50-150,000 actual Qataris depending on who you ask (although the official figures say the population is between 750 and 800,000 people – mostly expats and pumped up to make the minimum population figures to accede to the WTO . . .). There is a lot of empty space in this country which will take them a long time to fill – although they are already building islands in the sea in the same manner as Dubai with The Palm islands.
Incidentally, the word “peninsula” is often used in Qatar, as it not only describes the shape of the country, but also the name of its #1 global export after oil and gas . . . Al Jazeera TV.
Al Jazeera is the Arabic word for “peninsula” and is headquartered in sleepy Doha with the blessing of the Emir of Qatar, Sheikh Al Thani. The channel is the pride of the Middle East, despite its controversial profile internationally. Staffed by ex BBC trained journalists, it is the most popular Arab news channel, providing quality news reporting of the region, by the region, for the region, combined with a plethora of live debate shows which the Arabs seem to adore. Later this year Al Jazeera International (an English language TV channel) will be launched as well as Al Jazeera Children’s Channel which is aimed at providing infotainment to the Arab youth of the region and will be broadcast from 5 cities as far apart as Doha in Qatar and Rabat in Morocco. It will also re-launch its web site (aljazeera.net) as part of its expansion internationally. Watch out CNN!
Doha is not only the capital of Qatar; it is practically speaking the only place that is inhabited in this desert kingdom. The Al Thani ruling family has palaces spread across this pleasant town which is now seeing some of the development that Dubai has become famous for over the last few years. The rather charming corniche that frames the bay area around the town is the site of an explosion of luxury hotels springing up cheek to cheek next to luxury office blocks as the old monoliths of the 1970’s are now being upstaged by the latest in glass, steel and concrete some 30 years later. A bit nouveau riche perhaps, but then Qatar is rather “nouveau” anyway, having really only just hit the big time. . .
With the world’s second largest proven reserves of liquid natural gas and a very respectable supply of oil, Qatar’s small population now enjoys the highest GDP per capita in the region and is in the top 10 worldwide. This new wealth has come after a long period where the Qatar reserves of gas and oil were managed by Japanese corporations who had negotiated exclusive extraction rights for some 20 odd years with a very large percentage of the revenues ending up in Japanese rather than Qatari pockets, thus keeping the Qatari income comparatively low until the contracts ended a couple of years ago. Then suddenly, and literally overnight, all that came out of the ground went into the Dish Dash pockets of the local chieftains and their respective clans and spending began in earnest.
The level of conspicuous wealth in Qatar is quite extraordinary, and they appear to be desperate to spend / invest it as quickly as possible in a bid to catch up with Emirates, Kuwait, Saudi and Bahrain. Everything from financial exchanges to luxury hotels, banks to boats, educational institutions, hospitals, research centres and of course the energy business and media have all seen enormous investment commitments in the last few years and the boom looks set to continue with the hosting of the Doha Asian Games in 2006 (the Eastern Olympics)
A prime example of their conspicuous consumption of money occurred shortly before this, my first visit, when the Emir’s son, the Heir Apparent, was married to the daughter of Sheikh Hammad Bin Suhaim Al Thani (whose wife is the Emir’s sister). The wedding was of course big news in Doha with the reception being held in a castle especially constructed for the wedding in the desert (the local mega hotels being simply too pedestrian for an occasion of such magnitude).
The city was dressed in a series of lavish flower arrangements and other decorations in celebration of the great occasion. One of the most incredible achievements of the wedding was its entry into the Guinness Book of Records for the world’s most expensive flower arrangement which was commissioned by Sheikh Hammad and cost US$1 million. Not a bad day for Interflora then . . .
Part of my trip was to meet with various members of the Royal Family with regard to the possibility of entering into a business arrangement together. (Like many Gulf countries whose laws for foreign firms require some kind of local partner or sponsor, Qatar requires a local shareholding in any registered business).
Our morning began with a meeting with a quite young Sheikh whose office is to be found at the Family Planning Centre in Doha. This, I discovered, is not a place where couples go to get advice on their sex lives and how to procreate, but rather a government institution set up to manage the Royal Family’s activities and development.
Our meeting with the Sheikh lasted some time, although his personal attention was not long held, as is common with Gulf Arabs. He was very polite in greeting me and my colleagues, then let the meeting be run by one of his employees while he sat quietly in the corner playing with his mobile phone.
After this meeting and a lunch, we returned to the office fighting our way through the extraordinary traffic of Doha. I should explain that Doha doesn’t have a great deal of traffic per se, just several hundred roundabouts and plenty of drivers whose relationship with a driving license is probably best described as a passing acquaintance.
As a result, the Doha Grand Prix, which is probably the best way to describe rush hour (which, incidentally, is every hour), is a rather terrifying combination of enormous 4x4s which do their best to attain supersonic speeds on the “straights” between roundabouts, and then go around the roundabouts without even touching the brakes, and certainly not going to the massive trouble of actually stopping to let other traffic through.
When one is unaccustomed to this phenomenon, as I was, the smell of fear pervades the air conditioned interior of your vehicle rather quickly. I found myself reaching for a second seatbelt and offering up small prayers to whichever Gods were tuned into my frequency. And I thought that Cairo taxis were bad!
Anyway, having risked life and limb to return to the office just a few miles across town, I settled down to the challenge of preparing for my evening meeting with Sheikh Hammad himself – he of the $1 million flower arrangements.
I was due to meet him at his Majlis at his palace at about 6.30pm. I was keen to arrive early (how naïve of me – thinking that my punctuality would be in anyway useful in Arabia!), and prepare mentally for the meeting.
A Majlis is a very common phenomenon in the Gulf countries (it is called Diwaniya in Kuwait). It literally means Council and it is a tradition which goes back many centuries from the first settlements in this part of the world.
The leader of a tribe, or Sheikh, would have a Majlis room or hall within the fort of the settlement and would sit in council there to advise and adjudicate disputes that may arise within the tribe. Today, many Gulf Arab houses feature a Majlis room which has a separate door from the main entrance of the house and is the exclusive domain of men who will gather at each other’s houses to discuss topics ranging from business to politics and social issues.
The Majlis is usually held at a certain time each day and anyone who wants to can attend (as long as you are male of course . . .). One simply enters the room which is a rectangular shape with a large seat or desk at one end where the leader sits and then seats or sofas along the length of the walls for the visitors to sit. People come to just listen as well as to ask the advice, guidance or permission of the leader on a variety of matters. The decision of the Sheikh is final and totally respected.
I arrived at Sheikh Hammad’s palace and went into the main part of the building. His personal collection of Porsches was neatly lined up in the central courtyard along with the Mercedes being quietly watched by some servants. I entered the Majlis reception area and announced my name. I was ushered into the hall where everyone stopped to look at a stranger dressed in a highly inappropriate suit and tie (instead of the local Dish Dash). It was quickly indicated that the Sheikh would receive me instead in his ante room office where I was promptly guided. Time 6.25pm.
In the office we were offered tea, dates, cigars, food and all sorts of things to while away the time – which was good as there ended up being a lot of it to while away! Chatting with the Sheikh’s Lebanese legal adviser we managed to cover world religions, international commerce, the delights of the highly complex Lebanese political scene (of which he had once been a part), the meaning of life and why English people are obsessed with the weather.
At one point the call of nature became so loud that I had to ask to use the “conveniences”. I was quickly escorted to the Sheikh’s own private office which adjoins his own private toilet.
I have never been in a more opulent office in my life, and of course the toilet was no disappointment either with a visual assault from all of the gold and silver plastered liberally over everything. Even more importantly, the Sheikh must do a lot of thinking in this room as it was exceptionally comfortable. Were it not for the fact that he was due to break off his Majlis any moment to grace me with his presence, I would have quite happily spent an hour or two enjoying these particular surroundings in peace. As it was I hurried about my business and returned to the other side of the palace to the ante-room to await His Highness.
After a short while upon my return, I noticed the end of a cigar enter the ante-room. Not just any cigar but a twelve bore cigar the likes of which I had never seen before. The cigar kept on entering the room inches at a time, and I was fully expecting to see a support team running underneath it to keep it steady.
After what seemed like three minutes, the owner of the cigar also managed to enter the room at the end of this monster from Havana. Sheikh Hammad had arrived and my speech went out the window as I stood admiring this Cuban Missile from the other side of the room.
Introductions were effected and I managed to stumble through my well rehearsed line about “how he must be delighted with the wedding to the Heir Apparent but saddened at the loss of his daughter” etc etc (not to mention the loss of $1 million on a bunch of flowers which were now sitting rotting in some dustbin in downtown Doha!) and we sat down to our earnest discussions about business with me honing my negotiation skills and showing him exactly who was boss here!
Sheikh Hammad: “So you want to do business with me?”
Me: “Er, yes please, that is to say, if it is not too much trouble . . .”
SH: “We make company?”
Me: : “Um, yes, that is more or less our plan , if you don’t have any objections sir, I mean Your Highness Excellency sir . . “
SH: “Ok. Speak with lawyer. Make the papers and I sign. Goodbye.”
And with that I concluded the deal with a dynamic and highly convincing performance. Bring me Donald Trump!
Sheikh Hammad stood up, lifted the mammoth cigar to his lips, took a puff, blew smoke in my face (clearly a gesture of great friendship and respect) and then turned and left the room to return to his Majlis.
We left by the tradesman’s entrance and went off to dinner to celebrate my enormous powers of persuasion and the huge coup of getting a deal with one of the top Sheikhs in Qatar.
While driving to dinner, my local manager who is very experienced in Arab ways and particularly those of Qatar, informed me that if this deal were to go through, I would have to present a gift to the Sheikh at the launch of the our new company. This seemed entirely reasonable to me until I enquired as to what kind of gift is usual in these situations.
Apparently, I was to get my people to start researching the purchase of a good camel for me to give to Sheikh H who already has more money than God and probably has a stable of camels. I was envisioning the press conference featuring me standing behind a podium giving my launch speech with a toothy camel tethered to the microphone, grinning to the cameras. . . . nice . . .
Later that night I heard a wonderful story (probably apocryphal) about Sheikh Hammad who had apparently been to Switzerland recently on a shopping trip. Sheikh Hammad is a young man and traveled casually wearing jeans and a T-shirt, a baseball cap and carried a small rucksack with his shopping money – in this particular case $1 million in cash.
Although his trip was to buy jewellery, gold and diamonds, it was not a total success, with him managing to only spend $600,000 on jewels, leaving the other $400,000 in cash in his rucksack.
On his return to Qatar he left his rucksack on one of the security scanners while he went to chat with some friends he had bumped into at the airport. After several minutes had gone by, he walked over to the scanner where various bags were piling up and wandered off.
After a few hundred yards, a voice started shouting for him to stop. Under ordinary circumstances, one doesn’t shout at Sheikhs, but this didn’t stop the aggrieved student who came running up to an astonished Sheikh H and then accused him of taking his bag.
Sheikh H glanced at the student who was carrying the same rucksack and saying that Sheikh H has taken his, and that he should check the luggage tag.
Still astounded, the Sheikh looked inside the rucksack he was carrying to find a laptop, some sports shoes etc. Thankfully for him, the student hadn’t looked in the bag he was carrying.
With some relief, Sheikh Hammad exchanged bags with the student and they both went on their merry way - the student never to know just how close he came to becoming a millionaire in Qatar.
So Qatar is a land of many superlatives, everything being the latest, the biggest or the best – and often the most expensive. But the Qataris retain their traditions – so far at least – while they acquire new habits and customs from the West.
Sheikh Hammad never, of course, signed any deal with me. After some backing and forthing with his legal representatives, more for face than anything else, he politely removed himself from negotiations. He had probably been mistakenly informed that we were a multi billion company for which his involvement would earn him several million a year in change. When he learnt that we were unlikely to financially change his life (in fact not even his living room) he played difficult just so we could exit the deal with face intact. Making sure no-one loses face is a very important part of Gulf Arab culture, and while frustrating on occasion, it is a rather endearing quality and should always be respected.
We ended up partnering with the shy young Sheikh of the morning meeting who will be happy to give us his time and his name, and who is still too young to be smoking half of the GDP of Cuba in one evening.
