How Saudi Arabia and Qatar Became Friends Again

And why their rapprochement could mean an early end for the Arab Spring.

In the spring of 2006, Qatar's then energy minister broke his silence on a stalled, multibillion-dollar project to supply Qatari gas to Kuwait. "We have received no clearance from Saudi Arabia" he said. "Hence it is not feasible." Fast-forward five years and things couldn't look more different.

The gas-supply project is emblematic of the hot-cold relationship between Qatar and Saudi Arabia. The deal was initially proposed by the Qataris in 2001, denied permission by the Saudis, then approved in 2003, and then denied once again in 2006. The roller-coaster-like diplomatic relations between the two energy-rich neighbors dates back to 1992, when a border clash caused the death of two guards. Relations went downhill from there.

Riyadh's vocal objections to Doha's plans stretched to a proposed bridge between Qatar and the United Arab Emirates, as well as a bilateral gas pipeline now in operation, which according to Reuters prompted the kingdom to send official letters in 2006 to the pipeline's minority partners, France's Total and the United States' Occidental Petroleum Corp., questioning its proposed route.

Saudi Arabia's then crown prince, Abdullah bin Abdul Aziz, boycotted a summit of Islamic states in Qatar in 2000 to protest the presence to the Israeli trade office in Doha. Riyadh then withdrew its ambassador to Qatar in 2002 following controversial comments made by Saudi dissidents on Qatar's Al Jazeera satellite channel.

The dispute took a personal tone when lawyers for Qatar's first lady, Sheikha Mozah bint Nasser al-Missned, argued in a libel case she won against a London-based Arabic newspaper in 2005 that the paper was, as Dawn reported, "controlled by Saudi intelligence paymasters who used the newspaper as a mouthpiece for a propaganda campaign against Qatar and its leadership." In April 2008, the London-based, Saudi-owned Arabic daily Asharq Al-Awsat apologized for printing three "wholly untrue" articles back in 2006 alleging that Qatar's prime minister had visited Israel in secret.

During its decade of cold relations with Saudi Arabia, Qatar warmed up to Syria, the leader of the so-called resistance axis in Arab politics. Syrian President Bashar al-Assad and Qatari Emir Sheikh Hamad bin Khalifa al-Thani were frequent visitors to each other's countries, and Qatari investors poured billions of dollars into the struggling Syrian economy. Both states, along with Iran, Hezbollah, and Hamas, were seen as a regional counterbalance to the pro-Western axis of Egypt, Jordan, Saudi Arabia, and the United Arab Emirates. (The Saudis made their displeasure with Qatar's maverick policies clear on a number of occasions. Saudi Arabia, along with Egypt, refused to attend a January 2009 summit in Qatar supported by Syria and Hamas and instead held another summit in Riyadh just one day before.)

Wishing to put an end to the bad blood, Qatari Prime Minister Sheikh Hamad bin Jassim bin Jaber al-Thani, widely seen as the architect of Qatar's foreign policy, accompanied the emir on a surprise visit to Riyadh in September 2007. Relations quickly improved following that visit, with the Saudi monarch attending the Gulf Cooperation Council summit in Doha that December. By next March, the new Saudi crown prince, Sultan, had paid a three-day visit to Doha, the first since 2002. In July 2008, the Saudis played host to a high-level summit in Jeddah that saw the two neighbors demarcate their border and set up a joint council to be chaired by both states' crown princes -- who are more than 50 years apart in age -- to strengthen political, security, financial, economic, commercial, investment, cultural, and media relations.

It was perhaps that last aspect of the pact that drew the most attention. The New York Times reported in 2008 that the Qatari emir had taken the chairman and general manager of Al Jazeera with him to Riyadh in September 2007. One Al Jazeera employee claimed in an email message to the Times that "Orders were given not to tackle any Saudi issue without referring to the higher management" and that subsequently "All dissident voices disappeared from our screens." Al Jazeera is now accused of rarely taking on sensitive topics involving its larger neighbor.

Relations hit a high in May 2010 when the Qatari emir pardoned -- upon King Abdullah's request -- an undisclosed number of Saudis who were accused by Doha of taking part in a 1996 coup led by loyalists of Sheikh Hamad's ousted father. Upon arriving in Saudi Arabia, the released prisoners were received by the crown prince in his palace in Jeddah.

Despite the rapprochement, not all was smooth sailing between the two countries, especially when it concerned Syria. In 2008, the Saudi foreign minister, according to Syrian government-controlled newspaper Teshreen, expressed objections to Qatar's attempts to resolve the political crisis in Lebanon, which traditionally falls under Saudi-Syrian influence. On another occasion in 2009, Kuwait's Al Rai newspaper quoted a Qatari official saying that Damascus had rejected Qatari efforts to resolve yet another Lebanese cabinet formation crisis by interceding with the Saudis.

Despite the rapprochement between Qatar and Saudi Arabia, the two states have reacted differently to the Arab Spring. While Qatar's support for this year's Egyptian revolution was evident in Al Jazeera's coverage, Saudi Arabia continued expressing support for President Hosni Mubarak until the very end. And despite the cold relations between Libya and Saudi Arabia due to an alleged 2003 assassination attempt against then Crown Prince Abdullah, the Saudis never called on Muammar al-Qaddafi to step down. Yet not only did Qatar call on the Libyan leader to go, but it was also the first Arab country to commit to the NATO-led military effort in the North African state.

At first, Doha and Riyadh appeared to see eye to eye on Syria. On April 2, shortly after the protests erupted in Syria, Qatar's emir dispatched his prime minister to Damascus to deliver a message of "support for Syria in the face of efforts to undermine the country's security and stability," as reported by Syrian state media. However, relations between Qatar and Syria had deteriorated so much by July 18 that Qatar suspended operations at its embassy in Damascus and withdrew its ambassador in yet another major surprise of the Arab Spring, especially considering the close relations of both states.

In the intervening months, Al Jazeera had noticeably amped up its coverage of the Syrian protest movement, privileging YouTube clips and eyewitness accounts over government claims that the protests were a foreign-backed Islamist conspiracy. Syrian channels retaliated by blaming Qatar for the unrest, at one point even showing bags of drugs with the Al Jazeera label, and by intimating that some $6 billion in Qatari investments were at risk. A senior Qatari official said his country might resort to international law to sue Syria while the Qatari press said that Syrian channels devoted hours every day to "portray Qatar in a bad light."

What can explain this dramatic shift in Qatar-Syria relations? As early as March 25, Egyptian-born Sheikh Yusuf al-Qaradawi, a popular religious scholar who for many years maintained a weekly show on Al Jazeera and who is a longtime member of the Muslim Brotherhood, declared his full and emphatic support for the Syrian revolution in a Friday sermon. "Winds of change [are] not far from Syria," Qaradawi declared, citing the "historical ... political bond" between Egypt and Syria, and proceeded to condemn Syria's "suppressive regime" and its "atrocities." Bouthaina Shaaban, an advisor to the Syrian president, immediately singled out Qaradawi for what she claimed was inciting a sectarian uprising.

Perhaps Qaradawi's influence and presence in Qatar, where he has lived since 1961, explains why Doha was willing to publicly break with Assad while Saudi Arabia has maintained some level of support. The Syrian revolt, like Egypt's, has been partially led by the country's outlawed Muslim Brotherhood, which regularly meets with liberals and other opposition factions to plan for a post-Assad Syria. Qatar, which like Saudi Arabia officially practices a Wahhabi version of Islam, evidently feels more comfortable with the Brotherhood sharing power than do the Saudis. Saudi Arabia may also be concerned for the stability of Lebanon, which would inevitably be affected by a regime collapse in Syria.

Another interesting twist will be how Iran reacts to Qatar's now-frozen relations with Assad. Iran and Qatar share control of the world's largest gas field, obliging Doha to maintain cordial relations with Tehran -- yet Iran is deeply invested in Assad's survival, to the point of allegedly sending trainers and billions of dollars worth of cash to help him contain the revolt.

Meanwhile, Qatari and Saudi ties grow ever warmer. In the past few weeks, the number of weekly flights Qatar Airways has been allowed to operate to Saudi Arabia increased from 35 to 60. In September, a delegation of 100 Saudi businessmen will visit Qatar to discuss joint business opportunities, including the establishment of a Saudi-Qatari bank and joint industrial zone. Al Jazeera, long banned in the kingdom, has also been given the green light to set up a Saudi bureau.

The friendly relations are likely to continue -- at least until 2022, when Doha plays host to the FIFA World Cup, a marquis global event for which it has earmarked anywhere between $65 billion and $100 billion and invested considerable political capital. For the tournament to go as smoothly as possible, a pragmatic Qatar will need the full cooperation of its largest and only land neighbor. Saudi firms will doubtless win lucrative infrastructure contracts or supply essential raw materials to Qatar over the coming decade, and we will likely see Doha's freewheeling foreign policy stay within the bounds of Riyadh's interests. Above all, Qatar will spare no effort to make certain that nothing stands in the way of its global coming-out party.

-/AFP/Getty Images


Sorry, Pakistan: China Is No Sugar Daddy

Just because Washington and Islamabad are at odds doesn't mean Beijing is looking to step in.

When the chips are down, as the saying goes, you quickly learn who your friends are.

With the Obama administration's recent decision to suspend some $800 million in U.S. aid to the Pakistani military, the generals in Rawalpindi are once again turning to their "all-weather" friends in Beijing. Although the White House's action is unlikely to lead to a total cutoff of military assistance, the figure is significant, representing more than one-third of the United States' annual commitment to Pakistan.

Reflecting his government's displeasure at the move, Islamabad's ambassador to Beijing, Masood Khan, pointedly announced that "China will stand by us in difficult times as it has been doing for the past years." His statement was designed to show Washington that Pakistan has other powerful friends. Implicit in Khan's message was also an expectation that Beijing would indeed provide enhanced military, and perhaps other, assistance.

Are Pakistani leaders unduly optimistic about Chinese largesse? Or does Washington's loss of influence provide Beijing an opportunity to deepen its ties with Islamabad?

On the face of it, there are ample historic and strategic reasons for China to increase military aid to Pakistan. After all, Islamabad is Beijing's closest ally in South Asia, and both are keen to limit Indian influence.

Pakistan has also benefited from substantial trade and economic ties with China, particularly in infrastructure and mining. Beijing is Pakistan's largest trading partner, a relationship that was worth almost $9 billion last year.

Military ties have been a key feature of Sino-Pakistani relations; Beijing is now Islamabad's largest defense supplier. China has helped build elements of Pakistan's conventional and nuclear forces. It has participated in joint aircraft manufacturing programs, as well as helped Islamabad acquire tactical ballistic missiles, according to Jane's, and sensitive nuclear technology.

China's worries over its internal security provide a further motivation to bolster Pakistan's stability. Concerns about Islamist militancy on its western border have grown since the 2009 Uighur riots in the Xinjiang autonomous region, which left nearly 200 people dead. Violence once again broke out in the restive region this week, though not on the same scale as two years ago. In the remote town of Hotan, state media claimed that police shot dead 14 rioters, heightening tensions between the central government and the Uighur community.

The Turkistan Islamic Party (TIP), a Uighur separatist group that Beijing often blames for terrorist attacks within China, appears to have a sanctuary in the borderlands of Afghanistan and Pakistan. TIP leaders were killed in South Waziristan and North Waziristan, in September 2003 and February 2010, respectively. Chinese leaders fear that the reduction in U.S. military aid to Pakistan -- coupled with the impending drawdown of American troops from Afghanistan -- could afford the Uighurs a safe haven outside Beijing's control.

Indeed, Afghanistan looms large in China's strategic calculus. Media reports highlighting the discovery of nearly $1 trillion in untapped mineral deposits in Afghanistan surely have piqued Chinese interest in bolstering relations with Kabul. With its export-oriented economy heavily dependent on raw material imports, the prospect of cheap resources on China's periphery is understandably appealing. Acutely aware that Pakistan's generals will play an integral role in Afghanistan's future, Beijing will be keen to leverage its close ties with Rawalpindi.

But only up to a point.

The relationship is more asymmetric than Pakistan would like to admit. For this reason, it makes perfect sense for Islamabad to "foster the impression that new tensions with America might nudge it even closer towards China," as the Economist recently observed.

Beijing does not necessarily feel the same way. While Islamabad may be an ally, its utility is confined to South Asia; Pakistan is not central to Beijing's wider ambitions. As a world power, Chinese interests are global in scope and require a more considered approach. Consequently, the Chinese are rightly wary of getting drawn into the acrimonious marriage between Islamabad and Washington. And acrimonious it is. The chief of Pakistan's top intelligence service is, for example, reported to have told lawmakers that "America is an unreliable ally," presumably in sharp contrast with China. But Beijing has benefited from U.S. involvement in Pakistan. As Daniel Markey of the Council on Foreign Relations told me, the Chinese have thus far been content to "free-ride on U.S. efforts to stabilize Pakistan." The mainland may well share Washington's concerns about Pakistan's future, but it has preferred to let Americans bear the costs of improving the country's security.

From Beijing's perspective, being seen to take a provocative stand alongside Pakistan comes at a substantial cost but provides little strategic benefit. An escalation in Chinese aid to Pakistan would surely antagonize India, creating a new point of friction in the triangular relationship between Beijing, New Delhi, and Washington. While keen to maintain pressure on certain issues, such as Indian support for the Dalai Lama and its various territorial claims, leaders in Beijing have no desire to push New Delhi further into Washington's open arms.

In any case, expanding its relationship with Pakistan out of short-term opportunism or a desire to one-up the United States is not in keeping with China's style. Beijing prefers to play the long game, and the open-ended nature of any prospective financial commitment to Islamabad is enough to sharpen the minds of Chinese leaders. The risk of instability within Pakistan is simply too high for Beijing to willingly step in and become the country's main patron. At the end of 2008, according to a 2010 Brookings Institution report, Pakistan -- on the verge of default -- sought China's support to avoid having to meet the restrictive terms of a $7.5 billion IMF loan. But Beijing offered only tough love, sending a token commitment of $500 million, which was read as "a clear message to Pakistan that it is no longer willing to be Islamabad's lender of last resort."

According to China expert June Teufel Dreyer of the University of Miami, despite Pakistan's desire to show Washington that it has other partners, "it is impossible for Islamabad to replace U.S. aid with Chinese aid dollar for dollar, renminbi for renminbi." One reason, according to unnamed U.S. officials cited in a recent Financial Times report, is that "Beijing does not 'do' assistance in the same way as Washington and that Pakistan is made to pay for the help that it receives from China." Generous credit terms from China have clearly helped Pakistan, the newspaper notes, as evidenced by the 8,000-odd Chinese citizens involved in various Beijing-backed infrastructure investments in the country. These range from rebuilding and expanding roads to constructing dams and ports.

A financially constrained Pakistan has also approached China for soft loans to pay for orders of jointly developed JF-17 fighter aircraft, according to a recent Jane's Defence Weekly article. Other major acquisitions that could be funded through Chinese loans are on the horizon: up to six Chinese submarines, two 500-ton missile boats, and two squadrons of Chengdu J-10 fighter aircraft, according to Jane's. Pakistan is also considering acquiring at least another four Chinese frigates, either larger and improved F-22P ships or another design, Jane's reports. Such defense assistance might well be increased in direct response to the reduction in U.S. military, and other, aid to Pakistan. To this end, Beijing will continue to feature among Islamabad's strongest supporters.

But these steps hardly add up to a fundamental realignment of Chinese aid policy. For all its emotive rhetoric, Pakistan is not in a position to effectively play Beijing off against Washington. As a result, China is unlikely to institutionalize the kind of financial commitment that the United States has made -- even as Washington's influence over Islamabad continues to wane.

Jason Lee-Pool/Getty Images