Qatar’s external, outward state identity, which it is trying incredibly hard to promote in the lead up to the 2022 FIFA world cup as all eyes turn towards the nation, is one that is at odds with the internal lived reality within the state for a lot of people in a lot of ways. Most importantly, Qatar has adapted sustainability as an important tenet of its identity moving forward, with promises made regarding the emissions of the world cup as well as vision 2030 and the climate goals for 2050, but is not doing sufficiently proportional work within the nation to promote sustainability. In fact, in many ways Qatari life has doubled down on the desire for luxury, excessive consumerism, and promotion of indulgence as a way to appeal and market to the western petromodern nations, trying to argue that Qatar too is just as developed as the west and thus is worthy of hosting the world cup in response to orientalist criticisms. Music videos for the world cup anthems showcase a bustling city and a skyscraper-dorned skyline that is meant to be difficult to set apart from any other metropole. In trying to appear modern and shed the orientalist association of deserts, camels and ancient mythological lore with backwardness and “savagery,” the state has become the overindulged product of western ideals of modernity that are wholly reliant on petroculture, in a world where it is incredibly and increasingly necessary to overcome those ideals and reliance toward a global movement of mitigation of the climate crisis.
The experience of “wilderness” and “nature” in Qatar invokes a temporality of the past that the state is trying to distance itself from which reproduces the animosity between the false binary of human and nature, as discussed in my first post about the gulf past. The tourists coming to the country who visit the sand dunes may find themselves thinking along the lines of orientalist authors who romanticized and glorified the deserts of the Middle East in a consumerist and inferior way, so instead the most commonly advertised experience becomes to “dune bash” in gas-guzzling four wheelers that subconsciously divert attention away from this past. This relationship of wilderness with time does a disservice to the goals of eco-consciousness because it utilizes harmful solutions to the problem of otherization and orientalism that Qatar faces, which only happens because these experiences in the desert are posited at odds with the luxury and comfort you can find in the “city”.
This is juxtaposed with the experience of being in the stadiums for the world cup. The air-conditioned stadiums built from back-breaking labor of migrant workers who are mistreated despite the reforms made to labor laws in the country invoke a sense of being in a futuristic space and country while the work that has gone on behind the scenes is an indictment of the “freedoms” granted by petromodernity, which Bergthaller criticizes in saying “yet the idea that the living standards thus achieved in the industrialized world represent the future of humanity—rather than the luxuriating tip of a global pyramid of exploitation—was never more than a pleasant conceit.” (Bergthaller, 429). The future that is speculated through these fabrications is not one of social and economic equality but one in which the disparity between classes is further exacerbated in order to help those most privileged survive the incoming climate crisis.
The gulf-futurism invoked by the infrastructure in Qatar in places like Musheireb, Lusail, or even the metro is one that is “most effective on an aesthetic level” (Aima). While the metro can be commended for making public transport more accessible and for cutting down on emissions by cars, it is insufficient in both its efficiency and the number of people who use it. The metro stations require most people to drive or take a bus to reach, which is an unfortunate circumstance of creating city structures that are not walkable. Most people who have drivers or their own cars continue to drive anyway because the metro seems like more of a hassle. The compartments in the metro are also divided so that the “family” and “standard” sections are often gender-segregated and reproduce the animosity towards migrant workers who are frequent passengers of the metro.
Another space that invokes this gulf-futurism is the Al-Kharsaah Solar Plant. While the prospect of turning to solar power is promising, the inauguration of the plant was celebrated with the aesthetic of gulf-futurism that is far removed from the actuality of the plant, and the promises of the plant meeting 10% of energy demands for the country and reducing carbon emissions by 26 million metric tons get lost in the aesthetics of it all – and who would hold Qatar Energy accountable for it if they fail to deliver anyway? There is no proportional work by the government to change the social and cultural environment to encourage people to be more eco-conscious because the government’s role within this gulf-futuristic society is to be the savior while everyone else can continue enjoying their lives of comfort, luxury, excess and exuberance. This is not enough. So long as the government continues to market the state as eco-conscious but does not enact measures requiring people to do their part – because that would mean attributing social and economic power to the people in a way that is not conducive to the state structure – citizens and residents of the country will feel sheltered from the climate crisis until it is too late.
