The future of Oman is not the past

In 1999 I attended a short training seminar in Oman, visiting from Saudi Arabia. Those two or three days made a life-changing impression on me. A gentle-paced, low-rise city by the sea with friendly people and a distinct and diverse culture. Two years later, when I found out that I would be transferring to Muscat with a promotion that I'd applied for, I was delighted. I have left and come back twice now and spent half my adult life here. Oman gives me most of my friends, my livelihood and above all my wife. If I never leave again, it will be because Oman has all I really need. Perhaps that is the most sincere compliment I can offer.

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However, I did have mixed feeling about writing this article. There will be plenty of fawning reminiscences on how wonderful life in the Sultanate of Oman has been and I usually find them hard to read. The main reason I get irritated when I read endless gushing compliments about Oman in personal columns, is because I hear so much moaning and complaining in private. I am as guilty as any of finding things to complain about, whether it's getting stuck in traffic, some bureaucratic issue, or despairing of finding a competent electrician. We all have good days and bad days!

So, on the occasion of Oman's National Day I would like to make a less emotional reflection. More than 50 years have passed since Sultan Qaboos ascended to the throne and began his urgent task of building a modern nation state. Half a century sounds like a long time to achieve that, but as a man who has also passed 50 years I can also say that on some days it feels like I have just started.

Those who are old enough to remember the 1970s or earlier seem to be the most appreciative of how much has happened, and how fast. In their youth they knew a life that was beautiful but hard, where their mothers and sisters died in childbirth, siblings passed away as infants of simple, treatable diseases, hot summers made daily life a struggle and productivity low, and the outside modern world was a strange mirage over the water. The basics we take for granted now, of well-stocked pharmacies and clinics, universal education and healthcare, luxury cars, drive through coffee and (my personal favourite) air conditioning, are transcendent.

Of course older people find things to complain about as well, and their first subject is normally younger people! For those who grew up in the 1980s boom or later, the basics of modern life are no miracle of development. They are measures of comparison with neighbouring countries and the fascinating delights of Europe, the US and others. Often these comparisons are deeply unfair. The government could do more to educate on economic and demographic realities, maybe, but the stereotype of “millennial entitlement” has some resonance in this country.

There was a time in Oman where the flow of money into the economy from massive government projects, the subsidy of public consumption and the comfort blanket of free services was greater than it is now. Some neighbours with smaller populations and larger resources still behave in that way. Younger people wonder why their life in Oman isn't easier, and older ones wonder what has changed.

In truth, when His Majesty Sultan Haitham bin Tarik took the throne, he inherited all that his late and beloved predecessor had built. But he also had to deal with unprecedented debt, a global pandemic and structural issues in need of attention. A timely spike in the oil price certainly helped, but we cannot underestimate the tough decisions and hard truths that had to be faced. That is worthy of recognition when we celebrate the passing of another year.

The reality is that the world keeps on turning and the state cannot be the mother and father of every citizen, just as expatriates like me cannot assume a new highly-paid position is waiting to be honoured with their presence. Oman's population has quadrupled since those boom years and the resources in the ground have not. The future of this country is more Omanisation, more diversification and a recognition that we get out what we put in. On the occasion of this National Day, I tip my hat to His Majesty and to all Omanis. The easy road is long gone so let's not complain about the hard road ahead, but keep walking. More power to you all. We have made a good start.