Before we came to Oman, we read that the people were very warm and the country quite relaxed.  That has certainly proven to be the case. Walking the streets, wandering in the Souk, or driving on the roads, one senses a kind of calm.  People are open, welcoming, easy to talk to.  English is spoken quite widely, so it is possible to converse with those whom one meets.  On the streets,  you rarely hear a car horn, and, when you do, it is short or it may be a cab asking if you want a ride.

Interactions among people I have watched are likewise relaxed.  Parents with their children, men or women conversing, I have yet to witness either anger or tension.  Indicative of this is an experience I had the other day.  I was out walking and saw a minor collision.  One car stopped short and the one behind ran into him.  It was a minor accident, but there was damage to both cars.  There was a moment which passed and then both drivers got out of their cars walked up and shook hands.  They then talked quietly for a few moments, pulled their cars off the street into a lot and had a conversation.  I see this as emblematic of the general mood of calm I referred to earlier.  Oman has proven to be a very comfortable place to visit, just as advertised.

Lewis Brownstein
Professor of Political Science and International Relations
SUNY–New Paltz

Our group of ten academics travels throughout Oman in a small fleet of vehicles with the official plates of the Sultanate: we’re in Volvos, Mercedes, even a Cadillac. The Sultan spares no expense, and has fine taste in wheels. We intrepid ten here in the Gulf are chauffeured by traditional garbed men, many ex-military, now in the service of the government. Whether being ferried through the streets around the capital Muscat, or from Muscat to the desert, we invariably move at breakneck speed. I’m talking fast.

Why Not? We are not bound by traffic laws, and speed, after all, connotes power. (Are you listening Danica Patrick)? Our haste seems a conspicuous example of the influence of an absolute monarch, which Sultan Qaboos of Oman obviously is. Once other drivers get a good look at our green and red official plates–the colors of the national flag–they clear out of the lane pretty quickly. (Either that or self-interest at protecting their vehicle shunts them aside). It’s a fun way to travel that none of us are used to, and has the advantage of allowing us to sit, take a good look around this fascinating Middle Eastern nation, and compare notes as we rocket along. More on what we’re seeing and feeling later.

Paul Basinski

SUNY Orange

By S. Ilgu Ozler, Associate Professor

SUNY New Paltz Department of Political Science

On the second day of our visit to Oman, we have driven through the perfectly manicured and extremely clean streets of Muscat to make our way out of town towards the Wahiba Sands.  As we drove 160 km ( 100 miles) per hour on the 10 lane highway out of Muscat, I realized that we had not hit a pot hole since arriving in the country 48 hours ago.  Growing up in Ankara, Turkey and now living in New York, avoiding pot holes is a regular part driving.  Not in Oman!

As we left the cool breeze, the palm trees and beautiful beaches of Gulf of Oman on the edge of the Indian Ocean behind us, we started to drive through a stunning terrain of rocky mountains.  These low laying mountains sat perfectly together creating a magical feeling.  We were on our way to the desert which is the stereotypical image of the Arabian Peninsula that the West has.  Not the beautiful beaches that we were driving away from.

The desert of Wahiba Sands was more beautiful than I could imagine.  During the sunset, the shadows  on the red and brick colored sand made mysterious shapes.  I could imagine a truly peaceful existence there at that moment.  Yet, the terrain that is all sand and very little vegetation was also telling my rational self that this place is lonely and tough for people to survive.  In an hours’ drive into the sand, all we saw was a few tents surrounded by goats and camels and a lone reception tower for telephones.

On the other hand, the place that we stayed at night “1000 Nights” was all too civilized beyond my expectations.  I had a full bath with running water attached to my Bedouin tent. The food was dominated by delicious salads and spicy vegetarian dishes with some barbecue on the side.  Our hosts- including the men and women who played music, singing and dancing to traditional songs after the wonderful dinner that we had- were Bedouins.  Our driver came from a Bedu herder family.  He spent the summers in Biddiyah (the nearest town).  During the winters, he is in the desert staying with his family carry their camp into different places with their herd of 140 goats and sheep and 10 camels. The Bedouins are nomadic desert people who speak a different dialect than those from Muscat.  The Omani tourist guides from Muscat could not translate for us the songs that our Bedouin hosts were singing as they spoke differently here.  It is amazing that in such small country and in such a short time we have observed so much geographic as well as social diversity.

When we look to the future, we steer by stars that are still in motion. Clearly, the Sultan is a beloved captain of the Omani Ship of State.That being said, I asked the Secretary General of the Qaboos Center for Islamic Culture what challenges the sultanate faces. He was candid and forthright by telling us that his personal concern was who would take the helm when the Sultan “shuffles off this mortal coil.” At

71 years old, [the Sultan has no children] will Omani’s next leader have the vision and charisma to continue the extraordinary progress Omani has seen in the last 40 years? Will the next generation be as appreciative as those who sing his praises are now?

To be honest, only time will tell.

Richard Cattabiani

SUNY Ulster

Oman’s politics reminds me of Aristotle’s belief: everything in moderation opined the Greek philosopher. Many in the West today make an automatic, if unfortunate, connection with Islam and extremism: sectarian, political, social. Nothing could be further from the truth in Oman. Since the current ruler Sultan Qaboos came to power in a bloodless coup in 1970, he’s steered a middle path politically between the Western nations and the Middle East. For example, Oman has fairly stable diplomatic relations with both the United States and Iran, two countries otherwise not likely to be mentioned together in the same breath. While Oman supports the cause of Palestinian statehood, they supported the Camp David accords, and did not then or later act antagonistically toward Israel.

Some of this is merely pragmatic. The Sultan’s kingdom is a small nation with a small military. This has meant choosing a middle path in foreign policy, rather than trying to direct or guide politics regionally. Though it is not wholly accurate in capturing its foreign policy, the word neutrality comes to mind. Certainly in a region ravaged by conflict in the post World War Two era, Oman has not really come close to being swept up by these regional conflicts. More moderation, since war is a powerful force that might lead a more intemperate or unskilled nation into its maw.

The benefits of such a policy are obvious to us here. Spending less on defense and avoiding conflict means that oil revenues which might be gobbled up by  a large military or corrupt plutocratic regime, are spread around the country fairly evenly. (Are you listening Egypt)? Infrastructure is great here (roads and bridges rival the best in the U.S. or Europe); Oman has an excellent system of public education; and a rising living standard of living has created per capita wealth in excess of $25,000. Though as in the United States, it’s not all equally distributed.

Makes you believe that moderation has its benefits!

Paul Basinski

SUNY Orange