Apollo
VIP
What a boss 
''There really is no ruler in the Middle East quite like Sultan Qabus. Today he is a slim septuagenarian who is unmarried and lives alone, almost as a recluse. There is a studied remoteness about him. He plays the lute and the organ and loves Western classical music, which he also composes. (He has started the Middle East’s only classical symphony orchestra made up of indigenous musicians.) He has institutionalized his rule through the building of well-functioning ministries, advanced the status of women, built schools throughout the interior, worked to protect the environment, and outlawed hunting. One Western expert of the Arab world said that in private audiences, the sultan, a Sandhurst graduate, is the “best-informed, most thoughtful, most well read and articulate leader—in both Arabic and English—in the Middle East; he is the only one in the region you can truly call a Renaissance man,” the personification of the cosmopolitanism that has accompanied Indian Ocean societies.
One former high-ranking American official observed that there is a breadth of strategic thinking to Sultan Qabus that is comparable to Singapore’s Lee Kuan Yew. Indeed, the world has been fortunate over the decades to have two such enlightened and capable rulers governing at the two most critical choke points of the Indian Ocean, by the Strait of Hormuz in the west and the Strait of Malacca in the east. It is almost as if, like Lee’s Singapore, Sultan Qabus’s Oman is too small a country for the talents of such a leader. Sultan Qabus, it is said, can discuss the Israeli-Palestinian conflict in detail from both points of view, has worked hard to cultivate a good working relationship with the Iranians even as he has provided the United States with a military access agreement that helped rid Afghanistan of the Soviets and Kuwait of the Iraqi army, and later allowed for as many as twenty thousand American troops to temporarily stage in Oman prior to the invasions of Afghanistan and Iraq. In 1979 his was the only Arab state to recognize Anwar al-Sadat’s peace agreement with Israel. Given that the deep-draft parts of the Strait of Hormuz that are essential for oil tankers are entirely in Omani territory—making Oman’s own strategic interests identical to those of the outside world—Sultan Qabus would seem to be, with all his talents, the perfect go-between for the Americans and Iranians, and, for that matter, between the Americans and the Arabs in the case of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. Yet the sultan, in keeping with his quasi-reclusive style, has shunned the role, retreating to his books and music like an elderly Victorian gentleman, for whom courting publicity would be a sign of weak character.
He grants few interviews. His public appearances are modest in number. He is not in the newspapers cutting ribbons every day like other dictators, nor are photos of him present to an obscene degree as has been the case with dictators such as Saddam Hussein in Iraq or even Hosni Mubarak in Egypt. There is no cult of personality per se surrounding Sultan Qabus. Instead, there is an unreal, Stepford-like quality to contemporary Oman. There is very little military or other force to be seen in the country, in contrast to the security guards and concrete Jersey and Texas barriers that guard entrances to hotels and other buildings in Saudi Arabia. Almost every adult here is in native dress, smiles, and talks altogether positively of the ruler, though only when asked; and when asked about democracy or freedom, says, as an Omani friend told me, “What is this freedom that you talk about that we don’t have?” And given the demonstration that the United States has provided in Iraq, with all its attendant violence, you cannot blame the Omanis their incredulousness at the question.*
Indeed, Americans have had a tendency to interpret democracy too legalistically, strictly in terms of laws and elections. They put perhaps too much stress in the act of voting itself, an interpretation of democracy which can inhibit American power rather than project it. In some societies, particularly in the Middle East, democracy is a matter of informal consultation between ruler and ruled, rather than an official process. Where would America’s position in the Middle East be without the likes of the monarchs of Oman, Jordan, and Morocco, not to mention other nondemocratic rulers who nonetheless fight anti-Western extremists? The future of American power necessitates an understanding of other people’s historical experiences, not just its own. Americans believe, because of their own generally happy history, in a “unity of goodness,” that all good things flow from the same source, such as democracy, economic development, or social reform.9 But Oman shows that something Americans believe is a bad thing—absolute monarchy—can produce good results.
Oman demonstrates that whereas in the West democracy is an end in itself, in the Middle East the goal is justice through religious and tribal authority, which comes together in the person of the sultan. There is also the realization that, thank God we’re not Saudi Arabia, with its unappealing and repressive monarchical style; thank God we’re not Yemen, with its Wild West, partially democratic tribal anarchy; and thank God we’re still a real place, unlike Dubai.
Oman’s serenity is curiously aided by its Ibadi form of Islam, which is neither Sunni nor Shiite (and is also practiced in pockets of North and East Africa). Although the Ibadis, because of their democratic--anarchic tendencies, fell into discord in previous eras, Ibadism, like a many-sided jewel, can also stress conciliation, the avoidance of conflict, and the importance of saving face. There is a calming, Buddhist aspect to Ibadism. It represents the opposite of j!hadism. Here the few dissidents have been co-opted and work for the government. Ibadism is another factor, like the dishdashas, the distinctive turbans, bejeweled daggers, and architecture that help construct national unity.
Moderate amounts of oil and new discoveries of natural gas have also helped provide for Oman’s political and social tranquillity. The sultan has leveraged this by conservative fiscal planning, whereby budgets are calculated according to oil prices much lower than the world rate, providing for extreme surpluses. He himself lives in a style below that of many an American CEO. There is a small-scale elegance to his palaces, and no fleets of limousines and jetliners accompany top Omani officials. The excesses of other oil-rich Gulf states are absent here.
The sultan’s very tact, evinced by the modest style of his rule, and his shyness in cutting a larger figure on the international stage—almost in the minimalist manner of Scandinavian prime ministers, and in direct contrast to bombastic rulers like Iran’s Mahmoud Ahmadinejad and Venezuela’s Hugo Chávez—may attest to the vulnerability he feels. Oman’s eerie perfection may work precisely because it does not attract attention within the region.''
I got this excerpt from this book:
''There really is no ruler in the Middle East quite like Sultan Qabus. Today he is a slim septuagenarian who is unmarried and lives alone, almost as a recluse. There is a studied remoteness about him. He plays the lute and the organ and loves Western classical music, which he also composes. (He has started the Middle East’s only classical symphony orchestra made up of indigenous musicians.) He has institutionalized his rule through the building of well-functioning ministries, advanced the status of women, built schools throughout the interior, worked to protect the environment, and outlawed hunting. One Western expert of the Arab world said that in private audiences, the sultan, a Sandhurst graduate, is the “best-informed, most thoughtful, most well read and articulate leader—in both Arabic and English—in the Middle East; he is the only one in the region you can truly call a Renaissance man,” the personification of the cosmopolitanism that has accompanied Indian Ocean societies.
One former high-ranking American official observed that there is a breadth of strategic thinking to Sultan Qabus that is comparable to Singapore’s Lee Kuan Yew. Indeed, the world has been fortunate over the decades to have two such enlightened and capable rulers governing at the two most critical choke points of the Indian Ocean, by the Strait of Hormuz in the west and the Strait of Malacca in the east. It is almost as if, like Lee’s Singapore, Sultan Qabus’s Oman is too small a country for the talents of such a leader. Sultan Qabus, it is said, can discuss the Israeli-Palestinian conflict in detail from both points of view, has worked hard to cultivate a good working relationship with the Iranians even as he has provided the United States with a military access agreement that helped rid Afghanistan of the Soviets and Kuwait of the Iraqi army, and later allowed for as many as twenty thousand American troops to temporarily stage in Oman prior to the invasions of Afghanistan and Iraq. In 1979 his was the only Arab state to recognize Anwar al-Sadat’s peace agreement with Israel. Given that the deep-draft parts of the Strait of Hormuz that are essential for oil tankers are entirely in Omani territory—making Oman’s own strategic interests identical to those of the outside world—Sultan Qabus would seem to be, with all his talents, the perfect go-between for the Americans and Iranians, and, for that matter, between the Americans and the Arabs in the case of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. Yet the sultan, in keeping with his quasi-reclusive style, has shunned the role, retreating to his books and music like an elderly Victorian gentleman, for whom courting publicity would be a sign of weak character.
He grants few interviews. His public appearances are modest in number. He is not in the newspapers cutting ribbons every day like other dictators, nor are photos of him present to an obscene degree as has been the case with dictators such as Saddam Hussein in Iraq or even Hosni Mubarak in Egypt. There is no cult of personality per se surrounding Sultan Qabus. Instead, there is an unreal, Stepford-like quality to contemporary Oman. There is very little military or other force to be seen in the country, in contrast to the security guards and concrete Jersey and Texas barriers that guard entrances to hotels and other buildings in Saudi Arabia. Almost every adult here is in native dress, smiles, and talks altogether positively of the ruler, though only when asked; and when asked about democracy or freedom, says, as an Omani friend told me, “What is this freedom that you talk about that we don’t have?” And given the demonstration that the United States has provided in Iraq, with all its attendant violence, you cannot blame the Omanis their incredulousness at the question.*
Indeed, Americans have had a tendency to interpret democracy too legalistically, strictly in terms of laws and elections. They put perhaps too much stress in the act of voting itself, an interpretation of democracy which can inhibit American power rather than project it. In some societies, particularly in the Middle East, democracy is a matter of informal consultation between ruler and ruled, rather than an official process. Where would America’s position in the Middle East be without the likes of the monarchs of Oman, Jordan, and Morocco, not to mention other nondemocratic rulers who nonetheless fight anti-Western extremists? The future of American power necessitates an understanding of other people’s historical experiences, not just its own. Americans believe, because of their own generally happy history, in a “unity of goodness,” that all good things flow from the same source, such as democracy, economic development, or social reform.9 But Oman shows that something Americans believe is a bad thing—absolute monarchy—can produce good results.
Oman demonstrates that whereas in the West democracy is an end in itself, in the Middle East the goal is justice through religious and tribal authority, which comes together in the person of the sultan. There is also the realization that, thank God we’re not Saudi Arabia, with its unappealing and repressive monarchical style; thank God we’re not Yemen, with its Wild West, partially democratic tribal anarchy; and thank God we’re still a real place, unlike Dubai.
Oman’s serenity is curiously aided by its Ibadi form of Islam, which is neither Sunni nor Shiite (and is also practiced in pockets of North and East Africa). Although the Ibadis, because of their democratic--anarchic tendencies, fell into discord in previous eras, Ibadism, like a many-sided jewel, can also stress conciliation, the avoidance of conflict, and the importance of saving face. There is a calming, Buddhist aspect to Ibadism. It represents the opposite of j!hadism. Here the few dissidents have been co-opted and work for the government. Ibadism is another factor, like the dishdashas, the distinctive turbans, bejeweled daggers, and architecture that help construct national unity.
Moderate amounts of oil and new discoveries of natural gas have also helped provide for Oman’s political and social tranquillity. The sultan has leveraged this by conservative fiscal planning, whereby budgets are calculated according to oil prices much lower than the world rate, providing for extreme surpluses. He himself lives in a style below that of many an American CEO. There is a small-scale elegance to his palaces, and no fleets of limousines and jetliners accompany top Omani officials. The excesses of other oil-rich Gulf states are absent here.
The sultan’s very tact, evinced by the modest style of his rule, and his shyness in cutting a larger figure on the international stage—almost in the minimalist manner of Scandinavian prime ministers, and in direct contrast to bombastic rulers like Iran’s Mahmoud Ahmadinejad and Venezuela’s Hugo Chávez—may attest to the vulnerability he feels. Oman’s eerie perfection may work precisely because it does not attract attention within the region.''
I got this excerpt from this book:
rumors he is gay... he also follow the Ibadi movement...He Isolated Oman from international politics..he was good tk Somali specially majeertain "we are realted to one of biggest Omani tribe alamhariya"
