Another common cultural phenomenon is widespread reluctance to admit ignorance, even about obscure or trivial things.
The very concept of public opinion in highly secretive
Saudi Arabia is almost an oxymoron. Hard data are difficult to come by,
and even rarer is information about controversial and strategically
critical current issues: views about military action against Iran,
corruption and the state of civil liberties within the kingdom,
religious extremism and al Qaeda, and donations to other mujahideen.
Yet I was able to obtain exactly this kind of data by working with the
new Princeton, N.J.-based firm Pechter Middle East Polls and an
established regional survey team.
The results are eye-opening. A third of the Saudi public would approve
a U.S. military strike against Iran's nuclear program, and a fourth is
even willing to say it would support an Israeli operation. A solid
majority of Saudis want local elections, which have been postponed for
two years. Solid majorities also say that corruption and religious
extremism are serious problems in their country. At the same time, 36
percent call it "an Islamic duty" to donate funds to "armed mujahideen
fighting in various places around the world," but only about half that
percentage voices support for al Qaeda.
Most intriguing of all, however, is that none of these hot-button
issues ranks very high on the public's agenda compared with economic
concerns. In fact, a majority of urban citizens in this oil-rich
country name inflation, unemployment, or poverty as Saudi Arabia's most
important national priority.
Gathering the data to draw these conclusions was a unique challenge,
but not insurmountable. There are two sets of practical difficulties
that limit pollsters working in this conservative and tightly
controlled country: political or cultural constraints, and special
sampling challenges. Luckily, after 25 years in the field, I have
developed a few tricks for gathering information in societies such as
these. One very valuable tool, which I pioneered in the region during
the 1990-1991 Iraq-Kuwait crisis, is to piggyback some political
questions on a commercial product survey -- about cars, shampoo, media
audiences, airlines, almost anything. Such surveys are now fairly
routine in most Arab countries, and this "double-edged" polling
technique has a solid track record. This strategy has the benefit of
greatly reducing the odds of interference by local authorities. At the
same time, it has the added virtue of putting respondents more at ease
with "icebreaker" questions before broaching sensitive social or
political issues.
Occasionally the transition from one topic to the next can be a bit
awkward, but it works. During the mid-1990s, while I was monitoring a
survey in one Arab village, we tacked on a slew of very direct
political questions to a long marketing survey about the plastic toy
Legos, of all things. One respondent was convinced that there must be
some connection between politics and Legos and persistently asked me to
explain how the two topics were related. I'm not sure I was able to
persuade him that there really was no link, except the convenience and
cost savings of combining the two totally unrelated topics into one
survey. Nevertheless, even this interview produced clear, thoughtful,
and apparently quite candid responses to all the questions on the form,
whether about Legos or politics.
Telephone polls, while temptingly easy to organize, are widely viewed
with suspicion in the Middle East. They are therefore distinctly
inferior to in-person interviews, especially about anything
controversial. Interviewers must be drawn from the area, allowing them
to fit easily into society, and also to ensure that only Saudi citizens
are sampled, not the millions of Arabic-speaking guest workers -- but
not too local, in that they are personally known in the neighborhood.
Scrupulously observing gender divisions is also vital: Women interview
women; men interview men.
Another common cultural phenomenon is widespread reluctance to admit
ignorance, even about obscure or trivial things. So, when asking if
respondents are aware of various items or issues, it can be useful to
include a completely fictitious term on the list, as a kind of reality
check. In this Saudi poll, a remarkable 70 percent of the urban public
said it was aware of the country's Majlis al-Shura, a royally
appointed, purely advisory council that seldom makes any real news. In
retrospect, I wish I had also asked a "control" question to check on
the validity of this figure.
In a recent commercial survey in Egypt and Jordan, for example, I asked
if certain brand names were American or not -- and I made up a brand
called "George's Sportswear" out of thin air and put it on the list
along with such real brands as Crest toothpaste, Xerox, and Nescafe.
Sure enough, about half of Egyptians and Jordanians voiced an opinion
about whether "George's Sportswear" is an American or a non-American
brand -- even though it really does not exist at all. I have obtained
similar results on such fictitious questions in Israel, too. The useful
lesson learned is to take findings on similar questions in these
countries with a large grain of salt. I'm not really sure why
respondents in the United States and Europe seem more willing to
concede that they have never heard of something; but if asked a
follow-up question, they will often venture an opinion about it anyway!
Translation issues can also crop up, sometimes with significant
implications. For example, in the current Saudi poll, one question
originally submitted in English asked about support for "armed
mujahideen." This initially came back in Arabic as a softer "Muslim
mujahideen" -- a tiny slip of the pen in one Arabic letter, but one
that had to be hastily corrected before the questionnaires were printed.
When it comes to the unique challenges of achieving a representative
population sample in Saudi Arabia, ideal methods have to be adjusted to
local realities. In such a traditional society, and one where opinion
polls are so rare, few people chosen at random would invite a total
stranger into their house and answer his nosy questions -- and even
fewer women would agree to do so. The result is a survey that is
admittedly imperfect, but still representative of the major population
centers -- and a whole lot better than the guesswork, anecdotes, and
stereotypes that often pass for analyses of Saudi public opinion.
The basic method applied in Saudi Arabia is to use "hybrid" samples. To
accomplish this, approximately 100 locations are selected at random and
distributed according to population size. While an ideal poll would
then select households strictly at random, we were forced to survey our
respondents based on "referral" (or "snowball sampling"). In each
location, one respondent refers the interviewer to another household,
which is not interviewed -- this is done so that people cannot
"recommend" others they think will give the "right" answers. Instead,
someone in the second household refers the interviewer to a third
household. That is where the next individual respondent is selected,
this time again at random. This is the only practical way in Saudi
society for a stranger to (literally) get behind the high household
walls to conduct a survey.
In conducting our most recent poll, we doubled the number of interviews
to 1,000 -- twice the standard size of many surveys -- to ensure that
our sample was representative. As further insurance, we checked the
sample's demographics (gender, age, education, social class,
occupation) against statistics for the total population and if
necessary adjusted our numbers. Those statistics must be gleaned from
hundreds of previous surveys because Saudi Arabia does not publish
detailed census data.
In addition, for logistical and other practical reasons, this sample is
an urban rather than a national one. It was taken in the three major
metropolitan areas of Jeddah, Riyadh, and Dammam/al-Khobar, which span
the country's western, central, and eastern regions. This means that
some fairly large urban areas were left out, including the Sunni
fundamentalist strongholds in Mecca and Medina in the west and al-Qasim
in the center. Also not sampled was the Shiite concentration in
al-Qatif and its vicinity in the east, whose relations with the
dominant Sunni majority are not always smooth. What we have here, then,
is a survey of "major metro" Saudi public opinion.
How much does any of this really matter, given that Saudi Arabia is
hardly a democracy where public opinion can oust the government or even
directly influence public policy? The fact is that many autocratic Arab
governments are nevertheless concerned, to varying degrees, about
popular attitudes in their societies. Some, like Egypt and Jordan,
actually maintain very competent official pollsters for this very
reason.
One recent illustration: In late November 2009, in the context of
rising Arab-Iranian tensions, this poll showed that most Saudis and
Egyptians did not want their governments to offer satellite time to
Al-Alam, Iran's Arabic-language TV channel. By January of this year,
Al-Alam was ordered off the air on Egypt's Nilesat and Saudi Arabia's
Arabsat broadcasts. This was probably not entirely a coincidence.
But when it comes to critical issues of their own internal or external
security, Arab governments tend to override public opinion as
necessary. Over the past decade, most of these governments have quietly
kept close ties with the United States, even when polls proved the Iraq
war had turned popular sentiment in a sharply anti-American direction.
The Saudi government has so far shown little appetite for a serious
crackdown on corruption, even though polls show most of the public sees
it as a serious problem. Egypt and Jordan have adopted tough postures
toward Hamas, despite polls indicating that the group remains popular
(though less than before) in those countries.
Most Arab governments, in other words, are constantly juggling prudence
and popularity. When the choice is unavoidable and clear-cut, prudence
usually wins. The precise policy outcome, however, is often some messy
mixture of these two imperatives -- for example, discreet cooperation
with Washington, hiding behind stridently anti-American official and
semiofficial media. Analyzing public opinion, even in these
autocracies, is the first step in figuring out how decisive, or how
messy, Arab policy decisions are likely to be.
David Pollock is a senior fellow at The Washington Institute, focusing
on the political dynamics of Middle Eastern countries. He is the author
of the Institute's 2008 Policy Focus Slippery Polls: Uses and Abuses of
Opinion Surveys from Arab States.
ForeignPolicy.com