It was a bright cold day in November, and the clocks were striking thirteen. Although the setting could have been reminiscent of 1984, it was, in actual fact, 2005. I picked up a copy of the newspaper and was struck by one of the front-page headlines. “Ban on Expats Aged 60”, it announced. I read on in incredulity. It had been decreed that any expatriate worker over the age of 60 would be denied permission to work by not having their visa renewed and, in addition to this, banned the recruitment of people of a similar age bracket from overseas. There was, it claimed, to be no exemption.
I remember feeling somewhat stunned by this sudden decision and wondered if the matter had been discussed well in advance with the employees it concerned. Perhaps these individuals had already been apprised of the fact that they were communally getting fired because of an accident of birth and had been given plenty of time to make alternative arrangements for where they would go next. Even this appeared to be a callous way in which to deal with those who had left their homes and their families to work among us. But then again, I thought to myself, this is after all a labor law and due to its obviously flawed and erroneous logic, it could very well be rescinded.
I mused upon the ludicrous dictate that had previously barred non-Saudis from working in the gold souks and how, at the time, even though it seemed like a frightfully bad idea (like all other pompous ill-thought out and delusional attempts at solving a problem without attempting to understand its dynamics in the first place) it had been implemented and then, after satisfying the self-fulfilling prophecy of being a failure, had been revoked. I still remember how the once vibrant and buzzing markets for jewelry brimming with customers and excited exchanges had been transformed into ghostly corridors devoid of trade. The Yemenis, who had lent their aptitude and commercial prowess to this highly lucrative arena had been evicted and the lure of the market had departed with them to other countries in the Gulf where entrepreneurial spirit is welcomed and entertained irrespective of the passport of the person possessing it. As the contents of the new stricture didn’t affect me personally I failed to really give it much thought.
A few days passed and I received an e-mail from a reader who had been one of the first to write to me when I started for Arab News about a year ago. What he said brought home the heartache and anguish that such an edict caused to the very people who have given so much of their lives to make the Kingdom the great nation that it is. He asked me whether I had heard about the new regulation and remarked upon how he found it “curious” that there had been no comments made about it in the press. I replied asking him what it was that he felt and, this was his response. “I’m not sure how I feel about it. I suppose it is a personal shock to realize you’re getting old when you certainly don’t feel old and expected to be here another five years. I’ve been here for 15 years on and off — over a decade total. My children have grown up without me. I feel like many expats that I no longer belong in my home country and I certainly don’t belong here. I think if the law holds, it will be an opportunity to find a more hospitable place to live and work: China is begging for teachers and while the money is a fraction of what Saudis pay, I have heard from friends I trust that it is a wonderful place to teach.”
It was through this correspondence that I learned how this ruling had come as a bolt from the blue to all of these foreigners, many of whom had worked in Saudi Arabia for decades. I shuddered to imagine how I would feel if I had spent much of my adult life on foreign shores and one morning I woke up to read the newspaper to find out that not only had I been terminated, but was no longer welcome in the very place that I had considered “home”. A rude awakening if ever there was one. As I had earlier surmised, the “law” has since then been annulled. Thank God for that. However, in light of this debacle and, if a track record is anything to go by, I would like to make a couple of recommendations to our friends at the ministry.
There is no doubt that Saudization is an essential and laudable ideal. But what you have to realize is that in order to achieve it in the most effective and comprehensive manner, as opposed to engaging in such knee-jerk and embarrassingly superficial responses, you must plan for it and refrain from implementing such ad hoc mandates.
Instead of trying to find ways of ridding yourselves of the potential goldmine of the expatriate community, you would be far better off to benefit from the wealth of expertise that you have readily available. For years you have utilized these wonderfully skilled and capable individuals to help build the infrastructure of this country. What’s more is that many of them too want to give something back for the time that they have spent here. Contrary to what you think, they are not mercenaries. They too take pride in the Kingdom’s achievements. Besides, rather than being governmental policy to determine which strata of the workforce it is that should be employed, it would be far more logical to leave such decisions to the employers themselves. If certain tasks require a great deal of understanding of the working practices within the Kingdom then it would be common sense to hire people who have lived and worked here for a long time regardless of how old they are.
We need to initiate strategic incentives whereby we seek the assistance of these very valuable members of society to educate us, train us and impart to us the knowledge and proficiency that will enable us to eventually become self-sufficient. Instead of replacing them with our own nationals, it may be more advantageous to utilize them in training programs within the workplace to bring our own people up to the mark.
It is not the age of the expatriate community that needs to be subjected to scrutiny, but the ability of the people who pass and reverse such laws at the drop of a hat. For it is not the number of years that defines wisdom, but the potential to make decisions based on sound judgment and the ability to stick to them.
(Lubna Hussain is a Saudi writer. She is based in Riyadh.)
