The Line, a futuristic smart city planned in Saudi Arabia’s Tabuk Province (9).
By Hamza Yousif
In Riyadh, Formula E races zip past centuries-old fortresses, while in Jeddah, art installations celebrate a national “renaissance.” On social media, Saudi youth post tributes to a kingdom in transformation, proud of reforms that were unthinkable just a decade ago. These images reflect the broader ambitions of Vision 2030, Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman’s sweeping plan to modernize Saudi Arabia’s economy and society. But beneath the spectacle lies a more profound objective: the reconstruction of Saudi national identity. Central to this project is the embrace of civic nationalism, the idea that allegiance to the state, rather than to tribe, sect, or family, should define who belongs (1). The state is promoting a vision of national unity grounded in shared pride, equal citizenship, and forward-looking patriotism. Yet this raises a fundamental question: how civic, and how inclusive, is this emerging identity?
Vision 2030 is often described as a technocratic roadmap toward a knowledge-based, post-oil economy (6). But it is also a deeply political, even ideological, initiative. It speaks in the language of national pride, citizen engagement, and cultural renewal, presenting Saudis as equal partners in a shared journey of transformation. In theory, this aligns with the principles of civic nationalism, a nation bound not by blood or belief but by common purpose and equal rights. However, as political theorist Taras Kuzio has argued, the notion of a purely civic nation is more myth than fact (1). Even the most liberal democracies have been built upon ethnic, cultural, and historical exclusions, exclusions that are often masked by the rhetoric of universalism but remain deeply embedded in the structure of the state (1).
The Saudi case reflects this contradiction in sharp relief. Citizenship remains largely inherited and naturalisation is rare, while millions of foreign workers, essential to the kingdom’s infrastructure and economy, are excluded from political life entirely (5). Within the citizenryitself, layers of hierarchy persist: “original” Saudis are often privileged over naturalised individuals and stateless groups like the bidun. Sectarian divides further complicate the picture. Shi’i citizens, while technically part of the national body, frequently face systemic discrimination, state surveillance, and social marginalisation (8). The promise of equality under a civic model rings hollow when access to rights, resources, and representation is stratified by lineage, sect, or legal status.
What emerges from this context is not a civic nationalism rooted in pluralist inclusion, but rather a model of civic loyalty, a performative, state-led identity built through national holidays, patriotic festivals, revised textbooks, and a burgeoning entertainment sector (6). This version of nationalism encourages pride and obedience but not necessarily dissent or political participation. It is a top-down project, in which the citizen’s role is to embody the state’s narrative rather than to help shape it.
Simultaneously, Vision 2030 has brought about significant changes to Saudi Arabia’s social fabric (6). A rising generation—largely urban, well-educated, and digitally fluent—is showing a diminishing attachment to traditional tribal affiliations and rigid religious norms, instead gravitating toward the image of a modern, cohesive nation (4). Government-led cultural programs, new national museums, and high-profile sporting events have cultivated a renewed sense of historical awareness, enabling many young Saudis to see themselves as partof a broader national endeavour (3). This generational transformation is noteworthy, as it reflects a shifting political consciousness. Yet, it is taking shape within a tightly controlled environment—one that restricts independent civic engagement, suppresses dissent, and limits the sharing of political power (7). Under these conditions, civic nationalism operates less as a lived political experience and more as a state-crafted narrative—carefully curated, deliberately constrained, and strategically deployed.
Genuine civic nationalism requires more than curated narratives and symbolic inclusion. It depends on legal equality, institutional accountability, and the protection of minority rights, foundations that allow for pluralism, participation, and dissent (4). Kuzio’s work reminds us that even when a state speaks the language of modernity and unity, the boundaries of belonging are often drawn through older, more exclusive lines (1). Saudi Arabia’s new nationalism may appear to offer a break with the past, but its core remains selective. It invites citizens to embrace a grand collective vision, while simultaneously defining, often narrowly, who qualifies as part of that collective.
The result is a disciplined community, not a civic nation. It is loyal, proud, and forward- facing, but ultimately shaped by the state’s own definitions of identity, legitimacy, and participation. Vision 2030 may rebrand Saudi Arabia for a new era, but until the structures of inclusion expand meaningfully, its nationalism will remain performative rather than participatory, an identity granted rather than co-authored.
Bibliography(1) Kuzio, Taras. 2002. “The Myth of the Civic State: A Critical Survey of Hans Kohn’s Framework for Understanding Nationalism.” Ethnic and Racial Studies 25(1): 20–39.
(2) Le Renard, Amélie. 2014. A Society of Young Women: Opportunities of Place, Power, and Reform in Saudi Arabia. Stanford: Stanford University Press.
(3) Al-Rasheed, Madawi. 2013. A Most Masculine State: Gender, Politics and Religion in Saudi Arabia. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
(4) Okruhlik, Gwenn. “Empowering civility through nationalism: Reformist Islam and belonging in Saudi Arabia.” Remaking Muslim politics: Pluralism, contestation, democratization 15 (2005): 189.
(5) Kingdom of Saudi Arabia. The Saudi Arabian Citizenship System. Ministry of Interior, Agency of Civil Affairs. Published January 25, 1955.https://www.moi.gov.sa/wps/wcm/connect/121c03004d4bb7c98e2cdfbed7ca8368/EN
_saudi_nationality_system.pdf?MOD=AJPERES. Accessed March 24, 2025.
(6) Vision 2030 Kingdom of Saudi Arabia. 2016. Vision 2030: Kingdom of Saudi Arabia.https://www.vision2030.gov.sa
(7) Caruso, Antonella. “Saudi Arabia Still Treats Shiites as Second-Class Citizens.” Foreign Policy, May 11, 2021. https://foreignpolicy.com/2021/05/11/mohammed-bin-salman-mbs-saudi-arabia-still-treats-shiites-second-class-citizens/.
(8) Aldosari, Khalid. “NEOM Uses One-Fifth of World’s Steel.” Arabian Gulf Business Insight, October 2024. https://www.agbi.com/giga-projects/2024/10/neom-uses-one- fifth-of-worlds-steel/.
Identity Hunters 