The Sultanate of Oman has undertaken admirable strides in institution building, policy modernisation and administrative reform. New laws have been promulgated, oversight bodies empowered and strategies unveiled for virtually every sector. And yet, a deeper, more elusive challenge remains untouched: our mindset.
It is no longer sufficient to build institutions without transforming the way we think, relate and govern. Just as laws codify order, the collective mindset of a society gives meaning and legitimacy to that order. In Oman’s case, if we do not transition from a politics of suspicion and rivalry to a culture of mutual trust and civic responsibility, our institutions will remain hollow vessels — well-designed, but weakly rooted.
Too often, reform efforts in Oman falter not because of technical incapacity but due to social and political habits rooted in older frameworks. Beneath the surface of administrative processes, a residue of tribal thinking lingers — where loyalties are drawn along narrow lines, where public roles are confused with personal fiefdoms and where rivalry, not collaboration, shapes decision-making.
This is not a critique of tribal identity, which remains an essential thread in Oman’s historical and social fabric. Rather, it is a critique of tribalisation — the reduction of national purpose to parochial interest. In a time when Oman seeks to unleash its potential in innovation, sustainability and economic diversification, this mindset is counterproductive.
When we speak of tribalism, it is vital to clarify that we are not referring solely to kin-based, ethnic, or regional affiliations. Tribalism today is often neo-tribal — based on interest groups, bureaucratic clans, professional loyalties, or informal patronage networks that behave with the same exclusivism and self-protection as traditional tribes. Whether it is a ministry guarding its turf, a department resisting oversight, or elite circles closing ranks to preserve influence, the logic is the same: loyalty to group over system and advantage for few over service to many. This form of tribalisation is no less corrosive to institutional health and national unity. It fragments the state, weakens accountability, and blocks the emergence of a genuinely meritocratic and responsive public sector. Reform, therefore, must confront not only inherited patterns of loyalty but also these modern tribes that operate under the guise of professionalism, yet obstruct the very institutions they claim to serve.
Building real institutions requires more than paperwork and pronouncements. It demands that individuals within the system believe in rules, fairness and common purpose. The most advanced regulatory framework will fail if its stewards see themselves as protectors of personal or group interest. Likewise, performance-driven policies are undermined when appointments are shaped by relational calculus, not merit.
If we want transparency, we must first desire truth more than favour. If we want innovation, we must value curiosity over control. If we want national cohesion, we must act from trust, not fear. In short, we must become citizens, not clients.
Some may argue that trust is dangerous in a context where bad actors exist. But this misses the point. Trust, in modern governance, is not blind optimism — it is institutionalised reciprocity. It is the shared understanding that if I play by the rules, the system will protect me. This is what unlocks productivity, investment and innovation.
In high-trust societies like Singapore, rules are predictable, enforcement is fair and governance is impersonal. The result? Economic dynamism, low corruption and national unity — despite the country’s ethnic, linguistic and religious diversity. Likewise, Finland and New Zealand consistently outperform peers not because of their resource endowments, but because of the mutual trust that binds state and society.
Oman can be no different. Our national aspiration must be to forge a post-tribal political culture — one where difference is a resource, not a threat and where loyalty to the Sultanate of Oman does not require intermediaries or factional guarantees.
Oman Vision 2040 articulates a future that is bold, knowledge-based and inclusive. But its success hinges on one critical ingredient: alignment between mindset and institution. For example, if we want the courts to be truly independent, we must resist the urge to intervene when outcomes displease us. If we want regulatory bodies to be robust, we must accept that they may sometimes say “no” — even to the powerful.
True institutionalisation means that people in authority internalise the limits of their power. It also means that citizens begin to expect, and demand, performance — not patronage.
This requires education, leadership by example and a decisive cultural shift across government, media, civil society and even family life. It also requires a new national narrative — one that celebrates critical thinking, open dialogue and pluralism under the umbrella of shared purpose.
We speak often of economic transformation, digital transformation and even institutional transformation. But perhaps the most profound change Oman needs is mental transformation — a conscious movement from scarcity to possibility, from distrust to dignity, from group survival to national flourishing.
Let us be clear: Oman is not short on vision, nor on technical know-how. What we must now confront is the emotional architecture of governance — the fears, suspicions and reflexes that pull us back into old patterns.
Our future will not be written by the smartest plans alone, but by the boldest shifts in how we relate to one another as a society.
Ahmed al Mukhaini
The author is a policy analyst
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