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Cambridge Middle East Studies #45
Joyriding in Riyadh: Oil, Urbanism, and Road Revolt
Why do young Saudis, night after night, joyride and skid cars on Riyadh's avenues? Who are these “drifters” who defy public order and private property? What drives their revolt? Based on four years of fieldwork in Riyadh, Pascal Menoret's Joyriding in Riyadh explores the social fabric of the city and connects it to Saudi Arabia's recent history. Car drifting emerged after Riyadh was planned, and oil became the main driver of the economy. For young rural migrants, it was a way to reclaim alienating and threatening urban spaces. For the Saudi state, it jeopardized its most basic operations: managing public spaces and enforcing law and order. A police crackdown soon targeted car drifting, feeding a nationwide moral panic led by religious activists who framed youth culture as a public issue. The book retraces the politicization of Riyadh youth and shows that, far from being a marginal event, car drifting is embedded in the country's social violence and economic inequality.
263 pages, Paperback
First published April 16, 2014
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Displaying 1 - 14 of 14 reviews
May 22, 2016
This text was an excellent read and a pleasure to get through.
I particularly enjoyed that the author spends two entire chapters delving into the history of urban planning in Saudi Arabia. This allowed the reader to see how the development of cities and the shape their growth takes is structured by ideological considerations integrated into the planning itself by urban planners and authorities.
The way urban space is molded, formed, and constituted has tremendous implications for how urban lives are lived, and Menoret greatly strengthened his argument regarding the important and political nature of joyriding in Riyadh by delving into the forces that joyriding directly confronts.
Menoret mentions on page 12, ”Joyriding in Riyadh … analyzes networks of power and knowledge that created the space of Riyadh, and by exploring joyriding as an extreme practice that continuously ‘un-builds’ the city.”
Elsewhere he notes that the book “looks at both drifting and its criminalization as embedded in global networks of power and knowledge”, not as an extreme manifestation of Saudi youth criminality (5).
It would be hard to imagine such a powerful argument related to joyriding being as convincing as it is without the larger urban history he provides.
This was a fascinating read on petro-urbanism, oil, youth, sexuality, and Saudi Arabia, recommended for those interested in these topics.
I particularly enjoyed that the author spends two entire chapters delving into the history of urban planning in Saudi Arabia. This allowed the reader to see how the development of cities and the shape their growth takes is structured by ideological considerations integrated into the planning itself by urban planners and authorities.
The way urban space is molded, formed, and constituted has tremendous implications for how urban lives are lived, and Menoret greatly strengthened his argument regarding the important and political nature of joyriding in Riyadh by delving into the forces that joyriding directly confronts.
Menoret mentions on page 12, ”Joyriding in Riyadh … analyzes networks of power and knowledge that created the space of Riyadh, and by exploring joyriding as an extreme practice that continuously ‘un-builds’ the city.”
Elsewhere he notes that the book “looks at both drifting and its criminalization as embedded in global networks of power and knowledge”, not as an extreme manifestation of Saudi youth criminality (5).
It would be hard to imagine such a powerful argument related to joyriding being as convincing as it is without the larger urban history he provides.
This was a fascinating read on petro-urbanism, oil, youth, sexuality, and Saudi Arabia, recommended for those interested in these topics.
October 17, 2016
« Comment peut-on être saoudien ? ». Chacun ou presque a aujourd’hui son opinion sur la politique qu’il conviendrait de mener avec l’Arabie saoudite. Les plus réalistes estiment qu’il s’agit d’un pôle de stabilité dans un environnement régional troublé ; les moins cyniques s’alarment au contraire du soutien aveugle apporté par l’Occident à un des régimes les plus rétrogrades au monde. Mais qui connaît l’Arabie saoudite ? Si, depuis l’arrivée au pouvoir du roi Salmane en janvier 2015 et la sombre guerre de succession qui se joue déjà autour du monarque octogénaire, la gérontocratie qui la gouverne éveille désormais la curiosité, la société saoudienne demeure opaque à l’observateur étranger. Publiée en 2011 aux éditions Dalloz, la thèse de Amélie Le Renard « femmes et espaces publics en Arabie saoudite » levait le voile sur le sort fait aux femmes. C’est aux hommes que Pascal Menoret s’intéresse.
Il le fait par un biais surprenant et a priori déroutant : l’étude des rodéos urbains auxquels se livrent les jeunes marginaux de Riyad pour échapper au sentiment d’ennui (tufush) qui les submerge et pour manifester leur colère contre l’étouffante répression. Il ne faudrait pas réduire le « Saudi drifting » à une déclinaison moyen-orientale de « Fast and Furious ». Les conducteurs qui s’y adonnent sont plus souvent des bédouins lumpenprolétarisés que des enfants de sheikhs ; les voitures qu’ils utilisent sont des berlines japonaises, pas des voitures de sport customisées.
Dans une « ville sur autoroute », déshumanisée, sans centre géographique, convertie au tout-automobile, les jeunes essaient de se réapproprier un espace dont ils se sentent exclus. Dans un pays d’où toute forme d’expression politique est bannie, où le clientélisme règne en maître, où la surveillance policière est omniprésente, où la séparation sourcilleuse des genres exacerbe les frustrations, les jeunes qui veulent mal se conduire conduisent mal. Les pilotes ne se contentent pas de faire crisser des pneus. L’alcool et les drogues s’échangent (le captagon est la plus répandue). Les tabous sexuels sont violés. Le monde des rodéos renvoie « l’image macabre et inversée de la société saoudienne » (p. 191)
Pascal Menoret a d’abord publié son livre en anglais chez Cambridge University Press en 2014. Profitant d’une résidence d’écrivain, il l’a traduit dans notre langue et publié en France. S’il reprend une partie de la thèse d’histoire qu’il a soutenue en 2008 à Paris-I sous la direction de Nadine Picaudou, sa démarche est volontiers interdisciplinaire. Elle emprunte moins à l’histoire qu’à l’urbanisme. Pascal Menoret a exploité les archives personnelles de l’architecte Constantinos Doxiadis qui, au début des années 70, a entrepris la rénovation urbaine de Riyad, essayant, comme Le Corbusier à Chandigarh ou Niemeyer à Brasilia, de forger la « ville du futur », mais se heurtant aux intérêts patrimoniaux des sheikhs.
Mais c’est surtout à l’anthropologie – qu’il enseigne désormais aux Etats-Unis – que la démarche de Pascal Menoret est redevable. Il relate ses deux années de terrain à Riyad à la première personne du singulier, sans hésiter à évoquer les difficultés qu’il a rencontrées. C’est que la société saoudienne ne se laisse pas pénétrer facilement. Pascal Menoret raconte avec beaucoup d’humilité la méfiance qu’il a suscitée à raison de ses origines – il n’est pas musulman et était suspecté d’être un espion – et les résistances qui lui ont été opposées – il a dû renoncer à enquêter dans les tribus bédouines du Haut Najd pour se concentrer sur les réseaux informels de la capitale. Au-delà de ce qu’il nous apprend sur la société saoudienne, son livre est un modèle de recherche en anthropologie politique.
Il le fait par un biais surprenant et a priori déroutant : l’étude des rodéos urbains auxquels se livrent les jeunes marginaux de Riyad pour échapper au sentiment d’ennui (tufush) qui les submerge et pour manifester leur colère contre l’étouffante répression. Il ne faudrait pas réduire le « Saudi drifting » à une déclinaison moyen-orientale de « Fast and Furious ». Les conducteurs qui s’y adonnent sont plus souvent des bédouins lumpenprolétarisés que des enfants de sheikhs ; les voitures qu’ils utilisent sont des berlines japonaises, pas des voitures de sport customisées.
Dans une « ville sur autoroute », déshumanisée, sans centre géographique, convertie au tout-automobile, les jeunes essaient de se réapproprier un espace dont ils se sentent exclus. Dans un pays d’où toute forme d’expression politique est bannie, où le clientélisme règne en maître, où la surveillance policière est omniprésente, où la séparation sourcilleuse des genres exacerbe les frustrations, les jeunes qui veulent mal se conduire conduisent mal. Les pilotes ne se contentent pas de faire crisser des pneus. L’alcool et les drogues s’échangent (le captagon est la plus répandue). Les tabous sexuels sont violés. Le monde des rodéos renvoie « l’image macabre et inversée de la société saoudienne » (p. 191)
Pascal Menoret a d’abord publié son livre en anglais chez Cambridge University Press en 2014. Profitant d’une résidence d’écrivain, il l’a traduit dans notre langue et publié en France. S’il reprend une partie de la thèse d’histoire qu’il a soutenue en 2008 à Paris-I sous la direction de Nadine Picaudou, sa démarche est volontiers interdisciplinaire. Elle emprunte moins à l’histoire qu’à l’urbanisme. Pascal Menoret a exploité les archives personnelles de l’architecte Constantinos Doxiadis qui, au début des années 70, a entrepris la rénovation urbaine de Riyad, essayant, comme Le Corbusier à Chandigarh ou Niemeyer à Brasilia, de forger la « ville du futur », mais se heurtant aux intérêts patrimoniaux des sheikhs.
Mais c’est surtout à l’anthropologie – qu’il enseigne désormais aux Etats-Unis – que la démarche de Pascal Menoret est redevable. Il relate ses deux années de terrain à Riyad à la première personne du singulier, sans hésiter à évoquer les difficultés qu’il a rencontrées. C’est que la société saoudienne ne se laisse pas pénétrer facilement. Pascal Menoret raconte avec beaucoup d’humilité la méfiance qu’il a suscitée à raison de ses origines – il n’est pas musulman et était suspecté d’être un espion – et les résistances qui lui ont été opposées – il a dû renoncer à enquêter dans les tribus bédouines du Haut Najd pour se concentrer sur les réseaux informels de la capitale. Au-delà de ce qu’il nous apprend sur la société saoudienne, son livre est un modèle de recherche en anthropologie politique.
November 15, 2018
Simply brilliant
October 28, 2014
Anyone working with Saudi youth should read this important and unusual ethnographic study of how some Saudi young men cope with the stress of their society. Having worked with them both in Saudi Arabia and the U.S. for more than 35 years, I discovered very interesting (and sometimes surprising) insights into the Saudi, Arab, Middle Eastern, and possibly even Muslim psyche.
The French are superior anthropologists, again proven in this book. Extensively researched and based on primary resources, Menoret reveals the undercurrents that, for example, produce heightened Islamism and reactions to it by the people raised in such societies.
I would like to read a similar study of Saudi females and how they cope with stress within Saudi Arabia--their equivalent of daredevil joyriding.
The French are superior anthropologists, again proven in this book. Extensively researched and based on primary resources, Menoret reveals the undercurrents that, for example, produce heightened Islamism and reactions to it by the people raised in such societies.
I would like to read a similar study of Saudi females and how they cope with stress within Saudi Arabia--their equivalent of daredevil joyriding.
May 25, 2022
This book's title is something of a misnomer. It is really an anthropological assessment of Saudi Arabia, with a focus on poor Saudis (especially Bedouins) and how they have coped with changes in the country since the oil boom. The author did some fieldwork among communities of joyriders (who put on informal car shows with stolen cars) and Islamists, but he had difficulty gaining the trust of both communities, so his direct observations are somewhat limited. He provides something of an alternative history of Saudi Arabia, focusing on the poor and marginalized (native Saudis, rather than migrants) rather than the rich or middle class. It provides some insight into this population that is not typically found in other sources, and is valuable from that perspective.
February 7, 2026
A very pleasant surprise—this was a recommended reading for the anthropology component of the introductory Middle East course. We were only assigned the first two chapters, but I ended up reading it in one sitting. Menoret originally set out, with French funding, to study Saudi youth and Islamism. His fieldwork took him through Bedouin tribes, youth gatherings, and other ethnographic sites, yet the project ultimately centered on the phenomenon of illegal street racing among young Saudi men in desolate urban peripheries. Those passages read almost like scenes from a film or fan fiction.
As an anthropological work, the book seeks to interpret road violence as a product of political and economic repression. From there, Menoret traces broader transformations in Saudi society following the postwar period—especially after the oil windfall of the 1973 oil crisis—including Riyadh’s evolution into a modernist, car-centered city; real estate development authorized through royal patronage networks; and the marginalization of Bedouins and migrant laborers. Against this backdrop, late-night street racing by young men takes on the character of a form of (ultimately powerless) resistance.
Given China’s own experiences of rapid urbanization, rural-to-urban migration, and a remarkably rich landscape of youth subcultures, much of this felt oddly familiar. At times, reading a French scholar’s astonished depiction of certain forms of repression was even faintly amusing, and I occasionally felt the analysis leaned toward over-interpretation.
As an anthropological work, the book seeks to interpret road violence as a product of political and economic repression. From there, Menoret traces broader transformations in Saudi society following the postwar period—especially after the oil windfall of the 1973 oil crisis—including Riyadh’s evolution into a modernist, car-centered city; real estate development authorized through royal patronage networks; and the marginalization of Bedouins and migrant laborers. Against this backdrop, late-night street racing by young men takes on the character of a form of (ultimately powerless) resistance.
Given China’s own experiences of rapid urbanization, rural-to-urban migration, and a remarkably rich landscape of youth subcultures, much of this felt oddly familiar. At times, reading a French scholar’s astonished depiction of certain forms of repression was even faintly amusing, and I occasionally felt the analysis leaned toward over-interpretation.
October 1, 2017
Very interesting topic and findings but could have really benefited from a few editorial rounds to clarify narrative and tone down emotive language...author's frustrations get in the way some times.
January 5, 2018
4.5 stars.
October 21, 2025
Read 4 class tbh was hoping for it to be more engaging wayyy to wordy
January 3, 2015
I also generally enjoyed this book (for my political science class), but it was more of an enjoyment of everything I had learned and Menoret's overarching message (I suppose similar to Cole's). Menoret's writing is a bit dry at times, but he writes history and stories of his fieldwork so compellingly.
October 1, 2016
Written like a long-winded PhD thesis, this book could have really benefitted from an editor before mass publication. The topic is interesting, but so much of the writing did not serve to move the narrative forward, that I eventually had to put it down.
July 26, 2015
An outstanding book on how we turned a major resource of ours -the youth- into criminals.
October 16, 2015
Certainly a very interesting and fun read. Must disclaim, however, that some facts in the book are questionable.
Displaying 1 - 14 of 14 reviews