While American soldiers hop-scotch to and from wars in and around Kuwait under Bush I and II, Majed Al-Sabah was waging a very different war.

In the height of Desert Storm, he left to London in search of other bombshells — ones clad in Gucci and Prada and Dolce & Gabanna. He had ideas of fashioning a new Kuwait. And as the nephew of the Emir — and part of a royal family that has ruled the country for four decades — Majed could afford to be a visionary before his country really needed one.

Much to the dismay of his family, he sidestepped roles in politico’s war rooms for conversations in New York fashionistas’ board rooms. Over the past 2 decades, he has traveled to America and Europe as a cultural ambassador, proving that the Middle East and its booming people cannot be ignored.

Then, in 2002, once he convinced enough executives to sell their clothes in Kuwait, he made sure his accomplishment would not be lost on the consumers of the world: He built a 100,000 square foot fashion monolith in Kuwait City that can be seen from Gulf Air’s windows.

By contrast, in neighboring Iraq, tanks and jails and shrapnel seem only to cement the idea that our two cultures cannot stop butting heads. Schools, hospitals, universities are no longer standing — fashion bazaars are a pipe dream. Continued failures in the Operation for Iraqi Liberation (OIL) reveal open wounds and deep and festering sutures.

Is Majed’s fashionable Kuwait just a facade? A shallow desert oasis? An anomaly?

I don’t think its that simple. Superficial, most definitely. It’s fashion. And Majed, without meaning to, admits his efforts only impact the elite. (He maintains there is a market for his goods because a lot of families have enough money to keep at least 2 or 3 maids. The help, of course, don’t go into a businessman’s population census.)

Like any growth, changes happen at the surface. Sprouts start shallow.

But while firebrands and musclemen try to shove change down each other’s throats, Majed lets development and money do the talking. Sales are proving he’s right. Today, he’s been able to open up high-class fashion outlets beyond Kuwait, in Bahrain, UAE and Qatar. Top designers are jumping on board. A shift in perceptions is giving way to a shift in economy. And the hope is that the violence, too, will shift with it.

Entrepreneurs like Majed seem to understand a lesson still lost on our generals. You can’t transplant western ideas of success to eastern fronts.

Take MTV Arabia for example. It has been on the air in Arab states for the past month. But because of unexpected cultural differences, it’s having its share of growing pains. In an adapted US campaign, they’re asking users to participate by playing VJ and submitting their videos to give the channel a local feel.

But Majed is the first to point out they’re ignoring some key differences in his market. Families don’t usually allow children to have webcams in their home and children are hesitant to contribute without the guarantee of anonymity. Text messages — a staple of communication in the Middle East — avoids the risk of reprisal from their more conservative family members.

Executives trying to tap the profitable Arab market, Majed insist, must learn the subtleties of their communications.

Thankfully for them, he’s volunteered for the task. In his first act as the frontman for tourism to Kuwait, he’s posting on New York Times fashion and entertainment blog, The Moment. An its making a difference.

• Majed on MTV Arabia
• Majed on Fashion
• Time on Majed (before Sadaam’s fall)