Nader al-Mutairi, left, and his cousin Enad al-Mutairi, on the outskirts of Riyadh, Saudi Arabia, try to balance Islam’s strict rules with the desire for romance.

Saudi men in Riyadh shopping for cellphones, which give them a chance to contact women in secret and avoid embarrassing their families.

By MICHAEL SLACKMAN

RIYADH, Saudi Arabia - Saudi Arabia’s young men and women may chafe against the religious and cultural demands of the Muslim world’s most conservative society. At times, they may even try to evade them. And they can be merciless in their condemnation of those who flout them too brazenly.
But what stood out in dozens of interviews with young men and women here was how completely they are committed to perpetuating the rules with their own children.
That suggests that Saudi Arabia’s strict interpretation of Islam, largely uncontested at home by the next generation and spread abroad by Saudi money in a time of religious revival, will increasingly shape how Muslims around the world will live their faith.
Consider, for example, Nader al- Mutairi. One recent day, he was intent on getting the phone number of one of the young women working as a receptionist at a dental clinic. He stiffened his shoulders, clenched his fists and said, “Let’s do our mission.” Then he stepped into the cool, empty lobby of the clinic.
Asking a woman for her number can cause a young man anxiety anywhere. But in Saudi Arabia, getting caught with an unrelated woman can mean arrest, a possible flogging and dishonor, the worst penalty of all in a society where preserving a family’s reputation depends on faithful adherence to a strict code of separation between the sexes.
Above all, Nader, 22, feared that his cousin Enad al-Mutairi would find out that he was breaking the rules. Nader is engaged to Enad’s 17-year-old sister, Sarah. “Please don’t talk to Enad about this,” he said. “He will kill me.”
As Nader entered the clinic his resolve faded. His shoulders drooped, his hands unclenched and his voice began to quiver.
“I am not lucky today; let’s leave,” he said.
Young men like Nader and Enad are taught that they are the guardians of the family’s reputation, expected to shield their female relatives from shame and avoid dishonoring their families by their own behavior. It is a classic example of how the Saudis have melded their faith with their desert tribal traditions.
“One of the most important Arab traditions is honor,” Enad said. “If my sister goes in the street and someone assaults her, she won’t be able to protect herself. The nature of men is that men are more rational. Women are not rational. With one or two or three words, a man can get what he wants from a woman. ”
Enad, a 20-year-old police officer, has an explosive temper and a fondness for teasing. Nader is soft-spoken, with a gentle smile and an inclination to follow rather than lead.
They are more than cousins; they are lifelong friends and confidants. That is often the case in Saudi Arabia, where families are frequently large and insular.
Enad and Nader are among several dozen Mutairi cousins who since childhood have spent virtually all their free time together .
They are average young Saudi men, not wealthy, not poor, not from the more liberal south or east, but residents of the nation’s conservative heartland, Riyadh. It is a flat, clean city of five million people that gleams with oil wealth, two glass skyscrapers and roads clogged with oversize S.U.V.’s. It offers young men very little in the way of entertainment, with no movie theaters and few sports facilities. If they are unmarried, they cannot even enter the malls where women shop.
If there is one accessory that allows a bit of self-expression for Saudi men, it is their cellphones. Nader’s is filled with pictures of pretty women taken from the Internet, tight face shots of singers and actresses. His ring tone is a love song in Arabic (one of the most popular ring tones among his cousins is the theme song to “Titanic”).
“I’m very romantic,” Nader said at a hotel cafe. “I don’t like action movies. I like romance. ‘Titanic’ is No. 1. I like ‘Head Over Heels.’ Romance is love.”
To Nader and Enad, prayer is essential. In Enad’s view, jihad is, too, not the more moderate approach that emphasizes doing good deeds, but the idea of picking up a weapon and fighting in places like Iraq and Afghanistan.
“Jihad is not a crime; it is a duty,” Enad said in casual conversation.
“If someone comes into your house, will you stand there or will you fight them-” Enad said, leaning forward, his short, thick hands resting on his knees. “Arab or Muslim lands are like one house.”
The concept is such a fundamental principle, so embedded in their psyches, that they do not see any conflict between their belief in armed jihad and their work as security agents of the state. As a police officer, Enad helps conduct raids on suspected terrorist hideouts. Nader works in the military as a communications officer. Each earns about 4,000 riyals a month, about $1,200, not nearly enough to become independent from their parents.
There are eight other children in the house where Enad lives with his father, his mother and his father’s second wife. The apartment has little furniture, with nothing on the walls. The men and boys gather in a living room off the main hall, sitting on soiled beige wall-to-wall carpeting, watching a television propped up on a crooked cabinet. The women have a similar living room, nearly identical, behind closed doors.
The house remains a haven for Enad and his cousins, who often spend their free time sleeping, watching American television talk shows like Dr. Phil and Oprah with subtitles, drinking cardamom coffee - and smoking.
Nader sneaks secret phone calls and text messages with Sarah, his fiancee. When she calls, or writes a message, his phone flashes “My Love” over two interlocked red hearts.
These conversations are taboo and could cause a dispute between two families. Enad teases Nader, saying, “In a year you will find my sister with a mustache and him in the kitchen.”“Not true,” Nader said, mustering as much defiance as he could. “I am a man.”