The King of Saudi Arabia died a few days ago and this was universally considered to be a Big Deal. The Saudi regent is one of a handful of monarchs in the world who still wield absolute control over their country; by virtue of Saudi’s gluttonous oil reserves, he also pretty much controls the world. This, and the country’s abhorrent record on any human rights front ever, made the laudatory eulogies pouring out from world leaders that much more awkward. King Abdullah was hailed as a “messenger of peace” and “scion of change”. Most memorable, however, was the comment that issued from the head of the IMF’s mouth, who called the late king a strong but discreet advocate of women’s rights. Remember that women can’t drive in Saudi Arabia, not even discreetly.
This is not a surprise. It’s just a fact that no one messes with you if you own half the world’s oil reserves and also run the Muslim Holy cities. Literally no one. The weird thing about Saudi Arabia in public discourse is that it usually isn’t there. When talking about the war on terror, freedom of speech, religious tolerance, equality, religious extremism, the spread of militant Islam, Sunni/Shia divide et al, it’s like Saudi Arabia doesn’t exist. Iran does, mind you, as do Pakistan, Syria, Afghanistan, Somalia and Yemen. But never ever Saudi Arabia. It’s a duplicitous pact signed by the leaders of the so-called Free World. The communal blindness when it comes to Saudi Arabia proves that money does, to lean unfairly on the Cabaret song, indeed make the world go round. Observe: Less than a fortnight after the world leaders marched in Paris to show solidarity for Freedom of Speech, practically all of them were at the funeral of the head of state that – how does one put this? – does not place a particularly very high value on that commodity. I suppose they showed the same tolerance for Gaddafi and Assad. Actually, of course they did. Assad’s wife was in French Vogue the month the civil war began, talking about her favorite tea cups and fabrics. Not to suggest that the King is a despotic ruler who controls his people with vicious totalitarianism. For shame!
Most of my digital TV feed consists of Arab channels, a fact I discovered only when my regularly scheduled programing of Polish ads for bunion surgery and Lebanese soap operas was replaced with CCTV coverage of the King’s funeral. It was fascinating to see members of the House of Saud – all 100,000 of them – milling about on TV in front of cameras, the consternation apparent on their faces. Practically everyone looked very stressed out (while managing to also look glorious in their sweeping robes) and I don’t blame ‘em. The succession to the Saudi throne is absurdly vague. The royal family is notoriously secretive, lavishly wealthy. Like a papal election, the business of succession in Saudi Arabia is deeply complicated. This has less to do with centuries of precedent than it does with decades of denial. Power passes from brother to brother rather than father to son, leaving lots of room for murderous machinations and last-minute alliances. King Abdullah was widely rumored to have died a few days before the Kingdom announced it, giving the next man time to consolidate his position. I’m convinced that the true action isn’t taking place in front of the cameras, or in a room full of men, but rather in the in the quarters of the women, hidden powerhouses of intrigue that are constantly jostling to promote their sons and brothers and husbands to better positions. (At least that’s what The Tudors has taught me.)
The new monarch, King Salman, is 79 years old. He has a pleasant face, and if newsroom rumors are to be believed, he is suffering from creeping dementia, which is sad. This is a problem not only for Saudi Arabia but for everyone. I can’t think of another country in the world that has as much of an impact on the peace of our world as Saudi Arabia. Think of the present oil crisis. What happened in essence was that the US began drilling domestically for oil, which angered the Saudis who thought they would lose a good customer and eventually their influence. Angry, they flooded the market with so much oil the world looked like a BP spill and the price of petrol plummeted. Only the Saudis – their GDP is 90% oil revenue – could release so much oil into the market that it would collapse the world price, arrest drilling in America and, just for fun, decimate the economies of Russia and Iran.
Again, one guy did this. To the world. That’s a lot of power for one man to have. (Or family. Or country.) Of the seven brothers who have been succeeding one another to power, only two remain. Once the last one goes, we’ll have a whole new generation of royals who will control most of the world’s oil and no one really knows how that is going to go.
Given how much the Saudis have influenced Pakistan’s polity (remember: it was the late King Abdullah who sheltered PM Sharif in palatial exile), it’s naïve to think that a Saudi succession won’t directly affect our own domestic situation. (I was going to say well being, but, you know...). We all need to take stock of the way Saudi Arabia influences our world. And we can start by talking about it.
Write to thekantawala@gmail.com and follow @fkantawala on twitter.com
This is not a surprise. It’s just a fact that no one messes with you if you own half the world’s oil reserves and also run the Muslim Holy cities. Literally no one. The weird thing about Saudi Arabia in public discourse is that it usually isn’t there. When talking about the war on terror, freedom of speech, religious tolerance, equality, religious extremism, the spread of militant Islam, Sunni/Shia divide et al, it’s like Saudi Arabia doesn’t exist. Iran does, mind you, as do Pakistan, Syria, Afghanistan, Somalia and Yemen. But never ever Saudi Arabia. It’s a duplicitous pact signed by the leaders of the so-called Free World. The communal blindness when it comes to Saudi Arabia proves that money does, to lean unfairly on the Cabaret song, indeed make the world go round. Observe: Less than a fortnight after the world leaders marched in Paris to show solidarity for Freedom of Speech, practically all of them were at the funeral of the head of state that – how does one put this? – does not place a particularly very high value on that commodity. I suppose they showed the same tolerance for Gaddafi and Assad. Actually, of course they did. Assad’s wife was in French Vogue the month the civil war began, talking about her favorite tea cups and fabrics. Not to suggest that the King is a despotic ruler who controls his people with vicious totalitarianism. For shame!
Most of my digital TV feed consists of Arab channels, a fact I discovered only when my regularly scheduled programing of Polish ads for bunion surgery and Lebanese soap operas was replaced with CCTV coverage of the King’s funeral. It was fascinating to see members of the House of Saud – all 100,000 of them – milling about on TV in front of cameras, the consternation apparent on their faces. Practically everyone looked very stressed out (while managing to also look glorious in their sweeping robes) and I don’t blame ‘em. The succession to the Saudi throne is absurdly vague. The royal family is notoriously secretive, lavishly wealthy. Like a papal election, the business of succession in Saudi Arabia is deeply complicated. This has less to do with centuries of precedent than it does with decades of denial. Power passes from brother to brother rather than father to son, leaving lots of room for murderous machinations and last-minute alliances. King Abdullah was widely rumored to have died a few days before the Kingdom announced it, giving the next man time to consolidate his position. I’m convinced that the true action isn’t taking place in front of the cameras, or in a room full of men, but rather in the in the quarters of the women, hidden powerhouses of intrigue that are constantly jostling to promote their sons and brothers and husbands to better positions. (At least that’s what The Tudors has taught me.)
I'm convinced the real drama of the Saudi succession is taking place in the women's quarters
The new monarch, King Salman, is 79 years old. He has a pleasant face, and if newsroom rumors are to be believed, he is suffering from creeping dementia, which is sad. This is a problem not only for Saudi Arabia but for everyone. I can’t think of another country in the world that has as much of an impact on the peace of our world as Saudi Arabia. Think of the present oil crisis. What happened in essence was that the US began drilling domestically for oil, which angered the Saudis who thought they would lose a good customer and eventually their influence. Angry, they flooded the market with so much oil the world looked like a BP spill and the price of petrol plummeted. Only the Saudis – their GDP is 90% oil revenue – could release so much oil into the market that it would collapse the world price, arrest drilling in America and, just for fun, decimate the economies of Russia and Iran.
Again, one guy did this. To the world. That’s a lot of power for one man to have. (Or family. Or country.) Of the seven brothers who have been succeeding one another to power, only two remain. Once the last one goes, we’ll have a whole new generation of royals who will control most of the world’s oil and no one really knows how that is going to go.
Given how much the Saudis have influenced Pakistan’s polity (remember: it was the late King Abdullah who sheltered PM Sharif in palatial exile), it’s naïve to think that a Saudi succession won’t directly affect our own domestic situation. (I was going to say well being, but, you know...). We all need to take stock of the way Saudi Arabia influences our world. And we can start by talking about it.
Write to thekantawala@gmail.com and follow @fkantawala on twitter.com