بكى صاحبي لما رأى الدرب دونه وأيقن أنا لاحقان بقيصرا
فقلت له لاتبك عينك إنما نحاول ملكا أو نموت فنعذرا

(امرؤ القيس)

My friend wept as he saw the way which lay ahead,
and realized at last that we were bound for Caesar.
I said, ‘Do not weep, for we are attempting to gain
a kingdom and none will blame us if we perish in
the attempt.’
(Imrou Al Qayse)

When the family of Saud fled from Riyadh in 1890 they took refuge first in Bahrian, where they were well received by the ruler of the island, Sheikh Isa. The Sheikh took an immediate liking to the young Prince Abdul Aziz and was to remain his lifelong friend and adviser. Although Sheikh Isa’s reception was warm and his hospitality generous, there was nothing he could do to assist the Sauds to regain their kingdom, and so after a while Abdul Rahman Ibn Saud decided to move on. The family and their followers went to Qatar, but this too proved useless as a power base. They then spent a time wandering with the Al Murrah tribe in the Rub‘ Al-Khali. Abdul Rahman had hopes that he might be able to rouse the tribesman there to open rebellion. In this aim he was thwarted, for the tough and hardy bedouin had enough work to do keeping themselves alive in the barren terrain without worrying about who was in power in distant Riyadh. Apart from some desultory raiding, Abdul Rahman achieved nothing which could seriously disturb the power of the house of Rashid. But the stay was not without profit. The Rub‘ Al-Khali is one of the cruellest deserts on earth. To survive in it, to navigate around it, and especially to fight in it, requires immense skill. The Al Murrah tribesmen had that skill, and they passed much of it on to the young Abdul Aziz. In the Rub‘ Al-khali, the Prince received an education in desert craft which was to stand him in good stead for the rest of his life.

Eventually the family found a permanent refuge in Kuwait, where they were the guests of Sheikh Mubarak Al Subah. (The Saud family and the rulers of both Kuwait and Bahrain were all originally from the same tribe, the Aneyza.) Abdul Rahman and his son were to spend nearly ten years in Kuwait and it was there that Prince Abdul Aziz grew to manhood. No doubt Sheikh Mubarak considered that to be the host of the prestigious, if temporarily humbled, family of Saud was a privilege which raised his standing considerably in Central Arabia. Certainly he was anxious to expand his own influence by helping Abdul Rahman and his son to fight Al Rashid, and for this reason readily provided them with men, camels and provisions for numerous raids into Najd. Abdul Rahman was also able to obtain some small financial assistance in the form of a pension from the Turkish authorities at Basra. This was somewhat ironic in view of the support which Al Rashid obtained from the Turks, but it is unlikely that the Turks were being either devious or stupid. It was simply their policy to offer support to any Arab prince who appeared to require it, and Arabian internal politics were such that they could hardly be expected to know at any one time who was raiding whom in the desert.

By the time Prince Abdul Aziz Ibn Saud had reached his twentieth year it was already plain that God had marked him out for great things. In sheer physical size he towered above his companions, being fully six feet two inches tall, a most unusual and impressive height for a desert Arab. Everything else about his appearance was on the grand scale, from his strong, jutting nose to his full lips and fine beard. He had a natural kingly bearing and was dignified and graceful in his movements; he was also an accomplished horseman and warrior. From an early age he had about him a charm and magnetism which those who experienced it found impossible to describe in mere words. In short, he was a born leader, and had already built for himself in Kuwait a substantial personal following.

Eventually in 1901 Sheikh Mubarak was persuaded to assist Abdul Rahman in a full-scale military expedition against Al Rashid. Mubarak was in a strong position because he had access to the Arabian Gulf, while Al Rashid was landlocked in Najd. Indeed, at the time, Mubarak may well have harboured ambitions of ruling part of the Arabian pen-insula.  He gathered a powerful army, containing various important bedouin chiefs such as Faisal Ad-Dawish, and sallied forth towards Al-Qasim. However, although the expedition was joined by a strong force from the Ajman and Mutair tribes, it proved a disaster. Sheikh Mubarak and Abdul Rahman were defeated by Abdul Aziz Al Rashid at the battle of Sarif, near Buraida, and were hotly pursued back to Kuwait. Sheikh Mubarak was only able to prevent an attack on Kuwait itself by persuading the British to send a gunboat to bombard Al Rashid’s camp, following which Al Rashid was forced to withdraw to his capital of Ha’il.

Prior to the ballet of Sarif, it had been agreed between Sheikh Mubarak and Price Abdul Aziz that the Price should march towards Riyadh while Mubarak and Abdul Rahman were moving against Al Rashid in Al- Qasim. This was partly a diversionary tactic and partly so that the Prince could test his chances of regaining Riyadh, the capital of his forbears. On their way south, the Prince’s forces attacked a group from the Qahtan tribe who were in the town of Row-dhat Sudair and killed their chief, Nazhan Ibn Muraih. Next the Saudis attacked another Qahtan group, this time led by Faisal Ibn Hashir Al-‘Asim. When the Prince finally reached Riyadh, he encountered no opposition and was able to enter the city with his men. Such was the resentment of the inhabitants of Riyadh at being ruled by the Rashids that they were anxious to receive any member of the Saud family. The Rashidi Amir, Abdul Rahman Ibn Dhubai’an, took refuge in the fortress with his men, where they were besieged by the Saudis. When Prince Abdul Aziz saw that the siege was likely to be protracted, he attempted to tunnel underneath the fortress. However, after three days, he received news of the defeat of his father and Sheikh Mubarak at Sarif. The Prince summoned all the prominent citizens of Riyadh and told them that he was going to gather more support from the surrounding tribes and would then return.  (In fact, this merely served as an excuse for him to leave the city, since his position had by now become untenable.) The Amir and his men were to remain bottled up in their garrison ‘like rabbits in their warren’, as the Prince put it. After leaving Riyadh, Prince Abdul Aziz moved south towards Yabrin, on the edge of the Empty Quarter, travelled from there to Qatar and then sailed with a few companions to Bahrain and finally back to Kuwait. By this time he had decided that he could no longer rely upon Sheikh Mubarak as a general; in future, he would have to devise his own strategy for regaining his kingdom. He resolved to make another expedition to Riyadh in the near future, this time without asking Sheikh Mubarak for his support.

The father of the man who told me of this episode was called Abdul Aziz Ibn Jassir Al Madhi. He was Amir of Rowdhat Sudair at the time. Al Mahdi and the townspeople had prevented the Rashidi garrison from firing on Ibn Saud when his force attacked. The Amir had told the garrison that, if they wanted to fight Ibn Saud, they would have to do so away from the town. Subsequently, Al Rashid sent Suleiman Al Quraishi to punish the Amir and people of Rowdhat Sudair for their disloyalty. Al Rashid also showed his displeasure with Ibn Dhubai’an, the Amir of Riyadh. He was discharged and replaced by a man named Ajlan.

By the time that Prince Abdul Aziz had withdrawn to join his father in Kuwait, it was clear that the fortunes of the family of Saud had reached their lowest ebb. Sheikh Mubarak was not disposed to attempt any further military adventures and, while Abdul Aziz and his father were still welcome in Kuwait, it became apparent that their fund of goodwill was gradually vanishing. In later years King Abdul Aziz said that throughout his stay he had always felt he was imposing on the Kuwaitis, and after the battle of Sarif this impression grew stronger. In Kuwait, as elsewhere in Arabia, it was the custom for men of different families to visit one another in the evenings in their respective majlis (an area in each house set aside for that purpose). The Prince had become accustomed to being given the place of honour in the majlis of each of his numerous friends, but after the battle of Sarif he noticed that this occurred far less frequently. It was clear to Abdul Aziz that his prestige was waning rapidly, and he realized that this must be happening not only in Kuwait; it must also have been diminishing fast in Najd itself. In order to achieve any victory against Al Rashid, the Sauds had to be able to raise support from the tribes inside the areas controlled by him. Abdul Aziz could not rely upon being able to achieve this for very much longer. He knew that the best, and indeed the only, way to regain his prestige would be a sudden, bold stroke inside Al Rashid’s territory which would excite the admiration of the tribesmen and enable him to win the following he needed. Although the idea seemed suicidal, he decided to attempt the capture of Riyadh.

The choice of Riyadh was important, for the town had always been the centre of Saudi power and Abdul Rahman still had much support in the area. To Al Rashid the town was of no special importance. It was administered, like his other towns, by a governor- in this case, Ajlan-with the support of a small garrison. To be fair to Ajlan and Al Rashid himself, it could not really be said that the citizens of Riyadh had been governed in a particularly oppressive or tyrannical manner in the years since the family of Rashid had taken the town. Nevertheless, there were many influential chiefs and tribesmen in the district who resented being ruled by a Rashid and would have been only too happy to see the family of Saud resume their rightful place in Najd.

In 1901 Riyadh must have looked much the same as it did when I joined His Majesty in 1926. It was encircled by an outer mud wall, about twenty feet high, in which were set mighty gates at the north, south, east and west. The city was small, probably not more than a few hundred yards across even at its widest point. Inside it was a maze of twisting streets, some so narrow that it was difficult for two men to walk abreast down them. The only open space was the central market, dominated on one side by a large mosque and on the other by the palace which Al Rashid had usurped. Nearby was a tiny market-place, reserved for the womenfolk. All the buildings in the town were of the same adobe construction as the walls. About half had an upper floor but the rest were all single-storey dwellings. Their walls were completely blank on the outside except for an occasional tiny, protruding window.

Before 1890 the city had been surrounded by elegant palm-groves, but when Mohammed Ibn Rashid laid siege to it he wilfully destroyed most of the trees – an unnecessary and unchivalrous act which had earned him the lasting hatred of the inhabitants. In the course of overrunning the defences, Ibn Rashid had also caused severe damage to the outer walls. Neither he nor his nephew had ever thought it worth repairing them properly, and in many places they were seriously dilapidated. Nevertheless, the town remained a formidable nut to crack. At each gate there was a tower in which were stationed two or three men. Although the walls remained unguarded, they could be speedily manned if necessary. Inside the town was a strong central fort which contained a garrison of fifty or sixty men. As a result of his operations against Riyadh a year before, Abdul Aziz had already decided that he did not have the power to take the town by open force. Instead he planned to capture it by stealth.

The Prince again approached Sheikh Mubarak for his assistance, and particularly for the camels he required. It is probable that he told the Sheikh he was planning a raid, but did not disclose the true nature of the expedition in case Sheikh Mubarak should think it too far-fetched to have any possibility of success. The sheikh grudgingly let the Prince have the camels he wanted, but not surprisingly he did not feel disposed to hand over his best animals. Abdul Aziz was provided with forty old sickly beasts which were the dregs of Sheikh Mubarak’s herd. The Prince picked a small number of his most faithful followers to accompany him and at the end of 1901, still aged only twenty-one, he was ready to set out on his great adventure. The men who accompanied the Prince are so important to our history that I have set out their names in an appendix to this book. (see Appendix 5.)

It took the raiders about ten days to reach Riyadh. They travelled by night, and rested and hid during the day among the rocks and sand-dunes of the desert. When they reached the outskirts of Riyadh in January 1902, they bivouacked amongst the shrubs until nightfall. Until now, with the invaluable habit of secrecy which was to remain with him throughout his life, the Prince had told nobody about his true intentions. Now, at the dead of night, he addressed the men who had completed the journey with him. ‘My good and faithful friends,’ he said, ‘I intend to enter and take the town tonight and all who wish to accompany me are welcome. Those who are reluctant to follow may stay and if, by the break of dawn, you have not received word from me, you must flee for your lives. Should we be successful, you are welcome to join us.’

In accordance with the Prince’s carefully laid plan, a handful of men were selected to enter the town with him, one of them being his cousin Abdullah Ibn Jelawi. The Prince led this tiny force to a part of the wall which he knew would suit his purpose, and by using grappling-irons and ropes the small party climbed into the town undetected. Many of the houses in Riyadh were built against the town wall in such a way that the wall itself formed the back of the house. When the Prince and his followers climbed over the wall, they landed on the terrace of a house which Abdul Aziz knew to belong to a man who had been a servant in the palace when the Prince’s father had ruled there. The man’s wife had actually nursed the Prince when he was a baby. From the terrace the Prince and his men climbed down into the courtyard, where they found the woman tending her goats. The sight of ten burly men descending from her roof naturally alarmed her and she cried out fearfully, ‘Who’s there?’ ‘Hush,’ said the Prince. ‘It is none other than Abdul Aziz!’ When the woman realized that this was indeed true, she wept tears of joy and welcomed him warmly. ‘No more polite words,’ said the Prince. ‘Tell me all that you know about Ajlan, the Amir of Riyadh.’ This information took a little time to extract, since the woman had now recovered from her shock and was anxious to share the milk from her goats with her unexpected guests. However, Abdul Aziz insisted that she answer him first. She told him that at night Ajlan was in the habit of sleeping for safety in the fortress, which was of course locked and heavily guarded. Every day after morning prayer, he would leave the fort by the main gate and enter a house directly opposite which was owned by him and occupied by one of his wives. (She was a member of the Al Hamad family from Riyadh, and it was rumoured that she and the Prince had had the same wet-nurse. In Arab society, two children suckled by the same woman are considered as brother and sister, and cannot marry each other.) This was obviously the moment when Ajlan was most vulnerable and the Prince decided immediately that it was then he must strike.

Abdul Aziz and his men crept unobserved along the silent streets and entered an empty house near the one occupied by Ajlan’s wife. Climbing up to the roof, they then jumped from terrace to terrace along the line of houses until they reached the one belonging to Ajlan. Stealthily they entered his unsuspecting wife’s room. One of them stumbled and the noise woke the woman. Before she could say a word, the Prince put his hand over her mouth and whispered to her to be silent; he told her that her life would be spared provided she made no noise. The Prince and his men then helped themselves to Ajlan’s coffee while the waited for daybreak and the emergence of their enemy from the fortress. The main gate of the fort was of traditional construction. It was sizeable enough to admit large bodies of men and camels, and had a small postern door which was always guarded; this door was designed that a man could only go through it head first, thus enabling the guard to deal with him without difficulty should his appearance be unwelcome. It was only a few yards from this gate to the door of Ajlan’s house.

At dawn after prayers, Ajlan emerged as expected through the postern door into the roadway outside. Abdul Aziz watched his progress through the slits in the door of the house. As usual, there were horses tied up outside the fort and Ajlan, who was a great lover of horses, stopped to admire and pet them. Abdul Aziz had planned to deal with Ajlan after he had entered the house, but the sight of his enemy only few feet away was too much for the Prince to bear; with a violent war-cry he threw open door and burst out upon the unsuspecting Amir. Although taken completely by surprise, Ajlan managed to defend himself for long enough to retreat to the gate and attempt to fling himself through the postern door. Abdul Aziz caught him by the leg and tried to pull him back, but Ajlan was able to kick himself free and scrambled into the interior of the fortress and on into the mosque he was cut down by the sword of the Prince’s cousin, Abdullah Ibn Jelawi.

The garrison of the fortress was taken completely off its guard. Most of the men were stationed on the first floor of the fort and had no time to come to Ajlan’s aid. They were a motley group, consisting of members of the Shammar tribe and some servants and bodyguards. The shock of the assault and the death of their leader completely demoralized them, and the daring of the Prince’s attack deceived them into thinking that he had invaded the town with a huge force. Before they had time to react, Abdul Aziz himself bravely walked into the centre of the courtyard and announced himself to them. He shouted to them that resistance was pointless now that Ajlan was dead and he promised to spare their lives if they surrendered. The garrison laid down their arms immediately and were locked in their own dungeons. Only about ten men were killed on the Rashidi side; there was no loss of life among the Saudis.

In the moment of victory one of the Prince’s men went to the highest tower of the fortress and proclaimed to the waking city, ‘There is none but Prince Abdul Aziz Ibn Saud. All is peace and safety!’ After twelve years of exile the Prince had now recovered his capital from Rashid. It remained for him to win his kingdom.