فإنما الأمم الأخلاق ما بقيت فإن هم ذهبت أخلاقهم ذهبوا
(أحمد شوقي)
Nations are their ethics. They endure only as long as their ethics do.
(Ahmad Shauqi)

The towering achievements of His Majesty King Abdul Aziz Ibn Saud were those of a truly remarkable man. To have united almost the entire Arabian peninsula in a permanent and harmonious union was an accomplishment which would have been beyond even the dreams of any ordinary monarch. It was the Arabs’ good fortune that God in his wisdom sent such a man to us, at a time when he was most needed to unify Arabia and prepare it for the dominant role it now plays in word affairs – a role which no amount of oil could have enable it to play, had its territory remained fragmented and its people divided. In this chapter I hope to give an analysis of what it was that made Ibn Saud so uniquely successful, both as a monarch and as a man.
In 1935 Colonel T. E. Lawrence wrote his famous book about his experiences in Arabia entitled Seven Pillars of Wisdom. The title of the book seems to me a most apt way of describing the character of the King, which in my view was based on seven pillars upon which he raised his kingdom from nothing. The first pillar was that of religion. From the earliest days of his life until its very end he remained a staunch and devout Moslem, following scrupulously the dictates of the Koran in its every detail. His education in exile in Kuwait was necessarily limited, but this did not prevent him from mastering the Koran and other religious works to a degree which often astounded the ulemas of his own country. One of the injunctions of the Koran is that the faithful should read it as often as possible, and His Majesty always managed to set aside half an hour a day in his crowded schedule to read the Koran and other religious works, particularly those which listed all the many hundreds of names by which God is known. His Majesty seldom had a conversation without quoting a verse from the Koran, upon which he drew as a bottomless source of wisdom and inspiration. He was adept at interpreting and explaining the verses in a manner which kept his audience spellbound and enthralled with his insight.
Religion gave a purpose to the King’s life in that the more he expanded and consolidated his kingdom, the greater was his service to Islam, which was thus strengthened by his actions. His religious conviction gave him strength in many different ways, yet, however powerful he grew, there was never any danger of his becoming complacent or conceited. The Wahhabi Moslems did not believe in glorifying individuals, and the King knew that as a man he was merely doing his best; everything he achieved was through the will God alone.
Religion gave Ibn Saud a rigid routine and order to his life which was essential for success in his harsh desert land. Islam requires its adherents to pray facing Mecca five times every day at specified hours, wherever they may be. To do this day in and day out for a lifetime imposes a discipline and dedication to the faith which makes a disciplined and dedicated approach to one’s other duties all the easier. The King’s daily routine, which has already been described in some detail, began at 4.30 a.m. before the morning prayer. The activities of the day revolved around the other prayer times, culminating in the evening prayer before His Majesty went to his bed. In fact, the King made it a rule never to sleep more than six hours out of every twenty-four, and his sleep was taken in three short periods. He slept for only four hours after midnight, for another hour after morning prayer, and again for about forty-five minutes after lunch. This discipline coupled with his natural physical strength enabled His Majesty to maintain a punishing schedule, both in the Court and in the desert, which would have been beyond men who lacked his faith. His obvious devotion to Islam also inspired his followers and enabled us (though not always without considerable effort) to keep up with the amazing pace which he set.
Even when travelling in the desert, life with the King was extremely ordered. His Majesty would set off exactly one and half hours after sunrise, with stops during the day based around the times for prayer, and we would continue travelling until just before sunset. Similarly, there was an established routine in the way we travelled each year to and from the Holy Land. Perhaps the greatest personal satisfaction which the King gained from the conquest of Hejaz was that it enabled him every year to perform that hajj, whose ritual was itself established by the Prophet.
For non-Moslems, it is worth recording briefly the ritual of the hajj. On the eighth day of the hajj month, the pilgrims leave Mecca for Mona. The following day is spent at Arafat, and at sunset the pilgrims move to Muzdalifa, where they spend the night. Having collected handfuls of pebbles from here, they move at dawn to Mona and immediately afterwards proceed to Mecca for the seven ritual circumambulations of the Kaaba. The pilgrim robes are then discarded for festive robes and finally the pilgrims return again to Mona for the ritual stoning of the devils which takes place over the next three days. On the evening of the sixth day, the King used to hold a great feast for all the leaders of the Islamic world who were attending the pilgrimage. Before the banquet, His Majesty would deliver the hajj speech, which was always full of good advice and sound religious instruction. The meeting, which also served as an international Moslem conference, was open to all pilgrims of importance, and large crowds would always come to hear the King’s words. After the speech, the meeting was open for any leader to air his views on current events. The tradition continues to this day, under King Khalid.
The capture of the Holy Land by the King was the greatest possible good fortune for Islam as a whole, although this was not immediately appreciated by all Arab countries. Shortly after the conquest of Hejaz, the leaders of the principal Arab and Moslem states called a conference to decide the fate of the Holy Cities. While His Majesty doubted the value of this enterprise, he nevertheless generously accommodated the conference at his own expense. After a period of discussion, certain Islamic leaders put forward a proposal that the Holy Land should be recognized as a common country for all Moslems of the world. They suggested that it should be an Islamic Republic, governed democratically by representatives of all the Moslem states. The King had grave doubts about the practicality of this arrangement and his terse reply to the suggestion was, ‘Almost all of you are leaders from countries subject to colonial powers. You should free your own countries from foreign domination before you presume to tell me who should rule the Holy Land.’ As ever, His Majesty’s shaft struck home and the foreign leaders were humbled and speechless. They went away satisfied that the Holy Places were in strong, capable hands which would defend and protect them.
The new confidence of the Moslem leaders in Ibn Saud was more than justified. From the time the King took over Hejaz, he took pains to ensure that the funds donated by the pilgrims for the upkeep of the Holy Places were diligently and honestly administered – which had not always been the case under Hashemite rule. He also took steps to ensure that pilgrims were not swindled by unscrupulous guides at the Holy Places. One of the King’s advisers, Hafiz Wahba, was given the task of creating both a system of licensing the guides and a scale of fixed charges by which they should be paid. Unfortunately, the funds which His Majesty was able to set aside for the upkeep of the Holy Places were not always sufficient. In 1949 the Great Mosque of Mecca was showing signs of disrepair and a group of Egyptian Moslems raised £30,000 to put towards its renovation. They came to see His Majesty and asked him for a personal contribution. By that time the King was just beginning to receive substantial oil revenues. He was able to tell the Egyptians that he would personally ensure the restoration of the mosque to its full glory, and that their money could be donated to their own poor. From that time onwards, the Saudi government has assumed full responsibility for the care of all Holy Places, and donations from the faithful are made available for other worthy causes. Over the years, the government has spent countless billions of riyals upon the repair, upkeep and maintenance of the Holy Places.
Such was His Majesty’s mastery of religious knowledge and his extreme devotion to Islam that many compare him to the first four Caliphs who succeeded the Prophet Mohammed as leaders of the Moslem faith. These Caliphs are considered to be the wisest men in the history of Islam and were particularly renowned for their interpretation of Holy Writings. It has been said with truth that the King was as great as these Caliphs, for one could only marvel at his ability to make penetrating analyses of the Koran; he could explain and interpret that great book in a manner which was most profound, and yet readily comprehensible to the simplest bedouin. For my part, I believe that His Majesty did more for the faith than any other man this century. The second of His Majesty’s pillars was that of his generosity and mercy. His benevolence was natural and unselfconscious, and he would give unstintingly even when his own cupboards were empty, much to the despair of his Finance Minister, Suleiman, who had to balance the books afterwards. Indeed, I once heard the King say jokingly that he often felt like a jazur, or slaughtered camel, because anybody with a deft hand could cut from him as much as he wished.
It is true that his open-handedness could often be a matter of calculated policy, in particular in his dealings with the bedouin, but he also derived a simple joy from giving, which had nothing to do with politics. A story is told that one day the King was travelling in his car with his retinue when several of the vehicles in his convoy became stuck in the sand. As was his custom, he refused to go any further himself until he was quite sure that the cars of all his followers had been dug out. While this was being done, he left his car and sat under the shade of a tree. All of a sudden, a bedouin appeared from nowhere. He did not recognize the King, who was wearing a simple robe and head-cloth. The tribesman sat down beside His Majesty and asked where the Sheikh might be. Ibn Saud replied with a smile that the Sheikh must be somewhere amongst the people he saw. Patiently, the bedouin waited for an opportunity to see the King. When the cars had all been dug out His Majesty prepared to leave and, taking a handful of riyals, gave them spontaneously to the bedouin. At this, the tribesman immediately put out his hand and said, ‘I salute you, O Abdul Aziz.’ The King asked him, ‘How do you know I am Abdul Aziz?’, to which the bedouin replied, ‘Nobody gives as generously as you.’
However parlous the royal finances might be, His Majesty made it a point never to let a foreign visitor leave the Court without a sumptuous gift. A supply of pearls and other jewellery, and the most beautiful swords and daggers inlaid with precious stones, was kept in the palace for presentation to distinguished guests. It was not uncommon either for the King to give away cars and fine Arabian horses. In 1928 General Clayton was visiting the King in Jeddah. He became ill and had to leave hastily. It was customary for the King to give a farewell party when a guest departed and also customary that, if the guest was in a hurry, he would be given the provisions uncooked so that he could eat them later. When offered the usual party, Clayton politely declined and asked to be excused, saying that he did not feel like eating anything. Thereupon, he was told of the custom that guests in a hurry were given the feast uncooked, and the General accepted this. The King immediately made arrangements for the Royal Navy sloop which had brought General Clayton to be given sufficient provisions to feed the entire crew throughout the whole journey back to England.
On another occasion, shortly after the battle of Sibillah, a deputation of the Sheikhs of Kuwait arrived in Riyadh, headed by Sheikh Ahmed Al-Jaber Al Subah. They had come on a courtesy visit to the King, to congratulate him on finally subduing the Ikhwan. I remember that the members of the Court waited with bated breath to see how His Majesty would deal with this delicate situation, for the treasury was exhausted after the long campaign. Our surprise knew no bounds when we saw the Sheikhs leaving, armed with the most generous gifts. His Majesty had somehow managed to provide them all with cars, gold and silver swords, slaves and sums of money.
Perhaps the most outstanding example of His Majesty’s boundless liberality occurred in 1952. In that year, he ordered the construction of a complete palace in Hejaz for King Farouq of Egypt, who was planning a state visit to Arabia. The palace was called Qasr Az-Zafran, and was an exact replica of one of Farouq’s palaces in Egypt of the same name. It was built in a very secluded place outside Mecca. At the time, the Egyptian uprising was at its height and it had perhaps been agreed between both monarchs that it might be unsafe for Farouq to be accommodated in a busy city. In fact the palace was never used, for Farouq was deposed by Nasser before the visit took place; even if Farouq had come, he would have occupied the building for only a few days.
To his own family Ibn Saud was endlessly bountiful. There are numerous stories told about this, but perhaps one of the most notable took place towards the end of the King’s life, when money from oil was beginning to flow in quantity. A favourrite wife asked him if she could have a villa of her own in the garden of his palace. His Majesty at once agreed and gave instructions to his contractor, Ibn Laden, to build a villa. When it was finished, the wife went to inspect it and decided that it was not to her liking. The King immediately ordered Ibn Laden to tear it down and build another in its place. On another occasion, the same wife asked for a gift of a sum equivalent to £100,000. His Majesty calmly enquired why she should request so little and gave her £500,000.
The King’s natural generosity was allied to a natural compassion and mercy. In contrast to the long-established custom of cutting off the heads of one’s opponents at the earliest opportunity, Ibn Saud displayed the utmost clemency towards defeated enemies. Once a foe was overcome, the King greatly preferred a policy of merciful rehabilitation to one of vengeful retribution. The numerous reprieves given to Ad-Dawish are an excellent example. The King’s forbearance could extend even to those who plotted personal violence against him. Once in about 1930, when he was staying in Ta’if, news reached him that a group of youths from a nearby football club were planning to  assassinate him in the local mosque. The youths were arrested, but instead of ordering their execution, His Majesty merely imprisoned them. They were released only six months later, after a deputation from Jeddah had petitioned on their behalf.
The King’s compassion for the vanquished extended not only to those whom he had defeated personally. One example was that of King Amanullah of Afghanistan. When King Amanullah ascended the throne, many heads of state invited him to visit their countries. Ibn Saud’s envoy in Bombay, Sheikh Abdul Rahman Al-Gossaibi, wrote to Ibn Saud suggesting that he should invite Amanullah to visit Mecca while he was on his tour of other states. The King replied that he would not invite him but that Amanullah, as a fellow Moslem, was welcome to visit Mecca. Amanullah was later overthrown by a coup led by Bacha Sag’a, and went into exile in Italy. Although Amanullah was a devout Moslem, after a year or so rumours began to spread that he had become a Roman Catholic. In order to disprove this suggestion and clear his name, he took the earliest opportunity of performing the hajj. Although Ibn Saud had nothing whatever to gain by helping Amanullah, he felt sympathy for a fellow Moslem down on his luck and, while at Mecca, went to greet him personally. I was translating for His Majesty at the time and I can remember him greeting Amanullah with the words, I am glad to see you in Mecca.’ Having given Amanullah a royal reception, Ibn Saud then personally accommodated him as a guest and instructed his servants to give him all the services befitting a monarch. His Majesty’s attention helped to vindicate Amanullah, and he left full of gratitude for the King’s kindness.
Another incident concerns the Sheikhs of Kuwait once again. It occurred in 1920, shortly after Faisal Ad-Dawish had attacked Al-Jahara, a small village just outside Kuwait. Many lives were lost during the assault, and there were few families in Kuwait who did not suffer in one way or another. To this day, there are blood stains on the city walls of Al-Jahara. The King had not ordered the attack, however; Ad-Dawish had acted entirely on his own initiative. After the battle, the Sheikhs of Kuwait came in a deputation to His Majesty, assuring him that they realized he had been in no way involved, and protesting their friendship. After the preliminary courtesies, Sheikh Salim Al Subah, who was leading the deputation, told the King that the boundaries of Saudi Arabia extended up to the city walls of Kuwait. His Majesty immediately replied that the borders of Kuwait ran up to the city walls of Riyadh!
Ibn Saud’s third pillar was his power of discretion and secrecy. The Prophet once said, ‘Take advantage of secrecy to gain your ends and say nothing of your objectives until you achieve them.’ His Majesty followed this wise advice to the letter and even those nearest to him, including his own family and closest advisers, would often not know his plans. Because of this, no amount of careless talk would ever reveal those plans to his enemies. I have no doubt that His Majesty’s camp was often full of spies, anxious to glean any information they could about the King’s intentions. This they failed to do, although His Majesty was able to make full use of information gained by spies of his own from men less able to keep silent. In a country where any rumour travelled like wildfire, His Majesty’s reticence was a most powerful weapon against his opponents.
Courage was His Majesty’s fourth pillar. There has been no shortage of valiant men in the history of Arabia, but none could have been more valiant than King Abdul Aziz Ibn Saud. He often needed all his courage, for no man could have begun to undertake the task he had set himself, were he not a warrior of unflinching valour. There are countless stories about his bravery. Many tell of his steadfast courage in bearing wounds suffered in battle. Once he bore a serious stomach-wound throughout an arduous campaign for some six months before receiving proper medical attention. The King’s surgeon, Rashad Faraon, told me of another occasion when two spent machine-gun bullets had entered His Majesty’s abdomen and were lodged just beneath the surface of the skin. Faraon was starting to prepare an anaesthetic when the King asked him what he was doing. When Faraon explained, His Majesty burst out laughing and told him to throw the anaesthetic away. Then, taking a scalpel in his own hand, he cut away the flesh above the bullets and told Faraon to get on with his job.

الرأْيُ قَبْلَ شَجَاعَةِ الشُجْعَانِ هُوَ أولاً وهيَ المحلٌّ الثاني
(المتنبي)
Thought ranks above physical courage
(Al-Mouttanabi)

Although Ibn Saud was renowned for his act of daring and audacity, his courage was not just that reckless fearlessness which overcomes a man in the heat of battle like a madness and makes him blind to all hazards. He also possessed the calm fortitude of one who sees clearly the danger to himself of a course of action, but takes it all the same because he knows it to be right. He never once bragged about his heroism, nor indeed do I believe that he even thought of himself as a hero. He once said to me, ‘What God has given to me has not been given because of my strength, but because of my weakness and his strength,’ I remember Yusuf Yassin reporting a conversation he had with the King, when His Majesty said that he felt himself to be a weak person at heart, but that this very feeling spurred him on to feats of gallantry and adventure. He felt that he was really no braver than other men, but God had given him a special gift: in emergencies, his reactions became so fast and keen that he could act more swiftly and decisively than others. He also thought he had been blessed with outstanding luck – the best illustration of which was his own scarred body, where each of a score of wounds told a story of death missed by the merest inches. There was an occasion when Saud Al-Urafa, a cousin of the King (and a man who always considered himself to have a greater claim to the Saudi throne than Ibn Saud himself), declared in a moment of angry bravado that he was much more courageous than the King. Ibn Saud came to hear of this and, far from being annoyed, smiled broadly and remarked, ‘Saud is quite right. He is indeed braver than I, but I am luckier than he!’ He also once said, ‘If God sends my children the same luck as he has sent me, they will be able to rule the whole Arab world.’
I believe the King’s fifth pillar to have been his exceptional powers of perseverance. Once he had set himself a goal he strived tirelessly to achieve it, and no amount of setbacks or reverses could deflect him from his ultimate objective. Those near to him could feel this tenacity of purpose almost as a psychic power, which overwhelmed men of lesser will who dared oppose him. One aspect of this characteristic which affected all of us at the Court was his unflagging appetite for the latest news from all corners of the kingdom, for he knew that in order to be the most powerful man in the country it was necessary first to be the best informed.
His Majesty could, if he wished, apply his indefatigable resolution not only to great affairs of state but also to the most trivial problems of his subjects. Once an old man came to see the King at Mecca in his general majlis and handed him a petition concerning some property. His Majesty passed the petition to his son Faisal, who was asked to deal with it. The following year, when the King was again in Mecca, the old man stood outside the Court near His Majesty’s chamber and started shouting that nothing had been done about his petition. Ibn Saud immediately ordered that the man be admitted to the palace and, after speaking privately to him, promised that the matter would be cleared up within two days. Faisal was immediately sent for; he explained that he had entrusted the petition to two of his officials. No trace of it could be found, so upon the King’s order the entire government office concerned was turned upside down and ransacked until the petition was eventually discovered in an attic. The two officials who had neglected it were instantly dismissed, and the old man at last received satisfaction. This had a salutary effect on all the government staff, who realized that no dereliction of duty, however slight, could be certain of escaping the attention of the King himself.
The King’s sixth pillar was that of honesty and justice. In his dealings with everybody from simple bedouin to foreign monarchs, His Majesty’s policy was always one of utter integrity and straightforward candour. This could be disconcerting for foreign guests used to hypocritical ‘glad-handing’ from those they visited. When the great American president Franklin D. Roosevelt was visited by Ibn Saud in Egypt in 1945, Roosevelt’s reception could hardly have been what he expected. Roosevelt thrust out his hand in greeting but His Majesty refused to take it, saying, ‘How can I shake hands with you when you are assisting the Zionists against us?’ Roosevelt was greatly taken aback, but he managed to carry on a conversation with the King during which he promised never to do anything which would prejudice Arab interests.
One thing which I noted particularly about His Majesty was that, however great the provocation, he would never contribute to malicious rumour or gossip. He might become totally cold towards somebody who had incurred his displeasure, and would have no hesitation in condemning him in the strongest terms to his face. But I never knew him to denigrate a man behind his back. An illustration of this was the case of the Al-Mandil family in Iraq, who had been His Majesty’s agents there and had become rich and influential under his patronage. After they had acquired wealth and position from their association with the King, they turned their back on Najd and elected to become Iraqi citizens. His Majesty was most hurt by their action and in future became very frosty if their name was mentioned but, despite the fact that there were many stories about their activities in Iraq, he was never heard to speak a word against them.
Being a religious, upright and honourable man himself, His Majesty took a serious view of crime and lawlessness.
The Koran supplied Ibn Saud with a ready-made system of law, which he imposed upon all his people with scrupulous impartiality. One of his mottoes was that no government could last without justice. He made no attempt to exempt himself from the rule of law, and if any subject had a claim against the Crown, the King himself would appoint an agent to represent that subject in the Sharia’h court and would make sure that the court was entirely impartial. Needless to say, he invariably abided by the court’s decisions.
When His Majesty annexed Hejaz he found that he had inherited a serious crime problem. During the last years of Hashemite rule, villainy of all kinds had flourished, and in the principal towns of the province there were isolated cases of theft, adultery, homosexuality, rape and murder. Outside the towns, some of the more unscrupulous bedouin were making a rich living by highway robbery, particularly of unprotected pilgrims. The King refused to tolerate such conduct in the Holy Land of Islam, and he took note of the saying of the Prophet that harsh punishments are often necessary for the protection of the innocent. In Mecca, examples were made of criminals who had been guilty of premeditated acts of serious theft; their right hands were cut off in strict accordance with Sharia’h law. A notorious bedouin highwayman who had robbed and murdered many pilgrims was caught by the King’s Amir in Medina, Mishari Ibn Jelawi. He was handcuffed and his legs were tied together, and he was then thrown into a thorn-tree and left to die in the sun. His remains were deposited on the side of the road as a warning to others. A particularly horrible crime was committed in Mecca when a group of five or six young men kidnapped a teenage boy for homosexual purposes. They held him for several days, then killed him and buried his body in a cellar. All were apprehended, and later executed in the main square of Mecca in front of Government House.
As well as the drastic measures taken against hardened criminals, lesser offenders were also dealt with firmly. Prostitution, for example, was stamped out by gathering up and deporting all known prostitutes. The harsh steps taken by the King to suppress crime were, I believe, in way inconsistent with his usual clemency. Mercy must never be seen as weakness, and it was essential for the protection of the King’s subjects that forceful remedies should be adopted to counter the problems of lawlessness. It should also be remembered that it took only a few stern examples to deter potential criminals and impress upon the citizens of Hejaz that the law was there to be kept. The suppression of crime in Saudi Arabia is very much a success story. It is significant that, although there are large numbers of foreigners living and working in our country, the strict and just nature of our laws is such that they very rarely find criminal acts committed against them, or for that matter cause any trouble themselves. I am aware that researchers have been sent to Saudi Arabia by Europrean countries to find out how it is that the government manages to keep such good order. For myself, I attribute this phenomenon simply to the religion of Islam, the absence of alcoholism and the wise policies laid down by Abdul Aziz Ibn Saud himself.
The King’s seventh and final pillar I would describe under the general heading of ‘mind-power’. The saying ‘Time given to thought is the greatest time-saver of all’ neatly sums up His Majesty’s attitude. His Majesty was gifted with powers of memory, perception, observation and wit which were utterly out of the ordinary. Additionally, there was about him an almost psychic aura of nobility and wisdom which, coupled with his sheer physical height (he was over six feet two inches tall) and his manly bearing, had an amazingly sobering effect on even the most foolish braggart who came into his presence. There was a grandeur and a magnetism about him which captivated everyone he met, and made him a natural and effortless leader of men. The strength of his will was like a physical force, shaping and bending the minds of lesser men so that they obeyed him eagerly and without question. There were instances too numerous to court when I saw proud chiefs come to his majlis in a mood of open hostility; I watched them first being overawed by the King’s personality, then won over by his smile and radiant charm.
His Majesty’s memory was more impressive than that of any man I have known. He carried in his head sufficient information to fill a library, and had a talent for instant recall which would put a computer to shame. He was, for example, familiar with all the tribes and tribal sections in his kingdom and their history and traditions. Within a few seconds of starting a conversation with a bedouin, the King could tell by the tribesman’s manner of speech precisely where he came from and to which section of what tribe he belonged.
The King was a superb conversationalist and debater, and most eloquent in all his speeches. His self-control was such that I cannot remember him ever him ever speaking a word out of place or a word too many, and I never knew him to say anything which he might later regret or wish to withdraw. His ordinary speech was full of cunning metaphors, proverbs and wise sayings which were always to the point, and were such a delight to listen to that one wished he would never stop. He could always find exactly the right remark or proverb to cover any situation. To give just one example, I remember once in Hejaz hearing the King talking to one of Sherif Hussein’s former ministers, Abdul Wahhab Naif Al-Haram. On shaking His Majesty’s hands, Al-Haram imprudently commented on their softness and expressed surprise that they were the hands of a warrior. Far from being annoyed or embarrassed, the King merely smiled and quoted an old proverb: ‘A viper is soft to the touch, but if it turns upon you its fangs are deadly.’
The King’s charisma affected not only his subjects; as he became more widely known outside his kingdom and stories about him began to circulate in the Islamic world and in the foreign press, we started to receive some quite peculiar ‘fan mail’ in the Court. A constant stream of letters arrived, frequently accompanied by photographs of beautiful girls in Europe and America, asking for  jobs as maids or governesses in the palace. One letter from Australia enclosed a photograph of an extremely well-dressed and attractive girl who begged for a post, however menial, in His Majesty’s household. The King passed the picture to the bedouin chief of the Qahtan tribe, Faisal Ibn Hashar, and asked what he thought. Faisal replied (probably with more truth than he realized), ‘Your Majesty, she has obviously fallen in love with you!’ If that was the effect which Ibn Saud had on an unknown girl on the other side of the world, imagine his influence on those of us who lived and worked in his presence every day!
His Majesty rarely left the Arabian peninsula. He only made three trips abroad during his lifetime: once to Basra in 1916, at the invitation of the British when they had landed there; secondly, to Kuwait and Bahrain on his return to Arabia after the meeting with King Faisal of Iraq in the Arabian Gulf in 1930; and finally, to Egypt in 1945, to meet President Roosevelt, Winston Churchill and King Farouq. He had friendly diplomatic relations with all the neighbouring Arab leaders except the Hashemite dynasty, represented by Prince, later King, Abdullah of Jordan and King Faisal of Iraq. (It was understandable that relations were strained between the Saudis and the Hashemites, since Ibn Saud had conquered their territory, Hejaz.) the King also enjoyed friendly relations with many other foreign powers. Since most of the neighbouring Asiatic and African states were under colonial rule, the King’s diplomatic relations in these areas were, of course, restricted to England, France, Holland and Italy.
No account of Ibn Saud’s life would be complete without some mention of His Majesty’s sympathy towards the nationalist aspiration of those Arab states under colonial domination, and his particular concern for the people of Palestine. The story of Palestine really merits a chapter all of its own. It has been inextricably linked with the history of the Arab world in general for the greater part of this century, and in particular since the Balfour Declaration of 2 November 1917, which pledged British support for a ‘national home’ for the Jews in Palestine. However, the ‘Palestine problem’, as it is still called to this day, has been discussed and written about at length elsewhere. I shall restrict myself here to Ibn Saud’s role in the matter, since his longstanding involvement and untiring concern is perhaps not widely recognized.
From the very beginning of his reign, the King was in the habit of giving help and advice to prominent Arab nationalists in their fight for independence from the colonial Mandatory powers. Hajj Amin Al-Husseini and Shakeeb Arslan, the editor of a magazine published in Switzerland and entitled The Arab, were only two of the many prominent political figures in the Arab world to whom Ibn Saud gave his support and assistance. Many of these men received financial help in the form of regular payments which were made through the Saudi Consulates in such countries as Egypt, Syria, Lebanon and Iraq.
As the leading Arab head of state of his time Ibn Saud was naturally deeply involved in the issue of Palestine. It would be difficult to over-emphasize his concern for the rights of the Palestinian people. Although he preferred to remain out of the limelight, behind the scenes he was in constant communication with the Western powers concerned, and with other Arab leaders. He was always ready to offer his advice, and constantly appealed to the West on behalf of the Palestinians. He frequently issued strongly worded statements expressing his views, and warned of the consequences of ignoring a just solution to the question.
Throughout the general strike which took place in Palestine in 1936, the King was constantly in touch with the British government and the Arab rulers of Iraq, Transjordan and the Yemen. The strike dragged on for six months, and the British eventually appealed to the Arab leaders to intervene. Ibn Saud was instrumental in persuading the Palestinian leaders to bring the strike to an end. It is worth mentioning that, during the strike, the King had arranged for his regular contributions to the Palestinians to be diverted specifically to the orphans and other victims of the strike.
As the issue of Palestine grew in importance, and the implications became ever more serious, so the King’s concern increased. I have already mentioned Philby’s visit to Saudi Arabia in 1940 to try to persuade the King to accept the suggested plan for Palestine. It is clear that both Britain and the United States considered Ibn Saud’s agreement essential if any such plan was to be implemented.
In 1938 a British envoy was sent to Riyadh to request the King’s presence at a conference to be held in London the following year on the subject of Palestine. Fully realizing the importance of such a conference, the King accepted the invitation on behalf of his son, Prince Faisal, then Viceroy of Hejaz and Foreign Secretary. When Faisal left for London as head of the Saudi Arabian delegation in January 1939, he took with him a letter from Ibn Saud to the British Prime Minister, Neville Chamberlain. In it, the King reminded Britain of the support the Arabs had given to the British during the war, and appealed to the British government to state clearly, and in a spirit of friendship to the Arabs, their policy on Palestine. Despite all the King’s efforts, the so-called London conferences, or Round Table Conference, of February-March 1939 contributed nothing towards the hoped-for settlement. Ibn Saud’s correspondence with various Western heads of state makes interesting reading, and a selection of these letters is included in this book. (See Appendix 7.) In his letters, the King made constant appeals to the sense of justice and fair play of Britain and the United Sates, and was just as constantly reassured that these two powers would do nothing which would be detrimental to the interests of the Arabs. Subsequent events are only too well known.
I have so far said very little about His Majesty’s private life, and I do not intend to say very much now, as I feel that great men are entitled to their privacy even after they are dead. There are, however, some facts I can give without disrespect, particularly details concerning His Majesty’s family. During the course of his life the King had many wives, although of course never at one time more than the four permitted by religious law. Marriage was for him an important political tool and a powerful instrument in the unification of Saudi Arabia, for when the King married into a particular family, that family and their tribe were greatly honoured and more likely to remain loyal to His Majesty. Even if the wife was eventually divorced, the family remained honoured by the marriage, particularly if the women had borne children to the King.
Some marriages lasted longer than others; a few endured only a day or so. There were perhaps two wives of whom the King was particularly fond. One was Hassa As-Sudairi, mother of Crown Prince Fahd and his six brothers. She was the daughter of Ahmad As-Sudairi, His Majesty’s uncle on his mother’s side. The other was Shaheeda, a Syrian from Latakia, who was brought to Arabia when she was only ten or twelve years of age and became a member of the harem in the palace before becoming a wife. His Majesty had at least sixty children. Towards the end of his life he had thirty-six sons still living and numerous daughters (though he never mentioned the exact figure). He lived to see many grand-children on the male side and great-grandchildren on the female side. If a family photograph had ever been taken of His Majesty with all his children and grandchildren, the photographer would have had to fit at least three hundred people into the picture!
Many of the King’s sons each deserve a book to themselves, but there were three who stood out as being his particular favourites. The first was his eldest son Turki, who was born in 1901. During his short life, Turki proved a brave and resourceful warrior and a most skilful hunter. He had already shown a considerable talent for administration and was beginning to develop a personality almost equal to that of his father. Tragically, and to the lasting grief of all who knew him, he died at the age of eighteen in the influenza epidemic which swept Najd in 1919. That year is still known in Arabia as ‘the year of mercy’ because of the number of people whose souls found peace during its terrible passage.
After the death of Turki, Prince Saud was the King’s eldest surviving son. He had been born on the very day that Riyadh fell to his father in 1902. The King placed such confidence in him that he appointed him Viceroy of Riyadh, and nominated him as his successor in the early 1930s. Saud was tall and charming like his father and possessed many of his father’s qualities, in particular his generosity. He did not, however, have quite the same military prowess or force of will with which his father was endowed.
The third son, Prince Faisal, was also born at an auspicious moment, on the day of the battle of Rowdhat Muhanna in 1906. As a child he showed an early maturity; at the astonishing age of twelve has was sent by his father on a state visit to England, at the invitation of the British government. He impressed everybody he met there with his wisdom and kingly bearing. As he grew up Faisal became adroit, intelligent and an astute politician. After the conquest of the Holy land, when Faisal was still only twenty years old, Ibn Saud made him Viceroy of Hejaz and subsequently Foreign Secretary. In 1932, when the kingdom was formally given the name of Saudi Arabia, many of the important nations of the world asked Ibn Saud to make a state visit. His Majesty disliked the idea of leaving the country himself, but allowed Faisal to go in his place. The young Prince came through this important grand tour brilliantly, and afterwards became the obvious person to represent the Saudi state whenever a foreign visit became necessary. Once or twice, when I met Faisal myself, he spoke with great enthusiasm and eloquence about his journeys to Europe, and particularly about the city of London, which had impressed him more than any other capital. On top of all his other abilities, Faisal also inherited his father’s flair as a general, as was demonstrated by his lightning campaign in the Yemen. I believe that Ibn Saud placed more reliance upon him than on any other of his sons, and I once heard the King say that his only regret about Faisal was that there was only one of him.
His Majesty’s greatest private pleasure was his contact with his family. He liked to have as many of his relatives as possible around him at Court, and on most days held a special majlis at 7 a.m., when any of the family elders, his sons or other relatives could come to see him and discuss any problems they had, or simply pay their respects. Once a week he would hold an audience with all the men in his family. He held a separate audience with all the women about once a fortnight. The women came veiled or unveiled, according to the closeness of their family connection with him. The King often ordered fine materials from his agents in Bombay and Damascus to distribute as gift among his entire family. Similar presents were made to all Court officials and the members of the King’s retinue. The King adored his younger children, who had the run of the palace and were welcome to visit him at any audience without special permission.
Despite the massive wealth which His Majesty accumulated in the latter part of his reign, he led a frugal and austere life in accordance with the moral dictates of the Koran. His appetites were simple and his personal living accommodation modest. It need hardly be said that he never smoked tobacco or touched any liquor or intoxicating drug. The only indulgence he permitted himself in the way of drink was cardamom coffee, which he consumed in huge quantities and of which he became something of a connoisseur. (Cardamom is a small, fragrant Indian bean.) There was a small group of servants in the Court, all of the same family, who made all the coffee for the King; they travelled with him wherever he went, especially for that purpose. The ritual for producing the coffee was elaborate in the extreme. It was first roasted and boiled in a huge pot. The residue was then poured into a medium-sized pot and reboiled with fresh coffee. The resulting mixture was sifted into a small pot and cardamom added. From this pot the servants poured the coffee into small cups, an endless succession of which were taken to the King wherever he might be. The servants’ special technique, the secret of which was jealously guarded, of boiling the dregs of the coffee and adding them to the next brew was a process which added an indefinable ‘extra’ to the taste. Certainly, I never drank better coffee anywhere in the kingdom.
His Majesty had a well-developed sense of humour, which could sometimes take an impish turn. I remember one occasion when the Manager of Aramco, a Mr Ohliger, came to see him. As soon as Ohliger walked through the door, the King pretended to mistake him for an enemy and, putting on a face like thunder, ordered his immediate arrest. The order was of course immediately withdrawn, amongst general amusement, but poor Ohliger was still trembling hours later. However, the King would never countenance any frivolity in public, particularly if it seemed to him in any way irreligious. At one time early in his reign when he visited Kuwait, the people were so overjoyed to see him that they organized a grand reception at which a young teenage boy was called upon to sing. Music and dancing are anathema to a strict Wahhabi. As the youth launched into his high-pitched song, the King became so enraged that he leapt to his feet and drew his sword. Calling himself ‘son of Faisal’ (always a sign of extreme displeasure), he expressed outrage at the indecent performance. The boy went white and withdrew in haste, whereupon His Majesty’s composure returned and he sat down as if nothing had happened. Most of history’s great leaders are seen to have their frivolous moods and moments in a lighter vein from time to time, but not Ibn Saud. Perhaps he reserved these for his small children in the seclusion of the harem. They certainly never happened in public.
In the very brief intervals which were available to His Majesty for recreation, he loved to indulge his passion for hunting. Sometimes in the winter, he would leave for the desert with a small party and hunt game of all kinds, particularly wild deer. At that time of the year, bustard would fly over Najd in long columns, heading for their winter quarters in the Yemen. As spring approached they would return the same way, probably travelling to Siberia or Manchuria. Many of them fell victim to the King’s gun. Once His Majesty shot a bird which had a brass ring on it with a Chinese or Japanese inscription. I was asked to decipher it, but unfortunately the language was unknown to me.
If His Majesty had only a brief time available to him, he sometimes went a short distance outside Riyadh to a place called Al-Khafs. This was a depression in which water would collect if there had been recent rain. The area was much fresher and more fertile than the surrounding desert and was full of colourful vegetation. Sometimes the King would take his favourite counsellors and chiefs there for a picnic; on these rare occasions, talk of state business was forbidden and there would be relaxation and good food. His Majesty was known to unbend very slightly at these picnics, and would sometimes take along a servant with a particularly ready wit to act as jester. One of the jester’s tasks was to ask foolish questions of the King’s guests. Unless a suitable foolish answer was immediately forthcoming, the guest would be given an appropriate mock punishment or forfeit. Such antics were of course played out far from the public view, for His Majesty had the wisdom always to keep a certain distance between himself and his subjects, however great or important they might be. In this way, the reverence of his people for him was constantly maintained and the dignity of his position upheld. The jester episodes happened only over the last decade of the King’s life, and they never occurred more than once a year.
Abdul Aziz Ibn Saud died peacefully in Ta’if on 11 November 1953. His body was wrapped in a simple shroud and buried in the manner of a true Moslem, in an unmarked grave in his capital of Riyadh, there to lie at rest forever after a life of unsurpassed service to the nation he had created and to Islam. His reward from God can be seen on earth as well as in heaven, for the kingdom which he united under him has been given a legacy of unimaginable wealth, administered by an enlightened monarchy. Saudi Arabia sits at the cross-roads of the world, and has a strategic and economic significance which is more relevant today than ever before. The unification of the kingdom and the restoration of the pride and dignity of its people through the inspired leadership of Ibn Saud at this crucial moment in our history illustrates the workings of the benign and all-powerful hand of God.