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San Francisco Chronicle, CA
May 21 2006
History proves me right, says Saudi's maverick prince
Son of kingdom's founder still fights for social reform
Anthony Shadid, Washington Post
Sunday, May 21, 2006
Riyadh, Saudi Arabia -- The coffee was served, then the dates. And at
that, Prince Talal, the son of Saudi Arabia's founder and long the
ruling family's bete noire, smiled wryly. "This is what we used to
live on," he said, "dates and camel's milk."
It was his way of saying: To look ahead, sometimes we need to look
back.
Talal is 75 now, still tall and formidable, with a glimmer of
defiance as he smoked a cigarette, cautiously doled out by an aide.
But humbled by back pain, he is a shadow of the man once known as
Saudi Arabia's "Red Prince." The color represented his politics, a
leftist bent that as a young man turned him against the ruling Saud
family, shook the kingdom and led him into exile in Lebanon and
Egypt.
His voice is softer these days, mellowed perhaps by failure, but the
words about his family remain remarkably the same.
"Here, the family is the master and the ruler," he said of his
brothers and cousins, as he sat at Fakhariya Palace. "This style
can't continue the same way. There has to be change in the nature of
authority, if things are going to change in the kingdom itself."
Talal is many things: for 50 years, the most liberal figure in a
family that remains the most conservative and traditional of the
Persian Gulf's monarchies and tribal dynasties; a philanthropist who
brings a ruthlessness to business that he once saved for politics; a
glimmer of light for the kingdom's liberals, many of whom acknowledge
that change in Saudi Arabia will probably only come under the
auspices of religion and its modernization, not through the secular
talk of civil society and individual rights.
Perhaps most compelling, though, is that Talal takes a debate about
democratic reform in the Arab world, defined lately by the Bush
administration, and illustrates a broader, more enduring context, one
that speaks to experience rather than promise. His calls for change
are little different from those in the 1950s and '60s, when he was
dismissed as a communist sympathizer; he remains a critic of U.S.
policy, citing Iraq's trauma as the latest example. To Talal, the
battle itself is not new, only the players.
"The world has changed, not me," he said. "History has proved the
rightness of what I was talking about.
"Some of the members of the family were against those ideas," he
said. "Now they're talking about them."
These days, Talal advocates a constitution that would bind an
absolute monarchy by law, "a social contract between the ruler and
those who are ruled." The parliament, now an appointed, relatively
toothless body known as the Consultative Council, would be at least
partially elected, with the right to oversee the budget, monitor the
government and question ministers, he said.
Women? "Right now, we have more than 2 million female students," he
said, shaking his head. "When they graduate, where are they going to
go? Either you close the schools and leave them to illiteracy or you
grant them an opportunity to work."
He laughed. "Can you imagine, can anyone imagine, that women cannot
drive in Saudi Arabia?" he said.
His list went on: Progress is impeded by "the opposition of religious
extremists." The religious establishment, long the allies of his
family, should stand aside as the country forges a division of power
-- judicial, executive and legislative. Along the way, the kingdom,
he said, must determine the mechanism of passing the monarchy from
the aging sons of the country's founder to their grandsons before
simmering rivalries between the branches of the House of Saud flare
into the open.
"The goal remains the same," he said, "the participation of people in
forming opinions and making decisions."
The same words, a different era: "Now we're freed from the notion of
the Red Prince, the name the Americans gave me."
Talal was reputed to be the favorite son of Abdel-Aziz ibn Saud, the
desert warrior who became king in 1932, eventually siring Talal and
35 other recognized heirs, the descendants of an array of marriages
that cemented his connections with the country's fractious tribes.
Talal's mother was a servant -- some say of Circassian origins,
others Armenian -- who, it is said, eventually became his favorite
wife.
Talal was among the savvier of the children, spending time in Beirut,
where he married Mona al-Solh, the daughter of Lebanon's first
post-independence prime minister. (One of their children, Walid bin
Talal, is a billionaire Saudi investor.) It was an introduction to
the pan-Arab aspirations of the leading al-Solh family and a taste of
the cosmopolitanism that Beirut was forging.
The years after Abdel-Aziz's death in 1953 were unsettled. Power was
inherited by his eldest son, Saud, a spendthrift more adept at
showering largesse on the tribes than administering the country. His
brothers soon contested his rule, and Talal navigated the rivalries
for influence. Early on, the present Saudi king, Abdullah, was an
ally, and in time as a minister, Talal began pushing for reform -- a
constitution, elections, a parliament and free press. Together, he
and his allies became known as the "Free Princes," a name taken from
the Free Officers who overthrew Egypt's monarchy in 1952 and were
eventually led by Gamal Abdel-Nasser.
He admits now to moving too fast.
"We were too young," he said. "We wanted 100 percent, but if we took
50, even 60 percent, we would have been blessed."
King Saud rejected the idea of a constitution, and Talal bitterly
criticized the decision in statements to Egyptian and Lebanese
newspapers. When Talal went for vacation in Beirut in 1961, the king
moved against him, declaring him persona non grata.
He recalled the confrontation at the Saudi Embassy in Beirut as the
ambassador asked him and his brothers to turn over their travel
documents: "I said, 'Why?' He said, 'I don't have reasons, it's the
order of King Saud.' I said, 'If the passport is the property of
Saud, go ahead. If the passport is the property of the kingdom, then
I have every right to keep it.' And I gave him the passport."
Talal and four brothers sought help in 1962 from Nasser, who had
electrified a generation with promises of Arab unity, the liberation
of Palestine and denunciations of regimes he deemed regressive, Saudi
Arabia among them. Unlike most of the Saudi royal family, Talal was
enamored with the Egyptian president as a leader -- he feels the same
today, he said -- but he feared being exploited.
"I said to Nasser, we came here just for the passports because we
want to go Lebanon. I didn't want to stay with him. I knew his
policy. I knew his way of thinking," Talal said. "He told me, 'I'll
give you 500 passports.' "
The passports didn't come for two months. In the meantime, Talal
spoke on the Voice of the Arabs, a Cairo-based radio station that
often carried Nasser's stentorian voice. The speeches -- denouncing
Saudi Arabia's rulers and calling for democratic reform -- solidified
his reputation as the Red Prince.
It was another two years before he mended fences and returned to
Saudi Arabia.
For years, Talal remained silent, amassing a fortune and running a
philanthropy. But in recent years, he has begun pressing the issue of
reform again, often from Fakhariya Palace. To him, the family can
bring about change by redefining its role.
"In the 21st century, the king should be the guardian of the law, but
the laws and legislation should come from the people, and the people
should elect the members of the parliament," Talal said, sitting next
to a rendering of the family tree.
He retains his suspicion of U.S. intentions. He traveled last week to
Egypt, speaking at the American University of Cairo. He was relaxed,
in a crisp, dark suit and maroon tie. At one point, he urged women in
the audience to ask questions. As he did 45 years ago, he tried to
distance his country's needs for reform from U.S. policy in the
region.
"Does America want direct and transparent elections that allow the
people to make their own decisions in choosing who will be in power?"
Talal said, in reference to the success of Islamic activists in
recent elections in Egypt and the Palestinian territories. "Or are we
tailoring elections to the United States that serve American
interests?"
In the mercurial politics of the House of Saud, Talal's role is
debated. He is a member of the family council, a body of 18
influential members drawn from Abdel-Aziz's son and grandsons and
other branches. Some say he has the ear of Abdullah, and his son,
Prince Turki, says he talks to the king once a week.
Others discount any special influence, and in private, some princes
are especially venomous about Talal's past.
Talal, these days a little hard of hearing, doesn't claim influence.
At the end of his story, he posed for a picture. He decided to don
his headdress, reluctantly. Tradition still doesn't sit well.
"I hate to wear this," he said.
May 21 2006
History proves me right, says Saudi's maverick prince
Son of kingdom's founder still fights for social reform
Anthony Shadid, Washington Post
Sunday, May 21, 2006
Riyadh, Saudi Arabia -- The coffee was served, then the dates. And at
that, Prince Talal, the son of Saudi Arabia's founder and long the
ruling family's bete noire, smiled wryly. "This is what we used to
live on," he said, "dates and camel's milk."
It was his way of saying: To look ahead, sometimes we need to look
back.
Talal is 75 now, still tall and formidable, with a glimmer of
defiance as he smoked a cigarette, cautiously doled out by an aide.
But humbled by back pain, he is a shadow of the man once known as
Saudi Arabia's "Red Prince." The color represented his politics, a
leftist bent that as a young man turned him against the ruling Saud
family, shook the kingdom and led him into exile in Lebanon and
Egypt.
His voice is softer these days, mellowed perhaps by failure, but the
words about his family remain remarkably the same.
"Here, the family is the master and the ruler," he said of his
brothers and cousins, as he sat at Fakhariya Palace. "This style
can't continue the same way. There has to be change in the nature of
authority, if things are going to change in the kingdom itself."
Talal is many things: for 50 years, the most liberal figure in a
family that remains the most conservative and traditional of the
Persian Gulf's monarchies and tribal dynasties; a philanthropist who
brings a ruthlessness to business that he once saved for politics; a
glimmer of light for the kingdom's liberals, many of whom acknowledge
that change in Saudi Arabia will probably only come under the
auspices of religion and its modernization, not through the secular
talk of civil society and individual rights.
Perhaps most compelling, though, is that Talal takes a debate about
democratic reform in the Arab world, defined lately by the Bush
administration, and illustrates a broader, more enduring context, one
that speaks to experience rather than promise. His calls for change
are little different from those in the 1950s and '60s, when he was
dismissed as a communist sympathizer; he remains a critic of U.S.
policy, citing Iraq's trauma as the latest example. To Talal, the
battle itself is not new, only the players.
"The world has changed, not me," he said. "History has proved the
rightness of what I was talking about.
"Some of the members of the family were against those ideas," he
said. "Now they're talking about them."
These days, Talal advocates a constitution that would bind an
absolute monarchy by law, "a social contract between the ruler and
those who are ruled." The parliament, now an appointed, relatively
toothless body known as the Consultative Council, would be at least
partially elected, with the right to oversee the budget, monitor the
government and question ministers, he said.
Women? "Right now, we have more than 2 million female students," he
said, shaking his head. "When they graduate, where are they going to
go? Either you close the schools and leave them to illiteracy or you
grant them an opportunity to work."
He laughed. "Can you imagine, can anyone imagine, that women cannot
drive in Saudi Arabia?" he said.
His list went on: Progress is impeded by "the opposition of religious
extremists." The religious establishment, long the allies of his
family, should stand aside as the country forges a division of power
-- judicial, executive and legislative. Along the way, the kingdom,
he said, must determine the mechanism of passing the monarchy from
the aging sons of the country's founder to their grandsons before
simmering rivalries between the branches of the House of Saud flare
into the open.
"The goal remains the same," he said, "the participation of people in
forming opinions and making decisions."
The same words, a different era: "Now we're freed from the notion of
the Red Prince, the name the Americans gave me."
Talal was reputed to be the favorite son of Abdel-Aziz ibn Saud, the
desert warrior who became king in 1932, eventually siring Talal and
35 other recognized heirs, the descendants of an array of marriages
that cemented his connections with the country's fractious tribes.
Talal's mother was a servant -- some say of Circassian origins,
others Armenian -- who, it is said, eventually became his favorite
wife.
Talal was among the savvier of the children, spending time in Beirut,
where he married Mona al-Solh, the daughter of Lebanon's first
post-independence prime minister. (One of their children, Walid bin
Talal, is a billionaire Saudi investor.) It was an introduction to
the pan-Arab aspirations of the leading al-Solh family and a taste of
the cosmopolitanism that Beirut was forging.
The years after Abdel-Aziz's death in 1953 were unsettled. Power was
inherited by his eldest son, Saud, a spendthrift more adept at
showering largesse on the tribes than administering the country. His
brothers soon contested his rule, and Talal navigated the rivalries
for influence. Early on, the present Saudi king, Abdullah, was an
ally, and in time as a minister, Talal began pushing for reform -- a
constitution, elections, a parliament and free press. Together, he
and his allies became known as the "Free Princes," a name taken from
the Free Officers who overthrew Egypt's monarchy in 1952 and were
eventually led by Gamal Abdel-Nasser.
He admits now to moving too fast.
"We were too young," he said. "We wanted 100 percent, but if we took
50, even 60 percent, we would have been blessed."
King Saud rejected the idea of a constitution, and Talal bitterly
criticized the decision in statements to Egyptian and Lebanese
newspapers. When Talal went for vacation in Beirut in 1961, the king
moved against him, declaring him persona non grata.
He recalled the confrontation at the Saudi Embassy in Beirut as the
ambassador asked him and his brothers to turn over their travel
documents: "I said, 'Why?' He said, 'I don't have reasons, it's the
order of King Saud.' I said, 'If the passport is the property of
Saud, go ahead. If the passport is the property of the kingdom, then
I have every right to keep it.' And I gave him the passport."
Talal and four brothers sought help in 1962 from Nasser, who had
electrified a generation with promises of Arab unity, the liberation
of Palestine and denunciations of regimes he deemed regressive, Saudi
Arabia among them. Unlike most of the Saudi royal family, Talal was
enamored with the Egyptian president as a leader -- he feels the same
today, he said -- but he feared being exploited.
"I said to Nasser, we came here just for the passports because we
want to go Lebanon. I didn't want to stay with him. I knew his
policy. I knew his way of thinking," Talal said. "He told me, 'I'll
give you 500 passports.' "
The passports didn't come for two months. In the meantime, Talal
spoke on the Voice of the Arabs, a Cairo-based radio station that
often carried Nasser's stentorian voice. The speeches -- denouncing
Saudi Arabia's rulers and calling for democratic reform -- solidified
his reputation as the Red Prince.
It was another two years before he mended fences and returned to
Saudi Arabia.
For years, Talal remained silent, amassing a fortune and running a
philanthropy. But in recent years, he has begun pressing the issue of
reform again, often from Fakhariya Palace. To him, the family can
bring about change by redefining its role.
"In the 21st century, the king should be the guardian of the law, but
the laws and legislation should come from the people, and the people
should elect the members of the parliament," Talal said, sitting next
to a rendering of the family tree.
He retains his suspicion of U.S. intentions. He traveled last week to
Egypt, speaking at the American University of Cairo. He was relaxed,
in a crisp, dark suit and maroon tie. At one point, he urged women in
the audience to ask questions. As he did 45 years ago, he tried to
distance his country's needs for reform from U.S. policy in the
region.
"Does America want direct and transparent elections that allow the
people to make their own decisions in choosing who will be in power?"
Talal said, in reference to the success of Islamic activists in
recent elections in Egypt and the Palestinian territories. "Or are we
tailoring elections to the United States that serve American
interests?"
In the mercurial politics of the House of Saud, Talal's role is
debated. He is a member of the family council, a body of 18
influential members drawn from Abdel-Aziz's son and grandsons and
other branches. Some say he has the ear of Abdullah, and his son,
Prince Turki, says he talks to the king once a week.
Others discount any special influence, and in private, some princes
are especially venomous about Talal's past.
Talal, these days a little hard of hearing, doesn't claim influence.
At the end of his story, he posed for a picture. He decided to don
his headdress, reluctantly. Tradition still doesn't sit well.
"I hate to wear this," he said.