If you want to assess the staying power and diplomatic skills of Prince Saud al-Faisal consider this: during the 30 years he has been Saudi Arabia’s Foreign Minister, Britain has got through nine Foreign Secretaries. True, it helps when you are a son of the King who founded your country, and whose dynasty remains in power, but that won’t keep you in the job unless you demonstrate repeatedly that you can influence world opinion.
Prince Saud did that again yesterday when he blamed the West for allowing Israel to develop a nuclear arsenal: this has led to the crisis over Iran’s nuclear ambitions, he claimed. He also criticised Iran, asking how it would use its nuclear weapons. “If they hit Israel they are going to kill Palestinians. If they miss Israel, they are going to hit Saudi Arabia or Jordan. Where is the gain in that?” It was an outspoken comment from a man who is known for his reserve, moderation and supreme smoothness and steadiness in an international climate that has been especially volatile since the terrorist attacks on 9/11. America was shocked to learn that 15 of the 19 suicide pilots came from the country it considered one of its main Middle East allies, and it was inevitable that Saudi Arabia’s relations with the West would come under strain. Prince Saud’s job was to repair them, without antagonising his own conservative and strictly Muslim population — including the element who had shown themselves willing to embrace terrorism.
It is this adherence to — and responsibility for — Islam that makes such a vastly wealthy country vulnerable, and Prince Saud’s subtle and sophisticated skill in protecting its interests, while simultaneously satisfying the needs of the West (having vast oil reserves helps) and assuaging their fears, is what has kept him in power. International commentators agree that he has pulled off this most tricky of balancing acts.
Born in 1940, he had a traditional education topped up with a degree at Princeton, and his father, the late King Faisal, ensured that Prince Saud, always regarded as able, was not spoon-fed his career — in the 1970s he learnt his trade by working for Sheikh Yamani. He is married with six children, and these days a bad back can make him look frail, but unusually for a man who prefers discrete negotiations, he holds weekly press conferences in Riyadh. His views remain robust and, as a moderniser, he is in favour of women voting. “They are more sensible voters than men,” he says.