Princess Sultana's Circle

beloved land was so shameful that it was the final
nail in the coffin of the House of Al Sa’ud.”
    With her hands, Amani
pretended to hammer that nail.
    “ And so, Uncle Fahd lost
his own people when he embraced the Western enemy.”
    “ That’s simply not true,
Amani,” Maha exclaimed in protest. “All Saudis love the
King!”
    Amani gave her sister a
condescending smile, but did not bother to argue Maha’s
claim.
    Remembering the very real
fear that Saddam Hussein, our Arab neighbor and former friend,
might actually bomb our cities, I quoted an Arab proverb, “Never
forget, Amani, ‘a prudent enemy is safer than a reckless
friend’!”
    An increasingly curious
Maha now asked her sister, “And so, what else do you know,
Amani?”
    Amani shrugged her small
shoulders. “The rest of the story is known by everyone in Saudi
Arabia. The moment Western armies arrived on our soil, Saudis began
to rise from a long sleep. Intellectuals began to participate in
clandestine meetings, and an opposition group was
formed.”
    I sniffed. What Amani said
was true. Every Saudi Arabian knew that a committee of dissidents,
composed of fifty men, including scholars, businessmen, judges, and
religious leaders had written a letter to the King.
    This letter called for an
end to oppression, and asked for participation in the running of
the government. Over four hundred prominent Saudi Arabians added
their signatures to the dissidents’ document. When this letter was
presented to the King, it is said he went into shock before
consulting the Council of the Senior Scholars. On orders from the
King, this council had condemned the committee, saying it should be
abolished and members punished. The secret police had arrested the
professor and had jailed him at Al Hayir Prison, located a few
kilometers outside of Riyadh.
    Amani spoke once again. “I
do know that for six months Professor Al Massari was kept
imprisoned, partly in solitary confinement.”
    Maha clicked her tongue in
sympathy.
    I gave her a sharp look.
“Do not forget, Daughter, this man is calling for the downfall of
your own family.”
    Maha’s face reddened as she
looked away.
    “ I was told by my friends
that this professor was tortured while in prison,” Amani continued.
“While under interrogation, prison guards spit in his face, beat
his feet with a bamboo cane, pulled his beard, and boxed his
ears.”
    I stared at my hands
listening, ashamed, knowing that such events are routine in Saudi
prisons.
    “ My friend also told me
that the professor was charged with heresy. Of course, when told to
confess, he refused.
    “ The High Court could not
agree upon an action. They were obviously dealing with a man of
courage, and the law said they must either behead him, or release
him. Since the court was fearful of creating a martyr, the
professor was given a chance to appeal his case. He was told that
he would be released and given a chance to reflect upon his
actions. If he kept away from political controversy, he might
remain free.”
    Such is the way of my
family, I thought. They always hope that problems will simply
vanish. If only all the dilemmas of life were so simple!
    “ Well, of course, the
professor is not a man who can be silenced, so immediately on his
release he began to participate in the Committee’s actions
again.
    “ A secret source warned the
professor that the capital charge of treason was being prepared
against him. The Committee agreed that the time had come for the
professor to leave Saudi Arabia, and continue his fight from
abroad. An elaborate escape plan was prepared.”
    I felt a flutter in my
heart. Was my own daughter privy to secret information about his
escape?
    “ The professor and a friend
came up with a ruse to visit an ill friend confined in a hospital.
Inside the hospital, they were met by a third man who bore a
striking physical resemblance to the professor, who changed places
with him. When the two men left, the government agents trailing the
professor followed the wrong man. No longer followed, it was easy
for the professor to get to the Riyadh Airport. With a false
passport, he flew to a small town on the Yemeni border. He waited
for two days for his Yemeni contacts, men who knew a route which
avoided border controls. The small secret group crossed the
Saudi-Yemeni border on foot. In Yemen, there were new contacts
waiting to assist him on his journey to London.”
    Amani’s voice came across
low and heavy. “Of course,