Professor Madawi Al Rasheed

The ‘shepherd’ whose guidance and leadership Saudi religious scholars in the past called upon the population to follow, is no more. It is not the case that nobody is fulfilling this role. Instead, a leadership which was once identifiable in the person of a single individual is now diffuse, having been divided between the five most powerful leaders: King Abdullah and his four most powerful brothers or their children.

This change was consolidated under the reign of King Fahd, but was sealed when Abdullah became king. With his primacy as head of state, but also with his control of the National Guard and the tribal population that constitutes the bulk of this paramilitary force, King Abdullah controls a formidable part of the Saudi power structure.

But existing alongside the power of the monarch are those grouped around Prince Nayef, the interior minister. Employing 500,000 people, they control the security and intelligence apparatus, and demand total loyalty from every official. As powerful – in part thanks to budget which is thought have topped $18bn in 2004 – are those led by Prince Sultan, the defence minister and Crown Prince.

Balancing the ‘hard power’ of the military princes are those close to Prince Salman, the governor of Riyadh. Exercising influence within media, professional and academic circles, this group has sought to project itself as a progressive political hub through schemes meant to encourage the opening of Saudi Arabia to ‘religious’ and other kinds of tourism. Additionally this group patronises foreign scholars and researchers and other activities that raise its ‘intellectual’ profile on the basis of its preoccupation with heritage.

Abroad, the image of the kingdom is in the hands of the fifth group – that dominated by Prince Saud al-Faisal, the foreign minister, and which includes Prince Turki, the ambassador to Washington, and Prince Khalid, the governor of Asir. The Saudi regime depends primarily on this circle to project the right image to the West – an image founded on a mixture of modernity and moderate Islam. The image is one that appeals to the West, and this group’s role is bolstered both by their father’s association with foreign affairs and by links to Western, Asian and Arab intelligence circles which give them a sharp edge and a penetrating arm that is difficult to compete with.

Who’s next?

The ‘headless tribe’ I regard these multiple power centres as amounting to when taken together, has not only become entrenched but has also become more evident since the accession of King Abdullah. Each element is in effect a ‘principality’, each one cooperating or competing with the other, and the five together ruling the kingdom. As the royal family has grown in size, the competition and cooperation has evidently become more intense.

The landscape upon which will take place the succession from the gerontocracy now in charge, to whatever follows, is formed from the existence of these five ‘principalities’, each with its own resources, power and influence.

Clearly the royal family will at some point soon have to deal with the problem of the next succession, and specifically the transfer of leadership from the current generation of old princes to their sons. The time will come when succession will have to move from the horizontal pattern that has been practiced since 1953, to a vertical system. If such a shift does not take place, the multiple circles – the ‘principalities – grouped around the princes will continue to rule simultaneously. Such a situation is reminiscent of the last years of the ageing Soviet leadership within the politbureau.

Even before the succession issue becomes the primary preoccupation, the survival of the royal family depends on balancing various segments within this ‘headless tribe’. Some royal figures are rewarded financially in the absence of real power, while other segments are given leadership positions or ceremonial roles. The demographic explosion of the royal family has put pressure on the system and on the resources of the country. For the first time, royalty is in charge of bureaucracies and civil service jobs that in the past had been occupied by commoners. Meanwhile the size of the al-Saud family is putting pressure on its leading figures, all of whom continually need to balance the interests of various factions.

Given the family’s size, it is unlikely that one senior prince will be able to exclude the descendents of his brothers and limit the next succession to those within his own line of descent. It is more likely that the five circles – whose heads will be recruited from among the most senior or eligible descendents when the current heads pass away – will rule the country.

What does such an arrangement mean for Saudis – both today and in the future – if such an arrangement becomes further entrenched when the next generation of princes takes over?

Rule by wastah

To function in Saudi Arabia, one needs to be a client of at least one or two of these ‘principalities’, otherwise life can be very difficult. Calling an ambulance to save someone’s life, finding a hospital bed for a sick relative, getting a scholarship to study abroad, and even transferring the corpse of a dead family member from a Jeddah hospital to a Riyadh cemetery: all such events require mobilising a chain of ‘gatekeepers’ whose connections with one or two principalities is enough to overcome rigid bureaucracies and indifferent civil servants.

While state bureaucracies lag behind and are crippled by the virus of over-bureaucratisation and favouritism, ordinary people realise that being a client of this or that prince is the best immunity against the deadly virus. Wastah – the mediation by somebody in a senior position – is the best vaccination against lethargic civil servants. It gets you into the inner core of a ‘principality’, all of which operate as part of a quasi-pluralistic system that is beneficial in the short term but may prove to be disastrous in the long term.

Like clients who can manipulate and be manipulated, Saudis seem to be happy to play the game. In the absence of transparency and equal opportunity, they sometimes have no choice. If one prince sends someone to prison, another one may set him free. If one prince refuses to sponsor someone’s private health treatment in London, another prince might oblige. If the Ministry of Higher Education fails to grant a young student drop-out a scholarship to study in Washington, ‘private funds’ may be found from an alternative power centre. Such practices can undermine the credibility and judgement of state institutions, while simultaneously bolstering the prince’s personal reputation for generosity.

Whose sheep is whose?

But ‘patron-client’ relations are just one among several types of relationship that can develop between ‘shepherds and their herds’. One characteristic of this special patron-client relationship is the fact that Saudis remain subjects rather than citizens. Their rights are dependent on patronage networks rather than equal access to institutions or to clearly defined rights. Equally, and unfortunately, they are subject to a power divided between numerous ‘shepherds’.

The division of labour which is at the core of the relationship between the five ‘principalities’ serves to energise the functions of the state as much as it serves to present the various ‘faces’ of which the state is comprised. To some Western commentators the royal family plays a positive, stabilising role, as – in the words of one scholar – “they are the glue that holds the country together, and they provide government work as they are scattered in ministries.”

In my view the patronage networks, unequal access to resources, policies of exclusion, and co-optation on which the system depends, play a divisive role in society. Over almost eighty years, the survival of the regime was dependent on maintaining a polarised society that is deprived of opportunities to organise itself through independent civil society institutions and non-governmental organisations.

The consolidation of the different power centres with the accession of King Abdullah has come at a time when Saudis are aware of both the rigidity of the system of which they are a part, but are also aware that it will be a major challenge to ensure that the next succession is as smooth as the last one. The danger for the al-Saud if they fail to address the challenge before it is thrust upon them is that at the moment of the next transition a vacuum will appear between these ‘principalities’ which the absence of a single unifying figure will mean cannot be filled.

The issue then will be how the different constituencies of the existing ‘principalities’ respond. Will the ‘clients’ remain ‘clients’, will the ‘sheep’ remain ‘sheep’? As Saudi society develops its own strengths and gathers the ability to organise itself, one thing will become evident: that it will prove itself capable of occupying a vacuum, should one arise.