Professor Madawi Al Rasheed

On 23 June this year, Saudis in Riyadh’s al-Nakhil neighbourhood woke up to count several bodies drenched in blood after a street battle between Jihadis and security forces.

Such scenes have become familiar to the residents of Saudi cities, and the interior ministry spokesman announced that the battle marked a victory over the group “that has gone astray” – the contemporary Kharijites of the Saudi regime, who have turned sleepy neighbourhoods into battlegrounds.

Since the 1990s Saudi cities have lost their reputation as islands of tranquillity in a turbulent Arab world. But is this Saudi violence a contemporary phenomenon – or is it a blast from the past?

Since 11 September 2001 the constant flow of images of Osama Bin Laden has brought to mind memories of earlier figures – figures that are well known to those who have made the historical study of Saudi Arabia their profession and career. Two personalities immediately spring to mind: Faysal al-Duwaysh and Juhayman al-Utaybi. Their stories bear a striking resemblance to that of Bin Laden, for while the Bin Laden phenomenon is unique in its impact and magnitude, it is similar to previous events in Saudi history for the way it demonstrates a certain inter-connection between Saudi internal politics and the country’s relation with external powers.

From bedouins to religious zealots

Faysal al-Duwaysh of the Mutair tribe was a rebel who challenged Saudi authority in 1927 by mobilising the Ikhwan - not the Egyptian Muslim Brotherhood created by Hassan al-Bana, but a tribal force created by Ibn Saud, the founder of Saudi Arabia, and educated in Wahhabi Islam, the puritanical reformist movement which had merged in the eighteenth century.

Under the sponsorship of Ibn Saud, the tribes of the Arabian Peninsula were sent religious educators – the mutawwa – volunteers whose mission was to educate the tribes in the basic principles of Islam, strengthen their allegiance to the Al-Saud and commit themselves to spreading their hegemony. But above all, their mission was to encourage the tribes to engage in jihad, a struggle against those whom they considered as having deviated from the true path of Islam.

As it unfolded, this struggle evolved into one focused on establishing Saudi hegemony over most of Arabia. The Ikhwan and their mentors the mutawwa, proved to be an important force behind the consolidation of the Saudi state in 1932. They operated a system of terror that was difficult to evade as long as they had the full support of Ibn Saud.

As a tribal sheikh, al-Duwaysh combined his position as leader of his own tribe with that of a religious zealot in order to spread Saudi hegemony over other tribes and communities in the country. In so doing he was implementing the model conceived by the fourteenth century scholar Ibn Khaldoun, of a marriage between religion and tribal solidarity. Together with his tribesmen, al-Duwaysh was subjected to the programme of ‘discipline and punishment’ introduced by Ibn Saud’s mutawwa. But as a result of his indoctrination, his character changed, and he was transformed from “a savage, arrogant, and shrewd bedouin into a religious zealot”, according to Kayr al-Din al-Zirkili a Syrian writer in Ibn Saud’s court.

But in the process something went horribly wrong for Ibn Saud.

While al-Duwaysh’s enthusiasm and ambitions to ‘Islamise’ the population of Arabia knew no limits, the context of his mission had changed dramatically by late 1920s. Britain was firmly installed in Kuwait, Trans-Jordan and Iraq at the time. It was busy finalising boundaries and guarding frontiers in a region where the population had no experience of such things. Al-Duwaysh wanted to expand beyond what Britain considered appropriate. His mission to spread his version of Islam conflicted with Britain’s understanding of state boundaries and its own interests in the region. Al-Duwaysh presented his demands to Ibn Saud. He denounced the British ‘infidels’ for interfering with tribal movements across the newly drawn frontiers. He also admonished Ibn Saud himself for succumbing to pressure from British officers and political agents who were stationed in the Gulf.

Al-Duwaysh – together with other rebels – declared Ibn Saud unfit to rule over the Muslim community, having lost his independence of action to Britain. Other criticism of the Saudi leadership then came to highlight how Ibn Saud’s personal conduct was starting to ‘deviate’ from the Islam into which Al-Duwaysh had been socialised, with Ibn Saud being reprimanded for his personal conduct and serial marriages.

Ibn Saud, Al-Duwaysh’s patron, then realised that his client should be restrained if he wanted to remain on good terms with Britain, the regional superpower of the time. But to do so he did not follow the steps of Henry II who, in response to the crisis focused on Thomas Becket, is known to have uttered: “what miserable drones and traitors have I nourished and prompted in my household.” Instead, Ibn Saud was himself the knight who rode at the head of a fighting force consisting mainly of men from Najdi oases, to end Al-Duwaysh’s rebellion.

The 1927 ‘war on terror’ ended with the battle of Sibila, after several military assaults on the Ikhwan’s camps. Later, Ibn Saud accepted British offers to send its Royal Air Force, stationed in Kuwait and Iraq at the time, to chase Al-Duwaysh in the vast desert territories that separated Ibn Saud’s domain from British protected territories. Under bombardment, several members of the Ikhwan took refuge in Kuwait, where reports at the time told of “panic-stricken people rushing in terror from both the RAF and Ibn Saud”.

The British feared that the Ikhwan would seek refuge with Kuwaiti tribes and eventually merge with them. After several bombing raids the British caught Al-Duwaysh in January 1930, but were reluctant to hand him over to Ibn Saud without conditions “fearing either summary execution of large numbers, possibly including women and children, or alternatively, a free pardon, enabling them to raid again in the future”, according to Clive Leatherdale, an authority on British-Saudi correspondence. Britain eventually handed Al-Duwaysh and other Ikhwan rebels over to Ibn Saud, who promptly put him in prison where he ‘died’ within months of his capture.

A second revival

The defeat of the Ikhwan rebels marked the end of a turbulent era in Saudi history. The rebels proved to be an efficient fighting force to be used in the expansion of Ibn Saud’s realm. But they turned out to be problematic in the consolidation of his authority. Nevertheless, in 1932, after the rebellion, Ibn Saud declared his realm the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia.

The second personality with whom Osama bin Laden is comparable, is more recent.

On 20 November 1979, Juhayman al-Utaybi together with other supporters surprised the Saudi government and the Muslim world when they laid siege to the Grand Mosque in Mecca during the annual pilgrimage season.

Juhayman had been an active preacher who ventured opinions on the nature of the just Muslim ruler, relations with the “infidels”, and the materialism and corruption of the Al-Saud. His main criticism was directed against the Saudi government, whom he saw as embracing the cause of non-Muslims by its close alliance with foreign powers – this time the United States of America.

The majority of Juhayman’s followers – numbering around 200-400 rebels – had been students in Saudi Arabia’s religious universities. The circle that endorsed his views was of course much larger. They included Saudis and other Muslims, from Kuwait, Yemen and Egypt. In the eyes of most observers, Juhayman and his followers represented an Islamic uprising in protest at what its members described as the religious and moral laxity and degeneration of the Saudi rulers. Like Al-Duwaysh before him, Juhayman openly attacked the Saudi royal family for “improper personal conduct and corruption” and its reliance on the “infidels” for security.

Juhayman did not differ from his predecessor, al-Duwaysh as both were beneficiaries of a formalised religious education developed, sponsored and promoted by the Saudi state. They both had royal patronage. Both al-Duwaysh and Juhayman were Saudi warriors, the latter having been employed by the Saudi National Guard.

Saudi Arabia responded to Juhayman’s challenge by mobilising the Saudi official ulama, who were nothing less than Juhayman’s mentors. The highest religious authority in the Kingdom – Sheikh Abd al-Aziz ibn Baz – issued a fatwa supporting the rulers and authorising military intervention in the sacred sanctuary of Mecca. Calling upon French military assistance, the Saudi government stormed the holy shrine. On 3 December 1979, the rebels emerged. Juhayman was captured and later beheaded after the government secured a fatwa from its leading religious clerics.

Bin Laden: ‘old wine in new bottles’

The Juhayman rebellion unleashed contradictory social outcomes and tensions not anticipated by a government that championed modernisation in the process of creating a new foundation for its legitimacy. The mosque siege was a political awakening that drew on religious rhetoric that became more articulate under the sponsorship of religious centres of learning, education and literacy.

Thus, we come to the 1990s. Here we are confronted with Osama Bin Laden, the originator of a truly trans-national phenomenon, who was born and bred in Saudi Arabia, but where he has no tribal roots in, his father having come from the Hadramawt region of modern Yemen, in the 1930s.

While his target is the United States, Bin Laden purports to represent more than that. His affluence and business interests are evidence of his social integration – a person who until 1994 was regarded by the Saudi government as a good citizen. Although Saudi Arabia has distanced itself from Bin Laden since the mid-1990s, he was fully integrated into the elite, and had solid connections with the highest authorities in government. He crossed the divide between insiders and outsiders, and was trusted by the regime, amassing immense wealth thanks to his networks among important princes. Together with the United States, the Saudi government relied on him and others to put into practice their plans for liberating Afghanistan from Soviet occupation in 1979. He volunteered to provide services, offering transport, accommodation and training for the jihadis who responded to the call to liberate Afghanistan.

Once again, Saudi Arabia found in Bin Laden a warrior who could carry out its plans – though this time the focus was abroad, in Afghanistan. Bin Laden started his activities first in Peshawar in Pakistan and later moved to Afghanistan. He proved his credentials and inspired a young generation of Saudis and other Muslims to fight for the Afghan cause.

Much like Al-Duywaysh and Juhayman, he followed the success of his mission in Afghanistan by turning his attention to his early sponsors – the Saudi regime. But his ambition to create a global Muslim community that was both strong and independent, collided with the political concerns of the Saudis. The fatal blow came in 1990, when the Saudi government invited Americans to defend the land of Islam against imminent invasion by Saddam Hussain. In a country where substantial resources have been dedicated to building the military infrastructure and purchasing weapons, mainly from the United States, Bin Laden’s objections became more challenging. He denounced the Saudi government for inviting American troops to defend the kingdom, and objected to the Saudi alliance with the United States, given its continuous support for Israel. He began to call for the overthrow of Muslim leaders, including the Saudis, for their intimate relations with the West. His denunciations eventually led to Saudi Arabia withdrawing his citizenship in 1994.

Three of a kind

The similarity between these three historical characters is striking.

All reject a comfortable life in royal courts and turn to one associated with mystics and outcasts. All are products of royal patronage and sponsorship. All resist the lure of affluence and status. All are merciless towards their enemies. All are crushed with the assistance of foreign powers. All are denounced by their early mentors – the official Saudi religious establishment and patrons, mainly Saudi princes.

A single message emerges from these three historical figures, who are separated by time but not space. The harsh and arid landscape of Al-Duyawsh’s rebellion, his puritanical life and wretched appearance (as described by British officers in Kuwait during his captivity), and the upbringing of Juhayman in provincial quarters of Saudi Arabia are not far removed from regions where Bin Laden is believed to have taken refuge. All had access to the royal court but opted for migration, a deliberate flight to territories from which they could launch their rebellion against the so-called agents of blasphemy and despotism. Al-Duwaysh visited the royal court but was not impressed. The descendent of an old Ikhwani, Juhayman could have developed a military career in the National Guard but preferred retreating into the vast desert to plot his attack on the mosque. Bin Laden abandoned palaces built by his family’s construction company and took refuge on the periphery of the land of Islam, Afghanistan.

Bin Laden is, however, operating in a world that has changed dramatically since the eras of his two predecessors. This is thanks to transformation of both Saudi Arabia and the wider world. In Saudi Arabia, we now have a literate population which is more receptive to current affairs and more aware of the political changes that have swept the country in the last fifty years. The Gulf War in 1990 brought a new kind of political awareness unprecedented in the country. Meanwhile, Bin Laden benefits from globalised communication technology – a means of spreading a message which was unavailable to his predecessors.

September 11 and the Saudi domestic scene

It is common for specialists on Saudi Arabia to search for religious, social, cultural, economic and political factors that may underlie the Bin Laden phenomenon and those of his predecessors. One recurrent question has been why Saudi society has produced these ‘puritanical rebels’, who clothe their political opposition in religious rhetoric, and thus challenge royal authority in a society known for its acquiescence? Why have such rebels combined their criticism of domestic politics with an uncompromising attack on the government’s relationship with the West – Britain in the first half of the twentieth century, and the USA in the second half?

This is the root of the problem.

Despite the decades that separate the three personalities, a constant fact has remained unchanged: Saudi Arabia has symbolic significance not only for its own citizens but the Muslim world as a whole. Its Muslim rebels have had more impact than those who can be described as secularists, leftists, socialists, nationalists and - more recently – liberals. In the 1960s and 1970s the country had its share of the latter, but all have now sunk into historical oblivion, the reason being that they failed to incorporate into their opposition the element that resonates with the population, namely Saudi Arabia’s Islamic heritage.

The country’s leadership claims to guard Islam, its shrines and its causes. Here lies the root of the problem. A government whose legitimacy springs from this important source is bound to encounter opposition grounded in the tradition of interpretation and reinterpretation, which is at the heart of the Islamic tradition. Being the guardian of the two holy shrines, the Saudi king is subject to responsibilities derived from a sacred tradition. As a human, he is not infallible and his government can make mistakes, although official media and propaganda tend to project an image of the leadership that is akin to that of the infallible Shia Imams.

But his conduct and that of his entourage is subject to scrutiny. With the consolidation of the state and the modernisation of the country, the Saudi leadership made decisions that were regarded by many as deviating from true Islam. One important “deviation” has been its continuous reliance on the United States. Muslim specialists – together with the majority of Saudis – resent their rulers’ dependence on this foreign power for their security. Although American military personnel retreated to neighbouring Qatar after 9/11, many Saudis are still not convinced that their government has freed itself from American domination. In fact more and more Saudis believe that the regime is totally under American influence and lacks the ability to achieve disengagement.

This resentment is not comparable to any similar sentiments experienced in other Muslim countries for a very important reason. Saudi Arabia remains the land of Islam and its most sacred shrines. It is this symbolic significance that prevents compromises being each when the issue at stake is how an Islamic country endowed with immense wealth has lost its will and ability to act independently.

In the eyes of most Saudis, their country has not translated its religious symbolism and wealth into real power in the international arena. The political impotence of Saudi Arabia at the international level frustrates the Saudi population of today as it frustrated that of earlier decades. The unresolved Palestinian problem is a reminder of Saudi Arabia’s failure to translate its rhetoric about supporting Islam and Muslims into concrete action.

When this ‘impotence’ is combined with the mismanagement of the internal political scene, the plundering of national wealth, the corruption of the leadership, and uncertain economic prospects, a volatile situation breeds rebels such as the aforementioned. Here internal and international politics become entangled, where one cannot be separated from the other.

The situation also generates views of the world whereby peoples are divided into ‘us’ and ‘them’. While in most Muslim countries a middle ground has bridged the gap between Muslims and non-Muslims, in Saudi Arabia a comfortable coexistence has yet to be achieved. The real problem here is not religious preaching, classroom teaching material or theological treatise denouncing non-Muslims. The real problem is actual economic and political development, which are more likely to determine how Saudis respond to preachers and interact with religious education.

The messages of the three historical figures discussed here have not been different. The ‘enemy’ has not changed: the Saudi ruling group and the ‘infidels’, Britain early in the twentieth century, the United States of America at the century’s close.

But despite these similarities – and the lessons that could be learned from them – the Saudi government has not taken sufficient notice of its own history. If it supports fully the onslaught on Iraq for example, it antagonises its own people and ulama, some of whom have already circulated fatwas forbidding ‘co-operation’ with the infidels against Muslims. If it denounces the American wars in Afghanistan or Iraq, it risks becoming the next target.

The Saudi dilemma can only become more acute as the ‘war on terror’ unfolds in other places. This, combined with the festering wound in Palestine and the violence in Iraq, makes the Saudi regime feel trapped between its strategic alliance with the US and its volatile domestic population.

In April 2002, during the then Israeli prime minister Ariel Sharon’s punitive war in the West Bank, Saudis took to the streets in various peripheral cities to demonstrate in support of the Palestinian cause. They defied a government ban on demonstrations and chanted slogans against Israel and the United States. Such demonstrations were tame by comparison with similar events in other Arab countries – in Bahrain, for example – but they reflected the level of frustration which has been breeding in the country. Young Saudis emerged from mosques to voice their anger while Saudi newspapers debated whether demonstrations were an appropriate reaction and whether they are permissible within Islam.

In the minds of many Saudis, however, the most important question was why they are not allowed to take part in demonstrations similar to those raging in other parts of the Arab world and beyond. As Israel prepares for a second occupation of Gaza, Qataris organised a tame demonstration in solidarity with Palestinians. By contrast, Saudis were asked by the Mufti to perform a special Qunut prayer.

One theme underlines Saudi debate: how long can Saudis tolerate being denied the right to express themselves in their own country? In the absence of legitimate and independent political opposition inside the country, and amid restrictions on political participation and freedom of expression, the mosque will remain for the foreseeable future both the assembly hall and the source of inspiration for Saudi youth, who constitute the majority of the Saudi population.

Will Saudis continue to respond to the challenges of their internal politics and the regional context by praying in mosques?

We know that a small minority responded to the call of the most famous of Saudi puritanical rebels and took up arms in defence of his project. But both Saudi religious significance and wealth have failed to produce the independence and political will desired by most Saudis, most of whom interpret relations with the US as part of the equation explaining this failure. The shortcomings of their internal political system become entangled with unacceptable relations with foreign powers, which are seen as perpetuating the injustices experienced domestically and the humiliation felt by many Arabs and Muslims over the Palestinian-Israeli conflict and now Iraq.

Unless a serious change in the domestic political scene takes place and an acceptable compromise with the outside world is reached, one can only assume that the succession of “puritanical rebels” is not an end. The Bin Laden phenomenon is evidently not the first of its kind. Nor will it be the last in Saudi historical memory. For the foreseeable future it seems that Saudi Arabia will remain hostage to this vicious cycle.