“So what do you think is going to happen?” asked my friend calling from her office in Turkey.
“In terms of what?” I responded absent-mindedly.
“Well. You know. I mean with the funeral and stuff. There are bound to be problems. I guess most of the royal family will be staying away, right?”
“Of course not,” I retaliated. “Most of them are trying to get back.”
“But is it safe? Don’t you think that it would be the perfect high-profile opportunity that Al-Qaeda would be looking for?”
The ensuing conversation amply demonstrated her perplexity with regards to basic issues as well as a lack of fundamental understanding of Saudi Arabia, the ruling establishment and its people. This all contributed to forming her impression that what we were about to witness was some kind of Le Carre-inspired intrigue that would play out against the background of political turmoil and social unrest. It was disturbing to note that once again some of the media were interested solely in lying in wait for the potential misfortunes that would befall the country and reporting the dissent that could potentially arise from a change in leadership.
What we in actual fact did see was perhaps one of the smoothest transitions of power in living memory. As expected, once there was no juicy story about infighting within the House of Saud international interest of the event waned with many of the networks refusing to run associated features.
There are many points that I think need to be clarified. The late King Fahd was a tremendous leader who ruled his diverse nation amid trying times and as a result of his wisdom and courage secured a great deal of popular support. The death of King Fahd deeply saddened his subjects. Outside the Turki ibn Abdullah Mosque, where funeral prayers were held, people had traveled from far and wide to pay their last respects. Saudis and non-Saudis, young and old, rich and poor had streamed in at the crack of dawn from as far and wide as Jizan in the South and Turayf in the North to bid farewell to their beloved leader.
The sight of hundreds of thousands of people having made the journey from all four corners of the Kingdom braving raging temperatures was the greatest testimony to what an impact this individual had made upon his loyal subjects. Many of the international journalists commented on how spontaneous and sincere the feelings of the assembled masses were in comparison to what they had observed under similar circumstances in other Arab countries. Unlike busloads of mourners who were drafted in especially for the purpose of maintaining a somber facade, those present came of their own accord or stayed away due to their own volition. Citizens had gathered here because they wanted to, not because they were expected to, nor because they were forced to. Men and women were genuine in their grief, not staged. There was no palpable difference in the way things ran. Most shops were closed because of the owners’ decision to respect the king’s passing, the few that were open were allowed to trade freely. Many establishments engaged in a self-imposed state of remembrance refusing to sell or play music and instead marking the occasion with the recitation of the Holy Qur’an. There was no sense of compulsion on the part of the nation to feign an emotion that they did not experience or wholly administer to. Kingdomwide there was a pervasive sense of loss accompanied by the determination to go on.
The ceremony of pledging allegiance to the new king was similarly an occasion that reflected irrefutable popular support for the royal family. Once again thousands of individuals lined up to welcome King Abdullah and proffered their commitment to him. Their love and respect for their sovereign was entirely in evidence. They were as exuberant in their tribute of him as they were of his predecessor. This demonstration of solidarity by all levels of society could be perceived as a form of crude referendum where in the absence of ballot slips and voting boxes, the attendance of the people themselves in order to pay tribute to King Abdullah was a sign implicit of acceptance of the system of governance he represents.
So many outsiders are under the misconception that our society operates widely on a level of fear or coercion. I think that these entwined events should prove otherwise. The passing of an era and the advent of a new one is symbolic not of upheaval but of renewal. The seamless transition of leadership represents an ongoing endeavor to face the challenges that lie ahead in a country that embodies both change and tradition in equal measure.
I don’t subscribe to the view that we have to constantly justify ourselves at every step of the way to an audience that is too jaded to listen. If those same people are unwilling to examine the root causes of the current global situation and remedy those, then we are wasting our time dealing with the recurrent symptoms of a malaise that we did not introduce to the corporal world in the first place.
I have full faith in this leadership as I am a firm believer in the fact that a benevolent monarchy can be just as effective, if not superior, to a superimposed democracy. We have within our own current political system based on the Shariah an incorporation of democratic principles. I see in the new king a man of vision, integrity and equanimity. A leader who has the capacity to take us forward through his commitment to the reform process, overhaul of the education system and dedication to greater economic progress. It is essential for us to take this opportunity to put aside any differences we may have and unite behind him. As a society we would do well to remember that those that dwell mainly on the present and the past often miss the future.
(Lubna Hussain is a Saudi writer. She is based in Riyadh.)