Until now Saudi Arabia has been an oasis of calm in a region in turmoil, but without significant reforms that may not last
It is difficult to overstate the turmoil sweeping today through the Middle East. The historic Muslim Sunni and Shia faultline, blithely reopened by the US invasion of Iraq, runs today from the Mediterranean to the Arabian Sea. Half a dozen conflicts rage in this area. No state nor border is immune from violent change. And yet, Saudi Arabia which bestrides the path of this faultline, appears an oasis of calm. Peace reigning in the House of Saud may well be illusory.
The kingdom has taken out insurance polices. Saudi Arabia has set a record state budget– $219bn to spend on welfare and infrastructure – twice the size of the original bailout offered to Greece. King Abdullah, who will be 90 this year, has just appointed his son, Prince Miteb, as head of a newly created National Guard ministry, one of a series of measures designed to pave the path of the succession. But the Saudi gerontocracy would be foolish to think the worst has been averted.
The warning signs are there for all to see. When two prominent human rights activists were given sentences in March which were harsh even by the kingdom's draconian standards – 10 years for charges which included sedition and giving inaccurate information to the media – the regime was denounced by the most popular cleric in the country. Salman al-Odah's "open letter" broke all taboos as his calls for reform were squarely directed at the royal family itself. "There is smoke and dust on the horizon. We are justified in worrying about what lies beyond. If the security agencies tighten their grip, it will only worsen the quagmire we are in and cut off all hope of reform," the cleric wrote. Odah's words, and such a public act of defiance, electrified the social media in the country, spreading far beyond his own 2.8m Twitter followers.
That letter marked the entry of an important constituency into the reform debate. No longer would it be dominated by beleaguered liberals and the suppressed Shia minority in the eastern provinces. Odah's all-too-public plea came from the Sunni Wahhabi heartland itself. The Saud-Wahhabi alliance remains the cornerstone of the regime's stability. Odah's letter meant the demand for reform is now entrenched across the sectarian divide.
The House of Saud is far from united itself. The line of succession which passed along the 20 surviving sons of King Abdul-Aziz al-Saud, five of whom became king, is rapidly running out of road, as ageing heirs drop off their gilded perch before they can inherit the crown. The next in line, Crown Prince Salman, 77 this year, stood in for King Abdullah at the last meeting of the Gulf Co-operation Council, but his contribution was limited. He is thought to be suffering from dementia. But this is unlikely to mean that the throne passes to the youngest of Abdul Aziz's sons, Prince Muqrin, as the succession is adjudicated on other opaque grounds by a body known as the Allegiance Council. Two of Muqrin's nephews, of whom Miteb is one, and Muhammed bin Nayef, the current interior minister, is another, are set to fight for the prize. No palace intrigue is complete without a power behind the throne, an uncrowned prince, a Cardinal Richelieu. That role is played by Khalid al-Tuwaijri, who, as president of the royal court and private secretary of the custodian of the two holy mosques, is the king's gatekeeper. He brought Prince Bandar back after a long period of absence to become the powerful chief of the Saudi General Intelligence. The Tuwaijri-Bandar axis has been key, along with United Arab Emirates' Crown Prince Mohammed bin Zayed al-Nahyan, in organising against the Muslim Brotherhood-led governments in the region.
This axis, however, is now facing opposition from other members of the Saudi royal family. Mohammed bin Nayef might emerge as an important counterweight. It is essential that the voice of reform is heeded in the transition that is about to take place. There is still an opportunity to change peacefully. Ignore it, and what happened elsewhere could well happen here too.