Majlis — Saudi Safety valve

Press, 1 June 1985, Page 5

Majlis — Saudi Safety valve

NZPA-APRiyadh, Saudi Arabia Prince Sultan of Saudi Arabia sits in a large palace, tries to find answers to questions put by complainers, and sounds out public opinion among an estimated 400 and city dwellers. The men hand the Prince written petitions, air their grievances, then sit back murmuring praise for his generosity and sense of justice. Others recite poems. Prince Sultan, the country’s Minister of Defence and Aviation, is the third most important man in the kingdom, after King Fahd and Crown Prince Abdullah. King Fahd holds similar sessions with commoners every Monday, Prince Abdullah every Tuesday, and other Princes almost daily. The same practice is observed throughout the kingdom’s 18 provinces by governors and tribal chiefs. The session, known as Majlis, has its roots in desert tribal traditions and survives in modern times, with marble palaces replacing goatskin tents and Cadillacs and Rolls-Royces taking the place of camels. The Majlis will continue to be a parliament of sorts until the king makes good on his promise to give Saudi Arabia a parliament. The Majlis is reminiscent of informal gatherings of the desert tribes, where people never vote.

The head of the Majlis has “always been the undisputed arbiter, law-giver and benefactor. The 21-nation Arab League, created in 1945, is generally viewed as a broader variation of the Majlis and a permanent feature of Arab political life. Arab League conferences, like the Majlises, have been characterised with endless deliberations, often reaching no decisions. To Saudi traditionalists, democracy is a concept of a divinely-guided, enlightened and benevolent leader, under either the Islamic title of caliph or the temporal one of king or emir. “We do not vote or have political parties,” said Kamel Musaihel, a merchant in the Red Sea port city of Jidda. “But we can at anytime go to the king or any of the princes and express our opinion freely.” At two such Majlises at the palaces of Prince Sultan and Prince Abdullah, men in gilt-bordered cloaks and Bedouins in shabby robes and torn sandals walked in undeterred for coffee and dinner. King Fahd recently asked, his subjects in a national radio and television address to attend his Majlis and ask whatever sensitive questions they might have about the fiscal budget. One Bedouin man stood before Prince Sultan, grum-

bling about his only son, now in the service, of being transferred from Riyadh to the northern desert region of Tabuk.

“But your son is a soldier and his country has a right on him,” said Prince Sultan with a smile.

“No,-1 am his father and my rights on my son are above the country’s rights on him,” the man answered. The Prince smiled, signed a slip of paper, indicating the Bedouin’s request had been granted. Then a disabled man in his early 80s approached Prince Sultan and said, “I need one of those special cars you have been giving to people like me.” Prince Sultan patted his shoulder and promised he would be delivered a specially equipped car for the disabled. Other visitors asked for apartments, jobs, and even for financial aid to be able to afford additional wives. Under Islamic law a man can legally have up to four wives. A reporter asked Prince Sultan if it was wise to let people into the palace without searching them, reminding the prince that King Faisal was killed by a man who had entered the royal palace with a pistol concealed in his pocket. “We don’t search anyone,” Sultan replied. “To us, life or death are acts of Allah. We don’t fear death, and all these men here are my

protectors Saudi citizens regard a marble-covered Arabesque structure building in Riyadh as a symbol of the king’s bid to initiate a phased process toward a Western-style democracy. . The ornate building is to house Majlis al-Shura, or consultative assembly, a body of appointed representatives that would, it is hoped, be developed into a fully-fledged parliament through general elections and a written constitution. King Fahd’s quest for liberalisation and the emer-

of a strong middle class account for the revival of the idea of a body of deputies. The oil boom has given rise to a class of businessmen, teachers, bureaucrats, army officers, engineers and others in this land of 10 million, 3.5 million of whom are workers from other countries. While the younger generation and middle-class people of Western-educated men and women seem to favour the idea of a constituent assembly, traditionalists are known to discourage it.