SOMETIMES it is hard to choose a subject for a weekly article. Issues and events may become many, hot and equally important. While doing my research and collecting my thoughts about the UN “human ceasefire" in Yemen, for the exclusive benefit of the Houthis, a sudden and sad story made the headlines. The “Dean of World Foreign Affairs,” Prince Saud Al Faisal died Friday, July 10, 2015, during a health-related visit to US. The news made shockwaves, saddening those who loved and admired the man for his long, rich and productive service. His loyalty to his ummah and country earned him the loyalty of Muslims, Arabs and Saudis. And his colorful and deep experience and professionalism made him a unique reference for politicians, academics, journalists and observers of foreign policy, all over the world. “We needed him!” I heard this from a Saudi and an Iraqi who felt Prince Saud's cool head, smart mind and vast experience would have proved very valuable assets for us today. I agree. Our world is changing quickly around us, and not always for the best. Fires need firemen, problems need solvers, and complicated issues need smart analyzers. Saud Al Faisal was all that and more. In his 40 years reign as foreign minister, he was in the control room of the Organization of Islamic Cooperation (OIC), the Arab League, the Gulf Cooperation Council (GCC), and the regional powerhouse, Saudi Arabia. Serving five kings, starting with his father, King Faisal Bin Abdulaziz, as state minister for foreign affairs in 1975, then as foreign minister under the leadership of King Khaled Bin Abdulaziz (1975-1982) and his brothers: King Fahad, 1982-2005, King Abdullah, 2005-2015, and the current King Salman 2015. In March, this year, Prince Saud resigned and was appointed as the King's foreign relations counselor. (My article “Saud Al-Faisal: The world dean of foreign policy.” Saudi Gazette, March 10, 2015) A famous Arab poem says, “When the spirits are too great, the physiques suffer.” Saud Al Faisal's body paid a hefty price for the greatness of his mind. He carried too many heavy weights on his weak, overwhelmed backbone. One surgery after another on his neck and spine couldn't fix his problems. Prince Saud was in constant pain for at least 20 years. Sometimes he would be sitting in a conference when pain would wrack him. He wouldn't let it show and continued his negotiations and active contribution like nothing mattered. The real problem would start after the conclusion of the meeting — when everyone stood up and left; when he couldn't stand and walk; when his pain (and pride) kept him sitting (and working) on his chair for hours. Under such pressure and pain, you would expect him to give in and quit. You would, at least, expect him, to do less, travel less and stay less in his office. But he wouldn't hear of it. His daily schedule was always full, his appointments precise, and his participation in conferences, crisis cells, task committees and regular meetings unaffected by the storms of pain he suffered (and challenged) all alone. After his resignation, as foreign minister, in the dawn of 2015, for health reasons, he was supposed to adhere to his rehabilitation program, in Paris. Again he couldn't and wouldn't. Always the diehard soldier ready to fight to the last drop of his blood and breath, he kept reading, researching, meeting and consulting — less movement, but more thinking and concentration. Saud Al Faisal wouldn't think of taking rest while his leadership was not resting, enjoy the peace and quiet while his region was on fire, sleeping well, while his country was fully awake and aware of the dangers and enemies surrounding it. The son of Faisal couldn't rest in peace when his people were not, until he ran his full course, and his Creator gave him the ultimate rest in peace. Like his father, he died working. Like the noble knight he was, he died on his saddle. And like the good Muslim he lived, he never, ever complained. His only regret was that in his long career, our ummah couldn't liberate Jerusalem. “Arab leaders have failed their people, we couldn't fulfill their ultimate dream,” he said once. It must have broken his heart to leave the scene without achieving the wish of his father, King Faisal, to pray in Al-Aqsa Mosque, in liberated Palestine. Once, he jokingly described the state of the Arab world, saying it was just like his health. It might be a has been. However, that was the case with his body. As for his spirit, it was as high, as great and as beautiful as the Muslim ummah once was. Farewell and salam Saud Al Faisal. Like your father and grandfather, you lived and fought well and long, for Islam, Arabs and your country. We will always remember that … and pray for you. — Dr. Khaled M. Batarfi is a Saudi writer based in Jeddah. He can be reached at [email protected]. Follow him at Twitter:@kbatarfi
