Thursday, December 12, 2024

Shingles in Shangri-La

 

 

After moving from place to place and country to country for twenty years, I really haven't much to show for: a pile of old passports full of colourful stamps and visas, a few photos from a time before selfie sticks, and this charming little volume of "Lost Horizon" by James Hilton.

My first stay at a Shangri-La hotel was in Singapore in 1975, a mere four years after it had first opened its doors. There, and in subsequent stays in the Shangri-La in Hong Kong and Paris, I was always greeted by the same book on the bedside table, with its flyleaf inscribed by the concierge:

 

"This captivating story you are about to read was written in 1933 by an English novelist who wrote of an idyllic settlement high in the mountains of Tibet.

Today, even amongst those who have never heard of Lost Horizon, the words 'Shangri-La' stand as a synonym for paradise.

In 1971, a deluxe hotel was founded in the thriving city of Singapore in Southeast Asia. In choosing the name Shangri-La, there was a desire to set a standard, to create an identity that would eventually produce a group of hotels unique in the world.

As the group expanded, it has sought to retain all the ideals of its mythical namesake. Serenity, harmony and natural beauty, all characteristics of the Shangri-La group. This enchanting book will give you a glimpse of this world. A world once imagined, a dream that has become a reality.

We hope you enjoy it."

 

A cut above the usual Gideon Bible which you find in more down-market hostelries, don't you think? The shingles pains are kicking in again but I hate to take too many paracetamols. Instead, I shall distract my mind by going to bed and listen to this LUX RADIO dramatisation of "Lost Horizon".

 

 

I copied it onto a tiny USB-stick which I can plug into my bedside radio. You can do the same: simply click on ytmp3.la, insert the YouTube URL

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AKAgwTtSLRc&t=361s

click on "Convert", and then copy the mp3 file onto a USB-stick. As the concierge inscribed on the flyleaf all those years ago, "I hope you enjoy it."

 


 

P.S. I even have some of my shirts still wrapped up in Shangri-La laundry bags, and never worn since. How's that for a souvenir from long ago?

 



 

The House of Saud

 

Yours truly in his apartment in Jeddah in Saudi Arabia, reading "The House of Saud"

 

The last time I read "The House of Saud" was in my apartment in Jeddah in the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia. That was in 1983 and so, having long forgotten what I read then, I pulled the book back off the shelf today and started reading it again.

It's a brilliant, well researched, and valuable historical record about the founding of the Kingdom of Saud, [Saudi Arabia], with detailed accounts of its early dealings with the USA, Britain, what now is Turkey, and other Arab nations, and how it grew from a small desert tribe, into a powerful and obscenely wealthy Islamic state. The authors also give readers insight into the Shiite disturbances that began in the 1970s culminating in the seizure of the Grand Mosque, and the bloodshed that followed.

As it says in the book's blurb, "At Riyadh, in 1902 the Desert Raider Ibn Saud [Abdul Aziz] tossed the head of the town governor from a parapet down to his followers below ... thus was the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia founded. Two-thirds of the size of India, it holds a quarter of the world’s oil and has six times more overseas assets than the USA. A land of desert unchanged for centuries, with wealth and power to make the world tremble ... the domain of the House of Saud."

 

Read it online at www.archive.org

 

Originally born of isolated Bedouin tribes of the desert, the House of Saud attaches great importance to the purity of the bloodline. Marriages between first cousins, or equivalent relations, are preferred, or else carefully selected partners of equal status and purity in another tribe ... To quote from the book:

"As Islam permits each man to keep four wives at any one time, and as divorce is made easy for males under Koranic law, so that the magic number of four can be multiplied many times over in one man’s life, this custom begot not only large numbers of children by a single father, but also an immense ramification of family and tribal inter-relationships through several generations. Nephews married aunts, uncles were wedded to nieces and their children married each other to form a close-knit and, to the outsider, impenetrable mesh."

At the time of writing, the authors estimate that with about 500 princes descending from Abdul Aziz, together with wives, daughters and collateral branches of the family, 'the House of Saud cannot number less than 20,000 people.' The number of Abdul Aziz' wives has never been officially computed but official records show that he fathered 45 sons from 22 different women. In addition there were at least as many daughters from an even wider range of women, including no doubt some unacknowledged mothers among the various concubines and slave girls, not to forget 'wives of the night' whom it was customary [and still is] for Arabian men to enjoy whenever the opportunity arose. All they had to do was to 'marry' the woman or girl for as many hours as they desired, then divorce her by saying 'I divorce you'. Today, many women and girls are kidnapped from Yemen, and other surrounding Arab nations, for the purposes of this euphemism for a 'one night stand'.

In Islamic countries, the Koran and its inherent sharia law, or path to follow, supplies a total and explicit moral code but in Saudi Arabia it is even more than that. It remains there, the only recognised and enforceable code of law, so that the country is held in a '1300-year-old corset of town and desert morality that is deemed to be universally and eternally applicable.' This desert morality is upheld and brutally enforced by Wahhabism:

"In the middle of the eighteenth century, in what now must be regarded as the most fateful meeting of minds in Arabia since the time of Muhammad, Sheikh Muhammad bin Saud, ruler of Diriya, and great, great grandson of Mani, the first identifiable Saudi ancestor, gave shelter to an itinerant preacher of Nejd, named Sheikh Muhammad bin Abdul Wahhab. The preacher was a Muslim 'revivalist' and the world of Islam by then was much in need of rejuvenation and reform ... Abdul Wahhab was a true zealot, come to cleanse the 'stinking stables of Arabia' once more with the Word of God. But the Word of God proved insufficient for the task. Like the Prophet, Abdul Wahhab needed a sword as well – and to his eternal joy, he found one in Muhammad bin Saud and his family ... Although Muhammad bin Saud was only one of the numerous quarrelling Nejdi sheikhs at the time, little more important than the rest, he evidently grasped that a man who had a message would give him an edge over all his rivals, enabling him to unite Bedouin and townsfolk in a new jihad to extend his personal dominion ...

... Accordingly, in 1744 Muhammad bin Saud married off his son, Abdul Aziz, to a daughter of the preacher and thus sealed a compact between the two families that has been continued unbroken by their descendants ever since ... Contemporary Saudi Arabia, for all its money and the new corruption and idolatry that wealth has encouraged, remains in theory and to a surprising extent in practice, a Wahhabist state, officially dedicated to the preservation of pure Islam as propounded by Muhammad bin Abdul Wahhab."

The book takes the story of the House of Saud and of Saudi Arabia only up to 1979 and Juhaiman bin Muhammed Utaibi's crazed attempt to seize the shrine at Mecca but it remains relevant.

The authors - one of whom, David Holden, was murdered execution-style in Cairo, Egypt, in 1977, click here - seemed to think that the 'regime' had little chance of long-term survival, yet here we are, forty-five years later, with the House of Saud still an arbiter, if not the arbiter, of much of Middle Eastern politics.

And here I am, forty years later, still amazed at how I survived those lonely years in the world's largest sandbox, and still reading about it.

 


 

ABC iview is showing right now "The Kingdom: The World's Most Powerful Prince" - click here.

 

Monday, December 9, 2024

My first Australian Christmas

 

 

Do you still remember what you received for Christmas in 1965? I do! A pair of what were then quite popular elastic clip-on braces which, in my particular case, had been ingeniously strapped length-wise over a wooden ruler. I did use the ruler for a while but never once wore the braces.

The reason I remember it so well is because I had arrived only some four months earlier and this was my first Christmas in Australia. Even while still in Germany I had already spent half-a-dozen Christmases away from my parents' dysfunctional homes - plural, because they divorced when I was six and I had alternated between them until I left altogether when only 14 - and for me there was nothing sentimental about Christmas, but perhaps my new boss at the bank must've thought so because he instructed one of the married employees to invite me for Christmas dinner at their home.

This particular chap was a rather rotund invidual who cycled to work and sometimes forgot to take off his bicycle clips and always wore a pair of those shirt sleeve garters and, yes, a pair of elastic clip-on braces. Even to me, who took in everything new unreservedly, he seemed to be a figure of fun and the least inspiring person I'd met in those first few months, and I would have politely declined his invitation had my English been up to it.

I don't remember much else except that they were a childless couple, she as skinny as he was fat, and that their house was full with his in-laws, his wife's parents and sisters and brothers, who had come down from Roma in Queensland. Much of what went on passed me by, partly because of my natural shyness and partly because of my lack of English, until I received that pair of elastic clip-on braces, never worn but always remembered.