Al Qahtani exile

 

Saoud Al-Qahtani was raging. He was watching live the fall of the Saud regime, the hasty departure of his friend the king and his family. The Saudi population was in the streets. The flags of Daech were waved everywhere. The fighting had begun, the first corpses were lying on the ground. We were witnessing the establishment of a new Islamic state in Arabia, echoing those already established in the Maghreb and the Sahel. 

"Fucking Jews, they put it in our ass!" Saoud Al-Qahtani was watching television with his family. It was over. He would never be able to see his country of birth again.

The election of Trump had temporarily saved the regime of Mohammed bin Salmane Al Saud, MBS, but the American deep state supported the greater Israel project. Saudi Arabia had to fall. The Russians had prevented the fall of the Syrian regime once, but the situation had deteriorated again. The Salafists took power in Riyadh, and all those who had collaborated with the Saudis would be massacred.

The "civil" war that had pitted the Houthi Zaydists, based in northwestern Yemen, against the central government forces since the early 2000s had swept away the Saudi neighbor.

The Houthis, despite their religious differences, had received arms from Iran and constant support from Hezbollah. Blinded by ancestral hatreds, the Saudis had thought to counter the Shiite enemy, but they had fallen into the trap.  The Saudis' failure had encouraged the Crown Prince of Abu Dhabi, Mohammed bin Zayed Al Nahyane, the strongman of the United Arab Emirates, to support the separatism of the members of the Southern Transitional Council. They would not take it to heaven. They would not last long before falling to the Salafists.

Private mercenaries, mostly infidels, had been employed to make up for the Saudi military's failure on the Yemeni field. The Saudi army was a small-scale army, more ready to parade than to fight.

Arab opinion was humiliated. Only MBS would not admit it. Saud Al-Qahtani had tried to warn the prince, his friend, of the trap, but he had been dismissed. All those asshole princes were flattering the king. The Americans and the Israelis were manipulating him. Saud Al-Qahtani had to leave.

The Houthis had reconstituted their mutawakkilite kingdom, with the support of Tehran and their neighbor Oman. Yemen and Oman had been part of the Persian Empire. Nothing could be done against history. Mohammed bin Salmane Al Saud had fought to the end. Al-Qahtani could testify to that. Together, they had cleaned up, eliminating agents of the Muslim Brotherhood, such as that bastard Jamal Khashoggi, and neutralizing traitors, such as that bastard Turki bin Abdullah, the son of King Abdullah, the former Minister of Economy Adel al-Fakih, or Bakr Bin Ladin, Osama's brother.

Mohammed bin Salmane Al Saud was the right king for the kingdom. He was sharp, courageous and had reacted with intransigence. But he came too late, after decades of corruption and intrigue among all the heirs of Ibn Saud.

While Saud Al-Qahtani was attacking political opponents on the internet, executing feminist activists, intellectuals and journalists, Salafism was taking hold in every house in the Kingdom.

The Saudi street had built up decades of frustration with the Sauds' insolent wealth. Yet the Sauds had spent billions over decades to pay for scholarships, provide front jobs and buy social peace. The Saudis were just lazy bums living beyond their means. The fall in oil prices, and the work of the US-Israeli services in establishing Al Qaeda and Daech had hastened the end of the Sauds.

The wealthy Saudi princes were now in exile around the world. Saud Al-Qahtani was living in Finland, fortunately. He had little chance to meet these fine people, these fat pigs used to live in palaces. He had brought his sister and several cousins, feeling the wind change. His parents had died without being worried. Mohammed ben Salmane Al Saoud had protected them, God bless him. They had not known all this.

Saoud Al-Qahtani and his family all lived discreetly in Tornio, on the Swedish border. They would continue to live in hiding, far from the happy Arabia they had known.