Abdel Aziz Ben Fahd is not a vulgar – sorry, a simple – Saudi prince, as there are nearly 4,000 of royal blood. He is the grandson of the famous Ibn Saoud, founder of the Wahhabi kingdom and eldest son of the elder roi Fahd. The favorite itself, they whisper in the royal palaces.
Born in 1973, he lived a pampered childhood, surrounded by eight brothers and five sisters. But his peaceful existence changed at the age of 22, when his father suffered a stroke, which left him terribly weak and forced him to delegate many of his prerogatives to his half-brother, Abdallah. For the young man, the case is then folded: he will not be able to become monarch, the power being transmitted first between brothers before passing to the next generation. Never mind: he will still take advantage of his title of son of the sovereign in place, inviting himself into the princely salons where, under facade smiles, the members of the royal family are plotting against each other.
Nothing filters out of these meetings, but the prince’s growing influence is noticeable, especially during official ceremonies. We see him at the forefront during the dances of the sabers, this warlike ritual carried by a cohort of drums. His chubby face appears more and more in the press at the orders of the kingdom. In May 1998, he was appointed Minister of State without Portfolio, then promoted to Head of the Cabinet Office two years later. At just 28 years old, he is present in strategic meetings. Does he enjoy this power all the more because he knows it to be ephemeral? As he rose through the ranks, his father’s health deteriorated. August 1, 2005 is over. King Fahd dies. His brother Abdallah accedes to the throne and withdraws his nephew Abdel Aziz from any official function.
What does a prince do who has long believed himself to be a king? Business. Abdel Aziz Ben Fahd acquires half of the powerful audiovisual group MBC (owner of the news channel Al-Arabiya) and began to organize prestigious camel races to maintain its networks. To build on the family heritage (the origin of which remains imbued with mystery), he invests in real estate with the appetite of a Monopoly player. He embarks on the construction of yet another palace in Riyadh, another in Jeddah, and spends 125 million euros for a house in Kensington Palace Gardens, the London street of billionaires. He also fell in love with a villa in Beverly Hills with a 35-meter swimming pool and life-size cinema room, while taking over entire floors of American skyscrapers, which he then rents to British groups such as the BP oil company or the BAE Systems armaments company.
The world becomes his playground. After having complied with the rigors of royal protocol, he wants to enjoy the pleasures of existence. Since Saudi Arabia does not admit any public deviation from a pious and orderly life, Abdel Aziz goes to relax far from the Gulf, taking with him his legion of courtiers and caring servants. When he arrives in New York for a month’s break, he reserves fifty rooms including the largest suite at the Plaza hotel, 420 m2 with a view of Fifth Avenue and 24-carat gold piping. He organizes parties where reality TV stars take selfies with Victoria’s Secret models. In the midst of this earthy fauna, he greets each other with a jaded look, still a goblet in his hands. What is he drinking? Mystery. There is always an opaque lid on his drinks, as if the prince feared being poisoned or caught red-handed alcoholism. After a fiesta, the New York Post also published an inglorious photo of Abdel Aziz, wearing a faded leather jacket and a teenage shirt, not to mention his German tourist type sandals. And always that gaze lost in space, as if he was aware of the absurdity of this lifestyle.
For years, however, he will strive to lead this existence of unrepentant gambler, as if it were an obligation linked to his rank. Courchevel, Cannes, Ibiza … After Ramadan, he always stays several weeks at the George-V, Parisian property of one of his cousins, Al-Walid Ben Talal. He dines at Fouquet’s, sends his relatives to shop on avenue Montaigne, sometimes prolongs the night in the clubs of the Champs-Élysées. The important thing is to never risk going beyond the golden triangle – you never know – and above all, to avoid scandals. At the hotel, if alcohol is to be ordered, whiskey is served in teapots and wine in Coke bottles. We must preserve appearances. Between two evenings, the prince continues to tweet verses from the Koran to his millions of subscribers.
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