Vision or Mirage: Saudi Arabia at the Crossroads by David H. Rundell (review)

The Kingdom of Saudi Arabia is at a crossroads, again. And the Western reader longs for insight, background information, and, of course, some "hot" material. This cycle repeats itself every decade, and yet every time, we are surprised and seem to have forgotten the conclusions and lessons from the last episode. Otherwise, there is no other way to explain why we need this book.

Vision or Mirage is not based on actual scholarly research, empirical findings from fieldwork, interviews, and other data collection methods. Instead, this is the author's summary of his experience working and living in Saudi Arabia and the larger Middle East, not as a scholar but as a diplomat. Of course, diplomats can be scholars too. I like to mention and praise the work of Dutch diplomat Marcel Kurpershoek, who passionately and expertly explained the tribal culture and Bedouin poetry from the central region in Saudi Arabia.¹

David Rundell is a United States diplomat with 30 years of experience in Middle Eastern countries, including several tours in Saudi Arabia, where he probably met every important decision-maker of his time. As a diplomat, he also represents his country, its foreign policies, business interests, and geostrategic ambitions. As an author, he writes for an American audience. A global perspective, both for the book and the reader, is strikingly absent. For example, in a student review, the University of Oxford's Ariq Hatibie accurately described the book as "an account of an American ally seen through American eyes."²

To be fair, this represents the writer's background and the book's target group. And the author hits all the necessary benchmarks in his assessment of the Kingdom's development. The book must also be regarded as a great accomplishment in the study of the Kingdom and its new leadership. It does cover a lot of ground in the historical development of the country from a religious, economic, and social angle. Particularly, Rundell's analysis of Saudi society with its traditional and new elites, actors, and stakeholders deserves a closer look because it points to issues that have not been studied carefully; for example, the process of decision-making and the interaction between the various groups and classes in the Kingdom's power hierarchy.

However, after having read the book, I am nonetheless only mildly satisfied. In fact, I am somewhat disappointed by the opportunity the author missed to capitalize on his firsthand observations while in-country. Too frequently in the book, he softens his tone on controversial issues or describes them in his diplomatic ductus; for example, when describing the status changes of women by highlighting the obvious social and judicial reforms but keeping quiet on obvious violations against women activists. The same counts for controversial topics like the war in Yemen or the discrimination against the Shi'i community. Achieving objectivity does not mean avoiding conflicts. It certainly does not mean mounting attacks or flinging accusations. Yet ending by simply asking key questions without delving into them or offering at least a partial answer is of limited value to the reader.

Reading the book from a different angle, as a memoir—a collection of stories by an observer who did spend a lot of time in the Kingdom—has some potential merit. The author walks us through several decades of Saudi history and international relations with Saudi Arabia from his US-centered perspective. Reading Vision or Mirage in this light, it is easier to understand where Rundell is coming from and why he would start his account by asking, why is Saudi Arabia still here? and does Saudi Arabia still matter today?—questions that are certainly not on everybody's priority list. Yet, such questions surely have been, and appear to have remained, central to the generation of authors and readers that Rundell belongs to.³

And so, the author hits all the right keywords in his narrative: the founding father, King 'Abd al...