Since then, wealthy Saudi individuals have funded Al-Qaeda, terrorists fighting the Americans in Iraq, and the Taliban in Afghanistan. Of course, most of the September 11 attackers in New York were Saudis.”
Vasilyev shrugged. “The Iranian list is at least as long. Funds and weapons to Hezbollah in Lebanon, the Houthis in Yemen, Hamas in the Gaza Strip and yes, terrorists fighting the Americans in Iraq. Iran’s attack on the Israeli Cultural Center in Buenos Aires in 1986 killed one hundred fifty people. But this brings us to one key difference between the two. Some Saudi support for terrorists comes from its government, but most of it comes from the Saudi elite. Every terrorist action traced to Iran was directed by its government.”
Grishkov frowned. “Does that make it better or worse?”
Vasilyev smiled. “I would say, more dangerous. Governments have access to greater resources than even the wealthiest individuals, particularly petrostates like Iran. There is evidence the Saudis have begun to rein in some of their wealthy princes, and are consolidating more power in its government.”
Grishkov nodded. “Like a few years ago, when some of them were involuntary guests at the Riyadh Ritz Carlton.”
Vasilyev laughed. “Just so. But meanwhile, Iran has been developing nuclear weapons and providing Yemeni rebels with ballistic missiles, which have been landing on Saudi cities. No missiles are landing on Tehran. Also, the Iranian government has repeatedly and publicly promised to destroy Israel. We know the Iranians have nuclear weapons, and so do the Israelis.
Where would a nuclear war between them end?”
Grishkov nodded. “Very well. Particularly since Iran plans to start a sneak attack with nuclear weapons, I agree it makes sense to support the Saudis.
Now, since you’ve shared so many terrible memories, let’s have something funny.”
Vasilyev arched one eyebrow. “Funny?” he said, and paused. “Very well, I do recall visiting one Russian in a Saudi prison soon after his arrest who I noticed immediately smelled strongly of alcohol, but did not appear to be intoxicated. When I asked him why he had been arrested, he was quite embarrassed and explained he had gone a bit overboard with a traditional expatriate recipe. It consisted of fruit juice, sugar, and fruit cut into small pieces, which would then be placed into a container and left to ferment to produce alcohol. Illegal, of course, but as long as it was produced and consumed at home unlikely to come to the attention of the authorities.”
Grishkov nodded, clearly puzzled.
Vasilyev smiled. “Well, our friend was a bit too ambitious. He bought a plastic one hundred liter trash can and filled it with the recipe I mentioned.
Oh, and it had metal clamps on either side of the lid. Which he engaged. The fact that fermentation was complete was announced by an explosion at 2AM which resulted in calls from all his neighbors to police, who genuinely believed there had been a terrorist attack. When they arrived, his guilt was undeniable. Not only did the apartment and our unhappy compatriot reek of alcohol, bits of chopped fruit were splattered on nearly every surface. I think it’s unlikely he received a refund of his cleaning deposit.”
Grishkov laughed. “What happened to him?”
Vasilyev shrugged. “He got off pretty lightly, mostly because we took an interest in his case. I remember the Ambassador saying no Russian should lose a body part just because he wanted a drink. So, he forfeited his salary, paid a fine on top of that, and after a few months in jail was deported back to Russia.”
Grishkov nodded. ”OK, not bad. Now, here’s a challenge. Tell me something funny about Saudi Arabia in ten words or less.”
Vasilyev grinned. “I can do it in three, and I actually have one more funny story after that.”
Grishkov made a “come on” gesture with his hands.
Vasilyev, still grinning, said, “They import sand.”
Grishkov’s answering expression provoked a gale of laughter from Vasilyev that Grishkov was finally forced to join.
Rubbing tears from his eyes, Grishkov said, “OK, that was funny, but now you’re going to have to explain how that could possibly be true,” pointing down. They had reached the Saudi coast, and indeed there was nothing visible but sand in every direction except the Gulf.
Vasilyev nodded. “On my first trip here I was told this, and refused to believe it. A friend of mine took me to an office building, and we walked outside to its back. Then, he told me to press my fingers against its surface.
Nothing happened. He shook his head, and told me to press harder. To my astonishment, my fingers began to sink into the building! It seems that cement requires sand coarser than what is to be found in the Kingdom’s deserts. Decades ago contractors could get away with this, but the government had put a stop to the use of substandard construction materials by the time I arrived. After all, inspections to detect the practice were not difficult!”
Grishkov smiled, and shook his head. "And your second story?"
"Well," Vasilyev said, "I had read an official report about Saudi steel production and been surprised at the numbers. You see, world trade in steel is governed by many agreements, and the Saudis only need so much steel for themselves. I wondered, where does it all go? So, I visited a steel factory to talk to its manager. I'd noticed when I drove in that there were piles of rusting steel lying outside the factory, so I started by asking about those.
The manager explained that they were no problem, because once the piles of steel rusted it was easy to run them through the plant again, and cheap to do since the natural gas they were using for fuel would have been flared off if they weren't using it. He was puzzled when I asked whether such 'recycling' was counted as new production. Of course it was, he said."
Grishkov laughed and shook his head. "But we Russians can hardly be too critical of such tales. I have certainly heard many over the years."
Vasilyev smiled and nodded, and said, "I must tell you my favorite. Just after the USSR's collapse, there was a big push to convert military to civilian production. So, a factory that had produced military jet fighters was now to make milking machines. Old equipment was removed, new machinery installed, and in less than a year they were turning out milking machines."
Vasilyev paused and smiled, then continued, "There was just one problem.
A government ministry in Moscow still controlled allocation of all metals used in industry, and had not yet changed the ones used by this factory when production began. So, aerodynamics aside, the factory was producing milking machines with metals capable of standing up to the stresses of supersonic flight."
Grishkov frowned, and asked, "How long before the mistake was fixed?"
Vasilyev looked grim and replied, "Not before a German businessman bought the entire first years' production of milking machines, had them exported to Germany and melted them down for the titanium, vanadium and other rare metals they contained. He cleared a profit of triple what he spent to buy and melt down the machines. On the bright side, control of metal allocations was removed from the ministry."
Grishkov shook his head. “So, you are depressing me, and we have wandered too far off topic. Where is the Kingdom headed? Forward, or back?”
Vasilyev shrugged. “Forward, but slowly. Abolishing the religious police a few years ago was a positive step, as was allowing women to drive as long as their nearest male relative gave permission. The government has recognized for some time that the economy needs more female workers if they are to reduce the Kingdom’s reliance on foreign workers who are becoming more difficult to afford. They have begun to develop solar power, an area where the Kingdom should be a world leader, as it is already in desalination. They have investments worth billions in America, Europe and Asia. In short, the Kingdom has much going for it.”