The Missing Chapter in the Biography of Abdullah Al‑Turaiki

By: Muhanna Al‑Hubail
Academic English Translation

The material compiled by my friend Mr. Mohammed Al‑Saif in his book Abdullah Al‑Turaiki: Rocks of Oil and Sands of Politics constitutes one of the most significant intellectual references on the life of Minister Abdullah Al‑Turaiki—may God have mercy on him. Al‑Turaiki was one of the historical figures who transitioned from ideological conviction to executive practice, striving to nationalize the sovereign rights of peoples living in regions dominated by global oil companies, situated between the worlds of the Global South and the Global North. His strategic position as Saudi Arabia’s Minister of Oil placed him at the center of a major challenge to the aggressive political culture of the United States in the region. His ability to translate his intellectual beliefs into concrete action—supported by King Saud, may God have mercy on him—became one of the defining features of Al‑Turaiki’s sharp awareness and distinguished legacy.

It is unfortunate that the research questions and nationalist commitments of Gulf Arab nationalists—particularly Saudis—have stalled within the same stagnant discourse toward Islamic thought, confining themselves to a perpetual struggle with the jurisprudence of the Sahwa movement and its more rigid expressions of religiosity, instead of evolving toward a sound understanding of Islamic thought.
In this context, when mentioning King Saud’s position, it is appropriate to refer to the comments made by the King’s daughters in media statements and writings, noting the lack of appreciation for King Saud’s role and affirming that he supported the orientations of Abdullah Al‑Turaiki and other reformist figures. They also emphasized that King Saud was personally central to supporting constitutional reform initiatives during his reign. This is a perspective that deserves acknowledgment and recognition from the intellectual community in the Kingdom.

Here, we are not attempting to retell Al‑Turaiki’s biography, his intellectual project, or his positions on labor and national rights in the face of the early oil companies in the Eastern Province. Rather, we are examining the view concerning his personal turn toward religious devotion and his embrace of an Islamic worldview at the end of his life—a subject that has been closed without any adequate scholarly inquiry.

Such an inquiry cannot be undertaken without reading Al‑Turaiki’s positions through an Islamic lens—a lens rejected by some of his admirers due to the long‑standing tension between Arab nationalism and Islamic thought, particularly among Saudi nationalists.
Al‑Turaiki’s famous statement to The New York Times is telling:

“We are the sons of the Native Americans who sold Manhattan, and we want to renegotiate the deal.”

As the first Minister of Oil and the head of ARAMCO at a time when American oil companies dominated the central decision‑making process and offered only limited shares to the Saudi partner—the owner of the land and the oil—Al‑Turaiki’s worldview appeared aligned with the Latin American leftist movements that fought to break free from Western corporate and military domination.

This was the expression of a man who fully understood the rules of the game—a game played in a highly sensitive arena shaped by American expansionist ambitions in oil‑producing regions. Al‑Turaiki persisted in this struggle, working to secure the greatest possible degree of independence for the national oil producer. He embodied the spirit of the desert Arabs who recognized the tragedy of the Native Americans and sought to rewrite the rules.
The son of Al‑Zulfi went on to join Latin American leaders in their challenge to reclaim oil for the peoples who owned it, through the establishment of OPEC—an arrangement that offered the Western operator a more‑than‑reasonable partnership, though the Western side preferred the “cacao island” model: an island under its control, with its inhabitants reduced to laborers receiving only crumbs of its fruit.

Al‑Turaiki’s journey ended, yet it remains one of the enduring models of national consciousness and global struggle between North and South. Without doubt, he represented an Islamic intellectual stance on multiple fronts: asserting the independence of Muslim nations’ resources, aligning with oppressed peoples, and confronting decades of exploitation imposed on these countries and their populations—policies that lie at the heart of Islamic principles of economic and social justice.

After leaving office and concluding his long struggle to secure the rights of peoples and workers in the oil sector, Al‑Turaiki entered new intellectual phases, including his residence in Kuwait and his role in founding the Center for Arab Unity Studies.
Mr. Al‑Saif notes a turning point in Al‑Turaiki’s life:

In the mid‑1980s, Al‑Turaiki devoted himself to religious practice, growing his beard and adhering closely to the mosque. In 1991, he moved to Cairo with his wife and daughter Haya, spending six years there caring for his family.

From the mid‑1980s until his passing in 1997, as his health declined, it became clear that Al‑Turaiki’s religiosity reflected an opening toward a spiritual world—not merely a return to his roots, but a new conviction that harmonized Islamic thought with principles he already believed in, even legitimized. It was a conscious departure from the spiritual barrenness that had long dominated the lives of Arab nationalists.

The opinion cited by Mr. Al‑Saif from an Arab researcher—that Al‑Turaiki’s religiosity stemmed from depression or despair—has no evidence in Al‑Turaiki’s own words or in any testimony. It is an affront to the dignity of the man and his personal history, rooted in the Arab nationalists’ persistent refusal to acknowledge the role of religious conscience or to reconcile with Islamic thought.

It is regrettable that the research questions and nationalist commitments of Gulf Arab nationalists—especially Saudis—remain trapped in the same lifeless discourse toward Islamic thought, or confined to a struggle with the Sahwa movement and its more rigid expressions of religiosity, instead of evolving toward a sound understanding of Islamic thought.
The transformation Al‑Turaiki embraced should not be dismissed. It was not a renunciation of his long struggle, but rather the culmination of noble principles, tied to the identity of the “great path”: the struggle to serve the oppressed with the conviction of believers.
If only our nationalist colleagues would acknowledge this profound balance.