Welcome to Riyadh-Sur-Mer
When the 79-year old Saudi monarch, King Salman bin Abdulaziz, picked the French Riviera as his summer vacation spot this year, he probably had in mind a few quiet, secluded weeks in his
sprawling mansion overlooking the Mediterranean.
Overlooking, however, was the problem. Tucked on a long, narrow strip of land between the
railroad and the sea, the Château de l’Aurore, better known locally as King Fahd’s Villa, towers
over the water, which laps its foundation six meters below. This is where Rita Hayworth married
Prince Aly Khan in 1949, well before King Fahd bought the estate in 1979.
At the end of the estate, there is a tiny sand beach, but no private access to it. The only way to
reach La Mirandole, as the beach is called, is to negotiate a spiral staircase off the road, then to walk through a small tunnel under the railway. Hardly a promenade fit for a king.
So on July 10, two workers emerged at La Mirandole to pour a large concrete slab on the beach. Grilled by the locals, the workers disclosed plans for an elevator, so that the king could access
the beach directly from his villa. The next day they drilled holes in the walls of the tunnel to close
it off with a gate.
Then all hell broke loose. Swimmers, sunbathers, fishermen and nudists who enjoy an even
smaller beach close by rose up in arms against monarchical privilege. Somehow, the Saudi king’s courtiers had forgotten how the French had disposed of their own royal family more than two
centuries ago.
The mayor of Vallauris, Michelle Salucki, requested the intervention of the sous-préfet of Grasse, the local representative of the French government. Like all beaches in France, La Mirandole is a
public beach; in clear violation of the law, it was being commandeered for private use. So the
sous-préfet, Philippe Castanet, dutifully ordered a halt to the construction work.
This is how La Mirandole became an “affaire d’état.” While in Vienna negotiators were closing in
on a historic deal on Iran’s nuclear program, in Vallauris crucial talks were under way to save
French-Saudi relations. And as in Vienna, geopolitics were key. France is, after all, Saudi Arabia’s new best friend.
Ever since President Barack Obama bitterly disappointed America’s Saudi ally on a dramatic
August weekend two years ago by refusing to attack Syria, Paris and Riyadh have enjoyed a
honeymoon of sorts. President François Hollande had also felt let down by Washington: He had
been advocating a hard line on Syria, convinced that powerful new evidence of the use of
chemical weapons by the regime of Bashar al-Assad justified an allied military intervention. Prime Minister David Cameron had to bow out after failing to get his Parliament’s approval, and Germany had no interest in joining a military operation. Only French military jets were ready to take off. But
then President Obama, in a spectacular U-turn, chose to forget his warning to Damascus that the “red line” of chemical weapons was not to be crossed. Military action was put on hold.
Now the Saudis have a fresh reason to give the cold shoulder to America. For years they have
been alarmed by the prospect of a multilateral nuclear agreement with Iran, the great Shiite rival of Sunni Saudi Arabia. It did not go unnoticed in Riyadh that in those negotiations France always
displayed a firmer approach toward Iran than did the United States.
As a Saudi minister once told me, after I pointed out how surprised I was to hear disparaging
comments about the United States coming from such a staunch American ally: “It is not because we are in bed together that we have to enjoy it.” So every time the Saudis don’t find their
relationship with Washington so “enjoyable,” they warm up to the French.
And why should France reject them? There is a pro-Saudi tradition in French foreign policy, dating back to President François Mitterrand. Nicolas Sarkozy broke ranks to court Qatar, but Mr.
Hollande has picked up the mantle of “François of Arabia.” As president, he has already visited
the kingdom four times. On May 4 he became the first Western head of state to be invited to a
summit of the Gulf countries in Riyadh. Ten days later, half of the same Gulf leaders, including the Saudi king, failed to attend a meeting in Camp David set up by Mr. Obama to try to mend fences.
For France, the benefits of such a honeymoon are more than diplomatic: Commercial contracts
have been pouring in. Airbus helicopters, Airbus airliners, infrastructure equipment, even a
feasibility study into building nuclear reactors: It all looks pretty promising.
The defenders of the French Republic in Vallauris appear to have reached the same conclusion. After all, the prospect of a royal entourage of 700 big-spending Saudis coming along for a few weeks cannot do the local economy any harm. The compromise, artfully negotiated, leaves “for
security reasons” the use of the beach to King Salman for the duration of his stay: “We are
talking about the leader of a country at war, and an allied country,” the sous-préfet argued, thus
reminding the French that their country is also at war. But after the royal visit, La Mirandole will
have to be returned to the regular beachgoers in its original condition, absent elevator and
concrete slab.
Still indignant, an ecologist local councilor, Jean-Noël Falcou, proclaimed, “Everything is not for
sale,” adding, “A public beach is an inalienable public property, like the ‘Mona Lisa.”’ A petition to President Hollande he launched on change.org gathered more than 140,000 signatures in two
weeks. But by the time King Salman arrived on July 25, protests had mostly died down. “Paris is
well worth a mass,” Henry of Navarre was reputed to have said in 1593, after converting to
Catholicism in order to become Henry IV, King of France. Well, then Riyadh-sur-Mer is well worth a beach.
-Sylvie Kauffmann