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How the Saudis Run America

By Debbie Schlussel

5/6/2002

The Crown Prince doesn’t want women in air traffic control towers when he flies into Texas. And, voila! Despite federal laws against gender-based discrimination, the Prince’s wish is granted.

The Crown Prince threatens President Bush—on his home turf—that if the U.S. doesn’t change its policy toward Israel, the U.S. will suffer greatly. Rather than take this threat seriously, and kick out this royal ingrate—whose country still exists today by virtue of our boys fighting their Gulf War--the Saudi Prince’s wish is granted. Voila! Suddenly, Israel—under pressure from President Bush—agrees to let homicide-bombing-commander-in-chief Yasser Arafat roam the universe.

Is this America?

Not the America I know.

The America I know wouldn’t let some bloated, kefiyeh-garbed, unelected foreigner dictate what we do in our country. It’s a matter of sovereignty. And it’s a matter of decency--given the Prince’s and his terrorist-host nation’s behavior, this weekend and since Saudi Arabia’s existence.

But America did that over the weekend.

The National Air Traffic Controllers Association confirmed that Abdullah requested no women work as air traffic controllers for his flights. But that’s not the outrage. The outrage is that we complied—that our FAA rolled over and did as he asked, then lied about it. Finally, a potential class-action gender-discrimination lawsuit against the government that would certainly be meritorious.

Are the Saudi’s running our country? Remember where this happened.

Not in Abdullah’s country. In ours. Not in Prince Abdullah’s country—the Arabia of monarchical barbarism via the house of Saud. In our country—the one of the Fourteenth Amendment, and equal protection of the laws and due process of law.

If that were not enough, according to Friday’s New York Times, Abdullah told Bush that “the United States must temper its support for Israel or face grave consequences.”

Grave consequences? Just what does this mean? That’s a rhetorical question. It’s quite obvious what the Prince means. He’s threatening America. On American soil. In our own President’s house. Talk about chutzpah.

But instead of doing the right thing—and like a true Texan, telling this rattlesnake where to go—President Bush gave in to him, forcing Israel to give Abdullah’s friend Arafat the freedom we’d never give Abdullah’s friend Bin Laden. Talk about wimpishness.

It’s because of such unearned U.S. obedience to them, that the Saudis—home to 15 of 19 of September 11th hijackers (more than 75%)—are not ashamed. Instead, they are emboldened. Their recent propaganda ad campaign—fortunately, rejected by most cable networks--actually has the gall to claim, “The People of Saudi Arabia—Allies Against Terrorism.” (It’s a thirty-second ad, because one can only fertilize for so long.)

Is there another “People of Saudi Arabia”? Because the Saudi Arabia located in the Middle East held a telethon raising millions for terrorist homicide bombers. The Saudi Arabia I know, during that telethon, proclaimed that Jewish women will be their slaves. As a Jewish woman, that’s enough to make me sick that my President is meeting with their crown Prince.

Prince Abdullah, I’ve got a message for you: My President may kowtow to you. He may act like your slave. But I will never be. We, in the United States, have a state called New Hampshire. It’s license plates say, “Live Free or Die.” That’s my motto. Got that, Prince? The very few Jews left in your country, under Saudi law akin to Nazi law, can’t own weapons and are treated like dung. But in this country, we have a Second Amendment and an NRA to protect it, so I can protect myself from terrorist-vermin whom Your Royal Lowness funds.

Despite the Saudi propaganda machine in action. Here’s the real story. Saudi Arabia is one of the biggest sponsors of terrorism on the planet. And their gall on our own soil spans beyond Abdullah’s Excellent Adventures. There’s his niece Princess Bunieh a/k/a “Bonnie,” who last year kept a Filipino slave, beat her, and threw her down the stairway, in Orlando.

That’s the real thirty-second Saudi commercial. “Hey Saudi Princess Bonnie, you’ve just tortured and given your slave a concussion, what are you going to do next?” “I’m going to Disneyworld.”

The Saudi gall on our soil goes beyond Abdullah and “Bonnie.” It goes to financing terrorist operations here. Recent raids by federal agents on prominent Saudi-funded Muslim institutions suspected of funding terrorists and Islamic Jihad Chief/University of South Florida professor Sami Al-Arian, were precipitated by a lawsuit filed by former Federal prosecutor John Loftus. Loftus’ lawsuit, as well as U.S. government warrants and affidavits, say that the Saudis laundered over $1.7 billion to terrorist operations via the Northern Virginia Muslim umbrella groups. Even more frightening, one of the groups, Graduate School of Islamic and Social Sciences, conducted the U.S. Government-authorized training of Muslim chaplains for the U.S. military and prisons--all while it laundered money to terrorists.

In the late ‘80s--before Washington intern meant Chandra and Monica--I was an intern for several Congressmen on Capitol Hill. And I saw the Saudi propaganda machine in action.

While many special interest groups, from the Southern Catfish Farmers to the National Funeral Directors Association held luxe receptions for Congressmen and Senators, the sneaky Saudis held a giant reception for college-aged interns at the Washington Convention Center. Complete with belly dancers and an exhibit on “Prince Bandar in Space,” I figured interns would see beyond the free hummus and falafel.

I figured my fellow leaders of tomorrow—whom the Saudis were trying to entice--wouldn’t be that gullible, that they wouldn’t be remaking Jimmy Buffett’s songs into “Shishkabobs in Paradise.” It wasn’t my fellow interns, but my future President--the son of the then-current one--I should have been worried about.

With Princes like Abdullah and Bandar, we’d be better off with another Prince—as in the artist former known as Prince—hanging out at the Bush Ranch.




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