Jeffrey Robinson - Yamani: The Inside Story

Smashwords edition

JEFFREY ROBINSON 1988, 2014

This book was originally dedicated to my wifeAline, with love. She asked that I change it, and rightfully so, todedicate it forever to

Zaki and Tammam

On Sunday night, October 12,1986 a week before my 41 st birthday and only 19 daysafter the birth of our first child - my wife and I, with our babyson wrapped up warm in a carry-cot, met our old pal David Thiemefor dinner at Trader Vics in the basement of Londons Hilton Hoteloff Hyde Park Corner.

David was a spot oil trader whod ridden thetumultuous oil market waves of the 1970s to wealth and fame, tobust, and back again. A wonderful goateed character, always dressedin black, and with rectangular silver sun glasses even in darkbasement restaurants, he went through the obligatory complimentsone has to make to new parents including, Luckily the baby lookslike Aline but there was really only one topic that he wanted todiscuss. Can you believe that Yamani got fired?

Sheikh Ahmed Zaki Yamani hadbeen, for 24 years, the Minister of Petroleum for the Kingdom ofSaudi Arabia. He was the face of the Organization ofPetroleum Exporting Countries(OPEC), the architect of the oil embargoesagainst the west, and one of the mostpowerful men in the world. He was also one of the mostrecognizable.

King Fahd had fired Yamani the Sundaybefore, and it was front page headline news around the world thenext day. In fact, the story stayed in the headlines for much ofthat week.

David was insistent, Thats your nextbook.

I wasnt convinced. Yamani? You dontunderstand what it would take to do a book like that.

He wasnt easily swayed. Dont beridiculous. Im telling you, this is huge. Were talking about oneof the most famous men in the world.

I know that, I said. But... I dont knowanything about Yamani.

He insisted. You can learn.

Id have to get to people in the oilbusiness.

You live in London. This is an oil market.Everyones here. Or theyre in New York. You can get to anybody youneed to get to.

To do it right, I said, Id need to getto him.

So? He looked at me and shrugged, So, getto him.

I asked, How?

He said, Youll figure it out.

Later that night, after we put our son tobed, Aline said to me, Davids right.

I still wasnt convinced. Its not thateasy.

But she was. Youll figure it out.

The next morning, on a whim,I phoned the editor with whom Id already had my first UKbest-seller, a book about entrepreneurs called The Risk Takers . Hed just movedjobs, to help set up Simon & Schusters London office. Therewas a Brit I didnt know who was managing director, my guy waseditorial director, there was a woman handling foreign rights andthere was one salesman. They had only that morning received theirfurniture. They didnt yet have any books to publish.

When he got on the phone, all I said was,Yamani.

He asked, What about him?

I said, Thats the book.

He said hold on, went to speak with his bossand a few minutes later came back on the line to say, Start ittoday, well worry about a contract later.

When I told Aline, she said, My mother wasright.

According to her mother, every baby bringswith him or her, its own luck.

Aline nodded several times. Your new-bornson is bringing you Yamani.

*****

The way you do a big biography like this at least the way I do it is to draw a target, like a dart board,and put the subject in the bulls eye.

Getting to him becomes the big prize.

Then you start finding people who know him,or have dealt with him, or have interacted with him, or know enoughabout him that they can lead you to other people who have firsthand stories to tell and, depending on their relationship with him,you place them in various circles surrounding the bulls eye.

The inner circles belong to those people whoare closest to the targets inner circle. Family and intimatefriends. As you go out from there, and the circles get bigger, youadd people who have know him or knew him to varying degrees. Thefurther away from the bulls eye, the less important the source.What you do, then, is start with those people in those outercircles, gather information from them, and hope that they can leadyou to people who are in the next circle.

And all the time you work your way towardsthe bulls eye.

Within a month, having read everything Icould find about the man which was an enormous amount I wasfilling in names at various levels of my ever decreasing circles. Iwas speaking to people about the oil business, about the MiddleEast, about OPEC, about the various oil crises, about theembargoes, about Saudi Arabia, about the assassination attempts onhis life, about the political world through which Yamani hadmaneuvered his entire life and about his life.

I also petitioned everything I could abouthim through the Freedom of Information Act in the UnitedStates.

Within two months I was in Washington,collecting boxes full of petitioned documents and making my waythrough interviews with more than 200 people.

Within three months, I was hearing back thatYamani knew I was on to him.

Thats another way my ever decreasingcircles method works. By the time youre a rung or two from thebulls eye, word has gotten back to the target that youre on thecase.

Eventually, it was time to make thecall.

One of the people Id spoken with at lengthhad given me his home phone number in Jeddah. I rang on a Fridayevening in January.

A woman I later learned it was his wife,Tammam - answered the phone in English, Hello?

I gave her my name, told her I was phoningfrom London, and said that I hoped I wasnt calling at aninconvenient time. Then I asked, Is his excellency there,please?

She said, Oh yes... just a moment, please,and a few seconds later a very distinctive voice came on the linesaying, Good evening.

For the next many years, I would hear himsay Good evening, or Good morning, or Good afternoon, andfollow that with, How are you? a million times. And each time Iheard that voice on the other end of my phone, I would smile.

It is rare enough in life to meet one trulyspectacular person. It is a million times more rare to meet two.But knowing Zaki and Tammam has been one of the great joys of mylife, and of Alines too.

At first, he was reluctantto get involved with this book, and somewhat suspicious of me. Hedheard from several people that I was writing about him, andthankfully, a number of those people seemed to agree that I was aserious guy who would write a serious book. But he needed to findthat out for himself. So we spoke for quite a while, during whichtime he made it clear that he wasnt anxious to cooperate with me.I asked him to read some things, and said I hoped we could speakagain. The following day, I sent him a copy of The Risk Takers. We chatted again aweek later about what I wanted to do. He promised to be intouch.

I continued interviewing people, and diggingthrough documents while several weeks passed without any word fromhim.

I wasnt sure how long I wanted to waitbefore contacting him again, but he beat me to it. On a Thursdaymorning at around 9, the phone rang and I heard that wonderfulvoice say, Good morning. How are you?

I said, How very nice to hear from you. Ihope all is well with you.

He said, We are in the mountains. Why dontyou come to see me?

I answered immediately, I would bedelighted. I am flattered. But... I had to ask, Which mountainsare you talking about?

He said Switzerland, gave me the number athis chalet in Crans-Montana and told me to phone back when I had aflight and an arrival time at Geneva. He said he would have a carwaiting for me at the airport.