Opening an advertising agency in Saudi Arabia in the mid-Seventies was a real challenge, even if Tihama was going to be your national partner. Had it not been for the local experience of Issam Basrawi, who came to the advertising world armed with a legal degree, and our Jeddah-based Lebanese lawyer, we could have been delayed much longer.
Tons of documents had to be legalized by a notary public in Beirut, then legalized at the Ministry of Commerce and Ministry of Foreign Affairs, before they were accepted at the Saudi Embassy for dispatch via the diplomatic bag to Riyadh, and from there to the courts of law in Jeddah. This was not enough, as we faced another requirement by the Saudi Ministry of Information. Since the advertising business fell under the realm of diffusing information to the public, there was a need to have the Department of National Security investigate all the involved players before a license to operate an advertising agency was issued.
In May 1978, all these formalities were finally completed and a license carrying the name of “The International Marketing Company” (which we had to back-translate after the Saudi authorities insisted on an Arabic version of Intermarkets) was issued. My search then began for a building that could best represent Intermarkets in Saudi Arabia, and at the same time accommodate our staff, most of whom we had planned to transfer from Lebanon, where the fighting was becoming scary and dangerous.
It took time but the search finally led to a two-storey building on Makarona Street off King Fahd Avenue. I rushed to furnish the office as well as the staff accommodation, which we called the “Guest House”. This was a really challenging task as, in addition to the agency’s ongoing work, my clients were being handled via remote control. I had to go around Jeddah buying tables and beds, pillows and mattresses, towels, and cooking utensils. Finally, when I felt all was ready, I signaled to Lebanon to send in the troops.
On a day when the Syrian Army was engaged in fighting the Lebanese Forces in East Beirut, a group of Intermarkets’ employees – led by the traffic manager – left Kaslik very early in the morning in the care of Gabriel Brenas, who drove along a winding mountainside route to get to Baskinta. From there, they crossed over to the other side of the firing line and descended into Aley. There, they stopped at my family house to have their first cup of coffee of the day. Then Gabriel Brenas left them and drove back to his temporary accommodation in Kaslik, while they drove to Beirut Airport via Aramoun.
I was waiting for their arrival at Jeddah Airport and had the shock of my life when I greeted these pale, yellowish-green faces who were recounting the heartbreaking sight of Beirut burning as their MEA flight took off in the early evening.
The next day, after they had all settled into their Saudi rooms and rested, I got them together for a welcome lunch and an hour of general orientation. I briefed them about the importance of Saudi Arabia for regional business and for our own network. I coached them about the religious environment they had been parachuted into, about the five daily prayers and the fact that all businesses shut at prayer time. I told them about the non-availability of alcohol and the danger of consuming smuggled liquor, and the fact that they had to survive in a male-only environment, as females were veiled and not to be approached. As they started to frown and ask funny questions, I gave them the phone number of the hostel where Saudi Arabian Airlines, Saudis stewardesses stayed, explaining that they could try dialing that number for hours and find it always engaged. But, if they were lucky to get through, they might develop an envious and very precious relationship. But even then, they needed to be always alert and cautious.
Intermarkets Saudi Arabia soon took off with full force. The team grew and learnt how to relax, far away from the fighting in Lebanon, by going after new business and competing at table tennis, as we had created a recreational area on the roof. Tihama was happy with its new partner and soon all its people learnt to co-exist with the new competitor/partner. My visits to Saudi Arabia dropped off dramatically as the Toyota, Westinghouse and Ceylon Tea portfolios were assigned to Jeddah-based teams, who quickly began to add value to the first two clients due to proximity, and to the third because of the regular contact with tea importers.
Then one summer day, I received a panicked call from Issa Antar, the wise man of the agency. He told me that he was calling from the police station and had been allowed one call only. The police had raided the agency, collected the passports of all the staff, and sent the people home. They then closed the agency and put a police seal on the lock. Issa, Bassam Soboh, the Intermarkets appointed manager, and Suleiman Abou Hlayel, the Saudi managing director appointed by Tihama, were all put in jail. Issa called for help on behalf of them all.
Long distance direct dialing was still unknown, but despite this limitation I managed to get through to Dany Louca, one of the senior clients serving executives. Dany had no clue why the agency was closed. All he could tell me was that the staff had been called to the boardroom, where a police officer and two soldiers were standing next to the general manager. The officer ordered the staff to go home and not to come back unless they were sent for by their management. As they were leaving, they saw their three senior colleagues being taken into the police car and the office door being locked and officially sealed. At that moment, I immediately called the office of Sheikh Mohammad Saeed Tayeb, only to be told that he was on holiday in London, but no one seemed to know where he was staying. They asked me to leave him a message which they would pass on when he called next. However, when they said he only called once or twice a week, I realized we could not afford the wait.
I began calling the London hotels where Gulf Arabs usually stay. I tried the Sheraton Park Tower, The Carlton Tower, The InterContinental, The Dorchester, and was about to give up the search when I remembered and called The Churchill. Luckily, Sheikh Saeed happened to still be in his room. As usual, he instantly made the case his priority. And since I was not able to provide enough explanation, Sheikh Saeed did his investigation and called me back to enquire about a campaign that Intermarkets seem to have booked recently, which the Saudi authorities considered to be in breach of the Kingdom’s code of decency and morality. I was about to fall from my chair when Sheikh Saeed asked if I was aware of such a campaign being managed by Intermarkets. After a few minutes, he called again to tell me that he was taking the first flight he had managed to secure back to Jeddah. When I volunteered to meet him there, he warned me not to do so, until he cleared the matter. My own further investigation with the agency staff, who kept calling to enquire about their managers and when the office would reopen, revealed that a campaign had been sent to Intermarkets Saudi Arabia by an American ad agency we had been introduced to by our Westinghouse client. The campaign was to promote a service that helps people acquire a second passport. The ad listed a European telephone number that applicant had to call to get the details of which passports were being offered at what price. Police involvement was triggered by a Saudi who had called the number and was offered the service of talking to call girls. Sadly, we had no way of denying this or to provide any convincing facts so that our agency could be re-opened, and our managers released from jail.
But Sheikh Saeed was a man of high-level contacts. After two days, he succeeded in getting Suleiman Abou Hlayel, Bassam Soboh and Issa Antar to walk into his office in the company of a Brigadier of Saudi Police, who handed him a box containing the passports of all the staff and the keys of the agency. Suleiman was still in shock from the unpleasant experience, and this showed on his face, and the way he behaved. The moment the police officer left the room, Suleiman screamed that he was leaving Tihama’s building for the airport, as he could no longer live in a country that treated its people the way he and his co-workers had been treated. Suleiman dashed towards the door and all the efforts of Issam and Bahaa failed to stop him.
Later, Bassam Soboh told us that the three of them were driven in a police car to the State Security Head Quarters the moment Issa Antar had confirmed to the police that the agency had placed an ad inviting people who were seeking a second passport to contact a certain telephone number. En route, the three of them pondered what could have been wrong with this campaign to warrant the closure of the agency and their arrest. Their concern was amplified when they were locked in a large, empty room in the basement of the police building and left there without being interrogated. There was no furniture and they attempted to sleep on the floor but were repeatedly awakened by the screams of people being interrogated next door.
The next day, when they were individually taken for interrogation, they realized that at the core of the authorities’ suspicion was a complaint they had received about telephone numbers that led to hot chat lines. Later, and to justify the office’s closure and the imprisonment of our managers, Sheikh Saeed was told that the phone number we had publicized in relation to second passports was linked to the naughty chat service.
From that day on we lost all contact with Suleiman Abou Hlayel, who was married to a European, and we all concluded that he had emigrated to Ireland. Bassam Soboh flew to Dubai and categorically refused to go back to Jeddah, so we took him on board at the UAE agency. Only Issa Antar stayed to continuously remind us that doing business in the largest free-trade Arab market had its surprising challenges.