Saudi Flag: Centuries-Long Emblem of National Unity

King Fahd and King Salman with the Saudi flag on the occasion of King Saud assuming the reins of power in 1953 (Archive of Adnan Al-Tarif)
King Fahd and King Salman with the Saudi flag on the occasion of King Saud assuming the reins of power in 1953 (Archive of Adnan Al-Tarif)
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Saudi Flag: Centuries-Long Emblem of National Unity

King Fahd and King Salman with the Saudi flag on the occasion of King Saud assuming the reins of power in 1953 (Archive of Adnan Al-Tarif)
King Fahd and King Salman with the Saudi flag on the occasion of King Saud assuming the reins of power in 1953 (Archive of Adnan Al-Tarif)

Saudi Flag Day, which is observed on March 11 as decreed by King Salman bin Abdulaziz, commemorates the adoption of the Saudi flag, finalized in 1937 by King Abdulaziz’s endorsement of the Shura Council’s decision.
For over three centuries, the green flag has symbolized Saudi national identity, resonating with meanings and uniqueness for Saudis.
Asharq Al-Awsat seized the opportunity to interview researcher Adnan bin Saleh Al-Turaif, who has extensively studied Saudi Arabia’s history and cultural legacy across its three stages.
Turaif shared his remarkable collection of over a hundred flags, including the original flag of the first Saudi state and those representing subsequent stages. He also discussed the significance of Saudi Flag Day, and provided insights into the Saudi flag's 300-year history.
The researcher generously shared flags, documents, photos, and speeches for the first time, and authored a comprehensive book detailing the Saudi flag’s evolution.
Turaif noted that the flag settled into its current form during King Abdulaziz’s reign.
Historical sources describe the original flag as green, intricately woven with the Arabic inscription “There is no god but Allah, Muhammad is the Messenger of Allah,” tied to a simple pole.
This design persisted through the reigns of the first founder, Imam Muhammad bin Saud, his son Imam Abdulaziz bin Muhammad, the conqueror Imam Saud bin Abdulaziz (known as “Saud the Great”), and his son, Imam Abdullah bin Saud.
During the British-French conflict, Domingo Badia, a Spanish explorer later revealed to be a spy, pretended to be a Muslim named Ali Bey el Abbassi and wanted to gather information about Saudi Arabia.
He arrived in Makkah in January 1807 from Morocco through North Africa and witnessed Imam Saud’s army entering Makkah.
Badia, under his alias, noted 45,000 of Saud’s followers, dressed in pilgrimage attire, carrying a green flag with “There is no god but Allah, Muhammad is the Messenger of Allah” written in large white Arabic letters.
The first Saudi flag was raised in 1727 by Imam Muhammad bin Saud, who ruled for 40 years. He or his sons would carry the flag.
According to historian Ibn Bishr, during the reign of Imam Abdulaziz bin Muhammad and his son Imam Saud, messengers were sent to tribal leaders to gather on a specific day and place marked by a water source, where the flag would be raised.
Ibn Bishr also noted that Imam Saud was successful in battles without ever having his flag defeated.
Similarly, when discussing Imam Turki bin Abdullah, founder of the second Saudi state, Ibn Bishr mentioned that before raids, he would instruct regional princes and tribal leaders to gather on a specified day and location.
The flag would be raised near the palace gate a day or two before departure, with Imam Turki or his son Faisal overseeing its procession.
According to Al-Turaif, King Abdulaziz initially used the same flag as the first and second Saudi states but later made changes to it.
In 1925, King Abdulaziz ordered a new flag design. In 1937, the Shura Council set the flag dimensions to be 150 by 100 centimeters. That year, flags were also designated for the King, Crown Prince, Army, Aviation, Interior, Royal Saudi Navy, and Commercial Navy.
In 1952, the Shura Council adjusted flag dimensions. In 1973, the Council of Ministers approved the flag system.
In 1991, under King Fahd’s reign, the flag was specified to be green, with width two-thirds of its length, featuring the phrase “There is no god but Allah, Muhammad is the Messenger of Allah” and a sword underneath.
Regarding who designed the current Saudi flag, Al-Turaif explained : “There's a lot of misinformation out there. The design has evolved since the early days of the state. The Shura Council updated it to its current form, which was approved by King Abdulaziz.”
“There’s been speculation that the early flags of Najd or the Kingdom had a crescent, but that's not true. There’s no historical evidence linking the crescent to any Saudi flag,” he told Asharq Al-Awsat.
According to Al-Turaif, the current flag symbolizes guidance, justice, strength, growth, and prosperity. The central declaration of faith represents peace and Islam, the foundation of the state. The sword stands for strength, unity, wisdom, stature, security, and safety.
He also noted that the green color represents Islam and signifies peace, generosity, tolerance, and water, while the white color symbolizes the purity of Saudi Arabia.
Carriers of the Flag Over Time
Throughout Saudi Arabia’s history, various individuals have carried the flag.
In the first state, it was Ibrahim bin Tawq and Abdullah Abu Nahih. In the second state, it was Hamidi bin Salama, Saleh bin Hudayyan, and Ibrahim Al-Zafiri.
With King Abdulaziz, Abdul Latif Al-Maashouq was the first to carry the flag in the Battle of Riyadh in 1902. He was followed by his son Mansour Al-Maashouq. After them, Abdul Rahman bin Matraf and his sons took over the flag’s duty. Today, the Al-Matraf family still carries the flag, though many others have proudly borne the Saudi flag in different battles and places.
A Unique Flag Protocol
Al-Turaif has always said that the Saudi flag is a unique case.
“It’s special because it’s never lowered to half-mast during mourning or crises,” he explained, adding that the Saudi flag is also not used for advertising and should never touch the ground or water.
“There are strict rules against sitting on it or taking it to impure places. It doesn't bow to guests during ceremonial events. Penalties are in place for breaking flag rules,” added Al-Tarif.
Embroidering the Flag
When it comes to crafting and writing on the Saudi flag, Al-Turaif mentions that historically, this task was entrusted to individuals from notable families in Riyadh.
In modern times, Abdullah bin Muhammad bin Shahin and Saad bin Saeed took on this responsibility.
While Saeed managed flag supplies, the actual sewing wasn’t done by him. Documents indicate that King Abdulaziz assigned Sheikh Abdul Rahman Al-Tabishi to procure some flag necessities.
Additionally, flags were made using fabric-on-fabric techniques in various countries during King Abdulaziz’s reign, including the United States, Pakistan, and some Arab countries.
The First Flag Calligrapher
Regarding the first calligrapher for the Saudi flag during King Abdulaziz’s reign, Al-Turaif reveals that after extensive research, it was discovered that Sheikh Omar Asem Al-Hasani from Al-Jumum in Wadi Fatimah, Makkah, was among the earliest calligraphers.
He migrated to Kuwait, where he worked as a teacher and later became a school director. He previously designed Kuwait’s old flag and was asked to calligraph the Saudi flag during King Abdulaziz’s reign around 1911.
In 1926, King Abdulaziz inaugurated the Kiswa Factory of the Holy Kaaba, and one of the first workers was calligrapher Abdul Rahim Amin Abdullah Bukhari.
He was tasked with calligraphing the Kaaba's cover and inscriptions, and was also asked to calligraph the Saudi flag at that time using the Arabic Thuluth script.
It’s important to note that flags displayed at events attended by King Abdulaziz sometimes differed from the official Thuluth script, as they were often produced by non-Arab calligraphers or factories abroad.



25 Years of Unanswered Questions in Iraq

A Saddam Hussein mural is seen in Baghdad in 1991. (Getty Images)
A Saddam Hussein mural is seen in Baghdad in 1991. (Getty Images)
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25 Years of Unanswered Questions in Iraq

A Saddam Hussein mural is seen in Baghdad in 1991. (Getty Images)
A Saddam Hussein mural is seen in Baghdad in 1991. (Getty Images)

People in Iraq often wonder dejectedly: What if Saddam Hussein were alive and ruling the country today? Many will reply with fantastical answers, but Saddam’s era would have responded: Iraq is isolated, either by siege or by a war that he launched or was being waged against him.

Many people cast doubt on whether actual change has been achieved in Iraq since the US invasion in 2003. The invasion ousted the Baath version of Iraq and Saddam was executed in December 2006, leaving questions to pile up over the years with no one having any answers.

After a quarter century, Iraq is accumulating questions. It casts them aside and forges ahead without addressing them. At best, it reviews itself and returns to that moment in April 2003 when the US launched its invasion. Or it asks new questions about the 2005 civil war, the armed alternatives that emerged in 2007, how ISIS swept through the country in 2014, or the wave of protests that erupted in 2019. It also asks new questions about Iran’s influence in the country that has persisted for decades.

The questions are many and none of the Iraqis have answered them.

A US marine wraps the American flag around the head of a Saddam Hussein statue in Baghdad. (Reuters file)

Saddam and the alternative

The September 11, 2001, attacks shook the United States and the entire world. They struck fear in Baghdad. Saddam had that year claimed that he had written a book, “The Fortified Castle”, about an Iraqi soldier who is captured by Iran. He manages to escape and return to Iraq to “fortify the castle”.

The terrifying Saddam and the terrified Iraqis have long spun tales about escaping to and from Iraq. It is a journey between the question and the non-answers. That year, when Baghdad was accused of being complicit in the 9/11 attacks, Saddam’s son Uday was “elected” member of the Baath party’s leadership council. The move sparked debate about possible change in Iraq. Bashar al-Assad had a year earlier inherited the presidency of Syria and its Baath party from his father Hafez.

The US invaded Iraq two years later and a new Iraq was born. Twenty-five years later, the country is still not fully grown up. Twenty-one years ago, on April 9, 2003, a US marine wrapped the head of a Saddam statue in Baghdad with an American flag. The Iraqis asked: why didn’t you leave us this iconic image, but instead of an American flag, used an Iraqi one?

Baghdad’s question and Washington’s answer

As the Iraqis observe the developments unfold in Syris with the ouster of Bashar from power, they can’t help but ask how this rapid “change” could have been possible without US tanks and weapons. Why are the Syrians insisting on celebrating “freedom” every day? They are also astonished at the Syrians who scramble to greet Abu Mohammed al-Golani, who has not yet managed to put this image behind him and fully assume his original identity of Ahmed al-Sharaa. The Iraqis wonder how the Syrians are managing this transition so far without a bloodbath.

They ask these questions because the Iraqis view and judge the world based on their own memories. They keep asking questions and await answers from others instead of themselves.

The Iraqis recall how in August 2003, after four months of US occupation, that the Jordanian embassy and United Nations offices were attacked, leaving several staff dead, including head of the UN mission Sergio de Mello. The Americans arrested Ali Hassan al-Majid, or “chemical Ali”, Saddam’s cousin, and 125 people were killed in a bombing in al-Najaf, including Shiite cleric Mohammed Baqer al-Hakim.

During that bloody month, the Iraqis asked questions about security, forgetting about Saddam’s alternative, democracy and the promised western model. Later, the facts would answer that the question of security was a means to escape questions about transitional justice.

Sergio de Mello (r) and Paul Bremmer (second right) attend the inaugural meeting of the Iraqi Governing Council in Baghdad on July 13, 2003. (Getty Images)

The question of civil war

Paul Bremer, the American ruler of Iraq, once escorted four opposition figures to Saddam’s prison cell. They flooded him with questions. Adnan al-Pachachi, a veteran diplomat, asked: “Why did you invade Kuwait?” Adel Abdul Mahdi, a former prime minister, asked: “Why did you kill the Kurds in the Anfal massacre?” Mowaffak al-Rubaie, a former national security adviser, asked: “Why did you kill your Baath comrades?” Ahmed al-Halabi simply insulted the former president. Saddam recoiled and then just smiled.

Saddam’s opponents left the prison cell with answers that should have helped them in running the transitional justice administration, but they failed.

The following year, Washington appointed Ayad Allawi to head the interim Iraqi Governing Council (IGC) that had limited jurisdiction so that it could be free to wage two fierce battles: one in Najaf against the “Mahdi Army”, headed by Moqtada al-Sadr, and the other against armed groups comprised of “resistance fighters” and “extremists” in Fallujah.

The opposition in the IGC got to work that was already prepared by the Americans. They outlined the distribution of Shiites, Sunnis and Kurds in the country, with historic questions about the majority and minority, and the “oppressed” now assuming rule after the ouster of the “oppressors”.

On the ground, the Ghazaliya neighborhood in western Baghdad with its Shiite and Sunni residents was in store for a bloodbath. On a winter night in 2005, an entire family was massacred and an enfant strangled to death. Soon after, lines drawing the Shiite and Sunni sections of the neighborhood emerged. The popular market became the tense border between the two halves. Two new rival “enemies” traded attacks, claiming several lives.

In Baghdad’s Green Zone, the IGC drew up a draft of the transitional rule. In January 2005, 8 million Iraqis voted for the establishment of a National Assembly.

Meanwhile, different “armies” kept on emerging in Baghdad. The media was filled with the death tolls of bloody relentless sectarian attacks. Checkpoints manned by masked gunmen popped up across the capital.

Those days seemed to answer the question of “who was the alternative to Saddam.” No one needed a concrete answer because the developments spoke for themselves.

Nouri al-Maliki came to power as prime minister in 2006. He famously declared: “I am the state of law” - in both the figurative and literal sense. Iraqis believed he had answers about the “state” and “law”, dismissing the very pointed “I” in his “manifesto”.

Nouri al-Maliki. (Getty Images)

The Maliki question

The American admired Maliki. Then Vice President Dick Cheney had repeatedly declared that he was committed to the establishment of a stable Iraq. Before that however, he had dispatched James Steele - who was once complicit in running dirty wars in El Salvador in the mid-1980s - to Baghdad to confront the “Sunni rebellion”. Steele set up the Shiite “death squads”. Steele was the man in the shadows behind Ahmed Kazim, then interior minister undersecretary, and behind him stood the new warlords.

In 2006, the political process was shaken by the bombing of the Al-Askari Shrine in Samarra. Questions were asked about the “need” to draw up new maps. Shiite high authority Ali al-Sistani said in February 2007 that the Sunnis were not involved in the attack. In July 2013, Maliki denied an American accusation that Tehran was behind it.

In those days, Maliki’s ego was growing ever bigger, and Steele’s death squads were rapidly growing greater in numbers.

The Iran and ISIS questions

Maliki tried to save himself as one city after another fell into the hands of ISIS. On June 9, 2014, as ISIS was waging battles in Mosul, Maliki met with senior Sunni tribal elders based on advice he had not heeded earlier and which could have averted the current disaster.

It was said that he made reluctant pledges to them and a third of Iraq later fell in ISIS’ hands. Sistani later issued a fatwa for “jihad” against the group, which later turned out not be aimed at saving the premier.

Maliki left the scene and Qassem Soleimani, commander of Iran’s Revolutionary Guard Corps’ (IRGC) Quds Force, took over. Successive prime ministers would know from then on what it is like to be shackled by Tehran’s pressure as IRGC officials made regular visits to their offices.

Soleimani reaped what Steele sowed. By 2017, armed factions were the dominant force in Iraq. Running in their orbit were other factions that took turns in “rebelling” against the government or agreeing with its choices.

Today, and after 14 years, Iran has consolidated what can be described as the “resistance playground” in Iraq that is teeming with armed factions and massive budgets.

Protesters in Baghdad’s Tahrir Square in October 2019. (AFP)

The October question

The Iraqis were unable to answer the ISIS question and the armed factions claimed “victory” against the group. Many ignored Sistani’s “answer” about whether the Popular Mobilization Forces (PMF) was there to protect Iraq or just its Shiites.

Exhausted Iraqis asked: “What next?”

Next came Adel Abdul Mahdi’s government in October 2018. It was weighed down by unanswered questions and a year later, thousands of youths took to the streets to protest the state of affairs in Iraq, specifically the dominance of armed groups.

They were met with live bullets. Many were abducted and others were silenced. Abdul Mehdi acquitted the killers, saying instead that a “fifth column” had carried out the bloody crackdown on protesters.

After he left office, some Iraqi politicians were brave enough to tell the truth, dismissing former PM’s acquittal and pinning blame on the factions.

Sistani called for PMF members to quit their partisan affiliations. His demand was left unheeded. Mustafa al-Qadhimi became prime minister in May 2020. He left office months later, also failing in resolving the issue of the PMF and armed factions.

By 2022, everyone had left the scene, but Iran remained, claiming the Iraqi crown for itself, controlling everything from its finances to its weapons.

Question about post-Assad Syria

On December 8, Syria’s Bashar fled the country. Everyone in Iraq is asking what happens next. The whole system in Iraq is at a loss: Do we wait for how Tehran will deal with Ahmed al-Sharaa, or do we ask Abu Mohammed al-Golani about his memories in Iraq?

The Iraqi people’s memories are what’s ruling the country, more so than the constitution, political parties and civil society because they are burdened with questions they don’t want to answer.

And yet they ask: What if we weren’t part of the “Axis of Resistance”? Iraq’s history would reply that it has long been part of axes, or either awaiting a war or taking part in them.