My brother, friend, and foster brother through nursing, Hassan Yassin, passed away. May God have mercy on him. I knew him for fifty years, from the time he was working independently as a consultant on oil affairs, drawing on the experience he had gained as director of the office of the late Abdullah Tariki, the Kingdom's first minister of petroleum.
What first drew me to Hassan was his sense of humor. At our very first meeting, he showered me with a torrent of jokes that left me, and everyone seated with us, in fits of laughter. Our meetings continued after he was appointed director of the Saudi Information Office in Washington.
Hassan Yassin was the son of the late Youssef Yassin, adviser to King Abdulaziz. May God have mercy on him. Hassan grew up alongside the King's sons after being nursed by the same women, the King's wives. He completed his secondary education at the renowned Victoria College in Egypt before the revolution and was later sent to the United States to study at the University of California, Berkeley. As he recounted in his memoirs, he was captivated in his youth by all the political currents of the day, from the Muslim Brotherhood to socialism and Arab nationalism. Yet, in the end, his ship came to rest on the shores of his Saudi identity and Arabism, free of extremism or dogmatism. He took pride in the fact that Saudi Arabia was the first state to affirm its Arab identity in its official name.
I worked alongside him during my years at the General Intelligence Presidency on a number of assignments in Washington entrusted to me by my kings. I benefited greatly from his encyclopedic knowledge of the American capital. His home and table were always open to federal officials, elected representatives, journalists, members of think tanks, and figures from the arts community. After he retired from the Information Office and I later served as ambassador in Washington, I appointed him as my adviser. Through his years at Victoria College and Berkeley, he had come to know many distinguished figures from across the Arab world, particularly in Jordan, Egypt, and other Arab countries. Combined with his legendary friendship with my late brother, Prince Saud Al-Faisal, and the many prominent leaders and personalities he came to know throughout the Arab world and beyond, these relationships formed a vast network. Like a skilled fisherman casting his net, Hassan drew people to him through his wit, warmth, and boldness.
May God have mercy on him. He enriched every gathering he attended. Owing to the breadth of his historical and literary reading, he was able to contribute meaningfully to any discussion in any setting. He was also passionate about games such as bridge and backgammon, in which he excelled, as well as racket sports, which he continued to play well into old age. More than thirty years ago, he was diagnosed with cancer and endured recurring bouts of illness throughout different periods of his life. Yet he bore the hardship with remarkable determination and his trademark good humor. He used to say that he had signed a treaty with his disease: if he died, the disease would die with him as well.
Our companionship continued until my own retirement from public office. When he settled in his home in Riyadh, it became an oasis for social and diplomatic gatherings. His dining table became renowned as one of the finest in Riyadh, distinguished as much by its conversation as by its cuisine. His home was a regular destination for diplomats and political and media figures whom the leadership entrusted him to host.
May God have mercy on you, Hassan Yassin. I have lost you, as have all those fortunate enough to have known you. Your memory will endure as that of a devoted son of this country, a man who served kings and brought joy to his friends. We shall never find your equal. We will remember every witty remark that delighted us, every fine meal you shared with us, and every opinion with which you challenged us.
