Be It Ever So Humble . . . : Kuwait’s emir decides to play the palace

The emir of Kuwait, bitterly criticized for wait ing more than two weeks after his country’s liberation before venturing home from exile, now seems ready to settle in and resume doing whatever it is that potentates do. But finding a place to hang his kaffiyeh hasn’t been easy. Sheik Jabbar al Ahmed al Sabah’s usual abode, the 200-year old Dasman Palace, was looted and badly damaged by Iraq’s occupation forces in the orgy of destruction that accompanied their retreat. In consequence, the emir, like house hunters everywhere, has been forced to lower his sights and accept certain compromises.

Fortunately, another suitable residence was available. Bayan Palace, which in fact is a complex of buildings, boasts 108 separate apartments. Each has a master bedroom, six other bedrooms, living room, dining room, kitchen, two large reception rooms and nine--that’s nine--bathrooms. It is not, in other words, the kind of place anyone would confuse with a hovel. There’s plenty of room to swing a cat, if that’s what the emir feels like doing, and there’s no need to feel ashamed about having the neighbors over.

The trouble is that the palace, like everything else in Kuwait, was left in bad shape when the Iraqis departed. Much of its furnishings were stolen or destroyed. What remained was decidely unroyal in appearance. The Carrara marble floors were dirty. The gilt-edged tables needed a good polishing. The toilets had been stripped of their gold-plated handles. In all, the palace was not the kind of home that a self-respecting emir would think of moving in to. What was the alternative? Several come to mind, but the one chosen by the emir was to order up a crash program to make the palace livable. Lo, it has been done. Under a $1.5- million contract, the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers, employing 400 workers, has performed wonders in restoring Bayan Palace to its former eminence. Gold-plated doorknobs and bathroom fixtures are back in place, silk brocade covers the walls, new carpets and sofas are in place.

No doubt Kuwaitis eager to be distracted from their misery would be proud, if only they knew what was going on. They would be delighted to know that the emir’s vital supplies of inlaid-leather tables and brocaded cushions were shipped into Kuwait city on March 4, six days before the first emergency food supplies arrived to feed the hungry. They would be pleased that their ruler will have all the hot water and air conditioning he wants, even as they wait weeks more for basic water and electrical services to be restored. Kuwaitis who stand in line for eight or 10 hours for a ration of rice and sugar would feel better knowing that their emir is dining at a table covered with embossed Irish linen and set with sterling silver cutlery, all shipped in on a priority basis.

Was it for this unflinching commitment to luxurious living in the midst of adversity that Americans and their allies fought and bled? No, the war was fought for nobler purposes, foremost to repel aggression. The emir’s behavior is only an embarrassing consequence of that success.