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The late King Hussein in his book “My Life as a King” tells the story of the assassination of his grandfather King Abdullah I and how those who had cheered for his life by his side were the first to abandon him at the moment of his death. Assassination. We leave you to Hussein, may God have mercy on him
(He walked towards the mosque, and after a few steps, a man appeared from behind the gate on the right. He was in a very abnormal state, holding a weapon in his hands. He opened the door before anyone resisted. My grandfather had never seen him, and he was only two meters away from the murderer.
He was hit in the head and fell to the ground with his turban scattered on the ground. I didn’t know what happened immediately.
The murderer stood there motionless for what seemed like an eternity.
At my feet, there was a white object lying on the ground. I still didn’t understand. Suddenly
The man turned and ran. So I started following him inside the mosque. And when he started
In my haste, I saw out of the corner of my eye my grandfather’s friends running away. I still see them, these elders and national figures, hiding their faces and running away, like frightened old women. This picture will be etched in my memory more permanently than the picture of the murderer, because it is a permanent proof, in large part, of the weakness and rapidity of political loyalty.
(He walked towards the mosque, and after a few steps, a man appeared from behind the gate on the right. He was in a very abnormal state, holding a weapon in his hands. He opened the door before anyone resisted. My grandfather had never seen him, and he was only two meters away from the murderer.
He was hit in the head and fell to the ground with his turban scattered on the ground. I didn’t know what happened immediately.
The murderer stood there motionless for what seemed like an eternity.
At my feet, there was a white object lying on the ground. I still didn’t understand. Suddenly
The man turned and ran. So I started following him inside the mosque. And when he started
In my haste, I saw out of the corner of my eye my grandfather’s friends running away. I still see them, these elders and national figures, hiding their faces and running away, like frightened old women. This picture will be etched in my memory more permanently than the picture of the murderer, because it is a permanent proof, in large part, of the weakness and rapidity of political loyalty.
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