The bodyguard: A life devoted to royal service

Mohammed Rashid Khelfan al Gufly first went into battle when he was 15. It was the start of a career that would see him work as a bodyguard to Sheikh Zayed for 20 years, a role that gave the Bedouin a close-up view of history as the UAE was born. Rym Ghazal reports from Falaj al Mu'alla Mohammed Rashid Khelfan al Gufly will never forget the day when, aged 46, he got his first passport and, with it, the treasured "sense of belonging" he had sought since he was a child.
Issued just four years after the birth of the nation, it was also his first official document, complete with his name and that of his country - and it was in print. What is more, he received it directly from Sheikh Zayed, in an informal ceremony conducted shortly after the founder of the UAE had made sure all his assembled courtiers had had their coffee. Mr al Gufly was a bodyguard and, along with the rest of the Sheikh's trusted circle of companions, needed travel documents to accompany his leader on the increasing number of overseas trips he had to make in his role as the leader of the world's newest country.
He recalls how his life's journey as a defender of sheikhs began in his childhood as an orphan. He has no memory of his parents, who both died when he was an infant, and he had always felt the need to "belong" and to do something meaningful with his life. He found that meaning in royal service. Mr al Gufly became a warrior at 15, around the end of the Second World War. He is now 80, or thereabouts. He says he could be as old as 90 - his passport says he was born in 1929, but that was an estimate as back then no records were kept of births and deaths.
In his youth, in the tempestuous years before unification, Mr al Gufly fought many battles and has been responsible for the safety of five sheikhs, including Sheikh Zayed. The al Gufly, he says with pride, "are a branch from the Shammar tribe, and we are known for being warriors and not fearing death". Although he now walks with the aid of a stick, he still stands to attention and salutes whenever anyone takes a photograph of him. "Once a soldier, always a soldier," he says.
Dressed in a traditional yellow kandura and wearing a red chequered ghutra on his head, the tall former bodyguard is proud of the fact he does not dye his white beard. He is also proud of the part he played in the birth and growth of the nation. "When you protected the ruler of an emirate, you protected your government and your country from falling apart," he says. "I have lived my life to the fullest, and gone everywhere I wanted and am honoured to be part of this country's history when it was coming together."
His martial career began when his potential was spotted by an influential sheikh. "I stood out from the rest because of my height and my eagerness for adventure," he says. "So heads of tribes, including my own tribe, always picked me to be among the band of fighters and bodyguards." It was the head of the Al Zaabi tribe, he says, who "asked me for my help in defending their fort", when he was 15. "I did it willingly as I took that as his complete faith in my loyalty and ability."
He found himself in action within a few hours of being given a rifle by Sheikh Abduallah bin Hassan Al Zaabi, then ruler of Jazerat Al Hamra, the "Red Island" near Ras al Khaimah. Shown how to use it, he joined other, older men in a series of power struggles between the Al Zaabi and Al Qassimi tribes. "There were so many tribal battles before the unification, and so much treachery, that if there was a trustworthy bodyguard, he often was lent out to other sheikhs for special occasions and visits that required extra security," recalls Mr al Gufly.
Proving himself a "worthy warrior", he was taken up by Sheikh Abdul al Rahman bin Mohammed al Shamsi, the Sheikh of Al Hiyra, an area between Ajman and Sharjah, where he served as a bodyguard for several years. In the 1950s, he was a bodyguard for Sheikh Rashid bin Humaid Al Nuaimi, the then-ruler of Ajman, with whom he stayed for more than five years. As might be expected of a former royal servant, he is the soul of discretion and will talk only in general terms about his duties during the birth pangs of the nation.
"Besides protecting the ruler, one of my other jobs was to keep peace in a dispute between big families and tribes," he says. As part of the makhouza police - literally, "taken" - he would be delegated by the sheikh to step in to prevent intertribal violence when something had been taken by force by one tribe from another. "Only the most trusted men would have the honour of becoming the mediators in tribal disputes," he says. "Also," he adds, with a big smile, "the strongest men."
One of his first trips abroad, between royal assignments and before the UAE was formed in 1971, was to Kuwait, a country he saw as "modern" and full of opportunities. "It just opened my eyes to a new way of life, and that which I see is now here," says Mr al Gufly. Back home, he lived in tents and in houses made of palm fronds. In Kuwait, he saw modern housing, shopping centres, and Arabs working on construction sites.
He decided to stay and try his hand: "I carried heavy sandbags back and forth, and so did many others like me from different emirates and Oman. We were called Ahel al Shrouq" - People from the East. Mr al Gufly tried to save some money in Kuwait, but after six months of working on a building site he gave up and returned home. Water, imported from Basra in Iraq, was too expensive for him there and cost him most of his salary.
On his return, he was recruited by Sheikh Ahmed bin Rashid Al Mu'alla, the ruler of Umm al Qaiwain, the emirate of which his hometown of Falaj al Mu'alla was part. He also served as a guide for women travelling alone across the emirates. "I was like the bus, but with camels, where I would protect the women on their journey," he says. "A woman is precious and should always be honoured and protected." To this day, Mr al Gufly stresses to the males in his family the importance of "gentlemanly" behaviour.
He defended Sheikh Ahmed for more than five years before he finally met the man to whom he would devote the last 20 years of his working life. "Sheikh Zayed was very wise, and got all the tribes to send their representative to stay with him in his palace," he recalls. Mr al Gufly and two others were selected to represent his tribe at Sheikh Zayed's court, to defend him and serve as the contact between the two tribes. That was in 1960 and, until his retirement in 1980, Mr al Gufly was one of a team of trusted retainers who rarely left the Sheikh's side.
His duties often took him far from home for long periods - up to a year - and this was one of the reasons he married late, in his mid-30s. When he did finally marry a woman from his home village, they had nine children and a happy marriage, punctuated by separation. "Of course, my wife feared for my life, but she understood why I was doing what I did." Those could be dangerous times. "Brother betrayed a brother then and so trust was the most valued quality in a man," says Mr al Gufly. "The fact I was trusted enough to be with Sheikh Zayed is the biggest honour a simple Bedouin like myself can get in this life."
Mr al Gufly fondly remembers Sheikh Zayed as a man with many qualities. "With just two words, he could make even the strongest of men shake with fear," he says, yet "Sheikh Zayed was humble, compassionate, fair and always walked among his people". He recalls the countless times he accompanied the Ruler to villages to inquire about his people and their needs. Mr al Gufly's memories are richer than most, ranging from attending a concert by the legendary Arab singer, Umm Kulthum, to seeing in person heads of states from across the world. His richest recollections, though, are of the many meals and quiet conversations he shared with Sheikh Zayed. The memories make him beam with pleasure.
"I was always there, near him, near the founder of our country," he says. "People don't notice us, but we, the bodyguards, were always there and ready to put our life on the line to protect our leaders." Mr al Gufly denies he was ever hurt in the line of duty, but his body tells a different story, bearing the marks of cauterisation, a traditional procedure for the treatment of wounds. He never learnt to read or write, but says he has used "creative" methods to get by, such as knotting threads when counting amounts and noting landmarks when memorising roads. "I am proof that you can get by in life using your wits, charm and memory,"
Mr al Gufly is not wealthy. The salary of a bodyguard averaged between 20 and 40 riyals a month and he freely admits that he was never able to save money. He doesn't care. His treasured memories are his riches. "I had a full life, and have absolutely no regrets," he says.
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