Rise of the White Sultan
By Keith Dovkants, Evening Standard Last updated at 00:00am on 16.10.02
Picturesque: Faccombe village, owned by Brigadier Tim Landon
There is an air of flawless charm about Faccombe. The lawns and hedges are trimmed to perfection, no jarring feature offends the eye, and - although early autumn is claiming the foliage of the fine old chestnut trees - the long gravel drive that leads up to the manor is without blemish. A gardener gathers the leaves assiduously, almost as soon as they fall, reinforcing an impression that Faccombe is not real but rather some Arcadian ideal, painted on to the landscape by a meticulous hand
In a way, that is precisely what it is. Faccombe is the exclusive realm of the White Sultan, the most fastidious of men who earned his sobriquet from his part in a foreign war and its aftermath. Like a latter-day T E Lawrence he has served Britain well through a close bond with the Arab world and, at this juncture in history with the West in conflict with extreme Islam, there may be a need for his kind again. Unlike Lawrence of Arabia, he came home with fabulous riches - his wealth exceeds that of the Queen's personal fortune of £275 million - and he owns not only Faccombe manor, but the entire north Hampshire village with its cottages, picture-postcard pub, stone and flint church, farms and surrounding land.
His name is Brigadier Tim Landon, although that may mean very little, because he is among the most secretive of men. He shuns public exposure and in London, it is said, he travels in his privately-owned black cab for the sake of anonymity. In Faccombe the villagers guard his privacy zealously, as well they might. He is the sole landlord and employer.
But questions are beginning to be asked about Brigadier Landon. He has been identified as the mysterious purchaser of some of England's finest moorland on a scale that has sent a frisson through country property circles. His name was linked recently to the purchase of Viscount Lambton's 12,000-acre Muggleswick estate, one of the finest grouse moors in England.
Muggleswick went on the market in August for £6 million. Agents Richard Murray Wells confirmed it had been sold but refused to identify the new owner. That is the way Brigadier Landon likes to do business, discreetly. When Knarsdale and Asholme moors in Northumberland were put on sale for £5 million last summer he quietly snapped them up. He already owned Westerdale and Rosedale moors in North Yorkshire and, our inquiries reveal, two moors in Scotland, Hope and Tollishill. His total land ownership now approaches 50,000 acres. What is he up to? Where does all the money come from? These are the questions at the heart of the White Sultan enigma.
But answers are not readily found. Brigadier Landon's name does not appear in Who's Who and his fortune and business interests are managed by a secretive Swiss company. In Faccombe, residents say they are told never to speak about him. Brigadier Landon, 60, goes to great lengths to remain invisible, as befits a man whose fortune and success began in the shadows. His friends say his story could have come from the pages of Boy's Own, but lifting a corner of the White Sultan's veil suggests, rather, something from the pen of Frederick Forsyth. It is a story of intrigue, daring and opportunism, and, like many great adventures, it begins with a war.
In the late Sixties, Britain became embroiled in the guerrilla war being fought in Oman, the strategically important and oilrich nation facing Iran across the Persian Gulf. Communist rebels, trained and armed by Russia, were trying to overthrow Sultan Said bin Taimour with incursions into the southern Dhofar region from Yemen. It was a bitter conflict fought in harsh desert conditions. Britain contributed arms and men, among them James Timothy Whittington Landon, a Canadianborn captain in a smart cavalry regiment, the 10th Hussars.
Britain was desperately anxious not to lose its influence in Oman, but the old sultan had developed an uncomfortably independent streak and the Foreign Office was concerned about his increasing hostility to suggestions from Whitehall. Much was at stake. Oman and its 1,000-mile-long coastline has vital strategic significance and, in the late Sixties, the country was on the brink of an oil boom in which British companies were keen to share.
But, even if the war against the rebels was won - would the sultan be a reliable ally? It was no coincidence that Captain Landon was picked for service in Oman.
Landon had been at Sandhurst with the Sultan's son, Qaboos, and the young men were great friends. In the early Sixties Sandhurst was not as enlightened as it may be today, and the young Omani prince became a victim of bullies. The son of another Middle Eastern potentate had been dangled from an upper window by his ankles and the same fate might have befallen Qaboos but for the intervention of Landon. A contemporary recalled: "Tim is not very big but he is tough and he has these cold blue eyes that can be quite menacing." The bullies backed off.
In Oman Landon and the Sultan's son renewed their friendship, under the watchful eye of Brigadier Malcolm Dennison, the chief intelligence officer whose frequent reports to London commanded unusual interest at the Foreign Office. Encouraged by Dennison, Landon became a frequent guest at Qaboos's house in the grounds of Salalah Palace. But his visits were not allowed to distract him from the urgent business of fighting the rebels. Landon was in the thick of the action.
Sir Ranulph Fiennes, the distinguished explorer and author, was with him. He spent two years fighting the guerrillas and is one of the few people who came to know Landon well. He said: "Tim was an intelligence officer and, with all due deference to his predecessors who were South African, he was extremely good news. I had nearly been killed through useless intelligence, and it could be a bit worrying sitting in a cave somewhere wondering if they'd got things right. But Tim made a point of getting to know the local people; he learned their language and his information was reliable."
Although Sir Ranulph did not know it then, Landon was also working hard at another, perhaps even more important, part of his mission. John Beasant, a writer and journalist, spent more than 11 years in Oman before he was expelled in February 1999. He had made it known he was working on a book about the country's transition from a desert kingdom to a modern oil state and, he says, was offered a bribe to abandon the project.
"I refused. They booted me out," he said. But he had almost finished Oman, The True Life Drama and Intrigue of an Arab State, and the book was published recently in London to wide acclaim.
Beasant said he had evidence that showed Tim Landon had been a key player in a British plot to overthrow the old Sultan and put his son on the throne. Beasant said: "Qaboos needed to be convinced that it was necessary to overthrow his father. Landon, his old friend and protector, steadied his nerve."
The coup took place on 24 July, 1970. The most colourful version of events has Tim Landon storming a staircase at the palace with an automatic in his hand. It was, however, a thoroughly British coup and little blood was shed, although the Sultan was wounded, probably when the ancient revolver he carried went off accidentally. He was treated at a British military hospital and lived out his days in a suite at the Dorchester Hotel. Asked once what had been his greatest regret he replied: "Not having had Landon shot."
Meanwhile, the young Sultan Qaboos began his reign with Landon at his side, but what happened next confounded the best laid plans of the Foreign Office. Landon resigned his commission and became military adviser to the Sultan. He also developed a keen interest in business. As the oil revenues-brought billions of dollars into Oman, the country's spending on arms rocketed.
According to Beasant, this was where the foundations of Landon's enormous fortune were laid. In the Sunday Times Rich List published this year the authors say of Landon: "... our sources indicate that his wealth is more than we thought". They estimate it at £330 million and describe the source as "oil". This may be only part of the story. Beasant said: "It is believed in the highest of levels in Oman that he received generous commissions on the arms deals." However, Landon has his critics in Oman and stories of arms deal commissions have not been proved.
It is known that Landon cultivated the friendship of Conservative prime minister Margaret Thatcher and, in the early Eighties, her son Mark was working with him and his business partners on a number of projects. The details have never emerged and Landon refuses to discuss them. He is on record saying he is bound by a confidentiality agreement that relates to his service in Oman.
In 1982 he was given an honorary knighthood. He was made Knight Commander of the Royal Victorian Order, an honour that is in the Queen's personal gift and is usually awarded in recognition of some special service to the Crown. Certainly, playing a key role in helping to keep Oman onside would probably qualify.
He had been given the rank of brigadier in Oman's armed forces and when he returned to Britain to buy Faccombe he had already acquired his White Sultan sobriquet. His ties to Oman were as strong as ever. Beasant said: "In Oman you often hear a story about the Sultan sending him a Christmas card with a message to say he simply couldn't think of anything to buy him. With the card was a cheque for a million pounds. I can assure you, that story is true."
Landon's standing with the Sultan aroused considerable jealousy. When he married Kata, a member of the ancient Hungarian Esterhazy family, there was some debate as to whether she was related to the Austrian Hapsburgs, prompting one cruel wit to dub him "Mr Perhapsburg". John Beasant says he inspired loathing among many close to the Omani court but this seems to have been generated by envy. Intriguingly, he is listed in Foreign Office records as an Omani diplomat, based at the London embassy with the rank of counsellor.
Despite his wealth and privileges his tastes are said to be rather austere, although he has owned a number of fine yachts - one was sold to National Car Parks founder Sir Donald Gosling for £18 million. He hosts shooting parties at his estate and is said to be passionate about the sport. Is that why he is buying up grouse moors?
An acquaintance and shooting aficionado said: "When you get to 60 or so there are only so many seasons left and you don't want to have blank years when there are no grouse. If you have a large number of moors to choose from you can be sure of finding birds to shoot. When you have that kind of money, why not?"
But Landon's old friend Sir Ranulph Fiennes believes there could be more to it than that. He said: "I suspect that he has some project in mind, probably something to do with conservation. He is very keen on protecting the environment."
Indeed, for a man whose wealth derives from an oil-rich state, he seems to have developed something of an antipathy for the stuff itself. Landon has recently become fascinated by natural energy and methods of replacing the use of fossil fuel. Some years ago he had a wind turbine installed at Faccombe and it has proved so successful it generates most of the electricity used on the 650-acre farm, saving an estimated £30,000 a year. But a source in the wind energy movement said there was a strong environmental motive behind installation of the turbine.
"Just before I was kicked out of Oman I was hearing stories about Landon changing with maturity," John Beasant said. "I was told he had embraced Buddhism and had become rather spiritual. People who know him say there has always been a restlessness about him. Despite everything he has achieved and his fantastic wealth I get the impression of a man who is still searching for something."
In Faccombe they are planting next year's wheat and gathering logs for winter fires. Strangers are watched carefully and those who persist with questions are made unwelcome. This is the White Sultan's domain, a closeted realm where, despite the closeness of the community, he is just as much a mystery as he is to the world outside.
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