The angry shopkeeper

PROFILE: Mohamed al-Fayed; We should not underestimate the political ambition of the Harrods boss, says Chris Blackhurst

There are two sides to Mohamed al-Fayed, the owner of Harrods. There is the smiling, cuddly, favourite uncle figure who poses for shots at the opening of the store's sale. He looks like the cat who has got the cream, the man who owns the most famous store in Britain and possibly the world, who mixes with the Queen at the Royal Windsor Horse Show, which he sponsors.

In private, friends and visitors are treated to a quite different display. His language drops several notches until what is heard is a stream of expletives. Often he can be very funny, in a blokish, familiar sort of way. Comments about sex and the size of the male organ are a speciality.

But never far away, and increasingly apparent in recent months, is a smouldering anger. Mention the Government or certain ministers or Tory MPs and he erupts in fury. Once, his hatred was more or less solely directed against Roland "Tiny" Rowland, the steely former Lonrho boss who fought him for years for control of Harrods. Now Tiny has gone - they shook hands, finally, in October 1993, under the stuffed shark with "Tiny" painted on its belly hanging from the roof of the Harrods Food Hall. Fayed's old adversary has been replaced by new enemies, whom he once sought as his friends.

His loathing for them goes much deeper than it ever did for Mr Rowland. Then, they were business rivals, sparring partners, who probably secretly relished a good scrap. This is different; this is personal.

It is all about, as he sees it, a foreigner who genuinely likes this country and wants to do some good here, who has been done down by the Government, by the establishment. It is about snobbery and acceptance, about powerful people closing ranks, about racism.

Al-Fayed, the big-time businessman, has discovered what it is like to be the little man. That cruel learning process, say his friends, has forced him to think seriously about forming a political party.

The idea appeals to him, but not, to his immense credit, out of personal vanity. The manifesto drafted by his office contains not a hint of personal self-aggrandisement. It is a remarkable document, almost red, and most definitely Liberal Democrat orange, in tone and content.

Until the Independent reported his intention last week, his talk was known only to a handful of his courtiers. Some could not take it seriously, believing a political party to be another of those wacky ideas he chucks out from time to time. Others counselled caution, to feel your way, start a think-tank, then see if you can go further.

Still others detected a desperate seriousness. In recent months, they have seen him rebuffed in his attempt to acquire citizenship for himself and his brother Ali, and fail, miserably, in acquiring a national newspaper. Yesterday, he received some solace by paying pounds 3m for Viva!, the troubled radio station aimed at women.

For anyone who knows him, Viva!, with an audience of just 500 at times, and Punch, also part of his new Liberty Publishing media venture, will not be enough. Constantly, he talks of "****ing" the Government, of sorting the country out, of helping the man in the street.

He wants to introduce a Bill of Rights, a Freedom of Information Act, proportional representation, an elected second chamber, nationalisation of the utilities, a slimmed-down, Scandinavian-style monarchy. The National Lottery, described as a tax on the poor in his four-page programme, would go.

This, from someone who owns, in addition to Harrods, the Ritz in Paris, the former Duke of Windsor's house in France, a castle in Scotland and an estate in Surrey and holds numerous Royal Warrants. "Mohamed al-Fayed has had a 10-year crash course in British injustice," said one of his aides. "He came here with a starry-eyed view of Britain, which has been completely dashed. He suffers from disillusionment, not just at his own treatment but at the system he has witnessed at close hand."

A quick run through the crash course: Tiny sells his shares in House of Fraser, Harrods' parent; Mohamed buys the whole company, to Tiny's anguish; Tiny begins a relentless campaign to get the takeover overturned by the Government; Department of Trade and Industry inspectors report that Mohamed lied about the source of his wealth and misrepresented his family roots as being in a great trading dynasty; strenuous efforts to get that report shelved come to nought, despite intensive wooing of Tory ministers, MPs and journalists, including putting them up at the Ritz; Mohamed saves the pound by persuading his friend, the Sultan of Brunei, not to switch into dollars; Mohamed gives millions to charity yet he still cannot acquire a British passport.

Surrounded by his faithful retainers in Knightsbridge, recently strengthened by the addition of Stewart Steven, the former editor of the London Evening Standard, Mr Fayed broods. He is convinced that the inspectors were appointed to appease Lonrho, because ministers feared that the Observer, which Lonrho owned, would attack Mark Thatcher in the run-up to the 1987 general election. When the inspectors met, the Fayed side claims, his evidence was virtually ignored. Then, their report was leaked and the leak traced to Scotland Yard, yet nobody was ever prosecuted. "Mohamed can never understand what has happened to him," says a member of his circle.

There is, of course, another side to all this. Beginning with the war with Lonrho, he has used dirty tactics. A man who never gives up, his aggression and sheer persistence can be more off-putting than effective. He employs a small army of security men and a battery of lawyers. His reign at Harrods has been characterised by a revolving door of senior executives. He is extremely litigious.

The idea of reforming the country may appeal but his English is poor and he is not exactly surrounded by political heavyweights. It would be an error, though, to underestimate him. "His fundamental mistake was saying his origins were greater than they were," said a close friend, "but he still has the instincts of those origins. He may be vulgar but he has the common touch."

The day the report of his wish to form a new party appeared, my taxi driver was lapping it up. "All the cabbies are behind Goldsmith but if he wants to do it, they might switch to him." His English may be poor but he speaks their language.