TO OWN “The Saviour of the World” might seem to us an admirable objective for anyone — but, when we’re talking about Leonardo da Vinci’s Salvator Mundi, possessing art’s most expensive object (bought in 2017 for $450 million) brings with it complex benefits. The Kingdom: The world’s most powerful prince (BBC2, two parts from Monday 19 August) maintained that Saudi Arabia’s Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman’s purchase has two main objectives.
First, it will be the jewel in the crown of a spectacular new museum, making his nation an essential goal for international tourism. And, second, by prizing this Christian graven image, profoundly offensive to Saudi Arabia’s ultra-conservative Wahabi clergy, to signal that they no longer determine every aspect of the country’s life and values; now, he is, and they are not, in charge.
His record, however, is profoundly compromised. He is eager to present to the world a modernising, liberalising face — but this revolution is carried out with archaic brutality: women are now permitted to drive, but the Prince’s sister, who long championed the movement, was arrested and never seen again. All reforms must be attributed to him, and to him alone. All political debate or criticism is ruthlessly suppressed.
The Saudi’s oil-based wealth is so central to the world’s economy that he is fawned upon by the West. It is the age-old political moral problem: how much must you hold your nose and deal constructively, in pursuit of long-term greater good, with those whose methods you abhor?
An entirely contrary route to transformation was profiled in Brian May: The badgers, the farmers and me (BBC2, from 23 August). Queen’s legendary guitarist and astronomer has opposed the Government’s policy of killing badgers to eradicate bovine TB. But now, rather than fight farmers, he works alongside them. He has shared their distress when their cattle, if the statutory tests prove TB-positive, are immediately killed.
A few farms have joined his own research: hitherto unimagined scrupulous farmyard hygiene appears to eradicate the disease. Slurry spread on the fields suggests an existential twist, the exact opposite of official policy: it’s cows who spread TB to badgers.
A brilliantly illuminating and provoking new sitcom has burst upon our screens. We Might Regret This (BBC2, from 19 August) is written by and stars Kyla Harris. Her real-life multiple disability both is and is not the show’s heart: her 24-hour special needs are eclipsed by her wonderfully ordinary emotions and sparkling wit.