On my second day as Britain’s ambassador to Yemen, just after the so-called ‘Arab Spring’ in January 2011, I visited one of the capital’s more important tribal sheikhs. This was not, by diplomatic standards, an entirely routine call. I had 23 armed bodyguards, an advance reconnaissance party, and a considerable convoy of vehicles for what was, in geographical terms, a fairly short journey through the capital, Sanaa.

The precautions were justified. My predecessor but one had been attacked with an RPG by a young terrorist acting on behalf of al-Qaeda in the Arabian Peninsula. Yemen has always been a country where hospitality and danger sit surprisingly comfortably alongside one another.

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What I remember most vividly from that first lunch, however, was neither security nor terrorism but lobster. It had been driven up from Hodeidah, the nearest port, thousands of feet below Sanaa, which sits improbably high in the mountains. Yemen is a country of extraordinary contrasts: ancient, impoverished and dangerous, but also beautiful and unexpectedly generous. 

Before arriving in Sanaa, I had only a sketchy knowledge of Yemen’s extraordinary historical importance. I knew that it was one of the oldest centres of civilisation in Arabia, but I had not fully appreciated the extent to which the country had been a wellspring of Arab culture, commerce and power.

Three thousand years ago, Yemen was part of the Queen of Sheba’s empire. According to the Bible she travelled north to Jerusalem to test the wisdom of King Solomon, bringing gold, spices and precious stones. The two monarchs represented wealthy and sophisticated powers at opposite ends of the great trading routes.

That historical context matters when looking at Yemen today. The country could be a trigger for........

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