The Exile

by Adrian Levy

  When they returned to Tora Bora, the Mauritanian realized how little progress he had made when Osama immediately sent word to the Syrian, who was in London, asking him to dispatch foreign news crews up to the lair in the Afghan mountains so that he could brief them about a coming war.

  “Around now Sheikh Osama fell in love with the media and was quite enchanted by it,” the Mauritanian recalled bitterly.18 He was going to war against the West and would shout it from the mountaintops of Afghanistan irrespective of what the shura or the Taliban wanted.

  Abu Hafs the Commander, who had been with Osama since the very start, was also suspicious of men he saw as outsiders. He held the Syrian in high regard, although he did not understand most of what he said. Mokhtar, however, he detested.

  What galled the Commander was the fact that he had unleashed this man’s monstrous ego by sponsoring him when he first emerged in Peshawar in 1985. Back then Abu Hafs had been drawn by Mokhtar’s glad-handing confidence. From what he knew, this salesman and fund-raiser had arrived in Peshawar directly from the United States, where he had been sent from Kuwait to study at great cost to his Pakistani-born parents. Riled by the petty racism he had encountered on campus in a small American town, where he had felt smothered by its Christianity, Mokhtar had endured taunts and name-calling from his fellow freshmen who referred to him as the “Abbie Dhabbie.”19

  When he saw on the news that an Islamist insurgent force, the mujahideen, was receiving funding to take on the Red Army in Afghanistan, he was enthralled by the David-and-Goliath narrative and saw it as an odyssey to restore his sense of self. It might even turn a profit.

  In Peshawar, Mokhtar had rapidly gained a reputation as a useful hustler who could shake down donors, channeling cash to Afghan warlords.20 He seldom prayed, preferring to hold court at long discussions over sweetened black tea about the most effective methods of killing, surrounded by an ever-growing gang of admirers.

  After the Soviets and CIA withdrew in 1989, Mokhtar began thinking about settling his score with America. Over the next couple of years he absorbed new skills while his nephew, Ramzi Yousef, who had studied electrical engineering in Wales, emerged as a proactive mujahid with a plan. In 1993, Yousef bombed the World Trade Center in New York, killing six and injuring more than one thousand, an operation that aimed to shatter the aura of American invincibility. Mokhtar, who had no role in the attack, was overjoyed. Osama, who was in Sudan lecturing the government on agriculture productivity and the pitiful state of its roads, barely noticed.

  However, by the time Mokhtar turned up in Tora Bora, everyone close to Osama had come to appreciate the audacity of the World Trade Center attack and how close it had come to causing mayhem. Being introduced as an uncle of Ramzi Yousef—who a year after his World Trade Center attack had successfully placed a small bomb on a Philippine Airlines flight, killing one passenger—to test out a much larger plan, was enough to gain an audience.

  Osama listened as the squat visitor, speaking Kuwaiti Arabic in his squeaky high-pitched voice, flattered him before laying out a plan so ambitious it silenced everyone in the room. Adopting his nephew’s idea of turning planes into flying bombs, Mokhtar suggested they hijack a dozen U.S. airliners and crash them into the Pentagon, the U.S. Capitol, the White House, CIA headquarters, the FBI, and the World Trade Center, killing thousands in the air and on the ground. He and Ramzi, whose mother was Mokhtar’s sister, had until recently been working on another iteration of this—setting timed devices to explode simultaneously on multiple U.S.-bound transatlantic flights. The plot had been code-named “Bojinka,” a word that meant explosion in Serbo-Croat. Ramzi’s capture in Islamabad had put paid to those plans and so Mokhtar was now searching for a new partner.

  The plot seemed nonsensical to the Mauritanian. Abu Hafs the Commander dismissed it outright. One of those present at the meeting warned Osama that Mokhtar was “a madman from a mental hospital.”21

  But Osama disagreed. He liked his visitor’s ambition and scale. Unlike any other Pakistani that he had met during his long association with the country, Mokhtar was self-starting, resourceful, and a details man. For once here was someone who had thought everything through. All that stopped Osama from proceeding was the scale of Mokhtar’s demands: $500,000 in cash, a team of suicide bombers, and logistical support—none of which Al Qaeda could presently provide. As a sop, he invited Mokhtar to join Al Qaeda and move his family to Afghanistan, requisite demonstrations of supplication for a new recruit. Mokhtar returned to Karachi. He would do it on his terms only.

  After Osama, encouraged by Dr. Ayman al-Zawahiri, issued a fatwa in 1998 against “the Americans and their allies,” ruling that it was “an individual duty for every Muslim” to kill them, Mokhtar returned to Afghanistan.22 This time, he was welcomed by al-Zawahiri, who had recently returned from a spell in Russian detention, where some alleged he had been recruited by the Russian security services to plot attacks against America.23 Mokhtar ingratiated himself with Osama’s circle, replacing Al Qaeda’s outdated computers and upgrading its media operation by teaching the brothers how to use a camcorder. He transformed Al Qaeda’s embryonic press center, bringing in a new computer-literate team that included a fellow expat Pakistani from Kuwait. Ibrahim Saeed Ahmad had grown up with Mokhtar and had several older brothers who had fought in the Soviet jihad. In Al Qaeda circles he was known by the kunya Abu Ahmad al-Kuwaiti and for his noticeable speech impediment.24

  Mokhtar presented a slimmed-down version of his earlier plan—using just four hijacked jets to destroy four targets. Since funds had started to flow in as a result of the fatwa, Osama gave him some seed money. However, as he was now in open conflict with his shura over his refusal to abide by Mullah Omar’s request that he maintain a low profile, Osama put Mokhtar’s plan in motion without telling them. Only Abu Hafs the Commander was informed as Osama and Dr. al-Zawahiri secretly reached out to potential sponsors in the Gulf.

  By 1999, several would-be hijackers had been recruited, mostly Saudi nationals who could obtain U.S. visas more easily than Yemenis or Pakistanis. Mokhtar asked his friend, the freelancing jihad logistician Abu Zubaydah, to supervise their transit, organize passports, and send them for secret training at the Abu Obaida camp that lay just beyond the perimeter wall of Tarnak Qila, although he did not tell Zubaydah what the men were training for.25

  Mokhtar and Zubaydah had known each other since 1991. After suffering a shrapnel injury to his head in Gardez, where Afghan warlords were fighting one another, Zubaydah had retreated to Peshawar, where he set up a mujahid facilitation network behind the façade of a honey stall in Board Bazaar, a busy shopping district in University Town. He soon came across Mokhtar, who used a honey-processing factory in Karachi as a front for moving recruits and material up to Peshawar.26

  Now, Zubaydah was asked to tap into links he had with Islamists all over Europe, including his main contact in the United Kingdom, the Palestinian preacher Abu Qatada, who advocated jihad from the pulpit at Finsbury Park Mosque in London and collected donations for the mujahideen.27

  When George W. Bush was elected U.S. president in November 2000, Mokhtar and Osama were delighted. “My father was so happy,” recalled son Omar, who was still with him at that time. “This is the kind of a president he needs—one who will attack and spend money and break the country.”28

  Soon after, Mokhtar’s first would-be pilots graduated from Al Qaeda’s Abu Obaida camp, and, without informing the shura, Mokhtar escorted them down to Karachi, putting them up at his safe house in the busy shopping district of Tariq Road.

  Here, and at several other locations across the city, the men were tutored using flight simulation programs by Mokhtar’s childhood friend Abu Ahmad al-Kuwaiti. He also taught them English, how to use the Internet, and the layouts of passenger aircraft—highlighting the weak points in cabin security. They developed a simple code. Mokhtar was answerable to “the Professor,” aka Osama. Civilian targets were “schools” and military targets “universi
ties.”

  June 2001, Tarnak Qila, Kandahar, Afghanistan

  By the summer of 2001, everyone in Al Qaeda was aware that something was in the offing. New faces appeared, others went off, people talked of the “big plan” or the “Planes Operation,” and the ones in the know were frantic.

  One night, the Mauritanian received an unexpected visitor: Dr. Ayman al-Zawahiri. The two men were rivals for Osama’s attention and yet the Egyptian doctor came asking for “guidance.”29

  Dr. al-Zawahiri revealed that Osama had requested that his organization—Egyptian Islamic Jihad—formally merge with Al Qaeda ahead of the coming operation. He said he was concerned about the implications for the ongoing standoff between Osama and Mullah Omar. Siding with the Sheikh over the Commander of the Faithful might weaken the Islamic Emirate of Afghanistan and the Muslim ummah. Was this permissible under sharia law?

  The Mauritanian saw through Dr. al-Zawahiri’s maneuvering. He had no genuine interest in maintaining cordial relations with the Taliban, who he clearly regarded as country cousins, but he was not yet sure he could get away with causing a religious rupture by opposing a man who some regarded as a caliph in waiting.

  The Mauritanian could also see that Osama was so determined to get Mokhtar’s Planes Operation approved by the Al Qaeda leadership committee that he intended to stack it with new members from Egyptian Islamic Jihad who were blindly loyal to him. When the Mauritanian refused to adjudicate, Dr. al-Zawahiri went home frustrated.

  A few days later, Osama announced that Al Qaeda’s formal merger with Egyptian Islamic Jihad had gone ahead, giving Dr. al-Zawahiri’s group six of the nine seats on the shura.30 Its next meeting would take place on the last Wednesday of June and cover all future operations, he said.

  When they gathered, Osama was in a bullish mood, looking expectantly at the new supportive faces on the council.31 After clearing his throat to silence the room, he revealed what everyone suspected, that Al Qaeda was preparing to strike the United States—again.

  The room filled with muttering. Osama was asked to give more details. He shook his head. For security reasons he could not reveal precise plans. Several shura members said they could not back what they did not know. The Syrian, who had returned from London, where he had been helping Abu Qatada run his magazine and publicize the Algerian jihad front, was one of them.

  “Whatever is being planned,” he warned, “will undermine Al Qaeda and alienate the Muslim community.”32 The movement was veering dangerously off track. “Al Qaeda is not an organization, it is not a group, nor do we want it to be,” he said. “It is a call, a reference, a methodology.”33 Al Qaeda had to stand above the bloodshed and appear to be the “best of the best.” Its goal was to stimulate other groups to commit acts in the name of jihad, not perform these acts itself.

  Osama looked stunned.

  Someone else demanded to know why Al Qaeda was not targeting Israel, something that Mullah Omar had recently given his blessing for.

  Abu Hafs the Commander, who was committed to the operation, spoke: “Attacking America, a sponsor of Jerusalem, is tantamount to a strike on Israel.” Any attack on America came with the implicit support of Mullah Omar. America and Israel were like “one bicycle with two wheels,” he argued, echoing a favorite phrase of Osama’s.34

  His logic got the room talking. The Mauritanian asked to speak. “You are following a path that contradicts sharia, reason, and logic.” Osama looked up. The room hushed. Mahfouz had just broken the etiquette of no public correction or criticism. He tried to temper his words, mumbling, “God knows best—maybe both of us are wrong.”

  Osama eyed him furiously as Mahfouz continued. The sharia committee had met and debated the idea of an attack on America and unanimously opposed it. Not only would it be illegal without Mullah Omar’s blessing, but also thousands of innocent people might die. Heads nodded in agreement, even among the new Egyptian inductees.

  Emboldened and with his heart beating fast, the Mauritanian stepped up his attack. “In political affairs you do not obey the Taliban’s emir even though you believe him to be legitimate. In regulatory matters you do not accept the opinion of the shura. And in religious affairs you do not comply with the legal committee’s writ.” Al Qaeda was no longer a democratic organization but the court of a king.

  Everyone dropped their gaze to the floor as Osama shot the Mauritanian a threatening look. “It is not the prerogative of Mullah Omar to prevent me from embarking on jihad,” he snapped. “These operations will be our gateway to a solid future, one that is of benefit to all.”

  Several shura members, including those who had backed the embassy bombings of 1998, weighed in and, to Osama’s amazement, sided with the Mauritanian. “Put it to the vote,” they urged.35

  Osama held up his hand. There would be no more debating, he said. He could see he was losing the room by raising a plan that he would not explain but that could trigger mass casualties and alienate the Taliban. There would be no vote, he said, as the matter had already been decided. He called the meeting to a close.

  The Mauritanian left, too upset to talk. Osama had chosen Mokhtar over men of honor who had stood by him for more than a decade.36

  At the beginning of July 2001, Dr. al-Zawahiri came to see the Mauritanian again. He sat fiddling with his beads before speaking. “Don’t resign,” he said at last. “Stay the course.”

  The Mauritanian shook his head. He did not want to be part of an outfit that “threw Afghanistan into the abyss.” He had had enough of his Sheikh’s grandstanding. Al Qaeda was not his property.

  One week later, the Mauritanian was summoned to see Osama. When he walked in with his resignation letter, Osama embraced him, glancing down at the paper.

  “I hope this,” he nodded at the note, “isn’t your final decision.”

  The Mauritanian felt his eyes brim and excused himself to wash his face. When he returned, Osama sat stone-faced. “If you are certain about resigning,” he said bitterly, “hand it to Dr. Ayman on the way out.” As he left, Osama asked him to keep quiet about his decision. The last thing he needed right now was for the shura’s already depleted morale to be hit by the news of the Mauritanian’s exit.

  By mid-August 2001, Kandahar hummed, as crudely coded messages pinged back and forth from Europe and the United States. On August 21, Mokhtar’s buck-toothed Yemeni sidekick Ramzi bin al-Shibh, who was in Hamburg, received a message from his “online boyfriend” Saeed al-Ghamdi, a twenty-one-year-old “muscle” hijacker, who was living in Florida.

  Al-Ghamdi spelled out the timeline for the operation and confirmed that two military and two civilian targets had been fixed: “The first semester commences in three weeks. Two high schools and two universities … This summer will surely be hot … 19 certificates for private education and four exams. Regards to the Professor. Goodbye.”37

  On August 30, al-Shibh was woken in the early hours by a call from Boston. “A friend of mine gave me a puzzle and I want you to help me out,” said a voice he immediately recognized as Mohamed Atta, his former flatmate in Hamburg and the lead hijacker.

  “Is this a time for puzzles, Mohamed?” he asked sleepily.

  Atta persisted: “Two sticks, a dash and cake with a stick down. What is it?”38

  Al-Shibh feigned indifference in case someone else was listening: “Did you wake me up just to tell me this?”

  But he now knew that the date of the operation had been fixed: 11-9, or, in American styling of dates, 9/11.

  From then it also had a new code name: Holy Tuesday.

  Al-Shibh packed up the Hamburg flat and flew back to Pakistan. Over the border, Osama upped the ante by giving an interview to Saudi MBC TV in which he threatened to launch a bloody operation against the United States: “Islam’s victory is coming.”

  In Washington, President Bush received a highly classified FBI memo warning that it had information Al Qaeda was preparing for “hijackings or other types of attack” on several targets inside the United S
tates, including “federal buildings in New York.” He took little action.

  In Kandahar, Abu Walid al-Masri, a former Al Jazeera journalist who had been assigned to report on Al Qaeda and then joined the movement as a media adviser, sought out Mullah Omar’s closest aides. Osama had signed their death warrants, he feared. “It should be no surprise if we see missiles falling from the skies over our heads at any time,” al-Masri warned the Taliban.39

  October 7, 2001, Kandahar

  Osama had an appointment with Mullah Omar, their first face-to-face meeting since 1998 and their first post-9/11 discussion. Everyone expected it to be a heated affair.

  The rendezvous was set for after al-Isha prayer—the fifth of the five daily prayers—at the Taliban leader’s fortified compound to the west of the city. With its watchtowers, twelve-foot-thick walls, and a mural of paradise, it had replaced Mullah Omar’s old home, which had been devastated by a suicide bomber in 1999—an attack that had killed several members of Mullah Omar’s family, with many believing that Osama had been behind it.40

  Al-Isha came, and Mullah Omar filed into a small mosque at the northern corner of his compound as Osama’s convoy rumbled across the plains toward Kandahar, one hour late but trying to make up time. By the time Omar had finished praying, Osama’s vehicles were stuck in the traffic choking the lanes inside the Old City, and he was still several minutes away from the compound.

  In Islamabad, Robert Grenier, the CIA’s station chief, was watching too, via a live video feed from a drone. At a height of fifty thousand feet, an armed Predator 3034 hovered, the images it relayed showing Omar’s guards coming and going. The drone had been there for two hours already, sending feed to U.S. Central Command (CENTCOM) in Florida and to the Combined Air Operations Centre at Prince Sultan Air Base in Saudi Arabia. Bush officials, the CIA, and military officers could not agree on what to do. Civilians were everywhere, and dropping ordnance on a mosque was taboo. Then someone spotted Mullah Omar. He was unmistakable. Leaving the mosque to return to his private quarters, he was accompanied by several male relatives and an armed guard.