The Great War of Our Time: The CIA's Fight Against Terrorism--From Al Qa'ida to ISIS

by Michael Morell

  There wasn’t time to investigate the claims enough to achieve complete certainty. If they were dismissed and a number of transatlantic flights were successfully attacked, the US government would rightly be vilified for ignoring the threat. So the Homeland Security Council ordered the cancellation of some transoceanic British Airways and Air France flights.

  The whole matter up until that time was a closely held secret. Several days before Christmas the number two on the analytic side of the Agency called me and walked me through the story. He wanted to make sure that if the Brits raised this with me, I would know what they were talking about. British analysts, like CIA analysts, were not at all convinced about the methodology or conclusions of the theory.

  Still the administration went ahead with mitigation steps. The flight cancellations caused some serious disruptions and widespread concern beyond a few specific flights. Just after Christmas my family and our friends the Hynds were in London for the holidays. The Hynds had flown British Airways, and when it came time for them to return home they asked me if it was safe for them to fly. I was stuck in the middle of a classic ethical problem. As an intelligence officer, you cannot selectively provide warnings or advice. You cannot provide advice to friends that is different from the guidance that the government is providing to the general public. And in this case there was a big difference between what our government had to do for the sake of prudence and what most analysts, including me, believed—that the threat reporting was bogus. So in response to the question I mumbled something like, “Well, there are a lot of people working to make those flights safe.”

  In the end the Hynds departed as planned on British Airways. Joe, Shannon, and their four daughters were surprised to see US jet fighters escort them on their entry into US airspace and through their safe landing at Dulles Airport. When Shannon called my wife with the news, I said, “See, people were working to keep them safe.”

  A few months later I learned of the shaky provenance of the original warning and that the analysis had turned out to be highly questionable. In fact, this turned out to be just plain poor analysis as well as poor oversight of that analysis. But the incident amply illustrates the mind-set at the time and the fact that when it came to the terrorist threat, the attitude was “You can’t be too cautious.”

  * * *

  What was very real as my time as the representative to the British analytic community proceeded was the growth and rebuilding of al Qa‘ida in the FATA region of Pakistan. Along with Iraq, the rebirth of al Qa‘ida was at the top of the priority list for us and the British. Al Qa‘ida had made its intentions to target Western Europe clear. In the US we tend to look at 9/11 as a singularly American event—but in fact more Brits died in the Twin Towers than in any other single terrorist attack in British history. Our British colleagues were certain that Bin Ladin was not done with them.

  As al Qa‘ida spent more time in the FATA, it started building close ties with local militant groups, some of which were Afghan and had crossed the border to avoid the NATO troops in Afghanistan. As al Qa‘ida settled in, the group’s rebuilding began.

  Because of the great difficulties of working in the region—and the time it took for the US to figure out how to do so—al Qa‘ida regained its footing. The pressure was off al Qa‘ida during much of this period, and it took advantage of that. And by mid-2005 the group was strong enough to conduct sophisticated operations in the West, and by mid-2006 it had regained enough capability to again conduct large 9/11-style attacks against the US homeland. The rebound was surprising and quick for a group that was continuously on the move and had lost most of its senior leadership.

  * * *

  In my assignment as CIA’s representative to British analysts, I participated in a number of conversations between Agency analysts from our Counterterrorism Center in which we shared our growing concerns with the British. Perhaps the most important such conversation happened during a fall 2003 visit from the deputy director of the analytic side of the Center, Philip Mudd. Mudd has a well-deserved reputation for being direct and pointed, with little interest in caveats. His message was profound—we were seeing the resurgence of al Qa‘ida, and if steps were not taken, it would soon rebuild the capabilities it had had on 9/11. Mudd brought along analysts to walk through the details—al Qa‘ida was coalescing in certain cities in the FATA, ingratiating itself with local militants, receiving ample funding again, and once more training operatives for attacks. It was a stark warning.

  In March 2004, ten bombs aboard commuter trains in Madrid exploded (three other trains had bombs aboard as well, but they did not detonate). With 191 people killed and over eighteen hundred wounded, it was the worst terrorist attack in Spanish history—and it occurred just three days before Spain’s general elections. Because the attacks were well coordinated and nearly simultaneous, the assumption of much of the world was that this had been the work of al Qa‘ida. But the Spanish investigation and our own intelligence could turn up nothing linking the attack to Bin Ladin and his leadership in the FATA. The attackers had been a group of Moroccans, Syrians, and Algerians, whose only association with al Qa‘ida was that they had been motivated by Bin Ladin’s message. It was the first significant al Qa‘ida–inspired attack. We, and our British friends, now had to worry about plots hatched not only by Bin Ladin and his associates but also by others who admired but had never met him.

  Porter Goss, who became CIA director in the fall of 2004, was so worried that we did not have a good enough window into what was happening in the FATA that he ordered a surge of resources against al Qa‘ida, the largest since 9/11. We essentially flooded the zone to maximize our chances of collecting valuable intelligence on al Qa‘ida’s resurgence.

  * * *

  In early July 2005, I was in London. It was a cool morning and I was at a meeting of UK analysts at the British Ministry of Defence. Shortly before nine a.m., someone walked into the room and simply said, “There have been multiple explosions in London.” At that point everyone got up and left. The meeting was over. The traffic on the streets was horrendous as cars and people flowed away from what I would soon learn was where three suicide bombs had exploded aboard London Underground trains. A short while later a fourth bomb would explode on a double-decker bus in Tavistock Square. Altogether, fifty-two people were killed and nearly eight hundred injured.

  The first thing I did was pick up the phone and call Mary Beth, who was in Florida with the kids for a summer visit with her parents. It was about five a.m. in Naples when I woke her. “Turn on the TV,” I said. “I’m all right. Love you. Gotta go.” Then I hung up. The rest of the day was spent discussing with the British our early assessments of the attacks.

  Finally, late that night, I decided to get some sleep. I could have walked, but that evening, because I was physically and emotionally exhausted, I elected to take the bus. What struck me when I boarded was how absolutely normal all the passengers were acting. This was just twelve hours after a suicide bomber had blown up an identical vehicle fewer than two and a half miles away. Yet the bus was full, and no one seemed nervous. No one was eyeing the other passengers suspiciously. This was the legendary British “Keep Calm and Carry On” attitude at work—borne of surviving the Blitz by Hitler and hundreds of IRA bombings over the years.

  A couple of days later, I made an appointment to see my main contact on the Cabinet Office Assessments Staff. He did not seem thrilled to see me. Apparently every intelligence service on the planet had lined up, trying to get briefings on what the British had discovered so far about the attacks, so that they could impress their headquarters back home. He and his colleagues were too busy analyzing intelligence to be conducting briefings. Sensing his unease, I tried to put his concerns to rest. “I’m not here for a briefing,” I said. “I simply came to express my condolences.” This was a small but heartfelt gesture. I remembered well George Tenet telling President Bush during the PDB briefing on September 13, 2001, that on the previous day Sir Richard Dearlove,
chief of MI6, and several top British intelligence officials had flown to the United States for just an evening in order to pay their respects to the US intelligence community. That gesture had touched us all deeply and, in my own small way, I wanted to offer similar support. With that explanation the mood in the room changed dramatically, and my contact graciously gave me an hour of his time.

  As I worked with British analysts in the days and weeks that followed, I was struck by the relative absence of finger-pointing in the UK. British authorities were quick to do their police and intelligence work, but British politicians and the British media did not seem to share the zeal of their American counterparts in similar circumstances to find someone (other than the terrorists) to blame. This seemed to be part of their normal makeup. From the start the Brits did an excellent job of conducting an investigation into the terrorist cells that had perpetrated the attack, but they did not rush into the second-guessing game. It wasn’t until October 2010 that they initiated an independent inquiry into the attacks. Called a “coroner’s inquest,” it eventually made some recommendations in May 2011 for process improvement but fell well short of the finger-pointing that we saw in America after events ranging from 9/11 to the attack on US interests in Benghazi, Libya, in 2012.

  The British assessment—and our own—made very clear that the 7/7 attacks in London had been the work of Bin Ladin and al Qa‘ida. This was not a Madrid situation. This was a group trained in the FATA and our concerns about al Qa‘ida’s growing strength had had their first manifestation on the battlefield.

  * * *

  While the issues on which I worked with the British most closely were very serious ones—Iraq and al Qa‘ida—my time in the job did have some unique perks. The most significant was an invitation from Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth for Mary Beth and me to attend a reception at Buckingham Palace. Interestingly, there was no phone number on the invitation for an RSVP. When I inquired about how to tell the palace that we would be honored to attend, I was told that “there is no need to RSVP as no one says no to an invitation from the queen.” When I relayed this to Mary Beth, she noted that this is not adequately explained in Miss Manners.

  The next issue was what to wear. The invitation stated I was to wear “evening dress”—that is, a black tuxedo with tails along with a white tie and white vest. So off to the rental shop I went. The invitation also noted that Mary Beth should wear a full-length gown with gloves above the elbows for a sleeveless gown or regular gloves for a long-sleeve gown. The invite also made clear a black dress was definitely not acceptable—because black is reserved for mourning. Since black was the only color in Mary Beth’s limited repertoire of long gowns, she had to improvise by also renting her dress—at a uniquely named shop in London called One Night Stand.

  At the rental shop, Mary Beth was met by two lovely women who kept about eighty different gowns in a whole range of sizes. Chief gown renter Joanna welcomed Mary Beth, looked her up and down, snatched a lovely crimson beaded gown from a rack and said, “Right, dear, try this one.” Mary Beth barely had it on before Joanna was draping a faux diamond choker around her neck and wrapping a crimson shawl around her shoulders. It was an instant rental. Mary Beth asked how much the dress would cost to purchase, and she almost choked when she heard the answer. It was more than our car cost. These were high-end gowns.

  Dressed to the hilt, we arrived at the appointed hour at the palace. Our taxi drove us through layers of security and we found ourselves walking up the red-carpeted Grand Entrance. Mary Beth had been on a tourist visit to the palace but this time, she said, the feeling was completely different—with bejeweled guests arriving and with the Queen’s Guard standing at attention in their dress uniforms. The palace itself was opulence defined: sixty-foot ceilings, gilded molding, and master works of art seemingly everywhere (we passed a Rembrandt at one point). It was jaw-dropping.

  After drinks and dinner, we were directed to the Picture Gallery, where we were told we should wait for the queen to greet us. Eventually, three of the Queen’s Guard marched through the room, stomping large and dangerous-looking staffs on the floor to signify the arrival of the royals. First to appear was Sophie, the Countess of Wessex (the wife of the queen’s youngest son). Sophie, the warm-up act, was lovely and outgoing and was wearing a tiara with a huge aquamarine stone as a focal point. Sophie was followed by the queen, looking appropriately regal. She was joined by her husband, Philip, the Duke of Edinburgh, and by Prince Charles and Camilla, the latter of whom stole the show. Camilla was warm, gracious, and outgoing, and she insisted on shaking everyone’s hand, gushing about what a great time she had just had in America. Mary Beth instantly became a fan for life.

  With that, the party—along with our fairy-tale evening—was over. It was really amazing to come out the front door of the palace and view, from inside the gates, the gold statue of the winged goddess Nike. Mary Beth said, “The queen sure has a great view from her bedroom.” I started thinking about al Qa‘ida again.

  * * *

  My time as the representative to the British analytic community served to deepen my belief, forged in the crucible of 9/11, that the fight against terrorists was the place to be. So I was thrilled in the fall of 2005 when I was offered a chance to serve as the deputy director of CIA’s Counterterrorism Center. But before I could undertake that mission, the bureaucracy of Washington got in the way.

  In late 2005, Philip Zelikow, counselor to Secretary of State Condi Rice, asked to meet with me. After we’d chatted for a while about the lessons learned from the Iraq intelligence failure, Zelikow said to me, “The secretary would like to have you serve as the head of INR [the State Department’s Bureau of Intelligence and Research]. Are you interested?” That would be a significant move up the ladder for me—it was a presidentially appointed, Senate-confirmed position—and it would give me a seat at the table as head of one of the agencies of the intelligence community. I asked for a day or two to think it over.

  After reflection, however, I picked up the phone and told Zelikow that I had already committed to a lower-level position as the deputy director of CTC and that it would be inappropriate to back out. I also told him that combating terrorism was where my heart was.

  The very next afternoon, General Mike Hayden, the principal deputy director of national intelligence and a future director of CIA, phoned me. Hayden was, and is, someone I respect immensely.

  “Michael,” he said, “I want you to know that when you got that job offer on behalf of Secretary Rice, it was not just the secretary asking—it was John Negroponte [the DNI] and me asking you as well.” I was now in a fix. The job I really wanted was in CTC, but the two most important men in the US intelligence community—technically the superiors of the director of CIA—wanted me to go to the State Department.

  So I called the head of the analytic directorate at CIA—my boss in my assignment at the time—and asked what he thought I should do. “Let me get back to you,” he said. Although I knew nothing about it at the time, soon CIA’s deputy director, a Navy vice admiral and SEAL by the name of Bert Calland, had picked up the phone and attempted to chew out General Hayden for having the temerity to talk to a CIA officer about a job without first going to Director Goss or him.

  This all happened during a period when there was enormous tension between CIA and the newly created DNI apparatus that had been placed above it. For years the head of CIA had also been the head of the entire intelligence community, and now that had changed. Outside of CIA, the view was that the Agency had appropriately been knocked down a peg. Inside CIA, the view was that DNI was demanding changes that were either duplicative of what CIA was already doing or were actually putting the country at some risk. There were many issues to be worked out, and there was a fight over almost every one of them.

  But in any case, Calland’s move was not a smart one bureaucratically. Hayden told the admiral that, as the DNI’s number two, he could talk to me anytime he wanted about anything he wanted. For some reason, how
ever, the CIA senior leadership decided that it was annoyed at me for what had transpired.

  OK, I figured—I guess I am going to the State Department. I relayed my decision to Zelikow, who invited me to meet with Deputy Secretary of State Robert Zoellick—whom I did not know and who wanted to meet me before the nomination process began.

  My interview with Zoellick went extremely well, as we discussed different parts of the globe and differing approaches to analysis. The discussions with the staff from the Office of Presidential Personnel were another matter. These were going very well until I offered up a possible problem. At one point I told the staff that I had been interviewed by Senate Select Committee on Intelligence staff regarding the flawed intelligence leading up to the invasion of Iraq. I explained that during sessions with the staff I’d said that I believed that members of the vice president’s staff had overstepped their boundaries by trying to inappropriately influence the analysis on the question of al Qa‘ida’s relationship to Iraq. I could tell immediately that this was going to be an issue from the administration’s point of view—possibly even bringing an end to the process.

  A couple of days later I got a call from Zelikow, who simply said, “Michael, this isn’t going to work.” My career at the State Department was over before it had begun. And unfortunately, the job I really wanted in CTC had by that time been given to someone else. And I was now persona non grata at CIA. The view among Goss’s aides—not of Goss himself—was that I had been disloyal in agreeing to accept the State Department job. I ended up taking another job outside CIA, at the National Counterterrorism Center (NCTC), a new organization staffed with people from across the intelligence community. With a name guaranteed to sow confusion across government, NCTC is quite distinct from CIA’s CTC. I served as the head of analysis for NCTC, trying to ensure that nothing got lost in the seam between domestic intelligence and foreign intelligence with regard to terrorism. It was a good job—but nothing like the ones I had just missed out on.