By Erich Follath and Georg Mascolo
GENEVA, IN THE FRENCH-SPEAKING PART OF SWITZERLAND, AT THE BAR IN THE FIVE-STAR HOTEL LA RÉSERVE. The bar offers an impressive view of the lake and its snow-covered banks. We have an appointment with Osama's sister-in-law, Carmen bin Laden.
She arrives precisely on time. "I hate unpunctuality," she says, dropping her fur onto the arm of her chair and, with an alert, almost furtive look in her eyes, and observing her surrounding, as if she were expecting trouble and had to keep her guard up. She is an attractive woman who seems to draw attention to herself, the type of woman who is eternally in her late 30s, perfectly put together, from her face to her figure to her wardrobe. But despite her appearance, she doesn't come across as a Chanel doll. And despite the willpower she must have needed in the past, especially during her seven years in Saudi Arabia, she also exudes a sense of fragility.
Her father was a wealthy Swiss businessman and her mother the child of an upper-class Iranian family, and Carmen never lacked anything money could buy. But her parents' marriage failed just as she was entering school and, like so many children of divorce, she felt responsible. What fascinated Carmen most about Yeslam bin Laden when she met him in her early 20s was his self-confidence, but his good looks and clearly unlimited financial resources were also a plus.
While she felt that her years studying in the United States were carefree, the years spent in Jeddah after her marriage to Yeslam were nothing short of martyrdom. Living in the family clan's environment, she was able to observe first-hand the oppression of women and the indoctrination of children. For Carmen, it was unbearable not to be allowed to drive a car, or to be required to obtain her husband's permission whenever she wanted to travel. "The Saudi Arabian Wahhabites are the luxury version of the Taliban," says Carmen bin Laden.
She rarely saw Osama. She noticed him because he turned away in horror when she opened the house door: "I was unveiled, and he was afraid of the sight." The family saw OBL as fanatically pious -- and he was also admired for the same reason. But Carmen thought he was odd. She says that Osama's young wife, Najwa, was not even permitted to give her baby a bottle when it was very hot, because the merciless father felt that the bottle's nipple was "haram" -- impure in a religious sense.
The outsider observed the trench warfare that was taking place for power within the family dynasty, a battle in which her husband, son number 10, soon moved to the top. "The daily realty within the family was jealousy, envy and intrigue," she says. "But the all-powerful Islamic traditions of Wahhabism ensure that no one is excluded from the clan. No individual destiny is more important than the shared system of values."
This is why Carmen bin Laden believes it is impossible that the brothers have severed all ties with Osama. "No matter what he has done, they cannot disown him -- it would be a violation of the Sharia laws." And because of the close relationships between the royal family and the construction company, Carmen also believes that there are still secret links among Osama, various princes in senior government positions and leading religious scholars.
Carmen had little difficulty separating from Yeslam. "He became more and more Saudi, more intolerant, especially when we left Jeddah in 1984 and began living in Switzerland." After publishing a critical book about her experiences two years ago, she no longer maintains any contact with Yeslam or anyone in the bin Laden clan. Now she is working on a second book -- using documents she says will shed light on the bin Ladin's financial dealings and dubious transactions in tax havens.
She has never considered dropping her married name. "It would have looked as though my daughters and I were plagued by a bad conscience," she says. Even after divorcing Yeslam, she continues to fight for an adequate financial arrangement, "for the daughters," she says. Carmen bin Laden is proud of the fact that her three daughters have stayed with her. The youngest, Nur, 18, still lives at home and goes to school in Geneva, where she is a year away from graduation. Nadja, 27, studies design at a university in Geneva. Waffa, 29, earned a law degree from Columbia University and commutes between New York and London.
"My uncle's terrorist attack on Sept. 11, 2001 was also directly against me personally," says Waffa. Although she was in Geneva at the time of the attacks, her New York apartment, where she spends most of her time, was only about a mile from the Twin Towers.
Waffa, born in Los Angeles, is an American citizen and a vocal champion of everything OBL detests: Western open-mindedness in matters of faith, music and fashion. British tabloids describe Waffa as an "erotic-exotic brunette" who has become a "fixture on the London club scene." There has also been talk of a potential career as a pop singer, after friends introduced Waffa to Nellee Hooper, who has produced Madonna's and Björk's albums. Waffa has already recorded demos of what insiders have dubbed catchy East-West ethno-pop.
But Waffa bin Laden does not feel drawn to the spotlight, at least as she claims. She is primarily interested in finding a job in a law firm. After all, she says, she does have a law degree. She is convinced that her lack of success on the job market is solely attributable to her family name: "After all, who wants Osama bin Laden's niece as their legal advisor?" Manager Simon Coldwell also believes that she should think carefully before embarking on a career as a pop star: "There is only one surname that's less well-suited to launching a pop career -- Hitler."
THE VILLAGE OF DIR ON THE SOUTHERN SLOPES OF THE HINDUKUSH MOUNTAINS, JUST BELOW THE LOWARI PASS. The village is little more than a wretched, dusty group of huts at the end of the world, in Pakistan's Northwest Frontier Province, a place shaped by "Pashtunwali," the code of honor of warlike tribes and Islamic loyalties. Tribal law offers unconditional protection for guests, even at the risk of one's own life, but also gives rise to gruesome blood feuds for perceived injustices and any form of insult.
Dir is famous throughout the region for its sharp knives and the Kalashnikov knockoffs that every young man older than 14 carries in the streets. It's also known for smuggling along dozens of hidden paths across the border into Afghanistan, only 40 kilometers away. Asmar, the Afghan village on the other side of the border, is the place where Osama bin Laden was last seen by credible witnesses -- well over a year ago (whereas his last taped message was recorded only five months ago).
The world's number one terrorist has moved on. Some intelligence experts believe he has gone north into the remote Wakhan region, with its jagged mountains and thousands of caves in which to hide. Others believe he is in the rugged mountainous Khost region south of here, on either side of the border town of Parachinar.
It seems difficult to believe that OBL can move around in this region entirely without the knowledge of Pakistani intelligence and military officials. American special forces are repeatedly seeing the same pattern: Whenever they believe they are close to bin Laden's followers in the border region, someone tips off the terrorists -- presumably high-ranking sympathizers within the ranks of Pakistani intelligence or military.
His mother Hamida's phone line in the Middle East is constantly monitored, on the off chance that Osama will call, enabling agents to track his whereabouts. The National Security Agency, America's enormous spy agency, obtained Osama's satellite telephone number in 1996, and its computers recorded every call made from Osama's number, 00873-682505331, but the number is long since defunct. Hundreds of calls were recorded, conversations with contacts in Saudi Arabia, Sudan and Pakistan. But no one spoke with Osama as frequently as his mother, Hamida. He apparently last spoke with Hamida in the spring of 2001, a few months before 9/11. In the very brief conversation Osama told his mother that he would not be able to call again for a long time, a remark that seemed cryptic to the agents listening in at the time, especially when Osama added that "great events are about to take place." At the time, US President George W. Bush was so convinced that this would be the way to catch the terrorist leader that he told the Emir of Qatar: "We know that he'll call his mother one day -- and then we'll get him."
Hamida herself has remained loyal to her son. "I disapprove of the ambitions the press ascribe to him," she said in 2003, "but I am satisfied with Osama, and I pray to God that He will guide him along the right path."
Said bin Laden, one of OBL's older sons and now on Washington's Top Twenty list of terrorists being sought worldwide, is also presumably under electronic surveillance. Two years ago, the Iranian authorities arrested Said as he was crossing the border from Afghanistan, and are apparently holding him, together with three other high-ranking members of al-Qaida, as a bargaining chip for negotiations with Washington.
Some American investigators believe that their best chances lie in keeping an eye on a village in Yemen's Hadramaut region, not far from the birthplace of the family patriarch, Mohammed bin Ladin. According to Western intelligence sources, a 20-year-old Yemeni woman and her child recently came to the village from Pakistan, and was taken in by her relatives. The two-year-old child is apparently another offspring of Osama bin Laden. If the information is correct, this would demonstrate that, even after 9/11, the world's most-wanted terrorist has not been leading the monastic life of a hermit.
A terrorist as a caring father of a family? As recently as 2000, OBL said the following to an interviewer: "I thank God that he has allowed my family to understand my path. They are praying for me."
He also values the blessing of his father, who he transformed posthumously into an Islamic fighter. "When he did some work in Jerusalem, he tried to have bulldozers converted into tanks so he could attack Israel -- he was disappointed when the plan failed."
Experts say that it would be a mistake to apply Western patterns of thought to Middle Eastern reasoning. According to the Wahhabite world view, those who declare war on the West and have killed Western civilians can still love their neighbors at home.
Translated from the German by Christopher Sultan
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