http://www.theatlantic.com/issues/2001/07/gerecht.htm


The Counterterrorist Myth

A former CIA operative explains why the terrorist Usama bin Ladin has little
to fear from American intelligence
 
by Reuel Marc Gerecht
 
.....
 

The United States has spent billions of dollars on counterterrorism since the
U.S. embassy bombings in Tanzania and Kenya, in August of 1998. Tens of
millions have been spent on covert operations specifically targeting Usama
bin Ladin and his terrorist organization, al-Qa'ida. Senior U.S. officials
boldly claim—even after the suicide attack last October on the USS Cole, in
the port of Aden—that the Central Intelligence Agency and the Federal Bureau
of Investigation are clandestinely "picking apart" bin Ladin's organization
"limb by limb." But having worked for the CIA for nearly nine years on Middle
Eastern matters (I left the Directorate of Operations because of frustration
with the Agency's many problems), I would argue that America's
counterterrorism program in the Middle East and its environs is a myth.

Peshawar, the capital of Pakistan's Northwest Frontier, is on the cultural
periphery of the Middle East. It is just down the Grand Trunk Road from the
legendary Khyber Pass, the gateway to Afghanistan. Peshawar is where bin
Ladin cut his teeth in the Islamic jihad, when, in the mid-1980s, he became
the financier and logistics man for the Maktab al-Khidamat, The Office of
Services, an overt organization trying to recruit and aid Muslim, chiefly
Arab, volunteers for the war against the Soviets in Afghanistan. The
friendships and associations made in The Office of Services gave birth to the
clandestine al-Qa'ida, The Base, whose explicit aim is to wage a jihad
against the West, especially the United States.

According to Afghan contacts and Pakistani officials, bin Ladin's men
regularly move through Peshawar and use it as a hub for phone, fax, and modem
communication with the outside world. Members of the embassy-bombing teams in
Africa probably planned to flee back to Pakistan. Once there they would
likely have made their way into bin Ladin's open arms through al-Qa'ida's
numerous friends in Peshawar. Every tribe and region of Afghanistan is
represented in this city, which is dominated by the Pathans, the pre-eminent
tribe in the Northwest Frontier and southern Afghanistan. Peshawar is also a
power base of the Taliban, Afghanistan's fundamentalist rulers. Knowing the
city's ins and outs would be indispensable to any U.S. effort to capture or
kill bin Ladin and his closest associates. Intelligence collection on
al-Qa'ida can't be of much real value unless the agent network covers
Peshawar.

During a recent visit, at sunset, when the city's cloistered alleys go black
except for an occasional flashing neon sign, I would walk through Afghan
neighborhoods. Even in the darkness I had a case officer's worst
sensation—eyes following me everywhere. To escape the crowds I would pop into
carpet, copper, and jewelry shops and every cybercafé I could find. These
were poorly lit one- or two-room walk-ups where young men surfed Western
porn. No matter where I went, the feeling never left me. I couldn't see how
the CIA as it is today had any chance of running a successful
counterterrorist operation against bin Ladin in Peshawar, the Dodge City of
Central Asia.

Westerners cannot visit the cinder-block, mud-brick side of the Muslim
world—whence bin Ladin's foot soldiers mostly come—without announcing who
they are. No case officer stationed in Pakistan can penetrate either the
Afghan communities in Peshawar or the Northwest Frontier's numerous religious
schools, which feed manpower and ideas to bin Ladin and the Taliban, and
seriously expect to gather useful information about radical Islamic
terrorism—let alone recruit foreign agents.

Even a Muslim CIA officer with native-language abilities (and the Agency,
according to several active-duty case officers, has very few operatives from
Middle Eastern backgrounds) could do little more in this environment than a
blond, blue-eyed all-American. Case officers cannot long escape the embassies
and consulates in which they serve. A U.S. official overseas, photographed
and registered with the local intelligence and security services, can't
travel much, particularly in a police-rich country like Pakistan, without the
"host" services' knowing about it. An officer who tries to go native,
pretending to be a true-believing radical Muslim searching for brothers in
the cause, will make a fool of himself quickly.

In Pakistan, where the government's Inter-Services Intelligence Agency and
the ruling army are competent and tough, the CIA can do little if these
institutions are against it. And they are against it. Where the Taliban and
Usama bin Ladin are concerned, Pakistan and the United States aren't allies.
Relations between the two countries have been poor for years, owing to
American opposition to Pakistan's successful nuclear-weapons program and,
more recently, Islamabad's backing of Muslim Kashmiri separatists. Bin
Ladin's presence in Afghanistan as a "guest" of the Pakistani-backed Taliban
has injected even more distrust and suspicion into the relationship.

In other words, American intelligence has not gained and will not gain
Pakistan's assistance in its pursuit of bin Ladin. The only effective way to
run offensive counterterrorist operations against Islamic radicals in more or
less hostile territory is with "non-official-cover" officers—operatives who
are in no way openly attached to the U.S. government. Imagine James Bond
minus the gadgets, the women, the Walther PPK, and the Aston Martin. But as
of late 1999 no program to insert NOCs into an Islamic fundamentalist
organization abroad had been implemented, according to one such officer who
has served in the Middle East. "NOCs haven't really changed at all since the
Cold War," he told me recently. "We're still a group of fake businessmen who
live in big houses overseas. We don't go to mosques and pray."

A former senior Near East Division operative says, "The CIA probably doesn't
have a single truly qualified Arabic-speaking officer of Middle Eastern
background who can play a believable Muslim fundamentalist who would
volunteer to spend years of his life with shitty food and no women in the
mountains of Afghanistan. For Christ's sake, most case officers live in the
suburbs of Virginia. We don't do that kind of thing." A younger case officer
boils the problem down even further: "Operations that include diarrhea as a
way of life don't happen."

Behind-the-lines counterterrorism operations are just too dangerous for CIA
officers to participate in directly. When I was in the Directorate of
Operations, the Agency would deploy a small army of officers for a meeting
with a possibly dangerous foreigner if he couldn't be met in the safety of a
U.S. embassy or consulate. Officers still in the clandestine service say that
the Agency's risk-averse, bureaucratic nature—which mirrors, of course, the
growing physical risk-aversion of American society—has only gotten worse.

few miles from Peshawar's central bazaar, near the old Cantonment, where
redcoats once drilled and where the U.S. consulate can be found, is the
American Club, a traditional hangout for international-aid workers,
diplomats, journalists, and spooks. Worn-out Western travelers often stop
here on the way from Afghanistan to decompress; one can buy a drink, watch
videos, order a steak. Security warnings from the American embassy are posted
on the club's hallway bulletin board.

The bulletins I saw last December advised U.S. officials and their families
to stay away from crowds, mosques, and anyplace else devout Pakistanis and
Afghans might gather. The U.S. embassy in Islamabad, a fortress surrounded by
roadblocks, Pakistani soldiers, and walls topped with security cameras and
razor wire, strongly recommended a low profile—essentially life within the
Westernized, high-walled Cantonment area or other spots where diplomats are
unlikely to bump into fundamentalists.

Such warnings accurately reflect the mentality inside both the Department of
State and the CIA. Individual officers may venture out, but their curiosity
isn't encouraged or rewarded. Unless one of bin Ladin's foot soldiers walks
through the door of a U.S. consulate or embassy, the odds that a CIA
counterterrorist officer will ever see one are extremely poor.

The Directorate of Operations' history of success has done little to prepare
the CIA for its confrontation with radical Islamic terrorism. Perhaps the
DO's most memorable victory was against militant Palestinian groups in the
1970s and 1980s. The CIA could find common ground with Palestinian militants,
who often drink, womanize, and spend time in nice hotels in pleasant,
comfortable countries. Still, its "penetrations" of the PLO—delightfully and
kindly rendered in David Ignatius's novel Agents of Innocence (1987)—were
essentially emissaries from Yasir Arafat to the U.S. government.

Difficulties with fundamentalism and mud-brick neighborhoods aside, the CIA
has stubbornly refused to develop cadres of operatives specializing in one or
two countries. Throughout the Soviet-Afghan war (1979-1989) the DO never
developed a team of Afghan experts. The first case officer in Afghanistan to
have some proficiency in an Afghan language didn't arrive until 1987, just a
year and a half before the war's end. Robert Baer, one of the most talented
Middle East case officers of the past twenty years (and the only operative in
the 1980s to collect consistently first-rate intelligence on the Lebanese
Hizbollah and the Palestinian Islamic Jihad), suggested to headquarters in
the early 1990s that the CIA might want to collect intelligence on
Afghanistan from the neighboring Central Asian republics of the former Soviet
Union.

Headquarters' reply: Too dangerous, and why bother? The Cold War there was
over with the Soviet withdrawal in 1989. Afghanistan was too far away,
internecine warfare was seen as endemic, and radical Islam was an abstract
idea. Afghanistan has since become the brain center and training ground for
Islamic terrorism against the United States, yet the CIA's clandestine
service still usually keeps officers on the Afghan account no more than two
or three years.

Until October of 1999 no CIA official visited Ahmad Shah Mas'ud in
Afghanistan. Mas'ud is the ruler of northeastern Afghanistan and the leader
of the only force still fighting the Taliban. He was the most accomplished
commander of the anti-Soviet mujahideen guerrillas; his army now daily
confronts Arab military units that are under the banner of bin Ladin, yet no
CIA case officer has yet debriefed Mas'ud's soldiers on the front lines or
the Pakistani, Afghan, Chinese-Turkoman, and Arab holy warriors they've
captured.

The CIA's Counterterrorism Center, which now has hundreds of employees from
numerous government agencies, was the creation of Duane "Dewey" Clarridge, an
extraordinarily energetic bureaucrat-spook. In less than a year in the
mid-1980s Clarridge converted a three-man operation confined to one room with
one TV set broadcasting CNN into a staff that rivaled the clandestine
service's Near East Division for primacy in counterterrorist operations. Yet
the Counterterrorism Center didn't alter the CIA's methods overseas at all.
"We didn't really think about the details of operations—how we would
penetrate this or that group," a former senior counterterrorist official
says. "Victory for us meant that we stopped [Thomas] Twetten [the chief of
the clandestine service's Near East Division] from walking all over us." In
my years inside the CIA, I never once heard case officers overseas or back at
headquarters discuss the ABCs of a recruitment operation against any Middle
Eastern target that took a case officer far off the diplomatic and
business-conference circuits. Long-term seeding operations simply didn't
occur.

George Tenet, who became the director of the CIA in 1997, has repeatedly
described America's counterterrorist program as "robust" and in most cases
successful at keeping bin Ladin's terrorists "off-balance" and anxious about
their own security. The Clinton Administration's senior director for
counterterrorism on the National Security Council, Richard Clarke, who has
continued as the counterterrorist czar in the Bush Administration, is sure
that bin Ladin and his men stay awake at night "around the campfire" in
Afghanistan, "worried stiff about who we're going to get next."

If we are going to defeat Usama bin Ladin, we need to openly side with Ahmad
Shah Mas'ud, who still has a decent chance of fracturing the tribal coalition
behind Taliban power. That, more effectively than any clandestine
counterterrorist program in the Middle East, might eventually force
al-Qa'ida's leader to flee Afghanistan, where U.S. and allied intelligence
and military forces cannot reach him.

Until then, I don't think Usama bin Ladin and his allies will be losing much
sleep around the campfire.

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