The Looming Tower - Lawrence Wright [149]
Publicity was the currency bin Laden was spending, replacing his wealth with fame, and it repaid him with recruits and donations. Despite his pledge to Mullah Omar to remain silent, bin Laden followed up the fatwa with a series of press conferences and interviews, first with a group of fourteen Pakistani journalists, who were driven around in circles for two days before landing in an al-Qaeda camp only miles from where they had started. They stood around idly waiting for bin Laden to make his appearance. Suddenly there was a barrage of gunfire and rocket grenades to herald bin Laden’s arrival in a convoy of four pickup trucks, accompanied by bodyguards with their faces covered. A dog ran amok, looking for cover, and skidded behind a tree.
The event struck the Pakistani reporters as staged and cartoonish. They weren’t interested in bin Laden’s declaration of war against America, which seemed like an absurd publicity stunt. India had just tested a nuclear device, and they wanted bin Laden to declare jihad against India instead. Frustrated, bin Laden tried to steer the reporters back to his agenda. “Let’s talk about real problems,” he pleaded.
“Terrorism can be commendable and it can be reprehensible,” bin Laden philosophized in response to a planted question from one of his followers. “Terrifying an innocent person and terrorizing him is objectionable and unjust, also unjustly terrorizing people is not right. Whereas, terrorizing oppressors and criminals and thieves and robbers is necessary for the safety of people and for the protection of their property…. The terrorism we practice is of the commendable kind.”
After the formal interview, Rahimullah Yusufzai, the reporter for the News in Islamabad, drew bin Laden aside and asked if he would talk a bit about his life. For instance, how many wives and children did he have?
“I’ve lost count,” bin Laden said, laughing.
“Maybe at least you know about your wives,” Yusufzai suggested.
“I think I have three wives, but I have lost count of my children,” bin Laden said.
Yusufzai then asked bin Laden how much money he had. Bin Laden put his hand on his heart and smiled. “I am rich here,” he said. He continued to evade personal questions.
As soon as Yusufzai got back to Peshawar, he received a call from a furious Mullah Omar. “Bin Laden holds a press conference announcing jihad and he doesn’t even tell me?” he exclaimed. “There can only be one ruler in Afghanistan, either me or bin Laden.”
THESE INTERVIEWS always took a toll on bin Laden’s voice, although he drank copious amounts of tea and water. The next day he wouldn’t speak at all, communicating by gesture, because his vocal cords were so inflamed. His bodyguard contended that this was the lingering effect of a Soviet chemical weapon, but some of the reporters concluded that he must be suffering from kidney disease—the origin of a persistent and unsubstantiated legend.
Two days after speaking to the Pakistani press, bin Laden received reporter John Miller and an ABC news crew. Beforehand, the irrepressible American correspondent had sat on the floor of a hut with Zawahiri and explained the needs of his crew. “Doc, we need shots of bin Laden going around the camps, interacting with the men, watching them train or whatever, so we’ll have some footage over which we can narrate his story,” Miller said. Zawahiri nodded knowingly. “You need some ‘B’ roll,” he said, using the technical term for such coverage. He chuckled and continued, “Mr. Miller, you have to understand that this is not like your Sam Donaldson walking with the president in the Rose Garden. Mr. bin Laden is a very important man.”
It occurred to Miller at the time that Zawahiri might be the real power behind al-Qaeda, but then bin Laden himself arrived, with the same staged, awe-inspiring fusillade as before. Over the chirping of crickets outside the mud hut, Miller asked bin Laden if his fatwa was directed at all Americans or just the military.