The Looming Tower - Lawrence Wright [77]
At the root of these quarrels was the usual culprit—money. Peshawar was the funnel through which cash poured into the jihad and the vast relief effort to help the refugees. The main pool of funds—the hundreds of millions of dollars from the United States and Saudi Arabia doled out by the Pakistani Inter-Services Intelligence (ISI) each year to the Afghan warlords—was drying up as the Soviets prepared to leave. Scarcity only fed the frenzy over what remained: the international aid agencies, private charities, and bin Laden’s pockets.
From the beginning, the Egyptians who were sponsoring bin Laden saw Azzam as a formidable obstacle. No one among the Arabs enjoyed equal prestige. Most of the young men who had gravitated to jihad were responding to his fatwa, and they regarded Azzam with awe. “He was an angel, worshipping all night, crying and fasting,” recalled his former assistant, Abdullah Anas, who married Azzam’s daughter just to be close to his mentor. For most of the Arabs who passed through Peshawar, Azzam was the most famous man they had ever met. Many of them—including bin Laden—had spent their first nights in Peshawar sleeping on his floor. They spoke movingly of his wisdom, generosity, and courage. He had come to personify the noble spirit of the Arab Afghans, and his shadow reached around the world. Destroying such a celebrated icon would be a treacherous task.
The Egyptians were not the only ones interested in bringing down Azzam. The Saudis worried that the charismatic leader would convert their young jihadis to the Muslim Brothers. They wanted an “independent body”—one that was run by a Saudi—that could be entrusted to manage the affairs of the mujahideen while keeping the Kingdom’s interests in mind. Bin Laden and al-Qaeda were seen as a proper Salafist alternative managed by a loyal son of the Saudi regime.
Abdullah Anas, the greatest exemplar of the Arab Afghan warriors, had just returned to Peshawar after fighting beside Ahmed Shah Massoud in northern Afghanistan. He was astounded to learn that there was to be a meeting among the Arab leaders to replace his father-in-law, Abdullah Azzam. When Anas talked to him about it, Azzam assured him that the election was strictly cosmetic. “The Saudi authorities are not pleased that I am leading the Arabs in Afghanistan,” Azzam explained. “All the money that comes for orphans and widows and schools comes from Saudi Arabia. They are unhappy to see the young Saudis being organized under my leadership. They fear they will become a part of the Muslim Brotherhood.” The Saudis wanted one of their own in charge. With Osama bin Laden as the new emir, Azzam continued, the Saudis would feel safe. “They will relax, because when they feel Osama is out of control, they can stop him. But I am a Palestinian. They have no way of stopping me.”
It was even more difficult for Azzam to persuade his old friend Sheikh Tameem to support this proposal. Although Azzam had told him the election was only a charade to gain Saudi approval, it was clear that others in the meeting had a different agenda. They heatedly used the occasion to slander Azzam’s reputation with charges of theft and corruption and mismanagement of the Services Bureau. Sheikh Tameem was outraged and turned to bin Laden. “Say something,” he demanded.
“I’m the emir of this meeting,” bin Laden responded. “Wait for your round.”
“Who told you that you are my emir?” Tameem began weeping. “Sheikh Abdullah persuaded me to support you, but how do you let these people say these things?” Tameem refused to endorse the vote, which overwhelmingly selected bin Laden as the Arabs’ new leader.
Azzam was philosophical and apparently unconcerned. “Osama is limited,” he reassured his supporters. “What can Osama do to organize people? Nobody knows him! Don’t worry.”
Azzam was more weakened than he realized. One of Zawahiri’s men, Abu Abdul Rahman, a Canadian citizen of Egyptian origin, lodged a complaint against Azzam. Abu Abdul