military and civilian security advisors.
“Why has this Kennedy person done this? Does he believe in our cause? Is he a traitor to America?” Kaiser Rashid was astounded.
So was the far more sophisticated Shakir Khan. “My son,” he said, “the Americans are sometimes difficult to understand. They have big smiles and strike with weapons that would terrify the Prophet himself. They will kill us without mercy. All of you can bear witness to that. And yet there is a side to them that is inexplicable. As if they are ashamed of their own land, and laws, and people. They have fits of conscience, and try to atone for things that cannot be corrected. In the end they must lose our Holy War on them. Because they are soft, and too often they do not have the steel of the true warrior within them. They do not have the stomach for the fight. They are like poor, weak, pitiful women, and now they have invented a way to let loose our top warriors from captivity.”
“Does this mean they are tired of the conflict?” asked Kaiser.
“Of course they are,” replied Khan. “But we are not tired. This is a long war, and we will not rest until the American Infidel heeds the word of the Prophet and understands that Allah alone is great.”
Captain Amin spoke next. “Either that, or he lies dead at our feet,” said the uncle of Ibrahim Sharif.
2
THEY PASSED THE COMMUNICATION from hand to hand—five robed native tribesmen staring at the verdict written seven thousand miles away in Washington, DC, by Justice Kennedy on behalf of the Supreme Court of the United States.
No one spoke. The only sound was from the water softly splashing in the courtyard fountain. Ali’s camel, which had born the stunning news north through the dangerous mountain passes from the army city of Kohat, had padded silently away, down the alleyway, and into the streets of Peshawar.
The Azzam brothers and Captain Musa could only ask for clarity, to help them understand the ramifications of the American judgment. Kaiser Rashid, Khan’s assistant, who had studied law in London, tried his best.
“The important part,” he said, “Is the writ of habeas corpus.”
“Which language is that?” asked Captain Amin.
“It’s Latin,” said Kaiser. “Most Western law traces back to the Romans.”
“How about ours?”
“Older. Much older.”
“Did we have habeas corpus?”
“I’m not sure we needed it, Captain. We were well organized thousands of years before The Prophet.”
“Hmmm,” said Amin. “Anyway I still don’t understand what it is.”
“It means, literally, thou shalt have the body, meaning an appearance in court. The writ requires the person to be brought physically before a
judge or a court, with the right to explain why he should be released from captivity.”
“And this right would be given to Ibrahim?”
“By the look of this document,” replied Kaiser, thoughtfully, “this right has been given to everyone being detained at Guantanamo under U.S. law.”
“But surely the judge will listen and then send them right back for what they call crimes against humanity?”
Shakir Khan interjected. “Maybe five years ago,” he said, “when President Bush was furious with the entire Muslim world. But not now. Times have changed. The Americans have grown tired of the conflict. And their politicians must listen to the people. They just want it all to be over. And they’re starting by getting rid of the prisoners.”
“You mean they will just send Ibrahim and Yousaf home?”
“It looks like it. But before they do so, we have much work to do. They need lawyers. American lawyers. And we must make arrangements, both to hire them and then pay them. It must all go through Osama’s highest command.”
“Can we work directly by phone and e-mail?”
“I don’t think so,” replied Khan. “Because if they trace us, the Americans will have the government arrest us. It’s always better to remain concealed and to move our orders and
“Why has this Kennedy person done this? Does he believe in our cause? Is he a traitor to America?” Kaiser Rashid was astounded.
So was the far more sophisticated Shakir Khan. “My son,” he said, “the Americans are sometimes difficult to understand. They have big smiles and strike with weapons that would terrify the Prophet himself. They will kill us without mercy. All of you can bear witness to that. And yet there is a side to them that is inexplicable. As if they are ashamed of their own land, and laws, and people. They have fits of conscience, and try to atone for things that cannot be corrected. In the end they must lose our Holy War on them. Because they are soft, and too often they do not have the steel of the true warrior within them. They do not have the stomach for the fight. They are like poor, weak, pitiful women, and now they have invented a way to let loose our top warriors from captivity.”
“Does this mean they are tired of the conflict?” asked Kaiser.
“Of course they are,” replied Khan. “But we are not tired. This is a long war, and we will not rest until the American Infidel heeds the word of the Prophet and understands that Allah alone is great.”
Captain Amin spoke next. “Either that, or he lies dead at our feet,” said the uncle of Ibrahim Sharif.
2
THEY PASSED THE COMMUNICATION from hand to hand—five robed native tribesmen staring at the verdict written seven thousand miles away in Washington, DC, by Justice Kennedy on behalf of the Supreme Court of the United States.
No one spoke. The only sound was from the water softly splashing in the courtyard fountain. Ali’s camel, which had born the stunning news north through the dangerous mountain passes from the army city of Kohat, had padded silently away, down the alleyway, and into the streets of Peshawar.
The Azzam brothers and Captain Musa could only ask for clarity, to help them understand the ramifications of the American judgment. Kaiser Rashid, Khan’s assistant, who had studied law in London, tried his best.
“The important part,” he said, “Is the writ of habeas corpus.”
“Which language is that?” asked Captain Amin.
“It’s Latin,” said Kaiser. “Most Western law traces back to the Romans.”
“How about ours?”
“Older. Much older.”
“Did we have habeas corpus?”
“I’m not sure we needed it, Captain. We were well organized thousands of years before The Prophet.”
“Hmmm,” said Amin. “Anyway I still don’t understand what it is.”
“It means, literally, thou shalt have the body, meaning an appearance in court. The writ requires the person to be brought physically before a
judge or a court, with the right to explain why he should be released from captivity.”
“And this right would be given to Ibrahim?”
“By the look of this document,” replied Kaiser, thoughtfully, “this right has been given to everyone being detained at Guantanamo under U.S. law.”
“But surely the judge will listen and then send them right back for what they call crimes against humanity?”
Shakir Khan interjected. “Maybe five years ago,” he said, “when President Bush was furious with the entire Muslim world. But not now. Times have changed. The Americans have grown tired of the conflict. And their politicians must listen to the people. They just want it all to be over. And they’re starting by getting rid of the prisoners.”
“You mean they will just send Ibrahim and Yousaf home?”
“It looks like it. But before they do so, we have much work to do. They need lawyers. American lawyers. And we must make arrangements, both to hire them and then pay them. It must all go through Osama’s highest command.”
“Can we work directly by phone and e-mail?”
“I don’t think so,” replied Khan. “Because if they trace us, the Americans will have the government arrest us. It’s always better to remain concealed and to move our orders and
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