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The Mastermind: Ayman al Zawahri
A founder of Al-Jihad and Al-Qaeda, Ayman Al-Zawahri grew up as a gentle boy in Maadi who said it was "inhumane to hurt another human being"
By Azza Khattab

IT'S HARD TO imagine Ayman Al-Zawahri as a poet a deeply moving poet, in fact. But he was, and may well still be. His colleagues in prison, including Aboud El-Zumor, whom Al-Zawahri succeeded as the leader of Al-Jihad's military wing, used to learn his poems by heart. Poems that talk about human weakness, suffering and the need for companions who stand by you when life gets rough.

Reading Al-Zawahri's soft, gentle words while keeping in mind the deeds for which he is responsible makes it all the more difficult to fathom where things went wrong with this man, a man who devoutly believed in his youth that the pen was mightier than the sword.

But even more difficult to accept than Al-Zawahri's talent for poetry is the portrait of Ayman as a young innocent painted by Mahfouz Azzam, his maternal uncle, from his law office on the 20th floor of a Maadi office tower. If Azzam were on an aircraft a thousand meters above, he wouldn't be any more isolated from what people in the streets are saying about his nephew.

"Ayman and his brothers have the best qualities you could wish for in your children," Azzam begins. "They're extremely shy, quiet, modest, cultured and brilliant boys. Ayman was so peaceful as a child; everyone knew that. He never got into fights or arguments. At secondary school, when boys usually become troublemakers and start fistfights, he was the peacemaker, the mediator who brought his friends together to kiss and make up.

"He never enjoyed violent sports, like boxing," Azzam continues, "and used to tell me, 'It's inhumane for people to inflict pain on each other.' Everyone, even the barbers in the neighborhood, used to talk non-stop about his decency and sweetness."

I managed not to raise an eyebrow as I quietly said, "But people change, don't they?"

"Not Ayman," says Azzam, Al-Zawahri's self-appointed lawyer, in a matter-of-fact tone, not a trace of irony or subterfuge in his voice.

And there's the rub. As a young man, Ayman Al-Zawahri simply didn't fit the extremist mold. None of the much-touted factors the pundits say make a man a terrorist a lousy social background, a bad upbringing, poverty, obvious psychological problems were at play.

If his family was known for anything prior to Ayman, it was for breeding doctors, not terrorists. Ayman's father Rabea Al-Zawahri was a prominent professor of medicine, an expert on pharmacology and venereal diseases. Although most of the professionals in the extended Al-Zawahri family were physicians, pharmacists and chemists, there was also a judge, an ambassador and a member of the People's Assembly.

The family was also well-connected politically. Ayman's great uncle was Sheikh Al-Ahmadi Al-Zawahri, the imam of Al-Azhar Mosque in the late 1920s and early 1930s. His grandfather on his mother Omayma's side, Abdel Wahab Azzam, was president of Cairo University, a founder of King Saud University in Riyadh and ambassador to Pakistan, Saudi Arabia and Yemen countries in which Ayman would later seek refuge as a fugitive from Egyptian law.

With that extended family, Ayman grew up in green, leafy Maadi with his twin sister Omneya, his sister Heba (who went on to become a physician) and his brothers Mohammed and Hussein, who trained as architects. This image of a young Ayman the boy who loved his mother's amazing cooking and devoured both cartoons and Disney movies is the one seared in his uncle's selective memory. To Mahfouz Azzam, Ayman will always be the well-bred, decent, loving young man.

Can he see anything in this upbringing to suggest the outlines of a young medical doctor who went on to become a terrorist and the second-most wanted man in the world?

Azzam agrees that his nephew is an international figure, but hardly for the reasons most of us know. "Right!" he declares, "Ayman isn't an average man anymore, he no longer has a single nationality. Instead, he represents the conscience of the free world. He's a man of principles, standing up to the powers of evil.

"Thousands of people are praying for him, in case you didn't know. For some, he's the only hope in a corrupt, tyrannical, stagnant world." Azzam couldn't care less whether you or I or anyone else finds his alternate reality frustrating.

Ayman's path to radicalism began in the 1970s in medical school, where he trained to become a surgeon. After graduating in 1974, Al-Zawahri did a three-year hitch in the army and soon fell in with members of Al-Gama'a Al-Islamiyya, which originated in Upper Egypt, then spread to Cairo, where some claim it was covertly armed by Sadat as a tool against Marxists and Nasserists. At least four small cells, including Al-Zawahri's, merged in the late 1970s to form Al-Jihad.

In 1980, Al-Zawahri was filling in at a Muslim Brotherhood clinic when he met a man who convinced him to go to Pakistan and Afghanistan to treat mujahideen wounded in their bloody battle against Soviet occupation troops. He came back from the first of many trips a changed man.

In the meantime, Aboud El-Zumor's plans to assassinate Sadat were advancing. Although he was aware of the plot, Al-Zawahri claims he only learned the plan was to be executed on the morning of the assassination.

Azzam was among the four lawyers who stood in defense of Ayman Al-Zawahri, Defendant #113, charged with being the leader of 45-strong group Al-Jihad cell in south Cairo after he was arrested on the Corniche on his way to the airport for a flight to Pakistan and another tour with the mujahideen. His brother Hussein was at the wheel.

"The government and the rest of the world portray Ayman as a demon; his own family members lose their minds at the mere mention of his name lest they be stigmatized or harassed; and yet he's never committed a single crime in Egypt! Even when his name was dragged into the Sadat case he was declared innocent by the court.

"And they still sentenced him to three years in jail just for possessing weapons. He was brutally tortured in jail for a crime he didn't commit. At the time, Islamists around the world including Ayman and Mohammed were targets."

Azzam has an even harder time accepting that Ayman became Al-Jihad's undisputed leader after he was released from jail, serving as the mastermind (depending on whose accounts you believe) behind everything from the massacre of US Rangers and Special Forces in Somalia in 1993 (which inspired the movie Black Hawk Down) to the 1998 bombing of US embassies in Kenya and Tanzania and the attack on the USS Cole in 2000.

To say nothing, of course, of his linking up with bin Laden, with whom he formally founded Al-Qaeda in 2000 or so, laying the groundwork for the 9/11 terror attacks on the United States.

"Listen, I'm a lawyer. I believe only in hard evidence. I can't judge someone is a terrorist until you give me irrefutable evidence right in my hand; otherwise, your claims can go where they belong in the sewer.

"For those who fail to remember history, I'd like to refresh their memories: Ayman the 'terrorist' they're talking about today was a hero in the eyes of the US and the Muslim world when he fought in jihad against the Soviet Union in Afghanistan. After the collapse of the world's second superpower, both the Arab states and the US regarded the mujahideen with suspicion: Here they are, a group of young men who mastered the art of war and have the Islamic culture in their hearts. They not only confronted the biggest military power in the world, they forced it to retreat! Of course they were perceived as a threat, a growing power that had to be quashed! It's typical of America: They create a toy to play a certain role, and once it exhausts its purpose, they rush to get rid of it. And the Arab regimes? They feared these warriors might rebel against them and attempt to take power into their own hands, so the heroes of the 1980s became the criminals of the 1990s when they put down their arms."

After the Afghan war, Azzam claims, the US pressured Pakistan to expel the mujahideen, a development, he says ruined Ayman's life.

"These men had no passports and weren't welcome in their own countries. They were homeless, fugitives with no place in the world to call home. Ayman went to Sudan with his family, settled there, and enrolled his children in schools. He wanted to have a normal life. But Egypt started pressuring the Sudanese government to expel him. Bin Laden was there, too. So, they both contacted Mullah Omar in Afghanistan, pleading with him for political asylum. He was grateful for their part in freeing his country, so he took them in with open arms on the condition that they not interfere in politics or embarrass his regime."

Despite leading "normal lives in Afghanistan," Azzam claims, "the US bombed them and lured the Pakistani army to kill them in caves. Can you imagine it? A Muslim killing a Muslim just to please America?"

It's virtually impossible for many to imagine Azzam's story of 'Ayman The Persecuted,' the man denied his chance to live the normal life he craved. In fact, his account completely excludes episodes in Ayman's life attested to by one of Al-Zawahri's own comrades, Ahmed El-Najjar, who says Al-Zawahri was the man behind the bombing of the Egyptian embassy in Islamabad and the attempt on President Hosni Mubarak's life in Ethiopia.

And what of Ayman's role in 9/11?

"You're a journalist and you don't read the press?" Azzam retorts. "In France, Germany and even the US, some analysts claim there was no way the Arabs could have done it. Even [Mubarak] said in an interview with Newsweek that he, as a military man, finds it difficult to imagine how they pulled it off."

To make a long story short, Azzam is convinced that blaming Al-Zawahri and bin Laden for 9/11 is "buying into US conspiracy theories. Think about it! In whose interest is it to incite hatred against the Islamic world? These attacks were launched to declare a [Christian] holy war against the Islamic world! No one in the world has given solid evidence that holds Ayman or Osama accountable for the attack."

What about Osama and Ayman's own words in the videotapes they've released? The tapes in which the man who once said inflicting pain on another human being was "inhumane" threatens new attacks similar to those of 9/11.

"What about them? The man only praised those who did it. But that doesn't mean he did it himself. Besides, they're not the only ones who praised it. Some danced in the streets in Palestine. I've been working as a lawyer for 54 years, and I can tell you this: What they're saying is bullshit, it's newspaper nonsense. There's no proof this footage is real. There was no international investigation into how the attacks really happened. Even Germany released one of the suspects because there wasn't enough evidence against him."

As Azzam weaves his own conspiracy theories, he eventually says that Ayman's speeches are so eloquent that they force people to respect him, even side with him.

"He has strong, solid political, cultural and religious knowledge, not to mention his charisma. His experiences in life, his suffering and travails, earned him thousands of prayers from all over the world. Ayman has always been superior. Even as a physician he was brilliant. If he was given the means, he would have been a world-class surgeon. During the war in Afghanistan, he used to volunteer to operate for 15 days straight, saving lives. He always wanted to help others."

As Azzam sips his coffee, it's hard not to think that it's a bit odd to be talking about Ayman Al-Zawahri saving lives. But if Azzam's fate is to sit and rage against what has become of Ayman, it is nothing compared to the hand dealt to Ayman's brothers Mohammed and Hussein.

"There's a principle in Shariah that stresses you don't pay for the sins of others and that no penalty can be imposed without a just ruling. You can't arrest a person for a crime he never heard of or wasn't part of. Just because Mohammed is Ayman's brother doesn't mean he committed a crime."

Azzam also defended Mohammed in court when he was tried in absentia with Ayman in 1981.

"Mohammed was in Saudi at the time, and when his mother told him on the phone that he had been convicted, he started laughing. He thought she was joking. But he won a ruling in absentia that declared him innocent of all charges," Azzam says.

"He used to work for an international relief agency in Saudi, but Egyptian police investigators harassed him even there, calling his bosses all the time; they fired him, so he was forced flee to Yemen in search of peace peace he never got."

Again, Azzam's account conflicts with the "other story," the documented one that describes Mohammed as an active member of Al-Jihad. In 1999, the younger Al-Zawahri, like Ayman, was sentenced to death in the "Albanian returnees" case, in which members of Al-Jihad were charged of plotting against the regime (and against Western targets) from abroad. (The name of the case stems from the fact that many of the Jihad members put on trial were deported to Egypt from Albania, where they were arrested while training at a secret camp.)

Unlike Ayman, who was tried in absentia, Mohamed was apprehended by security officers in the Emirates and brought to Egypt for trial, then held in secret detention for as many as four or five years.

Predictably, Azzam denies the whole story.

"Mohammed didn't go to Albania and wasn't arrested there, so I fail to understand how they can call it the case of the 'Albanian returnees.' It implies they brought them from there, which is not true at least in Mohamed's case. Mohamed was an engineer abroad. For 26 years, he didn't set a foot in Egypt. So, how can they accuse him of a crime here? I'm sure they made up the Albania case to get him, then put his name on the front."

So the security apparatus arranged the conviction of some 101 other extremists just to get Mohammed?

"The military court issued death sentences against them, and that gave them a reason to ask for their arrest and extradition wherever they were. But remember absentia sentences are worthless; once the person is physically arrested, the verdict must be set aside and the accused stands trial again. The interior minister claims Mohammed will get a new trial. But I wonder, how would they do this when military court rulings are not appealable?

"Still," he adds, "I have great faith in the Egyptian justice system."

Perhaps he should have qualified that statement by saying the "Egyptian civilian justice system." While Azzam defended Mohammed and Ayman in 1981, he refuses to stand up in court for either of them today.

"I have respect for myself as a lawyer. I utterly refuse to attend a hearing in a military court, and I'm not alone in this dozens of my colleagues feel the same way. They prefer to keep their dignity and uphold their ethics and stay away."

Throughout it all, Mohammed's six children have suffered, Azzam says. "They have psychological problems from what happened to them. They have been humiliated. And now they've lost their family patriarch."

Azzam seems drained as he starts talking about Hussein, the third brother in the Al-Zawahri family, an architect like Mohammed and a man who most probably has no connection to his brothers' terror groups.

"The poor kid was so young when they arrested him in 1981, just because he was driving his brother to the airport. He knew nothing about what was going on," Azzam says.

More recently, Hussein was arrested on suspicion of being a member of El-Intemaa Lel Jihad (the Followers of Jihad) an illegal organization with ties to known extremist groups including Al-Jihad but was later released.

"He was young when all these events took his family by storm, and now he's psychologically devastated. You'd better leave him be let one in the family enjoy some measure of peace," Azzam asks.

Hussein used to live in Malaysia, but was extradited to stand trial in Egypt. "He lost his job, his house and car and his passport. He has nothing left anymore. He has his freedom now, but I wonder what kind of life he can have here," his uncle says.

It's the one story Azzam tells that actually meshes with the evidence and testimony of others. There is simply no evidence linking Hussein to his brothers' political activities, and his sisters' hands appear similarly clean.

But for Azzam, the suffering of Hussein and Mohammed is nothing compared to the fate Ayman's mother Omayma has suffered.

"Imagine a single mother who keeps hearing day and night that her son is wanted dead or alive," he says. "She still doesn't know whether her grandchildren are dead or not, even though the news spread that Ayman's wife and children were killed in the bombing of Tora Bora. Amid all this, she reads that Mohammed has been sentenced to death!

"Has he been executed or not? Some say yes, others say no. Then they tell her he's still alive, so she rushes to see him but they won't allow her to visit, telling her to come back later. Do you know how old this woman is? She's a woman with sons in their 50s!

"Omayma is a psychological wreck. Her tears never dry up she's been crying day and night since 1981, when this never-ending nightmare started. The worst part of it is that she's a gracious lady who doesn't deserve any of this."

Azzam says he's coping better than most in the family even though "you have to know that all of our calls and movements are monitored. The authorities are deluded into believing that Ayman might call or send us a message or letter. How naive! Many in the family have become paranoid.

"Don't compare me with them, though! I've been politically active since I was a student. The British jailed me in 1942, so I'm not afraid. Unlike some of his closest family members [uncles and cousins] I've no interest in changing my name."

With that, Azzam heaves himself out of his chair and trudges over to open the window and let some fresh air into a room gone stale.

"Nice view," he says, looking out from the 20th floor.

You can't disagree, but you wonder: How is it that even people with the best views in the world can't seem to get the whole picture?

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