The Great War of Our Time: The CIA's Fight Against Terrorism--From Al Qa'ida to ISIS (24 page)

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Forecasting revolutions is an inexact science. At CIA we were very good about providing strategic warnings but not as good on the tactical front. That is like a meteorologist telling you, “Winter is coming and it looks like a bad one.” Good to know, but what you really want to find out is whether it will snow on Thursday and how bad the storm will be.

For a number of years CIA analysts had been warning about powerful pressures in the Arab world. In one piece after another they told policy-makers that, without significant policy change in the Arab world, the status quo would not stand. They offered a wealth of analysis—citing political, demographic, economic, and societal trends that all pointed to trouble for the authoritarian regimes in the region, as these governments were not meeting the expectations of their people. There were two fundamental problems—one we saw and one we did not. The one we saw was that fairly well-educated people could not find jobs and were concerned that they and their children would not find a better life. The one we missed was that social media were helping to quickly spread these people’s views in a profound way.

What we failed to do was provide a tactical warning—either “Something bad could well happen in Tunisia in the next few
months” or “The pressures that we have been discussing for years are now building to a dangerous level across the entire region.” While some criticized us for not providing that first warning, it would have been nearly impossible to do so. The fuse of the Arab uprising was lit on December 17, 2010, in Tunisia, when Mohamed Bouazizi, a street vendor, set himself on fire out of frustration over the way the oppressive government of President Zine El Abidine Ben Ali was treating him and his fellow citizens. Bouazizi was the catalyst for demonstrations that brought Ben Ali’s twenty-three-year reign to an end in just under four weeks. No intelligence agency could have predicted this chain of events—although we did point out in the early days of the Tunisia crisis that the end of Ben Ali’s reign was one possible outcome, and once Tunisia fell we did begin to warn about spillover to the rest of the region. One paper we produced at the time carried the title
Jasmine Revolution Resonating in Tunisia’s Neighborhood
.

But there is no good explanation for our not being able to see the pressures growing to dangerous levels across the region. Why didn’t we? It was not a resource issue—the Middle East and the Arab world always attracted substantial Agency resources. We failed because to a large extent we were relying on a handful of strong leaders in the countries of concern to help us understand what was going on in the Arab street. We were lax in creating our own windows into what was happening, and the leadership we were relying on was isolated and unaware of the tidal wave that was about to hit them.

Another problem at the time was that the intelligence community was not doing enough to mine the wealth of information available through social media. Not only was social media spreading ideas, it was becoming a means of organization for those opposed to the current regimes. The surprise of the Arab Spring in general and social media–inspired demonstrations in particular caused us to redouble our efforts to monitor the enormous amount
of information available on social media platforms as indicators of political change and political movements. We had become too accustomed to stealing secrets and were not paying enough attention to important information that was streaming on Twitter for the world to see.

To be fair, it certainly was not—and is not—clear to me what difference our failure to “call” the Arab Spring had at the end of the day. I do not believe that the events would have turned out any differently if we had told policy-makers exactly what to expect.

But for all the analytic missteps we made during the run-up to what became known as the Arab Spring, the one that seems the most important to me—because it gave people false hope—and the one most important to this story was a misjudgment that was made after the street erupted. We thought and told policy-makers that this outburst of popular revolt would damage al Qa‘ida by undermining the group’s narrative. Our analysts figured that the protests would send a signal throughout the region that political change was possible without al Qa‘ida’s leading the way and without the violence that al Qa‘ida said was necessary. Instead, with a few exceptions, the development of people’s gaining the right of self-determination had the unforeseen effect of key countries suddenly losing the will or the capability to deal with al Qa‘ida and other militant groups.

In short, the Arab Spring was a boon to Islamic extremists across both the Middle East and North Africa. Egypt and Libya illustrate this point well, and they just happened to be places where I again found myself at the center of things.

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Inspired by the events in Tunisia, where President Ben Ali had just fallen, enormous public protests erupted in Egypt in January 2011. Tens of thousands of protestors hit the streets of Cairo and
other major cities demanding an end to Hosni Mubarak’s three decades of rule. Many of the protesters’ grievances were legitimate, as conditions for the masses in Egypt were appallingly bad. The inequality was striking. While westerners were used to seeing pictures of stunning pyramids and beautiful Red Sea beach resorts, abject poverty affected millions of people. It was a difficult moment for US policy-makers because Mubarak had been a faithful ally of the United States. Egypt, a focal point of Arab culture, with the largest population in the Arab world, plays an enormously pivotal role in the region, and US officials could not ignore the fact that Egypt’s peace agreement with our closest Middle East ally, Israel, rested on a narrow pedestal of just a few leaders—like Mubarak.

The demonstrations grew in size day after day, with periodic outbursts of violence, mostly on the part of the government, which was trying to put down the protests. The White House held daily Deputies Committee meetings to discuss what, if anything, the United States could do to ensure a peaceful resolution and a stable outcome. I was CIA’s representative to those meetings. There was no clear answer. The participants agreed on a couple of things, however. First, you cannot throw yourself in front of the speeding freight train that is a people’s revolution. It was clear that the outcome would be decided in Egypt, not in the United States. Second, as much as the United States appreciated Mubarak’s support over the years on issues ranging from Middle East peace to counterterrorism, his domestic situation appeared too far gone to save. It seemed his days were numbered. Still, it was viewed as possible that he could play a role in a peaceful transition to a new type of government in Egypt. The representatives from the NSC and the State and Defense Departments agreed that there was no way the US government could directly support either Mubarak or those who sought to overthrow him. The best we could do was publicly say that the United States was for a peaceful resolution, and then work
diplomatically behind the scenes with Mubarak to engineer an outcome that would not include a bloodbath and that would ensure a transition to a stable new government.

I was asked to get involved in making that happen. Going back over a decade, I had had many experiences with Omar Suleiman, the head of the Egyptian General Intelligence Service. A tall, reserved, and well-spoken man, Suleiman was an army general who always wore business suits. He was very wise about security issues in his region and we would often seek out his views on complex matters. You could ask Suleiman a single question about any regional issue and then sit back for what might turn out to be a half-hour lecture packed with insights. His remarks would be interrupted only by a quirky habitual clearing of his throat every few minutes as he gathered his thoughts to further expand on the topic.

With the situation in Egypt rapidly spiraling out of control, the United States kept pushing Mubarak to resolve the crisis through compromise, but the Egyptian president was proving stubbornly resistant. Four days after the demonstrations started, Mubarak surprised the world by naming Suleiman vice president, a position that had been unfilled for almost thirty years. Outside of his immediate family, Suleiman was Mubarak’s closest advisor. This decision was received poorly by the protesters—because they saw it as another step by Mubarak to hold on to power by promoting his most powerful ally.

At the same time, I was approached by the intermediary for an international businessman. (I cannot provide more information about him or the intermediary.) This businessman was a friend of Suleiman’s and he wanted to relay messages from Suleiman to the US government through me. The intermediary’s credentials were impeccable and several conversations with the businessman convinced me of two things—he was talking directly with Suleiman and he had the best interests of Egypt and the United States in
mind. I sought and received the approval of Director Panetta and my fellow deputies to talk to Suleiman through the businessman. A number of conversations then occurred over a period of days. The main message Suleiman wanted to deliver to the White House was that he was deeply concerned about the stability of his country, he wanted to help resolve the crisis, and he was asking what the US government thought Cairo should do with that goal in mind.

Although this was never clearly stated, it was our assumption that Suleiman (who could have picked up the phone and contacted Director Panetta or me directly) was looking for some deniability. If seen talking with me, he would be viewed by the inner circle as working against Mubarak—which, in fact, was exactly what he was suggesting—and he was unwilling to openly go against his boss. Secrecy was required because even the head of the Egyptian spy service could expect to be spied upon. It was also clear that he was looking for a way to survive this ordeal—and perhaps even come out of it in a more senior position, possibly as the new leader of Egypt. I never lost sight of the fact that Suleiman was in this for Suleiman.

I took Suleiman’s message to the deputies, and it was decided that I would send a message back to the Egyptian spy boss detailing exactly what the United States recommended he do. At the time Mubarak was preparing to deliver a major speech that was anticipated as a key moment in the crisis. I sat down with Denis McDonough, the deputy national security advisor, in his West Wing office—about the size of a walk-in closet but a few steps from the Oval Office—and we drafted a list of things the US government would like to hear Mubarak say. These things, we thought, might help defuse the crisis. McDonough typed faster than I could think and printed the talking points. The basic message was,
I have heard the views of the people and I am going to step down from the presidency immediately. I am turning power over to a transitional council with representation across Egyptian society, and this council will run the country and put into place the mechanisms for elections that will determine the leadership of Egypt going forward. And all this will occur in a way that is orderly and secure
. Denis and I returned to the deputies, who were still in the Situation Room, and he shared the points with everyone to make sure each was on board. When everyone signed off on the message, McDonough handed me the paper and said, “Go to it, brother.”

I found a private room in the Situation Room and called my business contact. I told him that I had a message for Suleiman and that it came from the highest levels of the United States government. I went through the points carefully. It was clear my contact was writing them down word by word, as he asked me to slow down at a couple of points and to repeat a phrase or two. He said he would pass the message to Suleiman immediately. Later my contact phoned me back and told me that Suleiman had not only gotten the message but that he had convinced Mubarak to make those points in his remarks.

The next principals meeting on Egypt happened to coincide with Mubarak’s big speech on February 1. We were all watching the multiple video screens in the Situation Room with great anticipation, but it quickly became clear that Mubarak was heading in a different direction from the Suleiman talking points. Mubarak talked about the peaceful protests of noble youth and about citizens being exploited by those bent on confrontation and violence. He made it clear that it was his sacred duty to protect the country and that he would continue to do so until the end of his term. The closest he would go in the direction of the protesters was to say that he would not run for the presidency again. The Egyptian street reacted quickly and violently. Mubarak’s forces subsequently engaged in a brutal crackdown. (After leaving office Mubarak was tried on charges of murder for the deaths of some of the demonstrators.)

I felt horrible—mostly for Egypt but also because my personal diplomacy had failed so miserably. It was clear to me that Suleiman’s influence was no match for that of Mubarak’s wife and children, in particular his son Gamal, whom Mubarak had been grooming as his successor.

Mubarak’s speech was a turning point for the US government. The president took a first step toward distancing himself from our long-term ally by saying publicly the next morning that the transition in Egypt “must be meaningful, it must be peaceful, and it must begin now.”

As the violence grew, so did the debate at the White House. Giving up publicly on a longtime ally was difficult for many to accept, but others thought the time had come. A crystallizing moment came in an NSC meeting when UN ambassador Susan Rice asked President Obama how he wanted history to judge him—as on the side of Mubarak or as on the side of the Egyptian people. The president made his decision to take a significant step away from Mubarak. He put out a statement, saying, “The voices of the Egyptian people must be heard. The Egyptian people have made it clear that there is no going back to the way things were: Egypt has changed and its future is in the hands of the people.” The president had sided fully with the protesters. He walked away from Mubarak, who resigned soon thereafter, and Suleiman announced that control of the government was being turned over to the Egyptian military.