by Nir Rosen
In December in Nahr al-Barid a committee from Palestinian factions told Absi that his new faction was not acceptable and that he had to return the Fatah al-Intifada offices, disband his organization, and stop making announcements to the media. Absi did not respond to their demands. At the same time, Abu Khalid, the deputy commander of Fatah al-Intifada based in Syria, was arrested by the Syrians. His boss Abu Musa gave a press conference stating that he was very upset at Abu Khalid, but the notion that the Syrians were completely ignorant of the actions of a faction they controlled strains credulity. For Abu Khalid to take such steps independently of the Syrians would have been foolhardy.
Bernard Rougier speculated that the Hariri strategy was to “control and enlarge the Islamist coalition, which could be used to fight Hizballah on the communal level. The Syrians wanted to impede the Hariri strategy by creating division in the Hariri ranks, so they inserted a Salafi jihadist group that wants to fight Israel because it would take Sunni support from Hariri. Then it took on its own life and the Syrians don’t have to do a thing. And it had a magnetic effect on Islamists in the country. It began to have influence in Tripoli.” Rougier distinguishes the communal agenda, which “views the real enemy as Shiites,” from the jihadist agenda, which “views the real enemy as the West, and Shiites are third or lower on the list of priorities.” But the Syrian regime, dominated by the Alawite sect—which is related to Shiism and which rules a Sunni majority and has crushed Islamist movements in the past—would not encourage an ideology that despises its own Baathist government. While the Syrians had allowed Arab volunteers to pour into Iraq to fight the Americans for the first two or three years of the occupation, the main opposition to the Syrian Baathist regime is a Sunni Islamist one. So it would not likely support the growth of Salafi jihadists so close to its own border. Moreover, Syria would not introduce anti-Shiite and anti-Hizballah elements into Lebanon. A Salafi attack on Israel would be Hizballah’s worst nightmare because it would drag the powerful guerilla army into a war with Israel at a time and place not of its own choosing.
“When Fatah al-Islam took down the Palestinian flag and vandalized posters of Hassan Nasrallah, they started getting a lot of money,” said Abu Yasser. “Their main goal was to be the Sunni military force in Lebanon. The north has a rich history of Salafis, and they wanted to declare their emirate. Those who empowered them were not Palestinians. We let them enter as a baby chicken and they became an elephant. How did they get these advanced weapons? When they were part of Fatah al-Intifada, they were only seventy. They became five hundred. With us they were very poor. We gave them spare clothes. How did they get so much money? And how did they buy all the grilled chicken in Nahr al-Barid?” According to Abu Jaber of the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine (PFLP), once a leading resistance movement within the PLO but now completely marginalized, the financial situation of the Fatah al-Islam members suddenly improved as more foreign faces appeared. “They were probably there, but people didn’t see them,” he said. “How did they live for six or seven months?” he asked. “They used to buy three hundred loaves of bread a day. They bought apartments, rented land, buying very advanced weapons, spending a lot of money.” People in the camp grew worried, and some refused to rent them homes. Some said that they were Muslims who were not bothering anybody, while others said that they did not belong in Palestinian society. As Fatah al-Islam began to spread throughout the camp, it seemed to many that the group was preparing for something. It was also clear that its members could get in and out of the camp without harassment by Lebanese security officials.
“The Fatah al-Islam picture got more and more clear,” said Abu Jaber. “In their first announcement their goal was to liberate Palestine and correct the errors of Fatah al-Intifada. And they called men in the camp to join them in liberating Palestine in an Islamist way. After a while their speech changed. They said they came to fight Israel in the name of Sunnis. They said, ‘We won’t fight those who fought Israel [meaning Hizballah], but we have differences with them.’ They did not have their own mosque. They were moving around in all the mosques.” The leader of Al Qaeda in Iraq sent Saudis and other fighters from Iraq to Nahr al-Barid but warned them not to provoke Lebanese Shiites.
Ensconced in Nahr al-Barid, the Fatah al-Islam militants grew in number. Their headquarters had a yard for military training. Above it flew a black flag with an Islamic slogan. Some walked around camp with scarves concealing their faces. Shaker al-Absi insisted that they were independent of Al Qaeda even though they had a similar ideology, and that they had no ties to Lebanese or Syrian officials. He explained that “Muslims” were funding his organization. The secular approach to the struggle had failed to achieve its goals, he argued, and they now rallied under the flag of Islam. He explained that his organization’s main goals were to liberate Jerusalem and oppose the U.S. project in the Middle East. He refused to be involved in internal Lebanese affairs. Fatah al-Islam’s main criticism of Hizballah was not that it was a Shiite party but that it denied other groups the same right to resist Israel. Importantly, Absi denied being a takfiri. (Takfiris typically single out Shiites, as did Zarqawi in Iraq, and sometimes call for their deaths.)
Members of Fatah al-Islam claimed to have “brothers” in all the camps in Lebanon, as well as in Syria, Jordan, and Palestine. But according to an informant with Lebanese army intelligence, the group clashed with mainstream factions in the camp three times and achieved dominance. Fatah al-Islam’s ranks were bolstered by Lebanese Sunnis reacting to the increasingly aggressive steps being taken by Hizballah supporters, whose actions were viewed by many Sunnis as an attack on Sunni power, an occupation of Beirut, and an attempt to seize control of Lebanon. Clerics in Tripoli reported being asked by followers if they were permitted to join Fatah al-Islam. Dai al-Islam al-Shahal, the founder of Lebanese Salafism, explained that Lebanese Sunnis felt targeted, alienated, and punished, and as a result some were joining Fatah al-Islam and others were sympathizing with it. Shahal had maintained direct dialogue with Fatah al-Islam from its establishment in an attempt to influence its ideology and actions.
“Fatah al-Islam was very different after they declared themselves,” said Abu Yasser. “At first their goal was to fight the Americans in Lebanon. But their first enemy was [Fatah al-] Intifada, and they fought us and we had two wounded and they had one killed and three wounded, and then Shaker al-Absi made some new channels with groups in Lebanon.” In March 2007, following accusations by the Lebanese interior minister that the Syrians were backing Fatah al-Islam, the Syrian interior minister responded that Fatah al-Islam was an Al Qaeda organization that was also targeting Syria and had been discovered in August 2002 when several of its members were arrested, including Shaker al-Absi. He added that Absi had coordinated with Zarqawi in Iraq to conduct terrorist attacks. But the Future Movement insisted that Fatah al-Islam was a Syrian tool, and the Movement’s leader, Saad al-Hariri, described the organization as “the gang of Asef Shawkat,” referring to the head of Syrian military intelligence and the brother-in-law of the Syrian president. The television station and newspaper controlled by the Movement also initiated a campaign to convince Lebanese of the links between Fatah al-Islam and the Syrians. Others in the opposition claimed it was a creation and tool of the Future Movement. Both were wrong.
Some members of Fatah al-Islam had fled from the Rashidiyeh camp in southern Lebanon after the UNIFIL forces boosted their activities following the July war. Others came from Taamir and Ayn al-Hilweh. A Syrian volunteer seeking to engage in jihad made his way to Bedawi by accident and asked for Fatah al-Islam at a Fatah al-Intifada checkpoint. He was in his twenties and was carrying a laptop and three thousand dollars. The security committee interrogated him for twenty-four hours. The man had been invited via the Internet by Fatah al-Islam to come fight jihad and “liberate Lebanon.” It was not clear who he was supposed to liberate it from. After Lebanon there would be many steps, the invitation said.
In February up to twe
nty armed men from Jund al-Sham took over a kindergarten that belonged to the Hariri Foundation and was overseen by Bahiya al-Hariri, sister of the slain prime minister. The area was controlled by Usbat al-Ansar, and the move was seen as an attempt to pressure local officials, improve the group’s financial situation, and obtain housing. Jund al-Sham was already known as Jund al-Sitt (The Army of the Lady), because Bahiya al-Hariri was a financial backer of the armed group. She paid up to one hundred of the men to leave, and they went north to Nahr al-Barid. Some of them were veterans of Iraq. It was a move typical of the “Saudi” mentality of the Hariri family, an attempt to pay off potential troublemakers and buy loyalty. Mustafa Allush, a Parliament member from the Future Movement, confirmed that the transport of the men had been facilitated by Hariri’s people for “humanitarian reasons.” Once Fatah al-Islam was set up in Nahr al-Barid, officials close to the Future Movement and the Independent Islamic Gathering courted the group, hoping it would side with them. To their chagrin, Shaker al-Absi and others insisted on maintaining their independence.
In March Lebanese Interior Security Forces arrested suspects behind the February 13 bus bombings, which killed three and injured twenty-one in the village of Ain Alaq, north of Beirut. The twelve men, including four Syrians and four Saudis who were accused by the Lebanese interior minister of belonging to Fatah al-Islam, confessed to setting the bombs. The four Saudis claimed to have been deceived by Fatah al-Islam. They said they had been planning to go to Iraq and instead found that they were expected to remain in Lebanon. The Saudi ambassador requested that the Saudis be extradited back to their country. Fatah al-Islam representatives denied involvement in the attacks and denied that the detained men belonged to their group. As the heat on the group increased, spokesman Abu Salim Taha warned that if Fatah al-Islam had to respond militarily, it would. Abu Jaber of the PFLP worried that if military steps were taken, the results would be catastrophic. The bus bombers had not actually belonged to Fatah al-Islam, but they had spent one night in Nahr al-Barid before the attack and were said to have called the Fatah al-Islam leadership afterward.
Nabil Seyid, a PFLP official who coordinated the security committee in Bedawi and was secretary general of the factions in the northern camps, explained that the factions did not have control of the camps and had no way of dealing with Fatah al-Islam. “We are under Lebanese authorities, and the Palestinian factions aren’t united, and when they want to make a decision they have to consult.” Abu Jaber, also of the PFLP, admitted that there had initially been poor communication and many disagreements among the Palestinian factions. When suspicions first arose, the factions decided that they could not interfere in the internal affairs of Fatah al-Intifada. Nahr al-Barid had a conservative culture, so Islamists were welcome while Fatah’s men were known for being thuggish and even drunk. “People in the camp had no problem seeing Muslims—they were praying, they didn’t bother anybody,” Abu Jaber said. “The PFLP was suspicious, though. By the time they had declared themselves Fatah al-Islam, they were stronger, situated, stable, they had brought families. A committee of the factions spoke to them and told them to leave the camp, but these people were very strong.” Abu Jaber explained that following the Oslo accords the factions had progressively grown weaker. Less money was coming into the camps. There was no powerful Palestinian regime to dislodge the four hundred well-armed Salafis. “Whoever let them in should kick them out,” he said. “All the camp is surrounded with Lebanese army checkpoints, and these people were coming in and out.” Fatah al-Islam had brought two vans full of weapons in broad daylight, without obstruction, he said. There were popular demonstrations against their presence. Many of the Palestinian faction leaders insist that prominent Lebanese Sunnis and members of the Future Movement tried to co-opt Fatah al-Islam. “What is for sure is that all sides tried to benefit from them, but no one can control them,” a Hamas official from Nahr al-Barid told me. “The Syrians tried to use them, and Future tried to use them in their war against Hizballah. They made many promises, but in the end they did their own program.”
The Lebanese army increased its presence around the camp, surrounding it and establishing checkpoints at the entrances. Nahr al-Barid had been one of the main markets in northern Lebanon, but the security measures put the camp’s economy in a stranglehold. The army searched cars and checked identification papers, causing traffic jams leading to the camp and reducing the number of visitors to the market.
Fatah al-Islam’s men refused to heed calls for their removal or disbandment. They were Muslims, they said, on Muslim land, and they recognized no borders. Their persecution was a necessary result of their ideology and was akin to the persecution the Prophet Muhammad faced when he first began preaching. Absi warned that he had more than two hundred men and that they were observing the army’s movements around the camp. If Fatah al-Islam felt under attack, then it would respond violently, he said. Absi was becoming increasingly influential in Tripoli, especially among youth. Following a bank robbery in Sidon, the Lebanese interior minister gave a press conference on March 13, 2007, stating that Fatah al-Islam was self-funded and relied partially on bank robberies.
In March two Fatah al-Islam members were killed in a clash with Fatah that also brought injuries on both sides. Fatah al-Islam made a show of force in the camp and removed pictures of the late Fatah leader Yasser Arafat. In another clash more grenades were thrown and more men were injured. At the funeral for one of the slain men, a Gazan who had come to Lebanon via Germany, a large number of people turned out, including Salafis and clerics from Tripoli. “We were surprised by how popular they were,” said Abu Yasser. Many Salafis from Tripoli swore oaths of allegiance to the group. By then Fatah al-Islam numbered 150, its ranks bolstered by members of other groups such as Usbat al-Ansar and Jund al-Sham. Some called them “strangers in the camp.” They kept to themselves and spoke in classical Arabic, perhaps to conceal their foreign accents.
In April at least seventy residents of Tripoli, including Saudis and other foreign Arabs, were arrested in Tripoli. Most of them were from the Abu Samra district, which housed important Salafis and their institutions. The suspects were accused of belonging to Al Qaeda. They were said to be linked to a man who had been arrested in Saudi Arabia for allegedly trying to collect money to fund militias in Lebanon. Anger increased among the Salafis of Tripoli at what they felt was their persecution by government forces. Others resented what they perceived as a double standard allowing Hizballah members to have arms but denying Sunnis the same privilege. That month Hamas held commemorations in honor of Ahmed Yassin and Abdel Aziz al-Rantisi, two leaders who had been assassinated by the Israelis. They played religious and nationalist songs. Fatah al-Islam members complained about the music, which they considered un-Islamic, but Hamas prevailed. Fatah al-Islam also accused Hamas of following Anwar Sadat’s path of negotiation with Israel.
Abu Yasser claims that forty Saudis flew to Beirut and were taken to Nahr al-Barid, where they were kept for months until the tensions with the army began. One of the Saudis called his family back home, and they arranged for his surrender to Lebanese authorities. Many Salafi clerics and state religious officials came to visit Fatah al-Islam, their vehicle license plates indicating that they were from Dar al-Ifta, or the Sunni Endowment, a state body, which was headed by the Grand Mufti, or the Mufti of Lebanon. In May eyewitnesses claimed that large deliveries of new weapons were brought into the camp for Fatah al Islam. In July Abu Salim Taha explained that pressure had been placed on his group to take a side in internal Lebanese conflicts but they had refused to do so they were being targeted.
Accusations were exchanged throughout 2007 between the two opposing coalitions about who was responsible for Fatah al-Islam, with some even speculating that Saudi Arabia and the United States were collaborating with the Future Movement to sponsor jihadists who would confront Shiites.
The March 14 coalition accused the Syrians of backing Fatah al-Islam and similar groups. On August 20, 2007, Demo
cratic Senator Joseph Lieberman made similar accusations, claiming that “the road to victory now requires cutting off Al Qaeda’s road to Iraq through Damascus.” Most of the support for Al Qaeda in Iraq came from Syria, he asserted, as did the actual fighters. The majority of Al Qaeda’s foreign fighters made their way into Iraq by first flying into Damascus International Airport, he claimed, “making the airport the central hub of Al Qaeda travel in the Middle East.” It was time to demand that “the Syrian regime stop playing travel agent for Al Qaeda in Iraq,” he said, calling for an international boycott of that airport.
According to Syria’s ambassador in Washington, the urbane Imad Moustapha, these accusations were laughable. “We have in Syria organizations that might be very similar to Al Qaeda in ideology and approach,” he said. “Al Qaeda is not one single organization that has headquarters in Afghanistan. It has inspired groups all over the Islamic world. We have had serious incidents in Syria, some not publicized.” He blamed U.S. policy in Iraq for the spread of these groups. “When the U.S. changed Iraq into this lawless state, Iraq became fertile ground for every extreme organization. The flow of terrorists is not unidirectional. It’s bidirectional. At an early stage we told the U.S., ‘Stop the accusations that we are helping Al Qaeda.’ If they go and fight in Iraq, they will continue their holy war against other regimes. Only yesterday we extradited some Saudis to Saudi Arabia. This is a very burdensome task, and it needs lots of cooperation. In Damascus airport any young man who arrives alone, especially from Saudi Arabia, we don’t let them in. They are very upset about this, and we receive many complaints.” Every few weeks Moustapha received a copy of a list from Syrian intelligence of individuals rejected at Syrian entry points for security reasons. He showed me several months’ worth of the lists, which were marked “top secret” and contained the names of thousands of individuals denied entry, some of whom were Egyptian and Algerian. “Borders can’t be controlled by one country,” he said. “It needs exchange of intelligence, cooperation, the diligent effort of the other side.”