by Churton, Alex; Churton, Toby; Locke, John; Lustbader, Eric van; van Lustbader, Eric
Marston sniffed as Ashe took his seat. ‘Well, now we are all here, at last – don’t trouble to apologise, Ashe – we may give our undivided attention to the archdeacon’s summary.’
Archdeacon Aleric Loveday-Rose MC looked across to Ashe. ‘Dr Ashe?’
Ashe withdrew a slim blue card file from a battered briefcase and handed it to the archdeacon with a smile. Years of army, university and missionary service in the world’s most inhospitable climes had diminished neither the archdeacon’s inner fire and good humour, nor his essential seriousness. He addressed the committee.
‘As you are all aware, this meeting was initially scheduled for March 20th to assess progress in investigations into the November 2003 bombings targeted against British and Jewish persons, property and security in Istanbul. I regret to say, however, that on the 9th of this month, another atrocity took place, this time in Istanbul’s Kartal District. In view of this, it was decided to bring the meeting forward as a matter of urgency.’
Impatient, Marston interjected. ‘Urgency is right. But do we have hard evidence, Archdeacon, for links between the November bombings and this week’s attack on the Istanbul Masonic Lodge?’
‘Too early for definite conclusions, Commodore. Nevertheless, there appear to be links between these separate events, with national security implications.’
Marston was not satisfied. ‘Can you define that interest in this instance, Archdeacon?’ Marston glanced about the committee, expecting approval for his acuity.
The archdeacon patted his file. ‘Certainly, Commodore. It will become obvious as I read you my updated summary on the November 2003 bombings.’
Ashe coughed.
‘Excuse me, Dr Ashe. I ought to have said “our summary”.’
‘Why?’ Marston was annoyed.
‘Dr Ashe assisted with the draft, Commodore.’
‘This isn’t an awards ceremony,’ huffed Marston. ‘It’s your job, Ashe. We’re all doing our bit – and time is short.’
‘Quite so, Commodore.’ The archdeacon gave Marston a stern look, then winked discreetly at Ashe. ‘The summary is as follows: On 20 November 2003, five days after the truck-bombing of two synagogues in Istanbul, suicide bombers detonated explosives-packed trucks at the British Consulate and at the HSBC bank, also in Istanbul, killing thirty and wounding four hundred. Our esteemed Consul General, Roger Short, was among the victims, I regret to say, together with a number of his consulate staff. Most of the casualties, as was the case in the earlier synagogue attacks, were Turkish Muslims. While the extreme fundamentalist group IBDA-C, also known as the Islamic Great Eastern Raiders Front, claimed responsibility, it now appears the operation was beyond their capacity. We now understand that although executed independently, the attacks received Osama bin Laden’s blessing. The 20 November attack was probably timed to coincide with the meeting in London of US President George Bush and British PM Tony Blair. It was aimed at Western – and particularly British – financial interests while securing propaganda value in Europe, America, the Middle East, and Turkey itself.’
‘And the culprits?’ Marston jumped the gun.
‘Turkish security forces have arrested seventy-four suspects. According to the MIT – Turkey’s National Intelligence Organisation – the chief perpetrators formed an al-Qaeda-backed cell of Turkish militants, aided and abetted by a small number of Syrian jihadists. Regrettably, Syrian nationals involved in the attacks evaded arrest. They are now, we understand, operating secretly in Iraq, together with at least three Turkish-born “al-Qaeda warriors”, as they call themselves, who were trained at camps at Kandahar and Kabul, Afghanistan. They also fled Turkey. MIT reports that the fugitives include the Syrian Hafiz Razak, a skilled forger and bomb-maker. Razak is probably associated with a new al-Qaeda cell, active in Fallujah and linked to the Ansar al-Islam network in Iraq. The presence, or alleged presence, in Iraq of men responsible for the Istanbul bombings reinforces the British and American security interest in the bombings and the pressing need to bring the perpetrators and their supporters to justice.’
Marston nodded vigorously. ‘That’s clear.’
‘We also possess independent information concerning several other conspirators. This gives us additional opportunities to cooperate with the MIT, and with the CIA. The CIA is naturally as concerned as we are with terrorists crossing into Iraq at this time. Mutual assistance should benefit new investigations.’
Marston butted in. ‘Mutual may be right, but we must not expect cordiality.’
‘That is not my experience, Commodore.’
Marston quickly looked Ashe up and down. ‘Really, Ashe? And how does your experience touch this matter?’
The archdeacon came to Ashe’s rescue. ‘Dr Ashe will now demonstrate how November’s atrocities in Istanbul relate to this week’s Masonic Lodge bombing.’
The archdeacon’s tone could not disguise his pride in Toby Ashe, a pride that had taken root during the archdeacon’s residency at All Souls College, Oxford. Ashe was the archdeacon’s favourite secret service recruit.
‘Please explain to the committee, Dr Ashe, why you think an attack on a Masonic Lodge in Turkey could be al-Qaeda-inspired?’
Ashe smoothed his hair back behind his ears and took a deep breath. ‘Your expression “al-Qaeda-inspired” is a good one, Archdeacon. But I don’t think we should look at this event entirely within that frame.’
‘Why not?’ Marston was hot for controversy.
‘I’ll come to that, Commodore. But first I want to focus on why a certain kind of fundamentalist would focus on Freemasonry.’
Ashe was interrupted by a commotion at the door. A tall man with gaunt, ruddy features framed by a green polo neck was shown in by an unusually respectful Reynolds.
‘Ashe, I don’t think you know Brigadier Charles Radclyffe.’
Ashe stood up and reached across the table to shake the wiry Brigadier’s hand. To have the Director of Special Forces at an ODDBALLS meeting was unusual.
Something big was brewing.
6
Ankara, Turkey, 12.30 p.m.
Aslan squatted uncomfortably in a Bauhaus steel-framed chair. He was unimpressed by the state-of-the-art reception area and its portraits of the Turkish army’s high command, interspersed with colour prints of oil refineries, vehicle assembly lines and telecommunications facilities, terrestrial and orbital.
Aslan always dreaded the regular summonses to the Foundation for the Strengthening of the Turkish Security Forces. Ankara was another world, and the Foundation was a world within a world. Aslan accepted Turkey’s status quo for its broad social and political advantages, and preferred to overlook the details; it was none of his business how the army funded its activities – so long as the cheques kept coming. That the Foundation was exempt from taxes, or any democratic financial control, and that it owned considerable shares in Turkish Telecom, Goodyear, Shell and Renault, might look strange to an outsider, but it was simply logical given the overall shape of modern Turkey. The army must survive and flourish, and this he understood: that you get nothing for free in this world.
In spite of a civilian ministerial presence, Turkey’s National Security Council was still dominated by the army. While a rebalancing had recently been initiated in favour of the government, the army had a great deal of Turkey under exclusive control. The Foundation for the Strengthening of the Turkish Security Forces (TSKGV) was army owned and army run. General Ahmet Koglu, Chief of Staff of the General Secretariat of the National Security Council, had his agile fingers in this business, as he had in every politically and economically significant pie in Turkey.
Koglu had summoned Aslan to Turkey’s capital, Ankara, for a briefing. This was Koglu’s favourite office – far from Istanbul, the way he liked it.
The once handsome general, his chest emblazoned with medals, thrust open the large oak door. Aslan was hit by the chill of air-conditioning.
‘I hope you like medals, Colonel.’ Koglu smoothed the creases from h
is dark-blue uniform. ‘I have a meeting with the American Secretary of Defence this afternoon. Unofficial visit, but appearances…’ Koglu looked derisively at Aslan’s nylon zip-up jacket and open-necked shirt, ‘must be maintained. When did you cease wearing uniform in the Liaison Department, Colonel?’
‘We’ve never worn it, General. We interact with civilian personnel. That’s the point of the department, sir. Not to frighten the democrats!’
Koglu’s eyebrows rose in a slightly bored kind of way. ‘Yes… still, there’s always the danger of fraternising with them.’
The general showed Aslan into a vast, beautifully carpeted office, filled with antique furniture and Ottoman Caliphate porcelain. Exquisitely framed medieval manuscripts adorned the walls.
Koglu retired behind his white marble desk, grandly constructed in a crescent-moon shape, like the crescent of the Turkish flag. Aslan sank back into a modern red sofa while Koglu rubbed his second chin and tickled his finely trimmed black moustache. He reached for a small paperback in Arabic.
‘Ever read this, Colonel?’ Koglu tossed it over.
Aslan caught the book in mid-air, then flicked through the book with disdain. ‘Yes, sir, a long time ago. The Protocols of the Elders of Zion. But… don’t you have a copy in Turkish?’
Koglu smiled weakly. ‘I believe, Colonel, that this book has been made into a TV drama series in Cairo. And the title, by the way, is The Protocols of the Meetings of the Learned Elders of Zion.’
Aslan threw it back onto the general’s desk. ‘Hardly material for a daytime soap.’
‘Nevertheless, let us take a page at random. Ah! This looks interesting:
Who and what is in a position to overthrow an invisible force? And this is precisely what our force is. Gentile Masonry blindly serves as a screen for us and our objects, but the plan of action of our force, even its very abiding-place, remains for the whole people an unknown mystery.
‘This comes from Protocol No. 4. I can’t help thinking, Colonel, that this little book could be central to your investigations.’
‘It’s bullshit, sir.’
The general tapped his fingers on the desk. ‘It states here, Colonel, that these are the secret minutes of the first Zionist Congress, held in Basle in 1897. This is nothing less than a blueprint for the long-term project of Jewish world domination.’
‘Very long term, I should say, sir. Israel seems to be having a job defending a territory smaller than some of our lesser-known provinces.’
The general smiled again. ‘Quite so, Colonel. But I cannot help observing that the Jewish people have come a long way since 1897. In those days, Istanbul was the centre of the Ottoman Caliphate with an empire extending west and east from Bosnia to Medina. And the Jews were dhimmis: tolerated, but in their place; hardly even to be considered, other than for the demands of courtesy and good manners.’
Aslan couldn’t help raising his eyebrows. ‘Sir, The Protocols of the Learned Elders of Zion is a piece of shit concocted by some clever bastards in the Tsarist secret police – the Okhrana.’
‘Why would they do such a thing?’
‘Many Jewish intellectuals in Russia were communists, sir. They were perceived as threats to the Tsarist religious and social order. The Protocols were a clear attempt to play on the fears of invisible enemies – a concept familiar to you, surely, sir.’
‘I wonder what you might mean by that, Colonel.’
‘This was how the Tsarist order was governed, with the full backing of the Russian Orthodox Church. The leaders of the Orthodox Church have always hated Freemasonry. For them, it’s a rival spiritual power. So the Russian secret police put Jews and Freemasons together and… abracadabra! Conspiracy!’
Koglu sat back in his chair. ‘You seem very well informed in these matters, Colonel. Especially for one who, if you don’t mind me saying, told my – I mean our – chief of police, that he had never entered a Masonic Lodge before last week.’
Aslan coughed as he tried to think of an answer. ‘I can read, sir. I’ve been consulting the latest and the best research on the subject.’ That sounded a bit weak.
‘Good. Very good, Colonel. Then you will also agree with us, I hope, that where there is smoke, there is fire, and that all non-Turkish forces, are a threat—’
‘Potential threat, General.’
‘Potential threat, yes.’ The general looked to the ceiling for inspiration. ‘Tell me, Colonel. Was the bombing in Kartal a potential threat?’
Aslan also looked up to the plain ceiling. He felt Koglu’s eyes boring into him.
‘I’m sorry, was that a rhetorical question, or did the general want an answer?’
‘Answer.’
‘Could you repeat the question, sir?’
‘Was the bombing in Kartal a potential threat?’
‘No, sir.’
‘Good!’ Koglu smiled. He felt on top, at last. He took a deep breath, but Aslan got in first.
‘I mean, yes and no, sir. The bombing was not necessarily itself a threat. It could be seen as the execution of a threat already made, or it may have been a kind of opening salvo – a threat of worse to come. Perhaps the first stage in a demand. But that was not your original question, was it, sir? You were saying that all non-Turkish forces were a threat.’
‘Covert forces, Colonel! I said covert forces!’
‘Ah! I didn’t catch that.’
Koglu started sorting through papers on his desk in an effort to regain his composure.
‘Colonel Aslan, we are concerned – as you must be – that there may be more than meets the eye to this business.’
7
Koglu picked up a thin file, then dropped it unceremoniously onto a pile of black-and-white photographs. ‘I have read the chief of police’s interim report and I am far from satisfied. Perhaps you can enlighten me?’
Aslan paused. ‘First of all, sir, one of the perpetrators – the survivor – has confessed to murdering a Jewish dentist in Istanbul in 2003. This does suggest that the main target of the attack was Israel, rather than Freemasonry in particular.’
Koglu looked doubtful. ‘I cannot see the Israelis being hurt by an attack on a Turkish Lodge. But go on.’
‘Many Jewish businessmen and intellectuals belong to Turkey’s five Masonic organisations – which have, I believe, some 14,000 members.’
‘14,000? A significant number.’
‘That depends on the significance you wish to attach to the fact… sir.’
‘The bombing is significant.’
‘Regarding which, General, I think we should consider the Islamic Great Eastern Raiders Front.’
‘I thought we had IBDA-C either locked up or under close observation after the November bombing? Sixty-nine indictments only a fortnight ago.’
‘And a lawsuit is to be filed against another twelve suspects.’
‘Good! That’s something to tell the press!’
‘Indeed, sir. The point is that after the November bombings against British interests in Istanbul, the news agency Anadolu Ajansi received a call from a man who said those attacks were the joint work of IBDA-C and al-Qaeda.’
‘We already know this, Colonel.’
‘The man also said something that… well, it passed us by at the time.’
‘Yes?’
‘He said, “Our attacks on the centres of international Freemasonry will continue.”’
‘Is the Kartal Lodge a “centre of international Freemasonry”?’
‘Not exactly, sir. But from the point of view of the fundamentalist conspiracy theorist, any big British or US financial or political centre could be described as a centre of international Freemasonry, because they see Freemasonry and Zionism everywhere. That’s thanks to your anti-Semitic Protocols propaganda. According to the allegedly invisible “Elders of Zion”, the conspiracy is so vast that virtually any target is legitimate.’
General Koglu started rubbing his boot heels together.
‘Sir, we must work on scie
nce, not prejudice. After the bombing, the official statement of the Lodge read as follows…’ Aslan extracted a small card from his wallet. ‘“The bombing was an attack on modern and secular Turkish society.”’
‘Yes, Colonel. Celik wrote that at my dictation, then gave it to the Lodge Master to use.’
‘Then you agree with it?’
‘It was the right thing to say at the time.’
Koglu got up, folded his arms and turned towards the large plate-glass window. He gazed out at Ankara’s vast, monotonous panorama of grey, dusky blocks and conurbation. ‘I wonder, Aslan, what they out there would think of this discussion.’
‘Why don’t you ask them?’
‘Don’t be impertinent, Colonel.’
He turned to face Aslan. ‘If, as the Arabs have suggested, Jews and Freemasons contributed to the end of the caliphate, how can we be sure they don’t now oppose the regime that succeeded it?’
‘Jews and Freemasons are the victims of this bombing, sir, not its perpetrators! Nothing would please the extremists more than to hear this kind of conspiracy theory become a basis for policy. If we attack ourselves, we do their work for them.’
Koglu put his hands behind his back and locked his thumbs.
‘Nevertheless, Turkey must be prepared. The army must be alert to all interests that affect national security. One must cover all possibilities, without, as you say, prejudice.’
Aslan began to object but Koglu raised his right hand abruptly. ‘That is why, Colonel Aslan, I am requesting your department to ask all relevant local authorities – and you can get an article into Hürriyet while you’re about it – to assemble information on these individuals and groups.’