Acts of Sedition

by Dennis Stephan

  “He sounds like the kind of guy I’d have liked.”

  “That’s for sure. You mentioned Omar Khalid. Ulfat was Omar’s uncle, so his sons are cousins of the White House Chief of Staff. They lived with Omar for years and came to the US with his family. When I spoke to the two boys a couple of weeks ago, they told me about a group of dissenters.”

  “Are you suggesting that Muslims might go against another Muslim?”

  “I don’t know. And I’m not sure they’d be interested in speaking with you, but I think you need to talk to the boys, Josh. I’m not involved but I can make the introduction.”

  “I just can’t imagine that they would help me.”

  “Well you have something in common. They hate Omar.”

  “That is a good start. Will you reach out to the boys in short order? Time is of the essence.”

  “I will, Josh, and please let’s keep this conversation between us for now.”

  “You have my word. Thanks Baltazar.”

  Chapter 30

  Josh received a call the following day from Qasim Khalid.

  Qasim explained to Josh, who he was, some background about his family and how he knew Dr. Jabili. Josh was impatient but sometimes hearing someone speak, their phraseology or even their pauses, told a lot about their personalities.

  “Tell me Qasim. I’ve heard rumors that much of the Muslim community in the Boston area is unhappy with the way the current administration is running the country. Is that a fact?”

  While the introduction, and recommendation, by Dr. Jabili went a long way with Qasim, he was never the less a little guarded.

  “I don’t know too much. I just met a few people who seem to be as you describe.”

  “Is this a large group, Qasim and has there been any talk among the leaders there about trying to have the president impeached or maybe starting an opposition party to defeat him in the next election?”

  “The group is small right now, and there is talk. But talk is cheap General Redmond. Usually, nothing comes of it.”

  Josh decided that this game of rope a dope wasn’t going to get them anywhere. “Well, I can tell you that there are groups in New York and Philly, who want just that and that they are meeting and discussing those very issues. I was calling you to see what your mood was. There is a great deal of hesitancy among the members in those cities, especially the primarily Jewish group in New York, towards working with Muslims; even if they have common goals. Their fear, Qasim, is that no matter how much they hate President Abbas, Muslims will stick together and can’t be trusted.”

  "General, I came to America as a teen. When my father was killed in Syria, I went to live with his brother's family. I spoke some English that my parents wanted me to learn. They said, 'Son, in the west there is freedom and civilization. You must go there if you are to succeed in this world’. I’ve learned a lot since I’ve been here about people and religions. I have strong faith but I hold no ill will toward any religion. I believe my father was right and I’m just sorry that he, my mother and my sister were not able to share what I have found here. You know General, I believe that Islam is the story and I have learned a lot from Christians, who have what they call ‘The Word’. I have learned ways of better understanding the Quran and what it asks of me and I hope that I am a better person and that I might be an example.”

  Before the general could utter a sound, Qasim continued with a rhetorical question.

  “How can that be, you might ask? What is it that Islam demands of me? It is the ‘Great Jihad’ of the soul--perhaps our ‘Way of the Cross’, the darkest night of one’s inner self. In my old country, I lived in a world of ignorance and darkness. Many grew long beards, professing to be holy, only to teach the ignorant to hate and destroy. I had no freedom to struggle for my soul. Can this be done without freedom? Where else but here could someone become what Allah wanted? Can you not see the irony, General? My uncle, who stood for everything father hated, decided to bring my brother and me to the one place where this was possible. In America, and maybe only in America could I be a true Muslim able to practice what Allah asks of each man. My parents taught us that we are all children of Allah and in our own way must seek our destinies.”

  “So General, I see America as a true Muslim country as it is truly a Judeo-Christian country because God saw fit to bless it. And The Constitution affords the freedom for each of us to thrive and worship him in our own way.”

  “Of course, there is prosperity. Allah wants his children to enjoy the fruits of their honest labors. Wasn't that what the prophet promised the people freed from Byzantine corruption 1,400 years ago? And didn't Islam bring science and learning to the West at one time? And now the West has it, and it must be sought out and without pride used to advance the world.”

  Josh hadn’t wanted to sit through a lengthy speech, but it would have been rude to interrupt, and it did give him some insight into Qasim’s personality. Here was a man of conviction. He seemed sincere and spoke with passion.

  “And what about President Abbas?” asked Josh.

  “Ah, Ahmad al-Abbas. I fear that he loses his grip. He imitates the emirs who seek to control the fanatics who can only recite the Quran but understand nothing. He suppresses the voices of the people as the imams did in my country and the mullahs did in Iran. He is turning America into what I fled."

  Suddenly, Josh realized how important it was to understand that people are either good or not regardless of their religion. He didn’t know if he could convince Saul, Aaron, and the other Jews in New York of this but he felt confident in his assessment of Qasim as a real American. He loved his passion and that was something that he wanted to tap to energize all of the groups.

  Josh politely listened to Qasim speak about his brother and how much he hated Abbas. He then took over the conversation. After going into more detail about their plans, Josh asked him if he would be willing to join in their crusade, so to speak. He told him that he was having a meeting in a few days in New York and wanted the group to meet him and his brother, Makim, if not in person, at least via video chat. Qasim agreed, and Josh felt, for the first time, that this was truly bipartisan and a just cause.

  Chapter 31

  The Burj Al Arab Hotel in downtown Boston looked just like its namesake in Dubai, only more modern. The hotel in Dubai built 50 years ago, was older but still one of the nicest hotels in the Middle East. This hotel, conveniently located next to the silver line, opened just three months ago, so everything was shiny and new. Situated on Boston Harbor on the site of the once famous, Seaport Boston Hotel, which had been thoroughly destroyed by fire on Christmas Eve 2043, The Burj, Arabic for Tower, with its unique sail shape, made you feel like you could sail it into the Atlantic.

  While the original plan had been to meet for dinner at Qasim’s house, Tarif had phoned late last night and suggested that it would be better if they met in a more public place for lunch instead. Although the logic of that escaped him, Qasim had agreed. He guessed that maybe a little paranoia was setting in. He expected that this meeting would tell him a lot.

  Qasim arrived just before noon. He assumed that Tarif had selected this particular hotel because no one would pay much attention to two men of Arab decent having lunch in an Arab hotel.

  As he sat at the table sipping an Arak, he thought about Tarif’s motives and what role Tarif might play in his plans. While at first he wondered, now he worried about the reason they couldn’t meet at his house. To him, that seemed like the more secure place to meet, if that was in fact what Tarif was thinking.

  “Assalamu ‘Alaikum,” Tarif interrupted his thoughts.

  Qasim replied,”Wa’alaikum Assalam” as they shook hands and exchanged a kiss on the cheek.

  “Tarif, it’s nice to see you again.” Qasim motioned to the waiter to bring another Arak.

  “How is Heela?” Qasim remembered Tarif’s wife as an intelligent, dark skinned woman who came to the US as a little girl from her home in Saudi Arabia. She was a head t
urner but unlike many American-born women who have men drooling over them, Heela was down to earth and fun loving.

  “She’s doing very well,” Tarif said while looking around the restaurant. “Wow, this place is something. I suggested this by reputation, but I’ve never eaten here before. What’s good on the menu?”

  Qasim studied the menu a minute and offered his opinion that the lamb roast along with kabsa was excellent. “Of course, it may not be as good as Heela’s.”

  “Well,” said Tarif, “Heela doesn’t make kabsa too often as she finds it easier just to put Rice-A-Roni in a pot. Don’t forget that she came to this country when she was three years of age. She’s more American than Saudi. So, I think I’ll try the roast.”

  They ordered another drink and then placed their food order.

  While waiting, they continued their small talk. Everyone was well. Heela was a doctor at Boston General. Their two high school age children were doing well in private school in Cambridge where Tarif and Heela lived. Well, actually where they lived on the weekends. During the week, Tarif resided in an apartment off Dupont Circle in DC. As deputy chief of staff, Tarif had a lot of flexibility in his work schedule. He flew to Washington on Sunday night and worked through Thursday. He then returned to Boston on Thursday night and spent the weekend with his family, although more times than not he was on his cell with DC discussing some simple problem at a White House dinner party or special affair. Now and then something important came up, but he was usually pretty relaxed on weekends. In any event, other than the commute, life was good.

  The waiter served the food, and it was as good as Qasim had suggested. Tarif wished he could ask for seconds, but he was more interested in where this meeting was going.

  “So Qasim, you didn’t ask me to lunch to discuss family and food. What’s on your mind?”

  “Well actually, I invited you to dinner, but why quibble,” Qasim joked.

  Tarif said nothing, so he moved on.

  “So how is the job working out and what kind of work are you doing?”

  “It’s a good job, but it’s just a job, you know. I’m mostly helping your cousin Omar manage the White House staff. That’s all there is to tell.”

  Good answer but not so fast.

  Really, Tarif? That’s all you do? I would think that the deputy chief of staff would be more involved in the running of the country.

  Qasim was trying to be subtle, but that wasn’t his style. Surely Tarif guessed by now that he was being vetted for some reason and, as he was about to speak, Qasim threw him off guard by asking “Why did you not want to meet at my house?”

  After a slight hesitation, Tarif said that he may have been overly cautious. He explained that he had been able to get people in the Boston area to mention Qasim by name when he merely asked if they had witnessed or heard about any new Muslim civic groups forming or about any unusual meetings being held. He explained that he was afraid other members of the president’s “A” team might have been able to do that same thing. Although the president had specifically asked Tarif to see what he could find through his contacts, the paranoia in the White House was spreading. If anyone even suspected Qasim of wrongdoing and learned that the two of them had spent a considerable amount of time at his house, it could mean big trouble for Tarif. Spending hours there, he explained, could be misconstrued as a lot more than a friendly hour-long lunch between old friends.

  He let that one go but stayed on task.

  “I understand. Let me ask you this. What do you think of President Abbas and his agenda and direction for this country?”

  Tarif was thinking, and Qasim half expected him to dance around some of these questions by spouting the old party line.

  Instead, Tarif’s candidness was like a breath of fresh air.

  “To be honest, Qasim, I don’t like the president very much at all, and I hate your cousin, Omar. I don’t believe that they care about anyone but themselves and the power that they can wield. The president has persuaded his friends to push new legislation that would allow him to rule forever. Oh sure it’s starting out as doing away with term limits but I know his agenda and what he wants is a lifetime job as president.”

  “Does he confide in you?”

  He’s been speaking more freely with me of late even though I’m more of an underling, given that I report directly to your cousin Omar. Certainly Omar is Ahmad’s main guy. However over the past week or so the president has asked me to join the meetings.

  “I don’t know the President that well, Tarif. Is he a suspicious man by nature?”

  “He is. He’s the kind of person who fears the unknown and hates surprises. If you present him with a serious problem, he’s great at finding a solution. But if there are a lot of unanswered questions; if he doesn’t have all of the facts, it drives him nuts.”

  “And what is his state of mind right now?”

  “He believes that there is something afoot, and he doesn’t like it or, at least, he doesn’t like the idea of it. And, after the attempted assassination, he isn’t taking any chances. Until he knows for sure, he’ll be very uneasy. Anyway, he said in the last meeting that he wants all hands on deck regarding finding out what possible threats there are.”

  “Why did he suddenly call you into the meeting, Tarif?”

  “For one thing, he believes that, like Omar, I am totally devoted to him. Also, he’s heard the rumors of radical anti-Abbas groups forming in the big cities on the east coast. The president told me that he had great Intel in Philly and New York. I can only assume that he has no Intel here in Boston and, knowing that I’m from Boston and come home regularly; he’s hoping that I’ll uncover some plot. He will laugh and say ‘I know I'm just paranoid.' But when I don’t respond in any way, he gets an anxious look on his face.”

  “Do you think he's just paranoid, Tarif?”

  “Ah but that’s where this gets interesting my friend. What I think doesn’t matter, does it? The real question is for you to answer. Is he just being paranoid or is there justification for his concerns?”

  Qasim wasn’t much for cat and mouse games. “Tarif, if there was something underfoot in Boston where would your loyalties lie; with trusted friends or with your bosses?”

  “My grandfather was from Egypt you know. He had an old saying that applies here. He would answer you as I do now ‘If you marry a monkey for his money, the money will go away, and the monkey will stay the same.”

  “Are you toying with me, Tarif, because I don’t understand your answer? So let me rephrase my question. I know that you have a good, respectable job with a good salary. There is some risk. How important is keeping your job to you?”

  “As I said, Qasim, I don’t like the president, and I’m concerned about the future for this and later generations. He has an agenda, and he’s pushing toward it no matter what.”

  “Then I can count on your discretion and loyalty.”

  “You can, Qasim.”

  Qasim smiled but still wasn’t sure about Tarif. Was he someone who could be trusted to help them or was he a faithful member of Abbas’ inner circle out to get information from him?

  “Tell me then. What has the president up his sleeves?”

  Tarif explained what he knew of the Abbas’ thinking regarding changes to his foreign policies in the Middle East, about the handling of protests, and about the actions that he had planned to ensure that he and his cabinet would rule without much distraction.

  After hearing Tarif divulge some obviously secret information, Qasim felt a little more comfortable sharing some of his thoughts. He was still cautious, but he felt that he had few options. He needed someone on the inside, and while he still could not totally trust him, he felt that he should engage him to a point and decide later whether to include him further. In other words, Tarif would be on a short leash until he proved his allegiance.

  He explained what he and his brother had been talking about. He discussed the issues he had with the current administration and the grou
p of Arab Americans who had been meeting in Boston twice a week to hatch a plan to unseat the president. Qasim felt it imperative, at this stage, to make Tarif believe that he was talking about using peaceful means to accomplish their goals. He then asked Tarif for his thoughts.

  “Well my friend,” said Tarif, “I’m not sure that anyone can accomplish what you want peacefully. I’m not privy to everything that is going on within the Administration, but I keep my eyes and ears open. I don’t like what I know, and can only imagine that what I don’t know is far worse.”

  Tarif explained that the president planned to issue more executive orders in the next week that would further restrict the freedoms that Americans had come to expect. Despite the first lady’s objection, apparently among those under consideration were fairly strict travel restrictions on women.

  “Do you know how that alone will change the face of American business where women have routinely run companies and flown worldwide?” said Tarif. “This on top of the newly instituted clothing rules for women and the banning of all abortion and any means of contraception. Women in most of the world have the right to vote, but Abbas is seeking ways to restrict that right. I hear that he wants to review the entire Constitution, especially as it relates to first and second amendment rights. He’s already shown a disdain for the first amendment. He believes that too much freedom of speech only results in problems and further unrest. And, after the first lady’s shooting, he would love to get handguns off the streets. Of course, the NRA will never stand for that.”

  Tarif spoke with passion.

  “Look at what has happened in America regarding religious freedom. If you’re a Muslim, you can attend Jum’ah every Friday. If you work, your employer must now give you paid time off to attend the lunchtime service. Did you know that there are over 30,000 mosques in the US? Catholics make up only 8% of the population. There are only 6,000 churches and only 1200 practicing priests. While there are no policies against other religions, and there is no outward hostility that I know of toward Jews and Christians, most Catholics feel the need to take shelter; praying at home. Protestants fair a little better, but Jews have a tough time because teenagers, for some reason, have targeted synagogues for acts of vandalism, including burning some of them to the ground. I’m sorry” said Tarif. “I’ve monopolized the conversation.”