Archive for July, 2006

Muslim community reacts angrily at Shaikh – and CSIS

Friday, July 14th, 2006

The Globe and Mail, Friday, July 14, 2006

By SONYA FATAH

Members of Toronto’s diverse Muslim community reacted angrily to the identification of Mubin Shaikh as an RCMP and CSIS agent.

“This is like the pot calling the kettle black,” said Tarek Fatah, communications director for the Canadian Muslim Congress.

“He was the embodiment of extremism in the city. He was the exponent of sharia law in the city.”

Indeed, Mr. Sheikh has been a chief proponent of sharia law, lobbying for using the Islamic legal code at the Al-Noor Mosque, where he ran the Al-Noor Arbitration Centre, the only such centre in Canada.

“He was supporting some of the most extremist groups in Canada. Now, he’s throwing up modern and Canadian values.

“It brings into question whether he’s trying to salvage his own problems with the authorities.”

Mr. Fatah says that Mr. Shaikh’s divisive views on the Muslim community hardly represent Canadian values.

A different but equally damning view was expressed by Aly Hindy, the controversial imam of the Salahuddin Islamic Centre in Scarborough, attended by some of the 17 arrested youth.

Imam Hindy sees CSIS as a vehicle for radicalizing young people by infiltrating youth Muslim communities.

“The government and the people keep saying that we should not make our young people radical. CSIS is the one radicalizing the youth. I call him CSIS Shaikh.”

Mr. Hindy learned about Mr. Shaikh’s involvement as an agent in the terror case through members of the community, including parents of some of the accused.

An angry Mr. Hindy retaliated by saying that Mubin Shaikh was planted to radicalize young people.

“He was someone more knowledgeable about Islam. He has knowledge in Arabic. He has knowledge of the sharia. I saw this.

“We once had an open house in Mississauga. He talked to the men. He brought a lot of books. He had a lot of knowledge.”

Mr. Hindy says the young men were impressed by Mr. Shaikh.

When news of Mr. Shaikh’s involvement reached him, he had flashbacks of moments when he saw Mr. Shaikh making an effort with youth at his mosque.

“I remember I was standing outside Salahuddin. And he was standing there, playing with a lot of young people. Some of those guys got arrested.”

He recalls Mr. Shaikh attending high-level imam meetings, which he now believes were meant to source information.

Mr. Hindy alleges that Mr. Shaikh once told Salahuddin community members that the reason he didn’t attend the mosque there was out of fear of CSIS.

But then, Mr. Hindy says, Mr. Shaikh started coming to the mosque.

“This is not an informer,” he says angrily. “An informer is a good citizen who finds information and tells the law something is about to happen. This is dirty.”

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The making of a terror mole

Friday, July 14th, 2006

How a sharia activist infiltrated the ‘Toronto 17′ and helped authorities build a case against them

The Globe and Mail, July 14, 2006

SONYA FATAH and GREG MCARTHUR AND SCOTT ROBERTS

TORONTO — One night in October, a group of young Muslims gathered at a Toronto banquet hall and tried to raise money for two men who had recently been convicted of gun smuggling and imprisoned.

The event was supposed to help their cause — but it may end up being remembered as the night that Canada’s first home-grown Islamist terror cell came crashing down.

Among the men and women gathered in the room was an outsider named Mubin Shaikh, 30. He didn’t attend the same Mississauga or Scarborough mosques as the supporters in the hall, and he didn’t know many of the people in the room.

But he had instructions: Get to know Fahim Ahmad, the young man believed by authorities to be behind the gun-smuggling operation and an emerging terrorist cell.

The outsider approached Mr. Ahmad and told him about his training as a six-year member of the Royal Canadian Army Cadets. He told him about his survival skills and weapons training. He also told Mr. Ahmad that he believed firmly in jihad.

By the end of the evening, Mr. Shaikh was in.

That was 10 months ago, and since then, in media reports around the world, Mr. Ahmad has been identified as the ringleader of the so-called “Toronto 17,” the group of men and teenagers tied into an alleged plot to blow up three targets in Southern Ontario and storm Parliament Hill.

This is the story of the 18th man, the civilian mole and devout Muslim paid by CSIS and the RCMP to infiltrate Mr. Ahmad’s circle and thwart an alleged plot to blow up those targets. Over a series of discussions with The Globe and Mail, Mr. Shaikh detailed his motives for bringing down the alleged terrorist cell.

Above all, violence in Canada in the name of Islam cannot be tolerated, said Mr. Shaikh, who says he has learned to juggle his fierce commitment to both Islam and the secular values of Canadian society.

On one hand, he is an official at his west-end mosque, supports the jihads in Afghanistan and Iraq and was one of the most public supporters of the failed bid to introduce sharia law in Ontario, occasionally commenting on the debate on television.

On the other, he is also a onetime member of the York South-Weston Liberal Riding Association, whose family keeps a sticker of the Canadian flag on their mailbox.

“As a practising Muslim, the interests of the Muslim community are paramount,” Mr. Shaikh said.

“And as a Canadian, the safety and security of my fellow citizens is also primary.”

Mr. Shaikh started his new job more than two years ago when his Ottawa friend, 27-year-old Momin Khawaja, was arrested by the RCMP and accused of taking part in a foiled United Kingdom bomb plot.

Mr. Shaikh said he contacted the authorities because he thought he might be able to help in their investigation, and before long, he was put through the most rigorous of job interviews.

There was a polygraph test and some strange fact-gathering assignments. He also said he sought permission from his imam to join ranks with Canada’s spy service — permission that was granted.

As far as he could tell, he was one of the few bearded and brown-skinned employees of the Canadian Security Intelligence Service, but he says he never picked up any anti-Islamist sentiment. The agents’ only concern was the welfare of Canada, he said.

He soon became accustomed to the routine of being an agent: wearing a wire and flying to remote locations. One mission to Yemen to infiltrate a training camp, he said, ended unsuccessfully when authorities there didn’t let him enter the country.

Instead, Mr. Shaikh spent five days detained at the airport. Eventually, CSIS brought him back home. He financed his work by going to secret locations and receiving cash handoffs.

Those payments increased when he inserted himself into Mr. Ahmad’s circle — and so did the stakes.

Only two months after the banquet hall meeting, Mr. Shaikh joined Mr. Ahmad and some other young men on a 160-kilometre road trip to a snow-covered forest in Ramara Township, population 15,000.

For two weeks over the Christmas holidays, young men in military fatigues wandered around in the wilderness firing paintball guns and real guns and annoying the neighbours.

One of those neighbours was a grey-haired recluse who doesn’t own a phone. He was so annoyed that he left his trailer and travelled down the dirt road where the campers had parked their cars.

He wrote down the licence plate numbers of the four cars blocking his road and filed the information with the rest of the scattered documents he keeps in his Dodge minivan.

Six months later, a few days after the campers were arrested and accused of being terrorists, the hermit handed the licence plate numbers to a Globe reporter who went to see the training camp for himself.

Almost all of the licence plates made sense. Three of them were registered to the family members of Zakaria Amara, Ahmad Ghany and Qayyum Abdul Jamal — all of whom have been taken into custody on the terrorism charges.

But there was a fourth licence plate, attached to a blue minivan, that didn’t fit.

It was registered to Mr. Shaikh’s younger brother, Abu Shaikh.

Even with his extensive training on how to be clandestine, Mubin Shaikh does not blend in well at Toronto’s busiest intersection, the corner of Front and Bay Streets.

His long beard, which ends just below his pectoral muscles, and his kurta, a flowing grey robe, are in stark contrast with the commuters in collared shirts who whiz by on their way to the GO Train.

He stands on the corner describing his “surreal” predicament to a Globe reporter. Since the beginning of the investigation, he’s had to repeatedly prove his loyalty to both his employer and his emir, Mr. Ahmad.

One day during the investigation, he was driving Mr. Ahmad somewhere while being followed by undercover police officers.

When Mr. Ahmad noted that they were being tailed, the agent weaved through lanes of traffic, trying to shake off the people who pay his salary, he said.

He is also, he said, fearful of any reprisals that may stem from his co-operation in the case. Many people in the Muslim community suspect he was involved and the agent worries that a tiny fraction of them might take issue with him.

But he’s prepared to be scrutinized by all of his Canadian Muslim brothers and the defence lawyers of the accused, who will no doubt vigorously examine him about the $77,000 he says he’s earned, and the $300,000 he’s says he’s owed.

He acknowledged that his past isn’t completely unblemished, and that he didn’t completely embrace Islam until he was a young man after making trips to India, Pakistan and the Middle East.

He is now a married father, and his wife, a Polish convert to Islam, is expecting another child.

Some parts of his past, and his family’s past, will surely be revealed in court if the cases make it to trial.

Last year, his father was charged with sexual assault after a woman said she had been fondled by an Islamic chaplain who was supposed to be counselling her through a divorce. The outcome of that case is unknown to The Globe.

When asked about the accusation against his father, whose name is Mohammad Shahied Shaikh, Mr. Shaikh said he didn’t want to discuss it.

The RCMP mole was also once a witness at a friend’s second-degree murder trial and his testimony was the subject of an appeal.

Mr. Shaikh was also once accused of assaulting his aunt and was charged criminally, Mr. Shaikh told The Globe. Those charges were dropped, Mr. Shaikh said, adding that his credibility will remain intact with people who truly know him.

“Let the courts do their thing, and the evidence will come out there,” he said.

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India braces for more terror

Wednesday, July 12th, 2006

Reprisal strikes feared after train blasts kill scores of people, injure hundreds more

Wednesday, July 12, 2006
DAN McDOUGALL AND SONYA FATAH
Special to The Globe and Mail, with a report from Umarah Jamali in New Delhi

NEW DELHI and TORONTO — India is bracing for reprisal attacks today after a string of bomb blasts struck at seven spots along Mumbai’s commuter rail line, killing more than 190 people, injuring hundreds more and raising fears of sectarian violence.

Prime Minister Manmohan Singh called yesterday’s attack “evil” and “cowardly,” but also appealed for peace between Muslims and Hindus as suspicion fell on Muslim extremists.

“I urge the people to remain calm,” he said, “not to believe rumours and carry on their activity normally.”

Indians, however, were preparing for the worst.

“I have closed down my shop early today,” said one Muslim shopkeeper near an area of Mumbai where militant Hindus are active. “I think I shall not open my shop for [the] next few days. . . . If Muslims did this, they are doing it wrong. They are acting against the teachings of Islam. Islam is against any violence against innocent people.”

No group had taken responsibility yesterday for the bombings, which killed at least 190 people and injured more than 600.

Police officials said last night that they had no idea who masterminded the attacks. although many senior officers quickly pointed the finger of suspicion at Muslim militant groups fighting to wrest the predominantly Muslim and disputed Kashmir region from India.

Indian officials blamed one such group for a bombing attack at a New Delhi market last October that killed more than 60 people.

One analyst suggested that the recent improvement in India’s relations with the United States, culminating most recently in an agreement to share nuclear technology, could have given militants extra impetus to carry out yesterday’s attack.

“Anybody seen to be part of the U.S. camp automatically becomes a target of Muslim extremists,” said Ashok Mehta, an independent security analyst based in New Delhi. “You could see many more attacks in India.”

Yesterday’s bombs struck mostly passengers in the first-class carriages of the busy Western Railway and were timed for when the trains were at their busiest, shuttling workers home from work in India’s financial capital, formerly known as Bombay and the embodiment of India’s rush to modernize.

There were conflicting reports on the exact timing, but the explosions began shortly after 6 p.m., and struck in rapid succession at seven sites, with two bombs at one location.

It was unclear last night whether the blasts were the work of suicide bombers, as was the case in the London transit attack that killed 52 people just more than a year ago, or planted explosives, as with the Madrid train strikes that killed 191 people in March of 2004.

Gruesome scenes from yesterday’s attacks dominated Indian television, which began referring to the day as 7/11. Images of a middle-aged man, his body severed in two, crying for help as his fellow passengers carried him away, were broadcast repeatedly. Shoes, handbags, clothes and other items littered the railway tracks. Body parts were strewn everywhere. Some of the victims were said to have jumped from exploding rail cars, only to be struck by other trains.

Survivors last night told of massive explosions and scenes of devastation.

“We heard a loud blast in one of the train compartments. When we rushed there and looked, we saw people with severed limbs and grievous injuries,” one survivor said, standing outside a local police station in a blood-soaked shirt. “There were no police or railway people to help and we had to carry the victims onto the street and into rickshaws and cars to get them to hospital.”

Things were no less chaotic at the hospitals, where the dead lay in hallways covered in white sheets on blood-soaked floors as medical workers scrambled to attend to the streams of wounded.

The massive rescue effort required to bring the dead and injured to nearby hospitals was hampered by heavy monsoon rains, a shortage of ambulances and the lack of a co-ordinated emergency response system.

In response to the attacks, authorities put Mumbai and the capital New Delhi on high alert and beefed up security across the country. Police set up checkpoints in bazaars and public places across the country’s major cities, and increased patrols in sensitive areas in an effort to ward off potential clashes in areas with large Muslim populations.

The Mumbai blasts came hours after seven people, including six Indian tourists, were killed by suspected Islamist militants in a series of grenade attacks in Srinagar, the capital city of the disputed territory of Kashmir over which India and Pakistan have fought three wars.

India has accused Pakistan’s President Pervez Musharraf of being too soft in his war against terrorism, and says Pakistan is not doing enough to rein in terrorists infiltrating India through the Kashmiri border to carry out attacks. Both Gen. Musharraf and Pakistani Prime Minister Shaukat Aziz, however, were quick to condemn the attack. “This despicable act of terrorism has resulted in the loss of a large number of precious lives,” a spokeswoman for Pakistan’s foreign office said.

Terrorist attacks are not new to Mumbai. During the last decade there have been a series of strikes against the public. In March of 1993, 13 bombs went off, one of them in the city’s stock exchange. More than 250 people died and thousands were injured. Authorities pinned those attacks on the city’s underworld of organized crime. Crime boss Dawood Ibrahim has been a fugitive since. Indian authorities say he is hiding in Pakistan.

In an effort to maintain calm across the city, authorities called on people to resume their daily lives. Schools would be open as usual. And although a handful of long-distance trains scheduled for departure from Mumbai yesterday were cancelled, the targeted railway had resumed all its suburban services by midnight.

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FM Mullahs

Saturday, July 1st, 2006

Columbia Journalism Review, July/August 2006

On a hot Monday afternoon in late March hundreds of armed men brandishing black flags descended upon Bara, a village in the tribal badlands that straddle the Pakistan-Afghanistan border. They were on a mission to hunt down and kill the green-flag-bearing followers of Pir Saifur Rahman, a Muslim cleric. The men in black, followers of a rival cleric, Mufti Munir Shakir, reached the Rahman stronghold in Badshahkili, a neighborhood in Bara, fourteen miles west of Peshawar, and a day-long battle — involving mortars, assault rifles, and both hand- and rocket-propelled grenades — ensued. By Tuesday afternoon, some twenty-five men were dead and fourteen seriously wounded.

In this largely autonomous frontier zone about the size of Vermont, officially known as the Federally Administered Tribal Areas, or FATA, such skirmishes, often over honor or land, are common. But recent encounters have added an interesting media twist to these ancient feuds, and earned men like Shakir and Rahman a new title: FM Mullahs. Since Pakistan’s president, General Pervez Musharraf, allied with the United States in its so-called war on terror, scores of mullahs have set up illegal radio stations in the FATA and other frontier regions to preach and rail against the West and its lackeys. Until 2002, radio in Pakistan was state-run. The Musharraf government promised media reform, and there are now more than fifty private radio stations operating across Pakistan. Most, however, are in the Punjab, Pakistan’s richest province. In the FATA all legal stations — there are four — are still state-run. The resulting pirate radio boom is largely the byproduct of the government’s determination to withhold licenses from jihadi or pro-Indian groups, and the emergence of cheap, portable broadcasting equipment — some of the mullahs attach transmitters to bicycles and pedal about preaching.

Solid numbers are hard to come by, but Pakistani officials estimate that there are dozens of pirate broadcasters in the FATA alone. The more extreme of these FM Mullahs preach jihad; most simply provide translations of the Koran. But in the case of Mufti Shakir and Pir Rahman, at least, competing religious visions met the power of talk radio and its attendant financial rewards, with deadly consequences.

Neither Mufti Shakir nor Pir Rahman is native to the FATA region. Rahman, an Afghan who arrived in the 1970s, preaches Barelvi, a more tolerant and flexible strain of Islam, and has long had a significant following in the region. Two years ago, Mufti Shakir, a kind of circuit preacher, showed up in the Khyber Agency, one of thirteen districts in the FATA. Shakir, a proponent of the Deobandi school of Islam, which is a stricter, more orthodox interpretation that was once followed by the Taliban, set up a makeshift radio operation in his courtyard, and began to preach. (Before landing in the FATA, Shakir had been thrown out of the Kurram Agency, which borders the Khyber Agency to the north, by tribal elders there for fanning sectarian hatred.)

In the FATA, Shakir’s radio ministry quickly drew hundreds of supporters, many of them away from Rahman. Not to be outdone, Pir Rahman launched his own radio operation in 2005.

It isn’t clear just who listens to the FM Mullahs, but locals say women have a lot to do with their success. Shakir and Rahman air religion-based question-and-answer programs (often about social issues such as marriage and duty) which appeal to the conservative, isolated women in these tribal villages. The clerics convince women that it is their religious duty to ensure that their husbands, brothers, and sons observe Islam properly, dress properly, grow beards. Villagers in the region are hardly rich, but collectively they help finance clerical operations by donating whatever cash, gold, and jewelry they can afford. One woman in the Swat region was so moved by the broadcasts of another militant cleric, Maulana Faizullah, that she reportedly donated 300 grams of gold (worth more than $6,000).

When Shakir and Rahman discovered that they were competing for the same audience — and the same financial support — each began to use their broadcasts to attack the other as un-Islamic. In December 2005, tribal elders in the Bara area, fearing that the war of words would escalate to violence, denounced religious leaders — Shakir and Rahman in particular — for fomenting sectarian tension through their broadcasts. But efforts by local administrators to shut down the illegal stations were in vain; the clerics had amassed hundreds of armed supporters.

In the wake of this denunciation by the elders, both Rahman and Shakir went into hiding, but Shakir anointed a successor — a local driver named Mangal Bagh — who took over his radio operation and launched Lashkar-e-Islam (Army of Islam), an extremist Islamist group. The tension between the two groups continued to mount. Pir Rahman’s followers claimed that the local political administration was favoring the followers of Mufti Shakir, and said Shakir was responsible for the deaths of fifty people. Shakir countered by demanding that all of Rahman’s houses and property be handed over to Shakir’s followers. The bloodshed of March 29 was the culmination of months of this on-air pot-stirring.

In the wake of the March skirmish, Pakistan sent 8,000 troops from its Frontier Corps to quell the tensions. With specific orders to root out the engine of hate, the soldiers shelled Shakir’s headquarters, and Mangal Bagh was told to leave. He at first refused, but after a series of ultimatums by the government, Bagh, too, went into hiding. Although Shakir was reportedly arrested at the Karachi airport, and Rahman seems to have shut down — his more tolerant version of Islam apparently has less appeal in the increasingly radicalized frontier — the saga of the FM Mullahs is hardly finished. In April, five more men were killed in a clash between followers of the two clerics, and in early June Bagh’s Lashkar-e-Islam fighters took the bazaar in Bara hostage. Bagh, meanwhile, is rumored to be still in the region, still at the mike.

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