Dirty Wars: The World Is a Battlefield

2. Anwar Awlaki: An American Story

THE UNITED STATES AND YEMEN, 1971–2002—The world was a different place when George W. Bush was campaigning for president in 2000. The date 9/11 held no particular significance for Americans and Osama bin Laden was not the center of attention for the US military and intelligence machine. For many Arabs and Muslims, the Clinton era had resulted in crushed hopes that the Palestine issue would be negotiated in their favor. Many Muslim Americans saw Bush, not Clinton’s vice president, Al Gore, as their best hope in the 2000 presidential election. But it wasn’t just Palestine. Many Muslims also shared the conservative social values embraced by evangelical Christians like Bush, on issues of marriage, gay rights and abortion. One such American Muslim was a young imam from New Mexico named Anwar al Awlaki. “Yes, we disagree with a lot of issues when it comes to the foreign policy of the United States,” Awlaki said in 2001. “We are very conservative when it comes to family values. We are against the moral decay that we see in the society. But we also cherish a lot of the values that are in America. Freedom is one of them; the opportunity is another.”

In many ways, Awlaki’s story was a classic tale of people from a faraway land seeking a better life in America. His father, Nasser Awlaki, was a brilliant young student from Yemen who came to the United States on a Fulbright scholarship in 1966 to study agricultural economics at New Mexico State University. “I read a lot about the United States when I was only fifteen years old,” Nasser recalled. “My impression of the US, when I was young boy in elementary and junior high school, was that America is a land of democracy, and the land of opportunities. I yearned all the time to have my studies in the United States of America.” When he arrived, Nasser went first to Lawrence, Kansas, to study English and then headed for New Mexico. “I wanted to know and meet people of the New World who built one of the most progressive nations the world has ever known,” he declared in an essay introducing himself to fellow classmates in the United States. Nasser wrote that he wanted to get an education “in order to help my people become more progressive and advanced.” He had married right after he completed high school but could not afford to bring his wife, Saleha, to live with him in the United States on his $167 monthly stipend. “Because I wanted to get my wife back, I finished my schooling for a bachelor’s degree in agriculture in only two years and nine months,” he told me when we met in his large, modern home in Sana’a, the Yemeni capital in December 2011. After graduating, Nasser headed back to Yemen, got his wife a visa and returned to Las Cruces, New Mexico, where he completed his master’s degree. On April 22, 1971, their baby boy, Anwar, was born. “In those days, it was OK to distribute cigars to your fellow graduate students,” he laughed. “It was written on it: ‘It’s a Boy.’ And it was an unbelievable day for me, when Anwar was born. In Las Cruces Memorial Hospital.”

Nasser wanted to raise Anwar as an American, not just in nationality but also in character. In 1971, when the family moved so Nasser could complete his PhD at the University of Nebraska, they signed young Anwar up for swimming lessons at the local YMCA. “He was actually swimming when he was only two and a half years old,” Nasser recalled. “And he was very brilliant at it.” As we sat in his living room at his home in Sana’a, Nasser pulled out the family photo album and showed me pictures of little Anwar, posed on a rug in a staged picture taken at a shopping mall. Eventually, the family settled down in St. Paul, where Nasser got a job at the University of Minnesota and enrolled Anwar at Chelsea Heights Elementary School. “He was an all-American boy,” he said, showing me a picture of Anwar in his classroom. Anwar, with long, flowing hair, is smiling as he points out Yemen on a globe. Another family photo shows a lanky adolescent Anwar wearing sunglasses and a baseball hat at Disneyland. “Anwar was really raised like any other American boy, he used to like sports and he was very brilliant at school, you know. He was a good student, and he participated in all kinds of sports.”

In 1977, Nasser decided to move the family back to Yemen—for how long he did not know. Nasser believed he had an obligation to use his US education to help his very poor home country. He knew that he wanted Anwar to return to the United States one day for university, but he also believed it would be good for the young boy to learn about his family’s homeland. So, on the last day of 1977, the family returned to Sana’a. Six-year-old Anwar could barely speak Arabic, though he quickly picked it up. He had risen to number four in his class in Sana’a by the end of his first semester and within a year was speaking Arabic with ease. Nasser and his colleagues eventually started a private school that taught in both English and Arabic. Anwar was in the first class, along with Ahmed Ali Abdullah Saleh, the son of Yemen’s president. The two boys would be classmates for eight years. Ahmed Ali would go on to become one of the most feared men in Yemen and the head of its Republican Guard. Anwar, meanwhile, set off on a course to follow in his father’s academic footsteps.

Anwar would spend the next twelve years in Yemen, as his father became closer to his American friends in Sana’a. Nasser and several other US- and British-educated Yemenis worked with the US Agency for International Development (USAID) and started a college of agriculture with $15 million in funding from the United States. In 1988, Nasser was appointed Yemen’s minister of agriculture. After Anwar finished high school in Yemen, a colleague of Nasser’s from USAID offered to help find a good college for Anwar in the United States. Nasser wanted his son to study “civil engineering, particularly regarding hydraulics, and the problem of water resources in Yemen. Because Yemen is really suffering from the shortage of water.” His USAID friend suggested Colorado State University (CSU) and helped Anwar get a US government scholarship. In order for Anwar to get the scholarship, he had to have a Yemeni passport. “At that time, I was just a regular university professor, I didn’t have the finances to send my son to study in the United States at my own expense,” recalled Nasser. “So the American USAID director told me it is easy, if Anwar can get a Yemeni passport, then he will be qualified for the scholarship from USAID. So, we got Anwar a Yemeni passport.” The Yemeni authorities listed his birthplace as Aden, Yemen. This would later cause trouble for Anwar.

ANWAR LANDED AT O’HARE AIRPORT in Chicago on June 3, 1990, and then moved to Fort Collins, Colorado, to study civil engineering. “His dream, as a young man, was really to finish his studies [in the United States] and come and serve in Yemen,” said Nasser. During Anwar’s first year at the university, the United States launched the Gulf War against Iraq. Nasser recalled a phone call he received from Anwar when the US bombs started falling on Baghdad. He was watching Peter Arnett, the famed CNN correspondent, reporting from the Iraqi capital. “He saw pictures from CNN that it was a complete blackout over Baghdad. So Anwar was thinking that Baghdad was really, completely destroyed. Baghdad has a lot of cultural meaning to Muslims, because it was the site of the Abbasid dynasty. So he was really disappointed at what happened. And so at that time he started really to worry about general Muslim problems.”

Anwar admitted that when he first went to the United States for college, he “was not [a] fully practicing” Muslim, but after the Gulf War began he started to become politicized and eventually headed up the Muslim Student Association on campus. Anwar had also become interested in the war in Afghanistan and, during winter break in 1992, Anwar traveled to the country. The US-backed mujahedeen had expelled the Soviet occupiers in 1989, yet Afghanistan remained embroiled in civil war and the country was a popular destination for young Muslims, including a staggering number of Yemenis, to explore a front of jihad. “The invasion of Kuwait took place, followed by the Gulf War. That is when I started taking my religion more seriously,” Anwar later recalled. “I took the step of traveling to Afghanistan to fight. I spent a winter there and returned with the intention of finishing up in the US and leaving to Afghanistan for good. My plan was to travel back in summer; however, Kabul was opened by the mujahedeen and I saw that the war was over and ended up staying in the US.”

Anwar’s grades started slipping at the university as he became more invested in politics and religion. He later claimed that he lost his scholarship because of his activism. “Word came to me from a connection at the US Embassy in Sana’a, that they have been receiving reports about my Islamic activities on campus and the fact that I have traveled to Afghanistan and this was the single reason for the termination of my scholarship,” he alleged. In retrospect, this appears to have been a defining moment in Anwar’s trajectory. A spark had been created that, when combined with the events that followed it, altered his path. Years later, Anwar theorized that the scholarship he was given was part of a US government plot to recruit students from around the world as agents for America. “The US government through its programs of scholarships for foreign students has created for itself a pool of cadres around the world. From among these are leaders in every field, heads of state, politicians, businessmen, scientists, etc. They have one thing in common: They were all students in American Universities,” he wrote. “These programs have helped the US bolster its strength worldwide and spread out its control. The way the US is managing an empire without calling it an empire is one of the great innovations of our time.” The story he told about himself was one of a rare individual who had resisted this imperial design. “The plans to have me as one of the many thousand men and women around the world who have their loyalty to the US did not go through. I wasn’t suitable for that role anymore. I was a fundamentalist now!”

The members of the Awlaki family did not consider themselves particularly religious, just good Muslims who prayed five times a day and tried to live their lives in accordance with the Koran. Religion was not unimportant by any means, but for the Awlakis, their tribal identity came first. They were also modern people with relationships with international diplomats and businessmen. As he was becoming politicized, Anwar attended a mosque near his university in Colorado and the local imam asked him to deliver a sermon one Friday. Anwar agreed and realized he had a gift for public speaking. He began to think that maybe preaching, not engineering, was his true calling. “He was a very, very, very promising person. And we were hoping for a good future for him,” recalled Anwar’s uncle, Sheikh Saleh bin Fareed, a wealthy businessman and the head of the Aulaq tribe in Yemen. “I think Anwar was born to be a leader. It was in his blood, and his mentality.”

Anwar graduated from CSU in 1994 and decided to stay in Colorado after graduation. He married a cousin from Yemen and took a job as an imam at the Denver Islamic Society. Nasser told me that Anwar never spoke of becoming an imam when he left for America but that he fell into it after being asked to preach a few times. “He thought this is an area where he can be [of help] and can do something. So I guess it started just by coincidence. But then I guess he liked it, so he decided to shift from professional engineering” to a vocation preaching Islam. Anwar became interested in the writings and speeches of Malcolm X and concerned about the plight of the African American community. In Denver, “He started to think about social issues in America, and he knew many black people and he went to see them in prisons, tried to help them,” said Nasser. “So he became more involved in the social problems in the United States, regarding Muslims, and other minorities.” A member of his mosque in Denver later said of Awlaki, “He could talk to people directly—looking them in the eye. He had this magic.” An elder from Awlaki’s Denver mosque later told the New York Times that he’d had a dispute with Awlaki after the young imam advised a young Saudi worshipper to join the Chechen jihad against Russia. “He had a beautiful tongue,” the elder said. “But I told him: Don’t talk to my people about jihad.”

On September 13, 1995, Anwar’s wife gave birth to their first child, a boy named Abdulrahman. A year later, in 1996, Anwar moved his young family to San Diego, California, where he became an imam at the Masjid al Ribat al Islami. He also began working on a master’s degree in education leadership at San Diego State University. In the late 1990s, as the United States was gearing up for the 2000 presidential election, Nasser traveled to the United States to receive medical treatment and visited his son in San Diego. Nasser showed me a photo of a full-bearded Anwar on a boat, holding up a massive fish he caught. “He was already an imam with a big beard, you know,” Nasser recalled, smiling at the picture of his son, who wore a yellow T-shirt emblazoned with the logo of a local Islamic organization and a baseball cap. A former San Diego neighbor of Awlaki’s, Lincoln Higgie III, described Awlaki as “very outgoing and cheerful,” with a “very retiring wife” and an “adorable” child. “He liked to go albacore fishing,” Higgie recalled, “so every once in a while he would bring me some albacore fillets that his wife cooked up.”

While visiting his son, Nasser attended Friday prayers and watched Anwar preach. “It was regular mosque. It had a capacity of about four hundred people, and most of the people who came to the mosque were regular Muslims: engineers, doctors, and people who had restaurants and things like that. From all over the Muslim world, from the Arab world,” Nasser remembered. “I used to listen to his sermons. In fact, at that time, he was asking Muslims to participate in the democratic process in America, and he was encouraging—in fact, during the 2000 presidential campaign of George W. Bush, he thought the conservative Republicans would be better than the liberal Democrats, and he encouraged the Muslims there to elect George Bush. Because, he said, he was against abortions and things like that. These things conform to Muslim tradition,” Nasser recalled. “So he was very active with the Muslim community, actually, and he never supported any violent things. He was very peaceful in America. All he did, really, was to represent Islam in its best.”

In 1999, Anwar had his first run-in with the FBI, when he was flagged by the Bureau because of his alleged contact with Ziyad Khaleel, an al Qaeda associate who US intelligence believed had bought a battery for bin Laden’s satellite phone. He had also been visited by a colleague of Omar Abdel Rahman, the “blind sheikh” convicted of masterminding the 1993 World Trade Center bombing. The 1999 investigation reportedly uncovered other ties the FBI found troubling, such as to the Holy Land Foundation, a Muslim charity vilified for raising funds for Palestinian charitable institutions linked to Hamas, a US State Department–designated terrorist organization. For two years while in San Diego, according to tax records procured by the FBI, Awlaki was the vice president of another organization, the Charitable Society for Social Welfare (CSSW). According to an FBI agent, this was merely another “front organization to funnel money to terrorists.” Though no charges were ever brought against CSSW, federal prosecutors described it as a subsidiary of a larger organization founded by Abdul Majeed al Zindani, a well-known Yemeni with alleged al Qaeda ties. However, by this logic, the US Department of Labor would also be guilty by association, for providing CSSW projects with millions of dollars between 2004 and 2008. Anwar’s family dismisses the suggestion that Anwar was raising money for terrorist groups and insists he was raising money for orphans in Yemen and elsewhere in the Arab world. The US investigation into Anwar was soon closed, for lack of evidence. In March 2000, the FBI concluded that Awlaki “does not meet the criterion for [further] investigation.” But it wasn’t the last time Anwar would hear from the FBI.

Two men who prayed at Anwar’s mosque in San Diego, Khalid al Mihdhar and Nawaf al Hazmi, would soon be among the nineteen hijackers who conducted the 9/11 attacks. When Anwar moved the family to Falls Church, Virginia, in 2000, Hazmi also attended his mosque. After 9/11, US investigators would charge that Anwar was al Hazmi’s “spiritual adviser.” Nasser told me he asked his son about his connections to Hazmi and Mihdhar and told me that Anwar had only a sporadic, clerical relationship with the men. “I asked him myself. He said, ‘They prayed in the mosque like anybody else, and I met them casually,’” Nasser asserted, asking, “How in the world do you think al Qaeda would have faith in Anwar to tell him about their biggest thing they were preparing for? It is unbelievable, because at that time he had no links whatsoever with any group like that. Definitely. And I’m 100 percent sure of that.”

Listening to Anwar’s sermons from this era, there is no hint that he had any affinity for al Qaeda. In 2000, Anwar began recording CDs of his sermons and selling them as box sets. The sermons were extremely popular among Muslims in the United States and elsewhere in the English-speaking world. He recorded more than a hundred CDs in all, most of them consisting of lectures on the lives of the Prophet Muhammad, and on Jesus and Moses, as well as theories about the “Hereafter.” As the New York Times put it, “The recordings appear free of obvious radicalism.” Invitations began streaming in, inviting Awlaki to speak to mosques and Islamic centers across the United States and around the globe. “I was very pleased with him,” said Abu Muntasir, a founding member of a UK group called JIMAS, which hosted Awlaki several times. “He filled a gap for western Muslims who were seeking expressions of their religion which differed from the Islam of their parents’ generation, to which they found it difficult to relate.”

Despite the nonpolitical nature of his preaching, Anwar later alleged that US intelligence agents had sent “moles” into his San Diego mosque to gather information on its activities. “There was nothing happening at the mosque that would fall under the loose category of what we today refer to as terrorism but nevertheless, it is my firm belief that the government, for some reason, was actively trying to plant moles inside the mosque,” he charged.

There is another strange mystery regarding Anwar’s early run-ins with the FBI, one that will likely never be solved. While he was an imam in San Diego, Anwar was busted twice on charges of soliciting prostitutes. In the first case, he pleaded guilty to a lesser charge and paid a $400 fine and in the other, he was fined $240, given three years’ probation and sentenced to two weeks of community service. The arrests would later be used to paint Anwar as a hypocrite, but the preacher offered up a different explanation: the US government was trying to blackmail him into becoming an informant. In 1996, Anwar claimed, he was in his minivan at a stoplight waiting for it to turn green when his vehicle was approached by a middle-aged woman who knocked on the passenger-seat window. “By the time I rolled down the window and before even myself or the woman uttering a word I was surrounded by police officers who had me come out of my vehicle only to be handcuffed,” he recalled. “I was accused of soliciting a prostitute and then released. They made it a point to make me know in no uncertain terms that the woman was an undercover cop. I didn’t know what to make of the incident.” Then, Anwar said, a few days later he was visited by two men he said identified themselves as federal agents, who told him they wanted his “cooperation.” Anwar said they wanted him to “liaise with them concerning the Muslim community of San Diego. I was greatly irritated by such an offer and made it clear to them that they should never expect such cooperation from myself. I never heard back from them again until” a year later. That was his second bust for soliciting. “This time I was told that this is a sting operation and you would not be able to get out of it,” Anwar recalled.

Perhaps he really was soliciting prostitutes, and his self-projection as a pious man was an elaborate deception. But there would be other indications later that Anwar Awlaki may not have been regarded by US intelligence simply as a target of investigation, but also as a potential collaborator.

Anwar was unsettled by his run-ins with the law in California. “I believed that if the issue in San Diego was with local government I should be safe from it if I move somewhere else,” he recalled. Nasser arranged for him to get a partial scholarship at George Washington University in Washington, DC, to pursue a PhD. By that point, Anwar’s wife had given birth to their second child and he needed to find employment. So, he lined up work as a chaplain for the university’s interreligious council and landed a job as an imam at a popular mosque in Virginia, Dar al Hijrah. “Our community needed an imam who could speak English…someone who could convey [a modern narrative about Islam] with the full force of faith,” said Johari Abdul Malik, the outreach director at Dar al Hijrah. The mosque wanted someone who could present the messages of the Koran to an audience of American Muslims. Awlaki, Malik said, “was that person. And he delivered that message dutifully.” The family settled into suburban Virginia in January 2001. Although Anwar’s reflections years later indicate that his rage against the United States was building in the years preceding 9/11, if that was true, he did a great job of masking it with his public profile as a highly respected figure in the mainstream Muslim community.

ON THE MORNING OF SEPTEMBER 11, 2001, Anwar Awlaki was sitting in the backseat of a taxi. He had just arrived at Reagan National Airport in DC and was heading home after catching a red-eye back from a conference in Irvine, California. He heard the news of the attacks in the taxi and told the driver to head straight for his mosque. Awlaki and his colleagues were immediately concerned that the mosque could be targeted in the rage that was brewing. That night, police were called to Anwar’s mosque after a man pulled his car up in front of the building and screamed threats at those inside for thirty minutes straight. The mosque closed for three days as a result and issued a press release condemning the attacks. “Most of the questions are, ‘How should we react?’” Awlaki said to the Washington Post, explaining the leadership’s reasons for shuttering the mosque. “Our answers are, especially for our sisters who are more visible because of the dress: Stay home until things calm down.” When the mosque reopened, a Muslim-owned security firm was hired to search cars and handbags and pat down people entering the building. Local churches offered support to Dar al Hijrah, including escorts for Muslim women afraid to venture out to mosque. This was a fact that Anwar lauded publicly to his congregation and to reporters, but he also kept worshippers informed about anti-Muslim prejudice and hate crimes—such as one incident in which a Muslim woman stumbled into the mosque on September 12 after being attacked by a man with a baseball bat. In his first sermon after the reopening of the mosque, Anwar condemned the attacks as “heinous.” “Our hearts bleed for the attacks that targeted the World Trade Center as well as other institutions in the United States, despite our strong opposition to the American biased policy towards Israel,” he said, reading a condemnation of the attacks from Sheikh Yusuf al Qaradawi, the famous, controversial Egyptian theologian. “We came here to build, not to destroy….We are the bridge between America and 1 billion Muslims worldwide,” Awlaki added.

When 9/11 happened, Awlaki didn’t own a television. “I used to get my news through the Internet,” he said days after the attacks. “But since this happened, I rushed to Best Buy and got a TV set. And we were glued to our TV sets. For Muslims, I think it was a very complicated issue because we suffer twice,” he asserted. “We’re suffering as Muslims and as human beings because of the tragic loss for everyone. And then in addition, we suffer the consequences of what will happen to us as an American Muslim community since the perpetrators are, so far, identified as Arabs or Muslims. I would also add that we have been pushed to the forefront because of these events. There has been huge media attention towards us, in addition to FBI scrutiny.”

While Anwar huddled with other Muslim leaders to determine how they would respond to the 9/11 attacks, he once again popped onto the US government radar. “September 11 was a Tuesday,” Anwar later recalled. “By Thursday the FBI were knocking on my door.” US agents began questioning Awlaki about his dealings with two of the suspected hijackers. The agents showed him pictures of the hijackers—including the two who had attended his San Diego mosque as well as Hani Hanjour, who also had spent time in San Diego and, along with Hazmi, attended an Awlaki sermon in Falls Church, Virginia, in 2001. Awlaki “said he did not recognize Hazmi’s name but did identify his picture. Although Awlaki admitted meeting with Hazmi several times, he claimed not to remember any specifics of what they discussed,” according to the 9/11 Commission. Awlaki also said that he had not had any contact with Hazmi in Virginia, only in San Diego, and said he had never met Hanjour. Awlaki, according to the commission, “described Hazmi as a soft-spoken Saudi student who used to appear at the mosque with a companion but who did not have a large circle of friends.” According to declassified FBI files on Awlaki’s meetings with federal agents after 9/11, Awlaki described Hazmi as “a loner,” adding that he was “a very calm and extremely nice person.” Awlaki, according to the FBI, did not view Hazmi “as a very religious person, based on the fact that [Hazmi] never wore a beard and neglected to attend all five daily prayer sessions.” Soon after that meeting, the FBI returned again and asked Awlaki to work with them in their investigation. The next time they visited, Awlaki got a lawyer. An FBI file after the meeting stated: “Investigation continues at WFO [the FBI’s Washington Field Office] into the association between Anwar Aulaqi and persons connected to the September 11, 2001 terrorist attacks on the United States.” [Awlaki’s name is alternately spelled Aulaqi.]

According to subsequent FBI testimonies to the 9/11 Commission, Awlaki had a series of phone conversations in 2000 with Saudi Omar al Bayoumi, who helped Hazmi and Mihdhar find apartments in San Diego. An FBI investigator told the commission that he believed that the men were using Bayoumi’s phone at the time, implying that Awlaki had had direct contact with the hijackers. Yet, based on those early interviews, the investigators concluded that Awlaki’s interactions with the three hijackers were inconclusive. The 9/11 Commission asserted that the future hijackers “respected Awlaki as a religious figure and developed a close relationship with him” but added that “the evidence is thin as to specific motivations.”

While the FBI dug into Awlaki’s relationship with the hijackers, hundreds of people would pack Dar al Hijrah mosque to hear Awlaki preach on Fridays. He counseled families and helped new immigrants find apartments or employment. Among those who came to him for help was a Palestinian couple who attended all of his Friday sermons. They were having trouble with their son, who was a US military psychiatrist. The couple was concerned that their son was not taking interest in their religion. Nasser recalled Anwar telling him that they said, “Why don’t you talk with [our son], so he will come with us to the mosque?” Awlaki agreed to help. Their son was named Nidal Malik Hasan, the man who, more than a decade later, would commit one of the worst massacres on a US military base in history. Just as his relationship with some of the 9/11 hijackers would result in government scrutiny of his life, Awlaki’s interactions with Hasan would later be used to raise suspicions about Awlaki’s role in other terror plots.

Undoubtedly, Awlaki’s mosques seemed to attract an array of characters who would go on to become terrorists. But the extent of Awlaki’s knowledge of who they were or what they were plotting is difficult to determine. In examining Awlaki’s experiences and statements from this period, the mystery only deepens. What unfolded between Awlaki and the US government behind closed doors in the months after 9/11 and what played out publicly between Awlaki and the US media at the same time is a bizarre tale, filled with contradictions. It was as though Anwar Awlaki were living a double life.

In the weeks after 9/11, while Anwar dealt with the FBI agents in private, in public he became a media star, called upon by scores of media outlets to represent a “moderate” Muslim view of the 9/11 attacks. TV crews followed him around. National radio programs interviewed him. Newspapers quoted him frequently. Awlaki encouraged his followers to participate in blood drives for 9/11 victims, to donate money for the families. The leadership at the mosque described him as a man known for his “interfaith outreach, civic engagement, and tolerance,” and the Associated Press reported that, among those who attended his sermons, “Most said they did not find him to be overtly political or radical.” Although Awlaki at times delivered stinging indictments of US foreign policy, he also condemned the attacks in strong terms. Initially, he even indicated that the United States would be justified in waging an “armed struggle” against those responsible for the attacks. “Absolutely,” Awlaki told PBS. “We have stated our position that…there must be a way for the people who did this, they have to pay the price for what they have done. And every nation on the face of the earth has a right to defend itself.”

Awlaki was “a go-to Muslim cleric for reporters scrambling to explain Islam. He condemned the mass murder, invited television crews to follow him around and patiently explained the rituals of his religion,” according to the New York Times. In a separate article, the paper reported that Awlaki “is held up as a new generation of Muslim leader capable of merging East and West.” Awlaki said in late September 2001, “I even feel that it’s unfortunate that we have to state this position because no religion would condone this, so it should be common knowledge. But we were in a position where we had to say that Islam does not approve of this. There is no way that the people who did this could be Muslim, and if they claim to be Muslim, then they have perverted their religion.” The Washington Post consulted Awlaki several times after 9/11, even commissioning him to star in a webcast about Ramadan. “Our position needs to be reiterated and needs to be very clear,” Awlaki said during a sermon, televised nationally in the United States by PBS, a few weeks after the attacks. “The fact that the US has administered the death and homicide of…civilians in Iraq, the fact that the US is supporting the deaths and killing of thousands of Palestinians does not justify the killing of one US civilian in New York City or Washington, DC, and the deaths of [thousands of] civilians in New York and Washington, DC, does not justify the death of one civilian in Afghanistan. And that is the difference between right and wrong, evil and good, that everybody’s claiming to talk about.”

Even as he condemned the attacks, Awlaki pulled no punches in his analysis of the US posturing toward the Islamic world. In one sermon, a week after 9/11, Awlaki pushed back on the Bush administration’s characterization of al Qaeda’s motives. “We were told this was an attack on American civilization. We were told this was an attack on American freedom, on the American way of life,” Awlaki declared. “This wasn’t an attack on any of this. This was an attack on US foreign policy.” As the United States began its push into Afghanistan in October 2001, Awlaki was interviewed by the Washington Times. “We’re totally against what the terrorists [have] done. We want to bring those who [have] done this to justice,” he said. “But we’re also against the killing of civilians in Afghanistan.” As the first Ramadan after 9/11 approached, Awlaki said, “There will be a higher level of anxiety in the community this year.” The Muslim holiday will be overshadowed by “a gloomy mood because of the events that happened in September and the ongoing war overseas,” he said, adding, “We always want Ramadan to come in quiet times, but unfortunately, this year that is not going to happen.” He also made clear he was opposed to the launch of the US war against the Taliban. “In my personal opinion I feel that the US rushed into this war,” he told an interviewer. “There could have been some other avenues to solve this problem, one of which was diplomatic pressure, taking advantage of all the Muslim countries who voiced their support for the US in this, and voiced their concern for what has happened on September 11. Very strong condemnations from all over the Muslim world. So that could have been used and capitalized on to put some pressure on Afghanistan or whoever did this, rather than rushing into the war that we’ve seen.” More than a decade before the so-called Arab Spring, Anwar also criticized US support for autocratic leaders and their repressive regimes in Middle Eastern and predominantly Muslim countries. “There doesn’t have to be a dramatic, sudden, overnight change in these regimes, but there needs to be at least some pressure on the part of the US for these regimes to open up a bit and provide more freedom to the people,” he said.

Driving around suburban Virginia during Ramadan in late 2001, Awlaki spoke to a camera held by a journalist from the Washington Post. “Since the war started there have been a lot of casualties among civilians. A lot. And unfortunately that hasn’t been reported, or hasn’t been reported in a fair proportion in the media, so there’s a lot of concern that the common people in Afghanistan are paying the price for this. They’re pawns in this game of politics,” he said.

The interviewer asked Awlaki what he thought of bin Laden and the Taliban. “They represent a very radical understanding, an extreme view, and a part of what feeds into [those] radical views are the conditions that exist in the Muslim world,” he said. “It’s definitely a fringe group. There have been teaching[s] that were twisted. It’s a method of justifying views by using religious texts, and that could exist in any religion.” Awlaki appears, in the video, to be struggling sincerely with how to respond to 9/11. He is also seen as a loving father, wiping his younger son’s nose. At another point, he holds his trotting toddler’s hand as they walk into the mosque. For a brief moment, Awlaki even sings part of the theme song from the children’s show Barney: “I love you, you love me.” It is difficult to watch the hours of footage and conclude that he was simply a good actor.

As incidents of anti-Muslim violence and bigotry spread, Awlaki watched as Muslim and Arab communities in the United States were targeted by the federal government. The people who came to his sermons told him of harassment they endured because of their race or their faith. People were rounded up, mosques were infiltrated, Muslim businesses were targeted by vigilantes and federal agents. Like many American Muslims, Awlaki believed that his people were being singled out, profiled because of their religion or race. “There is an element of feeling among the Muslims that they are targeted, or at least they are the ones who are paying the highest price for what’s going on,” Awlaki told National Public Radio in October 2001. “There has been a rise in negative reporting on Islam in the media since the events happened. There have been 1,100 Muslims detained in the US. There’s a bombing going on over a Muslim country, Afghanistan. So there are some reasons that make the Muslims feel that, well, it is true that the statement was made that this is not a war against Islam, but for all practical reasons, it is the Muslims who are being hurt.” When two members of his former San Diego mosque were detained on the basis of allegedly “strong connections” to the hijackers who had worshipped there, Awlaki rebuked the FBI. “There was no need to round them up in a crude fashion,” he said. He and his colleagues had preached patience and cooperation with the authorities, Awlaki said, but argued that “our people won’t listen to us when they see this is how the FBI is treating them. It strengthens our belief that we are a community under siege…whose civil rights are being violated.” “It is not right,” he went on, claiming that the two men had tried to voluntarily cooperate with authorities before being unfairly detained. “It gives the impression they have involvement in this. It just destroys their reputation. I am convinced they are innocent.”

As the weeks went on after 9/11, Awlaki described in scores of media interviews the struggle that he and other Muslim leaders were facing in their communities, sparked by the perception that the United States was waging a war against Muslims and Islam. “It is the radical voices that are taking over, the ones who are willing to enter into an armed confrontation with their governments. So, basically, what we have now is that all of the moderate voices are silenced in the Muslim world,” he said in one interview. In another, Awlaki said, “With American Muslims, there’s this feeling of being torn between our nation and our solidarity with Muslims around the world.” Awlaki began warning the United States that if it launched what Muslims perceived as a war against their religion, it would bring blowback. “My worry is that because of this conflict, the views of Osama bin Laden will become appealing to some of the population of the Muslim world,” he said. “That’s a very frightening thing, so the US needs to be very careful and not have itself perceived as an enemy of Islam.”

IN ONE OF THE ODDER TWISTS in Awlaki’s post-9/11 story, he was invited by officials at the US Department of Defense (DoD) to address a Pentagon luncheon on February 5, 2002. In a declassified e-mail, one of the organizers of the event, a Pentagon employee, wrote: “I had the privilege of hearing one of Mr. Awlaki’s presentations in November and was impressed both by the extent of his knowledge and by how he communicated that information and handled a hostile element in the audience. I particularly liked how he addressed how the average Middle Eastern person perceives the United States and his views on the international media.” The e-mail concluded that the event needed to be booked soon because Awlaki “will be leaving for an extensive period of time,” adding, “I think you’ll enjoy it if you come. [Awlaki] is very informative and this is certainly a hot topic that we all would like to learn a little more about.” According to declassified Pentagon documents, “At that period in time, the secretary of the Army (redacted) was eager to have a presentation from a moderate Muslim,” adding that Awlaki “was considered to be an ‘up and coming’ member of the Islamic community.” After being vetted for security reasons, Awlaki “was invited to and attended a luncheon at the Pentagon in the secretary of the Army’s Office of Government Counsel.” (It is unlikely Awlaki dined on the “East Side West Side” sandwich offered at the event, which included beef, turkey and bacon on marbled rye.)

The Pentagon appearance may have just been a freak event that occurred thanks to poor vetting and Awlaki’s public reputation at the time, shaped by his scores of media appearances, but it would also fuel speculation that Awlaki was cooperating with the US government in its 9/11 investigations. When I asked Nasser Awlaki, Anwar’s father, about the Pentagon luncheon, he lit up. “Yes! You know, you cannot believe it,” he told me. “At one time, he told me he will join the US Army in order to be Muslim chaplain.” In one conversation he had with his son during this time, Nasser said Anwar “told me he was mad not to be invited to the White House. Like other Muslim dignitaries during Ramadan, when Bush started this event, asking people to come to Ramadan. He thought, how come they didn’t ask him, because he was the imam of a big religious center in America.” Awlaki may not have made it into the White House, but in early 2002, he was invited to lead a prayer service in the US Capitol. His sermon there was featured in the 2002 PBS documentary Muhammad: Legacy of a Prophet.

In March 2002, US federal agents conducted a series of sweeping raids against more than a dozen Muslim nonprofit organizations, businesses and private homes. The raids were conducted under the banner of an interagency task force and were part of a broad investigation into terror finances, code-named Operation Green Quest. Among the raided organizations were respected Islamic think tanks, such as the International Institute of Islamic Thought, as well as the Graduate School of Islamic and Social Sciences at Cordoba University in Virginia. The homes of various leaders and staffers of the organizations were also searched and their property seized. The raids were allegedly conducted as part of a targeted operation against terrorism financing. The agents seized computer hard drives, confidential files and books. The raids filled five hundred boxes with files seized in the actions. No charges were ever filed against any leaders of these institutions or the organizations themselves in connection with the raids. Mainstream Muslim organizations and civil liberties groups condemned the raids as a witch hunt. Awlaki delivered a stinging sermon saying Operation Green Quest “was an attack on every one of us” in “the Muslim community,” warning, “If today this happened to these organizations, tomorrow you’re going to be next.” In another sermon, Awlaki declared, “Maybe the next day the Congress will pass a bill about Islam that it is illegal in America. Don’t think that this is a strange thing to happen; anything is probable in the world of today because there are no rights unless there’s a struggle for those rights.”

Unbeknownst to Awlaki, he had been identified by the Green Quest task force as an active subject of its investigation, though it ultimately determined he had no connection to the targeted groups. At the same time, the FBI was actively trying to force him to cooperate in various investigations. Awlaki believed they were using the prostitution busts back in San Diego to try to flip him. Actually, his theory was not far-fetched. In fact, this was precisely what the feds were trying to do in the months after 9/11 when Awlaki was in Virginia. “FBI agents hoped al-Awlaki might cooperate with the 9/11 probe if they could nab him on similar charges in Virginia,” US News & World Report later reported. “FBI sources say agents observed the imam allegedly taking Washington-area prostitutes into Virginia and contemplated using a federal statute usually reserved for nabbing pimps who transport prostitutes across state lines.”

Awlaki was being feted in the media and presented as a voice of moderate Islam; a man who spoke eloquently of the Muslim community’s struggle to navigate feelings of outrage at the 9/11 attacks and opposition to the wars the United States had launched in response. But privately, Awlaki was plotting his departure from America. Imam Johari Abdul Malik, who was the outreach director at Awlaki’s Virginia mosque, said that he tried to persuade Anwar to stay in the United States in 2002. “Why are you leaving?” Malik asked him. He recalled Awlaki saying, “Because the climate here, you can’t really do your work, because it’s always antiterrorism, investigating this. The FBI wants to talk to you. That’s not what I signed up for. I would rather go somewhere where I can preach, I can teach, I can have a discourse that’s not about 9/11 every day.” Awlaki also said he was considering running for parliament in Yemen and that he was interested in having his own TV show in the Gulf. Malik added that “Awlaki knew that he had been arrested for the solicitation of prostitutes, and that any revelation of this by US authorities would have ruined him.”

Awlaki had also changed his tone about the United States. He was outraged over the crackdowns on Muslims and the wars abroad in Muslim countries. The raids, combined with the US war in Afghanistan and the threats of war against Iraq, spurred Awlaki to become sharper in his critique of the US government. “This is not now a war on terrorism. We need to all be clear about this. This is a war against Muslims. It is a war against Muslims and Islam. Not only is this happening worldwide but it is happening right here, in America, that is claiming to be fighting this war for the sake of freedom, while it is infringing on the freedom of its own citizens, just because they are Muslims,” Awlaki said during a sermon. It was one of the last he would deliver in the United States. The US government surveillance of Muslims and mosques and imams enraged Awlaki, according to Nasser. “So Anwar suddenly was finding himself in a very difficult position. The country which he was born in, the country which he loved, the country where he wanted to preach his religion,” in Anwar’s eyes, “became really against Muslims. And he was mad. And he could not really practice his religion freely in America. So he thought maybe Britain will be a good country to go to,” recalled Nasser. “And so he called me and said, ‘Father, I cannot finish my PhD.’” Nasser was devastated. His dream was for his son to finish his PhD in America and return to Yemen to teach at the university, as he had done.

In leaving America for Britain in 2002, Anwar would also leave behind the “moderate” reputation he had built in the US media after 9/11. Was Anwar Awlaki a sleeper supporter of al Qaeda? A spiritual adviser to 9/11 hijackers, as the government would later allege? Or was he an American Muslim radicalized by his experiences in the United States after 9/11? Whether Awlaki was putting on a public show after 9/11 and hiding his true militant views on the United States or trying to escape the US government’s investigations and interrogations, when he left Virginia he was on a collision course with history.