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  We wanted to close down all of Al Haramain—its headquarters and all its branches (including in Oregon)—but knew that we would need to take this one step at a time. This was not about targeting Islamic charity. It was about shutting down conduits that had been used by terrorists and could be used in the future by Al Qaeda. We needed to be sensitive to the perception that we were simply trying to attack Islamic charities as we targeted groups that were funding terrorist groups.

  To get this done, we hoped to build a case against the entire Al Haramain organization. We would focus on the most problematic branches and work toward closing down the entire network. This would not happen overnight, but we needed to take a first step. It was imperative for us to get the Saudis on board with us to make a public announcement, and we hoped they would commit to shutting down all suspected conduits and donors for Al Qaeda. From Washington and with the help of our embassy in Riyadh, we had prescripted what could be done, but the Saudi decision ultimately had to come from the top.

  The Saudis received us warmly. Red carpets led into the main VIP terminal. We raced after Secretary O’Neill, who was always quick off the plane and first to the motorcade or meeting. In the terminal, we met our ambassador, Robert Jordan, and the deputy chief of mission, Margaret Scobey, and discussed where things stood with the Saudis before heading in a long motorcade to the Conference Palace Hotel. We would prepare for our planned site visits and await word of our meetings with Crown Prince Abdullah.

  Once we received word that he was ready for us, we got into the motorcade and were escorted into the royal palace in Jeddah. I did not know what to expect, but I was eager to see whether there would be agreement on a joint designation of Saudi Arabia’s biggest charity. More importantly, I wanted to see whether the Saudi leadership was taking the problem of terrorist financing seriously.

  We entered the grounds and were escorted by the crown prince’s royal guard into a waiting room in the palace near his office. We waited briefly amid lush couches as the protocol officers made sure they knew who would be attending the meeting and how we would introduce ourselves. John Taylor, Michele Davis (the assistant secretary for public affairs), Bill Murden, and I shuffled to stay close to the secretary for fear of being left outside the bubble and missing the meeting altogether, which had been known to happen in the past.

  Secretary O’Neill led the way along with our ambassador into the large, opulent office, introducing all of us as we greeted Crown Prince Abdullah. The crown prince appeared like a figure out of biblical times who had walked into the ornate and relatively modern office straight out of the desert. His stark black goatee and flowing royal thobe and cloak, accented in gold and black lining, gave shape to his large frame. His sandals reminded me of the desert origins of the Saudi monarchy. The green Saudi flag framed his desk, with couches on each side of the office for the guests and Saudi officials who would join the meeting. His deep, baritone voice welcomed us and filled the large office with his authority. King Fahd was very ill, and it was no secret that the crown prince was running the kingdom. Crown Prince Abdullah would become the king of Saudi Arabia in 2005.

  Directly next to the crown prince was his adviser and translator, Adel al-Jubeir, who would later become Saudi Arabia’s ambassador to the United States. Al-Jubeir, a thin, cerebral man who spoke perfect English, would prove critical in this period as a trusted figure on all sides on these issues, acting as a shadow ambassador in the United States even though he was not a royal. Educated in the United States, he also handled Saudi Arabia’s public relations campaign in the West, while long-standing Saudi ambassador Prince Bandar weathered criticisms.

  The office was covered with beautiful oriental rugs. Sitting on the other side of the room were key Saudi government ministers, including the interior minister, Prince Nayef bin Abdulaziz al-Saud; the Saudi finance minister; and the central bank governor. This was the first time an American treasury secretary had met with the Saudi leadership to talk almost exclusively about terrorist financing. Crown Prince Abdullah and Secretary O’Neill sat next to each other, and we sat along the couch and seats next to Secretary O’Neill. Saudi hospitality, with multiple rounds of coffee, tea, and juice, would follow in due course.

  After some basic pleasantries and a discussion about the world economy, the real discussion began. O’Neill and the crown prince talked about the importance of attacking the financial support for Al Qaeda and terrorism—with O’Neill emphasizing the need to take aggressive action against those we suspected of assisting Al Qaeda. The deep sting of 9/11 was still with us, and there was a desire to do everything possible to prevent another attack and to send signals throughout the world that financial support for Al Qaeda would be met with economic isolation and ruin. Having clarity on Saudi Arabia’s position was critical. The crown prince agreed but underscored the need for any steps taken to be in the right sequence. O’Neill and Crown Prince Abdullah then began to discuss the problems with Al Haramain, with O’Neill suggesting that we take action together against some of its branches and investigate its leadership—all with the aim of shutting down its worldwide operations.

  The proposal itself had been prescripted behind the scenes with the Saudi government. We already knew that the Saudis were amenable to taking the step we were proposing, with the prospect that this could lead to tougher and tougher actions on their part over time. Still, the Saudis also wanted to modulate their actions, being careful about how aggressively and how quickly they confronted influential elements within Saudi society. We would not be shutting down the entire charity right away, but would take the first step in this direction. Furthermore, it behooved both countries to demonstrate cooperation on this matter. We wanted to send a clear signal that the United States and Saudi Arabia were cooperating closely on countering terrorist financing.

  The presentation proved persuasive. Crown Prince Abdullah agreed to take the action we were requesting—as the first of many to follow. He seemed committed to cutting off funding for Al Qaeda. Furthermore, the Saudis understood that the perception that they allowed funding to occur was not good for their reputation globally and in the United States—and was in fact dangerous to the survival of their regime. The resulting joint designation of the Al Haramain branches would be the first joint designation with any country. This was a way of signaling cooperation publicly and diplomatically, undercutting any attempt by Al Qaeda to drive a wedge between two of its enemies and catalyzing more action against Al Qaeda’s support network in Saudi Arabia.

  On March 11, 2002, the United States and Saudi Arabia made their first joint submission to the United Nations and designated the Bosnian and Somalia branches of the Al Haramain Foundation.4 The United States and Saudi Arabia would later designate other branches of the charity and launch an investigation of Sheikh Aqeel Abdulaziz al-Aqil, the head of the organization. As it turned out, thanks to a strategic mistake by Al Qaeda, Saudi Arabia would soon be aiding our campaign even more aggressively than we could have hoped.

  The catalyst was a new act of terror on Saudi soil. In May 2003, Al Qaeda cells in the kingdom executed deadly attacks on housing compounds in Riyadh, killing dozens. The attackers used suicide car bombs to target housing and apartment complexes of foreign workers, including Americans.

  The Saudis responded ferociously. Counterterrorism units in the Mubahith—the internal security and intelligence service—published most-wanted lists for Al Qaeda operatives and supporters in the kingdom and proceeded to painstakingly track them down and kill them. New wanted lists emerged every few weeks. At times, it was difficult to keep up with the Saudis’ extermination of the Al Qaeda operatives. By picking a fight with the Saudis, Al Qaeda had inadvertently given the Saudi monarchy the leeway it needed to crack down—not only militarily, but also financially. By 2004, our ultimate request had been granted, and the Saudis would shut down all of Al Haramain, ultimately prosecuting its director for financial irregularities.

  The leader of the Saudi effort to break Al Qaeda’
s back in the kingdom was the ruthless but mild-mannered Prince Muhammad bin Nayef, the deputy interior minister and son of the Saudi interior minister, Prince Nayef bin Abdulaziz al-Saud. “MbN,” as the deputy minister was called within the US government, managed the kingdom’s counterterrorism efforts, and he was trusted by both the crown prince and the United States to protect the kingdom and pursue its counterterrorism policies. He led the Mubahith’s investigations, raids, and crackdowns on Al Qaeda operatives—whom we called the “Vampires” because of their middle-of-the-night work hours and their ability to strike after dark.

  MbN developed a smart and stealthy strategy that was lethal in its execution. His approach was to make cases and examples of those supporting Al Qaeda within the Saudi court system—with the clerical establishment and judiciary condemning the acts—while leveraging the shame and constrictions embedded in Saudi society to punish those willing to support the terrorist group. He would argue for taking the long view, where the bad guys would be killed, deterred, or reconciled. MbN would establish the now famous and well-studied Saudi rehabilitation program for recruits into Al Qaeda, creating a system of theological and social deprogramming and reintegration. Such reintegration would include incentives such as homes and wives, creating a collective familial and tribal responsibility for the extremists who were allowed to return to Saudi society. Some of those released from the program would go on to kill again, but the program has nevertheless been seen as one model for addressing the ideological underpinnings and allure of Al Qaeda’s message.

  The importance of MbN’s role in breaking the back of Al Qaeda was not well known. MbN kept a low profile, and he preferred not to receive public recognition, though he was named minister of the interior in 2012. He was focused on his mission and on protecting his men and the Saudi people. But Al Qaeda knew how important he was. On August 8, 2009, an Al Qaeda operative who claimed to be willing to reconcile and meet with MbN instead attempted to assassinate him. Though the man was searched by Saudi security, they missed the explosive that was contained in his rear end. The operative exploded the bomb, and MbN was wounded but not killed. Al Qaeda in the Arabian Peninsula (AQAP)—the Al Qaeda affiliate in Yemen made up largely of Saudi and Yemeni operatives—claimed responsibility for the attempt. Just a few months later, AQAP would send an underwear bomber on an airliner to Detroit to try to hit the United States.

  This personal attack only strengthened the kingdom’s resolve. In meeting after meeting thereafter, there was never any wavering on Crown Prince Abdullah’s part about tackling terrorist financing, even after 2005 when he became king. In time, he came to challenge us to do more to go after the nexus between drug trafficking and terrorism. In September 2003, when Secretary O’Neill’s successor, Secretary John Snow, visited with Crown Prince Abdullah, they talked about the need to take additional steps together against terrorist financing. When Secretary Snow told the crown prince that our Treasury delegation was traveling to Afghanistan, the Saudi leader stopped Snow and told him he had to be especially careful. He leaned into the secretary and said, “The terrorists are most afraid of you because you go after their money.”

  Despite this high-level commitment, countering terrorist financing would remain a constant irritant for both countries. The fundamental tension and issues persisted. This was not just about institutions and an infrastructure of financing for extremist causes. There were individuals in the Arabian Gulf who were committed to supporting Al Qaeda. We sought to find the “deep-pocket donors” who were supplying Al Qaeda and its allies with necessary and consistent funding, but Al Qaeda treated the identities of its most important financial supporters as prized possessions, secrets held within the inner sanctum where its other sacred secrets were contained. This was information not widely known even within the Al Qaeda network itself, and it was not easily uncovered. As with the possible location of Osama bin Laden and Ayman al-Zawahiri (known within the US government as “high value targets,” specifically, “HVTs 1 and 2”), high-level detainees were not providing names. Meanwhile, intelligence and arrests were not revealing the core investors in terror, either.

  In Sarajevo in 2002, security services came across an interesting and potentially explosive find that seemed to be the “Golden Fleece” of Al Qaeda financing we had long sought. Bosnia had been the site of Islamic extremist militant activity in the 1990s, at the height of the war in the Balkans—with groups like Al Qaeda issuing a clarion call for Muslim men to join the fight to defend fellow Muslims. The Balkans campaign became another jihadi battlefield—like Chechnya, Kashmir, and Somalia—animating the movement after the Soviet withdrawal from Afghanistan and the initiation of Taliban control over much of the country.

  While raiding a terrorist safe house, Bosnian services collected incriminating documents and computer files about the Balkan-based fighters and their support network. Using this information, the Treasury designated the Saudi-based Benevolence International Foundation (BIF) as a terrorist financier, citing the handwritten correspondence between Osama bin Laden and the BIF director, authorizing the latter to act on behalf of the terrorist mastermind, as evidence.5 The FBI would later raid BIF offices in Chicago, and its leader would be prosecuted for financial crimes. In the trove discovered in Bosnia, authorities found a list of twenty-three names—some of them prominent Arab businessmen—described as primary donors to Al Qaeda.

  Heretofore, there had been little intelligence about the big names and deep pockets behind the Al Qaeda movement. There were certainly suspicions about the families and wealthy businessmen in the Middle East—especially in the Persian Gulf countries—who might be behind the day-to-day budget that Al Qaeda needed to pay for its members, their families, and recruitment and training. This list was the first concrete set of subjects. Prominent and wealthy names long familiar to law enforcement appeared on the list. Not surprisingly, many of these men were prominent Saudis—such as Suleiman al-Rajhi and Khalid bin Mahfouz. Most of those named were involved in charity organizations as founders or board members in addition to their formal employment. The list, which became known as the “Golden Chain,” was later reported to be verified as authentic by former Al Qaeda member Jamal al-Fadl.6

  As promising as the list seemed, though, it raised several crucial questions. Were those on the Golden Chain list really the select group of long-standing deep-pocket donors we were looking for? Had these investors been the main support for the global extremist movement? Was it current, post-9/11, Al Qaeda support, or was this just a historical list of those who had been supportive in the past? Or perhaps, even more vaguely, was this merely a wish list for jihadis holed up in Bosnia who were looking for funding from a supposed group of sympathetic wealthy actors? Importantly, could those on the list provide insights into the terrorist support, or even tracks to find HVTs 1 and 2? Although we did not yet know the answers to all the questions, the list did provide concrete leads. And it sparked an important debate over past and potential current support from wealthy Saudis to Al Qaeda and like-minded terrorist groups.

  The list underscored the nature of terrorist financing for the broader Sunni violent extremist movement, which was reliant over time on key donors and donations. The donors to Al Qaeda were often not just passive contributors, but demanding investors in a cause. Over time, the donor class would grow increasingly demanding of Al Qaeda, asking to hear directly from bin Laden and requiring that their funds be leveraged specifically to launch significant attacks.

  Al Qaeda obliged with recorded messages from Osama bin Laden reassuring supporters of the centrality and vitality of Al Qaeda’s cause. Radical ideologues reminded followers of their obligation to provide financial support to their jihadi brethren. Their plots would continue to materialize, but Al Qaeda would find it increasingly difficult to mount successful attacks against the West—in large part because it became difficult to raise, control, and move money.

  The question of whether deep-pocket donors as a class or segment of the terrorist networ
k actually existed would persist for years. We had designated a few well-known, suspected financiers of Al Qaeda and its causes, such as Yasin al-Qadi on October 12, 2001. Qadi was a Saudi businessman who was considered a key financier for Al Qaeda as well as Hamas. He ran the Muwafaq Foundation, which the Treasury exposed as a conduit for Al Qaeda funding. Qadi was also a principal funder for the Al Barakaat Foundation, an Islamic charity believed to support Al Qaeda operations around the world prior to 9/11, and had served as a conduit for Al Qaeda banking in the Sudan, Saudi Arabia, and Afghanistan. Qadi’s business enterprises and investments extended from the Middle East into Turkey and Europe, including Albania.7

  Once Qadi was designated, his assets were frozen throughout Europe, and this complicated his business transactions around the world. It became difficult for Qadi to move money through banks, and investors and partners became wary about doing business with him. The spotlight had been put on him, and he was required to demonstrate that he was not funding bin Laden. Qadi quickly instructed his lawyers to challenge the designations in courts in London and in the European Court of Justice.8

  He enlisted the support of friends and supporters, including Turkish Prime Minister Recep Tayyip Erdogan, who proclaimed in 2007 that he would not abide by the UN mandate to freeze Qadi’s assets. His efforts to delist himself from the UN sanctions list and from the European list succeeded, with his delisting taking effect on October 21, 2012. The United Kingdom and the European Union proceeded to delist him as well. Qadi had succeeded in pleading his case. Nevertheless, the designation and the resulting international scrutiny had put a spotlight on those who had supported bin Laden prior to 9/11 and forced those designated to end any such support.

  We designated others as key financiers, such as bin Laden’s brother-in-law Mohammed Jamal Khalifa. He would later be killed in Mauritania under suspicious circumstances. Even so, skeptics remained, especially in the intelligence community, because we had found little hard evidence of a terrorist donor class. Detainees were not revealing names, and our intelligence collection efforts and work with liaison and law-enforcement partners had not revealed such information. The Golden Chain list was a helpful marker, but it was not seen as an authentic list of current Al Qaeda financiers. One’s appearance on the list could not alone justify severe actions against someone. In truth, we had little actionable information about those continuing to bankroll the movement. This was enormously frustrating and problematic.