North Africa: ‘We don't want to become a second Afghanistan'
Why the al-Qaeda kidnappers of Canadian diplomats now have governments across the western Sahara on the run
Geoffrey York
Timbuktu, Mail
Wednesday, Oct. 21, 2009 3:20AM EDT
At first, he thought it was just the desert wind, whispering through the predawn darkness. But then the soldier heard the sound again, and he realized the sickening truth: His slumbering troops were surrounded by terrorists from the Sahara branch of al-Qaeda, and the ambush was about to begin.
It was a mismatch. The insurgents had night-vision goggles, bulletproof vests and rocket-propelled grenades. The soldiers carried amulets and Koranic verses for protection. They were also outnumbered 3 to 1. Two hours later, almost half of the 60 soldiers were dead, and the rest were fleeing for their lives.
The ambush, which took place on July 4, was another shocking victory for al-Qaeda in the Islamic Maghreb (AQIM), the terrorist group that has swiftly spread its influence across North Africa, opening a new front in global terrorism and drawing U.S. military forces into yet another corner of the world.
After the disastrous defeat, Mali's President vowed a “total struggle” against the terrorists. But since then, his army has made no effort to pursue them, creating the impression that, despite its rhetoric, the government is afraid of tangling with al-Qaeda.
Senior government members admit that AQIM is better armed than they expected, and they say Mali will not pursue the terrorists until there is agreement on a joint operation among all the armies of the Sahara region – an agreement that has been discussed for months, yet is still delayed by disputes among Mali, Algeria, Mauritania and Niger.
Formed in 2006 when al-Qaeda struck a deal with an Algerian-based terrorist group, AQIM is fighting to expel Westerners and set up an Islamic theocracy. It has launched scores of attacks and suicide bombings in the four Saharan states, with more than 10 hits on Western targets in Algeria and Mauritania, including European tourists, a French embassy and an American aid worker.
In Canada, the terrorist group is most famous for kidnapping Canadian diplomats Robert Fowler and Louis Guay in Niger last December. But the two high-profile hostages – who were released in April – were not the only Canadian targets. Last year, AQIM car bombers in Algeria attacked a bus carrying employees of SNC-Lavalin Group Inc., the Montreal-based engineering firm, killing 12 and injuring dozens.
While Western targets remain vulnerable, AQIM's terrorist activity poses an even greater threat: that the Islamic extremists could overwhelm the weak states of the Sahara, where they already have entrenched bases, trafficking networks and government links.
“These people can go for months in the desert without encountering any authority,” said Adghaimar Ag Alhouseyni, commander of the Timbuktu detachment of Mali's National Guard. “They're like invisible people. They even have weapons that we don't know about – light weapons, but powerful. And they have night-vision equipment. They can see us and we can't see them.”
Mali is hoping that the United States or Algeria will provide helicopters or jets to pursue the terrorists. “The government doesn't have the resources to fight them alone,” said Assarid Ag Imbarcaouane, a vice-president of Mali's parliament. “They are well-armed and mobile. They move in small groups, but they're very numerous.”
The Pentagon has responded with the Trans-Sahara Counterterrorism Partnership, which, among other things, sent 300 U.S. military advisers to bases in Mali for three months this year. Locals in Timbuktu point to a house on the edge of town, surrounded by surveillance cameras, where the U.S. Green Berets were based while training Malian soldiers.
The U.S. presence failed to deter the terrorists. On June 10, they launched one of their most audacious assaults.
In a convoy of six pickup trucks, they slipped into the outskirts of Timbuktu, the fabled town on the edge of the Sahara. One vehicle drove to the family home of the local intelligence chief, Lieutenant-Colonel Lamana Ould Bou, who had arrested several AQIM members. With two gunmen positioned on the roof and at the gate, two others entered the house and shot the colonel. As they fled, one of the killers' turbans slipped off and the colonel's family saw his long beard, the trademark of the Islamic radicals.
The colonel's Arab tribesmen vowed to take revenge. Calling themselves the “Delta Force” in homage to Hollywood war films, they created a militia unit and formed an alliance with Mali's regular army, pledging to “cut off the beards” of the terrorists.
After several days of searching, the army and militia found a temporary AQIM base in a remote corner of the desert, about 700 kilometres north of Timbuktu. With nearly 300 men, they greatly outnumbered the rebels and after three hours of fighting on June 17, nearly one-third of the estimated 90 Islamists were dead.
The hunt continued for two weeks. About 200 kilometres north of Timbuktu, nomads reported suspicious truck movements, and the soldiers found a lone AQIM vehicle, which they attacked and then followed through the desert. Just before sunset on July 3, they spotted a terrorist camp in the distance.
But by now the army unit was smaller, with one unit having split off to search in a different direction. The AQIM cell, meanwhile, had obtained reinforcements from two other cells.
Despite months of training by the U.S. Special Forces advisers, Mali's army made a fundamental tactical blunder. Survivors say their commander ordered his fatigued men to rest for the night – within range of the AQIM encampment.
“I tried to tell him that it was a mistake, but he wouldn't listen,” says Mousa, a sergeant in a special Malian army unit that was set up to chase the terrorists.
By 4:15 a.m. on July 4, the extremists had crept to within 15 metres of the sleeping soldiers. That was when Mousa discovered them, and the firefight began. “They planned to cut our throats, one by one,” he says. “That's how close they were. Some of our soldiers were shot while they were still sleeping.”
The two highest-ranking soldiers in the unit, a colonel and a captain, were among the 29 soldiers and militia members who perished. The Islamists also captured three soldiers and seized three vehicles and many of their weapons.
Since then, the army and its allies have been on hold. “The government has told us to wait,” says one Arab militia member, a survivor of the July 4 battle. “I don't understand why. We don't just want to get rid of them – we want to kill them. They're bringing evil into this region. They killed some of our greatest leaders.”
He believes the AQIM units have gained strength in the past year from their kidnapping operations, which have produced millions in ransom payments. “You can tell from the weapons they buy and the money they pay to anyone who helps them with supplies or information.”
Analysts agree that the hostage-taking strategy has bolstered the terrorists. “AQIM's increased focus on kidnap-for-ransom operations … has allowed for the group's expansion, helping fund recruitment, training, propaganda and terrorist attacks,” Michael Leiter, director of the U.S. National Counterterrorism Centre, said in testimony to a Senate committee.
The Islamists seem to have mysterious connections to high-ranking informants in Mali's government. “They must have good sources,” says Mousa, the army sergeant. “Every time we go on a mission, they seem to know who is in our ranks, how many we are and where we are going.”
The conflict with AQIM is devastating the economy in northern Mali. In places such as Timbuktu, tourism has collapsed. Foreign aid workers are under orders to stay away from the north. The U.S. and France have pulled out hundreds of oil-exploration workers and humanitarian volunteers.
Yet Mali lacks the money and appetite for a protracted war in the desert. “The problems are the distance and the enormous cost of supplying the army at such a great distance,” says Soumeylou Boubeye Maiga, a former Malian defence minister.
Since the terrorists are targeting Westerners, many people in Mali perceive the AQIM issue as “other people's war” – a problem for the West, not the locals. “Mali doesn't want to be caught in the middle of a big war,” Mr. Maiga says. “The authorities don't feel that the threat justifies a big war. We don't want to become a second Afghanistan.”
While Mali shies away from conflict, AQIM is entrenching itself in the Sahara. “They're even marrying into the local communities and convincing young people of their ideology,” says Baba Ould Sheik, a politician in northern Mali who helped to negotiate the release of the Canadian hostages this year.
“If al-Qaeda is not tackled, the whole of the north could be controlled by al-Qaeda within the next five or 10 years.”
