Posts Tagged ‘terrorism


They’re just joking I’m sure

Western government bow to fascists. Soon French women will be tossing flowers at their feet...

Western government bow to fascists. Soon French women will be tossing flowers at their feet...


Repost: See: I do negotiate with terrorists.

To try to make ammends with pro-Hamas bloggers that are teaming in the blogosphere, I’m reposting a popular article of mine: Me making nice with militants.

Let the hate-mail resume…


Mumbai is a lesson well learned in Russian.

Reading this article:, I see that David Ignatius states:

Most U.S. police departments aren’t well prepared to deal with such “active shooters,” as they’re called. Police are trained to cordon off an area that’s under attack and then call in a paramilitary SWAT team to root out the gunmen.”

That used to be true, but in the post-Columbine era– it’s no longer the case. Police officers are now trained to deal with active shooters, so as to reduce loss of life in situations similar to Columbine. At the police department I worked for, we trained entering schools and dealing with hostage situations in which there was no time to wait for SWAT. It was a call that needed to be made by individual officers arriving at the scene: To enter or not to enter….

At Columbine High School, the police officers did what they were trained to do. They sealed off the area around the school so as to prevent people from entering or leaving. All the while Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold were mowing down fellow students venting a rage forged in nihilistic lifestyles.

This was not morally acceptable–and no government agency sponsored to protect the people could go on without changing the way it dealt with these situations.

Police patrol officers are also routinely trained to use and armed with assault-style weapons, such as the M-4 carbine. Response time would not have been an issue. It took Indian commandos 10 hours to respond to the Mumbai attacks. It seems that the fact that the attacks took place at multiple places had something to do with this.

Attacks on multiple places inside a US city would indeed cause serious problems inside the US. However, I believe that Indian law enforcement is probably Federal in nature and may not have the local assets needed to deal with multiple events. Of course, Mumbai is the largest city in India, so Federal assets should have been numerous.

Imagining this scenario on US soil, the terrorists would immediately be confronted by local law enforcement; city police. As soon as the “shots fired” call went out, neighboring agencies, city, county and state would immediately respond. Also, the FBI, in it’s role as support liaison for local law enforcement, would dispatch as many assets as possible from its local office, probably from the nearest federal building such as the post office if it were large enough. Once the scope of the attack became apparent, more FBI assets would be called for, such as negotiators and FBI SWAT. State police SWAT would also respond.

Were it not so trite, the attacks in Mumbai would draw comparisons in the media to the video game, Rainbow Six. In the game, players must deal with terrorist organizations taking hostages in labyrinthine structures that take large amounts of time to clear.

In reality, the Russians dealt with similar problems, such as the Moscow Theatre hostage crisis, and the Beslan School hostage crisis. In the Beslan situation, 334 hostages were killed by Chechen separatists, including 186 children. In Moscow, the Russians deployed a narcotic gas, which incapacitated the Chechen rebels, after which they were summarily executed by assaulting Spetznaz. Employed in both cases  were Russian special ops units, Vympel and Alfa. As with most operations conducted by Russia, there are many questions surrounding both situations. In both cases the terrorists affixed bombs at several points inside the buildings as well as to themselves. In both situations, over 800 hostages were taken. The use of the narcotic gas in Moscow drew complaints after the Russian military refused to release the components of the chemical weapon to doctors and paramedics. Some of the hostages dies as a result, however several hundred fewer than at the Beslan site. It appears for all of the mistakes made, that the Russians were on the right track; there’s few other ways to defeat terrorists who’ve made the building they’re in and themselves into bombs.

The NSA had warned India of possible attacks in Mumbai, originating from the sea. NSA programs had intercepted phone calls where operatives spoke of the plans. But to be defensive is to die. It’s doubtful, even when given information as specific as that which the NSA provided, that security forces could have stopped this. Aside form posting commandos at the doors for months on end that is–and even then, the terrorists could just attack someplace less guarded. The terrorists must be attacked where they train, and their sources of money and aid–destroyed.

The new Pakistani government must help the world in destroying militants in the Kashmir region, or else the world may do it without any Pakistani help at all.


Pakistan, terrorism and the Pakistani Inter-Service-Intelligence

While in AIT, I presented a briefing on Mullah Muhammed Omar, the founder of the Taliban. The Taliban was basically a response to out of control former members of the Mujahideen that fought against the Soviet invasion. Several Mujahideen members became local warlords, and later tyrants, who terrorized the populace by stealing from them, raping and kidnapping women–and so forth.

During my research for the briefing, I discovered that the ISI- the Pakistani Intelligence Service- was believed by some to have helped form the Taliban. Recently, India has accused the ISI of training militants in the Indian controlled area of Kashmir.

Due to the ISIs special place in the hierarchical order of Pakistani government, it remains practically autonomous in its actions. Supposedly the ISI was purged of members that did not support the anti-terrorism efforts of Pervez Musharraf, however many suspect that pro-al-Qaeda and Taliban members still exist in the ISI, but that their actions are being suppressed. Indian intelligence has provided information to the United States that shows ISI General Mahmoud Ahmad ordered Saeed Sheikh to wire $100,00 to Muhammed Attah– one of the 9-11 conspirators. Saeed Sheikh has since been convicted of the kidnap and murder of Wall Street Journal writer, Daniel Pearl.

One of the men that I’ve trained with in the Army, a translator (09-L) and citizen of Afghanistan who has fought against the Taliban– he sportsgunshot scars to prove it– stated that the members of the ISI are extreme religious zealots.  Indeed, while reading further on the ISI, I discovered that part of their training is religious in nature.

In July of this year, a car-bomb detonated outside the Indian embassy in Kabul, Afghanistan, killing 58 people, wounding 141. Even George Bush was forced to ask at this time, “Who controls ISI?”

In the chaos that is now Pakistan, it is difficult to identify the friends and the foes. In Musharraf we lost a friend, though many in the US are loath to admit it. We hate the idea of someone in uniform running a country and his suspension of Pakistan’s constitution assaulted our very core. But Musharraf was forced to take tough measures as his country boiled over with extremists. In the wake of Prime Minister Benazir Bhutto’s assassination, he resigned. Though al-Qaeda claimed responsibility for the assassination, the ISI’s involvement must be questioned. And now, with the coordinated attacks in Mumbai, India, Pakistan may be teetering on the brink of full-scale war with India. Those attacks too, are being blamed on terrorists located in the Kashmir region.

We must stand with India, whose population is comprised of the thrid highest Muslim count in the world, behind only Indonesia and Pakistan. As Ralph Peters pointed out in a recent article, India enrages Islamic exremists, not only for the past, but for India’s future– a future built with Western ideals–and without Sharia.


Think this can’t happen?

Abu Hakim removed a photo from the glove compartment. He looked at the photo; it was himself, astride a bicycle, the Washington Monument rising in the background. Abu Hakim’s hair was jelled and he smiled widely and genuinely in that photo. That was two years ago, when he had come to America to study at Cambridge.

The smell of car exhaust crept into Hakim’s car, as it sat idling in the Seattle drizzle, the gray sky matching Hakim’s mood. It had come to this. In Hamminayah, his mother worked and sent him money to help with his classes. The part-time job at the gas station could not pay for all of his expenses and he was so busy with his studies. He remembered the exuberance he had felt for the American way. But then there was the American invasion of Iraq. His country had been torn apart by unbelievers, and to make matters worse, his brother, Raham, had been kidnapped by Shia death-squads, his body found in a ditch near lake Habbinayah. The Shia heretics had used a power-drill as a torture device, drilling holes in Raham’s legs, making special targets of his kneecaps. His eyes were gone too. And all because of America. Because of oil. That is what the Imam told him and Hakim felt in his bones to be true. When he had received news of his brother’s death, he flew home to grieve with his family. His city lay in ruins. Most of the buildings around his neighborhood were dusty shells, amongst which insurgent snipers crept, day and night, killing everything that moved across the empty streets. Even women.

Islam, which had never before been that important in the mind of a younger Abu Hakim, now became a fire in his soul. Allah had lit that fire and it would burn until this city of Seattle was but ashes. Almost, so close had Abu come to living an American dream. He shoved the transmission into drive and motored in between two cars stopped in the heavy Seattle traffic, thinking about someone that had almost kept him from the fate he was about to face. A year ago, he met Sarah in class. He became like a child around her, her blonde hair reaching to her waste down her back. That blonde hair fascinated him. An angel must have hair like that… But then she had left him. After his brother had died, he became withdrawn and brooding. He had no time to grieve! She didn’t let him grieve… She wanted him to be happy all of the time, but that was not possible. Now someone else could feel and smell Sarah’s hair. Abu’s sinuses tingled and he pounded the steering wheel with his palm. He whimpered, cried a bit at the thought, then noticed that someone in a car next to him was staring. What a fool he was being! Letting the world’s pleasures come between he and his operation.

The Space Needle sought to pierce the sky. Traffic became ever more tangled, but Abu had much patience. Finally, he pulled to a spot under the Needle, leaving the engine to sputter in the damp air. The Al-Qaeda operatives had given him everything he needed. His consort, whom he’d met with months earlier had explained to him how the Uranium would be smuggled into the US: Hidden amongst stacks of wall clocks with Tritium arms, to fool the customs officers and their radiation detectors. All of it shipped into port in huge crates. Russia had provided the know-how. Jealous Russia… The trunk of the car was packed with a carefully constructed sphere of explosives. At the sphere’s core, the small amount of Uranium, holding all of the magical and invisible power, waiting for destructive release. Abu reached under the front seat and pulled to his lap a plunger with wires leading to the car’s engine, the bomb’s power source. He rocked to and fro. Alla Akbar, Alla Akbar, Alla Akbar…

Robert Jenkins jogged, painfully along the sidewalk, dodging puddles, dodging people. He’d forced himself to run after two months of inactivity. His wife, Jessica, had wanted some potatoes for tonight’s dinner, but the traffic was too horrendous to drive. So he ran. With potatoes. It was always interesting, all of the things you noticed while jogging that you never noticed at other times. He saw the leg of a child’s stuffed animal, laying along the curb, in the road, the water rushing over it. He could hear people talking too, their voices carrying despite the rain, bouncing off the high walls of businesses.

His back hurt. His right knee hurt. But what he’d seen in the mirror hurt more, so it was time to start exercising again. No more excuses. Yes he’d been busy at work, but… He wanted to get back home now though. Take a shower and watch a movie. Kiss his little girl good-night. Ahead, he could see the Space Needle. From where he was , he needed to take a right, then just a another mile or so.

Shadows. Then a blooming and bright lotus. So bright Robert became blind and fell. Could he have seen, could his scorched retinas have registered reality, Robert would have seen that lotus form a mushroom cloud, the Needle crumple like a straw, its customers and benefactors smashed on the street. The power of a broken atom swept out and away, carrying a vicious wind, which shattered windows and as he wind retracted, pulled people and everything else out into the street, only to burn in a hellstorm.

Shiva walked the Earth.

Robert’s mouth tasted metallic. Blind and confused he moved to where he remembered the sidewalk to be. The whole city had become silent. But no. A rushing wave of destruction. First only a little warmth, for a second, then the heat of a small star. The water in his body evaporated and mingled with the ether of a now-clearing sky… Alla Akbar Think this can’t happen?


See–I am willing to negotiate with terrorists–if they cook me steak…


See–I can get along too.

In an effort to celebrate and imitate Jimmy Carter’s recent meet-up with Hamas, and fearing the label which many in the blogosphere may place on me, I have made a concerted effort to see the good in all people.

At the Hayfield Lane Peace Accord, well-know Mujaheddin leader, Michael Rozos and I agreed to sign a peace treaty laying out plans for a ceasefire in Greer, South Carolina.

In exchange for a well-cooked New York Strip steak, I agreed not to hit his BMW M-3 with a Mk-83 JDAM bomb. It should be noted that his M-3 has no emissions control. Rozos is likely to find that left-wing enviro-nazis will not be as ready to negotiate as I was. ELF anyone?

To the chagrin of many, Rozos’ father drives a Prius, and his mother was married to a cousin of Libyan dictator, Muammar Gadaffi….

Yup–it’s true.

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