“Oh, but he was just a journalist” seems to be the refrain coming from the mainstream media.
Well, yes but no.
Its actually becoming more and more apparent that that was just a part of the persona of Jamal Khashoggi.
Khashoggi made the leap into the dark seething underbelly of the beast 40 years ago when he joined the Muslim Brotherhood and would have been aware of the dangers.
We are talking about the Muslim mafia after all and when you cross the Muslim Brotherhood with the mafia you get the worst of both worlds.
A Hotel California situation, where “you can check out but you can never leave”
He was also major player at the highest level in Saudi politics. Yes, he was a journalist for a while but that was more of a means to a political end and is only part of the story we’re hearing from the mainstream media.
Connected as he was in the Muslim underworld, he would have known how these things usually end up if you cross the wrong people.
“…In truth, Khashoggi never
had much time for western-style pluralistic democracy. In the 1970s he
joined the Muslim Brotherhood, which exists to rid the Islamic world of
western influence. He was a political Islamist until the end, recently
praising the Muslim Brotherhood in the Washington Post. He championed
the ‘moderate’ Islamist opposition in Syria, whose crimes against
humanity are a matter of record. Khashoggi frequently sugarcoated his
Islamist beliefs with constant references to freedom and democracy.
He had been a journalist in
the 1980s and 1990s, but then became more of a player than a spectator.
Before working with a succession of Saudi princes, he edited Saudi
newspapers. The exclusive remit a Saudi government–appointed newspaper
editor has is to ensure nothing remotely resembling honest journalism
makes it into the pages.
Khashoggi had this
undeserved status in the West because of the publicity surrounding his
sacking as editor of the Saudi daily Al Watan back in 2003. (I broke the
news of his removal for Reuters. I’d worked alongside Khashoggi at the
Saudi daily Arab News during the preceding years.)
The fate of Khashoggi has
at least provoked global outrage, but it’s for all the wrong reasons. We
are told he was a liberal, Saudi progressive voice fighting for freedom
and democracy, and a martyr who paid the ultimate price for telling the
truth to power. This is not just wrong, but distracts us from
understanding what the incident tells us about the internal power
dynamics of a kingdom going through an unprecedented period of upheaval.
It is also the story of how one man got entangled in a Saudi ruling
family that operates like the Mafia. Once you join, it’s for life, and
if you try to leave, you become disposable…”
“…As someone who spent three
decades working closely with intelligence services in the Arab world and
the West, the Saudi dissident and Washington Post columnist Jamal
Khashoggi knew he was taking a huge risk in entering the Saudi consulate
in Istanbul last week to try to obtain a document certifying he had
divorced his ex-wife.
A one-time regime insider turned
critic of Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman — the de facto head of the
Saudi kingdom which tolerates no criticism whatsoever — Khashoggi had
been living in Washington for the previous year in self-imposed exile
amid a crackdown on independent voices in his homeland.
He had become the darling of
western commentators on the Middle East. With almost two million Twitter
followers, he was the most famous political pundit in the Arab world
and a regular guest on the major TV news networks in Britain and the
United States. Would the Saudis dare to cause him harm? It turns out
that the answer to that question was ‘You betcha.’
Following uneventful visits to the
consulate and, earlier, the Saudi embassy in Washington, Khashoggi was
lured into a murderous plan so brazen, so barbaric, that it would seem
far-fetched as a subplot in a John le Carré novel. He went inside the
Istanbul consulate, but failed to emerge. Turkish police and
intelligence officials claimed that a team of 15 hitmen carrying Saudi
diplomatic passports arrived the same morning on two private jets. Their
convoy of limousines arrived at the consulate building shortly before
Khashoggi did.
Their not-so-secret mission? To
torture, then execute, Khashoggi, and videotape the ghastly act for
whoever had given the order for his merciless dispatch. Khashoggi’s
body, Turkish officials say, was dismembered and packed into boxes
before being whisked away in a black van with darkened windows. The
assassins fled the country.
Saudi denials were swift. The
ambassador to Washington said reports that Saudi authorities had killed
Khashoggi were ‘absolutely false’. But under the circumstances — with
his fiancée waiting for him, and no security cameras finding any trace
of his leaving the embassy — the world is left wondering if bin Salman
directed this murder. When another Saudi official chimed in that ‘with
no body, there is no crime’, it was unclear whether he was being ironic.
Is this great reforming prince, with aims the West applauds, using
brutal methods to dispose of his enemies? What we have learned so far is
far from encouraging. A Turkish newspaper close to the government this
week published the photographs and names of the alleged Saudi hitmen,
and claims to have identified three of them as members of bin Salman’s
personal protection team.
There are also reports in the
American media that all surveillance footage was removed from the
consulate building, and that all local Turkish employees there were
suddenly given the day off. According to the New York Times, among the
assassination team was the kingdom’s top forensic expert, who brought a
bone saw to dismember Khashoggi’s body. None of this has yet been
independently verified, but a very dark narrative is emerging
In many respects, bin Salman’s
regime has been revolutionary: he has let women drive, sided with Israel
against Iran and curtailed the religious police. When Boris Johnson was
foreign secretary, he said that bin Salman was the best thing to happen
to the region in at least a decade, that the style of government of
this 33-year-old prince was utterly different. But the cruelty and the
bloodletting have not stopped. Saudi Arabia still carries out many
public beheadings and other draconian corporal punishments. It continues
to wage a war in Yemen which has killed at least 10,000 civilians.
Princes and businessmen caught up
in a corruption crackdown are reported to have been tortured; Shia
demonstrators have been mowed down in the streets and had their villages
reduced to rubble; social media activists have been sentenced to
thousands of lashes; families of overseas-based activists have been
arbitrarily arrested. In an attempt to justify this, bin Salman said
this week he was ‘trying to get rid of extremism and terrorism without
civil war, without stopping the country from growing, with continuous
progress in all elements,’ adding: ‘So if there is a small price in that
area, it’s better than paying a big debt to do that move.’
The fate of Khashoggi has at least
provoked global outrage, but it’s for all the wrong reasons. We are told
he was a liberal, Saudi progressive voice fighting for freedom and
democracy, and a martyr who paid the ultimate price for telling the
truth to power. This is not just wrong, but distracts us from
understanding what the incident tells us about the internal power
dynamics of a kingdom going through an unprecedented period of upheaval.
It is also the story of how one man got entangled in a Saudi ruling
family that operates like the Mafia. Once you join, it’s for life, and
if you try to leave, you become disposable.
In truth, Khashoggi never had much
time for western-style pluralistic democracy. In the 1970s he joined the
Muslim Brotherhood, which exists to rid the Islamic world of western
influence. He was a political Islamist until the end, recently praising
the Muslim Brotherhood in the Washington Post. He championed the
‘moderate’ Islamist opposition in Syria, whose crimes against humanity
are a matter of record. Khashoggi frequently sugarcoated his Islamist
beliefs with constant references to freedom and democracy. But he never
hid that he was in favour of a Muslim Brotherhood arc throughout the
Middle East. His recurring plea to bin Salman in his columns was to
embrace not western-style democracy, but the rise of political Islam
which the Arab Spring had inadvertently given rise to. For Khashoggi,
secularism was the enemy.
He had been a journalist in the
1980s and 1990s, but then became more of a player than a spectator.
Before working with a succession of Saudi princes, he edited Saudi
newspapers. The exclusive remit a Saudi government–appointed newspaper
editor has is to ensure nothing remotely resembling honest journalism
makes it into the pages. Khashoggi put the money in the bank — making a
handsome living was always his top priority. Actions, anyway, speak
louder than words.
It was Yasin Aktay — a former MP
for Turkey’s ruling Justice and Development party (AKP) — whom Khashoggi
told his fiancée to call if he did not emerge from the consulate. The
AKP is, in effect, the Turkish branch of the Muslim Brotherhood. His
most trusted friend, then, was an adviser to President Erdogan, who is
fast becoming known as the most vicious persecutor of journalists on
earth. Khashoggi never meaningfully criticised Erdogan. So we ought not
to see this as the assassination of a liberal reformer.
Khashoggi had this undeserved
status in the West because of the publicity surrounding his sacking as
editor of the Saudi daily Al Watan back in 2003. (I broke the news of
his removal for Reuters. I’d worked alongside Khashoggi at the Saudi
daily Arab News during the preceding years.) He was dismissed because he
allowed a columnist to criticise an Islamist thinker considered to be
the founding father of Wahhabism. Thus, overnight, Khashoggi became
known as a liberal progressive.
The Muslim Brotherhood, though, has
always been at odds with the Wahhabi movement. Khashoggi and his fellow
travellers believe in imposing Islamic rule by engaging in the
democratic process. The Wahhabis loathe democracy as a western
invention. Instead, they choose to live life as it supposedly existed
during the time of the Muslim prophet. In the final analysis, though,
they are different means to achieving the same goal: Islamist theocracy.
This matters because, although bin Salman has rejected Wahhabism — to
the delight of the West — he continues to view the Muslim Brotherhood as
the main threat most likely to derail his vision for a new Saudi
Arabia. Most of the Islamic clerics in Saudi Arabia who have been
imprisoned over the past two years — Khashoggi’s friends — have historic
ties to the Muslim Brotherhood. Khashoggi had therefore emerged as a de
facto leader of the Saudi branch. Due to his profile and influence, he
was the biggest political threat to bin Salman’s rule outside of the
royal family.
Worse, from the royals’ point of
view, was that Khashoggi had dirt on Saudi links to al Qaeda before the
9/11 attacks. He had befriended Osama bin Laden in the 1980s and 1990s
in Afghanistan and Sudan while championing his jihad against the Soviets
in dispatches. At that same time, he was employed by the Saudi
intelligence services to try to persuade bin Laden to make peace with
the Saudi royal family. The result? Khashoggi was the only non-royal
Saudi who had the beef on the royals’ intimate dealing with al Qaeda in
the lead-up to the 9/11 attacks. That would have been crucial if he had
escalated his campaign to undermine the crown prince.
Like the Saudi royals, Khashoggi
dissociated himself from bin Laden after 9/11 (which Khashoggi and I
watched unfold together in the Arab News office in Jeddah). But he then
teamed up as an adviser to the Saudi ambassador to London and then
Washington, Prince Turki Al Faisal. The latter had been Saudi
intelligence chief from 1977 until just ten days before the 9/11
attacks, when he inexplicably resigned. Once again, by working alongside
Prince Turki during the latter’s ambassadorial stints, as he had while
reporting on bin Laden, Khashoggi mixed with British, US and Saudi
intelligence officials. In short, he was uniquely able to acquire
invaluable inside information.
The Saudis, too, may have worried
that Khashoggi had become a US asset. In Washington in 2005, a senior
Pentagon official told me of a ridiculous plan they had to take ‘the
Saudi out of Arabia’ (as was the rage post-9/11). It involved
establishing a council of selected Saudi figures in Mecca to govern the
country under US auspices after the US took control of the oil. He named
three Saudis the Pentagon team were in regular contact with regarding
the project. One of them was Khashoggi. A fantasy, certainly, but it
shows how highly he was regarded by those imagining a different Saudi
Arabia.
Perhaps it was for this and other
reasons — and working according to the dictum of keeping your enemies
closer — that a few weeks ago, according to a friend of Khashoggi, bin
Salman had made a traditional tribal offer of reconciliation — offering
him a place as an adviser if he returned to the kingdom. Khashoggi had
declined because of ‘moral and religious’ principles. And that may have
been the fatal snub, not least because Khashoggi had earlier this year
established a new political party in the US called Democracy for the
Arab World Now, which would support Islamist gains in democratic
elections throughout the region. Bin Salman’s nightmare of a
Khashoggi-led Islamist political opposition was about to become a
reality.
The West has been fawning over bin
Salman. But how now to overlook what seems to be a brazen Mafia-style
murder? ‘I don’t like hearing about it,’ Donald Trump said. ‘Nobody
knows anything about it, but there’s some pretty bad stories going
around. I do not like it.’ Well, there are plenty more stories where
that came from, stories about a ruthless prince whose opponents have a
habit of disappearing. The fate of Khashoggi is the latest sign of
what’s really happening inside Saudi Arabia. For how much longer will
our leaders look the other way?”