There is an interesting interview in Der Spiegel of a teenage boy who was recruited to become a terrorist. Unfortunately, the article does not go into detail about what group recruited the boy or many additional specifics, but it is an interesting read nonetheless, if for not then all the contradictions apparent in the article - among them: the boy's hatred of Americans in respect of the fact that its the presence of Americans near his jail that assures him good treatment; the boy would like to visit America; and the real possibility that this would be killer may in fact be straightened out by a few whacks on his thick skull by an irate father:
Many of the insurgents building bombs and carrying out attacks in Iraq are hate-filled teenagers. Diya Muhammad Hussein, 16, is one of them.
. . . It was on a Wednesday a few weeks ago when Diya Muhammad Hussein went out to kill Americans. It was shortly after one o'clock in the morning and the curfew had just begun in the western Iraq town of Rawah. Diya crept out of his brother's house and walked to the tree where he had hidden the explosive device three days before.
It was a cold night, the 16-year-old recalls as he sits on the sofa of the police chief in his home town. After several hours a patrol of US Marines approached but Diya couldn't get the batteries back in the remote control unit fast enough. The Marines drove past unharmed.
. . . Diya calls himself a mujahedeen, a freedom fighter. The Iraqi government, the coalition troops, and the population exhausted by years of violence call him a terrorist. Diya's bomb could have killed several people, the US Marines say.
. . . A few hours later he was sitting in an Internet café with his friend Ahmed and was angry. The man who had incited him to commit the attack called him a coward in an Internet chat room conversation. Diya was unaware that the police has started monitoring such Internet contacts by local youths.
He was arrested as he left the Internet café to play football with Ahmed. He still had the remote control detonator in his coat pocket.
There are a number of possible reasons why the police chief of Rawah allowed us to interview Diya. For one, the US Marines asked him to, and they support the Iraqi police with a special training program as well as occasional equipment supplies, paying for an air conditioning unit here or a flashlight there. When the American friends make a request, it's hard to turn them down.
But the police chief is also proud of the arrest his officers made. Diya may look like just an ordinary teenager as he answers questions with his hands stuffed under his armpits, but his capture has averted a lot of harm. Diya led the police to an unusually large arsenal of weapons stored in plastic barrels buried in gardens. They contained a number of explosive devices, more than a dozen detonators, two precision rifles for snipers, Kalashnikovs, three grenades, 10 rockets, rocket launchers, TNT and a hundred hand grenades.
Diya went through what one could describe as the classic career of an Iraqi insurgent. About a year ago his father decided to take his wife and 11 children away from the increasing violence in Rawah and moved his family to a rural part of the country. There, in the small village of Hassah, Diya met Maad, an experienced fighter. The older man gained Diya's confidence and kept telling him how the Americans were godless occupiers. Fighting them was the duty of every Iraqi, he said.
Diya was thrilled, wanted to join the fight. As an initiation test into the group of local muhajedeen he was told to detonate a homemade mine. He recalls being told that he could one day attack the Marines as a suicide bomber, and didn't take that offer particularly seriously. "I found the notion strange, even funny," he says.
When Diya started preparing his first mission, he had a big network of helpers at his disposal. Rawah is a town like almost every other in Iraq -- everyone knows each other, and everyone knows who has been involved in the fight against the "occupiers" in the last few years. There's scarcely a family that doesn't have at least one son or cousin who worked as a henchman or leader of the local branch of "al-Qaida in Iraq" or other terror groups.
It was Ahmed's brother who told the boys about the weapons stashes, shortly before he was arrested as an insurgent. Diya learned how to use a detonator from Anas Fa'iq, another former fighter. His name is on a long list of wanted Iraqi Qaida members which is hanging in the US Marines' command headquarters.
Diya has been lucky in one respect. The building in which he is incarcerated also houses the company of Marines stationed in Rawah. They all live on the same floor: US Marines, Iraqi police and the prisoners. The Americans guarantee the prisoners at least a minimum of good treatment.
. . . "We still hate the Americans. In truth no one likes them. Iraq isn't free, that's why we have to keep on fighting," says Diya.
What would he do if he got a visa tomorrow to travel to the US? He would definitely take it, says Diya. Asked if he is aware of how contradictory that sounds, he smiles bashfully and buries his hands deeper into his armpits.
It's the irony of fate that Diya's brother became a policeman a few days after his arrest. They've rarely been closer than they are now. Diya squats in his cell behind a barred door while his brother stands guard outside.
"He spat on me when he saw me here," says Diya. His brother told him that his father is waiting for him to be released. "My father is beside himself with rage and will punish me severely, my brother said." . . .