My Name Is Not Important

My Name Is Not Important

My name is not important. Who I am is not important. Only the prophet Mohammed - blessings be upon him - and the almighty Allah need to know who I am as they greet me at the gates of paradise.

It is Friday evening and I am sitting on an aeroplane flying from Paris to London. It is scheduled to land in about twenty minutes, but it will never land because I am sitting by the window, looking out over the wing, and beneath the seat in front of me is a laptop computer packed with explosives. It was very easy to bring this bomb on board, the security people never check computers properly. They see a mass of circuits and assume that they are viewing the latest in American technology. They do not see what I have packed into the space where the CD drive, PC cards and floppy disk should be.

My friends taught me well. They approached me outside the mosque when they heard me speaking about the way the Americans were polluting our lands, our children and our religion. 'Would you like to strike a blow for Islam against the western devils and live in paradise as your reward?' they asked. 'Would you like to know how easy it is to deceive the complacent unbelievers who have become rich on the back of our oil? Who have stolen the food from our children's mouths to fatten the pockets of Bush's cronies?'

It was easy for them to persuade me because the Americans killed my uncle and my cousin at a wedding in Makr al-Deeb. It was a celebration of new love and new life. They sang and danced, then while they slept the Americans fired missiles against defenceless civilians and killed them all; so I agreed to take my revenge, to send the unbelievers to eternal damnation.

The instructions they gave me for making this bomb were simple. I first of all removed the top part of the case to give me easy access to the interior of the laptop. Then I removed the CD mechanism and lined the space with bathroom sealant to contain any gaseous traces that the explosive might give off. I was told that the security people sometimes check for such emissions. I then packed the space with a small piece of C4; my friends at the mosque said that this special explosive was very difficult to get hold of so they could only let me have a small quantity. Next I cut off the front panel of the drive and stuck it over the hole to make it look like the drive was simply closed.

I did the same with the PC card slots, sliding out the spacers, sealing the space, carefully moulding the C4 into every spare corner, and then sticking on the outside panel of each spacer to make it look as though they were still in place. The same for the floppy disk drive - I managed to find an older design of laptop to make my bomb, many of the new machines do not carry floppy drives any more. Next, I wired three function keys in serial with the laptop's battery and the detonator that I pushed into the CD drive space. This drive is at the back of the computer and directly in line with the keys which made it easier to run my thin wires across the casing. My friends told me to use three function keys equally spaced, at least one key apart to reduce the risk of them becoming accidentally pressed by a curious airline employee; nobody did, they never do. I chose F2, F5 and F8 for my keys. In fact I chose F8 first of all because of you say F8 quickly it sounds like 'fate' which appealed to my sense of humour. I will be deciding the fate of so many today - individuals, governments, countries. I feel nervous but proud that I will be helping to stop the pollution of our people and faith.

Finally I covered the top of each space with more bathroom sealant; I used a dark colour which will not be so obvious as the white I have in my bathroom at home. After checking the wires I put the top back on and felt good that there was no sign that anything had been changed. I could even switch on my computer and show them the start up screen. That's all they ever want to see on the rare occasion that a zealous security officer actually makes the effort to check. Even then they lose interest as soon as the first few characters of the boot sequence appear on the screen.

That is typical of the arrogance of the heathen, the same arrogance that allowed the Americans to give themselves permission to desecrate the holy cities of Falluja and Najaf, and the shrine of prophet Imam Ali. The arrogance that made them think it was acceptable to humiliate our people in Abu Ghraib prison. The self serving hypocrisy that has them preaching democracy one minute and arresting Sayyed Ryad al-Nuri the next because he is the brother-in-law of Moqtada Sadr who has dared to disagree with them. Even Britain has been polluted by the great Satan; Prime Minister Blair is no more than a pitiful servant, an obedient lap dog of the corrupt administration in Washington. He has even thrown the great British reputation for justice out of the window by having Abu Hamza al-Masri arrested in London because the cronies of President Bush think they might have evidence of terrorist connections against him. Could this be the same evidence that lied about the weapons of mass destruction in Iraq? Or the evidence that perjured against the prisoners in Guantanamo Bay?

Out of my window I can see London. I do not know which part, but that does not matter. I know that I will not be able to destroy Westminster, but that is not my aim. I want to make my statement for Islam. I want to frighten the British people as others have frightened the Spanish. I want them to clamour for withdrawal from Iraq and reject the corrupt policies of the United States. I want them to demand the downfall of the administrations on both sides of the Atlantic that have killed our people, polluted our holy sites, and corrupted our children with their western ways. It would have been better if I had been able to strike against America itself, but others have that task; my target is London. I can see houses now, individual buildings arranged in crescents and straight lines with their gardens laid out like green and brown pocket handkerchiefs. A lot of innocent people will die soon, but so many have died already for no purpose. At least today there will be a reason for lives to be lost.

I am reaching forward now and pulling my laptop out of its bag. I left the zip open so that I could slide the machine out easily if I was discovered and needed to retrieve it in a hurry. But it has been a peaceful flight and no one bothered me beyond the offer from the flight attendants of some plastic food and the alcohol that they think is so necessary to flush it down. Soon they will hear the explosion, see the hole in the side of the aircraft and watch the fireball envelope everything as the fuel tanks beneath me explode. The man sitting next to me in his dark grey business suit looks across. He knows that we are not supposed to use electronic equipment when the plane is about to land, but he says nothing. I lift the lid and settle the laptop across my knees. On my way to the airport this morning I decided that this holy act should be marked with a prayer for each press of a key. It did not seem right that I should carry out such an act for Allah, the most beneficent, without a final supplication.

And so I place my fingers on the three keys, close my eyes, and in my mind - for I do not want to attract attention in these last few seconds - I begin.

I seek refuge in Allah from the outcast Satan....F2....In the name of Allah, the Most Beneficent, the Most Merciful....F5....Praise be to Allah, the Lord of the worlds....F8....



	My name is not important. Who I am is not important. Only the prophet Mohammed - blessings be upon him - and the almighty Allah need to know who I am as they greet me at the gates of paradise. It is Friday evening and I am sitting on an aeroplane flying from Paris to London. It is scheduled to land in about twenty minutes, but it will never land because I am sitting by the window, looking out over the wing, and beneath the seat in front of me is a laptop computer packed with explosives. It was very easy to bring this bomb on board, the security people never check computers properly. They see a mass of circuits and assume that they are viewing the latest in American technology. They do not see what I have packed into the space where the CD drive, PC cards and floppy disk should be. My friends taught me well. They approached me outside the mosque when they heard me speaking about the way the Americans were polluting our lands, our children and our religion. 'Would you like to strike a blow for Islam against the western devils and live in paradise as your reward?' they asked. 'Would you like to know how easy it is to deceive the complacent unbelievers who have become rich on the back of our oil? Who have stolen the food from our children's mouths to fatten the pockets of Bush's cronies?' It was easy for them to persuade me because the Americans killed my uncle and my cousin at a wedding in Makr al-Deeb. It was a celebration of new love and new life. They sang and danced, then while they slept the Americans fired missiles against defenceless civilians and killed them all; so I agreed to take my revenge, to send the unbelievers to eternal damnation. The instructions they gave me for making this bomb were simple. I first of all removed the top part of the case to give me easy access to the interior of the laptop. Then I removed the CD mechanism and lined the space with bathroom sealant to contain any gaseous traces that the explosive might give off. I was told that the security people sometimes check for such emissions. I then packed the space with a small piece of C4; my friends at the mosque said that this special explosive was very difficult to get hold of so they could only let me have a small quantity. Next I cut off the front panel of the drive and stuck it over the hole to make it look like the drive was simply closed. I did the same with the PC card slots, sliding out the spacers, sealing the space, carefully moulding the C4 into every spare corner, and then sticking on the outside panel of each spacer to make it look as though they were still in place. The same for the floppy disk drive - I managed to find an older design of laptop to make my bomb, many of the new machines do not carry floppy drives any more. Next, I wired three function keys in serial with the laptop's battery and the detonator that I pushed into the CD drive space. This drive is at the back of the computer and directly in line with the keys which made it easier to run my thin wires across the casing. My friends told me to use three function keys equally spaced, at least one key apart to reduce the risk of them becoming accidentally pressed by a curious airline employee; nobody did, they never do. I chose F2, F5 and F8 for my keys. In fact I chose F8 first of all because of you say F8 quickly it sounds like 'fate' which appealed to my sense of humour. I will be deciding the fate of so many today - individuals, governments, countries. I feel nervous but proud that I will be helping to stop the pollution of our people and faith. Finally I covered the top of each space with more bathroom sealant; I used a dark colour which will not be so obvious as the white I have in my bathroom at home. After checking the wires I put the top back on and felt good that there was no sign that anything had been changed. I could even switch on my computer and show them the start up screen. That's all they ever want to see on the rare occasion that a zealous security officer actually makes the effort to check. Even then they lose interest as soon as the first few characters of the boot sequence appear on the screen. That is typical of the arrogance of the heathen, the same arrogance that allowed the Americans to give themselves permission to desecrate the holy cities of Falluja and Najaf, and the shrine of prophet Imam Ali. The arrogance that made them think it was acceptable to humiliate our people in Abu Ghraib prison. The self serving hypocrisy that has them preaching democracy one minute and arresting Sayyed Ryad al-Nuri the next because he is the brother-in-law of Moqtada Sadr who has dared to disagree with them. Even Britain has been polluted by the great Satan; Prime Minister Blair is no more than a pitiful servant, an obedient lap dog of the corrupt administration in Washington. He has even thrown the great British reputation for justice out of the window by having Abu Hamza al-Masri arrested in London because the cronies of President Bush think they might have evidence of terrorist connections against him. Could this be the same evidence that lied about the weapons of mass destruction in Iraq? Or the evidence that perjured against the prisoners in Guantanamo Bay? Out of my window I can see London. I do not know which part, but that does not matter. I know that I will not be able to destroy Westminster, but that is not my aim. I want to make my statement for Islam. I want to frighten the British people as others have frightened the Spanish. I want them to clamour for withdrawal from Iraq and reject the corrupt policies of the United States. I want them to demand the downfall of the administrations on both sides of the Atlantic that have killed our people, polluted our holy sites, and corrupted our children with their western ways. It would have been better if I had been able to strike against America itself, but others have that task; my target is London. I can see houses now, individual buildings arranged in crescents and straight lines with their gardens laid out like green and brown pocket handkerchiefs. A lot of innocent people will die soon, but so many have died already for no purpose. At least today there will be a reason for lives to be lost. I am reaching forward now and pulling my laptop out of its bag. I left the zip open so that I could slide the machine out easily if I was discovered and needed to retrieve it in a hurry. But it has been a peaceful flight and no one bothered me beyond the offer from the flight attendants of some plastic food and the alcohol that they think is so necessary to flush it down. Soon they will hear the explosion, see the hole in the side of the aircraft and watch the fireball envelope everything as the fuel tanks beneath me explode. The man sitting next to me in his dark grey business suit looks across. He knows that we are not supposed to use electronic equipment when the plane is about to land, but he says nothing. I lift the lid and settle the laptop across my knees. On my way to the airport this morning I decided that this holy act should be marked with a prayer for each press of a key. It did not seem right that I should carry out such an act for Allah, the most beneficent, without a final supplication. And so I place my fingers on the three keys, close my eyes, and in my mind - for I do not want to attract attention in these last few seconds - I begin. I seek refuge in Allah from the outcast Satan....F2....In the name of Allah, the Most Beneficent, the Most Merciful....F5....Praise be to Allah, the Lord of the worlds....F8....