How to Break a Terrorist Read Online Free PDF Page B

in silence. He face gives up nothing.
    “Zaydan is already talking,” Bobby says, ratcheting up the pressure.
    Back in the world of criminal investigation, we call this approach the Prisoner’s Dilemma. It’s designed to get one guy to turn on another. Tell both the first to talk gets the deal while the other gets the noose, and generally it isn’t long before somebody talks.
    “I don’t care,” Abu Ali replies.
    “We want to help you, Abu Ali, but we can’t do it unless you give us something,” Bobby says.
    No answer. Abu Ali continues to stare malevolently at us.
    “Okay, I think we’re done here,” Bobby says. He turns to me.
    “Actually, I’ve got another question,” I say.
    “Go for it.”
    “Abu Ali, I do not understand your name. Doesn’t it mean ‘father of Ali?’ Yet you only have a daughter.”
    “It is just a nickname,” he replies dismissively.
    “Isn’t Ali a Shia name?”
    “I already told you that my mother was Shia.”
    “Do you have a nephew that you’ve taken in?” I ask. That would explain why he’s nicknamed Father of Ali.
    “No. It is just my wife and daughter in my house.”
    “How did you get this nickname?”
    “It is just a nickname. My mother gave it to me.”
    His voice is butter smooth, but I think I see a trace of nervousness on his face. If I did, it didn’t last long.
    I nod to Bobby, indicating I’m finished.
    “Okay, we’re done for today,” Bobby says. “Go back to your cell and think about it, Abu Ali. Think about your family. Put on your mask.”
    As Abu Ali puts the black mask over his face, Hadir exits to retrieve a guard. A minute later a guard enters and handcuffs Abu Ali’s hands behind his back. Hadir bolts from the booth as the guard leads our detainee back to his cell.
    After Hadir leaves, I ask, “What’s up with our ’terp?”
    Bobby points at the door.
    “Hadir? Oh, he’s a chain-smoker. Leave him in a boothtoo long, and he starts to get the shakes. That’s why he guzzles those Cokes.”
    “He didn’t hide how much he hates Abu Ali.”
    “Yeah. Used to be Pershmerga—Kurdish Special Forces. He’s got plenty of reason to hate Sunnis.”
    Bobby slides his notebook under one arm and changes the subject. “Well, what did you think of Abu Ali?”
    “That’s one cool player. He seems resolved to his fate.”
    “He doesn’t give a damn about anything,” Bobby agrees.
    That’s the worst type of detainee to have. You can’t motivate a guy who doesn’t care what’s going to happen to him. How can you offer a carrot to a horse with no appetite?
    Even though I’ve worked with Bobby for only a few hours, I can sense we’ve got a good rhythm going.
    “We gotta do something to make this guy care,” I suggest. “We need to get him emotional. Push his buttons. Even if we just piss him off, we need to move him.”
    “Yeah, but we need to find the right button to push. I’ve been looking for a week and haven’t found a goddamn thing. I just get nothing from the guy, you know? Inshallah , and all that bullshit.” Inshallah means “God willing,” or “God’s will.”
    Fate plays a major role in Arab societies. In Iraq, I have no doubt many will be like Abu Ali, willing to leave their fate in God’s hands. The only way to buck this trend is to go back to the things people hold closest. Family. Pride. Respect. Those things can provoke core emotions and drive up the stakes.
    I start thinking out loud. “Draw emotion out of him. That’s the way to find what motivates him.”
    “Bitterness motivates him.”
    “No, I don’t think so. He’s bitter over what has become of his life, but I don’t think it motivates him.”
    “It drove him to join Al Qaida.”
    “Not really,” I say, “I think he did that out of self-preservation more than anything else.”
    “Yeah, probably. Listen, I don’t know how to get to this fucking guy. I’ve run just about every approach in the damn book, and he hasn’t cracked. He’ll admit to